#below deck on land

[typeandcompany]

Vanderpump Villa, 2024

This is perfect TV for right now.

[pyrepostings]

Prodigal Son

Free Birds and Fiddlers

cw: referenced past events of the story, including character death and abuse. Polite discussion of Christianity (specifically the story referenced by this chapter's title), mild implied homophobia that gets checked

~~~

Kevin settled himself on the starboard side deck, bringing his knees as close to his chin as he could without losing his balance to the waves, and holding his staff in hand for further aid in not tipping over. He tugged at his hair with his free hand.

The others were port side as far as he knew, likely going below now they were surrounded by water, and would be for some time. While he had agreed to come back to Paradis, he wasn't going to voluntarily be be brought below deck again for anything.

It wasn't long before Julian came around the corner, with two bowls of food in hand. Kevin smirked slightly as the otherwise very dignified man had not quite the sea legs of a sailor, at least Kevin had an excuse for poor balance.

"Do you mind if I join you? I brought lunch."

Kevin nodded, forcing out a "yeah" and re-positioned himself so he could wedge his staff between himself and the wall and took the offered bowl.

Lunch was some kind of cured ham, sauced and seasoned, with bread on the side. They ate in silence, washing it down with a thermos-full of tea. It was an uncomfortable silence, Kevin knowing there was much that still needed to be said, and knowing there was much Julian wanted to say but was afraid of Kevin reacting poorly so soon after the tentative peace was struck.

Kevin figured there were things for him to say too, sooner or later, and so broke it himself.

"I want you to know, Julian, that I'm sorry for hurting you. I shouldn't have. I just... I just didn't know what else to do at the time."

Kevin didn't look at the other man, but he felt him shift to look at him.

"I also want you to know. When we get back, I'll accept whatever punishment you decide for me. Just. Please don't tie me up again. Please." Kevin hid his head in his arms, breathing heavier than he was expecting to at that confession.

Julian was silent for a moment. "I meant what I said, when I told you there wouldn't be a punishment. You have to follow the terms of parole you agreed to, but I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

"I know that's what you said but you couldn't have meant it. I know you were just saying that so I wouldn't hurt you more."

"Kevin, I meant it completely. All you have to do is ask to come back and you would be welcomed back with open arms. And you have asked. And so you will be welcomed back. I don't punish for the sake of punishment."

"But I hurt you. I killed Minstrel."

"And I really wish you hadn't. But- you've been punished enough. You weren't in your right mind. Hurting you more wouldn't bring him back, and you choosing to come back is like reviving you from the dead anyhow. I just want you to feel safe again. Why would I push you away now?"

Kevin stared off at the waves before replying. "Is everyone else going to feel that way?"

"I specifically ordered him not to go after you. Both times, in fact. But it was his choice to defy them. And you had made your intentions clear to him after the first. I won't say you were in the right either, but he knew what you were prepared to do, and he went of his own free will anyway. That is the truth, and that is what I will say to anyone who gives you trouble."

"Are you going to make me swear loyalty to you, commander?"

"Mm, I would like it if you did. But I can hardly force you. Either way you would be under my protection. Besides, you already swore loyalty to Elsa all those years ago. No one could argue you haven't served at least a few good years to us. Earned the right to still wear our crest, if you chose to."

"hm. And technically I swore first to Ezran anyway. I renewed my vows to Elsa."

"Exactly, see? You're one of the old guard."

Kevin did feel relaxed by his words, if only slightly. He seemed sincere. He leaned back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes against the sun.

"But I've been gone for so long. Will anyone actually remember that? Or just the crimes I've done?"

"I'll make sure to remind them if they ever forget."

"Thank you, Julian."

The time and silence stretched between them, gently rocked by the waves until Julian spoke again.

"There's something I wanted to ask you, if it's alright?"

"What is it?"

Julian pulled out a file of papers. "I'm sure you know, but part of the agreement to have you released back to us included giving me a copy of your file. Every conversation you had in custody, every note of your actions and whereabouts, of the trial."

"Alright?"

"Would it be ok with you if I read it?"

Kevin huffed. "As if anything in there is a secret?"

"I know, I just wanted to be clear with you. If you don't want me to read it, or any specific part, I won't. I'll throw the whole file overboard right now if you sincerely ask me to."

Kevin arched an eyebrow. "I don't think you'd actually do that. But if you wish to read it, and would truly follow my wishes, you may. I just want you to know... a lot of that- I'm not proud of what you'll find in there."

"I know. That's why I asked."

A particularly turbulent wave sent Kevin off balance, forcing him to extend a hand, and sending a slight shock of pain from where he instinctively extended and put pressure on his wounded leg. He felt a touch at his shoulder which quickly retreated.

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Thanks."

Kevin adjusted slightly, not wishing to fall off balance again but also trying to wrap himself against the cold sea wind as much as possible without the thick woolen cloak he had stubbornly refused. He could feel Julian's eyes on him.

"What?"

"It's just- do you want help?"

Was there an air of smug amusement in that voice?

"No I'm fine."

"You look cold, is all. We can go below deck to get out of the wind-"

"No! No. I'm fine, I don't need to go below deck." Even as he spoke, he could feel the chill setting into his bones in a way he knew he would soon regret not finding a way to ward off the wind.

Julian hummed, clearly not convinced but also having learned his lesson about pressing Kevin about things that weren't an immediate danger to his life. Kevin did notice how Julian let his own cloak open. An invite? It was clearly intentional, from the way he shifted to allow more of the fabric to the side where Kevin sat. He wasn't being slick at all.

Kevin rolled his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"You know, we have these lovely cloaks, handcrafted and specifically designed to protect against the cold which comes with being outside, and not up to much strenuous activity."

Kevin suppressed a smirk, suddenly enjoying the game they were now playing. "I know, I used to wear one. Yours seems to have fallen, right- ah right there."

"Hm, so it has. I barely noticed. That probably means I don't really need it right now. Would you like to borrow it?"

Oh, he thinks he's so cool. Unfortunately Kevin had already decided he wasn't going to wear one of those anymore. "I don't need the whole thing, just a corner, I think." He slid a bit closer to Julian, letting their shoulders touch. "If that's ok."

Julian nodded. "I didn't think you'd want to be this close to me."

"Don't get me wrong. We're not there yet. But- I do miss you. I miss what we used to have. And I am cold."

"Mhm. Alright." Julian threw the side of the cloak over Kevin's opposite shoulder as he snuggled in, pressing his entire side of his body up to Julian's, and tucked a few fingers under his flight harness for security against the rolling waves. He felt Julian shift in a way that seemed to be checking to make sure Kevin wasn't snatching anything off of said harness, but then relaxed back into him.

He was warm. And the way Julian stroked his hair, like he used to, sent a different kind of shiver down his spine.

It was comfortable. Sans the hard wooden floor, and the rocking of the boat, and the gulls cawing-

Kevin pressed his face into Julian's shoulder and neck, just above the collarbone. Why did he ever leave? He could have had this the whole time.

With Julian's hand in his hair, and his own fingers entwined in the other man's harness, mooring him in place, he let himself drift off.

~

Julian couldn't be 100% sure Kevin wasn't trying to play him, but if he really did still hate him for what happened, he never had to agree to come back.

Kevin had a long way to go. It was true many of his old comrades turned against him when he had initially lashed out, and most of the rest when news was brought that Minstrel was dead by his hands. And that wasn't to speak of Kevin's personal journey in his own head. Julian knew by now what false peace looks like, how quickly a riptide can pull one under.

But he was hanging on, now. He would have more people than just Julian looking out for him specifically, a whole net this time. People that Kevin helped many years ago. People who were hurt in very similar ways, and maybe that would help more than Julian ever could have done the first try.

For now he smiled at the barely audible snores that started from Kevin. He opened the file still on his lap.

~

Eventually, Quinn came around the corner.

"Oh, sorry, I don't mean to intrude. I just wanted some air."

"It's fine. I was just doing some reading." Julian was suddenly very aware of his hand still in Kevin's hair at his shoulder. Aware because Quinn made no secret with the way he looked at him that was what he was referring to.

"He was cold."

"It's warmer, and dryer, inside you know."

"And stuffier, so you've mentioned."

"Eh, true." Quinn leaned against the guardrail. "I guess I just didn't realize, how involved you two were."

Julian quirked an eyebrow. "And what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing! Just that you didn't let on. You've been awfully reserved with that information, before last night I never would have suspected-"

"Allow me to interject, officer. Neither you, nor your crown, is entitled to know every last detail of our relationship. I will state plainly that I plan to uphold the deal I made with your government for his relative freedom, and any involvement with him will not hinder that.

"In addition, while you are coming along to keep his parole, the laws of Paradis are slightly different to those of your home. Not everything outlawed there is outlawed here. Not everything you know to be a sin is considered as such here."

His tone was hard, but diplomatic.

"Right, right, I'm sorry. Commander, I didn't mean it like that."

"Mhm, of course."

Kevin stirred beside him but made no indication he heard anything. Julian rubbed his head softly to coax him back to sleep.

"I guess I just didn't realize until now why you intervened for him."

"I didn't pull him out of a life of incarceration because I'm romantically involved with him, if that's the point you're trying to make."

"So why did you? You broke the policy of isolationism to fight the courts for extradition. For one man."

Julian watched Kevin's face as he rubbed his thumb gently along his scalp. "I've never been Christian, but a long time ago, he taught me some of the stories from the bible. I imagine you're Anglican?"

"Yes, why?"

"Do the stories change much between denominations?"

"Depends. Exact wordings change depending on the exact translation, but the overall stories and messages should stay the same between, say, the king James version and the catholic one."

"Then you should know the one about the son who goes off into the world, squandering all of his father's money. When the famine comes and the son has nowhere to go lest he starve and perish to the elements, he returns home, groveling to his father's feet, not believing he would ever be worthy of forgiveness.

"Instead, he is immediately forgiven. A feast is held in his honor. The father is just glad his son came home.

"Are there truly no obvious parallels here? He asked for help, to return to my side, so of course I would fight for him."

"Well I suppose, when you put it like that."

And at Julian's side, Kevin curled almost imperceptibly closer.

Masterlist

[myceliumbean]

Surprised to find out that B-52 has been im service for more than 70 years, and may as well staying and celebrate its 100 years ceremony

Its actually beautiful, with a wide wingspan and quite a long length, like the B-52 is flying so effortlessly

Which is, according to the crazy almost-sea-surface-level flying photos beside aircraft carrier, pretty much ture, I guess

And that one last scene of that youtube vedio caught me off guard

A B-52, in its military grey paint, makes a turn on the runway and the sunlight happens to shine for a mere second on the cockpit window

Like a wink toward the camara

Yeah, I know I'm too humanizing these weapons that were made just to kill as much as it can and post a threat to its enemies, but all that effort pour into making them took to the sky and survived in battles are just…

Can't describe the feeling in words at all

That effort is what makes these things so beautiful. Deadly, for sure, but still so fascinating and remarkable

[gravegoer]

i humbly suggest pirate sevika in small letters

thank you for your service

Sail the Seven Seas ☠︎︎

i had this in the works ! you read my mind, we have cowboy sevika, but we absolutely need pirate sevika, i did a little "how you met" before the hcs ! also ill greatfully take any other requests for pirate sevika i love her sm (i hope you appreciate the pirate hat i edited on her lol)

She found you when her crew was raiding a ship, you were kept prisoner in the dark dungeons below deck after the pirates robbed a bar.

Sevika was inclined to leave you there, as she was in a rush. But your pleading eyes convinced her.

She told you to back up and pulled the flimsy metal door right off the hinges. Your only experience with pirates was your former kidnappers.

They were ruthless and had not a care in the world. They were greedy enough to pat you down even though you cried and insisted you had no form of money on you other than the jewelry they had ripped from your limbs.

But after she ripped the door off, she simply walked away, not sparing you a second glance. She set you free, but now what? Were you supposed to swim to land?

You hesitated before running up the old wooden stairs, the faint moonlight beamed on your face. It smelled fresh on deck, no longer having the musky odor of mold and wood filling your nose.

You were also greeted with the sight of the woman that freed you, her back facing you and pointing to crew members, yelling orders. She must be the captain, signified by her detailed hat and especially the way the crew listened to her.

People scurried under her gaze almost cowardly. Boxes were being hauled onto a much bigger ship (which you assumed was hers) over a wooden plank.

She was tall and obviously built. You could tell even though she was adorned with many layers, straps, and belts accentuated her curves and edges. She had a metal prosthetic that looked dangerous. Not only that, but a gun and two swords hung from her waist.

You approached her timidly, the floorboards squeaking under your bare feet. When you sat a hand on her arm, urging her to turn around, she put a larger hand on the hilt of her sword defensively and spun to face you.

At just the force of it, you stumbled back. She was strong. Your eyes widened at her hands, hovering over the holster of her weapon. She spoke, "What are you trying to do?"

Her voice was gruff and demanding, leaving no room for questions. "I don't have anywhere to go," you stated honestly.

"And what do you expect me to do about that."

Although she put on the front of a rough demeanor, her eyes scanned your frame in curiosity. Worn clothes hung from your body, hair a mess, and despite it all, you were quite pretty.

She knew she couldn't take you on a ship with a bunch of men. In her eyes, it was almost as dangerous as leaving you on the ship to fend for yourself.

Almost.

She took you onto her ship with the promise that at the next stop they had, she would drop you off there. Whether or not you knew where you were.

Having no better option, you opted to go with her. She didn't shackle you up or restrain you, knowing you could do little to no harm to her or her crew.

She refused to put you in the berth with other pirates. It was stuffy and cramped, and all in all, no place for you.

So you had a room next to her (and an odd blue haired girl). She said it was fine because it's temporary anyway.

She gave you some clothes that fit, and a pair of shoes to put on your feet. And the room was more than you could ask for. It was spacious and contained a lavish bed.

You assumed it was someone else's room previously as it was already decorated. (Plus, she told you not to meddle in any of the stuff)

Sevika didnt expect you to do anything, thinking you werent fit to operate on a ship so, you were not asked to do any work. In all your boredom you found yourself roaming around the ship, looking at the stuff that was collected in each corner. Some trinkets, belts, broken weapons, etc.

Sevika watched you closely, making sure you didn't have any ulterior motives. Eventually, she realized that you were nothing but curious.

Then she watched you closely to make sure you didn't fall overboard.

At meals, you stuck close by her side, not really knowing anyone on board yet. She gave you things off her plate, saying you looked starved. And you didn't complain. You weren't really fed in the dungeons.

She started to show you around the deck, answering your questions about the sea and her ship. When you started to ask too many questions, she sighed and shook her head, wandering off to attend to her duties.

She was truly a mystery to you, not being able to read her gaze or body language. But what you did know is that she was a ruthless captian. Always having something for her crew to do and ordering them around with her loud, booming voice.

She was intimidating in theory, yes. But towards you, she seemed a bit more.. lenient?

Nontheless, in a few days, you finally arrived at their next destination, and you stepped off the ship with everyone. Taking in the way the ground felt against your feet, no longer swaying from side to side.

You had no idea where you were, and even though it didn't seem like a bad place, you couldn't just start anew again. I mean, how were you supposed to rebuild your whole life?

Sevika sensed your anxiety as you wandered through the streets with her crew. She saw your eyes flick side to side, looking at the buildings and people.

She might regret it, but she couldn't just leave you here.

You were growing more worried by the hour, and when night fell and everyone started back to the docks, you felt lost. You stayed behind, watching them load back onto the ship when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. "You coming?"

Looking up, you locked eyes with Sevika, her brow was cocked and her lips slightly upturned. "You're letting me stay?" You questioned, in shock.

"Well, the ship is leaving soon, so only if you can make it." She teased.

You hugged her tight, wrapping your arms around her large frame. Her eyes widened in shock, not returning the hug before you ran off to the ship.

HC time !!

Now that you were deemed officially a part of the crew you had work to do, scrubbing the deck was a daily task. Even though other crew members seemed to dread it, you enjoyed smelling the fresh ocean air and feeling the wind on your back.

Sometimes you could feel Sevika's eyes on you as you cleaned, she sat at the helm, supposedly watching everyone. But when you turned around you would lock eyes with her and she would smirk.

When she sent the crew out on missions you grew to never be afraid, picking up on how to use weapons easily and fight alongside other people.

She almost admired this about you, it was like you were a natural. Like you belonged on her ship.

You didn't know what was on her mind most of the time. She was always closed off and didn't converse with anyone on ship except for Jinx, who was obviously closer to her than the rest of the crew.

But one fateful night you ran into her when you couldn't seem to get to sleep

You approached the bow of the ship, watching the moonlight reflect off the waves, and the clouds move with the wind. It was quite beautiful at night even though there wasn't much to look at other than water.

Hearing footsteps behind you, you put a hand to your holster but spun around to see Sevika. Seeing her in this light reminded you of the day you met her, but now you were in front of her, compared to the day she found you.

"Up so late?" She questioned, her voice indicated she had waken up recently.

"Yeah, I couldn't fall asleep," You let your guard down again and leaned against the wood, hand cradling your face as you stared back into the sea.

"Y'know.. I didn't think you had it in you." She commented.

"Had what in me?" You chuckled, "The guts to be a pirate?"

You talked for a long while after that, the sun hit the horizon by the time you said your goodbyes. You had a feeling that Sevika wouldn't be a mystery to you for much longer.

Eventually, she would come around to teach you how to fight properly, as you mostly fought based off of what you saw others do. She held your body close to hers, helping you mimic her movements. Feeling the buckles of her belts on your back, the coldness of her metal arm on your waist.

As a matter of fact she taught you a lot of things, like how to steer the ship: putting her hands over yours, pointing in the direction of where to go. Teasing you when your hands got tired, and taking over for you, letting you stand between her and the wheel.

She joined you in the crows nest, sitting beside you on the railing with a hand on your back, making sure you didn't fall. She would direct your telescope to look at nearby land or into the horizon.

You had a lot of talks up there.

Sometimes, the crew wondered what was going on between you two, as you were practically always together. (She denies all allegations.. for now)

She taught you how to wield a sword and fought with you for fun. Letting you win from time-to-time, you knew she let you. I mean, there's no way you'd be able to pin Sevika to the wooden deck without a struggle.

You would catch her sleeping on the helm, her feet kicked up on a chair and her hat on her face. As punishment, you would take her hat and keep it until morning. Then, prancing around the next day with it on, commanding the crew jokingly, pretending to be her.

When she finally caught you, she would sweep you up and take the hat right off your head, chuckling at your mischievousness. Sometimes, she would let you wear her hat, only if you promised not to lose it.

After particularly stressful missions, the crew would throw a small party for their winnings, needing time to wind down. You grew accustomed to the crew, even making a few friends with unlikely people.

You and Jinx drank a bit together and danced around on the table, singing sea shanties loudly. But eventually, Sevika would catch you all. And make you clean up. (But not before having a drink herself)

And it was almost a nightly routine to go up to the deck and talk once everyone was asleep, gazing into the moon with her. It felt natural. You felt like you belonged.

God i love her, i dream about her I swear. I love pirates... and I love sevika, pls send in more pirate sevika asks i wanna do a siren one too ngl maybe how Sevika isnt drawn in by your siren call because the captain is a woman AUGHHHHH

[ozzgin]

It is the 19th century and you are returning home by ship. Before you embark, you happen to find a glowing shell abandoned by the docks. It seems that the sea creatures are searching for it. Or maybe it's something else they're interested in. content: gender neutral reader, violence, dubious consent, based on Return of the Obra Dinn

January 1802 What's the matter with me, I wonder? As if my luggage wasn't heavy enough already, I had to drag around a big shell of sorts. Found it by the docks while I waited for my ship to arrive. It has a strange glow to it, this shell. Can't quite place it.

January 1802 Cheeky bastards! The seamen are such a flirt. From the moment I stepped onto the main deck, a handful of them haven't dropped the whistles and stares. One of the topmen - I recall he's Scottish? - he's been pestering me about the ship. "I'll show ye around, can't find a better guide," he says. His mates laugh and clap to his petty attempts.

February 1802 Some of the sailors are dying from lung illness. I was on the orlop deck, playing cards with the three Russians, when the surgeon rushed to one of the cabins ahead. "If it was contagious, we'd all have it by now. Damned if I know what it is, or where it comes from," I could hear him groan. I wondered out loud if I might catch it myself, but then I noticed one of 'em rascals trying to cheat the cards. February 1802 I saw it again tonight. Ever since we launched from Falmouth, as soon as the sun sets, there's an eerie glimmer in the distance. It reminds me of this damned shell. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Oh, the sea is so terrifying in the dark. There's nothing but black stretching all around. My window is low; whenever the waves break against it, the wooden walls let out a groan that awakens me from the deepest slumber. Surgeon gave me pills to sleep. The creaks of the ship sound like a weeping maiden. February 1802 I think the cursed glow is getting closer. I couldn't sleep anymore, so I snuck onto the main deck. Scotsman found me wandering towards the bow, so he quietly hoisted me up by the waist. I thought he'd tell the Captain, but he sat me on the lower rigging, next to him, and we listened to the waves. I was afraid I'd fall off, but he kept a steady hand on me. I wish I could tell him about the light stalking our ship. Would he think I'm mad?

February 1802 Second Mate returned today on a small boat. We heard shouts coming from upstairs, so we rushed to see what was happening. Bosun had his pistol readied next to the Captain, and the sailors lifted the cargo from below. I thought I was dreaming at first. Some creatures, unholy beings, were caught in the net. They had the body of a human, but thick, fish tails covered in spikes. One of the Formosan passengers muttered something in Chinese, and some of the tail spikes suddenly pierced him dead. The old Miss next to me fainted on the spot, and the stewards urged us to leave. Right before I turned, I noticed one of the beasts pointing at me. It had a monstrous grin on its face. Oh, what a sight! The Scotsman guided me away, but I can't forget those eyes. Was it malice? Such an intense stare, burning straight into my soul. Now that I'm writing all this, a memory has come to mind: the creature had the same shell as mine, dangling from its neck.

February 1802 The pills no longer work. I can't rest anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I hear its wretched voice, calling me from the lazarette. That's where they locked those sea monsters. It sings nonsense, blasphemous lies. We're not fated soulmates. I've nothing to do with those devils. I should've never picked up the shell. I can only pray we reach land soon.

March 1802 God, oh God, what disaster has befallen us? I don't have much time. The gun deck is in shambles, more than half the crew dead. Underwater beasts have crawled their way up our ship; strange humans with spears, saddled on top of crabs larger than I've ever seen. The poor midshipman, oh, a young boy! He set himself on fire to stop the nightmarish fiend. Threw the lamp across the floor, and the flames swallowed both of them up. I scrambled up on the main deck, but there was no peace to be found; colossal tentacles sprawled around the ship, pulling the rigging apart, tearing humans like insects. The Captain's wife was struck by a falling pillar, I saw her crumble right before me. Scotsman is still alive, but his arm is missing a good chunk of it. I don't know where to find the surgeon.

March 1803 They left. They took the last boat, I only found out this morning. I tried to join them, but one of the sailors stopped me. "Witch," he shouted at me, "the beast down by the cargo hold screams your name. You must've called it here, brought this curse upon us." I don't know what he's talking about. Tonight I'm going to the lazarette, I can no longer bear the calling. This blasted fiend, oh, he's ruined me. I'll rot on this wreck. Mother, I don't think I'll ever reach the shore.

Your steps are hesitant as you tiptoe your way around the dried blood and debris, until you reach the locked chambers. The door is bent and folded away, as if hit by a great force. You do indeed notice the round prints against the rusty surface: giant suckers from a blasphemous being.

There he is, the wicked varmint who plagues your sleep! A pale creature is propped up, halfway out of the water, welcoming you with a toothy grin. The shell around his neck glows mockingly.

You throw your own shell at him. The small, ivory object rolls with a hollow thud.

"Is this what you wanted, damned monster?"

"Why, what am I to do with two?"

His voice is harsh and deep, rapping against your eardrums, scratching the inside of your head.

"I've been waiting for you. Can't leave this place without my beloved, can I?"

"There you go again with this nonsense. Villain! Drown me if you must, but spare me your deceit."

His smile falters, eyes narrowing in a frown.

"Is that how you find my love? Some petty lie told by a charlatan? Ungrateful brat, who do you think freed you from their shackles? Who do you suspect has summoned the leviathan, from the deepest trenches of the sea, to save your mortal soul?"

"The kraken left with the storm," you counter as the blood drains from your face. Could it be that you were to blame, after all?

"No, it left after the bargain."

He pulls himself up and sits on the edge of his former cage. You observe his features in mild awe: the texture of his skin, the dark locks of hair reaching all the way to the tail, the spikes breaking out of the thick, hard scales.

"What bargain," you ask fearfully.

"The last ones are free to escape, if they leave you to me."

Why, your horrified expression is not quite something he expected. Surely one must feel relief once their freedom has been guaranteed. And not just any kind of freedom - you've been returned to your soulmate.

He's spent weeks chasing the currents, trailing the faint glow in the distance. He hasn't stopped once, tail pushing forward to the promise of a reunion.

Yet, you seem unsure. Perhaps his approach has been too hurried, too nonchalant. You need a little bit of convincing, and he happens to be a master of courting.

His thorax suddenly expands, and you can almost hear the twisting sound of his ribs cracking and breaking under the pressure. A sweet voice rolls out of his mouth, a song you've never heard before. Your heart pounds tremendously, threatening to burst out of your chest, and a foreign panic floods your senses.

Despite your desire to flee, your lids are heavy, eyes slowly closing. Through your lashes, you can discern the beast crawling towards you, the same defiant grin plastered on his face.

It's time for you to come home.

[ceilidho]

'still wakes the deep' au

prompt: You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works. First Meeting masterlist

-

Choppy waters like Neptune’s eye meet your gaze when you look back at where you came from, the land on the other side but a beige striation on the horizon. 

“Afraid of heights, doctor?” your escort asks, his amusement borderline distasteful. It must stroke their ego to watch newcomers come aboard and flounder, gawking at the swells and waves crashing against the oil rig, each wave so cataclysmic that it’s a wonder the structure stays upright. A wonder of engineering, that is. 

The rig manager stands closer to the railing, staring without fear out into the ocean surrounding you. His sea legs are likelier studier than the ones that wash up ashore every fourteen days when he’s due for his OSHA mandated break. His knees don’t even buckle at the sight of the barnacles clinging nerve-wrackingly high up on the rig legs. Far too high up for comfort. 

“No, sir,” you reply, shaking your head. “Just water.”

He barks a laugh at that. “Plenny o’ that around here. Wouldn’y go leaning my head over the rail then, if I was you.”

You take another look down, balking at the frothy white streaking the latticework barrier around the jacket legs. No worries there; there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll be going anywhere near the rails. You’re too high up to know for sure, but you wonder if there are sharks plumbing the depths beneath the rig, excited by the noise and activity on board. 

You’d be shark chum if you went overboard. Beyond that, you’d be fish food; no sympathy from the sea to be found this far from land. 

“Where should I set up?” you ask instead. 

Sensing your eagerness to get started—and to get away from the edge of the rig—he gestures for you to follow him and sets off towards the door closest to you, leading you into the interior of the rig. “This way, doc—got a room already set up for ye. Cozier in there than out here.”

The first few days aren’t so bad after that. You spend the first day getting unpacked, your suitcase already waiting for you in your quarters, which doubles as your office, and then turn in early after prepping for the next day. 

As anticipated, you spend the next day hunched over the toilet bowl, stomach roiling from spending too long staring at the turbulent waters below. You’ve done this before but it never gets any easier. Despite your chosen field of research, you’re suited for dry land, not the sea. It’s the price you have to pay though. 

No coffee that first morning. Just tea to help settle your stomach. And it does for a bit—lets you get through your first day worth of tests without you upchucking while collecting water samples from the discharge point. You’ll save your indoor work for the days when the crests of the waves are high enough to spray the working deck. By dinner, your stomach is a little more settled, but still you elect to eat in your quarters instead of with the workers in the mess. 

You haven’t been on the rig long enough to have made any enemies, nor do you think that’s something that’ll happen during your brief time on board, but you definitely haven’t made any friends. It comes with the territory. The men that work on these rigs out in the middle of the ocean—even the ones on land, for that matter—tend to view your kind with distrust at the very least, if not outright hostility. 

It’s hard to blame them. The purpose of your visit isn’t to shower them with praises. You’re stationed on the rig for the next few days to collect data and samples to assess the environmental impact of the rig’s operations. It puts you somewhat at odds with them, the outcome of your work being potentially to the detriment of theirs. 

Some whisper the word like blasphemy. Government worker. They say it like you’re the Baba Yaga or a witch living in a cottage at the edge of the village, like uttering the word too loudly will summon you. There’s too much work to do around the rig for them to cluck their tongues like gossipy hens, but the men find time for it anyway. You’d roll your eyes if you were any greener. 

The truth is though, you’re used to it, and at this point in your career, you don’t have it in you to act like it’s such a shock that they wouldn’t give you the red carpet treatment. All you need is a hot cup of coffee, an office (or even just a desk) to write your reports, and some space to conduct your research without being badgered with questions.

Most of the men tend to blur together, a medley of fluorescent yellow hard hats and navy coveralls, respirators strung around their necks and goggles covering their eyes. It’s easy enough to mistake them for one another. 

Only one of them has managed to catch your eye so far, though you can’t say it’s for a particularly good reason. Of the lot of them, he’s the loudest. Which is saying something, considering that the crew tend to speak in shouts and hollers to make up for the crashing waves beneath them and the howling winds above them. He’s also among the tallest, broad shouldered and muscled—a former first responder or military, if you had to guess, though you keep your assumptions to yourself. 

You know better than to ask questions around him because you’ve learned in the short time that you’ve spent on the rig not to give him—Soap, they call him, or MacTavish when the rig manager is particularly pissed off—even an inch. 

It’s another crew member that gives you that heads up. “Din’y pay him any mind.”

“Who?” you ask, looking up from your work.

The crew member nods to the man posted on the other side of the main deck. “Soap. Bit of a showboat, that one. Always stirrin’ up the boys, gettin’ ‘em all riled up. Din’y let him distract ye too much.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You look back down at the data sheets in front of you. “I’m not worried though. He hasn’t been too much trouble.”

Famous last words. 

He isn’t too much trouble until he suddenly is; until he’s suddenly everywhere, always in your way somehow. Not so much underfoot as just always around the corner waiting with his stupid smug smirk that you’ve grown to despise and half-lidded electric blue eyes roving up and down the length of you. Aggravating you at every turn. 

Your first meeting is an accident. At least, it seems that way, and likely is—he seems too blunt for coincidences or chance meetings, happy to tell you to your face that he manipulated the situation in order to get you on your own. 

You’re wandering down one of the many circulatory hallways and slightly lost when a door suddenly opens, blocking your way. A jumpsuit-clad man twice your size walks out, his hair just brushing the top of the doorframe. Though you recognize him instantly, you’d never gotten close enough for the details to cement in your mental image of him. Up close, you get a better look.

The faint lines around his eyes and mouth betray either his age or the life he’s lived. Weathered; bronzed from days at a time spent under the sun. You’d noticed the mohawk earlier, but staring at the side of his head now, you can see the faint puckering of a healed wound splintering out from his temple into his hairline. Though the sides of his head are freshly shorn, the scar looks old—maybe a year, maybe more. 

When he notices that he’s not alone in the hall, his head turns in your direction and he stops, one foot still in the other room. Two thick brows go up at the sight of you standing there with your tablet clutched to your chest. 

“Hullo gorgeous,” Soap purrs, pupils suddenly pinpricks and your stomach drops. 

Because of course he would. You’d long figured he might be an arrogant piece of work from what little you’ve observed of him from across the rig, but you should’ve known he’d also be a flirt. He’s too good-looking not to be one. Tall and broad, with biceps the size of your head. You’re sure he rolls his shirt sleeves up just to feel them strain against the muscles of his arms. You certainly can’t help the way your eyes are drawn there. 

“Ah ken who ye are,” he says, taking a step towards you until the tips of his boots nearly touch yours. The door is still wide open behind him, swinging slowly towards the wall behind it. Soap towers over you easily, tipping his head to stare down at you. Your lips press into a tight line when his eyes drop to your chest, staring at the outline of your tits through your cardigan. 

“Okay,” you say through stiff lips.

“Yer that lass from the government. Ah thought ye'd be auld,” he jokes, shit-eating grin on his face. 

You nearly groan. It’s too early for this shit and you’re too tired from being up all night working on your report on the rig’s discharge water quality. 

“Well, I’m not,” you reply woodenly instead, altogether unimpressed with him. 

For as fit as he is, you’re not here to flirt or hookup, and you’re good at separating work and your personal life. If anyone manages to get under your skin enough to tempt you, it won’t be the man undressing you with his eyes while covered in a thin layer of grime and sweat. 

“Nae, yer no’,” he agrees, voice a low burr. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m John, by the way.”

“I know.”

“…It’s polite tae give yer name when someone introduces thersel's tae ye.”

“I’d rather you just call me doctor.”

“Doctor, eh?” Soap purrs, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Dae ye dae house calls, doc? Hae been feelin’ a wee bit feverish lately.”

You can’t help the way your cheeks heat at his comment. “Not that kind of doctor. Do you mind getting out of the way?”

“Jesus, I din’y ken ye’d be so fuckin’ prickly. Thought ye government workers were cheery a' the time.”

“Not when we have work to do,” you bite out, decidedly uncomfortable with his shameless perusal and eager just to get on with your day. “Can you move please? I have somewhere to be.”

All that does is force him to take another step closer, toe-to-toe with you now. You should’ve known he’d take that as an invitation. He reeks of grease and brine, the smell pungent and clinging to his skin and clothes. Almost like he sleeps and works in the same pair of coveralls instead of bringing his dirty clothes down to the laundry facility like everyone else at the end of the week. 

You tell yourself to stop staring at where his coveralls open to a sweat-slicked chest, dark hair poking up over the neckline, but your eyes don’t comply. A small cross dangles from a chain around his neck, nestled in the hair just above his pecs. 

“Good Catholic lass, are ye?” Soap asks, noticing the focal point of your gaze.

You scrunch up your nose at that. “No. I didn’t—it’s none of your business anyway.”

The stutter is where his eyes light up, a little gleam in the blue that lets you know you’ve caught his interest. Like seeing a storm well off in the distance and bracing for it anyway, knowing that you’re in its path no matter what you do. 

“A’right, doc, Ah'll leave ye tae it. Gotta get back myself anyway,” he says, rolling his shoulders back and standing up taller, and it’s only in that moment that you realize how low his neck had been bent in order to get closer to you. “Wait. I can’y let ye go lookin’ like that.”

You’re about to ask him what he means when he suddenly grabs you by the front of your cardigan and pulls you towards him, getting the grease on his hands all over the fabric. Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull as he pops the topmost button into its corresponding hole, the only one you’d left purposefully loose. 

The only reason you don’t snap at him to take his hands off you is because your tongue is a knot in your throat. 

“There we go,” Soap coos when the button is in, looking down at his handiwork all over the front of your shirt. “Lookin’ like part o’ the crew already.”

Your heart pounds in your chest long after he lets you go. When he steps to the side, the door flush with the wall by now, you dart around him, walking away as fast as your legs can carry you without sprinting. You ignore the way he belts out a laugh at your swift departure. Ignore the way your stomach cramps at the sound as well. 

He might end up being more trouble than you thought.

[charliemwrites]

Hiiiii! So I’m not super thrilled with this but I’ve been having a time of it at work so I worked on this when I could 🙃

Not sure if there will be a second part yet tbh we’ll see!

Edit: almost forgot to add that the gorgeous divider below is by @gildui they have some absolutely beautiful cod themed dividers.

Carrion

Reader comes back Wrong

Content: implied/referenced torture, injury, suicide reference/implicated “pact” (by background character), lack of wound care

The breakup was bad.

Not in the top 3 of Simon’s worst nightmare-inducing memories - but likely top 5. He certainly wakes up chest aching and eyes burning often enough for it to be a solid contender. He’s haunted by tears that dripped like acid and the cracks in your voice deafening him.

On bad days, he thinks he can still see you shuffling down the halls, eyes sunken and red-rimmed, dark circles and chapped lips. Anger giving way to resignation giving way to pain and sadness. The rest of the team tight-lipped and wincing, no sides taken, shoulders and ears offered equally in commiseration.

Your misery wanted no company, though.

You didn’t tell Simon that you were leaving. Gaz let slip over a subdued but obligatory game of cards, you’d be gone for a long time - loaned out to Laswell.

Simon didn’t go to see you off. Didn’t ask why you were leaving or accuse you of being too immature to be on a team with him. He didn’t wish you good luck, stay safe with the rest of the team on the tarmac at 0-dark when you took off.

He should have.

Price says you’ll be gone for six months. Just six. It’s better this way, he reminds them when Johnny balks. His eyes are on Simon, though, when he adds that you need to get your head on straight, and you weren’t able to do it with them.

So. Six months.

Simon stops expecting you on his left. Stops smelling your shampoo lingering on bits of clothes he pretended not to notice you steal. He still dreams about you begging him not to push you away.

183 days come and go.

On day 184, Laswell sends word - your temporary team likes you quite a bit. They want you to stay on for one more month… one more mission… one more…

Six months turns to ten.

312 days since you left; since you were home.

The team hasn’t stopped leaving a space for you at their tables, right between Gaz and Price. You miss your own birthday. Laswell says she’ll pass along well wishes.

The situation changes. A target resurfaces. All hands on deck, including yours.

374 days. Twelve months and some change.

They don’t spend the holidays with you, but there’s a stack of presents waiting in Price’s office. Your mugs have collected dust in the back of the rec room cabinet.

Laswell says you’re still deployed on one last mission, return TBD. Soon, though.

487 days. Still TBD. Soon. Really. Just some loose ends to tie up.

561 days. There was some trouble during exfil but you’re alright. Just a bit of recovery.

You’re coming home.

590 days. You’ll land at 0700 tomorrow.

It’s been 591 days since Simon last saw you. Since any of them last saw you.

Laswell has come to deliver you personally, a kind of apology for keeping you away so long. She’s the first off the transport and you’re right behind her.

Your hair is shorter. Much, much shorter. There’s a new patch on your jacket - memento from your temporary team, Simon figures.

Apart from that, you look… almost exactly how you did when you left. Dark circles under your eyes, mouth drawn and tight. There’s invisible weight compressing your shoulders, urging them in and down. But you’re there again. Just the way he remembers.

(Why are you the way he remembers?)

“Long time, no see,” Gaz calls, reaching for you.

There’s half a beat, you blink. Hesitate.

Then you grin and reach back.

“Missed my pretty face, did you?” you reply.

Johnny laughs and brings you in for a hug. You twitch hug him back, patting his shoulder as you pull away.

“Good to have you back, Sergeant,” Price says, shaking your hand.

You turn to Simon, nod in greeting, expression pleasant. “Ghost.”

So that’s how it’ll be? Alright.

“Sergeant.”

That night, you go out for drinks with the team and Laswell. Simon goes along to show there are no hard feelings.

(Not that you seem to need reassurance. It’s not even that you’re not looking at him. You are. Whenever he speaks, the rare times he does, or if he shifts in his seat. Your gaze doesn’t linger or jerk away, you treat him like you do Johnny and Gaz and Price.)

When Johnny mixes up your usual for Price’s, you don’t even seem to notice. But Simon does.

“When did you start drinking whiskey?” he wonders.

You used to swear you’d never like it, claiming it tasted like boot polish and the “Boys Club” wasn’t worth the indigestion it gave you.

“Someone from my other team,” you say by way of explanation.

You don’t ask for another whiskey. Laswell gets the rest of your drinks for that night.

Simon turns into the rec room two days later and finds you already there. There’s only the light above the sink on, and you’re staring at the steady drip, drip, drip from the faucet. A cup of black coffee cools in your hand. You’re already wearing gloves.

“Sugar’s in the left now,” he calls.

Your head twitches, something pops in your neck.

“Oh, thanks,” you chirp, turning for the cabinet. “Sleep okay, LT?”

“‘Bout as well as I ever do,” he replies gruffly, sidling up next to you for the kettle.

You hum. There’s a yellow packet in your hand. (Didn’t you used to like the blue one?)

“I get that,” you sympathize.

He snorts. Since when?

“Do you?”

When he glances down, you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re trying (and failing) to get the sink to stop dripping.

“You know that’s been broken for ages,” he says.

At least as long as the 141 has been around. You tried to fix it once when you first joined up, too, with no luck.

“Right,” you say. A little too quickly, a little too agreeably. “Well, anyway, enjoy your tea, Lieutenant.”

You leave the packet of sugar behind. Unopened.

You’re back and it’s like it used to be - not just before you left, but before the breakup. Before there was ever anything to break up.

Your time away seems to have given you whatever space from Simon you were hoping for, because you act like there was never anything at all.

He’s half expecting, dreading, that you’ll pull him aside at some point. Ask for a word after dinner, or swing by his room before bed. Talk about the break up now that cooler heads prevail and 19 months have sanded down the rough feelings. Seek closure, maybe.

But you don’t. The weeks pass until a month has gone and you never exchange more than easy pleasantries with Simon. You give him space, give him privacy. Things you never used to give him much of before, for better or worse.

You fool around with Gaz and Johnny, trade quips with Price, and follow Simon’s orders. Train recruits. Write reports.

You’re back, better than ever.

So why does it feel like Simon’s still waiting for you to return?

You’re always dressed now, head to toe. Day or night, rain or shine. From the neck down you’re in full sleeves, long pants, boots and gloves.

It doesn’t occur to anyone until you’re sweating through your compression shirt in the gym. Wipe your shiny forehead for the dozenth time before Johnny says, “why not just take it off?”

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh, waving him off.

When you lie down to bench press, Simon notes the bottom of your shirt tucked tight into your waistband. He exchanges a glance with Johnny - he’s seen it too.

You used to dress in shorts and sports bras during exercise, a towel over your shoulder. In the common room, you’d mill in tank-tops and boxers. Even used to trot down the hall swaddled in a towel or robe, mumbling that you forgot a razor or some other toiletry before showering.

“What, did ye get an embarrassing tattoo or somethin’?” Johnny asks finally.

You blink at him, expression bemused. “A tattoo? Why do you think I have a tattoo?”

“Yer covered up like a nun on Sunday. It cannae be comfortable.”

You snort. “Just because you’re allergic to clothes, MacTavish…”

“Allergic?! Wha’s tha’ s’posed t’mean?!”

Gaz barks a laugh. You grin and continue your workout.

Simon tries not to be disturbed by the name “MacTavish” coming off your tongue for the first time since you met.

It’s your first mission since you’ve been back. You have new gear, a new handgun. Something’s been carved into the side of the barrel in Cyrillic, Simon can’t read it. A new callsign.

(“What kind of a name is Carry-on?” Johnny teases, but he doesn’t quite hide the unease in his eyes.

You snort and lace your boots tighter. The edge of you sleeve inches up, revealing the curve of a glossy scar that wasn’t there before.

“You’re one to talk Mister Maybelline.”)

Someone painted an upside down cross on the temple of your helmet with their finger. You thumb it before stuffing it over your head.

“You ready for this?” Gaz asks, knocking his knee into yours. The two of you have been paired together for this mission. (Was it Simon’s imagination, or did you look annoyed that you would have a partner?)

“Always,” you reply.

Simon doesn’t hear what happens, but Gaz looks shellshocked when you haul him into the helicopter during exfil. You shake him a bit once everything is secure and the bird’s in the air.

“Garrick,” you shout, “c’mon, where did he get you?”

It takes him a second but he blinks, offers his arm for your inspection. You move with a speed even Simon is impressed by, tearing into the nearby med kit almost viciously. Gaz is patched up in record time and you sit back with blood on your hands, barely even seem to notice as you wipe them carelessly on your pants.

(You used to be more squeamish, weren’t you? You used to be the last one they asked for medical care because seeing your teammates in pain made you nauseous.)

“What about you?” Gaz asks after a small eternity.

You yawn. “What about me?”

“You got nicked too, didn’t you?”

Simon takes a second look at you and now that Gaz mentions it, you’re soaked in blood. Wet patches on your vest, your pants, dripping down your boots. It takes him a moment to notice the tear in your thigh, shredded flesh visible when you rock with the wind turbulence.

“Did I?” you wonder, glancing down like you only just noticed it.

Johnny curses, reaches for you - but you wave him off.

“It’s just a scratch,” you reply. “Barely even feel it, no worries.”

Then why is it still bleeding?

When the team lands, you hop off the heli without so much as a wince. Droplets of blood lead all the way back to your room.

(When Simon asks Nikolai about the hand-etching on your gun, he says the word means “promise.”)

In the after-action report, your callsign isn’t “Carry-On.” It’s Carrion.

Laswell takes you off the mission two months later, a joint assignment with KorTac. They send three operators to work with TF141 - Stiletto, Konig, and Nikto.

On the transport to infil, Simon notices the Russian inspecting his handgun in a seat separated from the rest of the squad. He recognizes the Cyrillic carved into the barrel this time: Promise.

It’s an eerie, creeping suspicion. An anxious fog rolling in.

It’s not one single thing that trips an alarm in Simon’s head, but a steady collation of oddities over months. A single arhythmic beat, a note off key. Just once or twice, but over and over until he can’t notice anything else.

You act just like yourself except for all the minute ways you don’t.

You smile big and wide, sunshine bright, when they make a good joke. Your laugh is still the same, bubbling up in your throat, head thrown back. You smell the same when you pass Simon in the hall, shampoo and soap that’s haunted him for a year and a half.

It’s insidiously subtle; he can’t pinpoint what it is for the longest time. Your mannerisms are almost too practiced, the cadence of your voice too measured. A missing turn of phrase you often used, replaced by something unfamiliar.

Simon dismisses it as guilt-laden paranoia. The two of you ended on bad terms with a year and half worth of space between. He’s hardly one to gauge what’s normal for you anymore.

And besides, the few times someone else has noticed at those tiny yet all-too-obvious inconsistencies, you shrug it off as something you picked up while away.

But he catches Johnny’s brows furrow one afternoon as you light up a cig (after swearing for years that you’d never pick up the habit) and Simon knows he’s beginning to see it too.

“You ever notice,” Gaz begins slowly. You’re the only one missing from the rec room this evening, retired with a drawn-out yawn. “That Carrion always mentions being away, but never talks about it?”

Simon stills. Johnny’s eyes fly to Price, who’s grimly tapping at his crossword puzzle.

“The file’s redacted,” he says. He’s seen it too then, tried to investigate for himself.

“That’s normal for a mission like that,” Simon reasons carefully.

“I don’t mean the mission,” Price says. “I mean Carrion’s file.”

“This is a good movie,” you mumble from the armchair you’ve stolen from Price. “What’s it called?”

Simon exchanges glances with the rest of the team. No one points out that this is (used to be?) your favorite.

Price looks into the team you were loaned out to. All were KIA or remain MIA. All but one. His file has been scrubbed too, the only documents readable are discharge orders and a PMC contract, both associated with the callsign “Nikto.”

They’re running out of time.

Less than 36 hours on the clock with only one lead, and it’s a zealot with a suicide pact. Price and Laswell both took a crack at him with nothing to show for it. Even Ghost has gotten hardly anything and he’s running out of nails. With time, he might get something useful, but they don’t have much of that left.

In the anteroom looking into interrogation, you’ve been observing through the one-way glass with your hands in your pockets, head tilted, expression serene.

Price and Laswell are discussing strategy, contingencies. Gaz and Johnny are throwing in their two cents, but Simon… Simon is watching you.

Like medical, torture used to be your Achilles. You were trained like the rest of the team, but there was never any need for you to step into the room yourself. Hell, you were a last resort even for observation or emergency resuscitation. No one blamed you for having a weak stomach for information extraction.

But today, you glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Laswell.

“I’ll handle it,” you say with an air of finality.

The room goes silent. Price opens his mouth, but it’s Laswell that speaks, voice hard with resignation.

“Do it.”

You don’t blink. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walk out the door without a backwards glance, shoulders loose but each step steady and purposeful.

“What the hell is going on, Kate?” Price demands.

Kate sighs, looks away as you enter the interrogation room.

“Let’s do this outside. It won’t take long to get that intel.”

The only thing she’s able to share is that you and your team were captured. For a long time. And then you’re already stepping out of the interrogation room, wiping your bloodied hands off on an old rag.

There’s an unusual glint in your eye, an unnatural stillness in your expression.

“Got what we need,” you announce cheerfully.

[goingsunnythousandmerry]

Sex Pollen Exposed Reader  X Captains- Shanks, Luffy, Law

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long. The poll winner was a reader exposed to sex pollen begging her captain for help. Hope you enjoy it! Request, comment, critique below! Thanks for reading friends!

Warnings: MDNI, female masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, P in V sex, drugged food/perfume, aphrodisiac/sex pollen, praise kink, nicknames, dom (law), needy reader, I don’t own these characters

Shanks

The Red-Haired Pirates landed on an island under their protection and decided to stay awhile to plan their next move. Last night, the crew partied hard celebrating their recent successes. The next morning the crew slept late and then ventured onto the island to start the next round of celebratory drinking. You, a member of the Red-Haired Pirates, were not quite ready to start partying again after the craziness of the previous night. Your Captain also chose to stay aboard the ship a while longer to nurse his killer hangover.

It was mid-afternoon when you wandered out from your cabin. As you creaked the door to the ship deck, the harsh sun met your eyes. You moaned in distress and covered your face with your hand and stepped out onto the deck. You took a deep breath and adjusted to the feeling of the warm summer sun soaking the exposed skin that your sundress failed to cover. The salty air helped relax some of the tension in your body from your hangover-caused headache. You wandered the ship deck looking out at the ocean and taking in the sights of the nearby island. As you glanced further up the deck, you noticed your captain sleepily resting face-first in a lawn chair. You chuckled at the sight of him. He slightly lifted his head to gaze at you over his shoulders as he heard your gentle footsteps grow close.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?” Shanks asked before burying his face back in his arm on the lawn chair.

“I’ve been better.” You replied as you rubbed your fingers on your forehead, then through your hair. “How are you, Captain?” You asked as you sat down at the edge of the lawn chair beside him.

“Been better is an understatement. Who’s idea was it to let me drink so much last night?”

“Oh, that would be no one’s, but your own.” You replied with a soft chuckle.

“The boys are already out at it again. They should be expecting us soon.”

“I’m not sure I'm ready for that.” You added as you stared over at the island beyond your ship.

“Me neither,” Shanks mumbled. “One of the local women did give me what they claimed was a hangover cure. We could try it to see if it works.” He replied as he raised his head just enough to peak up at you.

You looked over at him and smirked. He smiled back at you. As you thought about his offer you studied the man beside you. His white button-up shirt blew in the wind over his back. His red hair messily lay across his face to hide his eyes from the sun. He and his dumb white shirts were all you could think about late at night. His white shirts showed his exposed chest and only helped emphasize his muscular build. You couldn’t help but be attracted to Shanks. He was strong, kind, and a good leader. You found him very down to earth for someone of his standing as an emperor of the sea and former member of Roger’s crew. However, he was your captain, and you occasionally thought you saw a twinkle in his eye when he looked at you. You knew nothing could come of it as you were one of his subordinates. He told you as much when he allowed you to join his crew. Your recruitment was conditional based on your not sleeping with any of your crewmates. You’d rolled your eyes at him at the time, but your mind too often raced with the thoughts of the fun you could have with your captain. You breathed deeply and closed your eyes, before turning to face Shanks again.

“I’d try anything at this point.” You said through gritted teeth as you fought to see him through squinted eyes in the bright sun.

“Good. You can try it first and tell me if it works.” Shanks said as he quickly sat up. He paused before rising from the chair to bring a hand to his now-pounding head.

“Try it first?!” You yelled as you tried to stifle a laugh as you watched your captain struggle with the consequences of his drinking choices. “You good, Captain?” You asked.

“Yeah. Just got up too fast.” He replied, removing his hand from his face and blinking his eyes slowly. “I’ll go get it.”

He got up slowly from the lawn chair and found his way to his cabin, stumbling occasionally along the way. You stayed sitting on the lawn chair, closing your eyes to focus on the sound of the waves. The sounds helped soothe your aching head. A few minutes later clunking footsteps returned to your side and you opened your eyes to see Shanks handing you a bottle. You took it and studied the green bottle, the liquid inside appeared clear, but bubbly.

“What is it?” You asked as you hesitantly took off the lid and sniffed it. The liquid smelled of roses and vanilla.

“Don’t know. Like I said, a local handed it to me last night. She said it was a hangover cure. She told me to try it and let her know if it helps.” Shanks replied as he stared at you with raised eyebrows.

“Smells too sweet to be a hangover cure. You try it first.”

“No way! I like to cure my hangovers the old-fashioned way. You look rough though. I thought this could help.” Shanks said with a kind grin.

“I look rough?” You asked with a furrowed brow and pouting lips as you took a swig of the mysterious liquid.

“No. I mean. You look… I mean...I can tell you’re hungover.” Shanks stumbled over himself as he rubbed the back of his head. “How is it?”

You laughed as you looked up at him and took another sip. “Not bad. Just too sweet for me. Probably won't be able to finish it, but my stomach is a bit calmer.” You replied. “Thanks.” 

The two of you talked for a bit. You finished most of the bottle before you grew tired of the taste. Your headache felt better, but the heat bothered you a little more. Shanks eventually went to his chambers to lie down for a bit and you returned to your cabin to grab a book and read. You knew you’d inevitably have to spend another wild night with your crew, so you decided to relax. 

As you tried to focus on reading in your cabin, you realized the heat was still getting to you. Now, out of the way of the sun, you knew something else was going on. You pondered if it was just a side effect of your hangover. You’d never had one as intense as the one you’d experienced this morning and could only attribute it to the intensity of your celebration. Focusing on your book became harder as your body became restless. Your heart started to race as sweat beads formed on your brow. Your fingertips grazed your forehead to wipe the sweat. As you did, your breath stopped in your chest. You remembered the odd beverage Shanks had given to you. You feared you may have been allergic to something in it and grew nervous. You slowly and shakily rose from your bed and exited your cabin to find Shanks. A quick look around the deck resulted in no sign of your captain or your crew. You remembered Shanks had gone to his cabin to cool off and rest. You headed into the interior of the ship to find him.

Upon arriving at his chambers you hesitated, wondering if it was worth bothering your severely hungover Captain. You wiped your wet brow again and shivered at your touch. You exhaled sharply. Something was wrong with you, and you needed help. You bit your lip and shifted on your feet, clenching your thighs together. The warmth was oddly mostly in between your legs and in your abdomen. Though you felt hot everywhere, why was the heat greatest there, you couldn’t help but wonder. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before softly knocking on the door to your captain’s cabin.

“Shanks?” You called out with a hard swallow before your teeth returned to digging into your lower lip.

“Hmm?” A voice mumbled as you heard shuffling heavy footsteps headed to the door.

The door opened and a shirtless Shanks stood in the door frame. He rubbed his still-heavy eyelids and looked at you. He blinked hard a few times and turned his head to examine you. As he looked at you, you shifted in place and wiped your forehead again. You could feel the pink hue on your cheeks as he stared at you. The heat between your legs grew as you lifted your gaze from his feet, over his naked chest, and up to meet his intense stare. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Shanks questioned as he stepped forward to grab your waist as you stumbled where you stood.

You bit your lip harder, stifling a moan as his strong calloused hand moved to rest upon the open back of your dress. You swallowed hard as you lifted your eyes to meet his. His warm breath hit your chest, causing goosebumps to shoot up your spine. You looked at him through your eyelashes and suddenly, you found it hard to catch your breath.

“I think I may have been allergic to... To something in that drink…” You muttered as you lifted your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself.

Your hands shook as they connected with your captain’s muscular physique. You licked your lips and swallowed hard. Feeling the heat continue to grow between your legs, you rubbed your legs together as your hands slid down his chest. As your hands rested on his pecks, you realized what was happening.

“I’m fine. I just. Maybe I need to lie down for a bit.” You said with a gulp.

“No, You’re not. I’ll fetch a doctor. Here rest. I’ll see if anyone has come back yet.” Shanks said as he picked you up and carried you into his room.

His strong hand on your bare legs caused you to moan again. You tried to hide it, but you knew as the drink worked more of its magic, you were becoming weaker by the second to its tricks. The aphrodisiac in that drink was consuming your being. You felt you only had moments to act before your chest exploded with need, the need to be touched. The need to please the feral growl aching between your legs sang louder. You nodded to Shanks as he laid you down on the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” Shanks called as he anxiously ran out of the room.

You knew you only had a short amount of time. You finally knew what your symptoms were. You knew how to satisfy them. Satisfy the need. You only hoped you could do it before your captain came back. You couldn’t think clearly about the consequences or the embarrassment if you couldn’t. All you could think of was the need. You had to touch yourself. 

You wiped your brow with your right hand and licked your lips. You delicately traced your fingers down your neck until your fingertips met the soft tissue of your breast. You began pulling at the neckline of your dress, the heat within you made you feel as if your small sundress was too much. As the fabric moved it grazed your erect nipples, sending a chill throughout your body. Your breath grew shallow and quick as one hand played with your breasts and removed them from the thin fabric of your dress. The heat between your legs beckoned louder as your other hand traveled down the soft fabric across your abdomen. Your hands stopped at the hem of your dress and rested upon your thigh. 

Your thumb and forefinger squeezed and twisted at your nipple causing a small moan to escape your lips. Your eyes closed and you laid your head back into Shanks’ pillow. The fingers of your right hand now drew circles upon your inner thigh as they inched closer and closer to your core. You bit your lower lip and hooked your pinky and ring finger around the string of your thong, pulling it down to your ankles. The cold air on your soaking wet core caused your breath to catch in your throat. Your fingers slid back up your legs to your core where they became mesmerized in tracing the shape of your slick sex. You bent your knees, placing your feet flat and wide on the bed beneath you. You clamped down as your fingertips brushed against your clit.

As you played with yourself, one hand on your breast the other at your core, the need to touch yourself from the sex pollen consuming you, the world around you faded away. Drool dripped down your chin as your teeth dug deeper into your bottom lip. Sweet moans escaped your lips as your fingers dipped into and stared scissoring in and out of your entrance. Finally, caving to the feral need within you, you didn’t notice the footsteps or the voice calling.

“Y/N, everyone is still gone. I’ll go ashore and get…” The voice began from down the hall but stopped as its owner found himself at the entrance to the bedroom.

Shanks stopped dead in his tracks just outside the room. Before him was you in the bed where he left you, only you were in a new state. Soft moans were filling his ears as you lay half-naked with your fingers pounding in and out of your core. Your eyes were closed and your head was back against his pillow. Your hips ground to meet your palm. His breath caught in his chest as he watched you with wide eyes. He gulped hard and stepped into the room, saying your name louder this time.

“Y/N.” Shanks said.

Your eyes shot open, your ring and middle fingers still deep in your core. Your hips stopped mid-buck. Your breathing stopped completely as you lifted your head from the pillow to look at the man standing at the end of the bed. His dark eyes met yours, pausing to examine the dark red hue upon your cheeks.

“Shanks.” You begged with a hard swallow. “There... There was sex pollen in that drink.” You stuttered out through blinking eyes.

“What?” He asked with furrowed brows.

“Captain.” You began as you opened your eyes wider and looked him up and down. “I need…. I need help.” You begged again as you licked your lips and panted through a long blink.

“Help? What?” Shanks replied, a pink hue growing deeper upon his face.

“Please, Captain. I know.” You swallowed hard and nodded your head. “I know your rules, but please, my fingers aren’t enough.” You said as you removed your fingers from your entrance and sat up on your elbows. “Shanks fuck me.”

Shanks stared at you in awe. Your thoughts were clouded by the aphrodisiac, which drove you to be so forward. Your heart raced as you stared at him. You were embarrassed by the situation, but you needed your needs met or you felt like you’d die. He took a deep breath and lowered his arm to the buttons of his white shirt. Your gaze fell to the waist of his pants, where you noticed a bulge growing beneath the fabric of his patterned trousers. A smile grew across your lips. 

“I suppose.” He started to speak. “I suppose I did give you that drink. I promise I didn’t know what it was. I’ve heard of sex pollen, so if you want my help… As your captain, I will serve you. Truth be told, I’ve always wanted to.” He replied as he finished undoing the last button of his shirt. He lifted his chin, so his eyes met your gaze.

“Please, Captain. I need you.” You moaned as you clenched down at nothing but the thought of him preparing to enter you.

He unbuttoned his pants and slowly pulled them down, letting them hit the floor at the foot of the bed. Your eyes fell to his pelvis where his member sprung out in front of him. You swallowed hard as you stared at it. It was larger than you could have imagined and you weren’t sure how you were going to take all of him. All you knew was that you needed him. He crawled on the bed and straddled you. His length hit the top of your core as he positioned himself over you. You laid your head back on the pillow that rested behind you. He used his arm to remove the dress from your waist and took a moment to take in the site of your naked body.

“Damn, Y/N. You’re beautiful.”

“Shanks, I need you.” You cooed as your hands traced the shape of his muscles on his chest. 

“As you wish, my dear,” Shanks said as he positioned the pink tip of his erect member at the entrance of your core.

You rested your palms flat on his chest as he gently pushed his large head into your entrance. You closed your eyes and spread your legs farther. You focused on the feeling of his veiny length as he entered deeper into you. When he was a third of the way in you couldn’t help but clench down and moan at your newfound fullness. He pushed into you until he was almost filling you. Then he leaned over and put an arm on the bed next to your head. You put your arms around his neck and took a moment to breathe and adjust to him within you. You closed your eyes. He stared at your breasts and watched the rise and fall of your chest as your hips began to wiggle against his length.

“You feel so good around me. So tight for me.” He whispered in your ear.

“Shanks…” You said through blinking eyes.

“Are you ready to take me like the good girl you are?” 

You nodded your head against his cheek. His length backed out of you and paused at your entrance. You whined as you clenched at the emptiness and your hips writhed at the need to be filled again growing within you. Shanks chuckled to himself, then slammed his length into you. He thrust in and out of you causing his bed to rock against the wall of his cabin. You moaned as his tongue met your breasts and he continued to slam into you.

“Shanks!” You yelled as he thrust into you again, causing your eyes to cross.

“So needy for me, you forget who I am. Who am I?” He quickened his pace.

“Captain. Yes. Captain. Yes!” You yelled as Shanks one-handedly lifted your hips from the bed, to enter you further.

With his next slam, his balls slapped against your pelvis. You moaned and a low growl escaped his lips. Drool dribbled down your chin. Your legs went limp beneath you. The new position allowed his length to slam against your cervix, sending a new shooting sensation within you. His length was perfectly stroking your g-spot as he railed you. The heat filled your abdomen. 

“Captain gonna…”

“Me too. Scream my name.”

Shanks thrust faster and faster until fireworks exploded within you.

“Shanks! YES!” You yelled as your body shook beneath him.

Your juices dripped from your entrance as Shanks continued to plunge in and out of you through your ecstasy. He gripped your waist tighter as his member twitched within you. A new warmth filled within you as his juices filled you. He moaned through clenched teeth. You panted as the two of you stayed interconnected, recovering from your highs. Your legs still shaking slightly, you wiped your forehead and raised a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind his cheek. He opened his eyes and smiled at you as he caught his breath.

Shanks removed himself from between your legs and you immediately missed the fullness of him. He took a deep breath and inched his way up the bed until his face was next to yours. A smirk grew across his face as his warm breath hit your cheek. His eyes flicked from meeting yours to your wet lips. He licked his lips and gently pressed them to yours. You closed your eyes and pressed your soft lips against his firm ones. Your lips parted and he fell beside you on the bed.

“Thank you.” You mustered out between breaths.

“Why did we wait so long?”

“You had a rule?”

“Thank goodness rules were meant to be broken. You are incredible.”

“Y/N. Captain. Where are you? It’s time to party!” Lucky Roo yelled from the main deck of the ship.

“Shit,” Shanks said as he jumped from the bed and tossed his pants on.

“Get rid of them fast. This isn’t out of my system yet.” You called.

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere. Don’t let me find you in the state I did earlier, that’s your Captain’s territory now. Be right back.” He said with a wink as he tossed on his white button-up and headed out the door.

Luffy

You and your crew had just landed on a new island. You paired off and were all ready and excited to explore. Today, you were teamed with your captain, Luffy. After you went and found some food to eat and a bit of trouble, you and Luffy bumped into Sanji. Sanji was flirting with a woman and bragging about some spectacular dessert he had been working on for the ladies in your crew. Sanji had come ashore only to find one last ingredient for the topping. Luffy overheard this and only heard about the desert in the fridge. He grabbed your hand and dragged you back to the ship, where he tried to find a way to pry the locked fridge open. Yes, you were assigned to keep him out of trouble, but Luffy’s food antics with Sanji always amused you too greatly for you to stand in the way.

During your excursion with Luffy, you found a unique chocolate shop and bought a bar of chocolate with raspberry filling. The proprietor had spoken about the notable abilities of the chocolate from the section in which you chose your chocolate bar. However, you were too busy prying Luffy out of the extra-milk milk chocolate fountain to hear what they said.

Now, you grew hungry watching Luffy work at the fridge lock, so you decided to try your chocolate bar. He also grew hungry as he heard the crinkle of your chocolate bar wrapper. He then chased you around the ship trying to steal it until you eventually swallowed the chocolate bar to prevent your captain from getting it.

After the chocolate bar debacle, Luffy returned to the fridge and you sat at the kitchen table watching him and reading a magazine. As you flipped through the pages of your magazine you noticed the room began to grow very warm. You wiped beads of sweat from your face and your mouth grew dry. You stood up from your seat and walked to a cabinet to grab a glass of water. As you reached into the cabinet above your head for a glass your shirt lifted from your abdomen. The cool sensation of the air on your exposed skin gave you goosebumps. 

You filled your glass and brought the smooth glass rim to your lips. As you sipped, you felt the heat move down your body. You wiped your forehead and shifted where you stood. A loud crash from Luffy’s attempts to open the fridge beside you caught your attention. You swiveled your head and looked at your captain. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his biceps, and his teeth clenched as he launched himself back at the locked fridge door. You swallowed hard as you watched his muscles flex as he pulled at the lock mechanism. 

A dizzying sensation now electrified your body. The heat intensified in your abdomen and between your legs. You reached for the counter to ensure you wouldn’t fall. You blinked trying to regain your composure as you stared at your captain. Your breathing changed, catching Luffy’s attention. As he looked up at you he noticed a red hue across your cheeks.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Luffy questioned as he hung off the fridge lock. 

“I’m fine… I.” You said as you wiped another bead of sweat from your forehead.

Luffy jumped to his feet and walked over to you. You wobbled where you stood and you blinked your eyes shut. He raised the back of his palm to his forehead. His touch sent shockwaves throughout your body. A small moan escaped your lips. Your eyes shot open and you stepped back from Luffy’s hand. Something was wrong and Luffy knew it. Luffy turned his head at the noise you made. He lowered his hand from your face and studied you for a moment. Your eyes fell from meeting his dark ones to his toned chest. The heat between your legs grew. You recognized the need building within you. You started to squirm. You felt the wetness between your legs as your thighs rubbed together. You brought a hand to your mouth and raised your eyebrows. You stepped back from Luffy, his brows furrowed.

“I’m going to go lay down.” You said as you bowed to him and ran off to your room.

Luffy watched you bump into a chair and the table as you quickly tried to exit the kitchen. He rubbed the top of his head as he watched you fumble with the doorknob and leave the room, the door slamming behind you. He knew something was wrong, but he didn’t know what.

You pulled the door to your bedroom shut behind you and leaned your back against the door. Your breathing was quick and your entire body felt like it was to explode. You couldn’t believe Luffy barely touching you made you feel so good, made you moan. You knew that chocolate… the unique ingredient for that one dumb bar you chose, had to be sex pollen. You fell to your knees and your legs spread wide on the floor. Your eyes darted back and forth as you tried to think of what to do. The feral need between your legs grew and caused your entire body to ache to be touched. Dirty thoughts filled your brain.

Your crew was gone and hopefully, Luffy was too oblivious to realize what was going on. He probably wouldn’t check on you either, he would probably keep working at opening the fridge lock. You had read about sex pollen, appeasing the need was the only way to curb the feeling. The feeling, the heat within you was intense, you felt like your body would explode if you didn’t give it what it craved. You threw off your clothes and crawled under your covers. The friction of your bedspread caused another soft moan to escape your lips as you laid it over you. 

You swallowed hard and took a deep breath, then gave in to the need. Your fingertips traced up and down the shape of your body before gliding to your erect nipples. There, they twisted and flicked causing your knees to bend inward. A moan escaped your lips. You raised a finger to your mouth and licked it before dragging it back down to your sensitive buds. You licked your lips as you continued to play with your plump breasts and perky nipples.

Heat and wetness grew between your legs and you knew your nipple play wasn’t enough. You craved more. Your eyes closed and you licked your lips. Your hands slid down your abdomen to your inner thighs, pulling the bedspread that covered you with it. Your thumbs brushed the top of your core. The world around you drifted away, as you focused on the dance of your fingertips and the cool air on your exposed breasts. Your right pointer and middle finger found your clit and drew shapes upon it. Another moan escaped your lips as your legs bent and straightened beneath your touch.

“Y/N.” A voice at the end of your bed spoke.

“Luffy!” Your eyes shot open and you removed the hand from between your legs to pull the bedspread over you.

You breathed hard and fast as you stared at your captain. Your body wiggled uncontrollably with need under the bedspread. You licked your lips again and swallowed hard. You tried to think of what to say to your captain, but you were focused on one thing.

“Luffy.. The chocolate.” You stuttered out. “It made me… made me sick. Now I have to...I have to help myself get better.” You swallowed hard again. “So help me… or get out.”

He stared at you blankly and blinked a few times. Your head fell back into the pillow behind you. You couldn’t take it anymore. The middle fingers of your left hand traced up your thigh and raised to rub at your slick. The fingers of your right hand returned to teasing your clit. Your eyes closed as your legs widened apart. You let out a slow controlled breath as your body rocked up and down.

A weight pushed your upper arms further into the mattress, pulling your hands from your core. Your eyes shot open as you lifted your head from the pillow. Luffy was straddling your abdomen and pushing your arms into the bed, preventing you from playing with yourself. His head was tilted down, so his hat casted a shadow over his eyes. Your eyebrows raised as you stared at him on top of you.

“Luffy.” You begged through a shaky breath.

“Help you how?” He asked, still not lifting his chin.

“Touch me. Eat Me. Fuck me. Luffy I need…” You continued to beg as you wiggled beneath him. “Captain, I need…”

He only pushed your arms deeper down into the mattress. Your tongue slid through your pressed-together lips. You laid your head back and closed your eyes. Your breathing was rapid and short. Luffy’s hand let go of your wrist. As you looked back up at him, he took off his hat and set it on the nightstand beside you. His eyes met yours, his pupils were pinpoint, his jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed. He nodded at you and returned his hand to your wrist.

“I’ll help you. I could use a snack.” Luffy said sternly as he sat back on the bed and repositioned between your legs.

“Luffy…” You said as your eyebrows raised and your lips fell agape.

You’d always been interested in your captain, but you didn’t know how he felt about you. Sure, he put his arms around you more than Nami and Robin, but Luffy was a touchy-feely guy, so you didn’t think much of it. The man had Boa Hancock begging at his feet and he didn’t act. You thought he just wasn’t capable. With two older brothers and two years with Silvers Rayleigh, you had hoped Luffy knew what sex was. You’d wanted to have sex with him many times, you had desired to kiss him many times, but you were too afraid. Now, here was your captain pulling off the blanket that covered your naked body and positioning his face in front of your sex.

Luffy licked his lips as he stared at your entrance. His hands clamped down tighter on your wrists. A smile grew across his face as his eyes flicked up to connect with yours. His tongue licked from the base of your core to your bundle of nerves causing your knees to bend inward.

“LUFFY.” You moaned. 

He used his legs to pry yours apart and keep them open as he continued to trace your slick with his tongue. You clenched down as his tongue traced shapes on your clit as your legs fought against his. Luffy’s licks intensified a moment, then slowed. Your eyes blinked closed, your head tucked further into the pillow behind you. Luffy knew what he was doing.

“You taste so good, beautiful.” He said between your folds.

“Cap-captain. Luffy. Please!” You begged for more. 

His tongue lapped at your wet folds and circled at your entrance a moment before returning to teasing your clit. The heat began to grow within you. Luffy’s hands loosened from your wrists and slid up your abdomen to your breasts. He caressed the bases of your breasts as his tongue slid down your slick to your entrance. His fingertips teased your sensitive nipples as his tongue stretched and dove within your entrance.

“Luf-fy.” You muttered out as drool dripped down the side of your mouth.

Luffy’s tongue stretched and teased your G-spot. He let out a moan as he took another taste of you. The heat built within your core as your teeth bit deeper into your bottom lip. Your legs continued to fight against him. Your hands fell to his head and your fingers curled in his black locks.

“Luffy. Gonna cum.” You whispered as your hips thrut into his face.

“You’re beautiful. Let go for me.” He commanded sternly.

His left hand left your breast and started rubbing fervently at your clit. His tongue returned to your entrance where it slid back inside of you. It pounded and rubbed energetically at your G-spot. The heat in your abdomen exploded. Fireworks shot from within you and trailed across your body. Your legs shook and your toes curled. Your juices squirted out and covered Luffy’s tongue and chin. 

“LUFFY. YES. YES. YES CAP-TAIN.” You screamed as your eyes squeezed tighter shut.

His hand continued at your clit and his tongue licked you clean until you came down from your high.  You loosened your grip on his hair and moved your hands to his back. His head rose from between your legs and he scooted up the bed to lay beside you. He rested on his side facing you. He watched as you tried to catch your breath and recover from the pleasure he brought you. He was mesmerized by the rise and fall of your breasts. As your eyes blinked open, you caught him staring and turned your head to smile at him. His eyes lifted to meet yours.

“Thank you, Luffy.” You said between pants.

“Feeling better?”

“I think so. But…”

“Hmm..? He questioned as he sat up more in the bed.

“That was amazing, but I may need more before this is out of my system.”

A grin grew across Luffy’s face.

“Good. I wasn’t done with you yet. I still have a lot I want to try.”

Law

You and your crew, the Heart Pirates, landed on a new island. You set off with Bepo, Penguin, Ikakku, and Shachi, ready to explore. Your captain stayed aboard the ship to reorganize the medical bay. He tasked you with picking up some groceries while you were away. You and your crewmates grabbed some lunch and then strolled through a market.

At the market, you and Ikkaku stopped to sniff at a perfumery to sniff perfumes. The stall vendor had stepped away as you browsed. You found and picked up a pretty bottle from a raised pedestal. You Noticed a warning label on it, but the warning was smudged. You took the cap off and smelled it. You were enraptured by its scent. It smelled of gardenia, rose, and vanilla. You described it to Ikakku, who only grimaced in response to your description because she hated floral-scented things. You took another deep sniff of the scent. 

Penguin and Shachi called to hurry you along. They’d found a fresh vegetable stall for you to pick up the groceries Law requested. You replaced the cap on the bottle and set it back on its pedestal. Stepping back from the stall, you adjusted the bag on your shoulder and headed off to find your crewmates. 

At the vegetable stand, you pulled out the list Law gave you and picked the ingredients he requested. Your crewmates ditched you for a nearby fried seafood stall. As you paid, a new wave of warmth overtook you. Your head suddenly felt very hot and light-headed. As you took the bag of ingredients from the shopkeeper, you felt restless. You wiped your forehead as you headed to the nearby stall to meet your crewmates. You arrived, groceries in hand, brows furrowed, as you tried to analyze how you felt. The warmth pooled in your stomach and made you feel a bit nauseous.

“Y/N, are you feeling okay?” Ikkaku asked as she stared at you wide-eyed.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been in the heat too long.” You replied as you shifted where you stood.

“Your cheeks are pretty red and you look pale. Maybe you should head back to the sub and have Captain check you out.”

“I’m sure, I’m-” You started to speak as the heavy heat spread across your body again.

You stumbled, but Ikakku caught you. You looked up at her and gave her a soft smile. The wind blew past you as you took a deep breath. You stood tall and clutched your grocery bag closer to your chest.

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll head back to the sub.”

“Want us to walk you?” Penguin and Shachi asked.

“No thanks, I’ll be fine.”

As you walked yourself back to the sub, your symptoms got worse. You couldn’t stop licking your lips and occasionally had to stop to catch your breath, rubbing your thighs together as you did. When you reached the sub, you swung the door open, it creaked. You headed to the galley and started unpacking the groceries. You repeatedly had to wipe your forehead as you did. You continued to restlessly rub your thighs together as you placed the groceries in their homes throughout the kitchen. Law entered the doorway to the kitchen and stared at you with his head turned.

“Y/N. Are you feeling alright?”

You placed the two tomatoes in your hand on the counter. You leaned over and griped at the counter for stability. You shook your head in his direction, squeezing your eyes and your legs shut. Your breathing was short and quick as you lifted your chin and opened your eyes to face your captain. Your cheeks still had a pink hue resting on them. You licked your lips as you stared at him. His jaw clenched.

“Come to the medical bay, I’ll check you out.”

You released your grip on the counter and headed to the doorway where your captain stood. You were still a bit wobbly on your feet, but when Law reached out to assist you, you shook your head and raised a hand. You walked past him and headed down the corridor to the medical bay. Your arms crossed over your waist, your fists clenched as you walked. You focused on taking slow deep breaths as you entered the medical bay and sat on the patient bed raised into a seated position. Your hands fell to your lap and gripped at the hem of your skirt.

Law pulled a stool up to you and grabbed a thermometer and stethoscope off the counter. He put the thermometer under your tongue. You closed your eyes waiting for it to beep signifying the reading was done. You swallowed hard as Law felt your wrist for your pulse. His calloused fingertips grazing your soft skin made you let out a soft hum in pleasure. You furrowed your brows and blinked your eyes open to half-lididly gaze at Law. Your breathing was still shallow. The thermometer beeped.

“Pulse is fast, temperature is just a bit high, but nothing to be concerned about. Let me listen.” 

Law placed the head of the stethoscope between his middle and ring finger. He stood up from the stool and set it on your back against your button-up shirt. You did your best to take a deep breath as he moved the stethoscope around to listen to your lungs. Then, he moved to stand in front of you. He opened the front of your button-up shirt a bit more and set the cool head of his stethoscope on your upper chest. Another soft hum escaped your lips. He moved the stethoscope around your chest and you did your best to take deep breaths. When he finished, he stepped back from you and removed the stethoscope from his ears, putting it back on the counter.

“What are your symptoms?” He asked as he stared at you.

“I… I feel hot all over, but especially in my abdomen. It’s almost nausea, but not. I’m restless like my body needs to do something or… I don’t know. I’ll explode? I’m tired, but I’m wide awake and my heart is racing. Law, what’s wrong with me?” You asked, looking at him and swallowing hard.

“Let me look something up,” Law said as he stepped out of the room to his office.

You leaned back in your seat. Your body felt hot everywhere like you were wearing too many clothes. You unbuttoned your button-up shirt figuring Law had seen you in a bikini, what was the difference between that and a bra anyway? Your hands fumbled with the hem of your skirt and raised it, so it covered just your upper thigh and sex. You rubbed a hand down your neck and upper chest, closing your eyes as you did, releasing a heavy exhale.

“What did you do today?” Law called from the next room as you overheard him rifling through pages of a book.

“Umm.” You hummed as you brought your hands back to your sides and gripped the cushion beneath you. “I had some lunch, then strolled through jewelry and clothing stalls. I tried to keep Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin out of trouble. I smelled some perfume at a perfume stall. Then, I went and got the groceries you wanted.” You stated with a hard swallow as you stared up at the ceiling.

The book slammed shut and you heard footsteps in his office.

  “What kind of perfume did you smell?” Law asked.

“I don’t know, it was floral. It.. It did have a weird label on it, I couldn’t make out.”

You heard the rifling of pages of another book. Your hips wiggled where you sat. You couldn’t take it anymore. The only thing making you feel better was fingertips gliding across your skin, whether yours or someone else's. You rubbed your thighs together and brought your right hand to your chest. You exhaled as your fingers brushed across your cleavage, legs still wiggling beneath you. Another book shut and footsteps grew nearer to you. You lifted your left hand from the cushion and squeezed your knee. You opened your legs wide and took a hard deep breath. Your thumb rubbed circles on your inner thigh. You clenched down at the sensation. You gasped and your eyes shot open to face the ceiling above you. You lifted your head and your eyes met Law’s grey-gold ones, where he stood in the doorway between his office and the medical bay.

The pink shade across your cheeks turned darker red. You licked your lips and gulped. He took a deep breath and set down the book in his hand on the counter next to him. He stared at you blankly with a clenched jaw.

You had always found your Captain attractive, always wondered what those tattooed fingers would feel like gliding across your curves. He was your captain and you knew he would never let anything happen between the two of you. However, that never stopped him from gazing at you too long when he thought you weren’t looking, eyeing your body whenever you stepped outside your boiler suit. 

“Captain.” You said with a whimper in your voice.

Here you were, sitting in front of him, legs open wide, just enough so he could make out the cloth of your panties. Shirt unbuttoned exposing your bra-clad breasts. Your hand was halfway up your thigh and gripping it tightly. Your hips restlessly rocking with need. He’d never seen you look more beautiful than you were then.

“Captain. I-...” You started.

“I know. You were exposed to sex pollen. Now you can’t help…” He swallowed hard as he stared at you. “But need to touch yourself.” He replied as he looked down at the floor in front of him. 

Your eyes shot wide open and your jaw dropped. 

“Captain, please.” 

Law’s gaze shot up to meet yours. You sat upright and removed your hands from your chest and thigh. His eyebrows furrowed and his teeth clenched tighter as he looked at you.

“Captain, please. I don’t have a lot of practice. I–I feel like I’m going to burst. Can you help me? Please.” You said with a gulp.

His breath caught in his throat as he thought over what you just said to him. His eyes lowered to the rise and fall of your chest, rise and fall over your breasts. A smile grew across his face. 

“It is a Captain’s job to serve his crew.” He said as he took a step towards you. 

You exhaled deeply. Law sat on the stool in front of your raised seat. His eyes stared up into yours, the grin still plastered on his face. Your tongue stroked your top lip as your eyes darted to stare at his lips. Law sat forward and whispered in your ear. His hot breath on your neck made you let out a soft moan.

“Since the day you joined this crew, I’ve watched you stare at my hands. Today I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted… them inside you.”  

“Please. Captain.” You begged through shaky breaths.

You gasped as his lips hit your neck and his hands met your knees. You moaned as his lips trailed down your neck to bite your collarbone. His right hand slid up your inner thigh and rested at the hem of your folded skirt, just in front of your sex. You wrapped your arms around Law's neck and twirled your fingers in the base of his dark locks. His left hand lifted your breasts from their clothed cage. His head fell lower and paused in front of your now exposed breasts. You watched a wider grin form across his face as he stuck out his tongue. Wetness covered your chest as his tongue flicked at your erect buds. You began to pant as Law’s right hand traced your wet slit through the cloth between your legs. 

“So wet for you captain. Can’t wait to feel you clench around my fingers.”

“Captain. Need you. Please!” You begged as you squirmed beneath his fingers still playing with your clothed sex.

Your head fell forward to rest on his shoulder. Law lifted you from your seat and pulled the cloth from between your legs. You breathed raggedly as his right hand teased your nipples and his left glided up your legs to meet your soaking wet core. His left hand fell from your breast to your waist. Your eyes blinked closed as his right hand traced up your slick and softly brushed your clit.. Your body wiggled beneath his touch.

“Law please.” You begged.

He pulled you closer to the edge of your seat before his thumb met your bundle of nerves. He rubbed circle after circle changing pressure and speed as he played with your clit. You moaned in his ear.

“Law.” You begged.

“I’m your captain, address me as such.”

“Captain… please. I need you inside me.”

“Such a slut for these fingers. Let's see you take them like the slut you are.”

Law’s thumb stopped teasing you as his ring and middle finger returned to your core. They separated as they toyed at your entrance. You clenched down and dug your fingers into his back. Your hips needily rocked at the edge of your seat as Law dipped his fingertips inside you. You moaned loudly as they pushed inside you. His fingers thrust in and out of you causing heat to begin to grow in your abdomen. Law tightened his grip on your waist and fought the forward pounding of your hips. He added a third finger and began rubbing his fingers upward at your g-spot. 

“Yes. Captain. Yes! So close. Please.”

“Look at you begging for these fingers, begging to come undone. Such a slut for your captain. Be a good girl now, and cum for me.” He commanded as his thumb lifted to meet your clit, increasing the intensity at which he rubbed your g-spot.

Your fingers dug into his back and you couldn’t help, but throw your head back as the heat in your abdomen built to a crescendo. Your eyes crossed as drool dribbled down your bottom lip. Your hips fought against his hold.

“CAPTAIN!”

Your juices erupted from your entrance covering Law’s hands and your upper thighs. Your legs shook against him. His fingers continued to dance within your core as you descended from your high. You pressed your wet lips to his neck and rested your forehead on his shoulder. You worked at catching your breath as Law slowly withdrew his fingers from between your legs. You sat up and your eyes met his. He looked at his wet fingers and brought them to your lips. You sucked his fingers clean and moaned as he pushed them deep into your mouth.  He removed his fingers from your mouth and placed his lips softly on yours as his hands fell to your waist. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you opened your lips wider allowing your tongue to intertwine with his for a few moments. You pulled your lips apart and rested your forehead on his.

“Thank you, captain.” You whispered.

“How do you feel?” He questioned.

“Better, but I don’t think once was enough…”

“Good. Lay back,” he commanded.

[cameronsprincess]

thinking about… blue collar!rafe coming home after a week away and he fucks you real good on the couch.

CW: blue collar!rafe, lineman!rafe, soft!rafe, unprotected piv sex, ass slapping, praise and dirty talk.

daydreams 𓆩♡𓆪 main masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 taglist form

it’d been an entire week since he’d left for florida. his job needed all hands on deck after a hurricane had went through, and rafe, as usual, had to leave immediately and would be gone for an entire week.

you’d been checking life360 non-stop, watching and waiting until he got home. you missed him. you missed his face, his smell, his lips on yours, the feel of his strong arms around your waist at night as the two of you slept. but you were also really horny, and ready for your man to come home and fuck you good just like he always did after time away.

you squeal in excitement when your phone pings, a life360 notification letting you know he was finally home. you rush out to the front porch, jumping up and down and squealing as you watch his truck pull into the driveway.

once he’s parked and out of the truck, you take off running, jumping into his open arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. the two of you waste no time in kissing one another, mouths moving fervently together, teeth and tongues clashing as he holds you tightly against his body.

he breaks the kiss, looking into your eyes and smiling. “missed ya, sweetheart.”

your smile grows. “i missed you so much more! i’m so happy you’re home!”

he starts walking toward the front door, his right arm under the curve of your ass, supporting your weight and carrying you inside the house.

he kicks the door shut with his boot, dropping his bag on the floor and locking the door before he carries you to the couch, dropping you down onto it.

“know what i missed more than your pretty face?” he asks, smirking.

you bat your lashes and bite at the inside of your cheek, “i dunno, what?” you ask innocently.

he grips the hem of his work t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor before undoing his belt. “missed that sweet little pussy. my cocks been achin’ for the feel of your warm, wet cunt wrapped tightly ‘round it.”

your cheeks instantly heat at his filthy words, your pussy throbbing as you watch him slide his dark denim jeans and boxers down his legs. his hard cock springs free, slapping just below his belly button. your eyes zero in on his perfectly mushroomed tip, already dripping precum.

“fuck, i missed you so much rafe, please fuck me.”

he grins, taking one long step toward you. he leans forward, gripping your ankles and pulling you toward him. he wastes no time in stripping you of your tight biker shorts and cropped tank top, leaving you in nothing but your black lace panties and bra.

“so fuckin’ pretty, my girls a smoke show.”

you blush at his praise, you always loved how beautiful he made you feel, always reminding you of how beautiful you were.

his long fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs and tossing them behind him. his eyes flit down to your soaked pussy, his bottom lip brought between his teeth. “jesus christ, never seen nothin’ so pretty. already so wet f’me, go on, flip over, on your knees, ass out.”

you quickly obey his command, flipping so your back is to him. your hands grip at the back of the couch, tits pressed firmly against the cushions as you poke your ass out, swaying it side to side for him.

“fuck me, baby. please, need to feel your cock inside me!”

rafe lands two harsh slaps to your ass cheeks, making you squeal in surprise. his large hands harshly grip at the flesh, jiggling it in his hands before he slaps your ass again.

“such a needy little thing ain’t ya? beggin’ to be fucked.”

you moan out in response when he slaps your ass again. he grips his hard cock in his hands, sliding his swollen head through your slick folds. you push your ass out further, chasing the feel of him stretching you out. he chuckles, slapping your ass with his free hand and shoving his entire length inside you without warning.

you scream his name, letting your face fall into the couch cushions as you dig your nails into the back of it.

“fuck, sweetheart. your pussy is squeezin’ me so tight, i think she missed me.”

he places both hands firmly on your hips, using them as support as he begins fucking himself into you. he uses his hands on your hips to pull you back onto his cock, meeting each of his harsh thrusts.

nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breathing, moans and groans and the squelching of your pussy fill the room. rafe fucks into you hard and fast, the head of his dick repeatedly hitting at your g-spot.

your pussy clamps down around him, squeezing him tightly, causing him to groan. “shit, gonna cum inside this pretty pussy, love watchin’ my cum leak outta you.”

you whimper, your pussy pulsing as he continues to brutally pound himself in and out of you. “r-rafe, gonna… shit! gonna cum!”

“yeah? my girl gonna cum all over my cock? go on baby, cum f’me.”

rafe removes his right hand from your hip, splaying it on your stomach before running down and finding your clit. he begins running slow circles around the puffy, sensitive bud.

you moan loudly as your pussy pulses, your lower belly tightening. a warm feeling washes over your entire body, an explosion of pleasure rushing through you as you come undone around his cock. “ffffuck! i love you! holy shit!” you cry out, legs shaking.

rafe’s thrusts grow sloppy, his dick swelling inside you. you feel him twitch inside you, giving one final thrust, burying himself to the hilt before he cums too, spilling deep inside you.

the two of you are spent by the time he slowly pulls himself from inside you. he plops down on the couch beside you, head thrown back and hands clasped together on his chest. he opens one eye and turns his head to face you, “i love you, sweetheart. missed you tons.”

you fall into his arms, curling up into a ball in his lap as he softly strokes your hair. “i love you too, missed you more.”

feedback is very appreciated! ❤️

[dark-fics-4-you]

Number One Fan ch. V

Dark!Stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), incest (step siblings), implied noncon, forced kissing, forced oral (m!recieving), fingering, semi public sex, drug mention, manipulation, controlling behavior, gaslighting, blackmailing, fainting, reader has ptsd like symptoms,

Previous Chapter

Your pulse thundered in your ears as you sat in Ward’s study, finding it much easier to look at your shoes than meet the eyes of your angry step father.

“Are you going to tell me what really happened yesterday? Because Rafe already did, and now I want to give you a chance to explain yourself, Y/N.”

Unwanted memories flashed through your mind.

Watching your brother slam his fists into JJ’s face, the way it felt when Rafe had pinned you to the bed, and how your head had spun when he slapped you. You shuddered as you recalled the feeling of him forcing himself inside of you for the first time and how awful it felt went he kissed you.

You didn’t want to think about the sticky feeling of his cum oozing out of you after he pulled out.

You could only lie on the bed in shock when it was over. Rafe had to carry you to the shower, holding you up as he washed you and you tried to ignore how his hands wandered across your soapy body, squeezing your tits and ass while your numb tears mixed with the water from above.

Before that night, you had loved falling asleep next to your step brother. You loved the sense of comfort, safety, and peace that he always gave you.

Yesterday night, however, you felt terrified and tense as you lay next to the man who had just broken your trust and assaulted you. Rafe had insisted on sleeping naked, leaving you on high alert, so scared that he was going to try to initiate something that you couldn’t relax.

Even worse was knowing that if you did fall asleep next to him, he might force himself onto you anyways.

Every time he shifted in his sleep, every time he pulled you closer, or wrapped his strong arms around you tighter, your heart rate spiked, sure that he was awake and had decided that one time wasn’t enough.

After an almost sleepless night, you cracked your eyes open and felt Rafe stirring beside you.

“Good morning, Y/N/N,” he mumbled, his voice lowered from just waking up.

You had started shifting away from him when his arm wrapped around you, pulling you in to his warm chest. His hand found your chin, tilting your face towards his before his lips captured yours.

When you struggled against him, you felt his lips curl into a small grin and he chuckled before covering your lips with his again, this time sliding his hand to hold the back of your head in place.

His other hand found your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek, and you were disgusted when you felt yourself getting wet.

Rafe broke the kiss, staring into your eyes for a few moments before he slowly sat up in bed and started grabbing his clothes.

“We should probably start heading back. Don’t want Ward and Rose getting too suspicious.”

You breathed a silent sigh of relief at his words, anxious to return to land and get far away from your step brother.

Rafe’s eyes burned into your back as you dressed quietly, putting on the outfit that you had worn the day before, already formulating plans on how you could burn the clothes.

You didn’t want to be reminded of last night every time you looked at them.

Before Rafe could finish up in the bedroom, you quickly exited, walking up the stairs to the main deck and leaning on a railing to watch the rising sun reflect off of the water below you.

How could you possibly have a normal life after this?

How could you go on about your day, knowing that the brother you had always trusted, the one who had lived just down the hall from you for 10 years, was capable of so much cruelty?

Sensing a presence from behind, you spun around to face him as Rafe hooked his arm around your back, holding you against his chest before grinning wolfishly and leaning down to smother your lips with his own.

With the railing at your back along with his arm locked tight around you, there was nowhere to go as you squirmed helplessly in his grasp.

Rafe’s tongue forced its way into your mouth and you almost gagged. He held you in place for what felt like an eternity before finally releasing you.

The blond grinned down at you wickedly before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and tugging you towards the bottom deck. He glanced at his watch, clicking his tongue before chuckling darkly.

“Just enough time for a quickie.”

When you finally got back to Tannyhill, feeling sore and used, and utterly repulsed by your step brother, you couldn’t get out of his truck fast enough.

Thankfully, you didn’t see anyone as you came in and you quietly, but quickly, rushed up the stairs before entering your bedroom, locking the door, ripping your clothes off, taking a scorching shower as you tried to wash the scent of your brother off of you, and then collapsing onto your bed in exhaustion.

You must have slept for several hours however, because when you were finally awoken by a knock at your door, the sky outside your window was growing orange and red as the sun began to set.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” You recognized Sarah’s voice and you sat up in bed.

“Yeah, one second,” you forced your hoarse voice to project enough for her to hear, climbing out of your bed and walking to your dresser to grab a change of comfy clothes.

You opened your door with a timid smile that Sarah worryingly exchanged.

“Are you okay? What happened last night?”

You anxiously looked down the hall to see if Rafe was lurking nearby before sighing and fidgeting with your fingers as you attempted to find your voice.

“Um.. I’d rather not talk about it, Sarah.”

Your step sister looked confused as she tried to get a read on your face.

“But, um, is JJ okay?” You asked nervously.

“Rafe broke his nose and he’s bruised pretty bad but he’ll be okay. He’s been asking about you nonstop, all the Pogues have. They were really scared when we told them what happened.”

You looked down at the ground feeling guilty. You knew that Rafe was the one who had initiated it, but JJ wouldn’t have been jumped like that if you hadn’t been talking to him. Rafe fought with the Pogues all the time, but last night was different.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Sarah’s question surprised you, and you realized there were tears welling in your eyes.

“Um…. Could we go to your room to talk?”

Sarah’s room had always been a comfort to you before you and Rafe got super close, and you did enjoy your sister’s company a lot.

“Sure, of course, Y/N.” She pulled you into a hug, which you returned, enjoying the lightness her presence was bringing you.

You tensed however when you cracked your eyes open to see Rafe emerging from his room behind her.

You averted your eyes immediately, heart rate picking up as you released Sarah and she turned to see Rafe.

“Fuck you, Rafe. I really do not understand your problem with JJ at all,” she spat at him turning to you and expecting you to join in.

Rafe’s eyes fell on you and you watched the corner of his lips threatening to pull into a smirk of amusement.

You swallowed dryly, remembering the sensation of his backhand whipping your head to the side and the dizziness that followed.

“I really wanted to make this special for you,” his nasally voice taunted you.

Your breath grew faster and harder to catch as your vision grew fuzzy around the edges.

“Y/N?” Sarah’s voice was muffled, like she was speaking to you through a tunnel

You felt lightheaded and sick, and you were lucky that you were standing by Sarah and not Rafe because she was the one to catch you when your knees buckled beneath you.

The two of them had a short argument that you couldn’t hear above you before Rafe’s arms wrapped around your limp body and carried you to Sarah’s room.

You tried to ignore the feeling of his fingers brushing over your exposed skin as he lay you down on Sarah’s bed. Sarah’s face appeared in your line of vision and she said something that you couldn’t hear before both of them left the room.

The last thing you saw was Sarah returning a minute later with a cool washcloth that she pressed to your warm forehead.

She was talking to you again, and you tried to grasp at her words, to understand any of them, but your body felt weighed down and you fell into the black abyss of sleep quickly.

…

You woke to the sound of an argument on the other side of the door. Sarah, Rafe, and Ward were screaming at each other.

“She wouldn’t do that, Rafe!”

“Don’t act like you know her so well! You’d be surprised.”

“Both of you just calm the fuck down!” Ward yelled and they became silent. “Sarah go see if she’s awake yet.”

The door to her room cracked open and light from the hall made you sit up in bed.

“What’s going on?” You met Sarah’s tear filled eyes first, then the angry eyes of Ward, your confused mother’s eyes, and then finally Rafe’s, who was standing behind all of them wearing a vindictive smile only you could see.

“Get out of bed and come to my office right now, Y/N,” Ward sternly commanded you.

Your heart leapt to your throat, confusion pulsing through your veins.

What the fuck is going on right now?

Without a word, you followed Rafe, Sarah, Rose, and Ward to his office, where he gestured for you to sit down before staring you down in silence.

“Ward?” You nervously asked. “Rose?”

“Are you going to tell me what really happened yesterday? Because Rafe already did, and now I want to give you a chance to explain yourself, Y/N.”

You tensed, anxiously looking over at Rafe who was watching you with a small smirk.

He wouldn’t have told them about what happened yesterday, that would have been insane, right??

“I- I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your step father sighed before reaching into his pocket and pulling out three small bags of coke.

“Do you want to explain to me why Rafe and I found these in your room today, Y/N?”

Your heart stopped, jaw dropping open in disbelief as you stared at Ward.

“Th-those aren’t fucking mine! Ward you know I don’t do that!” You would have laughed if you didn’t feel so sick right now.

“Rafe was the one who told me, he said you asked him for some, and when he wouldn’t give it to you, you went to the Pogues.”

“Dad, I already told you, none of the Pogues use or sell coke!” Sarah shouted at him and he silenced her with a furious look.

“They aren’t mine, Ward! Rafe probably just got too high and forgot where he stashed his!” You threw a pointed look at your brother who was just behind Ward and Sarah, watching on with a mirthful smirk.

“If it was mine, don’t you think I would’ve just, I don’t know, taken them?” His casual tone made you want to scream. “Why would I hide it in your room?”

“Maybe because you’re a fucking cokehead,” you spat at him.

“Takes one to know one,” he shot back and you huffed in frustration. He looked at his father and Rose before faking concern, “She’s probably high right now.”

“God! Ward, please, Rafe nearly killed JJ yesterday! He would have, if I didn’t push him off of him. He’s lying to you!” You looked over to Rose, who met your eyes with sadness. “Mom, tell me you don’t believe this too!”

“I wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t been selling to my little sister.” Rafe sniped.

You bit your tongue as you glared at him, trying to not let your anger get the best of you. Tears burned at your eyes before slowly starting to fall past your lashes.

Looking at Ward and your mother again, you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Ward, I swear to you, that coke isn’t mine. I promise that it’s not mine. JJ is just my friend, he’s not a dealer. Rafe planted it there! You have to believe me.” You were crying harder now despite your efforts to stop.

Ward just shook his head in disappointment, “You just fainted earlier today out of nowhere! What was that? I’ve heard this a thousand times. You sound exactly like Rafe the very first time I caught him. Rafe? I’ve come to expect this of him. But from you? Y/N, I thought you were better than this.”

You didn’t miss the scowl that crossed Rafe’s features at Ward’s words, and you realized that, even though you were the one on the receiving end of Ward’s criticism instead of Rafe for the first time, Ward still couldn’t help but put his son down too as he scolded you.

“From now on I will expect you to cease communication with all of those Pogues and you’re to be back in this house by 9PM every night. No exceptions. I can’t have you going out to god knows where.”

Your heart clenched at that, frustration threatening to bubble over into rage.

“Dad, come on, you’re being completely unreasonable!” Sarah shouted. “Y/N is not getting drugs from our friends!”

“Be quiet, Sarah, I wasn’t done.” Ward snapped at her. “I don’t want either of you hanging out on the Cut with those Pogues. And that goes for John B too.”

His gaze fixed on yours again, “give me your phone.”

“What?!”

“You’ll get it back tomorrow, don’t worry, but I need to have your location at all times. I can’t trust you after this, Y/N. You know how it is with…” Ward stopped himself from finishing his sentence, but everyone in the room knew exactly who he meant and you saw Rafe’s jaw tick in annoyance again.

Ward dismissed you and you ignored Rose and Sarah when they tried to talk to you in the hallway, instead choosing to rush to your room, slamming your door and grabbing a pillow to scream into.

When you arrived at the dinner table the next day and saw the only empty seat available, your heart sank.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself before taking your seat next to Rafe, trying intensely to find interest in the otherwise ordinary pot roast on your plate to avoid looking over at your step brother.

Ward and your mother were already in the middle of a conversation and Sarah gave you a sympathetic smile when she noticed how uncomfortable you looked next to Rafe. Wheezie, who was completely oblivious to your argument with Ward, asked Sarah a question, diverting her attention away from you.

Rose turned to you, somewhat awkwardly, and inquired about your next semester. “Do you already know what classes you’re going to be taking?”

Despite the obvious tension that was still thick in the air between all of you, you appreciated your mom making an effort at least.

“I think I’m registered for Photography 3, Art History 3, Math, and a writing class. Maybe one more Gen Ed that I’m forgetting right now.”

“Ooh Photography is going to be fun for you, I bet! Remember when you used to take photos at Rafe’s football games? I always thought that was so cool,” Rose cheerily said.

“Um. Yeah, well we’ll see about his upcoming season. Maybe.”

“You and your friend, Mary used to go all the time didn’t you? Oh you two used to be so close.”

“Yeah well ever since she moved to-” you cut yourself off with a small gasp when you felt Rafe’s fingers grip your upper thigh before inching between your legs.

You couldn’t believe how brazen he was to do this at the dinner table in front of the entire family.

You squirmed uncomfortably, lightly slapping his hand quietly before clearing your throat, “Ever since Mary moved to New Orleans for college, we haven’t been talking as much.”

Your older step brother seemed determined to get a reaction out of you however, brushing past your silent protests to fit his hand between your legs. Your eyes widened and you shifted in your seat again as Rafe’s fingers danced past the fabric of your shorts and panties. When he dipped the tip of his finger inside of you, you had to bite your lip to stop from whimpering.

“Y/N?”

You realized that Rose was looking at you with a puzzled expression and she must have asked you another question.

“Um, what?” Your mouth felt dry, mind racing as you squeezed your thighs together, trying to get Rafe’s wandering hands off of you without raising the attention of your family. Your cheeks felt so hot, you were sure they could notice.

When you felt him push his finger deeper, forcing himself inside your slick walls past his knuckle, and beginning to stretch you out around his ring, a whimper slipped past your lips and you quickly coughed trying to cover up the sound.

“What is going on with you, young lady?” Ward asked, his patience with you clearly waning at your outbursts.

“Yeah, Y/N/N, you’re acting weird,” Rafe’s teasing tone was lost on everyone but you. And you loudly cursed when his finger twitched, curling inside of you to get more of a rise out of you.

“Fuck-!” Your chair scraped loudly as you pushed yourself away from the table and stood up.

Your entire family was staring at you now as you tried to correct your uneven breathing.

“I- I think I’m gonna be sick,” was all you managed before you stumbled from the dining room before running up the stairs to your room.

For a moment your family stared at each other in shocked confusion.

Rafe was the first to break the silence.

“She’s probably just going through withdrawals, lemme see if there’s any way I can help.” He stood from his chair, leaving his plate on the table.

“Should we come with you?” Rose offered, getting ready to stand before Rafe waved his hand, ‘no’

“Nah, I think she just needs her brother.”

Rafe put an ear to your door, opening it quietly and stepping inside after hearing a retching sound coming from your bathroom.

He closed the door behind himself, locking it gently, before following the faint light from the cracked door where the sounds had stopped and been replaced by you scrubbing down the inside of your mouth with a tooth brush.

When he knocked on the door, he heard you sigh before spitting out the rest of your toothpaste.

“Sarah, I don’t want to talk-” you had opened the door a bit, but you suddenly paused when you saw Rafe, tensing and shrinking in on yourself.

You tried to close your bathroom door, but Rafe’s hand shot out, easily outdoing the all strength you had put behind trying to keep him out. He pushed the door open and you backed up against the counter in fear.

When he shut the door behind him and locked it, your stomach lurched.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Rafe?” You hissed before lowering your voice for your next words, “why are you doing this now? When any of them could catch us?”

Your older step brother smirked, taking a step towards you and enjoying your distress at him bursting into your room.

“I think that would be your fault, sweetheart.”

He moved so fast you barely had time to react, pressing himself against you before both hands came to your shoulders, shoving you to your knees. You hit the ground painfully, letting out a whimper before meeting Rafe’s eyes as he loomed above you.

“Y’just can’t keep that pretty mouth shut, can you?” One of Rafe’s hands tangled into your hair, holding you beneath him, as the other found the button and zipper of his shorts, fumbling to undo them as quick as possible before pushing them down to his ankles.

“No, Rafe, please don’t!”

His boxers were next to go, and your pleading was cut off when he tugged you forward by your hair and forced his cock between your lips.

The salty taste made you want to gag, and you had to stretch your lips more to accommodate his size, flattening your tongue to the bottom of your jaw.

Startled, you tried to gasp for air, giving him access to slowly push himself deeper, his cock nudging the back of your throat, staying there and choking you until your pleading eyes went wide, tears beginning to build up along your waterline.

“You can take it, Y/N/N,” he whispered and you were confused when his encouragement made your clit tingle and butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

Rafe tilted his hips back, sliding himself out enough to allow you to take a much needed breath, but your relief was short lived when his grip on your hair tightened and he pushed his cock to the back of your throat again.

His thrusts were steady at first, and every time you choked or gagged on his cock when he pushed you too far, he let out a soft groan, fingers twitching in your hair as he played out his sick fantasies with you.

Despite already stealing your virginity away from you, watching you pathetically crying on your knees and choking on his cock was just another level of degradation. The fact that he was taking yet another first from you made this all the more thrilling for him.

The initial panic had worn off inside of you, all you could do now was focus on breathing through your nose and trying not the throw up from the feeling of your step brother’s dick sliding across your tongue and kissing the back of your throat.

His speed picked up and Rafe ignored you when you slapped at his leg in a desperate attempt for him to slow down.

Tears were steadily rolling down your red tinged cheeks now along with some spit that had escaped the corner of your lips due to Rafe’s brutal pace.

A sudden knock at the door made Rafe freeze, and he rolled his eyes and let out a quiet groan of frustration when he heard Sarah’s concerned voice.

“Y/N? Are you doing alright?”

“We’re fine!” Rafe snapped at her dismissively.

“I want hear that from, Y/N.” Sarah replied.

Rafe sighed before sliding his cock out of your mouth and leaning down to order you quietly.

You quietly caught your breath, pulse racing as you desperately willed Sarah to come in and help you.

“Tell our dumbass sister what a good job I’m doing cheering you up and then tell her to fuck off,” he hissed into your ear, his hot breath made you shiver.

You hesitated before Rafe yanked on your hair again and you bit back a yelp.

“I’m fine, Sarah, r-really. Rafe is um- helping me take care of it.” You struggled to keep your shaky voice under control.

Sarah was silent for a moment before her voice came from the other side of the door, “are you sure? You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m f-fine, I promise. I was just throwing up a bit.” You despised lying to her right now, especially considering how much help you actually did need in this moment.

“Yeah, she’d appreciate some privacy, Sarah,” Rafe snipped.

“Okay, Y/N, if you’re sure..” her voice trailed off and you knew she had left when you heard your bedroom door close.

Rafe wasted no time in grabbing your chin and forcing your mouth open before shoving his cock past your plump lips.

You slapped his thigh and he grunted, fingers lacing through your hair and sliding your lips back and forth on his cock as he stood still.

“Fuck-” he breathed through gritted teeth, his hips starting to move impulsively, thrusting forward when he pulled you in and forcing himself deeper down your throat.

When his fingers pulled at your hair again, holding you in place as he frantically fucked your throat, you knew he was close.

You took a gasping breath when he pulled his cock out. His hand wrapped around his length, stroking himself until white burst from the tip, splattering your face.

You closed your eyes as ropes of cum painted your lips, cheeks, and chin. The sticky sensation made your skin crawl and you felt like you were going to throw up again.

Disgust and humiliation boiled in your gut. You just wanted to disappear.

The sound of a camera lens snapping made your eyes split open.

Rafe chuckled when you registered the phone in his hand, turning the screen around to show you the degrading picture he had just taken.

“Y’ know,” he sniffed, looking over his shoulder at the closed door behind him. “I uh, wouldn’t tell anybody about this if I were you.”

Your stomach dropped at his words. You could feel any last chances you might have of rescue from your step brother slipping through your fingers.

“I’d just hate it if you decided to mess up your future over this.” You couldn’t stand the way he was speaking as if he was giving you any kind of choice in this situation. “You understand, right?”

Staring at up at your older brother from your knees as you watched him nonchalantly pull his shorts back up and discuss blackmailing you, as if this was all just a petty fight over nothing made you want to scream.

But you bit your tongue, not seeing any other choice but to agree with him.

“Yeah… I understand.”

Rafe’s eyes flicked over your defeated face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at seeing your pretty face painted with his cum.

“You should probably clean yourself up. Sarah’s still waiting on you.”

[fanaticsnail]

Will You Let Me?

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here

Word count: 4,500+

Synopsis: Your crew was docked at a port, exploring a new land while you requested to remain behind. Enjoying being without the unruly bunch, your momentary calm was disrupted by the staggering step of your superior. Coughs, grunts and stuttering over his words: your concern grew more severe as you offered to help him through it.

Themes: pollen!killer x gn!reader, NSFW, mdni, 18+, smut, penetration reader!receiving, swearing, dubcon, begging, pleading, apologising, bruising, crying, rough, do not read if you do not enjoy the trope, fluff at the end, semi-ooc.

Notes: first time writing gn!reader smut! I enjoyed the challenge, but forgive me if there's a word that is used incorrectly! I am still learning inclusive language.

Pollen is a fun trope to play with, but please do not read if you don't enjoy.

Apprehensive Tag List: @sordidmusings @remisloves @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @since-im-already-here @mfreedomstuff @icy-spicy

The hot sun shone over the wooden deck of the Victoria Punk. The soft waves gently rocked the boat with a subtle lull, the screech of gulls only aiding your heart to swell in merry solitude.

It was a rare occasion that you were tasked to remain behind while the crew explored a foreign area. Your skills as a linguistics specialist usually meant your silver tongue was called for to coax a good deal, or to decipher scratchings on cave walls. Considering this area was only a port meant for resupply, Captain Kid deemed your skills unnecessary for the journey in land.

Never one to complain, and genuinely giddy at the notion of being secluded and alone for a change, you jumped at the opportunity to stay with the Victoria Punk. You adored your ship, and decided to utilise the opportunity to check over her planks, ropes, and panels that may be in need for repair.

As the day went on, you did not expect a member of your crew to return so suddenly: especially the hulking masked figure of Massacre Soldier Killer. Being the first-mate, he was usually by Kid's side, no matter the circumstances.

Coughing, sneezing and sputtering: Killer’s right hand shot out to grasp your left shoulder. The firmness of his grip was bordering on painful, prompting you to wince in response to the hard strangulation of flesh.

“Something gross hit me in the face,” he strained from behind the teal and ivory mask, “Stuck in my chest and my throat. Not feeling good. Gotta-... fuck-... I gotta lie down or something.”

Concern and worry knit itself over your face, examining the staggering movement of Killer’s body as he retreated below deck. He stuttered and gripped onto the wooden beams, walls and ceiling to stabilize his movement: his body almost giving way beneath the pressure.

“Kil, do you need-,” you began, halting as his voice raised over the top of yours.

“-‘M fine. D-Don’t worry, ‘kay?” he called over his shoulder before disappearing below deck. His large figure seemed to both be inflated and deflated with a foreign paralysis in his choppy, staggered steps. The waves did nothing to sooth him in his glide throughout the halls.

As soon as he reached crew-quarters, he all but shredded his clothes and cast them away from his body. His skin was alite with violent lust, his hands moving against his will to fist, claw and paw at the erogenous zones of his torso, stomach, legs, and his puckered nipples.

He arched his back as his hands gripped the base of his already steel-like cock, immediately pumping it in his right fist. His left hand clawed at the flesh of his chest and lay flat over his heart as he felt the rise in fluttered rapidity.

Scraping and gripping downwards with his left hand, he pushed hard on the base of his stomach, feeling how tightly wound the banded coil was wound in the pit of his stomach: bound hard enough to snap. Every muscle was tense, firm and aching for relief. He began sniffling and sobbing behind his mask, never truly experiencing the shame in the desperation his body was craving before.

He was the only one who managed to not avoid the hessian bag of powdered flowers falling from the rooftop of the naturopathic remedy building. Apologetic calls echoed down from the roof before panic began to rise in the workers. Killer could scarcely process voices above the throbbing ache in his lower abdomen.

Barely hearing several repetitions of Kid’s voice calling: “Killer, are you alright? Kil, are you alright?” All Killer could do was splutter and cough through the burning in his chest.

Golden flecks danced over his eyes beneath the mask, the pollen sucked immediately through the holes and embedded several clusters within the circular orifices. No matter how many times he wiped at the mask with his hands, he continued to inhale the sticky-sweet smell of herbal flowers within deep gulps of his lungs.

“Get him back home!” a hushed voice hurriedly spat at Captain Kid, “He needs a companion, someone to take care of him while he's going through this. Someone caring and kind enough to-.”

“-Don't tell me what to do! Kil, you know the way back to the ship from here?” Kid’s voice barked at Killer, prompting the blonde to spark a moment of clarity in his progressingly foggy mind, “The linguist is back there. They'll take care of ya’ if ya’ need it, okay?”

“Okay,” Killer managed to stutter out, his body scorching hot and violently in need.

“Okay!” Kid parrotted back, looking at the shopkeeper, “Okay, great. Now that's settled, we need a couple things from you. Let's get that sorted before-."

As Killer continued fisting at his cock, he felt release on the tip of his tongue. His eyes were scrunched tightly shut and his lips were parted wide. Unbeknownst to him, each time he panted through his heavy inhales and exhales; more of the toxic pollen punctured his lungs and poisoned his bloodstream with arousal.

He was consumed with lust, a beast untamed and unbridled. There was no release for him, no relief that came thereafter. He was isolated, confused, scared and manic. He needed something, someone, anyone-.

“-No,” Killer spoke aloud in a strangled whisper, “Not anyone. I need the linguist. I n-need-... fuck-... I need my linguist. Where i-is my linguist?”

Continuing about your task of ensuring all of the ropes were properly coiled and laid, your heart began to pang with guilt. You decided to cast aside all further self-induced tasks and seek out the first-mate you serve beside, attempting to offer him comfort through his illness. He seemed so adamant about isolation, but you felt called to be by his side.

Venturing below deck, his painful strain of wanton moans called to you. Muffled groans of pain exhumed from the room, cries of anguish falling through the door. Your deepest sympathies clawed at you to push through the door. Your hand hesitated it's rise against the wooden panel, your body almost walking away before you heard a gentle and heartfelt cry of your name falling from Killers lips.

“I-If you're there,” Killer’s voice again called for you, “Please come in. Please,” he chanted your name with a soft, strangled moan, “Please. I need you.”

Immediately, your body moved against your will. Twisting the knob to crew quarters, you swung the door wide and was immediately met with the sight of your first mate: glistening in beads of sweat and shed of all but his teal and ivory face covering, and viciously pulling at his cock.

“Killer! Why did you tell me to come in if you were doing that?” you shouted in a harsh whisper, immediately slamming the door shut behind you and scrunching your eyes tightly shut, “I don't want to watch that!”

Thick silence aside from the cruel pistoning of his firm hand slapping against his lower stimach engulfed the air. Soft huffs of muffled pants escaped gritted teeth, Killer's mask doing the heavy lifting in silencing his cries for you.

“I don't want you to watch,” Killer confessed in a soft, breathy whine, “Please don't watch,” he keened for you, “Participate.”

“Killer!” you shot over your shoulder at him with a warning tone, “What are you-?”

“-I would never a-ask if I didn't-...” He trained off in a strangled whimper, desperately clenching down on his tongue with his teeth and biting back his needy sobs, “...I-I need you. I need you. Only you.”

“Kil,” you sighed at him, your concern written over you'd face, “Have you taken something? Was it the gross thing from earlier? Did that have an effect on you? Like a drug-?”

“-Look at me,” a barked command exited the holes in the mask, “Please, look at me,” he pleaded, gasping as he grasped at his cock, fisting the flesh and whimpering as he was brought to the brink of ecstacy once again, “Just look at me, please. I just need your eyes on me. Eyes on me.”

“Killer,” you whimpered, finally turning to face him. As soon as your eyes met with the icy stare beneath his mask, you were entranced. Your body propelled you against forward, called to serve the needs of the first mate in a hypnotic trance.

“I need you,” he sobbed, reaching for you with his left hand as his right continued beating his weeping cock, “Only you. Please, let me have you?”

Your body continued reacting against your will, your brain becoming foggy as Killer’s lust thickened the air with all-consuming need. Shame coursed just as heavily throughout your body as the arousal at just the thought of taking Killer’s cock into you began coursing through your veins.

“Please,” he whined, his eyes holding your own as you stripped yourself of your clothes, “Please,” his lips spilt as you straddled his lap, “Please,” as you immediately began sinking yourself down over the tip of his knob.

His precum did little to prepare you your your descent, focussing on your wanton need to have him within you to open your body up to receive him. Killer moaned your name, crying out with baited breath as you slowly consumed all of his length with the grip of your tight hole.

As soon as he felt your heat take his entire length, he was already a babbling mess. There was no strings of cohesive thought as his length became strangled within your tight center. He immediately began shooting your body full of ropes of thick release, ribbon after ribbon of his pale translucent ecstasy.

He cried out for you in warning before painting your walls white with his sticky cum. The pearly beads of his lust coated your tight hole immediately, strings of praise falling from his lips as he rode through his high with you fully impaled on his thick cock.

But he remained firm, hard and desperate for more.

“Wha-...” he began, his understanding of his own arousal and relief not aiding him in the slightest as he thrust up into you. He moaned as he sheathed his lengthy shaft deep within you again, your own arousal now taking over as you started to roll your hips against him while sat fully engulfed by him.

“Killer, what's going on?” you questioned him, your confusion and worry knit on your face, “You're s-still hard.”

“I-I am,” he confirmed, a soft mewl of bliss echoed beneath his mask as he rolled his hips up into you, “What’s happening to me?”

His hands found your hips, rocking you above him as he began feeling another wave of need course through his veins. As his hands embedded into your hips, you winced at the sting. His strength depicted in his grasp, gripping you like a lifeline anchoring himself to the world surrounding him.

He tried.

He tried so hard to be gentle.

He wanted to be gentle for you. Needed to be gentle for you.

But his grip turned sinister, turned brutal and unforgiving as he thrust up into you. His end was coming to a close as he chased it with you writhing and pleading on his lap. His desperation enticed him to continue bullying your tight center with vicious snaps of his bruising slaps.

“Kil,” you called for him, feeling his cock touch a depth within you that had your back arching and mewling for him, “Oh, Kil. I'm close.”

“Please,” he begged, desperately thrusting up into your lap as his end stampeded before his eyes, “Please cum. Please. N-Need it.”

“Killer,” you called for him, feeling the band weave ever tighter within your abdomen, spiraling and coiling within the pit of your stomach, “Kil I'm gonna-.”

“-Oh, fuck!” he roared, his body immediately betraying him as he coated your insides with ropes of hot, sticky, and heavy cum for the second time. His balls sucked up inside his body, his entire being screaming in relief as his release was once again began satisfying his unbridled lust for you.

But his cock still remained firm.

Your eyes clenched firmly shut, the corners wincing at the slight pinch as the coil snapped deep within you. White-hot ecstacy coursed through your veins, your body releasing your bliss over yours, and Killers, bodies as you rode through your high seated on his lap.

His hands were firm, rocking you atop him with a guiding, harsh rhythm as you called his name. Your whole being was alight with passion, your eyes now opening and looking down at the man beneath you.

Killer didn't realize it until he felt his eyes roll back in his skull, his body immediately ushered into a third orgasm as your body milked him with the rhythmic thumps of your warm orgasm. But he still remained firm, hard and needy. He inhaled a deep, shaky breath: particles of pollen immediately spiraling in a cylindrical vacuum deep into his lungs.

“I c-can’t,” Killer called for you, immediately grappling you in his arms. He threw you beneath him, his vice-grip clawing at your hips as he pummeled down into your body, “I can't stop, I can't stop, I can't stop.”

You bit back a whimper, your body barely recovering from the prior spend of your hot release. Overstimulated, ill-prepared and encumbered with your new task at hand: Massacre Soldier Killer never let up. Not even for a moment.

In fact, he only got more intense, ferocious and brutal the moment your body began to milk his cock.

“P-Please know I'm sorry,” he choked out a strangled whimper. His fingers ached with the intensity he was gripping onto you with, leaving punctures of purple intents over your hip bones due to the butality he was burrowing into you.

“O-Oh fuck,” you sucked in your bottom lip, biting down hard as the corners of your eyes began pricking with tears, “It's okay, it's okay. I know. I can t-take it.”

You spoke through those words of confirmation, truly attempting to convince yourself of the ability to endure this rough treatment for as long as Killer needed to use your body for. Rough slaps of his hips smacked against your body, his veiny cock scraping itself through your body as his knob hit angles you didn't realize you could experience. It would equate to bliss if his grip wasn't so intense.

Excruciating agony and white-hot ecstacy were in a perfect marriage within your body beneath the hulking form of Massacre Soldier Killer. The harmonious entanglement driven further by the grunts, growls, roars from the man above you, only for them to turn into begging whimpers and pleas for you to endure just a moment longer.

“I kn-know this isn't-... f-fucking nnghm-... this isn't g-good for you,” his breathy whisper cut through his growls like a pick through ice, “I can't stop. I can't fucking stop.”

“It's okay, Kil. I p-promise it's okay,” you grit your teeth as his grip intensified on your hips, "You're good. You're b-being so good." His rhythm was unforgiving, the pace and rate his body rut into you was tormenting, brutal and punishing.

This was not the first-mate you knew. The beast in his stead was as violent as Killer was in battle, ripping bones and slashing through flesh. This was not at all what you anticipated from aiding Killer through this feat of lust.

His desperation was abhorrent, something he was repulsed by. He never dreamed of joining his body with yours in this strenuous and savage manner. He wanted to be kind, always kind, only ever kind, should you grant him the access to you he so desperately longed for from afar.

Softly spoken, dutiful and almost loving. That's who you knew him to be, and that's who he wanted to be for you. Your friend, your comrade in arms, your senior serving crewmate who you trusted to have your back.

How would you ever trust him again after this? How could he ever trust himself? That push and pull of chasing his relief with you caged beneath him coincided with the tug of his heart and the fog of his mind. He wants you to trust him after this. He wants you to look him in the eye and tell him you still want him. He needed that from you; the confirmation this was not only simply for now, but something he could have once again.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” he sobbed into your neck, the cool surface of his mask grounded you. Huffs of his breath poked through the holes in his mask, his icy-blue eyes were scrunched tightly shut while his body remained alight like a beacon in darkness.

He had already reached his climax three times, shooting burst after burst of his sticky cum deep within you. Although relief was found immediately afterwards, his cock continued to remain stiff as the steel of a blade in a snow storm.

He just couldn't stop. Why couldn't he stop?

“Kil, I-I think you n-need-... ahh,” you mewled as he moved his hands up to your waist, his broad fingers splayed out to perch like a bird of prey against your skin. He rammed his full length in and out, your stomach beginning to ache with the bulge protruding deep within your abdomen.

“N-Need you,” he groaned in your ear, his hips stapling you against the floor with each cruel slap, “Need to keep going. Almost th-there again.”

“I know, Kil. I know,” you soothed his hair in your hands, trails of wet tears streaked your cheeks with how much sensations your body was taking, “Take what you need, I'm here.”

“I’m gonna-... I'm gonna- f-fuck. I'm gonna cum again,” he groaned deep within his mask, his voice picking up at the end in a small shuddery whimper, “Oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm cumming.”

Your head rolled back, eyes wide as you felt him empty himself within you for a fourth time. The sticky splashback of his hot cum trickled out of your needy hole, his cock buried up to the hilt with his spend leaking over his pubic hair and thighs. He huffed against your shoulder, his mask almost becoming loose over his face as he recovered.

“Good boy,” you cooed at him, pressing a soft kiss onto his bare shoulder as he shuddered and shook through his fourth spurt of ecstacy, “Good boy, Kil. Get it all out.” His cock twitched at your title bestowment, the hardness of his steely cock refusing to deflate no matter the amount of release he pumped into you.

“I-It’s not going down,” he whimpered into you, his hips beginning to roll against yours once more, “It's not going down. I don't know what to do,” his sobs began to shake at his shoulders.

“It's okay,” you winced out, feeling the heat of release exiting from your overspent body with ooze of fluid, “I-I think you need to take your mask off.”

“Wh-What?” he gasped at you, his hands continuing to hold you firmly against the mattress of his bed, “The mask off?”

“Some-... fuck, Kil-... something hit you in the face, ri-right?” your voice was several notes higher than your usual cadence, crying beneath him as he pummeled into you, “Might be still in your mask. Take it off. I'll close my eyes, I'll not tell a soul,” you winced, clamping your eyes tightly shut, “I'll be good. I'll tell no-one.”

Killer immediately halted his thrusting, his body in momentary stasis as your words reached him. His body screamed at him to keep going, to keep pummeling into you, to keep chasing his high that was just within reach. But he stopped, his cock sheathed deep within you.

“Look at me,” he purred down at you, his hands still firm on your waist. His grip grasped you tighter, misbehaving beneath Killer's pleading to hold you more gently.

Unclenching your scrunched eyes, you gazed up at him as his hands left your body and unclasped the mask from shrouding his face. Icy blue eyes, as pale as the sky and as deep as the ocean pierced you as his gaze met with yours. Your breath was stolen from within your lungs, choking back on your surprise at his appearance.

Massacre Soldier Killer was beautiful.

“Look up at m-me,” he stammered, his hips rolling against yours as his cock burrowed deep within your body, “Look at me. I n-need you to see me. I need you to see how desperately I need you.”

His eyelashes fluttered, his eyelids growing heavy as his rhythmic thrusts began to pick up their intensity. Your eyes never left his for a moment: not to look at his lips, not his beard, nor his angular cheekbones, nor his nose. His eyes were what captivated you most, holding you hostage as their glassy hue glazed over to chase his high within you.

“Y-You were right,” he huffed between thrusts, “My lungs aren't burning, and I-I think this is it. Th-This one is it.” His pace was excruciating, but the satisfaction you were beginning to feel build itself within you screamed at you to let him continue using you.

“You can do it, Kil,” you rolled your hips to match his pace, staring up through half-hooded lashes into his eyes, “Use me. Take me, I'm yours.”

“You're mine,” he moaned his growling voice down at you, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against your neck, “Perfect for me. Made for me.” His cock twitched deep within you, your body reacting to his needy chase and toppling over with his final release.

“F-Fuck, Kil!” you cried, your body beginning to throb, your thumps of bliss coaxing Killers balls to empty deep within, “I-I’m-... I’m cumming. Killer, I'm cumming!”

“Cum with me, cum with m-me,” he begged, his pace picking up as his cock finally began weeping it's spend for the fifth time deep within you, “With me. F-Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Pants of breath, fluttering of elevated heartbeats and joint cries of bliss ricocheted off the wooden walls of the crew-quarters of the Victoria Punk. Killer's mask lay discarded beside the door, lulling in the subtle rock of the waves over the floorboards as you both fell away from your mutual highs.

Killer moved his head away from your shoulder, gazing down to where your bodies remained joined together in awe. His lips were agape, his eyelashes fluttering as he pulled himself away from you. Watching the floodgates open from your abused entrance, your mutual juices coating both of your stomachs, thighs and soaking the mattress beneath you.

Killer looked to your hips, his lips parting and eyes becoming teary as he noticed the damage showcased on your body.

Marks littered your skin, deep hues of purple branded your flesh, depicting Killer's unrestrained lust and need for you. His bliss was eclipsed by deep sorrow as his fingers gently caressed the elevated indents in your skin. Sensing his unease, you immediately flung your hands up and collected his cheeks in your palms.

“I can handle it,” your eyes searched his, looking between his deep, blue orbs with your eyes only depicting support and affection, “I wouldn't have let you do it if I couldn't handle it.”

Killer turned his head, his lips meeting your palm with his whiskered chin tickling your flesh. This small moment of affection felt more sacred, more secret, and more intimate than the emassment of bodily fluids you shared moments prior.

“I shouldn't have been so rough with you,” he scolded himself, “I will never be rough with you again.” His fingertips caressed your hips, soothing over your aching flesh and wordlessly apologizing with deep, intentional touches.

“Are you feeling okay, Kil?” you asked him, lazily cocking your head to the side, “Don't need to go again?”

“Fuck, no,” he huffed through a small, squeak of laughter, “Not right now, at least.”

Smiling up at him, you propped yourself up on your elbows and gazed deeply into his eyes. You couldn't get enough of the luxury it was to gawk at the handsome man who just spent himself within you five times in consecutive succession.

He truly was beautiful.

“Does that mean you want to do this again?” you asked him while attempting to not show how eager you were. You began taking your time to examine his muscular physique before snapping your eyes back up to his blue orbs. A red hue tinted his cheeks, his eyes darting around the room before rejoining your own.

“I would like to, yes,” Killer admitted at last, sucking in a breath as he anticipated your refusal. Your smile spread up your face, prompting you to immediately spring yourself up to meet his body with your own.

“Crew’s still out for a while,” you shrugged, looking around the crew-quarters you had both tainted with the stains of your aroused fluids, “We should clean this up,” you drew your eyes up to meet his, coy and bashful, “And maybe we could have a bath together-?”

“-Please,” he spoke over you, far too quickly for his liking but too lost to hold back the floodgates of emotional excitement, “Let me bathe with you. I'll wash your hair, massage your body. I'll make sure you're so, so spoiled after all this, if you'll let me?”

A small squeal of joy found its way to your lips, buzzing at the notion that he not only wants to be with you again physically, but he desired to treat you to the luxury of continuing to gawk at his uncovered face further by bathing with you.

“Will you let me?” Killer asked, his voice still holding that eager anticipation that caused you to both melt and soar in unison. You eagerly nodded, prompting Killer to hook his arms beneath you and elevate you into his chest.

Your fingers quickly drew themselves up to his lengthy blonde hair, detangling the sweat-damp strands and toying with the soft curls framing his face. You hummed in contentment as his smile freed itself on his face, glancing at you as you continued enjoying his luscious, thick locks.

“Let's go then,” he cooed down at you, his lips finding your forehead as he cradled you against him, “Let me spoil you for being so good to me. I need to treat you right.”

“Don't forget your mask!” you quickly uttered, causing him to pause and search your face for clarification. You smiled at him, gently reaching your lips up to press against his cheek, “Gotta clean the damn thing, unless you want to experience all that again?”

“Good point,” he huffed, using his feet to kick along his mask to the bathroom as he chaperoned you within his arms, “I prefer my own desire to come from me,” he confessed as soon as he reached the door, “And I want to show you how much I truly do desire you.”

“I can't wait,” you smiled in return, wincing as your body’s adrenaline seeped out of your body and the pain caught up to you.

“I promise I'll be gentle with you,” he confessed, his eyes innocent and brows triangulating in a peak in the center of his forehead, “I won't be rough.”

“I can take a bit of rough treatment,” you challenged him in return, smiling into his bare chest as he began to run the bath.

“I know you can,” he smiled down at you, pressing a small kiss against your temple, “But you don't have to, unless you really want to.”

[theninthdoor]

⭒˚｡⋆ 🍓 pac || inside your crush's mind ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ 🐞

𖦹 think of your crush, take 3 deep breaths and pick one of the piles below! lets see what is/was going through your person’s mind & if you have or ever had a chance with them. 𖦹 take only what resonates. if you feel like the pile you’ve initially picked doesn’t really apply to the person/situation you’re thinking of, it’s OK to pick another one. I'm also leaving some extra messages and keywords at the end of each reading. those may work as confirmation for some people, but if they don't mean anything to you, that doesn't mean that that's not your pile. what you should really take into account is the description I make of the person (your crush) in each pile, and that's how you will know if you have chosen the right or wrong one. please use your discernment. 𖦹 remember that this is all for entertainment purposes and that free will still exists. don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to, just because your person thinks this or that, ok? 𖦹 enjoy, my lovelies!

Pile 1 || ☎️ cards: four of pentacles rx, death rx, knight of pentacles rx, judgement rx, the chariot

not you guys landing on the player's pile… omg So, yeah- Did you ever had a chance? For sure. Anyone would have a chance with this person, I feel like. This is someone who's either constantly in love or just can't stand being alone for too long. Maybe it's just their personality - being extroverted, a connection-seeker, always open to new relationships and whatever experiences come with it -, or perhaps they are simply that charming and the options never end for them. This does feel like someone who's very much a feeler, but maybe not the wisest or yet the most mature in general (or even the most emotionally available!!). For the most part, their relationships feel quite short lived, and mostly based on physical attraction. They may have had one or two longer ones, still (for some people in specific, it feels like your crush may have been in longer-term relationship that was very talked about and known about, and they may still be heavily associated with this ex of theirs). Now, when it comes to their thoughts and feelings towards you: I'm sorry to say it, but I just don't see them having cared or caring too much... They see you quite plainly (if they know you at all); you're just a friend, coworker or acquaintance. Yet, as I said, I feel like you'd definitely still be able to have a chance with them - all you would have to do is take that step towards them and get yourself noticed. Be confident about it! I think that's what attracts them the most to someone, actually: boldness. Flirt a little with them, and see where it leads you… It might not result in the most serious, stable or long lasting relationship of all time, but maybe you'll still get to have a good time together.

⋆ extra messages:

This totally feels straight out of a 2000s coming of age movie, or some rom-com set in high school, with your crush being the popular guy/girl everyone knows and is attracted to lol. Just thought I should add that in.

Milena. Mimi. Mario. Jet-black hair. Affluent neighbourhoods. Family business. Taking acting classes. Ankles/ankle bracelets. Big family event or gathering coming up soon (like a birthday, a wedding, some special holiday…). Talking about or someone's been worrying about frown lines recently. Jennifer. Janet. J surnames. Wearing a lot of orange lately, or having just bought a new orange clothing item. Ash. Ashley.

⋆ channeled song: The Bellamy Brothers - Let Your Love Flow

Pile 2 || 💄 cards: page of wands rx, ten of pentacles rx, knight of pentacles rx, the hermit, seven of wands

So, my sweet pile 2, here we have someone who has, for sure, noticed you before! Seven of Wands + The Hermit at the bottom of the deck = this person would do anything to get to know you a little better and/or to spend more time with you. There's something about the way you are or carry yourself that makes you stand out from other people - or perhaps you're just your crush's type and that's why their eyes are on you... I don't get a whole lot of communication or movement coming from them, so even if they talk to you, it doesn't feel direct; they're not letting you know how they feel; they're not openly flirting with you. This person actually feels very much like a Virgo or Capricorn Moon; logical, careful, slow moving. Once you get them to come of their shell and finally they feel ready to say something, though, you can definitely expect them to be very direct about it. At first they study you, consider the potential of this connection, and then they decide if they should go for it or not. If they do come towards you then, they won't waste any time, again. They're saying, you know… "Hey, let's go out one of these days. I'd like to spend some time with you." or "I really like your vibe. Would you care to go on a date with me, sometime?". It's quite dry and lame actually lol. They're still not flirting, exactly. They're just putting it out there that they're interested and want to explore this connection - again, very direct and logical about the whole thing. (And their flirting skills may actually suck, btw…) In the meantime, they may get closer to you by asking you about your interests, by sitting nearby in class or at lunch, watching your ig stories or something like that. It's the small things, and they're gonna take their sweet time with this. It's not something they are losing their sleep over; it's a case they are studying.

⋆ extra messages:

Is anyone here working or studying in a scientific field? Science feels very relevant. Ron, Rob, R names. Lab coats. Law; rules and regulations. College towns. Planning (or planning on attending) a big Halloween party - and putting a lot of thought into this as of late. Wisconsin. Big 3 Libra placements. Glasgow. Glass working/art. Gallows. Gallows humour. G surnames.

⋆ channeled song: John Legend - All of Me

Pile 3 || 🎧 cards: the chariot, four of swords rx, the magician, ten of swords, queen of wands, two of wands

Listen!!- Pile 3, please go for it!! Even if this doesn't last too long, I think there's great potential here for an absolutely amazing relationship/fling! The chemistry here is just insane… I don't know if it's this person themselves, or if it's actually the result of you two coming together, but I'm feeling HOT. I'm blushing. I'm excited. There's just so much passion here! I think this person is a smooth talker; not necessarily the most extroverted or talkative, but when they do talk to you, you can't help it but feel absolutely charmed. They are good-looking, smart, polite. I get a very venusian vibe coming them. They may put a lot of effort into how they look, not by vanity but because they genuinely like to take care of themselves + find it unmannerly to go out looking like a mess.

As for what's on their mind, my dear pile 3, I have good news for you! They have noticed you and thought about you before, and everything's very positive. They find you attractive, interesting, and a great catch, really. It also seems like they may have heard quite a bit about you (coming from others), and whatever was said gave them a very good impression on you, so even if you're not that well acquainted, they hold you in high regard already. However, with this 2oW, I feel like they may have other options, and if you don't make it clear that you want to explore a relationship with them, the opportunity might just pass you by. I actually don't see them making that move themselves, I'm sorry… There are other things/people holding their attention at the moment and for the foreseeable future. Still, The Strength rx + Queen of Cups at the bottom of the deck = the potential is here, and so is the chemistry I was talking about. Once you get this started, there's no stopping it! You'll be pulled in and taken on the most amazing ride.

⋆ extra messages:

E names. Emily. Emmett. Emerson. Soccer/football. Lia/Leah. India. Indya. I + IY/YI names. 2016 being a significant year - moving, meeting, Instagram following. June. Born on the 6th of the month. History. Brown hair and green eyes. Hazel eyes. Hazelnut. German family or travelling to Germany. Studying architecture or building architectural models. Learning french.

⋆ channeled song: Rihanna - Love On The Brain

Pile 4 || ♣️ cards: justice rx, page of cups rx, five of cups, page of pentacles rx, eight of pentacles

There's something very sad about this person and this pile. Your crush may have been or may be going through a difficult period, yet I feel like they've been doing their best to hide it. They laugh a lot, smile all day, joke around, but on the inside they are going through something that has been bringing them down. I think they feel lost, confused, alone. Maybe it's a family matter (like a divorce or some kind of separation), or perhaps it's just that, for some reason, they are now being forced to leave their home, friends and/or family, and it just hasn't been easy to them to accept and deal with that. There's a loss of stability here, and a loss of community. It could've happened already, too, by the way - they may already be in separation from their loved ones or away from the place they were used to calling home. On a positive note, I feel like this is temporary and they'll recover soon. It's just a low point for them. Also, they may be dealing with some concerns regarding their future and where to go next (professionally, academically, etc.), and that only adds to it all. As for the two of you, my dear pile 3, it seems like right now just isn't the right moment for anything to happen here. You can offer them friendship, some comfort, advice, support, but that's about it, I believe. This person has a lot to figure out at the moment, on their own, and whatever they have to offer you doesn't seem to be exactly what you need or want, deep down. It would lead to heartbreak, most likely. Still, this feels so sweet and so warm. So, maybe, you should give it some time and then give it a try… Because, honestly, I do think this person has some good feelings for you (or could grow some good feelings for you, if you aren't yet acquainted). They may not know what those are exactly, but I still think something really good could bloom from this.

⋆ extra messages:

A names. Adam. Adrienne. Greenland. Finland. Art class. Discussing or studying politics. Georgia. G names. Galicia. Meeting or seeing their father/father figure for the 1st time, or their father being mentioned in conversation a lot. Surgery. Torn ankle or some other leg/foot injury. Mockingbird. Buzzcut. Red nail polish.

⋆ channeled song: Billie Eilish - Bored

deck used || Tarot of the New Vision

(Disclaimer: Based on current energies. All is alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

[brainddeadd]

Batshit Crazy

My best friend, who is not an ice hockey fan, sent me this (below) and said: "write it so i can watch you lose your mind" and here we are..

“I can’t leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?”

“I mean, I’m fine so it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not okay. Not when I feel like I’m going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking you’ve hurt yourself.“

This with Quinn where he's normally calm and collected and reader gets injured on a boat day during the summer and his brothers and Trevor Zegras (who you should have told me had a sleeve much sooner) witness him freaking out, which is really unlike him

The summer sun beat down on the shimmering lake, casting golden reflections across the water’s surface as the boat hummed gently beneath you. It was a perfect day—one of those rare moments where everyone was together, laughing, joking around, and enjoying the peace of being away from the hectic NHL season. Quinn, as usual, was calm and composed, watching over everything with that quiet smile of his, his presence a steadying force.

But the calm was about to break.

You had been goofing off with Trevor Zegras and Quinn’s brothers, Jack and Luke, the three of them coaxing you into trying out some ridiculous stunt off the back of the boat. They’d all done it already—jumping into the water, racing, trying to outdo each other with tricks and flips. You had laughed so hard your stomach hurt watching them, but somehow, they’d managed to convince you to give it a try too.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

You didn’t account for the way you landed awkwardly in the water after being launched from the boat. The sharp pain shot up your leg as you hit the surface, and immediately, you knew something wasn’t right. You surfaced with a wince, trying to shake it off, but the throbbing was undeniable.

It didn’t take long for Quinn to notice. He always noticed when it came to you.

He was perched at the edge of the boat, sunglasses on, watching everyone in the water. When he saw you grimace, his posture stiffened instantly. “You good?” he called, his voice carrying over the water.

You waved him off, trying to play it cool, even though you could barely put weight on your leg when you tried to swim back toward the boat. “I’m fine!” you called back, though the strain in your voice betrayed you.

But Quinn wasn’t buying it. He was on his feet before you even got close to the boat, his brothers and Trevor still oblivious, laughing and joking around.

“Here, I’ll help you up,” Jack offered as you reached the ladder, his hand outstretched, but Quinn was already there, pushing him aside.

“Jack, move,” Quinn snapped, his tone sharp, uncharacteristically urgent. Jack blinked, surprised, but did as he was told, stepping back with a raised eyebrow.

You hauled yourself up onto the deck with Quinn’s help, biting back a groan as you twisted your leg in the process. Quinn’s hand was on your arm immediately, steadying you, his eyes narrowing as he looked at your face and then down to your leg.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to brush it off, but Quinn’s grip tightened just slightly.

“No, you’re not,” he muttered, kneeling down in front of you to get a better look at your leg. “What the hell happened?”

“I think I just landed wrong,” you admitted, wincing again as you shifted.

Quinn cursed under his breath, and that was when you realized something was off. Normally, Quinn was the calm one—the one who handled everything with quiet control, never letting anything rattle him. But right now, he looked anything but calm. His jaw was clenched, his hands tense as he examined your leg. The others were watching now, their laughter dying down as they sensed the shift in Quinn’s mood.

“Quinn, I’m okay,” you tried again, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Really. It’s just a little—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice tight. “It’s not okay.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the edge in his tone. “Quinn, it’s not a big deal. I mean, I’m fine so it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not okay.” He stood up abruptly, pacing a few steps away from you, running a hand through his hair. His brothers and Trevor exchanged glances, clearly confused by the sudden change in Quinn’s usually collected demeanor. “Not when I feel like I’m going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking you’ve hurt yourself.”

You froze, your eyes widening as you processed his words. Quinn never talked like this. He was always calm, measured, the steady one who kept his cool in any situation. Seeing him like this—panicked, frantic, and completely undone—threw you off.

“Quinn,” you said softly, standing up and wincing as you put weight on your injured leg. “It’s not that bad. I promise.”

But Quinn wasn’t having it. He turned to face you, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fear and frustration. “You can’t leave me alone for one second without hurting yourself, can you?” he snapped, his voice raw. “Do you have any idea what that does to me? Seeing you in pain? Knowing you could’ve seriously hurt yourself and I wasn’t there to stop it?”

“I… I didn’t realize,” you admitted, taken aback by the intensity of his reaction.

He let out a frustrated breath, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I can’t—” He paused, shaking his head as if he was trying to get his thoughts together. “I can’t handle seeing you hurt, okay? I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t. It drives me insane.”

By now, everyone was watching in stunned silence. Jack and Luke exchanged wide-eyed glances, clearly not used to seeing their older brother like this. Trevor looked equally shocked, his usual smirk replaced by concern.

You stepped toward Quinn, carefully limping as you closed the distance between you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t know.”

He looked down at you, his eyes softening slightly, though the tension still lingered in his posture. “I just… I can’t lose you, okay?” His voice cracked, and your heart clenched at the vulnerability behind his words. “I’m supposed to be the one who takes care of you. And when I can’t, it… it freaks me out.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Quinn. I’m okay.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his shoulders finally relaxing as he let out a shaky breath. “I know. I just… I overreacted.”

“Maybe a little,” you teased lightly, hoping to ease some of the tension. “But I get it now.”

He gave you a small, apologetic smile, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“You’re allowed to freak out sometimes,” you said softly, leaning into his touch. “Even if it’s weird seeing you lose your cool.”

Behind you, Jack muttered, “No kidding,” under his breath, and Trevor snorted.

But you ignored them, focusing on Quinn, whose calm was finally starting to return. “Just don’t scare me like that again, okay?” he murmured, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

You nodded, your heart full as you looked up at him. “Deal.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1980 home in Big Sur, CA is made of two interconnected giant redwood wine barrels. 3bds, 3ba, 1,940 sq ft, $3.265m.

The front of the house is one barrel and the back is the other.

So, here we are in the wine barrel living room.

There's a rounded bathroom off the kitchen.

I guess you're paying for the land and the uniqueness of the home, b/c it doesn't particularly look like a $3m home.

View from the kitchen sink.

This makes it look a little like a windmill, up here.

Family room on the 2nd fl.

The primary bedroom has a nice round window.

Facing sliding doors, this bed has a nice view. It's not a terrace, but there's a safety rail.

This bath is big and has lots of windows.

Here's another small room and it looks like there's another kitchen down here.

Some decking around the house.

Small deck and picnic table. The terrain looks rough.

The same family owned the home for 40yrs. and left the land fairly natural.

This place is way up in the mountains with dirt roads.

It looks like the land is at the foot of the mountain top.

So, here you can see that they connected both barrels by a single story structure. The lot is 5.33 acres.

And, there's the Pacific Ocean below.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1-Pfeiffer-Point-Big-Sur-CA-93920/440534759_zpid/?

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 kunoichi

synopsis: the story of how you met the strawhat crew (and your swordsman)

cw: lots of fluff, comfort, angst if you squint, slightest hint of simp zoro, you're a bad-ass, luffy saves you.

a/n: reposted from another account

'I can't believe I let this happen... I'm such an idiot...'

You knew the creak of a disembarking ship all too well, which only told you that the Strawhats were back way before the estimated time.

'S'what I get for trusting Kovu with gathering intel...'

With a sigh, you placed the rolled up poneglyph prints in their respective tubes and tied them to your back, silently ducking into the shadows when you heard footsteps outside the door.

You were currently aboard the Thousand Sunny, the flagship of the Strawhats, trying to steal their poneglyph prints for your boss.

It was a simple job, too. They were docked at some random island for supplies, and the reindeer who was left behind to watch the ship had fallen asleep.

No one would suspect a thing.

You should've been back on land by now, handing over the prints and finally breaking free from his abusive reign.

This job was your ticket to freedom.

Yet Kovu just had to fuck shit up.

'I can't stay holed up in this room forever. They'll get too far from land.'

With a huff, you slowly opened the door, happy to sense that no one was around.

'I need to find a way to get to the back of the ship. I can jump from there, and probably swim back.'

Quietly, you ran toward the stairs, happy you went barefoot for this mission instead of using your getas.

There was no possible way to get back there without being seen, so the least you could do was be fast about it.

You were up the stairs in the blink of an eye, and now sprinting straight for the gigantic, cannon-looking thing attached to the back of the boat.

'Almost home free...'

For the first time in years, you smiled, freedom just in reach.

Until it wasn't.

"YOHOHOHO! Um, guys! There's a lovely lady trying to sneak off the ship!" a skeleton man shrieked, landing in front of you and blocking your easy exit, drawing a sword from his cane. "AHHHH! SHE HAS THE PONEGYLPHS!"

Soul King Brook

'Dammit! Time to try the front!'

You back flipped, twisting yourself in the air so you landed the oposite way, allowing you to book it in the other direction.

"You can't be serious!" a redheaded woman exclaimed, running up the steps and to the back deck with a small orange and white staff in hand.

Cat Burgler Nami.

She ran at you, the staff extending into something much larger.

She swung, aiming for your head, but you dropped into a split just in time, using your extended leg to sweep her feet and knock her on her ass.

You grabbed her staff as he was distracted, squeezing it by accident. Out of nowhere, it extended impossibly long, shooting you into the air.

'Luck may be on my side today.'

You smirked as you flew up the side of the mast, getting about halfway up before planting your feet on it, running up the rest.

You managed to get to the yard, perching yourself so you could look for another form of escape, when you sensed something.

Nico Robin.

You jumped off the yard, grabbing onto it like a monkey bar just as four pale arms sprouted from the wood, attempting to grab you.

"Whoa! That's so cool!" a giddy voice exclaimed from below.

Your gaze quickly shifted to the deck below, only to see that trademark hat, and the notorious man that it rested on.

'Strawhat!'

You could sense another attack coming your way so you swung yourself as if you were on uneven bars and let go, flying into the air.

"Is she nuts?! She's gonna kill herself from that height!" a large man with weirdly shaped blue hair exclaimed from below.

Cyborg Franky.

The swing was too short.

You wouldn't go overboard.

'Curse these heavy cuffs!'

One silver cuff was attached to each of your ankles, their being there out of your control.

Noticing you were getting dangerously close to the ground, you imbued your legs with some haki and landed safely, creating a small crater on the grassy deck.

As the dust settled, you realized you were surrounded by Strawhat, the Pirate Hunter, and Blackfoot.

'Shit.'

"GAHHHH! SHE'S SO GORGEOUS! LOOK AT HER SHORT KIMONO!" Sanji squealed as his eyes turned into hearts, blood shooting from his nose.

Despite the blonde man's... awkward display, you sensed another pair of eyes on you, so much so that it practically burned.

The Pirate Hunter?

The second you turned to him, your heart caught in your throat.

You had seen his face on his wanted poster a few times before, and you'd be stupid to deny that he wasn't a handsome man, but looking at him in the flesh...

The pictures didn't even begin to do him justice.

And before you realized, the two of you locked eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if your legs turned to jelly.

A warm, fluttery feeling spread throughout your stomach, and it felt as if everything else in the world had stopped.

'What is feeling? Have I been poisoned?'

Just going off his glare, you could already tell that most cowered under his gaze.

So why were you reacting this way?

Shaking your head, you snapped yourself out of it, focusing on the task at hand.

'No time to gawk... back to work.'

"You... what are you doing on my ship? And why are you stealing Robin's ponegylphs?" Strawhat asked seriously, his face quite the contrast from his giddy expression before.

You sighed.

There was no way you could lie out of this mess.

"I am a kunoichi of the Iguro clan. And I have been ordered to steal your ponegylph prints," you stated, tone firm.

"Any idea why?" Nami asked, her and the rest of the crew walking over.

"None. I am left completely in the dark," you shook your head.

Your expression quickly turned determined.

"But I do know that this final job is my one way ticket out of hell, so peacefully or not, I'm leaving."

You lowered yourself into an offensive stance, glaring at Strawhat as his lips grew a smirk.

He cracked his knuckles, "Alright, then."

"Luffy, you better not hurt her!" Sanji fumed from the sidelines.

Using your haki, you peered into the near future to see him punch you with an extended arm.

'Can't have that.'

"Gum Gum Pistol!"

You tilted to the side, avoiding his hit with ease.

The entire group gasped, save for Zoro.

Strawhat's grin grew even larger, if that was possible, and he wound up both arms.

'A barrage of fists.'

"Gum Gum Gatling!"

The attack came quickly, but you dodged just like the first, flipping, lunging, and performing splits to dodge.

Imbuing your arms with haki, you grabbed one of his arms, harshly pulling him toward you.

And like a bungee cord, he came, and you slammed a flattened hand into the pressure point on his neck, knocking him out.

"Luffy!" the crew exclaimed.

Without hesitation, Zoro drew two of his swords and broke into a sprint, so you dropped his captain and drew your own katana, meeting his two with a sharp clash.

He smirked, which made that fluttery feeling return to your stomach.

"I see you use Ittoryu," he remarked with a slight rumble.

You smirked right back.

"I'm knowledgeable in the style, yes."

The both of you pushed off, returning to your stances before running at each other again.

Swords flew through the air as the both of you met the other's attack perfectly.

You lunged into an attack, but he blocked it yet again, so you hooked your outstretched foot on his ankle, deepening your lunge to pull him down.

He grunted, doing everything he could to keep his stance planted and balanced; so, you imbued your foot with haki, and he did the same for his.

He seemed almost surprised by the fact that you were still pushing your sword against his—despite your compromising position—openly demonstrating your strength, and proving it was comparable to his.

No even Tashigi could do that.

And not only was he impressed by the woman in front of him, but in silent awe.

Sure, your beauty was what caught his attention first—he was a man, after all.

Smooth, chestnut skin...

Plump lips...

Beautiful hip dips and curves...

Sparkling, (e/c) eyes, which looked as if they held stars in your gaze...

But now that he saw your fighting prowess, and raw strength along with it...

Well, you could say you had him hook, line, and sinker.

Still, you kept strong, holding your sword firm in its place as the Pirate Hunter continued to push down.

That is... until the pain equivalent to a thousand lightning bolts stemmed from your ankles.

'No! Not now!'

As you let out a cry of pain, Zoro quickly pulled away his swords, moving before the electricity could be conducted to him.

You dropped your katana, falling over as you held yourself in agony, muffling your shouts of pain on your forearm.

"What's wrong? What did you do to her, moss for brains?!" Sanji asked, yelling at the green-hared swordsman.

"I didn't do anything to her!" Zoro fired back, glaring at the cook.

He didn't know why, but seeing you in so much pain made him hurt.

It was a sharp, pulling feeling, as if his heart was on a string connected to you.

"The shocks seem to be coming from her ankles," Robin pointed out, everyone's attention turning to the cuffs that adorned your feet.

"How do we git it off her? 'Cause that looks super painful," Franky asked, grimacing at the sight of you writhing in pain.

It was then that Strawhat got back up from the ground, looking at you with a blank face.

"Oi, (y/n)? Can you hear me?" your bossed asked, his voice coming from the cuffs.

"Shit," you cursed, weakly trying to get up.

"I'll take that as a yes," you could practically hear his smirk from the other side. "Lemme cut to the chase... you failed your mission, plain and simple. So, you know the consequences."

"No!" you let out a choking gasp, trying to speak through the pain. "I've... I've worked with you for ten years! My debt is paid! We had an agreement!"

"You stupid girl!" he cackled. "I was never going to honor our agreement! You're too good of an asset to pass up! You will work under me for the rest of your pathetic, little life!"

The ship went dead silent, the Strawhat crew looking at you sorrily as tears poured down your cheeks.

Ten years of your life... gone.

All because you believed in the word of a pirate.

He was right... you really were stupid.

Painfully, you turned to Strawhat, who looked over the situation intently.

That's when you got an idea, and settled on it instantly.

Down on your hands and knees, you bowed your head to the captain, the rest of the crew letting out quiet gasps.

"Strawhat, I... hnnggh... I apologize for knocking you out earlier and... un-understand that I am in no place to ask you for such a favor but..."

You lowered your head to the ground, accepting that you would have to die in a state of embarrassment and weakness.

"Please kill me."

If you thought the crew was shocked before, they were flabbergasted now.

Even Zoro.

"I've wasted the last ten years of my life with that monster. And now that there's no end in sight, I do not wish to live."

Strawhat kept the same neutral face as he slowly approached.

You took a deep breath, smiling as you realized your suffering would soon be over, and the bliss of nothingness would welcome you.

But it never came.

Strawhat instead walked past you, silently, and you understood.

'I should've known...'

Such a favor couldn't be done for someone who just stole from him.

Suddenly, you felt the weight release form your ankles, and the shocks stop.

Your eyes shot wide as you lifted your head, snapping around to see that Strawhat had broken the cuffs off for you.

"Hey, guy!" he shouted, leaning down to the broken pieces. "I don't know if you can hear me anymore, but know that (y/n) is under my protection! And she won't be paying back your stupid debt anymore!"

You breath was trapped in your chest, unable to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth.

In one motion, a man you had just met—a man that you tried to steal from—had set you free.

After ten years of hellish torture, you were finally free.

But you still tried to compose yourself, sniffling as he turned back around to face you.

"Why didn't you kill me?" you quietly asked, looking away from the man.

His smile grew into a full on grin, "All you needed was a little help. There was no reason to kill you."

Your eyes went wide.

There was no way.

This had to be a trick.

"Next time just ask."

Your ears perked at that part.

"Next time?" you asked.

"Oh, yeah! I meant to ask," he cheesed. "Do ya wanna join my crew? It'd be so cool if we had a kunoichi!"

You were shocked to say the least, looking over the rest of the crew's faces to see that they were smiling as well.

Never before had you been met with such kindness.

They weren't even getting anything in return.

You sniffled, clearing your throat.

"I would like that," you smiled, looking down at the ground.

As he cheered, and ordered Black Leg to cook a banquet in celebration, you wiped a stray tear from your cheek, looking up at the clear, blue sky.

Strawhat Luffy would never know the bounds of your thanks.

You could never repay him.

[muzzlemouths]

Day 1 — "Best friend"

"Alright, I've got one. How do you make a tissue dance?"

You stifle a snort, smiling ahead of the punchline. "How?"

"You put a little boogie in it!" Sun slaps his knee with a metallic clang that echoes, shoulders bouncing with laughter that mirrors your own. "Get it?"

"Very funny," you answer. "Did you hear about the guy who stole all that soap?"

The kiddie chair groans under his weight as Sun leans closer, his laughter momentarily forgotten. Suddenly he's very, very serious. "I haven't heard a thing," his rays dance a little, shrinking inward. "Did they catch him?"

Humming, your hand digs idly into the tub of pony beads sitting between you, dragging the answer out as long as you can. A theatrically deep sigh escapes you. "I'm afraid not," you tell him. "They say he made a clean getaway."

A smirk slowly creeps onto your face as he twitches in your peripheral vision. The wall clock ticks once. Twice.

"Oh, you sneaky little—" He breaks for laughter, wheezing with an automated grind of rusty levers deep within his chassis that sounds more akin to a deflating balloon. "The set up, the punch line, the drama," his palm lands with a humored thump against the table, bouncing the beads in their tub. "That was a good one. You're going to beat me at my own game, at this rate!"

"Oh, hardly." Your hand swims through the rainbow sea of beads in search of a specific shade of blue. "I'm just repeating what I remember out of my jokes book."

Sun threads a letter bead onto the elastic cord pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "A whole book full of jokes?" His faceplate spins with excitement. "Oh, pinch me! What a thrill!"

"Yeah, it was pretty cool, I guess. The library billed me for its hospital stay, though."

"Hospital—huh?"

"Well I had it so long, I broke the spine," you curb your laughter behind a façade of seriousness, not allowing him enough time to process the first punch line before decking him with the second. "I tried getting an appointment with a good doctor, but they were all booked!"

Sun is doubled over before the last of it is even out of your mouth, having evidently picked up on where the joke was headed, already, and still it has him entirely consumed by glee. He's going to break the kid's table between you if he slams his fist into it any harder.

Having successfully located the correct shade of blue, you slide the last bead to sit beside the rest and finally tie the cord off with a knot, neat and tidy. It's nothing special as far as kandi bracelets go, but you're proud of the effort behind it, regardless. After all, you weren't prepared to do any crafting today in the first place. Sun had asked you to help him sort the new shipment of beads before you went home for the night — one thing led to another and, well, here you are.

"All finished!" Sun quells his laughter enough that he can tie off his own bracelet; a parade of pastels in every color with the letter's "BFF" at the center. It hangs on a single finger, dwarfed by his massive hand, as he offers it to you with a big, cheesy grin. "Well? What d'ya think?"

The bracelet slips over your palm and comes to a rest just below the joint like a slipper made to fit. "BFF?"

"Best friends forever!"

"I love it," you tell him, feeling warmed by the notion. "Want to see mine?"

Too impatient to wait for an answer, you hand over your second bracelet of the night — a string of midnight blue with chunky yellow stars in between — and watch as his eyes light up and his voicebox crackles with a certain gravel that isn't quite his.

"Pretty," he says. Too short of a remark to have come from Sun. He slides it along his own wrist to sit above the yellow bracelet already there.

"Well, I should get home." The miniscule chair topples backwards as you stand, hands bracing against the table. "Sorry I couldn't stay longer tonight. There's a concert opening downtown and I want to get back before the traffic gets too bad."

Sun follows your lead and awkwardly squirms his way out of the kid's chair. "You could always stay the night," he says. The giggle in his voice is the only way to know for sure that he's joking. "Let me walk you out, at least."

These moments are your favorite. When the world is quiet, and you can enjoy each other's company without worrying about what tomorrow brings. It makes every goodbye feel like it will last forever. Who would have known that a friend could ever feel so much like home.

Sun opens the door for you, but stands in its path, shifting the weight between his feet with a metallic ring of his bells and a doting expression like he has a thousand things he wishes to say to you. Ultimately, he settles for something simple, yet no less fond.

"See you in the morning."