#and you live you grow and you figure out how to move with the pain or what kinds of pain you can stand

[onceuponanaromantic]

Okay I do have thoughts on this as someone who loved the line by Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet where essentially he says ‘man’s eyes were made to look so let them gaze. I will not budge for no man’s pleasure’. And then proceeded to have years where I refused to come out in the spotlight because I got burned so badly by it.

There is a difference between 1) people perceiving you (neutral) 2) people judging you (can feel bad) and 3) you judging yourself and projecting that onto other people. Like part of all three is the thing that humans are social animals and any departure from well, most norms draws attention. But simultaneously norms are meant for some kind of average and generally speaking most people will depart from the norm in some way.

And here’s the other thing, sometimes you will be penalised for acting outside the norm. Like socially/career/etc. Most of the self-focused validation of weirdness seems to elide the fact that you will in fact be punished sometimes because you choose to diverge from that. But it’s real and it’s there and you have to choose it because sometimes the punishment for trying to fit in to the norm at the expense of your own uniqueness is worse than the external punishment. I mean obviously this works in connection with other important Principles of Good Community like don’t be an asshole (which encompasses things like ‘don’t fuck up people’s lives’ ‘apologise if you do hurt people unintentionally and navigate that together’). But yeah, like it’s a pick your poison that you kind of have to learn and lean into.

the assurance "nobody is judging you" is straight up false... people ARE judging you and you have to find a way to be ok w it

[fastandcarlos]

Best Nurse Ever : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: after a nasty crash over the weekend, lando is relying on you to help him get better again

As the door shut and you waved goodbye to Oscar, the smile on Lando’s face disappeared. Laid out on the couch, leg upright, Lando couldn’t help but stare with envy as the two of you walked through your apartment with ease, Oscar free to go outside again, whilst Lando was stuck within the same four walls. 

When he injured his leg you knew he wasn’t going to take it well, bedrest was the worst scenario Lando could’ve dreamt of, and now here he was, barely able to move himself off of the sofa without screaming in pain. 

The figure before you was one that you didn’t recognise, all his energy and enthusiasm had gone and was replaced by frustration and desperation. You were trying your best for him, doing what you could to help Lando’s recovery, but it was going to be a long way to go before he was back to his usual self. 

You walked through the apartment, sitting on the end of the sofa as you placed your hand against Lando’s foot, making sure that you were careful to not catch part of the foot that would end up causing more pain for Lando. 

“Everything good?” You asked, offering Lando a faint smile. 

His head nodded as he wore a weak smile, but you could see straight through it. Recovery was already proving to be a lot harder than Lando could have ever imagined, he was used to living life at two hundred miles an hour, and now he was barely moving at one. 

“Shall I give you some space?” You offered as Lando remained quiet. You could tell he was trying to keep it together, and with you clearly more able to move than Lando, you didn’t want to sit somewhere that you weren’t wanted. 

Lando’s head shook as he tried to encourage the smile on his face to grow, not wanting you to ever feel as if he didn’t want you around. He loved having you there, even if he hated the fact that you were having to run around after him. 

You could tell he was lost in thought still, his eyes staring down at the floor debating whatever was going on in his head to himself. “It’s going to get easier you know Lan, each day you’re already starting to make good progress.” 

“I’m not used to just sitting and doing nothing,” he sighed, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “These exercises are killing me, usually they’re like a tame warm up for a workout.” 

“I know it’s frustrating, but that’s what’s helping you heal,” you reminded him, reaching out to take a hold of your hand. “Everyone is here to help you; they care and want to see you get better.” 

“I hate it,” Lando huffed, “I’m the one supposed to be taking care of you.” 

Your head shook as Lando spoke, “we’re a team and we take care of each other. It’s far from ideal to be injured, especially with how fast paced you usually are, but we’ve just got to crack on. Sure, it’s a little bump in the road, but it doesn’t mean everything just comes to a stop.” 

“How do you manage to make even this sound positive?” 

“Because we can’t change it,” you chuckled, moving closer towards Lando. “There’s no point sitting and dwelling on something you can’t change; we’ve just got to try and be positive about what comes next.” 

“Thank you,” Lando whispered, stretching his leg out slightly to try and wake it back up again. “I know there are some pretty cool nurses at the hospital, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re the best nurse ever.” 

Your eyes rolled at Lando’s compliment, nudging your hand against his other leg. He chuckled back at you, knowing exactly how you were going to react before he even said anything, never failing to catch you out with his cheeky remarks. 

“You’re going to heal and be alright Lando,” you assured him. 

“I know, I just wish I could be alright now, not weeks down the line,” he frowned, squeezing against your hand. “I need to remember to walk before I start running though.” 

You nodded in agreement, “you need to stop being so hard on yourself, these things happen.” 

Lando knew that you were right, despite how stubborn he was. He didn’t ask to get injured, but there was very little he could do about it now. “The first race is on Saturday; do you think we could do something? I don’t feel like sitting and watching it knowing that I can’t be there to complete.” 

You immediately nodded, anticipating this from Lando. As the build-up for after the summer was starting, Lando was finding it harder to listen to the headlines and watch the videos knowing that he wasn’t able to be there and be part of it. 

“What sort of thing did you have in mind for us to do?” 

“I was thinking cuddles and pretending that only we exist.” 

“We can do that,” you laughed, watching his eyes light up. “I’m sure that Oscar would still like to know that you’re cheering for him though. The constructors is still on, and regardless you’ve been a part of getting the team there.” 

“I’ll text him,” Lando promised you, “but I can’t bring myself to watch knowing that someone else is driving my car. I only want to be involved in F1 when I can be part of it, I don’t want to watch it knowing that I’m just going to sit here feeling jealous of everyone else.” 

A sympathetic smile appeared on your face, “let’s spend that time focusing on your recovery instead and getting you back there even quicker.” 

“I’d like that,” Lando mused, watching as you stood up, moving to sit beside Lando instead, allowing your hand to brush through his messy hair in front of his face. 

“I’m proud of you for handling this so well, I can’t begin to imagine how tricky this is,” you told him. “I’m going to be right here with you getting you through the next few weeks, you’re going to be sick of the sight of me nagging you.” 

Lando’s head shook in protest, “I could never get sick of the sight of you, being at home with you is the only pro of having this stupid injury.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled, as Lando nodded, assuring you that that was how it was intended. “I can’t believe an injury is what it’s taken for me to get you all to myself.” 

“I’m always right by your side,” Lando assured you, “only now it means that I get to annoy you much more than usual.” 

“You’re right...you are pretty annoying,” you teased. 

Lando’s eyes went wide, “hey...I’m injured, you’re supposed to be being nice to me.” 

“I’m always nice to you Lan.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[wanders-in-wonderland]

The Popular Vote

The livestream always happens on midnight of Saturday. There’s a hefty buy-in to be able to tune in but that never stops the audience from growing in number every stream. Every viewer has one ballot per round, each round is different. Cast your ballot before the vote ends and the majority option gets played out in real-time.

This Saturday night, I made the mistake of staying overtime at work, and I missed the last train home. Which meant walking alone on a dark path that, in the daylight, would be a breezy twenty minute stroll. But at night, it’s a different story. And clearly, since that dark trek put me in the perfect position to be taken away in a van by men who were interested in seeing me crying and screaming in pain and pleasure, at the whim of a merciless audience.

When I wake up, I’m naked and tied up, arms and legs spread out, suspended from the ceiling, with each foot on a small platform that offered enough support to take the strain off my arms and shoulders but not enough to offer any true leverage.

It takes me a few minutes to shake off the grogginess of whatever sedative they’d drugged me with, but when I do, I feel my blood run cold.

I’m surrounded by massive screens, several of which show live footage of my predicament from different angles. The screen that scares me the most is the one showing a live chat feed, with a constant barrage of messages coming in from viewers. The set-up is terrifyingly sophisticated and fear curdles my stomach in a way that makes tears well up in my eyes.

“Please! Please let me go!” I cry into the cold, unfeeling room of machinery and screens. My body struggles against the bindings but there’s no give. There’s no audible reply but I watch the chat light up with comments that make me shudder.

“I fucking love when the whores beg before we’ve even started.”

“She’s hot when she’s squirming, can’t wait to see how much she struggles tonight.”

“I wanna see her beg for mercy. Not that there will be any.”

I sob harder, tears making the chat box blurry in my vision. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out that there’s no one and nothing saving me from whatever is going to happen here.

Suddenly, a robotic voice fills the room. “Welcome to The Popular Vote. For those of you who are new to the show, please remember that each of you have a single vote to cast during every round. Vote in the allotted time and our team will implement the majority vote’s decision. Please enjoy the show.”

I gasp when the door to the room opens and four men walk in, dressed in identical black uniforms with masks covering their faces.

“Please! Please, let me go, this is a mistake!” My desperate voice fills the room but has no impact on the men, they didn’t even look in my direction, instead walking past me towards a storage cabinet behind me.

I watch through the camera’s footage as they open the cabinets and start to pull out item after item. Each one makes me more and more scared as they pull out various toys, vibrators, and other devices and machines I don’t even recognize.

There’s an electronic ding that fills the room and the same robotic voice is back. “Our first poll is beginning. Please vote now. Option 1 is subjecting our victim to clitoral stimulation by vibrator. Option 2 is vaginal penetrative stimulation by fucking machine.”

I cry out, “Wait, no, please! I don’t want this, please stop!” I watch in vain as the votes start to roll in on the screen, a feeling of helplessness overwhelming me as I watch two competing bars increase in percentage on the screen as viewers place their ballots.

There’s a robotic series of dings that sound, signaling the final few seconds of voting and through my panic, I see that the second option has pulled ahead of the first.

I choke out another sob as I watch the four men in the room start moving towards me. Two of them are rolling a machine over, a motorized piston with a massive dildo attached to the end of it. Clearly it’s meant for me.

“Please, please, no, I don’t want this, please stop!” I know it’s useless to beg but I can’t help it. My voice is shaky and thin with apprehension and I can tell it has no effect on any of the men. I glance to the chat box and the messages there make me feel even more helpless.

“That whore is going to love that machine, these little sluts always do.”

“I hope she squirts and cries when she realizes she likes this, stupid whore is going to get fucking ruined.”

In the few moments I spent reading comments, the men have rolled the fucking machine right under me and started to raise it to reach my core.

With my legs tied down and spread, there is nothing protecting me from the toy and it’s violation of me. I feel the tip of the fake cock brush my core and I thrash pointlessly, barely able to move to make a difference.

As the machine continues to rise, I feel my stomach clench when I realize that my pussy is wet. I gasp when I feel the tip of the dildo breach my core, the thickness of the toy filling me so well that I can’t help but groan. The machine continues, pushing the toy slowly and steadily filling my cunt. My back arches as I feel it rub against every part of my now-dripping cunt and I whine when it finally comes to a stop, fully seated inside of me.

I’m panting, the massive dildo splitting me open in a way that feels so fucking good. I clench around it and whimper when pleasure shoots up my spine. I glance at the livestream and see my own image, my eyes wild and body heaving from the pleasure of just having the toy inside of me. The chat box is flooded with comments about me, the way I look, the sounds I make, and the anticipation of what is to come.

Suddenly, one of the men in the room toggles a switch on the machine, and it begins.

My scream is drawn-out and wanton in response to the indescribable pleasure that floods my every sense. The men set the machine at a relentless pace, the huge cock driving into my cunt ruthlessly at a pace that is virtually inhuman.

I’m lost in the sensation of every single thrust sliding against my g-spot and slamming into my cervix, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. I can feel my body trembling at the onslaught of raw, unadulterated pleasure and the sounds that the machine is pulling from my lips could make a pornstar blush. I can feel the creeping warmth of an orgasm fast approaching as the machine fucks me into submission.

Suddenly, an electronic ding sounds. The robotic voice comes on again, with an announcement that barely registers in my pleasure-scrambled brain. “Please vote to determine the next step. Option 1 subjects our victim to forced orgasms, option 2 is edging and orgasm denial, and option 3 is ruined orgasms.”

I whine and plead but I don’t even know what I’m begging for. My eyes are too unfocused to see the progression of the vote, and of the options, I can’t even begin to fathom which would be the best. I hear the three dings that signal the vote has ended and I force my eyes to focus on the screen, my stomach clenching when I see the result: ruined orgasms.

The machine hasn’t relented on its motions, each thrust driving into my wet cunt in a way that is so perfectly and achingly torturous. My clit is throbbing and part of me wishes I could grind it against something, anything to give me a little more stimulation to push me over the edge. But there’s nothing beyond the machine forcing its cock deep inside of me, making me ride the wave of pleasure that pushes me towards to precipice of a massive orgasm. I feel my entire body tense in response to the impending onslaught of pleasure and my pussy clenches around the dildo splitting me open.

Two more hard thrusts pushes me over the edge and I let out a moaning scream as I feel the tension snap and my body clenches in burning pleasure. A seemingly endless wave of overwhelming and uncontrollable pleasure slams into me as my orgasm erupts. At that exact moment, the toy inside of me a delivers a horrible jolt of electricity, one that slams through my cunt and cruelly and abruptly yanks my body away from pleasure.

The pain takes my breath away but my body reacts more to my ruined orgasm than it does the shock. My moan turns into a wail as useless pleas pour out of my mouth, tears running down my cheeks as I feel the toy continue to fuck me through the disappointment of an orgasm it forced upon me. There’s a cruel emptiness inside of me despite the unrelenting fake cock that fills me with every thrust and a gut-wrenching, unfulfilling hunger that overtakes the pleasure that was horribly ripped away from me.

“Ah, fuck, please, please make it stop!” My voice is ragged and desperate as I plead for mercy from an uncaring audience. The men in the room are maintaining their cold indifference towards my suffering as the machine under their control continues to batter my body.

I feel my body shudder in overstimulation as the merciless machine pushes me closer to another orgasm. There’s no break or respite and my pleas fall onto deaf ears.

And as before, just as I feel my orgasm approaching, the feverish pleasure barely rises within me before it’s ripped away, ruined by the delivery of a shocking pain through my pussy that makes me scream in anguish.

The next time it happens, I hear myself wail out desperate cries and pleas that are met with silence. The time after that, my body jerks pitifully in the bindings as every muscle tenses in grief. The one following is the strongest one yet, the constant buildup and denial pushing my body to the brink of tortured pleasure. As the achingly sweet orgasm barrels through me, my pussy clenches down and gushes with my release. I can feel my own juices flowing down my legs, but my squirting orgasm isn’t any different than the previous cruelly ruined ones. The impeccably-timed electric shock yanks my body back from what would have been a mind-shattering, toe-curling sensation and leaves me feeling hollow and helpless.

After that, I stop keeping track of the ruined orgasms. My body should have been shuddering from the overstimulation of countless orgasms but instead, it aches with a voracious, unfulfillable ache that creates an unbearable cycle of horrible, desperate need barely satisfied with every orgasm until it’s torn away. The predictability of it does nothing to assuage the torment, it only makes it worse, to have every beautiful moment of pleasure marred by the inevitable loss that I can do nothing about.

An electronic ding breaks through the haze, another round. The machine beneath me pauses and I choke back a sob at the temporary relief, desperately try to focus on the words that are being announced.

“Our next round will be introducing pharmacological enhancements and orgasm denial. Please select to determine which of the following will be administered to our victim. Option 1 is administration of our proprietary aphrodisiac with no excess stimulation. Option 2 is administration of our proprietary numbing treatment with clitoral stimulation by vibrator.”

My mind wraps around the meaning behind the announcement and I feel myself tremble with desperation. I want nothing more than to cum, just to feel the full, body-shaking, mind-numbing torrent of pleasure that will flood me when a full, uninterrupted orgasm washes over me. But it’s clear that they have other plans.

I watch as the votes roll in, my heart pounding as the two options are very evenly matched in popularity. I brave a glance at the chat box and whimper when I see the comments.

“I fucking love driving a whore insane with denial. I wonder what kind of promises she’ll make to try and convince us to let her cum.”

“If she were mine, I’d never let her cum again. Sluts don’t deserve orgasms.”

Three dings break my concentration and I swing my gaze over to see the results. Option 2 has won out, but barely. I whimper softly as the four men immediately begin to set up. I watch as they wheel the fucking machine out from under me. A blush stains my cheeks when I see the dildo dripping in slick, evidence of my countless ruined orgasms.

I watch through heavy lidded eyes as one of the men reached for a small container. He deftly opens it and dips a gloved finger in, his finger coming out coated in a creamy ointment.

I watch as he comes towards me, his ointment-covered fingers coming to meet my clit in a soft motion that makes me cry out. He is thorough as he rubs the ointment onto my clit, his fingers gently moving against me, offering a delicious friction that pushes me closer towards another orgasm.

The curling warmth of an oncoming rush builds in my core but before I could fully embrace the pleasure, he pulls away and I choke out a whine. “No please, please I’m so close,” my voice is so broken to my own ears but not enough to sway the man.

They wheel out a different machine, this one shaped like a saddle, lined with ridges that line up perfectly to vibrate against and wreak havoc on my sensitive clit. It doesn’t take long for the men to position the machine underneath me. I feel the cold material of the machine against my burning hot pussy and without even thinking about it, I start to grind myself against it. A broken moan leaves my lips at the pleasure that fills me and I whine softly, trying harder to move myself to rub my throbbing clit against the machine that was very quickly starting to dampen from my dripping cunt.

I know without looking at my own image on the livestream that I made for a shameful display of wanton lust and desperation but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My hips move desperately, the bindings making it so that my movements were limited but not impossible. My eyes drift shut as I chase the pleasure, continuing to grind against the machine.

I can feel myself approaching my orgasm, a few more moments and I could almost taste the sweet pleasure. But something was wrong. Even as I rolled my hips against the machine, I could feel sensation fading in between my legs. My clit throbs and aches but the feeling of the ridges against me has become muted, and no matter how hard I grind myself against the machine, the result was the same and I’m faced with the reality that the orgasm I was chasing so closely is too far out of reach now.

I cry out, begging into the void, “Please, no, please! Make it come back, please! I need to cum, I need it!”

My begs are met with silence and I glance towards the chat box, hoping to see something, anything, that would bring me relief. But there’s nothing but cruel, taunting comments.

“Dumb fucking whore doesn’t even understand what’s happening to her stupid body.”

“They haven’t even turned on the machine yet and she’s crying. I love when sluts realize that there’s nothing they can do against the numbing cream.”

“Her clit is so fucking swollen, I hope she doesn’t get a good orgasm at all tonight.”

Suddenly, the machine beneath me roars to life. I gasp when I feel the vibrations course through my body, the harsh motion batters my clit, but instead of being overwhelmed with pleasure, all I can feel is a vague sensation. I sob when the real understanding of what is happening sinks in. The numbing cream they used on me has left me completely unable to feel the machine. I can feel my pussy clenching in need, dripping over the machine uselessly, unable to enjoy any of it. There are wordless whines and begs erupting from my lips as I chase an unreachable end. I beg because there’s nothing else I can do, and because I know that’s what the audience wants to see.

As my mind wraps around this knowledge, I feel broken. My pussy clenches at the understanding that I’m here purely for other people’s entertainment. My suffering is for their enjoyment, and every orgasm ruined, denied, or forced out of my helpless body is done so without any regard to me or my pleasure. I stare into the camera as the machine underneath me batters my clit in a way that should be making me scream. Despite that realization, or maybe because of that realization, my cunt is leaking and clenching and throbbing. My entire being has narrowed to my clit and my cunt, the ghost sensations of pleasure brushing against my psyche.

My mind is fracturing under the torment of nothing. It tries to rationalize, to make feeling where there is none, and if I really focus, I can fool myself into believing that my clit isn’t numb, isn’t blind to the torturous machine that should be pulling orgasm after orgasm out of me. I don’t know how long I’m suspended in nothingness, how long I’m held in this punishing situation of unreachable pleasure.

Three dings pull me out of my mindless misery. My eyes jump to the screen, seeing the chat light up with excited comments about what’s the come. The robotic voice fills the room.

“We reach the end of our night together and our final poll, please vote now. Option 1 allows our victim to be subjected to forced orgasms after we administer the antidote to the numbing cream in combination with targeted electrostimulation while option 2 involves continued denial with impact play and flogging.”

I can’t stop myself from screaming into the room. “Please! Please, fuck, please let me cum! Please!”

I writhe and renew my struggling, starting to futilely grind myself against the vibrator, hoping that the vote will go in my favor. My eyes glance towards to chat box, my heart pounding in anticipation as I read the flood of messages, hoping desperately for mercy.

“I don’t think this fucking whore deserves to cum tonight, I’d rather see her get her tits whipped.”

“I want to see her pass out from being forced to cum over and over again. Plus I wanna see her tight little body shake with electricity.”

My eyes flit to the results of the poll and my heart leaps when I realize option 1 is pulling ahead. Three dings confirm the results of the vote and immediately, I see one of the men approach me with the antidote.

I sob when his fingers brush this new ointment over my swollen clit and all I can do is babble out whines of gratitude. It doesn’t take long for the antidote to take effect as the vibration of the toy begins to wreck me.

There’s no slow, soft build of pleasure. There’s only pure, bone-shattering sensation that slams into me. It tears my breath away and my body erupts in orgasm. The countless denied and ruined orgasms from the beginning of the night seem to have compounded into one horrible explosion of pleasure that rips through me.

I have no sense of the world around me, my entire being has narrowed to the overwhelming wave of sensation. My cunt pulses, spraying my release over the machine that offers me no respite as it forces my body to unimaginable heights.

Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain along my side breaks into my haze. My eyes dart over and I see the four men crowded around me, each holding an electric wand that pulses a harsh zap through me at every touch.

“No! Please! Stop!” I scream, my voice pitching higher as the men start their torment. Quick jabs around the soft skin of my stomach, hips, thighs, and arms make me scream and thrash but none of that dulls any of the feeling from the vibrator between my legs.

The pain and pleasure rocks through my body and mind, both blending together in a cruel medley that draws wordless screams from my throat. Another orgasm slams through me right as I feel a terrible zap on my nipple. The scream that bursts out of me makes my own ears ache. My psyche is cracking under the onslaught of torment and there’s not a single part of my body that isn’t screaming in overstimulation. I’m nothing more than a collection of raw nerves and throbbing muscles.

The next zap hits the exposed part of my clit and my ears ring as my vision fades to black. That’s the last thing I remember from that night.

When I wake up the next morning, I’m home, in my own bed, my body achingly sore and exhausted. I glance to my bedside table and I see an envelope. In it is a USB and a note with a phone number.

“Enjoy the footage, we certainly did. Call us if you want a repeat.”

I crawl out of bed to grab my laptop and phone, and I save the number to my contacts.

------

Author's Note: I think this is my longest story yet and hope y'all enjoy! Also, I like to imagine this happens in the same universe as Pay to Play, and I'm jealous because I want to live in that universe ;)

[chuulyssa]

jealous monster trio + law and ace x reader

a/n. not proofread!! i wrote this on my phone in the middle of watching a movie ong. idk why there aren't many dialogues in ace and law's part, but im lowkey pleased with how everything turned out

tags. fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship

crack tags. sanji gets a nosebleed (again), sanji tries to steal you away, sanji (that's it, that's the warning), marco bepo and robin are the best matchmakers, nami robs someone 😴

luffy wasn't the type to be overly possessive about the things he liked. growing up with two brothers, he had learned to share all mundane things in his life; his clothes, his blanket, even his toothbrush.

but not you.

luffy didn't understand the feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you working out with zoro in the crow's nest. it was nice to stay healthy, right? that was what he had thought when he saw you reject his offer to play board games with him. he watched you walk away and up to the crow's nest where the swordsman practically lived, and sulkily climbed his special seat on the head of the sunny.

"oi, luffy! come down," usopp called out from the deck, and he glanced at the latter. "robin's telling us another story of the ancient civilizations of the west blue!"

"i'm not in the mood," luffy shouted back, still gazing wistfully at you.

he watched your face contort into one of pain when you moved to do the crunches, and zoro laughed at you before showing you how to breathe in the position as you lifted yourself back up.

"are you sure? i think you're just hungry!" usopp called again. "robin said we can have some of the special pancakes sanji made for her."

luffy stared back at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought hard. soon after, he yelled back, "i'll come down, give me one second!"

as you got back up from the crunch you were performing, you saw a long arm on the glass wall of the room and nearly screamed. luffy accidentally slammed his face into the wall, his cheeks comically enlarged as he spoke something incoherent to you. zoro rolled his eyes from beside you.

"i think he's saying break time is over. you've gotta go deal with him now."

.

zoro was rather secure in your relationship. he didn't mind it when other people commented about how nice you are, or about how pretty you look. he let it all slide, seeing as he knew all of the comments were true, and you deserved to know that. so he wasn't one to get mad when such things happened.

except when it came to the idiot cook.

it had been almost fifteen minutes past your usual time and you still hadn't shown up. zoro had gritted his teeth in the middle of a set and set out to find you. it didn't take him long, however, to figure out what was keeping you.

"my dear y/n, you must listened to this acoustic poem i have written in your name," the cook had one of your hands in his, blocking your way up to the crow's nest.

"i'm sure it's lovely, sanji, but i'm in a hurry right now--"

"ah, where, i wonder, must i look to find another beauty such as yourself--?"

"oi, cook! buzz off, will ya? no one wants you around," zoro's voice came from upstairs, and you turned to look at him.

the cook glared at him from behind you, but immediately pouted wistfully when you turned back at him. "don't say that, 'ro," you scolded, and the cook's face lit up at your words, eyes gleaming at the sight of zoro's annoyed look.

"i said what i said," zoro walked downstairs, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers when he reached you. "buzz off, prince of the perverts."

.

sanji is a little bit of an idiot. insecurity runs in his veins, and thus so does jealousy. you would have felt bad for him too, had he not been making you feel the same way since day one.

his face streamed with tears as he followed you around the marketplace. a few minutes earlier, you had caught him shooting to the sky with a nosebleed because of some poor woman's smile. he had landed right at your feet, the sight momentarily disarming you before you kicked his frame out of the way to walk.

it had been about half a minute of you ignoring him and he was on his hands and knees, begging for you to spare a glance at him. you would have felt bad, had this not been the fiftieth time in a week. you instead chose to turn to usopp, who had grown to learn to ignore sanji and his antics around women ever since they first met at the baratie. sanji's ears turned a bright red at your movement, and he clinged even harder at you

the two of you silently agreed to not wait for nami while she was busy robbing civilized people in a restaurant, and sped up at the looks the passersby were giving sanji, who was practically hanging onto your waist right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, angel, i know that's not gonna cut it but i beg for your humble forgiveness, i will not ever-"

"how do you deal with this moron?" usopp whispered to you, and you whispered back an "i don't know".

sanji kept mumbling things into your hips and pressing soft kisses into your waist, until you gave in when chopper hurried up to where you were, polaroids of your smile hanging around his neck; your boyfriend was just in rehab!

.

ace didn't think you looked half as good with anyone else but him. that is another way to say, he couldn't stand anyone who was within a certain radius from you. he wouldn't talk about it at all, and whenever you would bring it up he would play dumb.

but he hated it; not in a you're-mine-and-belong-to-me way but more in a im-just-a-boy-who-needs-external-validation-to-exist kinda way.

so he didn't like the way you were the only 'daughter' in whitebeard's crew among all the 'sons' who spoke about you like you were a trophy. he didn't like how you were placed under marco's division and not his. he didn't like how both whitebeard and marco laughed at him whenever they caught him looking at you.

after a particularly rough mission, the first division was having a blast with all the treasure they had managed to get back. ace looked at you with a longing pout on his face, about ten feet away from you. you were laughing with thatch at the moment, and he was busy fantasizing about how you would react if he carried you into your shared room on his shoulder, kissed the back of your nape and sucked hickeys to spell his name on your neck--

marco slapped the back of his head and his face fell into his plate with a loud crash.

"thank me later," marco said, eyes unwavering as the man in front of him fell asleep face-first into a plate full of food.

he went away as ace woke up shortly after, his face covered in curry, with men laughing at and mimicking him, but among all of them, his ears only heard the sound of your laughter before you quickly got up to hand him tissues.

.

law did not care. or at least, he pretended not to. after all, it had taken multiple tantrums from bepo to get him to confess to you, and even then he had made it clear he was not a fan of whatever you might have thought to be an 'ideal, loving relationship'.

that was, until today, when you had learned just how far you had to push his buttons to transform him into a romantic man. you could feel law's gaze on you as you laughed at whatever dumb thing luffy had just said, but when you turned around, he was busy conversing with robin about who knows what. once again, you turned to luffy, felt weird, turned back and saw nothing. for every minute you talked to the straw hat about something, you could feel law breathing down your neck, albeit in a subtle manner that no one but you seemed to catch.

"law," you finally came up to him, and he looked up at you as if he hadn't for ages. "is something wrong?"

"what makes you think so?" he challenged, and you could feel robin chuckle next to him. after shooting her a perplexed look, you shrugged and walked back to where the group was having fun, staying a bit closer to chopper this time, for luffy's safety.

it wasn't until the two of you had retreated back to your shared room for the night that you had realised what you felt had not been a hoax. law was on you the moment you lay next to him on the bed, nuzzling up to you and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

you were confused, to say the least, but you had a faint suspicion that this strange side of law was the idea of a certain archaeologist.

[froggiewrites]

i read every single one of your works in one sitting and oh my god. your mind. your words. you're easily one of the best writers on this hellsite. it should be a crime you don't have more followers because your writing is criminally underrated

i saw you were taking requests and i don't want anything too specific but there isn't that much ace content and i really miss my man. a bit of hurt/comfort bc i love pain and then kissing it better

i was thinking something along the line of your Follow Through work (sorry if it feels repetitive but i live for this type ace content) but really I'll be happy with whatever you put out just have fun and go to town with it <3

Ahhh thank you so much this is so sweet 😭😭 I only started posting really recently so receiving sweet messages like this feels so unreal honestly, it just makes my heart so full. I loved writing this, I always love writing sweet stuff for Ace, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write something in this vein again! I hope you like it 💙

Blinders On

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You're in love with Ace. Everybody seems to know this but him. Warnings: Fluff, Miscommunication, A Little Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 2.2k

You really can’t tell if Ace is politely rejecting you, or if he simply doesn’t understand your advances. You’re being terribly obvious, enough so that the rest of the ship (and probably the entire rest of the fleet) are well aware, teasing you for it at any given opportunity. If you have to hear one more man making obnoxious smooching noises whenever you two walk past you’re going to throttle someone.

“It’s honestly getting pathetic at this point.”

“Yeah, it hurts to see someone put their pride on the line like this with no reward in sight. Bring a tear to my eye, really.”

Their voices are teasing, not cruel, but your shoulders tense anyway. You hate feeling pathetic. If he just turned you down, you would be more than willing to just lick your wounds and move on, no matter how hard it hurt. But he never did. He never pulled away, or pushed you further from him. He just never pulled you closer, either. You were left in limbo, treading the line between friend and lover, never crossing to either side.

“What’s got you frowning like that?” You jump when you feel two fingers at the edges of your lips, gently forcing them into a smile. Ace is in front of you, nearly nose to nose, and you can see the candlelight dancing in his eyes and painting his cheeks a gentle orange. He looks beautiful, as always, as he grins at you. “That’s better. Now you try again without my help.”

You force your mouth into a smile despite yourself.

“There we go.” He laughs quietly, and you can feel his warm breath on your face. He’s horribly, unbearably close, close enough that you would barely have to move to feel his lips against yours. The urge is overwhelming, but you can’t let yourself, so you scoot back slightly, smile growing a bit shakier.

He frowns a bit, something unnamed flashing in his eyes, before he leans a little further back as well. “Care to share what made you so upset? You were glaring a hole into the table.”

“Oh it’s…it’s nothing big. Don’t worry about it.” You frankly would rather throw yourself overboard than look Ace in the eye that you were sitting here pathetically pining over him.

He frowns deeper. “You know you can always share with me, right? I’m a good listener, I swear.” A mocking laugh explodes behind him from a nearby eavesdropper, and he leans forward before muttering, “I’m good at listening to you, at least.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t want to embarrass yourself like this, but he’s looking at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes, and maybe this could be a chance for you to finally figure out how he feels about you. “Well…it’s just…” your eyes slide to the several crewmates visibly listening in. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course!” He’s on his feet instantly, offering you his hand to help you up. He pulls you up as though you weigh nothing, and while that makes your stomach flutter a bit, it’s nothing compared to the way he keeps a hold on your hand while leading you away. You can feel the heat radiating from him, every callus on his hand, the way his fingers lightly rub against the back of your hand. It takes all of your self control not to melt.

He leads you to his room, leading to wolf whistles from some passersby, and you internally groan at all of the comments you’re going to get after this. But he gently sets you on his bed before kicking off his boots and sitting next to you, on his knees, looking at you expectantly. “Is this good?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ace.” He gives a blinding smile at that, terribly pleased to have helped. “So I’ve been dealing with…an issue, lately.”

He nods, urging you onward.

“So there’s this guy…”

He winces, the expression so quick you almost miss it. 

“And I’ve been trying to figure out how he feels about me.” You curl in on yourself a little tighter. “But I genuinely can’t tell if he’s noticed how I feel and he just doesn’t…feel the same, or if he somehow doesn’t know.” This is terrifying, laying it all bare, but if it leaves a chance for something else, something better, isn’t it worth it to be brave?

But Ace remains silent. His face is frozen halfway between shock and despair, staring at you with wide eyes. You blink at him, confused, and gently reach forward to take his hand. “Ace?”

He flinches when you touch him. “Ah! Um, sorry. Advice. You wanted advice.”

“If you’re willing? You don’t have to.”

“No, I–I can.” He seems flustered, but you can’t really tell which part of this shook him. You try to brace yourself for oncoming rejection, just in case. “...You really don’t know if he feels the same?”

“I have absolutely no idea. And nobody else I’ve asked does, either.”

Another flash of hurt, the frown of a kicked puppy. “You went to other people before me?”

You rush to correct. “They came to me. I think they felt bad for me, honestly. The entire ship has noticed and they can’t tell if he likes me either, and a lot of people have been making fun of me about it. So a few people asked me if I was alright.”

He furrows his brow. “People have been making fun of you? Who?”

“Almost everyone, really. You didn’t notice?”

“No, I didn’t.” His expression shifts to something close to guilt. “How long has this been going on?”

“About…a year or so?”

“You only joined the crew a little more than a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You can’t keep the exhaustion from your tone. You want to say it hasn’t taken a toll on you, that you let it roll off your back, but the weight has been resting on your shoulders, dragging you further and further down. It’s only a matter of time before you snap entirely. “It’s…it’s a bit much, sometimes. But the only way to get them to stop is to stop trying to get him to notice me, and if I stop that he never will. And I think he’s worth all of it, really.”

“Hm. I’m…sure he is.” You can hear the sting in his voice, like cold water on an open wound. “He has to be, for you to want him so badly.”

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” You can’t keep the affection from your voice, or the warmth from your cheeks as you shyly peer at Ace through your lashes. You can’t place the faraway look in his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“He better be.” He clenches his jaw briefly before relaxing it, closing his eyes and shutting you out. You see his fingers digging into his thighs as he turns away from you and takes a deep breath. “You should just tell him, I’m sure he’ll reciprocate. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t.” His voice is strained, sounding like there’s an unshakable weight on his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. You should tell that bastard how you feel.”

“Bastard?”

You can see every muscle in his back tense as he continues to face away from you. “Did I say bastard? I meant lucky bastard.”

“It…doesn’t sound like you did.”

“How could he be anything less than lucky, to have someone like you?”

He really isn’t getting it. Even now, he just doesn’t fucking get it. “Are you mad at me, Ace? Or him, I guess?”

“I’m not mad,” he snaps, unconvincingly. “I’m not…I’m not upset. It would be ridiculous for me to be upset, I have no reason to be. Not with you, or with whoever it is. That would be silly. And I’m not. Silly.”

“...Right.”

Are you going to have to spell this out for him?

“And since I’m so definitely not-at-all mad, can I know who it is? So I know who to congratulate later.”

You sigh. “You really have no idea?”

“...I think I might have one.”

You lean forward a bit, trying to angle around him to look him in the eye, but you accidentally brush your chest with his back and he jumps, scrambling away before turning around to face you. “Who do you think it is, Ace?”

“Is it Marco?”

What?

“What?”

“Is it…is it not Marco?” He furrows his brow.

“I–no. It’s not Marco.”

“Thatch then?”

“No! Oh my god.”

“Izou? Or–”

“It’s you, Ace!”

His eyes go wide and he freezes. “It’s…me?”

“Yes.”

He absolutely lights up like a firework with the biggest, most sincere grin you’ve ever seen. “It’s me?” He leans forward, close enough that you can see every fleck of color in his dark eyes. “It’s me? Really? You mean it?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” You can’t keep the hint of laughter out of your voice at the idea you could love anybody but Ace, as though any man you had ever met could beat him for best. 

Before you know it, his arms are around you, his comforting weight pressing you into the bed beneath you. “I didn’t think it could ever be me.”

Your arms wrap around him in turn, pulling his head into your neck as he presses his nose into you. “Why couldn’t it be you? You’re amazing, Ace.”

“I can’t believe you believe that.” His voice is soft as he pulls himself apart for a second, allows himself to fall into your embrace and forget the world. “I didn’t think you could want me. I already didn’t get how you could like me, let alone more. You’re so…everything and I’m so…me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in the world better to be than you.”

There’s a wetness pressing into your neck, but you don’t comment. “No one has ever said that to me before. I don’t…I don’t understand how I tricked you, but–”

“Portgas D Ace. You didn’t trick me. I just saw you for who you were, and I loved you because of it. Not in spite of it, not because I somehow didn’t see it. Because you’re you, and I don’t know what could be better than that.”

“Almost anything else?” He mutters it weakly. “I really hoped you would…would think about me like I think about you. I just didn’t think it was possible. Was it really that obvious?”

“Every single person on this ship knew before you did. Someone was making fun of me for it at breakfast, directly in front of you, and you still didn’t notice. It was really just because you didn’t think I could like you?”

“It genuinely didn’t seem like a possibility to me. I figured I was just going to be pining after you for the rest of my life, y’know? Have to see you find someone else as wonderful as you are and run off together, and pretend I was happy for you. Which I sort of would be, I guess. I want you to be happy. And I didn’t think I could do that for you.” He pulls out of your neck, and you can see his eyes are glistening, a few stray tears making their way down his freckled cheeks. He looks you in the eye, while his own filled with a strange mix of affection and self loathing. “Still don’t, really. But I’ll try.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, gently brushing away his tears. “No one else could make me happier than you, Ace. I know that for sure. You are the kindest, brightest, most wonderful man I know. You have no idea how amazing you are, how you inspire the people around you. You’re so loved, and it’s not because you managed to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes, or anything silly like that. It’s because you deserve it.” You lean up, lips brushing softly against his before you pull back again to speak. His lips chase yours, making you giggle. “You deserve every bit of it, Ace. And if you don’t believe me I’ll just have to show you. Every day, until it sticks.”

“And if it does?” His voice is nothing but a whisper as he stares at you like you’re the greatest treasure on the seas. “Will you stop if it sticks?”

“No way in hell. I’ll double down. Triple down, even.”

He gives you a shy grin. “Guess I’ll have to figure out the truth pretty fast, then. I’d like to see what double this looks like.

“I guess you will.”

The next kiss takes your breath away. It makes the teasing you and Ace are sure to receive when you leave the cabin worth it a million times over. But right now there isn’t a crew jeering at you. The only thing in the world right now is Ace, on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses you like he’s been waiting a thousand years to do it.

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 .

# with akagami no shanks.

the captain was drunk — and a bit self-conscious. not to fret, for you were his favorite entertainer.

KINKTOBER, day ten. smut (mdni!). strip-tease. lap dance. masturbation (reader!receiving). thigh riding. dry humping. usage of conqueror’s haki. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 1.9k.

akagami no shanks had lost his arm.

upon his return to the wild seas of the new world, those had been the most frowned upon words. the fearsome captain, the unmovable force, somehow would miss a limb forevermore. the reactions were but a divergent cacophony. fear — for what human could achieve such a feat? was it even a human? if not so, how close was the beast? if it had been enough to face him, what chance did the commoners have? anger — for mihawk no longer had a worthy rival. it would be far from honorable to face in combat a swordsman whose dominant arm was gone. and, at last, curiosity — for why was the truth hidden? one did not brag about a loss, but aside from overused jokes, shanks refused to spare a single word. who was he protecting? it was hilarious to witness the fuss as part of the select number of people aware of what had, in truth, happened.

akagami no shanks had lost his arm. and you had been the one to hear his puns ever since.

of course, he faced decent struggles. waking at night phantom pain; forced to master the art of the sword yet again with a hand he had no experience with whatsoever. yet, above the frustration soared an undeniable truth — for luffy, it had been worth it. besides, a decade past and shanks had grew accustomed to the mandatory shifts, living as though had not lost a thing.

however, as it seemed, there was yet one he would never cease to whine about.

the man was drunk — a common occurrence — and awfully clingy — another common occurrence. you had dragged him from the bar, pitying the poor beckman, for the man deserved a break from the captain’s shenanigans, and shanks had been hugging your waist ever since. he sat on the bed, drooling on your flesh, not allowing you to at least go fetch some water. his grip was a prison of itself on usual hours, but it did not help that you, too, were a bit intoxicated, swaying to the sides and failing to pull his face off your body.

“dooooooooooooll,” he drawled out, hiccuping. “i miss your ass.”

shanks gripped a considerable amount of flesh, daring to whine. “get over it, you’re a grown man.”

“how mean, i am half a grown man,” he laughed at said joke, biting the bare inch of your waist.

“half a man deserves half an ass,” you stated matter-of-factly, fighting off the urge to let out a hiccup yourself.

“but i miss groping both sides at the same time,” shanks insisted, dragging his nose on your belly, daring to grow drunker on your scent.

“you never had this complaint with my tits,” you pointed out, to which he liked his lips, seemingly aroused all of the sudden.

the hand pinching at your waist trailed itself up to rest on one of your breasts, his once slouched figure straightening up so that he could drag a sloppy stripe across your covered nipple. he had no problem with it whatsoever, for he was a man of considerable height.

“i can tease both of my girls at the same time,” he stated, wetting the fabric of your shirt, grinning at the elicit expression. “i can’t slap both your asscheeks at the same time anymore.”

your nipple hardened due to his ministrations, all but his for the taking, for you hadn’t felt the need to wear a bra that night. shanks closed his lips around the bud, humming as he sucked on it, spit soaking clothing and skin alike.

“and you like it,” the man teased, voice a bit muffled; rough.

you arched your back with a sigh, gripping locks of red hair, falling prey to his sensual tongue. yet, though your glance was tethered to his face, shanks’ own eyes seemed ever-so-lost, melancholic, even. you caught on the instance he moved his other shoulder, as though aiming to grip your hip with a nonexistent arm — a maintained instinct despite the absence of the limb. shanks laid down, retreating from your figure altogether, explicit vulnerability that would not have been shown otherwise, was he not drunk.

“see, doll? half a man,” he scoffed, to which your eyes narrowed; face scrunching in concentration as you then pondered on how to comfort him.

your fingers tugged at the waistband of his pants, whistling with faux innocence. shanks observed your approach with hooded eyes, laughing with delight once your chest was pressed against his own.

“my poor, poor husband,” you teased, pleased to witness the sudden shift in his attitude.

shanks and you hadn’t officiated the marriage; no celebration to be seen whatsoever. it had been the initial plan, two years prior. however, with newgate’s death and the aftermath of the war, waiting on a better period was the agreement. that did not mean the titles weren’t used, and shanks, in particular, never failed to be aroused whenever the word husband fell past your lips. a decade worth of lovemaking, too, made you more than attuned to what had him squirming.

“how i hate to see you so sorrowful,” you hummed, kissing the scars etched on the flesh of his eye. “i will fix that.”

“yeah, doll?” he grunted, growing excited when you dodged his advances. “how so?”

shanks sat on the edge of your shared bed, widening smirk and lustful eyes following your every move. you spun around the room, strutting your hips and nearing the corner, positioned far from his reach.

“you’re not allowed to touch,” you ordered, far more daring due to the alcohol. “just watch.”

shanks had his legs spread, a growing erection visible through the thin fabric of his pants. you opened the small, circular window, allowing the music from the outside bar to travel inside. your hips moved accordingly to the beat, an established sensual pace that had your fingers hovering over your breasts as you spun and approached him with languid steps.

you danced around the border of his reach, teasing the thin grip he had on his self-restraint. when he dared move, you dodged with a fit of giggles. “how should we start, sea emperor?”

he groaned at the title. “let me see your tits, doll.”

you hummed, rolling your hips with a languid sensualness born from the usual influence of alcohol. your fingers teased the straps of your shirt, trailing down the fabric until you reached the button of your shirts. rather than listening to his request, you sluggishly tugged down the zipper, perching your ass up as you slowly turned around, movements following the rhythm from the music outside.

the loose piece of clothing threatened to fall, yet you held the hem, controlling the pace of its trajectory, rolling your hips; lowering yourself on your knees. when it was, at last, off, you kicked it away, snapping the strap of your underwear. shanks had a brief sight of your soaked cunt before he was forced to face your front yet again. he cleared his throat, eyes trailed to the lacy, borderline transparent, fabric that left near nothing to the imagination.

“tits?” you mocked, trailing your fingers down your clothed labia.

shanks was left conflicted, his inebriated mind struggling to wrap itself around what to answer. would you concede if he reacted positively? or would you tease him yet again, offering the much desired sight of your intimacy? how could he outsmart that? shanks was far too drunk for an elaborate plan.

“thighs,” he answered smugly, a grin that indicated he felt all much too quirky.

you parted your legs open, pinching and grabbing the bare flesh, mimicking his touch. your lover was drooling, observing the outline of your intimacy; stroking his clothed member. yet again, a temptive roll of your hips deprived him of what he yearned for. shanks gripped his cock, growing out of patience as your fingers gripped the hem of your shirt, raising it ever-so-slowly, a languid set pace. you stretched the fabric, biting on it in order to keep your nipples covered, using your fingers to tease said hardened buds, muffled moans and dancing matching the melody of the song.

when the saliva started dripping down your chin; staining your shirt; you removed it, spinning it on your finger until it fell at his feet.

“doll,” he warned, sweat surging on his temples, ceasing the ministrations of his hand on the hardened member. “c’mere.”

“nuh uh,” you sang, turning around on purpose. shanks had the entire sight of your cunt when you lowered down to remove your panties, dancing with it stuck between your teeth, growing hot at the explicit lust on his eyes.

“come to me,” he demanded, the applied pressure stealing your free-will.

your dance ceased altogether, for shanks had dared use his conqueror’s haki to guarantee compliance. your figure stumbled towards the awaiting man, his index beckoning you in a mocking manner.

“sit on my lap,” you conceded, no questions asked. shanks gripped your chin, a lonesome finger tugging at the lacy underwear dangling from your lips. “i want that.”

he opened his mouth, forcing yours to mimic the movement. your panties fell on his tongue, and he moaned at the taste of your essence, the loud slurping causing your walls to clench around air. you whimpered, neglected and unable to move, and shanks all but spat out the piece of clothing, rutting his hips as though a hound in heat.

“turn around,” he instructed, groaning when you brushed against him. your ass rested on his clothed cock, legs spread and back arched, prepared for whatever he had in store. “dance for me, doll.”

the music fell on deaf ears, overthrown by the choir of your moans once you started to move, the roll of your hips teasing your clit, growing swollen due to the texture of his pants. shanks panted, leaning forward. he sucked on your earlobe, twisting one of your nipples as he teased the clothed erection under your bare entrance. the dancing grew sloppy, for he had your back pressed against his chest; his lips latched to your neck. shanks made out with the flesh, spit trailing down your breast, the wetness used to tease your abused nipple.

shanks’ feet sunk down on the ground for further support, and he interrupted the languid roll of your figure on his lap by rutting his hips, forcing his clothed cock to rub itself on your folds. he licked a trail up your chin, biting on the bone, tilting your head with his nose. expert fingers left your breast to dance down your stomach, finding themselves a home amidst your folds. he drew fast-paced circles on your clit, and you closed your eyes, moaning at the sensation. your legs trembled, thighs burning, yet the pressure of his command lingered. you were but a puppet whose strings he pulled, dancing despite your own tiredness.

the growing knot at the pit of your stomach snapped, your orgasm arriving with treacherous swiftness, for the alcohol had done its part when enhancing your pleasure. shanks laughed, shoving his fingers past your parted lips without warning, forcing you to taste yourself; to lick him clean.

he wrapped his arm around your figure to throw you against the mattress. you had but a brief sight of him — removing his clothes, standing in naked glory — before he hovered above you, teasing your slick, sensitive entrance with his leaking tip.

“you were kind enough to dance,” shanks mocked, his lips mere inches away from your own; hot breath fanning over your face. “but the spectacle won’t be complete until i have you singing.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : i’m running out of things to write here omg, happy kinktober? 😭

[deadsetobsessions]

AU of my Gotham/Tim Drake! Danny where Danny doesn’t know any knowledge beforehand about the DC universe.

Danny doesn’t know how he got here, but the fact that he now shares something in common with Vlad other than their technical halfa status disgusts him

His new name is Timothy Jackson Drake. It’s so far removed from Danny that his parents had him examined for deafness because he didn’t respond to it. He got better at it, at putting on the mask Janet and Jack Drake wanted to see. So they took him to the circus.

He meets Dick Grayson. Danny thinks the kid is adorable, even if Danny himself is technically younger. He sees the flying Graysons fall. The buzzing in his head doesn’t go away.

He’s five, when the fading spirit of Gotham reaches out and pleads her King to protect her city in her stead. She is fading. He says yes, because she’s one of his. The buzzing in his head settles and oh because that’s what’s been missing this entire time. Danny didn’t have a haunt and Gotham gave him one.

He grieves when she dies, the new title settling around small shoulders, and the city grieves with him. In the city proper, Batman and Robin are having the worst night of their lives in the sudden storm.

He’s nine. Robin is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson, in turn, is an idiot. Batman… well, he’s at least mentoring and protecting the child vigilante, which is more than Danny ever had. He grows fond of them. How could he not, when they tried their hardest to help his city? To help him?

He shows himself, to the duo, in his Phantom form. It’s still him, still modeled after Danny Fenton’s face instead of Tim Drake’s. Ghosts are a reflection of the soul, after all.

“Who are you,” Batman demands, shielding Robin with half a step.

“Gotham.” He replies. Danny wills the city to affirm his claim and the city wraps its arms around the vigilantes. Batman and Robin understands, a deep well of pure knowledge being tapped into in ways they weren’t truly meant to understand.

“…How?”

“Magic,” Phantom says, dry. He tells them of city spirits, and that they can call him in times of dire need.

Dick calls him to help with Two Face. Two Face learns the pain of unmelting ice to the balls.

His core aches when the Bats fight, but Danny knows now that it is inevitable. They’re part of his haunt, his ‘fraid. He knows these things far before they come into fruition.

Dick moves to a sister city. Phantom expands his haunt to Bludhaven because he doesn’t, won’t, ever leave his Robins to themselves.

Nightwing is hopeful, is pleasantly surprised, and very suspicious when he shows up during patrol.

“Gotham…? What are you doing here…? This isn’t, well, Gotham?”

“Satellite City. It is an extension of myself. You were Robin, yes. You’re Nightwing, now. But that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you when I can.”

Phantom goes back, and finds a kid trying to steal tires to make a living. He guides his Knight to him. The starved features, the bones Danny could see, it tugs at his core. It feels like the Ancient of Fate themselves were pulling him along.

“How’d you know I was taking the wheels?”

“Gotham.”

“Are you… high on shrooms or something?”

Bruce sighs. Batman asks Gotham to meet the new Robin, and chuckles when Jason is surprised by the glowing green figure.

Phantom hides this Robin just as much as the last one. He curls shadows around his vigilantes, sometimes at the same time, and softens what little sounds they made while stalking through his city for crime.

He makes small jokes with Jason. Danny forgets, a little, the crushing loneliness of being Timothy Drake.

“I didn’t kill Garzona!”

“You-”

Batman stops as a chill he’s never had experienced directed at him weaves around his neck. An angry Gotham.

“He didn’t kill him.” Danny slides a cold hand on Jason’s shoulders.

But the damage had been done and the next day, Batman is begging Danny to tell him any clues of where Jason had gone.

“Ethiopia.”

He clears the way for Batman to get to Robin. He clears the way for Bruce to get to Jason.

He’d fallen into the trap of believing that Batman would handle everything when in the end, he’s just a man in a mantle that demands more than he ever thought he’d have to pay.

Robin is dead and Danny grieves. The skies crack open and pours a torrent of smogged rain water upon the streets of Gotham. Despite that, Crime Alley is untouched by flood. They say the second Robin was protecting his home.

In a way, it’s not wrong.

Gotham fishes Batman from the bay, carelessly tossing the broken Joker against a shipping container.

“You can’t keep doing this. You’ll die.”

Bruce, Batman, lays on his back, eyes glazed and empty. “Maybe I want to.” He admits. And Danny can’t lose someone else. It’s already bad enough he feels the death of everyone in his city, he can’t lose him too. But Dick won’t come back. He already denied Gotham when Phantom had asked him to come back. Granted, Dick was nervous about denying him the entire time, but Danny realized that he’d lost a brother in the colors his parents chose for Dick. Danny- Phantom had cradled Dick in a swaddle of shadows and comfort.

“Alright.”

“Is it? Alright? I- I don’t want to fail you, Gotham.”

“It is. You’ve always made me proud. You will always make me proud. Whether it be by different name, it matters to me not. Stay. Heal.”

Like Dick was given permission, like he received a hint of peace, Dick Grayson crumpled to the floor and sobbed into Gotham’s shoulder.

(Later, long after Dick Grayson realized his little brother was also his city personified, he cries again into Tim’s shoulders after the later dropped a flower pot perfectly on top of Catalina Flores’ head.)

Gotham, Phantom, Danny makes a choice.

“Tomorrow, a child will show up at your door. You will let him in.”

“No- I can’t. I won’t.” He knows what Danny will ask of him.

“You will.” Danny doesn’t ever do it with his people, with his city, but dire times call for dire actions. It is an order. And Batman is Gotham’s knight. “You will. You will train him. You need a Robin to leash your brutality. I need a Robin, for Robin is my hope. The city’s hope. Our people’s hope. Do not forget the goal you have set out to accomplish in my city.”

Batman rages at him, until he falls unconscious from the wounds he’s gathered. Danny brings him home. He tells Alfred what to expect tomorrow. Bruce wakes up, eyes fixated on the crack that appeared on Danny’s neon green face. “Did. Did I do that?”

Danny nods slowly.

Batman crumples into Bruce Wayne. “Okay.” He says. “Alright. Tomorrow.”

Gotham watches him, unreadable. “Tomorrow.” He says, before fading away.

Tim Drake shows up at the door. Nightwing shows up not long after. Tim Drake adapts to Bruce Wayne’s cold looks and brutal training. Slowly, but surely, he leashes in Batman’s grief fueled brutality and less criminals go to prison with half of their lives beaten out of them.

Batman doesn’t see Gotham as much anymore. He feared that he’s angered his city, that he is no longer welcome.

When Tim figures it out… he allows the roads and the shadows to help Batman once more.

Batman stared intently at the extra coverage. “Thank you,” Tim hears him whisper. “I’m sorry.”

And when Jason Todd comes back to life and attacks Tim in the tower, Tim lets Hood beat him. Gotham had failed him, as Jason’s city. He deserves it. (He doesn’t but Danny had gone past the point of being healthy about his own physical wellbeing. Perhaps being a city spirit this long had affected him, even with the King’s title mitigating the worst of the damages.

“HE REPLACED ME!”

“Because I ordered him to.” Tim whispers, past the pain of a broken leg.

“You? Order Batman around? If you’re going to lie, make it a better one, Replacement.”

Tim catches Jason’s wrist, the one holding the knife to Tim’s throat.

“Robin,” he says simply, allowing Gotham to come out and peer at the child that is his.

Jason stares, disbelieving. Gotham had… Gotham had come by and approved of his plans to clean up Crime Alley. Gotham had extracted a promise not to damage the buildings.

“No.”

His city stares back and him and Jason stumbles away. Tim shifts into Danny, into Gotham.

“You…”

“I am Gotham. I- I did not want to wear these colors. They were yours and Dick’s. But Bruce was hurting the city, he was hurting me. So I made sure he stopped.”

Jason stares at the new cracks, the fresh ones he just caused and the old ones he does not remember being on Danny’s ghostly skin.

Jason swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“As am I. I am sorry I was not there to save you. I am sorry that you died.”

Jason stares at him. The Replacement is Gotham. Jason almost destroyed his city.

“I am glad that you’ve returned. That you’re alive, now.”

“…Really?”

“Always.”

Alternative Version of the above Tower Scene:

Jason slides the knife against the Replacement’s neck.

Danny sighs. “I can’t believe I’m dying again.”

Jason pauses. “What the fuck did you just say, Replacement?”

Danny rolls his eyes at him and Jason rethinks his decision of not offing the little fucker right away.

“You think you’re the first one to die in this household? Get a grip. I did it first, way before you did, jackass.”

Tim is 14. He’s a child. What the fuck is Jason doing?

“When…?”

“How do you think I became Gotham, little bird?”

Jason freezes. And then he’s scrambling backwards, the knife flung away in his horror.

Tim shifts into Gotham and Jason bites back a cut of regret and bitterness.

He… no, what? What even is happening?

“Why is the Joker not dead? You… you told me that you loved me. That Gotham… that-”

“I’m cruel, little bird. The Joker would not suffer as much if he were dead.”

“He’s killing people! He’s killing your own!”

“So everyone thinks.”

“What?”

“I am Gotham, little bird. Mass hallucinogenic gasses are so within my reach to the point it is concerning. Perhaps you should help Ivy with the city clean up?”

“Huh?!”

[irisintheafterglow]

um blah blah blah something about knight!katsuki tearing through panicked crowds to find you slumped behind a knocked-over table, paling when he sees the growing red patch under the hand on your side.

"shit," is all he manages to force out, and it's all he can say for the next thirty seconds while he tries to figure out how to get you out of here. "no, no, no. you're not fine, dumbass," he snaps when you insist that you're fine. he registers a figure sprinting towards him with an axe and throws a dagger from his belt without even thinking, the assailant falling onto the dirt. "this is all your fault," he mutters as he pulls you from under the table and into a nearby alley.

"i can't believe you're blaming me for my own assassination attempt," you exhale shakily, your breathing too uneven for his liking. "all i wanted was to pick some flowers."

"we could have had the flowers brought to the palace," he argues, raking a nervous hand through his hair. "but you wanted to see them straight from the farmer's market."

"there's not much we can do now that i am bleeding out," you groan, fighting down the bile in your throat when you see how red your hand has become. katsuki's hand gently but firmly grips your wrist, forcing it out of your field of vision.

"don't look at it. just look at me," he commands, scarlet eyes revealing his panic. for the first time in your history together, katsuki looked scared. "just keep looking at me, okay? i'm gonna move you to a safehouse a few blocks away."

"no, please," you plead with him, grabbing his wrist before he can loop his arms under your legs. "it hurts when i move."

"the other option is for you to die, princess, and i'm not letting that happen," he swears. "i shouldn't have ever let this happen to you in the first place."

"it's not your fault," you whisper, your thumb smearing red across his cheekbone.

"isn't it, though?" the expression of pure grief on your knight's face disappears in an instant and, before you can protest, katsuki lifts you from the ground like you weighed nothing at all. you muffle a broken cry into your hand and squeeze your eyes tight against his chest, shaking from the white-hot arc of pain cutting your side. "just stay with me, princess. you're gonna be okay."

"it hurts, kats," you sob quietly and a part of him dies. "it hurts so much."

"i know it does, baby. just stay with me and the pain will go away soon."

katsuki isn't there when you wake up in the palace infirmary, but the news of the pub bloodbath where several members of the criminal underworld were being investigated reached you eventually. your knight was supposed to be leading the investigation, but dragon keeper kirishima revealed that, after the attack in the market, he had taken matters into his own hands.

he had a single thought as he inserted his dripping sword back into its sheath. long live the princess as long as he lived.

[doumadono]

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

The war was over, but the scars it left behind were far from healed, both physical and emotional.

Bakugo lay in the hospital bed, his body covered in bandages, his mind foggy from the painkillers.

The room was quiet, the beeping of machines the only sound as you sat beside him, waiting for him to wake up. Your heart was heavy with the knowledge of the painful news you had to deliver when he woke.

Slowly, Bakugo's eyes fluttered open, confusion and disorientation clear in his gaze. “Where... where am I?" he muttered, his voice hoarse and weak.

You leaned closer, taking his hand in yours. "You're in the hospital, Katsuki.”

His eyes narrowed as he tried to sit up, wincing in pain. "What happened?"

You took a deep breath, holding his remaining hand. "Katsuki, there's something you need to know."

His eyes, still foggy, tried to focus on you. "Spit it out," he muttered, impatience tinged with a hint of fear.

"Your arm," you began, struggling to keep your voice steady. "They couldn't save it. It was too damaged."

Bakugo's gaze darted around the room, panic rising as he tried to move his right arm and found it wouldn't respond. "What the hell?" he gasped, looking down at the empty space where his arm used to be. "What... What the fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes as you squeezed his remaining hand. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, barely moving your lips, tears welling up in your eyes. "They did everything they could."

Bakugo's face contorted with a mix of disbelief and rage. "My quirk... it was in my palms. How am I supposed to be a hero now? No... no, no, no!" he shouted, struggling to sit up, only to fall back onto the bed, his body too weak to support him. "This can't be happening!"

You tried to hold him, to calm him, but he pushed you away with his remaining hand, his eyes wild with fear and anger. "Get away from me!"

"Katsuki, please," you begged, tears streaming down your face as you reached out your hand to place it on his shoulder. "I'm here for you. We can get through this together. We’ll find a way…"

Bakugo screamed, his voice breaking. "Don’t touch me! I'm useless! I'm fucking nothing! And you want to find a way?" he scoffed, his voice rising. "There is no way! I'm useless without my quirk!"

His words cut deep, but you refused to give up on him. "You're still a hero, Katsuki. You're still the strongest person I know…”

He turned his face away, tears of rage and frustration streaming down his cheeks. "Just leave me alone, woman. I want to be fucking alone. Get the fuck out!”

You left the room, your heart shattered and tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, but you vowed to yourself that you wouldn't give up on him.

Days turned into weeks, and Bakugo's anger only seemed to grow. He lashed out at everyone, pushing away those who tried to help. Bakugo's mood grew darker as he struggled to come to terms with his loss.

He spent hours in physical therapy, not to regain strength, but to punish himself for his perceived weakness.

One evening, you found him in the hospital gym, punching a bag with his remaining hand until his knuckles bled. 

"Katsuki, stop!" you gasped, covering your mouth with curled palm.

He ignored you, his breath coming in ragged gasps, tears mingling with sweat. "I can't... I can't do this," he panted.

You approached him quickly, and grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at you. "You're destroying yourself. This isn't helping."

"And what do you think you know?" he spat, his eyes wild. "You still have both your arms. You still can live and enjoy your sweet life, goddammit!”

“And I want to live it with you," you said fiercely, refusing to let go. "But you need to let me in. You need to let me help you."

His anger gave way to despair, and he sank to the floor, covering his face with his hand. "I don't know how."

You knelt beside him, wrapping your arms around him. "We'll figure it out together. You're not alone, Katsuki. Not ever."

Slowly, painfully, Bakugo began to accept your help, allowing you to be his support as he navigated this new reality.

Everyone, including you, his parents and his friends stood by his side through it all, offering support, encouragement, and love.

The therapy sessions became less about punishing himself and more about finding a way to live again.

Slowly but surely, Bakugo regained his confidence, finding new ways to use his quirk and his skills to remain a hero. He still had moments of doubt, moments where he cursed his fate and his limitations.

Those moments became less frequent, replaced by a determination to rise above his challenges.

"I love you," he said one morning, out of the blue, as you approached him in front of the classroom, bringing him bento you’ve prepared for him.

You turned to him, surprised but pleased. "I love you too, Katsuki."

He smirked, a shadow of his old self shining through as he leaned forward and placed a tiny kiss to the top of your head, accepting the box. "I know. And I'm gonna prove to you that I'm still the best damn hero around."

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I never doubted it for a second."

Bakugo found solace in the realization that he could still be the hero he always aspired to be.

[bloodandoranges]

“…I would have killed you.”

Astarion x Reader (tav is gender neutral / little bit of angst / Astarion kills some creeps / comfort sorta?)

CW: VERY VAGUE mentions of (but avoided) unwanted advances (not by Astarion or Tav; but directed towards Tav.)

if anyone likes this concept I may do another chapter?

If Astarion had a tail? They were sure it’d be lashing about right now like a furious cat. He urged them into the room, immediately softening when they were alone, cool hands moving to cup their face. He winced at the blood.

“What the hells were you thinking, rushing off alone like that!?” He barked, the fear in his eyes betraying the fury in his voice…he looked as if he may cry. “I was just going to check out a quick lead, I figured I could do that alone…” Tav sighed, shaking their head as they peered up at him. “I planned to just be in and out.”

They’d settled in at the Elfsong Tavern for the night, desperate to have a bed for once. Their little party was happy to have a moment to relax and drink, but Tav had noticed a sewer grate when they’d come upon the tavern, and intended to expend a moment of their time to atleast check it out.

Of course, Baldurs Gate at night was a dangerous place. Outside of a tavern? Even worse. A few drunk humans had tried to flirt, and got a more than a little angry when denied. Cue Astarion; rushing in from the shadows and tearing out the throats of the unlucky ones without a second thought.

He’d dragged Tav away from the gruesome scene, softly hissing fury at them for being so foolish.

And that’s where they were now, nestled in the safety of their room, both of them covered in blood. Tav gave a shudder, running a hand through their hair. Astarion watched them with piercing eyes, fury evident in the way his eyebrows were furrowed.

“…I’ll run us a bath.” He spoke, saying nothing more as he stood and slinked away. The second he was out of their sight? He let himself crumbled a little, hand settled over his mouth as he worked to process what had happened. Those men could’ve hurt Tav. They could’ve-… He used to be the one who would prowl in the night, taking innocent victims love and then their lives. It made him feel sick to his very core.

He’d thought nothing of it at the time; why would he? He’d not had a choice. He’d never had a choice. And yet, he’d grown complicit. It was hard not to. He couldn’t help it, and besides, why should he care for anyone else, when no one had tried to save him? Of course, Tav had come along and flipped his world upside down, showed him he could grow…but growing hurt.

Tav sat stock still on their bed, staring up at the ceiling. They hated being scolded like a child, and yet they knew Astarion was just /scared/. Just like he was when Araj offered them that potion. Just like he was every time they’d been downed in battle; always the first at their side. Always the first to bark and berate them, then tenderly tend their wounds. He had no idea how to even begin to process those feelings…and so he lashed out.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily make it okay…just understandable. Something they’d work through together. They’d been working through.

They were so lost in thought they almost didn’t hear Astarion call out, stumbling to their feet and over to the tub settled behind an old partition. He was already settled inside, gazing out the window next to the tub.

He looked utterly stunning in the moonlight, it almost shone on his wet, porcelain skin. Water dripped from his face - now clean of all the blood. He finally tilted his head to gaze at them, and though his expression was stoic? There was a pain in his eyes. Slowly, Tav peeled away their clothes, eager to rid themself of the blood and dirt from the past few days.

Astarion’s gaze didn’t leave them, always fond and adoring. His arms wound tight around their waist as they slipped into the tub, pulling their soft body against his. Settling his face against their shoulder, he inhaled their scent. Blood, flesh, warmth. Alive.

“I am sorry, you know,” he whispered against their skin, lips trailing over it. “For…ugh, /overreacting/. I was just— I was worried, okay? I saw how those men were eyeing you off, like you were a piece of meat, a prize to be won, and it— …it made me think… of myself. How I used to be.” Though it was frantic? His voice was hardly above a whisper, so meek compared to his usual manner.

“That— you had no choice,” Tav said quickly, whipping around with lighting speed so they could gaze at him. Astarion stared at them, piercing red eyes full of sadness, eyebrows furrowed. “I know. I just—…” he shook his head, resting his forehead against Tavs, gazing into their eyes.

It was quiet for a moment, only the sound of the sloshing water as the pair adjusted.

“I would have killed you.” He breathed, a tense silence filling the room at his words.

He’d spoken them before, at Cazadors palace, just before the fateful reunion that rendered the vampire’s plans obsolete, that freed the spawn that Astarion had unknowingly created.

A shaky breath was the first noise to escape the silence, as Tav wound themself around Astarion, as best as they could. He pressed his face into their shoulder, breathing them in, focusing on the sound of their soft heartbeat. Fingers tangled into white curls, holding him close as the two of them quietly ached.

“You don’t ever have to be that again.” Tav whispered, soon pulling away from the embrace to cup his face in their hands, and he gazed at them like a sad puppy as he melted into their loving embrace.

“I know,” Astarion responded, hands gently clasping their wrists, kissing over their palms… he hoped that one day? He could believe that.

[selene-writes]

You-Me-Us

AHHHH Hey guys! There's lots of Logan craze on here thought I would try writing. Should this be a series? Its short and there's lot of places to go from here.

You had known Logan for fifteen years—technically, that had been your entire life, or at least as much of it as you could remember. Your earliest memory was of his face peering down at you with a mixture of concern and relief. You were in some sort of ruined laboratory, your body aching with a pain you couldn’t fully comprehend. You didn’t even know your own name at the time. Instead, you went by Artemis, a name you had chosen for yourself, though Logan often called you "bub."

Like Logan, you were a mutant, endowed with the gift of regeneration. This ability made it impossible to determine your exact age. In addition to your regenerative powers, you possessed the unique ability to manipulate atoms. This rare skill granted you control over all elements, a power that made you incredibly unique and powerful.

You had both decided to stick together, united in your quest to uncover the truth about who you were and why you had ended up there. It was evident that something significant had happened to both of you, something that had rendered you both invincible. Despite the mysteries that surrounded your origins, the bond between you and Logan only grew throughout time.

As time passed, the nature of your relationship evolved in ways neither of you had anticipated. Somehow, amidst the chaos and the search for answers, you had found yourselves tumbling into bed with each other. While the physical connection had become a part of your lives, nothing had fundamentally changed, and you never talked about it.

Even as you navigated your complicated relationship, your focus remained on the shared mission: to piece together the truth about your past and understand the full extent of your powers. 

Everything happened so quickly. You and Logan were in the middle of your usual routine—hitting various bars and grifting people for money. It was a familiar pattern, one that had become almost comforting in its predictability. But that night, things took an unexpected turn.

A teenager—no older than seventeen—had sneaked into the back of your car. Her name was Rogue, and despite your initial reluctance, you and Logan ended up arguing about what to do with her. Logan, ever the soft-hearted one despite his gruff exterior, eventually agreed to give her a ride, though it was clear he would have done so regardless of your persuasion.

The situation quickly spiraled out of control. Out of nowhere—a caveman-like brute—attacked you. Logan was momentarily knocked out in the chaos, leaving you and Rogue vulnerable. The man’s strength was overwhelming, and before you could react, he hurled you against a tree. The impact was brutal, and you felt a jarring “crack” as your head struck the trunk.

You crumpled to the ground, falling into the snow. As the world around you dimmed, the last thing you saw was the silhouettes of the figures moving closer, their shapes growing more defined against the stark whiteness of the snow.

You woke with a groan, sitting up abruptly as if propelled by instinct. Your body felt as good as new, fully healed from the earlier impact. Instinctively, you scanned your surroundings, your mind racing with concern for Logan and his whereabouts.

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you noticed a bald man sitting in a wheelchair across the room. Despite his lack of visible movement, his voice seemed to come from all around you, resonating in your mind as much as your ears.

“There is no need to panic,” he said, his lips remaining still, not in sync with his words.

You tensed, on high alert. “How are you doing that?” you demanded, your voice edged with suspicion.

The bald man responded aloud this time, “How do we do anything? We’re mutants.”

Your frustration boiled over. “Where am I? Where is Logan?”

The man’s calm demeanor didn’t waver. “He is safe… you both are.” He began to wheel closer; his movements deliberate and smooth. “As for where you are… You are at my academy, where we help those like you. You are with… the X-Men.”

[iliketangerines]

consider the lin kuei brothers growing obsessive over someone and basically imprisoning her?

bi-han is obsessed with breeding the next lin kuei heir, of course. kuai liang thinks the outside world is dangerous and she's safer here. tomas just wants comfort and a big happy family of his own, and the reader can provide both of these! how lovely :)

i think temperature play and mindbreak go lovely with this - go crazy w this prompt otherwise i love reading ur writing

all ours

a/n: mmmmm, dark content my beloved. also, i do NOT condone this behavior in real life

pairing: bi han, kuai liang, tomas vrbada x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), noncon, dead dove do not eat, breeding kink, pet play, pregnancy kink, pussy eating, overstimulation, creampies, somniphila, degradation kink, fingerfucking

you can feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, and you turn to look over your shoulder

but all you see is the empty living room, and you slowly turn back to stir the food cooking in your pan

the past few weeks, you’ve felt like someone was watching you, waiting for you, like a predator hunting their prey, and you’ve been on edge

you can’t ignore the hissing sound that sounds behind you, and you whip around, wooden spoon in hand

there’s still no one there, but you see smoke rolling out of your bedroom door

you let out a yelp and turn off the stove, hoping that the candle you lit in there hadn’t set anything on fire too badly

you sprint into your room and find nothing there, candle still half-full, and you let out a sigh of relief

but goosebumps trail over your skin, and you turn around and find a tall man standing behind you, masked with feral eyes and gray hair

you try to run, but hands grab onto you from behind and press something against your face

you’re out before you even know it

you wake up with a start, and the world is a bit hazy as you try to blink your eyes open, perhaps it was just a bad dream

you go to rub your eyes and regain your sight, but the unfamiliar sound of a chain rattling startles you awake

you look to your hand and find it cuffed to the bedpost, which you most definitely didn’t put on yourself, and your breath comes out in quick breaths as you pull and tug on the chain

you start to cry, hyperventilating as you realize your ankles are also chained to the bed with little room to move to get off the bed and that you’re completely naked

a slight pressure is on your neck, and you tug at it and realize it’s a collar, like you’re a dog

the doorway to the room you’re in opens, and you try to scramble back as far as you can onto the bed

it’s not far enough as your back hits the headboard and a man with a blue uniform and hair tied up nicely into a bun enters the room

his eyes rove over your figure, and he stalks toward you, eyes not human as he crawls toward you on the bed

you try to kick him to get him away, but he easily catches your leg and squeezes tight, ice forming at the skin and freezing your nerves

you whimper and try to jerk your leg away, ice sending pain shooting up your body, and he lets out a low growl and jerks you toward him

he pins your hands up above you, freezing them in place and you cry as the ice cold temperature burns you, and he laughs at you

he trails his cold hands down your body, admiring the way goosebumps rise wherever he touches, and you squirm as best as you can in his grip to get away

it’s futile, your legs are spread by his hips, and he presses your hips down to stop you from moving

he growls at you to stop, or he’ll do something much worse

a blade of ice forms from his hand, and he points the sharp edge underneath your chin

immediately, you stop and take in shallow breaths as you hiccup and try not to cry as he hums in delight at your compliance

he puts down the ice blade, but it’s just within reach to remind to be good for him

he rubs at your hips and your waist and mutters something under his breath about you’ll bear his heirs, strong boys to lead his clan

you want to cry, scream, fight, but you don’t want to die and so you stay still and let tears drip down your cheeks as your wrists go numb

he trails his fingers down your stomach and spreads open your pussy folds, pressing his thumb into your clit and watching your hips jerk

you try to keep the sounds in, to not give him the pleasure of knowing he was making you feel good, but as he rubs insistent little circles into you, a small whine comes out

he chuckles and tells you he knew you were just a whore, a good little breeding vessel who’ll take his cock like a little slut

you can feel yourself getting wet, and you moan as he dips two cold fingers into your dripping cunt and fucks you roughly on his fingers

he laughs and presses his thumb into your clit, and you start to sob as he brings you closer to the edge against your will

your back arches off the bed as you cum, and your pussy clenches down on his fingers as you coat his fingers in your cum

your head spins as he brings his fingers out of your pussy and shoves them into your mouth, you have half a mind to not bite down and just let his fingers rest in your mouth

he pulls out his cock, and he pushes into you hurriedly, muttering under his breath how he needs to breed you, secure the future of the Lin Kuei, fuck until it takes

you cry as he fucks into you, hips slapping against yours and filling the room with a loud squelching sound

he rubs at your clit, telling you that you’re such a good bitch, such a good whore, gonna fill you up with his seed, have you round and pregnant as much as he can as you take care of his children

you cry as your mind goes blank, and you whine as you go over the edge, he

he grunts as he buries himself deep inside of you and cums inside of you

he stays inside of you, trailing his icy fingers over your body as you try not to think about how you’re stuck here, but your body jerks and twitches underneath his fingertips and keeps you in the present

he starts thrusting his hips in and out of you again, and you whine, saying you can’t please, you can’t you’re too sensitive

he growls at you to take it, and one of his hands go to tug at your collar as he starts fucking into you again

he makes you cum on his cock over and over again, filling you with his seed until you’re just a drooling teary mess and your stomach slightly bulges

he rubs your stomach, mumbling under his breath, but you’re too far gone to hear what he’s said and you pass out as he starts to fuck you again

you wake up, and you’re mostly cleaned up, ice gone

you’re sore and tired, and you quickly fall asleep again and hope someone will come and save you

but no one comes, and you learn that the blue assassin is named Bi Han, grandmaster of the Lin Kuei

you wake up, not completely sure of how many days have passed, but Bi Han has let you out of the chains and explore around the compound as long as you’re on the leash behind him

he brings you to a meeting, body clad in nothing, and you sit by Bi Han’s lap as he waits for the others show

a yellow assassin walks and sees you in Bi Han’s lap, and he immediately complains that you can’t be out, that it’s too dangerous for you

Bi Han growls that you are protected with him around and to keep him mouth shut

a gray assassin puts his hand on the yellow assassin’s shoulder and says Kuai Liang, you should calm down

Kuai Liang, it seems his name is, has furrowed eyebrows, but he listens and sits down to listen to the meeting

you sit silently by Bi Han’s legs, picking at the floorboards as you wait for him to finish up, and he brings you back to your room and locks the door, leaving you alone and chained to the bed

it’s only a few moments later when you hear the door latch open, and you look up and find Kuai Liang and not Bi Han

he closes the door behind him and locks it and crawls onto the bed

you flinch as he touches you

he’s much warmer than Bi Han, much much warmer, so much that it burns, and you whimper at the temperature difference

he laughs and coos at you, saying you’re just too cute, too innocent, that you need to be protected, too pretty for this filthy world

he mouths at your skin as he mumbles the words, and you let him, too scared to try and fight back like you had when Bi Han had first brought you here

he pulls your legs apart and admires your pussy, already wet for him, and he crawls down to place his cheek on your thigh

he places his tongue against your clit, and you whimper as the heat scorches through you

he hums at your small sounds and laps into your pussy desperately, trying to draw out more sounds from you, and he brings his hand up to fuck you on his fingers

you whine at the feeling, fingers thick and hot, as he fucks you slowly, stretching you out for his cock

he looks up at you, and he hums into your clit at the sight of your head thrown back in pleasure

he doubles his efforts, sucking on your clit and humming around it, and the vibrations travel up your mind and make your mind go blank as you whine and cum on his tongue

he moans into your pussy as he moves down so his nose grinds into your sensitive clit and he licks at your pussy to collect your release on his tongue

he mumbles out that you’re so sweet, so good for him, too good for this world, and he dives back into your cunt to make you cum on his tongue, he needs to taste you again

you cry as he keeps on lapping at your oversensitive clit, but he ignores your protests and keeps tasting you and fucking you on his tongue

you can’t think as he makes you cum on his tongue over and over again, groaning into you messy cunt as he grinds his hips into the bed and comes inside of his pants

but he can’t stop even as you start to push against him against all of your training

he doesn’t care, just can’t stop, and you end up passing out as makes you cum one more time on his fingers

Kuai Liang visits you more often after that

and then, the last one comes out of nowhere

you’re sleeping on the bed, cuddling into the pillows as you try to remember the days before, your past life before all this, but the memories are slipping and you can’t remember

can’t remember your home, can’t remember your friends, can’t remember your family, and all the days are starting to blur

and you can see your stomach growing, and by the way Bi Han had reacted at the sight of your plumping thighs and breasts and hips, you know you’re pregnant

but right now, you’re away from the both of them, letting your body rest

until you feel a hand brush over your stomach and something press into your back, hot and throbbing

an unfamiliar voice croons at you, telling you look so pretty carrying children, so so pretty and beautiful, that you’ll make a great parent, so loving and gorgeous as you’re filled with more heirs

he raises your legs up, cuddling into your neck and pressing kisses into your skin as he slides his cock between your folds to collect your growing wetness

he slides into you, and you whine at the stretch, but he kisses your neck and apologizes quietly as he fucks into you

you can’t do anything except take it as he fucks you and shower you in compliments, and his cock stretches you side and full, tip brushing against that sweet spot inside you

you throw your head back and whine as your oversensitive cunt clamps down on his cock and cums all over him all too quickly

he coos at you and tells you that you’re so good for him as he continues to thrust his cock deep inside of you

you clutch onto the sheets as he makes you cum on his cock a few more times before he grunts and spills his seed into you, staying seated inside of you as he brings your leg down and wraps his arms around your ample chest

you sob and whimper quietly as he tells you you’re so pretty for him, for them all, that you’ll give him and the others a big happy family

months pass, they continue coming to your room, bringing you out only if you’re hooked on your leash, and you’re starting to lose your mind

everything becomes harder as your belly rounds and grows plump with Bi Han’s child, and the men grow more handsy, more dangerous and aggressive towards their own soldiers

you cower in fear as they kill one of their men in cold blood for looking at you for too long, and they bring you back to your room and Bi Han stays with you, marking you in his kisses and hickeys

you’re never returning home, and you finally accept it, tears rolling down as your mind goes blank and forgets your past

[erenjaegerwifee]

Your Excuse To See Me

Request by: @twilightlover2007

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Deacon's case takes him to your bookshop.

Warnings: none, fluff,

Word Count: 2.4k

Disclaimer: all my characters are aged-up! If this makes you uncomfortable please do not interact with my account or any of my notes.

Main M.List | Deacon M.List

“Hey deac” Luca spoke up as Deacon entered the locker rooms. “Morning guys” he replied greeting the rest of the team. “Tan was just telling us about how Bonnie is jealous” Chris spoke up while they all got ready for their shift. “Bonnie is not jealous; I’m telling you guys she isn’t like that” Tan tries to defend. “What happened that everyone things she jealous?” Deacon asked.  

“Last night we went on a date and when we were walking to our apartment in the hallway this girl was getting harassed by this idiot and I helped her out. After he left, she told us she just moved in and it happen to come up she also spoke Cantonese. I happen to mention it was so rare to find another person who speaks it by coincidence and after that Bonnie’s mood has been off. She won’t talk, she’s basically doing everything she can to avoid making eye contact with me.”  

Deacon hisses feigning pain when he hears the story, “hate to break it to you man but that’s jealousy. I can’t believe you can’t wrap your head around this, she is jealous because that woman who speaks your language probably shares your religion and values growing up in a Chinese American home is now living next door to you. She feels less than now that she has someone to compare herself to.”  

Tan took a second to process his words before he finally understands how it all went wrong, he never even thought Bonnie would think like that. “How are you still single? You should have girls falling at your feet” Tan jokes.  

“Jokes on you bro, he does” Street says making everyone laugh as they walk out of the locker room to meet Hondo. Before much words can be exchanged, Hicks walks in with a case assigned to the team. “20-David, we’ve been handed over a case, apparently the financial crimes and the narcotics division can’t solve it and they want us to wrap up this up. Also, we have intel the man doing the money laundering are armed and dangerous.” 

Hicks goes on to explain the details of the case to the team, saying a man who supposedly goes by the name Authur Lopez has been moving money around through other people’s business. He also may be using them as a stash house. The problem is no one can seem to figure out which business he is using to clean his money. “They know he’s dealing but they can’t prove it, we need to find the proof to bring this guy in” 

“We may have a lead though, detective Chase that was previous the lead on this case said he found Auther has an old high school girlfriend who recently moved to town, we aren’t sure if they have had any contact but it’s worth checking out, she might know somewhere he might hide” Hicks finishes up letting the team take the case. Street and Tan both start researching your home and workplace addresses and they found something. 

“She owned a bookshop, just opened a couple months ago, around the same time we caught wind of Authur and around the time she moved into town, her business could be the one she’s using, she sells books, it can be a good cover if her business gets traffic, and judging by the location I think she’d be doing well.” Street says as he pulls up the location of your shop on the screen for the team to see.  

“I found her home address, it’s an apartment complex about 3 blocked from the shop.” Chris says and pulls the location for them to see. “Okay Street, Tan with me we’ll check out her apartment. Luca, Chris and Deacon you can check out her shop she might be there, she what she knows if she’s willing to talk.” Honda hands out their assignments and everyone jumps in a car their destination.   

When Deacon, Chris and Luca arrive at the bookshop they walk in and don’t immediately see anyone around. They walk a little deeper into the shop and you step out from one of the isles the shop isn’t so big that someone can hide, unless they are in the back room. “Hi there, is there something I can help you with?” you say in a sweet voice.  

At the sound of your voice Deacon whips his head, he stutters a bit when he sees you for the first time. Your hair fell curly down your back, you wore jeans that fit your hips but flared down over your ankles with cute brown sandals, you wore a gorgeous floral top that complimented your skin tone so perfectly. “Hi, Ms. Y/n? I’m Sergeant Kay, this is officers Alonso and Luca, we are here to ask you a few questions.”  

You look up at the handsome sergeant standing in front of you and your brain almost lags. “Sure, happy to help” you smile at him clasping your hands together. You gesture to the chairs and small sofas scattered around the room for them to sit and you do the same. “Ms. Y/n, we believe a man you know has been involved in some illegal activity and we wanted to know if you had any information you could share” the girl who’s name you learned was Chris spoke up. 

“Who?’ you asked her, “The name Auther Lopez ring a bell?” Luca asked you. Authur Lopez, you were never able to look at men the same after him, he was your high school sweetheart. You were going to marry him. That was until you found out he was dealing in high school and left him. “A couple months ago he found my shop, said he was keeping tabs on me and asked if I would consider giving him a job. Auther and I dated in high school, I broke up with him when I found out he was dealing, not only that but he was on them. I’m not sure what I never asked. When I hired him, he promised he was clean and so I agreed. Actually, his shift is meant to start in about 10 minutes, he has to come here.” 

“What is he involved in?” You asked them directly your question to no one in particular. “We believe he dealing again, or maybe he never stopped who knows. We need to bring him in a find the location of his stash house before he can distribute his product.” Luca spoke to you.  

“You’re welcome to wait here until he shows then, I had no idea he was still dealing” Luca made a call to someone while Chris asked to look around the shop and you agreed. Deacon didn’t move though, he sat right there in front of you the whole time. “Are you back together?” his voice was quite as he spoke but you heard him, “No, I’m not interested in starting things back up with him, he has done nothing but disappoint me, I only gave him the job because he said he needed it and he was getting clean.” you matched him tone while you looked at him. 

He was so pretty you could barely take your eyes off him, if you weren’t looking at his chest printing out in the tight SWAT t-shirt you were looking at his chocolate brown eyes, if not that, the you have never seen a man look so good with a beard and that usually wasn’t something you’d go for, the hints of grey just did something to your brain.  

Deacon wasn’t any different, he was too busy staring at you to realize you were staring back, he admired the way your curls look so full but not frizzy at the same time, the way he so easily got lost in your beautiful eyes, and let’s not talk about your figure, he has never seen anyone look so beautiful before.  

“So, Sergeant Kay-” 

“Deacon, call me Deacon” 

“Deacon, you’re a SWAT sergeant what is that like?” you smile when you ask him. He was confused for a quick second how did you know he was in SWAT? Until he remembered he was working, he was dressed in uniform. “It’s good, I like it, it’s dangerous and it’s a lot of work but it pays off in the end. So, books?” he returned the question.  

“Yea, I've always been a reader” you giggle as you continue, “It’s very calming to read, takes my mind off things when I’m stressed, a way to pretend you’re someone else.” 

“How could you want to be someone else?” his tone was breathy, it had a hint of a chuckle in it, it made you blush. It was so easy to get caught up in him you forgot all about what he was here for. Luca walked back into the shop; the noise of the chimes pulled you back to reality. He was met with the sight of you and deacon staring at each other with flirtatious smiles and cleared his throat to get your attention. 

“The others arrested Authur on his way here, they have him in custody. Hondo said meet back at HQ” Chris moves out with Luca and Deacon was about to follow them, “Wait!” you stopped him resting you hand on his arm to stop him from walking. You ran into one of the isles and grabbed a book off the shelf, “Here, an excuse for you to come back that isn’t work related. Now you can go” you smiled at him sweetly and he chuckled at your sweet gesture. “I’ll take you up on that.”  

Deacon walked out the bookshop with a wide grin in his face and he sees Chris and Luca waiting for him with matching grins, seems Luca had filled Chris in and they both clocked the book he didn’t walk in there with. “Ouu someone’s got a crush” Chris said in a sing song tone.  

A few days later the case was wrapped up and Deacon was sitting on a comfortable chair in the SWAT main room with his legs propped up as he read the book you gave him. He isn’t you paid attention to the book you handed in when you grabbed it but it was an interesting book.  

He has been teased non-stop by the team since they all heard about what happened, no one can see him sitting with that book in his hand without saying something about you. They even went as far as to make a bookmark with your face on it and stick it in his book so every time he opened it, he would see you. It was entertaining the say the least but now that the book was in his hand and finished, he felt nervous to see you again, this time he had no motive to hide behind other than he just wanted to see your pretty face again. 

“Hey Deac, we’re gonna hit up Luca’s food truck, do you wanna come with?” Chris asked Deacon as she packed up her things at the end of the shift. “I’d love to but, I have to swing by the bookshop and return this book y/n gave me” He waited patiently for the teasing and right on cue, “You going ask her out?” Chris was grinning like a school girl.  

“I want to, I will, I’m gonna...maybe”  

“Sergeant Kay is nervous? There is a first for everything. But seriously all jokes aside, I saw the way you looked at each other. She will say yes, no need to doubt yourself” Chris smiled at him and punched his shoulder as they walk out of the locker room.  

Deacon rushed to his car saying a quick goodbye to the team and driving to the bookshop before you closed. He opened the door and say you writing something sitting on a high chair behind the desk. “Hey” he said with a small smile.  

You look up from your book and smiled when you saw him, “You came back” you said matching his smile as it grew larger, “I guess my excuse to come see you worked, great book by the way, never thought I’d be into enemies to lovers but apparently I am” he chuckled and put the book down on the desk. 

“I’m glad you liked it; I wasn’t sure you were the type” you giggled. There was a moment of silence between you. A moment where you just stared at each other, admiring. “I have to close up the shop now, it was really nice of you to come back Deacon, it was nice to see you” Deacon smiled at your words knowing exactly how you feel.  

“It was nice to see you too.... hey do you want to join me for some dinner? I know a great food truck not far from here, we could swing by and get something” you wanted to burst with happiness, you didn’t think he had it in him to ask you out but he did.  

“Of course I’ll go with you, let me just grab my purse and lock up” you smiled you sweet smile at him and you giddily ran to the back room to get your stuff, hearing him laugh at your antics.  

When he opened the car door for you at the food truck you smiled and took a big inhale. He watched you fall in love with the smell of the food and you walked right up to the menu, “I don’t know what to get” you said to him, “Order for me”  

Deacon was about to speak when he heard his name being called out, his team was still here. He turned his head in sync with yours and watched a bunch of people walk up to you both. You instinctively stepped closer to Deacon but you quickly recognized Chris and Luca from earlier in the week.  

“I see you asked her out” Chris said. 

“I can’t believe it took him so long” another boy said who introduced himself as Jim Street 

“Oh, give him a break, it’s been a week” their team leader spoke up, Hondo. Their comments made you blush and you hid your face with your hands giggling. Deacon put his arm around your shoulder to shield you from the teasing while they laughed at the situation wholeheartedly. You're so happy Sergeant Kay came to your bookshop.  

🔹I hope you all enjoyed reading! I’d love for anyone to Reblog my work, Like and Comment so it can be shared! I’ve been wanting to write for Deacon for a while and I’m finally starting!

🔹On another note. Deacon is hot as fuck. And I want to write him in a nsfw kind of way. Eventually not atm I’d like some feedback on how you would feel after reading my work.

Taglist:

@twilightlover2007 @fluentmoviequoter @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @spnshortcake

[transmascsteveharrington]

Prince Steve who loses a battle and his hearing gets send to the sea by his father as a punishment. He's a disgrace, to never return to the kingdom. Steve doesn't need to hear to know that his father told the crew to drown him, or let pirates kill him, or just wait for a storm to take him.

Steve tries to his best to be of use on the ship, but he has no illusions. He knows his father pays well and that the crew hates his guts, thinking he is nothing but a spoiled brat. And even if her were to prove them wrong and prove himself, they are too scared of his father to obey his orders. Steve knows when he boards the ship that his days are numbered.

He spends most of his days under deck after it becomes evident that the crew doesn't want his help. His nights he spends standing at the ship's bow staring at the ocean and staring at the moon. Thinks about how waves and sky melt into one in the dark of the night. How the moon will call out and the waves will sing back and the ocean will follow. Worlds apart and yet one in the dim reflection of light on the restless surface. Steve has made his peace with dying.

His life has not been fulfilled, but it has been longer than expected. Steve has lived with bated breath, just waiting for his father's temper to finally snap and one of the knights' lances to slip during training, or the cooks' food to grow rotten and poisonous.

Just like the moon to the ocean, death has always been looming above Steve, calling out to him, just waiting. And Steve is fine with it. Mostly. He just really wishes he had been in love at least once. He can't hear the song moon and ocean sing to each other anymore, but he kicks off his shoes bare feet on wooden planks and feels the love ocean and moon have for each other in the waves crashing against the hull.

His mother used to sing him to sleep, an old song. A caged bird singing out to his lover, waiting patiently, asking to be freed and whisked away. His mother has died waiting. Steve doesn't remember the lyrics, would probably not pronounce the words correctly anymore anyways. But he still knows the melody. He hums along with the ocean and yearns together with the moon.

The crew always ignores him so Steve doesn't notice when one day their eyes become distant and milky. When the ship stirs towards cliffs he doesn't question it. Just thinks that this might be it, this is where he will be thrown overboard and die. The ship crashes, planks splintering apart and Steve does tumble, falls overboard while the crew jumps. Bodies hit the water, but his head is the only one that breaks back through the surface.

He spots motion in the water, thinks sharks, doesn't know why he bothers but he tries to make it to the nearest cliff and climbs onto the coarse rock. A dark figure follows him. It's not a shark though that emerges once Steve has made it onto the cliff, even though it has just as sharp teeth. Sharp teeth and gills and claws and beautiful brown eyes and an almost human face matching the almost human upper body.

Sirens aren't meant to be pretty, they only lure with the promise of heated desire and quick release, no need to actually look the part. They are half monster anyways. Still, the siren in front of Steve looks beautiful, flashes his fangs in a grin as he lifts himself up on Steve's cliff.

Steve is tired the siren won't have to

sing to lure him to his death, the siren can just take him. He doesn't though, just stares at Steve, moves his lips and Steve, sick of it all, just snarks back, "I'm deaf you dimwit. So if you wanna eat me just get on with it."

The siren's smile falls. He's probably not used to his food talking back let alone be rude. His clawed hand reaches out for Steve and Steve presses his eyes shut, expecting pain. Instead, the siren cups his face gently, claw brushing over his cheek. Steve doesn't remember the last time someone had touched him with tenderness.

When Steve opens his eyes again confused the siren removes his hand and begins to sign. Steve's jaw drops a little, he knew sirens could speak whatever language to lure whoever they needed to lure. He hadn't expected them to know sign too.

"I'm not going to eat you, little prince," the siren signs. "I heard you call out for me so I came. You sing so lovely."

Steve still gapes, "What?"

"It's an old song," the siren signs. "The moon and the waves were not the only ones who listened."

Steve stares at the siren. The siren who heard him hum, who had heard him wait, heard him ask to be whisked away. The siren has come for him but not to eat him.

"What's your name?"

"Eddie."

"And what now Eddie?" Steve asks.

Eddie reaches into the water where there is another dark figure. When he takes his hand back out he hands Steve dark algae he has never seen before.

"You can take these and join me and my swarm, they'll allow you to breathe underwater," Eddie explains. "Or you'll say the word and I'll return you to the nearest land. Your choice."

It's the easiest choice Steve has ever made. Return to a place that was never home, live alone and in fear. Or follow the siren who heard his call and came for him. Steve swallows the algae.

"I choose you."

Eddie smiles again, holds his hand out for Steve to take before he pulls Steve underwater and for the first time Steve actually feels like he can breathe freely.

Growing a tail, gills, fangs and claws isn't pleasant. But Eddie holds him through it, hand brushing through Steve's hair. Steve can't hear Eddie, but he can feel the vibrations in Eddie's chest as Eddie hums soothingly.

He has no expectations after Steve joins his swarm. Seems to be happy to just be around Steve. But Steve called for Eddie the same way the moon calls for the ocean and just like the waves Eddie had come. Falling had been inevitable from the beginning.

They'll drift, bodies and limbs entangled, Steve's hand gently resting on Eddie's throat as Eddie returns the favor and sings for Steve. It's another old song. A love song. Steve can feel Eddie's love under his fingertips vibrating in Eddie's throat and beating in his chest. The song is not going to lure anyone else, one that belongs to Steve alone. Though Eddie never had to lure Steve, Steve lured him first. But even without his song, Eddie would have come for his little prince. The same way the ocean will always come for the moon, sky and water one during the star-lit night.

[alastwhorez]

A Soldiers Love

♡ Pairing: Soldier!Alastor x Nurse!Reader

♡ Summary: Alastor is injured during the war, and you're there to care for his wounds

♡ Warnings: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, human alastor, oral, pet names, war, injuries, p in v, afab!reader, I think that's everything

♡An: I know Alastor wasn't alive in 1939, but for the sake of the story, let's pretend he was. Not proofread, possible spelling errors.

The year was 1939, and the world was engulfed in the flames of war. Alastor, once a charismatic radio host, now found himself in the uniform of a soldier. His sharp wit and charm were still intact, but the horrors of the battlefield had etched a new depth into his eyes.

You, a compassionate nurse, worked tirelessly in a field hospital, tending to the endless stream of wounded soldiers. Despite the chaos, your hands remained steady, your heart driven by a fierce determination to save lives.

One fateful day, Alastor was brought into the hospital, his body riddled with injuries, passed out from the pain. Your breath caught as you recognized the man who had once captivated the airwaves with his voice. Now, he lay before you, vulnerable and in need of care.

“Come on, stay with me,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the turmoil around you. You worked quickly, your hands moving with practiced precision to tend to Alastor’s wounds.

Alastor’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the familiar spark of mischief returned. “Well, isn’t this a twist of fate?” he murmured, his voice weak but still carrying a hint of his old charm. Memories of Alastor saving you a few weeks prior from an enemy soldier flood your mind.

“Please, save your strength,” You replied, your focus remaining on tending to his wounds. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

As days turned into weeks, Alastor’s condition improved under yours and the other nurses' care. Despite the horrors of war surrounding you, a bond began to form. Alastor, once a voice that brought joy and laughter, found solace in your presence. You both shared stories, laughter, and moments of quiet reflection amidst the chaos.

One evening, as the sun set over the battlefield, Alastor and you sat side by side, watching the sky turn shades of orange and pink. “You know,” Alastor began, his voice softer than usual, “I’ve seen many things in my time, but nothing quite like you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. “And I’ve never met anyone like you, Mr. Hartfelt.”

As the night continued you and Alastor moved closer and closer towards one another. Alastor shared stories of his radio host days and wishing for nothing more than to get back to. He told you about his mom and how he missed her dearly. You told him about your life back home, about going to nursing school.

Ever since that night you and Alastor made it a tradition to meet every night. He would sneak away from his tent as night took over the skies and you once your duties for the evening were through.

The other nurses would tease you about Alastor, about how you two seemed to be glued to each other since the night you cared for his wounds.

Tonight was like any other night, finishing up work and getting ready to sneak away to the radio host turned soldier. All the other nurses on duty have called it a night and for once no patience In the medical tent. All you had left to do was finish cleaning up then off to see Alastor. What you weren't expecting was for someone to walk into the tent and hands to grip your waist.

You gasp turning around quickly only to come face to face with the man you've been craving to see all day. He was in his nightwear, pants and a t-shirt. His dog tags hanging around his neck.

Alastor looked down at you smiling as his grip on you tightened “did I scare you darlin’?” He said in a southern draw.

“Alastor” you say relieved “what are you doing here”

“wanted to see you, doll face” his smile growing. You took in his figure. Spotting a few cuts and bruises that weren't there the last time you saw the soldier.

“Why didn't you wait for me at our spot?

He laughs “I waited a half hour, you never showed so I came lookin’ for ya” your eyes widen realizing you were so busy finishing up work the time completely skipped your mind.

Alastor leaned down resting his head on your shoulder. “Got worried darlin'” his hands dip down to your hips “wanted to make sure you were alright” his voice deeper and the southern draw more prominent.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you first His shirt. He moves his head towards your neck placing a small kiss. “Been thinking about you all day, always thinking about you doll”

You feel your face Heat up at his confession. “Only thing that gets me through the day is thinkin�� ‘bout you and knowing I get to see you that evening”

Your hands find his hair and grip the strands “Al” you whisper.

“Want you so bad darlin’” his hold on your hips tightens, bunching up your uniform slightly causing it to lift higher up your legs. “Tell me you want me to, that You crave this just as much as I do” He places Another kiss to your neck this time right below your ear. “Have wanted you since I woke up here all those weeks ago. Couldn't keep my eyes off you”

You say his name again, more breathy this time as you tug on his hair.

“you have no idea how hard it is to share you with the other men. How much I have to hold back from killing them when they come back from here talking ‘bout the pretty little nurse who took care of them. My nurse, my darlin’” He nips you ear “you're mine right? My little sweet thing, my cute little nurse” He pulls your uniform up higher. “tell me you want this”

You nod “please Al”

He chuckles hearing you beg “use your words darlin’ gotta tell me what you want”

You whine against him when he pushes his hips flush against yours. “want you, have wanted you since you came here all beaten and bruised. So jealous of the other nurses who got to help you, got to touch you”

He smirks against your skin, letting out a breathy laugh. “aww is my sweet little nurse being possessive over her patient? Want to keep me all to yourself? Tell me love, what did you want to do to the other who helped me? Who helped me bathe, change my clothes, and the dressings for my wounds?”

You whine again. “wanted to kill em. Wanted to be the only one you needed”

Alastor smiles and starts walking you backwards towards one of the medical cots. “Wanted to take you since the moment I laid eyes on you sweetness”

“Oh Al, I want you too. Wanted it so bad. I would have let you.” the back of your legs hit the cot and you fall back onto your back Alastor hovering over you, his hands on either side of your head. He leans down his lips ghosting over yours “tell me you're mine”

“all yours Alastor” you whisper against his lips. He smiles before slamming his lips into yours in a heated kiss. Moaning at the taste of you.

You arch your back pressing Your chest Into his as you fist his shirt. Alastors hands move to your knees,sliding up towards your thighs, pushing your uniform up in the process. He parts your legs and lays in between them. His hips flush with yours.

You moan as he slips his tongue into your mouth, his cock twitching in his pants at the sound. You grind up against him and he starts to slowly rock his hips into you meeting you halfway. Alastor continues to hump Your clothed cunt.

He pulls away trailing kissing down your neck towards your chest. He starts unbuttoning Your uniform His lips following his hands down your body. Once he has your uniform removed he is face to face with your dripping cunt. He looks up at you with a silent question. You nod your head and he pulls your panties down as he trails kissing on your thigh. Biting and sucking the skin, leaving marks for Only your eyes to see.

Alastors breath fans over your cunt making you arch your back before he dives in. He starts off slow with kitten licks but you grind against his face trying to get more friction. He laughs and speeds up as he flattens his tongue against you giving you long licks.

your Moaning and whining as you fist his hair. Begging Him to keep going. You cum on his tongue soon after He inserts a finger, pumping slowly and curling it against the spot that Has you seeing stars.

Alastor Is grinding his leaky cock against the cot. Searching for any friction he can find, chasing his own release. He moans at the taste of you. You're the sweetest thing to ever grace his tongue.

He adds a second finger curling them when you scream out his name. He chuckles against you. Before long he has you finishing on his fingers as he licks up the juices. You pull him up To your face by his hair.

“Just fuck me already Al” you beg

He laughs “Such foul language for a lady”

You whine and wrap your legs around his waist grinding up into him. Feeling the outline of his cock “please, please need it so bad”

He laughs again “how could i say no when you beg so nicely hmm?”

You pull his shirt off of him tossing it somewhere in the ten as he pulls his pants down lining up at your entrance before slowly pushing in. You moan against each other's lips before he is claiming your lips again as he starts moving his hips. His dog tags rocking against you as they hang from his neck.

You scratch down his back leaving marks surely his fellow soldiers will see tomorrow. he groans at the feeling of your nails on his skin.

His hand moves down your body searching for your bundle of nerves. He starts rubbing as he picks up the speed of his thrusts. You cum for the nth time tonight, cunt squeezing his aching cock. You scream out his name in pleasure. He moans your name against your lips as he chases his own release, finishing soon after you, filling you up.

You two lay there In a comfortable silence as you both catch your breath. Alastor trails kissing over your face, and shoulders. Kissing the Marks he left behind as his hands massage your thighs.

“I love you Alastor” you whisper

“Love you too darlin'” he smiles down at you.

The next day you can't stop smiling, blushing everytime you see Alastor or someone mentions him.

The other nurses notice the bite marks and bruises on your neck and joke about Alastor giving them to you while the other soldiers see the scratch marks you left behind on Alastor's back.

His smile widens at their questions, and he smugly hints at the fact he claimed you as his the night before and hopefully every night to come after.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I can totally see stan and his spouse trying to domestic a raccoon they randomly found

You were the living room when you heard Stan tussle with something outside after hearing something range through your trash. He was cursing up a storm for certain that you were glad that Ford had taken Dipper and Mabel out for the day for a lesson in the dangers of fae traps.

Once the tussling was over you fully expected him to come back into the shack, trusted broom in hand, complaining to you about how another blonde haired and blue eyed beautiful man was eating out of the trash cans…again; but when you moved from Stan’s recliner to greet him, you saw that not only was he in a worse state, he also wasn’t alone as hanging from his arm was a trash covered raccoon.

‘So I see you found the culprit to all that noise.’ You commented as you walked towards Stan with a smile, ‘and what a cutie they are! Oh yes you are!’ You cooed as you quickly took the raccoon from biting Stan’s arm and into your own as though you were swaddling a newborn baby, smiling down at it as the raccoon only looked back up at you with its dark eyes.

Stan, more than use to your urge to adopt and care for even the wildest of animals, walked up behind you and looked down at the raccoon over your shoulder. ‘He’s only the second cutest thing you’ve ever seen besides me, right?’ He asked and you only kissed his cheek before burrowing your head into his neck. ‘Of course you are Stanley.’ You reassured him softly before adding, ‘what shall we name this little guy?’

‘Little shit.’ Stan answered immediately but you playfully slapped his chest.

‘We can’t call him that! We have kids in the house remember!’ You chided him gently as you felt the raccoon grow restless in your arms, looking for a way to break out and escape from his weird human captors. ‘How about bandit?’ You then said and Stan stayed quiet for a bit as he mulled over the name in his head before smiling and kissing your cheek. ‘You’re a genius doll face! Bandit Pines welcome to the family!’ He exclaimed as he reached a hand down to affectionately scratch the raccoon on the stomach, only for the raccoon to chomp down on his finger, causing Stanley to let out a pained yell.

‘Ow!’

‘Bandit!’ You scolded and the raccoon immediately looked at you with wide eyes and flattened ears, ‘that’s not very nice, apologise to your father!’ You then held the raccoon up to Stan’s face. At first the raccoon didn’t do anything other stare at Stan, who was staring right back at him, but soon reached his little paws out to press against Stanley’s cheeks as Bandit sniffed and then licked his nose and forehead, making him chuckle at the tickling sensation.

‘Apology accepted little rascal.’ Stan said as he scratched Bandit behind the ear with his good hand, ‘but we should probably get Ford’s first aid kid and sort this bite out before it gets worse.’ Stan adds as he shows you his injured finger and you winced. ‘You’re right, we should get that patched up.’ You agreed though not before settling bandit down on Stan’s recliner and giving the raccoon a stern look.

‘You stay here while I take care of your father, then after I’m done it’s time we give you a bath, okay?’ You smiled but the second the raccoon was set down on the recliner, it bolted off of it and ran out of the door the second Ford had opened it, scaring him and the twins as they hide behind their Grunkle as bandit escaped into the woods nearby; You and Stan probably should’ve suspected that this would happen really but there was a reason why you were together, and seemingly adopting wild animals was your favourite pass time together when bored.

Ford sighed in exasperation as he looked at you and Stan’s still figures as you both looked back at him as though he had caught you both eating Dipper and Mabel’s summerween candy stash. ‘Again?’ He asked as you and Stan only shrugged your shoulders, thinking that what Ford had just seen was all he needed to know to get the full context of what had happened, you and Stan tried to domestic a raccoon and it didn’t work.

‘They’re wild animals for a reason, you can’t just file down their claws and fangs and not expect them to retaliate within their nature.’ Ford continues as he sent the kids up to their room to prevent them from seeing him scold their Grunkle and Great aunt/ uncle for the fourth time that week.

‘But we have waddles.’ You countered and Stan made a noise of agreement.

‘Fair point but you did just try to adopt a raccoon, you do know that right?’ Ford asked, severely questioning yours and his brother’s intellect for thinking that domesticating such a thing was even possible. You pouted. ‘He wasn’t just a raccoon, he was our son…for five minutes.’

‘I don’t like you disrespecting our son of five minutes pointdexter.’ Stan added on as he held you in his arms.

Ford couldn’t begin to comprehend anything that he was hearing and just walked out of the room in disbelief, his family was weird, but he was one to judge when he made a kissing robot in highschool for practice, full on incinerated his own face when he needs a shave, and tried to keep a three eyed crow he once found out of curiosity.