#love and hope for a sailor far away from home
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This ivory relief represents Hope and Cupid looking after a ship. Inscribed beneath are the words: 'L'esperance nourrit L'amour' (Hope nourishes Love) Made in maybe France, probably Dieppe, and dating from the late eighteenth century.
#naval artifacts#naval art#cupid and hope#love and hope for a sailor far away from home#french#late 18th century#age of sail
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mad at me - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x afab reader
word count: 3.5k
tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, smut, unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), creampie, praise, spitting & choking (nothing crazy, i promise!), use of pet names (my girl, sweetheart, baby, princess, sweetheart), slight degradation (if you squint?)
summary: jack's latest game has tensions running high and feelings left unresolved. lucky for him, you know just the solution.
notes: so...this is happening 😭 this is very much inspired by the devils latest game against the kings where jack got pretty heated 😵💫 who doesn't love a bit of angry! jack? 🫣 but yes, as i've mentioned before, i don't usually write smut, so this may not be the best so any tips or comments you guys have to share would be much appreciated! 💗this has been partially edited, so if you see any errors along the way, they'll be fixed soon! as always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy! much love! <333
It takes a lot for Jack to get mad.
A sequence of events that all come to a boil, a mountain of incidents that snowball into an avalanche of his wrath. He’s so sweet, like sunny Sunday mornings that smell of fluffy pancakes and honey syrup - so, even now, so far into your relationship, you’re aware that moments like these occur. Of course, emotions wear thin like tired socks and you’re no stranger to your own and Jack’s that have seen all shades of the rainbow, but perhaps there’s something in the air, some electricity that changes the wiring of your brain because tonight is so different from the rest. Dissimilar from when you leave Jack be when his big emotions demand their place, unlike how you wrap each other in blankets of comfort when tensions have eased and everything is whole again. Because, again, this is not about you. It’s about Jack and how, as the universe has written it to be, gravity pulls straight towards him.
Things have been good - he’s come back from injury, back to his kingdom on the ice and the Devils have won back to back games - truly unheard of during their current season, beating their last opponent in regulation for the first time since 2009. It’s a big deal - the smile on Jack’s face says so, the satisfaction of his tone indicating so when he’s come back from his away games. So, you want this happiness to continue, because you love him and the happiness he illuminates but at the end of the day, his job is hockey. A coin toss of wins and losses that you’re trying to wrap your head around because you’re biassed and see all the commitment that him and his teammates put in everyday. As a result of this, Thursday happens; a dice roll of events that spiral into chaos.
You’re back home in Jersey, comfortably situated on the couch in the warmth of an ending winter that shows peaks of an upcoming spring. You’ve got popcorn in your lap because you’ve rediscovered how much you love the savoury snack, happily munching away as Jack’s game starts and the adrenaline kicks in. The first period is eventful with many saves that have you clawing at the couch, but then the second period starts and all hell breaks loose. Tensions run high and as level-headed as Jack is, he is not immune to agitation - subjected to a nasty hit into the boards, the opposing player purposely banging his elbow into Jack’s head. You’re about to start yelling at your TV screen like some drunken sailor because Jack’s been injured this season and doesn’t need more time away from what he loves, but Jack decides to get his lick back and you’re automatically silenced. Your jaw drags the length of the floor as you watch him crosscheck the hell out the guy, proceeding to rough the player up before referees interfere. Jack and the guy are arguing back and forth as they’re escorted into their teams’ penalty boxes and you’re just left bewildered, a mess of emotions with wide eyes as your stomach turns.
You watch astounded as Jack flushes in his temporary plastic home, eyes wide at he hurtles comments that leave the opposing player with a sour taste in his mouth. Jack’s shaking his head when he’s gotten what he needs off his chest, wiping away his sweat as his anger grinds to a simmer. Your eyes are glued to the TV, perched on the edge of your seat as your heart beats hard in your bruising chest. The power play continues on but you’re lost in a trance, awaiting Jack’s emergence from the penalty box that can’t come soon enough. Once he’s out, he’s sprinting for the puck and manages to get a breakaway that assures New Jersey a goal, but the loser in the penalty box with him is hot on his heels and Jack misses. He’s fuming once again, ranting to the referee that pays him no mind. Jack skates off, smashing his stick against the glass before he’s back on the bench and completely snaps it in half, a string of profanities leaving his lips.
You sit there in awe, your grinding teeth sinking into the flesh of your fingers as your brain becomes an all-consuming pile of filth. Your precious boy, who loves his three hour long naps and looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky, the hopeless romantic who pulls out all the stops for you simply because you deserve it and who holds you as if you’re fine china - he’s almost unrecognisable now, wearing his emotions like the number of his jersey as his expression pinches and his azure eyes narrow. A rush of emotions you both experience that make a home in the chaos of your minds that long leave the remnants of their havoc.
The clatter of Jack’s hockey bag echoes from the doorway, bringing you out of the syrupy daze you’ve been submerged in far too long. You leap off the couch as your body carries you towards the front door, electricity rippling down the ridges of your spine as your skin tingles with the unknown. You keep your emotions at bay for the time being, unsure of what state Jack may be in as you creep around the corner and catch an eyeful of his demeanour - blinding annoyance. An exasperated sigh pushes from his chest as he slips off his trusted beanie, the ruffle of his wet curls bouncing as his fingers card through his hair. You gulp.
“Ro?” you test the waters - short and sweet just to gauge his reaction, anticipation hanging in the air.
“Hey.” he bites, not bothering with looking your way as he shimmies his coat off with more force than necessary.
You gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling helpless. “I saw the game…”
“The one I almost got fucking injured in?” he chirps, looking at you now with a pointed stare that burns with all the fire in his heart. No longer azure, his eyes singe with an almost midnight hue. “What a shitshow.”
“That was a dangerous hit, that guy’s got whatever’s coming to him,” you’re quick to reply, taking small steps towards Jack who hangs up his coat. “But that doesn’t change the fact that people pay to watch you play.”
Jack stills in his movements, figure unmoving momentarily before his eyes throw you a lasting glance, the beginnings of a smirk working amongst his roseate features. “So, you heard?”
You blush under the heat of his undivided attention, gaze averted as you fumble with the hem of the hockey jersey on you. “Not necessarily.”
“Then what did you hear, baby?” he queries immediately, shifting so that his body now faces yours, an arm resting against the coat hanger as he sizes you up, unabashed and assertive.
Your stomach flips, the race of your heart undeniable. “You’ve got a mouth on you, so it’s easy to read lips.”
You’re chirping, working under his skin in a way that maintains some form of respect but has all the intentions of riling him up, which manifests into the beast you wish to see. A cocked eyebrow and a ticked jaw, flashes of disbelief flickering on his face. Once more, your emotions bear the weight of an anchor as excitement conjures up the swirl in your stomach, your masquerade crumbling at the seams as your nostrils flare, biting back a shit-eating grin.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he questions with a hint of humour, because he knows you like the back of his hand. You give him no response, preoccupied with suppressing the misplaced giggle that threatens to leave your lips. “I can’t believe this.”
The seams fully come undone, a snicker or two bypassing your lips as you retreat from the situation, ending up with your back against the door leading to the basement with Jack hot on your heels. Mirth bathes you in delight and you let it, a plethora of chuckles falling into your hand as you avert your gaze whilst Jack forgets any concept of personal space. Perhaps you’re deserving of whatever damnation comes your way, a punishment you’ve fully brought upon yourself, but when your senses fill with the waft of Jack’s earthy musk cologne and the remnants of his apple shampoo, accompanied by the warmth of his body that leans towards yours, you can’t bring yourself to feel a shred of regret.
His arm, enveloped by his raven black dress shirt, raises as he cages you in, vulnerable and at his mercy. “What else did I say, since you can read lips and all?”
This is a circus of words, meaning riddled in optical illusions that would have someone think none the wiser. Except this is yours and Jack’s circus, an act tailored for two that entertains your minds that run wild. A wildness you feed off as you meet him with the same decisiveness.
“This number,” you start, pointing towards the digits printed on your sleeve belonging to him. “86 is what people go to see - sorry, pay to see.”
You’re not really sorry, the smirk on your face says otherwise. “I think I said a lot more than that, sweetheart.”
“Besides all the huffing and puffing,” his tongue pokes at his cheek, a playful smirk betraying his flaring emotions. “You asked if he was there to play or to hurt people - fair point to make.”
“And all the others weren’t?” Jack’s moved closer, his thigh situating itself between the gap of your legs.
You bite your tongue at the friction. “You know the answer to that.”
“Maybe,” his caging arm leaves the door, the web of his hand sat against your chin as he holds your face, maintaining the same fiery gaze that unravels you altogether. “But, it’d be better coming from you.”
“Jack,” he’s flexed his thigh, your hand reaching for the button on his dress shirt as you wane in defeat. “Please.”
“I don’t follow.”
Your bawled fist meets his stacked chest. “Don’t play dumb.”
Jack chuckles, holding all power in the palm of his hand. “I’m just confused as to why my pants are wet.”
To prove his point, he draws his thigh away because he’s a selfish bastard and shows you the damp spot you’ve left after his thigh made its way between your legs. The shame that washes over you is unbearable.
Jack’s cold hands find themselves underneath the material of his jersey, one hand dancing along the outline of your underwear with a finger hanging over the top of the seam. “Oh, what to do with you.”
He’s such a tease, his ego large and in charge as you’ve long forgotten any sense of game at hand as your eyes pool with only an anguish he can extinguish. “Fuck me, please.”
“Why?” his tone light and airy, his finger hooked around the seam of your underwear as the material leaves your skin
You shiver at the breeze, eyes closed as your weak fist manages to grapple onto some material of his shirt. “Because, I need you and I think that goes both ways.”
The band of your underwear snaps against your stomach as Jack retrieves his hand, head cocked to the side as he considers the weight of your words with a locked jaw. Your teeth are sinking into the plumpness of your bottom lip, nothing but pleading in your eyes as you gaze up at him with all you can muster.
His hand lays against your cheek, thumb automatically caressing the skin - a touch that you not only lean into, but shiver towards. “Get upstairs.”
This is a fairly new playing field for you two - a game of cat and mouse that brings out an unfamiliar side to you, so foreign in nature that you second guess your desires and where your lust leads you. Jack doesn’t allow for any hesitation though, hand in hand with you as he comes into himself too. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips that lift, a soft smile surfacing amongst his features before you’re headed upstairs in a flash, scurrying towards your bedroom with a trail of your clothes left in your wake.
Jack doesn’t take long to meet you upstairs, his pinstripe blazer removed as he unfastens his tie around his neck. He spares you a lingering glance as you lay sheepishly on the bed perched on your elbows, legs ajar as your folds glisten in the soft bedroom light. Jack quickly rids himself of his clothing, slipping his boxers off to reveal his hard on. A comfortable length with all the girth to fulfil you, tip flushed pink as it brims with precum. It takes everything in you not to sink to your knees and fill your mouth with his cock.
As he approaches the bed, he motions for you to turn around and you do so with no questions asked, back arched as you wait in anticipation as you feel the bed dip with his presence. Jack comes up behind you, body so incredibly close yet somehow so far away as his hands make contact with your burning skin, giving the flesh on your back a brief massage. A surprised hum vibrates in your chest as Jack drags a single finger along the dip of your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he adjusts himself behind you, to which you push your ass back against his hard on.
“Stop teasing.” you sound more desperate than intended, cheek squished into your cool silk pillow.
“Can’t admire my girl before I fuck her?” The nonchalance of his tone draws a mewl out of you, your hips jutting as they search for any more contact. “Besides,”
Hands resting against the mould of your hips, one shifts as you feel his cold index finger draw in between your folds, fingertips swirling around your clit. You moan brokenly, body curling into itself. “You’re just here to take it, aren’t you, princess?”
You’re nodding before your brain can even compute his words, humming along to accentuate your point as his fingertips continue to swirl along the shape of your clit. It’s too much and not enough - a tug of war of sorts that makes your hips rock into Jack, an action that at one point, has his tip catching against your wet entrance. A hiss from behind you sounds as you grapple onto the pillow beside you.
Jack’s hand leaves you high and dry, but alias, his patiences dissipates into the night sky as he glides into you in one smooth motion, robbing you of your breath and sanity as your mouth gapes open and eyes roll. Sinking into the mattress, your spread legs accommodate for the snap of Jack’s hips as he starts to fuck you from behind, your back curving as you gladly take everything he’s offering. Face mangled into your hoard of pillows, your fingers cling to the duvet for some kind of security, at the mercy of Jack who pleases you in all the way he knows how.
“How hard do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, maybe genuinely because his strength seems somehow restricted, but you’re keening high in your throat at how filthy his words fall from his rosy lips so easily.
“Harder,” you plead, losing yourself in the pleasure as your one hand shuffles to rub against your neglected clit. “Harder, please.”
And, he obliges, bullying his cock into you as you gasp at the impact. A smack lands against your ass, the supple surface sizzling as your hips retract, Jack’s ironclad grip holding you from escaping any further as his fingers make indents into your skin like notches in a bedpost.
“Hang on,” his pace slows, breath laboured as you feel him pull out of you reluctantly. “Turn around. I need to see you.”
You squirm against the sheets, easily complying with Jack’s wishes that suit you, your body turning as your sweaty-layered back sticks to the duvet. In the dimmed light of your bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Jack, whose wet curls fall in all the right places and how every outline of his well-built body drives you wild. You catch the shallow rises of his chest and the flush against his cheeks and as he tucks stray strands of hairs behind his ears, his hands find purchase at your thighs and draw you closer. It’s when he looks into your eyes, shameless in the pleasure written all over his face as he pushes into you again that you think you could never get tired of this view.
Your walls mould to the shape of his cock, sucking him in entirely as you both moan at the feeling. To add fuel to the fire, Jack decides to unfold your legs and hoist them over his shoulders, the new angle burying him even deeper and bringing you closer to the edge. A huff of amusement sounds from Jack as he peers down at your parted lips, wasting no time in fucking you into the mattress as the bed creaks underneath the pressure. His earlier annoyance rears its head in his movements, unsettled irritation laced in the impact of his thrusts, your cunt leaking all around him as he pounds into you relentlessly. So close in proximity, Jack takes the opportunity to caress your cheek, a sweet gesture as your breath hitches, all before his hand slowly drifts down towards your neck. An affirmative nod from you is he needs to tighten his grip, your brewing orgasm intensifying tenfold as he maintains all the eye contact to make you shudder.
He’s balls deep in you, each hard thrust punctuated by the smack of the wooden headboard against the bedroom wall. You feel him all around you like some wicked embrace: in your stomach, your lungs and around your throat, the snug clasp his calloused hand holds against your pressure points lolling your mouth open, gasping at the sheer intensity stewing within you.
Jack takes the opportunity, wet curls stuck to his forehead, leaning closer as he spits directly into your mouth, as he does onto the ice throughout his games. Something twists violently in you, back arching off the bed as your lips fall close to moan from the deepest parts within you, the taste of Jack on your tongue.
“Taking me like such a good girl,” he praises, your reflection plentiful in his eyes. “If I’d known you liked this, would have done it a long time ago.”
Everything begins to blur at the edges like an old photograph, bliss engulfing you in its heavenly fire as your skin shimmers with sweat and your nails scrape at Jack’s shoulder - a futile attempt to regain control that had been long lost, your bodies movement forgotten as you squirm and shiver all over.
Oxygen courses back into your deprived lungs as Jack releases his grip, burning hand against your cheek as his thumb brushes your cheekbone, catching your fluttering eyelashes. “I got you, baby. Got you, princess.”
“Never been fucked,” a whimper escapes when Jack notches that spongy spot that buries your nails into his skin, “like this. Feels-fuck, good.”
He laughs lightly, pace stuttering yet hitting all the right places. “Love giving my pretty girl what she wants,”
You clench around him, embedding your nails into the flesh of his back as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, gaze scattered. “And my pretty girl wants to come, don’t you?”
He poses the rhetorical question with a mean pinch at your clit before pushing a heavy hand down on your lower stomach, the pressure accelerating you towards your fast-approaching orgasm. The sounds pour out of you like a waterfall, eyebrows furrowed as you plead with begging eyes. “Kiss me?”
“Whatever you want, baby.” he breathes, almost whiny as his hand circles around your nape, your figure floating as your lips collide in a messy embrace, rhythm unmatched as your yearning seeps through your teeth.
Jack captures all your moans in his mouth, the new angle of his thrusts adding to the sloppiness of your wet kiss. The smack of his stuttering hips knocks against your clit in a way that has you seeing beyond, swallowed whole by his galaxy of stars as he gives you one last jerky thrust, teeth nipping at your bottom lip to undo you. Frayed at the seams, you come undone, unravelling in a mess that perfectly matches Jack as he quickly comes after you, coating your walls as your cunt spasms all around him as he rides out his high.
Once Jack’s shallow thrusts grind to a halt, he slowly pulls out a heavy sigh, locking eyes with you as he runs a finger down your sensitive cunt just to get a shiver out of you. Your eyebrows knit, a flare of annoyance mixed in with fatigue written across your face that draws a humoured snicker from your boyfriend. He collapses down next to you, a kiss pressed against your cheek before you both aimlessly stare up at the ceiling.
Amusement tugs at the corners of your lips. “You should get angry more often.”
“I was just about to say the same thing.” agrees Jack, laughter making its home between you two as nothing but sweetness lingers in the air.
“Come on,” he urges, his hand nudging yours, body prying itself off your bed as he goes to stand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
#jh86#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes fic#jack hughes smut#jack hughes imagine#nhl smut#jack hughes#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#residenthughes
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Hihi!
I just read your rules, so I hope this request follows them:
Could I request an leviathan!merman x fem reader? I'm not super picky about the details of his appearance, so you can have fun with that.
I'm thinking, maybe, reader is prisoner on a pirate ship and leviathan!merman attacks and sinks the ship because it constantly disturbs the water of his territory. He finds reader, realizes he almost killed an innocent captive, and shenanigans ensue from there. He takes her home with him to take care of her while she recovers from the imprisionment/his attack since it's too far to safely take her back to shore, much less a shore she knows. His underwater cave has an airpocket/above-sea level entrance as well as the main entrance; how lucky and convenient, amirite?😅
Maybe he's slightly awkward and it makes him seem detached and scary...
I'm hoping for fluffy with a smidgen of spice or smut at the end?
Thank you in advance if you decide to write this!🫶
holy shit this was insane i love you
merman x fem! reader fluff and smut
warnings/tags- short smut peice at the end, fem reader, monster x human, mentions of imprisonment, i gave him a name at the end
word count- 3727 words (im tired)
The salt-laden air was suffocating. The relentless waves rocked the creaking pirate ship as it cut through the waters, a prison you couldn't escape. Days had passed since your capture, and you were bruised, sore, and tired from the confinement. The crew barely acknowledged your existence beyond the scraps of food they tossed your way. They were focused on something else, something beyond the horizon that kept them nervous and on edge.
One of the older pirates muttered about a sea demon—a creature that hunted ships around these waters. You thought it was nothing more than sailors’ superstition, but as the air turned heavy and the sea became unnaturally still, an eerie sensation crawled down your spine. The crew became frantic. Eyes darted toward the water, watching for something. You couldn’t tell what.
It happened fast. The once-still water erupted into chaos, and the ship shuddered violently as if something enormous had collided with it. Men screamed weapons were drawn, but none of it mattered. The sea itself had risen against them. Waves higher than any you'd ever seen crashed down, tearing the ship apart. You were thrown across the deck, striking the mast hard, the air rushing out of your lungs as darkness claimed you.
---
When you awoke, the world felt different. The coldness of the water had soaked through every part of you, the sensation both numbing and alarming. You blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, but nothing made sense. The sea still roared, but you weren’t drowning.
You were… floating? Treading?
Something—or someone—had you in its grasp. Panic surged through you, and you tried to twist away, only for the grip around you to tighten, keeping you still. Then you felt it—scales. The slick, cool texture brushed against your skin as a powerful tail swam you through the water with ease. You struggled, coughing up saltwater, your limbs heavy and useless.
A voice, deep and foreign, hummed in the water. “Don’t… fight.” The words were broken but clearer than you expected. You tried to crane your neck, to see what held you, but before you could make sense of the situation, you were lifted above the water.
The night sky greeted you once more, stars shimmering against the black ocean. But it wasn’t the stars that took your breath away. As your vision focused, you were pulled into the shallow confines of a cavern. Rock formations loomed above, sharp and jagged, and the faint glow of bioluminescent algae clung to the cave walls, casting an ethereal light across the scene.
Then you saw him.
The creature holding you was enormous. His upper body was humanoid but covered in dewy scales, glistening under the faint light. His skin was a mix, inky gunmetal grey and Cerulean blue, blending with the shadows and the sea. The scales grew rougher around his neck and joints, trailing down to the massive tail that curved behind him. His eyes, glowing with an eerie gold hue, met yours, unblinking and intense.
A sea-creature.
The pirate tales weren’t lies.
He moved carefully, setting you down on a small ledge that jutted out of the water inside the cave. You coughed again, your body shaking as the cold air hit your wet skin. For a moment, the creature just stared at you, his eyes scanning over your form with something you couldn’t place. Was it curiosity? Guilt? You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t the mindless aggression you'd expected from the stories.
"Pretty… girl," he whispered, the words hesitant as his voice echoed in the cavern.
Your heart pounded in your chest, fear mixing with confusion. Why had he saved you? Had he been the one to destroy the ship? The silence between you stretched on, uncomfortable and thick. You opened your mouth to speak but hesitated, unsure if you wanted to know the answer to your questions.
He shifted awkwardly, his long tail curling into itself as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. The leviathan’s hands, large and clawed, flexed as he tried to mimic human gestures. He brought one to his chest as if trying to calm you. His voice was gruff and halting. “Hurt..?”
You swallowed, trying to find your voice. "I... I was a prisoner."
The leviathan frowned, his expression twisting as if he was processing your words. He pointed to himself. "I… destroy..Save you." he spoke blankly
Your mind reeled. He had attacked the ship. He had killed everyone on board—pirates, yes, but also human beings. And yet here he was, trying to help you. There was no malice in his expression, only an awkward uncertainty, like he wasn't used to interacting with anyone, let alone a human.
“I…” You stammered, feeling small under his gaze. “Why?”
His head tilted, brow furrowing. He seemed to struggle with the question, trying to find the words. "Innocent," he finally murmured. "No kill… innocent."
You wanted to believe him. But trust didn’t come easily when you’d just been ripped from one terrifying situation and thrown into another. “You killed them all,” you whispered, your voice shaking.
The leviathan’s eyes darkened, his tail thrashing slightly in the water, sending ripples across the surface. “They… disturbed…” His hand clenched into a fist before he loosened it again, trying to maintain his composure. “This… my home. They hurt… water. Hurt… sea.”
You blinked, processing his words. He was a protector of these waters, not a mindless monster. He had been defending his territory. The pirates had angered him and threatened his home. And in his attempt to drive them away, he had nearly taken you with them.
“I didn’t mean to be there,” you said, your voice softer now. “They captured me.”
He nodded slowly, his golden eyes never leaving yours. There was a strange kind of innocence to him despite his monstrous appearance, like he was trying to understand, trying to make sense of the situation as much as you were. “I… care for you. You are safe… here.”
You looked around the cave, the glow from the algae creating an otherworldly atmosphere. The air pocket allowed you to breathe, and while the water was cold, the rock beneath you was dry. For now, you were safe.
But how long would you be here? How far from the land were you? Your thoughts spiralled, and before you could stop yourself, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were stranded in an underwater cave with a creature who had just destroyed an entire ship, and you had no idea what would happen next.
Seeing your distress, the leviathan made a low sound, a soft chirping noise that seemed almost out of place for something his size. He inched closer, his movements slow and deliberate as if trying not to scare you. “Safe… now,” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper.
Your body trembled, a mix of cold and exhaustion taking over, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. You were too weak to respond, and as your vision blurred, you caught a final glimpse of the leviathan’s concerned gaze.
“Rest,” he murmured, his deep voice the last thing you heard before the darkness took you once more.
---
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you awoke again. The cave was still, the water lapping gently at the edges of the rocks. Your body ached, but the sharp pains from earlier had dulled to a manageable throb. As you stirred, you noticed the leviathan watching you from the water, his upper body resting on the edge of the ledge.
“You… awake,” he said, a hint of relief in his tone.
You pushed yourself up slowly, wincing as your muscles protested. “Yeah,” you muttered, rubbing your forehead. “I’m awake.”
The leviathan studied you for a moment before shifting his weight and submerging partway into the water again. “No go… back to land,” he said, his voice low but clearer than before. “Too far. Too… dangerous.”
You frowned. “Then what do I do? Just… stay here?”
He looked almost embarrassed, his golden eyes darting away from yours. “For now. I… help. You stay safe.”
It wasn’t an ideal solution, but what choice did you have? You were miles from land, and even if you could swim back, there was no guarantee you’d survive the journey.
As the days passed, the initial fear that had consumed you began to ebb away, replaced by something you couldn’t quite define. The leviathan, whom you had come to think of simply as "him," seemed to be doing everything in his power to make you feel safe. Every day, he brought you food from the sea—fish, clams, seaweed—arranging it in neat little piles on the dry ledge of the cave where you rested. It wasn’t long before you stopped seeing him as a monster. He had saved you, after all. And there was a gentleness in his awkwardness, an effort to communicate that made you feel like you weren’t just some stranded victim in a strange land.
He never wandered too far, always returning with something new—a small collection of smooth stones, intricately shaped shells, and occasionally, bones that had been bleached by the ocean. He would lay them down carefully in front of you, watching for your reaction with bright, expectant eyes. At first, you didn’t think much of it. He was probably just offering you things he thought might interest a human, but you noticed that he always seemed delighted when you picked them up, inspecting each one closely.
You had begun making a habit of it—admiring the shells, thanking him for the smooth, polished stones. His face would light up in a way you’d never seen before, his golden eyes flashing with that strange, bioluminescent glow that was becoming more familiar to you.
And it wasn’t just his gifts. His body language had started to shift in subtle ways. When he emerged from the water, the faint freckles along his face and shoulders glowed softly, but when you spoke to him or even smiled in his direction, they would brighten, casting more light into the dim cave. At first, you assumed it was a natural response to his emotions—perhaps a way for his kind to communicate. But then came the sounds. He chirped. He hummed. He made these low, rumbling noises deep in his chest that reverberated through the cave walls.
It was strange—almost endearing.
One day, after he had brought you a particularly beautiful shell—spiralled and iridescent—you smiled at him, running your fingers over its smooth surface. “It’s beautiful,” you said softly. “Thank you.”
The leviathan’s face lit up, his freckles flaring into an almost blinding brightness as he chirped happily. You chuckled, placing the shell in the small pile of treasures you had started keeping at your side.
“Do you have a name?” you asked him, curious if he could understand more complex language. “I mean… what should I call you?”
He blinked, his head tilting slightly. “Name…?” His voice was still halting, but he was getting better, and more confident with his words. “No… name.”
“Hmm.” You bit your lip, thinking. “Maybe I’ll give you one, then.”
His eyes widened slightly, glowing with interest.
You tapped a finger against your chin, trying to come up with something that suited him. Something powerful, but also kind. “How about... Kai? It means sea in a few languages.”
“Kai…” he repeated as if testing the word. Then, his face broke into a small smile, the glowing freckles on his cheeks pulsing rhythmically. “Kai… like.”
You couldn’t help but smile back. “Good. Kai it is.”
The days continued like this, with him bringing you more gifts and making those strange chirping noises whenever you accepted them. Sometimes he would linger nearby, watching you with a strange intensity that should have been unnerving but wasn’t. It was almost… sweet.
One evening, after he had brought you a particularly smooth stone—a dark, deep blue colour—you held it up to the faint light. “You have quite the eye for pretty things,” you said teasingly, glancing at him. His golden eyes glinted, and he made that low, rumbling hum again, the sound resonating in your chest.
You didn’t know when it started to happen, but somewhere along the way, you had stopped seeing him as just a creature of the deep. There was a tenderness in him, a genuine care for your well-being that warmed you in ways you hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just keeping you alive. He was trying to make you happy. And it was working.
You caught yourself watching him more often—how his muscles shifted beneath his dark, glistening skin, how his tail curled and flicked in the water when he was excited, how his glowing freckles pulsed in response to your laughter. And when he brought you something new, when he chirped at you or hummed softly, it made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
---
Kai didn’t fully understand it at first, but something had changed between the two of you. He could feel it. Every time you smiled at him or touched the gifts he brought you, something warm and bright filled his chest. It was more than happiness. It was... connection.
He had been practising the small rituals of his kind for days now, bringing you things he knew you would like—rocks, shells, even bones from deep within the sea. He had hoped you would understand what he was doing, even if it wasn��t something humans were used to. And when you accepted his gifts, when you smiled at him and thanked him, he felt like he was glowing from within. You were accepting him.
The colours in his bioluminescent freckles had grown brighter each day, especially when you were near. He could feel his body reacting to you—flashing brighter, chirping louder, humming more frequently. He had started making these sounds almost unconsciously, his excitement and affection bubbling up every time he was near you.
And then there was the moment when you said his name. Kai. A human name, but it fits. You had given him something special, something to define himself beyond just a creature of the deep. He had felt it then—an overwhelming urge to be closer to you, to protect you, to make you his.
---
You hadn’t realised it until later, but you had unknowingly been accepting his courting rituals. The smooth rocks, the shells, the soft chirping sounds—all of it had been Kai’s way of showing affection, of trying to bond with you. And you had accepted it with open arms, without even realising the significance of what you were doing.
One night, as you sat by the water’s edge, Kai was closer than usual, his large body half-submerged in the water. His golden eyes were fixed on you, his freckles glowing softly. You noticed how close he was, and how his massive form took up most of the space in the cave. But instead of feeling intimidated, you felt… comforted.
He chirped softly, his tail flicking in the water. "You… like?” he asked, his English much clearer now.
You glanced down at the latest gift he had given you—a perfectly polished piece of coral—and smiled. “I do. Thank you, Kai.”
His glowing freckles flared again, and the rumbling sound in his chest grew louder, more persistent. He was... happy. You could feel it radiating from him.
Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm where the scales were smoothest. His body tensed momentarily, his eyes widening as he looked at where your hand rested. But then, he relaxed, a soft, pleased chirp escaping him.
You weren’t sure when it happened, but you stopped seeing him as just a sea creature somewhere along the way. It was Kai. He was awkward and endearing, and despite your vast differences, he made you feel safe.
And as you looked into his glowing eyes, your heart beat faster in your chest. You had grown fond of him—maybe even more than fond.
Kai’s tail flicked in the water, and he shifted closer, his face just inches from yours. His freckles glowed brighter, casting the cave in a warm, ethereal light. “Pretty… girl,” he murmured, the words filled with a strange kind of awe.
You smiled, your hand still resting against his arm. "And you're not so bad yourself."
For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the sound of the ocean filling the space between you. But something had changed. There was a new understanding, a new bond. You weren’t just surviving together. You were connected.
And from the way Kai’s eyes shone, you could tell he felt it too.
As the soft light from Kai’s freckles pulsed gently around you, you felt his large form shift beside you. Before you could react, he lowered his head, nuzzling it under your chin with surprising tenderness. His skin was cool and smooth, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, though not from fear. You hesitated, then let your hand drift to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the strange but silky strands of his dark hair.
A low, content hum rumbled from him, vibrating against your chest. He was close—closer than he’d ever been before. The warmth of his presence, the gentle weight of his nuzzle, made your heart race, and yet... it felt right.
“Have… pups,” Kai murmured, his voice halting but filled with sincerity. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as his words slowly registered. “My… pups.”
It was then that everything clicked into place. The gifts, the soft chirping, the glowing freckles, his constant presence. This wasn’t just him being kind. This was more. **He loved you.**
Your heart pounded in your chest as you pulled back slightly, looking down at him in stunned realization. His eyes, glowing softly, blinked up at you with that same innocence and intensity. He wasn’t just a protector—he saw you as his mate.
And somewhere deep inside, you realized that you didn’t mind the thought.
You stared down at Kai, your fingers still resting gently on his head as he gazed up at you, unaware of the weight of his words. His eyes were wide and expectant, as if waiting for your reaction. The warmth that had been building in your chest bloomed fully, but it was accompanied by a nervous flutter in your stomach.
"Pups," you whispered softly, your voice barely audible. The idea, once foreign and unthinkable, now seemed… less strange. It wasn’t just the word—it was the meaning behind it. The way Kai had said it, with such sincerity and hope, like he couldn’t imagine anything more important. The realization that this ancient, powerful being cared for you in ways you hadn’t even understood until now.
Kai’s tail flicked in the water, splashing lightly as he nuzzled you again, this time more insistently. “Yes… pups,” he repeated softly, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through you. He shifted even closer, his large frame curling around yours protectively. “You… mine.”
Your breath hitched at his declaration. The weight of what he was saying—what he felt—was starting to sink in. Kai wasn’t just offering you protection or companionship. He wanted more. He wanted to build a life with you, in whatever form that took. To him, it seemed so simple. But to you, the complexity of the situation was dizzying.
Could you feel the same way about him? Could you be with someone so vastly different, someone from a world so far removed from your own?
But as you looked into his eyes, glowing softly with that bioluminescent warmth, you realized that you already had. The time spent together in the cave, the strange courtship rituals, the quiet moments of connection—they had already won you over. You had grown attached to him, maybe even fallen in love without realizing it. And now, faced with his earnest desire, it was impossible to ignore.
“Kai,” you murmured, brushing your thumb gently over the side of his face. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
His head tilted, eyes blinking as though he didn’t quite understand why you would question it. “Mean… yes. You mine. We… together. Have… pups.”
You think for a few seconds “how…how would we..?”
His hand pushes against your thigh, twitching hard, which has your eyebrows pulling tight. You go pale when you look down. What you assumed to be his hand was something else completely, moving around against your thigh with a sticky sheen being rubbed on the skin of you hip like he’s grinding his double dicks against you. His tail is heavy enough to keep you in place under him, and his crawled hand is slid along your side while he purrs pathetically, looking up at you with sweet begging eyes “Oh, fuck,” you mouth, “oh fuck.” Trying to slip out from under him makes him let out a soft growl, mouth corners lifting to show his canines.
“I-i dont think i can take them..both” you gulp.
He doesn't seem to notice, all he desires is your affection, Kai brings his fingers up interlacing around your chin. Under the night sky, his body lights up, the shimmering blue lights on his skin and tail accentuating your own vulnerability. He offers you a smile, his deep brown eyes sparkling with longing in the soft glow of the moon. Your lips meet. You trace your fingers along his chest and stomach. A glimpse of his form emerges from his opening, and you can't help but smile as you circle his protruding tip. He sighs your name into your mouth, the sensation akin to the gentle ebb and flow of the sea against the rocks. Gradually, he slips his entire cock into your hands grasp, and you caress his length with gentle strokes. He recoils slightly, his head resting back, his scales reflecting the moon's light. Firmly holding you, he rolls you onto your stomach. You grin up at him, extending your hand to gently sweep away a few droplets from his face. He returns the smile. Leaning back, you spread your legs and clasp onto his hips, taking a deep breath as he positions himself for an intimate moment. Your moans fill the night as he fucks you with a rhythm reminiscent of the ocean's waves.
#seaman#monster lover#monster fucker#monster x human#tw monsterfucking#monster#monster art#creature design#creature#sea monster#mermaid#merman smut#merman#mermaid art#merfolk#merpeople#siren#siren smut#teratophillia#terat0philliac#monster fuqqer#terato#monster smut
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The Price of Protection || Captain John Price
Summary: Request -Recently I was SA. Now I wasn't R@ped. But I was peer pressured/manipulated and intoxicated to verbally consenting to things I didn't want to do. I'm not asking for it to be relived but rather comfort. Everyone always talks about feeling disgusted but I want comfort for the guilt and second thoughts... Read Rest Here
A/N: THIS ONE IS HEAVY. Please read the trigger warnings below. Thank you anon for trusting me with this. I hope you like it.
Pairing: Captain John Price x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader
Word Count: 4.8k +
TW: MENTIONS OF SA (Not outright but hints), Heavy Angst, general COD warnings.
You had always admired your Captain for as long as you’ve known him. It wasn’t but almost three years ago now that you were assigned to Task Force 141. They were skeptical at first, as you would be too. Who was this little American girl infiltrating their ranks? This was a Task Force with the most brilliant minds and somehow you were there. Yet, you had proven yourself one of the most valuable assets to the team time and time again. You were good, great even, at your job. You could hack into anything, take over any camera you wanted, reroute rockets if you had the time allotted. You were the genius behind some of the missions that could’ve gone south fast. You were Captain Price’s secret weapon that he kept well hidden.
It took you a while to open up to the guys. But leave it to Soap to get you talking. After a year of trying your best to maintain the Ghost persona, Soap had successfully broken you down. They learned of your past, how you came to be so freakishly good with computers and hacking, where you went to school and where you grew up. You were an enigma to the team. And they grew to love you. It was slow until it wasn’t. You were an outcast until you weren’t. You found yourself laughing and bantering with John, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost time and time again. Suddenly, you were a part of the team, a true member of TF141.
Most times you would head out with the team to help them out. But sometimes you could do the job right from your home base. And this mission turned out to be one of those times. You didn’t hate that you didn’t get to go; you just felt a little left out when you stayed back. But Price always assured you it was for your safety above all else. Sometimes these missions were a little too dangerous for even you. Which of course led you to be more nervous than ever. If it was too dangerous for you, then what was it for them? Surely no walk in the park.
You walked with Price out to the chopper trying one last time. “Captain, are you sure? I can help with logistics once you get there.”
He gave you that signature soft Price smile before shaking his head softly. “I’m sure. It’s a quick in and out. No need to put you in the line of fire for it.”
“But…”
He cut you off. “I know you want to go. I really do. But it’s not worth the risk. You’re too valuable to this team.”
You let out a sigh before nodding. “I understand. Please be safe. Make sure everybody comes back in one piece.”
He gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Like we always do. We land at 0800 local time. Soap will be giving you a call then. We’ll see you soon.”
Pressing your lips together you forced a smile to him. “You better.” With a quick nod, you watched as he hopped in the chopper with the rest of the team. Soap flipped you off before the pilot ascended, leaving you in a fit of laughter, always the shit he was.
You had forgotten how much you disliked being away from the team. You felt so far, so disengaged. Even with MacTavish swearing like a sailor in your ear. You felt totally helpless but tried your best to do whatever you could for the team. The mission was successful but not without hiccup. Gaz had been shot, fortunately, it was just a small graze to the shoulder but nevertheless it reminded you of how fragile their lives were. How one misstep could take a best friend away from you. How crucial you really were to their livelihood.
The stress was getting to you tonight though. The thought of mortality was becoming too much. So, you found yourself at the bar just outside of base. What better way to bury your stresses away than to drink your worries away right with it? You weren’t usually so careless. But the worry and the helplessness got the better of you. One beer turned to two. Turned to a few shots bought by a man across the bar who was giving you the eyes. You’d seen him around base. Maybe even chatted for a brief time. But you chose to never give these men the time of day, until tonight. You knew the type and usually stayed far away. But it was a moment of weakness that got to you.
As the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, the edges of your worries dulled. For a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. It was a temporary reprieve, a fleeting sense of freedom from the constant pressure of your responsibilities. In the chatter and clinking of glasses you felt an unwanted hand on your shoulder, and you turned to see the man who had been buying you drinks. His smile was charming, but there was a hint of something predatory in his gaze. Instinctively you tensed as your senses were on high alert in your inebriated state.
You forced a polite smile, but you felt uneasy. The alcohol had clouded your judgment, leaving you vulnerable and exposed. You knew you should’ve left right then and there. Find your way back to the safety of base, but a part of you hesitated. Maybe it was the loneliness or the desire to forget, but you entertained the idea of staying just a little longer.
As the minutes ticked on, you found yourself ensnared in a web of conversation with the soldier. His words were like honeyed poison, dripping with false charm and manipulation. He seemed to know just what to say. But beneath the surface there was a darkness lurking. A predatory intent masked by the guise of friendly banter. The alcohol eventually dulled your senses, clouding your judgment as you struggled to keep up with the rapid pace of the conversation. His words became a blur as each syllable merged into the next until they lost all meaning. But still you listened captivated by the illusion of connection he wove around you.
His touch was insistent. His hands lingering where they shouldn't have been sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. You tried to pull away, to put some distance between you and this stranger who seemed to know too much about you. But he only tightened his grip, his fingers leaving marks in their wake.
As the night wore on, the line between consent and coercion blurred. Your protests drowned out by the relentless onslaught of alcohol and manipulation. You knew deep down that you didn't want this, that every fiber of your being screamed for you to escape. But you felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his expectations. And so, with a soul weighed down by guilt and shame, you surrendered to his advances. Your body moving on autopilot as you sought refuge in the temporary oblivion of physical pleasure. But even as you gave in a part of you screamed in silent agony you mourned the loss of you usual control.
In the aftermath as the harsh light of reality pierced through the haze of alcohol and regret, you were left grappling with the devastating truth of what had transpired. You had been used, manipulated, reduced to nothing more than a pawn in someone else's twisted game. The guilt threatened to consume you, gnawing at your insides as you struggled to come to terms with what had happened. You blamed yourself, berating your own weakness and naivety. Wishing you had been stronger, smarter, better able to protect yourself. But deep down you knew the truth. You were not to blame. You were a victim of his manipulation, preyed upon by someone who saw you as nothing more than a means to an end.
The next day dawned with a heavy burden that seemed to press down upon your shoulders, weighing you down with the crushing weight of guilt and shame. As the TF141 team returned from their mission, the atmosphere in the base shifted. You left the air thick with an unspoken tension that hung over the corridors.
Alone in your room, you felt as though you were drowning in a sea of despair, the walls closing in around you with every passing moment. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, leaving salty trails in their wake as you grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions. Each sob that wracked your body felt like a physical manifestation of the agony that churned within you. A relentless reminder of the betrayal of your own body and the violation of your trust. Every breath was a struggle, a battle against the suffocating weight of shame that threatened to crush you beneath its relentless onslaught.
Outside your door, the sounds of laughter from Soap and Gaz only served to deepen your anguish. You could hear Price and the others talking, their footsteps echoing through the corridors as they made their way back to their quarters. But despite the familiarity of their presence, you couldn't bring yourself to face them. You couldn't bear the thought of meeting their eyes and seeing the disappointment and judgment reflected back at you. Instead, you remained sequestered in your room. You isolated yourself from the world outside as you struggled to come to terms with what had actually happened.
As the hours passed and the weight of your guilt continued to bear down on you, your phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Soap, Gaz and even Ghost. Each notification felt like a sharp jab to your already fragile psyche, a painful reminder of the concern and judgment you knew awaited you on the other end of the line. Soap's messages were filled with words of worry and encouragement, his concern evident in the way he repeatedly asked if you were okay. Gaz's messages were more subdued, but no less concerned, his terse inquiries betraying the depth of his worry for your well-being.
You ignored their messages, unable to fake it to them. Instead, you buried yourself deeper in the cocoon of your own despair, the silence of your room offering little solace in the midst of your turmoil. But as the day wore on and hunger gnawed at your stomach, you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed and made your way to the cafeteria. It was late, far later than anyone else would-be getting dinner, or so you thought.
As you entered the desolate cafeteria, your heart sank at the sight of Ghost sitting alone at a table in the corner. Despite the emptiness of the room his presence felt suffocating, casting a harsh spotlight on the turmoil brewing within you. With a sigh you ignored him and walked up to serve yourself the usual dull military food. You felt Ghost's gaze boring into you. His eyes a mixture of concern and confusion as they lingered on your tear-stained face.
You filled your plate with food, your hands shaking as you struggled to maintain your composure. The weight of Ghost's scrutiny felt like a physical burden. But as you made your way past Ghost's table, you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed on the floor. Your cheeks burned with shame as you tried to hide the evidence of your recent breakdown.
With a quick nod of acknowledgment, you hurried away from Ghost's table. Your steps quickening as you sought refuge in the farthest corner of the room. You found an empty table and sat down keeping your head bowed as you focused on your food, desperate to avoid any further scrutiny. But despite your best efforts, you could still feel Ghost's gaze burning into you. His concern was a palpable presence in the empty room. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every inch of your skin was laid bare for him to see. And as you picked at your food, your appetite all but forgotten in the wake of your turbulent emotions. You couldn't help but wonder how long you could keep up the charade. How long before the facade you had constructed came crashing down around you?
As Ghost approached your table, his presence a calming anchor in the midst of your turbulent emotions, he gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. "Hey, kid," he greeted you in his trademark gruff tone, his voice carrying a note of concern beneath its rough exterior. "You alright?"
You tried to mask the evidence of your tears with a feeble attempt at a smile, but Ghost saw right through that. His keen eyes bore into yours, his gaze unwavering as he waited for your response.
"Yeah, just allergies acting up," you replied, your voice betraying the strain of your attempts to deflect his concern.
But Ghost wasn't fooled. He knew you better than that, could see the pain etched into every line of your face. With a grunt of acknowledgment, he accepted your explanation, though you could tell he wasn't entirely convinced.
"I won't push ya," he said with his gravelly voice, his tone softened by a rare display of empathy. "But if you ever wanna talk about it, I'm here." With a grateful nod, you thanked him and watched as he walked out of the room leaving you to your thoughts.
As the morning sun filtered through the curtains you found yourself ensnared in a labyrinth of restless thoughts. Each beam of sunlight seemed to illuminate the tangled mess of emotions that swirled within you, highlighting the heavy shroud of guilt that enveloped your very being. You had spent the night tossing and turning, your pillow dampened by tears that ebbed and flowed.
Just as you had managed to drift into a fitful slumber the persistent knocking at your door shattered the fragile semblance of peace you had managed to find. Each rap on the door felt like a blow to your already fragile composure jolting you awake from the fleeting respite of sleep. Groggy and disoriented you stumbled across the room, every step a struggle against the weight of exhaustion that hung heavy upon your shoulders.
With a heavy heart Captain John Price stood on the other side of the door, his hand hovering tentatively over the handle as he took in the sight before him. His breath caught in his throat, a pang of concern twisting in his chest at the sight of you. The vibrant energy that usually radiated from you had been replaced by a sadness he rarely saw from you. A shadow of your former self. His heart clenched with a mixture of empathy and apprehension as he took in your fragile state. Every instinct urged him to gather you into his arms, to shield you from the pain that etched lines of sorrow upon your face. But he held back, knowing that you needed space to unravel the tangled threads of your emotions in your own time. With a silent prayer on his lips, Price waited for you to acknowledge him.
"Captain, what are you doing here?" you greeted him with a ghost of a smile, though it failed to reach your eyes, which still held traces of the turbulent night you had endured.
Price's gaze softened at the sight of you, his concern etched into every line of his expression. "Hey love," he greeted softly, his voice carrying a gentle warmth that offered solace in the midst of your turmoil. "Missed you this morning at PT. Everything alright?"
You forced a tight-lipped smile, the effort of masking your inner turmoil nearly unbearable. Every word you spoke felt like a weight upon your chest, each syllable a struggle against the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to engulf you. "Yeah, just feeling a bit under the weather," you replied, your voice strained with the weight of the unspoken troubles that gnawed at your conscience. Price's brow furrowed deeper in concern as he studied your haggard appearance. His gaze lingered on you, searching for answers in the depths of your tired eyes, his intuition telling him that there was more to your distress than a simple case of illness.
"You sure that's all it is?" he pressed gently, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and skepticism. He had known you long enough to recognize when something weighed heavily on your mind, and the mask you wore now couldn't conceal the truth from him.
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to respond. The weight of your secrets threatened to suffocate you, but you clung to the fragile facade you had constructed, unwilling to burden him with the weight of your troubles. "Yeah, just... a rough night," you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue as you forced them past the lump that lodged there.
Price had always treated you differently, with a softness he never seemed to reserve for the others. From the moment you joined Task Force 141, he recognized the weight of the horrors that came with the job. He made it his mission to be there for you in a way that went beyond mere professional obligation. He became your confidant, your sounding board, the one person you could turn to when the darkness threatened to overwhelm you. His gentle demeanor and unwavering kindness provided a safe haven in the chaos of missions and the toll they took on your spirit.
Price's gaze softened with understanding as he reached out to gently squeeze your arm. His touch was a far cry from the man a few nights ago. He was that comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.
"You don't have to face it alone, you know," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me. You can always talk to me, love."
Indeed, Price's tenderness towards you was unmistakable. While you were every bit a soldier like the rest, he recognized that you were different. The things you witnessed and the actions you took on these missions slowly started eating away at you long ago. But Price was there offering solace and understanding. His affection for you growing deeper with each shared moment of vulnerability.
Over the three years of working together Price found himself drawn to more than just your skills and abilities. It was your spirit, your unwavering determination, and your unique personality that captivated him. At first it was subtle, just a flicker of admiration for the way you handled yourself under pressure, the way you never backed down from a challenge. But as time went on and he got to know you better, that admiration blossomed into something deeper. He found himself enchanted by the fire in your eyes when you spoke passionately about something you believed in. He admired the way you never lost your humanity, even in the midst of the darkest missions. Your compassion and empathy for others in the face of danger touched something within him that he hadn't realized was missing.
Price began to notice the small things about you, the adorable quirks that made you uniquely yourself. He found himself smiling at your jokes, laughing at your antics, and feeling a sense of peace whenever you were around. He cherished the moments when you let your guard down and allowed him to see the vulnerable side of you. He felt honored that you trusted him with your fears and insecurities.
As the years went by, Price realized that his feelings for you had evolved beyond mere admiration. He was in love with you. He loved the way you made him feel alive, the way you challenged him to be a better man, and the way you brought light into his dark world. But even as his feelings grew, Price knew that he could never act on them. Not while he was your Captain and the stakes of their missions remained so high. So, he buried his feelings deep inside. He was content to love you from afar and grateful for the opportunity to know you. Even if it meant keeping his emotions hidden.
Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were like a finely tuned unit, attuned not only to the dynamics of the battlefield but also to the subtleties of their comrades' interactions. They noticed the way Price's demeanor would shift whenever you entered the room. The slight softening of his usually stern expression, the warmth that crept into his eyes as they lingered on you, and the way his voice would adopt a gentler tone when he spoke to you. It was unmistakable to them though they never openly acknowledged it.
In their downtime when the mission chatter had quieted, and they found themselves lounging around the base, the guys would exchange knowing glances whenever Price's attention seemed to linger on you a little longer than necessary. Soap might chuckle and nudge Ghost, raising an eyebrow in silent communication that spoke volumes about Price's apparent fondness for you. Ghost, ever the silent observer, would offer a small smirk in return, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Price navigate the delicate balance between professionalism and the undeniable affection he held for you.
Gaz, always one for a bit of banter, wouldn't hesitate to make playful remarks whenever the opportunity presented itself. He'd tease Price about being extra protective of you during missions, jokingly suggesting that Price had a soft spot for you that he couldn't quite hide. Price would roll his eyes in response, brushing off Gaz's comments with a gruff retort. But the slight flush that colored his cheeks betrayed the truth behind Gaz's jests.
Despite their teasing, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz respected the unspoken boundaries that surrounded Price's feelings for you. They knew that his affection for you was genuine and deep-rooted, and they never pushed him to confront it unless he was ready. As for you, you might have been the only one oblivious to the undercurrent of emotions swirling around Price. To you he remained the steadfast leader, unwavering in his commitment to the mission and the safety of his team. His true feelings were well hidden behind a mask of professionalism and duty.
Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to find the courage to vocalize the turmoil that had been devouring you from within. The weight of your confession hung heavy upon your shoulders. Each word feeling like a jagged stone forced from your chest. "I... I had a little too much to drink while everyone was gone," you confessed, your voice barely rising above a whisper, as if you were afraid the words themselves would shatter the fragile sanctuary you had built around yourself. "And... I did things... things I didn't want to do."
As you spoke, the air in the room seemed to thicken with a suffocating sense of shame. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Price's gaze. You feared the judgment you were sure would reflect in his eyes. But when you finally summoned the courage to glance up, the expression etched on Price's face was not one of condemnation but of utmost concern. His features tightened with an intensity that mirrored the turmoil raging within him. His heart twisted with a potent blend of anger and sorrow at the thought of someone exploiting your vulnerability in such a despicable manner. But despite the roiling emotions churning beneath the surface, he remained stoically composed. He understood that now was not the time for upsetting you even further.
"Coerced..." you added, your voice trembling with shame as you unveiled the truth that had festered within you like a poison, eating away at your sense of self-worth with every passing moment. "I tried to resist, but... he wouldn't listen. He wouldn’t take no for an answer."
As the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air between you, you couldn't help but feel a surge of relief wash over you. As if the simple act of vocalizing your pain had lifted a burden that had threatened to crush you. Despite the shame that threatened to consume you there was a profound sense of solace in knowing that you were no longer bearing this burden alone. That you had finally allowed yourself to be vulnerable in front of the one person you trusted implicitly.
In that moment of raw honesty, you couldn't help but wonder if Price understood the depth of your feelings for him. If he could see beyond the facade you presented to the world and glimpse the tangled mess of emotions that lay hidden beneath the surface. As you spoke you couldn't deny the palpable sense of comfort that enveloped you. It was as if in allowing yourself to be vulnerable with Price you had discovered a sanctuary where judgment held no power, where acceptance reigned supreme. Captain John Price was the best of men.
And as Price listened his gaze never wavering from yours, you couldn't shake the feeling that he knew on some level the depth of your affection for him. Perhaps it was the gentleness in his touch, the understanding in his eyes, or the unwavering support he offered without hesitation. Whatever the reason, you found yourself daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. As the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air between you, you realized with startling clarity that Price was more than just a trusted confidant. He was your rock, your pillar of strength in a world filled with uncertainty and doubt. And as the realization settled deep within your heart, you couldn't help but acknowledge the truth that had been staring you in the face all along: you loved him, in a way that transcended mere friendship.
With each passing moment, the bond between you and Price grew stronger, forged in the chaos of shared experiences and unwavering support. And as you looked into his eyes seeing the reflection of your own emotions mirrored back at you, you knew without a doubt that you could tell him anything, and he would be right there for you, no matter what.
Price's grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly as you made your confession. His touch both grounding and reassuring in its strength. His resolve hardened as he fought back the surge of protectiveness that threatened to consume him. "I'm here for you," he reassured you, his voice unwavering in its conviction. "Whatever you need, I'll do everything in my power to help you through this."
As Price listened to your trembling words a whirlwind of emotions roiled within him. Anger burned hot in his chest at the thought of someone taking advantage of you. His fists clenched with the urge to seek retribution. But beneath the rage a deeper sense of sorrow welled up aching with empathy for the pain you had endured alone. "I will always be here for you," he murmured again. As the weight of your confession settled upon you both Price felt a swell of tenderness wash over him, mingling with the fierce determination that burned within him. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms, to shield you from the pain that gnawed at your soul.
With a gentle hand he lifted your chin, meeting your tear-filled gaze with unwavering reassurance. His heart clenched at the sight of your vulnerability, and he couldn't help but brush away the tears that traced delicate paths down your cheeks. "You're not alone. I promise you that," he whispered, his voice infused with a quiet strength that resonated deep within you. "I'll be right here, every step of the way." And as he spoke those words you felt a sense of solace wash over you. You knew that you could lean on him, trust in him.
Against his better judgment, Price drew you into his embrace. His arms encircling you with a tenderness that concealed the strength of his resolve. He held you close as you surrendered to the flood of tears that just kept coming. "It's okay," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of your turmoil. "I've got you. You're safe now."
His heart clenched at the sight of your vulnerability. He couldn't help but brush his hand through your hair. His touch a comforting caress that made you shiver. With each stroke he hoped to ease the burden that weighed so heavily upon your shoulders.
"You're not alone love," he whispered in reassurance. His voice a quiet promise against the chaos of your emotions. "I'm here for you, always." He said once more letting you know that he wasn’t going anywhere. He continued to hold you as the tears slowly subsided. His silent grasp on you a vow to stand by your side through every trial and tribulation that may lay ahead.
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Roronoa Zoro Falling In Love Headcanons (One Piece)
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro (Live Action One Piece) x Reader
Rating: Fluff
Word Count: 1.6k
Author's Note: After lacking a bit of inspiration recently I just finished watching the live action One PIece on Netflix and am completely obsessed, especially with Zoro! So here a few little headcanons for him, and I might do a part two of relationship headcanons too. Also requests are now open for any of the one piece characters so send them in! 💗☺️
- Oh Zoro. Truly the epitome of a heart of gold hiding behind a sarcastic, borderline cold, facade. A man who pretends to be affected by nothing, despite having so much space inside him for friendship and devotion.
- Chances are he'd first come across you when he and Luffy are docked in another new town. Maybe you're a pirate whose name he's heard in passing and considers trying to capture for the bounty. Maybe you're someone who just loves and helps out the small seaside village you live in, trying to make a few Berry from the ships passing through. Maybe you're the next key step to reaching Monkey's dream of finding the piece. Whatever he expects to find when your paths cross, it certainly isn't you.
- Before he even knows you're the person he's looking for, one look at you and he knows you're important. Like you exist in a slightly brighter light than everyone else he's ever met before, and he's not sure if he should shield his eyes or if he can't bear to look away. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you, the first glimpse enough to have his heart pounding in his chest like it never has before. Luffy watches his usually stern friend let his mouth fall open in silence, baffled by his actions until Nami leans over and whispers to him. Zoro can't hear exactly what she says but he hears the word 'crush' and feels his stomach churn at the thought. He wants to run, but he's unsure whether he wants to go towards or away from you. He grips his white katana as a panicked instinct when finally you glance up and send a friendly smile to the eclectic group of pirates standing, staring at you.
- Luffy can tell before you ever say a word that you're good and kind, and destined to be aboard the Merry as a part of his crew. Zoro can't bring himself to do anything but loom over his captain as he makes a sales pitch. The part of his brain that likes to be in control hopes that you're busy and tied down, that you'll reject Luffy's offer and he'll never feel as shaken and desperate as he does in this moment again. A much bigger part of him knows that he won't survive if you say 'no'. Like without you he might never dream again, doomed to spend the rest of his days sailing aimlessly, searching for the same rush he feels every time you look up at him over his friends straw hat. Thankfully Monkey rarely asks someone to join his crew that he isn't certain will eventually say yes. And so you do, accepting it's time to try a new path and join this strange group of good-hearted sailors, hoping for a new shot at your dreams.
- Monkey, Sanji and Usopp are all friendly from the get-go. They can't wait to share stories of their journey so far, and make sure you feel as safe and at home on the ship as they do. Nami takes a bit longer to open up to you, but when she does you can understand why, and while her friendship is harder to earn, it feels all the more solid for it. And then there's Zoro.
- You notice that whenever you all walk into a room, he'll always take the position or chair next to you, awkwardly stepping in front of Sanji on more than one occasion, or forcing himself into a tight spot rather than create distance between the two of you. He doesn't often strike up conversation first, but when you ask him something about himself he always looks very relieved and happy to have something to talk to you about. If the group has to split up he'll always stick by your side, taking the role of keeping you safe to heart. Your unspoken bodyguard. It gets to the point that the crew adjust to leaving a spot next to you for him to settle into, and never asking him to go out without you. All the while Nami takes great joy in speculating on his behaviour with you, and teasing Zoro for his complete inability to act like a normal human being. Sanji has to lay off his harmless flirting with you after he notices the daggers Zoro's shooting at him, and he's sure one night at a bar he heard him start to draw his sword when he put a hand on your leg.
- It doesn't take many conversations with Zoro, or many chats with Luffy who spends a lot of his time telling you about how wonderful and impressive Zoro is, for you to start finding his strange behavior more than a little flattering. The tall, talented swordsman can't help but soften under your gaze, and you feel yourself slowly leaning closer to him every time he settles at your side, before long finding yourself practically draped against him when the group find themselves at some gaudy bar on the outskirts of a marine base, failing to keep a low profile. Usopp insists on dragging you onto the dancefloor, and thankfully Nami asks Zoro to come dance with her before he has to either sit without you, or volunteer to dance of his own volition. Despite his athleticism, of course he's a terrible dancer, all uncoordinated movements and awkward energy as he fails to copy Usopp's charismatic moves. Taking pity on him, you take his hand in yours, letting him hold you closer as the rest of the group seem to fade in the crowd behind you having seen more than enough of his desperate longing to stick around for this. As Sanji and Usopp slink off to find another drink, Nami and Luffy can't resist keeping just in view so they can watch on as they finally see Zoro smile widely and let his guard down, relaxing against you as the pair of you sway. Nami wants to make a bet on if Zoro finally gets the nerve to say something about his feelings, but after a few months of being her closest friend she decides to just root for you both instead, trying to pull Luffy just far enough away to give you two some much needed privacy.
- As you feel his arms encircle you, a soft sway in his hips that matches yours, his mouth drops open and closed a few times over. It's always hard for him to find the right thing to say to you, but when he has you this close, with your eyes sparkling up at him, it's almost impossible to even think. It's all consuming living on the same ship, his heart jumping in his chest every time someone enters his cabin in case it's you, his feet taking him to stand outside your quarters almost every day just willing himself to knock on the door and finally put words to his devoted actions. He couldn't fight his longing to be near you for even a day, and watching you open up to him and start to inch closer yourself, he can't help but hope that you might be feeling just a drop of the ocean of affection he navigates for you. His eyes focus intensely on yours as he tries again to speak, stumbling over the word 'I' a few times before resigning himself to silence for another night.
- You could see the conflict of fear and hope in his eyes, the man of few words clearly straining to explain things his training had never left room for. He was trying, and you were sure you knew what he was going to say, but you didn't think you could be the one to articulate it for him. That didn't mean you couldn't give him a bit of encouragement.
- Trailing your hands over his arms to settle on his shoulders, you stepped flush with his body, the extra contact enough to stop his gentle sway and turn his whole frame rigid. With the softest smile you could muster you leaned up onto your tiptoes, giving him a moment to pull away before letting your lips press softly to his. It was just for a second. A mere moment of soft, sweet, contact. The kind Zoro had never even let himself imagine because it felt so far out of reach for him. But it happened, and it was perfect. A wide grin spread over his face at your action, finally feeling like he might be able to share his life with someone other than the ghost he carried with him on his hip.
"WAHHOOOOOO!YES YES YES!"" A deafening cheer echoed through the bar, shaking the light fixtures and turning every single head towards your ecstatic captain. Nami looked mortified as Luffy continued to punch the air in celebration of his first mate finally achieving a dream a little less violent than he'd first set out for, his joy for his friend all consuming and without an ounce of tact.
"Luffy! Stop it! We'll leave you to it." Nami had to physically drag him away as you heard the unfamiliar sound of Zoro laughing to himself, the grin across his cheeks only spreading as his focus returned to you. Leaning back in to find your lips again, he whispered,
"What Luffy said."
#writing#fanfiction#requests#one shot#one piece#one piece live action#live action one piece#roronoa zoro#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro roronoa x y/n#one piece headcanons#one piece requests#one piece zoro#zoro x reader#zoro headcanons#zoro roronoa x you#roronoa zoro headcanons#zoro fluff#roronoa zoro fluff#roronoa zoro x reader
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Promises - Yandere!Kraken!Felix
Yandere AU & Kraken AU - First Person POV
Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue
Pairing: Felix X Implied Chubby!Fem!Reader
Words: 1,958
Warnings: Implied violence and shipwreck, kidnapping, Felix is a type of Sea God in this, mentions of past sexual relations. Tentacles. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: Did I base the start of this drabble on the ending scene in Dead Man's Chest? Perhaps. Is this a bit tamer than the others. Maybe. Either way, I still hope you like it! I've been slowly easing myself back into writing, so I'm happy with what I've been able to do. Plus, I just fucking love the banner I made for this hehehe... Anyways, Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~
The Thirteenth of The Feral Drabbles
They thought they could keep you away from me.
They really thought they could keep you away from me.
It’s laughable. I thought it was a known rule for sailors not to anger the sea, but alas. Here we are.
The frantic screams and shouts don’t deter me for one second. I know what I came here for, and I’m not leaving without you. You’re mine. I warned them what the consequences would be, yet still they refused to give you to me. Even after we promised ourselves to each other! Can you believe that?
Oh, that sounds so harsh. It’s not like you didn’t also choose me. It’s these… these… things keeping us apart. They don’t understand our love. Think I’m corrupting you, or something.
Such bullshit. The only thing I’m corrupting is their ability to live.
They hid you on the third level, thinking you’d be safe within the deepest confines of the ship. Little do they know it’s the worst place you could be. It’s like they want you to get hurt, like they want me to kill you. Such things I would never do.
Still, despite my anger as I tear this floating piece of wood apart, I’m careful. Your safety is my top priority, and I’ve already ensured that. Right now, you rest, cocooned inside a few of my tentacles. Magic surrounds you, ensuring none of their attacks have any effect on me or you. Like hell I’ll allow them to disturb you now. Besides, you passed out shortly after my assault started on the ship, but you don’t have to worry. I’ve got you.
I can still remember when we first met, how you told me you didn’t fare well with sea travel. Yet another offence they’ve made against you. I’ll never forgive them for their transgressions. Sinners need to pay, and I am here to pass my divine judgement on those that would call themselves ‘heroes’.
Do not fear, My Beloved. Once I finish smashing apart this pathetic excuse of driftwood, I’ll take you home.
Where you’ve always belonged.
With me.
These planks are so brittle, it’s almost laughable. Your captor’s pathetic attempts to defend themselves are cute, in a way. If not for the fact that every time I start to pull you out of the wreckage, more of them show up to try and hinder me. I don’t know why they’re so obsessed with protecting you now when they’ve never done so before.
I’m the one who always saves you. I’m the one who ensures you no harm. Not them.
No matter. They haven’t seen everything that I can do. My capabilities far surpass what their puny, closed off minds can comprehend. I’ve got magic beyond the darkest depths of the ocean, strength greater than the harshest of tides. There is no being, save myself, that could keep me away from you.
I don’t even know why they try.
Finally, I’m able to pull you out of that godforsaken wreckage and unleash my full wrath upon these wretches. The boat snaps like a twig as I pull the debris and all remaining survivors below the surface.
None will survive. They don’t get to. I won’t let them.
Honestly, it’s kind of fun tearing stuff apart. I’ve always enjoyed making a mess of things. I only wish you could be awake to see just how strong your lover can be. After all, I’m doing this for you. I warned them about what would happen should they lay their filthy, traitorous hands all over you. I’m simply staying true to my word!
You know firsthand that I’m a very truthful guy. I would never lie to you, My Pearl. I would rather be slow roasted over an open fire than even think to deceive you.
Aren’t I so loyal?
Oh. Right. You aren’t awake to hear my teasing. Teasing which you seem quite fond of whenever I’m with you.
I think you just like hearing my voice…
That’s okay, Beloved. I will speak for as long as you desire me to. Besides, the feeling is quite mutual.
Gods- I can’t wait to see your face when you wake up in our home, and I get to tell you everything that I’ve done for you. Finally, we can be together, free of oppressive opinions and suppressive stares. Where I’m taking you, we can be ourselves, and the magic of my ocean will keep you safe. Eventually, when you’re ready, you’ll even become like me, too.
Won’t that be incredible? Just thinking about it makes my whole body tingle.
Or maybe that’s just the change in depth.
I promise my home isn’t too much further out, and it’s in a safe area. You’ll be able to live here with me free of any restraints. I’ll be your comfort. I’ll be your guide. I will provide for you everything you will ever need.
There is nothing stopping our love now.
I’ll even make sure that no sliver of the wreckage I just caused gets to you. The currents listen to me. They’re my friends, and soon they will be yours, too.
Either way, I’m glad that’s over, because now I can focus on you! I know that you’d be celebrating with me if you were awake, but for now, I’ll simply revel in this sweet victory alone. Having you safe in my arms is enough reward, and when you wake, the true celebration will begin.
Hmm, I wonder what we should do first? Should I take you to the reefs so you can see all of the colourful coral that I’ve grown just for you? Should I present you to the schools of fish that always seek refuge around my house? Get them to revel in your beauty? Or maybe I’ll worship you in the den of our own personal sanctuary, where nothing - no one - will be able to interrupt.
My Beauty.
My Beautiful, Beloved Pearl.
I’ll admit, there’s a certain ring to those names that I enjoy. It calls to me like the cavernous songs of the sirens. An enchantment I can never seem to escape: you.
Not that I want to.
No. Never. Not since the very first time I laid eyes on you.
You’re addictive, you know that? One glance caught my attention. One melodic note of a spoken word, and I was hooked. Your eyes are deeper than the darkest sea, and I could swim in them forever. You hold me, transfixed, with your gaze whenever you look at me, and I never want it to stop.
Honestly, I can never grow tired of you looking at me. I want you to look at me, and only me. I want to be the first thing you see in the morning when you blink those glorious eyes open, and the last thing you see when you go to sleep at night. I want to wrap you in my arms and hold you close, whispering the sweetest words of all the worlds in your ears, and hear you do the same for me in return.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Beloved, and I will never hesitate to prove that to you. With me, you will never have to settle for less than what you deserve, for I will always give you every single thing your heart could ever desire.
Fuck- I can still remember the way your body trembled from the very first touch. The more I trailed my arms over your body, letting the tips of my tendrils caress your skin, the more your whole being warmed. You fit so perfectly in my hold, that I long to always touch you - to always be near you, and obey your every whim.
I am but your loyal servant, sent to worship the very depths of your soul. Your entire being calls to me, and I could bathe in your warmth for all eternity. Right now, it’s that warmth that I crave more than anything. That glorious nectar that seeps from between your legs beckons to me. One taste isn’t enough. I need to feel you flooding my every sense once more.
Sweet.
Addictive.
I could spend ages defining it, but nothing could ever truly put into words just how ethereal you are to me.
People always thought my existence was mere myth itself. Rumours and legends only meant to scare those away from pursuing adventure on the high seas. Nothing more than a fable to tell their children at night to ensure they don’t go off swimming in the bay alone.
They have always been, and will always be, wrong.
I’m as real at the tide, as sure as the sand that resides against the ocean floor. There is nothing in these waters as deadly as I am, and all those that oppose us will face my wrath.
Well, where we’re going, we won’t have to worry about being disturbed at all. Plenty of room for the both of us. Plenty of privacy. No one dares disturb that which should be left undisturbed. At least, those smart enough to.
That is, of course, unless I use my magic to let those sirens get a taste of their own medicine. Water echoes even the smallest of sounds, and yours should be heard for miles around. I can still hear your glorious voice calling out my name as you bathed me in your own sacred waters, and I want all to know that you are mine, and I am yours. For all eternity.
I’ll admit… I’m addicted to you, and I can never get enough. Though, from the way I remember your hands clinging to me that night only days ago, I don’t think you can get enough, either.
Good thing we have forever to spend fully satisfying each other!
Ah… looks like we’re finally getting close to home. I can see the familiar drop off up ahead. Don’t worry, Beloved, there’ll be plenty of air for you to breathe inside. I won’t always have to keep you covered in a veil of magic. Though, I would always like to have an arm around you. Feeling your skin pressed against my own is a sensation unlike any other, and I long to never let you go.
Perhaps I should tidy up a little more before you wake. I always have way too much energy after destroying a ship. Something about adrenaline and all that.
Perhaps when you wake up you could even help me with it… You might be a bit tired and disoriented when you wake, but my magic can help with your exhaustion. You seemed to like that that last time I used it on you.
How else could we have gone as many rounds as we did?
Oh, you flatter me by pulling yourself in closer to me subconsciously when I shift into such a basic form. It easier to move around like a human within my home when it’s drained like this, and besides, I haven’t exactly shown you my entire true form yet. The last thing I want to do is scare you as soon as you wake up. You’ve already suffered the trauma of being stolen away from me today. I don’t want to make things worse.
There. All you need to do is rest now.
In my arms? Well, who am I to pull away from My Pearl when you’re clinging onto me so tightly in your sleep?
I truly can never say no to you…
Just rest, Beloved. This creature shall keep you safe, tucked away deeply in his heart for all eternity. Once you open those glorious eyes of yours, our own adventure will start.
Just you and me, forever.
I promise.
#cultofdionysusnet#mfu-net#yandere felix#yandere stray kids#yandere skz#yandere kpop#felix smut#felix scenarios#skz smut#stray kids scenarios#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#kpop smut#kpop au#kpop scenarios#kraken au#chubby reader
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: shanks, vivi, ace, law, sabo 𝐂/𝐖: hurt/comfort 𝐖/𝐂: 800 +
| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 1 |
𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒
You weren't a pirate, like him, which means that your life is built on the same loop: he who arrives, he who loves you as best he can and finally he who goes back to the sea while leaving you behind.
You love him with all your heart and you can't forget him despite the many months or even years he spends at sea far from you. You know he's a sailor and staying ashore for him is impossible, but every time he leaves, your heart breaks that you're not enough to make him want to stay at home. Whatever you do, he will always end up leaving you to come back when he wants. And you are neither strong enough to join him at sea, not wanting to leave your life that you had built so hard in your city, nor to turn the page and abandon him as well. So you stay up waiting for him every day, hoping he comes back to you.
𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈
Vivi is a princess and you are, of course, no match for royalty. Everything around you is a reminder, from the comparisons with the members of the nobility to the discussions on her future diplomatic marriage that inflamed the people.
Since you had met, you knew that you did not evolve in the same world. You still couldn't believe that she chose you among all of the people around her since she was the pampered and loved elite of the country while you were just one of her subjects among many others. Your relationship was hidden from everyone because you both knew that, even if her father loved her and wished her happiness, he could never accept your relationship since you are not enough for a princess. The scandal that the discovery of your relationship would cause could even tarnish the reputation of the royal family. And he would only have to easily send you away so your unpowered person would not be an obstacle to her future.
𝐀𝐂𝐄
As a free spirit always in search of adventure, Ace is an extrovert who's happy to be often brought to meet new people and new places. But you're a deep introvert and you sometimes wonder if he could be sick of you slowing him down.
Where he is ready to visit the whole world and live at full speed so as not to have the slightest regret, you are more the type to like your peace of mind on the Moby Dick chatting with companions you already know. So it has happened several times that Ace gives up one of his adventures or cancels a mission to be able to stay with you, snuggle up in the bunk of your shared room. And, although the gesture is cute and makes you happy, you ask yourself each time how many times he will still restrict himself to you before starting to see you like a millstone at his ankle and breaking up with you definitively.
| he comforts you about your insecurity |
𝐋𝐀𝐖
Law isn't a very physically affectionate person, nor does he seem downright comfortable receiving that kind of attention. Unfortunately for you, you are a very tactile person and the idea that he sees you as too clingy makes you sick.
So you're careful to avoid any avoidable contact. You forget the urge to put your hand on his shoulders when you pass behind him, seated. You give up on hugging him when the two of you are next to each other in bed. You restrain yourself from putting your hand on his thigh when you eat on nearby chairs. This has an impact on your morale in the long run but you are much more terrified by the idea that he finds you clingy and complains about it than by the lack of physical contact. You've already woken up sweating from a nightmare where you listened to him, unable to move, making remarks to Shachi and Penguin about your overly tactile behavior that annoyed him.
| he comforts you about your insecurity |
𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐎
Sabo is, unfortunately for you, very popular with the revolutionaries, whether it's some of the women in the organization or the men of Momoiro Island. And, with rather impressive possessiveness issues, it's not easy every day.
You are aware that your jealousy is disproportionate when you understand that you just want him to be completely out of touch with these people, who are also his collaborators. Even though you know Sabo is faithful, you can't get your mind off the simpering faces of those people who want to steal your boyfriend. However, just as you realize that your possessiveness is higher than average, you also realize the image that you will send back to Sabo if he discovers you in this new light. So you swallow in silence, as best you can, the black beast that rumbles in your belly and you do your best to avoid showing it, even if it means letting this beast devour you from the inside.
| he comforts you about your insecurity |
𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄
#one piece#one piece x reader#imagine#shanks#shanks x reader#vivi nefertari#vivi x reader#portgas d ace#ace x reader#trafalgar law#law x reader#sabo#sabo x reader
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cruel summer
summary: steve gives you a ride home after a late night working at the mall.
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader
title 🎵: cruel summer by bananarama
It’s summertime. While most of your friends are spending the season outside and relaxing under the sun, you’re stuck working inside all day at Starcourt Mall. You got a job at Waldenbooks because you’re trying to save up money to buy a car. You’re about to enter your senior year at Hawkins High and you want to be able to drive yourself to school instead of bumming rides off of friends.
At least you’re not completely alone at the mall. Steve Harrington works at Scoops Ahoy, which isn’t too far from Waldenbooks. Sometimes when things are slow at the bookstore, you go down to the ice cream parlor to hang out with Steve.
You became friends with Steve last fall around the same time that your little brother, Dustin, started bonding with him. But you think that working at the mall has really brought you and Steve closer together. Over the past few weeks, you two have been seeing each other on a daily basis. Steve’s face lights up every time he sees you walk into Scoops Ahoy and it always makes your day when Steve visits you at Waldenbooks. You and Steve genuinely enjoy spending time together.
Whenever you’re both working late, Steve offers to give you a ride home. The last bus always leaves as soon as the mall closes and most of the time you need to stay later. Tonight is one of those nights. You’re working OT, re-organizing a bookshelf after some kids moved several titles around, and Steve has to stay late waiting for a shipment. The delivery driver is running way behind schedule.
By the time you finish work, the mall is closed. You go downstairs to Scoops Ahoy. Just as you arrive, you see Steve walking out of the ice cream parlor.
“You ready to go?” he asks you.
“Yeah,” you nod.
You watch him pull down the security gate and lock it. Then you two make your way to the exit. No one else is around and most of the lights are off except for the big neon signs outside of the stores. You love it when the mall is closed because it's so quiet and calm.
“You know, I think I prefer the mall like this,” you say.
“Me too,” Steve agrees.
You and Steve walk together across an almost empty parking lot until you reach his red BMW. He gets in the driver’s seat and you sit shotgun. You keep your eyes on the rearview mirror, watching Starcourt getting smaller and smaller as Steve drives away.
“I feel like I need to enjoy this time alone with you while I still can. Because when Dustin gets back from camp, you’re gonna want to spend all your time with him insead,” you joke.
Steve chuckles, shaking his head.
“That’s not true. I’ll still wanna hang out with you too...”
You look down at your lap, hoping Steve doesn’t see you blush.
“Truth is, hanging out with you these past few weeks has been the best part of my job. Scoops Ahoy totally sucks! The only reason I have this stupid job in the first place is because I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson. I make like $3 an hour slinging ice cream and I have no future…” Steve vents.
You shake your head.
“Don’t say that! You have a future,” you try.
“I just don’t want to be stuck in Hawkins forever…” Steve shrugs.
You take a deep breath.
“Steve, I get it… Honestly I think part of me wants a car so badly because I’m afraid I’ll never get out of Hawkins. That car is like my last ditch exit plan. I don’t want to be stuck here either,” you quietly admit.
Steve sighs, understanding. It’s comfortably quiet for a moment. And then-
“I forget about all that shit when I'm with you though…” Steve says.
You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from grinning ear to ear. Steve looks at you and sees you blushing. You couldn’t hide it from him this time. You shyly smile back him and then change the subject-
“You should lose the sailor’s hat. It’s hiding your best feature,” you suggest.
Steve nods in agreement.
“Yeah, I know! It completely screws up my game. But I have to wear it… company policy,” he complains.
You slowly reach towards Steve.
“Well you’re off the clock now-”
You take the hat off Steve's head and toss it in the back seat.
“Much better,” you smile.
Steve smiles back at you. You look into each other’s eyes. You both feel the electricity in this moment. After a beat, Steve turns his focus back to the road. The car is approaching your street.
“Ok so I’ll just turn right and take you home…. Or I could keep going straight and then we’ll just be driving around town for a while,” Steve tells you.
Steve is having a good time. He doesn’t want this night to end. And neither do you.
“Keep going straight,” you nod.
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x henderson!sister reader
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Message in a Bottle
A/N: Happy Birthday Silvio Pairing: Silvio Ricci x Reader Prompt: A walk along the beach at sunset Word count: 1113 Tags: fluff
The sand was soft between your toes, the salty air bringing a cool breeze from the ocean. Walking hand in hand, the sun shone brightly as it began its descent towards the horizon.
Never in all your life, after spending your entire life in Rhodolite – and much of that time working at the bookstore – did you imagine living somewhere else. And never in a million years – after your disastrous first “date” with Silvio – did you imagine falling in love with Silvio and moving to Benitoite.
Funny how time changes first impressions, isn’t it?
“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout in that head of yours?” Silvio asked, playfully tugging on your arm.
“Huh?” You quickly pushed away your thoughts, fearing that he, too, was able to read your mind.
“Ya got that silly lovestruck look on your face,” he pointed out, his hand gesturing at your face. “You’re thinkin’ of me, aren’t ya?” he added, his sly smirk not hiding the reddening blush creeping on his cheeks.
“Absolutely not!” Letting go of his hand, you gently punched his shoulder, pushing him away. “Perish the thought.”
He laughed and reached out, grabbing your hand. You continued walking along the shoreline in silence, enjoying the peaceful serenity of the beach.
You ended up walking so far, you reached a small outcropping of rocks. When you saw a scattering of seashells washed up in the sand, your eyes brightened with excitement.
“Look at all these shells!” Walking closer to the shells, you wanted to collect some to bring back home as a memory of today.
“Go pick yer shells, I’m fine right over here,” Silvio replied, clearly disinterested in the shells.
Crouching down, your fingers dug in the sand to pick up the shells, hoping to get lucky and find a conch shell or perhaps a starfish.
“Silvio, you should come over here, there’s some really pretty shells!” you called out. Most of the shells were scallop shells or clam shells, but you did find a particularly pretty oyster shell, the inside swirled with creamy white mother-of-pearl, that could serve as a trinket holder. You glanced up to find him waving his hand, walking away from the rocks. And you.
You shrugged your shoulders as you continued your collecting, eager to see what other treasures you might find in the sand. The sun was in the perfect position for its rays to shine so bright in your eyes that you needed to shield them with your hands. This also meant the sun’s rays also highlighted the shells and anything else in the surrounding area.
Not far away, you spotted something shining bright in the sand. As you approached the object, you noted that it was a small bottle, its glass glittering in the sunlight. You quickly dug it out of the sand, excited to examine its contents. Holding it in your hands, you saw inside the bottle there was what appeared to be a rolled up piece of paper. A thrill ran down your spine as your body shivered with excitement, wondering what was in the bottle.
Was it a message from long ago from a sailor to his family? Or maybe it was a pirate’s map? Or perhaps it was an encouraging note to whomever found the bottle?
The possibilities were endless.
Holding the bottle in one hand, you gingerly pulled on the cork stopper with the other hand. Placing the bottle down on the sand, you unrolled the paper, your eyes quickly scanning the words scrawled on the sheet.
Your heart stopped for a moment – the handwriting, you recognized it. You would know it anywhere as it belonged to Silvio.
If you’re reading this, then you found it. My secret surprise for you. I’m not good with expressing my feelings, so don’t go expectin’ something sappy.
You glanced up, your eyes welling with tears as you found Silvio off in the distance, the waves gently lapping at his ankles. With his back to you, you were unsure if he had noticed you discovered his bottle.
I would shower you with a mountain of gifts, more than you have ever seen, to show you my love for you. But I know objects don’t hold much meaning to you, so I thought I’d write you this letter. You can thank that rotten mutt later for this, it was his idea.
Your gaze returned to the message in your hands, your heart pounding in your chest, your face feeling flush as your mind processed the words on the paper.
You’re the only person I’ve ever said this to. But don’t go expectin’ me to say it all the time. But… I love you.
Your eyes flicked up again, desperate to see Silvio. He was still standing in the waves, but this time, you could have sworn he glanced back at you briefly.
I ain’t so good with words. So if ya do happen to find this, don’t bring it up. Okay? It was hard enough to write this on paper, I’m not gonna wanna have a whole conversation about my feelings.
So if ya do find this, instead… ask me to dance with you. That way I’ll know you found it.
With the heel of your palm, you wiped the tears on your face. Shoving the paper in your pocket along with the shells you collected, you ran over to Silvio.
The water was cool against your skin as you got closer to him.
“Hey,” you called out, grabbing his attention. He turned and looked at you, his face flustered. “You ok?” you asked teasingly, noticing the bright blush adorning his face.
“Me? I’m fine!” he practically shouted back. “Next time, don’t take so long collecting your shells.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you miss me, Silvio?”
His handsome face twisted into an angry scowl. “Miss you? Nah. Don’t go putting words in my mouth. It’s just…the water is gettin’ cold.”
Biting your lip, you controlled your urge to continue to torment him. Taking his hand in yours, you gazed into his ocean blue eyes, ready to put an end to his torture.
“Dance with me?”
Silvio scoffed at your request. “Here? On the beach?”
“Yeah, here on the beach,” you repeated, your eyes fixed on him, wanting to tell him everything you felt reading his letter.
Silvio sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Fine,” he grumbled. “The things I do to make ya happy.”
He wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling your body so close to his, you could feel the heat radiating from him. As your bodies swayed to the susurration of the waves, you looked up at Silvio, pleased to find a soft smile on his lips.
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Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady
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#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#silvio ricci#ikepri silvio#ikepri fanfic#ikemen fanfic#otome#otome games#otome fanfic
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"Sea shanties" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader
[mentions of a minor injury and blood]
SUMMARY: Alina catches Sturmhond in a surprising moment of weakness when he's quietly watching you sing to yourself and fix the net.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k
>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<
☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾
The cold wind nips at your exposed skin and part of you beckons you to return under the deck to finish sewing the net back together. But you dread returning among the sailors: despite truly being a lovely bunch, their constant chattering and liveliness can wear you out. The berths and cabins are warm, yes, but the sea is silent, predictable and, most of all, doesn’t expect engagement. As long as you let her be, she leaves you alone in return. Here, where cold wind tugs at your clothes and saltwater spray your face, you can finally take a deep breath and relax your tense shoulders. Stitching the nets is a very monotone, maybe even boring, activity but it’s exactly what you need. Your hands fix the knots on their own, guided by experience, allowing your mind to let go of duties and worries, to slip away into much more pleasant thoughts.
“I’ll wander, weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home,” you sing barely above a whisper. Truthfully, you can’t recall where you learned the song. It’s as if you’ve always known it, the melody haunting you whenever you’re getting lost in thought.
Alina lets out a sigh of relief when she finally finds Sturmhond. For a moment she was really considering whether he could snap his fingers and vanish. He’s leaning against the doorframe but his broad shoulders still block most of the view of the deck. Sturmhond is completely oblivious to her presence and Alina has a bit too much spite in her to let the opportunity go. She quietly approaches him, harbouring a wicked hope that maybe she can scare him and single-handedly rub away that smug smirk of his.
She stops a pace or two behind him, taking in a deep breath to yell right into his ear. "Sturmhond, I-"
But the privateer is quick to silence her:
"Keep your voice down!" he hisses at Alina.
The Sun Summoner frowns at the privateer. Not only did she not scare him but also seems to be interrupting something. And considering his wish to keep things quiet, Sturmhond is doing something he knows he shouldn’t. She stares at him through half-closed eyes, beaming with suspicion, when she hears a faint hum distracting her from constructing some passive-aggressive remark. Alina recognizes your voice, although it sounds a lot softer than what she’s used to. Being the boatswain, you’re mostly heard yelling out orders for the maintenance crew that you’re watching over; forcing seafarers to tie perfect knots, no matter how many tries it takes them and raising Hell for the smallest error in repairing sails. Even if you might come off as harsh, credit is due as Volkvolny’s sails and equipment are kept impeccable. Your discipline has definitely played a significant part in Sturmhond’s successful betrayal of the Black General.
Listening in, over the howling wind and crashing waves, Alina and Nikolai eavesdrop on the sombre song you’re singing quietly to yourself — a story of a woman mourning her lover who never returned from the sea. Despite the heaviness of the words leaving your mouth, your voice is rid of dread as though such a woeful story is nowhere near relatable to you. Alina doesn’t notice that detail but Sturmhond surely does. In fact, it brings him a sense of relief: after all, how could he compete with a dead man for your love?
A mischievous smile creeps onto Alina’s face as she’s looking between you and Sturmhond. As far as she can tell, you’re completely oblivious to the small audience watching you go about your duties. The sailor, however, is unable to control his soft expression and that lovesick, mellow look in his eyes. To be honest, Sturmhond looks so removed from reality, he might actually be unaware that there are more people in the world than just him and you.
“So, genius privateer Sturmhond, the fright of the sea is in love with the boatswain,” Alina whispers, barely holding in an impish snicker, “but instead of his usual bravado he cowers away, settling for watching her from afar like a creep.”
He seems to ponder her words for a moment, nodding his head ever so slightly. “That is a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks. Nikolai appears to be well aware of his affliction but rendered powerless in the face of his heart’s desire, he can only accept the state of things.
“I wanted to say pathetic but either way works.”
Sturmhond looks at Alina out of the corner of his eye but only for a moment, unwilling to waste any more time not admiring you. “Wouldn’t it be more pathetic to be the best privateer in all of Ravka’s history but not know love?”
Alina clenches her fists. She puckers her lips, suddenly feeling hot as blood rushes to her face. Saints have mercy - he’s right. The sole act of seeing eye to eye with the blond man isn’t as terrible as the act of admitting it and stroking his ego. “I hate to say it but I agree,” she grits through her teeth.
Nikolai notices her discomfort. He doesn’t hide a certain satisfaction in the effect he has on her - it’s amusing to see her paper mache confidence falter, although he is painfully aware that this will prove problematic later on. “Oh my, I might think you actually tolerate me.”
She forces herself into a contemptuous scowl - it’s a little overdone to be considered natural. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Alina dismisses him.
“You know, I might be an incredible captain and all but without her…” Sturmhond shakes his head. His eyes follow your barely noticeable movements as you weave the net back together. “This whole ship would have already sunk.”
But she doesn’t believe him - not entirely. If she is to believe Tamar, and Alina doesn’t have much reason not to, Sturmhond chose Volkvolny despite having more captain-worthy vessels available. “Somehow, I don’t believe you’d allow that.”
“Right. If she wasn’t on this ship, I wouldn’t be either.”
Alina almost comes to the conclusion that you’re the sole reason he chose Volkvolny to be his flagship but she mostly dismisses that thought - Sturmhond may be doting but he’s far from completely losing his mind. He simply doesn’t give the impression of someone who’d shuffle his life around just to be able to creep on his boatswain. Little did she know at the time but the strangeness and dread the future holds is going to prove her wrong.
Their conversation is halted when one of the sailors on night watch passes by them. Alina recognizes him by the burn mark spreading across the right side of his face. Tolya called him ‘Marquis’. His long, blond hair sway in the cold wind. As he’s carrying a heavy crate from starboard to port, he’s quietly singing along to your song with certain carelessness as though he’s not entirely aware he’s doing it:
“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me-”
Alina yawns. She’s had a long, exciting day and tomorrow is not going to be any easier, that she’s sure of. Whatever she wants to tell Sturmhond will have to wait until dawn when the captain wriggles free of his heart’s restless desires. Even though at first she’s annoyed that she has to wait because Sturmhond decided to play a lovesick teenager, she quickly finds it may be for the best: an in-depth discussion will surely erupt between the two of them and doing so when the moon is high just doesn’t seem like the best idea. Aside from that, she can really use a few more hours of sleep.
The Sun Summoner murmurs something resembling ‘Goodnight’ to Sturmhond and turns around to go back to the room she shares with Tamar, when a great wave shakes the ship, throwing her against a wooden wall. Despite the impact not being exceptionally painful to her, she’s sore anyway, the sound of it carried quite well.
Hearing a thud, you look up out of reflex. Glancing around the deck, your watchful eyes stop on Sturmhond, who’s staring back at you. The privateer gives the impression that you’ve just become privy to a side of him he’s not so keen on showing. Perhaps ‘side’ doesn’t quite mirror the idea. ‘Layer’ seems more fitting. It’s as though he dropped the facade of quick wit and evasive answers, only to show the exhaustion of a man carrying the world on his shoulders for a day too long. Despite the silence and distance between you, this staring feels intimate; both of you are showing something raw to one another in the gullible hope that the other will keep it secret.
He appears different, more calm than smug, than he does during the day, although still beautiful enough to make you flustered. Truly, he looks like he breaks the hearts of naive girls for a living. Despite that, as well as your experience with sailors in general, you found yourself craving his attention. Whether it’s intentional or not, Sturmhond has the ability to make people feel seen and their efforts acknowledged. Considering that establishing your position among sea dogs as a woman is a real challenge, maybe it was your hurt ego that clawed at any possibility or delusion of your exceptionalism. And maybe the privateer never intended for you to be hopelessly in love with him. Sure, the two of you have flirted back and forth but you never assumed it means as much to him as it does to you. It’s just the way he is, right?
A sharp, stinging pain in your finger makes you yelp. Discarding fantasies about the blond man in an awful frock coat, you look at your sore hand, now noticing a drop of crimson slowly rolling down your skin.
“Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself.
You put the bleeding finger against your lips. It’s a small cut, it shouldn’t bleed longer than a minute or two and then you can get back to-
“Are you alright?”
Sturmhond’s worried tone elicits mixed but engaging feelings from you. On one hand, you’re giddy at any crumb of attention he gives you. On the other hand, you just failed at the second easiest maintenance job a ship can have - one Hell of a way to make a good impression on the captain that always seems to fall on four paws.
“Yeah, just pricked my finger with a needle fixing the net. Nothing fatal.”
“Why are you doing this anyway? You’re a boatswain. This is a deckhand’s job,” he says as he grabs the net from your hands and tosses it aside.
“Believe it or not but I actually enjoy this. It’s peaceful, helps me get my mind off of things.”
He gives you a cocky half-grin. “Pricking your finger is just a tasteful addition, I presume?”
“Oh, you know, just trying to enrich things,” you joke back.
Sturmhond lets out a quiet, resigned sigh. Of course, you told everyone to go to sleep and finished the odd jobs yourself. “Have Tamar look at this,” he says in a soft voice. Despite the suddenly mild demeanour, his smug expression stays in place. “I’ll get someone else to finish.”
“Alright, captain,” you reluctantly agree. “But can it wait a few minutes? I like it here.”
Your gaze returns to the sapphire waves and black firmament, the line of horizon barely distinguishable between them. To your own surprise, Sturmhond sits down next to you on a barrel. “Just a few,” he says insincerely. You may not know it but he’s willing to sit there with you for much longer than a few minutes.
Volkvolny bobs on the waves, headed somewhere in the South-East direction. Cold water sprays on your face and clothes but you don’t mind it. It’s quite refreshing. Only now do you notice how quiet the ship is. Most of the crew must already be asleep, revelling in the few hours of rest they have until dawn. The thought of sleeping sailors makes you aware of your own exhaustion, both physical and mental.
You barely stifle a yawn. Too tired to think twice, you lay your head against Sturmhond’s shoulder. He doesn’t shy away, quite the contrary - he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to his torso ever so slightly. He smells like expensive, imported cologne and seaweed. The fragrance is hardly likable but you’ve grown to earn some masochistic pleasure from it simply because it belongs to him. The blue frock coat he’s wearing feels nice against your skin.
“Why do you always sing that song?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.
“I always sing or hum doing manual jobs. It’s a habit I can’t kill,” you answer quietly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open and you can hear your words starting to slur. “I grew up in Novokribirsk. I know a lot of shanties.”
“Know anything happier than mourning a sailor?”
“Hardly,” you let out a tired chuckle. “Somehow, sailors have an aversion to happy songs. There’s one you might like.” You clear your throat, trying to recall the song from your cloudy, tired memories. “I’m a broken man on the Os Kervo pier, the last of Ravka’s privateers.”
Sturmhond furrows his eyebrows and he shakes his head in disapproval. “No, it’s still depressing.” Whether he means to or not, his finger is gently brushing circles against your arm.
“Alright, another one, um… Oh! Don’t haul on the ropes, don’t climb up the mast. If you see a sailing ship, it might be your last.”
“Ominous and tedious. I’m actually surprised you can put both in one song.”
To Sturmhond’s dissatisfaction, you pull away from him. Still, the distance between you is considerably small and you feel each other’s breaths on your skin. With half-lidded eyes out of exhaustion, you give him a wide smile. His breath shakes in his chest.
“You know, you might be the most optimistic sailor I’ve ever met,” you confess.
He could kiss you right now. Saints only know how much he wants to. If the odds are in his favour, and his vanity would like to think they are, you might even kiss him back. Or at least not slap him. Would your lips feel soft and warm against his? Would you taste of saltwater and rye bread like he always imagines? Would you giggle nervously after? In that specific way that makes him forget to breathe?
But Sturmhond can only hope your tired mind can’t compute his nervousness. “Does that title come with a prize?”
“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Is being the most optimistic sailor truly worth such honour?” he says in an overly dramatic tone. He jokingly puts his hand on his chest. “Are you not underestimating your presence, my lady?”
“You get extra credit because I like you. A lot.”
Sturmhond swallows nervously. Since when does he get nervous around women? For a moment you’re just staring at each other again. The desire to push his lips against yours is back flooding his mind, now stronger and more desperate than before. The first chance might have been a coincidence but the second… He slowly leans in, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But you look just as lovely as you did in the morning. His nose almost brushes yours and-
“I might have a happy one,” you suddenly speak up. You look back at the sea, furrowing your eyebrows in deep thought. “Saints, how did it go?” you whisper to yourself. “Prick your finger, it is done. Roll her out and spread her wings, the time has come for better things.”
Having mastered self-control, Sturmhond doesn’t make his disappointment visible. The third time’s the charm, right? “First one that doesn’t make me want to drown myself.” The bitterness in his voice is almost inaudible but you’re too tired to notice.
“I’ll sing you the whole thing but that has to wait until morning, alright?”
“I’m holding you to that.”
His heart quickens its beat when you lay your head back on his shoulder. He should probably tell you to go back to your berth and get some sleep but maybe it can wait a few minutes? He likes it here.
#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone fanfiction#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone x reader#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai x reader#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai lantsov x reader#sturmhond#sturmhond fanfiction#nikolai lanstov#shadow and bone netflix#sturmhond x reader#sturmhond x you#sturmhond imagine#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov x you#shadow and bone x you
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OH MY GOD I JSUT HAD AN IDEA. PAV WITH AN INSECURE GF :( hes so sad and he's js wondering why she feels like that :( and he like. buys her flowers and just like kisses all over her face and tells her all the things he loves about her :(
AHHHHHH PAV BABYYYYYY
….
Only you.
“Thithli, there is no one in any universe I love more.”
blushes giggles kicks feet twirls hair chokes a little coughs giggles again
—
There wasn’t a moment in time where Pavitr wasn’t infatuated with you.
From the second he’d seen you he’d already had all his love in his hands, down on his knees begging you take it from him and keep it for yourself.
He’d let you cave your way into his chest, rip his ribs and lungs apart. Let you curl yourself around his heart and make yourself home in his chest.
Everything about you made him feel like a sailor to the sea, called only by the softened sounds of your calming voice.
And every day, when you laid next to him, sleeping curled up against his chest. He would trace every line and crease of your face, every feature your body held. Every mark and blemish and would call you flawless.
Would close his eyes when his heart started beating a tad too fast, and would thank every god he’d ever known for bringing him to you.
So when you had the audacity, the gall— to feel insecure about any one thing, he had to shut that down like his life depended on it.
—
You were shaking, the trembles brimming under your skin a thorough show of your unnerve.
You were at an event, a pretty tame one considering the other Pav had bring you too.
And in the midst of all the talking and introducing, you had lost him. In a sea of around 150 people, you were isolated. Desolate in yourself.
So to say you were anxious was an understatement. You berated yourself, the small voice in your head giggling and snickering at your own anguish.
You should go find him.
Ohhh, yeah, sure. Cause if he walked away in an event he’d invited you too, he definitely wants to be found.
Jesus christ, It’s not like that.
Someone had brushed up against your shoulder, you jerked away quickly.
“I am so sorry.” You basically pleaded with the woman before she could even speak. She laughed happily, seeming to be completely okay with what just happened. “It’s no bother, sweetie. I bumped into you,” She laughed again. “,I should be the one apologising!”
You laughed with her this time, calmed but still beyond nervous. She turned away, leaking back into the sea of the crowd.
You damn clutz.
It’s fine, she wasn’t mad. She was nice, what the fuck are you on about.
She looked pissed.
She was smiling.
You felt insane, talking to yourself like this, you were in control of your own thoughts, why were they so against you?
Walking along the edge of everyone, in a decision to go find your Pav, you scanned the room for his face.
In the far corner, a way away from you, you caught sight of him.
He was lent against a wall, in a packed party, his hands gesturing wildly as he talked to a group of people. He paused for dramatic effect, before saying the lunch line. The group laughed with him, joyous in light of the story.
One of the girls, evidently closer to him than others, laughed exceptionally loud. Giggling and tapping his arm as she did. Pressing closer to him in a stumble, or, what was faked to be.
Pav glanced at her, paying no mind, before he slyly brushed her off. Your heart strengthened a little at the act. But when she pressed even closer, and he didn’t do anything about it, the hope was shattered.
Told you.
Please be quiet, just this once. Please.
..Okay.
You went to turn around, to get out of there before you could make yourself worse, you knew you were being irrational, insecure.
But you couldn’t help it, and when the girl caught your eye and smirked, your resolve had been broke. You turned quickly. making your way away from the party, from your lover.
You needed to get out of here.
Your thoughts were quiet, a buzzing running your mind. There was a sting in the back of your eyes but it was dull, like static had been shoved into your cortex.
Bile had rose to the back of your throat, trapped and never fully being enough to make you gag it up.
You ran cross the busy trafficked street, the cars were barely moving, but you still waved them down in thanks or sorry despite.
Like a woman from her crimes, you ran.
—
Pavitr shrugged the lady off once more, shooting her a nervous look. He was uncomfortable, and people were starting to take notice, except for her apparently. Seeing as every time he pushed her away, she pushed back stronger.
A witching giggle erupting when he made his jokes. He didn’t like this, going to tell the woman off, that he has a girlfriend, before someone else had done it for him.
Gwen basically came out of nowhere, which given the watch on her wrist— wouldn’t be impossible. She shoved her way between them. Putting her arm around Pav’s shoulder and chatting loudly.
He shot her a grateful look, sighing in relief while Gwen took the girls spot. Geeking him like an old pal before anyone in the circle could notice anything amiss, slowly, but forcefully pushing the girl farther and farther away from her friend.
“What’s up, Pav?” She smiled at him, speaking over the music playing. People greeted Gwen as she did back.
“Nothing much, Gwen.” He was genuinely happy now, his friend bringing him a security he hadn’t felt before.
“Where’s the girlfriend? She’s been coming to a lot of these with you, hasn’t she?” Gwen glanced at the scowling woman when she mentioned her.
“Oh! Yes, She’s been getting more and more comfortable with my family! So more family events. I’m so proud of her,” The stars in his eyes as he spoke “,Getting more confident as the days go by. I’m so happy with her.”
Gwen smiled at him, genuinely in awe that her friend had found someone to love like that. Who loved him back just as much, if ever more.
“She left.”
The grating voice of the woman brought it seemed, everyone in the inner-circle to freeze. She sound so smug, so happily responsible.
“What?”
“Oh, Yeah! A while ago, actually. Saw her leave when we were talking.”
Gwen cut it, anger lining her voice.
“And you didn’t say anything?”
The woman tried to play off innocent, trying to make it seem like Gwen was attacking her.
“What! Why would I? She looked pretty upset about something, Im not gonna intervene.”
“…Upset?” Pav whispered to himself.
Gwen peeled off of him, turning to the woman and indirectly interrogating her.
Pavitr took the chance to slip away, already on his way to grab his back and find his web slingers.
He reached the entrance to the main room, thanking the staff and grabbing his stuff.
Pulling out his phone he clicked on your contact, a photo of your squished cheeks between his thumb and forefinger while he kissed your temple the contact.
Pressing “Call Mobile.”, he waited for your answer. Putting his web slingers on in the closest ally he could find.
“C’mon, Shonu pick up.”
He put on his mask, not bothering with the rest of the shit while the tone rang out. Cursing something sweet, he put his phone in his bag, and swung it across his shoulders, shooting webs on either corner of the building, and launching himself forward.
—
When you came to it, there was a knock at the door.
You had spent the better half of an hour sitting in your bed, doing little to nothing but thinking about every flaw you could behold.
The way your voice sounded when you talked.
How you got nervous so easily, always in need of Pav’s soothing words to talk you through it.
To how you cried so much, and the annoyance that would cause him.
Every other thing stacked up and piled into this ugly amalgamation of why he would want to leave you.
And it was a lot of things.
You groaned as you got up, wiping the tears from your stained face, and patting your eyes to make them seem less puffy as you opened the door.
Pavitr was right behind it, flowers almost dead in his hand from how high speeds he was going to get to you.
“Did someone die?”
“Wha— Pav, no. No one died.”
“Okay good, because I got these flowers thinking I could be romantic but then realised if someone had died, probably not the time for romance.”
You giggled, the thoughts clouding you mind fading away for a moment and you relished in it.
“Can I come in?”
His voice was soft, and with the way his free hand reached out to caress the apple of your cheek. Thumb wiping away the remaining tears and comforting your heart. You couldn’t refuse him. Nodding to him, his hand fell from your face. You opened the door wider, letting him through before closing and locking it.
He went for your couch, ready to sit and talk to you. He wanted to know why you left, and not to take that lady’s words to heart—. But if you were upset, he needed to be there for you. In his heart, his head, every sense of his self— That’s what should be as a partner. The shoulder to cry on, man to love, and to love you himself. To give his all to you and let you take anything from him.
You followed him to the couch, sitting next to him like a scolded child, guilt scratching at your gut.
He kissed your temple, placing the flopping bouquet on your coffee table.
“[Name], Whats wrong? Why’d you leave without coming to get me?”
You cringed, looking down at your hands. “I didn’t mean to—,” your voice was trembling. “,—I just..”
You cut yourself off, pushing the ball of your palms into your eyes, the tears falling from the creases of your eyes and being wiped away in the same beat.
“I freaked.”
You sighed out, shaking in every inhale.
Pavitr’s shoulders sagged, a kind of saddened relief. Still worried but not nearly as much.
“You know you can come get me anytime you need baby, you must’ve walked all the way here, I mean—“
“—I tried.”
He paused. The sentence making his words fall flat in his mouth.
“Thithli—“
“You were with that— that girl. And I couldn’t—“
“[Name].” His stern voice interrupted.
“Sorry.”
“Please, Pari, don’t be.” He grabbed your hands, coddling them up in his own and shuffling himself closer to you. His knees brushing yours. You looked up at him, watching the smile lines etched into his skin slowly from.
“You know it’s only you, right?”
He was as breathless as you, less of a nerve ridden thing. More of a bashful blow.
A dumb noise left your mouth, a whine mixed with a sob. “I know.”
“Shonu. You are the only person in any universe I could love the way I do,” He promised you, the sincerity in his voice putting your mind at an ease only he could bring.
“,You understand?”
He moved ever closer, slipping his hands from yours to grab your waist and pull you over him.
“Yeah—… Yes.”
“Good.” He smiled. He kissed the crease between your brows, smoothening it away.
Your teary smile melted his heart. Small whines still wracking your body.
“I know, Thithli, I know.” He whispered to you, rubbing your skin in hypnotising circles.
—
Later that week, you returned home to see flower (admittedly more alive) on your kitchen counter, chocolates and sweets placed next to it.
A basket of skin care, sweets and anything you could think of on your couch.
You put the flowers in your spare vase, running a small bit of water for the plants to drink. Putting the chocolates in the fridge, not before nicking one. The caramel of the sweet making your heart ache.
You entered your room, a small envelope with a heart on the lip gaining your attention.
You approached with a smile, slipping your thumb under the paper to pull out the card.
A spider-man themed card was in your palm, you giggled at the silly image of your boyfriend on the front.
You opened it up, the words “Happy Birthday! You’re eight!” Crudely scribbled out and replaced with Pav’s messy handwriting.
“Have a good day, Shonu. I love you.”
—
once more i got out of hand this was meant to be 200 words tops
#atsv pavitr#pavitr prabhakar#pavitr x reader#pavitr my beloved#pavitr x you#spiderverse pavitr#Pavitr#across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderverse x reader
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I am so glad you have anons turned on... ahem. You don't have to do this if you don't want to, though!
Kinktober 29 + Alucard! (Castlevania)
A/N: I don't know what you did to me but I've been possessed once again for this ask holy shit. Tentacle anon lemme kiss u on the mouth ;; hope you enjoy MWUAH (also a firm believer he'll always be a lover boy no matter what) AU TIME
Tentacles x Alucard
“Adrian! I can’t believe you’re the little thief!” You gasped, scandalized that your sea-friend would be the one who’s been stealing all the balls that kept magically ‘floating away’ in the ocean. He shrugged with a sly grin, his tentacles sprawled around him keeping him afloat. You’d met the mystical half sea creature months ago by this point, you’d been paddling out to sea for fun, realizing that you’d gotten entirely too far from shore. Before you were able to panic, you saw the tiniest little cove a bit farther out, deciding to rest inside of it before making a plan to go back to shore, back home. Instead what you got was the scare of your life, a tentacle gripping at your ankle and with a shriek you fell back into the side. The playful little fiend crept out with wide eyes, not expecting to ever have a human here in his home. You mirrored the look, thinking you’d finally gone insane seeing something with the top half of a man and bottom half of an...octopus? Lots of screaming, and explaining later, your fears were quelled, and after hours of talking, you felt you made a friend.
And you did! Visiting him as often as you could out here, bringing him food that you’ve made from your home, and him giving you small trinkets he’s found lost at sea. (Most recently he’d given you a pearl necklace he said he made himself. You would have seen the scarlet bloom across his neck and chest, should you not turn away trying to calm your own beating heart.) You learned he’s the rumored ‘Alucard’, the sea monster that eats the sailors off at sea. (‘Why the fuck would I do that?” he reasoned) You also learned there’s more of his kind, he has friends he sees every so often, even has loving parents deeper in the ocean bed. But he likes to spend alone time here, closer to humans. He likes listening to the different sounds above the water. Sometimes you’d even see him out in the ocean, closer to the shores if there wasn’t anyone around. You started going to the shores late in the night, if only to see him twice a day. (You think he stays coming back to the cove because of you, but neither of you will speak it out loud.)
“I’m not stealing them. They really do get lost out here! What am I supposed to do, bring them back? Someone’s going to see me.” He couldn’t help but grin like the cheshire cat, using a tentacle to grab at one of the ‘lost’ beach balls, bouncing it over to you and you rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re terrible” Of course you’d never want him to actually go back and give them back--someone finding out about his existence could have very well been the end of his life, him trusting you enough to let you go was a huge feat for the merman. “I actually have something else for you.”
“Ooh, another beach ball?”
“Quiet you, come here.”
You huffed, crawling over to where he lounged and sitting in front of him, waiting. For the first time since the pearl necklace, you saw Alucard looking nervous. You gave him time, raising a brow and cocking your head urging him to continue. From behind his back, he pulled out a clamshell, “I promise the clam wasn’t alive when I found it.” He mumbled, pushing it towards you. You blinked, confused. This wasn’t the first shell he’s given you, but it was quite...lackluster, in comparison to the rest he’d given you. Plus, he looked entirely too nervous for a shell! “Thank you, Alucard.” You teased, laughing when you heard him groan. “Hush, ridiculous fucking name...the shell isn’t your gift.” He paused. “Open it.” the top flipped up and you nearly dropped it out of pure shock. What lay inside was the most gorgeous ring you’d ever seen. A beautiful moss agate stone set in the middle, smaller pieces of diamonds dotted around the band. It was an intricate piece, one that you’d be devastated to lose if you were the original owner of this ring. “Adrian, I...what...oh my god” You couldn’t even form sentences, in too much shock a ring like this existed floating in the ocean. You looked at him, mouth agape. “How did you find this? Where did you find this? It’s in perfect condition!” you were scared to even touch the thing.
He stayed quiet for a moment, shuffling over to you. “I didn’t find it.” He admitted. “I ah...I had it made.”
....
What?
“You said your favorite color was green. And you love the forest. So I thought this made the most sense for you. I know you’d rather live in the woods, but the ocean is beautiful too. I think you’d really like it here.” His voice was barely above a whisper, shaky hand bringing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Adrian, I don’t understand...”
You did. You just couldn’t believe it until he said it out loud. It all felt like a dream.
“I love you.”
Your breath hitched.
“And I would like to marry you. And have you move with me, into the ocean. With the rest of my kind.”
Your head was spinning, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Adrian panicked, hands frantically wiping away at your tears, unknowing that they were happy tears. “Please, please don’t cry. We don’t have to talk about this now, or at all, if you’re not comfortable it’s okay--” You cut him off with a kiss, your first shared kiss, hands smoothing his beautiful blonde locks. “Adrian, I love you.” Your admission knocked the wind out his lungs, head reeling that someone like him could have someone like you fall in love with him. “But how can this work? I mean, really, I’m not like you, I don’t...” He hushed you, placing another chaste kiss on your lips. “There’s more about my world that you don’t know, but I promise we can get you there. It’ll be our world soon, angel”
You had no idea what he meant, or how it’d work, but in the meantime, you carefully took the ring out of the shell and gingerly placed it on your ring finger on your left hand. Your vision tunneled on the ring, holding your hand up to see it glimmering in the sunlight that shone through the cove. “It’s gorgeous, Adrian...” You could cry right now, and almost started to too if you didn’t try as hard as you were from keeping it together. “Be with me, please..” He connected his lips to you again, tentacles wrapping themselves around your middle as your hands carded through his hair. Adrian bit at your lower lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth when you permitted and deepening the kiss. What was once slow and sweet became a flurry of moans, tongue and teeth, anticipation and lust. He kissed and nipped at your jawline, your throat, your shoulders. “Will you let me touch you?” Adrian whispered, hands hovering over your body. You nodded, lifting your bathing top off your body and pushing his hands onto your chest. His breathing stuttered, kneading and pinching at your body. “So beautiful, angel.” He murmured, dipping a tentacle at the hem of your bottoms, another joining by the edge of your pussy. You gasped, feeling yourself clench around nothing.
You’d never thought yourself to be prude you just...never thought about being fucked by tentacles. Or a merman. But, fuck, if you weren’t turned on thinking about Adrian doing what he wanted with you before whisking you away to the deepest parts of the ocean. You pressed yourself closer to him, letting the tentacles pull away your bottoms. A hand came down to tease at your entrance, feeling the slick dripping on his fingers. “So wet..all for me?” He cooed, smiling when he felt you nodding against the crook of his neck. He wouldn’t tease you much, not this time--feeling much too impatient. His fingers slid into your pretty cunt with ease, so turned on you could have been ready for him right then and there. “Fuck, look at you.” He murmured, scissoring his fingers inside of you. He knows this wouldn’t be your first sexual encounter. He’s (unfortunately) heard of previous partners of your life, but none of them had the physiology that he had, he needed to prep you. “Darling, I need you to trust me, okay?” You furrowed your brows, humping at his fingers barely able to pay attention to what he was saying. “‘Kay, anything Adrian.” you murmured, before feeling the fingers replaced with something else. Something long, a bit slimy, definitely thicker. You cried out, hearing you gush and squelch around the intrusion. “Adrian!” You gasped, looking down at the juncture of your hips and seeing his tentacle pumping deep into your sloppy pussy.
You couldn’t believe how hot and bothered you were, seeing him fucking you with the intrusive appendage. Your hips rolled towards him, the tentacle slowly pumping in and out of you. It poked and prodded at your walls, the suctions ribbing at your hole and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your mouth fell open with a moan, head leaning back. “Gotta loosen you up like this, sweetheart, gotta get you ready..” You heard the merman speak, but the ringing in your ear didn’t help. His lips wrapped around a nipple, hand playing with the other. Simultaneously more of his tentacles wrapped themselves around your legs and arms, rubbing and squeezing at your appendages as the one still in your pussy pushed further in, kissing what felt like the entrance to your womb. You shrieked, clenching down hard on the tentacle with the immense amount of pleasure and hint of pain you were feeling. “Fuckfuckfuck, Adrian,” You mumbled, hands holding onto his shoulders, “feels good in my pussy, a-aah fuck!” You cried, humping at the appendage. He kept his mouth busy with your chest, a tentacle letting go on an arm to kiss your clit with the small suction on the tip, rubbing at the nub and leaving it slimy. He’d suction to it and let go, imitating sucking on the quickly swelling bundle of nerves. “Want you like this forever, darling girl” he mused, laving a tongue over your skin and leaving bites and love marks around your tits. His hands gripped at your hips, lips pressing against yours with a new fire lit. The tentacles working on your cunt were driving you to your climax, tentacle wrapped around your thigh pushing your leg farther apart. Alucard looked down at his added appendage fucking into you, and how juicy and wet you were. It was intoxicating, and he realized quickly he could have you like this more than he’d like to admit.
“Wanna feel you on me, darling.” He cooed, pushing the tentacle deeper in you and curling, acting almost like a large tongue licking inside your sloppy little cunt, smile curling on his face when he heard the squeal he was looking for, feeling you gush around him. The suction cups held the stickiness of your pussy, Alucard swiping at a few to taste your cum on his tongue. He moaned lowly, nearly angry at himself for not having your first orgasm be on his tongue. But there’d be so many after this time anyways, he didn’t have to worry, you’d be his forever. “Would you like a taste?” You nodded dumbly, limbs feeling like jello. You thought he’d kiss you, instead you had his tentacle shoved into you mouth, squirming around to taste your own mess in your mouth. Another immediate, albeit small shockwave hit your pussy, dripping down your legs with how turned on having his appendage in your mouth made you feel. Adrian swiped at your pussy, sucking up and licking as much of your cum as you’d give him, “Can’t believe you came again just by that.” Big words honestly for someone that was about ready to cum untouched with how hot you were. Most of his cock fit inside his body, length too long for his kind to have it floating out. He kept the first tentacle in your mouth, loving the way you sucked on it and didn’t let go. “Relax for me, darling girl.” He whispered, feeding his huge cock into your tight wet hole. You squealed around him, the head of his cock so big it already felt like you were being split apart. But it felt so fucking good having him filling you up like this, pushing and pushing at your walls until you were filled to the brim with his engorged cock. You mumbled around him, swiveling and bucking your hips on him, squirming. “Let’s keep you still so I don’t hurt you,” More of his tentacles held your limbs enough for you to not be able to move freely, one still suckling and teasing at your clit with another dipping in teasingly next to his cock, almost as if taunting you--as if you could ever have two of these things inside you at the same time.
Your eyes rolled back, cheeks bulging with the size of his tentacle, tears staining your face whenever the tip hit the back of your throat, Adrian wanted this to be romantic, he swears, but the way you sucked him in--the way you got excited with his tentacles touching you, it was so difficult to keep going like that. His primal instincts were kicking in hard, wanting to claim you fully in every way. His upper body leaned back to take in the sight of you being impaled over and over on his cock, seeing your creamy cunt swallow him up. Your pussy was so juicy, squelches reverberating off the walls of the cove. It was nearly as loud as your muffle moans, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth as your jaw stayed pried open. “Fuck, darling, nor gonna last like this.” He murmured, holding onto your hips once more to slam you down as deep as you could take him, fucking into you over and over until his tentacled cock spurted deep inside you. You swore you could feel his cum filling your stomach, your womb, filling all of you as the excess spilled around the edges no matter how plugged he had you. Adrian panted, slowly retracting his cock from your abused pussy, seeing how his cum dripped out of you in globs onto the floor. He removed his remaining tentacles, smoothing his hands over you and rubbing at your face, nuzzling his nose into yours and your cheek, kissing at you. “I’m sorry honey, I couldn’t help it, you looked so good.” He begged for forgiveness, weaving his fingers with yours.
You smiled, kissing him back with the strength you had, “honey, we can take it slow next time. We have all the time in the world.”
#milk writes#adrian tepes#alucard#alucard x reader#castlevania#adrian tepes x reader#alucard tepes x reader#castlevania (2017)#milk kinktober#Castlevania AU#smut#alucard smut#adrian tepes smut#castlevania smut
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Since it's Black Friday week, I'm gonna do a sort of series thing with the Hatchetverse headcanons and drabbles that have completely derailed my nanowrimo plans (curse of hyperfixation be upon ye, etc.).
They're all Spankoffski-centric, sort of, depending on who you count as a Spankoffski.
Speaking of which...
*
Ted and Pete's mom (I'll call her Annabelle, Annie for short) grew up in the bible belt in a super-religious family. She got out as soon as she could, leaving home at 18, and ended up working as a waitress in the tiny town of Hatchetfield. That's where she met Ed Spankoffski, who at the time was training to take over his family's shoe store. Annie and Ed fell in love, got married young, and had their son Teddy within a few years.
Annie cut all contact with her parents when she left home - but she did keep in touch with her younger brother.
He was always a smart, outgoing kid, and despite their parents' disapproval he managed to get funding to study physics at a college out of state. He left home a year after Annie did, and never looked back.
At first they remained close, despite their differences. They called each other regularly. He declared himself an atheist as soon as he got away from their parents. She kept her faith, but joined her husband's more liberal-minded presbytarian church. He came out to her as bisexual, and she told him she'd suspected that since they were teenagers and that she would never stop being proud of him.
She didn't see him in person often - he was busy with college and didn't have money to travel - but he still made it to her wedding and to Teddy's christening.
Things changed, though, when he was scouted by a secretive military agency in his final year. She didn't want him to join, but he'd made up his mind. After that, his calls became less frequent, and what little he told her about his work and life was always vague. He kept promising to visit her in Hatchetfield, but never followed through.
The last time Annie Spankoffski saw her little brother was at Pete's christening, when he surprised her by actually showing up. She spotted the engagement ring on his hand, and demanded to know when he had planned on inviting her to the wedding. He told her it was a long time away yet - there was a big assignment coming up, he and his fiancé were both involved, and they needed to focus on that for the time being. But as soon he got the chance, he promised, he'd bring John up to Hatchetfield to meet the Spankoffski family.
Annie didn't hear from him again until a solemn, uniformed PIEP agent turned up at her door with a letter declaring her brother missing in action. Nothing could be confirmed, but the agent didn't want to give her false hope. There was no funeral, no further explanation. She never got to meet John, there was no wedding, and Pete Spankoffski grew up without knowing his uncle.
*
Years later, Annie Spankoffski (nee. Cross) is driving home from church when an advert comes on the radio. It's for some tacky children's toy that both of her sons are far too old for. She doesn't pay much attention - at least, not until the name of the toy company catches her by surprise.
It's a coincidence - it must be - but it's such a horrible, unlikely one that it makes her blood run cold. Her brother's name is already rare enough that she'd be surprised to hear that on the radio, let alone a childhood nickname that only she used.
After that, she turns off the radio whenever that advert starts. Leaves the room whenever it comes on TV (that old sailor character creeps her out - does the actor really look familiar, or is she just losing it?). She tries not to look at the posters that are plastered all over the Hatchetfield mall.
But as Black Friday approaches, it's hard to avoid.
For some reason, almost everywhere she goes, she keeps running into the name Uncle Wiley.
#thank you to the person who left a tag on my other wiley post about him being pete and ted's real uncle!#i may have thought too hard about the implications#and here's the result#hatchetverse#black friday#starkid#wilbur cross#uncle wiley#macnacross#spankoffski bros#cw religion
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delightful ❄️
Bradley Bradshaw × Reader
wc - 1.9k
warnings - FLUFF, talks of seasonal depression & spending the holiday season alone.
disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!
a/n - this fic is part of the wonderful @sailor-aviator’s Christmas Challenge!! this is my first writing challenge & my first seasonal fic! hope y’all enjoy this one 🤍 title is taken from ‘let it snow’ ❄️
comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
Christmas. The holiday season that everyone around you seemed to love. You however struggled this time of year, being so far away from what little family you had left was never easy on a regular day, holidays just amplified that longing - something Bradley could relate to all too well.
You couldn’t lie, you loved how the twinkling Christmas lights helped to cheer in the cold, dark nights. But you dreaded being alone, when everyone around you couldn’t stop raving about going home for the holidays and growing more and more excited, while your seasonal depression worsened.
At the first mention of tnr holiday season, Bradley was expecting you to be full of seasonal cheer, but in a way was gladly surprised that you too had lacked the stereotypical family atmosphere during the holidays. He lost both his parents and have a very fractured relationship with Maverick, his only real family, which led to many years he spent the entire holiday season alone. You had very little family left, those who you did have, an estranged aunt and uncle you barely knew, lived halfway across the world. The relationship between you was basically nonexistent, and there was no way ok your meagre salary, that you could afford to fly out to spend the holidays with them.
When you had met Bradley, you were initially cautious of his attitude towards the holiday period. There was no way you could be in a friendship or a relationship with someone who lives and breathes the season. You wouldn’t be able to stand it. You heart lifted when it was revealed that Bradley had the same attitude as you, he wasn’t going to try and change you and your feelings. Instead, he’d respect them and let you celebrate however much or little you wanted.
When December arrived, you immediately became much more gloomy and irritated. You didn’t need to look at the calendar to know the reasoning behind your sudden distaste for everything and everyone around you. The nights grew longer and darker, and you felt less and less like yourself. Bradley had severely underestimated how much you disliked the holidays, assuming you were just being over dramatic like you were known to be on subjects you felt strongly about. He swore that his heart physically hurt knowing how much you hated the holidays, the switch from your usual chipper routine, to barely being able to drag yourself out of bed for work.
You sighed heavily, collapsing onto the sofa, ignoring the snort from Bradley at your dramatics. “What now?” He chuckled, you got very dramatic around stressful situations, and the holiday season was the highlight. Truly he did care about how you were doing, but he only found amusement in these situations due to the one time you broke down crying laughing at how badly you’d overreacted over a tiny trivial thing, he knew you’d never take offence to his laughter.
“I completely forgot that everybody decides to do their Christmas shopping so incredibly last minute!! Like, why are you shopping for presents the week before the holidays?!” You huffed dramatically, unable to withhold your laughter at Bradley’s expression, trying desperately to hold a straight face while you acted out your day. “I don’t know, baby. But I’m thankful for them providing me with this entertainment.” You gasped in faux outrage at his words, grabbing a pillow from beside you and throwing it in his direction without looking, yelling in victory when you heard him yell at the unanticipated contact.
Bradley was cautious about voicing his next statement, already anticipating you to blow up at him, but being polite like his mother raised him to be, “Y’know, you shouldn’t be cooped up in your tiny apartment for Christmas.” He held the cushion in front of him, a pathetic attempt at a shield from your incoming wrath. Eyes widening at your sudden silence, he was quick to add, “Bub…I just meant, I also have to spend the holidays alone, in this big empty house.” He’s by your side now, hands running placatingly on your arms. “What if we spend it together? We can pick out a tree from that lot that Bob can’t stop raving about, you can teach me to bake those cookies we talked about, maybe just make it like any other day, if that’s what you really want?”
Your tense expression melted, tears seeking up in your eyes, not entirely certain whether it was due to the season, or your loving, highly attentive to detail boyfriend’s reaction and creation of alternatives for you, other than your entirely more depressing current tradition of spending the day in your bed, pillow over your head and duvet pulled over you.
Bradley froze at your sudden emotional breakdown. Presuming he had spoken out of turn and instead of pissing you off, had broken your heart, something he swore to himself and his parents that he would never do to you. Internally panicking momentarily, relaxing when you merely snuggled closer to him, curling up on his lap, your head buried in his neck.
The house was cold. That was the first thing you noticed when you got to Bradley’s late after your shift on Christmas Eve. You lived in San Diego. It did not get this cold, ever. Frowning, you trudge through the entryway, kicking off your shoes, then wincing as your socked feet meet the cold tiled floor. You called out for Bradley, he had texted you before you left work, asking you to come over, you assumed for a quick present swap. He had been ignoring your texts and calls since you gave him confirmation that you would be there. He must’ve turned the air conditioning down as low as it could go, which in summer would have been luxurious, but now?
Now, the drizzle and gloom outside was continued indoors, which kept you frowning as you move through the house looking for Bradley.
Hearing soft humming of Christmas songs from the kitchen, you scurry through the house, keeping your feet off the cold floor as best you could. You’d have to get Bradley to fix the AC. “Woah! Stop there! Close your eyes, this is a surprise, sweetheart!” You groaned, reluctantly closing your eyes, feeling a warm presence move in front of you, a soft kiss being pressed to the top of your head as a soft silk is tied delicately over your eyes.
“Bradley…” you whine softly, trusting him, but clueless as to where this was going. He chuckled, his breath fanning gently onto your cheek, a welcome warmth from the chill in the air. Rubbing his hand up and down your arms, appreciative that you were still in your thin work uniform, trying to warm you back up as best he could, “I’m gonna lead you upstairs, then I’m changing you into something warmer, okay?” You whined at the sheer unknown, but gave into the significant trust you had in your boyfriend.
He carefully pulled off your uniform, his warm hands welcome against your cold skin, goosebumps erupting down your arms. A soft, fleecy, warm shirt was pulled up your arms, and Bradley buttoned it up with immense care and precision. Next were the fleecy pants, which you felt were too long for you, and giggled as Bradley pulled on a fresh pair of fuzzy socks. You squealed as Bradley scooped you up bridal style, peppering your face with soft kisses, chuckling at your soft laughter.
Downstairs, he places you gently onto the couch, greeted now by a warmth the room lacked when you arrived. Warm breath fans gently across your cheek as Bradley gently unties the blindfold, squinting as your eyes adjust to the light. The room is bathed in a soft warm light, the scraggly tree you both had picked out and decorated the week before was twinkling softly, but wasn’t what made your eyes well with tears. The fireplace that usually stayed empty due to the warm California weather, was crackling with fresh logs, the fire casting a warm and cosy glow over the entire room.
There was also an extra stocking hanging from the mantle. Where usually there were just three - Goose, Carole and Bradley - there was one with your name lovingly hand stitched, matching the theme of the original trio. Swallowing thickly you glance at Bradley who shrugged nonchalantly, "I didn't have anyone else to spend Christmas with. Hope you don't mind if I spend it with you. Share old traditions…Maybe make some of our own…”
Throwing yourself at him, you hug Bradley tightly. It had been mentioned only in passing that growing up you never had your own stocking like most children, and your only happy holiday memory was spending quality time snuggled together with your family in front of the fireplace.
Bradley ran a soothing hand across your cheek, wiping away the tears you were unaware had started to fall. You had never had someone pay such attention to minute details you shared, not expecting them to remember them months later.
But Bradley was not someone from your past.
He is your future.
Several classic Christmas movies later, you were snuggled closely against Bradley’s side, under one of the seasonal blankets he ‘allowed’ you to keep at his place, It’s a Wonderful Life playing in the background. Your half drunk mugs of hot chocolate sat on the coffee table alongside platters of sweet treats Bradley had bought just for the two of you to share, alongside the decorated sugar cookies that the pair of you had made from an old recipe of Carole’s.
Humming contentedly, you crane your neck to glance up at the face of your loving boyfriend, feeling your eyes on him, he turns, kissing you lovingly, pulling you closer to him. “Happy?” You nod against his shoulder, “This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years, Bradley.” He smiles softly at your words, “You know, if you wanted…” He shrugged, trailing off, frowning, you shift and straddle his lap to get a better look at him. “What? If I wanted to what?” Bradley shook his head, a bashful expression on face, narrowing your eyes, you grabbed his chin gently, forcing him to look at you again.
“I wanna spend every Christmas like this with you.”
“Every Christmas?”
He nods.
“Move in with me.”
“Yes.”
“Why? Because I miss you when you’re not- Wait, yes?! You’ll move in?!” His expression frozen, not believing his ears.
Nodding and kissing him once, his eyes light up, grin taking over his face, laughing joyfully, tugging you close to his chest, covering your face in kiss after kiss after kiss. You join him in laughter at his reaction, tugging him down to lay on top of you, being lovingly overwhelmed by everything Bradley.
If this is how every Christmas would end up, snuggled up in front of a fireplace with the love of your life?
If this is what your future looks like, then you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with Bradley.
#allina writes#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#tgm fanfiction#top gun maverick fic
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Beside you - Jamie Drysdale
“ you feel like home, and everywhere I’ve never been. All at once “
- butterflies rising
Word count: 1K
She’d fallen in love with Jamie Drysdale the summer of her junior year of high school. He was pale skin, freckles dusted on the apples of his cheeks, dark hair and piercing blue eyes.
It was a blur of hours spent in his backyard. Talking about what they hoped senior year would bring. Laugher and big smiles as the two rode their bikes down the streets of Torontos suburbs.
“What do you wanna be when you grow up?” Jamie’s voice had sliced through the comfortable silence like a knife. The darkness consuming the four walls of his bedroom as they lay under the blankets on his bed. Legs tangled together and one of her hands running through the strands of hair on his head. Jamie laying on top of her, the side of his face pressed against her chest listening to the rhythmic beating of her heart.
“I think I’d like to be a teacher. Kindergarten. What about you? I know you wanna be a hockey player but what if?” Jamie hums in thought.
“If I can’t play hockey I’d be a coach. Teach little kids how to play, watch them grow to love the game like I do.” The girl smiles at that, an image playing in her head of Jamie teaching young boys and girls how to skate. How to shoot the puck on net and grow their confidence step by step.
What nobody tells you when you fall in love at the age of 16 is that with love, with love comes your first heartbreak.
When we both fall asleep, underneath the same sky
To the beat of our hearts at the same time
So close but so far away
Can you hear me?
Tossing and turning on her bed her mind goes back to the freckled boy. She wished he could hear her thoughts wherever he is right now.
The very same freckled boy was laying in his bed, a newly familiar bedroom in Pennsylvania. Thinking of the girl back home in Toronto and how he left his heart back there with her.
“I wish you could hear me right now Y/N.”
My heart wants to come home
I wish I was, I wish I was
Beside you
She watches the NHL draft when she knows it’s his year. Tears pricking at her eyes when his name gets called. Fingers itching to send a text. Tell him how proud she’s feeling in this moment but she doesn’t. A small voice in her head telling her he’s forgotten all about her. That the two kids that fell in love is just a distant memory now.
Heart aching, longing to be back to that summer. To be with the person who still two years later holds every tiny piece of her heart in his hands.
A heart and soul that wants to come home. Home being Jamie’s arms and the way he smiled everytime they locked eyes. The comfort of his presence when he walked into a room. Pulling people in without even trying, like a siren song to sailors in the ocean. Captivating.
There is no home like the one next to Jamie and god if she doesn’t want to go back home when she sees him on the tv. Even more beautiful now than when she last saw him:
Another day, and I'm somewhere new
I made a promise that I'll come home soon
Bring me back, bring me back to you
They say if you love something you let it go, if it’s meant to be it will find it’s way back to you.
It’s something she’s been telling herself since she said goodbye to Jamie. That they’ll find their way back somehow.
It’s been almost three years and they’re both still wandering around, having missed the right turns to find their ways back. She moved out of Toronto the summer she graduated from high school, leaving no way for Jamie to find her when he came back.
He’s been aimlessly searching for the girl since.
Seeing her face in every person he crosses on the street. His promise of that he’d come back looming over his head like a rain cloud.
There are pieces of us both
Under every city light
And the shining as we fade into the night
Their first kiss had happened during one of their walks late at night. Jamie’s hand had brushed against hers, a blush rising on both of their cheeks at the small sparks that ran from the tip of their fingers to their chests.
Jamie deciding that he wanted to be brave had grasped her cold hand. Thumb rubbing the girls knuckles as he stopped walking.
Standing still under the glow of a street lamp Jamie looked down at her. The boys blue eyes looking darker than usual from the darkened sky and overhead light.
Taking a deep breath he utters the words he’s been wanting to say since he first met her a month ago. “Can I kiss you?”
Standing on her toes she slots her lips against Jamies. Everything around them fading away as they stand there for ages. Kissing, hands sprawled across their cheeks and teeth knocking together from smiling so hard.
She knew then she was going to fall in love with Jamie and he knew the same. That this first kiss sealed the deal of their love.
Some loves happen so you know what love is supposed to feel like, they’re not meant to last but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when it ends. When it ends it still hurts just as much as.
It hurts because you believed it was meant to last. That this other person is the one made specifically for you and when they leave this gaping hole inside you grows and grows where they’re supposed to be.
So she lays there in her bedroom, mind and body restless like it has been since Jamie left. Yearning for him to bring back the pieces of her she left with him and that he’ll finally be back beside her once again.
I miss you Jamie whispered into the air before her eyelids grows too heavy and she falls into a heavy sleep, dreaming of pale skin and blue eyes.
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Hello, greetings from CQ again! Thank you again for meeting the North Stars so positively, I can't express how ecstatic it made me to see how receptive one could be. This time around, I come bearing one of the aforementioned minor, (but still just as important), members! (Featuring a small sneak peak at the leader's Devil Fruit-) I hope you'll allow me to introduce.... …˚.⋆ ⋆₊⁺⋆☾⋆₊⁺⋆ ☾ ℕ𝕒𝕟𝕒 ℍ𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕊𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕟 ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆.˚…
"Silence speaks a thousand words."
For the deaf-born Nana Hanon, no words rang more true. But having been born a siren, his inability to vocalize left him as significant as a bubble in the waves that were his namesake. That special breed of merfolk blessed with the gift of spellbinding song, had been slaughtered to near extinction for the perceived threat they posed to sailors, and other merfolk didn't take kindly to their mere existence besmirching their already tainted reputation in the eyes of the World Nobles. Thus, to his vindictive family, spiteful towards the world for the hand they were dealt, a siren without a song was of no more worth than chum.
They were quick to cast away the Moon Jellyfish merman, and he had resigned himself to drifting through the seas. In his travels, he taught himself to navigate the world's vast waters, to communicate by means of the written, and to read the scripted words of others. He found solace in them—fantastical tales by imaginative authors birthing entire universes bound to a spine, scripts belonging to playwrights of the past bringing life to false identities, and profound lines from passionate poets who invited readers to enter their mind. He discovered a particular fondness for the last of which, and often he would find himself expressing his thoughts and feelings to only the paper that would lend its ear.
But even paper couldn't perceive the silent echoes of his desperate cries for help.
A merman was a merman, deaf or not, siren or otherwise, so when Hanon had the misfortune of drawing too close to Sabaody Archipelago and being spotted, it came as no surprise that someone would take advantage of valuable property that couldn't even protest being sold. And sold, he was, to the highest bidder. He couldn't even hear what his worth was to his buyer.
Carted out in a fish bowl far too small to comfortably contain his bell, he let his tears fade into the water he was submerged in. In his sorrow, however, he almost didn't notice the way his new owner's body seemed to move against its will. How his owner was outwardly resisting a dance they were being forced to partake in. How his owner was removing the lid on his bowl and freeing him from his chains before prancing off, defiant as ever. How now, in their place, stood a woman, returning to him his previously discarded notebook and pen and lending him an ear for his unspoken words to fall on.
Where song failed to allure, Hanon's heartfelt prose succeeded. The woman, entranced by every word he put to paper as he regaled her with his personal story and the overwhelming sentiment in every stanza he scribbled, offered to him a place beside her, in his own sea to call home—a sea of stars to swim in and shine along with.
So came to be the Silent Siren, assistant songwriter and navigator of the North Stars. Though he'd be taking a backseat to let the idols sparkle even brighter on their stage of midnight, he was content to glow with borrowed light and finally let his soundless voice be heard once and for all. Likewise, they were grateful to have a moon to guide their way.
After all, what are the stars without a moon to share the night sky with?
----- I know I didn't give much insight on his personality, but I was thinking he might get along with your character, at least from what I know of her, if that's not too presumptuous. ^^; I might be dropping in again with another member soon! Might be a little while so I won't be spamming or flooding your inbox too much, aha- Much love as always, dear! ♡♡♡
THE WAY I AM IN LOVE WITH NANA HANON. AAAAAAAAAAAAA.
Oh my gosh, a silent siren merman? AAAAAAAAAAAAA
Tobiuo would love to meet him. Her canon sister, Masami, is a mermaid based on an angler fish who calls sailors to their doom in the Deep Blue. She would also love to meet him. Does he sign? If so, he would be welcomed in their homesea with open arms.
Your poetry has had me enchanted by him, and I am just mourning on his behalf. He is so beautiful, I can see him in my head and I'm in love. I want to draw him 😭
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