#i don't think i could encompass everything into one ask

[luveline]

gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing

thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k

Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 

You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 

"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 

"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 

Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 

"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 

"I'm just trying to figure something out." 

This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 

You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 

He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 

That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 

"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 

"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 

He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 

Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 

You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 

I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 

You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 

This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 

I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 

You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 

—

The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 

"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 

He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 

He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 

Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 

He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 

Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 

"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 

Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 

Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 

Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 

He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  

He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 

His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 

"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 

"I'm an idiot–" 

"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"

"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 

"I shouldn't have–" 

"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 

Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 

He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 

"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 

Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 

"It's not okay." 

"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 

"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 

"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 

"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 

You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 

"I know." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 

What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 

"Does it look really bad?" 

"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 

"Are my eyes puffy?"

A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 

"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 

Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 

"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 

Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 

You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 

"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."

"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 

You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 

"That feels nice," you mumble. 

He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 

"Don't," you warn. 

He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 

"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 

"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry." 

Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.

[sirxlla]

It Comes Naturally

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

Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Slight Angst

Prompt: "Dad things he does subconciously" with buck (request by anon)

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

A lot of the fatherly things he did initally came out in ways of making sure that you had properly bandaged your finger or carrying you to the bedroom when you fell asleep on the couch. It was just casually caring for your partner as one should, like making sure you had enough dinner or that you got to work safely.

As time went on in the relationship progressed, you noticed how fatherly he seemed to Chris. How he would help him every single time he had the opportunity, maybe with homework, girl talk or other general things.

Buck is so kind and attentive, most of the time he can tell how someone's feeling just by looking at their face or reading the room. He is always so good at making sure to clock your emotions and how you're feeling.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asked as he came into the room.

"I promise it's nothing." You had said not wanting to put your shitty day on to him.

"I know that's entirely bullshit." He smiles, gently grabbing your chin so he can gaze into your eyes.

"I'm just having a rough day, I'm remembering some shit from my childhood." Your eyes slightly teared up as you are trying your hardest not to cry. He pulled you into a hug and everything starts to feel right, his hugs were all encompassing. You know how they say that everything faded and it was just you and him? Like the movies. That's exactly how it felt with him his hugs were just the best thing you could think of whenever you're feeling like shit.

His dad behavior seem to spike when his sister had a baby. Every single time that Maddie needed a babysitter he was the first person to jump on it. He tended to carry Jee around everywhere, showing her how he does everything even if she can't understand.

"And this is the smoke alarm." He held her up so she could see the smoke alarm. There was no rhyme or reason to the things that he showed her just random things around the house like the top of the fridge, the pantry or the microwave. Of course considering the fact that she's a baby she has no idea what's going on but she enjoys it just the same.

You often caught him watching Bluey, Max & Ruby, Blue's Clues or whatever TV show he had put on for the little girl, he had gotten sidetracked and sat down and started watching it. Of course it started the same way it does for every other father where they glance at the TV and slowly get sucked into the plot of the episode. A couple of times you've caught him passed out on the couch with her because the both of them had fell asleep watching television.

In a way he is very much an uncle but in so many different ways he is like a father, he's patient, kind, and understanding. Evan is the perfect partner and the perfect person that you could see yourself building a life with.

When there's a problem he always talks it out with you and you both come to an understanding and say sorry because what he says is that "it takes two people to argue" and both of you are to blame; apparently this is something that Maddie taught him when she essentially raised him. It was a way of making sure everyone felt understood and cared for in any type of relationship, it took him some time but he did realize it slowly that it was indeed true in most situations.

Evan isn't just fatherly but motherly as well, he's perfect with kids, he's a fantastic partner and a wonderful human being.

It was really early in your relationship and neither of you had talked about it, having kids. So when you saw that little blue plus sign you're nervous, not because you don't want this but because you're worried it's too soon.

"Baby, I-" You take a breath as you come out of the bathroom in your pajamas. Buck is remaking the bed that both of you didnt have time to do this morning. He hears the worry in your voice and turns around.

"Hey..." He sits at the end of the bed and pulls you between his thighs, those ocean eyes staring into yours with love and care.

"I- um... I missed my period and I didn't think anything of it because I've been stressed. You know with everything that's been happening, the fires and all?" You tell him, your heart heavy in your chest. He just listens as he knows that you'll continue when you're ready, his hands slowly rubbing your hips in silent support of whatever you have to say.

"...We- We only had one test laying around." You handed him the test and watched his reaction on his face, it took a minute of his brain processing but a huge smile covered his face.

"Oh! Oh my God! Baby, you're pregnant! This is- this is good news, this is great news!" He pulled you into his lap and hugged the doubt and worry out of you.

"You're not mad? It's really early in this relationship and I really didn't want to push anything on to you." You started crying cause you were so sure he'd be upset cause generally a lot of guys would be, it was a relief.

"Mad? Baby, I've never been happier. You- You're amazing. We can do this. Right? You wanna keep it, dont you? If you don't its okay but I just-" Evan starts to get nervous as he speaks cause he realizes he doesn't want to force any decision on you or make you feel obligated to keep this baby if you don't want to.

"I- Yeah. I do." Tears pouring down your face and onto his neck.

"You're going to be the most gorgeous mother out there." Buck rubs your back as he tries to help with the tears that are dampening his shirt You had never had this type of support in your life and you knew at this exact point you wanted him in your life in any way possible.

If at some point down the road you guys didn't love each other the same way that you do now, you know that you would want him in your life as a friend at least just to have him in your life. You'd always have a connection to him and that was even before you got pregnant, but now there was a bundle of life growing within you that was part you and part him stringing the two of you together forever.

"I'm going to be here with you as long as I breathe, I promise." He whispers into your ear before pulling back so he can see your face. Buck covers your salty tear filled face in kisses.

He always knew exactly what to do to make you smile and this was no exception, the love he gave you and the compassion and care was to be unmatched by anyone no one could make you feel like this but him.

Masterlist

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 1 - All in One Piece

A bad day gets infinitely worse.

WC: 2.5k

Masterlist | AO3

A/N: This fic will include a multitude of more intense kinks and fantasy themes such as watersports, heavy BDSM, forced painful eggpreg, bloodplay, knotting, non-human dicks, somnophillia, and of course considerable amounts of monster fucking. If you're not good with those, then this isn't the fic for you sorry! More tags will be added to A03 as the fic goes, so please see what's currently listed there before you start, but those are the tags I know for sure will be included that may deter some people. This one is for my freaks! (affectionate). It won't be as long as Wavelengths but this is definitely a longer series than Pitching Tents~

Cold dirty water leaked through the hole in your worn boot as you accidentally stepped in a puddle much deeper than you'd originally anticipated. You cursed to yourself and shook your foot uselessly, your socks were fucking drenched. An awful end to an awful day. Work had been fucking draining, and if one more customer asked if you could ‘check in the back’ you were going to start killing people. Ma'am, what fucking ‘back'? It's a damn boutique, we don't even have our own private toilet! The cherry on top was the classic Karen with that classic boomer lead poisoning stare who absolutely refused to leave when you were supposed to be finished ten minutes ago. You were about ready to hit her with the wooden sandwich chalkboard as you pulled it inside if she took one more fucking second. God, all this pent up anger was getting close to boiling over, you needed to get laid, bad. Ye olde silicone dick just wasn’t going to hit the spot tonight, even if you did have a fun new one shaped like an imagining of a dragon’s cock.

You opened your phone as you walked, music blasting in your ears, blocking out the sounds of the bustling rush hour city around you while you sighed to yourself and opened a dating app in utter despair. Swipe, swipe, swipe, oh a message, ew ugly dick pic no thanks, swipe, swipe. You were at least thankful that the rain had let up for your short walk home, but if one of these men didn't reply with enthusiasm to your need for a lay you were going to scream so loud they'd hear it at the city outskirts.

Swipe, swipe, sw-

Hang on.

What the fuck just happened.

Everything was so.

Dark.

Where did the lights of the city go? Was it a blackout, caused by the weather? The rain hadn’t been that bad today had it? A moment ago you'd seen the bright neon colours of illuminated billboards and shop displays reflecting in the scattered shallow puddles, the red of the no crossing pedestrian light, the bright headlights of an oncoming bu-

Oh.

Oops.

You got hit by a bus didn't you? God fucking dammit. Well that's fucking annoying. A real fucking inconvenience to be honest.

But hey, no time to think about that, because all of a sudden it's so bright your eyes have to squint to see, and with all the force of a body that was… just hit by a bus… you were soaring horizontally through the air. It was dark again but this time… just your body? Something encompassed you, shiny and metallic, a dark reflective surface covering what you could see of your skin. Something hit your back hard, or maybe you hit it? There was a crack of wood splintering from somewhere behind you and you slumped down, sitting against… a deck? Your head throbbed with ache but you seemed to be in one piece, blinking at your surroundings to try and figure out what had happened, where you had landed. Against some sort of food truck maybe? Directly under a bright streetlight? Surely that would explain it. Voices were calling out around you, the vibrations of heavy, frantic footsteps over wood able to be felt where your hands touched the ground, but you couldn't hear anything except the buzzing in your ears, like white noise turned up far too loud, your eyes having trouble focusing through the bright light.

Something warm closed around your neck and you were dragged to stand, then further, your feet hovering above the ground as you choked, pressed against something solid behind you. You blinked again. No, that can't be right? Must be a dream, hopefully a sexy one, you must have been knocked unconscious. Scarlet red hair sticking up like a wildfire, squared googles worn like a headband, thick eyeliner, lips painted in the same shade as his hair. Oh please, please, please let this be a sexy dream. No scars though, curious. Pre timeskip then? His mouth was moving but you still couldn't hear, ah, not quite a completely detailed dream you guessed. Lucid though? Your ability to scan your eyes down at will told you perhaps yes. Ah, there it is, two flesh arms, yup we're going pre timeskip. Just as well, you'd never been keen on the idea of the metal arm touching you; a strong, calloused, fleshy hand would feel far nicer on your body.

You vaguely registered the brief feeling of weightlessness as you were pulled away from the strong thing behind you and slammed back again. The mast perhaps? Ow, that one kinda hurt. I think? Surely not, it's a dream. His mouth was moving again, but this time words were starting to form, the fog of the white noise slowly fading to a more bearable hum.

“-re you doing on my fucking ship?” He barked, flicks of spittle splashing against your face.

You blinked again, hmm, could you talk in this dream? No time like the present to try I guess?

“Tryna get laid?” You coughed, your voice strained from the hand around your throat. Something unrecognisable flashed in his eyes. Anger? Confusion? He leaned back a little to pull something from his bandolier, his grip on your neck loosening for a moment before being replaced by something sharp and cold, metallic perhaps? It was hard to tell from the thin edge.

“Wanna try that one again little mouse?” He gave you a toothy grin, his canines sharp and dangerous, and something about the dark look in his amber eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Fear or lust, you weren't sure, both perhaps? “I'll put it in plain words: What. Are. You. Doing. On. My. Fucking. Ship?”

Hmmm, prisoner turned lover type scenario huh? You'd read more than your fair share of fanfiction, your best bet to getting this sexy dream to go somewhere was act confident, right? What was he gonna do, kill you? It's just a dream anyway. Probably a weird coma dream, given the bus. Oh, maybe you'd be one of those crack medical cases of people who live a whole life in their coma dream. Shout out to your brain for picking this world to live it out in, you wondered if the machines on the outside would beep with a heighted heart rate every time one of these pirates fucked you in the dream. You wiggled your toes to check you were in control, all systems go captain, initiate stage one of ‘badass bitch gets laid’. You swung your legs up and wrapped them around his waist, and his brows, or lack thereof, shot up in surprise.

“Did I stutter, captain?” You purred, “You are the big bad captain of the Kid Pirates, correct? I thought a guy like you would be overjoyed to be presented with a hot, willing lay, or do you prefer to pay for those services?”

Someone coughed out a wheezed laugh, it sounded strained and suppressed. Ah, Killer must be nearby. Well, at least if Kid hated your jokes maybe you could turn your attention to the masked man, he was your favourite afterall.

“So what, you just crashed onto my ship outta butt fuck nowhere, naked as the day you were born, for a quick fuck?” Kid scowled, “How did you get here? Devil fruit?”

“Uh, I think I got hit by a bus actually,” you pondered, able to speak a little easier now that his hand wasn't so tight on your throat, though the metal was still pressed to it, some sort of knife you assumed. “Hang on, did you just say I'm naked?”

“Are you stupid?” Kid squinted. He let you go all of a sudden and you fell to the deck with an unceremonious thump. Ow, that one definitely hurt. “Kil, throw her overboard, if she ain't gonna talk we'll prove for ourselves she has a fruit, fish her out before she drowns too much though, she's interesting. I wanna know how she got here”

You turned to the quiet footsteps of the approaching first mate, in his button up polka dot shirt. Cute. You gave him a sweet smile but he ignored it, scooping you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and absolutely yeeting the shit out of you straight into the drink.

Icy water closed in around you as your body dropped down several metres under the surface at the impact. You felt no exhaustion though, no pull of the deep. Well, at least now you knew there was no devil fruit for you in this dream, too bad, it'd be sick to turn into a big fuck off bear or something. Sighing internally, you swam your way back to the surface, doing your best Little Mermaid impression and flicking your hair back as you broke through to air. Several scowling faces looked down at you from the deck, and you bobbed awkwardly in the gentle waves, staring back up at them. Fuck it was cold, could someone put a blanket over your comatosed ass irl please? Jeez.

“Uh, can someone help me up?” You shouted up to the ship, “I'm not a good climber”. Honestly, you weren't a bad climber, you were just sure this was gonna turn into one of those running but getting nowhere situations if you tried.

Kid let out a tsk and suddenly heavy chains were wrapping around you, enclosing around your neck and nearly hanging you as they pulled you back to deck, dropping you back to the wood with a wheeze.

“That wasn't-” you let out a choked cough, “that wasn't very nice of you. This dream sucks, actually”

“Dream?” Killer asked. Oh god his voice was even better in person. But it sounded more to the pitch of the Japanese voice actor, hang on did that mean you were speaking Japanese? Dreams are weird man.

“Yeah I mean..” you looked up at him, crossing your legs, not bothering to cover your nude body. What did it matter, this was just like one of those giving a presentation in school kinda dreams, but nudity had never bothered you. “I got hit by a bus, so this is just some weird coma dream. Sucks though, usually they're sexy by now. What a disappointment”

“Yeah? You have sex dreams about us often?” Kid smirked.

“You, not so much,” Kid's smirk very quickly turned to a frown and he looked like he was gonna hang you again, “aye, easy big guy, they exist, I just prefer dreaming about Killer or Heat is all”

Someone nearby choked on air, and there was the audible sound of a palm slapping a back and the faint whisper of “get it to-fucking-gether Heat, fuck”

“Anyway, this dream sucks,” you hummed, stretching out your legs, bored, “so either make with the orgy or turn into a face eating demon or some shit so I spook awake, I'm bored.”

Kid rushed towards you, knife still in hand, and you wondered for a split second if he was actually going to do one of the two, before the piercing pain of a knife through your rib cage cut right through that line of thinking. It was searing, white hot like you were being branded from the inside out, you'd broken your arm once but this might have hurt more. Your world stopped for a moment before you let out a blood curdling scream that forced those closest pirates to you to cover their ears, and you gagged and as you looked down at the knife sticking out of you.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” you finally stuttered as your scream settled, your throat sore and strained, pained tears rolling down your cheeks, “that hurts. Oh god, oh god, not a dream, not a fucking dream”

“No fucking shit, dumb cow,” Kid reached for the knife and you smacked his hand away, holding the hilt protectively.

“Don't fucking touch it, asshat” you bit, “oh fuck what if you got something important, just my fucking luck I get fucking isekai'd to the resident ship of the Grandline's biggest fucking asshole and now I'm gonna die again. Twice in one day, that's gotta be a record for sure.” Kid growled and tried to pull the knife with his powers, but once again your hands turned metallic and held the hilt steady. Realisation hit you like a… bus… hmmm, too soon?

“Oh, fuck yeah, HAKI!” you yelled triumphantly, “I always knew I was a strong willed bitch, ha, take that Captain Stupid Pants!”

You lifted a hand to flip him off. Ah, well, you'd never claimed to be smart. Moving your hand halved the strength against his pull, and the dagger shook and yanked itself out from your chest.

“Now who's stupid?” He smirked, dangling the dagger as he squatted in front of you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Okay, admittedly, maybe me,” you would probably laugh if it didn't hurt so damn much. “Hey, what if I make you a deal, I'll uhh… I'll let you freeuse me if you let me live”

“Back at it again with the sex! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Kid yelled.

“A lot, probably,” you sighed, blood pouring freely from between your fingers. You squinted at Kid before reaching forward and yanking his sash off, “gimme that.” Much to his dismay, you pressed the fabric to your wound to slow the bleeding, though the effects of blood loss were quickly becoming apparent. “Cute that you wear each other's colours,” you mumbled drowsily, holding the royal blue sash to your wound, which was quickly turning a dark red as your blood soaked into it. “Whoops, looks like it's your colour now though, Kiddo. Hey, before I die, can someone tell me how Heat's fire breathing works?”

“Really? Minutes to live and that's what you wanna know?” Kid frowned.

“Call me curious,” you gave him a drunk looking smile, “they never explained it in the manga”

“Who the fuck is they?” Kid tilted his head curiously, “and what the fuck is manga?”

“It's like a comic book, boss,” Heat spoke up. Ha, you always had him pegged as a fucking weeb.

Life was quickly draining from you, red spilling out over the wooden deck, your eyelids drooping more with every minute. If this was real, a thought occurred to you. Maybe there was a real reason behind this. Maybe you really were dead, and this was some sort of test to be a guardian angel or some shit. Alternate universe type deal, perhaps all fiction was just flickers of a view into another universe. Deep. Ah, no time to really ponder that thought though. You let go of the sash to grab Kid's arm with a weak, blood drenched hand.

“Don't- don't fight Shanks,” you mumbled, “and don't make an alliance with Apoo or Hawkins. And don't-” your head spun as you tried to push out the most important stuff, “don't let Killer eat the SMILE fruit”

The last thing you saw was a look of confusion on Kid's pale face, before everything spun and once again you were tossed into darkness. But hey, at least you weren't wearing wet socks anymore.

[Next Chapter]

Taglist: @chershire23 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

[postmoe]

more wise x reader smutty content pretty pls 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I was gonna do red rooms Wise but I change my mind and it's dentist Wise now. I will try and get red rooms out though I want to talk about it I just need my brain to do the thing.

gn reader but you are wearing a skirt and panties. (kinda) somnophilia, anaesthetic, non-con, oblivious reader

.

Yandere Dentist Wise who has his favourite patient and can be very strict with them.

He's a very happy dentist most of the time but he knows when you haven't been flossing.

"Just look at these molars! Don't tell me you've been giving up half way? Your premolars aren't looking too great either..."

It's clear you're trying your best, and since Wise is such an affordable dentist, it really urges you to care about your dental health more than you could have ever afforded to before.

First things first: to clean everything up. He takes x-rays, does a general wash, and discusses where to go and what to do from here.

"You... You want to put me to sleep?" You ask on the fourth visit. At first it was going to be a general anaesthetic, but, now he wants to change the whole program.

His large hand gently caresses yours as you sit anxiously in the chair, his smile sincere, "You have absolutely nothing to worry about, (Y/n). It'll be easier for me to do what I need to do, and we can get more done in one session than needing to split it up more than we have to. You trust me, don't you?"

And you do, you really, very do trust Wise. Your mouth has never felt better, the little discomforts you weren't even aware you had were now non-existent.

So you let him do what he needs to do. You turn up to your appointment, you let him get you settled in the chair, mask over your face and having you relax. His thumb gently strokes the curve of your cheekbone as your eyes flutter close and you're finally at his mercy.

Oh, how he treasures this moment. Camera angled, clothes dishevelled, and your chair leaned back so your mouth can readily take his aching cock.

Your throat is so relaxed, you barely make any choking sounds, only little whines here and there that he prays his audio will get - which it will.

His hand encompasses your throat as it bulges with his cock, going so deep and constricting yourself around it. His eyes roll back and he focuses on the way your limp, velvety tongue just lets him jut wetly into you.

He can't come down your throat, not when you're under aesthetic right? No, he won't. He values you too much to risk you dying on his seed, even if that does sound kinda hot to the psychopath.

So he pulls out and shudders as thick, white ropes string over your lashes, nose, lips and over your neck.

Your breathing makes your chest rise, deeper inhales now that he wasn't obstructing you.

Eye half-lidded, he sits on his little wheelychair and comes to your side, puckering your come-stained lips and kissing you with the fervour of a madman.

Fuck, you're absolutely delicious and you have no idea what kind of spell you've put on him.

His cock twitches again and he checks the time. Yes, one more round. He adjusts your chair so that when he sits by your legs, he's able to lift your skirt and dig his nose into your heated panties.

There's a little wet patch forming, only growing when his tongue starts licking you and he sucks on the fabric around your tasty sex, all while his cock is being fisted in his hand.

.

By the time you wake, you're clean and numb enough that you don't suspect anything. Wise tells you he just wants to do one more check before you go, make sure the stitches are still stable inside your mouth.

You think nothing of it, groggily letting his access your open face. His fingers move your tongue around, your cheeks, poking at teeth.

What really causes the blush on his face is the way your throat has nicely bruised from the beating of his cock. He can see right down it and the swelling, purple-hues of the muscle are enough to make him leak in his pants.

He did that. He fucked your mouth so good that now he can visually see the success. He can't help the victorious look he gives to the micro camera in the light above you, sensually dragging his finger over your tongue once more before retreating.

As you fix your clothes, giving extra attention to the weird skew of your skirt, he takes his gloves off and gives you a satisfied smile, "I'll see you in two weeks to remove the stitches! Take care, darling~"

[noirvedette]

Chapter One: The Proposal

Satoru Gojo x Reader. (Royalty AU Series)

Synopsis: Wanting the best for your kingdom, you accept the marriage proposal sent by the Gojo empire to marry the new emperor Satoru Gojo. What you don't know is that he has been yearning for you since he came to know of your existence and is determined to make you reciprocate his affections. How far will he go to earn your love? Warnings: Explicit language, smut, slight angst, acts of violence(not between the main characters), war. Author's Note: Hi! This is my first writing on Tumblr and I hope you love this as much as I loved creating it! Honest feedback would be appreciated! Word Count: 1.1k words

Saying that the proposal was unexpected would be an understatement.

The day began like any other. Your two ladies-in-waiting, Miwa and Nobara, helped you dress, after which you had breakfast with your family in the main dining hall.

Being the firstborn of King Maximillian and Queen Eleanora of the prestigious kingdom Aveloria, your entire life consisted of cultivating you into the Queen that your people could rely on.

And here you were, _____ Amiria, at the bright age of only 22, the heir apparent to the throne, encompassing every quality a young royal should have. Not only did you excel in academics and eloquence, but you also thrived in war planning and wielding a sword. Your parents couldn't be more proud of the person you had grown into as they realized that the kingdom would end up in reliable hands.

There was little you wouldn't do for your kingdom. You loved the people, culture, traditions, and everything that made this land your home. Your citizens loved and cherished you, and it felt right that you did your best to ensure they lived a secure and satisfactory life under your rule.

You were discussing your kingdom's alliances and potential threats of war with your father when your emissary, Kento, stood at the entrance to the room.

"Your Majesties," He bowed in your direction before you beckoned him over. "Princess _____ has received a proposal."

"From who?" Your attention remained on the spread of documents on the table, as proposals were nothing new in your case.

Your pen drops from the previously strong grip of your hand when you hear his response.

"The Gojo Empire."

-

Since you turned eighteen, you had received countless proposals from suitors from kingdoms on the other side of the world.

But this was different. This was the Gojo Empire. The ruler of the largest empire the world had ever seen wanted your hand in marriage. This changed everything.

Now that the initial shock wore off, you sat in the drawing room with your younger brother, Heeseung, discussing the various details of the proposal.

"Satoru Gojo wants your hand in marriage. Interesting." Heeseung seemed to ponder. "This is clearly a move to form an alliance."

"That's a quick conclusion. You don't think he wants to marry me because I'm pretty?" You joked, poking your brother in the ribs.

"No, I don't, sister." He deadpans, causing you to glare at him. "Why would he want to marry a sewer rat?"

"You take that back." You laugh as you launch into a play-fight with your brother. The nineteen-year-old tried to overpower you but ultimately failed as you caught him in a headlock.

"Dearest, let go of your brother." Your mother chuckled as she walked in with your father.

Begrudgingly, you loosen your hold on Heeseung, muttering a quick 'only because Mama said so' before you let him go completely.

"Let's discuss the proposal, shall we?" Your father announced as he took a seat. "_____, what do you think?"

"Obviously, it's very beneficial for us. Being connected to the Gojo Empire means having ties with almost every kingdom in existence." You straighten your spine as you speak. "I think we should accept."

"A union will definitely bring benefits, but that's not what I'm asking, my dear." Your father's eyes soften as he looks at you endearingly. "Do you want this? Marriage is not a simple ordeal."

You take a moment to weigh your options. Love and similar nuances were never of importance to your rational mind. Sure, you read a few romance novels here and there, but that was simply for enjoyment. You never expected to experience love and being loved firsthand. It seemed that wouldn't change. Your kingdom and duties were of utmost importance to you.

"I'm sure, Papa." You sigh as you look at him. "As long as Aveloria is happy, I'm happy. We should accept."

"They have asked us to join them for tea next week." Your mother chimes in. "Shall we send an official reply?"

"Yes." You smile at her. "Let's do it."

-

Satoru Gojo. An emperor. A cold-blooded man on and off the battlefield. Revered by those who love him and feared by those who do not.

An absolute fool for you.

He first saw you at the coronation of his best friend, King Jaeyun, five years ago. He was in the midst of sharing a drink with the newly appointed king when something caught his eye.

Someone, he corrected himself.

There you were, laughing with Jaeyun's sister, Claire, looking absolutely enchanting in your emerald green dress. Your eyes glinted in the sunlight, but your smile was even brighter.

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you turned, making direct eye contact. You smiled at him softly, just for a second, but that's all it took.

Satoru Gojo was a man in love. Not real love, he knew that much. But the array of feelings he felt when beheld by your eyes couldn't be described in any other way.

He had to know who you were.

Later that same evening, he asked Claire to tell him everything she knew about you. She would say it felt more like an interrogation.

_____ Amiria. Heir apparent to the throne of Aveloria. The woman of his dreams.

Since the coronation, he had only run into you once or twice, never making conversation. He thought the lack of interaction would eventually cause him to lose feelings.

How wrong he was.

He did everything he could to forget about you. He spent his time doing his duties and even considered courting other women, but to no avail.

They simply were not you.

Every new detail he received about you from his informants only made him fall deeper. Thoughts of you gripped his mind like a vice, unwilling to let him escape its clutches.

-

Within the Gojo Empire, an unmarried emperor was unheard of. Satoru was the first to break that tradition, facing a small amount of backlash from his people in the process.

As it had become a year since his coronation, he felt ready to look for prospects who could eventually be his wife.

He only had one person in mind. Only one person he truly wanted.

You.

And what the emperor wants, he gets.

-

[dnpbeats]

Hi!

Do you think Dan and phil like cuddling?

I feel like they are more like "our legs are touching during a film, that's enough for us to be happy," but idk!

Also, what love language do you think they have?

💕

i do think they like cuddling :3 partially based on things they've said and partially bc of how they act!!

(I guess this technically doesn't necessitate cuddling but like lbr dan is a giant idk how he could share a bed with someone and not end up physically close to them 😭)

-phil saying he's a tactile person

-phil ranking dan's sweaters based on how soft they looked/how comfy he thought it would be to hug them

-the fact that they are ALWAYS sitting closer to each other than necessary, see wdapteo 2 for one of many examples, also like all the goofy pics of dan that phil has posted are all from the perspective of someone sitting v close!

-all the pics of phil cuddling pillows + him snuggling the seal

there are a couple other random things and also im sure it's a question they've been asked on vyou/younow/etc but I don't have the patience to go hunt more things down lol everything I listed is just off the top of my head. but anyway im sorry to disagree but im a firm believer that d&p are in each other's laps whenever possible 😌

in terms of love languages idk i feel like if u asked dan he would rant for five minutes about how his and phil's love is so revolutionary it transcends normal barriers and they just encompass every way of loving ever and yk what. he would be right

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me (part 7)- Matt Sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), dark themes, death, smut (not in this part)

i wake up, pain etched in every fiber of my being. i rip off my covers to find my stomach with three gaping, bleeding stab wounds. I try to scream but no sound comes out. Hands reach me and i faintly hear nicks voice in my ear before i black out.

i come back to my senses again, with the same pain in my abdomen but my surrondings are different. theres trees and grass everywhere. i crane my head to the side to see matt laying there, and panic rushes through me when I see his wounds. wounds that exactly mirrored mine. “matt” i whimper, i fight through my pain to reach him. i shake him until his eyes flutter open weakly. his skin is paling from blood loss and i grab at the wound on his skin to try to stop the blood flow. “what happened?” i ask feeling nicks presense behind me. even though my eyes were on matt, the question was directed towards him.

“he got stabbed by spell bound knife by some random guy who clearly has a some kind of vendetta against us.” he pauses and i can hear him sniffling. “i just hope he's going to be okay, I've never seen a vampire bleed like this." his voice breaks and he tries to take a stabilizing breathe. "madi will be here soon” he says more to himself than to me.

I couldn't even respond to what nick was saying as my vision starts to blur. i grip matts wound tighter in hopes that he won't feel the way I do now. “you have to take care of yourself too” matt says weakly while peering at my equally grotesque wound. I look into his eyes and a fresh wave of pain comes over me but in this moment it's just us. everything else stops. “I can’t live without you matt.” I whisper, tears falling down my face. "so what's the point?", I sigh. even though the statement was supposed to be a reminder of the one of the conditions of the mating bond that still applies , it sounded more like a confession of some sort. like I didn't want to live without him. a surge of pleasure and a warm feeling passes through me that I don't recognize as my own. matt's eyes are clouded when he looks at me and i can tell he can feel my sadness and fear. we can feel each others emotions which can only mean one thing. “i think our spell broke” I whisper. matt smiles softly at this before his head falls limp and his eyes shut again. I panic and try to slap his face gently to wake him up. I turn to nick who is already heading our way, eyes widened with fear.

when nick reaches matt he grabs him and shakes him hard so hard my grip on his wound almost slips. “matt, matt, no, matt, you have to stay awake! you can do this!" hes shouts as he tries to get closer to matt. he presses into me to do so and my body reels in protest at the added pressure. I feel him shaking with adrenaline and fear. “madi’s almost here matt come on!” fear for matt and my own excoriating pain continues to encompass me but i can no longer keep my eyes open. i fall into nicks side, blacking out for the second time tonight.

———————————————————————————

“got there just in time, your lucky” a voice I recognize as Madi's speaks up. once again, my surroundings are completely different and I am in a unfamiliar bedroom I can only assume is Madi's. "didn't even know there were spells you could put on weapons, let alone ones that are strong enough to kill vampires." matt mutters and you shutter at the sound of his voice. the mating bond feels even stronger than before you had come to Madi's. you open your eyes in search for your mate, and your body becomes desperate when you see him. you go to get up, but your stomach screams in protest. matt is by your side in a flash coaxing you back down into the bed gently.

"slow down! shit, that hurt me!" he says. you stare at his all too attractive face and feel warm all over. "I was so worried, I'm glad you're okay." you whisper. His eyes mirror the warmth you felt and he offers you a gentle smile. "yeah kid, I could say the same. Madi got there just in time, healing potions in hand. they were strong, but not strong enough to heal your wound completely." he says to me quietly. once again his voice compels me to get closer and feel his touch. to feel him.

"did the spell break?" Madi ask inquisitively while walking over to your bedside slowly. I break out of my trance to answer her "yeah I guess you could say that" I laugh a little at the odds, all this supernatural stuff still sounds so weird to me. "must have been the near death experience." matt finishes.

"no. that's not how it works." Madi says matter of factly. "okay, well did you do the spell wrong or what?" matt snips and I chuckle. matt hates not being in the know and he has no idea what's going on at all times. "control freak" I think to myself.

"nooo, I did it right" she responds smiling at his annoyance "one -or both- of you fuckers feels different then you did before. THAT is why the spell broke." she says looking from you to matt in amusement. "what do you mean "different"?" I ask genuinely curious. matt must be thinking the same thing because his eyebrows are furrowed. its like matts way of saying "what the fuck is going on" without actually saying it.

"what I mean is" Madi pauses which adds a dramatic effect.

"someone is in loveee." she practically sings in happiness.

silence ensues after that. matt looks at me and I look at matt. we both blink before turning back to Madi and shaking our heads at her. but even as I do so, I try to think deeper.

I did think about him a lot, as of the past few days, he's been on my mind all the time, even with the side effects of the bond dormant. he makes me feel so many things, and he makes me lose my composure. composure that I work so hard to maintain. worst of all, I know for a fact I've shown him sides of me that I've never shown anyone, a vulnerable softer side. A side of me that cries and wants to be comforted. a side I vowed to never show anyone, but with matt, it came out whether I wanted it to or not.

maybe, I am in love with matt. maybe, I am just too afraid to admit it.

Madi looks at me with knowing eyes and I hear her voice in my head. "it's okay, y/n. it's safe for you to love him. he's your mate after all" she winks. "heyyy, I didn't know you could talk telepathically!" I say with a big smile on my face. smiling because I had a new friend, and smiling because she is right. we may not always get along but Matt's always been safe. he's shown me that over and over the past two days, he protects and comforts me without second thought. "yup its a new trick I learned" she responds mirroring my smile.

" you said something to her in her head?" matt looks at her then shifts his eyes to me, waiting for me to give him the details. I know that he wants to know but I want to keep my little secret a secret for now. at least until I find the right way to say it, so I stay silent. "well what the fuck did she say to you??" matt says, taking your silence as me not realizing he was waiting for me to tell him. me and Madi just look at each other and burst out laughing at his annoyance. "um, hello!" he speaks over our laughter and we laugh even harder.

"okay, whatever." he scoffs. "I still don't get it, why does someone's feelings changing affect the spell you cast?"

"because mating bonds are strong in and of themselves. the spell I cast was just strong enough to condense it. but anytime feelings grow, the mating bond grows stronger as well. wether its just one or both of you who caught real feelings, it affected the bond. so of course, the spell broke as it could no longer contain it. you guys are on your own now, there's nothing I can do for you anymore." at the last part matt groans in frustration, "fuck" he growls. my heart pangs at the rejection but I try to ignore it. Madi just frowns at him before speaking again. "mating bonds are natural, matt. I tried to help you before because your my friend but its over now. its time to get serious, stop feeling sorry for yourself." she scolds turning around to leave the room, but she stops once she reaches the doorway.

"and matt, you know what's going to happen next. take her home and take care of her. " she says to him over her shoulder with intensity. fear runs down my spine. what's going to happen to me I think to myself as I stare at Madi's retreating form. matts in my vision now and he picks me up from off the bed. " I already know your going to ask what's going to happen now so I'm just going to tell you" he licks his lips and looks down at me. "after the mating bonds been present for 3 days" he pauses as he tries to find the right words. "the woman goes into heat" my mouth flies open in shock. is this is why he wanted to get rid of the mating bond as soon as possible?? what does it even feel like to be "in heat". a million questions ran through my head, as he says what I already knew next.

"which means your gonna be in heat any minute now, y/n." his eyes cloud with lust.

"and I'm gonna be the one that gets you through it."

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

@I34n

@chriwssv4amp

@sturnslimited 

@minhlajenni

[revasserium]

oh don't ask me for requests, you know I deliver. What about Zoro with number 30?

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

30. invention of the dictionary

opla!zoro; 882 words; fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, strawhat!reader, gn!reader, no "y/n", unconventional format, whipped!zoro

summary: truth, love, still, and stolen

a/n: been a while since i've written something so chill but i rly like this one u__u nice, short, and sweet!

He has never been a man of many words, but meeting you has made him wonder about the exact reason dictionaries were invented. What scholar (for it must have been a scholar, Zoro thinks) could have amassed such a knowledge of words and meanings that they decided the only way to keep track was to write it down? Or perhaps it was simply someone in love — someone who felt too much and yearned too hard and never had the words big enough or heavy enough, wide enough or deep enough, to fully encompass the way they were feeling.

Because he’s never been a man of many words, but meeting you has him reaching for the tattered dictionary they’d found in a treasure chest, washed ashore on a small, insignificant island — not unlike you. You with your windswept hair and your skin smelling of salt and cream and a thousand midnight mysteries. You, and the way your eyes hold worlds that Zoro’s certain he’d never have the privilege of seeing.

But sometimes when he kisses you, he thinks he can taste the remnants of their exotic fruits beneath the sweet of your tongue, and sometimes when you kiss him back hard enough, he can feel it in the crescent moon marks you leave inked into his skin. Like dotted lines on a treasure map.

You’d been a traveling bounty-hunter, not so unlike who he’d been in a past life, one that he can barely even remember. And your laughter had been just the right shade of lost for Luffy to take notice. No one had thought twice about it after that — and you blended in with the crew as a shot of rum in a morning espresso — which is to say perfectly.

He finds himself flipping through the thin, water-warped pages of the dictionary, pausing on words he’d always thought he knew — words like truth, and love. Words like still, and stolen.

And so, here are some words that Roronoa Zoro has learned and re-learned the meanings of. All because of you.

truth noun.

the quality or state of being true

a fact or belief that is accepted as true

a thing so fundamental that it never has to be questioned — like the rising of the sun in the east or the setting of the moon in the west; something that pulses with the very rhythm of the universe, like the ebb and flow of the tides or the way that autumn always feels a little bit like goodbye — or how birdsong will inevitably be followed by the sprouting of spring, and how March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, and how Zoro’s never questioned just how much he’s loved you, or even whether or not he’d fallen in love. He simply woke up one day and knew.

love noun.

an intense feeling of deep affection

a great interest or pleasure in something

you, your smile, the way you hold your chopsticks, how you press your hand to your stomach when you laugh, the way your lips feel as they trail along Zoro’s jawline, the way your heartbeat rhymes with the gentle rush of the sea

verb.

to feel deep affection for someone or something

to like or enjoy very much

to dream of a life with you, and all the things you might do — to lie awake at night counting your breaths as you fall asleep next to him, to press his lips into the seam of your hair and know that when he wakes up in the morning, you’ll still be right there next to him

still noun/adj./verb

not moving or making a sound

deep silence or calmness

to make or become still

the way the world feels the first time you cry, how the planets themselves seem to grind to a deadly halt, how Zoro’s world tilts on the axis of you and doesn’t stop until he wonders if everything around him is upside down and inside out — how you curl into yourself when the monsters in your past become more than shadows and whispers that creep in the dark, or when the darkness comes knocking and you bury your face in his shoulder, your voice a whisper as you beg — please… help me.

adverb

up to and including the present time mentioned

nevertheless; all the same

how he knows he loves you, the way that the sea loves the sky — even after a devastating rainstorm; how there’s blood on his swords, blood soaking through the wooden planks but he’s got you in his arms so it’s going to be alright; how you let him carry you and hold you close; how he lets you carry him as well; how the pair of you curve around each other like a parenthetical, two bookends to a library of memories stored in the negative space between you; how you are with each other after all of this, still.

stolen verb (*past participle of steal)

take without permission or legal right, without the intent to return

move somewhere quietly or surreptitiously

his heart, his mind, his body, his soul — and him with you.

[jintaka-hane]

Want You Bad

Pt. 1 Right For The Job

Masterlist

Pairing: benn beckman x!reader Summary: Starting a new job is always a challenge, especially when one of your bosses seems aloof and distant with you. What's wrong with him? Is there anything you can do to earn his trust? The story of how Benn Beckman struggles to control his attraction to you onboard. Word count: 1800 Notes: Why do I continue writing about this gentleman? Because I can't stop. This is part 1 of probably... 4. Warnings: forbidden love, oblivious to love, friends to lovers.

"Not bad," you thought, quite pleased with yourself, your eyes darting from one man to the other, trying to decipher what they were thinking.

You had just completed one of the most demanding job interviews of your life, and both the questioning and the practical test had gone rather well.

The rigorous testing and skills demonstration had encompassed various aspects aimed at evaluating your proficiency in maritime knowledge and practical abilities. This included boat handling –from small to medium-sized vessels–, understanding meteorological phenomena and their effects on sea currents, recognizing wind patterns, and managing crisis protocols at sea.

In record time and with a stopwatch in hand, you were required to display your ability to tie various maritime knots, adjust ropes, furl sails, and climb the rigging.

Questions regarding survival techniques and military medicine were also asked, inquiring about first aid procedures: cleaning wounds, disinfecting, stitching up, applying creams to burns and explosion wounds… The interviewers even asked you to apply a tourniquet to one of them.

When it came to social skills, you demonstrated that you were good at connecting with people and working in teams. You had a good sense of humor, and you were loyal if you felt your team was working for a just cause.

And lastly, you showcased your specialty: making precise shots at considerable distances. You adeptly handled various firearms, with your favorite being the revolver for its lightness and practicality. While you were somewhat less enthusiastic about swords, daggers, and other bladed weapons, you could still wield them proficiently when required. You were tasked with shooting at ten different targets, and you effortlessly hit them all without difficulty.

You had, in a manner of speaking, nailed it.

All that remained was for the two men who had interviewed you to deliberate and decide whether you would become part of the red-haired crew, or if, on the contrary, you would have to continue looking for work on other vessels docked at the pier. 

"Thanks, Y/n. Just give us a sec to discuss it, okay?," the captain said, escorting you to the door of the cabin. 

You stepped out onto the deck and settled on a bench, eagerly awaiting a response. To make the wait more entertaining, you retrieved your revolver from its holster and began to clean the gunpowder that was on it. 

The voices of the two men could faintly be heard by the door, but you couldn't quite make out what they were saying. It seemed that if they had to discuss it, one of them was in favor of you being suitable for the job, while the other was not. You could imagine who was who... as during the interview, the captain seemed enthusiastic, while the first mate remained serious and cautious. You just hoped they would reach an agreement soon.

"Well, what do you think? Shall we keep her?" asked the red-haired captain, reclining in his chair and casually placing both feet on the table.

"Not sure, Shanks..." responded the first mate with a somewhat concerned expression.

"Why not? She aced all the tests, she's perfect. Fits right in. It's a yes from me."

"Not sure..." Beckman began to pace slowly around the room, hands behind his back, deep in thought.

"What's bothering you? That she's the only woman on board? I don't think it'll be a problem for the lads, they'll know how to behave... We just gotta lay down some ground rules, and everything will stay in order," Shanks remarked.

"The third shot was almost a miss..." Beckman stopped right in front of the table where Shanks was sitting and looked him straight in the eye.

Shanks lowered his feet, sat up in his chair, and leaned towards his friend, resting his arm on the table. "The third one... and almost... in a job interview where she was probably nervous. Come on Beck, she's one hell of a sniper, Yassop will love her."

Beckman maintained eye contact with his captain, struggling to conjure any objections against hiring the woman. After some pondering, not a single negative argument came to his mind that he dared to voice aloud. The woman was exceptional, and who was he to fight against his captain's eagerness? He let out a resigned sigh.

"Is that a yes?" Shanks' smile grew so wide it almost took up his entire face.

"A’right," he conceded, crossing his arms. 

"Settled then!" Shanks said happily, hitting the table with the palm of his hand. "Let her know. Ask her to pack up and get settled on the ship today”. He rose to his feet and retrieved the cloak hanging over the back of the chair. “I'll talk to the crew to inform the lads”.

“Aye”.

Beckman stepped out onto the deck and found you sitting on the bench, still cleaning your revolver as you waited. Upon seeing him, you immediately holstered the gun and stood up, facing each other. 

An awkward silence hung between you.

With an scrutinizing glance, he studied you, slowly withdrawing a pack of cigarettes from one of his pockets and extracting one. He tapped it against the packet several times, as though he intended to compact the tobacco inside. 

His presence was imposing. You observed his rifle snugly secured to his sash, its stock pointing upward and aimed towards the ground. With just a quick glance, you could tell it was a good gun, and you wondered if he would ever let you shoot it.

He cleared his throat, and your attention snapped back to his eyes.

"The captain wants you to settle on the ship today," he said, calmly placing the cigarette in his lips after speaking.

"YES!" You jumped and clasped your hands together in excitement before immediately realizing your lack of professionalism. "...I mean... thank you!" Your smile was broad.

He withdrew a match and struck it, the flame flickering to life. With a practiced hand, he brought it to the cigarette, shielding the flame from the wind to prevent it from extinguishing. For a moment, you considered lifting your own hand to assist him. 

"Go fetch yer things; we'll set sail by mid-afternoon," he added, taking a deep drag.

You already had all your belongings waiting at home. Being a natural optimist, and fairly confident that you would impress them with your skills, you had packed your bags in case they set sail that same day. Your luggage wasn't many, nor were they numerous, as your possessions were scarce being a practical woman who liked to constantly change places to discover new horizons. A bit of practical clothing to allow you to move with agility, some slightly more formal dresses for special occasions, the two or three books you liked the most, and the heaviest to carry: your set of firearms.

"Alright, see you in a bit!" Turning around gracefully, you hurried down the gangway to disembark from the ship.

“Don't be late”, he ordered, exhaling the smoke slowly.

“I won't!”, you shouted without a backward glance.

He watched you sprint down the gangway and leap onto solid ground. You began to run along the pier and, for a moment, you stopped and turned around to see the magnificent galleon from afar. The ropes meticulously fastened, the wood clean and varnished, the cannons stowed yet poised for any confrontation; and the sails, proudly displaying the fierce image of the skull with red stripes crossing its left eye socket. You couldn't help but smile, unable to contain your happiness.

Your new home. 

The enthusiasm on your face gave you an air of innocence that could melt even the most cold-hearted man, Beckman thought, as he rested his arms on the ship's railing, watching as you drifted further away from the ship.

You were enchanting ...

Too enchanting ...

Too enchanting for him ...

And that 's what had made him hesitate. 

His foremost duty as first mate was to ensure the safety of everyone aboard, a task demanding a steady hand and a clear mind in challenging situations that could arise at sea. And he excelled at it, remaining physically and mentally composed when precision and concentration were required. He had a knack for focusing without being sidetracked and that's why Shanks and the rest of the crew relied on him.

Yet, during the interview, his concentration had wavered, his attention captured by every movement you made, captivated by the curve of your shoulders and the line of your neck as you aimed your revolver, resolute in hitting the target. Despite his extensive experience with women, he had never encountered one who, with just a single glance, could distract him so completely.

And that was a problem.

You would be a distraction.

You would be his distraction

But that wasn't reason enough to reject your application; it was his problem, not yours, and under no circumstances would he tell Shanks the truth behind his reluctant behavior, as it would only result in him laughing in his face. It was clear that you were an incredible woman, skilled in various nautical arts and prepared for combat… it was just right to accept that you were perfect for the job.

He should only maintain his professionalism and control his emotions while working with you, and perhaps ... perhaps as the days unfolded aboard, this attraction he felt for you would fade away. You would be like a challenge to him.

Shaking his head, he headed to the upper bowcastle where Shanks was delivering a speech to the men.

"Damn, if we'd crossed paths in a village tavern where I could've let loose, things would have been mighty different," he mused.  He would have scrutinized your expertise in a field entirely different from the one you had been interviewed about, with a mattress serving as the stage for the trials.

Upon reaching the spot where the men gathered, Shanks paused and glanced at him, nodding slightly as an indication for him to come up and stand beside him. Stepping among the crew, he climbed the stairs and positioned himself next to Shanks, putting his hands on his pockets as he surveyed the men.

"... and that's why nobody's, and I mean nobody, is gonna get all lovestruck over her or lay a finger on her...”

Beckman rolled his neck to loosen the muscles and relieve some tension.

“... No peeking, no hitting on her, and definitely no making her feel weird; we'll treat her with respect and keep our mitts off her, got it?"

The men buzzed with excitement at the prospect of a new shipmate. It had been ages since they'd welcomed fresh faces aboard, and they were ready to seize any excuse for a celebration. Beckman observed the scene, inhaling and exhaling smoke from his lungs with a feigned calmness.

“Hey Yassop, looks like they've got you an intern!", Roux said, giving his friend a playful slap on the back.

“I hope she can handle her booze!”

Limejuice shook his head. “Ah, yeah, that is a must, not like the last one...”.

The breeze started to softly sway the rigging, indicating that the afternoon would be favorable for sailing just as they had anticipated.

“Get ready lads! We set sail in the afternoon!”

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

Tag list: @i-am-vita @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 in case you're interested!

[hereternalsins]

One day, I won't love you anymore.

- rose ( herdivinemuse via instagram)

Five years of memories. Two years of silence. And now, three months of trying to rebuild what was broken, only to find that some cracks run deeper than time can heal.

She watches him across their favorite café—the same one where they used to spend Sunday mornings years ago. His coffee order hasn't changed: black, no sugar. But something else has. The way he holds himself, perhaps, or the careful distance in his eyes even when he smiles.

"Do you know?" she begins, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. "In these five years, you've always been perfect and irreplaceable in my heart. But if we continue like this, I feel that... one day, I won't love you anymore."

The words hang between them like frost on a window pane—beautiful in their honesty, terrible in their implications. She watches them land, sees him flinch slightly, the way he always does when truth cuts too close to bone.

They'd thought it would be easier the second time around. After all, they knew each other's stories, could map each other's scars. The muscle memory of loving each other remained intact through those two years apart—the way he still reaches to brush her hair back when she's tired, how she automatically orders extra pickles for his burgers.

But with the familiar rhythms came the old ghosts. His tendency to retreat into silence when troubled. Her habit of expecting him to read her mind. The same misunderstandings that drove them apart the first time now hover at the edges of their reconciliation, waiting to reclaim their territory.

They'd spent those two years apart growing, changing, becoming better versions of themselves. She'd learned to voice her needs instead of hoping they'd be noticed. He'd worked on expressing his emotions instead of bottling them up. But somehow, together, they keep slipping back into their old roles—like actors who know their lines too well to play them differently.

"I still find your coffee cups in my apartment," he says quietly. "From before. I never could bring myself to throw them away."

She nods, understanding the weight of small things kept. She too has a box of memories she couldn't discard—movie tickets, dried flowers, photographs where their smiles still held certainty.

"Maybe that's our problem," she replies. "We're trying to fit new people into an old story."

The truth is, loving him has never been the problem. It's the easiest thing she's ever done, as natural as breathing. But loving someone and being able to build a life with them are different things. The past two years taught her that. They both learned it, separately, in their own ways.

"I don't want to lose you again," he says, reaching across the table. His fingers stop just short of hers, a gesture that encompasses everything wrong with their situation—always almost touching, almost understanding, almost getting it right.

"We're not the same people who fell in love five years ago," she tells him. "And we're not the same people who broke up two years ago either. Maybe we need to stop trying to be."

The afternoon light slants through the café windows, casting long shadows across their table. Outside, the city moves in its endless rhythm, indifferent to the small apocalypse happening over cooling coffee cups.

"Then who are we?" he asks, and there's something like hope in his voice—fragile but present.

She looks at him, really looks at him, seeing both the man she fell in love with and the stranger he's become. "Maybe that's what we need to find out," she says. "Not who we were, or who we think we should be, but who we are now."

The silence that follows feels different from their usual ones—not heavy with unspoken words, but open, waiting. Like a blank page rather than a closed book.

"I meant what I said," she continues softly. "You've been perfect and irreplaceable in my heart. But perfect isn't what I need anymore. I need real. I need now. I need us to stop haunting each other with who we used to be."

He nods slowly, and for the first time in months, his smile reaches his eyes. "Then maybe we should start over," he suggests. "Not from five years ago, or from two years ago, but from right here."

She feels something shift in her chest—not the familiar ache of old love, but something newer, something that tastes like possibility. "Hi," she says, extending her hand across the table. "I'm still learning who I am. Would you like to figure it out together?"

This time, when he reaches for her hand, he doesn't stop short.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

What if Loren arrived with this kind of beautiful fairy like baby doll lingerie situation. She looks like an ethereal being.

https://www.wonder18.com/en-qa/products/kaia-white-cami

They just have a night filled with love making. They probably reached their peak at least 3 times.

Maybe it’s provoked by the fact that William is not feeling his best. He also has been on a road trip and needs some Loren time. He realizes how deeply infatuated he’s with her. He’s also reminded of how great she is with kids and can’t help but think of putting a baby in her. There’s just a lot of emotions going on. It’s sensual yet filled with pure emotion.

Oh my gosh, Nonnie. What you sparked in my brain. I don't know whether to apologize or what - after I wrote nearly 6k words based off this idea of yours. It tied into another smaller idea I had so I just went with it. Thank you to you and the other anons that reach out with ideas and comments. For anyone that has sent me something (there's a couple in my Inbox), please know - I am not ignoring you. Each one means so much that I do tend to think on it for awhile to visualize all the different possibilities based on the ask.

So here's my triple-length blurb, Nonnie....I hope you like it. Warnings - 18+ below the cut. Smut (p in v, fingering, slight praise), profanity.

One Woman, A Thousand Ways - Lingerie

Word count - approx 5.9k

William stared out the window of the team bus as it traveled along the quiet streets of Raleigh. The somber atmosphere mirrored his mood, the team still reeling from their crushing loss to Carolina. He absently swiped his thumb across his phone screen, debating for the hundredth time whether or not to message her.

It wasn’t just the loss gnawing at him—it was everything. His performance hadn’t been optimal, his attitude on the ice often appeared disinterested, and he knew it - he could feel it. But it wasn’t just hockey weighing him down. He hadn’t seen Loren in over a week, not since she left his condo in the days before this road trip. And it hadn’t been the kind of goodbye they were accustomed to.

Things had been off with William here and there - whether it was the hangover from the holidays or just not feeling like himself, his game had been struggling. His mood had darkened, snappier than usual, leaving him isolated at times, even from Loren. Always trying to be intuitive, she had tread lightly during that time, careful not to hover or push him when he was clearly on edge. She had made herself available when he wanted her there, never once complaining about his cold moods.

Looking back, he grimaced at the thought of how he’d taken her patience for granted.

The memory of their last exchange resurfaced as he rubbed his weary eyes, leaning his head back against the seat. Loren had been calm, collected even, as she always was, but he’d been too wrapped up in his frustrations to appreciate how much effort she put into keeping things harmonious. He hadn’t meant to snap at her; she was just in the line of fire. He’d been irritable and short all night, muttering under his breath about something he’d seen online - there was discourse already about his “slump”.

When Loren, in her usual gentle way, tried to soothe him, he’d lashed out. "You just don’t get it, Loren," he’d snapped, his voice sharp enough to make her flinch. "You can’t begin to understand what it’s like to deal with this kind of fucking pressure."

He’d known it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth. Loren’s expression didn’t waver, but the way she looked at him—remaining steady, her cheeks suddenly flushed—made him feel so small. Her reply was measured, delivered in a tone so even it made his stomach twist.

"You’re absolutely right, William," she said. "I wouldn’t know that kind of pressure. I’m only familiar with the pressures of the population who has to carefully decide whether to pay their utilities or put food on the table. Your pressure encompasses the fact you are paid a lot of money, and given many privileges, to perform well."

Her words were spoken without harshness - he could hear that she was hurt, but yet he could not formulate a response, acknowledgement, or an apology.

Loren glanced at her watch and saw it was nearing time for her to leave. This was not the goodbye she had envisioned before her own road trip, so to speak.

Another modelling opportunity had landed in her lap, thanks to her friend Chelsea steering her clients towards Loren for smaller marketing campaigns. Despite Loren’s reservations - a “mature model” was not what she had pictured for herself - she really enjoyed the experience once underway. The big difference with this opportunity is it required for her to travel to Miami, something that William had initially been very excited about for her. William was always supportive and encouraging if it was something she could swing with her schedule. Selfishly, he loved seeing the end result of Loren gracing various online platforms - his insides brimming with pride for her.

But for days, he’d been so disengaged, lately so wrapped up in himself, that he’d forgotten entirely. Loren hesitated for a moment, waiting for a ‘good luck’ or something supportive, but the words never came.

She kissed the dogs and then pressed her lips against William’s cheek. She picked up her bag, shouldering it effortlessly, and walked to the door.

Pausing in the doorway, she turned back to him, deciding to leave him with a gentle reminder.

"Your world is full of choices most people can only dream of, William," she added. "You’re in control—just play the game as you’ve been coached and shoot the fucking puck."

And then she was gone.

Their communication had been limited during his road trip, and he assumed she was giving him space. He’d been busy too, swept up in the events of the “Mentors Trip,” with a close friend tagging along and the team’s schedule packed tight.

It wasn’t until he received a message from his sister saying how amazing Loren looked, with no additional context, when he realized he had totally forgotten about her trip south. With his stomach doing somersaults, he hurriedly scrolled through Instagram.

She’d looked stunning in the few posts Chelsea had tagged Loren's new account in—a mix of candid shots and professional ones—but William couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach. It hadn’t registered with him where she was going when she had left his place - he assumed she had gone home or was at work. The fact he had not breathed any kind words her way, even in the days before she departed, made his heart hurt. She had tip-toed around his ego, trying to be optimistic, and the best he could do is bite her head off. You really are a prick sometimes he thought to himself.

Now armed with the new realization, he opened their text thread, hesitating only a moment before typing:

Förlåt mig, min älskling - I know I fucked up. Before I get back could you come down? Not sure if you are home even. Can u msg me back to let me know. I feel so bad.

The message felt desperate, but he didn’t care. He hit send before tucking his phone into his jacket pocket as the bus pulled up to the airport.

It wasn’t long before his phone vibrated, as he stood to disembark from the coach. He sighed with relief - it was her. I’m glad you’re on your way. I’ll see you soon.

He responded with another apology and told her he loved her.

It was nearly 3:30 a.m. when William, with Pablo and Banksy in tow, entered his condo. He set down his garment bag by the door and dropped his keys into the dish by the entrance. He glanced at the dogs, hearing the tapping of their claws across the floor as they ran toward his bedroom. He guessed they were already on the bed by now, pressing their noses against Loren’s face. Sure enough, he heard her soft, sleepy voice greeting them, and he couldn’t help but smile.

He was about to smother her with his own brand of affection, but his attention was immediately drawn to the dining table, where a basket full of holistic skin and hair products sat neatly arranged. The plain but attractive bottles bore labels he didn’t recognize, but that didn’t matter—he already knew if they came from her, he would love them.

He sighed. She was always thinking, always making an effort, keeping an eye out for something just for him. Loren had a perfect record when it came to gifts, thoughtful in ways that left him humbled. She never wanted anything in return—other than his arms around her and his chest to nuzzle into. He could hardly wait to give her exactly that.

He opened one of the bottles, its simple label noting "Aphrodisiac Oil," and sniffed the contents. He was immediately struck by its unique fragrance, his eyebrows lifting when he read the instructions. Gently, he placed it back in the basket and smirked, knowing exactly what Loren had in mind for their day tomorrow.

When William padded into his bedroom, the expression on his face lit up seeing her in bed. Loren lay on her side, her back toward him, facing where he’d be laying momentarily, as she cooed sweet words to the dogs. In turn, they pressed close against her, almost sensing she had traveled further than normal, reveling in her gentle rubs. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her freshly tanned skin, making her look as radiant as ever.

Loren shifted her body while remaining under the covers, to turn and face William. Their eyes locked as they smiled at each other.

“How is it that you look even more gorgeous every time I see you? Do you drink from a magic fountain or something? Have a fairy godmother that sings a song and you magically replenish?” Loren grinned.

William laughed as his heart soared with her words. He approached the edge of the bed, and leaned over, bringing his face close to hers, before kissing her softly. “The same could be said about you, you know.”

Loren ran her hand along his cheek, moving her lips toward his ear as she spoke softly. “You don’t have your glasses on—my wrinkles are getting worse… I’m in a whole other decade than you right now, and it shows.”

Her words, playful and teasing, triggered something in William’s memory. Loren mentioning her age—a gap of less than two years between them—brought him back to her milestone birthday in December. Her 30th birthday had fallen during an eastern road trip, and he hadn’t been able to physically be there to celebrate with her. Adding to the chaos of their lives were scheduled road games, team parties and other events leading up to Christmas. His place sometimes seemed busier that Union Station itself.

When he returned home, he celebrated her birthday exactly the way she wanted to. A small get together at William’s, just some take-out, a few drinks, and then him later on. William had other gifts for Loren, but this one had slipped his mind. He’d tucked it away, intending to surprise her when things calmed down, but it had been completely forgotten since.

The gift was intended for bedroom purposes only, and given they would be completely alone until dinnertime the next day, he could hardly wait for her to open it.

After finishing up in the washroom, William climbed into bed, pulled a half-sleeping Loren into him, and patted the mattress for the dogs to come lay closer. Loren’s hands lightly smoothed across his back, while her mouth planted tiny kisses on his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Loren - I was such a dick to you,” William murmured against her hair.

He felt her smile against his skin. “You can’t be perfect all the time,” she sighed. “I’m sorry if I sounded harsh, and I hated leaving but I had to go,” she added softly.

William nodded, his lips lingering against her forehead. “I know—well, now I do. But this was all me—I didn’t mean to take it out on you. What you said, though, about the kind of pressure you’re used to…” His voice trailed off. “That stuck with me. I must have sounded like such a whiny—”

“No, don’t even go there,” she gently interrupted, her voice warm but firm. “William, I didn’t mean to… well, maybe in the moment I did. But I’m not trying to diminish what it’s taken, and what it takes, to be you every day. I’m sorry if I made you feel like shit—but you finally got me to snap,” she chuckled, nuzzling into his chest hair.

“That’s you snapping? Actually, I gotta say… when I know you’re upset and you keep calm like that? Holy fuck. That worried me more than if you went around screaming and yelling,” William chuckled softly.

She smiled against his chest. “I actually used to be the yelling type—like being pushed and poked until I finally lost it. I didn’t like being that way… that’s not how my parents are, but a certain someone would just keep pressing until I exploded.” Her voice softened, her words slowing as a yawn escaped. “It’s a little late for a full demonstration, but if you really want to see it, pick a fight with me while I’m hormonal and see which version is scarier.”

William laughed quietly, smoothing her hair away from her shoulders, his fingers tracing circles in its place. “I bet you’re hot when you’re really angry… but I’ll pass for now.”

As he stretched back to turn off the light, Loren’s hands ran down his chest, savoring the softness of his body hair. It always caused a stirring between her legs, no matter how tired she was.

Save for the constant flow of traffic on the streets outside his windows, a blanket of calm and quiet surrounded them. After a loving kiss and soft “goodnights,” they drifted off quickly, wrapped in each other.

Because it was Pablo and Banksy’s world, and William just lived in it, the boys decided it was time for their morning walk earlier than anyone wanted. William groggily slid out of bed, rubbing his eyes and stretching as he padded wearily to the washroom. He reentered the bedroom to find Loren awake and starting to get dressed.

“Whoa—wait… you’re not leaving, are you?” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep, his expression slightly confused.

Loren, just as confused as William, slowed her movements and turned to him with a smile. “I was planning on going with you—y’know, do like we normally do… while everyone’s watching you, you’re watching—”

“Your ass, ten steps ahead of me,” he finished, grinning.

Loren, now in just a sports bra and leggings, sauntered up to him, her arms circling around his neck. She tilted her head slightly, biting her lip as she gave him “the doe eyes”. “But watching my ass is not what Sir wants this morning?”

If ever there was an invitation from Loren to William for him to grab her ass and pull her against his dissipating morning erection, it was that innocent-sounding question with a much naughtier subtext.

William suddenly remembered the gift—her ass in the gift wasn’t going to be just a morning preoccupation. It was going to be an all-day event. “Hold up—hold that thought…” He kissed her briefly before slipping into his closet. Within seconds, he returned with a beautifully wrapped package in hand.

“I’ll take the boys,” he said, handing her the box with a mischievous grin, “and you could maybe do a little modeling for me when I get back.”

Loren looked at him, her face softening with appreciation and affection for her gorgeous Swede. She wrapped her arms around him in a loving embrace, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Be careful,” she murmured, William flashing a smile her way as he turned to lead the pups to the front door.

Once he had departed with the dogs, Loren sat on the edge of the bed, the package resting in her lap. She ran her fingers over the carefully wrapped paper, recalling how William had teased her for being so slow to open her other birthday gifts. She’d explained that she was used to saving the wrapping paper—a habit he’d found endearing once she told him.

She smiled to herself, sliding the rectangular box free without so much as a tear. The wrapping remained pristine, just as it had with her other gifts. Loren set the paper aside before lifting the lid of the box, her curiosity mounting.

Beyond the smooth tissue paper with the sticker emblem of the store sealing the seams, Loren saw the outline of a beautiful lingerie set. Her cheeks flushed as she peeled the sticker away and opened the paper to reveal a delicate ivory negligée with matching panties.

What struck Loren most was how angelic the set appeared, the ivory colour evoking a sense of innocence and purity. Her fingers grazed the intricate beading and sheer fabric, tracing the fine satin ties that adorned the front. Every detail was strategically designed to enhance the female body. As she held the negligée up to the light by the thin spaghetti straps, Loren grew excited to see how it might embellish her own figure.

She tried to visualize William's mood when he chose to buy this for her. She was so curious to understand more of how his mind and moods worked - was it just a random set he saw one day or did he go searching for it? Did he just think it was pretty or was there a deeper meaning behind choosing an outfit so delicate?

No matter the reason behind his choice, the moment Loren stripped out of her leisure wear and slipped into the ivory babydoll, her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of herself in William’s full-length mirror.

The almost shimmering fabric and the intricate beading reflected the light with every slight movement of her body. She slid the matching panties on, her hands smoothing over them as she continued to study her reflection.

The way the outfit made her feel was extraordinary. She felt soft, feminine, and undeniably pretty—and the tan from her trip was a gorgeous contrast to the light fabric. It seemed perfectly her - angelic yet jaw-droppingly sexy.

After sprucing up her hair, smoothing her favourite body butter over her body (the one with the scent that always made him pounce), and a quick yet subtle application of make-up, she awaited William’s return. She straightened out the sheets on the bed, and decided she would greet him by kneeling in the middle of the bed and wait for his reaction.

Even with only a few hours sleep, William felt remarkably energetic as he ushered his dogs back through the front door after their walk. When he didn’t see her in the main living area or the kitchen, he assumed that she either fell back asleep or better yet, might be in the shower. Although he wanted to see her in the lingerie he had chosen, Loren - naked - was always the main attraction.

William moved about the kitchen, fixing the dogs’ breakfasts and grabbing a quick drink of water. The condo felt unusually quiet, and he assumed sleep had claimed Loren after her whirlwind week.

But the second he stepped foot into his bedroom, he froze.

There she was, kneeling in the center of the bed, framed by the soft glow of twinkling white lights and the greenery still draped over the headboard from Christmas.

The delicate ivory fabric and intricate beadwork, with their faint shimmer, perfectly accentuated her luminescent golden skin and slender frame. The satin ties strained ever so slightly, pushing her full breasts upwards and keeping them intact. His eyes fell to her cleavage, further arousing him as he scanned the otherwise angelic set.

William began to shed his clothing, his eyes locked with hers. No words had been spoken between them, but none were needed as their desire for one another took hold.

He crawled onto the bed, bare-chested, the fabric of his sweatpants tented with his growing arousal. Without hesitation, he cupped her face and kissed her deeply, his lips expressing everything he felt but hadn’t yet said—how sorry he was, how much he missed her, how deeply and completely he was in love with her.

The dynamic between them was set the moment their mouths met—he, the virile man, all strength and desire; she, the soft, feminine angel who consistently gave him all of her.

She looked up at William’s face, her deep brown eyes sincere, filled with longing and profound desire. Her arm slid around the contours of his defined shoulders, her fingers threading through his golden strands before gathering and lightly gripping his hair. Her hands instinctively moved along his scalp, eliciting a low, guttural sound from him that sent a thrill through her.

Her other hand slowly blazed a path down his chest, past his abdomen, to where his cock strained against the stretchy black fabric of his pants. Her fingers began massaging and caressing his balls before alternating with teasing strokes along the tip of his cock. His breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling as he pressed his mouth against the soft curve of her throat. He already felt like he was coming undone, completely disarmed by her touch—the touch he had been longing for.

But beneath the haze of arousal, another feeling gnawed at him. He wanted to look after her, to love her in ways he hadn’t since New Year’s. Though his physical desire for her had remained even during his uncharacteristic low mood, he knew he hadn’t put forth the same kind of effort Loren always gave so selflessly.

Though she never let on if she felt unfulfilled in those moments, he felt the sting of his own guilt. He’d prioritized his own release over hers a handful of times, letting his exhaustion or frustration seep into their intimacy. Loren deserved better than what he had given her.

William placed soft, open-mouthed kisses along the base of her neck, his lips lingering on her skin as his fingers worked to untie the satin bows along the front of the teddy. With each careful tug, the delicate fabric loosened, revealing more of her flushed skin. Her breasts were bunched, her nipples protruding through the sheer material, and William’s mouth latched onto the clothed peaks with a hunger that made Loren gasp.

He knew exactly what drove her wild—sucking and tonguing her nipples until she was breathless—and he gave them his full attention, his tongue swirling in deliberate patterns that left her completely weak in the knees. Her moans filled the room, soft and unrestrained, urging him on.

With a fluid motion, William slipped off his pants and shorts, freeing his fully hardened cock. The sight of him—so completely aroused—made Loren’s mouth water and her clit ache with an undeniable need.

William maneuvered himself behind her, propping up pillows against the headboard to support his back. He coaxed Loren to nestle between his legs, her back pressed firmly against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, his hands exploring the expanse of her body that was within reach—her neck, her breasts, her tummy, and the sensitive space between her thighs.

One hand gently kneaded her breast, his thumb brushing over the peak as he kissed the soft curve of her neck. The other hand slipped lower, massaging her clothed pussy with deliberate pressure. The sensation sent jolts of pleasure through her, making her body shift between states of relaxation and the tightening tension of her heightening arousal.

William’s lips trailed down the full length of the back of her neck as he moved her hair over to one side, the heat of his breath against her skin making her shiver. Loren gripped his forearm instinctively, her fingers digging in as the intense sensitivity of his touch overwhelmed her in the most intoxicating way.

She breathed his name, her voice trembling, then gasped as his middle finger dipped beneath the waistband of her sheer panties. His strong, thick digits stroked the delicate flesh of her pussy, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through her. His mouth found her shoulder blade, nipping and sucking at her skin leaving her pleading for more.

William had never knowingly marked her before, but this time, he couldn’t help himself. The way she responded to his touch was almost too stimulating for him to handle.

The magic in his fingers had Loren’s hips grinding instinctively against him, her arousal building with every stroke. Soon, William’s other hand slid from her breast to her clit, circling it with precision while he finger-fucked her with deep, steady movements.

She leaned her head back, almost pressing it against his shoulder, her moans a tantalizing mix of expletives and his name. William’s gaze lingered on her, captivated by every detail—the long sweep of her eyelashes, the curve of the prettiest nose he’d ever seen, and the full, voluptuous mouth that had thrilled him every time it made contact with his body.

His eyes traveled lower, watching her throat tighten with whispers and gasps, and then higher, catching the way her eyes suddenly flew open wide as she cried out his name. The way she unraveled in his arms, gripping under his thighs and bearing down for an intense release, sent a jolt of pride through him. His cock, almost unbearably rigid, pressed against the fleshy curve of her ass, eager for its turn to be buried deep inside her.

William’s voice was low and thick as he leaned closer, whispering into her ear. “You look like an angel. Let me watch you cum, my beautiful angel.”

Typically, the moans, grunts and other noises William made while in the throes of sex with Loren turned her on to no end. She would have never guessed that William saying those words, could have such an effect on her. The sound of his voice, low and gruff, sent her spiraling. Her hands scrambled around his body, gripping at whatever she could. Her body arched into his, her inner thighs trembling violently.

Her climax hit like a forceful wave, leaving her crying out his name as her body jolted and shuddered with the peak of her release. As she floated down from her high, her hips wove instinctively, seeking more of him. She wasn’t done—not even close. And neither was he.

Once Loren regained her bearings, she turned to face him, her body shifting seductively as she kneeled and propped herself against his broad chest. Her lips found his in a heated kiss, her hand cupping his face while the other slid down, working to peel off her now-soaked panties.

A devilish moan escaped her as she tossed them aside, her eyes locking onto the smooth, glistening tip of his cock. Slowly, she began to crawl backward on her knees, her intentions clear in every movement.

William’s pulse quickened as he watched her movements, every deliberate shift of her body drawing him in further. He knew exactly what she wanted—her gaze, intense and unmistakable, paired with the way she licked her lips as his cock hovered mere inches from her mouth.

He loved how open and expressive she was with her desires, how she never held back from showing him exactly what she wanted.

But more and more, each time they were apart, it wasn't just Loren's physical affection he missed. It was seeing her exquisite face and hearing her sweet voice. When he entered a room, her coffee-colored eyes would meet his with such care and devotion that his heart would skip. He had never met a woman who could make him feel so cherished with just a glance.

William’s tone was soft and low as he motioned for Loren to come back towards him. “I promise you and Cowboy Bill can have your alone time later - I’m dying to be inside of you - let me watch you cum again….”

Loren’s cheeks flushed at his invitation, her own pulse raced hearing the hunger in his voice. Kneeling before him, she reached out, her thumb gently running through the bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip of his cock. She smoothed it over the head with care, her eyes fixed on his as she licked her thumb clean.

A soft, sinful smile played on Loren’s lips as she leaned forward once more, her tongue flicking over the top of his cock before pressing a kiss to the smooth, sensitive skin. Her movements were deliciously slow, designed to make him desperate for her.

Gracefully, she shifted her body, sliding one knee on either side of him as she straddled his lap. Her hands found his shoulders for balance, her lips brushing his in a kiss that left him breathless.

Her eyes flicked to the small bottle of oil she’d brought back from her trip, tucked into the basket of self-care products she’d given him. Of course, with the massage oil, “self-care” really meant “William-care” in her mind. Her hips continued their enticing motion as she kissed his neck and reached for the glass bottle.

The sparkling glint in William’s eye as he watched Loren drop two beads of oil into her palm was full of lust and anticipation. He untied the third satin string from the front of her teddy, baring her breasts completely, and motioned for her to let a little oil drip into his hand.

With the bottle safely set aside, Loren deftly reached around and began to massage the base of William’s cock, sliding her hand upward to his balls and all the way to the tip. Her touch was perfect—gentle yet firm—and it left him utterly helpless, groaning her name as his hips bucked involuntarily.

In turn, with her round breasts before him, William smoothed his palms over her soft skin, thumbing her nipples with just enough pressure to make her grind against him more intensely.

It wasn’t long before William urged Loren to slide herself down onto his cock. Their mouths met in a fervent kiss, the heat between them down-right feverish as she positioned herself, and he aligned the tip against her entrance. The moment he filled her, she gasped and moaned in one breath, her senses overwhelmed by the stretch and thickness of his girth.

Her hands gripped his shoulders as she began to rock slowly, her body adjusting to the sensation. Her head lolled back, her lips parting in a gasp as her rhythm grew more assured. Her movements became more pronounced, her hips rolling and shifting to drive him deeper inside her.

William’s hands found her waist, gripping tightly as he pressed upward, matching her eager pace. His eyes were drawn to her mouth, where endless moans of his name and breathy exhales spilled out, each sound urging him to grip onto her waist tighter.

His eyes traveled to her long, slender neck, the visible veins beginning to strain as her body succumbed to the unrelenting pleasure. There was something undeniably sexy about it, something raw and primal that only fueled his already raging desire for her.

Loren’s increasingly rapid hip movements, coupled with her louder moans, signaled that she was nearing her climax. As her body shifted back and forth, she reached around to cup and caress his balls, her touch sending jolts of pleasure straight through him. William’s thigh muscles began to tighten, the telltale sensation of his own orgasm starting to grip him from within.

Unable to hold back, he wrapped his arms tightly around her back and waist, pulling her closer and driving the pace of their fucking to a fevered intensity. Each thrust pushed him deeper, harder, matching the rhythm of her cries. Loren gritted her teeth, her hands gripping his neck and shoulders as her powerful orgasm took full control of her movements.

Her body shuddered as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, and she buried her face into his neck in an attempt to stifle her cries. The sensation of her tightening around him sent William over the edge, a guttural grunt escaping his throat as he came, pumping his release deep into her.

Even as the tremors of their shared release began to subside, William’s arms remained firmly around Loren’s breathless body. She trembled in his embrace, her body shuddering from the unique bliss of her climax, her breath warm against his skin.

He shifted his body carefully, his arms still firmly wrapped around her, as he gently laid her down on the mattress. His eyes roamed over her, taking in the sight of her hair sprawled across the pillows, her skin glowing, her breath becoming more even.

Her eyes were closed, her expression one of pure bliss, and in that moment, she looked otherworldly.

She felt the sandpaper roughness of his stubble on her shoulder as he pressed his lips softly against her skin. “Did you fall asleep?” he murmured, his voice low as he brushed his lips over her chest. He kissed her gently between her breasts, then continued down to her stomach.

Her hand lazily found the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as he planted more kisses along the softer part of her abdomen.

A smile began to spread across her face. “I just need a minute or two,” she sighed, trying to lift her arm to drape it around his waist.

After a few “minute or twos” had passed, William and Loren eventually made their way first to the washroom, then to the kitchen. Loren had come back to life, leaning against the counter and admiring William as he fished through the pantry for a quick breakfast.

With his back to her as he searched for his protein powder, he called out teasingly, “I can feel you looking at me.”

Loren let out a soft chuckle. “Your hair—I didn’t realize how long it had gotten until I was—”

“Nearly pulling it out?” he laughed, but his expression dropped suddenly. “Fuck, I forgot… I’m getting it cut this afternoon.”

Loren made a pouty face. No matter what he did, he always looked incredible, but she really was enjoying his longer hair. William glanced over after double-checking his appointment confirmation in his texts. “You don’t want me to cut it?” he asked, smiling.

“Your body, your rules,” she replied, smirking. “I just won’t have as much to grip when you’re dining on my… well, you know. But I guess that’s probably done for the day anyway.”

William tilted his head as he stepped toward her. “I didn’t think we were done for the day… and my appointment isn’t until 3.” He took another step, loosening the tie on her robe. “Gotta say, I overheard Stevie talking about him and his fiancée thinking about trying for a baby.”

Loren’s eyes grew wide, her mouth slightly agape.

Seeing her reaction, William doubled back on his comment. “I know we’re not quite there yet, but I can’t stop thinking about it. If—and when—we decide we want to try… I think, man, we’d have a lot of fun.”

Loren smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck and threading her fingers through his hair. “Let me get something to eat first. Then I’ll have my alone time with Cowboy Bill and that Aphrodisiac Oil.” Her tone dropped to a sultry purr as she added, “After that, you can do whatever you want with me… imagining putting a baby in me.”

She kissed him deeply, her hands gripping his ass. Her cheeks flushed as butterflies swirled in her stomach at the thought that filled her with unexpected joy:

He’s actually thinking about the day he puts a baby in me.

[zhongliologist]

If All is Lost, What Then?

Pairing: Aventurine x fem!reader Genre: SMUT (18+) Words: 5.9k Sypnosis: If all hope you had was lost, what then? You sought a certain gambler for a specific need and purpose. You don't know how it will end up, yet it's not like it matters. It was all transactional anyway, and you'd get what you want. But what you haven't considered was how fate works in inexplicable ways. Warnings: implied suicidal tendencies, loss of virginity, creampie, self-destruction A/N: Hi! this is the promised Aventurine fic! It may be a little heavy, any I didn't go into the specifics so everything is a little vague. But I do plan for this to be part of a larger story! Everything will probably be explain there! Please pray tho that I finish that one...

THIS IS AN 18+ FIC. BY CLICKING THE READ MORE BUTTON, YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD AND ACCEPTED THAT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND LIABLE FOR THE DECISION YOU MADE.

 The night was young in the golden district.

The lights, the laughter and the silent laments of its numerous guests and residents encompass the gilded capital of the Corporation. As if they had all gathered there at a single point where all the greed, the glamor and the glib were all contained in a single drop. And the planet’s skies seem to glow in response, its dark purple-red hues become a tantalizing backdrop against the shimmering visage of the city underneath. 

If Penacony was too far of a dream for the mundane and the ordinary, Pier Point would come close to second in the list of places to create superficial dreams, waste money and shatter futures. Unlike the planet of festivities however, Pier Point does not dwell with pretentious marketing--the fact that it is the headquarters of the most lucrative business in the cosmos is enough to gather personalities attracted to power and wealth like moths to a flame. 

And that sort of reputation was the reason why you were there. It didn’t care who you were as long as you had a pretty penny on your name, and you had a lot of it. Your clothes seem to reflect this casual display of wealth--not too ostentatious to be deemed a wannabe nor too ordinary to be looked down on. A black silk dress draped over your body like some forlorn goddess of some faraway planet and adorned by miniscule gold chains which accentuate your neck and framed your face in sultry perfection. It was simple yet elegant. 

Despite its beauty, your clothes felt like armor against your skin--an efficiently calculated strategy, a means to an end. You were no different than the people who pollute the alleyways of Pier Point, searching for something, anything the city could give in exchange for credits.

Paying for a cab to take you to the more lavish parts of the city, the scenery gradually transitioned from grimy streets to immaculately trimmed lawns and dimly lit hotel lobbies. You almost scoffed at the gradation. Leave it to the IPC to visually demonstrate a massive wealth gap. 

Yet you shook your head at the thought. Tonight you didn’t care and you didn't think. Thoughts become spiraling steps towards the dark depths of your being, and you didn’t want to go there again. Right now, you have to do everything you can just to keep your head above the waves. 

Your ride casually dropped you in front of a formidable-looking façade. Its massive brutalist columns and large windows seem to reflect the concept of the Preservation--the patron saint of the IPC. But there were various iterations of what the Aeon Qlipoth represents, and you were sure Pier Point, and therefore, the IPC represented the gluttonous and selfish need for safety and stability. Yet this building seemed out of place, even reminding you of Jarilo-VI architecture, a different variation of the same path. It would have sparked your curiosity on any normal day, yet your spirit was exhausted, down and beaten. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask why. 

Amber Gardens: Hotel and Casino. You smiled as you climbed the concrete steps. How fitting.

The ongoing party was your target. Just like many parties in Pier Point, it attracted the right people you needed, and they will not consider refusing your request. For the next few moments, you sat at the bar in the hotel lobby, sipping a sallow-hued cocktail which seemed to taste faintly of vanilla and lemon drops. It was a much-needed remedy to numb your frayed nerves and to silence dark imaginings. As you drank the bubbling liquid, it burned the stubborn demons still lingering in your thoughts, washed away by the alcohol as easily as the tide. What was left was an impulsive drive strong enough to leave everything you built burning and wasted.

It was no question if what you had in mind will succeed or not. The fish will take a bite no matter what, you mused. Much to your surprise however, it didn’t take that long for something to come back reeling. Who would’ve thought the fish was that eager to take the bet?

“Look who’s wandered around here.” A drawl echoed beside your ear, too close in fact that it almost made you jerk away.

“I expected a warmer welcome, Senior Manager,” you replied with an arched brow and a jaded look which was only responded with a light chuckle. 

You gave him an immediate once over. He was the same as ever--still extravagant, still cocky and still as handsome as ever. He may have donned a simpler white suit over a teal dress shirt now, yet everything from his shades to his accessories screamed he had money to waste. You could only grimace at his wardrobe choice. 

As a senior manager of the IPC, Aventurine was talented in doing business, yet to him, that business seemed to look more like a game of poker than anything. You had initially met him at a random work-related function, similar to the party you had tonight, and you were right to assume that he was every bit crazy. In any normal day, you wouldn’t dare approach him for your wellbeing, yet tonight, you needed that devil-may-care attitude to lay everything to waste. 

“So? What brings you here, little miss--“ 

“Y/N. Right now, I’m just Y/N.” You interrupted, eyes daring him to challenge you.

Aventurine hummed at your sudden interjection. Interesting. 

There was something different about you tonight--a little derailed and out of bounds. Aventurine always had a keen eye on these things, it helps with the gambling, and he could immediately tell that you are in need of something. You who always seemed so put-together, so full of promise, so unlike him…yet right now, you look like you were only held together by one piece of string, and if snaps, who could tell what will become of you.

“You didn’t come here just to taste some drinks, did you?” he asked with a sly smile, nothing betraying the tone of his voice. “Can I help you with something?” 

You leaned your head to the side, allowing him a view of your bare neck adorned with glimmering gold chains underneath the dim lights of the bar. 

“You could say I’m in need of something only you could give.”

“Oh?” he grinned, his bright eyes shining even through the cover of his shades, as his fingers began to trace yours on the champagne flute you were holding. Without you going into details, he could already tell what it is you wanted. It’s not a bad trade-off, in fact, he might actually gain something here. 

“Are you sure though? Once it’s done, you can’t do anything about it.” 

You didn’t try to move your hand away. Instead you allowed him to play with you, teasing your fingers with light touches. 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you replied. “I have nothing else to lose.” 

Aventurine smiled at your now intertwined pinkies. “I admit, hearing you say those words gave me a little shiver.”

You smirked. “Do they suit me?”

Aventurine chuckled, removing his shades and placing them on the table. “Never in my wildest dream did I imagine you’d approach me like this, but…” 

Leaning towards you, he easily seized your hand and entangled his fingers on yours. “I would be a fool to leave you like this.” 

Without even waiting for you to respond, he then brought your hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of your hand as a romantic gesture. At that moment, you realized how effortlessly he could enchant anyone he wishes. It scared you for a moment, but Aventurine was exactly the man you were looking for. Even with fatigue and apathy seeping through your bones, he made your frigid heart skip a beat with no trouble at all. 

“You sure have a talent for this…” you muttered mindlessly, earning a smile from the blond gambler. 

“Isn’t that why you approached me in the first place?” He replied as he stood up and offered a hand to you. “C’mon. Why don’t we continue this in a more private space?”

*

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined it to happen like this. 

It was so easy for Aventurine to set every vein in your body ablaze with simple nips and bites, so easy to set shivers down your spine at every slight and wanton touch. You could only cling to him for dear life as he ravished you against a wall of a dimly-lit hotel room. 

“Is this…what you had in mind, YN?” he asked, smirking as he assaulted your neck with kisses. 

“I--nggh!” 

It was already impossible to reply at that point. You, who was never held like this before felt incredibly overstimulated; each touch foreign and arousing. It was like having a taste of drugs for the first time, and you were easily becoming addicted to the novel pleasures he was introducing you to. 

“Come on, princess,” he teased, as he enjoyed tracing his lips on your bare neck and shoulders. “Is this all you can handle? We haven’t even started yet.”

“Aven…turine…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

He could barely manage to control himself, yet here he was saying things. Your half-lidded eyes, your wonderful curves draped over by messy clothes, and your sweet, sweet sighs whispering his name as if in prayer--it was as if everything about you was made to arouse him. Aventurine already had his fair share of sexual partners yet something about you made him feel like it was the first time. 

He brushed his cold fingers against your ear, making you squirm so adorably. It was so easy to tease you—he could plant kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose—and you reacted just enough to make him want to bully you. 

Oh, Aventurine…you got lucky once again. 

“Y-You…stop playing with me…!” you scolded him, brows furrowed and frown deepening. 

“How can’t I?” Aventurine chuckled. “You’re so cute.”

“Ughh…flattery will get you nowhere…” 

He laughed again, but this time, his swift fingers effortlessly divested you of your dress, allowing it to pool at your feet. Immediately, you squealed and tried to cover your now almost-naked body with minimal success. 

“Is this funny to you?!” 

Seething, you glared at him despite how flushed your cheeks were. What made you more annoyed was when he thought of lifting your chin with a finger, and leaned close; just stopping short of kissing you. 

“You’re not used to this, are you?” he asked with a grin. 

“…ugh,” you scowled further, but refused to say anything more. It seemed to have amused Aventurine further. 

“Sorry, I won’t tease you anymore,” he conceded with a defeated smile, brushing a thumb on your lips.

In that moment, the both of you stared in silence; waiting for a beat to pass by. You finally had the chance to explore those deeply vibrant eyes he usually kept covered, and in those depths you have found no light—like an ocean with neither sun nor moon. How ironic, you thought. A person who seemed to flash and gleam like a jewel actually had no light of his own. In those brief moments, the playful mood had died down, only to unravel a somber truth that the both of you may perhaps be in need of the same thing. 

“...kiss me, Aventurine,” you dared, coming out as a low growl. 

Again, the blond only smiled at you solemnly. He held your cheeks with both hands; so gentle that you almost thought he was holding his lover. 

“I’m not that cruel,” he replied, leaving kisses all over your face except your lips. “Let someone kiss you out of love, not out of desperation.” 

Ah. You smiled bitterly.

“Alright, I understand,” you replied, your fingers clinging to his arm. “Just…help me forget all of it.” 

“Don’t worry, princess. I never disappoint.”

With those words, Aventurine pushed you back to the wall, pinning you so you can't escape while returning his lips to your neck and collarbone. Everything after that felt like a flurry of bodies moving against each other, of lips exploring every nook and cranny, of hands caressing each curve and dip. In the process, he had divested of his shirt together with your underwear. 

He refused to take your first kiss, but Aeons…did he take everything he could. At this point, you were leaning against the wall while he was kneeling in front of you, arms circled around your thighs to keep you from moving. You were so dazed, your brain unable to keep up with his relentless ministrations. 

“W-What are you…” 

“Just stay still, princess. I’ll show you a good time.” 

Suddenly, Aventurine buried his face at the apex of your thighs, taking a swipe at your already drenched cunt. He kept at it mercilessly, stimulating your sensitive nub until your knees felt weak and you had to hold on to his shoulders to keep you from falling. It was a totally novel sensation—you never thought it would feel this way, not in your wildest imagination. Even though you had played with yourself numerous times, someone eating you out was definitely something else. 

“A-ahh…w-wait! Aven..turine…!” 

The stimulation was too strong, and you were scared where you’ll end up if he doesn’t stop now. However, it seems Aventurine had no intention of stopping even though your hands were pulling on his hair. The pain, the sweet taste of your juices, plus the sound of you screaming seemed to only make his pants tighter. 

“F-fuck…! I can’t…!”

He always thought there was something innocent about you, even during such dirty acts; and he can’t help himself from bullying you further. So even though you were screaming for him to stop, he only slipped his tongue further into your hole, as his nose brushed against your clit. Your subsequent sobs made all of it worth it. 

“Hnghh…!! I c-can’t hold it…Aventurine…p-please!”

You could hardly keep your eyes open anymore. The stimulation was too much that you were already seeing stars. Every time he would press a thumb on your clit, an electric shock would shoot right up your spine, winding you up right until you were at the brink of climax. 

“Don’t hold back, princess.”

The rumble of his voice plus a flick of his tongue on your clit were all you needed to come tumbling down; moaning his name over and over again as your body shook and quaked. You have never experienced an orgasm like that in your whole life—so if this was what it felt like when he was only eating you out, what more would it feel like if he was buried inside you to the hilt, filling you to the brim with his cum?

In Aventurine’s eyes, there was no better view than watching you come, all flushed and shaking, while he was squeezed between your plush and soft thighs. If the Aeons permit, he’d love to spend hours just down there pleasuring you over and over again until you pass out. 

But that was a thought for another day. For the meantime, Aventurine released you from his confines and caught you in his arms before you fell to the carpeted floor. Even through the mists of post-orgasm, you were entranced by his bright eyes as if they were beckoning you closer. And you nonetheless allowed yourself to be enthralled—kissing his stained cheeks; kissing him anywhere and everywhere you could reach. 

And even your kisses seemed so innocent, he thought. An awful guy like him who had taken advantage of you during your moment of weakness does not deserve such kisses. Yet, even though racked by guilt, he couldn’t stop you nor himself. Perhaps he should think like you, pretending this was something fated, something deserved. For tonight, you were lovers.

“Hey…um…” you suddenly pulled him out of his reverie. “I want to…return the favor. Can you…um…teach me how?” 

Aventurine was almost too stunned to speak, but he thanked his wit for being able to recover as quickly. Seems like he has chewed more than he could swallow. 

“You don’t need to, princess,” he smiled, once again cupping your cheek and brushing a finger on your lips, imagining what dangerous things these lips could do to him. “The pleasure was all mine.” 

“No…you don’t understand. I want to…uh…learn how to do it, so to speak…” 

He signed internally. Who would have thought little miss Y/N could do this much damage to him? Who knew that cold and frigid little you could affect him so much? 

“Then who am I to say no?” he replied with an easy smile. “Let’s start by going on your knees.”

Immediately, you did as you were told. Like an obedient student, Aventurine thought. You were never going to make this easier for his self-control, will you?

The sight of you kneeling, looking at him so innocently did wonders to his brain. It was as if he had stumbled into a power trip—if he wasn’t careful, he’d scare you for life. At the same time, he wasn’t keen on stopping. It was already too late to stop.

“What a good girl,” he remarked absentmindedly, placing a thumb on your lips. He closely watched his thumb press and prod your soft and plush lips, thinking how it would feel around his cock. He thought of you looking at him in anticipation, these lips pressed on the tip of his shaft. He shivered. 

Finally, pushing beyond, his thumb was only greeted by your warm tongue. 

“That’s right. Imagine it’s my dick. Use your tongue. Suck it, play with it…lick as much as you want.”

You followed his instructions down to the dot. Everything he asks of you, you did perfectly and diligently. Considering who you are, it would be embarrassing to be accused of not following instructions, wouldn’t it?

“Seems like you have an aptitude for this,” he snickered. “Not that I’m surprised.” 

In no time, he had three fingers in your mouth—nudging and playing with your tongue, mesmerized by how you wrapped around him. Aventurine couldn’t help but think of his cock in your mouth as you bobbed your head up and down just like how you did with his fingers. He’d bet your mouth would be so warm and tight; he’d come right away. 

“Am I doing good?” you asked as you looked up at him, voice muffled by his fingers. 

Fuck…

You might’ve not noticed but Aventurine was close to imploding. The naive look on your eyes, your flushed cheeks and how erotic your tongue was wrapped around his fingers—everything about you seemed to be designed to break his self control. He doesn’t fuck like an animal, but Aeons forbid he might as well if you were going to be like this. 

“Alright. That’s enough. I think you’re ready,” he pulled out his fingers from your lips and licked them, tasting you as he gazed right into your eyes. 

The effect was instantaneous. You shivered in anticipation as you took a nervous gulp. You never imagined anyone would look so sexy while licking their own fingers, but here you were, flushed and bothered. Your core was already drenched since earlier—your sticky juices dripping down your thighs to your legs. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his belt unbuckling. Once again, anticipation exploded in your gut and made your heart race. You never imagined you’d do something like this, but here you were. Watching as he unzipped his pants, he finally took out his hard cock from its confines. Eyes widening in surprise as you realized how big and hard he was, you suddenly weren’t sure he’d fit in your mouth. Practicing with his fingers seemed like a huge understatement. 

“Don’t worry, princess,” he reassured you with a grin on his lips, cupping your cheeks once again. “I’ll be sure to help you out.”

Aventurine then held his hand out to you, which you took immediately.

“Now, I want you to hold me,” he told you, as he placed your hand on the base of his cock. You could feel your heartbeat on your throat, waiting patiently for further instructions.

“You can lick me just like you did with my fingers,” he said, fingers lifting your chin up. “You can take me in nice and slow. I’ll be patient.”

Ignoring the thunderous sound of your heart racing, you tentatively licked the tip of his cock, watching his every reaction with such attention. With every moment passing, you gradually became bolder and more excited, until you earned a growl from Aventurine after swiping your tongue from the base to the tip. 

“Hey, easy there, princess,” he chuckled with bated breath. “You’ll make me come in no time.”

For some reason, his breathy groans encouraged you further. There was something so addictive and so enthralling to the sound of his sultry voice, which made you want to please him more. Every time you would trace a vein with your tongue or whenever you suck on his tip, he would hold your hair tightly and try to resist the urge to climax so early. 

If Aventurine was honest, he could tell it was really your first time. You were sloppy and slow, and there were times he thought you were teasing him by not going any further. But inexplicably, he was so hot and bothered at that moment. His cheeks were flushed and heated and that certain look on your face whenever you glance up to him for validation could easily snap his sanity into two.

Perhaps it was because he had never expected this side of you. The contrast between your regular self and the you right now was massive, and that certainly had a different appeal in and of itself. The image of you sucking him off, mouth full of his dick will definitely be etched into his mind forever. Whether or not this will happen again, who knows? But he definitely landed on a jackpot once again. 

You admit this wild and bothered look on him was something you loved, partly because of how carelessly handsome he is, partly because this was your own doing. You made him become like this, and perhaps you could get him to give you more. Finally gathering the courage, you took him to the hilt, filling your mouth and throat; surprising him with the sensation. 

“S-shit…! Y/N!” 

Choking out a cry, Aventurine pushed you away and scooped you up over his shoulder. Something definitely snapped in him, you recalled thinking as he tossed you ungracefully to the nearby bed and pinning you on the spot between his legs. 

“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a menace?” He chuckled darkly, brushing his messy blond hair with his fingers. “You see, I don’t want to come in your mouth first thing tonight. Rather, I’d like to make a mess here…”

Spreading your legs wide, Aventurine pressed a finger on your wet and sensitive clit, making you cling to the sheets instantly. He easily turned you into a screaming, sobbing mess with his fingers rubbing your drenched folds. 

“A-aven…mmnh!! W-wait…ah—!”

The blond didn’t allow for any rest as he smoothly inserted two fingers inside, rubbing your gummy walls until you had trouble spreading your legs. You had no time to think, no time to ruminate on what was happening to you. Aventurine was relentless in his assault, sending waves upon waves of pleasure from your lower part towards the rest of your body. You could hardly keep your eyes open at how intense his fingers were, both attacking your pleasure point and your clit. 

It feels good…! It feels so fucking good…

Aventurine chuckled; his eyes almost glowing. “So pretty…my pretty little slut. Are you going to come? Here, let me help you.”

Without stopping his fingers, he leaned forward and started circling his hot tongue around your nipple. He nipped and bit at your soft and supple flesh yet he refused to give you any respite. 

“N-no…no…it’s too much! I’m going to…!” 

Knowing you were close, he suddenly bit your nipple and pushed his against your g-spot at the same time. Of course, you shuddered and screamed his name as you fell down the peak of your climax. He could only grin at your messy and enthused form, with your thighs drenched with your own juices, your lips stained with drool and tears and your skin littered by marks of his own creation. However, that wasn’t enough. Not enough at all. 

“Who would’ve thought this was your first time?” he remarked, fishing out a condom from his pants. 

“W-wait…!” you manage in between breaths. “You…don’t have to…I-I came prepared…” 

Arching a brow at you, the blond was greatly amused at how far you’d take all of this. “So you really came for the whole experience, huh? My princess is rather diligent.”

Placing himself between your legs, Aventurine began to rub his hard cock on your folds, lathering his shaft with your own juices. On the occasion of his tip brushing against your clit, you would beg and sob for him—unsure if you want to continue, but missing his presence when he decides to pull away. 

“A-Aventurine….wait! I just came…nghh!! P-please…!” 

“Isn’t this what you asked for, princess?” he taunted, threatening to enter you but suddenly slipping away. “I’m going to fuck you now, are you ready?”

It was the million dollar question; the whole point of tonight. Everything about this encounter was out of desperation and there was definitely no turning back, yet in the end, does it even matter? 

Without hesitation, you nodded your head, and repeated your words. “Just help me forget…”

Aventurine scoffed. “Don’t worry. You won’t be able to think of anything but me.”

Not waiting for a reply, Aventurine slowly inserted his cock in you, careful not to be too harsh. You anticipated the pressure, yet you seemed to have grossly underestimated how full you’ll feel as he gently pushed in and out. It was totally different and definitely overwhelming. If he hadn’t made you come twice, you’d probably be crying out in pain now. Leaning over, the blond attempted to distract you from the uncomfortable feeling by assaulting your neck and chest, leaving more love bites in his wake. Finally, with much effort, Aventurine was now fully inside you, yet he still waited for you to get accustomed to his size before doing anything. 

“How does it feel?” he asked in a low voice as he bit and licked the underside of your ear. 

“Hnnghh….I feel so full,” you managed to reply even though you were breathless. “You’re so big, Aventurine…” 

“Here, hold me,” he offered as he directed your arms to circle around his neck. “Just relax.” 

You never imagined Aventurine to have this side of him. Even though you could tell he was trying to resist the urge to move, he was being gentle and patient with you. It was as if he was concerned you’d be in pain rather than chasing his own high. It might’ve moved your frigid heart for a moment. 

“I…I think I’m fine now…” you finally told him as the discomfort toned down. “Please make me feel good…” 

“Anything for you, princess,” he chuckled, nuzzling on your neck as he steadily picked up his pace. 

Thank the Aeons you finally allowed him to move. He was almost at his wits’ end, as he struggled to keep himself calm while wrapped around by your warm and tight walls. Even as he gently rocked back and forth inside you, the only thing keeping himself from coming was how he distracted himself with pleasuring you. Amusingly, he also wondered why he was acting like this was his first time. 

“Oh god…there! A-ahh! Harder please!” you screamed beside his ear, your hands brushing through his hair at the nape. 

“You dirty girl…” he grumbled, thrusting sharply into you. Noticing how you both had finally settled on a rhythm, Aventurine decided to switch positions—now leaning back and holding your hips as he rammed ruthlessly into you. 

You immediately saw stars every time his cock pushed against the sensitive spot inside of you, arching your back at the intensity of the pleasure. This was different, so different from the other kinds of pleasures he had shown you tonight. This was primal, this was true and actual mating. You could feel him thrust against the entrance of your womb, intent to fill you up with his cum. 

“F-fuck…” he whispered, sensing the closeness of his climax. He could only endure so much, but of course, if he’s going down, you’re going down with him too. 

With his thumb, Aventurine began to stimulate your sensitive nub again, rubbing and flicking it, and enjoying your wild screams. The room was filled with your filthy noises—your sobs and cries, his cursing and growls and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It was dirty and obscene, and something you’d remember forever. 

“N-No! I’m…coming…a-ahh! Aven…I’m…!” 

“Y-yes, come with me, princess. I’ll fill you up with my cum…”

You could feel his movements become erratic, an indication that he was close. You, on the other hand, was no different. Your head was filled with electrifying shocks of pleasure as he drove into you over and over again. You could feel yourself teetering close to your climax, as you begged him to fill you up over and over again. 

Finally, in one sharp thrust, both you and Aventurine came. You shook, shivered and screamed as you felt his warmth fill you inside; tightening around him as you continued to ride out your orgasm. Meanwhile, he toppled above you, kissing your face over and over as if in a delirium. He then continued down your jaw, worshipping everywhere his lips could land on except on yours.

“Fuck…” he growled, pushing his still hard cock in you. “Can we do it again?”

It wasn’t everyday that he was this insatiable. He couldn’t understand why but something about you drove him feral, as if he had to breed you several times to feel satisfied. He couldn’t understand where this possiveness came from, but he wanted you so much that it ails him not to hold you. 

“W-wait…!” you rasped, arching your back as he once again descended on one of your breasts. “I just c-came…please…” 

Aventurine sat back up, watching you as you tried to regain your breath. He could feel his cum inside you, almost dripping out of you, and the thought seemed to entice him to keep you pressed against him. 

Lifting you up without pulling out, he turned you around. You landed on all fours as he unrelentingly continued to leave marks from your neck down to your back. You could feel his tongue tracing your spine as he descended down, while his cock continued to go in and out of you. 

“A-Aven…turine…! A-ah fuck…!” you cried out, unable to do anything but enjoy what he has to give you. 

You honestly felt like you couldn’t come anymore yet the mixture of pain and pleasure was so enthralling that you had to continue. You wanted to be driven up to deliriousness and insanity further, you wanted to know up to what limits he could take you. 

Unlike the first time, this round was the purest form of fucking. The both of you were trapped in a haze of lust, unable to stop yourselves from yearning for each other. He was rough and feral, as if he had only one last chance to do whatever he wanted with you, and you allowed it. After all, this was the kind of sex you were asking for—a sex so mind-numbing you stopped thinking altogether. All that mattered was the chase for pleasure and the final thunderous climax. 

“Oh Aeons…you feel so good, princess. I don’t want to stop…” he growled as he seized both your wrists and thrusted from the back, roughly going in and out of your hole until his cum began dripping out. 

“Please…harder!” you begged, “Fuck me harder…Aventurine…!” 

He chuckled in between low grunts. “What a dirty little princess…I’ll make sure you’ll never forget tonight…”

Right when you were so close, Aventurine pulled you to his lap facing him, his cock sinking into you and reaching even deeper places than before. His grip on your hips were bruising as he jerked into you sharply. His mouth was once again on your pulse point, and snaking towards the crook of your neck and then your jaw—if he can’t have your lips, might as well have everything else. 

“A-Aventurine…!”

As you moaned out his name, he glanced at you and watched as your face contorted in pleasure, memorizing how you looked in case he will never have the chance again. At that moment, both your lust-laden eyes met and locked both you in place, capturing you in an inescapable spell. Even as he continued to bounce you on top of him, your gazes never wavered. 

“Oh Aeons…I want to kiss you so badly…” he growled, eyes half-lidded and lips just a hair’s away from yours.

“Then kiss me…I want you to kiss me…p-please…” you pleaded in desperation. 

Yet he only smiled at you somberly. 

He wanted this to be real. He wanted to see you, to spend time with you again, not only just for tonight. Yet at the same time, Aventurine knew that if he gave you everything, you’d really have nothing else left to hold you back. He knew why you came to him tonight, why you wanted him to take your first time. He could see it in your eyes—the despair and the hopelessness, and how you didn’t care anymore. But he does, against his better judgement. He does, because he sees that same hopelessness reflected in his own eyes. So even if he wanted to taste those sweet lips now, he'd hold off.

“Focus, princess,” he ordered, thrusting into your g-spot to numb your head. 

To distract you, he pinched your clit and relentlessly pounded into you. He knew that was any easy ticket to your orgasm, though he was not spared. Your walls would tighten like a vice around him whenever you were close, and he himself couldn’t hold off that long. 

With all his ministrations going on at the same time, you could no longer think about anything except your pleasure and how you were so close. But in one stroke against your sensitive spot, Aventurine had you coming down from your high in a disastrous tumble, with you shaking on his laps as you squirted on him. He followed soon after, unable to deny himself any longer. Ropes of cum filled you once again, savoring a feeling of warmth in your womb as you teetered at the edge of consciousness. The last thing you remembered was the sensation of his lips on your forehead, bidding you good night and promising to clean up after you. 

By the time you woke up, you could see slits of light peeking from the heavy curtains. You were definitely clean as promised, but now you were alone. Of course you were. It was a transaction after all. 

Cursing at how sore you felt, you spotted a note on the nightstand as you moved to stand up. You could only chuckle after reading. 

Ask me to kiss you if we meet again. -A

P.S. I’ll treat you to dinner if you do. 

[fandom-puzzle-peaces]

Just a Thought About Cale Part 2

It hath been requested, so here is a sort of continuation from my last post. Today I am gonna talk more about what I believe Cale embodies:

HOPE & LOVE

In my first post I already talked about hope a bit, and ya’ll can read that if you want my full take on this, but I will continue where I left off. Last time, I mentioned that something was missing when I listed out what it is exactly that Cale hopes to have in his “slacker life.” Said list is:

A nice house

A peaceful place to have said house in

A ton of money

After looking at this you may be wondering what is missing, since it looks like everything Cale has stated time again to want is already there. However, we all know how unreliable of a narrator he is and that he never actually fully says what he wants unless it’s money. What is missing is his hope of having a family living there with him in that nice peaceful house.

It’s so obvious that he misses having others around him, regardless of how many times he denies it. He’s just scared of losing them again, and for a time I do genuinely believe he had given up on that hope of having loved ones. But over the course of his new life as Cale Henituse you can slowly but surely see that hope being rekindled. It also helps when he learns that the “curse” that was accidentally placed on him due to white star shenanigans is now gone.

So now he actually has a chance to be able to keep his new family around, and you better believe he will do anything in his power to do so. We have already seen plenty of his self-sacrificial stunts to know this fact already. Cale’s list of hopes, of course, has continued to grow from just those beginning 3 that encompass his “slacker life,” and most likely will as time goes on to most likely include the simpler pleasures of life he can indulge in with his family.

A true family man I would say!

Now, regardless of how many hopes he has (or how small they may seem), Cale is someone who is full of hope and in turn fills others with it as well. So where does Love fit into our beloved idiot you may ask? Look at all of the people he has surrounded himself with and how he interacts with them. He may say he's "trashy" and a "bad person," but we all know he isn't with how he acts. Cale is highly perceptive of his family’s condition, their wants and needs. He goes out of his way, all the time, to make them happy:

He gives the children sweets and cuddles all the time

He gave Raon his name

He gives Rosalyn whatever she needs for her research and is helping her become the Magic Tower Master

He visits Alberu all the time and just hangs out, which must be such a relief to shed the royal persona (even if Cale does steal his cookies)

He lets Ron mess with him even though he hates it and helps him take back his ancestral home

Always eats everything Beacrox gives him and compliments it (probably also gives him new kitchen tools and ingredients to mess with as well)

He gave Eruhaben a reason to live longer and extended the dragon’s lifespan—and went through one hell of trial to do it—so he could do so (said reason being to live with them for as long as possible)

He gave Mary the world to experience and explore to her heart's content

Took in Lock and his siblings and just lets them be kids, albeit very violent ones

He got Choi Han a new sword (which he treasures), as well as a new home and family (which he treasures even more)

That's not even counting all he does for the others and his allies. But most of all, Cale protects them:

He never puts the kids in a situation where they can be hurt

Even when one of them was in harm’s way (Raon), he bodily shielded them not once but twice

He carried Rosalyn (with his weak noodle arms) when she couldn't stand out of harm’s way

He keeps Alberu's heritage a secret and helps him politically

He literally blew up an island for Ron

I don't think he's had a big moment for Beacrox yet, but he has saved him from the fate of living in a world without his father

Has shielded Eruhaben before from the White Star

Like the kids, Mary is almost always out of harm's way and he also protects her politically

Has shielded Lock during the Battle at the Gorge of Death

He protected Choi Han from completely losing it, as the biggest danger to Choi Han is Choi Han himself

Cale loves his newfound family so much he speedran the war with White Star in UNDER A YEAR!! And that's just for his family! You cannot tell me he hasn't also fallen in love with his new (well what was supposed to be his really) home world. He is literally tracking down and annihilating the Hunters who are in other worlds because they keep going after his in part 2. Don't tell me that isn't love! It also doesn't help that, no matter how much he denies it, Cale gets attached fairly easily. He wants people around him to love who love him in return.

GIVE THIS MAN SOME HUGS!

Anyways, I think I have rambled long enough. Hope ya’ll enjoyed this!

Brief interest check: how would ya’ll feel if I posted some creative prompts for writing, drawing, etc.? Lemme know however you want.

@elaemae hope you liked it!

[arcane-vagabond]

Singing in the Sanctuary: Prologue

Singing in the Sanctuary: Prologue

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw is a simple man. Well, as simple as one can be while living a life of crime. The notorious outlaw has never been interested in settling down and having a family, but will that all change when he meets a shy, new teacher who just moved into town?

Warnings: Pressure from parents, use of y/n, other than that I don't think there are any, really.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I am equally excited to be writing this one as I am my Hangman series. I think y'all will like this one too. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. You can find this and my other works on AO3 under arcane_vagabond. 18+ only!!!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

Women weren’t meant to have careers. Woman were meant to cook, clean, have babies, and make sure their husbands were taken care of. Then you became an old woman and one day you’d be buried next to said husband. At least, that’s what your parents had always told you. When they found out that you were pursuing a career as a teacher, they tried everything in their power to convince you otherwise.

“It’s just not proper for a young lady of your background to have a career, y/n” said your mother.

“I’ve had suitors asking for you hand for years now. Why don’t you get married and then think about continuing your education?” your father had coaxed. You couldn’t be swayed, however.

It had been your dream from a young age to become a teacher. You had always admired the ones you had growing up, and learning had always come easy to you. You wanted others to experience the joys of learning like you had, and that’s how you found yourself ignoring your parents’ wishes.

It had certainly been hard work, but it was work you were proud of. When you graduated, your parents had been more relieved than proud.

“Surely you’ll find a husband now, darling,” your father had said hopefully. Your mother nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, sweetheart! My friends have the most dashing sons who would just love-”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Mama, Papa, please-”

“We just want what’s best for you,” your father said hurriedly. You grimaced, but in the end you had allowed your mother to set up several luncheons with your would-be suitors. They hadn’t been horrible. No, in another life, perhaps you would have even been excited at the idea of marrying one of them. Settling down in a spacious, white house with blue shutters. A white picket fence encompassing the yard, and little ones running around joyfully while your husband and you looked on. And it’s not like that wasn’t your dream. No, in fact, you wanted all of that. But your dream also included teaching.

It was hard finding a job in your hometown in Missouri. And that’s why you had jumped at the chance to move west. You hadn’t told your parents about the opportunity, and for good reason. They would have stopped at nothing to keep you from going. You had stumbled upon this chance of fate when you had stopped by the general store to by ingredients for supper that evening.

“Maverick’s not a city, mind you,” said the old man as he dropped the box of fresh produce onto the counter by the clerk. “But it’s got character, and it’s growin’ every day! The mayor is even talkin’ bout buildin’ a school here soon. Told me to spread the word that we’re lookin’ for a new teacher.”

“Excuse me,” you had interrupted. Both men turned to look at you. “Could you tell me more about this job?”

“Well, it’s a real good opportunity, now, miss,” grinned the old man. “The town ain’t that old, and like I said, it’s gettin’ bigger every day. The townsfolk is all friendly and the mayor is offerin’ up a fair wage.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “And where is this town? Is it far?”

“It’s located out in the territory they’re callin’ New Mexico. It’s ‘bout a week’s ride from here to there.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, feeling giddy at the thought of trekking west.

“How long will you be in town, sir?” you ask. The man scratches his chin thoughtfully before leveling you with a look.

“I’ll tell you what,” he began, “I’ll stick around for another day. If you decide you wanna catch a ride with me back to Maverick, you jus’ meet me by the gate leadin’ outta town ‘round noon. How’s that?”

You grinned. “Thank you, sir.”

You had packed your bags quickly, waiting until both of your parents had left the house the following day. You wrote a note explaining why you were leaving and where you were going, and then gave one last look at the house you’d called home your entire life. Taking a steadying breath, you made your way down to the gate the man had mentioned.

“Good timin’!” he hollered upon seeing you. “Was jus’ about to head on out.”

“Thank you for waiting!” you called breathlessly, setting your bags on the back of the cart and rounding to the front. The man offered you a hand as you clambered up onto the seat, and once he had made himself comfortable, the two of you were on your way.

The days passed quickly as you and the man, Hondo you would come to find out is his name, made your way to your new beginning. The heat became more intense the further south you traveled, and luscious green gave way to arid desert. On your second day of being in the desert, you saw the outlines of a town in the distance.

“There she is!” grinned Hondo. “Ol’ Maverick herself!”

“How exciting!” you smiled. About a half hour later, the two of you were riding along the streets of said town. People bustled up and down the streets and went about their business as usual. Joel stopped the cart just outside of a large, wooden building.

“This here is town hall,” he said. “I’ll getcha in to see Maverick, and he’ll getcha situated.”

Your brows furrowed. “Maverick?”

“Pete Mitchell is his name, but most folks ‘round here just call him Maverick or Mav. He founded the town, and it’s named after him.”

“I see,” you breathed, taking Hondo’s hand as he helped you down onto the ground. He walked with you up the steps and through the door of town hall.

“Hondo!” cried a man as you both entered. The man was handsome with dark hair that greyed around his temples. His skin was golden from what you could only assume was hours spent in the desert sun, and his blue eyes sparkled with joy at the sight of your companion.

“Maverick,” smiled Hondo. The man, Maverick, stopped before you two and his eyes glanced over you.

“And who is this here with you?”

“Mav,” started Hondo, stepping back to gesture at you, “allow me to introduce Miss y/n. She’s here to be our town’s new teacher.”

“Excellent!” grinned Maverick, taking your hand and giving it a firm shake. “You’re really helping us out here. I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you smiled. “Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

“Nonsense! Now, I’m assuming you don’t have a place to stay at the moment?”

“No,” you blushed, looking down sheepishly. “I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Maverick beamed. “Well, until we can get the school and a house for you built, you’ll just have to stay with me and my wife, Penny.”

“Oh, Mr. Mitchell, I couldn’t!” You exclaimed. Maverick raises a hand to stop you.

“Please, call me Maverick or Mav. And I insist. It’s the least we can offer considering you came all this way.”

You smiled gratefully. “I appreciate that, Maverick. In the meantime, where am I to teach the children?”

“For now, why don’t you teach our little rascals in the sanctuary of the church? I’m sure the Reverend won’t mind.”

“That sounds lovely,” you gushed. You couldn’t wait for the start of your new life.

[rustingcat]

Enchanted 

"I'm in love with you Lena Luthor."

The words echoed in Lena's head, as she desperately tried to connect any sense into them. A love confession was the last thing she expected that Sunday morning. Her first instincts were to dismiss it, write it off as a joke or an exaggerated friendly comment, but Kara's sincere gaze told her otherwise. It rooted her in place, unsure what to do.

"Lena?" Kara's voice came out worried. "Well, I suppose you don't have to say anything, but you're making me kinda nervous. Please, just say something."

Lena opened her mouth to talk, but came up empty. Lena realised with horror that she had no idea what to do next, she had lost control of the situation. She felt as if she was drifting in space with no anchor to keep her grounded, and it was terrifying.

What were her options? She tried to gather all of her wits to figure out the correct course of action. She could just say no and walk away, Kara would no doubt be hurt, yet she didn't think she would back away from their plan of joint parenthood. They would continue to live together, that is until Kara would no doubt find someone else, move in with them and live a happy life without her. Terrible outcome for her, yet very clear and predictable. A future she could somewhat control.

On the other hand she could say yes. Reveal her own feelings, open herself up and let herself live the life she wanted. That was the journey she was on after all, yet it could lead to so many unpredictable scenarios; Kara could realise that her feelings were not as deep and leave, they could end up not working as a couple leaving them with a constant weird awkwardness that could be unpredictable by itself, they could break up after years in a big couple's fight that would tear them apart, or they could be happy with the usual bumps in the road. All of it seemed so random and unpredictable, just thinking about it made her feel the reins of control slipping from her grasp.

Kara's eyes seemed so valuable, so open and full of love and care. She was her best friend, her most cherished ally, the mother of their future children and the love of her life.

"Lena?" Kara asked again in a small voice.

Magic was a complicated thing to practice. She felt so free letting herself dive into it, like it was a part of life that was missing for so long and she finally found it, but it was dangerous and highly unpredictable. Learning it, she tried to take small steps, keeping everything low stakes, small and controlled until she was ready for more. One hundred percent ready for more. But the book made it a constant point to remind her that magic was not about control, it was about letting go and directing the flow. Control was the thing that was holding her back. Holding her back in many aspects of her life. Maybe it was finally time to let some of it go.

Fuck it.

Lena leaned forward to finally connect their lips together. Kara seemed startled at first, but her surprise quickly subsided as she began kissing her back with matching enthusiasm, reaching up to grasp her hips to draw her closer. Lena reached to cup Kara's face with each hand, deepening the kiss as she caressed her cheek.

She got lost in the kiss, letting herself be consumed by Kara's touches and her heat, directing every ounce of emotion she had into it. They separated to breathe, foreheads touching as they panted heavily. 

They stayed in that moment, catching their breaths, while holding each other close, not saying a thing. Once they got their breathing under control, Kara lifted Lena's cupped face to meet her gaze. Lena couldn't help but smile, a shy smile that slowly spread, encompassing her entire face, Kara matched her like a mirror. 

"How do you feel?" Kara checked.

How could she even begin to describe it? She felt the heat running through her body, the fluttering butterflies in her stomach, the racing heart in her chest along with the spreading lightness and warmth, and something more… something she couldn't really describe.

"Enchanted," she answered simply. She felt a surge from the unexplainable feeling run through her as Kara's smile grew. That is until her now empty coffee mug suddenly burst in flames that disappeared in an instance. "Quite literally," she said, still shocked from the unexpected magical burst.

Kara's smile slowly turned into chuckles that gradually grew into full on laughter. Held tightly in each other’s arms in their own home, they just laughed.

Once they got their breathing back in order, their chuckles subsiding, Lena finally found the strength to say the words that have been sitting on the edge of her tongue for so long . "I love you, too. I love you so much Kara Zor-El Danvers."

Kara kissed her again, and again until the only thought in her head was Kara.

"Wait," Kara broke the kiss. "Should we… Should we talk some more?" She asked unsure.

"Um…" Lena tried to calm her racing heart and the heat that was spreading throughout her body. If Kara could be brave enough to talk she should be able to do the same, Lena owed it to her. Not to mention that talking was something they've been failing at consistently and it was probably a time to change that. "Yes. Let's talk." Lena nodded and gestured to the table under the mountain of food they were sitting beside just moments ago.

"Yes. Cool. Awesome." Kara mumbled as she sat down. "So…" she started.

"So…?"

"Um… will, I mean, if you want that is – um, do you wanna go out with me? Like on a date?" Kara barely breathed as she stumbled on her question.

Lena tried to suppress the growing grin that spread on her lips. It was ridiculous how nervous Kara was considering their heartfelt love confessions they just exchanged, not to mention the heated make out sessions. She didn't want Kara to think she was laughing at her, but she was just so adorable that Lena couldn't help herself.

"Yes," she giggled. "Kara, if you had any doubt, I want you. I want to be with you." She tried to reassure her.

"I want to do it properly." Kara insisted.

"Kara, we're living together and have twins coming in just a couple of months, proper went out the window ages ago."

"I…" Kara's face turned bright red, it really shouldn't have been so charming. "Ah, yeah," she chuckled. "We really haven't done anything in order."

"Nope." Lena laughed. "I do need you to promise me something."

"Of course, anything."

"I need to know if you're committed to this. To us. This can't be a causal thing Kara. It means too much for me, you mean too much for me."

"Lena, you're it for me. I've never been surer of anything in my life. I'd marry you right now if I could."

"We should probably go out on a date first." It was a small deflect, but Lena's body went through so many warm and positive emotions, she wasn't sure she could handle more without turning into a puddle.

"Haha, yes. Probably best. Do you have a preferred place you want to go? I think we've exhausted most restaurants in town."

"Hm…" Lena hummed and took out another scone. She spread it with some butter and jam and was about to take a bite out of the delightful deliciousness, when a thought occurred to her. "How about out of town?"

"Sure, wherever you want to go."

"It is my turn to ask, fancy a trip to Ireland?"

[sound-of-god]

[Disclaimer: English is not my first language)

"Whispers on the Wind"

- Venti a Mysterious bard

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

The wind in Mondstadt was never still, but tonight, it howled. Not the gentle, playful breeze that carried songs through the streets, but something colder. Something ancient.

Aether pulled his cloak tighter as he walked the empty paths leading out of the city, past the towering statue of the Anemo Archon. Paimon, for once, was silent, hovering close to his shoulder. They were searching for Venti.

The bard had vanished earlier that evening, slipping away from the tavern mid-laugh, his half-finished drink abandoned. No one seemed concerned—Venti was known for his whims—but Aether had noticed something strange in his eyes. A distant look, like he was listening to something no one else could hear.

Now, standing atop a cliff that overlooked Starfell Lake, Aether finally found him. Venti stood at the edge, his back turned, his long braids swaying with the unnatural gusts. The sky churned above, storm clouds forming where there had been none before.

"Venti?" Aether called out, hesitating.

The bard didn’t turn. Instead, his voice came, distant yet all-encompassing. "Do you know what the wind remembers, Traveler?"

Aether stepped closer, suddenly aware of how much colder it had become. "What do you mean?"

Venti chuckled—a low, almost eerie sound. "It remembers everything."

The wind surged, spiraling around them. The trees groaned. Aether felt his breath catch as he swore he heard whispers within the gusts—voices, fragmented and ancient, speaking in a tongue he didn’t recognize.

"Do you hear them?" Venti asked, finally turning to face him. His eyes—usually so bright, so carefree—gleamed with something unreadable. Not malice. Not kindness. Just something vast. Something old.

"Who are they?" Aether whispered.

"The lost," Venti said simply. "Those who have perished beneath the sky, carried away by my winds. They all speak to me." He raised a hand, and the air pulsed. Aether shuddered as the whispers became clearer—pleas, laughter, cries of war. The echoes of history itself.

"Does that scare you?" Venti tilted his head, a slow smile curving his lips.

Aether swallowed. "I just… didn’t think you—"

"Were just a bard?" Venti finished for him. He sighed, looking out over the horizon. "I wear that face because it’s easier. People like songs. They like jokes. They don’t like to think about how the wind that soothes them can also tear cities apart."

His fingers flexed, and just for a moment, the wind turned razor-sharp, a violent gust slicing through the air. Aether took an instinctive step back.

Then, just as quickly, it was gone. The storm above faded, the breeze became soft again, and Venti smiled—his usual, carefree grin.

"Don't look so tense! I’m still your favorite drunk bard," he said, hopping down from the rock. "C’mon, let's go back before Paimon scolds us both."

Aether watched him, unsure what he had just witnessed. But as they walked, the wind curled around them, whispering still.

And for the first time, Aether wondered just how much of Venti’s true self he had ever really seen.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

So I've been so enamored with Venti these last few days, and I just love his character so much; it's so mysterious. ^^