#do u like the sheath on her leg

[foggy-dragon]

heh cool V design from twitter I made

part of a request thing I did there I'll post a few more

[ervotica]

Imagine this: youre in college, and after all those boring classes you come to your job at the donaldsons that includes riding him in the couch for as long as your legs allow you.

Tashi just coming home to thats sight and just making herself a afternoon drink unbotherd.

Dbsnhxhsb

omg shut up???🥲

warnings; all smut not much plot, older!art, so much potential for this series aghhh

a/n; art is an ear freak i literally feel it in my balls he loves it when u suck on them ears (he did it to tashi so he likes doing it to others too <3)

the front door clicks and you wander through, in this teensy little white tennis dress that art told - no, commanded - you to wear when you came to work. the dress that shows the strain of your hard nipples through the fabric, swollen into points like diamonds, the one that slips upward and reveals the perky swells of your ass, the barely covered seam of your pussy when you trounce up to him, chirruping nonsense and smiling at him like he’s the only man in the world.

he murmurs something indiscernible - a pleased noise that reverberates at the back of his throat - and you lean over the back of the couch, sliding your manicured fingers across the expanse of his chest, chin tucked to his neck.

“hi.”

“hi, baby,” he murmurs in that low, rasping way that turns your insides molten.

fast forward no more than ten minutes, and you’re both bare, art’s thick fingers curled round your waist as he uses you as a fleshlight, lifting you up and down like a ragdoll and watching, entranced, as your cunt flares and parts for his thick cock; you sob and babble, slumped forward against his chest, nails digging into porcelain skin, teeth scraping along art’s cheekbone.

“i know, baby. i know,” he grunts, and you’ve never heard a sound like it. your cunt clenches, a soft silk wrap around his cock, and he’s turning his head to suck at the corner of your mouth, all spit and drool and tongue, so much of it that it drips from your chin, globs of it pooling between your tits.

the front door clicks and you’re both too lost in each other to care as tashi comes through the living room and enters the kitchen; art hooks one of his huge hands under the crease of your knee, lifting your leg until it’s draped over his forearm, bracing his feet against the leather of the couch as he jackrabbits up into you. you make a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream, and then tashi’s figure is crossing by you once more, drink in hand, lithe fingers nudging at your jaw to examine your expression. she bends at the waist, pinches your pert little nipple and rolls the bud between her fingertips, and smirks - fucking smirks - as your pussy clamps down on him like a vice; art lets out a stuttered breath, pulls you down onto him, and cums on the spot.

neither of you quit writhing against each other; he has at least another load in him, cock already chubbing back up encased in your spasming walls, no doubt an angry red and drooling precum. tashi settles herself on the armchair opposite you, already disinterestedly flicking through tv channels.

“want my mouth on you,” you whisper, face pressed just below his jaw, breathing hot air onto his neck.

“in a minute, baby,” he supplicates, grunting as he sheathes himself further into your tight warmth, balls heavy and swollen and slapping against your ass with every filthy rock of his hips.

tashi crosses one leg over the other, the picture of boredom, and says, “bite his ear. he loves that shit.”

you do just that, teeth rolling over his lobe as you suck the sensitive skin into your mouth.

he almost cums again, hands sliding up and over your back to still your movements so he doesn’t blow his load right there.

oh, tashi’s going to have fun with you. mould you into a perfect little toy for her husband, take some of his intense, fervent pining off of her, let you be the center of his world so she can focus on improving his game.

she might even keep you if you’re lucky.

[yanderefarm]

Drowning Achilles while brutally using him slapping his hand away when he tries to touch himself pressing him under the water harder when he tries to go up to catch his breathe leaving him on the bathroom floor tied up

I saw u say something about drowning sex in the Ajax abuse request

🐀

cw;; drowning, rough sex, vomiting (kind of), abuse, violence, dark content, dead dove do not eat

tbh there's this one scene in this horror movie "would you rather" and like its not a great movie it's just essentially torture porn but like there's this scene where this pretty goth girl has to hold her breath underwater for 4 minutes and it changed my brain chemistry when I first saw it.

you had one of his arms held behind his back for leverage to jack hammer your cock deeper into him while your other hand was forcing his face into the bathtub. he was clearly loving it; he had been play fighting so far, pretending to struggle and fight so you had to keep him in his place but the lack of oxygen was starting to get to him. his greedy hole was tightening as it started to get hard to breathe and his legs shuffled and kicked, not enough.

you pulled his head out of the water and he was gasping. you took the opportunity to bury yourself completely in his tight hole, fully sheathed in his boy cunt. you tugged at his pretty hair until his head rested against your shoulder.

"chilles, not gonna pull you back up until you're full of cum. let's hope you don't die, huh fucktoy?"

his head was clearly already dizzy from what you'd done so far and he could just nod weakly. he took a few more deep breaths before you finally plunged his head back into the cold water.

his thin hand reached between his thighs and started to wrap around his cock. oh the little slut was asking to be drowned today. you grabbed his hand hard enough to bruise as you fixed them both behind his back in a rough grip. his entire body shook as your new handles made it easier for you to go even rougher.

your cock was trying to punch the air out of him with every deep thrust that pressed right into his sweet spot. he couldn't keep holding his breath for much longer already. his hands started to push against the edge of the tub while his feet started to kick and push trying in vain to pull himself back. you kept the brutal pace in his pretty cunt moaning at the way his body clenched so tight in panic. water began to splash up and spill over the tub as he tried to move his head above water.

"you- ngh- filth-filthy fucking slut you- fuck- you're loving this so much huh?" each word accentuated with a grunt and the sound of your skin slapping together.

"you wanna fu-fucking die today? wanna die ta-taking daddy's co-cock like a- ngh- whore~"

god the way he clenched around you told you everything you wanted to know. you were getting close, your pace slowed as his fighting got even rougher. he was pounding his hands against the tub, legs flailing, body tightening. and with a few long thrusts deep into his tight cunt you spilled ropes and ropes of thick cum into him. his body just started to lose its vigor when you finally pulled his head out.

you watched achilles take deep gasping breaths his eyes rolling back and his cock twitched between his legs. he came untouched on the bathroom tile. just from almost dying. you let him keep taking deep breaths as you released his arms and started to kiss his neck.

"filthy. you're so fucking filthy." you kissed and bit his neck to praise him for his good job as you gave a few more slow thrusts into his messy ass.

achilles sat up properly moving into your lap while he clutched his chest. he was clearly dizzy and out of it, his pretty blue eyes were blank like you'd sucked the life out of them. you almost had. you watched in amusement as his whole body twitched and he came against, spilling cum on his stomach this time.

"hey that's not fair~ you're a fucktoy you're not supposed to cum more than me." you bit at his neck not expecting a reply.

"sssorryyy" he slurred through gasping breaths, his head lulling against your shoulder.

his pretty eyes started to close so you slapped his face. "don't go falling asleep now. you're not done."

you let out a little moan and blinked his eyes open sleepily. once it looked safe like he wasn't going to pass out you shoved him off your cock and onto the bathroom tile. he gasped and whimpered in surprise but you just ignored him, instead grabbing a towel and wiping off your body that he had gotten wet.

you nudged him with your foot so he was looking back at you. "get this shit cleaned up and come to my office for round 2."

you kicked him as hard as you could in the stomach making him cough up water and start gasping for air again. for good measure you gave him another kick. and another. and one more. his stomach already showing signs of bruising as tears started to well up in his eyes.

"fffhaaank youuuu"

[maneskinwh0re]

Hellooo, would u be able to do a sevika or butch logan (don't mind who) reacting to the reader pulling a knife on them in a fight?Please and thank you ❤️

yes omg !! i love ur loki pfp btw 💚

lemme get a small sevika fic on here before s2 comes out tmrrw !! :3

wlw nsfw >> no smut :c …this time

🔪 but she would DEFINITELY look at you like this vvv

»»----------►

⊳ “ready for round 2?”

⊳ you groan in frustration as you push sevika off your body onto the floor next to you. she chuckles and rolls to her side, leaning up on her elbow to look down at you.

⊳ “you’re a jerk,” you grumble, clearly pissed off over how your muscular girlfriend successes every time you train together.

⊳“are you mad at me, beautiful?”

⊳ of course not. how could you be? you’re just frustrated with yourself. as one of silco’s newest guards, you have to improve on hand to hand combat in order to protect him and your fellow colleagues. you enjoy your new job—it comes with the privilege of getting to see your girlfriend every day, but the tasks do take a toll on your strength. that’s why you need to work both smarter and harder.

⊳ you pout at sevika and stand up, pulling up the waistband of your grey sweatpants and smoothing out the fabric of your black compression shirt. sevika herself wears wrist wraps and a black sports bra — and god, she just loves distracting you with peeks of her boxers when she “adjusts” her own baggy sweatpants. her toned abs are on full display and framed by her deep v-line. her short, dark hair is pulled back into a tight bun while a few wisps fall against her gorgeous, scarred face. has it been mentioned her appearance distracts you?

⊳ “let’s just go again,” you huff as you shake out your wrists and prep yourself into a defensive stance.

⊳ sevika’s movements are just as quick as before, but this time, you’re quicker. she is taller, stronger than you, but not by much. it takes a moment, but you find her fighting pattern. her jabs and punches are soon dodged by your swift motions, and by the time she processes your leg sweeping her feet out from under her, her back hits the wooden floor and a groaned curse leaves her lips.

⊳ the wind has been knocked out of her, but you know that’ll only fuel her attitude to not take things easy on you. before she can catch her breath, you pin her to the ground, straddling her hips and holding her flesh wrist down above her head. in your free hand, you lift a beautiful, black knife made with serrated steel against her neck.

⊳ “i win,” your chest heaves with exasperation. you announce your triumph as if sevika isn’t literally under your panting body, but you want her to admit it. she needs to admit it or else it didn’t happen in her mind. “i fucking won, say it.”

⊳ she seems surprised at first, your boldness catching her off guard before she zones out to admire the sight above her. sweat coats your flushed skin, baby hairs stick to your face, and you can’t help but breathe into her mouth. she loves every aspect of this perfect position — both of you feeling trapped in this moment yet more than satisfied with never wanting to leave it.

⊳ her widened eyes then narrow as she looks at the blade against her neck, then up at you — and she can’t help but chuckle softly at her own dirty thoughts. “where’d y’ find this little trinket?”

⊳ you smirk above her, that glint in your eye forming once you realize she likes this. because of course she does. you tilt your head slightly, studying her gaze as if she’s waiting for you to take things further and commit to taking the control you’ve worked so badly for. “got it jus’ for you. why?”

⊳ she looks back down at the blade, her smile widening before returning eye contact again. “’s nice… almost makes me wanna let y’ win.”

⊳ her words settle in as you watch a bottle of shimmer pump through the gears and wires of her mechanical arm. you move fast to pin one of your knees against the geared surface of her shoulder and sheathe the thin knife through her robotic wrist and into the floor without a moments’ hesitation. the magenta, vibrantly-drugged liquid bubbles and spurts out of sevika’s machinery, the gears whirring for only a moment before hissing in defeat.

⊳ it doesn’t hurt her, she can’t feel a thing, but that doesn’t stop you from realizing the weight of the action you took. with how advanced it is, sevika’s robotic limb takes time to adjust, fix, upgrade, etc. and when training/fighting with anyone, she only uses a small dose of shimmer as a last resort. but now that the arm is useless and her body is pinned under you, your girlfriend is now completely at your mercy.

⊳ although the thought doesn’t settle as nicely as it usually would. especially when her eyes briefly look over the mechanics in the prosthetic, seeing slight steam rise from the misplaced gears in her wrist. oops. you remove your hand from the knife yet the blade keeps her pinned to the floor, unless she were to remove the prosthetic altogether. her eyes return up to you, playful yet there’s a slightly warning, piercing glare. a further intention.

⊳ naturally, guilt first washes over you for the amount of repairs your girlfriend will have to make. but she isn’t mad, you know that. she doesn’t need to say a word. however, she now looks forward to using this as an opportunity to make show of punishing you. you know that as well, and lift your hands in surrender.

⊳“i’ll fix it…”

»»----------►

sorry this is kinda rushed^^ note for pt 2!!

manifesting happy ending for sevika in s2 🙏🙏✨✨✨ requests are open my lovelies and if you’ve sent one, i haven’t forgotten about you!! i have lots of works in the drafts rn and hoping to get them all out asap <3

-🐝

[symbiomancy]

cinema —orc

—summary: You find something much more interesting to do than watch the movie with your orc date. // AO3 // monster masterlist

—cw: monster x human, smut (p in v sex), semi-public sex, exhibitionism (if you squint really hard), creampie, size difference

—wc: 1k

“Cinema is dead,” you declare dryly, head resting against your date’s bicep. The orc sitting on your right chuckles and u feel the vibration under your cheek. The woman on the movie screen moans, arches her back as the camera oh-so artistically obscures her nude body from the spectators. It’s an atrocious movie, how anyone ever signed off on garbage like this being produced on a huge budget, you’ll never understand, but…

You press your thighs together, swallow around the tightness in your throat. Heat pools between your legs, clings to your panties as you imagine the phantom touch of the naga on the screen on your own skin; large warm hands sliding down your body, prodding, poking, groping. Or maybe your orc date. His hands are large and sturdy, fingers thick. Your cunt could probably accommodate only two of them. You dare a glance at him from the corner of your eye. It’s hard to see in the dark but you’re pretty sure his gaze is nailed to the screen, one hand resting on your thigh, the other on his lap, and — oh.

“You need some help with that?”

But you don’t wait for his answer and sit up, throw your leg over his lap. His thighs are thick, legs spread, and you grind down against the bulge in his jeans. He hisses under his breath. His large hands come to rest on your hips, push your pelvis flush against his, and drag you over the length of his cock. You stifle your moan. He’s big, so big.

You feel down his torso until you meet the cool metal of his belt buckle and busy your fingers with undoing the clasp. He rolls his hips, grinds the tent in his pants against your slick-drenched panties. When his belt releases, you hurry to unbutton and unzip him and tug his already hard cock out of his boxers.

You can barely see it in the dark, so you wrap your hand around it, fingertips barely brushing around his girth, and give it an experimental pump. He’s long and thick, so thick, throbbing in your hand. You run your thumb over the slit on the head, gather it on the pad of your thumb, and bring the finger to your lips, wrap your tongue around it. He moans, loud — too loud — and you almost slap your hand over his mouth but he moves first, his grip on your hips heavy as he pulls you forward.

Your thighs strain when you stand onto your knees, one hand tugging your panties to the side, the other on his cock to angle yourself. The blunt tip drags through your folds, nudges your throbbing clit and you nearly lose your composure. You pause when he presses against your entrance, not quite in yet.

“Just —”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says and pushes the tip in. A stifled moan gets stuck in the back of your throat. Every ridge and groove, every vein of his cock drags against your insides so sweetly. Your exhale is drawn out as you adjust to his size, and blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He catches your eye through the blur in your vision, his mouth tilted into a grin, and abruptly pulls you down, sheathes you onto his cock like a fleshlight. Your mouth drops open, a lewd moan escapes and you swear you see stars. He’s thick, deep. You grind down against him with a whimper, grind your clit against his pelvis.

The orc throws his head back with a groan and bucks his hips into you once. But it’s shallow, offers very little friction. His chest is rising and falling with deep breaths as if he’s trying to pull himself together and you frown, pull away slightly, and sink back down. The stretch is heavenly, the way he drags against you hits every spot he’s supposed to —

The grip on your hips tightens, blunt nails sinking into your skin as he abruptly pushes you back and pulls you back in just as quickly. Your thighs connect with a sharp smack that reverberates through the empty theater room. You don’t — can’t — stifle the moan that escapes you and he stets a pace you couldn’t even imagine keeping up with but you try. You flail your arms, manage to grab onto his shoulders, and plaster yourself against him, open cleavage right in his face. He immediately thrusts back into your hot, wet, dripping pussy, presses his face deeper into your tits, slides his hot tongue across your skin.

He grows frenzied all at once, pistons into you with bruising force, rips a pathetic wail from your throat that you nearly choke on. The sound of skin slapping against skin bounces off the walls of the empty theater and echoes back into your ears. It’s lewd, so lewd and you gush around him more, so wet, so hot, beads of sweat dotting your skin.

You cum, gush on his cock, hips stuttering and he takes over, wraps his large, sturdy hands around your waist, and fucks up into you — fleshlight, you’re just a tiny human fleshlight to stuff full of cum. The mere thought of that almost sends you over the edge again right then and there, vision blurring, ears ringing. You let your body tip forward, his blunt tusks prodding against the soft flesh of your tits, let him brutalize your pussy with his big cock because it’s too hard to think, to form a coherent thought.

The orc’s movements stutter abruptly, and he pulls you down against him, buries himself deep inside your hot pussy with a loud grunt. His cock twitches, floods you with his seed.

All at once, you feel like dead weight on top of him. Your arms and thighs and hips and pussy ache. Cotton fills your head and you take a moment to re-orient yourself after your orgasm, to let the world around you come into focus. The stale scent of movie theater popcorn, the whine of the leather seat under your combined weight. The body under yours panting, chest heaving, hot breath caressing your breasts.

Reality slams back into you and you nearly jump out of your skin when someone clears their throat behind you. The room is quiet, the lights are on. The front desk clerk is standing by the door with a mop in his hands.

Oh.

Oops.

banners by @/cafekitsune

[revasserium]

butterfly lovers opla zoro screaming crying throwing up

butterfly lovers

opla!zoro; 7,106 words; fluff, kind of childhood friends to lovers, slowburn af, nsfw, pron with TOO MUCH plot, opla!canon divergence, ships doctor!reader, fem!reader, riding, "good girl", emotional sex

summary: yours and zoro's story, from two different perspectives.

a/n: @halfvalid this is ur fault. take responsibility pls. also the smut is literally just one part of a larger story, but it does actually get explicit so. do with that info what u will u__u.

false start.

most good stories, scholars and storytellers would both agree, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. though, famously, not necessarily in that order. and this particular story — well, it has several places one might call the beginning. and one of them is here — in shimotsuki village, in a patch of rich green forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and earth.

it would be a lie to say that the story begins here, at a doujou where eight year old boys and nine year old girls swing wooden swords hundreds of thousands of times each day. where you’d seen zoro for the very first time.

the story could have started here, but alas, it did not.

because you see, you’d never been great, or even particularly good at swordsmanship. and zoro — zoro was one of the best. even from the beginning, his raw, unfettered talent was a force to be reckoned with. but the reckoning came in the form of the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, and you were no more part of zoro’s story then than a drop of ink in a midnight ocean — lost to the tumultuous waves of childhood tedium, of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

but you’d known him then, watched him as he grew, as he got better and better and better. bigger, stronger, quicker, sharper. and beside him was kuina, steady as the shifting tides, relentless in her efficacy, tireless in her craft. he was good, but she was better.

until one day, when very suddenly, she wasn’t.

the story, as it is, does not start here, because you’d made the solemn walk to kuina’s funeral altar with the rest of the students at the doujou in complete silence, had knelt there in equal silence and watched as sensei had bestowed the wadou ichimonji upon zoro, watched as he had gripped the sword with both hands, his knuckles going white as the sword’s moon-washed sheath, and bowed his head in acceptance.

it does not start here because later, instead of following the same, silent procession of kids back to the doujou’s main compound, you’d slipped away, silent as a shadow, and sprinted through the wide, cedar forest to a secret, open patch of grass where the sun bled from a stretch of endless sky blue enough to sting, and tiny little white-petaled flowers had sprung from the still-damp earth, turning their faces towards the coming spring.

you’d run, screaming through the field till you’d run out of breath to scream with, and collapsed among the tiny white flowers, panting and staring up at the endless blue sky, feeling the helplessness pulse through your veins. because even though kuina hadn’t been your friend — you’d exchanged perhaps a handful of words in all the years you’d spent here — she’d been a constant presence in your life. and now, she was gone. and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you laid there for longer than you can remember, and then, as the sun finally dipped beyond the far horizon and the darkness grew longer than the sea was wide, you got up and trudged towards the clearing’s edge. only to find a small creature huddled against the trunk of a thin sapling tree — it looked like nothing more than a bundle of white-spotted fur, and it took you a long moment to realize that it was a fawn, curled into a pile of gnarled roots, shivering, eye wet and wide and terrified.

you blinked, staring at it for a few seconds before you’d noticed the gash on it’s hind leg, jutting out at an uncomfortable angle. your heart had stuttered inside your chest, and you’d dropped down to your hands and knees, cooing softly as you slowly approached the creature, trying to look as unmenacing as possible.

“hey there… are you hurt?” you’d said, crawling towards it, trying very hard to make your movements as slow and smooth as possible.

the fawn shivered as it stares at you, apparently caught between sheer terror and curiosity. you tried to smile, before digging into your pockets and pulling out a handful of peanuts, offering them to the fawn on an open palm.

“c’mon, i’m not gonna hurt you… i just wanna take a look… at that leg of yours, can i do that?” you’d asked, inching in closer and closer until the fawn’s warm, wet nose dug into your palm, it’s smooth-edged teeth grazing your skin as it crunched through the peanuts. you took the chance to glance down at it’s injured leg — it wasn’t a deep wound, but judging by the angle, it was a bit dislocated and would need to be set back right if the fawn was ever going to walk again.

slowly, you reached out a free hand to gently stroke at the fawns haunches, feeling it’s muscles tense up beneath you, even as it continues to snuffle against your palm, eager for any remnants of the peanut shells. you ran your hand along it’s leg and quick as a flash, you pressed against the odd jutting of bone, even as it snapped back into place with a satisfying crack.

the fawn made a shrill, screeching noise, jerking to its feet, but a moment later, it seemed to realize that it’s leg was no longer hurting. you held up both your hands in what you hoped was a calming gesture before tugging out a few more peanuts holding it out as an offering.

the fawn blinks it’s dark, watery eyes at you a few times before limping forward to dig its nose once more into your palm. you allowed yourself a smile then, and a soft relieved laugh as the fawn limped forward a few more steps, testing the weight of it’s body on its newly repaired leg. it looked more confident now, seemingly realizing that the wound was somewhat fixed, and it gave you one last, lingering look before it bounded off back into the sunset forest, leaving you with nothing more than a handful of peanut shells and a tightness in your chest you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.

you’d snuck back into the doujou that evening, smelling of mud and moss and cedar, and you’d lain in your futon, staring up at the high slatted ceilings, streaked with moonlight, wondering where on earth you truly belonged.

the next morning, everyone woke to neatly a folded futon and a wooden training katana, the hilt carved with your name, laid across your pillow.

so you see, the story could have started here. but it didn’t. and perhaps we should be thankful for that.

the cost of ambition.

the story, as we know it, starts then at the baratie, on the morning after a meal was eaten and not properly paid for, after an ill-fated duel between a boy with a mouthful of ambitions and a man who’d forgotten what it felt like to be truly surprised. well, he was surprised that morning, watching the boy fall back with a gash the size of the world spurting blood across the docks.

“grow strong,” he’d said, “and come find me.”

and it starts, when a pirate in a straw hat comes crashing into the baratie’s kitchen, shouting about a dying friend.

“help! help! zoro… zoro needs a doctor!”

“whoa, whoa, slow down, chore boy — i can’t understand a word you’re saying,” zeff holds up a hand to stem luffy’s panicked rambling.

“my friend is dying…”

“the nearest doctor’s on the conomi islands —”

“wait, no —” sanji frowns, cutting zeff off, “lemme look at the reservations from last night —” he hurries off to the front desk and returns with a thick leather bound volume, flipping it open to scan through the seating chart for the night before.

“i knew it!” he says, pointing at a name written in deep, ocean blue ink, “there — her! i’ve heard of her — she’s the best ship’s doctor in the east blue, and if i’m not much mistaken, her ride’s not due to leave till this afternoon.”

“great! c’mon — we haven’t got time to lose!” luffy says as he rushes out of the kitchens, leaving sanji and zeff to exchange an exasperated look before following after.

they find you on the loading docks, your nose buried in a notebook, your hand flying across the page, ink smudging your unrolling sleeve.

“please! we need a doctor! my friend — zoro — he’s dying!”

you jerk up from your notes, the name ringing in your ears like an alarm bell, rocking through your body like the base boom of a signal flare. zoro? here?

you look around even as luffy makes his way to you, pressing in too close, a hand on top of his head to keep his hat from flying away, the other curling around your upper arm.

“w-wait — what’s going on? did you say someone was dying?”

“yes! my friend! he got into a fight with this warlord guy and now he’s bleeding from everywhere —”

“show me,” you say, lurching to your feet and shouldering your leather knapsack, pursing your lips as your vision threatens to tunnel ahead of you. zoro. it’s been such a long time since you’d heard that name. sure, you’d heard of his exploits in the east blue. how could you not have?

demon, bounty, pirate hunter. hunter, hunter, hunter —

you take a deep breath as luffy leads you onto the deck of the going merry and ducks below, motioning for you to follow.

when you step into the room, you don’t notice the orange-haired girl or the long-nosed boy, instead, your eyes are drawn to the body on the kitchen table as a magnet would a compass rose. his shirt torn into barely more than ribbons, a large red gash oozing blood, bisecting his torso like some unbridgeable canyon in miniature, his skin paler than you’d ever remembered it being, sweat beading his flickering brow —

oh, zoro…

you resist the urge to press your hand to your mouth. so instead, you swallow back your heart and try to assess the damage. massive blood loss, possible head trauma, and who knows what else?

“you said a warlord with a giant sword did this?” you ask, hurrying to the table and frowning down at the gaping wound.

“y-yeah — he — he had a big hat with a white feather on it —” luffy starts.

“mihawk. his name was dracule mihawk,” the orange-haired girl cuts in, her voice sharp and a bit too forced to be steady, “he told zoro to get stronger, and that… it wasn’t his time to die yet.”

you grimace, chewing on your bottom lip as you dump your supplies unceremoniously onto the countertop next to him, digging out the necessities.

“well, he wasn’t lying — the cut’s clean and judging by the size… he could’ve cut much deeper. but he didn’t,” you sigh, absently rolling up your sleeves as you pull out a hooked suture needle and a length of thread.

they watch you work in silence, first cleaning the wound, and then slowly, painstakingly pinching and stitching him back together. by the end of it, you’re nearly dizzy with exhaustion, and the sky outside has already turned a deep, bruising purple.

you sigh, wiping down your hands.

“can someone go and ask the waiter for a fish? any fish’ll do, but the fresher, the better. oh, and a bottle of scotch.”

“got it!” the boy with the long nose bolts up and is gone in a flash.

you slump down into a nearby chair and let your head loll back. a moment later, you feel someone pressing a glass into your hand and open your eyes to find the orange-haired girl holding a glass of water.

“here… you looked like you could use it.”

“thanks,” you say, taking a grateful gulp.

“i’m nami, by the way… thanks for —” she waves at the shape of zoro still on the kitchen table, “and that one over there is luffy. the guy that just left is usopp and —” her breath catches as her eyes fall back onto zoro’s form.

“i know who he is,” you say, your voice quiet as you look down at the glass clutched in your hands.

“you know zoro?” luffy’s voice is loud, but not unpleasantly so.

you glance up and feel the truth pulsing against the back of your throat like a heartbeat. then, you shake your head with a soft smile.

“i mean, he’s got quite the reputation.”

luffy lets out a laugh, “yeah! he sure does — he’s a great fighter! probably one of the best i’ve ever seen!”

you nod, staring at the sloshing liquid in the bottom of your glass.

a few moments later, usopp returns with sanji in tow, holding a bottle of scotch in one hand and a dead fish in the other.

“you’d better have a good reason for this,” he says, his expression grim, “zeff’s not gonna be happy when he finds these gone.”

you force a smile, “well, i can promise that at least one of those things’ll be put to good use — can you just skin the fish for me, please?”

sanji frowns, “and the scotch?”

you glance around before shrugging, “i don’t know about you guys but… i think we could all use a drink.”

the cliche of the morning after.

when zoro wakes up the first time, it’s to a world-muffling quiet. he coughs, uncertain of where he is, his head throbbing, his chest feeling too light and too heavy all at once.

“oh! you’re awake — here… have some water. you’ll need it.”

he hears the voice, both familiar and foreign, and then, he feels the cool press of a glass against his lips.

he gulps down the water greedily before pain rockets through him and he lets out a loud groan.

“i… i had a dream…” he says, his head spinning, the words slurring from him, and for a second, he wonders if he’d just been fed alcohol instead of water, but the pain seizes him again and he can’t stop talking.

“yeah? what did you dream about?” the familiar, foreign voice asks, soothing, as a cold palm presses against his forehead.

“shimotsuki village… i — i made a promise. i told her — i’d be the greatest… swordsman…”

his voice is fading, and the world is fading with it.

“yeah… you did, huh? and i’m sure you’ll fulfill it, one day…”

zoro sighs, sinking gratefully into the warm, welcoming arms of darkness once more.

“but not today,” you say, reaching out to wipe the sweat from zoro’s brow, your voice so soft that you’re sure no one else can hear, “today… you just need to keep on living. and that’s the greatest promise you could ever make to me.”

smooth sailing.

when he wakes up proper, you aren’t there to greet him. but he doesn’t miss the shape of you as they all pile onto the merry to go looking for nami. he doesn’t miss sanji’s too-wide grin or the unpleasant, burning itch that shoots through his healing wound as he watches the cook ask you about your favorite foods.

he keeps quiet for the most part, but you find him still, and you ask him how he’s doing with a ship’s doctor’s professionalism and efficiency.

“how’re you healing?”

“fine.”

“any tenderness?” you ask, your brows knitting as he tugs open his shirt and lets you peel the bandages away.

“not really,” he lies, because the the tenderness is not skin deep. he feels it in the labyrinthine galleys of his soul and he can’t quite figure out why you, of all people, might make him feel this way.

you run a surgical hand along the stretch of puckered skin and he sucks in a long breath, feeling his cheeks flood with inexplicable heat.

you smell of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth and for the life of him, he can’t remember why it makes his entire body go soft with memory. it reminds him of… something.

something, something, something.

“i hear you, y’know,” you say, and he jerks back to the present, with you absently rolling up your shirtsleeves before tugging at a fresh piece of gauze to wrap him back up.

“don’t know what you mean.” he looks away, willing himself to stay still as you daub a pungent cream against his chest before applying the layers of bandage. he lifts his arm to give you more room even as you shoot him a disbelieving look.

“sword practice, in the middle of the night. i told you that you need to rest — you’ll only prolong your own healing if you keep on pushing yourself like this. rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro narrows his eyes. because he’d heard that from someone, somewhere before.

“your bodies need time to repair,” his sensei used to say as they all gathered after dinner at the doujou for evening meditation, “and a disciplined mind leads to a disciplined body. don’t forget that rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro had never been good at it, but over the years, he’d managed to endure.

“there. all done.”

you lean back to admire your handiwork, unaware of zoro’s eyes as they scan over the shape of you, taking in the length of your hair, the bright of your eyes, the limber, spider-quick thinness of your hands and fingers.

“thanks,” he says, slipping off the kitchen table, pausing as he notices how still you’ve gone, your eyes wide as you blink at the planes of his chest, inches from your nose. a second later, you stumble back, clearing your throat, a sweet dawning pink dusts the high of your cheeks as he cocks his head to watch you, fascinated by your reaction.

he almost grins, letting his stomach flex as he takes his time in doing up the buttons of his shirt, before grabbing his swords and slipping from the room, leaving you to clean up your medical supplies, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

zoro wonders, just briefly, how it might feel to catch your lips between his own teeth instead.

ink, skin, and bullets.

it’s you who bandages nami’s self-inflicted wounds, you who spends four meticulous hours tattooing over the sawfish curl with a pinwheel spiral that curves into a tangerine’s plumpness. you, who soothes eucalyptus balm over nami’s arm before wrapping it up in a fresh roll of gauze, waving away her hiccupped thanks.

and it’s you, who gets a shotgun pressed into your palms by a stony-faced nojiko as you all prepare to march on arlong park.

“if i can’t go with you… then at least, i can give you the tools,” nojiko says as she wraps your fingers around the butt of the gun.

zoro narrows his eyes as he watches the way your fingers shake as you weigh the shotgun in your palms.

“i don’t like it,” he says.

“yeah, you shouldn’t come with us — we’ll need you to patch us up after,” sanji agrees with a wink, much to zoro’s displeasure.

but you shake your head, a steely light in your eyes as you clutch the shotgun to your chest, “no, i — i want to come. i mean — like luffy said… it’s our fight, after all.”

arlong park.

the flurry of battle is as it always has been. you use the shotgun more as a blunt instrument than as a projectile carrier, but it seems to work just as well. you’re small, and quick, and your knowledge of anatomy (yes, even fishman anatomy) allows you to maneuver the head of the shotgun into the softest, most venerable places on a fishman’s body as you all fight your way through arlong park.

but zoro is never far off, keeping close to you as he fends off the worst of the snarling fishmen, his sword flashing like fish scales in the midday sun.

there comes a moment when he slices an oncoming fishman right through the jugular that you let out a long breath, wincing as the fishman’s body hits the ground with a dull thud, and zoro sighs, turning towards you. but a second later, he freezes as you grab the hilt of his sword and shove it backwards.

he feels it resting against thick, bullet-proof flesh and he hears the loud panting of something next to his ear as he sees in the reflection of your eyes — a fishman standing behind him, frozen against the tip of his blade, the hilt clutched in your shaking, shivering hands.

“d-don’t — i’ll kill you —” you say, your voice a forceful, fractured thing.

zoro searches your eyes before clasping his hands over yours and slowly tugging the sword from your gasp.

“hey…” he says, deliberately drawing your gaze away from the fishman before he jerks his sword back and feels, with a satisfying shink, the weight of the blade sinking into unforgiving flesh. he feels your fingers trembling beneath his as he pulls the sword away, and the fishman behind him sinks to his knees before falling sideways with the dull thunk of a no longer animate body.

you try to tug away, but zoro holds you steady, running his thumb in soothing circles along the backs of your hands.

“s-sorry — i — i couldn’t —”

zoro shakes his head, pulling you up by your elbow.

“it’s okay — don’t apologize.” he whips his swords around and catches another fishman in the stomach, dropping him with a flicker of silver and a splash of red.

“you never have to apologize…” he says, as he reaches for your hands and curls them in the warmth of his own, callused palms.

finding neverland.

you kiss for the first time after a brutal battle. after the deck has been washed of blood and the railings have been hung with the remnants of the tattered sails.

repairs are much needed, but zoro had saved you yet again. you pull him to you in the darkness of the midnight deck, the crow’s nest empty because, well, he’s supposed to be up there, keeping watch. but you’d caught him instead, curling your fingers into the soft linen of his shirt, your mouth seeking out his in the relative dark.

“mnph —”

he grunts as his hands find purchase against your shoulders, pressing you back and back and back, till you’re pushed flush against the thick totem of the main mast, and your panting breaths are all he can taste against his desperate lips.

“s-sorry…” you let out a helpless laugh as he pushes forward, his teeth clacking against yours.

“quit that,” he says, his voice nothing more than a panting breath on the open sea air.

“hm?” you blink, lashes fluttering in the moonless night, your lips kiss-swollen and delectable even as zoro forces himself to pull back, studying you with an accusatory eye.

“you’re always saying sorry,” he says as he brushes a strand of hair from your cheek. above you, the main sail whoomps, catching an evening wind.

“i’m not… i don’t…” you look away, embarrassed to be caught. zoro reaches down to grab your chin, forcing your head back towards him.

“yeah, you do,” he says, his voice gentle, even as he cups your cheek.

“you don’t ever, ever, have to apologize for just... being you. got it?” and there’s a burning ember in the spark of his voice as he twists your face up towards him, his lips hot and hungry as he brands you with this promise, and you’re powerless to do else but accept it.

you find your fingers in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, his breath cascading over your lips even as you press in close, close, closer. a helpless whine twists its way up the back of your throat as zoro hoists you up, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

“z-zoro… please,” there’s something broken in the tenor of your voice that breaks him more completely than he has the words to describe, so he settles for holding you tighter over his hips and carrying you to his room. it takes a bit of finagling to get you comfortably situated in his hanging bed, but once he does, he can’t help the soft sigh that escapes him as he looks over the length of your body.

from your pink-flushed cheeks to the loose, crumpled material of your button up shirt, all the way down to the hem of your skirt as it brushes up along the skin of your thighs. he leans own to press an indulgent kiss into the dip of your collarbone.

“'please' though… i like a little bit more,” he says, reaching down to pop the top button of your shirt, to revel in the way you hiccup as he teases a line down your chest, his lips following his fingers as he undoes your buttons one by one.

“i — ah —” your fingers curl into the soft moss of his hair and he groans, long and lush into the creamy expanse of skin above the waist of your miniskirt.

“again…” zoro says, whispering the word against you, tugging on the elastic of your skirt, pulling them down the length of your legs.

“z-zoro, please!”

your head tips back as you feel his tongue flick over the hot button of your clit, his fingers digging into your hips, the pads of his forefingers tracing gentle circles around your hip bones as he holds you to his mouth and moans.

there’s a fumbling of fingers and a clashing of teeth as he wrenches himself up from between your legs to mouth at your lips. you taste yourself on his tongue and shiver at the indecency. still, the coals of desire burn in the pit of your stomach as his fingers press into your spit-slicked folds and you feel your whole body arch up in response.

he has always been quiet, but none more so than when he’s working three digits into your fluttering core, his eyes dark and fixed as they watch his own fingers pull out of you and push back in, slick and shiny with the evidence of your arousal.

“fuck…” he whispers the word like a prayer, slipping passed his lips like some holy thing. you can hear the near reverence in his voice as he slowly removes his hand and presses them to his lips for a taste. the lewdness of it makes the hot coil in the pit of your stomach twist all the tighter. and this time, when he drags himself up the length of your body to kiss you, you whine against his mouth, tasting your own tang on the heat of his tongue.

“ngh — fuck —!” you echo, as he flips onto his back and tugs you over his hips in one, fluid moment, his palms helping you grind your sodden folds over the length of his cock, the friction all-consuming and dizzying. a thin string of arousal connecting the tip of his cock to the seam of your cunt and zoro is helpless to do much else but moan thickly at the sight.

“shit.”

you whimper softly as he teases at your entrance, your palms splayed against his chest for support, your thighs shaking on either side of his hips as he eases you down inch by slow, excruciating inch, ontohis thick, throbbing cock. you toss your head back as he pushes into you, the fit of him fiery-tight and stretching you in ways you’d never thought was possible.

you feel him pulsing against your walls, and you wish briefly that you could’ve tasted him as he’d tasted you, before he sheathed himself inside you. how would he taste, you wondered, and you feel your mouth water at the thought of his heavy, salty weight on your tongue.

“n-ngh!” your voice cracks as he rocks his hips experimentally against yours, the drag of him inside you driving you to near incoherence.

“good girl,” he whispers, the words falling from him like second nature. you keen beneath his praise, bracing yourself as he plants his feet on the bed and jack hammers up into you, his stomach tensing in deep breaths of tight, sinewy muscle, his arms flexing as he helps you rock down above him.

“pretty… fucking… girl…” he intersperses his heavy groans of pleasure with soft exclamations, fucking you now to the light, rhythmic rocking of the ship, even though there’s nothing light about the way his cock bullies it’s way into your cunt again and again, forcing you to clamp down around him on each and every thrust.

there’s nothing gentle about the way he digs his nails into the flushed skin of your hips, how he leans up to latch his greedy mouth onto one of your pert nipples, moaning as he savors in the way you arch against him, pushing your chest more fully into his mouth.

“r-right — right there —”

“yeah?” he asks, half-smirking as he looks up at you, his warm gaze betraying the hard, teasing edge behind his voice, “where do you want me?”

you keen, whining as you drag your hands down your own body to press against your stomach, grabbing his hand to push it against you as well, his palm hot and flat as it lays along your tummy.

“r-right here —”

“fuck — that’s right —” he jerks up into you, burying his face in your chest with a clipped moan as he quickens his pace, his one hand pressing against your stomach as you feel him pushing up farther into you than you’d ever imagined possible.

the pleasure is intense, an other-worldly feeling as he finally pushes you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he feels you clench around him, your arms winding around his torso, to act as both tether and tide as he holds you to him, grounding you to this feeling while simultaneously casting you against the rough edges of this most selfless and selfish pleasure.

“h-holy… fuck me…” you breathe out, clutching at zoro’s back, digging ruddy red grooves into his shoulder blades as he rolls over to fucks down into you, relentless in his chase of his own climax, groaning deep and throaty as he finally spills into you.

you hiss as you feel the heat of him pooling inside. and it’s not till a few minutes later that he picks his head up from where his face had been buried in your neck to shoot you a wide, lopsided grin.

“yeah, pretty sure that’s what i just did,” he says, rolling onto his side and letting out a deep, soul-steadying breath.

you roll your eyes before turning to look at him, only to find him watching you with a gentle, anchoring softness. and like this, it’s hard to see him as the battle-hardened warrior. like this, it’s hard to imagine that he’d ever made such a promise as to become the greatest swordsman in the whole, entire world.

like this, he just looks like a lovestruck boy, forced to grow up much too soon, searching for any remnants of pleasure he might have left to hold on to.

an irony of hands.

it’s never easy, the night after enemy raids, the deck pooling with bodies and blood, the sea the color of a scabbing wound, flotsam and jetsam like bloated body parts floating on the dark, inky waves.

you’re helping usopp push some of the dead bodies overboard, but then you find one man with three deep gashes on his torso and blood bubbling on his lips.

“… gonna… gonna report — never… escape…”

you nearly yell as you see the tiny den den mushi in his hands, his fingers quivering as he tries to dial the emergency line. you smack it from his hand and press your tiny, surgeon’s scalpel to his throat. it’s sweet, polished silver gleams wicked beneath the moonless night.

“don’t you fucking dare,” you say, even though your voice shakes, and there are perhaps a million other ways of taking care of him more easily. but you know that if you throw him overboard now, he’d bob, half-drowning and helpless, for a few hours, or maybe even days before he’d finally succumb to the terrible, patient drag of the ocean (and most likely, dehydration).

“no,” a voice says, steady and firm, as a long, rough-fingered hands enter your vision and carefully tug your hands way from the man’s throat.

you look up to find zoro, his hand still clutched around yours, an unspoken sweetness flickering behind his eyes.

“i — if we toss him over — he'll just —” you swallow thickly, tearing your gaze away from zoro’s face as his expression shifts into something of the unreadable and soft. you hate to let him see you like this, so hesitant, so incompetent.

“let me do it,” zoro says, giving your hands a light shove before, with one swift arc of his blade, he severs the man’s carotid, leaving him slumped and bleeding on the blood-stained deck.

“oh… oh god…” you press your shaking fingers to your lips, the silver scalpel falling with a loud clatter.

“c’mere,” zoro says, tugging you up and leading you down to the hallway below decks. he slows as the pair of you enter the darkest part of the hallway, and he turns to hold you at arms length, his fingers tight on your arms as you feel his eyes scanning you over, and over, and over.

“you’re not hurt?” he asks, voice quiet and clipped.

“no,” you shake your head.

“not even a little?”

you shake your head again, pursing your lips this time to keep the sob from pouring through.

still, he sees it, and he pulls you to him, cradling your head in his large, warm palm, the other arm wrapping around your middle.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, light, into your cheek even as you let out a bitten off sob against his chest.

you hiccup, curling your fingers into the material of his shirt, "i — i couldn’t do it,” you say, squeezing your eyes as he holds you to him and lets you cry.

“i — i couldn’t kill him.”

zoro sighs, pulling back to smooth a hand over your hair, bringing it down to cup your now tear-stained cheek.

“yeah, i know. but that’s not what your hands are made for,” he says, letting his own hands trail down and down and down, till he’s got both of your palms cupped in his like a wishbone.

“don’t you get it?” he asks, staring down at your palms, upturned against his, “these hands were never made for taking lives…” he looks up, his eyes too bright in this borrowed darkness. and then, he smiles.

“they were made for saving lives instead.”

confessions, part i.

you stare at him for a full ten seconds before letting your body fall laxed into a soft, bubbling fit of champagne-colored laughter.

“i love you,” you say, the words tumbling from you, more truth than any story or poem or legend or myth either of you have ever heard.

“i love you, zoro,” you say again, tasting the words on your tongue like fireworks, like pop-rock candies, like the first, stinging breath of autumn after the hazy veil of summer has finally lifted. and slowly, in the clarity and truth of your declaration, you think you can see his lips as they lift up in an open-heart smile, as he too tastes the words you’ve just so recently mustered the courage to say.

confessions, part ii.

zoro stares back, and or a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. then, for too long. and you think you’d made a mistake, telling him how you feel. but then, he smiles ��� a true smile, a smile that lights up his face and erases all the grooves and lines that should’ve been worn there by the weathers and weights of hardship.

and still, listening to your words, he smiles — a smile that makes him nothing short of incandescent.

he nods, squeezing your hands in his.

“i love you too.”

false start (redux).

every story as a beginning, a middle, and an end. though not necessarily in that order. and, looking back, roronoa zoro knows that if he had to pick, his story probably begins here — at the ripe age of eight, in a doujou nestled next to a forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth.

it probably starts with an endless parade of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

its true — it could be said that his story starts with kuina, the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, who was better at swordcraft than zoro thought he ever might be. and to some, this is a good enough kind of beginning to latch on to.

but no, zoro knows, because he knows himself now, and he knows that stories, just like swordsmanship, is an art that requires a certain amount of tempering. a certain degree of trimming and tailoring. a certain kind of articulation.

so he’s certain that it starts here, when he’d seen you for the very first time. and it’s true, you’d seemed like nothing special then, just another quiet little girl who’d been forced into the doujou by some faceless set of rigid, expectant parents, and you’d worked just as hard as you could have, given your natural inclination for anything but sword play.

he’d known that you’d never be great shakes at swordsmanship, but still, he’d found himself drawn by and to you, as a magnet would a compass rose, as one might find their destiny, or their soulmate. he had found his eyes tracking you whenever you weren’t looking, found himself watching as you’d patter around after sparring practice to ask everyone how they were feeling, to dig your tiny fingers (strong and dexterous as they already were) into a knot here, an aching muscle there, a pinched nerve that might’ve been really bad if not found here, and left to fester in that vast, horrible elsewhere.

but he’d been a shy, quiet, kind of boy, absorbed by his sport. and kuina’s skill was more than enough for one growing, teenage boy to contend with without worrying about the strange attraction he had towards perhaps the least “swordsy” person in the entire class. and so, he’d never plucked up the courage to talk to you, never questioned when you’d kept away from his side of the classroom after sparring practice, when all the other girls would flutter around him like a flock of unwelcome pigeons, asking if he wanted to be their stretching partner.

then, the morning came when shimotsuki-sensei had informed him in not so many words that kuina was gone. and the funeral had slipped by in a hazy blur of bodies and incense, and the next thing he knew, he was holding the wadou ichimonji, and sensei was saying something about keeping kuina’s dream alive.

he’d seen you flit from the funeral march of black-clad children, shadow-dark and raven-quick, right off into the thicket of trees. and he’d followed you, because he couldn’t think of a place he’d like to be less than back in that suffocating practice room with all his fellow classmates, half of them casting him curious looks, the other half avoiding his gaze like the literal plague.

he’d followed you to the clearing, and watched as you’d sprinted, screaming around the field of tiny, white-petaled flowers until you slumped down, panting with your face upturned to a sea-breeze sky. he caught himself before he could burst out laughing (or crying, he wasn’t quite sure which he wanted to do more at that moment), and he’d forced himself to sit still behind the trunk of a large tree and watch as you pushed yourself up. the light of the dying sun washed your figure in a great, dream-like ream of orange and gold.

then, just as it seemed like you were going to head back, he spotted you spot the injured fawn, curled into the gnarled roots of a sapling cypress tree. and he’d watched still as you slowly approached the creature with a handful of peanuts before distracting it and crack — he’d heard it clear across the clearing — the sound of a bone being set back into place.

the fawn had screeched and bolted to it’s feet.

but you were just as fearless as you always were, holding out your palm with more peanuts, and zoro had watched, with a mounting fascination coiling in the base of his stomach, as the fawn dug its nose into the palm of your hand.

he’d seen the brilliance behind your eyes, heard the bell-toll sound of your soft, everlasting laughter.

and he vowed, then and there, to become the greatest swordsman he could be, the greatest swordsman in the world, if only to protect you from those who might hurt you. from those who might threaten to take away the light — the life — that thrummed, ever present, in the palms of your very own hands.

a/n: i know, i know, there was an authors note before. but i feel like i can explain this better now that you've read the fic -- to me, the story of "butterfly lovers" is and always has been as story of someone pretending to be someone they're not, right? so in that sense, you/reader was just trying to fit into a mold that wasn't quite made for her before discovering her true calling as a doctor. and the fluff and romance was that, unbeknownst to her, zoro's known that this entire fucking time. u__u anyways. i hope you enjoyed. bless up and simp zoro, fam.

opla!zoro requests are open!

[thechaoticplayer]

politely requesting possessive sex with melo and hex where they fucking fight over the reader and try to get her to say their name instead of the other please i am so feral for them

Author's note: whore 🤡🤡🤡 bro said I'm taking two at once that's crazy (btw I tried to make it longer for u but yk I suck)

Summary: possessive sex with lady meloco and sir hex who are in a damn competition to see who's name comes out your mouth first bc siblings are like that

Contains: nsfw content, possessiveness, praise, x fem reader, meloco x reader x hex, disgusting and pathetic smut again, very tiny degrading, 2 rounds, blowjob, pussy eating etc None of my works are proofread my kitten whiskers

You didn't exactly remember how you got in this position, sat in front of a mirror and being forced to watch as MELOCO KYORAN plays with your bundle of nerves, while you sit impaled by HEX HAYWIRE's girth with the occasional thrust up into your core that made you see stars.

"You feel good, pretty girl?" Melo asks with a small pinch that makes you whine in response. "Awww, so cute. Only I could ever get those noises out of you."

The last sentence targeted at Hex who simply scoffs. And with a thrust, you slap a hand over your mouth with a moan. "Sure, you can get her to whimper and whine, but i can get her to moan."

Melo glares at Hex, who glares back. You could feel the tension start to rise in the room, and sweat behinds to collect on the back of your neck. You would know what happens next.

Both start leaving marks and kisses down your soft throat, not even going easy on you. The harsh bites left you gasping, face reddening as they suckle on your flesh, all the while seeming to growl at each other like territorial animals. You couldn't do much about it, since it was they who could decide when you can cum. Melo was still toying with your clit, the incoming orgasms slowly approaching.

"Well if you think you can such sounds out of her, can you get her to say your name?" Melo cooes, massaging your clit at a faster rate.

You choke back a sob, resting your head back onto Hex's back. A low groan escapes his lips as he feels you squeeze around cock. Just as you feel the knot in your stomach about to snap, her fingers pulls away.

"I can get her to say my name before yours," Hex declares, the reason why Melo's fingers were now in the air and not in between your legs was him, who at the very last second snatched it away. Your essence dripped down her fingers and Melo jerked her hand out of his grip, sticking a tongue out at him before licking up the juices.

"Please..." you plead softly, squirming on the therapist's lap.

"Oh... fuck, princess give me a second," Hex whispers in your ear, before rising to his feet and bringing you with him. The sudden movement against your sensitivity causes you to whine in slight protest.

In a flash, the exorcist takes her place before you, squishing you in between the two student council members. One of her hands cups your bare breast, her thumb brushing over the hardening nipple and the other back to your swollen cunt. Hex still deep inside, chuckles in your ear.

"She was mine first, I set my eyes on her first," Melo says, narrowing her eyes at Hex.

"Well, you weren't the one who made the first move, did you now?" Hex counters, with a roll of his hips. Your eyes flutter shut, trying to suppress any noises from further slipping.

"Well, i touched her first!"

While they were bickering back and forth, your core drips onto the floor, embarrassingly so. Still sheathed in Hex's cock with occasional thrusts and Melo's ministrations on both your clit and nipple, only amplified the rejected orgasm. You begin panting like a bitch in heat, bucking into either with a soft whimper.

"What's wrong pretty girl?" Melo suddenly asks, her hand now tilting your chin up to look at her as tears form in your eyes. "Aww, you want to cum right?" You nod desperately. "Maybe if you moan my name first, I'll let you cum first."

Hex practically rolls his eyes back into his skull, slowly exiting your entrance before slamming hard back into you, his hands tight on your hips to keep you from falling forward. You cry out, gripping onto the excostist's shoulders for stability.

"Cmon love," Hex says into your ear, hands traveling your sides. "Say my name."

"No, say mine."

Your breaths get heavy as both begin to fuck into you at the same time, Melo trapping your mouth in a passionate kiss as Hex takes possession of your throat once more. His slow thrusts into you and her skilled fingers rubbing circles against you.

"She's mine," Hex growls at his classmate, slapping your ass to make you squeal against her lips.

"No, she is not!" Melo argues, bending down slightly to pop a nipple into her mouth. Your eyes roll back from the immense pleasure growing in the base of your stomach. You grip Melo's hair to press her further into you, and you reach up to Hex's face to caress it shakily.

Both seem to pause for only a moment, realizing you refusing to pick a side.

"What a naughty naughty girl you are," Melo tsks, drawing away from your swollen nipple. "Come on, cum for me."

Hex's shoves himself deep into you, nearly brushing against your cervix. "Cum for me too, darling."

Your cries increase in volume as you throw your head back against the taller, panting and moaning as the two make quick work of you. In a matter of seconds, the cord inside you snap as you released hard all over both Melo's hand and the therapist's length. Even more of your essence dripped onto the floor.

The two of them pull away, Hex's girth slowly dragging against your walls as he holds you upright. Melo cleans of her fingers, eyeing you like a cat would a mouse.

"Kneel," both the therapist and exorcist says in unison.

You look between them in a half dazed, half confused state. "...what?"

"On the floor, princess," Hex repeats, pushing down on your shoulders so you naturally give in, sitting in your own puddle of arousal. He moves to stand in front of you, his cock right in your view and in vicinity. "I want you to suck me off love."

"And i..." Melo drops to the floor as well, lays down and gestures to her face. "Come down here so you can sit on my face."

Your face flushes. What a dirty, dirty thing they had come up with! Round two already? You tried your best to ignore the growing flame in the pit of your tummy, squeezing your thighs together.

"Cmon princess, we don't have all day," Hex gently chides and you slowly get up and over Melo. "Good girl."

As you were about to carefully seat yourself on Melo's mouth, she grips your thighs, sharp nails digging in and shoves you down. A moan rips from your chest, mouth open and Hex took the opportunity to slide his cock in your mouth.

Hex groans at how good your mouth feels, pistoning in and out of your mouth easily, his fat tip already leaking pre cum and hitting the back of your throat each and every time. It almost made you gag a couple of times, tears running down your face.

Melo makes a mess out of your pussy, slurping all your arousal and sucking hard on your clit. Her tongue flicks in and out of your entrance and you clench around seemingly nothing. Melo moans into your scalding pussy and this shoots electricity up your spine, eliciting a moan out of your around Hex's dick.

"Fuck," Hex groans, grasping your hair hard as your eyes flutter shut. "Who's a good slut, hmm? Moan for me. I know you have a lot in your mouth right now sweetheart, but cmon, moan my name for me."

Teeth grazes your clit and you nearly jump. Clearly, Melo physically voiced her opinion as well. You knew she wanted you to moan her name, not the therapist.

You suck greedily on Hex's length, getting an approving hum in reward. Melo spreads your folds wider, tongue licking a stripe up your cunt. You ride her face hard, and received another approving hum from the exorcist this time.

Yet again, another orgasm tears through your body, causing you to shudder from head to toe with a drawn out moan. Melo helps you ride out your orgasm, her rough sucking decreasing to small kitten licks, cleaning you up.

Hex helps you dress again as Melo continues cleaning you up, exchanging glances with one another as you try to regain your breath.

"She didn't say either of our names today," Melo notes, letting you rest your head in her lap and she rubs your shoulder.

"That's alright," Hex responds simply. "We'll get her to next time."

Your eyes visibly widen at that.

What the hell does he mean, next time?

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Okay I have just binged your Favours ettore works and 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 I love the way you write so much, it just— idek how to explain it, but it’s just so elegant and fluid, does that make sense????

Anyway, I have not been able to get it out of my mind no matter how much I try, but I keep wondering how ettore would react if he were ever to get jealous?? Bc I def see him as controlling/dominant still like how u were explaining in the first kiss Drabble and the fact he is jealous over the box ! It just sends my mind in a frenzy to think what would he do if he were actually jealous of someone!! If u don’t want to take this request, no worries, I just wanted to voice the idea!!

Again, I am so in love with ur works and appreciate them beyond belief, thanks for writing all these fantasies out for us 💕💕 I hope ur doing well and staying safe

Hello! Sorry for the long wait for this. I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: Language, violence, choking, smut. Word count: ~1500

The ship has been in sleep mode for less than an hour when she feels the weight of her bunk dip beside her and the lean hardness of Ettore’s body press against her back.

“Did anyone see you?” She whispers.

“No.” Comes his curt reply, his fingertips biting into the swell of her hip.

She exhales a shaky sigh, heat pooling between her legs as he grinds against the curve of her backside. Parting her thighs on instinct, as his hand snakes between them to drag her underwear to the side, she bites her lip to stifle the wanton moan that almost escapes her as Ettore pushes inside of her.

She clutches the pillow beside her head, her grip vice like at the pleasurable hurt of the initial stretch to accommodate his size. Once fully sheathed within her, he wraps a hand around her throat, pulling her flush to his chest as he sets a relentless pace, his hips snapping rapidly against her.

This is no gentle lovemaking, merely a means for both of them to get off, as per their agreed arrangement.

They remain in the same position for a few moments afterwards, both silently getting their breath back.

“Same time tomorrow, yeah?” He murmurs against the shell of her ear.

She nods. “I’m on daytime work duty with Monte this week, so yeah.”

He tenses up behind her, but with how swiftly he pulls out and leaves the cell, she is sure she must have imagined it. Closing her eyes, she allows sleep to take her, lulled by the satisfying ache between her thighs.

The next day she stands in the galley, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she sniffs the open packet of powder she’s about to dump into the vat of boiling water to prepare the crew’s afternoon meal.

“The food is definitely more edible when you don’t have to see how it’s prepared.” Monte says with a smirk.

She laughs. She likes Monte, he’s easy to talk to and far less intense than most of the others on board the ship. If he suspects anything is going on between her and Ettore, he hasn’t said anything, even after hearing Ettore call him a cockblock, and she is hugely appreciative of his silence.

“Not excited for…” She lifts the packet to read what’s been stamped on the silver foil. “...beef chilli?”

Monte scoffs, taking the package from her and upending it into the boiling water. Both of them watch as it fizzes and expands, looking completely unappetising.

“I’m gonna go sort things out in the scullery.” She tells him. “You okay to finish that off?”

He fires her a mock two fingered salute as she steps backwards. Her arms reach behind her head as she moves away, eager to fix her rapidly loosening ponytail.

“Fuck!” She mutters as she feels the elastic snap around her fingers.

“You good?” Monte calls to her from over his shoulder.

“Yeah, hair tie snapped is all.” She sighs, holding her hair away from her face.

He wipes his hands on his trouser legs, and turns to face her. “Here, let me.” He offers, beckoning her closer.

He takes the snapped elastic from her and she allows him to spin her around as his fingers work deftly to pull her hair back and knot the broken elastic around it. “That should hold until you can replace it.”

“Thanks.” She says with a smile.

She’s about to continue towards the back of the galley, where the scullery is located, when she hears the door crash against the wall with the force of which it’s been thrown open.

There is barely time for her to register the blur of movement as Ettore throws himself towards Monte, knocking him to the ground and punching him.

A sickening crack causes her to gasp and she crouches beside the pair as they scuffle, attempting to pull Ettore off of Monte, who has now managed to land a blow of his own to Ettore’s face.

“Get the fuck off him!” She cries out to Ettore, tugging desperately at his shoulder. 

He throws his elbow back, attempting to shake her off, and it connects with her jaw, sending her reeling backwards with a cry of pain.

It’s only then that Ettore stops, looking back at her, and for the briefest of moments she sees panic in his eyes. He is quick to climb to his feet and leave, while Monte remains on the floor holding his face.

She crawls towards him, her eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Prick broke my nose.” He utters. “I need to go to the med bay.”

She winces as she watches Dibs reset Monte’s nose, which is in fact broken. Her heart constricts when Dibs inquires as to how this happened.

“A pan fell from a shelf in the galley.” He tells her. “Caught it with my face.”

Her jaw drops in disbelief. He’d lied. She cannot understand why Monte would do such a thing, but the relief she feels is immeasurable.

Dibs doesn’t seem like she quite believes Monte’s explanation, but doesn’t push any further, allowing them both to return to their work duty.

She seeks out Ettore after lunch, finding him skulking in the laundry room, a bright red split now decorates his lower lip.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” She hisses angrily.

Ettore grunts in response, slamming the door to a washer closed.

“Answer me!” She shouts in frustration after a few moments.

He rounds on her with such rapidity that she takes a fearful step back, until he is crowding her space. He reaches up a hand to trace his fingertips over the side of her face.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks softly. “I haven’t hit you since we started…you know…I know I’m not supposed to.”

She has to bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it, it’s like listening to a child explain why they ought to look both ways before crossing the street.

“You didn’t.” She tells him. “But you broke Monte’s nose. Why?”

Ettore pulls back with an offhand shrug. “He was touching you.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “Are you for real?! We were on work duty together. My hair tie snapped!”

“You could’ve been put on work duty with Mink or Boyse.” He scowls. “Don’t see why it has to be him.”

“Oh my god, you’re jealous!” She rolls her eyes.

Ettore’s jaw ticks, he exhales in irritation. “Do you have any idea what the blokes on this fucking ship would do to you, given half the chance?”

“You are jealous. Fucking hell, that’s pathetic.” She says in disbelief with a shake of her head.

He crowds into her space once more, backing her against the wall as he stares into her eyes, cold and predatory. “You’re mine.”

The words send a shiver of arousal through her and she makes no attempt to stop him as he yanks at the waistband of her scrubs, tugging them down her legs along with her underwear, before pulling down his own.

She cries out as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between her neck and shoulder, the pain serving to further ignite the heat building in her lower belly. She knows she should fight him off, be angry with him for attacking another crew member, but his possessiveness of her fuels her desire for him. She needs this. 

Their movements are hurried and desperate, his grip rough as he tugs her leg over his hip, the force with which he thrusts inside of her causing her head to tip backwards as it takes her breath away.

He fucks her against the wall as though he is trying to push her through it. His grip on her will surely leave bruises in its wake, his head is kept buried into the crook of her neck, where he had bitten just moments before. The only sounds are the soft hum of the washers and dryers, intermingled with the lewd wet noise emanating from where their bodies meet and their quiet pants and sighs.

It doesn’t take long for Ettore to reach his end, spending inside of her with a full body shudder. She doesn’t mind that she hasn’t been brought to peak, there is something so primal and urgent about allowing him to claim her like this that makes her feel as though all of her nerve endings are tingling with electricity.

Slowly he pulls away from her neck, breathing heavily as he rests his forehead against hers.

The moment is short lived, however, as the scuffle of shoes on the linoleum alert them to the presence of Boyse, who stands staring wide eyed with shock before hurrying back the way she’d come.

They’d been caught.

Series masterlist

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Hi!! I was wondering if u could do smth ab Richard sterling x servant/butler g/n reader!! What can I say …I like my men a little 😈

I saw lady richard and god her boob I mean her knightness.... ngl I love this guy so much that no matter what body he has he just so vbhfvbhfhbfvbhvfb I'm normal

Rated: Explicit | Warning: fem!richard, male reader, oral (woman receiving)

“Such a good puppy,” Her praises are smooth but lack sweetness, “Hm, oh, you are becoming better at this.” Her nail combing through your hair before she gets her grip and firmly tugs on it pulling you closer than you already are to her cunt. “Yes, good boy.” Tossing her head back with a breathless laugh as your hands on her soft plush thighs squeeze to the point she is going to delight in the buries— A perk of her body easily bruising— She moans out her princess’ name as she cums with a cute squeal and whine, “Don't bloody stop, yes, more!” You keep feasting on the essence of her quim, her cum sweet as to be expected from a narcissistic woman obsessed with her appearance and princess.

You get to pull away only when you start using your fingers, three knuckles deep; her legs release their hold locking you between her thighs. Take a deep breath as you watch her cum on your fingers, her hands gripping the fabric of your butler’s coat, her face so beautiful you almost forget how terrifying this woman is. How obsessive and possessive she is of her princess and you, her loyal dog to fetch and roll over at her whim.

“Take me, Bedivere, now!” Richard is desperate and will not be satisfied until you give her everything you have.

“Yes, milady.” Pulling out your fingers and lifting her up before laying her on the bed.

“You could've taken me on the couch,” Grinning as you open your pants, “Such a gentleman.” Teasing you for always having her on the bed when possible. You say nothing which has her pout for a second as you are selective about when to speak. “Go on, sheathe your sword within me, my knight.”

You raise an eyebrow before suddenly turning her around, snatching her by her hips, a smooth sharp thrust into her gripping the sheets and saying the name she gave you.

“So… Brutish, ah ha, Bedivere!” You know how to have her mind scrambling for words, “Ah!” A moaning mess as her arms are used to hold her in place as you thrust into her at a quick and deep pace. She knows you are trying to end this quickly before returning to your duties. There is shopping and picking-up deliveries to be done before it is too late in the evening to travel safely.

“Your voice, milady.”

“Fuck!” Her hair is a wild mess that bounces with each movement, her breasts rubbing against the sheets, and her mouth open letting her voice. “Good puppy! Oh, puppy touch me.”

“As you wish, mistress Richard.”

[comfort-questing]

"venomous bite"

for @whumperless-whump-event day 26... lo, i return

-

"it's all right, it's just a scratch. see?"

the shallow tooth-scrapes across their arm were still oozing blood a little, as they stepped away from the tumbled body of the wyvern on the ground, purple scales dulling now to gray in death. the marks didn't hurt much, just tingled oddly, numb along their skin. they sheathed their sword at their waist, clumsily, and wiped their off-hand dagger on the grass. huddled on the opposite end of the pasture the Smiths' huddled sheep gazed in mild-eyed confusion, still too shocked to appreciate their deliverance properly.

"you'd still better get that cleaned up," the farmer said, skeptically, leaning on his axe. "nasty mouths those monsters have."

" 'course I will." Cadia would be sure to scold them, for taking time out from real adventuring; but wasn't it just as real to help people as to go dungeon-diving? they tugged their sleeve down, wiping the blood away. "stay safe, all right?"

"and you too, youngster."

-

"wyvern in the hill farms," they told her, that night in the inn, over their shared plate of eggs and toast. they'd washed their arm in the pump outside to get rid of the already-dried blood, and put a clean shirt on. the tingling hadn't gone away but the bleeding had stopped, and their legs ached and trembled from the the climb. "it was eating the sheep. I got rid of it for them."

"wyvern?" said Cadia, her dark eyes narrowing a little under the blunt-cut fringe of her hair.

"yeah."

"careful with those things. and anyway, if we spend - "

"if we spend all our time doing random jobs we won't get to the mountains before winter, yeah, yeah, I know, you always say that."

Cadia, robbed of her lecture, paused and shoved some toast into her mouth instead. then, "you're all right? it didn't get you?"

"I'm fine. you know I can fight."

"no. no, I mean - they've got stuff in their fangs." Cadia rubbed a hand up through her hair. "and you're a close-up fighter. that was really dumb, doing that."

"stuff in their fangs?"

they could feel the rhythm of their heartbeat in the tingly pulse going through their arm.

"yeah. venom." abruptly she leaned towards them across the table, narrowly avoiding knocking their cup over. "Sel, did you - "

she always knew their face too well. just like they always knew how to finish her worried sentences. they sighed.

"just a scratch," they said, and stood up, or tried to; but the sudden motion seemed to jolt the fuzziness out of their limbs and up into their head, all of a sudden, and this time the cup on the table didn't survive their desperate lurch forward.

-

"just a scratch," Cadia was saying, half under her breath, derogatory; they wanted to protest, but the blankets weighed so heavy on their chest, the slanted ceiling of their room dim and wavering above them where they lay on the cot.

"miserable aspiring hero idiot. wyverns eating the sheep... let the sheep sheep their own sheeping sheep. what even."

the crackling of a fire, distant, and the smell of strong herbs and acidic compounds they couldn't recognize. they shivered, coughing, tight knots of pain grasping at their lungs.

"oh no you don't. c'mon, sit up. I'll help."

"Cadia. I'm sorry." they couldn't get more than a whisper out, their head spinning as they tried to sit up, Cadia's arm behind their shoulders. "sorry, sorry - "

"it's fine. you'll be fine. you're going to be fine."

"fine," they echoed, breathless. their fingers were numb on the blankets, fumbling to pull them closer against their trembling.

"yes. fine." the stuff over the fire was coming to a boil, hissing and bubbling. Cadia stirred the cup, murmuring something over it, whether superstition or calculation they couldn't tell. "it's nearly ready. I'll start you with this and go get the healer."

"no. you." healers meant money. more than they'd made from the Smiths' coin jar that afternoon, to be sure. "can't you - "

she wrinkled up her nose. "I'm not taking chances - unlike you."

-

they never remembered the healer being there, not really. only voices and sounds in the haze, and the dull endless struggle to breathe, and strange hands holding them up alongside Cadia's, and the numbness turning to burning pins and needles whenever they moved. the sharp pain chased across their skin and bit down, deep as knives and cold as the grave, and nothing could quite seem to wake them entirely.

two days it was, Cadia said afterward; two days of hell, from the look of Cadia's grim face when they next glimpsed it properly, in the half-light of evening with the candles lit.

"there you are," she said at last, her mouth working strangely back and forth, and then, "the Smiths sent us some wool, would you think it? we might as well get it knit up. hats for the mountains in winter, you know."

and then hugged them, fierce and sure, and didn't let go for a long time.

[aveegrex]

GREED

I wondered how Law would be entertained while in Blackbeard's captivity

genre: smut, short form pairing: Blackbeard x fem!Law word count: 0,65k cw: vaginal penetration, anal penetration, oral (f receiving, m receiving), group sex, free use, teasing, alcohol, food play, dom/sub dynamics

you can also read this on ao3

Blackbeard might be greedy, but he’s not the one to cut corners on spoiling his favorite toy. When all the loot is brought to him for assessment, he graciously gestures for Lafitte to put aside a few chests – the plaything fund as Teach calls it, purposed entirely for the rarest of furs and disgustingly huge jewels. All to dress her up in – that and nothing else, - and parade her around.

Status is his fetish, Law realized in one of her last lucid moments under his care. She’s been drunk on his barbarous domineering ever since, not once given a chance to think for herself. There was no need: he’d dress her up, decorate her, and hold her on his lap while feasting, a bird in the golden cage with bars fading in the sweet fog of pleasure each day.

Always wet is how he liked her. He’d plunge his thick ringed fingers into her slick, tease her clit with his gold and rubies, drink her up before sinking his teeth in meat. He sprawled her right on the table for his crew to see and feast upon, for all of them to grope and ravish her to their heart’s content.

They were rarely content, his crew. Mouths, each more famished than the one before, never leaving her crying cunt – she could now tell who was drinking from her without a single look, so differently famished they all were. Lafitte cautiously nibbled, taking his sweet time to drain her. Burgess ate her as if it was his last meal, making her cry in ecstasy. Shiryu tortured her deliciously, calloused thumb on her clit forcing streams onto his face as he lapped slowly, dragging his tongue over both her holes. Catarina only took what she wanted before sliding a strawberry over her engorged clit and savouring it.

Then he’d take her: he’d make her lean her soiled back on his chest, hoisted her legs up and the drag of his cock through her rim always robbed her lungs of breath. She’d whine, hazed, beg him silently for a kiss and he always indulged, while someone from the crew made her sopping cunt their home.

She remembered her legs trembling in pleasure, yet she almost forgot the sound of her own voice, throat bruised and hoarse of all the moaning and fucking. Sometimes Teach coaxed her to her knees, a docile little pet with her jaw falling slack to welcome him whole. Oh, how she loved him there! A gold chain wrapped tight around her column, he’d force her nose into his pubes, ridiculing her for the gurgling sounds. And the next moment he’d kiss and coo at her, praising her swollen lips. She loved his cock back, forever eager to show her devotion by swallowing it whole and looking up through tears. She kissed his cock back, rubbed herself on it, savoured his cum on her tongue with the widest smile.

He’d decorate her with silver and diamonds, and then toyed with her through the night, teasing her for how loudly the jewels jingled, threatening to invite more guests to her body. Guests that she’d never refuse, only welcome as her legs fell open.

He’d pump her full, sheathed balls deep while her feet dangled uselessly in the air, and she asked for more, always. “Use me more” she called, weakened hands grasping at his blurred stature. “Forever, yes” he’d answer, twisting her meek pliable body into another sweet contortion.

She might have gotten greedy with him, yes. He explored her so well she never needed to ask, only take what was rightfully hers. He fed her appetites with his greed, flushed her with seed and wine, loved her with tongue and gold. She never wanted to leave, he domesticated her. Now, he snaps his fingers, and her body knows what to do. Take all the spoils, obey, and most importantly – never think.

MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, it's not a sin if u like it

© 2024 AVEEGREX, all rights reserved.

reposting and copying my works without my consent is forbidden.

[huffle-dork]

Swap Across the CrystalVerse Chapter 17: The Bad End

Read Swapboys | Crystal’s AUs| You've reached a Bad End (Also on AO3!)

Read SITCV | SATCV Masterpost | AO3 Link

"You do look more like me wearing that," Chase comments, looking over Bro in his new clothes. "The hand-me-down look really seals it. Sorry if they don't fit. We have, uh, limited options while living in a cave. At least they're clean."

Bro laughs, "It's okay- we're pretty similar just… bigger… arms I guess."

"You can say bigger muscles- I think Chase's self esteem was already shot just by seeing them~!" Jackie grins.

"Hey! Don't be mean! It's not like… I'm showing off! It's just! What happens when you fight crime!" Bro protests.

Chase laughs. "Don't worry, I'm not too concerned about being built. I'm more of a long range guy."

Stacy pokes her head into the storage cavern where Chase, Bro, Jackie, and Sam are waiting. "Are you guys done in here?"

The two swaps look at Stacy and Bro tries to hide his blush at seeing her as he adjusts the outfit. "u-uh yeah! I think so!"

"Great." Stacy nods. "I found a group of people who are going to come along."

Someone else leans into view. They have short dark hair underneath a blue beanie and are wearing a black jacket and skirt with leggings. "Hey." They wave.

"Oh! This is Raven, they're one of those people," Stacy says. "They wanted to meet you."

"Not often you hear about people from another world." Raven grins. "Nice to meet you. I'm the magician."

"Oh! A magician! That's great!" Bro grins. "We could use any help we can get!"

'Nice to meet ya, Raven!" Jackie smiles.

"Heh." Raven smiles. "Happy to help. If you get paused in time I'm able to unfreeze you. That's why I'm coming."

"Oh awesome! That'll make this way easier!" Bro laughs.

"Stacy, are you gonna go, too?" Chase asks.

"Are you?" Stacy asks him.

"I, uh… I want to help. But I think it'll make the whole decoy thing hard."

Jackie looks at Chase and then shrugs, "If you stay with us and hidden- it should be fine! Once Bro starts using his powers it gonna be real obvious it aint you so-"

"That's true…" Chase muses. "Alright. I'll go. I'm an alright marksman, I can stay hidden from a distance."

Stacy nods. "In that case, I won't go. It's too dangerous for both of us to leave. Just in case something happens to one group."

Chase nods. "Alright. Where's Jack, by the way?"

Sam gets off the box They're sitting on and wraps Their nerve-tail around something inside. A small pen. They awkwardly write letters on the lid of the cardboard box. A-L-T.

"He's still with Alt?" Chase asks. "Huh."

Jackie frowns. "… I feel like that's been a long time."

Bro looks worried. "Do you think they're both okay?"

Chase bites his lip. "I don't think anything could've happened to Jack. You literally can't touch him, yknow? But… something could be…" He shakes his head, not wanting to say it in front of Bro and Jackie. "I-it'll probably be fine. If everyone's ready, we should start moving right away. Jackie, are you gonna come?"

"Yeah man! I can be moral support if anything. But, also like- whats the saying… better with numbers…?" Jackie frowns. "Why can't I remember how that goes-"

Bro laughs, "Please try to stay away from any place you can fall and break something, Jackie-"

"Nooo promises!" Jackie grins.

"You want a gun, then? Or a knife?" Stacy asks, pushing open the lid of a crate.

"Oh- a knife please. Imma a terrible shot." Jackie laughs.

"Alright, here you go." Stacy grabs a sheathed knife and hands it to him. "That looks the right size for you. Feel free to slash away, the corrupted don't feel pain and they don't go down easily."

"ooh- that's.. fun. Good to know." Jackie says, taking the knife.

Bro frowns, "huh… i gotta be careful then… I don't wanna like- accidentally… you know-"

"Accidentally kill them? You're that strong?" Chase asks with wide eyes.

Bro flushes, "…I dunno! mmmmaybe? I haven't tried to! I'm very against killing- but I usually try to hold back once I see someone in pain."

"Yknow, Trisha once shot Error point-blank with a shotgun and he got up again, I think you punching them really hard won't do that much," Stacy says. "Just don't aim for the heads. These are still people under all the corruption."

Bro nods to Stacy and wrings out his hands and wrists, "Okay… I can do that. I don't like aiming for the face much anyways. Broken noses aren't fun for anyone… Unless they deserve it. …Broken noses are meant for criminals not mind controlled people. There that's a new super law for me." He nods.

Jackie snorts and rolls his eyes.

Stacy laughs. "Great, good to hear."

"Let's head out, then," Chase says. "The sooner, the better. We need Bro to hang out somewhere with a lot of cameras for him to see, while the rest of us stay out of sight."

Raven nods. "I can keep up an invisibility spell for a while, but everyone will need to stick close to me, it only covers so much ground."

"Alright, good luck guys," Stacy says.

"Thanks Stacy- stay safe okay?" Bro says with a smile. Jackie gives her a two fingered salute.

“Let's go." Chase checks his gun, then leads the way out of the cave.

--------

The door to the room appears, opening up. Jack looks away from Alt and towards it, stiffening. His form is overtaken by white static until he's just the staticky outline he was when Alt first saw him. He puts a finger to his lips.

Alt jumps slightly and then curls up as Jack becomes less solid. He shakily nods.

Error walks in. He looks at Alt and grins. "We're going to take a trip. Come on. Please don't make this difficult."

As Error walks in Alt growls and bares his teeth at him like a feral animal.

"Oh, don't be like that, this is your lucky day! Though you don't think of it that way right now." Error leans down, still grinning. He's not wearing the hoodie outfit from earlier. Instead, it's some red and blue jumpsuit, torn and bloodied. "Come on." His smile drops. "If I have to drag you down there, I will."

"Go ahead and try fucker-" Alt spits. He grins as his eyes spark with energy, "You already know I'm pretty slippery."

"Because of your glitching? Is that it? Hmmm." Error hums. "You know… the Place has a way of taking you where Anti wants you to be. So, sure, you can try. You'll probably just end up where I'm taking you anyway." He flashes a sharp smile. "But if you insist." He grabs Alt by the arm and starts pulling him towards the door.

Alt yelps and then quickly tries to glitch away and out of his grip.

And yet, somehow, Error manages to hold onto him. The static swarming around his body buzzes around Alt's glitches, causing some kind of rough barrier. "Come on," Error says, adjusting his hold so he's pinning Alt's arms to his side. He doesn't sound bothered at all by the struggles as he drags Alt out into the hallway. The static form of Jack follows.

Alt cries out and tries to fight as much as he can. "H-Hey! What the fuck!! Let me go!!"

"Nope!" Error says, almost cheerfully. He continues dragging Alt down the hallway, which slopes and twists downwards. Cables start to appear on the ground, ready to trip people up, but he nimbly dodges them. "Come on, we're almost there!"

Alt feels his stomach drop and dread starts to take over him as he tries even harder to get away. "N-No! C'mon J-Jackie! You're Jackie right?! J-Just let me go man!!"

"I thought I told you before." Error's grip on Alt tightens to the point where it hurts a little. "That's not me anymore." He reaches a door made of metal and opens it up, dragging Alt inside. It's completely dark, impossible to see, but somehow Error navigates it perfectly until he manages to push Alt into a chair, forcing him to sit.

Alt cries out and squirms and kicks as much as he can. When he's forced into the chair he tries to see if he can glitch away-

"No!" Error sees him doing that and pushes him hard back, hard enough that Alt's head clunks against the back of the chair. "Don't you dare," he hisses, quickly grabbing Alt's arms and pushing them into the arms of the chair, where cuffs snap into place. He quickly does the same for his ankles, cuffing them to a bar connecting the chair legs, and then backs up. "Just wait here quietly, okay?"

Alt’s vision flashes white for a second as he head hits the seat. He then struggles and pulls at the restraints, really starting to freak out. Terrified tears gather in his eyes as he starts to heave in panic. “P-Please don’t do this! I-I don’t want to be a puppet again! Please!”

Error grins. "It's not so bad. Maybe you'll find it's different this time. Maybe you'll be happy." And then he turns and leaves the room.

Jack quickly walks into the room before Error closes the door. The room is completely dark now, but Alt can hear Jack's voice. "You're not alone, I promise," he says.

Alt is panicking hardcore, even Jack's voice doesn't calm him down. His eyes try to find any source of light in the room but there's nothing- its dark and he's scared. "J-Jack…! I.. I don't want to be corrupted…! I..! I-"

“I know, I’m sorry,” Jack murmurs. “I-I can’t stop him, a-and I’m sorry. But I can fix it. Just before you guys arrived here, I figured out how to uncorrupt people. But I-I don’t know how to stop the corruption while it’s happening. Only after the fact. And I’m so, so sorry. But I promise people are on the way to help. I promise.”

Alt feels his stomach sinking even more as he hangs his head and tries to hide his panicked tears. He… he has to try to look tough for whatever's coming… he can't show he's weak- but he's so fucking scared.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Jack says. “You’re not alone. It’s going to be—”

Then the door opens again. The lights flick on, revealing the corruption room, just like the one Surgeon showed Mag. Standing in the doorway are two familiar faces. Anti… and Magnificent himself.

“Hey, Alt,” Anti says, grinning as he closes the door.

"Hello cub~" Magnificent giggles.

Alt goes pale. "M-Magnificent…"

Magnificent laughs wildly and teleports to grab Alt's chin, tilting it back and forth. "Awww look at you, kitten! You look fucking terrible~ Scared out of your wits, are we?"

"S-Shut the fuck up!" Alt spits, trying to pull his wet face away from his grip.

Magnificent giggles and teleports back by Anti, grinning. "This is going to be so fucking easy. It's almost sad-"

"Easy would be good, this is never 'easy' in my experience," Anti says. One of the screens on the walls lights up, showing nothing but static, the speakers letting out the sound of white noise. Anti glitches over to a table and starts looking through the items there. "You should probably cover your ears, Magnificent. I don't think it'll be able to affect you so easily, but better safe than sorry. You get started while I decide how to approach this."

"Ah- Yes. I can do that." Mag snaps and puts basically magic earplugs in and then grins, slinking back over to Alt.

Alt tries to pull his head away but Mag grabs him by the hair and slams his head back, giggling. "Oh you poor beaten kitten… your mind has already been scrambled so nicely for me~! So broken and disjointed… It's like you knew to expect me!"

"Mag- f-fucking! Don't do this! You're really g-gonna let me be a puppet for someone else?" Alt tries to growl at him.

Magnificent just shakes head and laughs, "Why not? I want to see how it works~! And you're already such a good puppet for me, Alt… I think I can lend you away for a bit~" He flares up some corruption in his hands- not enough to completely block Alt's magic- but enough to make him weak. He digs his claws into his neck and spreads it there as Alt screams and tries to thrash against it. As he works a bright purple and green spiral looms behind Magnificent- soon drawing in Alt's eyes as Mag withdraws his hand.

Alt weakly lets his head fall back, panting and heaving in panic- but he's starting to do it less- the anger and fear fading from his eyes. Corrupted purple flickers in his eyes but- he tries to fight against it, weakly squirming in his restraints. "n-no… no I… i-"

Anti watches this happen, observing. It really does happen quite quickly. "I've been able to put people in trances before," he says quietly. "But they always shake it off eventually. That sort of reminds me of it." He nods at the spiral, at the way Alt's struggles are fading. "I can work with that."

The white noise in the air sounds less sharp than it did before. More… soothing, almost. Anti walks around behind Alt, carrying something. He snaps it around Alt's neck, revealing it to be a metal collar.

"Alright, Alt," he says quietly, but not kindly. "Here's how it's going to work. If you start to do something wrong, you're going to get hurt. Same thing if you say something bad. Simple enough, right? You can do that, right?"

Magnificent's eyes widen and then he giggles, "Oh… i like where this is going."

Alt snaps slightly out of trance as he feels the collar get snapped onto him. He weakly glares at Anti, eyes sparking. "L-Like i'm gonna just d-do what you say just cuz you ask me- f-fuck off!"

ZAP. Anti can't pulse with electricity the way Alt can, but he has other tools he can use. Namely, a taser, which he presses to the metal of the collar and switches on for a second. "That's a low setting, and I know you can handle electricity," Anti says. "But I promise it can get worse. And I'm not just limited to lightning." He tilts Alt's head back so he can look him in the eyes. "You don't have to fight it, though," he whispers. "You don't have to go through this." He glances back up at Magnificent and nods towards the spiral he has conjured, silently asking him to increase whatever he's doing.

Alt grits his teeth and stiffens in his chair, trying to hide his discomfort. He feels himself get tilted up and he opens his eyes enough to just glare more at Anti. "I-I'm not l-letting myself be corrupted by you…!"

Magnificent tilts his head and the magic gets brighter and hums with intensity. The pressure on the room increases. Mag grips his hand and the corruption on Alt's neck pulses and grows slightly, making purple flash in his eyes as he gasps.

Alt tries to shut his eyes, shaking his head. "No…! Nono-!"

"Why not?" Anti asks. "Remember, I've seen your memories. I know what you've thought. All these Antis out here, doing terrible things. You know that you're not any different. Didn't you try to kill your so-called friends a couple times?"

"T-Those weren't for you to see-" Alt whimpers. "I.. I'm not like that anymore- I don't want to be that anymore…! I'm not like them- I'm not-!" He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, trembling.

ZAP! Anti goes up a setting on the taser. "Don't close your eyes," he snaps.

Alt grits his teeth and bites back another scream. Alt instinctively follows Anti's order and his eyes find the spiral.

"Alright, maybe you're not like that anymore. But you remember what it was like, don't you? Didn't a part of you like being like that? Being able to do whatever the fuck you wanted?"

Alt’s shoulders almost instantly relax as the magic starts to spiral in his eyes. His head lolls back more as he breathes slowly. He leans a bit more against Anti's side, talking hollowly. "… i… i… d..did…"

"That's it kitten… relax… and listen to Anti," Magnificent sings sweetly, increasing the burning magic. "Just like that…"

"I know you did," Anti says, his voice laced with static. "But you feel so bad about it now. Guilt is a useless thing, Alt. All it does is make you feel bad. Life is so much better lived without regrets. Nothing is stopping you from casting these feelings aside and doing something that you like. Even if people say it's wrong, they don't know you. They can't know you. It's impossible to fully know someone, since you can't possibly have thought and felt and experienced everything someone else has. So, why do you care so much about what these people who can't know you think?"

"I… I don't… know…" Alt whispers, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. "…it… it.. shouldn't… matter…" His eye twitches and he tries to shake out his head, squeezing his eyes shut again as his head pounds. "n-no it m-matters it… it has to- I… I need to- be something b-better…! I…"

ZAP! Up another setting. "Better is arbitrary," Anti hisses. "Good and bad are constructs. Right and wrong are fictional ideas." The static echoes his words. "You only want to be 'better' because others tell you that you should want that. When you strip away those voices, Alt, you know what you really want. And I can help you, like I've helped lots of people before you."

Alt lets out a short scream now, clenching his fists and arching his back. He pants, eyes rolling in his head for a second before they find the spiral again. He starts to relax even more, even through panted short breaths. The magic glows brighter in his eyes as he whispers, "…what… I want…?" He leans his head back and sighs in pain, "i… i wanna be free…"

"Then let me help you," Anti whispers. "Let me free you." He puts one hand on Alt's shoulder. For a moment, he flickers, becoming a figure of black static. Something is in his chest. Right where his heart would be. It looks a little like a heart too, in shape. But it's not. It's a knot of strings, and one of those strings slinks down his arm and into the spot where his hand is touching Alt. Then he returns to his normal look, and the string is gone from sight. But it's still there.

Alt twitches a bit and rolls his shoulder where he feels the string but very quickly relaxes. His eyes glaze over completely and his fighting stops. "…free me, Anti." He whispers, lips hardly moving.

Magnificent giggles with glee, hardly able to stop grinning.

"I will," Anti promises. "Close your eyes. When I tell you to open them again, you'll be free."

Alt's eyes easily slip shut now, his head lolling forward to hang limply over his chest.

"One…" Anti whispers. "Two…" He reaches for the collar. "Three." And he snaps it off. "Wake up, Byte."

Alt's head slowly rises and he opens his eyes. Immediately- they are different. His sclera is now green static. The purple spirals still burn in his irises but… now its like- his pupils are glitching. They don't seem to want to settle, glitching across his iris and sclera in broken bits and pieces.

Byte leans forward and looks confused before his lips curl up into an unsteady smile. He digs his nails into the arms of his chair and starts to giggle. He's dazed- still seeming kinda lost and entranced. He falls back in his chair, letting his head hit the back of it as he dazedly giggles at the ceiling.

"…fascinating…!" Magnificent breathes, his eyes sparkling.

"Everyone reacts to it differently," Anti says. "I've given up on trying to predict how they'll act after the process--but somehow this feels right." He leans back, considering for a moment. "It might not be as well-settled as corruption usually is, but that was really fast. Worth the tradeoff, if you ask me."

"I think it was only so fast because his mind is already very open to my hypnosis. And… whatever happened with you two scrambled his brain and made it very easy to manipulate." Magnificent comments, crossing his arms as he studies Byte. "Still… I haven't seen him like this…"

Anti leans forward again, undoing the cuffs on Byte's wrists and ankles. "Hello there." He smiles at him, somehow managing to look both genuine and crazed at the same time. "How do you feel, Byte?"

Byte dazedly watches as he's freed, smile only getting wider. His eyes get a bit more of that unhinged look in them. He tries to glitch up out of the chair and then falls over himself slightly, giggling madly. He finds Anti's arm and grabs onto it, digging his nails in. "F-Fantastic-" He grins. "Fucking f̵a̴n̴t̴a̵s̷t̸i̵c̷~! And… and stabby- I feel stabby." Byte laughs more and looks at Anti with those wide glitching eyes, grinning like a maniac. "Can I stab you? I w-w-wanna see you b̷͚̂l̴̢̇é̷̠e̶̓͜é̸̯d̸͕͘d̴̞̑."

"Ha! Unfortunately, I don't bleed at all, despite this whole thing." Anti indicates the neck wound. "But we can go out into the city and find someone who will." His smile widens into an excited grin. He seems unfazed by Byte grabbing his arm, even as the nails dig in. He glances at Magnificent. "Guessing that sort of comment isn't normal, then?"

"Not at all." Magnificent replies, impressed.

"Can I bite them?!" Byte says excitedly, baring his teeth in a sharp grin. "That's what my name is now, right? B̵I̷t̶e̸!̸ ̵!" He snaps his teeth together like a playful predator, giggling.

"You can," Anti assured him. "Let me just find someone suitable. This will only take one second." He turned into black static and zipped away--and then, exactly one second later, he returned. "Well… I just saw something very interesting." He looked over at Magnificent. "A puppet who snapped his strings. My Chase is out wandering around. It must be some sort of trap, I caught a couple glimpses of people nearby. They must've thought they were hiding with that magician's invisibility spell, not knowing that some cameras can see through that." And back to Byte, grinning. "We can head out right now."

"C̸h̵a̴s̵e̷!̷ I know a Chase!" Byte says excitedly. "If there's twooo Chases- can I kill one, Anti?" He giggles. As he does, he's still glitching a bit in place- his normally bright green and blue glitches now darker and corrupted. Even his magic seems corrupted as he opens his hand up and summons one of his magic knives. It buzzes and fizzles with loud static and flickers between dark green, blue, red and black.

Magnificent chuckles, "That's true… that could mean our Chase is somewhere in there too. No doubt hoping to catch us off guard."

"Or! He can come back too! Two Chases! Two puppets~!" Byte laughs, bouncing on his toes.

"Two would be nice," Anti says thoughtfully. "But if it really comes down to it, you can kill the spare--the one not from this world. As well as anyone else with him."

The spirals in Byte's eyes pulse a bit at this, as if sealing in a command and he grins. "I can kill him. It will be fun to kill him~! And the others! Anyone I can!!"

"Oh this will be quite the show~!" Magnificent laughs, "My puppets wont know what's hitting them."

Anti flashes a smile. "Lovely knives."

"Thank you Anti!" Byte beams. He throws one knife out of his hand and lets its sink into the wall- then opens back up his hand and it flies back in a similar arc. He giggles. "They're m̸a̵g̶i̷c̵~̷" He then poofs them away and glitches around the room like he just can't keep still. "Can we go?!"

"We can go right now," Anti says. "I need Voice, but we can meet him at the exit. Hmm, I should probably take Error, too, just in case." He looks at Magnificent. "Want to join? The four of us together can probably defeat them all."

"Oh, my friend, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Magnificent chuckles.

Byte glitches to a stop, his hair spiking and curling slightly as electricity courses across it and his clothes. He grins wide. "I'll follow you! I still don't know how the Place works-" He says plainly but even that sounds a bit crazy and unhinged. Maybe its that wild look in his glitching eyes. He then blinks and looks to a certain corner and then points. "And what are we gonna do with Jack? He's watching."

Magnificent looks confused, frowning at the space and not seeing anything. "…what are you talking about…?"

Anti stiffens. "He's what?" he whispers, absolute venom dripping in his voice, thick enough to burn ears.

Jack has been watching everything. He'd wanted to reach out to Alt, to support him during Anti's attempts to corrupt him, to remind him that he's not alone. But then Magnificent had walked in and thrown him for a loop, and before he could recover, that spiral the magician conjured was blocking Alt's vision. He wanted to shout, to scream, but the moment the process started he froze up. It wasn't just Alt in that chair, it was Jackie, Jameson, Henrik, Marvin, Chase--all of them. All of his friends he couldn't help. All of his friends that he had watched get hurt and tortured and twisted beyond recognition and never been able to do a single thing about. The memory of helplessness locked him up, shoving him back into that mentality until it was too late.

Anti turns in the direction Alt was pointing and lunges forward.

Jack yelps, briefly flickering into view, and dives out of the way.

"Get b̵̨a̛ç̛k̕ ̸͠h͡e͟͠r̢͟ę̴̕!" Anti shouts, picking up a blade from the nearest table and throwing it.

Jack dodges it and jumps through the wall, disappearing.

Anti screeches animalistically--then glances at Magnificent and gets himself under control. "I'll… deal with him… some other time," he says through gritted teeth. "He can't be touched. He's just like a fucking ghost. Not important right now. Let's go. He's probably going to tell the group we're on the way."

Byte staggers back, fear flickering in his eyes. As Anti shouts and screeches, he curls up slightly- afraid of his rage.

Magnificent raises an eyebrow and then laughs, "Sore spot, I'm assuming?" He sees Byte cowering and grabs him by the arm and throws him forward. "No time to waste, Byte. You want your blood, don't you?"

"y…yes. Yeah I- let's go." Byte says a bit dazedly. He glances at Anti warily.

Anti takes a deep breath. He notices Byte's fear, and for a moment, regret flickers in his eyes. But it's only for a second. There are more important things to focus on. "Sore spot indeed," Anti says as he walks to the door. He opens it up and heads out. "Come on. We'd best hurry."

[andydrysdalerogers]

The ABCs of Nick Vaughn - "Q"

Pairing: Reader x Nick Vaughn (Before We Go)

Summary: Children its time to learn your ABCs. And Nick Vaughn is here to teach you the lessons. 26 glimpses in the world of you and Nick Vaughn

Warnings: S-M-U-T!!!! (under 18 please leave the chat!) descriptions of sexual activity including some themes of BDSM, loss of virginity, fluffy bits, pet name etc...

The new upload will probably be Sundays and Thursdays. Have fun kittens! Also, the tag list is open!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous: P - Possessive

ABC Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Q - Quickly and Quietly

From Nick’s POV 

I need her.  

I need to possess her 

My girl.  

MINE.  

Having her pressed against the door of her office, I can feel how hot she is.  I roll my hips again and she moans quietly. “We have to be quick baby.”  

“Nick, my office is not soundproof.”  

“Then I’m just gonna have to keep you quiet.”  I yanked her away from the door and put myself against it. I lift her other legs around my waist and then walk her to her desk. I find it cute that she refuses to leave her desk messy every night.  And right now, that is convenient. I lay her down and reached up her skirt for her panties. I drag them off of her and take a deep breath in them. Fuck, she smells good. She is panting on her desk, waiting for me. I smirk and put them in my pocket.  This is going to be fun.  I drop to my knees to get a taste and fuck is she already wet for me.  I guess I need to have her now.  

Your POV.  

Nick unbuttoned his pants, and you were ready, so ready for him to destroy you.  He gets his pants and boxers down low enough, so his thick member is out.  He’s dribbling and uses that to run over your slit. “Fuck,” you moan as he continues to tease. “I thought you said we had to be quick.”  

You see Nick’s eyes flash and you know you’re in trouble.  “Oh, my girl wants fast?” Before you have a chance to reply, he sheathes himself in you in one go.  You are about to cry out when he clamps a hand over your mouth.  “Quiet,” he orders lowly as he pounds into you.  It’s hard and fast, he’s hitting that spot inside of you with every punch of his member.  There is no way for you to be quiet, so Nick keeps his hand over your mouth.  He gets your legs to your chest, the new angle making you roll your eyes.  

And without warning, you cum around him, gripping him so tight it triggers his release.  He falls on top of you, breathing hard. “Sweetheart, are you ok?” 

You can’t even speak now so you nod.  Nick chuckles as he reaches in your drawers for the tissue he knows you keep.  He cleans you gently and helps you get back up and lower your dress.  

You look in the mirror. Your makeup isn’t bad, just the corners of your eyes, which you clean up a bit. You pull your hair into a soft, messy bun on the nape of your neck but otherwise you look ok.  You turn to Nick.  “Panties?” 

Nick smirks and shakes his head. “For my collection.”  

You frown. “I can’t go out there with no panties Nicholas.”  

“I’d keep my legs together, love, so nothing dribbles out.”  He opens the door before you can say anything and gestures for you to go ahead of him.  You go to glare but then he whispers, “I love you so much my beautiful girl.”  Now, you just smile softly and blush from his attention.  

You rejoin the party and Sadie gives a knowing look but says nothing.  Lance spots you again and frowns as Nick has his hand around you, settled at the top of your ass.  

The message was clear: don’t touch what belongs to Nick Vaughn.  

Taglist

@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @jennmurawski13-writes @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @atoosa22 @tinkerbelle67

[writers-hq]

Good morrow and well met, for we have scraped together 8 of the dirtiest bawdy (bardy) moments from ol' Shakey-pants' work.

Don't act so surprised. It's always been about the dick jokes, y'all. Do you know us but at all?

So, adjust your ruff, pull up your cross-gartered stockings, and let's get the fuck into it.

1. Much Ado About Nothing

Right from the title we’re dealing in double entendres. ‘Nothing’ is Elizabethan slang for vagina so it basically means: “a lot of fuss about pussy”. Cool. 

Then almost immediately, our first introduction to one of the protagonists alludes to him being a walking venereal disease: “If he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere a' be cured.” 

In return, Benedick swears he will never “hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick” and on it goes for 5 acts. Even BeneDICK’s eventual declaration of love includes a sex pun. “I will live in thy heart, die (orgasm) in thy lap, and be buried in your eyes.” Stay classy, guys. 

2. Romeo & Juliet

Just your regular tween romance in which thirteen-year-old Juliet monologues repeatedly about how much she wants to get Ro-Ro into her bed. Even the classic ‘a rose by any other name’ speech includes the line: “nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor any other part belonging to a man” fnar fnar. 

Oh, and she also dies (slang for orgasm) asking for his ‘happy dagger’ to rust inside her ‘sheath’. Yeah yeah, it’s a tragedy, but it’s also sex ‘n’ death right to the end.

3. Twelfth Night

Malvolio is the king of (accidental?) debauchery. While reading a (forged) letter from the lady he fancies, he declares: “By my life, this is my lady’s hand. These be her very C’s, her U’s and (N) her T’s, and thus makes she her great P’s.” Yes, that is how you spell **** and we’ll let you figure out the P bit. 

He’s also responsible for the most misquoted line by wannabe motivational speakers everywhere: “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness THRUST upon ‘em.” 

Yes, he’s talking about his dick.

4. Hamlet

To be or not to be whatever, but just imagine trying to sneak ‘c*ntry matters’ past the censors today:

HAMLET: Lady, shall I lie in your lap? OPHELIA: No, my lord. HAMLET: I mean, my head upon your lap. OPHELIA: Ay, my lord. HAMLET: Do you think I mean country matters? OPHELIA: I think nothing, my lord. HAMLET: That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs

Reminder that ‘nothing’ also means vagina. That’s a double whammy in the space of 7 lines. Kudos, sir. 

5. Sonnet 20

Elizabethans loved a nice bit of androgyny, and never more so in this poem whereby Shakey talks in detail about how his (male) patron is soooo pretty and delicate and feminine AF and he’s super totally into that even though nature added ‘one thing to my purpose nothing’ (psst he’s talking about the guy’s cock) and ‘prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure’ (still talking about cock) but that’s ok cos all the laydeez will ‘use’ his ‘treasure’ (cock). 

Mm hmm. 

Cue all the old man scholars arguing for several hundred years that there was absolutely nothing gay about any of this lol bless.

6. The Taming of the Shrew

An otherwise irredeemable play contains this arse-licking zinger: 

PETRUCHIO: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail. KATHARINA: In his tongue. PETRUCHIO: Whose tongue? KATHARINA: Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell. PETRUCHIO: What, with my tongue in your tail?

No further comments, your honour.

7. Henry V

Ok, buckle in for some Franglaise as the French Princess Catherine practices her English in preparation for marrying Henry, mispronouncing various body parts in a hilarious display of casual xenophobia. But the tables turn beautifully and profanely when she asks her maid the English word for ‘robe’ and is told ‘coun’ (gown) which sounds a lot like… uh… See you next Tuesday. 

Yep. Shakespeare really got the future queen of England to say c*nt live on stage. Bravo.

8. Titus Andronicus

Aaaaand possibly the first recorded ye olde yo mama joke: 

CHIRON: Thou hast undone our mother. AARON: Villain! I hath done thy mother!

Boom boom. Because he had sex wtih her. It’s about sex. It’s a sex joke. Okay cool. Bye. 

[angelamajiki]

(I'm from LATAM, sorry 4 my bad english).

Hi<3 I started reading some of yours writings about Yandere Tamaki and I fall in love with them.

They way u describe his emotions and "ours" emotions trough the history is so amazing aaaaa <33

I really like the concept of Y!Tamaki, but i never see it including a "mommy kink" kdjfksjflsje 😔👊 so i was wondering if u can do something with those ideas <33

Thanks in advance aaa<3

[ good boy - amajiki tamaki ]

CW: hybrids, sub/dom dynamics, aftercare, a/b/o dynamics, mommy kink, slapping, cunnilingus, mating press, breeding kink, mentions of murder and blood, omega tamaki, alpha reader, afab reader, yandere

AN: thank you so much!!! as always, enjoy the fic and mind the tags :) i combined a few other asks for this

Being a bunny hybrid had its perks. For one, an innocent face with floppy ears and a perky cotton tail kept him out of a hell of a lot of trouble. No high was better than the adrenaline rush of killing a rival for Tamaki. Protecting your honor, protecting your safety, protecting the love you had for him. Like your knight in shining armor, he came slinking back to you after the kill, tail twitching with anticipation for his return to you.

Watching you rest peacefully in his nest made his heart leap from his chest. Ah, but he had to clean himself before he could curl up with you. His precious kit, how he loved to be a good boy for you. After his shower, Tamaki dashed into the nest with you, pressing kisses to your face gently to wake you up.

His pre-heat had come not only a few days ago, causing his spike in aggression towards others and forcing him to lash out on the poor soul that dared to flirt with his Alpha on their date. Your nose sniffed out his scent, awakening you, feeling your hybrid thump his leg in the nest.

“Oh, is my pretty little bunny finally in heat?” you mused, stroking the sweet spot on the back of his neck teasingly. “Does someone need mommy to take care of them?”

Nodding earnestly, Tamaki stripped himself of his clothes, already feeling the sweltering heat burning his core from within. His little cocklet twitched impatiently, standing tall against his toned stomach.

Crooning softly, you took him in your hand and began to stroke, relishing in the way he whimpered ‘mommy’ so beautifully for you.

“Such a good boy, Maki.” you praised, gasping gently as he took a nipple into his mouth, whining as he sucked fervently. “Mommy’s good boy.”

You intended to make him cum at least once before letting him breed you. The poor horny thing had so much stamina to give. And you wanted him to use it all out on yourself. Continuing to stroke his cock, you rubbed his nipples roughly, pinching and tugging at the pinky flesh. Bucking his hips into your hand, Tamaki switched nipples and leaned into your touch, feeling himself coming undone in just a few short minutes.

“Oh? Does my little boy want to cum? You'll have to ask nicely, bunny.”

Gasping and writhing under your steady pace, Tamaki clung to your wrist with both his hands.

“Please, mommy, can I come? I’ve been good, I've been good, please. Please!” the hybrid cried out, not being able to hold back much longer.

Shushing him gently, you picked up your pace and rubbed your thumb over his tip gently.

“Of course, you've been a good slut today. Go ahead and come. Give me what's mine.”

Leaning down, you took all of him into your mouth as he came with a scream, gripping your hair in bunched fists. You rode out his orgasm, swallowing every last drop of his seed.

“Did you enjoy that, sweet pea?”

Panting and heaving, Tamaki nodded while shaking from the afterglow of his high.

“C’mon now, show mommy some love too. You'll need to prep me if you want to breed me, bunny.”

Nimble fingers gripped your thighs with a renewed vitality, practically ripping them apart as he dove his face straight to your dripping hole. Yours found their way into his hair as you pulled his face back and slapped it.

“Where are your manners, boy?” you chided, rubbing his now reddened cheek soothingly. “Don't make me punish you. Be gentle with mommy. I’m not your toy; you are my bitch. Understand?”

Apologizes flooded from his lips in the forms of whines as he nuzzled the hand, stroking his face. Reminding of what a good boy he was, you spread your legs for him and guided his head to your sopping cunt.

“Thank you for the meal, mommy.” he gasped out, driving his nose to your clit and tongue to your hole. Hands tangled in his hair while you pushed your hips into his face, relishing in the muffled whines. What a desperate boy he was. His technique was fast and sloppy, like he was afraid his snack would be snatched from him at any moment.

Praises and moans of his name flowed from your lips as you tugged on his soft locks, admiring the way Tamaki took suffocation by your pussy like a champ.

“That’s enough, Maki, ” you sighed, pulling his head away from your twitching lips. His desperate whines, albeit adorable, made you impatient. “Stop pouting. You'll be able to have another taste later.”

Positioning yourself, you got face down and ass up, presenting yourself to your near-feral omega.

“Mount me, bunny. Make sure to breed mommy well and give her a nice litter.”

Not having to be told twice, Tamaki quickly sheathed himself inside you, bottoming out in one stroke. Hips pistoned out of you at a fast pace as you gripped the nesting blankets for purchase. Gasping and crying out, your bunny let you know no relief as he began to rub small, right circles on your clit.

You wanted to chastise him for being too rough; mommy was supposed to be in charge! The pleasure was too intense, too much for you to handle as you were reduced to a puddle under your mate’s ministrations. Ah well. You could spank him later for his overzealousness.

Whining and sobbing, Tamaki kept a tight grip on your hips while slamming into you, letting his heat take over all else. Tears streamed down his face as he cried out for you, mind filled with nothing except breed, breed, breed. He needed to see you pregnant, swollen, and fat with his kits so that no one dared to believe you were anyone but his. He couldn't wait to fill his nest with your young, keeping you all safe and sound.

Mouth hanging open, Tamaki became nonverbal as he flipped you onto your back, pressing you into a mating press as he finished himself off with a few more strokes. He finished deep inside you, interlacing your hands while the other one continued to knead your clit until you came on his emptied cock.

Sitting in the stillness and the silence for just a moment, the man rested his forehead against yours, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before pulling out. Keeping your cunt upwards, Tamaki sucked your clit gently while fingering the leaking cum back into your now loose hole.

He continued his sucking and fingering until you came again.

“Come, sweetheart, let me cockwarm you while you rest. We’ve got a long week ahead of us.” you cooed, bringing your sweet boy into your arms as you crooned, stroking his hair and ears as he entered you again, plugging his cum deep within your womb.

Praises and sweet nothings filled his ears as he drifted off to sleep, savoring the aftercare you lavished him in. He really was your good boy, after all.

[meltwonu]

80. “Don’t ruin the sofa.”

            “I’ll just have to cum inside you then.”

83. “You can't tease me like that and expect not to be punished.”

notes; camboy!seungcheol, camcouple!au, cherrybomb!au, HEHEHE, dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, degradation, name-calling, squirting, daddy!kink! This is my official apology for posting that angsty lil fic for wonu’s bday KJDKJSFH LOL 😭 I didn’t think it'd be that sad but it was HAHA this is why u don’t see me writing angst fics very often bc I WILL go off the rails and make u cry ☠️ but anyway, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

*queued post

“Seungcheol…”

He huffs in response and tosses his things on the sofa; eyes trained to the floor as he rakes a hand through his blonde locks.

“Is he crazy? Like, actually?” He comments.

You pout back in return before taking a seat on the sofa next to his pile of things.

“Okay… So maybe Soonyoung shouldn’t have suggested a fivesome but it’s Soonyoung,” You chuckle; patting the spot next to you, “Wouldn’t be the first time he suggested we film something out of the norm, ‘Cheol. It’s kind of his job.”

He takes a seat by your side; body buzzing with both annoyance and sexual frustration when he looks at you. “Yeah, but doesn’t he remember we’re fine on our own? We bring in so much money and viewers just filming together! We don’t need, like, eight more people on set!”

An exasperated noise falls from his lips as he stares at the ceiling.

“We don’t have to take the script, ‘Cheol, it’s really not a big deal and I’m not gonna be upset either, okay?”

Seungcheol tilts his head to the side; the gentle smile on his face turning into a scheming smirk.

“Why don’t we remind Soonyoung what we’re good at, huh, baby?”

By the time Seungcheol starts the live stream, you’re already close to tears as the camera closes in on you with your legs spread on the sofa.

“Long time, no see, right? Sorry, we’ve been so busy filming at the studio~” Seungcheol sing-songs; licking his wet fingertips before easing down onto the sofa next to your trembling body.

xcaliburDK: what did u do to her

alphagyu97: goddamn did she already cum

chwenon: and we didn’t see it? Hateful

universe_WZ has donated $200

universe_WZ: for good ol times

therealchan99 has donated $100

sleepy_wonu has donated $150

You sniffle as Seungcheol tugs his laptop closer to read the comments - soft chuckles spilling from his lips at the way everyone talks about how much they missed you.

“Aww, baby, isn’t this nice? They still love seeing me ruin you like this too.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin at the way Seungcheol’s voice gets gravelly and you feel your toes curl and pussy clench around emptiness when he slides a hand between your open legs again.

“Sorry, I kinda got started before I turned the camera on. It’s been a frustrating day and I just wanted to feel her ‘lil cunt around my fingers before I fucked her with my cock.”

You let out a whine when Seungcheol’s fingertips glide through your soaked folds and you can’t even let out a noise of surprise when he immediately re-sinks two digits into your warmth in one fluid motion.

“You know what I could use after a loooong day, baby?” He curls and scissors his fingers inside of you as you cry out.

“You sittin’ on my cock and making yourself cum. But reverse cowgirl so everyone can see how fucked out you look when my cock is spreading your pussy open.”

The ringing of comments and donations only make your body warm up even faster - mentally agreeing with Seungcheol that, yes, you only really needed each other to film to bring in money and viewers.

“Mmh… Daddy, I want t-that… I want everyone to see my p-pussy stretched around your big cock…”

Seungcheol thrusts his fingers a few more times before he’s had enough; too blinded by the desire to be sheathed inside your warmth for him to tease you any longer.

“Well then? Hurry up and sit on it.”

You bounce on his lap, hands behind your back as Seungcheol holds onto them.

“Fuck, I can feel you squeezing my cock so much, baby. “But you can't tease me like that and expect not to be punished. You’re trying to get me to cum first, aren’t you? So desperate to feel me cumming inside your filthy, slutty ‘lil cunt.”

Mewling, you sink down all the way until he’s fully bottomed out inside of you before you start swiveling your hips atop his lap. 

“S-sorry, daddy, mmh, I--I can’t help it... Always feels suh--so good when you cum inside me... I want you to--to cum inside me all n-night...” 

He tugs on your arms as you whine; hips thrusting up and making your body jolt. 

“Fuck, such a filthy ‘lil thing, aren’t you? You want daddy to make you all messy and fuck his cum deeper into your needy ‘lil hole?” 

Nodding, you start to bounce on his lap again - loud moans spilling from your lips when the head of his cock slams into your g-spot with each perfectly angled thrust.

angelhan: that video you guys filmed with the professor role-play was hot af

artist8hao: I paid for the 4k version of the video it was so good 

tangerine_kwan: me too 😭

gentleman_josh95 has donated $75

kitty_junjun has donated $200

kitty_junjun: yo I got a bonus at work so I'm gonna be a big spender

You feel Seungcheol’s cock throbbing as you start to alternate between swiveling your hips and bouncing on his lap; hurried moans falling from your lips.

“Mmh, daddy I can feel how much you wanna cum... Ah, b-but don’t ruin the sofa again...”

Seungcheol smirks from behind you, tugging on your arms harder as you whine. 

“I’ll just have to cum inside you then, just how your needy ‘lil cunt wants, huh? You didn’t want me to move to the bed so I’d have to fill you up with my cum right here. You lied and said you were too tired to move, baby~”

You lick your lips; sultry eyes staring right into the camera.  “Sorry, daddy, I didn’t mean to lie... Guess you’ll have to punish m-me, huh?”

He grins at your back, knowing that you were just as close to him to an orgasm and also knowing that he could hold back when you couldn’t. 

“Mm, you want to cum so bad too, don’t you? I can feel your pussy getting so tight around my cock... You love knowing they’re all watching you in real time getting ruined by daddy’s cock, don’t you, you ‘lil cockslut.”

Letting out a sob, you nod feverishly - too foregone to even deny his filthy words when you feel your entire body start to tense up.

“D-daddy! I’m--I’m--!”

Your entire body trembles and shakes above Seungcheol’s own and you whisper rushed apologies to him when you drop your entire body weight on top of him in the midst of your high. 

He lets go of your arms as your back meets his chest and his cock is forced out of your cunt with the intensity of your orgasm. Seungcheol can’t help but chuckle darkly under his breath as you squirt all over him and the clean sofa underneath you.

“Fuck, baby, you told me to not make a mess on the sofa but look at you. Getting me and the sofa all wet… Tsk, guess I really will have to punish you now, huh? Just what you wanted, cockslut. I’m gonna have to fuck you even harder now. Daddy’s gonna use you like the cocksleeve you are.”

You stare right into the camera; eyes glazed over in lust when you feel Seungcheol’s thick girth against your lower back.

“Hurry and make a mess of me, daddy…” You whisper, barely enough for the mic to catch, “You still didn’t c-cum and I want it inside me so b-bad...”

1 New Message

From: Kwon Soonyoung

‘You could’ve just said you didn’t want the script 😭’