#but in other ships where i had a preference

[hannahbarberra162]

Pipe Dreams (Yan Childhood Friend Sabo x Reader)

I got this as an ask so long ago and lost it but I do have a screenshot of it. Here's the prompt:

This is not entirely what you asked for Nonnie but I hope it scratches your itch. It's a little light on the Yan but I hope you can see where it's going :3

On Ao3

TW: abusive husband mentioned (not Sabo ofc)

WC: ~4.5k

~~~

“Hurry!” you yelled at the servants rushing down the hall to the small steel doors at the back of the large hall. You were trying to move them as quickly as you could before the Revolutionary Army found them and conscripted them to service - or worse. You had a crying child in your arms as you ran towards the doors, the mother carrying the younger sibling towards the safety of the escape hatch. There was no doubt in your mind that you needed all the servants behind the impenetrable doors in the bunker. They’d be safe in there and if they needed to, they could take the tunnel to the cove where you kept a ship in case of such emergencies.

Your husband didn’t know about these contingency plans, of course. He would tell you that spending money on servants was a waste and that they could fend for themselves should any kind of crisis arise. But you couldn’t reconcile that idea with the people who took care of you and your estate every single day. They were people with emotions, feelings, families, just like you. Not that you said any of this to your husband, he would have beat you for such outlandish ideas. 

No, you just waited until he was drunk and raided his vault of Beri and jewels. Since that happened every day he was at the estate, you were able to amass quite a bit of money for renovations in case of attack. He was also often absent from the estate, off with other nobles drinking, gambling, and whoring. You didn’t mind that he sought out other women, it kept him from bothering you. In fact, you strongly preferred when he was gone, the air on the estate was much less tense than when he was present. 

Since you’d become a noble’s wife, you’d heard endless tales of what happened to those islands unfortunate enough to have their estates ransacked by pirates or the Revolutionary Army. The nobles always focused on the looting of riches, the burning of the estates and the loss of property but you found the fortune of the servants to be the most horrific of all. Your husband had told you that noble servants were taken as front line cannon fodder by the Revolutionary Army whereas pirates would sell them directly into the slave trade. It was said that noble women would be taken as concubines for Commanders in the best of cases or whores for the army if they were too mouthy. When you had first taken up the mantle of being in charge of your husband’s estate in his absence you decided that protecting those who depended on you would be your primary goal and no one would come to harm while working under your supervision.

Even though you were born of a noble family yourself, you never felt like you fit in with noble society, even as a child. Maybe it had something to do with being the fourth daughter born to your parents. By the time you were born they already had three perfect noble daughters to marry off later in life. You were brash, wild, and difficult to control unlike your golden sisters. Your parents were also much older when they had you, there was a considerable gap between you and your next sister. All in all, that meant you were often left to your own devices as a child, allowed to roam free in the Goa Kingdom. You’d had the time of your life until your parents married you off - too young in your opinion - and your childhood had come to an abrupt end. 

As you learned via your husband’s vicious fist to acclimate yourself to noble society as an adult, you found yourself reflecting on your childhood more and more as the years crept by. You would catch yourself staring at the forest on your lonely island, wondering how your childhood friends were doing, if they were well. When you did have the rare chance to leave your island estate, you quickly learned to keep your prior adventures to yourself. The women turned up their noses to you and the men found you crude and distasteful. 

Even though you’d felt stifled by the snobby and suffocating noble society, you hadn’t spent most of your time within the confines of your familial home. You enjoyed sneaking out of your parent’s estate and playing all day long in the woods, coming home only when you completely ran out of food or needed some kind of supply. Your parents and governesses had tried various means of locking you in your rooms but they’d never been able to keep you inside, your desire for adventure too strong to be overcome by mere locks.

And those adventures most often included your friends Ace, Luffy, and Sabo. You’d met the brothers one day when you and Ace had both aimed for the same tiger to kill for food, your spear shoved through its skull as Ace’s pipe struck it on the head. You believed it was yours, Ace said it was his, and the two of you were wrestling in the dirt with Luffy cheering Ace on in the background. Sabo had intervened in the fight, breaking it up by forcing the two of you apart by nudging you with his lead pipe as you sat on Ace’s chest, punching him.

“Wait, Ace. What’s going on here? This girl’s a noble, she’ll be nothing but trouble,” the blonde boy asked, looking you up and down suspiciously. You spat blood on the ground and crossed your arms. How did he figure it out? Sure, you were wearing a dress but a lot of girls did, that wasn’t enough to have him mark you as a noble.

“So’re you, doesn’t mean anything,” you countered, annoyed that he’d stopped the fight while you had the upper hand.

“Am not! These are my brothers,” he huffed, pointing to the other two boys. They were obviously not blood brothers, the blonde so different looking than his siblings.

“Are too! Look at your stupid hat and cravat. You’re definitely a noble,” you teased, sticking out your tongue. You were a head taller than either of the two older boys and guessed you were a few years older. Still, being a petulant brat was more fun than taking the higher ground any day.

“Well, that string of expensive beads around your neck shows that you’re one too!” the blonde said, sticking his tongue back out at you. The other two brunette boys were now just watching the exchange, though the older of the two was gripping his own lead pipe now and frowning at you. Looking down, you realized you were still wearing the stupid jewelry that your mother had forced on you earlier that day. Shrugging, you reached behind your neck and unclasped the necklace to pool it in your palm. Extending it to the oldest dark haired boy, you offered it to him.

“Want this?” you asked, genuinely disinterested in the fate of the necklace. The boy eyed it warily. He was scuffed and bleeding from your earlier fight but didn’t pay much attention to his wounds.

“It looks like Dadan’s!” the smaller boy said excitedly, reaching for the necklace. His older brother narrowed his eyes and smacked the boy’s hand away from your own. 

“ ‘M Ace. Gimme this and you can have the tiger,” he said, grabbing the necklace quickly. 

“But then what will we eat?” whined the young boy while he rubbed his stomach. Ace shrugged.

“We’re good hunters, we can find something else Luffy. She can have it since she won’t be able to get anything else probably,” Ace derided you with a smirk. You saw red as you grabbed him by the front of his ugly tank top.

“Won’t be able to get anything else probably? What the fuck -”

“Oooh she said a bad word, Sabo’s gonna be mad,” Luffy said with a grin, pointing at you.

“Sabo? Like, Outlook and Didit’s son? I heard you died. That’s what all the adults were whispering about the last time I was home,” you said with confusion, letting go of Ace’s shirt. Coming up to study the blonde’s face, you squinted as you looked him over.

“You seem pretty alive to me. Unless you’re a ghost or something,” you mused, rubbing your chin. 

“Sabo’s a ghost?!?” cried Luffy, clutching his face in horror.

“ ‘M not a ghost, idiot,” Sabo scoffed at Luffy. Turning to you, he sized you up as well. “So they think I’m dead?” he asked curiously. You shrugged, getting your paring knife from your pack.

“Dunno, didn’t stick around too long to listen, I had stuff to do. Got stuff to do now too - if you guys help me skin this thing I’ll share the meat. ‘S too much for me and I don’t like wasting food,” you said offhand. The truth was skinning was your least favorite part of the meat preparation process and you wanted to trick them into doing it for you. 

“I’ll do it!!” Luffy offered, reaching for the knife. His arm extended past what he should have been able to reach, making your eyes widen.

“Uh…is that normal?” you asked, turning to Sabo as you smacked Luffy’s hand away from you. It retracted like a rubber band, snapping back to Luffy. You knew you were a sheltered noble kid but even so you were pretty sure regular people couldn’t turn their arms into rubber. It was Sabo’s turn to shrug as he replied.

“For Luffy it is. Let him do this part, we can start the fire.” 

One tiger meat meal later and you became friends with the three brothers. You spent your days adventuring in the forest with them, hunting and exploring what the world had to offer. They taught you to fight using a lead pipe and in return you taught them some of your fishing techniques. They never made fun of you for being a noble but occasionally teased you for being a girl or being unable to stand up to pee. You didn’t mind though, you could tell it was good natured, unlike when your sisters told you that you were ugly or stupid like a wild animal. You started returning home more frequently to raid the pantry and storage for things the brothers needed or wanted for their tree house. It was harder to sneak out with coils of rope or entire dried hams but it was worth it to sleep in a pile with your friends under the night sky, finally feeling loved and wanted for once in your short life. 

As you spent more time with the brothers, you found yourself gravitating towards Sabo. You shared a lot in common with him and felt the closest connection to him emotionally. You told him about life with your sisters and parents and he shared a little about his own home life. He was funny and cute, and could be sweet when he wanted to be. One night as Ace and Luffy laid in a pile snoring by the fire, you and Sabo were the only two left awake under the stars. The two of you sat side by side in silence and stared into the flames, each of you with your own thoughts.

“Maybe when I get older I could marry you and we could live in the forest. I wouldn’t have to live in a stupid castle or go to boring dinner parties and we could have fun instead,” you said quietly, breaking the silence. Sabo didn’t turn his head or answer for a few moments of silence, making your face flame in embarrassment. You wrapped your arms around your shins, hugging them close, putting your chin on the tops of your knees.

“I was just jok-” you started to say, trying to take it back before he could make fun of you.

“Ok,” Sabo answered, now looking at you. The left side of his face looked like it was covered in flames as the fire light danced over his skin.

“O-ok?” you stuttered in surprise, unwrapping your arms from your shins.

“I don’t plan on going back to my family ever. But if you need to marry someone, I want it to be me,” Sabo said, standing on his knees to put his hands on your shoulders. You mirrored his stance and were now both on your knees with hands on each other's shoulders, looking into each other’s faces.

“Do you promise?” you whispered as Sabo stared at your face.

“I do. But let’s get married now so we don’t have to wait,” Sabo said, nodding his head as if in agreement with himself.

“How do we do that?” you asked, unsure what the process of marriage actually entailed.

“All we have to do is kiss on the lips, that’s what adults do. I read in a book once that a promise borne in flames is a promise forever kept, so we can do it by the fire to make it permanent,” Sabo said, cupping his hands on your cheeks. You nodded, your eyes on his lips. You’d never kissed anything besides your cat’s head before, you weren’t sure what to do but Sabo seemed to know so you let him lead.

He used his hands to pull you closer to his body as his eyes closed. It seemed like the thing to do so you scrunched yours shut as well and leaned in while pushing your lips into a circle. Your pursed lips made contact with his own for a few seconds before he pulled away. It was a little weird feeling, a little slimy, but you felt something right settle over your shoulders as Sabo looked into your eyes again. 

“You don’t have to go back home now or marry anyone else. We’re married,” Sabo said solemnly. You nodded back at him, sitting down on your butt again. Sabo did the same but this time you leaned your head against his shoulder. It was a heady feeling to get married under the stars but shortly thereafter you fell asleep on your new husband as he watched the fire die down. 

Unfortunately, life didn’t remain as idyllic as it was during your time with the ASL brothers. Shortly thereafter, Sabo died in a boating accident, and your parents had you married off to a noble fifteen years your senior a few weeks later. They said that since they couldn’t control you, they found someone who could. Your will to defy his orders eventually diminished as the years went on, your battered and bruised body unable to take continuous abuse. After you were married you weren’t able to keep in contact with Ace and Luffy, stuck by yourself in your isolated island estate. Your only source of information was what your husband told you or the old newspapers he’d leave behind in his office but those were months if not years out of date. You stopped trying to escape after your husband broke your leg after the third attempt and settled into a depressing life as a noble lady, putting your energy into improving the lives of those around you.

Which meant that you had to get everyone through the metal doors before the Revolutionary Army found them. You heard the sounds of fighting and yelling as the guards closest to your hall were engaged by the Army combatants. Although the guards were brave and dutiful, you’d seen the ship the RA had come in on and heard the tales of their strength - your friends would be no match for the revolutionaries. You had begged the guards to join the servants and leave the island but they had refused, preferring to fight the incoming intruders.

“We must hurry! Engage the doors!” you yelled at the elderly men working the metal doors. They began the slow process of sealing the room as servants continued to flood through. You were glad you’d ordered them to start since the fighting sounded like it was right outside the door to the hall. Handing off the child in your arms to one of your maids, you grabbed a lead pipe leaning against one of the cream colored walls and began running towards the entry point to the hall.

“My Lady! You must -” your closest servant Isla called to you as you ran towards the locked entry doors. 

“Get everyone through to safety. Once the last of you are in, do not open the door. Not for any reason - no matter what you hear! Do you understand me?” you yelled at a pale faced Isla.

“Y-yes, milady,” she said as the banging on the door grew louder, the wooden beam across it beginning to bow. Facing the door, you held your pipe in two hands and lowered yourself to ready, just like Ace had taught you all those years ago. You hadn’t fought in a long time but your body retained some of the muscle memory as you crouched down. Although you kept your face hard, you were quaking inside. Whoever was on the other side of the door was incredibly strong, the wood barrier creaking under the strain that they were putting on it. You imagined there would be at least a dozen fighters who would take you right there - or if you were unlucky make an example out of you. 

“Milady, everyone is in, please -” but Isla’s voice was drowned out by the wood beam shattering, sending wood shavings all over the floor and yourself.

“CLOSE THE DOORS ISLA!” you screamed at her, still facing the opponents you couldn’t yet see. If the gate didn’t close, everything you had worked for would be for naught. The telltale sound of the metal door banging shut and the latch locking in place had you exhaling slightly now that all your servants were hidden and safe. The only person who was left was you and you’d come to terms with your own mortality long ago. Squaring your shoulders, you held your pipe out in front of you as you waited for your enemies to approach.

The ornate wooden doors in front of you opened slowly as the locks gave way. Only one person seemed to be emerging from the smoke and carnage beyond the doors. Your hands tightened around your pipe - if there was only one person they were incredibly strong to have defeated all those guards and broke through the doors by themselves. As the man passed into the light, you saw a familiar top hat and cravat. This time though, they weren’t on the body of a child but on a full grown man. 

“S-sabo?” you whispered, half dropping your pipe to the ground. You picked it back up quickly - this was no time for a reunion with a ghost. Sabo was dead and whoever stood in front of you was not your childhood friend but an enemy who came to hurt your people. His eyes opened wider, though one was covered in scar tissue from an old wound.

“C-come no further - there’s nothing for you here!” you yelled, twirling your pipe in your hands. You noticed he held his own lead pipe in his left hand, though his had blood dripping onto your floor. 

“Yes, I saw you left the vaults open before we even breached the walls. Quite a strategy,” the man replied calmly. You stiffened and gripped your pipe so tight your knuckles were white.

“If it's riches you want, they’re all there. The kitchens are open, as are the food stores and stables. Th-there’s nothing else in the estate,” you hissed, watching the man warily. He was walking around you in a narrowing circle, staring at you as though you were a missing piece of a puzzle. You gulped but didn’t run - you didn’t want to lead him to the location of your servants. 

“And your servants? Your slaves?” he asked, now too close for your comfort. You were breathing heavily not from exertion but from fear. You were spinning in place to keep yourself facing him at all times as he walked casually around you, assessing you from head to foot.

“We have no slaves, only servants. They’re safe, away from you,” you hissed as the man drew closer. 

“Did you let them run away? Or did you have them killed in advance?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“Wh-what? N-no! How could you say such a thing? They’re gone, they’re safe, like I told you!” you said, aghast that someone could think to do such things. The man continued to stare hard at your face. 

“So that I understand, allow me to recapitulate. It is only you, the lady of the estate who remains, while your servants and staff have been ferried to safety? And we are free to take any of your wealth, food, or animals as we please?” he asked, now touching a priceless vase still on a shelf with a gloved hand. Tilting it onto its side with a finger, he watched your face as he tipped it over to the floor, shattering the porcelain. You didn’t bat an eye but kept your sights - and pipe - trained on him.

“Yes, because I know what you’d do to them. You would -”

“Let me guess. You were told they’d be taken to the RA as slaves and sent to the front lines as to die in battle. Maybe that we’d hunt them for sport, taking you as a whore for any RA commander who chose to use you. Does that summarize the matter?” he asked.

“Y-yes. And I won’t let that happen to them. You can take me - I’ll submit myself. But you will not be sacrificing my people for a fight that is not their own,” you said. Stepping over the shattered pieces of vase on the floor, he stopped circling and walked straight towards you. You crouched lower but the man used a single finger to push your pipe down past your chest while you struggled against him.

“That’s not what would happen. We free them. They’re free to leave and start new lives or join the Army if they so choose,” he stated, reaching for you. You flinched out of reflex but quickly adjusted yourself as the man frowned.

“I know what you’re doing,” you stated, no closer to righting your pipe than you were previously.

“Oh? And what would that be?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“You’re trying to trick me, have me lower my defenses and tell you where everyone is. It’s not going to happen,” you said, swiping your pipe to the side away from his finger. With it free, you swung it to the side to hit the man across the head but he grabbed it and took the pipe out of your hands as easily as if you were a child, throwing it across the room beyond your reach. 

“It can be difficult to adjust after a lifetime of lies and propaganda,” he said calmly, not making any more movements towards you. “We save people from upper class brutality, not bring them to harm. We don’t even kill the nobles whose houses we raid. We take your money and belongings, free your workers, and leave you to your own devices. I’m sure most of you wish you were dead with no money and no servants, but we try to avoid killing people. Come with me and I’ll show you,” he said, offering his arm like an upper class gentleman would for an evening stroll.

“You’re - you’re trying to confuse me, but it won’t work! That’s why you dressed up like him, I just know it!” you yelled, taking a step backwards. The man’s eyes snapped to your own as he stepped forward.

“Like who?” he asked, his tone icy. You shivered under the intensity of his gaze as his eyes bored into your own. He already had you alone and unarmed, you might as well speak your mind.

“I-it doesn’t matter. Like someone from my childhood -”

“WHO,” he demanded, his hands reaching to grip your upper arms in an iron vice.

“S-sabo,” you said quietly, scared he was going to backhand you or shake you like your husband had so many times before. His grip and eyes softened but he didn’t let you go. There was no sound other than that of your harsh breaths as the man held you in place. After a moment, he began to speak softly.

“I - that’s me. I’m Sabo. I don’t - I can only remember part - I was in -”

“You’re not Sabo! He died!” you cried out, tears filling your eyes. You’d cried for months over his death and to hear someone lying about being him was too distressing to listen to. Ace didn’t like cry babies, he’d told you many times, but you couldn’t help but cry for your lost friend and husband. You tried to pull your arm away so you could run from this imposter.

“A promise borne in flames -” Sabo started to say, one of his gloved hands rising to cup your face.

“Is a promise forever kept,” you finished, a tear falling down your cheek. You wailed as you began crying in earnest, wrapping your arms around his torso. Clutching him towards you he put his hands around your back, patting your back gently. 

“S-Sabo, I th-thought you d-died,” you cried into his stupid cravat, the same ugly kind he’d always worn. He pulled your face gently off his chest, his hands spanning your face as he looked into your eyes.

“I don’t remember everything but some of it is coming back to me. I - we got married, right?” he asked tenderly, thumbs sweeping over your cheeks. You laughed through a hiccup.

“Yeah, we did. Sorry, I got re-married,” you joked with a small smile, motioning to the mansion you currently lived in. Sabo chuckled, settling his hands on your waist and pulling you closer.

“Did you keep in contact with Ace and Luffy? I’ve thought about all of you so many times and I -” you started to get excited, eager to hear news about the other two brothers. Sabo’s face had a faraway look as he avoided your question.

“C’mon, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about what happened,” he stated, pulling you towards the broken door by your arm. You stalled, trying to get some more time to think for a moment. You didn’t like your island estate and you certainly didn’t love or like your husband but after all those years, you didn’t know Sabo either. You didn’t think Sabo would do something terrible to you but you’d heard so many horror stories about the RA that you didn’t want to verify for truth first hand. 

“Wh - I - Sabo, this is all a lot. You can take whatever you need or want from this shithole, but I thought you said you leave -” Sabo cut you off by picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. As kids, you’d been a head taller than Sabo but now he was the taller one - and much stronger besides.

“I’m not losing you again. You’re coming with me,” he said with finality, striding towards the open doors. 

Taglist @divinedolliebun @mfreedomstuff

[huntercollectivewritingpile]

I assume ya do noncon/dubcon since that wasent on your ‘won’t do’ list.

Hear me OUTTT, Jimmy sneaking into readers room (preferably fem :3 but I don’t mind masc) fucking them, and then making them really over stimulated and forcing them to cum a bunch until it hurts just so he can say “if you didn’t like it, then why did you fucking cum.” Or “your cunt/dick seems to like this a wholeeee lot.” Just overall body betrayal type shit 😋

HELLO!!! I was out when this got requested cut I started writing as soon as I got home :))

Also feel free to give me feedback I need it :D

JIMMY X FEM! READER

NON-CON, P IN V, CREAMPIE, UNPROTECTED SEX, OVERSTIMULATION, MULITPLE ORGASMS.

You and Jimmy hadn't really gotten along for the time you'd been on the tulpar. 

You didn't like his loathsome personality, always so full of himself yet reeking of insecurities, you'd wondered how Curly managed to put up with him for so long. 

It was late at night aboard the ship, you'd just finally managed to get relaxed, on the brink of sleep. So tired you didn't hear the door open or feel the bed dip, but as soon as the stranger let a puff of air out on your neck, your eyes shot open. 

There he hovers above you, in all his unholy glory. 

Jimmy. 

Before you can let out any loud noise he slaps his hand over your mouth, silencing you quickly. 

“Don’t even try, skank." His voice comes out harsh but quiet. He leans down to your ear and lets out a small chuckle. 

His other hand runs up the sheet covering your body before roughly pulling it down and grabbing at your body. His hand moves around a bit before grabbing your breast and giving a rough squeeze, you let out a strangled squeak, starting to wiggle around under his grip. 

Jimmy doesn't let you get far before pinning your torso down with his free hand, once you stop moving as much he slowly reaches down your nightshirt to pull it up and expose your (not-so-attractive) underwear. 

He moves to look down at where his hand sits, right on the top of your mon pubis. He lets out another chuckle before looking you in the eye. He quickly replaces his hand covering your mouth with his lips. 

You let out another squeak, attempting to move your face away from his chapped lips, you fail miserably in your attempts and he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat. You try not to gag at the taste of his saliva, a mix of old cigarettes and what he had for dinner. 

He moves his hand to pull your underwear down, moving it to just below your knees. He keeps his mouth on yours, slowly moving his shorts down with his boxers. His dick springs out; 5 inches of pure girth. His dick is hard as a rock, you can feel the heat radiating off it onto you. 

He removes his lips from yours and smirks," I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. “ 

You start to feel tears build up in your eyes, overwhelmed with his intensity. Before you can even react, he quickly spreads you open with his dick, tearing you apart you let out a loud yelp. He quickly shuts you up with another heated make-out session. He doesn't even try to comfort you as he moves, thrusting in and out at a speedy pace. One hand moves to your clit while the other goes to grip your neck. 

You can feel tears streaming down your face, the pain in your groin screaming at you, it slowly subsides into pleasure as his dick reaches all the good spots inside you. You can quickly feel your orgasm approaching, his fingers on your clit aren't helping either. 

Your brain screams at you to get him to stop, to scream, scratch, but you can’t, it feels too good and you might miss the feeling of him inside you. 

His lips move off yours to mock you, “I can feel you squeezing down on me, you gonna cum, baby?” 

You let out a choked sob, moving your hands to grip his shoulders and pathetically try to move him off you, but it doesn't work. 

Quickly your orgasm crashes over you, making you roll your eyes back and arch your back. He doesn't stop. 

His groans come out restrained, obviously trying to not make too much noise. You can’t seem to do the same. You moan loudly, maybe too loudly. Your sound mixes with your sobs. 

His fingers move even faster on your clit, pressing down deliciously. 

“That’s it, you love my dick don’t you baby? Gonna cum again, yeah?" He laughs at your pained expression. 

You can feel your second orgasm building quickly, your clit starting to become overly sensitive, he hasn't even come once and you are about to do it again. You feel immense emotional pain, why are you letting this happen? Why are you enjoying it? 

He carries on like this for a while, your second and then third orgasm comes crashing down on you and it feels like heaven. 

Finally, his thrusts start to get sloppy, his restraint failing him. He sheathes himself deep inside you before letting his load explode into your pussy and seeping into your womb. 

He sighs, pulling out with a wet pop. He looks smug, and you look destroyed, your resolve broken. He gives you a half smile and his eyes glint with dominance," What’s the matter? You came didn’t you? You must've enjoyed it, slut.” he laughs in your face before pulling his shorts and boxers up. 

You look at him with desolate eyes, “I didn’t… I never… “ 

His eyes crinkle as he smiles, “Your pussy loves my dick, don't even try to deny it. “

He leaves you breathless and alone, a mess and destroyed. 

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Got any fics where cross joins the bad sans? Preferably with a poly but I don't mind any other ships 💜

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

It's Just Casual… Right? by SXH1417 (Explicit, Incomplete)

"Do you need help?" Cross asked, nonplussed. The question itself was as jarring as the way it was said. Just deadpanned and maybe a little bored? He had the most blank expression on his face. Confused, Killer said, "Uh... What?" "Do you need help? With this?" Cross asked again, this time running a finger over the top of his pelvis. He didn't touch the straining magic, Killer still let out a whimper at the touch. "You... You really asking that?" (Additional tags in the beginning notes of each chapter.)

Haze by Askellie (Explicit, Complete)

That muddy, warm feeling in his bones? Cross is pretty sure it's just a fever. That throbbing, heavy feeling in his soul? Probably just Chara messing with him again. He's never felt this way before, but that doesn't mean it's anything to worry about. [Cross experiences heat for the first time. The rest of Nightmare's crew are as unhelpful as you would expect.]

It will take me a long time to recover, so please, hold my hand while I do by Abomination_X (Teen And Up, Complete)

Sometimes Cross still has trouble believing that this is real. He still has trouble believing that this isn't just a beautiful dream, that he won't wake up alone again, that he won't be surrounded by nothing but white and be left to suffer for all eternity. But everything is as real as it gets. He has a home, he has a pack who loves him and he's safe. Cross is safe. ——— Future edit: I wrote this when I was fourteen and it's not very good. I'm holding onto it for nostalgia reasons, but please don't expect much + don't let this be a judge of how I write now lmao. If you want a better written a/b/o fic I still have some :3

The Forgotten City by WhisperingEcho (Mature, Incomplete)

Then they appeared. Three figures, emerging from the shadows, their forms dark and wraithlike in the dim blue glow. At first, they seemed like nothing more than silhouettes. But as they stepped forward, more details emerged, each one more horrifying than the last. One of them - no, two of them - moved like animals, low to the ground, and one even crawling on all fours. Their bone-clad bodies shuddered, their movements unnatural, and Cross’ stomach turned. They were covered in a strange, greenish-black substance that glowed faintly, like algae festering on dead flesh. It clung to their forms in long tendrils, the sickly lichen-like growth looking as though it was the only thing keeping their decaying skin from falling off entirely. After his disownment, Cross finds himself wandering the world alone, until a skirmish with some wolves leaves him falling for some creatures leaving in an abandoned city inside a Hollowed Mountain. And they're just as loving as they are terrifying.

The Crime King by The_Borb_King_2020 (Not Rated, Complete)

"You truly are an idiot!" The spirit hissed the words out like poison as he glared at the wounded skeleton who was clinging to the balcony at night. The skeleton called Cross, only sighted quietly and watched the cops go by on the ground. _______________________ Cross knows that the city is a dangerous place, but he made the mistake of living there and found himself a job, a dangerous one that puts him at risk every time he does it. But what do you expect when you work for the crime king?

[honeyhotteoks]

hi,

i recently saw a tiktok about like fanfic. i’m not sure if you have seen the trend where it goes like “when x does something” vs. “when y does something” where x is okay and y is not.

basically it was about how reading fanfiction about characters is okay but when it is about like real people it is weird. and everyone in the comments was like “that’s so weird” and other comments that weren’t so nice. like some were dissing x reader inserts as well and i was baffled likeee…

i’ve read fanfiction for years and i have never seen so much discourse about it being wrong until kpop and i never understood it. i wanted to hear your thoughts on it as a fanfiction writer. (although i am one too, you’ve been writing for a lot longer than i have)

— 🪻 anon

oh great question and i’d absolutely love to answer it.

so for context i have been involved in fandom spaces since i was a kid, i was reading fanfiction probably as young as eight or nine (not necessarily smutty fic, ofc, but like my little fandom brain needed to know what fanficition.net had to say about spyro the dragon even before i understood what fandom or fan works were). for many, many years i read and wrote only fanfic based on already fictional works, and i genuinely thought rpf (real person fiction) was weird. i use to be one of those people that would have been in those comments saying it was weird like i had some kind of moral superiority about it.

i say all that so that everyone understands where i’m coming from when i answer this question, but just as a note up top…… this conversation has been around for YEARS. i think it’s gotten worse in recent years because we’re having a very strange moral backslide globally and conversations about sex and sexuality have gotten even more conservative and laden with shame. it’s no surprise to me we’re seeing it heavily in the kpop space that has a lot of young fans, passionate fans, and parasocially committed fans. but the tension between rpf and non-rpf has been around for a while for sure.

kpop fanfiction changed my mind about writing rpf, but that being said i still have some personal boundaries about rpf as a genre in general. kpop is an interesting fandom to be involved in for so many reasons, but one of the reasons that i think i started to break down some of those internalized reservations about rpf is because of how clearly manufactured the parasocial elements of kpop are. there’s no other fandom experience in the world (that i am aware of) where famous celebrities do not have romantic partners intentionally, actively treat fans like romantic partners, have apps to text those fans with a y/n feature, and do literal relationship fan service. the culture of kpop in general fosters this level of parasocial connection that as a writer, i perceive as almost a stage play. basically what i mean by that is that the nature of the industry pushes a romantic real-person storyline for fans to either self insert into or ship members, and not only do i think the industry is aware of fanfiction, i think it benefits from it.

when i write RPF about kpop boys….. i’m writing about their characters that we’re allowed to see. i know we speculate and we have fun etc., but at this point I consider ateez and yunho for me in particular more like writing muses to play around with romance novel scenarios. I could easily sub out yunho’s name in across stardust and swap it out of second person and have a totally agnostic novel about a girl and a celebrity.

that being said, rpf still sometimes makes me uncomfortable in other scenarios. i’m not saying that i’m right or wrong in this, but i just don’t feel as comfortable reading rpf of like…… idk tom holland and zendaya let’s say, where they are a cute public couple but the industries and the fan relationships are completely different. again, that’s purely a personal preference, but just an example of what feels good and doesn’t feel as good to me as a writer and reader. that is not at all to say those readers and writers and doing anything wrong, i don’t think they are and would defend them, but it’s where my personal preferences with rpf lie.

the other thing i’ll say is this….. a lot of people have a problem with rpf for a few big reasons, and i just want to dig into those below -

the real person didn’t consent to this - I understand that, but I think this is a bit of a flawed argument when it comes to fanfiction. While I do believe RPF should never, ever be shared with the person being written about because that to me crosses boundary lines, I think the consent conversation is faulty logic. Firstly, if a famous person (or any person) needed to consent to be fantasized about romantically, platonically, sexually, etc. we’re very quickly running into weird thought-crime territory and I have a distinct problem with this. People have fantasized about people forever, that’s how romance and sexuality works, and there’s truly nothing wrong with that. I mean that truly in all senses of the word too, I don’t care of people dream about marrying someone or getting railed by someone, it’s their internal thoughts and that’s not my business. The line cross comes when those fantasies get pushed into the famous person’s real life. I am not at all okay with sexually explicit signs at concerts, sending fanfic to idols, or pushing them to do more ‘shipping’ content. THAT is where the parasocial lines blur and to me that tells me the person engaging in that content is not mature enough to understand fiction vs. reality. Muddling that with the argument that famous people need to ‘consent’ to being sexualized or written about is an oversimplification and frankly, pretty puritanical. People crossing those lines, to me anyways, are proving that they do not see the idols as people, they see them as objects. Whereas a lot of writers and artists, myself included, see them as people presenting a character and I am happy to keep my delulu fun with those characters fully separate and divorced from any interactions i may ever have with them as a real people.

shipping is wrong! you can’t assume their sexuality! - I know I write m/f rpf mostly, but you’ve seen m/m pairings in my work and i also love to read a quality m/m fic from time to time. I don’t write shipping fic because it’s not really in my arsenal to do that, I prefer writing female POVs, but I have absolutely no problem with that as a genre. People do though, and often it’s coming from a deep place of internalized homophobia. What I would say to this is…. one, why are you assuming someone’s sexuality is straight as the default? Two, while some rpf shippers are “truthers” who take it a bit too far and think that idols are actually coupled up….. most of the time these are people just writing a gay relationship. In the same way that my fic could be swapped out into a romcom, so could theirs if you changed the names. It’s truly not that serious. If you’re the type of person who can’t separate the characters of woosan or matz from the actual people, I would argue again that this is a maturity problem, if not a more insidious morality problem rooted in homophobia.

shipping yourself with a famous person is gross and weird! you must be a crazy fan/sad loser! - Yeah, no. Once again, if you’re able to separate person and character, then all you’re doing is writing imaginary scenarios with a character. Self insert as a genre is more just the flexibility to write second person present tense to me rather than coming up with an entire rich character with a name every time - it lends itself to quick scenarios, flexible readership, and feels better than writing “I” all the time. While yeah, some fans take things too far as they always do, this is the exception and not the rule. As far as if that means we’re ‘crazy fans’ or ‘sad losers’…….. I think you’ll find the crazy fans are the ones acting without boundaries at barricade or at fansigns, not the quiet writers playing in lovely little scenarios. I’ve never once had a fancall with Yunho, and I’m not sure if I would even be comfortable doing so after writing him as a character after all this time. Comparing that to the rabid serial fancall problem where I see fans saying things like “you don’t understand, he knows me” ….. I think I’ll stick on the side of rpf fiction versus that line cross every time.

The last thing I’ll say is this……….. look around in fandoms, particularly those creating works in fandom spaces like art, fiction, etc. and you will find a sea of neurodivergent people. Anecdotally, you’ll also find so many people dealing with things like depression, anxiety, traumatic events or childhoods, etc. Of course that’s not a rule by any means, and this is entirely based on my personal experience in fandoms over the years, but what I think is important to emphasize here is that a lot of people who fall into those buckets explore their internal selves through character and through creative expression. I think it’s important as people to stop labeling people as “weird” when they are doing something different to you, and start leading with empathy and curiosity.

I could talk for hours about unpacking trauma through the romance genre, or exploring sexuality in safe spaces through shipping, or even just learning how to write using characters in existing spaces……. but that’s probably best for another post if people are interested. At the end of the day, my take on RPF is that it’s no different to other forms of fanfiction, especially within a space as parasocial and crafted as kpop. People are free to disagree with me, just as they are free to scroll and not engage with my content, but to me there’s nothing inherently ‘wrong’ or shameful about it. And in my experience, people who need to shame others for their preferences in fandom often have a lot of internal shame they’ve yet to unpack.

[winchesterride]

Why suddenly so many people need to point that CANONICALLY Dean wouldn’t bottom Sam because he is CANONICALLY homophonic, and CANONICALLY needs control.

Like, wtf?

Canonically he never touched Sam or any man

Canonically he's not afraid of soft sex or let girls guide even he being the top. Canonically he has said he thinks about girls in masks hitting him. Plus people who are controlling in life can even be SUBS and yes, bottom. And being homophonic lowers the chances of being the bottom but it doesn't excludes it (cause there are a lot of homophonic gay guys fucking out there and when we talk about people nothing is 100%)

But honestly who cares?

Why are we arguing over who's top and whos bottom? That's such an stupid argue. We wincesties need to stay together and strong, not fight over the kind of sex the boys have in the fics

Just read the one with the position you like, follow the people that share this kind of content and let's all be happy.

[nevertheless-moving]

Stormlight AU #3 (Kalarin Rumors): Chapter 7 Part 2

Chapter One Premise Outlined Here

"Captain? Can we speak for a moment?"

"Of course," Captain Kaladin said, not looking up from the indecipherable chart of messy glyphs, laid atop a pile of those like it. “Just let me finish — Sigzil what about seventeenth—” Teft sighed, leaning against the door and idly picking at his fingers. A few minutes later the two managed to finish their conversation. The worldsinger gave Teft a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder as he passed by on the way out.

Teft felt he deserved more than that for what he was about to do.

He stepped into the Captain's private room, which functioned more like an office for how often he actually slept, closing the door behind him.

Best to get it over with. Teft squared his shoulders.

"I was hoping to talk to you about... whatever's going on with you and Prince Renarin." 

Kaladin blew out a heavy breath, leaning back against the desk. To his credit, he didn’t look embarrassed, so much as resigned. "Alright. Yes, we guessed that figured that you all had... noticed something."

"You could say that," Teft said carefully. Hard not to notice when you come back from private ‘training’ wearing each others shirts. Idiots.

The captain scrubbed a hand across his face. "Give me until tonight, alright? I'm pretty sure Renarin is about ready to talk openly with everyone."

"Uh," Teft said, face screwing up, a spark of panic rising from beneath the awkwardness. "Storms lad, I wasn't suggesting you make an announcement… we're just worried about the lighteyes noticing something. Prince Adolin basically walked in on the two of you, doing..." he coughed into his hand. "Whatever you were doing."

"I appreciate your concern," Kaladin said. "Truly, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for the tremendous loyalty you've all shown, covering for us without asking questions. Not to mention how much of an effort you've made to include him in the crew." 

"He's... a decent kid. For a lighteyes," Teft said begrudgingly. "And, well. We've all noticed you've been, uh. Sleeping better. Which...storms he could be a lot more annoying and we'd probably still teach him cards, for your sake, you have to know that."

"He really is a good person," Kaladin said, looking slightly defensive.

"Of course," Teft agreed quickly.

"And he's hardly a kid. He’s barely a few months younger than me."

"You're a decent kid, too," he said, smoothing his expression with long practice. Storms really? I knew you were young but... the prince was nineteen, wasn't he? Blood of my fathers, I’ve been following a teenager. Well. At least this makes a bit more sense now, Almighty help us all.

"I'll go check with Renarin, but do you think we might be able to get the men to meet inside tonight, after dinner shifts are over? I'd rather not risk being overheard by any of the other crews, and it would be easiest if we could talk with everyone off duty all at the same time.” Kaladin scratched his chin, looking down at the pages. “Actually, if we make a few switches, if Lopen’s cousins and the old guard agree…could probably get most of the original bridge off for the evening."

"Jezrian's crown,” he whispered. “So it's… so it’s serious then?" Of course it was. When did you do anything not seriously. Stormfather, what were they going to announce? It’s been less than two weeks!

"You could say that." 

Teft looked to the sky. Oh, this was going to end in desolation. But the two were young, and had more determination than sense. "Nothing’s ever simple with you, is it lad?" 

Kaladin sighed, then stood, patting Teft on the shoulder as he walked outside.

They found Renarin polishing leathers with Mart and Bisig, all three listening to Lopen tell some story with grand gestures and whole body movements. 

The prince perked up like an axehound pup when the Captain approached. Storms. A lighteyes who acted like a loyal servant, and a darkeyes who acted like a caring lord. Maybe they deserved each other.

The two stepped away, conferring with bowed heads. Mart and Bissig exchanged amused expressions, while Lopen stared, leaning their direction with utter shamelessness.

The brightlord blanched, hands fumbling for his box. Kaladin put a hand on his arm, smiling softly and whispering something. 

Teft turned away, not wanting to see anymore. Damnation, he needed a drink. Kaladin Stormblessed could probably have had any darkeyes he wanted in all of the camps. Nales scar, he probably could have had a fair number of the tenners, maybe even a niner. But no. The ambitious moron had to reach for a third dahn, son of a highprince. Why didn't he just storming try and seduce the king and be done with it?

No. I’m being unfair. Teft groaned, kicking a rock with his nice, black leather boots. Boots he wouldn't have had if it weren't for the captain.

Kaladin was a good man. Maybe some would accuse him of social climbing, but anyone who knew him knew how ridiculous the idea was of him using someone like that. The two morons were in love, or, more likely, having good enough sex that they had convinced themselves it was love.

They should have been more insistent about dragging Kaladin to a brothel. The man just hadn’t seemed interested. In any of it! Not that he had been listening, when they were all living in Sadeas bridgeyard, without the nice privacy shields even Kholin infantryman got but he had never even heard the Captain —

"Teft?" 

He jumped, turning to face the captain guiltily.

The man gave him a slightly curious expression, but didn't ask. 

"Renarin's ready. We'll talk to everyone tonight — those who aren't on evening guard anyway."

"I'll tell the men,” Teft said, resigned. “Some will kick up a fuss about not going out, but they’ll all want to hear."

Kaladin nodded once, then looked past Teft, noticing a sergeant from bridge twelve who was hovering nearby. He walked over to deal with one of his ten ten impossible responsibilities. 

An announcement. Screw a drink, he would deserve something stronger than that after tonight. All he wanted was for the lads to be a bit more discreet. And they had to go and decide to make an announcement. 

They couldn't be planning on getting married, could they? Bad enough he strongly suspected they’d already traded soldier's oaths. It had been what — jez's balls, six days, seven? And it was insane besides, the prince's rank — Almighty's tenth name, what was the prince going to do, resign his position to be with his lover? Disinherit himself? Could he do that? 

…Highprince Dalinar might actually kill the captain. He might kill all of them, while he was at it.

Teft sighed, then went on his own way, spreading the word like a death sentence.

[konmics-n-stuff]

I really resent the Young Justice tv show for … a lot of things. TBH.

[alchemiclee]

I think doing shipping through and aroace lens makes things complicated but also interesting. I think one reason I don't enjoy straight ships as much is because it's very rare for people write/talk about them with a queerplatonic dynamic. straight romance is so "normalized" in society, it's hard to get any other dynamic out of those ships from other people in conversation or writing. it's mostly always romantic. (especially when "guys and girls can't be *just* friends" is extremely common and has ruined mamy of my own friendships) but I enjoy a handful of a straight ship with that dynamic. it's just way more rare to see talked about than gay ones from my observation. anyway point is, more queerplatonic type ships and stuff please! those aren't explored enough!

[set-wingedwarrior]

The way you must justify your lesbian ship even when the characters have canonically a crush on each other (and it's the cutest thing ever) is insane.

"why do you like it, the crush is just escapism on character x's part, I am genuinely confused and want to know why any of you think they should be endgame! Anyway, look at my more straight ships for them that defenitely make more sense character-wise despite them clearly being just friends. I am not an homophobe." Shut the fuck up.

[windupaidoneus]

hmm lots of taking social media too seriously lately. has everyone been offline enough. not me i live here but like those of u who have better shit to worry about

[the-kipsabian]

.

[gravegoer]

MORE SEVIKA X SIREN I BEG

I hear your call [P2] ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ

HALF OF MY INBOX IS SIREN READER !! dw, i got you guys. ( also i got a lot of love in my inbox. !! thank you so much for the support. youre so sweet , im looking at 🍃 anon ily ) summary: sevika saves your scales.

masterlist , part 1 2.1k words part 3

The night after you met Sevika, you followed her ship, even throughout the darkness. The celebratory crew could be heard on the deck, along with the clanking of glasses and music.

Although this wasn't what you were interested in, you were interested in a certain captain. You assumed she didn't bother with the celebration and got bored swimming alongside the ship.

Eventually, it had come to a stop in the late night, now sitting in the dock of a well-populated island. You eyed the people that stepped off, and your gaze landed on Sevika.

She was hard to miss, her large stature and intricate outfit stood out amongst the crew, ultimately declaring herself captain. There was a sort of swagger in her walk, perhaps from booze or maybe exaustion.

Whatever the case, you were interested.

You couldn't get too close to land, deciding to lurk around the harbor instead. You ducked under the water upon hearing any movement or voices. Being this close to population was no place for a siren, especially such as yourself.

Any fisherman or pirate alike would take take you up and pawn you for a pretty price. So you heeded in your movements. Luckily, you were a skilled enough swimmer that you made little to no sound whilst in the water, barely leaving behind a ripple.

The sun was just now rising, and you assumed Sevika would be looking for a place to stay the night. There was no way you could wait around that long for her to come back. But that doesn't mean you didn't want to.

To your delight, a group of men swarmed to talk on a dock near you, and their conversation was full of exactly what you wanted to hear.

Sevika.

They were pirates looking for a crew, and from the looks of them, quite experienced pirates.

"She's headed to Shank's motel. Shall we give her a visit?"

"This late at night, man. You've got to be spewin' some blige. She'd flog you just at sight."

"Aye. Migh' as well wait till' morn' "

You grew closer to their spot, itching to hear more. Your head nearly bumped against the old wood due to your closeness.

Suddenly, a hand was in your hair, but unlike Sevika's, it was clammy and gross.

You screeched at the intrusion, being pulled out of the water.

A fourth man.

How could you let your guard down so easily?

"Now, what's a stupid lass like you doin' so far out at bay."

You crained your head up to be met with a severely shredded bald man. You clawed at the hand on your scalp and thrashed. The sting threatened to bring tears to your eyes, and you opened your mouth for a song.

The knowing man slammed your face down onto the wood, stopping you in your tracks.

"Fuck. This one be a siren, but the harder the catch, the more the prize is what I say."

Another voice came from your left.

"Knock 'er out, and I'll grab a net."

A blunt thwack was heard before your vision went dark.

..

Sevika had tied her boat to a post before leaving her crew to find a place to eat, preferably not a bar where she knew the rest of her men were headed. Having enough to drink, she sat at a stand selling calaloo and threw a few dabloons on the counter silently, waiting for her meal.

Her mind wasn't on anything except for you. The ruler of the Seven Seas was enamored with a mer-person.

How fitting.

She thought about the way your eyes sparkled when she told you stories, looking at her like no other. How your cold hands were so gentle when you touched her. Your soft lips against hers.

I mean, how much deeper could she fall.

Having been so engrossed in thought, she barely noticed the whispers around her. Barely. She, of course, was the talk of the town.

She intimidated people just by taking a seat next to them, so casual yet making everyone at the stand turn to glance at her. It wasn't often that Sevika bothered with mundane tasks such as eating anywhere but a bar, and nobody really saw her face anywhere except for wanted posters.

Although it was a picaroon town, and there was no way anyone there would bother to turn her in or snitch, she still pushed her plate away and got up to fend off the prying eyes. (Picaroon means pirate)

Her buckled boots thudded against the dirt road, now on the way to the nearest inn. She was almost desperate for a nights sleep without rocking on the mad waters.

Upon entering, a large man stomped past her, eager to get somewhere, she was just about to grab him and slam him into the nearest counter before her attention was interrupted.

"Them chowder-headed fools caught themselves a real jem, aye?"

"Heard theys' puttin' 'er up for auction"

That was never a pretty thing to hear. It either meant low-life pirates snagged themselves an expensive treasure, or worse, a living treasure. But it wasn't rare that a fisher or pirate just so happened to find a large, human-like fish in their net and put her on the market, so Sevika paid it no mind.

She did linger on the fact that it might be the one person on her mind at the moment but quickly shook away those thoughts. You were smart, quick. Theres no way any man would have you that easily.

When she approached the counter for a key, the shop-keep laughed, "What? You want a room? I think you ought to pay the stands a visit, its the first auction in a week."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at his words, her head dipping into her previous thoughts again.

I guess it wouldn't hurt to make sure.

So she drug her tired and heavy legs right back across town for the sliver of a chance that it might be you.

..

You awoke with a harsh throbbing in your head, feeling cold and dried up. Through blurry vision, you could make out the steel bars, closing you in. And a loud voice,

"Another bid for 300 dabloons !"

Fuck. It's what you've been dreading all your life. You got caught due to your lack of awareness and clumsiness. Inwardly cursing at yourself, you grabbed at the bars and shook violently.

"Look, she's awake. How do we feel about upping the price now that we can see her pretty eyes."

The man stuck his fingers in your enclosure and tilted your chin up. At that moment, you became aware of the metallic muzzle on your face, keeping your jaw in place. You glared up at him, knowing you'd bite him if you could.

He pulled away when you jerked your head forward, as if making the motion to bite him. He laughed loudly, and another bid came from the crowd.

"500!"

The men yelled and whooped at that. You thunked your head against the bars, the loudness ringing in your ears. You can't believe you got yourself in this mess for a pirate.

It was just hollering and laughing for a while before the man beside you spoke,

"500, Aye? Going once.. going twice.."

"A thousand."

A heavy female voice stood out amongst the rest, sounding angry and tired. Your eyes darted around, looking for the source of the voice, but another shrill voice spoke up.

"1000? Is this woman kidding? 1500."

The men's laughs roared in again, smacking the mans back and slinging booze. A tall figure stepped out of the shadow, cigarillo in hand, and spoke, "Double it."

All went quiet as they eyed Sevika, her arm crossed over her chest as she brought a mechanical hand to her lips to take a drag. She blew the smoke from the side of her mouth, making a taller male cough.

Your eyes widened, and fingers gripped the bars steadier. When you made eyecontact, you could have sworn her eyes went soft for a moment before she looked to your captor.

"Well.. any final bids..?"

He spoke seemingly frightened and pleased with himself all in one moment.

Nobody spoke against Sevika, as a captian never had a bounty over their head for a reason. And her bounty was hefty.

There were no protests as she pushed her way through the crowd, seemingly more violent than usual. She put her cigar out on someone's forehead, the small tiss, standing out against silence.

Her boots clunked as she ascended the stairs and plopped three brown bags atop your cage. You looked up at her, but she wasn't looking back. Her metal hand was grabbing the key from the mans hand and pushing him backward in one motion.

He stumbled, but you looked away to eye Sevikas human hand swiftly unlocking the cage. She held her hand out to you, dark hair shadowed her eyes, and hid her expression from you.

She was who you were here for.

You hesitantly grabbed her calloused hand, and immediately, she lifted you into her arms. Now, looking into the crowd, her menacing expression was highlighted by the dim torches that surround the stands. Her cape was draped over your tail and bare torso, shielding you from the cold, and more importantly the people.

As she was stepping down the stairs, she saw your muzzled mouth, and her expression got a tinge darker. No words needed to be spoken as she balanced you with her human arm and knee, tearing the straps of the muzzle off with a sharp finger.

It was almost instinct to hum a siren song, but before your vocal chords could start, you saw her expression and buried your face in her sturdy torso. It was the look of warning, a warning that you obeyed.

Pirates gawked at the sight of her carrying you past the crowd of people. Nobody dared to reach out and touch you. Some people didn't even dare to look at you. You kept your gaze on Sevika's clenched jaw and torn expression. The angles of her face were more prominent at this angle, you would blush at the sight but your nervousness didn't allow it.

Her grip on your tail was firm, yet gentle, human arm cradling your torso without complaining about the coldness. You weren't one to be drawn to the warmth of a human, but found yourself pressed closer against her body. You now shut your eyes to rid of the feeling of stares and judgement.

As she carried you down the dirt road back to the inn, she spoke in a frustrated tone, "You are the stupidest fish ive ever met."

"And you're the sappiest pirate ive ever met."

..

When Sevika stepped into the inn with you in her arms the keep gawked at you. You were cradled like a baby, weightless in her hold. She kept a stern gaze as he passed her the keys with a room number attached "56".

The people that sat in the inn waiting room averted their eyes, shrinking under Sevika's cold grey eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed, making you want to reach up and rub the wrinkle between them.

She walked up old rickety stairs, almost bending under your combined weight and turned left down the hall to the room. It was surprisingly quiet, and you were able to hear the woman's ragged breaths. Sevika was obviously worn out and tired from her day, and still came to your rescue.

How heroic.

She effortlessly shifted you to one arm, making sure your head was steady against her shoulder and creaked open the wooden door. Your tail barely brushed against the ground, her height compensating for the length.

"I need—," you spoke, before she cut you off with a grunt.

"Water. I know."

Opening the door to the bathroom, she sighed at the size. It was almost too small to fit her large frame and your long tail.

Dropping you into the tub gently, she turned the knob for cold water. "Want me to sprinkle in salt?"

You genuinely couldn't tell if she was joking, "No, no it's okay," You laughed, humming at the feeling of water on your tail.

"Why did you let yourself get caught," Sevika said, more as a statement than a question.

"I wanted to find you.. and I succeeded.. mission accomplished?"

She shook her head and bent down to accommodate for the space between you. She put a warm hand to your cheek, eyes soft and almost concerned, "Don't go looking for me like that again, danger follows me closely."

You giggled at her seriousness, despite being roughed around and almost being sold as fish food (or worse) you felt somewhat at ease. The woman at your side brought you a strange feeling of comfort, comfort that the sea never brought you.

"I guess ill just have to follow you closer."

i already have ideas for part three.... hehehehehe

again, thank you for the asks they are sweet ! and comment if you want to be on the taglist for part 3 , i do have some other works in my drafts but im saving them for when i finish this series :) but asks are open !!!

@misswynters @haruko--bby @thesecondhandwoman @theirlaliengirl

[vaguely-concerned]

the more I play the more I think lucanis basically knows it's illario who betrayed him right from the beginning (he's had a year in the ossuary to think. not that many people knew where he was going. when you ask him 'did Illario know you'd be on that ship' his only answer is the hardest flattest 'yes' you ever heard). so it's not so much about figuring out who the traitor is (because that's ludicrous. we all know. immediately. they didn't really bother to hide it lmao) as about methodically closing off every single avenue of denial lucanis has clung to that whole time with as much or little gentleness as you might prefer until he has no choice but to admit it. because the moment he has to admit it, he'll have to do something -- feel something -- about it. and that's such a catastrophic event in lucanis' inner landscape (he has had TWO people in this whole entire world up until now and will do anything to hold on to them with a heartbreaking child-like desperation, even at and especially through the detriment of his own self) that he'd rather just. not. what if we quite simply. didn't. what if we just stayed here in the emptiness where we can both pretend you didn't hurt me in a way I should never forgive. I have so much practice in that with caterina already it's always worked out great for everyone so far. (press x to fucking doubt but that's trauma logic for you lol)

after everything illario did, so much of the storm of lucanis' emotions around it is 'what the FUCK did you get yourself tangled up in this time and how do I get you out of this mess safely'. what's worse: the fact that your brother murdered you, or that he put himself in horrible danger doing so and thus exposed you to the risk of losing him forever. lucanis' heart certainly has an opinion here and it's fucking unhinged (affectionate)

the themes of dissociation in lucanis' character in general makes me feel nuts. allllll these contradictory messy things he needs to cut off from each other because they can't coexist or be easily reconciled inside him. but all remain stubbornly true separately anyway and will have their due one day. love and resentment. tenderness and fear and rage. terror and longing. love and freedom don't coexist. the burned out golden child anthem is playing in the background. he was always caterina's favourite and he has to keep striving to deserve that dubious honour with every breath he takes and then, presumably, mercifully, some day he will die and be excused and can rest. and until now he's suppressed all the -- natural, healthy, protective! -- negative feelings that threaten the few attachment relationships he actually has, at the cost of ever actually having his needs for connection and safety met and leaving his core self imprisoned and compromised. and spite goes 'what. no. that's dumb fuck that' (*spite voice* I do not understand that and even if I did I would not respect it) and does not allow him to fall back into that, which I think is what saves his life, ultimately. it took being possessed by a demon for lucanis to even contemplate telling anyone he loves 'no' in any way, but hey. whatever gets you there right lol

lucanis is dealing with the freeze response allll the way down baby. and he was even before the ossuary, that just turbo powered it and brought it to a breaking point way before it could happen naturally. but something was going to break eventually no matter what, and I'm just glad that in the end, through the power of friendship and also pure spite, it doesn't have to be him

[quarterlifekitty]

Can we pretty please have König with the secret baby trope?

/)/)

( . .)

( づ♡

I offer a little bunny as a bribe [I really hope it works and doesn’t end up misshapen lol]

Bunny looks good to me…. I accept

So in this, I imagine that you were something of a friends with benefits to him. While it wasn’t a sugaring situation, he did insist upon treating you to a nice dinner whenever you met up. When he’d come home on leave, he’d reach out, you’d meet up and fuck, and eventually he’d ship back out and the cycle repeated.

Truthfully, he’d been planning on trying to make things less casual for a long time. He’s not the kind of person who can fuck someone repeatedly and not fall in love, as much as he tried to be when this began. He decided that on his next leave, he would tell you.

He didn’t expect his next leave to be as far away as it turned out to be. While he is within his rights as a mercenary to decline extending his time on the job, he often doesn’t. He’s a workaholic and one of the small number of people at KorTac with no family to speak of, so he often takes on the burden staying on longer when needed. The time gets away from him. He’s gone longer than a year.

He comes back, anxious about where he stands with you. What you had hadn’t exactly been exclusive, and it’s hard to believe that you wouldn’t have been snapped up in that time away. To him, there can be no shortage of other men in your life that are crazy about you.

He contacts you. You tell him that you’re not really in a position to meet up with him, and you don’t really know if you ever will be again, honestly. His hands are sweating and his fingers fuck up on the keyboard all the time, so he just decides to call. Ask you what he’s done, if there’s someone else, if you know that he’s madly in love—

Not thirty seconds into the phone call, just barely past the niceties and pleasant greetings, when all of those questions are on the tip of his tongue— he hears crying. A baby crying. You tell him hurriedly that you’ll have to call him back. He decides he just can’t wait that long. He goes to your place.

You answer the door with a baby in a sling around you, tucked up to your chest, markedly more calm than it had been over the phone. Red hair. Your expression is a little tightened, like you hadn’t really wanted to see him at the door.

“As you can see, I’m not really able to attend a dick appointment right now.”

Fuck, is that what it was? You thought he just wanted sex?

A Quick look at your apartment tells him there isn’t anyone else. No men’s shoes by the door. Photos on the wall are just you and your friends— no partner in sight. It’s also kind of a mess. If there was a man in your life, he deserved to have his head beat in for leaving you to deal with all of this alone all day.

Then comes the quick mental math.

“That’s not what I want. Let me come in, schatz. Let me talk to you.”

It breaks his heart to see how reticent you are to let him in. It’s part and parcel with how tired you look.

“Look, if you’re wondering— yes, he’s yours, biologically.” Well, that clarification at the end stings a little. “But it was my choice to keep him, so I don’t expect anything from you. If this feels like an obligation to you, I’d prefer if we just cut things off here.”

The words that follow spill from his mouth uncontrollably.

“I don’t just want him— I want you. I want the both of you. I want it to be us,” he nearly babbles, hoping what he says is even halfway coherent.

“You’re all I think of when I’m away. I cannot lie and say I’d imagined the… the order of events would be this way. But I’d thought of it— with you. Please let me in, and… and let me meet him properly, ja?”

There are tears in his eyes when his son holding his finger for the first time, not ten minutes later.

[dirtyvulture]

BBB

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader*

18+ only read at your own risk

Word count: 3248

Requested by anon: Hi i love your work..you don't have to do this request if you don't want.. i was kind of was wondering since we haven't heard from Sergeant Nat and reader. If we could hear from them? I was thinking since Nat is always the confident reassured one in that universe like maybe something happens where shes not sure where she stand with reader? Like jealous or maybe reader lets one of her military friends borrow her laptop and they use it to watch porn...and nat finds it and thinks its reader. And nat kind of loses her mind in a way that we havent seen. (Not like crazy but for the first time shes like am i enough). And reader is high key oblivious bc she worships nat. Some communication to sort out and then smutty times. Only if you want. If not i look forward to whatever you post yay. 

AN: *Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Thanks for the idea, anon! This was a lot of fun to write. :)

This is Part 5 in my Sergeant Beef series. Read the first one here.

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Sam asks, poking his head into your room. 

“Why?” You don’t even look at him, focused on you video game on the tiny television mounted to your wall.

“I dropped mine in the lake, so I had to buy a new one but it won’t get shipped off until later this week,” Sam explains. 

“Okay,” you say, hardly listening to him as you race your little car across the screen to bump the giant soccer ball towards the goal. “It’s in my room on the–”

“I know where it is. Thanks.” Sam whisks in and helps himself. 

“Close the door on your way out!” you call, just in time to hear the door slam behind him. Turning your whole focus back to your game, your fingers mash the buttons to a triumphant win.

***********************************************************************

A few days later, Natasha is over at your apartment. While the two of you had discussed a thousand times moving in together, you had always stalled or walked around the subject. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was because you were nervous what the public’s perception would be of your relationship, or if you preferred your own private space too much to give it up. Ever since the deployment, you had been more likely to retreat and hide away (even from Natasha) when you were upset or moody. She wondered if it was a side effect of your PTSD, but you never seemed ready for that conversation so she left it alone.

For dinner, you grilled some steaks (setting off the smoke detector in your apartment) while Natasha made a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. Afterwards, you went to take a shower while Natashas lounged around and found a movie on Netflix for the two of you to watch. She sits on the couch, opening your laptop and finding the web browser. She looks up Netflix and then browses through the recommendations on your home page, but none of them pique her interest.

She goes onto Google to search what other people are recommending and wades through a sea of titles and descriptions to find one. Swapping back and forth between tabs, she finds a website with a host of titles and flips back and forth until she finds a movie that is both on the list and currently on Netflix. But in the process, she loses track of the tab and accidentally closes it, silently cursing to herself, before going to check the history to find it again.

But what she finds in the history is not what she had been looking for.

Natasha feels almost scandalized when she sees the words “big busty blondes” in your search history, followed by a list of pornsites. While she knew you watched such videos in her absence, she didn’t know what genre you were into, and now a deep sinking feeling of insecurity fills her. She was not blonde, nor was she particularly busty after the years of hard workouts had shrank some of her assets a little. You always told her she had the perfect body, but now she wasn’t quite sure if she should believe you.

“Nat? Did you pick a movie?” You poke your head out of the bathroom. You’re not wearing a shirt and your wet hair is dripping water down your chest, emphasizing the lines of your muscles. Natasha can see the bullet scar on your ribs from the deployment that almost ended your life. But you walked away with every member of your team alive, and your tale of bravery had become something of a living legend in the community. 

She knows you could have any woman you wanted. She had seen the way the recruits eyed you and how bold the other brass were with you. Before your promotion to sergeant, you were often overlooked and completely ignored. Natasha, perhaps a little selfishly, always considered herself the catch in your relationship: she was one of a handful of female sergeants with outstanding credentials, and looked great in and out of a uniform. But maybe she thought too highly of herself. You had developed into a very competent sergeant, were extremely good-looking, and had the most lovable personality anyone could ask for.

What if you didn’t want her anymore? What if you wanted someone younger, or someone you could start a family with? Natasha hadn’t yet disclosed to you her inability to have children, but if the subject ever came up, she knew you’d need no other excuse to walk away.

“Nat? Did you pick out a movie?” you ask again.

“Yes,” Natasha says. “We can watch Trolls.”

“Okay. That sounds fun.”  

You come out in a sweatshirt with matching gray sweatpants and join Natasha on the couch. Instinctively, you put your arm around her shoulder and she snuggles against you, letting you rest your head against hers.

You seem to enjoy the goofy children’s movie, laughing out loud at the jokes and cheering when the main characters hug by the end. But Natasha can’t focus for a second, still thinking about the search history on your laptop. She didn’t even know if it was something she should bring up, but it was already eating her alive to think that she wasn’t good enough for you.

Natasha didn’t know if she would be able to survive without you. She would have to do everything she could to keep you by her side.

***********************************************************************

“Give me a sec,” Natasha calls, hurriedly slipping her boots on. She checks herself in the mirror one final time before opening her apartment door to see you.

“Hi, Nat–oh.” Your expression goes flat.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, her stomach twisting in knots. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“You dyed your hair,” you say, blinking at the short blonde hair she was now sporting.

“You don’t like it?” she asks, her worry growing by the second. She had dropped a significant sum at the salon on base to cut and dye her hair. Perhaps this had been a severe overreaction on her part. 

“Oh. No, um, it looks very nice,” you stutter. 

Natasha is not convinced in the slightest. Her face flushes red and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying in frustration. “That’s okay,” she mutters more to herself than you. “Where are we going again?” she asks, even though she knows every detail of the outing she had planned with you.

“The gym first, then we can get lunch and go grab groceries,” you list off, seemingly oblivious to her awkwardness. 

“Yes, that’s right. Okay, let’s go,” she replies sullenly.

***********************************************************************

Natasha isn’t sure what else she can do to hold your attention after the hair dying incident. She tries to be extra doting with you, but all of her efforts seem to go completely unnoticed. You only say “thank you” once when she gets you your favorite chocolate bar from the commissary. The next time the two of you are in bed together, Natasha feels like she has to guide you through all the motions and you fuck her with a concerningly low level of enthusiasm. Natasha is convinced you’ve found someone else and just the thought of losing you makes her sick. 

She’s nearly sent over the edge when she finally gets a text from you:

From Y/N: Can you come over tonight? I want to talk

Natasha feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her feet. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her stomach starts to hurt like she had a bad meal. What if she just didn’t go to see you? Would you really still break up with her over text?

Her body seems to have a mind of her own as she responds:

To Y/N: Ok

***********************************************************************

“Thanks for coming over,” you say, welcoming Natasha into your apartment. She steps in guardedly, wondering if you’re hiding your new girlfriend under the couch. Or maybe she’s already in your bed. She shuffles down the hallway to subtly peer into your bedroom, which is empty.

“What did you want to talk about?” Natasha isn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. Besides, she doesn’t want to draw this out any longer than it needs to be.

“Oh. Um…” You sound caught off guard. “Well, I was thinking that–”

“You want to break up with me.” Natasha can’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. She wipes them away, angry at herself for showing such weakness already.

“What? What makes you think that?” Your shock is so genuine, Natasha almost wants to believe you.

Natasha hides her face behind her hand. “I saw it on your laptop last week. The kind of porn you were watching–”

“Porn? I use incognito,” you say. “Unless that doesn’t actually hide things…” you add in a mumble.

“Your search history said you looked up…” Natasha takes a breath. “‘Big busty blondes,’” she repeats, hating the way the words sound off her tongue.

“What?” You sound confused now. “That’s…I don’t watch that kind of stuff. Wait, is that why you dyed your hair blonde?”

“No,” Natasha lies. “But I saw it on your laptop!” she insists, hastily changing the subject.

You pause for a moment, then start shaking your head with a chuckle. “I’m gonna rip him a new one,” you mutter. Then louder, you explain, “Sam borrowed my laptop last week because his was broken. I’m guessing he used it to…you know…” Your expression turns into one of disgust, and Natasha matches it. 

“Oh. So, you’re not into big busty blondes?” Natasha is embarrassingly desperate for clarification.

“No, I’m not.” You take a step towards her and hold out your hands. “But I do have a thing for hot redheads who could totally kick my butt.”

“I know,” Natasha says, taking your hands and leaning up to kiss you. Her lips lift into a smile when you return her kiss with more passion than you had all week, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her flush against you. You dig your fingers into her thighs, lightly rolling your hips, and when she feels your hard bulge against her stomach and all of her doubts are cast away immediately. Her face burns in shame when she realizes how quickly she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. You weren’t going anywhere. You were totally in love with her and wanted no one else.

“Wait, so what did you want to talk about?” Natasha asks, trying to ignore the arousal building in her core as you hump her.

“Oh! Um…” Your face reddens, as if you’re so turned on yourself you forgot why you asked her to come. “Uh…I wanted to ask if…you would like to move in with me? Or if I could move into your apartment? Or we could find a new place together…”

Natasha feels like she’s gotten whiplash from the subject change. She had come here thinking you were breaking up with her, but instead you actually wanted to move in with her? Just when she had thought it was never going to happen.

“Why the change?” she asks.

You shrug your massive shoulders. “We spend so much time together as it is. And I was mostly nervous because you know I have those night terrors a lot, but…” You sigh. “I realized I get them a lot less when I wake up next to you.” Natasha wants to melt in your arms. “And it would be really nice if I got to wake up next to you every day. And eat every meal with you. And–”

Natasha cuts you off with a hard kiss. “Yes,” she pants, groping for the tie on your sweatpants and pulling them down. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

“Nat,” you whine when she grabs your cock. She feels it throb in her hand and her arousal spikes. As high as her own sex drive was, there was little else that turned Natasha on more than to see how excited you were for her. She pushes you towards the bedroom and you understand without needing words, obediently sitting down on your bed and pulling you on top of her. You grunt when her weight lands on your thighs and Natasha immediately props herself on her knees; sometimes she forgets about the injury on your right thigh that still causes you pain sometimes.       

“Sorry baby,” she whispers while leaning in to kiss your cheek. It had been a long and sometimes frustrating journey to get back to the same level of intimacy the two of you shared after the deployment ambush and your recovery. The medicines you were on had drastically affected your mood (and performance) and there were still some positions you could no longer do because of the strain it put on your body. But Natasha had been patient and gentle with you, even when all she wanted to do was fuck you senseless. Over time your strength and stamina had come back, and Natasha was thrilled you could still please her in bed. 

She leans back and takes her shirt off while you mirror her. You’re almost back to your weight as before the deployment, but the physical therapy has encouraged you to work out even harder, so you are more muscular and toned than before. Natasha eyes your body hungrily, her hand reaching out to trace the scar on your ribs. While she hates the memory attached to your scar, she can appreciate how much more badass it makes you look.

“Nat,” you say, and she breaks out of her thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” She pushes you to lie on your back, rolling her clothed lower body against yours. “Everything is very okay.” Her hands skate across your warm skin, squeezing your biceps before resting on your chest, balancing herself as she rocks back and forth. Even though you’re still wearing boxers, Natasha can feel the hardness of your dick pressing against her butt.

“All ready for me?” she hums, digging her nails lightly into your chest.

“Always,” you respond, rolling your hips to match her rhythm. 

“Hmm.” Natasha contemplates how she wants you today. You almost never call the shots in bed, but you have no problem with Natasha taking control most of the time. She likes how submissive you are to her and your willingness to please her even at your own expense. But she isn’t feeling selfish today and wants you to relax and enjoy too. 

Her body seems to have a mind of its own as she humps along your abs, eventually pushing her panties to the side so you can feel her heat on your stomach. 

“Nat,” you whine, gripping onto her waist to guide her movements. 

“Just let me ride you,” she says, lifting off of you for a moment to remove her panties completely, and the two of you moan when she settles back on you. You flex your abs until Natasha swears she could grate cheese on them. She angles her hips back and widens her legs so she can drag her pussy along the ridges of your abs, smearing her wetness everywhere. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” she moans.

“So do you,” you say, your hands tightening around her waist. 

Natasha moves her hips faster, sliding back until she can feel your cock practically poking a hole through your boxers. She’s just warming herself (and you) up and doesn’t want to rush to the main event. But as she hears your whines and feels the tension in your body, all she wants is for you to flip her over and fuck her until she can’t walk.  

“Can you do exactly what I ask you to?” Natasha pants, the building arousal in her stomach almost painful now.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Sergeant. Whatever you want.”

The use of Natasha’s title makes her pussy clench around nothing. Her body aches for you and she’s done playing around.

“Good. I want you to get on your knees and fuck me,” she demands, abruptly climbing off of you and presenting her backside to you. You scramble to obey, wasting no time lining up your cock with her soaking pussy and pushing in eagerly. Natasha inhales sharply when your length stretches her out, filling her perfectly and reaching places she could never reach with her hand or a toy. When you start moving your hips, she whimpers and moans, gripping handfuls of the bedsheets so you don’t slam her into the headboard.

She spasms around you with every stroke, clenching tightly and trying to draw you in as deep as you can go. Natasha loves to hear you moan, knowing she was the cause of them, and more of her slick leaks out around your cock. 

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, your thighs slapping against her butt with every thrust. “You always feel amazing.”

“Harder,” she begs. “I want you to cum when I do.”

“I’ll try,” you respond, your breathing ragged as you start to falter in your rhythm. 

“Fuck, you’re in me so deep,” Natasha moans, wishing that despite your already above-average size, you had more to give her. She lets go of the bedsheets and slips her hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit for added stimulation. “Don’t you dare stop,” she warns, noticing the way your legs are shaking and your thrusts are losing their power.

“I won’t,” you whimper, and Natasha is not convinced you’ll be able to last much longer. Her hand glides back up to her stomach, where she can feel the bulge of your cock through her skin. That alone nearly sends her over the edge, but she has one more request from you.

“Bite me,” Natasha pants, motioning to her right trapezius muscle. Normally, she is very against you marking her during sex because she doesn’t want to worry about hiding them, but now she is panting at the thought of you finally staking your claim on her.

“Bite you?” you say, sounding extremely timid.

“Yes!” she growls, not wanting to repeat herself. “If you don’t bite me, I won’t let you cum.”

You moan and tighten your grip on her waist. Natasha feels your cock throbbing inside her, but she knows you won’t finish without her permission. The bed creaks as your weight shifts and she feels your chest press against her back as you lean over her. She hums in anticipation, feeling your breath across the back of her shoulder. Your teeth graze her skin lightly, your hesitancy obvious. 

“Y/N,” she moans, pushing back into you and squeezing your length. “If you don’t fucking bite me–”

Your teeth suddenly clamp down sharply and Natasha keens, gushing around you and not even noticing you finish inside her. White spots of pure pleasure burst behind her eyelids and she feels cum drip down her thighs. It feels like she’s riding out the high forever, but when she finally unwinds, she feels your weight pressing into her back and a dull stinging in her shoulder. She twists her head to see the clear imprint of your teeth in her skin, the flesh reddening already.

“Sorry if that was too hard,” you say softly, as if you’re embarrassed by following her instructions.

“Nonsense,” she says, reaching behind her to cup the back of your neck. She pulls your head down against hers and nuzzles against your cheek. “Next time, you can bite me harder.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Sorry to Sam lol

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[clamsjams]

god that sounds terrible it’s so weird to me bc before this my main smp was empires and sausage was constantly making moves on every other guy in the series and joel made a new child with a new person every other day it was like the polar opposite of that

I will be honest I am still dealing with QSMP culture shock that shipping has been legalized. Me moving block men closer together and glancing repeatedly at the audience for confirmation. "They— are married? Share a bed? This is allowed? The block men love each other?" And then from the back of the room Philza Minecraft himself throws me a thumbs-up.