#he is so confusing for even me the writer of him to figure out. like have y'all even felt like your characters hace had a mind of their own

[mad-hunts]

barton literally finding any excuse to be physically close to those who are, like, in his tight inner circle whenever he feels like he just cannot cope with things going on inside of his head or even on the outside by like... laying his head in his head in their lap / on their shoulder or something similar as they're hanging out. and whenever they're understandably confused by this, because this is the first time he's ever done anything like this, things only seem to get progressively more bewildering and maybe a little bit sad from there. and this is because he's just like ' hey, so i know this might be kind of a weird request, but don't judge me please. i'm just sooo tired of everything, so can you like... stroke my hair or something? '

and depending on whether they actually do it or not, i could imagine barton and this friend of his sort of forming this mutual understanding ( that's probably a mix of nonverbal and verbal ) that whenever he's feeling particularly bad or twisted up inside, he can come to them and just. curl up with them on the couch or something, like JSJSJ barton is honestly sooo confusing sometimes, y'all, because he'll actively seek out comfort from people he trusts in such a vulnerable human way but then he will turn around and kill someone in the most heinous way imaginable the next moment. like i'm currently going feral over this rn because WHATTT HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK but also... OUCH??? i'm not sure how to feel about this if i'm being honest because it definitely demonstrates that barton does genuinely feel thing's despite what some people might think but he's also a terrible person so

[runa-falls]

FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?

a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me

special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol

cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.

wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)

---

miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.

sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.

you're spoiled, really.

miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).

miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.

he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.

he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.

he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.

he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.

you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.

he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.

you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).

you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.

he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.

as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.

it didn't last for long.

you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.

just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.

his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.

he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.

you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.

he doesn't react.

somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.

he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.

it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.

"...baby."

"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.

you huff.

"but--"

"not right now."

you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...

you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).

"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.

you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.

"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.

"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.

he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.

"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.

he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.

his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.

"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.

he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.

you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.

he's so good at this, too good at this.

how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?

you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.

you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.

his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.

his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.

you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.

before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.

"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.

"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."

so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.

but he's hard.

he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.

so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.

you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.

it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.

you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.

he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.

you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.

but he ignores it.

he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).

you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.

it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.

until you arent.

you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.

you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--

your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.

"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.

he says your name once more.

"you're working."

"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"

"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"

"cariño..."

"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.

you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."

well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?

you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.

you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)

he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.

"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"

you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.

he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.

you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.

you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.

he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.

maybe just a few minutes?

LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....

[tbaluver]

When You're On Your Period- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff, comfort a/n: posting my drafts atm bc i just have writers block sorrys /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He's not particularly educated in the realm of menstruation. So when he saw you clutching your sides in agony, he was so worried about you and ran to your side. He thought you were sick or injured. You try to explain to him that you're just on your period and he eagerly listens to you as you explain it to him.

It's his mission to try and make everything easy for you and makes a special effort to bring you things that might make you feel a little better.

"Can you buy me pads with/out wings?" And he would be really confused at first. He would think you want pads and wings. He would stand in the aisle for a while figuring out which ones you needed. So he'll come back home with a BUNCH of menstrual products with wings from your favorite restaurant.

But also the type to buy you your favorite snacks and drinks before you even ask. Sometimes he'll come home with a small plushie for some support.

Lowkey worried if you're going to be alright but he knows you're strong and will remind himself that you know how to handle yourself.

He would gently massage any areas that were aching. Lots of your time is spent in his arms or resting your head on his chest and he explains that the health website says its "beneficial" to do so and you're not complaining. He's so comfy.

Zayne:

In the beginning of your relationship, he was kind of inexperienced in this department. He knew some knowledge about the menstrual cycle but not too much so he made sure to educate himself so he knows how to take better care of you.

He runs down to the pharmacy to get you some pain medication and any menstrual products you need without any ounce of embarrassment. He doesn't find a reason to feel ashamed or embarrassed about getting you things for your period. Makes sure you have enough supplies to last you the whole week.

Prepares you some yummy warm foods that are nutritious for you and all cooked to your liking. He would also make sure to run down to your favorite bakery to pick you up some baked goods.

If you suffer from cramps, then he would find the best pill for you or make you effective tea. He'll also offer any massages you want on your body and let's just say this man is good with his hands that you don't want his hands off of you.

The type to not tell you that you stained the bed. He'll prepare you a soothing bath while he washes the sheets. When you come back the bed is nice and warm.

He'll start marking it down on his calendar so he can be prepared more in the future

Rafayel:

He would kind of forget periods are a thing but once you remind him, he'll try his best to take care of you. He has good intentions looking out for you and getting whatever you need. You would text him if he can get something for you and he's already on his way to you with whatever you requested.

He'll pay attention to your specific needs and preferences. He'll make sure you're getting your rest, staying hydrated, and eating well.

Would joke around and call this "Shark week." Would pray to any gods to bring mercy on him if he were to ever to be sassy to you on your period.

He'll be worried about you but he knows that you're strong. That doesn't mean he'll leave you alone during this time, unless you want him too. He'll be there to try and ease everything as much as he could.

If you were to have any bad cramps, he would give your lower abdomen a small massage while talking too it. "Hey don't be so mean to my cutie....." or sometimes he'll tell you some stories about Lemuria or maybe hum you a song in Lemurian to get your mind off it. Your head would be resting on his chest, his hands massaging gently into your aching sides.

It's easy to fall asleep in his arms because he can be so warm from his evol

He'll offer to make you a bath and gather your favorite bath bombs and your oils that might ease your discomfort. He would have the perfect temperature for you and would help undress you and help you into the bathtub. Would also feed you some yummy fruits like a princess while you were in the bath

Sylus:

Sylus treats you like royalty the entire time you're on your period. He's extra patient and understanding. You don't have to feel embarrassed at all with him and he will never be disgusted by you being on your period.

If you ever stained the bed, he would clean it up for you. He would reassure you that everything is okay and that bleeding is normal. He'll help run a bath for you while he cleans the sheets. He would never use these situations against you or even embarrass you about it.

He's always there to give you a massage knowing how bad cramps can be. Tell him where it hurts and he'll immediately massage the area with his hands. If massages weren't helping, then he'll warm up a heating pad for you and would find the best painkillers to make it go away.

The first time you were on your period, he bought way to many products for you so you were stocked up. Eventually in the future he knows the exact brand and everything you could possibly need.

When you wake up, he already has a meal prepared for you. Sometimes it'll be made from a private chef or he made it on his own. He'll gladly carry you to the kitchen so he can feed it to you or if you want, you can eat in bed.

Would give you random and frequent kisses. He knows that during this time you can go through a lot of emotions so he'll make sure to give you kisses to remind you that he loves and cares about you.

[lyrefromthesea]

You’re absolutely one of my favourite writers 💙 Please could I request hashira x reader, where the reader looks after the hashira’s family/ those they care for when they are on a long mission 💙💙

Male pillars x reader - family matters

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

who would've expected nearly the entirety of the Uzui family to fall sick? it luckily didn't hit him, but Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma all fell ill.

you would've done it without his pleading, but when he asked you so kindly to take care of his wives, you couldn't say no.

you were in a relationship with them too, it was only right to take care of your loved ones, right?

so when Tengen came home and saw you put wet towels on all their head with the outmost patience, he felt his heart swell with pride.

"i'm back, are you all feeling better?" he asked, looking down at the three sick women. they were cuddled up in their shared bed, not wanting to be alone.

he was glad when he watched them slowly nod and tell him how good you've taken care of them.

"thank you, beautiful.." he said to you, glad that there was someone he could trust. "let me help now."

Obanai:

when Obanai left for a mission and left Kaburamaru with you, he knew you would take care of his friend. however, he didn't expect finding you like this.

you have fallen asleep in the kitchen, your cheek squished against the counter. Kaburamaru had found his place around your neck, as if he wanted to keep you warm.

Iguro looked around, seeing Kaburamaru's food bowl. it was empty, but he knew the snake had eaten today. he could tell by the way Kaburamaru was sleeping with you, having filled his stomach.

furthermore, there was a plate full of food placed near you. he could see another empty plate in the sink, indicating that you've already eaten.

he had told you when he would come back from his mission, figuring that you've prepared the second plate for him.

he looked at you with a gentle gaze, not wanting to wake you up, but knowing you shouldn't sleep in the kitchen. with a quick and careful movement, he had picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

you had taken care of him and his snake, it was time to take care of you now.

Rengoku:

multiple bottles of liquor stood in front of his family's estate. they were all empty.

he knew those were the bottles his father used to buy, but the man would never place them here.

knowing that you had been staying in his house for the past few days, he figured it would have something to do with you.

"i'm home, dear!" he greeted, happy when he saw you run up to him. perhaps you had been spoiling him too much, but he was used to a kiss on the lips whenever he returned to you.

"first you take my sake away and now this? i'll puke!" Shinjuro scolded you, but you just smiled back at him.

Kyojuro was confused at first, quickly remembering the empty liquor bottles in front the family estate.

"don't pretend like you didn't like the past days! you even played board games with me and Senjuro." you countered, sticking your tongue out.

perhaps it was because you weren't a demon slayer, but Shinjuro could speak to you much more calmly than with others. or maybe it was because you reminded him of the peace of earlier days.

"you did? let's celebrate my return with another board game!" Kyojuro enthusiastically offered, earning a happy nod from you.

"you're going to play as well, right?" you ask Shinjuro, not surprised by him rolling his eyes, knowing he would join you two and Senjuro.

Sanemi:

"is he okay?" Sanemi asked, his fists clenching hard. he was desperate to know about his little brother's state.

when he heard that Genya had been hurt during his fight with a demon, he had wanted to see his brother right away, but he couldn't look him in the eyes anymore.

he knew that Genya hated him for what he had done, he had no right to worry over him now.

naturally, his eyes lit up when he saw you take over the role of a nurse, watching over Genya properly.

"he's doing better." you answered, seeing him quiet down and nod. he felt relief settle in his heart, coming closer to hug you.

his head rested on your shoulder, his arms hanging by his side. his heart was trapped in a mix of guilt and relief.

"you know, he told me that he missed you. you should see him.." you told him, knowing the story the two brothers shared was a sad one.

"no.." he simply said, but you could hear the sorrow in his voice. he probably wanted his brother back as much as Genya wanted him.

"thank you for looking after him.."

Giyuu:

he had trouble revealing his feelings to other people, but when he heard Tanjiro being hurt once again, you noticed the look on his face.

when you told him that you'd temporarily look after the young demon slayer, you saw the man relax slightly. he trusted you and he knew you'd do your best.

he wanted to do his best for you as well, deciding it would only be fair to visit you and Tanjiro now and then.

"Tomioka-san!" Tanjiro beamed, nearly making his way out of the bed, but you held him back, letting him remember that he needed to rest as much as possible.

"Tanjirou, are you feeling better..?" he asked, stepping into the room Tanjirou got assigned. he glanced up at you, seeing a soft smile form on your face.

he made his way towards you while he listened to the boy talk.

"i'm feeling so much better already! [name]-san took great care of me!" Tanjirou said, enthusiastically fiddling with his hands. Giyuu moved to your side, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"thank you for taking care of him." Giyuu whispered against your ear, turning your head to face him. "i have another mission now, wish me luck, love."

you nodded, knowing that you would pray for his return every day, you just didn't know Tanjirou would speak up again. "Tomioka-san! Tomioka-san!"

naturally, Giyuu hurried out of the room.

Gyomei:

"namu, cat cute.." he mumbled, pressing the small animal against his body in a squeezing hug.

you chuckled quietly, seeing the cat meow and wiggle in an attempt to get out.

you had found it a few days ago, the cat couldn't walk due to it's injured paw. when Gyomei came back that day, he was fine with you keeping the cat until it was healthy.

truthfully, he was more than fine with the addition to his home, especially when he found the cat sitting on one of his shirts a few days later.

he took it as a sign that the cat liked him, first feeding it and then trapping it in his arms.

"was this really a good idea? i feel like the cat is getting more attention than me." you teased, not expecting his strong arm to wrap around you as well, now trapping you in the same hold as the cat.

"you're cute too, don't worry."

[ksharkthemommy]

MDNI 🔞

I'm no writer but if someone wanted to give life to my ghost cod prompt feel free to do so I just request to be tagged so I can read it anywho onto the prompt

Ok imagine you're transferred to the 141 and ghost being ghost he immediately dislikes you and no matter how hard you try you'll never get his approval but after a particularly rough training session you end up sleeping together and you think "oh he likes me" except he treats you the same if not worse then before so you decide to stop trying with him then you miss your period and yup you're pregnant but you think if you told ghost he'd tell you to get rid of it or tell you to figure it out yourself because he won't be helping so you decide not to tell him you go to price and request a transfer to a new position or to be medically discharged and just disappear dont even say goodbye to ghost because why would he care right? Then after a few months you're settled into your apartment you get a knock on the door and when you look you see a large blonde man with a clipboard outside assuming it's maintenance to fix your ac or something (because ghost is so mean he'd never taken off his skull mask around you not even to kiss you) so you open the door and he immediately smiles seeing your bump and before you can even greet him hes pushing you back into the apartment closing the door and says "did you really think you could run away and I just wouldn't find out" and you immediately recognize his voice and a wave of fear rushes over you except he's so so sweet and gentle especially as he grabs you and presses his lips to yours holding you in his big strong arms only pulling away to greet your belly "can you believe mama thought she could keep you secret from me? Don't worry little one" he says while caressing your stomach while you stand there utterly confused at his complete shift in behavior "daddys not going anywhere" that's when you try to move away "ghost I'm sorry I thought you wouldn't want her since you hated me so much" he looks you in your eyes moving to hold you again "Simon" "what" "m'names Simon" hes holding you so lovingly its completely foreign "an I could never hate you"

And then they get married and live happily ever after or however yall want it to end lol

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 vice admiral

synopsis: after receiving some terrible news by news coo, you're left completely devastated. the crew does their best to console you, to no avail... and zoro realizes that, for once, his actions won't speak louder than his words... and makes a promise he's willing to die to keep.

cw: fluff with a decent dash of angst, parental death if that's triggering for you, reader calls her dad papa, comfort, zoro is once again down bad for reader, their relationship is super cute, zoro hates romance books.

a/n: listened to a lot of sad music for this

"They clashed, blades sparking and bodies twirling in an epic dance of death," you read aloud, completely enraptured by the book. "Their love was strong, but the hatred that kept them apart was stronger... It seemed that violence would once again be the driving force of their separation... as well as their rejuvenation."

Zoro gagged, keeping up the cadence of his push-ups as he rolled his eyes, glancing at you on his back with a raised brow.

Seriously...?

"You told me this book was about swordsmanship..." he grunted out, turning his gaze back to the grassy deck. "For the past three chapters... they haven't shut up about their rival families... or their... love for each other."

You let out a small snicker at his annoyed tone, a cheeky grin stretching across your lips as you turned the page.

"Well, if I told you about the romance part, you wouldn't have let me read it," you stated, simply.

"Gee, I wonder why..." he scoffed, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey!"

You flicked him in the back of the head, donning a small pout as he sighed, grumbling to himself something along the lines of:

"Always with the pout... she knows I hate the damn pout..."

It was Calisthenics Day, and with such beautiful weather, Zoro had decided to take his training outside, which meant dragging you out of your room to join him.

Even though he always deflected when asked about it, everyone knew that incorporating you into his workouts was one of his many guilty pleasures.

Wearing you like backpack during his pull-ups...

Having you take a nap on his barbell as he bench-pressed...

Plopping you down on his back for push-ups as you read...

He loved it.

He loved being in your presence because, to him, it felt oddly intimate—having you so close as he worked hard to get stronger, honing his body with the goal of protecting you in mind.

Not to mention it fluffed up his ego, being able to lift up and toss around his woman with such ease.

He was only a man... and couldn't help the renewed confidence he gained after every workout.

"Well, I didn't completely lie. The book's got sword-fights in it," you defended, flipping back through the last few chapters.

"Yeah, one every fifty pages," he scoffed once again. "And they're not even good. Who the hell dances in the middle of a fight?"

Your brows flattened, incredulously.

'Jeez...'

"Zo', it's figurative language. They're not actually dancing."

"Figurative... what?"

"Figurative language. Writers use it to make descriptions more interesting."

"Why don't they just say what they mean and be done with it?"

"'Cause that's boring."

"It would make this crap less confusing. Too many blinding smiles and sparkling eyes. Just say the girl looks nice and move on."

You sighed, not at all surprised by his response.

'He's so backwards...'

Zoro was a man who found it hard to say I love you, yet had no problem throwing himself in front of a bullet for you.

Really.

Most girls got bouquets and chocolates from their lovers after their one month anniversary, but you got to patch him up after he was hit in the chest by a fucking cannonball, all because you were in its line of fire.

A rather heart-warming yet terrifying problem to have.

The memory brought a small smile to your face, your lips letting out tiny chuckle as you recalled the scene.

"Gods, Zoro, why the hell did you do that?!" you sniffled, a few tears rolling down your cheeks as he coughed up another round of blood. "I could've dodged!"

He chuckled, painfully, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"With your reaction time?" he weakly teased, raising a brow as he sat up, "I don't think so."

Clutching his side, he let out a wince, pulling away his hand to see his blood was soaking through the bandages you'd applied.

"This is serious! Stop moving or you're gonna tear it open again!" you scolded, glassy eyed and wobbly lipped as you pressed your hand against his chest, forcing him to lay back down. "Gods, you're so stupid... why did you do that?"

After working tirelessly for a whole hour, Chopper was able to stabilize him, the cannonball having nearly tore off the whole of his side, and the organs along with it.

The doctor said it was a miracle, and medically improbable, that the man was still alive.

Zoro paused a moment, breathing slightly shallow as his eyes bore intensely into yours.

He knew exactly why...

"'Cause it was you..."

"Guys! News Coo's here!" Nami called, exiting her office and snapping you out of your thoughts.

Instantly, your mind pushed away the doom and gloom, making room for the wide grin that broke out on your face.

"Yes!" you cheered, jumping off Zoro's back, the man cracking a small smile at your excitement.

'Must be her dad...'

"Ooo, I wanna see!" Luffy exclaimed, swinging over from the figurehead. "I hope my bounty went up!"

"Me, too!" Chopper agreed, bursting from the med bay.

"Wait for me~!" Brook sang, jumping down from the balcony of the crow's nest.

"I call dibs on the funny papers!" Usopp perked up from his spot on the higher deck, tinkering with a new gadget of his.

"Let's see what's new in the world today," Robin mused with a smile, crossing her arms as she walked over to join the rest.

"It's been so long! I wonder how my father's doing!" you squealed, brimming with joy. "I bet he's captured a ton of other pirates!"

"Wait, (y/n), isn't your dad a marine?" Chopper asked, tugging at your arm.

"Yup!" you nodded, proudly. "One of the best there is! Back when he was in his prime, he was one of the strongest in the Navy! He even fought Gold Roger!"

"GOLD ROGER?!" Chopper and Brook exclaimed, shocked.

With a grin, Luffy threw a stretchy arm over your shoulder, literally pulling himself into the conversation.

"Yuh-huh! He and my grandpa are good friends!" your captain confirmed. "They go way back!"

Like Garp, your father was less than pleased to find out that you'd run away from home to become a pirate, much less a pirate with his best friend's grandson.

But, after some time, he learned to accept your decision, and even went as far as saying so in person, reuniting with you on Dressrosa and assuring that he still loved you with all his heart—you had feared he hated you for your decision.

He promised you both would meet again someday, and probably have to fight, given your luck.

So you promised to get even stronger, that way you'd be able to kick his ass back to the Red Line.

Let's just say your head got a good bonking for that one...

"Here, (y/n)," Nami smiled, tossing you the rolled up newspaper. "Take first look."

Giddily, you caught it, giving her a quick nod of thanks before flipping through the pages, searching for your father's name.

Until you found it.

"I found him!" you grinned, skimming through the article. "It is with a heavy heart that the Navy mourns the loss of one of its finest. Vice Admiral (d/n)..."

Your voice trailed off at the end, nearly dying completely as the words rang in the air, sounding foreign, despite it being you that said them.

Zoro froze mid-push up, eyes wide.

'Oh, no...'

Nami quietly gasped, hands rising to cover her mouth in shock, the others sharing similar expressions.

"After failing to return from a routine patrol of the sea surrounding Dunga, the vice admiral was reported missing. Naturally, the Navy sent out a search party, and discovered his ship floating aimlessly a few miles away from the island, battered beyond repair," you continued, frantically searching for some sort of catch. "According to Vice Admiral Momonga's report, upon boarding, the party found his body, along with the bodies of his entire squadron, on deck, each of them dead by varying causes."

No...

It wasn't true...

It couldn't be...

'Papa...'

You chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself, but you couldn't keep yourself from reading, still hoping for a twist.

"Of course, given the ship's close proximity to Pirate Island, it is safe to assume that the Blackbeard Pirates were the perpetrators of this deed. But, nonetheless, we are still left to grieve over this monumental loss..."

Shaking, your legs finally gave out, dropping you to your knees and your hands tightly gripped the newspaper, crumpling the pages.

"Oh, (y/n)..." Nami dropped to join you, a sorry expression on her face as she rested a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

You stayed stiff as a board, still in a state of shock.

Your father loved you with every bone in his body.

He was the man that taught you how to fight after finding out you were being picked on.

The man that kissed away your boo-boos after your daily adventures in the woods.

The man that held you during a thunderstorm after finding you hiding under his covers.

The man that paraded you around the house whenever you were sad, just to see you smile.

And despite the fact you ran away from home, despite the fact you joined the side he'd been fighting for over half his life... that reality never changed.

You were still the same, old (n/n) to him, and he was still your papa.

The papa... that you would never see again.

Your throat let out a wail of sorrow as you crumpled into Nami, clutching the paper tightly in your hands.

Everyone froze, hearts breaking at your sadness, expressions falling at the sight.

Your shoulders rocked with sobs, tears rolling down your hot cheeks like rivulets, your brows cinched in a look nothing short of agony.

You couldn't breathe, your chest heaving with effort as it attempted to retain the air you pushed out with your bawling.

"It can't—! I won't—!" you sputtered, coughing and gasping in an attempt to form the words. "He promised me! H-He promised me I'd see him again!"

"Don't start slackin' on me, kiddo. The next time we meet, it won't be as friendly," your dad smiled, ruffling your hair. "You may be tough now, but you better be a hell of a lot tougher if you wanna stand a chance."

"Psh! The next time we meet I'll be a hell of a lot stronger than you," you scoffed, proudly. "And then I'll kick your ass all the way back to the Red Line!"

"Like hell you will!" he exclaimed, hitting you upside the head with a haki-coated fist.

"OW! Papa, that hurt!" you loudly winced, rubbing the spot

"I love ya, (n/n)!"

"Love you, too, you old jerk!"

A new wave of tears erupted, your sobs becoming even more uncontrollable.

Your mind was completely gone with grief, only one word sticking out among the chaos.

"PAPA!"

Setting himself down on one of the mats in the crow's nest, Zoro's chest tightened, the sound of your wails on a permanent loop within his head.

After hours of consoling, Nami and Robin had finally calmed you to sleep, your body utterly exhausted from all the crying.

Sanji had made a banquet of your favorite foods for dinner, but you didn't eat a single bite.

Brook tried to serenade you with happy songs, but they all seemed to go in one ear and out the other.

Even Luffy tried to make you laugh, but it only made you even sadder, reminded of the times your father tried to cheer you up.

Safe to say, the entire crew was worried sick.

But, in a last ditch attempt to lift your spirits, Usopp and Franky banded together to build an altar in the crow's nest, using one of your father's old newspaper clippings as a photo.

It was beautifully ornate, yet simple, clearly demonstrating the skill and care it took to make it.

They hoped to surprise you with it when you woke up.

But before that... Zoro had to do something.

Using a match, he lit the incense that sat in front of your father's image—the picture of him standing at attention, arms crossed over his chest and expression pulled taut.

He looked strong, like a hero in a comic book, and twice as mean.

Though, if your stories were anything to go off of, he was apparently nothing but a big, old teddy bear.

Clapping his hands together, Zoro shut his eyes, paying his respects.

Without this man, he would've never met you.

Never seen your smile...

Never heard your laughter...

Never held your hand in his...

You were among the most important people in his life, and you wouldn't be the strong, kind, and compassionate woman he knew without your father.

That alone made him deserving of thanks.

But that wasn't the only thing the swordsman was there for...

Opening his eyes, Zoro's hand moved to grab the handle of his Wado Ichimonji, pulling the blade out of its sheath and holding it upright.

"Vice Admiral (d/n)... my name is Roronoa Zoro, and I am the man who will be the World's Greatest Swordsman," he started, deadly serious, looking straight into the eyes of your father's picture. "You don't know me, and I've never had the privilege of meeting you in person. But if there's one thing we have in common... it's (y/n)."

He tensed slightly, as if bracing himself for some harsh attack, letting out a smooth, deep stream of breath to calm his nerves.

"I love her... a lot."

He paused a little awkwardly, but cleared his throat to cover it up, pressing forward.

"Okay... maybe more than a lot," he corrected, glancing down at himself. "But it's because of that I put my life on the line for her every day... and it's because of that I'm worried about her safety."

His gaze sharpened, grip tightening on his sword.

'Bastards...'

"The newspaper revealed (y/n) as your daughter," he stated, jaw set tight. "She told me you tried to hide that, in case any of the pirates you put away managed to escape and seek revenge... but now that the secret's out... and you're dead... it's open season on her head."

He felt anger claw at the back of his throat, threatening to spring loose.

The Navy was fucking useless...

In their lousy attempt to honor the vice admiral's memory, they had inadvertently outed you to the world, completely destroying the years upon years of secrecy your father had worked so hard to protect.

Did they forget about his notoriety?

Forget about the thousands of pirates he'd jailed?

Forget about the countless enemies he'd made?

Forget about the hundreds of dangerous Impel Down escapees?

In your state of mourning, you were incredibly vulnerable, and if a blood-thirsty, revenge-seeking pirate came around wanting to settle a score, he wouldn't give two shits about how you were feeling.

Intentional or not, the Navy had thrown you into the proverbial lion's den.

But it would be a cold day in hell before Zoro let anything happen.

"While she's strong as hell on her own, with you gone, someone's gotta step up to support... be a figure or a name attached to her... strong enough to ward off any unwanted attention..."

He tensed, glancing back up at the picture.

"Which is why I'm here."

Taking another deep breath, he turned his gaze to his sword, now more prepared than ever.

"Vice Admiral (d/n)... I am in love with your daughter. And I solemnly swear from this moment forward... that I will never let her know pain."

His brows furrowed, expression cinched tight in earnest.

"That any weapon, plan, or plot made against her will fall at my blade... that any who come with the intent to harm her will be struck down without a second thought."

What Zoro saw that day scarred his heart for the rest of his life.

To see you so distraught... so crushed... broke a piece of him as well, and it was clear based off the others that gestures would not be able to break through to you.

So, for once, he would have to let his words speak louder than his actions.

"That I will stay by her side until she no longer needs me... that I will protect her with my every breath... that I will be a friend, a guard, a partner, or none at all at if she wants me to be..."

He paused, taking a second to make sure he was ready for the next part.

"But most importantly... that I will love and care for her just the same," he finished, before firmly tucking his sword back in its sheath. "She'll be protected... so don't worry."

A smirk rose to his lips, his eyes finding their way back to the man's picture.

"Soon enough, she'll have the World's Greatest Swordsman as her bodyguard."

[bountycancelled]

(un)secret admirer

luke castellan x child of aphrodite!reader

tip me on kofi, if you feel so inclined

requested: nope, I'm just currently obsessing over pjo (aren't we all?) and Charlie bushnell is my pookie so luke is also my pookie (what about all the people he murdered– what murdaaaa?!)

warnings: none I believe!

content: probably ooc luke becusse I haven't read the books, I don't know if demigods even nap, I don't remember the movies and he's barely in the show lol, some cuddling, lowercase intended because fuck grammar, also I know demi gods are dyslexic i just dont gaf because i thought this concept was cute, that's all!

a/n: SEND ME PJO REQS! please. also this is short and I'm sorry, I've been having horrid writers block.

"I don't get what the big deal is." Lukes voice could be heard from where he sat on your bed, as you gazed at the piece of paper in your hand, pacing back and forth in your room as you analysed its every minute detail to the best of your abilities. "you get letters from the other campers all the time."

"I already told you Luke. this handwriting isn't the same as any other letter I've gotten, so that means it's from someone who's never sent me a note before, and I need to know who it is."

you had recieved a myriad of letters ranging from 'I think you're pretty' to 'I would sacrifice my right arm just to get a hug from you' during your time here at camp. beyond being drop dead gorgeous, you were kind, always wearing a charming smile on your face, and having the ability to comfort people with your presence alone.

that (coupled with the facts that most kids here had some kind of parental baggage and your kindness definitely filled some kind of void) meant that you recieved many a words from not so secret admirers. you were sure that you knew the identities of the people who had given you sealed envelopes and tightly folded papers, but you were currently stumped.

you were startled out of your staring contest with the scribbled ink by the feeling of Lukes arms around your shoulders as he spoke. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, now can you please come back to bed? you know that I can't nap if you're not with me."

you sighed, letting him lead you back to your bed so that he could rest before you two inevitable of the two of you needing to help around the camp occured. you stared up at the ceiling as he slowly started to dose off beside you, before you gasped and shot up, effectively spooking him out of a peaceful moment.

"it's Percy!" you shushed Luke before he had the chance to complain about your sudden exclamation or the fact that you weren't letting him get a wink of midday sleep. "I mean, he's just met me, and one of my friends probably told him some stuff about me–"

"it's not Percy." Luke deadpanned, pushing you down by the shoulder from the upright postpone you were sat in to make you lay back down, and wrapping his arm around your waist. you were shocked into silence, because although Luke was an affectionate friend, he had never cuddled you while he was still awake. he would always wake up and discovering that he had wrapped around you in his sleeping state, apologising sheepishly while retracting his limbs.

after a few moments of stunned silence, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his statement. "and how do you know it's not him, huh?" he simply blew air from his nose, tightening his grip around your waist.

"because it was me, sweetheart."

now that shut you up fairly quickly, as you bit your lip to try to hinder the giddy smile that wanted to form on your features. you opened your mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by Luke placing a small kiss on the back of your neck.

"we'll talk when we wake up, alright?" but you weren't having any of that. "okay... but, before you go to bed. how long have you liked me? is this actually the first letter you've sent? why wouldn't you just tell me, you idiot. obviously I like you too. I know you said some stuff that you like about me in the letter, but I want you to tell me about everything you like about me, like every feature, every trait-"

Luke chuckled, sporting a big grin as you spoke. he would tell you all of that and more, he would do anything you asked of him, just as long as he got to hold you in his arms just like this.

[little-diable]

Afraid - Dean Winchester (smut)

Y'all asked for some jealous!posessive!Dean, so who am I to deny that wish? I came across a Dean edit paired with the song "Afraid" by The Neighbourhood, I guess that set the mood. Honestly, it's just pwp, but I ain't sorry. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean is tired of watching men trying to chat (y/n) up wherever the brothers take her. Dean is tired of faking his disinterest in the reader. Dean is tired of holding back.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, choking, oral (m), car sex, but some fluff and a love confession

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.2k words)

The sound of her boots meeting the ground was drowned out by the music echoing through the bar and the chatter filling the air. She was working on the adrenaline still thumping through her veins, riled up by the hunt Dean and her had just finished, wiping their weapons clean before they found their way to this very bar, ready for some distraction before they left this town in the morning. 

With a bright – yet awfully fake – smile glued to her lips, (y/n) made her way to the bartender, studying the man who was focused on the drinks he kept preparing. She was too concentrated on the game she was about to play with the guy, all too used to these moments, to notice the eyes of some other men on her frame, intently studying the woman’s body.

���Hi.” Her soft voice forced the bartender’s grey eyes to find hers, grinning at the smiling woman. He was handsome, with his bright, stormy eyes and the black hair he had gelled back, yet he was nowhere near as handsome as the green-eyed hunter she had been friends with for years by now. Dean fucking Winchester, the man who had an awfully confusing grasp on her body and soul, holding her heart in his hands, crushing it whenever he turned from her to find shelter in another woman’s bed. 

“Hi, darlin’. What can I get for you?” Before (y/n) could speak her and Dean’s order, an unfamiliar voice spoke up from behind her. 

“Give the lovely woman a few shots it’s on me.” Slowly (y/n) turned towards the man, eyes finding his greedy ones, trying to keep her disgust from finding its way to her features. A soft chuckle left her, hoping to distract the man for a few seconds, while she figured out a way out of this situation. 

“Mhm, thank you, that’s very sweet.” (Y/n) tried to turn away from him, though without any luck, stopped by the hand finding its way to her waist. 

“Not so fast, pretty. At least tell me your name.” A groan threatened to claw through (y/n), eyes fluttering in annoyance the man clearly mistook for shy flattery, making the smirk he wore on his thin lips grow. 

“It’s Mandy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my friend is waiting for me.” The man’s hand didn’t move, tightening its grip on her waist. With her lips forming a snarl, (y/n) was hellbent on fighting her way out of this, it wasn’t the first time a man tried to chat her up against her will, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, all too used to these uncomfortable situations. Though while her mind raced to find a snarky reply, she was gently though determinedly pulled away from the man.

“Hey, I was talking to her!” Her mind didn’t get the chance to concentrate on the man’s loud voice, distracted by the all-too-familiar scent forcing its way up her nose. For a second (y/n) allowed her eyes to flutter close, relaxing in Dean’s possessive grasp, concentrating on his scent, of the feeling of his muscles pressing against her frame, wordlessly telling her that he wouldn’t let her go. 

“Well, now she’s done talking to you. Let’s go, baby, I want to get out of here.” The man got no chance to protest, forced to watch Dean guide (y/n) through the crowd and out into the cold evening. She inhaled a few breaths, wrapping her arms around herself the second Dean let go of her, searching the distance between them.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but I would have managed just fine on my own, Dean.” He was walking a few steps ahead of her, coming to an abrupt stop the second she spoke the words. Dean turned towards her with dark eyes, features pulled into a hard frown, looking at (y/n) as if she was a supernatural being he was about to kill.

“I’m so fucking sick and tired of watching these men get their hands on you. Do you even know what seeing that does to me?” Dean’s voice carried an unfamiliar kind of anger, dripping with possessiveness, with jealousy. Her heart started racing in her chest, forcing heat to rise to her face, wondering where this was coming from. (Y/n) kept her gaze focused on Dean, eyebrows furrowed together as the seconds kept ticking by, trying to figure out what was going on inside his mind. “You know what, forget it.”

“Absolutely not. Talk to me, Dean, where is this coming from?” She reached for his hand before he could try to start walking once again, eyes drawn to hers like a moth drawn to any source of light. (Y/n) could tell that he was fighting an inner battle, tongue kissing his teeth, fingers forcing themselves closer to hers, interlacing them with his. 

“I,” a deep, almost defeated exhale left Dean, wondering how to put his thoughts into words. But the second the sound of somebody stepping out of the bar found its way to the two, it was as if he was lured out of his trance, letting go of (y/n). “I can’t do this, not here.”

Dean started walking towards Baby without looking back, growling something under his breath (y/n) couldn’t pick up. With determination guiding her, she jogged towards him, forcing him to a halt in front of Baby once again, murmuring his name. The last thing she heard before Dean turned towards her, reaching for (y/n) to press her against Baby, was an angry “Fuck it” leaving the tall man.

Her gasp was swallowed by his lips finding hers, kissing her hungrily as if they had been parted from one another for years, dreaming of their shared kisses, clinging to bits and pieces of their memories. Both moaned in unison, allowing their tongues to meet, turning the kiss even more heated. 

Slowly he parted from her, allowing the both of them to catch their breaths. His cold hands found their way to her warm cheeks, thumb stroking along her swollen lips as he pondered over his words. (Y/n) struggled to concentrate on anything but his touch, taken up by the feeling she had been desperate to feel for years, wondering if and how Dean would touch her. 

“You’re mine, you always have been, and you always will be. I won’t share you, just the thought of it makes me sick.” Dean’s growled words shot heat to her core, walls clenching around nothing. Wordlessly she pulled him down for another kiss, needing to feel him close once again, not fully trusting that this wasn’t just a trick of her imagination. Dean pressed her even further against Baby, keeping her trapped to make her feel every inch of his body, groaning the second his growing bulge came in contact with her desperate heat. “Do you feel what you do to me? I should fuck you right here, for them to see that you’re mine, mine only.”

A whimper left (y/n) at his words, drawing a dangerous chuckle from Dean as he let go of her, giving her just enough space to find her way to the passenger seat. Her eyes didn’t dare part from his features, trying to soak up every second. She couldn’t stop her grin from widening as her hands began to move, finding his thigh before Dean could catch up on what she was trying to do. He shot her a warning look, teeth nibbling on his lower lip, but her hands kept moving, finding their way to his crotch, feeling his hardening cock strain against the fabric of his washed-out jeans. 

“Sweetheart,” Dean choked on the word, struggling to keep his eyes focused on the road. (Y/n) didn’t speak up, she began to shift in her seat, leaning towards him to free his growing cock from the confines of his clothes. The groan that left Dean filled her with giddiness, spitting into her palms before she touched him for the first time, slowly stroking him. “Fuck, feels so good, been dreaming of this.”

Her soft chuckles forced a grin to widen on Dean’s lips, freezing the second he felt her warm breath clashing against his soft skin. Without another warning, she parted her lips, spitting onto his tip before she took him in her mouth. The groan that left Dean echoed through Baby, a sound that forced (y/n) to hum around him, making the sound vibrate on his skin. 

Even though Dean tried to concentrate on the dark road ahead, he felt his concentration slipping, parking Baby on the side of the road before (y/n) realised what he was doing. With one hand getting tangled in her hair, Dean roughly pulled her off his cock and back in for a teeth-clashing kiss. 

“Get in the backseat, I need to fuck you now.” The rough tone of Dean’s voice left (y/n) moaning, struggling to make her way to the backseat with her thoughts focused on the things Dean would do to her. He didn’t waste any time the second she found him hovering over her, hands pulling on her trousers and panties to expose her dripping cunt, groaning at the sight. 

His calloused fingers touched her expertly, circling her pulsing bundle with just enough pressure to push her into another dimension. Within seconds Dean had turned her into a blabbering mess, choking on her words as he pushed two fingers into her tightness. He didn’t hold back, kept her pinned to the leather seat with his free hand finding her throat. 

“You’re mine, your body belongs to me from now on.” For years she had imagined moments like this, wondering if she’d ever be fortunate enough to feel him this close, wondering how it must feel to have his hands on her. She could stay buried beneath him till the end of their time, allowing Dean to touch her as he pleased. 

“Dean,” she whispered his name, unable to use any more strength with his hand choking her just the way she liked. “Fuck me, please.”

Dean stared down at her for a few seconds, nodding his head as he pulled away, reaching for his wallet to pull out a condom. Within moments he placed himself on top of (y/n), aligning his tip with her cunt. With their eyes holding contact, he pushed into her, groaning at the feeling of her walls fluttering around him. 

Her lips parted at the feeling of Dean slowly pushing into her, allowing (y/n) to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. Dean stared down at her, eyes growing a few shades darker at the sight of her pleasure drunken features, finding excitement in her moans. Only as she nodded her head, teeth buried in her lower lip, did he start a faster rhythm, set on pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Dean, feels so good.” One of his hands found its way back to her throat, holding onto her as he fucked her faster, deeper, set on making her remember this very night till their last moment together. The Impala moved with his every thrust, keeping them protected from any dangers waiting out in the dark, allowing the two lovers to give in to their every emotion. 

“Been imagining this for years, but you feel even better than I thought, fuck, it’s like you were made for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) couldn’t reply, could only clench around him with her eyes squeezed shut and her fingernails leaving crescent shapes on his neck. She held onto him as if he was about to disappear, about to leave her behind – even though she very well knew that Dean would never let go of her, forever holding her close.

The second Dean tightened his grip on her throat, she found herself looking up at him, allowing heat to rise in her system as she picked up on the love swimming in his pupils. Dean tilted his head down to press a kiss to her lips, momentarily distracting her from the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot, leaving her body tingling.

“Touch yourself for me, baby.” The simple command rolled off Dean’s tongue, filling the Impala with another wave of heat to crawl up her body. With one arm slung around his neck, the other found its way down her frame, fingers rubbing her clit. Dean could swear that he was finally in heaven, that he had finally found his peace with her buried beneath him, finally his to love. 

(Y/n) could only whisper Dean’s name, eyes once again falling shut as she came. He fucked her through her high, staring down at her with his lips pulled into a smirk. It took Dean a few more moments before he gave in, letting a string of curses roll off his tongue. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” His words made tears well up in (y/n)’s eyes, pulling him down for one last kiss before she repeated the three loving words.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JUST SAY WHEN

Spencer Reid x writer!reader

Synopsis: You always choose Spencer Reid, but is it the right choice? Word Count: 3500+ WARNING: ANGST. not proofread!!! A/N: oh, here we go again... the angst plot in my head. this one feels disorganized. like my writing is all over. i've had this one in my drafts for over a month. but today i have the courage to hit post. honestly have mixed feelings about this. it's a new type of reader I'm dabbling in so i really am anxious about this. tell me what you think!

 “You should’ve seen him when he first saw me.”

THE PURCHASE.

 Vast lavender field soaked in chamomile tea. Dusty sunset through the window pane. Overwhelming aroma of old books. One figure tiptoes to the eighth shelf. Arm stretched to reach an old copy of The Scarlet Letter.

 Whenever Spencer is asked what he felt at that moment, he thinks, “Like I saw an angel freshly descended from heaven.”

 “Shit—” Gasps by the said angel.

 A book and body drop on the carpeted floor.

 Spencer runs to your aid. A failed attempt to prevent the seething pain you momentarily felt. First of many.

 “Are you okay?” He asks, kneeling next to you. Spencer reflexively offers his hand.

 You chuckle, taking his hand, and you feel him tense. “Don’t worry, I’ve had it worse.” You retract your limb to focus the pads of your hands on dusting yourself, squatting down to pick up the book.

 Spencer nods unknowingly despite the confusion and the knots in his eyebrows. He glances at the book, “That’s a great book.”

 Following his gaze, you hoist it up with a grin. “Very,” You emphasize. “I’ve read this, like, ten— thirteen times?” You brag excitedly, sparkling eyes as you meet his big brown sight.

 “Eighty-four.”

 You hum, raising your brows. 

 “I’ve read it eighty-four times.” Spencer shyly smiles, tight lips in a curved line. His hands grip the strap of his leather satchel. Socializing has always been his worst skill, let alone talking to someone as beautiful as you. He can’t help but feel his tongue twist itself into knots he can’t untie.

 You blink—slowly and adorably innocent. “What?” You chirp. It’s not every day you meet someone who’s read a book more times than you. Plus, the boy in front of you is quite the charmer, and you’re distracted by the glow of hazels in his eyes. 

 Spencer nibbles on his lips, and a faint reddish glow creeps all over the land of his skin. “I— uh, I have to go. Bye.” He shuffles as if his body can’t figure out where to direct itself and ends up malfunctioning in the process. In the end, he walks past you, rushing to another aisle.

 It takes you roughly twenty seconds to process that he’s no longer in front of you, twisting your body to his trail. “Eighty-four?!” You exclaim, baffled. 

 Your feet chase after him. “Wait!” You try to match his pace, almost jogging to catch up. “How is that even possible?” You get past him, completely blocking his way. “You just love this book so much that you read it on a loop, or what?” 

 “It really isn’t that big of a deal…” He mumbles, eyes glitching from one title to another, to towers of spines except you. A book with such a beautiful cover, his hands itch to reach and flip every page into memory.

 You place your hands on your hips, furrowing your brows. “Tell me how you read it eighty-four times. I won’t leave you alone until you do. And I swear I’m the most annoying person you’ll ever meet, so it might be in your best interest to get rid of me quickly before you go insane.” You shrug like it’s a normal thing to say to a stranger.

 Curiosity brims from your eyes, like a big doe's eyes begging a prey to bite her limb for the sake of adventure. And like a pirate tempted by a siren, Spencer takes the bait.

 “My mom loves the book, so I read it to her all the time.” He admits, a hand behind his neck. It’s the start of a long explanation. You don’t dare stop him. Your eyes are fully fixed on his moving lips. He can feel it. And he fights not to meet yours because he just might explode.

 Right then and there, you know the small contact from his hand completely stole your heart. And his words hold you into a willing prisoner because you saw him first from afar. Because you specifically chose the book in your hand despite having two copies of it to avoid first contact. Because you didn’t want him to know how long you’ve been staring. 

 Spencer gets abruptly cut off by a patron bumping into him. You fight every willpower in your chest to keep yourself from making a scene in a mall’s bookstore, shifting your attention to him.

 “Want to talk more about it over coffee?” 

 “I was mesmerized. The beauty of his mind was so intricate I couldn’t stop myself from falling even if I tried. I wanted him to own me. And it happened just as I wanted. I just didn’t know it’d be torture… Reaching his hand out was his fatal mistake. Taking his hand was my demise.”

THE FIRST CHIP.

 Disheveled. Broken. Sharp.

 Big brown eyes dull in the dead of the night. Spencer stands before you with indifference.

 He’s changed.

 But the grip on the neck of his satchel tells you your Spencer is still there behind the walls he put up. The first of many false hopes you convince yourself to believe.

 Five months. You’ve been dating Spencer Reid for only five months. And you’re in love with every fiber of his being. Only five months, and you know you’d love him for the longest run. 

 When people ask why you love him, you say, “Because I know he’ll never hurt me.”

 Then it happens.

 Tobias Hankel. 

 You loathe the name the moment you hear it. Accidentally burn yourself in the middle of making dinner when you receive a call from Penelope Garcia that Spencer’s been kidnapped by a serial killer. 

 In the moment, you panic. Almost causing a huge fire in your apartment building as you babble over the phone, asking Penelope where the hell your boyfriend is being held as if the word kidnapped meant a mark on a map.

 Then, you worry. You beg Penelope to let you in on the progress of his search. You pace in your living room. You read every true crime book on your shelf. You pray on each page that an answer will dawn on you and that you’ll have something of use to locate Spencer, as if you knew everything when, in reality, all you knew was that he’s held captive by some sick villain in your story. 

 You felt like every sidekick in a hero’s movie. Useless.

 When Penelope tells you that he’s on his way home, you’re never too tired or sleep-deprived to drive to his place. You waited hours outside his doorstep. You ignore the shivery breeze all over your skin, as you’d forgotten to change into something more weather-appropriate. You don’t worry about the unattended kitchen, the food you are excited to make. 

 You only think about one thing: be the first person Spencer sees when he comes home. 

 He arrives in the sixth hour, close to dawn. There's a gauze on his temple. His eyes are glued to the wooden floor.

 It’s a strength not to cry out from the sight. Worry courses throughout your body. But the relief that he’s made it home safe cancels the anxiety out of your head. All you want is to cradle him, wrap him in your arms to remind him of home, of safety, of being loved.

 You take Spencer into a tight hug. “I was so worried.” You whisper in his chest, breathing in his wake. He’s safe. Everything should be okay. “I’m glad you’re safe. I care about you so much.”

 Only for him to say, “You should go home. It’s late.”

 “I’m not gonna leave you by yourself.” You shake your head, pulling away to stare at his empty face. Your palm cups his cheek, and it’s cold. He doesn’t lean against it. He simply winces like your touch is dangerous.

 “I’m too tired to entertain a guest.”

 You.

 A guest.

 There’s a small sting inside your chest that you ignore don’t notice. Your heart feels similar to a teacup with a chip on its rims. Delicately painful to the touch. 

 You swallow the thick air in the middle of your throat, nodding as you bite the tears from the back of your eyes. “Alright, my love…” You softly enunciate, not wanting to sob at the sight of Spencer avoiding your image.

 The spark in him that you love so much is nowhere to be found. Only hatred and something you can’t figure out swim behind his irises. He doesn’t even reach for your hand. Doesn’t hum in delight like he always does when your skin caresses him.

 A prominent chip marks your being. As if you had been dropped from two floors down. 

 You shove the thought away. 

 You tell yourself that Spencer needs his space. Tell yourself that he needs time to process, to heal. You tell yourself it’s okay because Spencer’s had a long week. You tell yourself it’s not about you.

 You leave a kiss on his cheek, “Rest well. Call me if you need anything.” You walk down the stairs with a weight you don’t discern. 

 Spencer doesn’t say he will.

 And he didn’t.

 “It takes a while before I realize the chip he caused. And even then, I said, what is love if I never get hurt? What is love if there’s no struggle? Besides, there are moments when the chip didn’t hurt. Minimum effort filled the aching void. Simplest gestures blinded me. Sweetest words impaired my hearing. I wasn’t hypnotized or caught in a spell. It’s plain and simple. He had a hold on me. I chose not to break free.”

THE VOICES IN HIS HEAD.

 “Oh, here we go again.”

 You feel yourself physically shrink.

 Spencer rolls his eyes, pushing one hand into the depths of his right eye socket. Heavy sighs drool off his lips. The pounding in his head makes his vision blurry. And you’re convinced some type of voice tells him you’re no one important in his life. 

 You had asked him if he’d like to take a break from his files. After he’d said no, you carefully made a point that he hadn’t eaten anything the whole day. Then, you’re back to the now, where Spencer snaps at the mere mention of taking his fingers off the thin edges of the case. 

 A year into loving him. A year into being his solace—his words that now seem to be a lie—and you feel your entire body tense with every twitch and narrow of his eyes. 

 “Can’t you just leave me alone?” 

 Your chest tightens. A tug hitches your breath. A strong pressure sits over your lungs, deflating every air out without any chance of inflating back. 

 Since that night, Spencer changed. And you don't blame him. Completely understanding the stake of his trauma. Motivated to make his days better, to make him feel better. 

 The first month since that evening, Spencer didn’t text or call. He didn’t answer yours either. He isolated himself, and you’d heard from JJ that they even had a hard time talking to him. 

 So, you thought you weren't alone. That you weren't the problem. Because if everybody else can't reach him, then Spencer must want his solitude.

 You climb on your shelf. You patiently wait for him to want you again. You let it happen. Let him consume you despite the ache that gnaws in the back of your mind.

 And when he comes knocking on your door. You swing it so fast, eager to have him back in your arms. You lock the tingly feeling inside a vault. Because Spencer said he loves you that day.

 “I’m trying to do my job. It’s a difficult job, unlike yours, where you just scribble on paper or tap on your annoying keyboard and be done for the day.” 

 It cracks. Every fiber of your being cracks. The colorful memories are stricken with connected lines, slowly turning into a depressing gray. 

 You crack internally. A glass hit with force enough to break but not enough to shatter apart. Your skin holds up every broken part like a puzzle piece. 

 He’s just mad. He doesn’t mean it. You chant inside your head. You don’t know who you’re lying to.

 Spencer said he loves your writing. Love every word lined by your weaving hand. Love the stories formed from mundane moments and late nights. Love the emotions that brim within spaces and punctuation marks. 

 And you wonder if you should've kept not believing it. If you should've stayed appreciative but never convinced.

 “There are people’s lives at stake. I’m saving people’s lives, not filling their free time by reading your made-up stories.” 

 A target made to be maimed. Spencer aims at the center with precision. And you’re stricken with every shot.

 Your feet step back on their own. A subconscious pull for safety. Heart beats in fear, in ache. 

 “I’m sorry.”

 It dies in your throat. Your body shakes in so much pain you don't mind the way your heart and lungs shrink. Afraid that tears may fall, willing them to stay in place—in the back of your eyes where Spencer won't find them. 

 His migraines worsen. You tell yourself. 

 He’s still in pain. You remind yourself.

 His job is more important. You convince yourself. 

 Excuses after excuses. You make it a habit. Make excuses for him to distract the piercing agony.

 “W-why don’t I give you some space? Refill your cup?” You offer a smile like it’s a job you must carry successfully.

 Spencer gulps, hands in his pockets. “That would be great. Thanks.” He replies, getting back on his seat as if he hadn’t just cut through you like a sharp ax splitting a small trunk in half.

 You flinch when he shuts the door as soon as you step out of the room. Each piece vibrates in place, waiting for the last hit.

 “Litany of reasons come after that. I woke up each day with yet another excuse. A shameful attempt to sell what was rotten. Until I took a bite of it myself, and I tasted the sickening truth.”

THE DESTROYED SAND CASTLE.

 It's deafening. 

 The sound of you shattering into a thousand pieces. Sharp edges cut through every fabric of what you thought was true, what you thought was real. 

 “I love her.”

 But you're not her.

 You’re not the great Dr. Maeve Donovan. The woman who kept his migraines at bay, if not anything, cured them. The smart, beautiful, successful woman who rang every local pay phone in his vicinity. The woman that occupied his waking days. Days he went through next to you.

 Dr. Maeve Donovan. Spencer’s great love.

 And he’s never seen her in person until her last breath. But her voice is enough to steal him away from you. Enough for the color in Spencer’s skin to light back up after years of your failed attempts. Enough for Spencer to fall in love with her. Enough to stay in love with her despite her being gone in the wind. Despite you sleeping next to him every single night.

 She was enough. The idea of her is enough.

 “I love her.”

 Love. Present tense. Spencer loves her. 

 You don’t remember the last time he’d ever said those words to you. Don’t remember the genuine emotions that radiate along those words. Don’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt loved by him.

 “Hey…” 

 You walk past Penelope. You don't realize it until she catches your arm, distracted by the fatal explosion inside your chest. You can see the way your world crumbles like a sand castle kicked by the meanest bully.

 “Sweetie, what’s wrong? Did you not find Reid? Is he not in Hotch’s office?” Her eyes soften at the sight of your tears flowing like a steady river. “He’s safe, I promise. Just a little graze, you’ll see.” She tries to console you, rubbing the side of your arm.

 Just a little graze.

 Spencer has been carving little grazes on you for years, and the final blow causes your entire life to shatter in fine dust—close to nonexistence. 

 “Do you mind telling Spencer that there was an emergency, so I had to go?” Your voice breaks with each syllable, fighting the sobs from spilling out. It’s numbingly painful. Every part of you is sore and aching. 

 Penelope furrows her brows, “Sure, but is everything okay? What emergency?” She pries, no bad intentions, simply a sign of her kindness.

 You take a rough gulp. “I…” You look into her eyes, begging for her not to ask further. 

 She nods, giving you a soft squeeze on your arm and a warm smile. That's when you knew that she knew exactly the source of your nonstop tears. Maybe no longer than you did because you can see the anger in her eyes. At least she's on your side. And it's enough for you. “Call me if you need anything, love,” Penelope says, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m always here for you. I’m always ready to be on your side.” She adds against your neck.

 And you're heading towards the elevator without a second thought.

 You hear your name as the doors close, lifting your head to find Spencer coming out of the bullpen. Penelope is true to her words, blocking him from reaching where you stand. His voice makes your insides churn. The sound of your name rolling off his tongue is sickening.

 Your body collapses on the floor. The sobs finally echo within the tight space. The tears endlessly flow in raging torrents between floors. You wrap your arms around your torso, holding yourself together.

 But it's way too late.

 Every piece of you has already shattered into messy pieces. Spread out in broken parts, unfit even if you tried to glue yourself back together. 

 Spencer has destroyed the castle you've built. The castle you made just for him. 

 You wonder if it's all for show. If Spencer chose to keep you just to avoid his boredom when Maeve’s unreachable. If he only tolerated you to fill her physical absence.

 But you should’ve known that it was a matter of time. His kisses were merely ghosts. His touch was stinging cold. His words were hallow. 

 The signs were clear in plain sight.

 Spencer stopped loving you a long time ago.

 "It's my fault." You say out loud, as if thinking it isn't painful enough.

 You made a choice. Each day, you choose to make up new reasons why Spencer is distant. You convince yourself that you aren't hurt by his cold glances. You tell yourself that it’s not torture if you love him.

 The elevator dings to the last floor.

 “Remnants of myself dried up inside that box.”

 Tongue runs over the softness of your lips as the final lines of your book approach with the same heart-wrenching ache. For the audience, at least.

 You flip the page, lifting your gaze. You scan the mass of teary eyes and silent sobs.

 There, you find two familiar faces. Penelope sniffs next to Rossi, who’s smiling proudly. The sweet blonde became your secret ray of sunshine. And the Italian mentored your way to a New York Times bestseller.

 "In that tight space. In the center of those four moving walls. I wished so much that he'd only said when. When everything felt too much. When I was unwanted. When he stopped loving me. I would've understood. Because I always did."

 What you don’t expect is the third familiar figure. It stands in the farthest back. A shadow if you don’t know any better. You take a deep breath.

 The next words are etched in your brain. The first words you’ve ever written in the making of the book under your palm. The words that still ring in your ears.

 “I must say, it’s not that I never learned. I learned so much that within the cracks of my broken self, I filled them with empty promises. Promises I never kept. Promises I broke because I believed I’d be fixed in a couple of days. I believed that the space between pieces of me would mend if I made the choice to stay.”

 His hair is unkempt. His eyes are as brown as the healthiest earth. His build is leaner. His face is worn out by horrors you don't dare imagine.

 Flashes of his pleas, his tears, his knocks on your door. You remember them like they were just yesterday. The pain that left a prominent indentation on your heart.

 Tattoos of pain adorn his face. Has he been there the entire time? Do you really care if he was?

 You lock eyes with Spencer, pausing for a moment. You let the past seep in. You unlock the vault of your broken pieces. Let them sing in agony. Let him hear the melody of your suffering.

 And then it stops. They vanish through the air of peace. The relief of moving on.

 You smile at him. The one that started everything.

 “It’s important to know that I always had a choice. And with that is the acceptance that each time I chose wrong.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

[bekolxeram]

The sheer number of times Eddie is mentioned when Buck comes out to Maddie has been pointed out time and time again. Some take it as a sign that Buck is subconsciously in love with Eddie, some see it as foreshadowing for these two to be romantically involved in the future, while others simply think it's an Easter egg left in by writers as a nod to shippers.

The way I see it, there is a reason why Eddie keeps being brought up in this scene, but it's not what you think.

If you've rewatched this scene as much as I have, you'd remember that Buck actually isn't coming out to Maddie on purpose in this scene. He originally goes there to talk and ask for her advice, because he feels bad about the hot chicks incident when Eddie walked in on him and Tommy at the restaurant.

In fact, he fully intends to keep the identity of his date hidden. He can't even risk Chimney getting wind of it, in case he or Eddie puts two and two together and figures the whole thing out.

Maddie is always there to talk things out with her brother, but she would never turn down a chance to gossip.

He completely dodges Maddie's question and quickly changes the subject. He needs to tell Maddie the full story of his disastrous date, but he can only refer to Tommy as his date, or "this person". The more he does this, the higher the risk of slipping up, Maddie would likely ask more questions about this mysterious person as well, so Buck frames the whole narrative around the only person he can safely refer to: Eddie (and Marisol, but she isn't important in this story).

Maddie picks up on Buck's secrecy, now she really wants to know who this person is and why Buck refuses to reveal their identity. Buck again immediately shuts it down, and brings the topic back to Eddie.

While I'm sure Buck feels bad for lying to his best friend, especially when there's no reason to expect Eddie reacting with anything less than acceptance, when Buck starts actually talking about his behavior and what upsets him the most, it isn't really about Eddie. He's ashamed of himself for lying right in front of Tommy. In fact, he's so upset over Tommy cutting the date short and leaving him on the curb that he accidentally uses a gendered pronoun.

Maddie "I am 9-1-1" Han makes a career out of being a good and thorough listener, so of course she notices the pronoun. From this point on, the subject of the conversation shifts from Eddie to Buck's newly discovered sexuality, and later, Tommy.

Buck knows he goes to Maddie because he feels bad, but he still hasn't fully processed the fact that he's into men too and what it means to him. He's still calling himself an ally, a supporter of queer people, but he's confused as to why it doesn't seem to apply when it comes to himself. Maddie correctly points out that he's no longer just an ally, and the recency of his discovery might have been the cause of his strange and panicked behavior during the date.

This is the prime example of acting turning the same line into different meanings. The first "wow" seems to me like Maddie is finally connecting the dots. She practically raised her brother, it's not unlikely that she has previously witnessed Buck having boy problems. I feel like it's a "wow, everything makes so much sense now" wow. It looks like Buck takes a little offence at it and asks Maddie to clarify what she means by "wow". Maddie tells him it's more like a "wow, this is a nice surprise" wow.

Oh, boy is completely clueless. Maddie is just trying her best to keep up with Buck's increasingly oblivious statements.

Buck suddenly brings up Tommy, probably because he hasn't been able to stop thinking about him since the kiss. Apparently, he's so attracted to Tommy both physically and as a person, it makes him realize his interest in men, something no other has achieved thus far. Maddie recognizes the name her brother has been harping on for the past few weeks.

Poor Maddie must be so confused. First her brother and husband-to-be keep talking about how cool this pilot who saved everyone is, then he becomes Eddie's friend and Buck gets all jealous about it. Most recently, Maddie is horrified by Buck's action on the basketball court, because he only has a history of hurting himself to get someone's attention, not the target of his attention seeking. And now Buck has gone on a date with Tommy? So Maddie decides, one step at a time, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Buck initially tells Maddie about lying to his best friend and how he feels like a fraud, so she tackles (no pun intended) this part first.

If you come into this scene with preconceived notions, the word "feelings" being in proximity to the name Eddie may seem like to you that Maddie is pointing to "Buck's misplaced romantic feelings towards Eddie". But if you put these lines into context, Buck simply isn't sure of how he feels about his bisexuality in general. In fact, the only thing he's certain of in this entire conversation is his attraction to Tommy. Maddie also isn't bringing up Eddie out of the blue because she thinks her brother is secretly in love with his best friend. Again, Buck originally does want advice about lying to Eddie, albeit partly using his name to avoid revealing his date's identity, so Maddie gives it to him now, no need to read too much in between the lines, especially after the "wow" exchange.

Now that the Eddie stuff is out of the way, Maddie can comfortably gossip about Buck's new hot pilot crush. And Buck looks absolutely smitten at the mere mention of Tommy.

Eddie is undoubtedly a very important person in Buck's life, and it must be killing Buck inside for lying about something so important to his best friend. Though in this scene, Buck seems to be mostly using Eddie's name to circumvent the necessity of mentioning Tommy's name and to deflect any probing question about his identity. Once he accidently lets it slip that he was on a date with a guy, he pretty much drops the whole Eddie act entirely.

[otakubimbo]

Don't Lose Control

Miguel x F!Reader

Plot w/ porn.

My legally required sex pollen fic as a fanfic writer. @safixiovi requested Miguel so here we are.

You and Miguel are on a mission together and nothing is going right. Your tech is all messed up and now it seems Miguel has gotten sick from something. He felt as if he was losing control of himself.

OB Sticky: I wrote this with one hand in my pants so excuse any grammatical errors and definitely not proofread. Also writing smut make me so embarrassed so if you hate it, don't. <3 Reblogs and Likes welcome, requests are still open.

masterlist

Confusion was written all over your face as you looked at the data on your computer in the universe you and Miguel were in currently. You had been working on tech to detect fluctuations in the multi-verse that could detect where anomalies would appear before they did. It had been doing well for the last few weeks, you were able to detect the appearance of an anomaly in three separate universes. So, the confusion now came with the fact that the monitor was detecting two fluctuations in the universe you were currently in, but nothing was showing up. The two of y’all had separated, you went to check out one of the fluctuations and he went to the other. But nothing, nothing was there in the area that read the fluctuations.

You groan out in the abandoned building that you were in, frustrated at the lack of any appearances.

“It was working so well, what the hell?” You grumble to yourself, typing in code strings into your computer trying to see if you can recalibrate the device that it was connected to get a more accurate reading. As your frustrations grew, your watch started going off for an incoming call. You answer it in hopes that at least on his end there was at least a sighting on his end.

“I’m in a damn field and not a single sight of anything but clouds of pollen.” Miguel’s digital image huffs at you. You groan, rubbing your face in irritation.

“Let’s fucking call it then and find somewhere to stay tonight or whatever.” You say abruptly hanging up on him. He would be able to find you, you knew that, and you didn’t really have the energy to hear his complaints about your tech or whatever he had to say.

Meanwhile, with Miguel.

You really hung up on him, in his face when it was your idea to have the both of you out here testing out your tech. Jess was left in charge while the two of you were gone but still, you had insisted and yet there was nothing here and the two of y’all had been at this investigation all day.  He cursed in Spanish as he coughed from all the pollen he was inhaling. It was everywhere, irritating his throat, eyes, and skin. It wasn’t even that he was frustrated your tech was having what seemed to be issues, it was that you insisted on checking things out separately when he figured the whole reason you wanted him here was to do this mission together, with each other. He had grown accustomed to your presence, to your voice, to your smile. It was all while you were figuring out the mechanics of this new tech of yours. To a certain extent, he was always fond of you, he had found you brilliant, driven, and innovative, one of the few spiders he could tolerate. But things started to change when you came up with the idea for this tech, the glittering in your eyes as you made strides on it. Every new aspect you brought to him, you picked his brain late into the night. The time the two of you spent together increased over the months and he realized that he really enjoyed your company. You brought a certain type of peace to him that he never thought he would get before, he actually started going to sleep more at night because he would make you go to bed which you wouldn’t unless he agreed to also. The two of you had got as close as someone could to Miguel.

Miguel cursed again as he felt his body heating up as he went to the directions you sent him for where the two of you would be spending the night he figured. He assumed he just needed to get whatever was in that field off of him and he would be fine after that. When he found you in the crowded lobby of the hotel, you looked irritated but so damn sexy.

Wait.

Where was his mind going right then? He would have to be blind not to realize that you were attractive. Of course, he acknowledged that about you, almost every spider has mentioned it since the day you joined. But the way you looked right now, drive a man to sin. Your curls were down for once, edges slightly sweated out, your skin held a red tone which made your brown skin glow slightly. It was obvious that you were frustrated with the way your nose crinkled making your nose hoop push up slightly on your face. The way your arms were crossed against your chest pushed your breasts up in a way that had them almost spilling out the top of your tank top, the sight going straight to his dick. His breathing started getting heavy as he gazed at you and then finally caught your eye, having you quickly walk towards him realizing how much of a sway to your hips there is when you walk had him feeling parched.  

“O’Hara, we have a problem” You start as you let out an exasperated breath looking up at him. This is when you notice his appearance, he is red, EXTREMELY RED, looking as if he just took on several baddies right before getting there. 

“Is everything okay?” concern is written all over your face as you gaze up at him, lips slightly parted and all Miguel could think about is what they would look like wrapped around his-----. His thoughts were cut off by you calling his name.

“Yeah, I’m fine, that stupid pollen is just all over me. Irritating” He brushes your concerns off saying a few curses in Spanish.

“Okay, well, they only had one room available because apparently there’s some sort of festival going on and I got the last room that was available at like any hotel.” You say as you shift your bag on your shoulder, which takes Miguel's focus back to your chest. The silver chain around your neck sits right above your cleavage. All he could think about was how high would it bounce if you were to ride his---

Again his thoughts were cut off by your voice.

“Alright, let's just get you to the room so you can get whatever is on you off and I can do some work.” You say as you grab his arm, dragging him to the elevators so you can get to your shared room. You didn’t have any clue what was wrong with Miguel, he never usually seemed so zoned out but you assumed whatever the field he was in was affecting him and his focus. His powers were different than other spiders, so you could figure that it was probably a chemical from their plants that was messing with him. You would have to send it off for some tests to see what it could be.

Once in the room, you tell Miguel to go ahead and use the shower to get himself together after you grab a sample of what was on him to send to Lyla.

“Hey Ly, can you analyze this? It got on Mig and he’s been dazed and out of it ever since we got to the hotel.” You say as you speak to the AI. She gives you a knowing look when you mention a hotel and she hears the sound of a shower in the background. “Don’t start, there’s literally no other rooms anywhere and I don’t want to leave tonight just in case the readings were actually accurate, and two anomalies show up. It wouldn’t be logical to leave just set.”

Lyla knew the way you felt for Miguel, she was there while yall were spending all of that time together. The looks that you took at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, the way you would sigh contently while working in the lab with him, and the way you spoke to him when it was just the two of you. Anyone with eyes could see how attractive that man was but it wasn’t just that which is what made you fall for him. Regardless of the way he could come off, he was kind and caring. He may not show it in the ways that other people did but he had such a big heart and was truly thoughtful of other people. The man would take everything on his shoulders just to make things easier for everyone. You admired him, you adored him, and he made you feel safe and understood and cared for. You really liked him, it didn’t help that he was a walking Adonis. His looks were just the cherry on top for you. Everyone seemed to know your affinity for him, except him. It didn’t help that you were always making excuses for his behavior, Jess would make jokes at your expense all the time about it.

“But the two of you sharing a room it seems?” Lyla giggles coming to sit on your shoulder.

“Cause there wasn’t anything else available” You whisper hiss at her, and she just giggles again “Please just analyze the sample I sent”

“Anything for Miguels other half.” She jokes as she fades away, and you just groan trying to focus back on your readings and tech.

Miguel did not want you that way. You knew that, he would never want you that way. He was a serious man with a hard past that never allowed for the option of romance. The multiverse and stopping anomalies were more than enough to occupy Miguel's mind and heart. You sigh, knowing that your affection will never be returned by him busying yourself with your work while he finishes his shower.

While in the shower, Miguel had already cum two times, and nothing was helping. His mind only filled with you and how you would feel under him, on top of him, how your lips would feel, the noises you would possibly make. It didn’t help that he knew you were just in the next room, he could almost feel you. He needed you badly and he didn’t know why it was so badly. For once, it was as if he lost control of himself. The way he needed to feel you, to hear you, to taste you, to be inside you. Mierda. He came again with just the thought of you in the other room, just the thought of you. It wasn’t enough but it would have to be, he knew you would worry if he took too long in there.

As he exits the bathroom, you notice you hunched over your laptop on the bed, fidgeting with your tech with such a concentration on what you were doing. The image made his dick throb. Fuck. His stuttering as he entered the room, caught your attention from your work. You only glance at him as you continue tinkering.

“Are you feeling any better?” You ask, still typing away.

“Yeah” He lies as he attempts to keep his voice from sounding strained.

“Good. I still sent some samples to Lyla to analyze.” You start before pausing for a second, “Since we don’t know what’s going on I think we should try to both sleep with some comfort tonight just in case we get an alert or something. We have been at this all day, so we need some rest.”

It took Miguel a second for him to realize what you meant by what you said. You meant that the two of you would have to share the bed. Together. Sleep next to each other. Together. Together, in the same bed. Together. He could barely contain himself in the shower, how in the hell was he supposed to contain himself sleeping next to you?

“Can you take a look at this while I take a shower? I can’t find anything that is wrong but I really don’t understand what’s going on.” You say only slightly looking up at him and then back down as you finish typing what you were working on shifting to get up while still trying to work.  

“Yeah sure” He attempts not to look at you as you put your stuff down, trying to finish your coding, distracting yourself from your previous statements, attempting not to think about you and Miguel sharing a bed. You don’t even look at him as you make your way into the bathroom.

The only thing Miguel could think about was you undressing in the bathroom, what you would look like as you caressed your body with a soapy washcloth. Mierda. How was he supposed to sleep next to you tonight?? He felt like he was losing control. You seemed to not be affected by the thought of sharing a bed with him, something about that was making him feel more feral. The image of you sleeping peacefully as he looms over you, starting with pressing his lips to your unexpected jawline, making his way down your body with his mouth. He could imagine your breath hitching as you started to wake up at his actions. Would you whimper as he made his way to your clothed cunt? Would you grip his hair as he teases you by licking you through your panties? Would you beg for him?

Mierda.

He was painfully hard again. What the fuck was he going to do? What the fuck was going on? He needed to calm himself down, he had no clue why he was acting like this. He was mumbling curses in Spanish, not even realizing that you had gotten out of the shower.

“Mig” You call out to him softly; he looks like he is in distress. His head snapped to your voice. Mierda, that damn nickname wasn’t helping him in this situation and neither did the way you looked. It wasn’t like you were wearing anything special or particularly sexy, it was a plain oversized shirt and he could see the peak of shorts underneath. That cute expression of concern that you wore, your gaze gentle on him. You called his name again.

“Are you okay Miguel? Do you think we should go back to headquarters? We can always just send some other spiders out to keep on alert.” You suggest moving towards him. At your movements, it was as if he snapped out of whatever spell was on him.

“No, no it’s fine.” He rebuttals, “The tech is too new to trust with anyone else. I’ll be fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You nod at him, still worried about him but going to bed was probably the best option for him right now. The two of you get into bed, laying down on opposite sides, and backs towards each other.

Miquel can’t sleep. Every other minute, he's trying to gently ( as gentle as someone his size can be) toss and turn in his discomfort. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, especially with the way he could feel your warmth even from the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, his excessive tossing didn’t allow you to sleep either. You were worried about him but you know his stubbornness wouldn’t free him enough to tell you the issue. But at this rate, neither one of you would be able to sleep tonight at this so you conceited and turned over with a sigh to face him. He was lying on his back not realizing that you had woken up, it looked as if he was sweating. Did he have a fever? Was he really sick? You lean up on your elbow, extending your hand out to touch his forehead.

“Miguel you don’t look well.” You speak as your hand reaches out towards him, right before your hand lands he grabs your wrist and looks at you with wild eyes.

“Don’t” He says through gritted teeth.

“Mig, please, what is wrong?” You ask so innocently, while all his thoughts about you aren’t even close to innocent. With you so close now, with that look in your eye, Miguel was losing all of his sanity. Fuck it. Swiftly, with your wrist still in his hand he straddles himself on top of you. Your eyes immediately go wide as you feel your body move, looking up at him, you don’t fight him though.

“I----” He starts, panting above you.

“What Miguel?” You asked breathily, fuck you looked so beautiful beneath him. Your eyes find him and they're red. He looks almost feral.

“ I don’t know how much longer I can control myself” His voice is strained as his grip on your wrist gets a little harder. The way he was looking at you, wasn’t something you expected. The look of unbridled lust in his eyes, you could feel it coming off his body.

Your voice barely above a whisper calls out his name.

“Stop, please. You don’t understand how badly I need to ruin you.” He groans as his head falls to the side of your head, his face burying into your neck breathing in deeply with a growl. Your breath hitches in your throat, unable to think clearly of what is going on in this moment. The stoic and controlled man that you had grown to know just told you he wanted to ruin you and the biggest problem was that you were okay with it. There was a newfound ache between your legs while he was speaking to you and now the ache was growing with the way he was breathing into your neck. Fuck it. You roll your hips into his, feeling his restrained bulge twitch with the impact.

“Then ruin me, Miguel.”

His head shoots up at your words, it was taking all of his self-control at that moment to not rip the clothes you were wearing off. He had to be sure he understood you correctly, he had to be sure you knew how serious he was about ruining you, destroying you, making you his own.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, hermosa.” He strains out, unconsciously pushing his hips into you, you let out a small moan at the sensation and Miguel thought he almost came just from that sound alone.

“I do, I want you. I want you to ruin me, Miguel.” You say, a lustful look in your eyes as he’s still panting above you. He was trying to hold on to his last ounce of self-restraint until you said one word. “Please”

That was all it took before he sank his fangs into your neck. You gasped at the sudden pain until you felt him licking the wound he just created making you moan his name at the sensation. His hands are all over your body as he is kissing and sucking on your neck, moving your legs so that he is in between them to grind himself into you.

“Fuck Miguel” You moan as your hips meet with his, “Kiss me”

He immediately abides by your request, mouth meeting yours in an aggressive lustful kiss. Miguel forces his tongue into your mouth as he presses his body into yours. His claws digging into your plush thighs which had you moaning into his mouth as he explored yours. The both of you breathing heavily as he moves again from your mouth to your jaw to the other side of your neck marking you the same as he did on the other side. After he is pleased with his marks he leans up, gazing down at your chest heaving, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. Fuck, he doesn’t even bother lifting your shirt off you as he rips it in the front to expose you to him. The view was better than he imagined, of course, he had seen you in your spidey suit which didn’t leave much to the imagination but this view, actually seeing you bare under him was just too much. He came then and there, not even caring because the next time he came he hoped it would be inside of you, your eyes widened at the guttural moans he made as he came. Without even a moment of shame or embarrassment, his mouth latches onto one of your breaths as he palms the other.

“Wait wait, Miguel did you come?” You attempt to get out during his onslaught on your tits.

“Yes, and I’m going to come again, inside you.” He says as he makes his way down your body to your clothed cunt. He had no shame in his words, as he quickly made shreds of your shorts and underwear, he could live out his fantasies of teasing you at another time. He needed to taste you right now. Before you could even respond to his words, or to the fact that he has ripped all your clothes off Miguel's tongue is lapping at your folds. You can’t help but squirm underneath him, as he’s eating you like a man starved. Fuck was he obsessed with the way you tasted; he knew he was going to have to have this all the time now.  He made out with your clit as your hands dug into his scalp gripping his hair. It was all so overwhelming; you couldn’t even grind yourself against his face as his strong hands held your hips down. You were reaching your peak faster than ever before, you were moaning his name like a chant as you got closer and closer to getting over the edge.

The sound of his name being moaned off your lips was driving him even crazier, his hips pushing into the bed as he starts sucking directly on your clit. He moves one of the hands that was holding your hips down to shove two of his thick long fingers into your clenching waiting hole. It was as if he already knew your body because his fingers automatically found the spot that made your vision blurred. Your body responded on its own as you came, and came hard, squirting all over his face. The squirting caught him off guard, as he pulled his face out of your cunt with a surprised expression.  Oh fuck, he needed to see you do that again, and by the way your walls squeezed his fingers as you did, he knew he needed to see you do it again but on his dick. He freezes himself from the restraint of his own clothing as he comes back to hover over you. You looked so damn beautiful, your lips were puffy from his kiss and he could see the bite marks that he left on you, pupils blown and breath coming back down from your orgasm.  He didn’t give you much time to recover as he grabbed your legs throwing them over his shoulder and pounding into you.

You scream his name as he furiously slams his hips into yours. His hands are under your ass, grip tight as he lifts you slightly to go deeper into you, too deep. The tip of his dick ramming into your cervix with every thrust. You had never been one that could just come from penetration, but the way Miguel was pounding into right now seemed was going to change that. He can feel the way your clamp down on his as the tightness returns back to your stomach. Fuck you were going to come again, you were so sensitive, so sensitive for him. Your nails digging cresent shaped marks into his arms as you come again this time on his dick.

“I’m going to come inside you” He tells you through his thrusts and the aggressive manner in which he said it made you clamp down on him even harder. He spills into you, so much that it starts leaking out as he continues to pound into you. You had assumed once he came again he would stop but he doesn’t, you can still feel how hard he is inside of you as he pumps his cum deeper into you. As the final bursts of his come stop, he pulls out swiftly getting off the bed, grabbing your ankles to drag you to the edge. Flipping your body over and pulling up you on your knees, he shoves your face into the bed as he inserts himself into you again. His pace doesn’t slow down as he ruts into you. It felt like he was even deeper than before. One of his hands moves to your shoulder to pull you back as he slams into you, his other hand moves to your clit to rub hard circles on it stimulating you further.

“Fuck Mig--- im--- im cuming” You scream as you cum again hard, doing exactly what he wanted and squirting. He could feel it all over his hand, making him cum again inside of you. You look back at him as you finish feeling him cum in you, thinking that he must be done. The sight you see behind you makes you know that you weren’t even close to finished. Miguel had his hand that was covered in your squirt up to his face inhaling deeply before he stuck his tongue out licking his fingers. He gets even harder inside you; it doesn’t look like there would be any sleep tonight, he really was going to ruin you.

The next morning you wake up, bruised and sore. Your head was on Miguel's chest and he was snoring peacefully under you. With a groan, you get up as you feel a notification on your gizmo, you had almost completely forgotten that you had requested Lyla to analyze the substance. As you look at the results you feel incredibly embarrassed, mortified. The substance that was on Miguel was some sort of aphrodisiac, so that’s why he was acting that way towards you. As you were getting further into your head about last night events Miguel woke up.

“Your thinking woke me up.” He grumbles as he sits up looking over your shoulder to see what you were looking at.  He reads the results of the substance that was on him and now he understands what you were possibly thinking. You thought he only wanted you because of the aphrodisiac, but with the way he marked you he would have thought you would know that he wanted YOU and you ALONE.

“Hey” He says as he touches your shoulder, you jump back from his touch.

“Hey, yeah so it’s fine you know. We can just forget about everything last night, I know you couldn’t control yourself. Its fine” You ramble on trying to not embarrass yourself further, he gentle grabs your chin as you speak a stark contrast from his behavior last night and some of this morning.  He doesn’t say anything but look into your eyes giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“It wasn’t just that, I only wanted it to be with you. I only thought about you. Alright?” He says in the most gentle way you have ever seen him speak. A small smile forms on your lips from the reassurance.

“Alright.” You say and he gives you another kiss, a little more aggressive this time. How was this man not tired anymore?! You saw the half-life on the substance he should be done. “Miguel, the effects should have worn off by now.”

“They have,” He says against your mouth. “This is YOUR effect” moving your hand to allow you to feel for yourself how you affect him. Before things could go any further, you get a notification from your new tech and your gizmo that there were two anomalies in this dimension, around the areas that you detected yesterday.

“See, I knew it!” You exclaim as you activate your suit almost forgetting what you were just doing with Miguel. His dick twitches under your hard and you remember what’s going on. “Oh right, uhm this first, and then we can go back to headquarters and I can take care of that for you,” You say with a sultry smile which makes his dick twitch again.

You and Miguel catch both of the anomalies in record time, him being extra careful to avoid the pollen this time. The two of you continue where you left off after you get back to headquarters, immediately both taking your leave which received knowing glances from both Lyla and Jess.

[meansevika]

okay so very long thinkpiece about meljay and jayce' treatment of mel / the writers treatment of mel and how i think that all things considered she hasnt really won as much as we think she did

the thing about this that makes me so mad or rather sad (both, actually) is that we learn in season 1 how mel was brought up, that she didn't get to be soft and kind, that her surroundings were hard and rough just like her mother was, that love isn't a thing she knows like that especially not in relation to vulnerability. now if you think about media in general there is a pattern we know. the black woman is always the strong woman, the independent woman, the woman who doesnt get to be vulnerable bc of the first two points. so here comes this man she's trying to use not just for her own endeavors but for the good of piltover, clearly having a different mindset than her mother, and he cracks her open just like that. he's vulnerable with her and he lets her be vulnerable with him and it allows this woman this kind of vulnerability that she was never allowed to feel. she feels and she loves and there is someone who holds her and looks out for her when things go bad. he is his first thought after the bombing and hes so loving and endearing unlike her mother who is concerned, of course, but straight back to business too. and oh what a lovely thing that was to watch as a black woman who to this day still doesn't get to see this as often as we really should

so mel gets to experience something she hasnt before and you can tell it means something to her because when she gets back in act 3 the first reaction to him is an excited, hopeful one.

this is the man she cares deeply for and it is also the man who shes comforted before many times. something she needs in those very confusing times too. something she might be looking out for. something she might hope to get herself. some comforting after what shes been through for months. someone to share what is going on with her and how confusing it is to find out all those lies and secrets about herself.

until she notices how changed he is, how different he looks, so instantly she is worried. of course! who wouldnt be! she very likely didnt even know he was missing since its the first time we see her back in the city so she must've assumed he has been here and well for the whole time being (does she even know how long its been?) but it isnt fine as we know. she puts herself second! immediately! (and rewatching that scene now it actually makes me mad how she does that. and how anyone can question any of her feelings for him when shes immediately all jayce. or how in general people think shes only interested in her own goals) she asks this man who has shown her to be vulnerable around him and it BEING FINE, what happened, shes opening herself up to him, again, over and over, and he not only tells her it doesnt matter (what happened to him) but TURNS HIS BACK ON HER. he is literally shutting her off. he is saying with his body she does not get to do that. and for someone who has grown up like this, with a mother cutting off any kind of displays of weakness, this must be a familiar feeling, something that goes off like a bell

but she still tries! she still tries! she sees something is wrong but she tries to get comfort anyway, because this is jayce, right, this is the man she cares for deeply, the man who has opened this door for her and the door she's let herself through, the man who has always had compassion for her. of course she tries again. why wouldn't she? so she starts that something has happened to her but he doesn't even let her tell him what happened (actually it makes me so mad seeing this again and how crazy hostile he is towards her, its like im looking at the mel hating part of arcanetwt and him repeating beat for beat what theyve been saying for years) he doesnt give her room to speak, just takes it for himself, prioritizing himself and his own feelings. and, yes, figuring out the bombing thing and wanting to talk about it is valid and i think in general this could've been a great angsty way to deal with this topic IF they would've had the opportunity to talk this out properly but what happens instead is that the man that makes mel feel safe starts INTERROGATING her like she is a criminal that should be held for trial FOR SAVING HIM something she doesnt even undestand herself. and suddenly she is in a whole different position and i think by now she knows that this kind of compassion and understanding and room for vulnerability isn't part of their conversation anymore

she loses her composure and that of course isnt a first because she has started to be less put together around him, allowing her more room to "sway" but this kind of destruction is a different one because she feels at trial, feels cornered, feels like she has to explain herself but - and thats what is important - isnt heard. and i think that is something she knows very well, something shes grown up with, trying to explain herself and not being heard.

all of that happens while he is, mind you, still holding onto that hammer. something she surely notices too. the man who's usually quick to let down his defences around her, who isnt councilor talis or mister talis but just jayce around her, is holding onto that hammer like shes a threat. so he tells her he thinks shes lying and she asks him why he would think she'd do that, obviously, because her understanding of their relationship and their trust is a different one than his or at least this jayce that has come back from the arcane, because clearly this kind of understanding comes from somewhere and it comes from the times they've spent together alone throughout season 1 and a little in the beginning of season 2.

he throws at her that shes been using him, something that surprises her, because clearly she doesnt know what has happened, but she tries to explain anyway, because she doesnt know what has happened at least not in full (as you can tell by her reaction to viktor appearing, sensing the hostile mood between both, but also the way she reacts when viktor mentions the noxians intentions), and you can see that these thoughts of his are a result of months in the arcane alone with them and imagining conversations over conversations (although for me its still hard to understand how he grew that hostile towards her this quickly as if she were responsible for everything that happened but those are thoughts for a different post). he crashes out during that conversation, his face is warped with hatred and that is. all. for. her. to. see. and then BOOM goes the hammer off. mid conversation. a conversation that should feel safe with a man she should feel safe with but none of that is there. there is no space for her. (and yes i know hes aiming at viktors puppet but that isnt somethng mel is aware in that moment)

it all leads up to a fight and eventually they walk together and he apologizes, although very distantly and without much explanation, and despite it all, despite having good reasons to shut off and not share what she's feeling, she does. she talks to him about what is on her mind and they have a short, bittersweet exchange but it's just nowhere to what they've established in the first season. as a shipper of course that is super frustrating, but as a mel fan it's just sad to see that the person she felt safe enough to seek comfort in is just so closed off. but not only that, it's obvious they're parting ways and it's very obvious this is coming from his side and i think that is also why she so wilingly accepts it. she doesn't fight much back throughout their whole fight earlier either, she tries to explain herself, but doesnt demand that room for herself even though in this relationship she should be able to take just as much room for herself and her feelings as he does, but she doesn't. she just lets it happen and i understand it bc you have this man you trust and probably love and his first reaction to you is hostile when hostile has never been a response to her. he made a complete u-turn and of course that's off putting, maybe even scary, of course it shuts her down, makes someone who's so good with words and fighting just try to cause as little damage as possible because that is how she's grown up, isn't it?

and that is why i am sad about this. she learned that love doesnt have to look like her mothers and that being vulnerable isnt a weakness and its his doing but here she is met by this kind of hostility she only knows from noxus and it hurts even more that it COMES FROM HIM and over something as SAVING HIS LIFE when its clearly was an act out of love and not investment bc if i'd would've been just that than she would've saved viktor as well? but it wasnt about that. it was her subconscious making a decision and it was something her mother would describe as an act of weakness (theres a reason she gets renni to attack him bc she sees how fond mel of him is maybe even because shes been fond of a man herself once and she knows what itll do) and i think the worst part about it is that she doesnt ever get to truly articulate this or anything else and now that jayce is gone (dead? in a stone? who knows?) she won't get to ever probably. she won't get to say what she thinks and explain herself truly and she won't have anyone to confide in, to be comforted by or comfort. elora is dead, kino wasn't real and the real one is actually dead too, jayce is well whatever he is, and her mother died in her arms. yes, mel is a mage and that is fucking awesome and i was so happy to see her go off and get so many spotlights in battle, but shes also so fucking tragic actually. because here she is with a fuck ton of weight on her shoulders, the noxian army looking up to her, the whole name, not knowing who her father is or what any of her powers mean, the whole black rose thing, everything unresolved between her and jayce, the death of the people she loves, and shes all alone with it. shes all alone with it and she gets no one. man im just fucking sad that this woman got a glimpse of what it could be like to be loved and have someone to "come home to" just for her to have literally no one left like why do you hate black women so much why cant they get a fucking good ending and why cant they be fucking loved even when things get hard

also im lowkey mad that jayce got to find comfort in her lap so many times and not once did she get that in return, not even a squeeze of her shoulder, but dont let me get started on that....

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: YOU'RE NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: I was watching One Piece & came up with this. Please enjoy! -Jazz

Warnings: Reader is mentioned as having thick thighs and ass w/ brown labia

**********

LUFFY 

This man is downright confused. 

He doesn't even realize that you did this on purpose to get him riled up. Luffy was never the one to successfully be seduced though. You could stand naked in front of him and tell him to fuck you, and he’d still wouldn’t get it. When the man gets horny, it’s at the most random of times, like when you’re sunbathing with Name or reading a book. 

You figured you’d at least give it a shot though. It starts when you two are lounging in your bed in the girls’ cabins across the ship, chomping on some watermelon and honeydew as an afternoon snack. With your feet in his lap, you go to pluck the last piece of watermelon out of the bowl between you, but his whine of protest stops you. “What, Luffy?” you sigh. 

Luffy stares at you with big, pitiful eyes, begging you not to eat it. You do your best to keep your eyes on his instead of his toned upper torso and X-shaped scar that peaks beneath the flaps of his red vest. “Pleeeease, Y/N?” he whines. “It’s so good! I didn’t even eat that much!” 

You scoff, wondering if he’s serious. “Luffy, boy, you almost ate the entire bowl!” you argue. “I had to slap you on the head to stop you from eating everything!” You go to pop the watermelon into your mouth, but Luffy’s arm extending and slithering across the bed toward you stops you. 

“No, Luffy!” you protest, but you’re cut off with laughter as he begins tickling your side. The captain laughs at your torture, tickling you senselessly until you drop the watermelon on the ground.

By now, he isn’t paying attention to it though. He jumps on top of you, his fingers moving furiously across your sides and stomach much to your dismay. “L-Luffy, stop!” you gasp. “I-I can’t…b-breathe!” 

“Huh?” he teasingly asks. “Sorry, Y/N, but I can’t hear you over the sound of your laughter!” His hands then move down to tickle your legs, but he doesn’t count on accidentally flipping your sundress up to reveal your bare pussy to him. 

His fingers pause as he stares in confusion down below your stomach. You begin to grow hot with embarrassment, realizing what has happened, but also hopeful that this lighthearted moment shifts. For a minute, Luffy is completely silent and you can see the gears turning in that head. “Uh…Y/N?” he innocently questions. “Why aren't you wearing any underwear?” 

The room suddenly grows hot and heavy as you lay there on your back with your boyfriend staring down at your pussy. “Um,” you hum, “w-well–“ 

“Did you lose ‘em in the laundry room?” he interjects. “Did they end up in the sea? Why didn't you tell me? I would’ve gotten 'em for you!” 

“No, Luffy–“ 

“Or did you take ‘em off ‘cause it’s so hot today? Doesn’t that feel kinda weird? Or does it make you feel cool? Maybe I should try that too ‘cause sometimes I get–“ 

“Luffy!” you exclaim, stopping him short. “I didn’t take them off ‘cause of any of that.” He stares blankly at you, waiting for you to continue to explain the method to your madness. You clear your throat, feeling more embarrassed because of his cluelessness. “I did it to seduce you,” you softly reply.

Again, he just blinks at you. “You know,” you sigh, knowing damn well he doesn’t. “You have easy access to me now for…you know…play with me.” 

Then, finally, a lightbulb flickers in Luffy’s eyes. “Oh!” he giggles, realizing what you mean. “You mean for sex? I can fuck you without worrying about your panties now?” He practically yells this shit, by the way, which means anyone on the ship definitely heard. 

You facepalm yourself, groaning. “This was a bad idea,” you lament. Luffy is suddenly moving to hike your thighs over his shoulders, his entire demeanor changed. You squeak in surprise as he looks up at you from between your legs, a mischievous yet sexy look in his eyes. “You want me to fuck you, Y/N?” he hums. “All you had to do was tell your captain so.” 

When he finally eats your pussy and fucks you into the mattress for nearly an hour until you have four orgasms, leaving your body twitching and your pussy filled to the brim with his cum, you realize that maybe you should go without undies more often. 

ZORO 

To say he isn’t pleased isn’t enough to describe what Zoro is feeling. 

He knew something was off when he saw your asscheeks jumping a little too much when you walked around the ship today. He noticed immediately when you went into the kitchen to help Sanji with breakfast to which he eyed the blonde down for staring at you in your pretty little sundress. 

But then you bent over the counter a little too far, luckily without Sanji watching, to reach for a glass for your iced coffee. There, he saw it: a sliver of those bare cheeks that he dreams about smacking and lays on as pillows just because they’re so plump and pillowy soft. As the hem of your dress rose over your thighs, his eyes widened at your ass and the crevice of your thighs where your bare pussy lied in wait for him. 

When you finally got your glass, you peeked over your shoulder at him, your eyes meeting his. And then you laughed. You laughed. It was small, light, and sexy, but just as wicked. Zoro gripped his fork so tight that he nearly snapped it. ‘Oh, this little brat,’ he thought. You were gonna get it later. 

So when he finds you reading a book and lounging in the sun moments later while the crew is doing their own thing, he wastes no time discussing these important matters with you. He stands in front of your view of the sun, becoming a big, hunky eclipse. You stare up at him from behind your sunglasses. “Yes?” you ask innocently as if you’re not wearing panties under your dress right now. 

“You wanna tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” he asks, his voice barely above a growl. You stare up at him, confused. “Uh...reading and sunbathing?” you suggest as an answer. You offer your book to him, showing him. 

You don’t expect him to pluck the book from your hand and toss it to the side. “Not that,” he impatiently replies. “I mean the fact that you’re goin’ commando today.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Zo,” you lightly laugh. But he sees the playfulness in your smile. You’re trying to tease him to get what you want. 

Lucky for you, he’s on your type of time today and is more than happy to give it to you. 

That’s when you find yourself in his room, bent over his bed and his thick cock stuffed deep in your wet pussy that he is quickly turning into a gushy mess with how fast and hard he is fucking you. With every slap of his balls against your clit, his hands grip your hips and your voice rings out in moans against his bedroom walls. “Z-Zoro!” you whine, your face in his pillow. “Slow down or I’m gonna cum too quick!” 

He feels you squirming about, but holds you firmly by your hips, even giving you a sharp spank on your jiggly ass. “Nah, baby,” he hoarsely says. “Stop runnin’ from me. You begged for this shit, and now you’re gonna take it, you little brat.” 

He leans over to press a chaste kiss to your ear, making you pitifully whine into his pillow as your ass bounces off of his cock. “I’m curious though,” he whispers. What made you suddenly decide to flash your pussy for all of our crew members today, huh?” His hand moves to roughly grip your ass, toying with the soft flesh. “I know you know I noticed,” he growls. “What, you want Sanji and Brooke to get an eyeful of what’s mine, huh?” 

With no answer, he spanks you again, drawing a whine out of you. “Huh?” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of his bedroom walls. 

“No!” you sob, gripping the sheets beneath you. “No, Zorro, I promise I’m yours! I-I just wanted to tease you! I’m sorry!” The rest of your words turn into whines and sobs of pleasure as he continues to fuck you sore, plunging his cock deep into your pussy until you’re screaming for release. 

Guess you got what you wanted, right? 

SANJI 

Sanji is BIG HORNY. Don't even try to play with him like that. 

It is just a simple morning that turns into something else entirely when you wake at the crack of dawn to find your bed empty. The spot where your boyfriend once was laying is still warm, meaning he hasn’t been away all that long. 

You get up and put on an halter aquamarine-blue dress that is shows off the curve of your back and stops at the tops of your thighs, giving just a little peek of the bottom of your ass. It’s one of Sanji’s favorites. Anytime you wear it, he either has a major nosebleed or gives you a blush-worthy compliment and then has a major nosebleed. It also gives him the perfect access to your panties…only this time, you leave them in your drawer. 

With a smirk playing on your lips, you walk out of the girls’ cabin to the ship’s kitchen where you find your man and the crew’s chef cooking up some breakfast. He hums a tune as a cigarette dangles from his lips as his hands multitask between cracking an egg with one hand and flipping over some bacon in a pan with the other. Sanji has always been great with his hands. You should know––he’s used them on you many, many times. 

You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his toned body. “Good morning,” you softly say, ruining his concentration in the best possible way. He looks over his shoulder, smiling down at you. “Good morning, my love,” he coos, taking his cig out to press a kiss to your forehead. “Did I wake you, baby?” 

You lean against the counter, admiring his biceps, veiny hands, and his toned body beneath his apron and wrinkled shirt that he hastily tossed on earlier. You want him. Now. “You know I can’t sleep without you near me,” you reply, your voice airy and soft. 

Sanji doesn’t quite catch on to your tone, but presses a hand to his heart, touched at your sweetness. "Aren't you just the sweetest thing ever?” he tuts. “Well, I’ll make sure to make up for leaving your bed with an amazing breakfast from yours truly! Here, pass me the blueberries so I can make this pancake batter.” 

You turn around, looking at the carton of blueberries. “These here?” you ask. 

“Yeah, right–“ Sanji’s sentence takes an abrupt pause when you suddenly lean over the counter next to him to get the blueberries. As you do, your dress rides up, giving him an eyeful of your luscious, bare ass. You smirk at his silence, realizing that your plan to seduce him worked…as usual. It doesn’t take much to make Sanji incredibly horny. You could simply smile at him and he’s ready to eat your pussy for days. 

You turn around to face him, your dress dropping back down against your hips. “Here you go, honey,” you coo, passing him the carton. He takes it from you, eyes wide and mouth parted, his cigarette falling to the floor at his feet. You giggle, teasingly toying with the hem of your dress. “What’s the matter, honey?” you tease. “You like this?” 

Sanji’s eyes follow your hands and the hem of your dress that continues to lift up, showing him a little of your skin each time. “Uh-huh,” he dumbly answers. 

“You know, we’ve got some time until the others wake up,” you purr. “And you’ve got easier access now.” You lift your dress up the rest of the way, revealing your naked pussy to him. “Wanna take advantage?” you ask, a sexy glint in your eye. 

You swear that Sanji has never had a more violent nosebleed. That shit gushes everywhere, but luckily not on the food or on you. It drips all over his clothes, his pretty apron, and the floor below, making you squeak in shock as you jump onto a chair to avoid getting wet. When poor Luffy and Usopp enter the kitchen seconds later, they slip and slide all over the blood, knocking into each other and falling out on the floor. 

It’s hilariously embarrassing on Sanji’s part, especially when you help him mop up the floor. But you think it’s flattering that your boyfriend finds you so attractive. 

He shows you just how much hours later when the crew is eating breakfast in the other room while he has you bent over the counter and his cock stroking the walls of your pussy, nice and slow. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he groans, your soft moans filling the kitchen. “I don’t deserve you. You know that, right?” 

The only answer you can give him is clenching around his thick, curved cock and creaming all over it minutes later. 

USOPP 

Usopp is truly a special case.

You think you just about killed him when he realizes you’re completely naked under your skirt. 

You’re just fooling around in his tinkering room under the ship’s floors, dancing to his playlist that he has set specifically for his tinkering and inventing process. You twirl around in your flowery mini skirt and white crop top while your man crouches over a table, focusing on working a gear into some new contraption he’s working on. 

You hear him sigh from his post, exhaustedly so. “Y/N?” he asks. You twirl towards him, your eyes trailing along his back muscles flexing under his white white beater and brown skin tanned even more from the sun. “Hm?" you hum, still swaying to the music. 

“If you’re not gonna help me, what are you doing down here?” he asks, but not unkindly. Kind of in that way where you’re fed up with your lover’s antics, but you secretly love them. “Just to dance to my music?” 

“It’s not my fault you’ve got excellent music taste,” you giggle, moving towards him. You wrap his arms around him from the back, pressing a kiss to his broad shoulder. “C’mon, dance with me.” He groans in protest, his hands covering yours. “You know I don’t dance, sweetheart, especially when I’m in my zone.” 

You cluck your tongue indifferently. “You’ve been in your zone for hours now!” you argue. “Just to one song.” You begin to sway, forcing him to sway with you. You lay your hands flat against the hard planes of his chest, feeling his heart beating against your fingertips.

“Pwease?” you plea, making your voice soft and high-pitched. Usopp once again groans, but sways with you anyway, moving away from the table to turn his entire attention on you. You release him, allowing him to turn around and face you, a smile playing on his pink lips that you just love to kiss. 

You take his hands into yours and begin moving your feet anywhere the beat takes you, leading him towards you and back again. He begins to laugh along with you, moving his feet in his boots and his legs in those baggy, yellow overalls that you’re itching to get off. There’s just something about him being down here, so completely in his element with his skin glinting in sweat and motor oil streaks on his face. 

He surprises you by suddenly taking your hand and twirling you around, making your skirt billow around you. You giggle as you spin and come to a halt with your back to his front. You lean your head back into his chest, humming appreciatively at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands gliding down your sides to your hips and accidentally slipping under your skirt. “Oh, sorry!” he gasps. "Your skirt was still up and…” His sentence takes a pause, making you smile. 

“Everything okay, Usie?” you ask, using the pet name you gave him on him. You turn around to face him, finding him gaping down at your skirt. “Uh,” he breathes. “W-Wha…why…why aren’t you…underwear?” 

You nearly laugh at his stutters and gobsmacked expression. “You like it?” you giggle, toying with your skirt. “I figured it’d get you away from your tinkering for a minute.” 

You lift your skirt up, revealing your bare pussy and tan lines from the sun to him. His brown eyes nearly bug out of his skull at the erotic sight. The man is totally frozen, barely moving a muscle…except for the one down under which has begun to make its appearance, protruding from beneath his pants. 

“So you wanna take a break with me, Usie?” you purr, smirking up at him. You press a hand to his chest to feel him up, but as you do, Usopp teeters backwards and falls flat onto his back. “Usopp?!” you shriek, alarmed. You crouch down beside him immediately, checking for any damage. “Are you alright?” 

Usopp stares up at you, his eyes wide like he just saw the entire Grand Blue beneath your skirt. “Y-Yes,” he croaks out. “To the break, not if I’m alright.” You sigh in relief, shaking your head at your idiot boyfriend. 

But he makes up for it by fucking you silly against his tinkering table minutes later and making you cum all over his thick cock. 

SHANKS 

“You wanna get fucked?” 

That’s the question Shanks asks you when his hand slides a little too far down your backside and finds that your skin is completely smooth. Too smooth. Usually, he’d feel the rough edges of your lace panties or a thong if you’re feeling frisky. But tonight, there is nothing. 

He should’ve known something was up. When he was walking behind you tonight to go to the bar with the crew. Your ass was jumping way too much! Not that he minded because his crew and every other male in here knew better than to look at you in such a way, but he couldn’t pop a hard-on in front of his crew mates. It was quite embarrassing. 

And now you have the gall to act like you have no idea what he’s talking about. “What, boy?” you snort, shoving at his chest. “C’mon, we’re not even back at the ship or at a hotel.” 

You go to scoot over, but the booth you're sitting in only allows you to go so far. Shanks is sitting with you thigh to thigh, hip to hip, with one arm slung around the back of the booth. Something about being protective of you. Though you like it, him being so close is starting to make you hot combined with the alcohol traveling through your body. 

Like clockwork, Shanks follows you, scooting even closer to you and not allowing you any kind of personal space. You can see that he is tipsy, his cheeks and ears flushed pink and a hooded look in his eyes. “Shit, baby,” he chuckles, “all you had to do was say that. We can leave right now and go to a bed ’n breakfast right down the way.” His hand moves from your back to your knee, squeezing it. “You didn’t have to go commando tonight, though I appreciate the gesture.” 

His hand begins to scoot up to your thigh, squeezing the thick, juicy flesh there. You can feel your body temperature rising as his hand gets dangerously close to your pussy as he sneaks it underneath your skirt. “So what made you wanna lose the panties tonight, baby doll?” he whispers, his lips at your ear. He smells of whiskey and mint gum––a combo you have come to love. 

The sound of a bottle shattering and a roar of laughter makes you realize that you’re still in public. “S-Shanks,” you stutter, gulping. You go to move his hand, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. 

“Uh-uh, baby,” he tuts. “Can’t decide you don’t want it now. You’re the one who came off the ship without your undies.” Your breath hitches as he releases your hand and goes back to scoot his up your skirt until his fingers begin sneaking between your thick thighs. “Tell me, baby doll: what was your plan tonight? To make me so hard that I bend you over this table and fuck you in front of all of the nice folks at this bar?” 

His naughty question and raspy voice in your ear makes you pathetically whimper. You then feel his fingers begin to play with your pussy lips, making you bite your lip. His other hand moves to the back of your neck to tug lightly on your hair, drawing a moan out of you. “I need an answer,” he growls. “Or I’ll make you cum right here. Don’t try me.” 

Through quivering lips and hitched breaths, you answer him. “N-No,” you whimper. “I just felt sexy tonight and I wanted to tease you.” You have to clench your teeth to avoid moaning as he begins to play with your clit, coaxing your legs open a bit to watch his fingers toy with the brown hood. 

“Well, little lady,” he chuckles, “consider me teased.” He leans in and presses a rough, whiskey-soaked kiss to your quivering lips before pulling away. “So now let me give you what you’re after.” 

That’s how you find yourself up against the wall of a bathroom stall in the bar with Shanks’ hips furiously thrusting as he pounds his cock deep into your needy, wet pussy, giving you no choice but to clench around him. Your legs are wrapped around him, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other is running through his red hair, your moans ringing out above the bar’s ruckus. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he huffs into your ear. “You wanted to be my little slut tonight?” He fucks you harder, faster, getting you both closer and closer to your explosive orgasm of the night. “Cum for me,” he demands. “Be a good girl and cum around your captain’s cock, baby doll.” 

And you do. You don’t have a choice but to do so. And when he finally cums deep inside of you, he makes sure you give you enough so it’s dripping down your thighs when you walk out of the bathroom minutes later, Shanks laughing while you’re an embarrassed, fucked-out mess. 

ACE

“Girl, don’t play with me,” he firmly says. “I mean it.” 

You blink at him, confused for a moment. all you're doing is sitting cross-legged next to him, sipping on your cocktail, looking cute and absolutely scrumptious in your yellow mini-dress that brings out the color of your skin and the deep brown of your eyes. Ace has been telling you that you look like the prettiest sun he's ever seen ever since you stepped out to join him at the club. 

“What?” you ask. “All I’m doing is sitting here.” Ace eyes you from beneath his hat, his eyes trailing down to your thighs. “Yeah, without somethin’ underneath,” he replies. Your heartbeat jumps when you realize he’s caught on. “What?” he chuckles. “You think I wouldn’t notice when I can see that ass?” 

And he can. From his angle, he has a clear view of your bottom cheeks as you sit with your legs crossed. “Maybe I was just hot,” you argue, holding back a playful smile. “There has been a heatwave for a couple of days. Plus, it makes me cooler.” 

“Cooler, hm?” Ace scoots closer to you, his hand sliding up your bare thigh. “Don’t get too cool now, darlin’,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers up and down your spine. “I need you hot and bothered for this next part.” 

That’s when his hand begins to slide between your thighs, coaxing them open to reveal a sliver of your shaved, bare pussy to him. “Fuck,” he hisses, ogling at your sex. His reaction makes you flush, the idea of doing something so naughty in such a public place enticing you so. “So now what?” you purr. “You just gonna stare at it? As flattered as I am, I– oh, fuck!” 

A gasp escapes you as you feel your boyfriend’s fingers begin to toy with your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing your clit. Right there in the club booth! “Hm, you’re already wet for me, mama,” he appreciatively hums, watching your face intently for your reactions. “Were you this wet when you were changing earlier, thinkin’ about me doin’ this?” 

“Ace,” you whisper, your eyes leaving his to assess the club. Luckily, everyone is too busy dancing and drinking to notice your boyfriend playing with your pussy, but the idea that someone could see turns you on even more. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, an evil glint in his eye. “You can let that voice out more. The music is loud enough.” 

He begins to press his finger very lightly against your entrance and you’d just about cry out in pleasure if it wasn’t for his little brother dancing up to them to the reggaeton beat playing from the speakers above. “What are you guys sittin’ down for?!” Luffy yells, drunk with his hat tipped sideways and those hips moving. “C’mon and dance with me! The music is great!”

You try to move away from Ace, but his finger sinking into your pussy stops you. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning as he begins to slowly and torturously finger fuck your cunt, gliding against the underside of your clit as he does so. “Oh, we’ll be there,” Ace reassures his brother with a smile. “Right, Y/N? You love this type of music.” 

You can barely breathe, let alone speak. Fortunately, Luffy is dancing away to join his crew on the floor, leaving you and Ace alone. You turn to him, glaring daggers at him. “I fucking hate you,” you growl. 

Ace chuckles as he starts to thumb your clit, emitting soft moans from your lips. “I love you too, mama,” he coos, kissing your neck. “I’ll treat you to a dance after I make you cum, m’kay?” 

And he does both: he makes you cum on his fingers right under the table and buys you a pretty drink to go with a pretty girl like you. 

LAW 

He is befuddled. Confused. And completely alarmed. 

Because why the fuck are you just walking around his ship with no panties on? He realizes this when you first come sauntering into his bed chambers one night and sit in his lap. He’s at his desk, looking over a map and circling some hotspots to stop at for food and supplies. “Hey,” you coo, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleep?” he grumbles, doing his best to not admire you in your pink mini dress with the flowers printed on it and how the hem stops at your thighs. “We pull into port come dawn.” 

You hum in acknowledgement. “I know, but you’ve been sitting here almost all day. And plus, I need you in order to sleep.” You lean in to kiss along his thick neck and shoulders, cooing softly as you do. The scent of your perfume and your soft voice in his ear are enough to make him bust, but alas, he has work to do. “Well, try,” he deadpans, giving your thigh a pinch. “Now c’mon, I have work to do. I’ll be there in a bit.” 

You whine in protest, wiggling around in his lap and causing his cock to stir. “But you said that an hour ago!” you argue with a pout of your soft, glossy lips. “Come on, Law, snuggle with me!” But when he gives you one of those stern looks, you sigh and scoot off of his lap to sit on his bed, pouty and mad. 

He’s supposed to go back to his work. Keyword: supposed to. But all of that goes out the window as he watches you lean back and open your legs in the mirror behind his desk that faces you. Your eyes stay posted to his as you do so, the hem of your dress riding up to reveal your naked thighs and ass. “Da hell?” he asks, confused. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently, even as your thighs slowly move apart. Law swears he nearly has a heart attack when he realizes that there is nothing covering your pussy, revealing all of you to him. “Where the fuck are your panties?” he asks, glaring at the sight. 

“It was hot today,” you answer simply. “So I went without.” You lean back farther onto your hands, causing your dress to ride up onto your naked stomach. Law can't take his eyes off of your pussy though. It looks so pretty; so brown; so delectable.

“Were you just…walkin’ around like that all day?” he asks barely above a growl. “Without any panties?” He doesn't realize that he’s gripping the map until he hears a slight tear in the paper that makes him stop. 

You shoot him a scowl. “Why do you care?” you retort. “You weren’t payin’ any attention to me, so don’t act like you do now.” But obviously, you’re lying. You want him and you knew exactly how to get him. That’s why you made sure to skip out on wearing undies today. 

Nothing more comes out of Law except for groans and grunts of pleasure when he is on top of you minutes later, his clothes off and his hands gripping the hem of your dress as he fucks you in it. He has your legs up by your ears and his cock sunk deep into your pussy that makes such nice, squelching noises for him every time he thrusts into it.

“Now,” he huffs, staring down at your pretty face and jiggling titties, “any mouth you got for me now? Huh, little girl?” 

You don’t give him anything but a sob, your pretty face contorted in sheer pleasure as his cock strokes your insides. Law chuckles and sinks his two thick fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, right down to his knuckle tattoos.

“I didn't think so,” he groans. 

[diminuel]

I said I'd try to write a little companion piece/ continuation to my Luffy time traveling into the past to meet a young Crocodile comic!

As a warning: I know nothing about ships and since this is just a little no pressure project to try to get out of writer's block I didn’t do a lot of research. There is also a plot discrepancy because Luffy mentions Bonney and her abilities which he shouldn’t know based on the frame story I’ve given this fic *lol* Also: I don't know how to write these characters yet.

No beta, sorry for mistakes.

This is a Crocodad AU fic of course! ♥

--

Maybe This Time Part 1 (3.5k)

“Better get down from there, Luffy!” Nami called from the upper deck. “I don’t quite trust these clouds.” Luffy turned to look over his shoulder, feet dangling over the railing. Nami stood with a hand over her brow, looking up at the sky. Luffy turned back to look out at the sea and tilted his head up. The sky had a pretty green hue, nearly blending seamlessly into a dark mist rising above them. A huge dark cloud had formed ahead, casting a shadow over the sea in the distance.

“Just-“

He titled forward, lost his grip on the railing. A swooping feeling of falling tickled his stomach but before he could make a surprised sound he hit the surface of the water. It felt like he was crashing through glass.

And then it was dark.

This wasn’t the first time Luffy woke up after having been tossed into the water, but for some reason he was bone dry. And oddly thirsty.

“Thirsty,” he wheezed, sticking out his tongue to escape the uncomfortable dryness of his mouth.

A small barrel with a straw was held out to him with a curt “here.” Luffy’s attention zeroed in on the offering and he grabbed it without second-thought. A couple of deep gulps of the water later he felt a lot better already. He heaved a sigh in relief. He took the straw into his mouth again, starting a thank you as he turned towards his savior.

Startled, he sucked in water and spit it out again before he could choke on it, right into the face of someone who looked shockingly familiar.

“BABA?!” Luffy yelled. The person in front of stared at him blanky, the water dripping off his face.

Luffy stared right back. Could it be? This wasn’t Baba as he knew him, but much younger. Sure, they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months, but he couldn’t change that much, right? But who else could it be? The same hair, the same eyes, the same scar, the same unimpressed expression.

A thousand questions rampaged through Luffy’s minds. How was Baba here? Last they had talked he had been still on Buggy’s homebase. Had he saved him? Where was his crew? What kind of island was this? But one question seemed most important.

“Why are you so young?!” Luffy asked, staring at Baba who couldn’t be much older than Luffy was now.

“Huh?”

“Was it Bonney?” The confusion on Baba’s face only grew.

“Who?” he asked. Luffy stared back at him taking in the complete lack of recognition on Baba’s face.

What?

“Don’t you recognize me, Baba?!” Luffy shouted in horror. The corners of Baba’s mouth twitched and his brows drew down. At least that was a marginally more familiar expression on his face.

“My name isn’t Baba,” he insisted. “And no. Should I?” That hit Luffy like Grandpa’s fist of love.

“Yes!!” Luffy argued, feeling overwhelmed and his crew wasn’t even here to help figure this out. Robin or Jinbei would know what to do! Luffy looked at the sea. It was overcast, the sun faint, the air cool. It was most likely early morning. There wasn’t a single ship visible in the bay or beyond. No other people on this beach. He could feel tears form in his eyes.

“What is going on?” he yelled.

--

There were rules for unexpected situations that had been drilled into his head at an early age. Get yourself out of any immediate danger. Figure out where your people are and regroup. Figure out where you are. Eat. Everything else can wait until after you’ve eaten.

Maybe the importance placed on food was just the Monkey family’s way of dealing with problems, but Luffy wasn’t about to complain. The perfectly grilled meat and the little stick that was loaded with huge mushrooms helped to dampen the anxious pit in his stomach. But the moment he looked up and caught a glimpse of the person sitting across from him, tearing the meat straight off the bone in an unsettling lack of finesse, he felt like he was being dunked into sea water again.

Just what was going on here? Luffy had been travelling with his crew, enjoying that exhilarating part of adventuring where you were simply sailing, facing the challenges the sea of the New World threw at you, not yet knowing where the path would take you. And then the next thing he knew he was plunged into water, sank, blacked out.

Nothing after made any sense. Because the person that had saved him…

“You’re staring.” Luffy startled at the unsettlingly unfamiliar voice. He watched the person opposite him pick his teeth. “Do I really look like that Baba person?” Maybe a smart man would keep his mouth shut and Luffy had been raised to have at least a pinch of common sense between his ears but…

Just what was he supposed to do when a young version of his father was sitting opposite him?!

“You do,” he settled on saying, wary. Baba didn’t look particularly upset by his lack of an explanation, not even a hint of annoyance pinching his brow. And that was unusual too.

What was this? A hallucination? Someone’s devil fruit power? Actual time travel?

(And why not into the future so Luffy could at least see cool robots shooting lasers?)

“What did you say your name was?” Baba asked, genuinely curious, then he pointed at the food in Luffy’s hands. “More where that came from,” he promised. “Eat.” And wasn’t that just another strange thing? Why was he so nice to him if he didn’t even know who Luffy was? Luffy stuffed the food in his mouth, chewing morosely.

“Monkey D. Luffy. I’m going to be the pirate king,” he announced, though far more subdued than he usually was when introducing himself. Baba’s eyebrow lifted.

“There’s no such thing as a king of pirates,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Isn’t that the whole point? The freedom?” Luffy swallowed his food, tilting his head in confusion. Baba put his elbow on his knee, and propped his chin in his palm. He grinned at Luffy, the expression open and joyful, almost mischievous. “That’s why I set sail. I want to do things for myself, see what I can achieve on the Grandline!” His grin softened to an expression a lot more familiar to Luffy though he couldn’t exactly place it. “A big adventure before…,” he trailed off and sat up straight, still grinning but not sharing his thoughts.

It was strange to hear Baba talk of freedom and piracy like that. While Baba had given Ace, Sabo and him a lot of practical information on what to expect out of piracy, he almost never talked about how it used to be for him when he just starting out. Luffy didn’t know when he became a pirate, what motivated him or why he gave up that freedom for a warlord position.

He just knew that nowadays everything, even freedom, was shackled by conditions upon conditions. A thousand locks for Baba and Dad to pick before it could be achieved. Luffy had never quite understood it. Freedom was so easy to achieve if you just pushed your boat off the shore.

Maybe this Baba still trusted that freedom was always within reach.

“How old are you?” Luffy blurted out, putting aside the unease about the situation to admit a little bit of curiosity. Even if it was a hallucination or the work of a very capable impostor, he wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know everything about him.

“19,” Baba answered. “And you?”

“Uh, me too,” Luffy said, then lifted his fingers. “46 minus 19.”

“27,” Baba answered right away, chewing on a mushroom. It seems Baba hadn’t yet discovered the “don’t talk with your mouth full” rule.

“27 years?” Luffy repeated in dawning horror, touching his palms to his cheeks. “I’m 27 years in the past?!” He whined and let himself drop onto his back. He stared up at the overcast sky, partially visible through the sparse trees here so close to the shore. How was that possible?! Did they sail into some sort of mystical area of the Grandline and were now all scattered across time? Was that even possible?

Baba’s face appeared in his field of vision, blocking out the sky.

“What are you talking about?” he wanted to know, his hands in his hips as he bent down to study Luffy. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re from the future.”

“But I am!” Luffy insisted and jumped to his feet. Luckily Baba straightened quickly enough to not be hit by Luffy’s head. He grimaced, momentarily distracted by the fact that even now his father was nearly a head taller than him. He shrugged it off. “I know that there is no known devil fruit that will grant the user the ability to go back in time. But there has got to be an explanation for this!”

“Other than you being insane?” Baba offered but judged by his tone and the grin stretching his lips he was teasing, not mocking. Luffy groaned, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You do realize that what you’re saying is improbable.”

“But it’s still true!” Baba didn’t react to his outburst. “I’ve seen a lot of so-called improbable things before! Islands with dinosaurs! Islands that fly in the sky! Islands where people turned into living toys!” Baba lifted his eyebrows at that. Luffy waved him off. “It was just Mingo, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying about it,” Baba answered, amusement evident. “But it seems like you’ve already travelled a bit. I thought you were new to the Grandline. You look like a rookie.”

“I’m not!” Luffy protested then pointed his thumb at his chest. “I’ve been on the Grandline for 2 years! I’ve got an amazing ship and the best crew in the world!” At the mention of his crew his spirits sunk like an anchor. He hoped they were okay…!

“Where were you when you got separated from your crew? You can’t have been washed ashore from that far away,” Baba asked. Luffy hummed, trying to remember. He scratched his head.

“We’d been on sea for about three weeks after Wano,” he said. “But we hadn’t come into stable climate yet, so I don’t think we were close to an island.”

“Wano,” Baba repeated. “You were in the New World?” He seemed surprised now. Was he doubting him again?

“You’re in the New World too,” Luffy shot back.

“No! We’re on Agaricus,” Baba insisted. Luffy squinted at him. Where had he heard that name before? He was sure he had heard Baba mention it. “The next big island you might have heard of is Alabasta.” Luffy hit his balled fist into his palm in recognition.

“The autumn island where you like to go mushroom hunting!” he said then the words registered. “What?! We’re in the first half of the Grandline?!” Baba looked about as shocked as Luffy felt.

“How do you know that?” he asked and it took a moment for Luffy to realize that he looked wary all of a sudden, his stance a lot less relaxed. Luffy knew that he should be able to defend himself against a 19-year-old version of his father, but he still didn’t want to test that hypothesis if Baba actually started to believe that Luffy was a threat.

“I told you! I’m from the future! I know you!” Luffy defended himself. Baba frowned at him, but his stance shifted just a bit. A soft sound at Luffy’s feet made him look down just to see tendrils of sand slip back down on the floor. He hadn’t even realized that Baba must have manipulated the sand to grab him if needed. When Luffy looked up Baba’s expression was serious, a crease between his eyebrows.

“27 years into the future,” Baba affirmed. “When you and your crew sailed the New World. As apparently I do too.” He rubbed his arms, his face uncertain for the first time. “I’m still alive in 27 years?”

“Obviously!” Luffy insisted, angry at the suggestion that Baba would not make it on the Grandline. “You’re strong!” A small grin appeared on Baba’s face.

“Yeah? So how do we know each other? Am I your captain or something?” Luffy wrinkled his nose but at the same time Baba did too. “Do I insist on everybody calling me Baba like fucking Whitebeard wants everyone to call him Pops?” Baba made a disgusted expression at that. Luffy of course knew that Baba and Whitebeard had history, but as most things of his father’s past, this was something he kept close to his chest. Sometimes his secrecy was quite annoying and it was hard to pretend not to care about what had happened, especially since the old man had meant so much to Ace.

“How can you already have a grudge against Whitebeard at 19?”

“Oh, so you don’t know everything, Monkey D. Luffy,” Baba said, his grim look dropping quickly at the supposed upper hand he fancied himself to have. Luffy wasn’t used to these quick mood changes. Still, instead of answering he grimaced. “What?”

“I don’t like when you call me by my full name. You only do that when you’re scolding me. Call me Luffy or Strawhat.”

“Strawhat?” Baba asked, laughing. Luffy pulled his hat from his back and put it onto his head demonstratively. “And you let me scold you? What am I? Your mom?” Luffy pressed his lips together, the question feeling like someone had upended a bucket of cold water onto his head. But Baba laughed in amusement as if the thought was absurd. “Am I your captain?”

For the first time a different kind of worry made a home in Luffy’s mind. He had arguably no experience in time traveling but he wondered if it was a good idea to let his father know too much. Could Luffy change the past just by being here? Could he change his own present if he messed up here?

Luffy knew that he was a “happy accident.” What if he told Baba who he was and Baba decided to be a bit more careful so that no happy accidents happened accidentally? That’d be horrible! Would Luffy just disappear?! Maybe this was the true danger of this situation!

“You’re not my captain! I’m the captain of my ship!” Luffy insisted, pride in his position winning out over the moment of panic.

“Then what’s our connection?” Crocodile asked and took a step closer to Luffy, a glint in his eyes that Luffy didn’t quite like. He didn’t have a sharp hook to hold under his nose but he had a sharp and menacing grin. “Spit it out, Strawhat.”

“I… I don’t know anything!” Luffy said through pursed lips, looking away. But other than grab him and shake him or worse (as Luffy had seen Baba do to people who annoyed him or lied to him) Baba just blinked at him. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

“I know someone who’s just as horrible as you are at lying!” he said. Luffy wrinkled his nose. Not everyone could lie professionally. “But why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because I am from the future!” Luffy insisted. “What if I say something that changes something big?! I don’t want that! I like my life! Maybe if someone sent me into this past, this is their objective?! What if they’re trying to kill me by letting me make a mistake here in the past that leads to me not being born?!”

“That seems far too much effort,” Baba said, looking Luffy up and down. “You don’t look particularly strong, Strawhat,” he said his tone annoyingly patronizing. “A stray bullet could kill you.”

“What?! I am strong! And my bounty is higher than yours!” he protested. Luffy would never have said that to his Baba’s face but this young version of him was different. “And I’m not going to tell you what it is!” Baba rolled his eyes.

“At least tell me I didn’t choose something as stupid as Baba as my name,” he said, then he moved his hand and a wave of sand spread over the fire they had roasted their food on, dousing it at once.

“I’ve always done my best to fly under the marine’s radar and it’s hard to break the habit. I haven’t really gotten my name out there yet,” Baba continued. He pointed at Luffy. “But I will! The world will soon hear of the exploits of Crocodile!” Luffy stared at him, taking in his wide, confident grin.

Baba looked impossibly young.

“Yes,” Luffy agreed, not sure why there was a lump in his throat. Baba smiled at him, then he reached out to pat Luffy’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” Baba turned around and started packing up the rest of the cooked meat and mushrooms. He tossed Luffy a bag, then shouldered his own. When he walked away from the camp, Luffy trailed after him.

“Where are we going?” he asked. They stepped out of the outskirts of the forest and back onto the beach. There was a small ship docking on a pier that Luffy hadn’t noticed back when he had first woken up. It wasn’t much bigger than the one Luffy had initially set out on. Far too small for a crew of more than two. Not a vessel that looked suited for the Grandline.

“You’re looking for your crew, right? And a way to get back home, wherever and whenever that might be,” Baba said and then thrust his thumb behind him, towards the ship. “So what do you say, Strawhat Luffy? Want to join me?” Luffy looked at him in surprise. Baba wasn’t exactly the kind of person to make such generous offers to strangers, at least he wasn’t today.

“Fine. But I’m captain!” Luffy said and extended his arm to grab onto the ship’s mast. He pulled himself onto the ship, Baba staring after him. Luffy sat himself down at the helm of the ship. Baba cursed to himself, then undid the rope and gave his ship a powerful shove with his foot. He turned into sand and landed on the ship next to Luffy.

“No way! This is my ship!” Luffy looked up the mast, noticing the lack of a pirate flag.

“Baba-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Crocodile, you don’t even have a pirate flag!” he said disapprovingly and for the first time Baba actually seemed embarrassed. “Does your ship have name at least?”

“Yeah, it’s the Mind Your Own Business Strawhat!” Crocodile went down into the cabin and then came back with an eternal pose. Luffy couldn’t read the name written on it. Crocodile walked to the steering wheel and then looked up at the sail. Luffy watched as sand spread from Crocodile’s body until the sails were lifted and caught the wind.

“Where are we going?” Luffy asked, inspecting the stemhead but it didn’t seem particularly comfortable to sit on. Crocodile’s ship didn’t even have a figurehead! Maybe he had a banana in his galley so Luffy could put it on the stemhead. The "Mind your Own Business Strawhat" needed least some decoration. Momentarily caught up in his musings, it took him a moment to turn back around to look up at Crocodile behind the wheel. It was strange seeing him there. He had only sailed with Crocodile on the same ship once, leaving Impel Down. He didn’t know why it seemed so strange to see him man a ship himself. He knew that his father was a pirate and yet it seemed odd to realize what that actually meant. That he hadn’t always been a warlord who tended to stay in one place or travel on marine vessels, that he hadn’t always had 2000 people under his command, that he hadn’t always been an emperor’s commander. But he looked comfortable behind the wheel, like he had never done anything else.

“Do you want to go all the way to Wano?” Luffy eventually asked and jumped up to where Crocodile was. “What about your own adventure? Don’t you want to follow the log poses and do your route around the Grandline?”

“I don’t mind making a detour,” he easily said as if it wasn’t difficult at all for him to give up his plans. “And absolutely not, I’m not going to sail into the blue like that just based on your last location in allegedly 27 years from now” Crocodile said with a scoff. “We need information.” He smiled down at the log pose. “And I might have an idea where we could get it.”

To be continued? If you find it too hard to read on here I can post it on AO3.

[lowkeyrobin]

hello!!

would you be willing to do a TMR minho fic?

basically just them at the little glade treehouse (i live for that treehouse lol) and maybe they stole some food from frypan and are just chatting and having a laugh together whilst cuddling or something bc they dont get to spend alot of time together as he is always in the maze??

(been loving your writing recently btw, literally one of the v few writers who write for MCYTS and respect their boundaries so tysm!!)

hope ur having a good day:)

oh hell yeah brother LMAO ; also thank you and you're welcome!! im all for respecting boundaries because ik how that feels when they're broken + I'm not a weirdo lol, and thank you for appreciating my work, it means sm to me 🫶🫶🫶 ; have a good day/night :) ; post writing me, sorry this is so short :( ; also I know I said I was in trouble but NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT??

MINHO ; tree house cuddles

summary ; sneaking food into the tree house and having late night convos with minho

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader is a track-hoe, Thomas has been in the maze for months and exists, but no Teresa/escaping the maze

word count ; 459

masterlist

You loved your beautiful boyfriend Minho. He was an angel sent from above, truly. Or... maybe below? The box and what existed out of the Glade was confusing, sadly. God, you wished you could remember anything outside of here.

Sadly, you hadn't seen him very much recently.

He'd been busy with his duties in the maze and the Map Room, and you've been busy working in the gardens damn near all day every day. Your rations were running low, the crops were growing slower than ever, and you couldn't figure out why. It's not like there were deer or raccoons feasting on them either. It was just you Gladers here, nothing else. You'd been stressing out over it and needed some time away from it for a while.

Thankfully, the beloved tree house existed, and rarely anyone used it.

You'd stolen a basket of fruit from Fry's kitchen, awaiting the arrival of Minho. Hopefully, Newt stuck to his word, or remembered to, to send Minho to the tree house to spend some time with you.

Thankfully, the beautiful Korean boy showed up, dressed casual and out of the heavy gear he had to wear in the maze. He greeted you with a tired yet warm smile, sitting down with you on the wooden floor.

"Hey, how's your day?" He asks, sitting next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

You hand him a little basket of strawberries. "Fine, I guess." You shrug, "Need a minute away from the gardens"

He nods, "I need a minute away from the shuckin' maze"

You dangle your feet off the side of the platform, soaking up each other's presence.

He pulls you into his lap, between his legs. He rests his chin on your shoulder while his arms rest around your waist. You feel your stomach swarm with butterflies, resting your hands over his.

"I love you" He whispers, placing a kiss on your temple.

"Love you too, dork," you reply with a smile, leaning your head back to rest yourself against him.

"What a romantic" He giggles, pulling you a little closer.

The night continues on in peace, smiles, giggles and kisses shared, hands intertwined. You share your body heat, cuddled up and comfy.

"No, no, no, he said something like he was gonna beat him back into the box! How does that even work? Gally acts like Thomas is some universal threat or something" You laugh as you speak.

"I have no idea, darling." He smiles and chuckles, listening to you ramble on and on about stories he'd missed during the day.

You look up at him and place a kiss on his jawline, a stupid smile on his face.

"Love you"

"Love you too"

"...Thanks for being mine"

"Okay, shut up, shank"

[heartschampion]

september 30th — ethan landry

PAIRING. ethan landry x fem!reader

SUMMARY. in which you make a bet with your boyfriend, ethan, the night before the start of october. thirty-one days of sex.

CONTENT. no ghostface!au, ethan bailey is canon!!, established relationship, fluff, bantering, a little suggestive, no smut, basically a prologue chapter, no beta, not proofread.

WORD COUNT. 1.9k

previous. masterlist. next.

11:49 PM. 

It’s times like this where I find myself thinking — really thinking — deeper into life and its meaning. The closer I look, the more I start to realize how glorified life is. I follow the same routine day-in and day-out. Wake up, get ready, go to class, go home, and get ready for the same thing tomorrow. It’s like the only time I get to have a reprise is in moments late into the night, all snuggled up and ready to sleep. A sliver of freedom in a meticulously bland and boring way of life.

Not to be melodramatic or anything. Ethan often told me I have a knack for that.

The blinding light of my laptop screen hits my retinas with a harsh glare despite having set the brightness to its dimmest setting. Still, beggars can’t be choosers, so I tough it out. I scroll aimlessly through my Tumblr dashboard, skimming past posts until one catches my attention just enough for me to stop and actually read.

‘Mattheo Riddle x Reader, Niccolo Govender x Reader, Jack Ch—’

“Ugh,” a small groan sounds from beside me on the bed. With a quirk of a smile, I glance beside me at my boyfriend, Ethan Bailey, who is laid there in all his glory. He has his arm draped over his eyes, covering them from the light emitting from my laptop. For a split second, I feel bad for disturbing his sleep. Ethan lets out another groan before throwing his arm off to the side, his eyes flickering over to my figure. “Angel, can we please go to bed?”

I sigh as I hear the pleading tone of his voice and shoot him an apologetic look.

“Just a few more minutes, Eth. Promise.”

Ethan simply gives me a blank stare, not believing my words for a second. He rolls over onto his side, now fully facing me with a sulky little pout on his lips. As cute as he is, I can’t fall for his tricks and forget about the task I had assigned myself. Ethan raises his head from the pillow, craning his neck to peek at my screen. Curious, he asks, “What are you doing anyways?”

A soft smile crosses my face at his question, both amused by the innocence behind it and touched by his curiosity. I reach over to pet his messed up curls, a habit that I had developed ever since the two of us moved in together for the new semester. Immediately, Ethan melts into my touch, visibly relaxing at the contact shared between the two of us.

“Just waiting for all the October context to start being posted.”

“Why October specifically?” He asks while furrowing his brows in confusion, completely and blissfully unaware of what I was talking about at all. It was kind of cute that he didn’t know, especially considering Richie of all people ran an active and thriving blog. It was literally the worst kept secret ever. Even Quinn knew. “Something special happening?”

“Mmm, something like that…” I giggle, causing Ethan to raise his furrowed brow at me in question. Unable to keep a straight face at the overly serious expression that he’s giving me, I burst out in laughter, deciding to finally enlighten him to the world of Kinktober. After a few moments, I calm myself down, taking a few deep breaths, letting out some final snickers. On the flip side, Ethan just stares at me blankly, unamused. With a roll of my eyes, I softly scratch at his scalp, confessing the ‘dirty secret’ I had been keeping for so long. “It’s Kinktober. Y’know, when writers just shit out a bunch of written porn?”

“Kink…tober?” Ethan repeats back, his expression contorting into one of confusion. He repeats the word a few more times, looking deep in contemplation while processing the information I had just dumped on him. Without even trying to hide it, I coo at him like an owner would at their pet. Blinking, he deadpans, “So you’re up at midnight just to read porn?”

“Smut.”

“Right. Smut.” He corrects himself, but not without a dramatic show of rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. It’s now my turn to roll my eyes, removing my hand from his hair and flicking his forehead in retaliation. Immediately, Ethan swats my hand away from anywhere near his face and rubs his forehead, grumbling to himself as he gives me a proper stinkeye. In return, I simply give him a cheeky smile and stick out my tongue, albeit a bit childishly.

It doesn’t take much long though until he forgets about the whole ordeal and goes back to the topic at hand. He clicks his tongue, eyes brightening with an idea that I know could be no good and smirks at me. With a lazy drawl, he asks smugly, “Why read about sex when you have me?”

Not expecting that of all things to come out of his mouth, I’m taken by surprise. A snort escapes my lips at the suggestive implication in his words. Placing my laptop beside me, I prop myself up on my elbow and lean down to Ethan, squinting at him. “What’re you trying to say, Bailey?”

Like a predator stalking his prey, he gazes up at me, a tinge of seduction behind those innocent looking brown eyes. He eyes me with temptation, luring me in before he can swallow me whole. His larger hand stalks around my hip, caressing at my skin as he travels across its smooth surface. Suddenly, I’m pulled in, now on top of him and straddling his hips where I can feel him start to harden.

“There’s no way some dumb words could ever be better than…me.”

He’s right and we both know it, but a bigger part of me wants to challenge him on that. Maybe it’s his cockiness in his tone, or the fact that his growing boner is directly pressing against my clothed core as he grinds his hips. Either way, I raise my eyebrow, looking down at him from above. “Really, huh? Big words coming from someone who came within the first three minutes last time.”

At the reminder of the last time we had sex, his eyes widened and his face flushed in embarrassment. “That was an accident!” He vehemently exclaims, defending himself for his early ejaculation. 

If I were to be completely honest, I was kind of turned on from how easily he came from just being inside of me, not even fully engulfed. The idea was lewder than the circumstances surrounding it, but the prospect of him almost coming inside of me — Even though we were protected — was as enticing as it was terrifying.

“Besides, you know how good I can make you feel.” Ethan then attempts to wink, his eyelids not cooperating, leading to him blinking instead. Realizing that he messed up his attempt to be smooth, he shakes his head and instead smiles sheepishly.

I giggle at his silliness, brushing aside the curls near his eyes with a level of fondness I once never would have known to exist. He really was perfect for me. Pinching his cheeks, I keep poking at him and his cocky attitude. “You think you can keep up?”

“Babe, I know I can.” He states as confident as ever, a smirk playing on his face. Without another word, he starts to run his hands up my thighs, my skin prickling up at his electric touch. Reaching my hips, he starts to rub circles around my hip dips, fondling my inner thighs. I let out a deep sigh, both relaxing at his intimate touch, and tensing as his boner pokes into me. Unable to help myself, I grind my pulsating core against him, satisfying the need.

“So cute...”

I whine at his words, embarrassed at just how badly I needed him at this moment. He was the one who started it in the first place, yet I was the one here left to look like a mess instead of him. It was unfair. Continuing to grind against him, he suddenly stops his movements. I hiss out, “Eth, you annoying fuck…”

Out of nowhere, he flips the two of us around, the lower half of his body pressed against me as he looks down on me. I’m caged in his arms, each one placed beside me, trapping me as his prisoner. Ethan cocks his head to the side, an innocent look on his face. He speaks in a sickeningly sweet voice, “What’s the matter, angel?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“Do I?” He asks, pretending to think about it.

“Eth!” I hiss, squirming underneath him. He’s so close, the only thing separating us being the clothes we have on. Never have I ever wanted to not have any on more than I do right now. I needed to feel him, all of him. Not just his warmth, but skin against skin to truly prove that he was right there with me.

Ethan lets out a chuckle, grinning at how needy I was being. I bet he really got off on that, huh? Knowing that he was in control, having me wrapped around his finger. Fuck, I needed him in me whether it was his fingers or his dick. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at me like he was reprimanding me. “Thirty-one days, angel. You can wait a few hours.”

Just like that, Ethan shifts off of me and back to his side of the bed with a satisfied smile on his face. The sudden switch from before to now was jarring and it took me a few moments before I completely processed what just happened. I scoff, propping myself up on my elbows and looking over at him.

“Are you serious?” “Super.” The pain in the ass called my boyfriend responds, closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“You’re literally cockblocking yourself!” I sputter out in disbelief. Ethan Bailey, the boy who couldn’t keep his hands off of me. The same boy who literally cried the first time we had sex — I did too. The same boy who was now laying in our bed with a rock-hard boner, yet doing nothing about it when he had the more than eager opportunity to. What a fucking idiot.

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking over his words carefully. “I can handle it.”

I let out an overdramatic huff as I collapsed onto the bed. Looking over, I peer at Ethan’s ‘sleeping’ face. A few moments passed of me just staring at him with a blank expression before he opened one eye and looked at me with a questioning expression. “Can’t sleep, love?”

“Don’t even.” I warned, glaring at him and his feigned nonchalance.

He chuckles, and I can feel him shift in the bed. Soon, arms wrap around me and pull me into a tight embrace. My face is gently placed against Ethan’s nape where I often laid on nights like this. Without a word, I wrap my arms and legs around him like a koala with a tree, seeking any contact with him. I bury my face into his nape, taking in his cinnamon scent.

“Sorry.” Despite his words, Ethan lets out another chuckle, the vibrations of it throughout his body a soothing feeling against my tense body.

I grumble, “You’re not sorry.”

He huffs in amusement at my sulkiness, petting my hair. Pecks and kisses litter my face in a frenzy as a way of him trying to make me feel better. To his credit, it does work despite my attempts to not let it. How could I ever resist his kisses? Peering down at me, Ethan smiles softly before kissing my lips. Cinnamon chapstick and lemonade citrus.

“Happy…uh…Kinktober, angel.”