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sleuth-draws · 1 year ago

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LOVESICK (part 4) - Close to You < prev | next >

Vitani has been acting strange.

Well, she always acts strange; that's kind of her thing sometimes. But stranger than usual.

Kiara has noticed that her friend can't quite keep eye contact anymore, often darting away quickly. When Kiara comes close to nuzzle her, groom her, even just to chat, she's been insistent on keeping more distance than usual, scooching away with an awkward and very unsubtle clearing her throat. On top of that, she's being leaving the den at night more and more to pace and grumble. Vitani might think she's being discrete but Kiara knows her enough to be able to tell when something's wrong. She's started to worry that her dear friend has started to lose sleep.

She's more than familiar with the old Vitani -- the quiet broody lioness who most times couldn't stand to stick around the pride, more out of habit than preference. She's reminded now of that Vitani.

There's no one she's enjoyed seeing come out of her shell more than Vitani. Except Kovu, of course. But she loves getting Vitani to crack that crooked smile of hers, getting her to loosen up and see that there's no immediate threat to look out for anymore. Kiara never bore witness to the atrocities Scar inflicted upon the Pridelands but she thinks witnessing how her new friends have been affected by Zira's tyrannical reign is the closest thing to it. The lack of food, the lack of support, the lack of love. She can't imagine what that's like.

Kiara does realize her privileged position; she's the Princess of the Pridelands for gods' sake. She knows she could never come close to knowing what it's like to suffer this greatly or to feel the after-effects of cruelty. But it's all she can do to check in on those who have.

So when her training lets out at the first sign of sunset, she spares Kovu a halfhearted nuzzle before going off in search of Vitani as she always does.

She's not at the watering hole, nor the fields, nor in the shady spot where they play-fought just a few days ago.

Hm. The Guard must have finished late today.

Kiara heads back to the Rock to visit the lair and approaches just in time to see Vitani exit with Imara at her side. The two are speaking with hushed tones and standing rather close. Vitani ducks her head in laughter and Imara nuzzles her side.

A pit forms in Kiara's gut. Huh. She must be hungrier than she thought. Yeah. That must be it.

Before she knows it, she's trotting towards them, calling, "Hey, Vitani!"

Her friend perks up instantly, those big ears of hers at attention. She looks hesitant but smiles at her nonetheless. Kiara grins as she makes her way over.

Imara nudges Vitani with her shoulder almost smugly, before bidding her goodbye and offering a respectful nod in Kiara's direction just as she comes face-to-face.

"Hi," Kiara breathes, only a little winded from her hurried journey over.

"Hi," Vitani breathes back, though she doesn't look tired at all.

Kiara tilts her head at her tall friend. "How was patrolling today?"

"Eh, it was fine. Imara just left to report to your old man. Had to chase off some mangy rogue who thought he could flirt with me and the Guard. Unfortunately, he was stubborn enough to let things get violent."

"Ugh, he sounds awful."

"Oh, he was," Vitani barks out an amused laugh, "But I knocked him flat and he ran away scared."

"Ha! You sure showed him," Kiara chuckles, finding herself circling around Vitani. She does things like this sometimes, stalking around Vitani as if hunting -- and at one point, Kovu as well -- and she doesn't quite know why. At this point, she's reasoned it's simply a natural habit. "How lucky we are to have you to protect us." She leans in to brush their sides together, nuzzling her cheek to Vitani's. "I missed you, y'know."

Vitani tenses but that's never been atypical. Touch has always been something her friend found hard to get used. "Oh, I, uh --" She clears her throat, thrown off her game. "I-I missed you too." She shakes her head. "But you just saw me yesterday, Princess!"

"I can still miss you!"

A snort. "Yeah, right."

Kiara is about to shoot a retort back when her nose starts to itch and a loud sneeze interrupts her, startling them both.

"Yeegh," Kiara exclaims, shaking her head and licking her nose, "Vitani!"

"What?"

"There's so much dust in your fur! No doubt from that fight. You seriously need a bath."

Vitani bristles. "Ugh, no way." She shakes herself out, ears flapping almost aggressively. "Look, I'm totally fi--" When she takes a step forward, her foreleg buckles and she stumbles, catching herself with the other foreleg.

"Vitani!" Immediately, Kiara is moving in to assist her.

"I'm fine, Kiara." Vitani grits. "It's just a sprain, nothin' I can't handle."

Kiara looks back towards the fields. Her mother won't be back with food a little while. "Come follow me."

"But --"

"Don't argue with me. Come on." Kiara headbutts Vitani's shoulder and though Vitani grumbles the whole way, they walk up Pride Rock together. There, several lionesses are resting out at the entrance of the den, grooming themselves and each other and sunbathing while they still have a sun to bathe in.

There's a round of greetings when the pair ascend, including Tiifu, Zuri and, surprisingly, Kasi, who are dozing in a pile together. Vitani stares as they pass; Kasi looks away in slight embarrassment.

They find a spot somewhere nearby, still warm from the sun, and Kiara gives a look that makes Vitani sigh loudly and plop down. Kiara settles in beside her.

"Hmph, good. Now..." Kiara leans in and starts grooming the fur on Vitani's neck; immediately Vitani jerks away. "Oh, come on, Vitani."

"I-I-I really think I can do this myself!" Vitani stutters.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kiara huffs. "You couldn't reach that neck of yours if you tried!" She leans in again and when Vitani dodges once more, she reaches with both paws to ensnare her head and hold it securely to her. Vitani struggles but doesn't go so far as to kick at her with her hind legs -- a great sign. "Ha. Good girl."

Vitani goes ramrod straight. Kiara pays her no mind and starts to groom the tuft on her head. Slowly, her friend starts to relax, though she maintains the tension in her shoulders, claws digging into the dirt. Eventually, that too leaves her, pressure rolling off her shoulders till even her claws, trained to be out at all times in attack position, start to sheathe themselves. She breathes a sigh and closes her eyes.

Delight fills Kiara's chest. There's something precious about this. Being able to just lie here in peace with someone once considered her enemy and relax together. To see her realize there's nothing to fear, at long last. Vitani has been scared for so long. She might not like to admit, but Kiara knows. Kovu has told her the hardships they all had to face at Zira's paws, Vitani in particular. He'd been blind to it, at first, giving in to Zira's hate-filled rhetoric and training. But the months after the war had allowed the siblings to open up to one another, where they'd previously been emotionally standoffish.

Vitani was the one keeping their family together. Her closeness to their older brother as both of Zira's neglected children and her admittedly enforced love for Kovu was bridged by her need to do right by her mother. She amplified the admiration for her younger brother among the Outsiders, she kept her older brother in line, and, greatest of all, she was the perfect soldier. Savage and wild and bloodthirsty, eager to fight and, lucky for Zira, eager to please. Because, however small, that was the closest she would get to actual love from Zira.

A transactional, militaristic relationship.

And when at last she defied her mother, she was quickly cast aside.

Where Vitani had loved Kovu superficially, as taught by Zira, there was also the real love of being the only sibling who truly cared for him. They're twins, after all, as easy it is to forget, uniquely linked. That love was smaller, unfostered, buried away, but it was there. Her betraying Zira was what made Kovu realize there was more that needed to be talked about. How could they leave things the way they were? After they'd lost their only mother and Nuka, after not even knowing their supposedly shared father, how could they go on not truly knowing one another?

The months of healing did them well. While Vitani had been reclusive at first, there were times where she was seen with Kovu and she looked truly happy. Now, they're closer than they'd ever been, and Kovu happily recounts their visits together to Kiara.

It makes Kiara wonder: does Vitani fear being cast out again? Is that why she's been so aloof? Is she afraid that the peace is delicate, that it'll all fall apart one day and her value will be reduced to nothing once again?

Kiara will do anything to keep her from feeling that way.

An easy rumble in Vitani's throat draws her from her thoughts. She's nearly clean now, her usually unruly tuft smoothed into a funny-looking cowlick, but Kiara is reluctant to let her go.

"Something's been bugging you lately, hasn't it?"

Vitani's eyes open and, regrettably, a small amount of tension comes back to her. She's quiet for a long time, as if calculating her response.

"It's nothing you gotta worry about, Princess. I'll be fine."

Perfectly calculated, in fact. Something that says she shouldn't press or pry, even jokingly. Something Vitani wants to sort out herself. And as much as Kiara wants to help with this, to get her sleep and ease again, she has to respect it.

"Okay," Kiara settles on, "But if you want to talk, or need help in any way, you know I'm here for you, right? I always will be."

Vitani tilts her head and looks earnestly at her. Her violet eyes are soft, softer than she's ever seen them. A thumping erupts in Kiara's chest.

"Yeah. I know, Ki."

"I-I really care about you," Kiara finds herself blurting, "You're my best friend."

"What? But I thought Tiifu and Zuri were your best friends," Vitani says, surprised, "Or, Kovu? I can never keep track."

"No -- I mean, well, yes, they are -- but I can have multiple!" Kiara sputters, suddenly nervous and not knowing why. "The point is, I...I feel so close to you. I couldn't stand it if you were hurting a-and there was something I could do to help you."

The whole exchange gives Vitani pause and she's quiet for a long moment.

Then, miraculously, terrifically, magnificently, Vitani allows herself to nuzzle the side of her face into Kiara's chest.

"You're my best friend too, Kiara." Vitani smiles that lovely, crooked smile. "I...really care about you too."

It feels as though a storm cracks through her.

She's shaken, almost vibrating in her pelt. Her fur is warm, her mouth is dry -- what is this? She prays -- oh gods, she prays -- that Vitani can't hear her thunderous heartbeat. It would be awful of her to ruin this moment.

But what is it that's afflicted her?

And where did the air in her lungs go?

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fairymunson · 2 years ago

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The Right Somebody To Love

pairing: eddie musnon x chronically ill! reader

summary: you're already used to being alone on the battlefield, fighting a disease that plays foul, but eddie decides to be your knight in shining leather.

warnings: insecure reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral ( f receiving ), mentioning that people are total assholes, absolutely sweet Eddie, mention of medication, illness, but nothing specific, I wanted everyone to be able to identify with it

You were biting your pencil with nerves, correcting your faded skirt every now and then. And it wasn't because you'd overslept, it was because you were cradling it in your hands the whole time, nervous about your first day at a new high school. A new one. Another one this year. All you wanted was for them not to find out, so you held the sleeve of your sweatshirt tightly, covering your puncture scars. It was summer, terribly hot and you were barely panting in those suffocating clothes, but you sweated more at the thought of having to show your body. Your pulse began to pulsate in your head. Panic settled on your heart and gnawed at it vindictively, making you palpitate. You had the feeling that everyone was looking at you, exchanging communicative glances. For the first time, you felt sorry for the teacher being late for lessons. The whispers turned into voices in your head, shouting ''disgusting'' ''you're giving yourself a hard time, huh? ''you probably require some special treatment, eh?'', ''go back to the hospital, girl, no one will take pity on you here''. It's always been like that. From a very young age when they diagnosed your illness. At the time you didn't quite know what it entailed, guessing only that it was no good, looking at the frown on your dad's face and the tears of defeat in your mum's eyes. It was only later that it came to you. Not going to school, the constant hospital visits, the days, passing through your fingers, the infusions and the scars. More and more puncture scars. On your arms. On the stomach. On my arms and on my thighs. They were nasty. The healed ones and the ones that were still recovering, some more red, others brown and faded, but still awful. At least you've always been told that. Your eyes well up with unshed tears as you recall how, at your previous school, girls could be cruel when you dressed up for PE lessons. They treated you as someone inferior, just because you didn't have a smooth belly and a perfectly soft body; they laughed at you because you got tired faster when you ran or played volleyball, or when you hid in dingy corners to take a shot or change your clothes.

''Hey girl, why are you covering yourself up like that? It's hot in here, don't you think?'' Jason whistled at you, drawing the attention of the rest. Thunderous laughter filled the room. A group of cheerleaders giggled, measuring you from top to bottom. They sent you a venomous look, snorting contemptuously. You curled into yourself, covering yourself more tightly with your sweatshirt. Your nostrils moved as a sharp intake of breath escaped through them. You smiled for show, trying to play amused. Pretending that everything was fine, that his remark had not at all triggered the wave of uncertainty now humming in your gut; that you were not at all hiding the tiger-like scowls that made you feel not at all like a tigress and a warrior, but like a little frightened kitten, drenched in a rain of sadness and labiality. Hearing more nasty remarks, you run out of the room, ignoring the fact that you are already leaving the class on the first day. Your head is buzzing with questions about what they must have thought of you now. Why in the hell did you put up that crib? Now they certainly won't give you a break, thinking you're hiding some secret from which to get some good entertainment. You run through the hall, looking back, making sure no one has come up behind you to continue the rambling. Distracted, you feel after a moment as you bump into someone. This someone, grabs you by the shoulders, firmly but gently, pulling you away from his hard chest.

''Hey sweetheart, are you okay?'' You looked up, seeing a pair of the most gorgeous brown eyes. They were so big and soft, fluttering towards you with concern. He looked like Bambi when the butterfly first sat on his nose. Surprised but charmed and so pretty you felt like sticking your finger in his dimples and those soft cheeks. You took a closer look at him, gasping at the storm of brown curls framing his pretty face. ''Sorry, but I don't think I've seen you here before. Are you new? You've already managed to run into those assholes from the basketball team, I swear they're just a pack of motherfuckers and…''He moved in place, swaying gently from side to side. The chain hanging from his trousers made a noisy sound, matching your rapidly beating heart. You blushed, lowering your gaze. Wiping your cheeks with your hands, you sobbed quietly, trying to hold back the crying. In vain. Fuck, you couldn't even keep your emotions in check. They were right. They were all right. You were a failure. Why are you crying now? After all, they didn't do anything. They just hooked you, that's all. But the fear bug was crawling up your spine, leaving a slimy terror behind. ''Hey, hey, hey, baby. Why are you crying, someone upset you? Is it them?'' You shook your head, embarrassed by the whole situation. Shame hugged you to himself again, even though you wanted to break free from his embrace. Humiliated, you clamped your lips into a tight rope to keep from letting out your sobs again. ''Hey, how about stopping by my place after school? Or, if you don't want to, you can also come to my D&D campaign, I'm organising it here in the hall tonight…'' You gasped, rolling your eyes at him. However, after a moment, you lowered your gaze, picking at your nails again with nerves. You were afraid that he would discover the anxiety in your eyes. All your insecurities will be visible to him, and he will stop being interested in you when he discovers the truth. He'll see your scars, the fact that hanging out with you isn't that easy because you don't always feel like doing certain things. Often you're just lying in bed after yet another treatment, you feel like just snuggling up in a blanket and not coming out of it until you've had a cry of all your nerves and hidden emotions. Sometimes you are too tired after taking a dose of medication to even go out for a silly walk. Why does he need such a friend? Insofar as he wanted to befriend you at all, or did he just take pity on the crybaby who ran out of the room as if he had been tripped?

''You know, I… I don't really get to see you after school. '' You choked out, reminding yourself of another appointment with your doctor. An awkward silence, punctuated only by your isolated sobs, filled the corridor. You expected him to leave immediately, recognising himself as just another cry-baby. Although you wanted him to stay, you were too paralysed and buoyed by his height and that dark look to cough up anything. He reminded you of the frontman from some famous metal band you liked to listen to and you couldn't hide how captivated and charmed you were by him. What you didn't know, ba, you wouldn't have dreamt in your wildest dreams, was that this handsome man couldn't take his eyes off you either. From how sweet and shy you were, making him want to just be that shitty sweet boy and gentleman, just to see the smile on that plump, flushed face. He grunted, shifting to bow for you and pointing with his hand towards the canteen. ''In that case, I would like to invite a beautiful lady. Oh, I would be honoured if you would agree to have lunch with me, Miss.'' You raise an eyebrow, a little stunned by his drama and theatricality. When you didn't reply, he theatrically grabbed his heart, falling to the floor. You couldn't help yourself, giggling loudly at his foolishness. And so it began. That's how you met Eddie Munson. Your hero.

The trailer smelled of cigarette smoke and some stale laundry as you stepped inside, giggling warmly at Eddie's boisterous behaviour. He bowed to you and grasped your hand, placing a kiss right in the middle of it, pretending to be a knight. Just like the first day you met. ''My lady, princess of my heart, I wish to welcome you to my humble abode. Oh, damn, I gave the cleaning lady time off, wait. A lady like you can't make such an effort.'' He grumbled, seeing the scattered beer bottles and a few of his T-shirts on the floor, grabbing you quickly into his arms bride-style. ''Eddie! Let me go!'' He just laughed, spinning around with you, skilfully dodging the rubbish. He was a bit overly dramatic and theatrical at the same time, shouting that he had to save you from disgrace, finally throwing your body gently onto the couch. He leaned over you, wrapping you in his arms, which were now on either side of your head. His hair surrounded him like a halo, but his smile was devilish, showing his dimples and that ruddy curve of his lips that made your knees soften and your thinking turn white. You batted your eyelashes, feeling a flickering warmth in the pit of your stomach. You snuggled into him, letting the scent of his cheap cologne seep into your mind, making you into a sweet mush that only he could taste.

''My lovely girl, so beautiful. And only mine, yes? Just for me. All mine.'' He cooed, joining your lips in a faint kiss. Rubbing against him, you sank your fingers into the nape of his neck, drawing him impossibly close to you. His warmth, his hot breath, his lips licking yours, deepening the kiss with each passing moment. You moaned sweetly when, after a series of wet and sloppy licks, he moved to your ear, biting the lobe. He knew. Oh, this sexy bastard knew how much you loved it. How small and whiny a mess you make when he uses his hoarse voice, so different from the tone he uses to read you to sleep, whispering the filthiest things into your ear, reaching deep into your selfish, slutty ego with it. He just knew you wanted to be his little cry-baby bitch. He licked his clit before lowering his voice. Your pussy clenched helplessly at nothing, soaking your little panties. You rubbed against his clothed cock, and your skirt rolled up halfway up your trembling thigh, gaining coveted access to the leather material. He growled at you, feeling his penis flutter at this delicious contact. Oh, what he wanted to do to you. You trembled in his arms, wishing only for him to be by your side, driving your demons far beyond consciousness. ''Beautiful, we are getting naughty yes? Are we getting greedy? You're such a smart girl, sweetie, but when we use that dirty talk you're just a stupid and mindless slut, huh? Hush, baby I got you. Rub up against me, come on, you can wet my jeans, fuck me, use me just like that. I'm yours.'' Each successive word was laden with the sweet sucking of your ear that drove you crazy. You wanted to cross that line, you wanted to have sex with him. You wanted to do indecent things with him. You wanted him to undress you and worship your body, but then the insecurity returned. You remembered your scars, a few new ones, because you had recently started to feel unwell again and the amount of drips had to increase. As soon as you felt his penis pushing against your pussy again, hearing his dirty words and his veiny hand gliding towards your breast and pebbled nipple, you tensed up. The fear returned with redoubled force, weakening you. You and your enthusiasm. Your eyes glazed over, and you fidgeted silently. Eddie immediately sensed your anxiety. Fuck. He discerned every last wrinkle on your forehead. Every little grimace and wrinkle of your nose that he thought was cute. When you got angry, when you lost to him in D&D, when you failed to learn to play the guitar, he distinguished it from that frown that accompanies something nice, like when he picked you field flowers in the meadow, or went with you to your doctor for a consultation. So when you were too quiet and your body stiffened, he moved away, embracing you with a soft and sweet gaze. Damn. He was the death of you. He looked so pretty in the faint light of the yellow bedside lamp. His eyes glittered at you, with nothing but concern.

''Darling, everything's fine, yes? We're interrupting. I don't want to force you to do anything angel, okay? No questions.'' He kissed your nose, stroking the apple of your cheek with his fingers, cooing at how blushing you were. His sweet red beet. He bit his lip to just not start singing a tirade of love, coming straight from his heart, sharp on the sides but plush inside for you, marvelling at your beauty, tenderness and how pretty you were. So vulnerable and tiny beneath him. He respected that. Fuck, he'd be damned if he did anything without your permission. He would spit in his beard for the rest of his life if he hurt you. His most precious treasure. A tiny little bell. ''Eddie, I'm sorry…'' you muttered barely, limping away. You knew that once you showed yourself to him, there would be nothing left. The defensive walls would be torn down and you would be at his mercy. Defenceless, naked. You could lose him. Like all the previous ones who left you because they thought your wounds were ugly and only disfigured you, because you don't look like the women in the magazines with their big breasts and perfectly cut figures that aren't covered by any blemishes. Thinking about it, you clench your eyelids, fighting back unshed tears. ''Sweets, it's okay. You don't have to apologise for anything. You know that?'' Eddie felt bad for thinking you needed to apologise to him. God, he could have jerked off for the rest of his life if you weren't ready for sex and he'd still be OK with it. The important thing was that you were happy. That was all that mattered to him. ''Is it because of your medication? You've been taking them haven't you? Are you feeling worse? Baby, we can lie down, I can make you something to eat, although… I know you're not very hungry when you're taking them, so I'll just make you some tea, wrap you up in a blanket, turn on Black Sabbath or Iron Maiden and give you a little hug? Unless you don't want my touch right now, that's fine too, I'll do whatever you want, just tell me how you're feeling right now, princess, I need to know what's going on in your pretty head…''You interrupted his chaotic ramblings, almost crying from how much of a sweet boy he was. You kissed his parted lips, swooning at how soft they were. Even more than they seemed to be at first glance.

''Eddie I'm fine really, I'm just a bit scared.'' You muttered, dropping your gaze to his guitar pick hanging around your neck. You began to play with it, wanting to ground yourself at least a little to stop the doubts rushing in, and the coolness of the metal made it a lot easier. ''What are you afraid of, my sweet girl? You're safe with me, you can tell me anything, I swear honey. ''You want to be brave. You really want to. For him. But it's so hard. It's hard to trust someone when you've been cheated on and betrayed so many times. When you've had to experience hurtful stares and unfavourable comments so many times. Boys preferred to be with someone else after all. With someone you didn't need to be looked after, reminded of the medication you often forget, often in a crisis when you just want to pretend you're not facing a serious illness at all and everything is fine. But this is Eddie. Your sweet boy who, over months of dating, of sweet dates, of kisses exchanged in the back of his van, has never failed your trust. When you told him about the illness, he immediately wanted to know the details, not because he was nosy or wished to use all these facts against you to make fun of you; but because he wanted to know everything so that he could react appropriately if necessary. So that, despite his forgetful and noisy nature, he could remind you of your medication and be with you at every doctor's appointment. He was there, holding your hand and whispering tender words about how proud he was of you. He was wrestling with his thoughts. He hasn't seen you yet, not even your arms, because you're always covering them up with sweatshirts and sweatpants. And Eddie has never squeezed. Your heart fights against your stubborn and wounded reason and wins as soon as those little Bambi eyes flutter open again, pulling you from the embrace of anxiety.

'Love, if I've hurt you in any way just tell me, I'll fix it. ''Fuck, you can't stand that he thinks that. You can't stand that you've made him the one who feels insecure. You search for his hand in the pleasant darkness, this time turning the skull ring between your fingers. You take a deep breath. ''No, Eddie. It's not about you, it's about me. Christ, you haven't done anything wrong. You're the best in the world. I'm… You know I'm sick. I, like I told you I've faced it since I was a kid, but apart from having to take medication and sometimes I really don't feel like moving out of bed, there's something else, something I'm ashamed of, because I've always been told it's something to be ashamed of.'' You shudder, fighting the sob vibrating in your throat. Eddie doesn't say anything. He just nods for you to continue, tenderly kissing your knuckles. ''I have a lot of scars from all those infusions. They're horrible. I can't stand them. I can't stand my reflection. I can't stand looking at them. I hate that there are more and more of them. That they're not disappearing, they're just getting bigger every day. I hate them so much.'' Eddie's heart breaks. He can't believe you think that about yourself. Not when he thinks you're the most beautiful woman on earth. The most valuable, intelligent. You are his rising sun, when he was like an October night without you. Cold and devoid of rays, his feelings somewhere behind a fog of fear. The silence consumes you both. It begins to overwhelm you. You want him to speak, even if they are words of rejection, though you probably can't bear them. Eddie senses your confusion and self-doubt. He wraps his arms around you, one hand gripping your face. His hand is large on your cheek, giving you a beloved sense of security. You love comparing it to yours as yours literally sinks into him, or watching him slide his thick fingers over your thigh, embracing almost all of it. He sees you returning to him. He smiles soothingly, rubbing the thumb of his other hand over your neck, at the point of your pulse.

''Princess. Listen to me now, okay? I love you. Christ, I love you so fucking much. I think more than my guitar, Lord of the Rings, music, because fuck me baby, you are my music, my muse, my ruler, my everything. And no scars will be able to change that, you got that? Beautiful, they'll only make me admire you more. For how bravely you fight every day, for how you don't give up. For how you are still open to the world, to people, to the good, despite the unpleasantness that has befallen you. I feel very lucky that you let me in, that you let me be with you. Therefore, I will appreciate this opportunity as long as you let me. I will honour you as you deserve.'' You are crying now, ready to make love to him until you are out of breath. He rubs his salty peas, smiling tenderly at you. Even more thirsty and desperate, you slide impossibly close to him. You climb into his lap again and again feel the pleasant stimulation as your insatiable pussy, covered by soaked panties, comes into contact with the rough material of his trousers. Eddie hugs your waist, helping you to move. ''Eddie, I…'' You faintly shrugged. God, it was so pathetic. You rubbed against him like a desperate little slut, crying raspily. ''I love you so much Eddie. I'm sorry I doubted you. It's just that so many people have let me down and…'' ''It's okay, honey. You don't have anything to apologise for, okay? You had a right to all those feelings and emotions and you also had a right not to trust me at first…'' ''No, Eddie. I trust you. I trust you so much. I want you so much, please.''' Eddie stammered, hearing your silent plea. His cock also twitched curiously at this spectacle. The little whine that escaped your wet lips was the sweet end of it. It sounded better than the notes from his guitar and better than any Metallica song. Maybe he was blaspheming now, but nothing he was going to do to you was sacred. Just blasphemous. It was how fucked up you sounded and how desperate you sounded that broke whatever brakes and chains were holding him down.

''I want to see you, is that okay love?'' You nodded as his hands, which a moment ago had been held securely on your sweatshirt, now wandered slowly towards your naked waist. You held your breath, but you didn't stop him. Nor did you stop him when he lifted the sweatshirt up your body, causing you to be left in just your bra after a moment. You clenched your eyes shut, terrified, vulnerable and not ready for the judgement you expected to see in his gentle features and eyes. You remembered the last injection on your stomach and panicked. However, you heard no laughter, no snorting, no chastising. Eddie didn't get mad at all, didn't get up disgusted. He didn't. You felt butterfly kisses right next to your navel. He kissed your puncture scars with his open mouth, purring into your heated skin, sending pleasant vibrations throughout your body. ''Beautiful. Jesus Christ, I have the most beautiful baby under the sun. On top of that, so brave and courageous. Baby, you are so beautiful.'' A kiss. Another just below the underwire of your bra, which he got rid of in less than a second, exposing you to his greedy gaze. And another on your hip. More passionate and juicy. A pleasant current reached your frightened heart this time. He accepted you. He loved you as you are. When this reached you another wave of tears flooded you. This time the happy ones. ''Let it out, sweet girl, you are safe here. My dear little crybaby. I guess I need to take better care of you, huh? I need to show how precious you are. Come on, come here to me. I'll take care of you properly. I'm going to wipe out all the nonsense you think about yourself. '' Eddie licked his lips lewdly before kneeling on the floor in front of the couch. Before doing so, he kissed the bend in your elbow, where you'd last had an IV done. That one kiss evoked more emotion than all the others that night, even though they made you dizzy. It showed his love and care. That he is here for you. That he wants to be there for you and isn't going anywhere. One of your knees was on his right shoulder and your other leg was spread wide for better access to you. He grinned, playing with your greedy crack through the thin material of your panties. You whimpered.

''What's all this whining, sweetie? Be so good to me and I'll show you fucking how you should be worshipped. '' He patted your ass, seeing the stain on your underwear get bigger. He laughed darkly. Of course you liked that shit. You could pretend to be so innocent and small, but really you just wanted to be tied up with his belt, thrown over his knee and treated roughly. ''Eddie, don't tease me.'' You flutter your eyelashes at him, playing the little shit. ''Honey, let me worship my goddess. I'm just discovering a new religion. '' You moan desperately, giving in to him. Eddie removes your panties and you feel like it's taking ages. He teases you and you let him, especially when he bulges his eyes admiring your dripping, lovely pussy. He slurps hot air into it, and as you squirm in his embrace, you get another two spanks. Gentle but firm ones. The kind that makes a pleasant warmth tickle your belly. You swear that you could come just from that. But then he leans in and sucks your clit avidly, as if there is no tomorrow. As if he's licking the last bit of ice cream off a spoon, as if he's had his last meal and as if he's been given water after days of drought. And that is exactly how he felt. Thirsty and miserable until he tasted your sweet juices. He licks your crack, from the tight ass hole to the sensitive nodule, expanding your folds with the tip of his tongue. He again embraces your clitoris with his open mouth, swirling his tongue around it. He slurps lewdly, spitting into your pussy and licking up his drool. His hand glides across your belly, stopping at a sensitive nipple. He maltreated it between his fingers, every now and then focusing his attention on the other one too. You moaned, arching back, feeling the knot tightening in your insides. You had never felt an orgasm approaching so quickly. Your toes curled and you rocked your hips, clenching your fingers in his curls, trying to bring his face impossibly close to your thirsty folds. Though his tongue was literally one with your pussy and touched places you hadn't known before and didn't reach, even with your fingers.

''God, pretty girl. I could eat you out all night until you were all shivering and wet. But I promised to worship every square inch of you, I have to do it, yes? Come here to me.'' You look so fucked he can't stand it. His hands land on your back to ease you onto him. You are now sitting on top of him, your thighs on either side of his hips, and rubbing your clit pleasurably against his trousers again. Eddie removes his t-shirt so that he is skin to skin with you and allows your fingers to tighten on his alabaster shoulders. You admire his tattoos for a moment, running your finger over his bats and spider. But he doesn't let you enjoy the view for long, as he grabs your pebbly nipple between his forefinger and thumb, making you squirm, hungry for his touch and attention. ''I want to see you whole, okay? Ride me, sweet girl. Be a good fucking girl and ride my cock. ''Drooling, you undo his belt buckle and zipper. His cock pops out of his boxers. All hard, pink, wet and tempting. You lick your lips, playing with his red tip, to which he growls, tilting his head back against the couch headrest.

''Don't play with me, babe. I need your pussy on my cock, okay? Get me wet, sweet girl. Fuck, use me for your pleasure. I'm all yours, right? Ride me. Milk me to the finish''He purrs in your ear, helping you climb onto his heaving penis. You feel him rubbing against you, slowly thrusting in and ruining your entrance with just a push. Your eyes roll back, your pulse tightens the hoop around your head, and your breathing speeds up. A light sheen of sweat glistens on Eddie's chest. It doesn't help that your boyfriend is clamping both hands on your buttocks, kneading and kneading your fleshy skin like fucking dough. He pats, pinches and massages your ass, impaling you on his cock ever more brutally. You stagger back and forth on him, jumping up and gripping tighter to his arms, which are doing your leverage. You are swamped, fucked and over-stimulated. His shaft slides into your wet pussy, perfectly hitting that spongy spot he had skilfully caressed earlier with his tongue; his mouth salivates over your breasts, biting alternating nipples, his clasped fingers tormenting your swollen clit, making the most lewd sound. Completely frozen, you whimper and squirm wildly, barely hearing his words. ''Beautiful. Perfect. My tigress. My brave girl. ''He covers all your scars with his eyes, scissoring the places he has access to in this position. This time his arms hug your back, to be able to be closer to him. So that you can look into his eyes, continuing to ride him, this time slower and more sensual. His bushy pubic hair is now rubbing against your clit, sending a delicious shiver to your core. He touches his lips to your mouth, not kissing, but rubbing against it. Your slick nipples come into contact with his hot chest as you circle slowly on top of him now, feeling every vein of his cock deep inside you. You don't even know what he's saying to you as the orgasm oozes towards you like a speeding train, stunning you. ''Fuck, baby, that tiny cunt is swallowing me so good. You are so tight. Come for me, come now. I can feel you squeezing me. ''You're muttering something under your breath. Since he slowed down the bluntness, your release seemed to lap at you harder. Everything became blurry, white and skimming. Satisfied and far beyond your brain, you only felt his semen spilling inside you, soaking you and filling you. The last things you remember are his soothing arms, his words of apology, his breath against your ear, the scent of lavender candles and tobacco you could still smell in his soft curls and the hot water enveloping your tired body.

It was one of those days. You came back from hospital after a whole day of not eating so they could properly prepare you for another gruelling examination. You had had enough. You were exhausted, hungry and frustrated, barely managing to keep your eyelids ajar as they discharged you home, marking you to come in for a check-up in a week's time. Eddie ran at you like a puppy. He insisted on carrying you to the car so that God forbid you got tired of walking. On the way, he turned on California Dreams, humming to you as you dozed off in the front seat, while he stroked soothing circles on your thigh to help you relax; he also took you out for your favourite burger and a double milkshake, because, he said, he had to pamper you properly after those nasty meds. However, the real pampering began at home. He carried you to bed, making sure you were decently covered, had the right number of pillows under your head and a soft enough blanket. He treated you to a million little kisses on the forehead before disappearing into the kitchen to prepare your hot chocolate. Making sure you were full and all warm and snoozing sweetly, Eddie pulled out his notebook, where he mostly jotted down ideas for D&D campaigns, to check exactly what time you should take your medication. This chaotic, careless and incredibly forgetful boy didn't even remember his lunch box or to put the washing machine in on time so Wayne wouldn't get pissed at him again and reproach him for not fulfilling his duties, but you, sweet, adorable and most wonderful you, now snuggling like a teddy bear in the bend of his neck, drooling on his skin in your sleep, were his damn priority. He knew it was common for you to forget your medication, so he wrote everything down carefully for you, highlighting the time of day, when and what doses you were supposed to be taking. When he realised that it was passing the time for your evening dose and you were still asleep, pressing firmly into his side, he had to break your blissful state with a painful heart. He corrected himself on the bed, leaning your back against the headrest, and lifted you gently so that you could continue to lean against his body, but at the same time have a comfortable position to swallow the tablets.

''Sweetheart, hey. I really didn't want to interrupt your rest, but you need to take your medication, okay? I'll give you, just stay here, sweetie. '' He leaned over to the bedside table, reaching for a glass of water. He slipped the capsule between your parted lips, from which came your disgruntled muttering. You were somewhere beyond consciousness, not yet fully awake, aware only of his soft touch and the closeness in which you were splashing. You swallowed the antibiotic, obediently sipping as he tilted the glass towards you. ''My good girl. I'm so proud of you, sunshine. ''He whispered in a low voice, kissing the middle of your ear. You blushed at the praise. You quivered like a kitten who had been scratched behind the ear by someone. Your inner little girl was jumping for joy, and the big, more needy one was clenching her thighs, rubbing heat between her legs. Oh, how he worked on you. He had no idea. Or he had. He was just slyly taking advantage of it. ''Thank you, Eddie. Thank you for being here and helping me.'' You muttered sleepily, settling down to sleep again. You clung to his chest like a little koala bear, but he didn't complain. He wouldn't dare. He politely stroked your back, every now and then playing with your hair and rolling soothing circles on your tense shoulders. He made a mental note to give you a hot bath and massage later, once you were feeling a little better. ''Eddie?'' you grunted into his chest. A light came on over your head. ''Yes, love? Do you need something, get you something?'' You shook your head, glancing up at him from above half-closed eyelids. God, you had never looked more sweet and innocent, and yet he knew that behind that cloud of tenderness hid a tempting devil. ''Do you by any chance have a campaign today? It's already Thursday.'' You reminded, burying your head under his chin. The rhythm of his heart calmed you.

''I had, sunny, but I called the guys and cancelled. I rescheduled for the next one.'' You furrowed your brow, resting your chin on his chest to get a better view of him. The wry smile played across his face. He already knew he was going to get away with it. You couldn't resist those dimples and shiny chocolate buttons. ''Eddie.'' You fuked accusingly, feeling a sudden sense of guilt. You were the reason he'd given up. You knew. Surely he'd want to go when he didn't have to look after you. The treacherous gobble of insecurity began to giggle and ignite the anxious flames of shame in your chest. It made you feel hard. However, Eddie immediately picked up on the change in your behaviour, sweeping the goblin away with one tender kiss on the forehead. He felt you tensing up, so he embraced you tighter, not letting you move away. ''I wanted to, love. Don't start again with the silly things about me sacrificing myself for you and being unhappy because of it.''' He rebuked you gently, sending you a stern look, but the gentleness pierces through that fog. He really couldn't be angry with you. He would jump into the fire if you asked him, so how could he be angry over some trivial matter? ''I am doing all this because I love you. I'm staying with you because I want to take care of you, okay? I want you to be better off because then I'm better off too, you know? It's my choice, it's my decision. I chose to love you. And I will love you. And I will accept you. Exactly as you are.'' Your eyes glazed over. You were never anyone's first choice. Even your parents distanced themselves from you over time, letting you know that they were overwhelmed by caring for someone sick. And he didn't even freak out at the news of your illness. He was sad, yes, but because you have to face it and when he heard about all the assholes who made you feel less than valuable and sufficient. He kissed you faintly, stroking the apples of your cheeks, smeared with emotion. That's when you knew. Hearing the quiet words of The Mamas and the Papas in the background. This is the right somebody to love.

taglist: @eddielives1986 @goodhappyfriday @needylilgal022 @alienthingstwo @stranger-messenger @honey-eyed-munson @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn characters

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bi-bats · 1 year ago

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trick or treat!! 3-sentence fic or wip sneak peak? (up to u!)

HELLOOOOO MY BELOVED!! HAPPY HALLOWEEENNNNNNNN

For YOU I have a snippet of the one shot I'm working on that was like. supposed to be a drabble for the prompt you sent me and has gotten. long. lmao.

also it's going to be a fic with smut in it and I haven't even gotten to the smut yet and it's already 2.5k words lmao

so here my TRIUMPHANT RETURN TO WRITING JAYTIM

~ ✨ ~

“Do you… well… I mean… I could give you a massage?”

Jason blinks at him.

“Did… I’m sorry. Did you just say you could give me a massage?”

Tim’s face burns furiously hot. What does he say, no?

Well. He kind of wants to say no, actually. Maybe he can just gaslight his way out of this one—

No, no. Jason heard.

Damn.

He tries to say yes, but it tilts up into a question at the end.

“Yes?”

Jason blinks at him, and Tim’s skin feels too tight. The material of the couch is suddenly itchy on the back of his arms, but the heat on his face distracts him from it. Mostly.

“…Okay.”

There’s a stutter in Tim’s breathing, the slightest hitch between in and out, right after Jason answers. It’s unnoticeable.

If you aren’t a bat.

Jason raises an eyebrow, because of course he fucking noticed.

Tim can’t just sit there while Jason looks at him like that, so he moves.

He shifts forward on the couch, scooting an inch or two closer and waving his hands in what he hopes is a gesture indicating ‘turn around so I can rub your shoulders’ and not ‘I have no idea what to do with my hands right now this is so awkward why did I offer this oh my god’.

He’s probably fine. The gesture for that would have had more flapping.

Probably.

It still takes Jason a second to get in gear. He shrugs, tilting his head to the side in a way that says something like ‘eh, why not’, which isn’t exactly what Tim had been hoping for when offering to touch a guy he’s had a crush on since he knew what crushes were, but he’s letting Tim do it, so it’s better than rejecting—

Jason slides his shirt off in a smooth motion, reaching over the back of his head to grab the neck of it and tug it off.

It’s like one of those fucking thirst trap reels on Instagram.

Tim was just watching him move over on the couch while his thoughts went on a little spiral, and then Jason reached for the back of his shirt, and bam.

The lights drop, the music starts, the speed slows down, and Tim can see every ripple in the muscles of Jason’s forearm, every inch of skin revealing as he lifts the shirt, every angle of the dips in his spine, every scar, every scab, every damn freckle — for god’s sake, he can even see about a half an inch of elastic above the top of his pants.

It’s red.

Of course it’s red.

Tim takes a deep breath, trying to disguise it by shifting closer to Jason, who’s sitting with his back to Tim, his arms threaded through the shirt in his lap.

He can do this. He can do this.

It’s just a massage.

“Come on, Timbo. Let’s see what those scrawny fingers got.”

Tim lets out an exasperated scoff, and Jason’s shoulders shake two or three times as he chuckles.

He considers digging an elbow into Jason’s spine, just to be an asshole, but he has a better plan.

He’s going to wow him. It’s going to be the best damn massage in his life.

Scrawny fingers, Tim grumbles in his head as he places his hand down on Jason’s left shoulder.

Immediately, Jason flinches and lets out a noise of surprise, and Tim flinches back because he’s surprised.

Great start.

“Jesus fuck, your fingers are like ice!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tim mutters, even though he isn’t, not really. Still, he rubs his hands together quickly, just a few times to get some of the cold out of them.

He puts his hands back on Jason’s shoulders, and Jason stiffens, but he doesn’t flinch away this time.

Okay. Good.

Tim starts applying pressure, rubbing up and down the muscles, and after a few moments, it’s easier to shift into a more clinical headspace, even with the warmth of his skin seeping through Tim’s fingers.

“Where is it bothering you?” he asks.

“Oh, uh. By my spine. And…” Jason pauses for a moment while Tim’s palm digs into the meat of his shoulder, and when he resumes speaking, his voice is a little higher. “…my neck.”

Tim nods, letting his palm dig in again. He wishes he had lotion or something. Jason’s skin drags against his every time he moves his hand, and it’s uncomfortable. Also, Jason’s skin is warm, flushing pink under the area he’s been rubbing, and… a little bit up his neck, too actually. The tips of his ears are pink, Tim realizes as he works his way up to the crook of Jason’s neck.

He digs his thumb into the muscle right by the top of Jason’s shoulder, and he’s just starting to lose himself in it when he hears a breathy noise, almost like…

No. No, Tim’s making shit up. Jason did not audibly moan. Tim is putting things where he wants them to be, because that’s what he wants.

On the next roll of his palm, Jason says, “Ngh, Christ, Tim.”

With Tim’s hand frozen on his shoulder, he can feel the way Jason tenses, has a front row seat to the burst of color across his neck.

Thank god they’re in Jason’s apartment. In Jason’s living room. With Jason’s cameras recording. He doesn’t have to memorize the way that sounded coming out of Jason’s mouth.

No, he can go hack into his files and save it as a clip and then back it up on three separate servers, and then also a hard drive, and maybe also on a USB in a lockbox buried in the woods somewhere, because he doesn’t think he can live another moment of his life without having access to the way his name sounded coming out of Jason’s mouth.

“Sorry,” Jason mutters, and he sounds… meek? It’s weird, but Tim doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jason sound shy.

“No worries,” Tim says, feeling like he’s regained some ground.

“You can… make noise,” Tim adds.

Immediately, he feels like he’s lost that ground.

Jason clears his throat a little. “No, it’s — it’s fine, I’m good. You can, uh. Keep going.”

A grin tugs across his mouth as he resumes his massage, listening to the way Jason’s breathing is getting heavier.

“I thought my fingers were scrawny?”

#batwrites #batsasks #☁️ eidoloony #jaytim #jaytim fic #writing snippet

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myloveforhergoeson · 10 months ago

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tw: discussion of scars + childhood injury

“woah… what’s this?”

gingerly, roxy caught james’ left wrist between her calloused fingers, turning his forearm to face her direction as they cuddled on one of the many lounge chairs by the pool. with his well maintained tan from hours spent in the los angeles sun, the thin white line was almost impossible to spot; she’d certainly never noticed it before today.

thumb swiping over the scarred area, she felt james slightly flinch at her touch. “it’s nothing… old injury.”

removing the right arm slung around her waist, he shifted to the left a bit, dark sunglasses obscuring the look on his face. he covered the mark with his hand for a moment, palm over the area like a bandaid, before taking a breath and gathering his girlfriend in his arms once more.

with her ear to his chest, she could hear his heart race. though that might be due to their proximity, the feeling of his palms growing clammy on her bare skin told her otherwise.

she silently praised her choice of a red crop top for the day.

“i’ve got one on the back of my leg,” she said in response to the chill, moving her right foot into the air and wiggling it a bit to ease the tension she could sense radiating off of him in waves. “one of dani’s dogs didn’t like me very much. i got too close to her one day and she really decided to let me know… god, that shit hurt like hell.”

one of his brows raised, signifying she’d caught his attention. “you had to know that she didn’t like you. dogs are super vocal about that type of thing aren’t they? like, missy really hates logan. we think she can sense he’s more of a cat person.”

“i know you’re not blaming me for being viciously bit by a crazy animal right now. everybody else loves me! why should i assume bear felt any different?”

air shot out of his nostrils in a silent chuckle, tickling the top of her head, almost going unheard against the chatter of other hotel patrons on the deck around them. “the dog was named bear?! baby, you were totally asking for it!”

visions of the black labradoodle ran through her mind, much like how bear loved to run through dani’s family’s large, open property. “she was a total sweetheart when mag and dani were around her… maybe she doesn’t like gorgeous, talented women or something.”

james’ nose exhale turned into full on laughter, roxy practically bouncing off his chest as his body shook at her words.

from the table beside their lounger, roxy reached out to take a drink of the lemonade she’d picked up from the cafe, offering the cup out to her boyfriend as well.

after a long, slow sip, james’ free hand set it down before sinking into her long hair. instinctively, her arm draped around his waist. “i forgot to put the blade guards on my skates after practice one night. coach worked us so hard that day i was just happy to get off the ice and get home; too distracted by what my mom might be making for dinner to think straight. walked out of the arena with my bag in one hand and my stick and skates in the other, hit a patch of black ice before i reached her car, and ended up cutting myself up pretty darn good.”

just the thought of the sharp, stainless steel of an ice skate anywhere near her skin caused a shiver to crawl down the girl’s spine. “that must have been awful…”

“well a trip to the er, sixteen stitches, and a bunch of ibuprofen later i was feeling just fine. i think my ego was more bruised than anything. my mom was super freaked though.”

“well yeah,” roxy nodded, finger rising to trace the lines of the soft black tank top james wore, “any mom would be worried about such a substantial injury. i’ve never had stitches but i imagine sixteen means it was very big and very deep.”

closing his eyes, james took another breath. “deep? yes. big? eh. nothing like the time carlos got a metal plate put in his head.”

“jesus christ. i’m going to pass out just thinking of it…” her hand curled into a fist, taking the smooth fabric with it.

a few kids from their class were starting up a game of volleyball in the pool in front of them, sounds of shouting and splashing water distracting the writer from their conversation momentarily.

“but you’re right,” james continued. “my mom was worried - just not about me. more about the mark it would leave than anything… she even called an emergency meeting for her product development team to start work on a scar cream. i still use it to this day.”

roxy chose not to comment on the success of the cream if she was still able to see the mark that remained on her boyfriend’s skin, though her heart panged at his words. clearly, brooke’s concern had reached him, just for the wrong reasons. she saw it in the way he instinctively covered the area when she’d mentioned it, in the solemn way he discussed the product he still used, months, maybe years, after his accident.

without thinking, her fingers caught his wrist again from where they tangled in her locks and pulled his forearm to the sun once more. the scar stood out more prominently to her now, and now she couldn’t even remember what he looked like without it. it was part of what made james james. “she shouldn’t have made you feel that way... it was an accident; you were seriously hurt. who cares what it would look like in the future? what should have mattered was your safety in that moment and beyond.”

he didn’t respond to her, gaze somewhere off in the distance behind the tint of his shades. this time, when roxy swiped her thumb over the area, he didn’t jump.

“we all show concern in our own way i suppose,” he whispered into her hair, placing a kiss on her crown before resting his chin there.

as they cuddled by the pool, james hugged roxy just a little bit tighter.

#so yeah a kid bit me at work and it’s scarring. here you go.#thats all she wrote fic

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wren-beowulf · 7 months ago

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So, um, My name is Wren, Wren Beowulf.

Name: Wren Beowulf (Used to be called "Bad Luck Birdy" by the other kids when he was young. His brother calls him Wrenegade.)

Alter Ego: The Lurcher its stupid I know

Occupation: Villain

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: Gay

Age: 22 (October 13th)

Gotham knows me as The Lurcher, for some reason. I didn't choose that name, it's super dumb, I know, but eh ya know. Beggars can't be choosers 'n all that.

So... elephant in the room... I'm a Villain. Not entirely by choice, but it's a long story, kinda don't wanna talk about it, not all of it at least. What's done is done. Thief, mostly, of tech. Re-sell that shit to the Gangs, Rouges, whatever of Gotham, again, long story, but business 's business. But most people in Gotham kinda already know that.

I like Tech, anythin' mechanical. 'M not a big robot buildin' guy, but anythin' else and I'm on it. I can re-make anythin' I've made before, photographic memory and all that (So if ya made an order from me before, don't worry, just send it again and the date and I've got the specs memorized). My brother calls--called me a genius once, I'm not sure about that, but I'm pretty smart if I can toot my own horn for a second.

Oh, right! Uh--I almost forgot. I'm a guy, male, I use He/Him. I'm Gay, only been uh, out, for about a year now so I'm still kinda sorta new to it. My birthday is on October 13th, I was born on a Friday. Yeah I don't believe in curses or anythin' like that, but I have some pretty shit life luck, so 'm totally cursed ha ha...

Been livin' in a couple of places 'round Gotham, mostly the line between The Bowery and Crime Ally. Abandoned buildin's are a plenty, and I have my own ways of keepin' them under the radar. It's fine. You won't find me, so don't bother.

Hmm... was that all? Oh wait--yeah. I'm a Meta. Yep, that's all now. See ya.

OOC Info:

Older Brother (Sirius Beowulf) - @brother-of-a-villain

I'm open to shipping stuff/romance, Wren x Canon or Wren x OC, either one is fine. Not necessary haha but it's an option.

APPEARANCE INFO: (because info dumping is fun yay)

Pale blue husky eyes, long-ish black hair (usually pulled back), short stature at 5'7", but actually pretty strong with muscles (He works with a lot of heavy machinery), very fair skin with lots of little moles, beauty mark under his lip.

Lots of scars from working with Gangs, most prominently, a long cut going from his left thigh, inner hip, up his back and ending over his right shoulder. Also has many playing card slices, hammer smashes, bullet scars, knife slashes, pretty much all the works you'd get in his line of work. Some of it can be played off as a work injury... others get covered up. Fortunately, most of it ain't on his arms. Though some are from his parents, like the cigarette burns on his palms.

You'll probably commonly see him in his tan jumpsuit and black tank top combo, though usually has the top half around his waist. Other times you'll see him in his brother's old hand me downs from highschool, very alternative looking.

He has a lot of piercing, he will likely get more. Three on each ear (R Ear Lobe/Upper Lobe/Indistrial) (L Ear Lobe/Upper Lobe/Helix) And snake bites in his lips. Used to have a nose and eyebrow piercing, but they closed up some time ago.

He has more than once been described as being Hot lmao.

Rando Info

- Wren has a scary good photographic memory, can remember everything. But usually pretends to struggle to not freak anyone out with it.

- Wren semi-lives with a Raccoon named Pudge who lives in his workshop.

- He has a complicated relationship with his brother. Sirius lived with their uncle in Gotham Proper his entire life, except weekends due to split custody. He used to love weekends...

- He has a large Dragon Plush named Danny. It was a Christmas present from his brother and is special to him.

- Wren's Meta ability let's him make perfect duplications of anything, and control such duplications to a degree. He can even make duplications of himself or others, though when they die or disappear he or they gains their memories.

- Wren's Backstory has themes of CSA, abuse, addiction, and depression, so you have been warned. Posts will be tagged accordingly so ya don't have to see those.

- I am very much an adult ha ha. I'm fine with NSFW 🔞 stuff, but if I'm not comfortable with something I'll let you know.

#dc oc rp #dc oc #dc ocs #oc #oc rp #oc roleplay #intro post #rp blog #dc rp blog #dc rp #gotham oc #rp account #dc roleplay

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d-parade · 1 year ago

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overheard my pansexual femboy brother (18) talking about top surgery to my sister.

my 10 year old sister.

to quote: “it’s when you don’t like your breasts so you chop them off, then you get scars.”

i felt so ungodly annoyed that i had to remove myself from the situation before i bitch slapped him across the face.

why is this bad, you may ask? my sister has always been a tomboy, and she is right now struggling hard with puberty. she obviously has no dysphoria but is still having hardships like any other normal girl.

my brother doing this is giving her ideas. false ideas. how and why is top surgery reduced to: “it’s when you don’t like breasts”??

call me transphobic or whatever. conservative even. i’m fine with children knowing the concept of transsex but i do not agree with telling them details, and again, false information.

so you know how saying that can influence a child’s thoughts, especially when they’re learning how to cope with new things.

my brother also cannot physically shut up about trans related issues even though he’s just a fucking “femboy”. and he once kept trying to suggest i’m trans and get me to talk about the topic. so i made it very damn clear that i wasn’t into the lgbt bullshit by shutting down his pansexuality so he would get off my back. it worked, but he thinks i’m homophobic. eh who cares.

i wish i was kidding. i seriously wish i was creating a made up story to stir shit and prove straw man arguments. i’m not. seriously. wouldn’t tagged this to death rather than leave it as a stupid nonsensical rant on my blog.

i’m sick of this shit gootbai

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ampedupkaon · 8 months ago

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August Writing Challenge Day 17: Arthur/Nanashi

AN: This was one of the specific days too. The seventeenth of August is Arthur's birthday. Set the first night Arthur and Nanashi are in the bunker in Camelot.

Nanashi hadn't been surprised to discover that there wasn't enough beds. It was a hastily cobbled together shelter; of course there wasn't enough beds. What did surprise him...

“Won't you join me, Sir Nanashi?” Was that Arthur... King Arthur wanted to share a bed with him. Surely the boy king shouldn't have to share a bed? Surely he shouldn't be sharing with a man either; who knew how his subjects would take that?

“Surely it is not proper for you and I to share a bed?” Nanashi told him. Arthur laughed.

“There aren't enough beds for everyone to have one each. And that includes there not being one for me. You're my ally, what's strange about it?”

“We are both men.” Nanashi informed him, as though that was news to the boy king. Again, he got an incredulous look.

“So? Sir Gilthunder and Sir Howzer shared a bed in the Boar Hat. So did Sir Slader and Sir Gowther. Two men can share a bed and it not mean anything. I don't sleep in the nude but... even if I did and you did... it doesn't mean we have to do anything... adult.” A slight smile crossed Nanashi's face. Arthur was wise beyond his years it seemed. Though, Nanashi wasn't going to take any clothes off. He wasn't willing to show the scars on his back, the remnants of his wings. He feared questions about that. He'd saved Arthur with his healing magic a few times in the past; all done on the sly. The boy was important. He would unite Britannia, Nanashi was sure of that.

“Then shall we go to bed?” Arthur grinned before leading the way. It turned out the beds were only just big enough for one person to lie in. Getting two people in would involve... a lot of squeezing and squashing together.

“I thought the beds might be a little wider than that...” Nanashi swallowed. He was thankful he wasn't removing any clothes. Arthur started to remove his armour, what remained of it at any rate. His top quickly followed, then his trousers. Arthur might not sleep in the nude, but he didn't sleep in much.

“Are you not bothered about people seeing you like that?” Nanashi asked. Arthur giggled.

“Eh... they can look. Not much to look at anyway. Some of the men sleep in the nude. Some of the women do too; I've saw them if I've got up through the night.” Arthur climbed on the bed, lying dangerously close to the edge furthest away from him.

“They know we're friends. Some of the other men are sharing a bed with their friends; having to lie close together and cuddle. They don't care.” Nanashi was a bit more bothered about it than Arthur was. Perhaps because it was frowned upon for goddesses to cuddle if they were both male. Pats to shoulders was allowed. Proper cuddles weren't. And what goddesses got up to in privacy of their own chambers was never discussed openly; so if two male goddesses did cuddle he knew nothing of it.

“Are you nervous, Sir Nanashi?” Arthur asked, shaking him from his musings.

“I admit I have never shared a bed with someone else before.” He wasn't nervous of the act. Nervous of how others might view it, but not nervous of the act.

“It's fine. We just need to shuffle together and slip our arms around each other.” Nanashi made his way over, climbing on the bed. He and Arthur were quite close together already, but Arthur shuffled closer. He felt the boy king's arms sliding around to his back and stiffened a little.

“It's alright. Nobody is going to judge. We're friends and friends cuddle.” He forced himself to relax. The scars were just that; scars. There was no trace of his wings, not even a stub. Arthur wouldn't be able to tell. He let his arms slide around the boy king, pulling him a tiny bit closer.

“It's a little cosy... but we'll be alright.” It was warm, even without a blanket. He got as comfortable as he could, which wasn't very; knowing he couldn't move very much without falling out of bed. Arthur yawned, tired out by fighting demons all day it seemed.

“Night Nanashi.” His eyes fluttered shut and he found sleep easily. Nanashi himself was a little jealous. He closed his own eyes, hoping that sleep found him as quickly as it found Arthur.

“Sleep well, Arthur.” He whispered, aware the boy king was probably asleep. A soft grumble answered him before sleep dragged him under.

AN: Arthur wakes up first and scrambles backwards when he realises he's in bed with someone else. He ends up landing on the floor, which wakes up Nanashi. He apologises for waking Nanashi, but is told by Nanashi that he would have done the same thing had he woke up first.

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #nnt arthur #nnt nanashi

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lawomi · 10 months ago

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From the Start ch 2 - Trans Trafalgar Law x AFAB Mink Reader

The Straw Hat crew has saved you from Caesar's horrific gas bomb Jack deployed on Zou. Later, Luffy arrives at the island with Law. With some confidence, you could even bother this tired, apathetic looking man for some time alone.

Minors DNI

Alright, there he is! I'm apparently bad at writing deprication 🤣 which is ok, Law isn't meant to be experienced either LOL. I'm better at praise myself... Repost; shoulda posted like this on tumblr originally but eh

CW: Describing wounds/stitching wounds, Objectification, Deprication kink, Spanking, Fingering, Breast play, Mastectomy scars

“Hey, are you alright? Hey!” A woman’s voice made your ears flick. Furrowing your brow due to the headache you felt, you slowly opened your eyes to find you were on the ground, laid out and bandaged up around your ribs, your upper arms, your thigh. Someone had saved you. You try to sit up, but the aching of your muscles forces you back down. You turn your head, your neck protesting, and find that others are being treated. An orange haired lesser mink sat holding Bepo’s head in her lap, reapplying ointment in order to start bandaging his head. Bepo winced and complained, but he seemed just fine. Penguin and Shachi stood over them, grinning, plenty bandaged up themselves.

“What happened,” you mumble as a dwarf blue-and-pink-hat wearing reindeer mink approaches you. “Who are you?” You rudely stare at his flashy hat, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“My name is Tony Tony Chopper, doctor of the Straw Hat pirates,” he droned the greeting he likely said to half of the Mokomo Dukedom already. He was scribbling something into a notebook, obviously distracted. “I learned your name was Y/N, yes?” He looks up at you with cute, but very serious eyes.

You stifle a pained giggle. “Y-yes, Doctor. What happened to that mammoth?”

“Jack left you all to die using Caesar’s gas weapon,” Chopper mumbles, continuing to write. “Okay, Mx. Y/N, it seems you have some severe injuries. While they’re healing quickly, you’ll still need stitches. I heard from locals you have a devil fruit ability and that ability has really strained your muscles to top it off, so you need a lot of rest, okay?” You nod your furry head, sighing at the sight of blood seeping through your thighs bandages. You could still move your legs at least.

“Hey, quit moving,” Chopper scolds, so you do. He taps his chin thoughtfully with the pen, “I’ll have to redress this again. Tora-o’s group has helped in our efforts immensely despite the amount of patients,” he rambles this to himself at this point, “Mr. Miyagi & Tristen will appreciate their help tomorrow."

“Tora-o?” You blink at the little deer.

“Trafalgar Law,” he said, causing you to perk up. “He’s an excellent surgeon, the best as far as I know.”

Your heart was beating wildly. The Heart Pirates had gone to meet with their captain. He was coming. It’d been a long while since you followed his story, you’d grown to have a crush on this figure- one you knew next to nothing about. You knew more now thanks to his crew, though. You could see the fire in their eyes as they described him with great respect or the laughter at the responses he would have to their antics, but it wasn’t your direct experience yet. You wince in pain, still recovering from the fight with Jack’s minions, but you can’t help but quake from excitement, pestering your stitches as a result. The room you were in had other minks with severe injuries that required monitoring as they healed, Law would come by and check them now, giving his crew some rest. Someone entered the building, several heavy footsteps indicated it was likely the Heart Pirates.

“Hey,” came a breathy masculine voice that was quite unique to your ears. “Bepo told me you fought to protect Zou beside him, so I’ve decided I’ll help you first.”

What a lovely sound, you think to yourself. I want him to talk more… You sat up with your elbow to get a better look at him. Wow, his hat looked softer than in the den den mushi photos plastered on his wanted posters. You try your best to focus, staring particularly at his sideburns, then down to the tattoo peaking out of his black button up. You shake the blush from your furred face. “Yes! Um,” you fumble with the bandage, your sharp wolf nails cutting through it.

A hand presses between your wolf ears, pressing the hair there down. You freeze. Glancing up, you realize Law placed his hand on your head. “Relax,” he said, “Don’t take it off right away. You shouldn’t be moving like that, don’t worry about it.” With a gentle push down on your head you slowly lie back again.

Law and another of his crew helped you on to the singular medical table the refuge had for this specific use. They had rolled it over to where you were easily and helped you onto it together. “Alright,” Law looked at your face, cool eyes watching your expression as you observed their actions. “Do you permit me to touch you?” You nod meekly, blush creeping up on you yet again. Law readied his supplies, then went ahead and cut away the gauze from your thigh. His steady gloved hands slowly worked to peel away the gauze, you couldn’t help but shiver. He observed the stitches on the shaved patch of skin and found them to be in good shape; Chopper was good at what he did after all, so Law prepared to disinfect and redress it.

“Is it… okay?” You ask. You wince as he sprays the disinfectant.

“As far as I can see, yes,” Law is monotone as he focuses. He redresses your thigh, then adjusts your hospital gown to cover it up again. “Alright,” he removed his gloves from the wrists seamlessly, “I’ll check the others now; you get some food in you and rest.”

“Wait,” you manage to blurt, “I’ve admired you for a long time I-,” you snapped your jaw closed, averting your eyes from his sharp golden ones. Finally, you continue, “I have a lot of questions I was hoping to ask.”

A smirk formed on Law’s face, “We can get to that later. I have my duties to tend to; I’m sure we’ll have time to talk later.”

Bepo smiled down at you as Law and the others walked off, they had already placed you back on the mat. You were still flustered, you felt a hint of sadness to watch Law go. “Say,” Bepo rubbed his furry chin, “Why are you still in mink form?”

“I feel less… insecure,” you sigh, “it’s stronger, to help me move easier while injured, too. Plus, I don’t want to feel so exposed without fur.”

“I see… I think I get what you mean,” Bepo nods. “Well, I’ll keep helping my captain. I’m sure the Straw Hats will be here soon enough. I hope we see each other again,” he smiled that bright, inviting smile. “As Captain alluded to, that banquet is in order for us.”

You nod, beaming in return. Your eyes drift back to Law and his main crew members, checking the next patient’s progress. You had so many questions to ask, but your throat had tightened as he worked on your thigh. His fingers lifted your gown dangerously close to revealing your slit, the thought of his hands anywhere near it set your face alight. You swallow hard, on top of that, you had already been slick thanks to his pretty voice to begin with… What green thoughts, you scold yourself, it’s not as though he's Interested in minks.

You weren’t necessarily better, but you were stubborn. It wasn’t an entirely fresh wound, you were certain you could manage. You had heard the commotion outside and saw Law approaching the scene with his crew. Nekomamushi was sprawled out on his porch and Chopper was yelling about getting more blood for him. Looks like you aren’t the only hard headed mink. Curious, you watch Law interact with who you recognized as Straw Hat Luffy from newspapers. You giggle as the Hearts begin to chant about how it was unfair they couldn’t spent time with Law’s new friend. A thought pertaining to Law and Luffy’s connection shot thru your mind, but you wave it away as outside of your range of business for now.

It was settled that tonight there would be a banquet thanks to Nekomamushi. You were determined to interact with Bepo’s captain… it seemed easy enough as Bepo was always by his side. Your heart beat wildly, anxious you would slip up.

You make your way to his crew that night as they were spread out enjoying their meals around camp fire with the Straw hats. You laugh and greet them, watching them heartily scarf meat and drink. “Hey!” Penguin called you over, he looked tipsy yet again. Law sat beside him on a log, watching you approach as he bit into some roasted fish. “Weren’t you going to introduce us to your human form, Y/N?” Penguin seemed eager.

“Yeah,” Shachi called out, also intoxicated, but keeping it together. “You promised us, aye?”

You grin brightly at them, “It is quite hot here, isn’t it. I suppose I could,” you gesture down at your clothes. It was a sleeveless turtleneck with an easily adjustable strap, so you’d tighten it as you transform. It covered you down to your mid thighs in this form, so it would easily cover you half way down your calves in human form. You didn’t quite realize how skimpy it looked, though. Their eyes were glued on you, Law’s mostly with curiosity.

You do it - you transform - an instant change shrinking you down to about 5’5 rather than your wolf forms original 6’2. You make quick work to tighten and adjust the uniform. The boys, including Law, sputter their drinks and food. The fire accented your curves, thick thighs, full breasts and your skin practically danced with color. They could see quite a bit of you… You hadn’t quite calculated how much of your chest would be covered. Due to the shrinkage, the front of your shirt sagged forward to reveal the sides of your breasts. How easily one could fist the fabric with one hand, fully exposing your breasts.

“Shoot,” you can’t help but snicker, “I didn’t account for this… But do you like it?” The boys simply nodded. You frown slightly at Law as he was clearly avoiding looking at you. You feel a flash of confidence. You walk over to him and lean forward, making just a touch more of the sides of your breasts visible, you press your face into his hat, “Garchu, thank you for helping me, Doctor~,” you practically purr, enjoying the texture of his soft hat.

Law stiffens under your touch. He was used to the minks minkshipping him left and right by now. Surprised to see breasts just passed the brim of his hat, he blushed furiously, but there was something else that interested him. He reached up to grab your arms firmly and guided you to stand before him. He looked you over, scanning your skin, then took an arm to look at the pigmentation closely. “Your skin is splotchy like mine is,” he commented, running fingers along your arm. You had lost your confidence. You just stood there, shaking with excitement. Your other hand is on his shoulder, you watch his inked fingers roll along. He was treating you like a cadaver, studying your flesh with cold clinical fascination. Penguin sits there in surprise, shocked at his captains behavior, but doesn’t comment.

“I rarely meet other people with leucism,” he didn’t elaborate further, he would have to divulge into sensitive topics he would rather avoid. Instead, he finally let you go, gently dropping your hand down. There was pink along his cheeks, he looked up at you and smirked, “I apologize.”

“It’s fine! I’d show you more, if you wanted,” you cleared your throat, realizing that may have been too forward. Law laughed, the low, smooth sound set your face ablaze. Penguin and Shachi – who had walked over a second ago to join his best friend – stared with slack jaws.

“I’d take you up to the offer, but there’d have to be a good reason,” he shook his head, brows furrowed, a grin spreading. “I respect people’s bodies, you shouldn’t be treated like some display. But, next time I check your leg I might look a little longer.” the last few words were laced with humor.

You let out a sigh, trying to release some tension. You smile back at him now, your hand on his shoulder retracts back to you, “I really don’t mind,” you pause a moment, playing with your hand. After focusing back on his handsome face, heart fluttering, your eyes become half lidded, and as clearly as you can manage you say, “I can strip for you, too, if you’re interested. I have a lot of questions, Mr. Trafalgar. I’ll pay you for some answers.”

Law shakily leaned forward, bringing the brim of his hat down over his face. He wasn’t sure how to respond, his crewmates were silent at first, then began to cheer and shook Law. You back up, laughing at their antics. Deciding to leave them for now, you head for Bepo, who had noticed the commotion.

“What’s going on?” Bepo tilted his head.

“Nothing,” you beam at him. “I was just saying silly things, it made them laugh. Hello, Doctor Chopper,” you look down beside Bepo and gently took the much littler mink’s hoof. “Thank you for treating me! All of you, thank you.”

Chopper smiled happily and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Hehe, you idiot! I don’t even know who you are, bastard! When did I help you? I’ve only treated minks so far.”

Unable to control yourself you burst out laughing, hearing such a cute voice curse was hilarious. You wipe a tear away to finally respond, “You’re the mink who helped me, right? I’m that wolf you were told has a devil fruit that boosts my strength.”

“Huh?!” Chopper was amazed, “Well, first of all I’m a reindeer not a mink! Second of all, what?! You’re human!”

You shake your head, “Well, you’re not a mink and you look like one, don’t you? I’m a human thanks to my devil fruit. I was a wolf when you met me.”

“Oh,” Chopper claps his hooves together, “Is that a human-human fruit then? Like mine?”

“Is that what yours is?” You tilt your head, not seeing him resembling a human at all, “That’s odd, it turns you into a mink rather than a lesser mink? Er, but yes, that’s right.”

Chopper nodded, “Hmm… this is fascinating. How a zoan fruit affects a mink vs an animal vs a human. Very fascinating!”

“Enough about that,” It was Shachi that ran over, “Uhm, Y/N, my Captain wanted to uh, see to your wounds again after the banquet.”

A blush threatened to bloom yet again on your cheeks. “I see,” you giggle, “He had to send someone in his behalf?”

Shachi chortled, rubbing the back of his neck, “He was pretty out of his element when you said all that…stuff. Anyway, um, I’ll be there and so will Penguin, so its, um, not meant to be related to that…”

Taking a bite of a marshmallow you grabbed from a bag Chopper had with him, you nod. Shachi quickly twirled around back to where his captain sat. You lean forward to peer over at the group, seeing Shachi pick up his drink and give Penguin, Law and the girl you remember named Ikkaku a toast. Luffy popped up to be included, along with Zoro. Law stole a glance your way, meeting yours immediately. You could see the nervousness in them as he glanced away, but then he met your eyes again, trying to maintain some conviction. You smile at him, hand on your cheek, and he averts his gaze to his drink. How cute.

“So, Captain,” Shachi nudged Law as they came down from their laughter. The other additions besides Penguin had moved on. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sneak away with anyone before and I’ve known you my entire life. Are you a virgin?”

Law rolled his eyes, “Classified,” he took a sip of his drink.

Penguin chuckled, “Aren’t you, Shachi?”

“No!” Shachi drunk rosey cheeks bloomed redder, his teeth grit, “I-I’ve been approached by girls before!”

“I bet you’ve had sex with each other,” Law retorted. They both go silent, faces clearly looking away. “Nailed it,” he mused, “and don’t go into detail about it, either. I don’t care if it involved penetration,” leaving the two to their floundering, he stood to fetch himself some water. He shot a glance your way as he went.

Have sex? With a stranger? That’s absurd. Sure, I’m a pirate, I could do what I want, but what good is it if I don’t love them… Law’s thoughts trailed off, he looked down at himself. Tch, idiots. I’ve never had anyone interested in me. Well, maybe Zoro or Luffy have hinted, but, gah! Be vulnerable like that with rivals? Insane. No. Regular civilians have never had the guts to approach me, even if they did find me attractive. Otherwise it’s always been shitty pirates I’ve fought, flirting with me to mock me. What’s there to like anyway?

Law serves himself some water at the table they’d been eating at half an hour ago. There was still plenty of food on the table, Sanji had made sure it was covered before heading off to drink. He felt a tad queasy looking at the food, he wasn’t used to eating so much. Am I nervous? He thought, looking down again. He unbuttons his shirt to look down at the gauze still wrapping his abdomen. I’m still bandaged up, too. I don’t want to risk – what am I thinking?! I’m not going to go anywhere alone with that person! Nothing’s going to open my wounds because I’m not doing anything.

His cheeks flushed and he stood there, leaning against the tree next to the tables edge, tapping his foot anxiously. They were interesting, though. Seeing more of them would be interesting. They’re a mink who can turn human! Isn’t that just interesting? Sure minks parts could differ specie to specie, but if they’re human they should be the same… Mink’s aren’t well documented, maybe it calls for research…

His foot tapped faster, he lowered the hood of his cap. No one knows. I can’t just lie with strangers! No one knows! They can’t know, I don’t know them to tell them that.

“Hello,” came a voice that had burned into his memory. The seductive words that had tumbled out of them only minutes ago still echoed in his head, “Are you okay?”

He froze, only his eyes looked down at you, but he tried to play it off and shifted his leg to rest his foot against the tree. “I’m fine, Wolf Mink-ya,” he sipped to distract himself.

To his shock, although he didn’t move away, you feel up his bicep, running your fingers over the gauze like feathers. “When did you get hurt?” Your voice was casual.

Law felt sweat on his brow, unsure what to do or what to say without stuttering. They’re a mink, of course they’re so touch, he reasoned this matter-of-factly. Plus, I grabbed their arm earlier. I suppose it’s only fair.

When the silence stretched a second too far you look him over. You giggle, “I thought the check up Shachi mentioned was just for checking my wound, right?”

Law wasn’t sure what you meant. He hadn’t said anything. “What?”

You tap your own nose, “I smell a bit of… excitement, that’s all.”

Law’s face went beat red, “Huh?! Of course it’s only for a checkup,” he slammed the cup onto the table, earning some looks from the others. He hesitated, “I’m sorry for yelling.”

You were laughing, though, the biggest grin on your face. “It’s okay! No need to be embarrassed. It’s normal, right? I’m happy you like how I look. You’re way out of my league, so pretty.” He staggered, unsure if to leave or to stay. “I see,” you continue, “You’re a little flighty, aren’t you? I’ll stop bothering you if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” Law took in a long, deep breath, then sighed. “I’m usually on people’s to-avoid list.”

“I can tell by that grimace on your face,” you pinch his elbow lightly, “and I’ve read why people fear you. I think your powers are cool. Hot, even.”

He glared at you, "You said you had questions,” he took your hand away from his arm, but he didn’t let it go. “You said you want to pay me. You’re bribing me. Why? What are the questions?”

“Well,” a coy smirk graced your face, “first, what happened to your arm, sir?”

Law’s breath hitched, his grip on your fingers tightened. “Fine,” he took your forearm into his other hand. He could feel the other’s eyes boring into him. “I just arrived from Dressrosa. Doflamingo, the now former king, sliced off my arm,” he reached under your arm, encircling your upper arm with his pointer and thumb to indicate where the cut occurred. “The Tontatta, a race of tiny people, helped reattach my arm thanks to the Heal-Heal fruit their princess ate. Satisfied?”

You blush under his intense eyes, searing into yours as though searching something. Your breathing and your pupils fully betray you, your lungs working harder and your pupils blown out. “I’d like to see it,” you mumble. Law aggressively shoved your arm down, though not intending to hurt you, and struts off angrily. You watch his back fondly, it seemed you’d pushed him a bit too far. Giggling, you shake your head.

After the banquet you prepared to head home. Some of the pirates and mink were already asleep on the ground, full of food and drunk. As you made your way away from the Heart Pirates, all but a few sound asleep, you wave good bye and head off towards your home.

“Wolf mink-ya,” your wolf ears perk towards the sound of Law’s voice, your heart rate picks up. He hadn’t been around for the last bit of the banquet, he’d stormed off to sort his thoughts.

Excited, you whirl and startle him as you jumped into his arms, rubbing your nose into his cheek. You felt the skin of his face burning, his strong arms had instinctively cradled you and firmly squeezed your thighs, mostly out of reflex. Although, it didn’t help his bright tomato colored face to realize he was doing so. Realizing that likely hadn’t been a good idea, you jump down. He grimaced at your mischievous grinning face.

“I-I need to check your injury,” he maintained a relatively calm voice.

“Why not at my home?” You invite him, gently taking his hand. You saw his eyes dart to the side, contemplating his choices.

“No,” he stated firmly, “I need my tools. Come with me to my temporary place of residence.”

“Sure,” you flutter your eyelashes at him, he simply sighs and drags you along. Once at said abode, you see the home of one of the districts minks had accommodated the home for visitors. The rooms upstairs were for Law and his close crew, while the other stayed in separate dwellings altogether. Once the door was closed behind you two, you awkwardly stroll to his bed. He takes your wrist.

“I know I didn’t bring my crewmates but we aren’t fucking alright?” His grip was tight. “I just need to check you.” You nod meekly, following his instruction to lie on the bed and lift your turtlenecks hem. You do so, rolling it up to your thigh, making sure your core was still covered. Law had gotten his gloves and set his silver dish of tools on the night table.

He lit the candle on the table so he could see properly. Using his thumb, he gently rolled your leg to the side with your compliance so he got a view of your inner thigh. He stares for a moment, you caught him glimpsing at the hem of your top. You huff, holding the fabric a bit further between your legs in response. His hand squeezed your thigh as though to reassure you, but to you it looked like he was holding back his frustration.

“You… Can look, if you want,” you whisper, wondering if he even heard you.

A sharp exhale told you he did. “Will it shut you up?” He asked pointedly.

You snort, finding his faux annoyance amusing. You lifted the hem, your underwear wet along your slit. You watched his eyes scan, then widen. He reached out and pulled the underwear to the side with his thumb, making you squeak in surprise. “It’s purple,” he stated, “Your inner flesh is purple.” Lips pressed into a line, you stifle a laugh. Quickly, he pulls his hand away and exchanges the glove for a new one. “Sorry,” he mutters, cutting away at the gauze on your leg.

You watch him work, the candle light flickering along his features. His face was stoic with focus, but his eyes did glance to you on occasion. “Didn’t you have questions?” His soft voice jolted you back to reality.

“You have been sailing for about five years, haven’t you?”

“I’d say about 10 years,” he began to wrap your leg anew, “but our names have been big for around 5, sure. How would a mink know?”

“We get news coo,” you said simply.

“I see,” he finished, removed his gloves and turned to look at you, “Sit up, we’re done.” You do as you’re told, but you promptly wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. He is stiff, but doesn’t move away. With both hands, he gently removes your arms from his shoulders, scolding you when you take a bite of his cheek. “Quit that. Now what other questions? There’s no way that was it.”

“No,” you giggle like a school girl, rubbing your nose and lips against his sideburn, “I’d like to know about your travels, sir. They sound so exciting. What made you choose a submarine?”

Law cleared his throat, he seemed to enjoy the proximity as his hands held yours now. His thumbs absentmindedly pressed circles into your knuckles. “That’s… a personal question. But, the sub was created by a good friend of mine along with the blood, sweat and tears of my friends and myself. His name was Wolf, isn’t that ironic?” He mused.

You smile at him and he smiles back. Your heart flutters, eyes scanning his lips. He chuckles, letting go of one of your hands to press a thumb over your mouth. “I said we aren’t doing anything, okay?”

A whine escapes you, your wolf ears droop. “I’ve always wanted to meet you,” you confess, murmuring against the thumb, “I dream of diving the sea… it’s inspiring to me.” His lips unfurled at this revelation.

“Alright,” he gave you a peck on the cheek to catch your attention before you could nuzzle him again. “That was human affection,” he whispered into your ear, “Question?”

Excited, you caught his lips in a kiss. He promptly pulls away, his face flushed, his composure gone. “No!” He states firmly. His hands squeezed yours tightly, his fierce eyes glared into yours like daggers. “I can’t.”

“For a pirate, you aren’t very mean, are you?” You chortle, half lidded gaze making him waver. “Pirates should do and take what they want, right? But you don’t. That’s sweet.”

Frustration flashed in his eyes, he leaned forward and kissed you roughly, likely bruising your lips. As you parted, your panting was audible and so was his. “You need to shut up,” Law’s voice was dark, irritated. “Ask me more questions or get out.”

“I’m really we-“ your voice halts as he squeezes your throat.

“Questions. That is it, got it?” His grip is loose, but his fingertips twitched to threaten he’d tighten it.

“Let me join you,” you whisper.

The response was instantaneous. So fast in fact, you felt it wash away the heat inside of you. Your stomach bubbled like a cauldron, you felt like you wanted to vomit from the whiplash.

“Absolutely not,” the statement was matter-of-fact, instant, dry, cold.

“Why?” You choke out, wolf ears flattening against your head as he squeezed around your throat. Spots danced in your vision and an involuntary cough escapes you.

“You’re bribing me,” he said coldly. It wasn’t entirely false. “You’re a devil fruit user,” he loosened his grip, finally. “I have a policy against fruit users on my ship,” he turned away from you, the sensation of losing skin contact so much worse than his fingers controlling your airway.

“That’s my next question,” you reach out and grab his arm, your wolf tail curled and fluffed up, displaying your desperation. “Why don’t you let devil fruit users join?!”

He stopped, looked back at you, then scoffed. “You don’t get it? It’s a submarine. I refuse to let anyone who can’t swim join my crew. It’s a burden. If anything happens, that person dies, so they are prioritize to be saved. It isn’t right.”

Tears swelled along the edges of your eyes. A feeling washed over you: Caged; there is no making this better. You clench your teeth, you grab at his chest. “Then do something,” you beg, “You’re leaving, so please!”

“Do what?” He was amused by your pain. “Use your words,” he teased you despite your vulnerability.

The clap sound echoed through the room. Law stared in disbelief, his cheek stung thanks to the slap you landed. “Be mean to me, you stupid pirate,” there was acid in your voice, betrayed by your puffy red face.

Law stood up and slotted himself between your legs. Promptly, you wrap your arms around his waist and cry into his belly. “Please,” your pathetic begging continues.

Shifting in place – you felt it and squeezed his waist – Law contemplated his decisions. The district was asleep, the sun was rising, they wouldn’t wake until 6 PM. No one was in this house; no one but you and him. “I have some questions for you, now,” his husky voice almost cracked. You tense up. He continued without your response, “Do you like it when someone degrades you, Wolf Mink-ya?”

“Call me Omi,” you whisper.

“Omi?”

“It was a nickname I had as a child.”

“… So is that a yes to my question?” You feel his chuckle vibrate against your face.

You nod, a blush burning your cheeks.

“I can’t hear you, you slut,” he hissed.

“I do,” you buried your face further into his stomach. “I do. I do!”

He grabs your hair, pulling you back. You whimper under his scrutinizing gaze, he seems to smirk at the sight of your reddened lips, your tear stricken cheeks. “Next question,” his backed up in order to lean into your face, “Do you like pain, Omi-ya?”

You hesitate. Your eyes avert from his dark eyes, the gold color framed his dilated irises like hoops. He looked so much scarier close up, when he was serious, when he was hungry. “Y-yes,” you whisper. In response, he bites your jaw, making you jump.

“Good,” he promptly shoved you back onto the bed. Leaning over you, his body pressing tantalizingly onto yours, he breathed into your ear. “Green, yellow or red. Yellow to pause, green to go, red to stop. Do you understand, little wolf?”

Blood rushes thru you. Your core once again pooled with heat, you writhe to get comfortable. “Hn… Yes, sir. Green, sir.” You pout as he stands again, leaving you cold. Gooseflesh tingles along your arms as you feel your underwear be pulled down, then your legs pulled up by the ankles. He was staring. You reach up to cover your face from the embarrassment, yelping when he reached down and spread your folds with cold, clinical fascination. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, not to cause pleasure but to trace the anatomy. Your convulse at the sensation. His fingers, A, then T, dip into your aching entrance, making you groan. He chuckled, pushing them in further, turning them to inspect your walls.

“You’re so wet, how pathetic,” his voice is flat. “You desperate thing, expecting me to recruit you because you cry?” The ice in his voice made you flinch. “You think you could make it at sea like this? Let’s see how well you follow Captain’s orders.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you squeak.

“No, Captain,” he frowned. He removed his fingers, lifted your ankles into the air with his left hand. His right hand promptly descends on your ass, hitting you hard enough to echo in the room. He grins at your protests, slapping you a second time for doing so. “Don’t complain,” he rubbed the reddening spot with his palm, enthusiastically eating up the sight. “So wet,” he muses, “and it’s only getting worse. How weak, no holding back at all. You can’t disguise how much you want me to fuck you, can you.” He traces the patterns of your skin along your thighs.

“Do you like it?” Another slap to the same reddening spot, “Do you like me being in control? Is that what you’ve always dreamed of?” And another slap, tears prickled in your eyes and your screams and whimpers grow louder. “Did you fantasize over my wanted poster? How many times?” He suddenly flips you, your legs now between his thighs so you are locked in place. He reached out, you feel his slender fingers bury themselves in your ass cheeks. You shakily groan from the pleasure.

“Look at you,” he taunted, “So submissive. No fight in you, huh? Not an ounce.” His hands feel up your ass, then using both thumbs he trailed along the center until they reached the base of your tail. He grinned, the curled tail slowly began to fluff up from anticipation. He grasps the base and pulls ever so slightly.

“Ahhhhn~!” You lift your ass slightly towards him in response. He laughs at you, thumb prodding at your asshole, making you writhe. The sound of his laughter was one of mockery, but you still loved it, you swore you’d come on this alone if he kept this up. You tense up when a slap descended on your untouched cheek, hard enough to indicate he was determined to mark it.

“Do you like the idea of being unable to sit thanks to me?” He chided, “Whore, you’re in serious need of a leader, huh? You need someone to keep you in check. I bet, more than anything, you want to be my toy, don’t you?” At those words you shutter and he definitely felt it, he slapped you extra hard. He squeezed the reddening spot firmly, extending your squeal.

You hear him huff in frustration. He removes your legs from between his, then spreads them so your knees are propping you up. All the while, his right hand is gripping the base of your tail. You wonder what he was planning. Your whole body quakes as a warm, wet tongue slides over your slit, stopping to stuff itself into your entrance. A long winded moan overtakes you, you rut your hips to press further into his face. The rumble his throat made caused your walls to vibrate.

He backs away from you, you shiver as the air cooled the spit and fluid around your glistening entrance. “Please,” you muffle into the sheets. “Please fuck me.”

Law’s dark chuckle caught your ears. “I can’t,” he said. He flips you over, your legs submissively open to him. He laughs, giving your vulva a firm slap. “I don’t even know you, Omi-ya. In fact, I’m still fully dressed.” Before you could respond his long fingers stuff you, three of them. Your moans spill out as he massaged your g-spot, pressing up against you and dry humping against your thighs. You open one of your screwed shut eyes just to squint down. There isn’t a bulge in his pants as far as you could see. Curious. You could smell his testosterone, his arousal, his sweat, so why couldn’t you see it?

The knot inside you coils tightly at his ministrations. Your insides were so sensitive from all the teasing, it was no wonder you were about to gush. You look down, feeling his other hand snake up to grab the fabric over your chest, bunching it together to fully reveal your breasts. His hand left the fabric between your breasts and massaged the right one. You buck your hips at the sensation, moans quickening at both areas being pleasured. He leans over you and licks your nipple, sucking and nibbling with his front teeth. Your back arches, you sing his name as the knot came undone, your cum spills onto Law’s palm, splashing his wrist and pants.

You try to catch your breath, glancing down at his face as he loomed over you. It’s flushed again, he seemed taken aback by something. He cleared his throat and left to find a towel for you. You close your eyes, focusing on relaxing your lungs. After the sound of brief hand washing at the sink, you flinch as he wiped you up with the towel.

“Don’t you want help?” You murmur to him. He stared at you a moment, then shook his head. “Why?” You furrow your brows.

“I need a shower,” he mumbled half to himself, “I had plenty of fun already, it’s fine.” Sitting up, you indicate you want to unbutton his shirt. He snickered at you, “Still not tired, huh?” He allowed you to do so, revealing the gauze around his torso and the tattoo splayed across his chest.

You stare at his chest, your hand moves up to trace his tattoo. As busy as his chest was with tattoos and patches of light skin, you could see a long thin scar under his pecks. You trace the scar tissue with both hands on either end of it, spreading your finger tips along it’s length. His breathing quickened under your hands. Glancing up, you see he is staring at you, but there’s a hint of distrust in his eyes. Curious, you slowly bring your hands down his abs, then his happy trail. He winced and grabbed your hands before they could wrap around his belt.

“I can’t,” he insisted. “We’re done, okay? I need to shower,” he gently put your hands in your own lap. His hands held them for a little longer, then he rose them to your chest and adjusted your sweater to cover your breasts.

“Where will you go when you set sail again?” You whisper. It caught his attention, he sighed.

“Wano,” he stated. “We are going to face Kaido.”

“What?!” Your eyes widen in disbelief. You grab his shirt on either sides. “You can’t!”

He smiled, shaking his head, “You can’t stop me. It’s good you know the degree of danger that is. You’ve heard of the King of the Beasts, Kaido?”

“I have,” tears were in your eyes again, “If you have to face him, you’ll die.”

“Possibly,” he frowned, “but according to my plans, it should be possible to avoid confrontation. Now you see, huh? Being a pirate isn’t about having fun,” he gripped your chin firmly. “You aren’t coming. Got it?” You swallow your pride and look away. You don’t respond. “Got it?” he snapped, bringing your face back to attention. “You have to accept my rules. My first rule: No Devil Fruit Users. I’m sorry.”

Blinking away tears, you lean in to bite his lip. He doesn’t reciprocate, he allows you to bite and kiss his lips without responding. At some point however, your feel him smile under your affection. You cup his face, kissing him firmly until he finally did so back. He sighed through his nose and parted your lips.

“I’m telling you,” he whispered, tone gentle- almost loving. “I can’t do any more. I’ll take you back to your house; you can’t stay here,” he stood, taking your hand in his. Reluctantly, you do as he says, lowering and smoothing your oversized turtleneck back in place. Sleep began to tug at you, the night having been exhausting and the daylight already warming the bodies of the people on the ground. Together, you both walk out of the home and into said clearing. Shielding your eyes from the sun, you guide Law back to your home.

#my fanfics #one piece #trafalgar law #lawomi #trafalgar law x oc #heart pirates #trafalgar law x reader #trans trafalgar law #law fanfic #law fanfiction

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3xm-draconic · 1 year ago

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The Jester and The Courier: a wild wasteland love

After dinner Boone took his chance to talk to his old friend about her behavior, “Myrt”, “not now Booney”, “no Myrt we need to talk” the sniper gripped her arm, not hard but just enough to keep her from leaving so soon.

Myrtle sighed frustratedly “what?”, “you are acting really weird…are you OK?” he said, Myrtle snapped “IAM FINE BOONE”, Boone looked at her sadly “are you?...” he hushly sighed.

Myrtle sighed “I am, I’am gonna die here in a month and there is nothing I can do to stop it, I am fine with it, I’am ok with dying young” she wanted to sarcastically admit “...I’am just having an episode Boone…I just need ME time” she lied.

She walked up to her bed room and found her bottle of vodka and mentats, she crunched on a few of the minty candy chems and chugged the vodka, Rex whimpered from under her bed, “oh puppers” she slumped down “if only you knew what I was going though…then you’d be drinking with me”.

Rex trotted out from under the bed and snuggled up next to her, his head on her lap “I’am gonna die Rex…I know I can’t kill Lanius, I killed Ceaser with it being purely on my dumb madman’s luck” she drank more of her vodka “how am I gonna kill that big bitch when he’s armored like a fucking tank?”

Rex licked her face, “thanks Rexie-baby, I know I can trust you not to spill my secrets…mainly cuz you can’t talk” she snickered.

Cicero managed to slip his bandaged hand out of the cuff again and then got to work using the metal pins he had squirreled away earlier, he broke 4 of them but finally after a prayer to the Night Mother the 5th one had set him free.

He got up and searched the top drawer of the dresser, maybe there would be something useful inside, eh well there were more pins and…a strange book.

“Programer’s Digest” Cicero pondered what that was but he took it with him anyway. Slinking through the shadows of the house like a serpent he snuck his way to the kitchen, there he finally got his hands on what he was looking for…

A big sharp knife…but then the door creaked open…

Strange men in…Cicero gawked…they looked like they were in imperial legion armor, but how were they here? Had they too somehow gotten banished into this strange world?

“Ave, true to Ceaser” one said “erimus ultores eius” another saluted as the snuck into the house.

Cicero watched from the shadows as the strange men who looked like imperial soldiers place odd small metal disks on the floor all around the room; they then left but Cicero could see from the window from their faint silhouettes outside that they were still there, hiding.

Myrtle felt peckish so she was going down stairs to grab a can of pork n beans from the fridge when she stopped, “tread lightly, danger is afoot my dear” the voice in her head hummed.

Myrtle took out Lucky from the holster on her thigh and scanned the room with her cybernetic eye, “shit” she grumbled as she saw a shit load of mines…a the little red head fucker about to touch one “DON’T DO THAT!” she screeched as she dove from the stairwell on top of him…

Ka-BOOM!

All the mines whent off at the same time…

Cicero’s ears were ringing and his vision blurry but overall he was…unharmed? The metal woman, Myrtle, had used her body to shield him from the blast…AND SHE WAS STILL ALIVE TOO!?

Cicero stared at this woman, she in her rather…revealing…nightwear was more than just a metal eye…

Her scarred body was a mix of metal and machine, her legs, one of her arms, her heart and her spine were all mechanical, “Sithis…” he whispered under shaky breath “what are you?”, she gazed into his bewildered shocked eyes “mad that’s what” she hissed.

“PRO CEASER!” cried Legionary assassins as they barged in through the door, Myrtle despite many of her limbs cripled and injured still had VATS to deal with them and besides, they had funneled themselves through her doorway.

Boom, Boom, Boom!

Three whent down with a few well placed headshots, the 4th man tried to make a beeline out of Novac…but was promptly shot multiple times, each by a different gunman.

Boone, Cass, Joshua, Ulysses and Gannon all fired at him, poor bastard as pocked full of holes in a single second.

“PUMPKIN?!” Lily cried out as she stomped her way to Myrtle’s room, “Myrt you ok?” her friends barged in as Rex ran down the stairs to her aid.

“Iam ok…just bleeding…” she laughed “ow…shit I should not do that it hurts when I laugh” she chuckled, she looked down at Cicero who she was…well to put it in layman's terms…straddling.

“OK YOU” she snapped “HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET OUT and HOW DID LIGION SOLDIRS GET INTO MY HOUSE?!”, she pointed Lucky at his head.

Cicero gulped, he SAW what that little metal thing could do… “Cicero snuck out, yes but he had nothing to do with the soldiers, honest, honest!” he squeaked. Myrtle glared at him and cocked the hammer back “why’d you sneak out?”, Cicero gulped, he started to feel…funny…in this compromising position, a weapon drawn on him and her…well…her dominating over him…it felt weird…and he weirdly liked it. “Cicero…” he sighed “Cicero wanted to escape, BUT HE NEVER WANTED TO HARM YOU” he lied.

Myrtle eyed him…

Cicero could not help but find this whole thing…weirdly enticing…it HAD been a while since he had gotten a look at a LIVING woman…and despite all the metal bits…she was quite a looker.

She sighed and holstered her weapon “I still don’t trust you, but believe you when you say you had nothing to do with the Legion, you don’t give off the same vibe as them” she grumbled.

Gannon and Joshua helped her up and began working on her injuries, Cicero was about to sneak away when he bumped into something…someone.

“Oh hello deary” said a gruff voice, Cicero looked up and saw a strange sight, they looked like a troll…or a small giant…that was blue.

Cicero was so confused, “What?”, “I’am so sorry about this” the blue mini giant said as she gripped Cicero in a tight hug “you can cuff him now Ulysses”.

Cicero was again now cuffed and now again having to come up with an escape plan…good thing he had hidden those pins in his hair.

As the dawn broke, Myrtle and her companions set out for the new vegas medical center, 1: to take Cicero there to get his brain looked at and 2: to get some of Myrtle’s cybernetics fixed.

Myrtle had Cicero be placed on top of a strange beast, it looked like a goat…but a monstrously big goat with half its skull missing, “don’t worry, Daisy-do, ain’t gonna hurt ya” said the blue mini giant.

“You ain’t ever seen a bighorner have ya?” Myrtle laughed.

They then set out on the highway…

#fanfic #au #skyrim #crossover #fallout new vegas #fallout oc #fallout fanfiction #cicero x female oc #skyrim cicero #cicero

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joysofescapism · 1 year ago

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Book Review: Triple-Duty Bodyguards by Lily Gold

One celebrity diva in trouble. Three overprotective bodyguards determined to keep her safe. As one of the world’s most hated celebrities, I’m used to unwanted attention. But when I wake up one morning to find a mysterious man has broken into my house, I know I need security, fast. Enter “The Angels”, my three ex-SAS bodyguards: Glen, the Scottish sweetheart with the scarred face and gentle hands. Kenta, the long-haired soldier with the tattooed skin and secretive smile. And Matt, the blue-eyed, bad-tempered leader haunted by his military past. Having three gorgeous men guarding me 24-7 sounds like a dream come true, but it turns out to be a nightmare. They’re always here, watching me. Caring for me. Protecting me. They tell me to ignore them and go about my business, but I can’t even think with them so close. The spark is too intense. On top of that, we don’t get on. They think I’m a demanding diva. I think they’re overdramatic. When a trip to America sends the guys’ protective instincts into overdrive, the sizzling tension between us finally breaks, and I learn my bodyguards’ biggest secret: they want me. All three of them. Meanwhile, my stalker’s behaviour is becoming more and more alarming. He’s photographing me through windows and following me in the shadows. With the premiere for my next movie coming up, will my three bodyguards be able to keep me safe from his clutches? Or will my terrifying pursuer finally get his deadly way?

Read my full review of Triple-Duty Bodyguards below the cut.

I love the banter on this! Everything was alright, but the characters and the dialogue were what I loved the most.

I adore Briar Saint as the heroine, and I like that she is consistent throughout the whole book. Matthew Carter, Kenta Li, and Glen Smith were also amazing. Ex-SAS military turned bodyguards who went through a very traumatic experience on their last tour. Matthew is the mandatory H with the trauma baggage, Kenta is the one who holds them all together, and Glen is the quiet supportive one. I would also give points to how the guys’ relationships are portrayed. We love to see supportive and openly affectionate manly men. But I was also left wanting more from them! Briar is the main focus of the story, but I would love to see more from the guys.

This is why I barely read standalone! I believe that lovable characters should be given more spotlight. Those cannot be fully portrayed in standalone books. But alas, we need to try or we’ll miss out on all the fun.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

The plot was just fine. Predictable, nothing major, but the characters made up for all its faults.

What I didn’t like was the stalker’s POV. He’s not that interesting to have dedicated chapters of his own. Perhaps that was the point? And the reason for it is to build further resentment for him. But eh, not for me.

Last thought: I would read Triple Duty Bodyguards again if I wanted something short and sweet. I highly recommend this to anyone who wants a snarky heroine and embodies real bad bitch energy.

GoodReads | Storygraph | Instagram

#book review #triple duty bodyguards #author: lily gold #reverse harem #whychoose #contemporary romance #rating: 4/5 stars #spice level: 4/5 #harem size: small (3-4)

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mangostarjam · 10 months ago

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OKAY HEAR ME OUT I sent this to one other person and I feel like maybe you’d also vibe with this but PLEASE DONT FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE TO RESPOND OR WRITE ABOUT THIS I JUST LIKE SHARING THOUGHTS

So like Hoshina is lowkey possessive(not like scary kind but the kind where it’s like “hey that’s my gf wtf”) and lets say his s/o is a platoon leader and people have noticed that she has a bite scar where her neck and shoulder meet(maybe one of the rookies likes her oooooh 👀) and there’s rumors and NO ONE KNOWS HOSHINA HAS A MATCHING BITE SCAR ON HIS NAPE BECAUSE ITS ALWAYS COVERED BY HIS COMPRESSION SHIRT(and then Kafka notices in the bath ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE VICE CAPTAIN IS MARRIED) AND JOKES ON EVERYBODY BECAUSE HIS WIFE IS ALSO POSSESSIVE(or maybe she got fed up with his shit once and bit him back lol)

OKAY ANYWAYS I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME PLEASE MAKE SURE TO REST AND DRINK WATER BYE

-🐌

bless you snail anon i was ignoring some hardcore writer's block and this jump started something in my brain

bathtime revelations — hoshina soshiro x f!reader, established (secret) relationship, reader is a platoon leader, some minor narumi slander (sorry buddy. love that loser but it had to be done), biting, marking, possessiveness, uhhhh hickeys, edging?? nothing descriptive though sorry not today, 1.7k words

"Did you get attacked by a kaiju there, platoon leader? That's a strange looking scar."

The remark is innocent enough. You've been a member of the Defense Force for ages, and it's only natural to have numerous scars and aching bones from all the missions and kaiju neutralizing. Especially since you're a platoon leader of the Third Division, and you've leapt into the thick of things time and again to help Captain Ashiro get the best possible angle for her killing shots.

It would be fine, except the scar in question is a neat ring of teeth marks at the juncture between your shoulder and neck, where you're sensitive.

"Oh... no, that's not. Um." Shit. You've taken some of the Vice Captain's newest officers for an afternoon training session, and they're all looking at you now as you fumble for an explanation that doesn't expose your relationship. "I didn't get attacked by a kaiju, don't worry."

"Eh?? But that looks like a bite mark, platoon leader!" Iharu's voice is loud. You frown at him.

"It wasn't a kaiju," you say firmly. That much, at least, is the truth. "Anyway, if you guys wanna stay alive with just as many battle scars as me, go run some laps!"

Whew. There's a murmuring grumble, but everyone obeys orders. The summer heat and humidity wears you out quickly, and in an effort to combat the drain, you've stripped down to a tank top and your uniform pants. The bite mark in question feels like a brand on your skin, a ring of slightly raised flesh that should blend in with your other scars except for the clear circle it makes. You watch the rookies run, but your mind drifts, thinking back to when you got that set of teeth marks on your skin. Your body warms at the memory. Stupid boyfriend with his stupidly sharp canines.

You snap back to attention as Kikoru and Reno jog past, their words floating towards you on the breeze —

"—looks like maybe human?"

"Definitely not kaiju. You think the platoon leader's still with the person who marked her?"

"Oh, we can't ask that. Hibino senpai will be devastated."

Oh, jeez. There's no way you can let your boyfriend hear anything about this —

"How's it goin', platoon leader?"

Shit. You turn to the Vice Captain of the Third Division and frown. "What're you doing here?"

Hoshina Soshiro smirks at you, taking the tiniest step closer into what most people would consider to be personal space. "Just checkin' on my lil' fledglings! They've still got breath to gossip, eh? Are ya lettin' 'em off easy today, platoon leader?"

"I was letting them run off some energy so they'd forget about this bite mark on my neck, you vampire," you mumble. Soshiro laughs, leaning just a bit towards you. The afternoon sun glints off his purple hair in sparkles that dazzle your eyes, though it's easy to get pulled into his orbit when he's so magnetizing. You catch yourself and bring your outstretched hand up to your face, rubbing at your nose instead of sinking your fingers into the fluffy strands like you intended.

"Sounds like someone's got a lil' crush on our fearsome platoon leader," Soshiro says quietly, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Not that I blame 'em since it's you we're talkin' about. Still, it'd be good to send a message, y'know? Should I refresh your marks tonight?"

Your face feels hot. "'Marks?' But only one of them is visible when I'm in uniform!"

"What about the bath? We should give Shinomiya somethin' to report, don'tcha think?" His low voice sends a shiver down your spine and you frown to hide how much it's affecting you. Your boyfriend tilts his head. "Fresh marks'll show 'em all you belong to me."

Something hot and sharp lances through you and you bite at your lip to hold in a whine at the words. "That won't work," your voice is breathier than you'd like, but Soshiro is watching you like he wants to eat you alive and it's thrilling and terrifying and not enough. "They won't know it's you unless we match."

He raises an eyebrow at that, but the corner of his lips twitch as he fights down a grin. "Good point, platoon leader. We should discuss this in my office later."

"You're a menace."

Soshiro's smile softens into something fond and he takes another tiny step closer, until the fabric of his jacket brushes against your bare shoulder. You inhale his scent — bright, woodsy, something intrinsically Hoshina Soshiro — and all of your muscles relax. "And you're too dang cute for your own good, my love. See ya later?"

You nod and salute as he walks away, biting down a silly grin as you watch him call out encouragements and teases to his rookies. They all respond with good cheer and an edge of fierce determination, and once Soshiro fully exits the training area you allow yourself to return to the task at hand. You know, possibly more than anyone else on base, how hard Soshiro works to take care of his officers. You aren't going to let him down.

... but maybe you'll die of embarrassment first.

"Platoon leader! Did you spar after our training session? I would've liked to join!" Kikoru says, coming closer eagerly as you begin washing up in the communal bath. Your hand slips along your leg as you jerk up in surprise and Kikoru visibly falters as she takes in your bruises.

"This was a... private session, Shinomiya. I'd be happy to spar with you another time, though." Your entire body is warm, and not from the steam wafting through the echoing room.

"Aah, yes, of course! Sorry to disturb you, platoon leader!"

You resume your scrubbing with a quiet snort, listening as her footsteps return to the corner where Akari and Hakua are clearly ready to pounce. The girls probably don't realize how much sound travels in the bath, but you can hear their hushed whispers and giggling as Kikoru reports back that you're covered in hickeys.

You press down on a few of the blossoming bruises between your thighs and snort again. There's no way these could pass as training bruises — they're too intentional, too close to your aching center where Soshiro paid special attention earlier in his office — without letting you reach your peak. Bastard.

He made sure to leave marks along your chest and neck and shoulders again, taking advantage of your tank top for its easy access to your skin. Only after begging and pleading did he finally remove his stupidly tight compression shirt for you to drag your nails down his back and shoulders, fingers fisting into his hair as he licked and sucked at your core. After he ripped away your orgasm, you made good on your promise and left your own marks on his skin, kissing and sucking along the strong column of his throat and shoulders and pumping him with your hand until he nearly came on your thighs. Two could play at that game, after all.

Your ears perk as you catch your boyfriend's name. "Vice Captain Hoshina says I'm improving rapidly," Kikoru says cheerfully, tossing her head back. She certainly has the right to boast — her combat power levels just keep rising. She's going to make both of you proud. "Someday I will beat him in a practice match!"

"I'd like him to spar with me," another officer giggles. "Have you seen his back? Defense Force men are really no joke."

You bristle automatically. You're used to it by now — Soshiro's hot — but it doesn't make it any easier to hear confirmation of the fact out loud. "What about Captain Narumi? He's got really nice arms!" another officer says.

"You mean Captain Ego?" The communal bath fills with laughter as the girls gossip. "He's good looking, too, but Vice Captain Hoshina in that shirt..."

You're done bathing and changing into your nighttime clothes when a loud commotion from the other communal bath erupts. You share a look with a few of the girls, but you take your time pulling on your clothes (Soshiro's shirt, your shorts, your panties mysteriously missing — though you're sure you'll find them safely tucked into Soshiro's own sleeping pants pocket later).

You come out of the changing room and blink. "Vice Captain, how could you?!" Kafka is wailing dramatically. "You've already beat me by taking my spot by Mina's side, but you're beating me in having a girlfriend, too?!"

"Hang on a sec, old timer! You've already got the 'childhood friend promise' with the Captain!" Iharu shouts. "Leave something for the rest of us!"

"My, my, what a fuss," Soshiro says, waving his fingers. You blink, but the vision before you doesn't change. Most of the men are shirtless, towels wrapped around their waists as they spill out into the hallway in their chaos, and Soshiro is no exception. You can clearly see the raised pink lines your nails left behind on his densely muscled back, even with the small clump of officers between you. "We're all gonna catch a cold standin' out here like this."

"Those bruises on his neck... they look... fresh..." Reno says, his bright gaze darting between his Vice Captain and your exposed neck. Belatedly, you swing a towel around your shoulders, but Reno's eyes widen and you groan inwardly. "The platoon leader has fresh bruises, too."

Soshiro turns and your eyes snag on the blossoming pink and purple along his neck and shoulders. A quiet satisfaction settles in your gut at the sight, and you can't help but grin. "Keep that up, Officer Ichikawa, and you'll end up getting snagged for the Investigations Unit."

"They look good on her, don't they?" Soshiro hums, raising an eyebrow as the officers put two and two together. He meets your eye from across the small group and smirks. "Ain't it nice, platoon leader? Matchin' with the Vice Captain?"

Your answering smile makes his face light up with a deep fondness. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

#kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kn8 fic #kaiju no. 8 fic #kaiju no. 8 #fujimail #COULDNT HELP MYSELF #🐌 anon #I DID INDEED VIBE WITH THIS #i hope you're resting and drinking water too!!#not quite what you described in your message but it ran away from me LOL #fuji writes!

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