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[cool-thymus]

Rin Week 2023

A drabble and an illustration for the most special girl in Narutoverse.

Day 4 | November 15 Secret

Team Minato; Rin has a secret; Kakashi has a secret; Obito ...is asleep; they are all tipsy; this is supposed to be funny

The shinobi world is a cruel place. If you’re raised a ninja, it often feels like running naked through a nettle field. No matter how fast you are trying to get out, it always stings. Constant pain and misery touch your bare skin, and you slowly get used to it. The shinobi world is greedy too. It takes the people you love and hardly ever returns them. And you are expected to go with it, no questions asked. But as one Red-Hot Habanero shrewdly observed, this world had room for smiles, laughter, and occasional celebration, especially when your loved ones were given back to you. 

A team of three young shinobi of the Hidden Leaf was that lucky. But miracles didn’t just happen for them. They had to claw back their teammate from the darkness and then fight day and night for his life. Cry for each other and hold shaking hands; lose sleep and hug tight.   

Since then, the hardest and the happiest day of their lives turned into an anniversary that was celebrated as the team’s birthday, their own little festival. Kushina and Kakashi would prepare a feast making sure everybody’s favorite dish was on the menu. Rin was in charge of decorations and flowers. Every year she would make a special arrangement for the table and provide small bouquets for her teammates. The location for the celebration was Minato and Obito’s duty. They liked scouting out picturesque spots, preferably near water. The hike was their small ritual: they traveled alone, mostly in silence. Obito felt special because he was on the same task as the captain, but for Minato it was a pilgrimage to the day when he carried the dying boy back to the village cursing himself for every wrong choice he’d made. Now he let Obito lead the way watching how the 16-year-old jumped left and right like a puppy chasing a butterfly. He followed and silently renewed his vow to always have his back, always protect the kid he’d almost lost. 

This year they picked a cabin near a small waterfall. The view was worthy of the occasion, and there were enough rooms to stay overnight. The Namikaze-Uzumaki family had grown a new member who enjoyed the attention and liked making everything about himself. He was three. The baby added the ingenuousness that the team gradually grew out of, and he kept his parents occupied, so that Rin, Obito and Kakashi could have more privacy and party the way they wanted.

However, none of them was a party animal.  

***

“Isn’t he adorable?” Rin said quietly tugging at Kakashi’s sleeve. Obito had rested his head in her lap; his eyes were closed, lips parted; soft snuffling noises made it clear - he was fast asleep. 

“The word is ‘pathetic’, Rin. We didn’t even drink that much, and he’s already out like a light.” Kakashi took another sip of his beverage (being on good terms with the Sannin had its benefits: their favorite genius was allowed a drink of his choice now and then, in moderation though), “Or… maybe he just really wanted to get to his comfort place as soon as possible.”

“You mean he’s dreaming of something comforting?”

“I mean your lap.” 

Rin paused for a moment, startled with the misplaced sarcasm, but then smirked at him and continued stroking Obito’s hair. “Are you trying to be funny or irritating?” 

Kakashi’s snarky comments never worked on her; at least they never escalated into a full-scale fight like they did with Obito. Rin was just… smarter. If Kakashi all of a sudden started showing his sassy attitude, it only meant he was uncomfortable. She reached for his face and playfully squeezed his cheek like she would with their captain’s little son. 

“Rin, are you trying to be … cheeky right now?” He barely finished the sentence as they both started giggling. Making terrible jokes was their thing, especially when they were tipsy like that. 

“What is it, Kakashi? How did he piss you off this time?” 

“He didn’t. Everything’s fine.” 

“Come on now. You know you’ll feel better if you tell me. Is it because he kept teasing you about that girl?”

Kakashi pulled his mask down and drank some more, then he looked at Rin, the mask still under his chin. 

“Bingo,” said the girl with a half-smile. “You know he’s not trying to be insensitive, right? It’s just that you never talk to him about this kind of stuff, and he probably needs it. So he’s simply trying to start a conversation with you.”

Kakashi turned his gaze to the floor in front of him pulling his yukata over his knees.

“I know we’ve been over this, but… why don’t you just tell him?”

“Let’s not do this tonight, Rin.”

“You told me…”

“It was different with you! You had a thing for me, and it wouldn’t be fa…” 

Rin quickly pressed her finger to his lips, “Yeah-yeah! Let’s pretend you told me because I’m your best friend and not recollect the moment I made a fool of myself?”

Kakashi took her hand in his, bowed his head and pressed his forehead to the back of Rin’s hand, “I’m still sorry about that by the way.”

“Hatake Kakashi, stop being so suave, or my inappropriate feelings will return again!” 

They both started laughing causing Obito to stir in his sleep. Rin pulled Kakashi closer, and he moved to sit next to her, their attention returning to the sleeping teammate. 

“Although… he was kind of an ass to you today,” whispered Rin. “Do you want to teach him a lesson?”

“I might wanna teach him a lesson, yes. About the importance of respecting other people’s boundaries,” Kakashi whispered jokingly, but then, to his surprise, Rin carefully lifted Obito’s head, laid it onto Kakashi’s lap, and sprang to her feet.

“What are you doing?” 

“Be right back. Don’t wake him up!” she shot back and dashed to the hall.

Obito’s head felt heavy. Without Rin in the room, it was too quiet, and Kakashi could hear his friend’s breathing: in and out, the chest rising and falling, slowly, evenly; no gasping for air. “Good job, buddy. You’re doing a great job, just keep breathing, okay? Just like that.” His own words from a long time ago echoed in his mind, but he suppressed them right away reminding himself that there was no need to monitor Obito’s breathing anymore. He was okay now.     

Rin suddenly reappeared next to Kakashi, eyes sparkling with mischief. Noticing that his hands were still hovering near Obito’s temples, she gently nudged Kakashi out of his trance. When his eyes gained focus again she proudly demonstrated a black marker that she'd fished out from Kushina’s bag with the baby stuff.

“Are you actually going to draw on his face? Like a five-year-old?”

“Yep! Can you steady his head a bit, Mr. Boring?”

Kakashi’s hands reluctantly landed on Obito’s cheeks tilting his head in Rin’s direction. She proceeded to draw a funny-looking beard and a mustache. 

“You know, he can’t grow a beard anyway, so this is offensive as hell. Keep drawing.”

Rin raised her eyes at Kakashi covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. Then she started to draw a pair of very thick eyebrows. 

“Oh, that’s just cruel! He’ll never forgive you for making him look like Gai.”

“Me? Who said I was responsible for this? It’s totally your doing,” she said in a mockingly indignant tone as she traced out ‘Kakashi did this’ on Obito’s cheeks. 

“Hey! He’d happily let you off the hook, but me?! I’ll never see the end of it!”

Rin ignored Kakashi’s words, admiring her work. 

“Isn’t he adorable?” Having said that, she was carefully watching her friend whose left hand was still resting on Obito’s cheek. 

“Yeah… he is.”

“Kakashi, you can tell him. He’ll be okay with it, I promise.” 

There was a minute of silence between them.

“But you can’t promise me that, Rin. What if he’s simply weirded out by it? Or feels uncomfortable? What if he stops hanging out with me at all?”

“That’s not gonna ha…”

“I know! I know this is probably not gonna happen, but what if it does? What if I'm not a part of his life anymore? You were there, Rin; it was hell without him. I’m just… I’m not ready. I’m not ready to lose him… again.”

“Kakashi, you idiot! Did you really think I would…” Obito opened his eyes and tried to prop himself up with his elbows, but in an instant a very precise hand hit several chakra points on his neck knocking him unconscious. 

“Kakashi! You can’t do that! Why did you hit him?!” 

“It was a reflex, okay!” They both leaned over to check on Obito.

“Has he been awake the entire time?” Kakashi was getting worried.

“How should I know? Seriously, Kakashi, I just wanted you to be honest with your best friend, and you go and do this?!”

“I said I didn’t mean to knock him out, okay?! And by the way, maybe you should stop berating me? It’s not like you’re completely honest with him either. Did you have enough courage to tell him about your secret nurse-boyfriend?”

“Rin?! You have a bo…” Obito regained consciousness but only for a few seconds before another hand made him pass out again.

“RIN!”

“I’m sorry!” 

@rinweek2023

[blackjackkent]

Prompt fill for @astreamofstars from this ask for this prompt meme. Karlach - "It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me."

-----

“Oy, who’s the glowy bitch by the door, then?”

Karlach knows better than to bother looking up when the fresh-meat greataxe grunt starts talking, down the barracks a ways. This shit isn’t new. They always like to talk, the new arrivals to Zariel's army. And as soon as they see Karlach, no other topic will do.

Fair play enough, after all; she does kinda stick out. There's nobody else like her in the platoon, or in the whole army. In the eight years she’s been here, nobody else has ever gotten the tin can stuck into them and survived. She’s special, as Zariel likes to assure her, though special has never bought her anything but more blood and death - and the attention of every ignot who want to pick a fight.

Today’s mouthy prick is a draegloth, which explains why he’s talking a big game. A dogskull’s almost as unique as Karlach is around here; makes sense he’d pick out a target fast before anyone can pick him out for an asskicking.

“Oh, that? That's Cliffgate,” says another voice. This one Karlach recognizes - Namtar, a cambion, one of the platoon sergeants. He and Karlach have butted heads before, because Namtar is a rotten pissant. “Zariel's little kiss-ass. No heart, just an infernal engine in her chest.”

"No way," the draegloth says. "That's the Demonsbane? A ruttin' tief? Not even hellsborn?" He laughs sharply. "Lettin' in all sorts these days, uh?"

Karlach ignores the mocking words, focusing on choking down the tasteless morsels that pass for rations around here. The bunk across from her creaks unhappily as weight hits it.

“They're talkin’ about you, Dart,” Flo says with a nasty grin, settling onto the bed and lounging back against the wall. “Gonna sit here and take it?”

Karlach sighs. She picked up the nickname around her second week in the Hells, and it's never once been meant with kindness. Even Flo says it with a nasty edge, and Flo is the closest thing she has to a friend.

Good reminder, I guess, that no one here really gives a fuck about me, no matter how much I might like to pretend. Even after eight years, she can sometimes, if she squints, convince herself that there's camaraderie here, like there was in Gortash's old crew before he sold her out. But it's vain hope, a desperate attempt to pretend this place isn't rotting her fro the inside out; the illusion never lasts long and always just leaves her feeling lonelier.

"If it's not them, it'll be somebody else," she says noncommittally. "Lemme eat my dinner in peace."

"Nawww..." Flo says, comfortably dismissive. "C'mon, Dart, give us a show. Been too long since we had a proper scrap in here besides the piece in your chest."

Karlach laughs softly in spite of herself. It's a pretty weak pun, but the jokes in Avernus are as bad as the food. "I'm wore out, Flo," she says, shaking her head. "Leave off."

She looks up to find Flo's smile has turned a shade more brittle. "C'mon, now, Dart," she says, and there's a warning note in it now. "Y'know I can't be seen bein' friends with a softy. Give us a show, I said."

The message is loud and clear, as it always is. My friendship is conditional. And you'll do as I say, 'cos you *don't* want to be my enemy. Now dance.

Karlach huffs out a weary, flame-hot breath and tosses aside the last bit of her ration pack uneaten. With a groan, she pushes herself to her feet and strides down the barracks corridor towards Namtar and the draegloth.

"Hey, there she is." Namtar looks up with a lazy grin as she approaches. He's flopped on his bunk with his boots off, his wings furled neatly under him and feet up on a stack of equipment piled at the foot of the bed. "How's tricks, Dart?" Before Karlach can respond, he shoots a conspiratorial glance at the young dogskull. "Y'know why we call her Dart, Markos?"

The draegloth -- Markos -- looks puzzled. "Why?" he asks.

"Dumb-Ass Rusty Toaster." Namtar brays with laughter so hard it shakes the bed a little. "Fits, too, cos all she's good for is throwing at things t' poke holes in them."

Markos snickers loudly. Several more of the platoon have picked up on the conversation; smelling blood in the water, they've started to circle up, leaned casually against the walls or peering over the edge of their bunks. Some of them are grinning, enjoying watching the Demonsbane get a dunking. Others - the smart ones - are eyeing Karlach warily. She hasn't said anything yet, but her eyes are smoldering. In spite of herself, the rage is building. 

She doesn't want to fight them. She never has. She's always been loyal, and even in this bitch of a place, even under Zariel's thumb, she'd have fought hard for anyone here who wanted to fight for her in return. But that's never made the slightest bit of difference, because everyone here is a fucking tosser.

Hells. Maybe, when you come right down to it, so am I.

And that, really, is what enrages her, far more than these empty little insults.

"Y'know," she says slowly, looking the draegloth up and down. "I expect this sort of crap from the fresh meat. A mouth spewing shit 'cos you haven't learned to shut the fuck up yet. But you--" She turns her gaze slowly and deliberately to the sergeant. "Eight years it's been, Namtar, and neither of us dead yet, so you'd think you'd have figured out not to mess with me." She lets a slow, feral grin curl across her lips, and there's a ripple of anticipatory mumbling from the gathering crowd around them. "My fault, I guess, that you've forgotten to be scared of me. But I can fix that."

She moves suddenly, with no windup, her fists and feet all shifting at once. Her left fist crashes into Markos's jaw, knocking him back into the steel frame of the bed behind him; his skull ricochets off it with a metallic whingggg as his skull ricochets off the metal. With her left foot, she kicks behind his knee while he's unbalanced and fully flips him sideways. As he bounces back from the bedframe, he goes careening onto his front, his nose crunching into the stone floor.

Meanwhile, her other hand grabs Namtar by the collar and drags him out of his bunk. He has almost two inches on her, but she lifts him with ease one-armed, the engine roaring in her chest and sending energy coursing through her bicep. Spinning out of the kick at Markos, she slams Namtar into the wall, then releases her grip for a split second, only to refix it tightly around his throat before he can fall.

All of the cambion's bravado has vanished. His eyes are wide and brilliant white in the dark red of his face and he squirms ineffectually against Karlach's implacable grip. His wings, crunched between his back and the wall, struggle feebly. "Oy! Let me go!" he bleats, gripping her hand with both of his and trying to pull it away.

She glares at him. "Maybe. If you want to grovel a bit. Otherwise I'll finally just kill you. Maybe everyone else would finally get it through their thick skulls that you don't mess with me."

He sneers in an attempt at disdain, though it's considerably weakened by the fact that he's now struggling to breathe. "You wouldn't dare."

She laughs humorlessly and leans forward until her nose is nearly touching his, so he can feel the heat radiating off her body and see nothing but the exhausted fury in her eyes. "That really a chance you wanna take, sergeant?"

He hesitates, balanced between his anger and his fear. But something he sees in her eyes must convince him, because the fear wins. "Sorry," he mutters.

"What was that?" she asks coolly. "Didn't hear you."

"I'm sorry," he snaps. "Now let me go."

She could drag it out further, but the whole situation feels sticky as hot tar on her skin, burning down into her bones. Gods, I hate this. I hate all of it. I don’t want to be this thing they’ve made me, but I don’t know how to stop.

She releases his throat with a jerk, letting him slide down the wall to the floor, where he sits clutching at his neck and wheezing. Markos, nearby, is out cold where he hit the floor.

"Good," she mutters. "Just... stay there and shut the fuck up." She doesn't wait to hear what the other gathered soldiers might have to say, but turns and stalks away back down the row of beds towards the other end of the barracks. 

Flo gives her a slow clap as she returns to her bunk, grinning unpleasantly from ear to ear. "Nice one. Damn good show, Dart, just as I asked."

"Shut up," Karlach answers, tossing herself facedown onto her mattress. The engine is still running hot, surging pain through her chest and her head and her arms with the slow letdown of adrenaline; she can smell it searing a scorched mark into the bedsheets. "You too - just... just shut up and leave me alone.”

[b0amagination]

Wikihow are you... flirting with me??? Why are they writing such good whump fic in an article about how to escape a car trunk,,,

anyway here's your daily reminder to write more kidnappings please and thank you !!!!!

[inafieldofdaisies]

18. bear hugs

For Mary May and Cal (with Zorro maybe?) <3

Prompt from this post.

Mary May followed what could barely be called a path snaking through the woods, her eyes periodically darting down to the crudely drawn map Calahan had left for her. "I will be waiting, Angel." was scribbled next to an X marking what he deemed his favorite fishing spot that as far she could tell wasn't any of the ones the locals frequented. Multiple times she questioned her decision to come at all, trying to convince herself to turn around and trek back to her truck before she would inevitably lose daylight and end up completely lost. "This is dumb. Foolish as hell.", she mumbled out loud, her frown deepening as she navigated the rough terrain, "And Casey from all people is manning the bar. It would be a miracle if it's still standing when I return." Yet no matter how many times she reminded herself John's men could choose that exact moment to make another move, a part of her that always took over against her better judgment anytime Hartley was around, pulled her forward like a niddle of a compass, like she could feel him near and was drawn to find him at any cost. Compass- another thing she wished she had taken with her along with a goddamned flashlight. For a second she contemplated calling out for Calahan, sensing she must be getting closer to the place he was supposed to be waiting for her at, then she decided against the idea, worrying about drawing the attention of any Peggies that knowing her luck, could be lurking in the woods. "Should have brought my shotgun. Fucking stupid… leaving it in my truck, because 'who the fuck brings a shotgun to a date'?", her hands clutched the map tighter when she heard twings snapping somewhere to her left that made her pick up her pace.

Just when she was about to spin on her heel and completely give up on Calahan's reckless plan, the path finally opened up to quite the breathtaking view, especially with the sun beginning to set: a shoreline of a small lake that John by some miracle still hadn't stained with a Baptism spot. "Rookie?", she hollered as she shoved the map into her back pocket and scanned the area for any signs of life, "Cal? You better not have sent me on a wild goose chase, I swear I won't let you leave it down." Then a sight made her release the breath she was holding as she got confirmation she was where she was supposed to be: a raccoon emerged from one of the overgrown shrubs ahead of her, its small head twisting to look her way. "Zorro, bud.", Mary May rushed to cover the distance that separated them in case Zorro decided to play hide and seek like his human father, "Where did your daddy go? Don't tell me he got into trouble…" The second the words left her mouth, arms wrapped around her from behind and enveloped her in a bear hug, a chuckle breezing over her skin before Calahan smushed his cheek to hers, "I'm right here, Angel. Was starting to think you won't show and it would be just me and Zorro again." There was a note of vulnerability to his playful tone, causing her heart to skip a breath as she covered his hands with her own, and their fingers intertwined. Zorro followed suit, paws encircling her leg, "Your little map and note certainly piqued my interest." Calahan swayed lightly, and she tried to stop herself from melting into his body when his lips brushed over her cheek, "I knew mystery would do the trick. How do you like my favorite place in the Valley?" "It's… peaceful. Almost like there's no war going.", Mary May muttered slowly, wishing she hadn't asked the next question the moment it escaped her, "You bring other girls here?" He let out a deep laugh, making the ugly feeling inside her fester further. Jealousy. "Never mind, Rookie.", her attempt to shrug off his hug was unsuccessful as he held on then as swiftly as he had embraced he twirled her around to face him, hands coming to rest on the small of her back.

"Calahan." "What?" He smirked, "That's my name, Mary May. You back to actin' all disinterested? Calling me Rookie?" Mary May shifted her eyes to a spot on his shoulder, annoyance swooping in at how easy he was able to read her and how satisfied he seemed with that ability. "Jealousy, Angel, not something I ever imagined from you. But damn, if it's not addicting… You know why? It means you care for me." His hand cupped her face and forced her to raise her gaze back to his before he continued, "Just my favorite people, Mary May. You, my son, my boys, Sabrina. Made the mistake to drag Pratt here once, kept complaining he couldn't catch any fish, the fucker." A couple of beats passed where she found herself unable to stop herself from returning his smile, "Damn it, Cal." "What?", Calahan asked in amusement. "I wish I hadn't… waited so long." His thumb storked her cheek as he nodded knowingly, "Me too. Come now, the view's about to get even better when the sun dips completely." He grasped her hand, leading her down the shore until they stopped at a blanket, one he had no doubt taken from her closet, on top of it was an old picnic basket, another thing of hers. She lowered herself to sit next to him as he started to pull out food and laying it down on the free space, "Let me guess, you rummaged through my fridge, too?" "Nope. Well, kind of... Drinks are on you, yes... but", he offered her a cheeky grin, "Dinner's on John tonight." Mary May raised an eyebrow, making him add, "I looted one of his trucks on the way. Don't worry, I left him a little thank you note." "Of course you did." She leaned her head on his shoulder as they watched the sunset with Zorro nestling comfortably at her feet. For the first time in a long while, she realized she felt… happy and as much as she hated to admit it - it scared her, because in her experience the rare feeling never lasted. John Seed always managed to slip in at those moments and destroy any source of happiness. Her calm life before the Project. Her family. Her father's business. The fragile peace that held on for surprisingly too long in his region. Yes, she was afraid. Afraid he'd take Calahan away from her, too.

[helaintoloki]

hello, I would like to make a request, a story based on the last episode of yours, Five talking to another Five in the final conversation and they talk about his wife and Canon Five doesn't have one, thanks if you want

a/n: i absolutely loved writing this ty for sending this in ! <3

warnings: language, slight angst, spoilers

summary: Five discovers his missing piece

When Five stumbled into Max’s and came across an entire diner full of alternate versions of himself, about a million different questions raced through his mind. However, the most pressing issue he found himself wanting to address was the context behind the lovingly placed portrait of a woman on the wall.

“Who’s the girl?” He asks his counterpart, his eyes remaining glued to the painting. The woman’s smile was gentle, her eyes kind, and her face the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He almost felt drawn to it in a way, as if there was some type of magnetic pull gravitating his focus to her and only her. It was like seeing a ghost or a familiar face from a dream that you’re not quite able to place.

“Don’t you recognize her?” The other Five retorts perplexed, confusion clearly etched on his features. “That’s y/n.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar,” the Boy confesses with an apologetic sigh as he finally pulls his attention away from the painting and sets it back to the Five in front of him.

“No wonder you’re such a mess,” server Five notes with a diverted smile as he tops off their coffee. Calling over his shoulder, he announces to all Fives, “The poor bastard doesn’t have a y/n.”

Murmurs of surprise and astonished laughter fill the cafe at the news, prompting Five’s face to heat in embarrassment at being the butt of a joke he has no grasp of. What do these Fives know that he doesn’t?

“Could you please be so kind as to fill me in on who this y/n is,” he requests agitatedly through gritted teeth. Reaching into his pocket, his counterpart pulls out a weathered photograph and slides it across the table for Five to see.

“Y/n is the missing piece that completes every Five. We all meet her in different ways at different points of our lives, but every time she manages to anchor us back down to earth. Y/n is the glue that holds us together when everything goes to shit. She believes in us, sees the humanity in us despite the horrors we’ve seen and the atrocities we’ve committed. She gives us unconditional love even when we think we don’t need it, when we think it couldn’t possibly exist.”

As Fives look down at the photo before him, he sees himself- or rather, another version of himself- enveloping y/n in his arms. They stand in front of a beautiful home with a picket white fence and a garden full of flowers smiling with pure bliss. It’s clear that the woman loved this version of him by the adoring look in her eyes, and it’s even clearer that she meant everything to the Five sitting across from him.

“She means something different to each of us, but I was one of the Five’s lucky enough to make her my wife,” his companion notes with an evocative smile. “That photo was taken on our honeymoon.

“Where is she now?” Five asks somberly after handing back the photograph.

“Dead,” he replies quietly, releasing a mournful sigh as he sinks back into the booth. “Lost her in an accident while I was trying to stop the apocalypse for a third time. That’s when I decided it was time to hang in the towel.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“We had a good run together, I wouldn’t change any of it,” the replica admits with a reminiscent smile. He takes another look at the photo, committing it to memory before handing it back to Five. “I think you need this more than I do. You may not have had the chance to know your y/n, but judging by the look on your face when you spotted the portrait I have a good feeling you would have loved her just the same.”

Gingerly taking the photograph back, Five stops to admire her gentle features and adoring smile before tucking it safely into the pocket of his suit. “Thank you.”

“You know what you have to do to fix the timelines,” the other Five firmly instructs him. “Just promise me you’ll do by right by my wife. She deserves a safe timeline to live in, one where she can grow old and be happy.”

Rising from his seat at the booth, Five takes one last longing look at the portrait on the wall before returning his gaze to the boy in front of him.

“You have my word.”

[lady-phasma]

Fangtober Day 3 - Ejactulation

Rockstar!Lestat x fem!reader

Summary: Rockstar!Lestat picks you out of the crowd at his concert and smut ensues, plot if you squint. It isn’t exactly perfect for the Day 3 prompt, but it still works. 3.7k words.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, graphic sex, unprotected sex/creampie,

a/n: reader is afab but not described, I wrote this to fulfill this request and the amazing and wonderful @aemondsbabe collaborated with me and provided the scenario, ty ilysm! I may pick this up for a future prompt this month, we’ll see.

Lestat couldn’t stop looking at you. There, near the front row, not screaming and crying, but singing along and smiling. That smile… so utterly unselfconscious. He couldn’t resist. His glance returned to you time and time again until he finished the set and strutted off stage.

As you exited the venue, a young woman with a lanyard and shirt bearing STAFF across the back approached you.

“Miss?” She spoke softly, but loud enough for you to hear over the crowd. “Would you follow me?”

“Me?” Like a cliche, you pointed at yourself and looked around you.

“Yes miss, right this way.” She turned and started to walk toward the backstage area. Your heart thundered in your ears and sweat threatened your palms.

What the fuck have I done? you thought, assuming you were in trouble, but you couldn’t think of a thing. As she led you through a door and down a hallway, your mouth went dry. The rooms you passed looked suspiciously like dressing rooms.

The woman stopped at a door near the end of the hall and tapped her knuckles lightly against it.

“Monsieur de Lioncourt?” she paused, waiting for a reply.

“Entré.” How one word could sound so melodious, you weren’t sure, but that thought was fleeting as the door opened and the woman waved you inside.

Lestat sat on a sofa against the wall. The only light in the room was a floor lamp in the corner. A dim respite from the lights of the stage. But his eyes caught all of the low light in the room and shimmered a nearly translucent blue.

“Ah, I see they found you. Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair opposite him. His movements were fluid and graceful, slower than his frenetic on-stage energy.

“Thank you,” you managed as you sat. You tried to get ahold of yourself when he asked your name and you replied with only a slight quaver in your voice.

“I would very much like for you to accompany me to my hôtel this evening. Would you be amenable to that, mademoiselle?” His accent was delightful and didn’t appear to be an affectation. Perhaps that part of his persona was genuine.

“I would be honored,” you never spoke so formally, but something about him brought it out in you. You smoothed your hands over your pants nervously, but you held his gaze.

“Bien.” The word was short and clipped and he stood up more abruptly than you had expected. You tried to do the same but your head swam, not just from the quick rise from your seat. Is this happening? I could pinch myself. Another cliche flew through your mind.

He flashed you a smile and beckoned you to follow him out of the room. You were hardly aware you were doing it at all and then you were outside the backstage exit amidst a crowd of fans. Lestat slid so effortlessly into the limo, one moment he was on the pavement with you, the next only an outstretched hand appeared from the open door. You took a deep breath and slipped your hand into his. Before you could exhale the din of the fans was gone and the door shut behind you. He sat opposite you, his back to the driver and absently gazed around him, seeming to be disinterested in this arrangement.

“So…” his voice was thick, oily, his tone slightly aloof. “You enjoyed the show.”

You swallowed and managed a nod. His eyes flicked up to yours, his dark, smudged makeup making the blue, which was somehow bright in the dim backseat. He leaned forward resting his forearms on his crossed legs.

“You know every word,” he whispered, causing you to lean forward slightly. “Do you sing along as you drive to work, go to the gym, or… in the shower?” Lestat’s smile was unsettling and you felt your entire body go hot. You instinctively crossed your legs. “Humans do so enjoy singing in the shower.”

“I… I, um,” you had never stuttered in your life. Get a grip! you thought. Lestat chuckled softly and you looked at him quickly then away.

“I listen to your music while I do a lot of things. The words just stick. I guess I sing along sometimes too.” You looked back up at him as he reclined back against the seat.

As if the universe saw fit to release you from your embarrassment, the limo slowed and stopped. When the door opened Lestat gestured for you to exit first. The hotel was sleek and modern at first glance. The building had a facelift at some point in the recent past, but the lobby was sumptuous and elegant.

You felt out of place and then froze mid-step when you remembered why you were here and who you were with. Lestat strode past you without stopping and you sped up to catch back up with him at the elevators. The doors slid open and you stepped in after him. A meticulously manicured finger pressed the penthouse button and he then did the most mundane thing possible: he tapped his room key against the panel. It seemed like a lot of work for him to keep up this vampire persona, especially when he was doing everyday things for himself.

You took a moment to look him up and down for the first time since the concert. He was lithe but not slim, his hips jutted seductively just at the waistband of his pants, which you could see because of the slightly too-short-to-be-practical shirt he was wearing. He was disheveled from the concert, possibly even sexier like this and this close. He glanced at you as the elevator neared his floor. He pushed off the wall of the elevator where he had been leaning and took a step toward you. You thought he might speak, but he didn’t. He turned and faced the elevator doors when they opened.

“Siri, play Alexis Ffrench,” Lestat commanded as you entered the penthouse suite. Delicate and entrancing piano music flowed from the speakers. He walked into the living room and sat on the couch. You followed, tentatively beginning to sit in an arm chair across from him.

“No, chère, here,” he gestured next to him. You accepted his offer and sat down. “Now, where were we?” He mused. He looked at you inscrutably now. You glanced around the room, taking in the opulence. There were bottles of water on the coffee table.

“Um, may I?” you asked as you reached for one.

“Of course,” he replied. “So…” he began as you opened the bottle and took a sip. “Are you suitably impressed?” His smile was sly, underlining his jest. He stretched an arm across the back of the couch and crossed his legs. He was so casual, at ease, the total opposite of your own posture.

“I honestly don’t know that I’ve ever been in a hotel room like this before.” You looked around again, then back to him. “Would you like one?” you asked holding up the bottle.

“Moi? Non, merci, I haven’t had a sip of water in a century.”

You furrowed your brow, put the lid back on the water bottle, and sat it on a coaster on the coffee table. You tried to get comfortable on the sofa but it was hard to look directly at him while sitting so close. You turned and sat on one of your legs, your foot behind your knee.

“Is that so?” you raised an eyebrow at him, taking the bait. “So you keep the act up as long as anyone is around?” You waved your hand in his general direction when you said ‘act,’ indicating his entire person.

“The act? Hmmm,” he smiled softly and examined the back of one hand and his nails. “Do you not find it appealing?” He dropped his hand to his lap and leaned slightly closer to you.

“Oh it definitely works for you.” You felt your face go hot and almost reached for the bottle of water, but Lestat moved closer to you on the sofa. It was impossible that he moved that fast, you swore you must just not have been paying attention.

“Ha! Oui, it has ‘worked’ for me for quite some time,” he laughed and his once-blue eyes looked almost pale lavender. You blinked at him. Maybe it’s a contact high from the concert, you told yourself.

“No,” Lestat reached his hand out and touched your jaw, holding your gaze with the lightest pressure of his fingertips. “You are not intoxicated by anything. You just refuse to see. May I show you?”

You nodded and swallowed. You felt entranced. This was more than physical attraction, he was magnetic. Before you had time to truly register what he had said and what he was doing, Lestat leaned toward you and kissed you softly. His fingers slid up your jaw to cradle your face in his hand. He lingered for just a moment before murmuring something that sounded like belle and then sat up straight again. His hand moved to your neck, his thumb stroking just below your ear. You watched with a mix of horror and arousal as fangs, actual fangs, appeared in his mouth.

“How…” you began, but the sound barely came out and you couldn’t have finished anyway before he was kissing you again. His lips were cool and hard against yours. He guided you closer to him, seeming to move you himself. Your knee pressed against his now, the inches that were between you completely gone. You felt yourself lean into his kiss, reaching out to rest your hand on his leg, as if to steady yourself. You felt momentarily dizzy and pulled back to catch your breath. Lestat began to cover your neck in kisses and you gasped.

“I…” you took a deep breath. “I don’t understand.” Your words came out almost as a sigh. You closed your eyes. You instinctively moved your hand to his arm as he pressed against you.

“’S’okay,” Lestat murmured against your neck. “Relax. Enjoy.” You groaned quietly as his lips and fangs grazed the skin just above the collar of your shirt. You arched your back when he moved a hand behind you, supporting you.

You began to give into the sensations, to suspend your disbelief, let him continue to play the vampire. Who cares? He’s hot and talented and crazy usually comes with the territory.

“We shall see about that,” Lestat said. He replied as if he has heard your thoughts. Not possible, but again, who cares?

“Fine, whatever, just don’t stop,” you moaned and ran your hand up his arm, over his shoulder to the nape of his neck.

Suddenly, startlingly, Lestat stood, guided you with him, and scooped you up, one hand behind your knees. Okay, he’s strong, you thought, trying nearly-futilely to make sense of him, but not caring all that much. You were in the bedroom before the thoughts were finished running through your mind.

Lestat sat you on the bed and looked at you for a moment, then he sat facing you. He slid your shirt up, his hands on your sides and you raised your arms to allow him to slip it over your head and off your arms. You were moving fast with him in a way that was exhilarating. You still felt half in a dream, but you wanted this, may have even allowed yourself to daydream about this before, a fantasy for millions of fans.

Immediately his mouth went to your breasts, kissing and nipping on them through the fabric of your bra. His hands moved quickly and effortlessly to your bra closure and unclasped it in one movement. You let him slide it off your shoulders. He exhaled softly before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. He held you still with his hands on your back and licked your nipple before grazing his teeth against it. He moved to the other and sucked it between his lips quickly and you gasped. The sensation made you clutch at him, trying to steady yourself. You ran a hand up the back of his neck into his silky hair. The pressure increased and you dug your fingers into his skin.

“Oh god, yes,” you moaned and let your head fall back as he sucked. Slowly he slid his a hand to your other breast and squeezed, not quite roughly. Every movement he made was elegant and deliberate. Before you realized it was happening, Lestat was laying you back on the bed. He slid one thigh between yours and pressed against you slightly. His strength made the movement effortless, his mouth never leaving your breast. You arched your back against him, feeling the wetness between your legs as you tried to grind against his leg. He pulled his other hand from behind your back and cupped both breasts in his hands. Moving from one to the other, he drug his lips along your chest. You felt the gentle scratch of his fangs on your skin.

“You taste fantastic ma petite,” he whispered against you. He ran his thumb over the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You pressed your chest up toward him. You wanted to touch him all over, but settled for reaching down to tug his shirt up, trying to get to bare skin. You grazed your fingertips up his sides and around to his back. He moaned around your nipple and goosebumps spread over your body. You dug your fingers into his back as he reached between you to unfasten your pants. Your heart raced and you squeezed your eyes shut at the overwhelming sensations. Suddenly Lestat pulled back and sat up to kneeling, both hands in the waistband of your pants. With no effort at all, he peeled them off and tossed them on the floor, taking your panties with them. A small chuckled had escaped your lips as you had lifted your legs to ‘assist.’ You covered your mouth with the back of one hand.

“Non, chère,” he murmured and moved your hand from your face. You opened your eyes at his touch. He kissed your lips gently then slid off the bed and stood next to it. You felt incredibly odd for a split second and then you were absorbed in his movements, nearly forgetting your own nakedness. He pulled his shirt off, shaking his blonde hair lightly as the shirt left his head. Far too slowly, he hooked his thumbs in his pants and began to slide them down. You involuntarily licked your lips as he revealed his hip bones. You shifted your hips on the bed, rubbing your thighs together slightly. His eyes darted from yours to your legs then back to meet your gaze. His pants hit the floor and he stepped out of them as he moved to get back on the bed. He slid a hand between your knees and opened your legs again, moving between them.

Your eyes were transfixed on his perfect cock. You noticed the V-shape of his torso, of course, but it only forced your eyes downward to the tidy curls of dusty-blonde hair and absolutely beautiful cock. You tore your eyes away and looked up at his face. He was smirking, completely vain and self-satisfied. You couldn’t care less. You spread your legs a fraction wider and smiled back at him. He looked down the full length of your body then leaned forward kissing your chest and stomach again.

Lestat’s hands roved everywhere. You lost track as he moved against you. You ran one hand into his hair, let the other touch every available inch of his skin. Gently you tugged him upward, encouraging him. His lips found yours and kissed you deeply, fangs grazing your lips. You moaned as his tongue slid between your lips. You tangled your fingers deeper into his hair. He propped himself up on one hand by your head and reached between you with the other. Still kissing you, he slid his cock between your wet folds. Something like a groan came from his lips, vibrating into your mouth. The head of his cock nudged your clit and you lifted your hips.

“So needy,” he muttered as he broke the kiss. You felt him move further back and press against your entrance. His hand slid up your side and grazed your breast as he slipped his hand under your shoulder. You looked at him, eyes almost glazed over with desire, and bit your bottom lip. His lips parted slightly and he exhaled as he began to slide into you. He took his time, savoring your wet heat.

“Mon dieu,” Lestat moaned softly. You moved the hand not in his hair to his lower back and urged him on. You tilted your head back and sighed as he pressed into you completely. Lestat stayed there, filling you up, for a brief moment, then he began to move in short strokes. He kissed down your jaw and neck as he moved. You gripped his hip and pulled him toward you. He lengthened his strokes and made the most delicious sounds next to your ear. You fingers neared the top of his buttocks as you lifted a leg to his hip.

“Yes, fuck, you feel amazing,” you rambled. Lestat slid his hand down your body and behind your thigh, guiding your leg higher. He tilted his hips to find a new angle and his cock rubbed against that spot deep inside you. The sounds you made were unintelligible. You clenched around him, perhaps trying to keep him in place, but he increased his pace, returning to that spot over and over again. You may have groaned his name, you weren’t sure, you couldn’t control the sounds that tumbled from you.

Still propped on one hand, Lestat slid his hand from behind your thigh, across your hip, and down to your belly. Your hips twitched against his. His fingers traveled lightly between you. He found his goal expertly and slid slowly over your clit. The pressure was too gentle and you whined, in truth, an embarrassing sort of sound, but he seemed to enjoy it. He drew the sound from your lips again with a couple more light strokes before increasing his pressure.

Lestat sped up the movement of his hips and didn’t quite match the rhythm with his fingers. He lifted his head and watched you through the curtain of his hair. Your fingernails grazed his scalp and he groaned. You rocked your hips as he made small circles on your clit, meeting his thrusts, chasing the friction and the overwhelming pleasure.

“Just like that that, chère,” Lestat whispered as he watched your face. You couldn’t continue to look into those blue-lilac eyes and squeezed yours shut as you felt your orgasm begin at his fingers. You wanted it desperately, but you also never wanted this to end. Your hand moved to his ass and on his next stroke pulled him as deep as you could. He moaned and dropped his forehead to yours. He never ceased his movements against your clit and your body shook as your climax started to wash over you. You weren’t sure you had ever felt so good. You would think about it later, but the twitch of your hips and ab muscles every time his fingers passed around your clit was a new experience. You thought you heard him chuckle.

His hips moved quicker now, not slowed by your clenched muscles around his cock. You tightened harder around him. Your body curled as you came and you threw your arm around his neck. Your forehead nearly rested on his shoulder, putting your ear next to his lips. He muttered delicate French words you didn’t understand. He finally moved his hand from you and slid it around your waist, holding you close to him. You cried out softly as he pounded into you and were so spent, so delirious from the intensity of your orgasm that you didn’t hear his question the first time.

“Where do you want it?” he repeated. You groaned. How could you answer that? You already knew what you were doing was risky, but your birth control flashed in your mind and you whispered your answer in his ear.

“Come inside me.” Those three little words were enough. Lestat’s hips never stuttered or faltered. He fucked you smoothly through his orgasm, moaning your name. You thought you might have been able to come again, but then you felt his hips stop and his release spill into you. He cursed and stroked into you a few more times before gently laying you back on the bed. He looked down at you, tilted his head, and tucked one side of his hair behind his ear. Then he stroked your cheek and moved back to kneeling. His movement inside you made you groan with the renewed stimulation, but he only smiled at you as he pulled out. It was a fond smile, not exactly taking pleasure in your soft whine as he left you empty, but not not enjoying it.

Lestat lay down on the bed next to you. He didn’t pull you close to him, but he put his arm out for you to lift your head. You lay back, head resting on his arm, your sides touching down the length of your bodies.

“Holy fuck,” you muttered as you caught your breath. “I mean it. Holy fuck.” Lestat chuckled at your exclamation.

“Perhaps that was not enough proof, but I think you might be more open-minded now, no?” His fingers trailed over your upper arm and shoulders, the fingernails grazing your skin.

“Honestly, does it matter?” You looked at him, but you weren’t sure you still had doubts. Your rational mind told you vampires couldn’t exist and he was insane or, at the very least, eccentric. Probably the only thing that would convince me would be him drinking my blood and I might be up for that. He’s a weirdo but he’s fucking gorgeous.

“That could be arranged.” Lestat’s soft laugh caused goosebumps to race over your skin. Your eyes were wide as he turned to lay on his side, propping himself on his elbow to look at you.

Fangtober 2024 prompt list • Main masterlist

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hi! Jumping into your ask box to continue the 'afraid of having sex' series. Still with a female reader and the exact same prompt. But this time, with Usopp & Sabo because they are underrated. And also with Ace, Shanks and Mihawk. We need the whole cast with this headcanon! Ty and anon <3

Oh damn, let's go for a round 3 with some soft/dilf/underated boys! I'm so happy to receive a request with Sabo ♡ And sure, a round 4 with more underrated characters would be funny, especially with Killer & Marco. Anyway, for the moment, let's go for Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk :D Thank you for requesting, I hope the outcome will match your expectations!

☆ Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW (generals): MDNI, smut, v!sex, f!reader, more are listed under each character 

WC : 3K

⇢ You can read the part one here and the part two here 

Usopp 

CW : virgin!Usopp, fingering (reader receiving),  oral sex (reader/Usopp receiving), slight pet name (babe), slight dirty talk, protected sex 

(Aw, poor Usopp is probably really stressed too)

Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Due to his lie about his experience, he would feel extremely anxious. He claimed to have had sex many times, but it was a total lie. He's a virgin. When you confess that you're afraid because it's been a while since your last sex, he's relieved. At least you're nervous together, isn't that nice? Nevertheless, he is also ashamed and embarrassed by his deceit. He wants to be honest like you have been with him! But he's so nervous about your reaction.

"Y/N… I lied… I mean… I may exaggerate a bit my experience…" he would babble, avoiding your gaze. "It's possible that… this actually is my first time..." while fidgeting nervously and sweating wildly.

He's confused when you burst into laughter. "It was quite obvious to me. You're a bad liar." 

Poor Usopp is even more flustered. "Still, you have to make it for your lie." 

Even if you're not mad at him, he's still ashamed and jittery. Maybe as much as you, or even more. His lips would gently touch yours, and his shaky hands would roam all over your body. 

Please, guide this poor boy. Tell him how to pleasure you. 

His hands would be a bit butterfingered while circling your clit or fondling your breasts. Luckily, he cares about your needs and has a creative mind, so he would be pretty good at figuring out how your body works. 

Eager boy. He would stare intently at your pussy, astonished by its increasing wetness. He would never be satisfied. The way you squirm, moan and clench around his fingers is mesmerizing. 

"Babe, you're so wet down there. Love how you clench around me. Please do the same for my cock." 

And if you decide to go down on him… damn, Usopp would just turn into a whimpering, whiny mess. Would probably cum because he can't handle how good your mouth feels around his member.

Poor boy would be so embarrassed to cum that fast.

He would make an effort to repay the favor. But finding the right angle with his long nose is quite a challenge. "Ouch, my nose" all the two seconds. 

Again, eager boy. He would remain between your legs throughout the entire day and still crave more. Your pussy tastes and feels so good for his sanity. Please keep moaning his name, it's music to his ears. And if you pull on his hair, burying his head against your folds, he's in heaven. 

He's a conscientious boy, so he would wear a condom, use lube, and make sure you're relaxed enough. 

He would try to be as close to you as possible while slowly burying himself within you. Your walls stretching around his thick girth would be so captivating for him. 

"You're alright? Can I keep going?" 

A lot of shudders, shaky hands on your hips while he slowly starts to thrust into your tightness. "Babe, you feel so good clenching around me…" 

He would absolutely love to watch his cock covered with your wetness sliding in and out of you.

Wouldn't last that long because it's so overwhelming for him. But damn, he's so eager to make you squirm and moan all night (and all the next day...) He's already addicted to your body.

Sabo

CW : Dirty talk, fingering and oral sex (reader receiving), mention of choking, mention of spanking, slight teasing, protected sex, slight praises, slight pet name (sweetie)

Sabo is probably a very kinky boy. Pretty sure he would enjoy wrapping his claws around your neck and choking you. Or to make you wear his hat while you ride him. Or use his gloves to spank you, or... yeah, the list is endless. However, his soul is also kind and compassionate. He's a revolutionary, a big brother, and a protective person who craves freedom and justice. So if you're afraid because it's been a long time or nervous about getting hurt, he would be really nice to you.

"Sure sweetie, we'll take it slow." with a big, reassuring smile. 

Again, revolutionary boy. He would ensure that you are comfortable with each action and constantly verify your consent. "You're alright?" , "Can I touch you there?", "Can I keep going?"

"You're so beautiful" while looking at your naked body, covering it with a lot of sweet kisses along your collarbone, neck, breasts and lower stomach. He would be delighted to stroke your breasts for hours, as they feel so warm and soft in his hands. 

"Can I take them off?" While reaching for your panties.

Upon your nod, he would pull your panties down your legs with his teeth. Just to tease you. He would look at you, leaving a kiss on your inner thighs. He's good  (and a god) when it comes to anticipation. 

"You look so pretty for me. Want me to go down on you?" 

He would gently massage your legs with his thumbs, circling your inner thighs as you nod. The more you shiver and squirm in need, the more he feels satisfied with himself. "Need me so bad, Y/N?" 

Once more, kinky boy. He would love to spread your legs wide open to get a better look at your pussy clenching around nothing. Before finally going down on you. And damn, Sabo is a god when it comes to eating you out. He's really attentive to your needs and always cares about your reactions. He will follow your leads if you guide him or tell him what you like. Please, bury his head against your wet folds. He likes that. The way your body arching, the way you moan, beg, shudder, cry out while he circles your clit. It's music to his ear. If you cum against his lips, then, Sabo would be in pure heaven.

"Look at how wet you are. Can't wait to fill you up." While pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. And as he pulls them off, oh, sure, he would show you how wet you are because he's a tease. Before licking his fingers covered in your wetness. "You taste so good. I bet you pussy will be amazing around my cock."

If you tell him you're ready for more, Sabo, being a smart and responsible boy, would use a condom and lube.

"Shit… you're so tight. You're okay? Want me to stop?" While slowly burying his length inside you.  "That's my brave girl, taking all of my cock so well."

Sabo would make an effort to stay soft and sweet just for you. But you feel too good around him, how you clench and spasm around his girth, your tightness, and wetness... it’s too much for him.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside you."

He would let out a shaky breath, gently steadying you while thrusting into you. Really beautiful moans close to your ears. 

And really clingy during the aftercare. 

(In his mind, he's already thinking about your next round and how his claws would look awesome on your throat.)

Ace

CW : creative use of DF (in a soft/sweet way), slight praises, fingering, face sitting, protected sex, slight dirty talk

If you explain to Ace that you're always nervous and stressed during sex, his first reaction is to panic. And to ask for help from Marco, because Ace is kind and afraid of hurting you. Or not being good enough for you. So he needs some advice, and well, Marco is a doctor. 

Once he's more informed, the next time you're having a passionate making-out session, Ace would try his best to reassure you and be extra sweet for you.

In fact, he doesn't have a lot of experience. He always thinks he's not worthy. So it's not easy for him to be intimate, and random hookups are not something he's comfortable with. 

He would sit you on his laps and cherish every inch of your body. Your curves are a sight to behold. He feels lucky to touch you. His hands are probably shaking a bit because he's both nervous and excited. He would slowly reach for your bottom and cup your ass cheeks with his hands. "I need you so bad, Y/N" 

He would always make certain that you are okay with every action. Like, asking you before touching your breasts, taking off your clothes etc. Such a sweet boy. 

He would just push your panties to the side, feeling the heat between your thighs. "Can I?" His voice thick with need and adoration. Your tightness and warmth around Ace's fingers would make him mesmerized. He would hold you tight while fingering you until you beg and beg for more.

Even if his cock is throbbing with need, but he would be focused on you, and only you. "You're so pretty. Feel how hard I am for you?" 

"You taste so good. I want more" while licking his fingers. 

He would ask you to sit on his face. Because he's so eager. He loves your body, how you feel, how you taste, and the warmth of your thighs pressed against his face. He would love to feel you squirm as he circles your cheek with his fingers and push the tip of his tongue inside you. 

Would playfully slap your ass or grip it to press your pussy more firmly against his lips.

When you tell him you're ready for more, Ace would feel a bit nervous again. So he would let you straddle him. At least you can control the depth. Plus, your body is beautiful, so cowgirl is an awesome position to watch all of your curves again and again.

"Fuck, you're amazing"

Another responsible boy, he would use a condom. Ace is too frightened to have a child by accident. 

He would hold your hips tightly and the moment his cockhead starts to stretch your walls, Ace would turn into a moaning mess because it feels too good for his poor soul. 

"Y/N, you feel so damn good." The more you impale yourself on his length, the more Ace would moan. The sensation is too overwhelming for him, he can't handle it. 

"You're taking me so well. You're alright? You feel me right there?" While gently rubbing his palms along your lower stomach. And if it hurts a bit, he would use his DF to gently massage your lower stomach, soothing you with the nice warmth. 

Ace will lay you on your back and nuzzle his head on your neck once you feel comfortable and relaxed. Although his thrusts are gentle, you can still feel the force behind them. He’s probably holding back a bit. He would be fond of the way you squirm when the cold pearls of his collar touch your skin. 

Beautiful, really beautiful moans. 

And would randomly fall asleep on you after he cum. With his cock still inside you.

Shanks 

CW : face sitting, slight praises, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, pet name (pretty girl), slight size kink, teasing

Shanks may be kinky as Sabo, but if you're already nervous due to stress, he won't bend you over the table to fuck you senseless. 

"Aw, my pretty girl is stressed? Why? Because I'm too big?" with a playful smile on his lips. He's such a tease.

He would be a little goofy, with some silly dad jokes that would make you laugh. Shanks is not always goofy. I mean, if you want him to fuck you rough, he can. But if you're nervous, then he won't mind making things extra fun. The more you laugh, the less nervous you are after all, and that's all he wants. He likes when sex is enjoyable and natural. 

"Maybe I'm armless, but at least, I'm pretty good with my last hand. Wanna try?" with a playful grin.

And damn, he's right. He is talented, even if he has only one hand. The easiest position for Shanks is to sit on his face. First, you're pretty and he loves feeling your juice drip on his chin. Secondly, he's sure he won't lose his balance and just fall on you randomly. Keyword: goofy.

Your pussy's taste would be so intoxicating. Perhaps even better than alcohol. With his hand, he would circle your clit with his thumb and push two thick fingers inside you. You can't help but cum as he stimulates you with his hand and tongue. 

"Mh, that's my pretty girl, all wet and open for me. Look at how my fingers are sliding with ease. I bet you're ready for my cock?" 

He would love how you feel flushed and flustered by his words. Such a tease. 

As you look at his thick and long cock twitching in need, he would just laugh playfully. "Aw pretty girl, don't be afraid, it doesn't bite. I'll stretch you out juuuust nice." 

Shanks is probably a bit lazy sometimes and also loves to look at his girl, so his favorite position is always when you're on top of him. He enjoys observing your curves and how you use him for your own pleasure. 

"Ride me, don't be lazy." 

(So sassy.)

"That's it, take me all the way in." As you gradually impale yourself onto his thick length. Despite your nervousness, he did a fantastic job of soothing you. He will try to alleviate your pain with more silly jokes if it's still painful. "Atta girl" as he's finally balls deep inside of you. 

He would love to watch you bounce up and down as you ride him. His gaze would be fixed on your breasts or his throbbing cock, sliding in and out, all covered by your wetness. "Fuck, you're really swallowing me. You like how nice I'm stretching you?" 

"You're riding me so well. You love riding your captain, huh?" He would squeeze your breasts or ass playfully while you're doing all the work. And, because he's a tease, he would circle your clit with his thumb. He would laugh as you squirm and coat his cock with your juice. "What's wrong, pretty girl?" 

Really chatty and playful throughout the whole time. If you tease him about his missing arm, he would laugh first. If you continue, be ready for him to fuck you senseless, pull on your hair, spank you, and even bite you. "Say that again?" 

(Sure, he would know you're unable to answer because of his relentless pounding. That’s too bad, right?)

Mihawk 

CW : slight size kink, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), mention of knife play, slight praises, slight dirty talk, protected sex 

Mihawk is a gentleman. While he may have some kinks, sex with him is always about consent and respect. Even when he's extra rough.

So if you tell him you're really stressed because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and because of his size… he would be extra careful. 

Mihawk is really classy, so first thing first, he would run you a hot bath for the both of you. And tell you a couple of times how beautiful your bare body is. Gently, he would kiss all of your wet skin, easing your fears, and fondling your breasts. It's probably a bit scary to be so intimate with Mihawk, because his piercing eyes are really impressive. But he's a god when it comes to observing your reactions and learning from them. 

If you lean against his torso, his cock will be pressed against your back. All throbbing with need. But he won't ask you anything: he wants to satisfy you and only you. 

He would love the feeling of your breasts against his palms and sucking on your nipples. "I'm sure you're already all wet for me." Yes, even with the water, he would still know. Again, piercing eyes. "Wanna bet? Let's find out" 

And then, he would carry you to the bedrooms. Extra luxurious and precious bedsheets. The texture is heavenly on your skin. Mihawk would kiss every inch of your body, then spread your thighs. "Look like I was right" with a slight grin, before burying his head between your legs. 

Again, he's all about anticipation and elegance. He won't lick your folds as if he were a savage without manners. His first step would be to kiss your inner thighs. Keyword: teasing. He wants to see you squirm and loves to watch how wet you are already, just for a bit of teasing and anticipation. Perhaps he has a fantasy about running his sword (the small one around his neck) along your inner legs. In a soft way, sure. But he won't do it because you're already anxious.

And when he finally starts to eat you out, damn, it's pure bliss. He would constantly look at you with his hawk eyes to gauge your reactions. Figuring out how your body is working won't take him a long time. Be prepared to cum at least once against his lips. "Stay still." If you squirm too much because it feels too good.

After you cum, he would reach for your face and lips and kiss you. "You like how you taste? Because I do." With a playful grin. 

Another smart man, so he would both use a condom and lube. To reassure you, he would allow you to ride him. As you slowly sink yourself down his length, Mihawk would fall into an exquisite loss of control. 

While holding onto your hips or bedsheets, he would exhale a shaky breath. "You're so tight, I love how you clench around me." While circling your clit with his thumb to ease your potential pain. 

"You're riding me so well. That's my girl." Before giving you his hat. So now, you're a real cowgirl. Seeing his girl riding him with his hat would make his cock throb with need. His hands would tightly hold your hips to help you move up and down his length. The sloshing noises, your moans, shudders, how you clench around him, how your juice is dripping down his cock, how your breasts are bouncing with each thrust… it's too much to handle for his sake. 

"You're so pretty for me." 

He would end up really needy to feel your skin against his. Get ready to stay still on your back as he fucks you with a strong yet gentle pace. A lot of eye contact and intertwining fingers. 

And his deep sighs, maybe even low grunts. A pure delight.

[crguang]

Hi!! May I request NSFW with these prompts. I prefer if you write them with sub afab!reader in mind cuz I'm just a big sub and bottom for these gorgeous women <3 kafhimeswan makes my heart swoon ♥

1. gp!Kafka

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” (#43)

2. Black Swan with this prompt makes me akbdhsbsjsbs hehe “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”(#86)

3. Himeko makes me yearn!! “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” (#64)

btw I always come back to your kafka fics and your black swan 9k+ smutshot, I just can't get them out of my head, I love how you write them!!!

ive been wanting to do this one as soon as you sent it and finally got the time, hehe. save me kafhimeswan, save me… these prompts were amazing, ty for the kind words too!

cw: smut, fem!subreader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration (kafka), fingering and mirror sex (swan), scissoring (himeko)

The two of you are a tangle of limbs and heated touches, needy sighs and broken moans as your lips lock in sloppy kisses and your hands travel down each other’s bodies in messy attempts at undressing the other completely. Kafka has an advantage since you’re only wearing jeans and a t-shirt for this infiltration mission; she lifts the shirt off your head and absentmindedly throws it across the room, and her mouth is back on yours the moment it’s taken off. Her nimble hands make quick work of the buttons on your pants while you fumble with the harness over her chest. She chuckles into your mouth, a low, muffled sound of amusement, and one of your hands leaves her torso to tangle in her hair, gripping tight. Her head tilts back with the movement, a sharp exhale through her nose the only indication of how aroused the gesture made her. The smug smile on her face shows her pearly white teeth. Her eyes, though lidded, threaten to swallow you whole.

“Eager?” She asks, but she doesn’t need an answer. 

Kafka guides you back into the wall with a firm hold on your hips, pinning you between the cool drywall and the warmth of her body pressing against yours. You feel her breath on your lips and her chest into yours. She lifts a hand to tilt your head further up, giving her better access to steal the air from your lungs with another heady kiss. Her tongue explores the inside of your mouth, swirling around your own and wetting your lips in the process. Your mind fogs up and desire takes over your senses. You want her closer despite there being little to no space for it, and your fingers hook under the waistband of her shorts to pull her further into you. Kafka doesn’t bother taking off your bra, she slips a hand under the material and grabs a handful of your breast, delighting in the noise of pleasure she draws from you. She squeezes and fondles, her need apparent in her lack of gentleness. Your hips rock into hers and the pleased hum that rumbles from her throat only turns you on more. 

You’re already wet, you can feel the fabric of your underwear cling to your cunt as Kafka kisses you languidly and plays with your hardening nipple. Your fingers wander down her shorts to palm her over the clothing. The sensation of her growing bulge under your hand combined with her hot mouth assaulting yours makes your head spin. You need her so badly, you’re tempted to beg her to fuck you stupid. 

Her lips trail down your jaw and end where your neck meets your shoulder, parting to suck the skin until it darkens, and her tongue darts out to soothe it afterwards. Her teeth leave love bites across your shoulder, prettily marking you up in a way that would take half an hour to cover up. Her fingers harshly twist your nipple, prompting a surprised moan from you, and you grip her clothed cock over her shorts in retaliation to which she simply hums dazedly. 

“If we had more time I would punish you for that,” her voice speaks of future promises, and she raises her head to gaze down at you, the dim light darkening her irises. “That’ll be for later. Luckily for you, there’s only half an hour before the IPC barges in here, so…”

Kafka pulls her shirt out of her leather shorts and expertly unclasps their buttons. You watch her hands push the clothing past her hips and down to her ankles, busying yourself with doing the same thing to your jeans. Your mouth waters at the outline of her thick cock under her boxers. You swallow a couple of times, not dwelling on your disappointment at the fact that you won’t have the time to properly take it into your mouth. Kafka’s hands are on you again, squeezing your hips as she presses against you and bucks into your covered cunt. Her lips find yours hungrily with a pace even you have trouble following.  She takes, takes, takes what she wants without ceremony; she pulls down your underwear so it hangs around your ankles and spreads your thighs as far as they can go using one hand, never letting go of your mouth and swallowing the breathless whimpers that escape it. 

She betrays her own need with how urgently she sinks two fingers between your labia and smears your slick over your pussy. Her middle finger dips past your dripping entrance, drawing another weak, broken moan from you, but it withdraws a few seconds later. You don’t have time to whine for her to fill you, Kafka separates from your mouth and slides her underwear down her legs, freeing her already leaking cock. You don’t have the time to admire her either, she’s on a mission (well, two) and instantly grinds her cock into your cunt. Your eyes fall shut at the sensation of her shaft sliding between your pussy lips, coating her length in your slick. It brushes the tip of your clit and you have to hold on to the back of her shirt to stay upright, thighs trembling from the pleasure. 

Your needy moans and quiet mewls drive Kafka crazy. Despite the need to keep a clear mind, her desire to take you right there burns hot in her stomach and makes her throb almost painfully. She aligns her cock with your entrance, groaning low as she sinks the head into your warm cunt. Your forehead falls on her shoulder, lips parted to let out another whine, and your fingers’ tight grip on her shirt wrinkles the fabric, pulling her even closer.

“Mm… Slowly, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kafka inches into you slowly enough to allow you some time to adjust to being filled. Her fingertips dig into the skin of your hips. It takes some effort to pause and let you catch your breath once she’s fully inside you. She lifts your thighs and wraps it around her waist to give herself more room to thrust deep into your pussy, not bothering to conceal the drawn out groans that spill from her lips. 

“Mmm…” Kafka’s lazy moans sound near your ear, breath heavy as she fills you with her cock. Her pace is irregular, only seeking pleasure from you, and it takes all of your strength to keep yourself standing against the wall. 

It feels so good, you feel so full, you barely register your own pitiful whimpers. 

“F-Fu—Hah… Please…” You don’t know what you’re begging for; her throbbing head hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you, the release building in your stomach, the need for her to paint your walls white like icing on a wedding cake… 

You can’t think, can only babble broken sentences as she drives into you and pleasure rocks through your body in electrifying little jolts. You don’t feel the saliva at the corner of your lips from how long your mouth has stayed open. There’s that familiar, intoxicating feeling of your guts tightening before you cream on Kafka’s cock with a muffled cry into her shoulder. Her hips stutter, your cunt clenching tight around her and slowing her pace, though the intensity of her thrusts only increases with the need to come herself. She bucks into you roughly, taking your breath away. You see the birth of a star behind your eyelids. Kafka comes suddenly and bottoms out inside you, emptying herself into you in hot spurts, a curse on her lips. 

You’re a bit dizzy when you come down from your high, biting your lip as she slips out of you. You know you have a mission to complete, but your legs have turned into mush and Kafka has to support your standing weight with an arm around your back. You’re breathing heavily, and the minutes pass where your mind begins to sharpen back to its original state. Kafka has a pleased smile on her face, gently letting go of you to dress herself, and you sigh happily while you do the same.

You hear thumping footsteps from the floors below.

“Kafka, where’d you put my shirt?”

“…Mm?”

“…Are you fucking serious?!”

Your eyelids lower, your mind in a daze so blissful you can’t fully register the scene happening through the standing mirror right in front of you. Dried fruit and smoky notes fill the room with the scent of her and unscarred hands brush along the muscles of your arms; the unnatural warmth of her immaterial body pressed into your back cages you in, a dizzying embrace you wish you could live in until her duty calls her away. She is at once in front of you, staring back at you with dim, lustful eyes, and she is around you, touching you like she’s savoring the feel of you under her fingertips. Her presence appears larger than life and you are sprawled in the center of her palm, exposed to her hungry gaze and unable to hide even the deepest parts of you. You find it difficult to meet the galaxy reflected in her eyes, its intensity is only amplified by the fact that she undressed you mere moments ago and you are now stripped to your underwear and completely at her mercy. Round nails painted to match the colorful stained glass jewelry over her collarbones leave proof of their passage in the form of goosebumps that rise on your skin as they trail across your chest, following the edges of your bra. She teases you, revels in your flustered expression and the knowledge that she has reduced you to a puppet on her strings. 

You watch as her hand travels under the pad of your bra and replaces it with her palm, possessively cupping one breast. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes flutter shut for only a second; slender fingers under your chin firmly guide you back to face the mirror and you bite back a needy noise when your nipple is pinched between two digits.

“Forgotten already?” Black Swan’s low, sultry voice sounds from behind your ear, amused and playful. “Eyes on me, sweet girl…” 

You comply and meet her gaze through the mirror, embarrassment washing over you at the sight of her pleased smile and the position you’re in. Your stiff nipples are visible beneath your bra, your thighs are already spread in anticipation for her touch without her saying a word, and in this moment, she could do anything to you and you would take with a desperate moan. Her fingers dig slightly into your jaw, keeping you from moving your head to evade her heated stare a second time. You shift a little, flustered, because the hand around your breast has stopped moving and your body longs for her skillful ministrations.

“You’re squirming…”  You feel her warm breath on the back of your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

Your throat is dry, and you can’t manage a reply. You swallow once, unable to be anything but honest when she looks at you this way, as if she already held every answer you could ever provide. You feel her at the edge of your consciousness, her presence made purposely obvious to your senses. She is everywhere and she wants you to be aware of it. 

“How adorable,” Black Swan’s hand leaves your face and traces the plane of your bare stomach. Her lips stretch in a wider smile, one she means innocent but that has an edge of desire she can’t contain. “Forgive me, darling, but I cannot resist. You are a painting.”

The compliment doesn’t surprise you, she repeats it quite often, but her sincerity still makes you bashful. Black Swan chuckles at your reaction and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Her fingertips slither further down, toying with the waistband of your underwear, and you suck in an inaudible breath, anticipation taut in your belly. You watch each of her movements through the reflecting glass like she wants you to; embarrassment and arousal merge together inside of you as her middle finger sinks between your lips and leisurely rubs your covered slit, feeling the wetness through the thin fabric. You feel Black Swan’s aroused hum from where her lips are still pressed to your skin. She proves her own eagerness by slipping her hand into your panties and running two of her fingers down your slit, properly coating them in your slick. You can’t conceal a quiet moan when she circles your pulsing clit with a digit and applies delicious pressure to the sensitive bud. The hand on your chest resumes its gentle massage. All the while, her eyes, like glowing suns against the pitch black of the firmament, drink in every inch of your body under her touch and sears the moment in a corner of her mind she will share with no one else. 

Black Swan touches you with the expertise of someone who’s learned you from the inside. She draws sharp gasps and breathless moans and lustful sighs out of you as if she were a conductor and you her favored symphony. Her lips follow a path to the crook of your neck, prompting you to tilt your head, and plant hot kisses on your skin. She toys with your clit using two fingers and repeats each ministration with the ones on your nipple. Your stomach tightens, pleasure tingles down to the tip of your toes, and your own fingers grip her thighs to keep yourself upright, digging into the soft flesh. You don’t last long. Your clit throbs as you come with a long moan, eyes screwing shut with the intensity of the pleasure assaulting you, and your thighs close together, trapping her hand between them. She’s forced to stop the sweet torture of your pussy but continues to pinch and twist your stiff nipple under your bra to prolong the sensations.

Black Swan’s mouth wanders up the side of your neck to your ear. She sucks the lobe between her lips, and your chest heaves, body shuddering as your orgasm slowly subsides. 

“How ravishing you are…”

Your lashes flutter at her soft words, blinking to look back at her through the mirror. In her eyes is a bottomless hunger that you’ve become familiar with over time, it is gaping and consuming, and she doesn't have to utter another word for you to understand that she will indeed ravish you.

Himeko is a vision above you, straddled on your lap with her knees on each side of your frame, forcing her plush thighs open; she towers over you as a fragment of your most yearnful dreams, long vivid hair cascading down her back like the most beautiful waterfall and creamy skin so soft to the touch it almost feels blasphemous to sully with your hands. Her bare body is a creation of a higher being, but your disbelieving eyes are drawn to the stars in her eyes when she gazes down at you like you are worthy to stand by her side. She looks at you the same way you stare up at her, with undeniable devotion. It is something you often have difficulty coming to terms with because how can someone so beautiful choose to wake up next to you every morning? Your lips are parted and her gaze is tender, an adept hand brushing up between the valley of your breasts. 

Himeko leans forward until her chest is flushed to yours and cups your cheeks in her warm hands, staring into your eyes with a smile in hers. 

“Is it not obvious how much I adore you?” Her muttered words are warm against your lips, her golden irises as bright as an afternoon sun. 

It is. Himeko loves you in a way that is so evident, to you and everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear. She always handles you so carefully, not because she’s afraid you’ll break with a firmer touch but because this is how she loves. It’s in a reassuring hand on your lower back when you’re nervous and in gentle kisses up your neck when she wants to show you just how much she reveres you. It’s in how deeply she listens when you speak and the words of affirmation that easily spill from her lips. Her feelings are incontestable, she makes sure of it, but your treacherous mind still can’t fully comprehend why. Even now, beneath her weight, you feel she could have anyone she desires and is instead here with you. It’s baffling.

“Of course,” you reply just as quietly, lifting a hand to brush red strands out of her face, “it simply feels… nonsensical, at times.”

Himeko’s thumb brushes the skin under your eye. “You idolize me too much.”

“It’s impossible not to.”

She fondly shakes her head but her small smile is radiant. She traces your features with a finger, over your brows and along the bridge of your nose, then follows the curve of your upper lip. Himeko watches the movement of it on your face before meeting your eyes once again. 

“You’re so beautiful. How could I be anything but in love with you?”

You don’t answer her soft question, averting your gaze for a second. Her head bends to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth before capturing your lips with hers. Her kiss is gentle yet firm, tangible proof of her desire for you, and you feel your body heat up under her for the second time tonight. Her tongue swipes over your bottom lip then slips into your mouth to entangle with yours. You’re aware of the warmth of her thighs caging your hips and the remnants of the pleasure you ripped out of her earlier, a mix of slick and cum smearing over your lower belly from where she is pressed against you. Your hands take hold of her waist, squeezing once. Himeko’s uneven breath fans across your lips when she withdraws from you. Bodies flushed together, you can feel each shiver that runs through her as her need for you builds, the heat between her thighs growing wetter with every kiss she takes from you. 

“You are worth… all of my attention...” she breathes out between each one, “all… of my devotion… so sweet…”

Himeko kisses your lips, your jaw, up your cheek and down to your mouth again like she can’t get enough. Your lashes flutter under her affection, and you readily welcome her mouth on yours, your cunt throbbing with arousal. Her hips begin to roll into you, seeking sweet friction, and she swallows the moan that leaves you. She smears her cum on your skin with every rhythmic motion of her body, but it isn’t enough for either of you. Himeko lifts her head and the thin string of saliva connecting your lips breaks on her chin as she straightens up above you, the embers of her eyes alight with both lust and a determination to prove that her heart belongs to you. 

Her chest rises and falls, perky pink nipples adding a soft color to the canvas of her skin. She shifts, settling between our thighs with one leg over yours, and holds it up over her shoulder with a hand. 

“I want to feel you…” 

Himeko lowers herself on you, slick pussy sliding over yours in a messy kiss, and she makes a low noise that is half moan and half groan at the contact. She looks so pretty with her lidded eyes and parted lips, your breathing stutters as she takes what she needs from you and bucks her hips further into your cunt. A quiet moan escapes you and your fingers grab a fistful of the sheets beneath you. You follow her pace, encouraged by her sounds of pleasure and the feeling of her clit bumping into yours. 

“Aeons… Mmnh…” Himeko’s broken sentences are breathless and underlined with pretty moans. She lifts her free hand to cup her breast, long hair draped over her back when her head tilts back.

She feels so good against you, your combined wetness makes it easy to grind into her pussy in search of friction. You’re unable to look away from the flush across her chest, her rosy cheeks and the shine on her lips, greedily taking in the sight of her as if you’ll wake up any moment and find her gone from your bed. Your body is hot, sweat begins to cling to your brow, but you can’t focus on anything but how gorgeous Himeko is and how good her cunt feels like this. She spreads her cum over you, warm and slick. She doesn’t contain the noises that tumble from her mouth, aroused sighs and low hums, and the frequency of them tells you that she’s close to coming. You feel your own orgasm build in your lower belly, begging to burst. 

“H-Hime—” you stammer pathetically, words interrupted by a needy whine. 

Himeko’s gaze connects with yours at the sound of her name uttered so breathlessly. She understands what you mean to say, she’s teetering on the edge herself, and she manages a quiet command.

“Come with me, sweetheart.”

A quiver runs through your thighs as your release washes over you, and Himeko lets out a high-pitched moan at the same time, fingers closing around her nipple. She comes with you, bucking her hips into your pussy to ride her high, her head tilted to the ceiling. Your cum mixes with hers, dripping down your cunt and ruining the sheets below you. You try to steady your thundering heart, a forearm over your forehead. You feel Himeko’s little shivers and hear her heavy breaths before she finally separates from you and resumes her earlier position on top of you. Her nose burrows into your neck, breasts pressed to your torso, and you wrap an arm around her frame to hold her against you. 

It takes a moment before she can speak properly again. 

“I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” The confession is warm against your pulse, directly spoken over your heartbeat. “I’ll prove it as many times as I have to.”

You don’t tell her that you already believe her.

[frozenjokes]

THE TIME LOOP AU IS ALL WRITTEN!!!!!!!!!! MY GUYS!!!! I can not wait to share the rest of the story TY FOR THE SUPPORT!!!!! ao3 link

below, some snippets from the final chapters. the next will be up tomorrow :3

Cleo smirked, “Keep talking kitty kitty, your days are numbered,” Cleo started to twirl the lasso, and Scar scoffed.

“Keep dreaming.”

Predictably, the first three times Cleo attempted to throw the lasso she missed terribly; Scar had mostly been teaching her the tricks and this required a completely different technique! To emphasize his confidence, Scar tucked all of his limbs under his body, commencing his groom. The sad fwap of the lasso hitting nothing along with Cleo’s continued threats were music to his ears. He frowned as he nosed through his chest fur, coming across a small shard that had wedged itself into his skin. Gingerly, he plucked it away, spitting it back at Cleo before continuing to ignore her. Stubborn, silly creature. He licked away the remaining beads of blood without concern, eyed contentedly shut.

///

“I don’t think you understand how your violence affects other people. I’m still looking for snares every time I walk through a hall. I still feel it around my neck. Sometimes when I think about you it feels like choking.”

“That.” Cub paused, not quite faltering, but not exactly facing Scar with the same confidence. “That was a long time ago.”

“May as well have been yesterday.”

///

“If you want a story so damn bad, tell one yourself. That, or leave it,” Cleo huffed, and Scar mumbled a quiet agreement, moving to cuddle in with her as she finished settling down. Cub stayed where he was, sitting on the edge of the bed. Scar thought the conversation was over then, and the silence had lasted so long that he’d started to doze off when Cub spoke.

“Used to feed the crows in my backyard.” Cub paused for a moment before amending, “Birds. Small animals with wings. Anyway, before my cats died we still had a bit of food left, and my family never really threw anything away. I always took little baggies into the woods when I’d go. It was great. Whole flocks would follow me around, thirty to fifty birds.. I got in trouble for feeding them too close to the house since they figured out where I lived. Cawed all sorts of noise very early in the morning.” Cub nodded to himself, closing his eyes where he sat.

Scar waited for him to continue. The waiting grew increasingly more awkward until Scar couldn’t help but prompt him, “And what happened next?”

Cub yawned, moving to settle in under the sheets beside Cleo. “I stopped feeding them.”

Scar waited. Cub did not elaborate.

…

Maybe this is why Cub had never contributed a story before. He wasn’t particularly talented at telling them.

///

“True soldiers, born in blood,” Grian mumbled, turning away, “Battle forth ‘til his pads are raw, face grave. But never stop. Whether he is good leaves no relevance; however, he certainly is true. As for I.. I can not take his sword. But his family?” Grian sighed, “As long as he chooses to keep it, I will not interfere.” He left them without another word. Scar couldn’t stop staring.

[catt-leya]

for the smutty may : 17 and 40 from the new prompt list👉👈🥺 smt with a size kink and rick going feral but seeing the reader nervous he just has this need to calm them down and assure her 💞 some praise here and there😩😩 <3

Pretend (all 8k words of it) || Rick Grimes 18+

Like I promised the whole edited stuff...I feel like I rushed through the acutal smut part but I just feel that the story is more about the "pretendig" than the acutal smut 💗

Delayed Smutty May 19/05

Summary: Rick is tying to save you from being raped by pretending to fuck you.

Prompts: Is it gonna fit?, I'll make it fit.

Warnings: darker content, oral fixation, dirty talk, chocking (?) mention of rape (not Rick being the sick dude doing it) and my usual smutty stuff

"Put her down," the pretty blue-eyed one stares coldly into the eyes of the guy who grabbed you.

The guy with the vise arms grumbles, "Oh come on. There's more than enough of her for all of us."

"I told you to put her down," you can tell he's reluctant, but the guy lets go of you and shoves you in the handsome man's direction.

Interesting to note that the vise arm is significantly larger than the handsome one, but as you turn around to face the guy again, you can see that he is actually afraid of the guy with the blue eyes.

Which, of course, now makes you wonder why.

How bad does he have to be for a beefy guy to duck his head and mutter, "Whatever."

Smiling gratefully, you turn to your savior, "Thank you. He certainly would have-"

"Shut up and come with me," his voice gives no room for argument.

When you don't move, he hisses, "Either walk yourself or I'll throw you over my shoulder and just take you with me."

Your eyes dart to his hands. 

He's not holding a gun or an axe in his hands to threaten you, but your head is screaming for you to do what he asks because you could do a lot worse if you don't.

Hesitantly, you walk up to him and ask uncertainly, "What are you going to do?"

As you come within his reach, he grabs you by the hand and drags you behind him, away from the others.

This handsome man and his group of men attacked you and before you could save yourself, you were grabbed by the men.

You are not stupid and you know exactly what is in store for you. Especially because the group of the blue-eyed one is an all-male group.

However you imagined this man could be your savior is now completely forgotten as he shoves you behind a brick shack and stands up in front of you, "You need to be loud."

Your lower lip begins to tremble, "Loud?"

He looks down your body, "Yeah, you're pretty, so it makes sense to everyone that I want you for myself."

The first tears leave your eyes, "Please let me go."

At the last word, your voice breaks and the man in front of you sighs softly, "I can't."

Now it's not just your bottom lip that's trembling, no, pure fear floods your body and you shake all over, "Please."

"What's your name?" he keeps his voice low and soft and you tearfully bring out your name.

"I'm Rick and I'm not going to touch you, so please don't be afraid of me," he says it so lightly, but you don't believe a word he says.

Even as he lets go of your arm and takes a small step backwards, "I'd like to help you, but in order to do that you'll have to pretend I'm forcing myself on you."

You wipe your tears from your face, which are quickly replaced by new ones, and sniffle, "Is this some twisted tactic now to make you feel like you're not raping me?"

He sighs and puts his head back, "I know you're scared, but I swear I won't hurt you. As long as you stay with me no one will hurt you. But for that, they must think I have unequivocally laid claim to you. So you can choose if you want to pretend to fuck me or if you want to go to Jack to really get fucked."

Silently, you stare at this Rick.

You remain tense and ready to fight back with everything you've got, but irritatingly, you have some faith in him, so you say quietly, "Okay, I'll stay with you. What do I have to do?"

He looks relieved and nods once quickly, "I need your panties and before you think again that it's a twisted way to get into your pants. No it isn't. It's a trophy I need for the others to believe me."

Surprisingly, you don't object and murmur softly in a tear-choked voice, "Turn around, please."

"I won't turn my back on you. I can only promise you not to look down," again his voice is so velvety soft it gives you goosebumps.

Slowly you nod and reach down.

Motionless he stares into your eyes and you have to give him credit that he really doesn't lower his eyes even once.

Only when you hand him your pink lace panties does he look at your legs covered by a pair of short jeans: "I want you to moan and scream. Pretend I'm fucking you. Pretend I've got your face pressed against the wall and I'm sinking my cock so deep inside you that tomorrow you won't be able to walk."

With your mouth open, you stare at him and he hisses, "Go."

The fact is, his words have embarrassingly turned you on a bit and you take a few seconds to realize what you're doing.

Eyes fixed on your lacy panties in his hand, you groan softly and he hums, "Louder. The others need to be able to hear you."

Again you groan, but he shakes his head. You're still too quiet.

He takes a step toward you and rams his fist into the wall next to your head and you cry out.

"That's it," his praise relaxes you and you stare at him with huge eyes as you moan loudly, "Please."

Rick nods and exclaims, "You dirty whore, want it that way."

You moan and realize how close he still is in front of you. 

So incredibly close.

"Rick," your voice is getting rougher now and he looks down at your lips: "Take it all."

He moves closer to you, "Fucking good girl."

His chest brushes your shoulder and you whimper, which in turn makes him murmur, "Louder..."

Rick's body radiates so much heat that you push closer to him and he growls, "Imagine me pressing you against the wall with my whole body. You could barely move while I fuck you."

Your body trembles and this time it's not out of fear.

"I'd put my lips to your neck and mark you to show everyone you're my property while you spill over your thighs like a good girl," now he shields you completely with his body and with each breath your breasts press against his torso.

He leans forward until his lips graze your ear and he teases you in a low voice, "You're too quiet. The others will be wondering why you're not screaming."

His curls tickle your cheek as he lifts his head again, "But I already know how we're going to solve that problem."

Before you realize what's happening, he lifts his hand to your face and places his thumb on your bottom lip, pulling it down. Slowly, you open your lips and notice the heat rising into your cheeks.

You are so incredibly hot and yet you are shivering all over.

The tip of your tongue brushes the tip of his finger and he murmurs, "Dirty girl."

Then he raises his second hand and unceremoniously pushes your pink panties into your mouth.

Your surprised cry is muffled and he leans forward again, "You look pretty with your panties in your mouth."

You completely freeze as he presses his upper body tighter against you, "When we're about to join the others you'll stay close to me the whole time and I mean it. Even if you want to go pee, I'll come with you. If you disappear alone I can't promise you that one of the others won't find you and you'll have to suck a dick. You won't say anything but "Yes, Rick" and "No, Rick" and if I want something from you, you do it without question. Got it?"

Broad and tall he stands in front of you and even though a little voice in your head tells you he'll 'save you' you're still intimidated and nod with tears in your eyes.

Your panties in your mouth are degrading and the wetter the fabric gets in your mouth, the wetter you get between your legs.

Again he raises a hand and you visibly flinch, "Shhh, remember, I'm not going to hurt you."

With huge eyes, you stare into his blue eyes as he places his hand in your hair and gently tousles it. You realize he wants you to look like fresh sex as he reaches into his thick curls as well, and when he's done, they fall deep into his eyes.

Still shaking all over, he grabs your arm with a sigh, "It's probably not even that bad that you're still so scared of me. It makes it more believable."

He pulls you up next to him and you stumble along beside him as he walks up to his friends.

You feel the greedy stares of the men on you and press yourself against the lesser evil next to you.

"Had to shut her up, huh?", Jack, the guy who wanted you at the beginning, grins at Rick, but Rick just drags you to a big tree.

Rick leans over your shoulder so that his gray beard scratches your neck: "You don't talk to anyone about the fact that I didn't touch you and now sit down on the floor like a good girl and wait until I come back to you. If someone should approach you, call for me. That's all, okay? I will stay within earshot. Just call my name and don't say another word."

You nod and he pushes you to the ground.

There's something inside you against giving in to him, but in some twisted way, you trust him.

Trust him so much that you don't say a word as he pulls your panties out of your mouth and stuffs them into his pants pocket, "I'll be right back. Remember what I said."

You nod, but he doesn't even see it anymore because he's already turning his back on you and walking to his colleagues.

At least, you think they're his colleagues.

Your eyes are glued to Rick's back so you don't lose sight of him in case you need him.

The whole situation has escalated so quickly that you've barely had time to think straight.

Until now.

With your eyes firmly fixed on your 'savior', you try to think about how the hell you're going to get out of here.

The fact is, you trust Rick to some degree.

He hasn't touched you in a lewd way, and he hasn't left you at the mercy of the other guys.

Still, you can't stay here forever and trust Rick to keep his dick in his pants.

"Well, sweetie," you jerk your head around to the sleazy guy at your side.

He bends low over you and saliva flies into your face as he purrs kinkily, "I bet I can fuck you better than that stud. Come on, let's get out into the woods and I'll show you."

He reaches out for you and you flinch, calling out hoarsely, "Rick?"

Your voice isn't loud, but not 5 seconds later, he's standing by you and you stare at him as he juts his chin and looks the guy coldly in the eye, "She's mine and you know it. I. Don't. Share."

Still looking at you, the spitter says, "Don't act like that. She can easily handle another cock."

Rick takes a step forward, shielding you like this, "That's my pussy. Mine alone. I'm not going to stuff my dick in something that had yours in it and if you try I'll rip your balls off and then you can have a go at taking something that's mine."

You make yourself as small as you can, but Rick blindly grabs your shoulder and drags you to your feet.

He pulls you roughly in front of him and grabs one of your titts, "Whose are you?"

Your heart hammers way too fast in your chest and you mumble anxiously, "Yours."

With his hand he squeezes tighter and with tears in your eyes you repeat, "I'm yours, Rick."

The guy stares at your chest, which Rick is clutching, then snorts, "I get it."

With one last look at your terrified face, he shrugs and then turns around, once he's a few feet away from you, Rick lets go of your chest and mumbles a soft, "I'm sorry. Really."

You're shaking all over, and oddly enough, his chest, pressing against your back, reassures you, "I had to do that, or he wouldn't have let go. Of course I don't own you and I'm sorry I had to touch you like that."

You take a deep breath and he asks softly, "Do you want me to let you go-" 

"No!" your voice almost rolls over and a couple of the guys turn to look at you.

With Rick, no one will hurt you. 

With Rick around, you'll be fine.

Panicked, you cling to his arms to make sure he doesn't leave you alone again.

He has to stay.

"Okay, okay," gently he pulls you to him and slides down the tree you were leaning against earlier with you between his legs.

Your little body seems so fragile in the way you cling to him, and it breaks his heart,

Granted, you are beautiful and that is why he wanted you, but he is not sick and would never force himself on you.

He's counting the days until he can rip everyone's head off.

Just not yet.

Now he has to play along.

His warm body presses against yours and at that moment you don't care if it's a sick game on his part to get you into bed after all, because you just want to close your eyes and forget that it's really happening right now.

You take a deep breath and ask softly, "Do you swear not to hurt me if I sleep now?"

Gently, Rick presses you closer to his body, "I swear to you."

Slowly you let yourself sink further against him and murmur ashamedly, "You're staying with me, aren't you? Until I wake up? Don't leave me alone."

You sound whiny, but sleeping is a damn vulnerable position to put yourself in, and you can only pray that Rick really won't hurt you then, and that he'll protect you from the others.

Sleeping while the other men are just waiting to yank your pants off your hips seems impossible, so you sigh in relief as Rick growls, "I'll stay with you. If I have to leave, I'll wake you."

You nod and lean your head against his shoulder, squinting your eyes.

He's not going to hurt you.

He won't hurt you.

He won't.

Rick stares at you for what seems like an eternity, until your breathing calms and he's sure you're asleep, before he leans his head against the tree himself and lets his eyes slide through the group of men.

He will slaughter them all.

A hand gently pulls at your hair and you hear a deep voice, "I have to get up."

Grumbling, you press harder against the heat source and squeeze your eyes shut only tighter.

The underground lifts a little languidly, "You can sleep later."

Then it comes back to you.

You remember what happened and where you are.

Immediately you tear your eyes open and push away from Rick, who smiles slightly at you, "There you go."

You stare at him.

He must have just woken up because his dark curls are sticking out in all directions and his blue eyes are beaming tiredly at you.

Damn, why does he have to be so handsome?

His looks obviously bring him advantages. 

If only for the fact that you like to let him touch you, as you are doing now.

You don't flinch as he leans toward you and pulls you back against him.

He doesn't seem bothered and wants to treat you respectfully, but by the way he looks at you from under his lashes, makes you give in and let him pull you against his chest.

"I thought you had to get up," your voice is rough because you're still so tired and you wince as he laughs harshly, "Changed my mind."

Still you are between his legs, as you fell asleep yesterday, staring at his chest that rises and falls regularly.

The fact is that he hasn't moved an inch and has spent the whole night leaning against the tree, while also allowing you to abuse him as a pillow.

There is a comfortable silence between you and him and at that moment you realize that nothing is stirring in your camp.

Confused, you look up at Rick, "Why is everyone still asleep when you have to get up already?"

One of his hands is on your hip, squeezing gently as he reaches with the other to smooth his hair, "Why are you so curious?"

Rick pushes his hair back, but it immediately springs back to its previous place and without much thought, you raise your hand and reach into his curls yourself.

Surprised, he blinks at you and drops his own hand as you fix his hair, "Well, if you're waking me up in the middle of the night because you really need to get up, I do wonder what the reason could be."

His soft curls slip through your fingers and you tug lightly as you pull out a leaf.

"I need to meet with someone," Rick's voice deepens as he speaks more quietly.

You push his hair behind his ears in one last motion and then nod slowly, "Okay, but take me with you."

So you sit up in a way that disengages you from him, he still keeps his hand on your hip and somehow you don't mind.

"Why?" his question is logical.

Why would he take a stranger with him?

But you wonder who he wants to talk to, so you tell the truth: "It may be that my people skills are completely crap, but I have a feeling you don't fit in with the guys here at all. I'm not stupid and I can see that they're scared of you, but I'm pretty sure it's not because you're brutal towards women. So I'd like to know what you're doing because I kind of trust you and actually would hate to sit here separated from you until you come back or one of those bastards rapes me."

Dumbly he stares at you and you pull a face, "Please? I'll also do exactly what you want me to do and shut up, of course."

For a moment he still says nothing and when you already think he's really going to leave you here he sighs softly, "Fine, you can come with me."

Smiling broadly at him, you push yourself to your feet and stand up.

From above, you look down at him as he grumbles and ponderously stands up, and curiously you ask, "How old are you, anyway?"

Immediately his eyes dart back to you before he turns and leads you deeper into the forest: "Old enough to be your father."

Stumbling, you jog behind him and reach for his hand in the darkness, "Is Rick your real name?"

He doesn't pull his hand from yours and instead slips his fingers through yours, "Yes."

His hand is large and warm in yours, "Is it a short form? For Richard?"

Rick sighs, "Didn't you say you wouldn't talk?"

"When we get to your meeting place. Soooooo?" your voice is soft.

Gently he pulls you closer to his side as he dodges a branch, "No. Just Rick."

Your hip brushes his leg and you smile broadly at him, "The name suits you."

There's silence for a moment, then he sighs, "Okay, you've got my attention. Why does the name suit me?"

You can barely see his face in the darkness, but you look at him anyway, "Oh, I just couldn't imagine a soft and melodic name with you. You're...too hard."

His soft laugh fills the forest, "I'm hard?"

Immediately, a blush rises to your face as you realize what he's alluding to.

Gently, he pulls you closer to him again and squeezes your hand, "So? I thought you wanted to talk to me. Don't you want to tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You keep quiet about the fact that you're thinking about his cock, even though you imagine he knows what you're thinking about, or he wouldn't emphasize it so much.

He lets go of your hand and puts his arm around your shoulder. You know he's teasing you and wants to tease you, but you suddenly feel boiling hot and bite your lower lip, "Why are the others afraid of you?"

Rick is pleasantly warm beside you, "Why aren't you?"

Good question.

Why aren't you afraid of him?

Respect? Yes.

But you're actually not afraid.

You don't mind him touching you and you have to admit that you even like feeling his hands on your body.

"Don't avoid my question," you tug on his jacket and he sighs, "Yeah, okay. I've had to do some things to survive so far. As have we all. But it seems like what I've done is probably pretty scary."

You absently slide your cold hands under his jacket hem and he winces. 

He's so ridiculously warm that you sigh softly, "What did you do?"

His stomach feels tight and flat under your palms, and you can't believe he's letting you do this to him.

He remains silent, then says in a low voice, "I bit out their former leaders' throat and gutted another one of them alive."

You trip over your own legs and Rick stops to catch you and you pull your hands from his body, "You what?!"

Cocking your head, you look up at him and he tilts his head, "I bit his throat out and spit the piece on the ground while he bled out at my feet and yet I'm a better man than the group I'm with. Yes, I have massive amounts of blood on my hands, but I can proudly say you actually have nothing to fear."

Blinking, he lowers his gaze and leans forward so that his lips graze your ear, "I won't hurt you."

You freeze as he leans in even further and you feel his teeth against your neck, "Do you know how pretty you are?"

The jump in subject is so huge that your brain can barely keep up and all you can feel is his lips on your skin.

His body is so close to you that you realize again how much taller Rick actually is and when he reaches for your wrist and clasps it in his big hand, you whimper softly.

Not from pain, but from pure excitement.

Just being near him makes you so ridiculously hot that your voice is all husky, "Your meeting."

Gently he walks towards you and you take a step back.

"He can wait," and he takes another step toward you and you back away again.

His fingers still encircle your wrist, but you make no move to pull away from him either. Instead, you let him push you up against a tree and stare up at him.

He lifts his head and looks down at you.

Nothing more.

He just looks at you, and in the dim light breaking through the trees, his eyes seem unnatural.

It's completely silent around you and the only thing you hear is his quiet breathing.

Slowly you lower your gaze, because you can't look him in the eyes all the way through, and let your gaze glide over his neck and broad shoulders.

You feel him staring at you as you look at his chest and stomach.

He is a handsome man.

That's clear.

Slowly, he releases his fingers from your wrist and slides them through your fingers again, "Come."

Completely perplexed, you let him pull you further through the forest.

You could have sworn he would kiss you.

Wouldn't pretend, but would really put his lips on yours and you would have let him.

He pulls you through a bush and then you're at a road and across from you you see a guy pacing back and forth, "Where have you been?"

Rick pulls you to his side, "I got a little distracted."

You try to make out the guy with the raspy voice a little better in the dim light.

His longer hair brushes his shoulders as he lowers his head a bit and looks at you, "Who is she?"

The two men speak as if you're not there, but as you promised, you shut up and grit your teeth as Rick growls, "She insisted on coming along."

The guy with the long hair raises an eyebrow, "And you couldn't just say no and leave her behind?"

You tense up and Rick squeezes your hand, "She would have run after me."

Now you feel like a dog, but he's not wrong either.

The guy finally looks at you and then rolls his eyes, "Dude, you could be her father."

Rick snorts, "It's not like that, Daryl."

This Daryl throws an arm in the air, "Of course it's like that. You can't sell me that you don't want to fuck that girl."

Stiffly, Rick takes a step toward Daryl, but you're quicker, digging a finger into the long-haired ass's chest, "I can take a lot of shit. For my sake, you can talk over my head like I'm not even there, but I swear I'll rip your dick off if you even mention whose dick I let inside me and whose I don't one more time."

Dumbly staring at you, Rick chuckles softly behind you, "See? I didn't stand a chance."

Slowly, Daryl takes a step back and grumbles, "Fine by me."

He shoulders the crossbow you're only now seeing and asks quietly, "How's it going?"

Rick removes his hand from yours and steps around you, "Slow as hell, but I should be able to get it in a few days."

You look up at him and cross your arms, "What do you want to get done?"

"You'll see when the time comes," Rick's eyes flash and you grit your teeth. Of course, he wouldn't tell you what he wants to do.

For a few minutes the two men talk and you have no idea what they're talking about when Rick finally murmurs to you, "We've got to get back or they'll start wondering where we are."

Sure enough, the sun has risen in the meantime and Daryl slowly backs up, "I'll be back in two days."

Rick gives him a slight nod and grabs my hand, "Come on."

He pulls me back into the woods and I look back over my shoulder at Daryl who disappears into the woods on the other side, "You're actually with another group, aren't you?"

Rick growls in agreement and you squeeze his hand, "Knew you are."

You notice how tense Rick is as he mutters, "I'm sure the others noticed we weren't there."

He lowers his head and pulls you back against a tree.

Unresisting, you let him push you against the tree a second time in a short time, and he sighs, "We've been out too long."

You bite your lower lip and dare to ask him directly, "Then why don't we just get out of here. Take me with you and let's go."

Rick shakes his head, "I can't."

You look at him questioningly, but he just shakes his head and then puts it to the side a little, "Come on." He points to his neck and you stare at him, completely perplexed, "Huh?"

You have no idea what he wants from you and he rolls his eyes with a sigh, like you're slow on the uptake, "Give me a hickey, sweetheart."

'Sweetheart'.

That's the pet name he gives you and you like it. 

Maybe you took a liking to him.

"Why?" your voice is low and weak and he growls, "Proof."

His bright eyes bore into yours and you nod, "Okay."

You stand on your tiptoes and place your lips on his neck.

On the spot between his neck and throat.

Tears well up in your eyes as you start to nibble on his skin.

Not because it's so bad, but more because you're a bit ashamed of how much you enjoy putting your lips on his body.

Gently, he places his hand on your back to pull you closer to him and murmurs harshly, "Good girl."

Your breasts are pressed against his chest and with tears on your cheeks you whimper against his skin.

He feels the tears land on his skin and his heart tightens, "I'm going to get you out of here soon."

You suck on his neck one last time and then lick over the red glowing spot before looking into his eyes and he stares at you languidly, "You even look pretty when you cry."

You blink and he presses you against a tree with his body, "So beautiful."

His body against yours feels so good and you lick over your slightly swollen lips as you look briefly at his neck and murmur, "You think I'm pretty?"

"Fuck, yeah," he stares at your lips and you're afraid your heart is going to jump out of your chest.

Yes, he pushes you against the tree and constricts you, but otherwise he doesn't hurt you.

He wouldn't touch you.

His beautiful eyes bore into yours and you feel the need to lean forward again and press your lips to his collarbone.

He's so strong and so damn manly that you press your legs together and lick your lips again, "One hickey will do?"

His eyes flash and he takes a deep breath, "What do you want?"

So many possibilities.

Endless possibilities.

The thought of him giving you almost anything you want crosses your mind and you swallow hard, "Kiss me."

Slowly he leans in and growls, "I shouldn't. We're just pretending."

With a pout, you bat your eyelashes and press closer to him, "Pretending?"

His nose brushes your cheek, "Hmhm.."

As a few leaves rattle, Rick flinches and lets his gaze wander to see if anyone is watching you, but you lift your hands and place them on his cheeks to turn his face back to you.

You've never touched him so intimately before. 

It's intimate in a different way than his hand on your titts.

His gaze softens and you pull his face closer to yours, "If you want, you can pretend to kiss me."

His breath hits your lips as he breathes, "Sweetheart."

"Please," you lean forward yourself to join your lips.

He flinches but applies pressure into the kiss himself.

Your fingers slide through his beard and he moans harshly into the kiss.

He's warm and hard and when he presses his leg between your legs, you gasp against his lips.

It's bold and direct, but not overbearing.

Gently, he pushes your head back a little and that gives him the opportunity to kiss you deeper.

So much deeper.

His tongue is in your mouth and you can taste him. 

Can taste the mint leaves he chewed earlier.

He puts one hand low on your hip and the other slips a few inches under your shirt as he hums at your mouth, "I'm not taking advantage of you. We're just pretending."

His hand feels rough on your soft skin and you reach for his waistband.

Immediately, he releases his lips from yours and murmurs, "We don't have to do this."

Rick is a good man, you're sure of it by now. 

You have no idea what he's doing among all the assholes, but he's not one.

Frozen, he doesn't resist as you unfasten his belt and undo the button, "Rick, I want you."

And you don't want to just pretend he's fucking you.

His blue eyes dart over your face, "Aren't you afraid of me?"

Gently, you lean further into his touch and kiss his jaw, "No, and I don't want a show either. I want it to be real."

Your hand slides into his pants and he gasps hoarsely.

His cock is hard in his pants and so fucking big, "Do you want me?"

Your little hand closes tighter around his cock and his brain shuts down, "Fuck yeah."

It's been ages since he's been inside a woman and he's probably never wanted anyone as much as he wants you.

He presses his hips harder against you, not giving a thought to whether or not he's smothering you with his body.

His movements become frantic and needy.

He pushes your hands aside and grabs your pants.

It's all happening so fast.

One moment you're asking him if he even wants you, and the next you're standing half naked in front of him, with a big cock wedged between your bodies.

Your confidence disappears with each twitch of his cock and you look up at him nervously, "Is it gonna fit?"

Rick bites his lower lip and stares at his twitching cock against your belly, "I'll make it fit."

You wince and immediately he looks you in the eye again.

Your whole body tenses and the wild look he was giving you before softens, "Are you nervous, sweetheart? When was the last time you had a cock in your pussy?"

Briefly your eyes dart back to his cock, "It's been a while...and it's never been this big either. Rick, I'm small...I don't know if you can push into me."

Gently, he puts a finger to your chin and lifts it a little before kissing you softly, "That's okay. I'll go real slow and if you want me to stop, I'll do it without you having to explain yourself."

Lasciviously, he leans even closer and murmurs hoarsely against your ear, "And your pussy is made to take cocks inside you. Most of all, your pussy is made to swallow my cock."

Your knees go weak and all you can do is nod.

His cock is so hard against your belly, you start rubbing against him pathetically.

Panting, he presses against you even harder and you slide your belly up and down his cock as you grab his upper arms and whimper, "Please, Rick."

Breathing heavily, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

His beard scrapes across your chin and your movements become more choppy and needy as Rick slips his tongue between your teeth and you groan hoarsely.

His cock twitches between you and he growls into your mouth, "Fuck, you're so pretty."

Hectically, you nod and kiss him harder as he pulls his hips back slightly and instead of his knee, slides his cock between your legs.

The length of his shaft slides lengthwise through your labia and feels so good against your clit that you bite his lower lip hard and your body trembles.

Without thinking, you rub against his cock and with each moan he hears from you he rewards you with, "Good girl. So needy for me."

Shamelessly you press your breasts against him and he murmurs, "That's it."

Purposefully, he pulls back his cock, glistening with your wetness, and then adjusts it so that it presses against your wet pussy entrance and you throw your head back into your neck.

His broad tip pushes an inch inside you and your whole body tenses. 

He's too big.

Without you having to say it, Rick knows and slides his lips to your ear, "I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax and let it happen. Just let me take you."

Gasping, he presses a little further into you, widening you so much that you can barely see straight.

All your senses are focused solely on the stretching that Rick's thick cock is causing inside you.

Trembling, you try to relax, "Rick."

Your voice is rough and far too fragile, but as he gives you more of himself his name is lost in a moan and he gasps, "Oh holy shit, you're tight."

It feels to him like you're crushing him and he has to pull himself together to keep from slamming his cock into your tight cunt in one thrust.

With circular motions you try to lower your hips further onto him, again teasing your clit that pulses between your legs and literally screams for Rick.

You barely notice as Rick lifts his hand and reaches for your neck.

He presses the back of your head against the tree and looks at you from under heavy lids, "You're going to take every inch, right?"

"Yes, Rick," your voice is a gasp as he presses further into you.

He kisses you on the cheek, "That's my pretty girl."

Almost languidly he pushes himself into you inch by inch and you squirm and moan his name over and over until he growls, "Oh fuck," and is up to his balls in your cunt.

You can't manage another sentence and just mumble, "Full. So full."

He fills you completely and nods at your words, "Shhh, I know."

His thumb glides over your pounding pulse and then your jaw.

Quickly, you turn your head a little to the side and grab his thumb.

Gently, you suck it into your mouth and feel Rick wince and move inside you.

Sucking on his thumb while his cock is inside you feels dirty, but it also turns you on and you animate him to finally move inside your pussy and give you both what you desperately want and need.

Rick stares at your mouth as he pulls his hips back and then thrusts into you again, "You like the dirty stuff, huh? Like it when I use you."

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and he hisses, "You want to be mine."

You groan.

He feels good.

Too good.

With each thrust his cock rubs against your clit and trembling you get closer to your climax.

With each thrust he comes closer to his climax.

He presses his thumb flat on your tongue, "Make me cum inside you. I want to mark you."

You gag slightly and nod.

Hard he rams his hips against you and you can barely think as the knot loosens in your stomach and you squint your eyes.

You tighten around him and Rick moans, "That's my girl. Perfect little pussy."

With one final thrust, he presses his whole body against your small body and pulls his thumb out of your mouth to kiss you hard as his cock twitches and pulses inside you.

You cling to Rick and whimper into his mouth, "So good."

"I know," his voice is low and his accent heavy.

Slowly he pulls out of you and with him you feel his cum drip out of you down your thighs.

You feel dirty.

And so fucking hot.

Snorting, he rests his forehead against yours, "We really need to get back."

"Yeah," neither of you move.

Rick searches your gaze: "I'll get you out of here as fast as I can. I promise."

You nod and in silent agreement you get dressed and you follow Rick back to the camp and the people you met him with, not knowing why he's even with them or what his plan is.

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[gojo-mochi]

Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine

Pls and ty:)

Have a great day<3

Prompt: Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine.

A/N: First time at angst! WOOO (ง ื▿ ื)ว I kinda went overboard with this one…. So it took kinda long aha, Hope you enjoy tho anon if you’re still here!

Content Warning: Fem!reader, Angst, Mild blood, Reader is a new marine fresh out of training, Reader is all slightly different in each head canon since each person’s dream girl wouldn’t be the same, hurt/ no comfort.

Not Proofread

Word Count: 5.4K

Luffy:

First Meeting:

You were on your first job, patrolling around the island to catch any criminals or report any bad deeds. With rifle clutched in hand, you practiced your stomping routine all-thru out the day, eyes darting around to scan the whole area. That was when you came across a boy? Or a young man  now that you glance over his ahem nice build, passed out in a alleyway. You immediately rush over to him, kneeling down and lifting up his head and checking for any obvious wounds or blood.

“Foo-food….so hungry..”

You heard him faintly groan out, followed by a loud stomach rumble. ‘Poor thing must not had eaten in a while..’ You pondered looking at his thin frame. You gently rest his head on your lap while you pull out your lunch bag. As soon as the stranger heard the sound of your bento opening, his eyes shot open, drooling pooling out of his mouth. You stifled a giggle at the sight, taking a pair of chopsticks and picking up one of the fried chicken you made for lunch. Offering it to the strange man, his lips seem to ‘stretch’ out and enveloped the whole chicken piece in a flash.

“Mm... yummy!”

You didn’t think more on that strange moment when the man urgently asked for more by making grabby hands motion and pouting out his lips. You couldn’t back your giggles at this point, once again picking up your chopsticks to hand feed this man. Soon, your whole lunch box was emptied and the man leans up, carefully positioning his straw-hat on top of his head. ‘That looked oddly familiar to me but why..’ Your thoughts get broken though as the strange man loudly smacks his lips together and turns to give you a thumbs up with a wide smile. “The meal tasted amazing! Almost as good as Sanji’s cooking!”

You blush a bit at his compliments, you always cooked for yourself so hearing someone saying that they enjoyed you’re cooking was new… and pleasant. “Ah! I forget to introduce myself.” You got up and dust off your pants, it was a new Marine Uniform they were testing out so you hate to get it dirty so quickly. “My name is y/n, may I asked for yours?” You reach out our hand in your introduction and the man’s hands quickly came to hold them.

‘Warm…’ You thought silently.

“Luffy!” He shakes your hand up and down rapidly, “You’re really pretty and nice by the way! You should come meet my crew! I’ll have Sanji cook something as a Thank You for giving me your lunch!” He spoke out in quick succession, not giving you time to respond back. Though you can feel your face heating up at hearing him call you ‘pretty’. “Oh right! I was supposed to meet up with my crew somewhere! I need to run now but see me later, yeah?!” You could only stare at his back as he starts to rush off somewhere.

Luffy’s POV

‘That food was so yummy! And the lady was so nice and pretty and wow!’ Luffy’s thoughts usually went a mile a min, especially now expect it was all about you. He couldn’t wait to tell his Nakamas about what happened today. He thought about how soft your lap was to rest on, how he enjoyed every single bite of food you gave him, how even more delicious the food was when it was coming from your hands. He had a skip in his steps as he ran around the island looking for any signs of his crew, ‘I hope y/n likes Sanji’s cooking! Maybe so much that she’ll even join us!’

A/N: Luffy not the type to fall in love in first sight, so idk how to exactly write out him meeting his dream girl other than this  ｡･ﾟ･(ﾉД`)ヽ

Second Meeting:

You were alerted by your Commander about a group of pirates causing havoc near the docks. You dash to the dock ready to deal damage to these Pirates. ‘How dare they! Terrorizing a small island like this one!’ You thought angrily as you get closer to your destination. You soon come across a giant blue haired robot person? And a green haired man wielding three swords. Your allies were being slashed down right in front of you. You brought out your rifle and took aim at the pirates ready to fire at a moment notice.

When you noticed a certain straw hat jumping over everyone. Your heart was thumping, blood rushing to your head as you screamed out; “Luffy!?”

Luffy turned to look at you in midair and grinned wide, stretching his arms impossibly long to where you were. He crash land in front of you with a loud ‘thud’. “Y/N! You made it!” He yelled near your ears excitedly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You get shoved him off and point your rifle at him with shaking hands. He gives you a sad puppy eyed look. “What’s wrong?” He tilts his head in a way that almost makes you stumble in your step. But you hold fast; “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong is that you are damn Pirate!”

You raise up your rifle again in fury. Did he not know that you were a Marine this whole time? …No, he must had known and pretended to be sick so you lowered your guard down or something, after all, all pirates are the same. You blink away the tears in your eyes, the expression on Luffy’s face almost tricked you into believing that he was clueless in all of this. “Surrender now! Or else I will use this!”

You get slammed by a reindeer or some sort of reindeer liked monster. Your back hits the ground with a hard “Oof.” Escaping your lips, through bleary eyes you can barely see Luffy reaching out for you before he was pulled away by that swordman. Another Marine goes to help you back up, you wince at seeing how your forearms were all scratched and bleeding now. With only rage fueling your voice you scream as the Pirate’s ship was getting ready to sail away. “This isn’t over Luffy! You’re dead to me!”

Luffy’s POV

The Sunny was sailing away and everyone on the ship was safe and accounted for. They made off with bags of food as well. Sanji even said he was making a feast tonight. So why did Luffy feel so sad… He only known for a couple of mins but those memories kept replaying in his head. Your warmth and your kindness, it was replaced with the vision of you screaming out and on the ground bruised.

His crewmates were quick to noticed Luffy’s new attitude, him slumped over on the railing just looking at the island as it fades out of view. When anyone came up to ask, Luffy didn’t give them a answer on why he was feeling this way, he just was. He hoped that the next time you guys end up meeting that it would turn out better but the bitter feeling in the back of his mind told him that you wanted him dead. Why did you have to turn out to be a Marine… he then wondered if he could change your mind and turn you into a pirate instead.

With that new plan in mind, he cheered up a bit and went to bother Sanji about when dinner was ready. He kept rubbing at his chest the whole day though, trying to suppress the ache he felt inside.

Zoro:

First Meeting:

You were cursing your way into shelter as the rain poured down on you. Keeping your sword close to your body as you huddled underneath a tree. ‘Damn it, of course it would rain as soon as I finished with my sword training for the day.’ You cursed silently, wringing out the sleeves on your robe. You always switch out of your usual Marine’s uniform when training but now you’re began to regret that choice. The Marine’s uniform were waterproof to a degree, given how much of your work was out on the sea.

You huff out, rolling your eyes to the dark overcast, flipping it off like it would make any sort of difference. You heard a snort coming off from the left. You jump up a bit in shock, glad that you’re commander wasn’t here to see you be so careless enough not to notice another presence near you. You glare at the new person, not out of any hatred, just annoyance. Why were you even annoyed at this person? You don’t really have an answer for that…

You take a good look at the stranger, he have oddly colored green hair, a scar over his eye, and three swords hung by the side of his hip. He sends over a small smirk when he catches you staring for too long at his open chest. “A picture would last longer, you know?” He taunted with a slight tilt of his head. You feel a fierce blush coming up and you tore your eyes away from watching the rain droplets go down on his admittedly nice abs. You faked a cough and straighten your shoulders out.

“I was just making sure you weren’t a threat or anything like that.” You grunted out. You blush even more when the stranger gave you a toothy smirk in response as he hums. The hums almost came out as growl from how deep it sounded. “So, do you still think I am threat then little missy?” His grey eyes now scanning over your body. Your hands itches towards your sword but you stop yourself.

“I’m Y/N, and I’m…” You took a small pause, “I’m sigh sorry about before, thinking you were a threat and all that.” You did feel bad for glaring at him for no reason, after all he didn’t do anything to deserve it. The man shifted his position, letting his robe fall open, exposing even more of his tanned skin and scarred muscles. “Tis’ fine, it’s not like I blame you for staring.” Oh, alright, now you don’t feel bad for glaring at him.

“I was-wasn’t staring!” You quickly snapped back, which cause the still unnamed man to barked out a laugh. You start to grind your teeth, ‘Fuck him and his stupid attractive laugh too.’ You thought as you turn to find shelter elsewhere. You felt a tug as the man grabbed on to your wrist and pulled you back.

“Hey! Wait! I uh fuck.” He lets you go. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you alright. So don’t leave ok?” His voice sounded a bit softer than before. When you turned around, you catch sight of a small blush painting over his face. It made your heart skip a beat. You shuffles back to your spot, next to the man, letting your shoulder bump against his tall frame. “I didn’t know that you wanted me back that badly.” You jested, feeling off the warm feeling crawling up.

You heard another snort come off the man, and then the warmth of his broad hand coming to ruffle your hair. He didn’t say anything in return though, just letting the pitter patter of the raindrops wash over you two. It took a while and some brushing of hands and fake coughing for one of you to speak up again. “So.. what type of sword style do you use?” The man grunted and looked over to the sword by your hip. You drummed your fingers on the hilt of your blade nervously at his intense gaze.

“I came from a place called Mount Hua, and I was taught the Plum Blossom sword technique there.” You tilt your head back to glance as his expression. Most people would scoff when they see a woman with a sword so you wonder how he’s reacting. It catches you by surprise to see him so intrigued by your words. “Could you show me once this damn rain goes away?”

He sounded serious about it, not like all the others who taunted or mocked your style. ‘Plum Blossom style? Heh! Sounds girly enough for a woman to use! What does it do? Make everything pretty? Bahahah!’ Your thoughts race to all the things people said to you before. You faked another cough and tried to secretly wipe away your tears that were threatening to fall. You just settled for a nod, looking away, hoping that the man doesn’t see your tears. You hear some shifting beside you and the hand returns upon your head.

His callous fingers gently sunk into your hair, scraping against your scalp tenderly, it almost makes your purr from the sensation. He stayed silent, just letting his hand convey all his feelings. The rain soon ended after this moment, you didn’t know if you wanted to be happy or cry that it was over. You step out from under the shelter and give a head nod to the man. You wondered what a good time to ask for his name, it feels awkward to ask after so long.

The man gave a nod back and began to follow you as you walk to a good place to show off your sword technique. You suck in a shaky breath, readying your sword stance. Closing your eyes and steadying your mind, your body goes thru the motions you repeated so many times before. Right foot first, swing your sword out into an arc, twist your body and follow that arc, another step into a whole dance. Move your body like the swaying petals that descend down from Mount Hua.

Since your eyes were closed the whole time, you didn’t get to see the awestruck expression the man wore on his face the entire time. Mouth slightly agape and his one eye never leaving your form as you make the plum blossoms  bloom around you with each swing. It was breath-taking and utterly ethereal, the man thought to himself. His own hand itching to try and copy your sword style. He wanted desperately to see more of this technique and more of you if he was being honest.

Once you were done, the plum blossom softly fall down around you, it made you look heavenly. You tried to not let out a wheeze, controlling your breaths unless your heartrate fully calmed down. Your turns toward the man as he was walking to you, mouth open to say something but cut off by the ringing of your transponder snail. Pere Pere Pere…. Click. You take out the snail from your pocket, it’s eyes opens as your commander’s shouts out. “Y/N! Where are you!? We have a code red down at the docks! Hurry over now!” You stammered out an yes while shooting the stranger a apologetic look. You quickly took foot to the docks, your duties outweigh everything else.

Zoro’s POV

His hand reached out before his mind could react but you were already gone. ‘Shit..’ Zoro looked back to the plum blossoms scattered on the ground. Picking one up between his fingers, rolling it around he sighs. Hand going to rest on his sword hilt he wonders if he could make flowers bloom like you could. His mind flashed back to your sorrowful expression when he asked you to show off your technique. You must had a hard time in the past, his fist balled up in fury at the thought of someone… anyone making you cry like that. He shook his heads as these kind of thoughts filled his head, it was unusual for him to feel such strong emotions and for someone he barely knows as well. He rolls his shoulders and tries not to delve deeper into these new emotions, wondering where the hell his crew was. (A/N: Zoro was supposed to meet his crew an hour ago but he got lost ofc ヽ(~_~()

Second Meeting:

Clang! Your sword comes down and clashed against the large blue metal arm of the cyborg. “Woah there lady! Why don’t we all calm down and talk about this, yeah?” You stepped back when arms sprout from the ground trying to grab your ankles. “We can talk about this once you all are all in handcuffs!” You ready to swing again but you stumble in you step when you caught sight of a familiar green head of hair. A fellow officer catches you before you fully fall flat on your face. “Get it together L/N!” You nod at your fellow officer.

Fighting down the urge to puke when the green haired stranger goes to join the Pirate Crew’s side. Your lips pressed together when you see him take out his swords against the marines. Your body tense and you made your way to the man. Swish! Clang!Zoro’s eye widen when you clashed swords. “Y/N? Wh-what? Why the hell are you here?!” Veins forming on his forearms as he tried to push back against your attack. “I should be asking you that! If I had known that you were a damn pirate I would never had-!” Your breath falters as your eyes start to well up with tears. Zoro let out a hiss when you managed to nick his arm a bit.

You could feel that he was holding back, not putting his full strength into his attacks. You growled out, “Stop doing that! Are you going easy on me just became I’m a girl?!” You swung down again with a heavy arc. Zoro jumped back shock and then anger paints over his face. “I wouldn’t hold back just cause of that! You don’t know a damn thing about me!” He snarled out, accidently putting some of his haki into his next swing, the force pushed you all the way across the battlefield. Your Commander caught you before you fell into the ocean.

Your head was dizzy and your ears was ringing, you felt your Commander’s hands on your back and neck as he props you up a bit. His visage was hazy and you could slightly hear the words, “Y/N?! Ar- -ou wi—me!? Y/N!!” The last thing you saw was Zoro in the distance, jumping up on the Pirate’s ship and leaving. You soon pass out in your Commander’s arms afterwards.

Zoro’s POV

He was getting patched up in Chopper’s office, heart still thumping from the visage of you all bloodied on the ground. From his own attack as well. He hiss out when Chopper applied the medical salve on a  particularly grisly wound. “Sorry Zoro! Are you alright?” Chopper fretted over him, going to check over every inch of his body again. Zoro only grunted a “Is ok.” In return and stood up. He waves off Chopper’s worries and ignores the stinging stares on his back from the rest of his crewmates once he walked out on deck.

He goes up to the Crow’s Nest, pretending the paining in his arms weren’t there. He looks at all his gym equipment and slumps his shoulders, opting to just lay on the ground. ‘A nap sounds fine I guess…’

His hand goes inside his robe to pull out a single plum blossom petal, he rolls between his fingers, admiring the soft shades of colors. His mind goes back to you, your cute expression when he teased you, your form when dancing, and you.. dead on the ground because of him. He shuts his eyes and holds the petal close to his chest and goes to sleep. Wondering if things went differently, where you would be now…

Sanji:

First Meeting:

You pulled the short stick and got tasked with the duty of groceries shopping for the rest of your team this week. You squint at the long list your Commander gave you. “Apples, Bread (Make sure to get Rye NOT WHEAT), Meat, (Beef, Pork, Lamb if you find it), Bruss-oof.” You hit the back of a tall blonde stranger, stumbling backwards you shut your eyes preparing for the crash landing. Only to find yourself in the arms of the same stranger you bumped into. “Woah there! Are you alright ma chérié?” A smooth voice asked. You open you eyes to find the face of the stranger, a handsome man with a curly brow.

With his arms wrapped securely around your waist he brings you back up to your feet. You stuttered out an apology and bowed to your savior. He chuckles and bowed back with a more flawless posture. “No need to thank me, I will always help a beautiful lady in need.” He then put his hand out in asking for yours. You blush at the compliment and bashfully gave him your hand, he then proceeded to plant a soft kiss on the back of your hand which cause you to blush even further.

“May I ask why you were in such a big rush, my dear?”

“O-oh! I was getting groceries and I was looking at my list and not paying any attention, which I am so sorry for again!” As you explained your reasoning you went to show the list that held all the items you needed to buy. Expect it wasn’t in your hands anymore or your pockets for that matter. You pat around your whole body looking for that very long and important list. Finding nothing in the end, yours hand start to clench as your breathing became more unstable. “Shit, Shit, SHIT! This can not be happening to me right!” Your whole body at this point starts to shake, when you feel warm hands on your shoulders and a calming voice guiding you down.

“Hey there, look at me alright, and breath with me. You need to breath, miss…. That’s it… slow and steady… good job.”

Your breathing starts to calm down as you listen to the voice. Shoulders still slightly shaking as you feel the same warm hands as before pat your head and began to wipes away tears you didn’t know was falling. You start hiccupping as the man pulls you into his arms, rubbing small soothing circles on your back. Once you calmed down enough to speak, you look at up the man, still being held in his arms.

“Th-thank you for this… I’m sorry for—”

He stops you before you could finish your apology. “Don’t feel like you need to apologize my dear, it’s a man’s duty to always help dries a lady’s tears as well.” His head still petting your hair so sweetly it makes your heart squeeze a bit. Still he was a stranger no matter how handsome he is, so you reluctantly push away from his firm chest and try not to think too much about the look on his face as you did. “It just that I lost the list of all the things I need to get for my group and I’m not sure what to do now…”

The man hummed for a bit, closing his eyes before he said. “Why don’t I help you out with your shopping? Not to brag but I am quite the talented chef so this would be a easy task for me to do.” He grinned down at you. You start to refuse stating that you didn’t want to bother him but he had already grabbed your hand into his and was pulling you towards the marketplace. “Just tell me about who we’re buying for and let me take care of it, ok sweetheart?” Your heart skips so many beats hearing him call you sweetheart, just so casually like it was something that was normal between you two.

You brush aside the nickname and your beating heart to explain some of your teammates tastes and dislike. The more you talk the more comfortable you got, telling him about how each of your teammates have something they actively hate and will not even touch a dish if it has that certain ingredient in it. Throwing your arms in the air as you told the story of how two of them got into a fight over who ate the last of the mangos. He chuckles at the story or at how you were acting, you weren’t so sure but you were enjoying the time spent with him.

He easily explained what was best to get, how to pick the best fruit, cut of meat, and fresh fish, he also showed you how to haggle for the best prices as well. You giggled when he went back and forth with the old fishermen, his hand still held on tightly to yours the whole time. You felt a small squeeze every time the fishermen retorted back saying the price was firm. In the end he did get a couple of free fishes with his order. He was swinging his hand that held yours as he happily carried the numerous amount of bags all in his other arm.

You wanted to share some of the load but he was adamant about carrying it all for you but he denied every moment you asked. His hand was oh so warm and caring, when you reached your building you didn’t want to let go. And it seems like he didn’t either, he just silently drops the bags off and hold steady to you hand before letting go. Your fingers slipping past each other slowly until you were freed, free but cold. You just stayed there in the middle of your doorway, you both don’t even know the other’s name but you feel like there was something that was bubbling just below the surface.

However, before anything could happen the both of you heard a huge explosion come from somewhere in the city. The make the ground beneath shake heavily and your ears ring from the aftershock. You look around frantically to see any signs of enemies or anything that could be dangerous while the man did the same while shielding you. You shake off the same feeling in your chest as you went to Transponder Snail to check in with your team. “I have to go check on my friends! Please stay here and stay safe!” The man yells as he starts to run towards the source of the explosion.

You yelled after him but he was already long gone, the Transponder snail still ringing in your hand. You bite you lips in worry for your teammates and the strange man you gotten close to.

Sanji’s POV:

While he hates to leave a beautiful young lady behind, he can’t help but worry about his friends. So while his legs went on autopilot to his friends his mind wandered back over to the marketplace and to you, how his hand fits so perfectly on your waist, the way your smile seem to set his heart aflame each time you directed at him, it was a different sort of feeling from what he usually get when seeing a pretty lady. It both terrified and excited him at the same time, he thought of what he could do when he needed to leave the island later. Would you accept a vivre card from him a stranger, was that too much? Maybe just giving you his number would be fine… or maybe you could join the crew as his assistant? He need to convince Luffy first but also you but his mind couldn’t help but think of all the scenario of you and him together.

He finally reached source of the smoke and found his friends being attacked by a group of marines. He hurries in to help fight them off.

Second Meeting:

The Transponder snail opened up it eyes and you heard your teammate shout out your name. You responded back right away, asking how was everyone and where they were. You voice came out in rasps as you didn’t know that you were holding your breath this whole time. You slide down to the floor upon hearing that everyone was safe from the blast. Tears falling from all the stress, but you steadied yourself once your teammate asked if you could come help. You stifled some sniffles and told them that you’ll be there soon.

You got into your uniform and ready your weapon by your side as you head to the meeting area, the source of the explosion. ‘Where that kind stranger went to….I hope he’s ok..’ Thoughts like these race in your mind as you dash across the town. You hear the sound of fighting before you could spot anyone. You get out your weapon and hurry to the battle to find… The same stranger.

Your heart stops in your throat, your mind was spinning, and you could barely hear you’re the fight over you, as you eyes set on the man. He looked good, you hate to admit it, as he was going around kicking your teams’ ass, but dam does he look good doing it. You snapped out of it when you got pulled back by your commander as a strange and buff Raccoon dog(?) was barreling your way. You landed with a oof and grunted out a sorry as your commander went back to help the others.

Your mind was still foggy over why he man was helping the pirates and what that meant for the two of you. The two of you?? You only knew him for what? A couple of hours? Why were you thinking so hard on this, it obvious that he’s a pirate and that he needs to go down, just like every other pirate out there. You keep telling yourself that as you head straight towards him with your weapon pointed. “Halt!”

The man stopped in his tracks as he turns to meet you, his eye goes wide but then he immediately smiles wide. “Ma chérié! You’re here!” He stretch his arms out wide, as if he was waiting for a hug. You almost falter in your step as you felt your cheeks warm up. You pretended it was from anger and not anything else as you take a step back and faced your weapon towards him. “Surrounded now Pirate! I won’t ask twice!”

His arms was still out stretched but the smile on his face fell. It seems like he was struggling to say something but then the same Raccoon dog you saw before was crashing towards you again but you managed to step away just in time. “Get away from Sanji!” ‘Sanji… so that’s his name..’

You land on your feet with a hard thud. Growling as you try to swipe at the large creature, almost landing a hit when Sanji stops you with his leg. “Wait! Please let talks this out, my dear, we could work this out.” You pushed away his leg and yelled back. “Talk what out?! You’re a pirate! We have nothing between us!”. As soon as Sanji’s face fell, you regret what you said, heart twisting in your chest. One of your teammate came to stand beside you and take aim at the two, shooting at them while they ran back to their ship. You curse them out as the ship’s sails unfurled and they began to leave. Trying desperately to stop the tears from falling as your heart reach out to him while your mind was yelling at you.

Sanji’s POV:

He just stayed in the kitchen for most of the week after leaving that island. Distracting himself by preparing new dishes, snacks, drinks, anything that occupy his hands and his mind. Usopp and Nami was worried about him and the food storage but Sanji waved them off. He puffed out another smoke from his nth cigarette. Looking at his hand and trying to remember the warmth he felt when yours was holding it. He sighs, putting out his current cigarette and lighting up another one. As his thoughts pulled him back that marketplace and the sound of your laughter rings in his ears.

[blackjackkent]

The usual three prompts :)

Karlach - Sunflower

Jaheira - Sweet Pea

Isobel - Dandelion

(Flower prompts meme)

Finally responding to this! I ended up picking both the Karlach and Jaheira ones and combining them into one fic, and also making them both about friendship stuff even though I think the prompt definitely intended romantic. And then it grew legs and became an AO3 one-shot instead of a drabble fill. More bang for your buck. XD Really hope you like!

Sunflower - drunken rambling about their adoration Sweet Pea - a tender moment

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We Who Have Faced Gods

Pairing: Karlach & Jaheira, Tav & Jaheira, Karlach/Tav Characters: Karlach, Jaheira, OC Male Tav Rating: G Warnings: Drinking Descriptors: Fluff, humor, drunk silliness, cross-generational friendship, mentorship. Chapter Word Count: 3.0k Chapter Setting: On the road to Baldur's Gate, between Act 2 and Act 3.

Summary: A brief interlude of rest for three heroes on the road to Baldur's Gate, in between one battle and the next.

read on ao3 | send me fic requests!

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“I can't fuckin’ believe it,” Karlach slurs happily. 

Hector grins. “So you've said - a few times now.” 

He gently pries the bottle of ale out of her hand and takes a sip from it himself before setting it aside next to the tree they’re sitting against. Another bottle, already empty, is nestled there in the grass, damp with condensation in the crisp evening air.

The camp’s much-needed celebration at finally escaping the Shadow-Cursed Lands has also turned out to be an excuse to clear their supply packs of the unreasonable quantity of alcohol they’ve accumulated. Karlach has been doing her part in the drainage effort. Hector himself hasn’t had too much; he is, however, very much enjoying listening to her increasingly exuberant ramblings as the night has gone on and the bottles have slowly trended towards empty.

He stretches, draping his arms loosely around her waist as she settles more comfortably into his lap. “But go on. Tell me again.”

“I’m serious. I can’t believe it,” she says earnestly. Her whole face scrunches up with concentration as she tries to focus her eyes on him. “Jaheira. In our camp. That's her tent right over there!” She points unsteadily in a vague direction. “D'you know how many stories I heard about her as a kid? SO many, Hec. Like…” A pause. “So many.”

He chuckles. “Yeah?” He kisses the tip of her nose, then her lips. “I’d love to hear them.”

“She’s so cool. She can turn into a panther,” Karlach says dreamily. “I saw her do it at Last Light. An’ she cut up those winged horrors like they were nothing .”

“A very impressive show,” he agrees, nodding. 

She considers for a moment, her eyebrows knitting. “Bet I’d make a good panther.”

“I'm sure you would.” Picking up one of her hands, he interlaces their fingers, kissing each of her knuckles in turn. “You've already got the claws for it.”

“I should get Jaheira t’ teach me,” Karlach decides. Her gaze drifts out of focus again. “And then we could be panthers together and slash everyone up. And then you'd run up and punch them too. POW POW.” She thumps her fist lightly into the pit of his stomach. “Like that.”

He slumps dramatically against the tree trunk, clutching at his abdomen. “You got me. A wicked strike indeed.”

“Hrrrrrmm.” She clicks her tongue dismissively and gives her head an exaggerated shake. “C’mon now, Soldier. You fought that weird Myrkul bone motherfucker,” she points out. “You can take a gut hit from me, I bet.”

“No doubt,” he agrees. His eyes narrow teasingly. “Only you've seemed rather fond of some parts down there, and I'd hate for you to damage them accidentally.”

“Oh, shit, you're right.” She bursts into a fit of giggles and slumps against his shoulder. “Gotta be careful.” She kisses his neck, under his jaw, up to his ear, and nips gently at his earlobe. This elicits a soft, involuntary noise of eager satisfaction from him, and she snickers, pleased at the reaction. “Better?” 

“Much.” He runs the tips of his fingers down the back of her neck and feels her shiver pleasantly in return. “I love seeing you so happy, you know.”

This seems to give her some pause. “Happy. Yeah.” She fidgets her fingertips at his jaw, pushing against the grain of his beard with an air of deep absorption.

There's silence for a moment, filled with the noise of the living forest around them - so different from the desolation of the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Damp leaves rustle against each other in the slow, warm breeze. Somewhere above them, a hawk screeches a hunting call. 

 “We're gonna kill Gortash, right?” Karlach asks abruptly. 

His lips purse tightly and his smile fades. He remembers the mop-headed bastard in the long coat, standing alongside Ketheric and the Bhaalist in that pit of horrors beneath Moonrise. He remembers the rage in Karlach’s face and how it echoed in his own heart. “Yes,” he answers. “We will.”

She presses her face into his neck. “An’ Jaheira's gonna help us. An’ I can kiss a hot monk any time I want, an’ he promised me nothing bad is ever gonna happen, ever again.”

He blinks, then chuckles, the grim mood easing again. “All true things.”

“Then yeah.” Her voice is muffled and increasingly drowsy, but he can hear the smile in it. “I'm happy.”

He digs his fingers gently into the small of her back to pull her tighter against him. “Good. I am too.” 

It isn’t a lie - he is happy, here at this moment, blanketed in her warmth. But uncertainty lurks very close at hand. They have a plan, a goal - a purpose that will save thousands of lives if they can hold to it. But their enemy is horrifying beyond comprehension, and everyone, even to the daughter of Selune herself, has trusted him to be equal to it.

What if he’s not?

He’s jarred from his thoughts by the soft thump of a footstep, and he looks up to see Jaheira rounding one of the nearby tents. The High Harper also has a bottle of wine in one hand, but her steps are steady and her bearing straight. Only her eyes - softened from their usual sharp glint and peering languorously into the middle distance - betray any sign of inebriation. 

She comes to a halt just shy of tripping over Hector's outstretched legs. Her eyes take a moment to refocus, and she tips her head to one side as she takes in the scene.

“Good evening, Carlisle,” she says with exaggerated gravity, inclining her head at him. 

He tries to straighten up respectfully, although the effect is somewhat marred by Karlach’s weight holding him pinned against the tree trunk. “Good evening, High Harper.” 

Karlach stirs in his arms. “Oh, fuck. Is that Jaheira?” she mumbles, still muffled against him. 

He grins, ruffling her hair gently with his fingers. “Seems so,” he answers.

“Shit.” She makes an uncoordinated (and unsuccessful) effort to lift her head. “Don' tell her I'm drunk…”

Jaheira’s eyes narrow with sudden humor and she crouches at Hector's side. With a deft jerk, she lodges the butt end of the bottle she’s carrying into the dirt next to the others. “Do not worry, Karlach,” she says gravely. “Your secret is quite safe.”

“Good,” Karlach mumbles sleepily. “I want her t’ think I'm cool…” She squirms and grinds her face more firmly into Hector's neck. “And teach me about… panthers…”

Jaheira quirks one eyebrow up and her lips twitch. “I believe she vastly overestimates the number of ‘cool’ people I have traveled with,” she says to Hector, her tone deeply dry. 

Hector grins cautiously. He does not quite have Karlach’s level of hero worship, but it still feels mildly unreal to be sitting here talking with one of the heroes of the Bhaalspawn Crisis, a woman he read of in countless historical texts in the monastery’s library. In person, Jaheira has proved to be remarkably down-to-earth, despite all the lofty tales that speak of her, but Hector’s instinct for deference towards her is hard to shake. “Well, we’re all very pleased you’ve chosen to travel with us,” he tells her earnestly. “And honored.”

“Bah, the honor is mine, Saer Carlisle.” She grins crookedly and raises one shoulder in a half-shrug. “It is an exclusive club, we who have faced down a god and survived. It is so rare that we get new members. I should be thanking you for the company.”

He relaxes a little with a laugh. “I never imagined facing anything like this,” he admits.

Jaheira snorts. She slowly lets herself topple out of her crouched position to sit next to him on the dew-damp ground. “In my experience, a world-ending crisis is not something one plans for. It merely happens, and you are swept along in the rising flood, will you or no.” 

Her eyes flick from his face to Karlach, draped in his arms, and her expression softens slightly. “But you have been equal to it, so far. What we faced in the Shadow-Cursed Lands… not many would have come out of it unscathed.”

Hector drifts his fingertips over Karlach’s back, feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest and the pulses of heat from the infernal engine - and the subtle rough texture of one of the new scars she gained at Moonrise. “Unscathed might be putting it a little strongly,” he murmurs.

“True enough. Let us say… alive,” Jaheira says with a flash of gallows humor. “An accomplishment that should never be taken for granted.” A pause. “I am proud of both of you - of all of you. And proud to face whatever lies ahead at your side.”

Karlach’s head has become heavier on his shoulder and her breathing, against his ear, has settled into a steady rhythm, but at these words, she looks up suddenly. Her eyes are at half-mast and her nose rubs against Hector’s throat. 

“Soldier?” she mumbles.

“Yes, love?”

“Jaheira just say she’s proud of us?”

Hector smiles and presses a kiss against her hairline. “She did.”

She gives him a bleary smile. “I think I’m dreaming,” she murmurs. “But it’s a nice dream, so don’t wake me up, m’kay?”

He rubs his fingers gently at the base of her neck. “You have my word.”

She makes an inarticulate, happy sound and buries her face back into his chest. 

Jaheira chuckles. “Perhaps I am not so sorry as I thought that the bards have made so much of me,” she says lightly. “One could get used to such adoration.” She draws a long inhale through her nose, savoring the scent of the forest around them, and then exhales it in a heavy sigh. “You should get some rest, cub,” she adds gently. “We’ve a long walk in the morning, and many more to follow.”

Hector lifts an eyebrow at her. “I could say the same of you.”

She laughs. It's a sharp, almost barking sound - a trifle bitter, but not without humor. “It has been many, many years since I last slept a full night, Carlisle. I think tonight will be no different. But there may yet be hope for you.”

He shrugs - carefully, trying not to jostle Karlach's head. “Perhaps. But…” He smiles sheepishly. “I need to bring this one along with me, and I don’t think she’s much in the mood to move at present.”

“Mm. I will help you move her, then. You have both earned a better bed than the cold forest ground.” Jaheira glances at the two bottles sitting side by side against the tree trunk, and snorts softly. “She has told me something of her story. I suppose a decade in the Hells must lend one a certain tolerance for the weak drinks of the material plane. All the same, I have seen stronger warriors than her felled by the combination of Balor ale and fireswill. I am impressed that she is still conscious.”

He frowns. “It’s a special occasion,” he says with a shrug. “We all needed to let loose a little, I think.”

She grins. “Oh, do not mistake me - I am not judging. Besides, practically the whole camp is passed out. I was surprised to find anyone else awake at all. Well, besides Dame Aylin,” she corrects herself with a low laugh, glancing over her shoulder. “She keeps a vigil in the moonlight and was quite uninterested in the revelry. Perhaps the daughter of a goddess sees little point in the meager wine that mortals brew.”

Involuntarily, Hector looks up, following Jaheira's gaze to see if he can spot the aasimar in prayer. But wherever it is that Aylin is apparently keeping vigil is out of his sight, masked by the tents or the trees or the gentle, moonlit darkness. “I still can't believe it,” he murmurs, slowly starting to squirm out from beneath Karlach's weight. “My Lady's daughter, here in flesh. She laid a hand on my shoulder and said she would follow me.” He pauses and then smiles ruefully. “It's the only thing that could possibly be more astonishing than you saying the same thing.”

Jaheira looks at him curiously for a moment. Then she catches Karlach by the shoulder and helps to lift her up so that Hector can wriggle sideways onto his knees. “For so many years, you have had faith in Selune,” she points out. “And yet you are surprised to receive it in return, in the hour of crisis?” 

Hector grunts and pushes himself to his feet, hooking Karlach's arm over his shoulder. Between them, they lift her onto her feet; she's definitely almost asleep now and mumbles inarticulately at the motion.

“I don't deserve it,” he says quietly, more to himself than to Jaheira. 

Jaheira smiles faintly, bracing herself to help hold up Karlach's considerable weight. “A thing worth knowing, Carlisle, if you are on a path of which songs will be sung,” she answers, “is that you no longer get to choose what you deserve. Least of all the faith that is put in you.”

Hector doesn't answer directly at first. “Come on, love,” he tells Karlach gently. “Let's get back to the tent.”

“Tired…” Karlach mumbles. 

“I know. I’ve got you…” He drapes one hand around her waist to keep her upright, and they take a few awkward steps forward. On Karlach's other side, Jaheira moves easily, adjusting to the rhythm of their movement to help support her. 

They're almost to Karlach's tent before Hector finally speaks again, and it’s so low Jaheira probably has to strain to hear it. “I don’t want to let you down,” he mutters. “Any of you.”

To his surprise, Jaheira laughs softly. “Hector,” she says, “you still have the bone dust of the god of death on your fists. What right would I have to feel you have failed me?”

He crouches at the flap of the tent, lowering Karlach carefully. “Myrkul was one thing,” he says. “But there is so much that lies ahead. We face an elder brain. And those two other Chosen, the Bhaalist and Gortash…”

Karlach squirms suddenly, her eyes opening halfway. The sudden movement overbalances Hector and he falls sideways, hitting the ground next to the bedroll with a grunt, Karlach half on top of him. “I’ll kill ‘im,” she growls unsteadily, struggling to right herself, one hand planted in the middle of Hector’s chest. “Gortash… that fuckin’...”

“Shhhhh…” Jaheira leans forward and presses her palm gently to Karlach’s shoulder. “Not now. Rest. You are no use to anyone if you do not sleep.” 

Karlach blinks blearily, and then lets the pressure of Jaheira’s hand guide her backwards, until she sprawls out onto the bedroll, her head lolling into the pillow. Her gaze drifts out of focus, and then her eyes fall closed. “‘Kay,” she whispers, the burst of energy fading as quickly as it came. “G’night…”

To Hector’s intense surprise, Jaheira doesn’t draw back immediately. Instead, she settles her weight down on her knees next to the bedroll and simply looks at Karlach in silence for a little while. Then she reaches out and brushes a stray bit of hair off the younger woman’s forehead, with a gentleness Hector has never seen from her before.

“Rest, Karlach,” she murmurs. “There will be many battles to fight in the morning… but none of them call you tonight. Rest and breathe nature's clean air. Let it bring you peace while there is peace to be had.”

Hector listens in silence. It is hard to imagine Jaheira singing a lullaby, and yet there is something of that cadence in her words - and something like a prayer, too, gentle and meditative. As she looks at Karlach's half-sleeping form, her thoughts seem for a moment to be far away. Something of the brittle, sardonic mask has slipped, just for a moment, and he can see age and weariness and regret through the cracks. 

The remaining tension in Karlach's body fades and she sags, her head slumping against Jaheira’s fingers. “Where's Hector?” she mumbles, just barely audible. 

Jaheira smiles. “He is here. I do not think he would leave your side if I tried to drag him away.” She turns, rests a hand gently on Hector's arm for a moment, then draws back and out of the tent, looking back at him sitting in the opened flap. 

“I will not tell you, Carlisle, that all will be well,” she says quietly. “Nor do I think you would believe me if I did. But it is well for tonight. And tomorrow… we will meet what comes. I am not mistaken in you, nor is Aylin; of that you may be certain.”

He feels a sudden tight lump in his throat, and for a moment he can't quite speak. “Thank you,” he finally murmurs. 

“And take care of each other,” she adds gruffly, jerking her head to indicate Karlach. “The road is hard, but to travel with someone you love is a gift. Treasure it.”

“I do,” he answers, following her gaze back to the woman he loves. Karlach is certainly asleep now, facedown on the bedroll. Her shoulders rise and fall in a steady rhythm, lacking the tension and twitching energy of her waking hours. “Every moment.”

She nods slowly, and for a moment seems to look through him, back towards some memory long out of her grasp. “Then you are doing all I can ask of you,” she says softly. 

Suddenly the moment breaks. Her head snaps back and her gaze hoods over with wry humor again. “Now, ye gods, lie down and rest yourself as well, boy. We are free of the shadows at last; I can breathe again and I mean to enjoy it. It would be a poor ending to my night to have to knock you out.” She laughs sharply and gives him a gentle nudge with her boot to push him fully back inside the tent. Then, without waiting for a response, she turns and walks away, disappearing like a shadow back towards the warm dark of the forest.

read on ao3

[cakesmelons]

not a ship request but ink stacking as many random household items but doing so in a concerningly physics-defying manner, whilst fresh ink cheers him on, and error is having an existential crisis lol

also i am so mad it took me so long to find your blog your art is awesome ad i hope youre having a fantaulously bedazzled day <3

So.... I MAY have gone overkill on this one. but it's funny. and I may have strayed a BIT from the prompt.

I also tried to add as many references to things as I could in the stack of... whatever from Ink's house.

OH AND TY SM FOR THE KIND WORDS <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Platonic tadc cast with a child reader Who is like :

"hey, wanna see me do a cartwheel :D"

Basically very spontaneous and chaotic in the adventures lol

Ty!! (and remember to drink water) ;3

TADC cast x chaotic!kid!reader ! (Platonic)

Guys I'm literally so tired I just got done baking a ton of stuff, like I'm talking 12ish hours of non stop cooking and baking I'm going insane im trying so hard not to fall asleep rn because I kinda. Feel bad for not really answering requests today

Anywahs

Hope you enjoy anon!

Written on mobile

CAINE:

Well well how the turn tables (writing caines portion last for once)

Very similar to kinger and ragatha in that he supports everything you do; in fact he encourages your behavior as long as no one is getting hurt. Very loudly (and sometimes obnoxiously) cheers for you

While kinger can only cheer and clap, I think Caine sets off sparkles and fireworks... probably has a whole group of bubbles cheering you on too , assuming there can be multiple bubbles at any given time (I personally think there can be, and they all share a hivemind of sorts)

So what was the occasion that prompted that?

A wonky cartwheel, of which you excited called "a sideways front flip"

(Fun fact from the admin, I called my first cartwheel that bc I didnt know it was called a cartwheel yet)

POMNI:

Anxious parental figure and hyper child, a dynamic that's hit or miss at least for me. Really it depends on how its executed

That said I think she struggles to keep up with you

Constantly scrambling around you make sure you dont fall into any danger. Literally and figuratively...

Her attempts to get you to sit down for more than five minutes fail

Your ass is failing the marshmallow test/j

RAGATHA:

No thoughts only that one clip from adventure time where BMO pretends to be a wheathervane before trying to nose dive off the roof, all while calling for finns attention. Thats you and ragatha, basically (in essence, not exact scenario though)... maybe zooble too, but we'll get there when we get there (I am currently having a brain blast)

Says things like "what am I gonna do with you" everyday, always lightheartedly of course and usually accompanied by a tired chuckle

Generally very supportive of you though, just so long as you're not hurting yourself! Sure, this is the digital world and injuries dont really stick, but still! The pain is still there

JAX:

I mentioned the marshmallow test in pomnis part and I feel like jax would do something similar with you. Except the test is rigged and the candy (which he uses in place of the marshmallow( is actually for him and not for you. So if you actually earn the extra candy you dont even get it

That said I do think jax would feel bad when you get upset about the joke

Anyways

I think he finds it funny, as long as you're not tugging on his overalls and screaming at him for something, or interfering with his plans

Hes not a neglectful rolemodel/familial figure, he just has a short fuse with the above I think, regardless of who it is, kid or not

That said he fully embraces your spontaneous nature

KINGER:

Peepaw and his grandchild, that's it that's literally the dynamic

"Kinger is only 48-"

Hush♡

"Oh that's so lovely, (reader)" when you run up to him with your hands full of god knows what

Eagerly claps and cheers when you show him a new trick you learned

Bonus if you try to recreate or one up his embellished stories in order to make him proud of you (hes always proud of you)

ZOOBLE:

As mentioned in ragathas part, the wheathervane BMO thing is basically in essence you guys' dynamic. Except where I think ragatha would be quicker to pay attention to you, zooble may be a little slower. Not because they dont care about whatever you're trying to display to them, but because I think a lot of the times they kind of mentally check out (me too honestly)

Tries to scold you if you do something too dangerous or out of line, may come across as way angrier or upset than they actually are though thanks to their voice being kinda

You know

Zooble gives off "cool older sibling who doesnt care about nothing" energy

GANGLE:

Meekly tries to get you to calm down for a few minutes, especially if theres an IHA going on because she doesnt want you to run off and potentially get hurt. Tries to keep you occupied with arts and crafts. Watches in horror as you impulsively eat the glue

Tends to wrap one of her ribbon hands around yours so she knows you're not running off.. this is more so when theres an IHA going on

As per usual not many ideas for gangle <\3

[mak-be-ghouled]

mountain and aether meeting for the first time and then them saying goodbye when aether retires-

xoxo, your now angst dealer, clown anon <3

Oh, beloved angst dealer, clown anon, what a wonderfully painful prompt 

I hope you enjoy this 2.6k Mountain/ Aether fluff with a dash of angst at the end <3

Everyone knows how close Dewdrop and Aether are, they have the matching mating marks to prove it, but far too many overlook the bond the quint ghoul shares with one particular earth ghoul.

Mountain and Aether were summoned alongside each other, emerging topside on opposite sides of the same pit, the first time the ministry ever attempted asking such a thing from the prince below. To summon a ghoul was among the most strenuous of asks, and now, to summon two? But the ministry was becoming desperate, Terzo was becoming desperate. He’d managed to summon a new water ghoul after Mist announced their untimely retirement, Dewdrop was his name, and he already seemed promising. But he was still left without a drummer and a rhythm guitarist, Ivy retiring shortly after Mist and Delta being determined “unable to continue touring” after an experimental element transition, tensions only rose as the pressures of tour crept on steadily. And so, the gods below must have heard the desperation in Terzo’s voice, smiling upon him and sent two of the most precious ghouls the pits could offer.  

The bond between a newly summoned ghoul and the first creature, be it human or ghoul, they encounter topside is something truly indescribable, though often it may appear to mimic a newly hatched duckling imprinting on its mother. Ghouls brought topside are understandably wary of everything around them, all so new and unknown. The ministry learned of this curious behavior found in newly summoned ghouls and found that including the ghouls that would eventually become their pack greatly improved the socialization of the newly summoned ghoul. The new ghoul would imprint on one of the ghouls that had been topside, giving them a mentor of sorts. 

This of course was not what happened in the case of Aether and Mountain. Crawling from the opposite sides of the same summoning pit, the ghouls had no choice but to lock eyes with one another before seeing anything else, not that they wouldn't have been drawn to each other had the situation happed differently. There was something so captivating about Mountain, and something as equally as intriguing about Aether. 

The summoning portal closed and along with it the outside world melted away. All that existed now was Mountain and Aether. In any other circumstance either one of them would've found danger in the other. Face to face with a ghoul they’d never met, a ghoul of that stature would've posed a threat in the pits. And yet not once did were they overtaken with the instinct to protect, or at least to protect themself from the other. No, looking at each other now, they were filled with a sense of ease, contentment and safety that was entirely unfamiliar for them in the pits. 

It was not until blankets were draped over their shoulders that they pulled their eye from one another. Taking in the room around them, the people, the ghouls, their pack, but like a magnet, their eyes found each other in an instant. 

So, Dew and Aether may have the mating marks, tying them together for eternity, but Mountain and Aether will forever share a bond just as strong, just as permanent. 

Falling into bed together any time they get the chance. They're both busy ghouls when not touring, Mountain tending to the gardens and Aether in the Infirmary. It's necessary work, work they both adore, but being on opposite sides of the Abbey, lucky if they run into each other on a lunch break, they spend more time missing each other than they do together. 

Touring makes up for that lost time in a way, the entire pack forced into such tight quarters, they're together more than ever on tour, bone tired and drained, but together. Stuffing two ghouls, neither of which have ever fit comfortably into the tour bus bunk beds alone, into the same bunk just so they can be close, can hold each other, can spend time together, and yet those nights were filled with the most restful sleep either of them had gotten in far too long. Trading hotel key cards just to share a bed for the night.  

They took care of each other, the whole pack really, and the pack took care of them. But there was something special in the way Mountain and Aether took care of each other, something irreplaceable, something necessary, something uniquely theirs. Aether was able to read Mountain better than Mountain was able to read himself most of the time, knew his tells. Aether noticed the way Mountain’s posture became impossibly rigid when he tweaked his back during a show or slept wrong again. He noticed when Mountain began favoring one leg over the other after hours on his feet. He noticed Mountain grabbing his wrists more often, rolling them in circles after hours of playing. Most of the time Mountain didn't even notice himself doing these things, so used to a sore back, weak legs and aching wrists, but Aether did. Aether always noticed. And Aether was always so eager to help. 

Today was their first real day off in weeks, the days they’d spent not performing being travel days, cooped up in the tiny tour bus, they were getting restless, none of the ghouls had gotten the chance to truly recharge. They needed an off day, and it was finally here. They’d finally gotten to their hotel, their home for the next two days. 

The ghouls piled out of the bus, luggage in hand, coupling off into their rooms. Mountain and Aether had already been paired together, not that they had any shame in swapping cards with anyone, but this meant one less task to complete before they could enjoy their well-deserved break. 

As soon as they had reached their room, Mountain was making a b-line to the shower, he was stiff and sore, and sure, it wasn't his bathtub in the abbey, nor would it be as healing as really reconnecting with his element, but compared to venue locker room showers, a hotel shower sounded like paradise. 

“Bad pain day Sweet Thing?” 

Aether whispers into the back of his neck, wrapping his arms around Mountain's waist. 

“Hmm, just sore, and a hot shower sounded nice” 

Mountain sucks in a sharp breath as his back twinges. 

Aether tightens his grip on Mountain's waist just in time for his knee to give out, protesting the hours of sitting in the bus. 

Mountain rolls his wrist in a circle, suddenly aware of the strain it's been under as he leans against the vanity. 

Sometimes Aether really does know Mountain better than he knows himself. 

“fuck” Mountain lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding 

“Yeah, maybe a little” Mountain chuffs. 

“I'm sorry baby. Let me help?” Aether hums, turning Mountain around to look at him. 

“Would you Astra? Mountain mumbles in Aether’s shoulder. 

“Wouldn't offer if I wasn't already planning on it now, would I Sweet Thing? 

Aether helps Mountain out of his clothes and into the, rather small shower, not that they haven't done more with less.  

Aether grabs Mountain’s toiletry bag off the counter, quickly stripping himself of his own travel clothes and slides in behind Mountain.  

“Gonna wash your hair sweet thing, you need to sit down or can you look up for me?” 

Aether asks after a long moment 

Mountain looks up as far as his aching back will allow 

“Can stand, just no quint right now, that'll take me down” 

“Sounds good sweet thing” Aether chuckles 

They finish with their shower, Aether insisting on helping Mountain into a pair of boxers, grabbing himself a pair as well and leads the swaying earth ghoul to their bed.  

Instead of walking to the other side of the bed to lie down, Aether reaches over Mountain placing his hand on the bed and throws himself over Mountain. He does in in the name of efficiency, but if it makes a pretty blush bloom across Mountain’s face who is he to call him out? 

Aether gets comfortable, reaching out to Mountain, signaling him to join. Mountain lays his head against Aether's heart and puts his hand on Aether's stomach just before another sharp pain shoots through his whole body. 

“Want some quint now sweet thing?” Aether asks as he holds Mountain closer, wishing he could take all that pain away for good. 

“Yeah, please” Mountain breathes out. 

“I’ve got you Mount” Aether assures, and he does. He lets his quintessence slowly flow through him and into Mountain. Gentle and precise, enough to ease the pain without disrupting.  

Mountain’s always been especially responsive to quintessence, a blessing and a curse really. It didn't take much to affect him, something Aether learned early on. Too much quint, or too fast made Mountain nauseous and spacey, he’d come to with a magic hangover, groggy and disoriented. That made Mountain wary of quintessence all together, avoiding it at all cost. But Aether, the ever-attentive ghoul, found just the right amount of quint for Mountain. Something to ease the pain and help him sleep, but not knock him on his ass or make him sick. 

“I love you” Mountain murmurs into Aether's chest as his eyes become too heavy to hold open anymore. 

“I love you too, get some rest sweet thing” 

Nights like these are familiar, as well rehearsed as rituals really, Mountain will wake up in the morning, feeling guilty Aether had to take care of him the night before, embarrassed he couldn't do it himself; Aether had done just as much as him, arguably more, and here he was reaping the benefits of him and his magic, draining any energy he may have had left over.   

And Aether will assure him every time that, no he isn't being forced to take care of Mountain, he does it because he wants to. Because he loves him.  

“I love you so much, let me take care of you this morning Astra?” Mountain says, leaning over kiss Aether's forehead. 

“I suppose that sounds like an alright idea” Aether fake considers, looking up to meet Mountain’s lips with his own.  

They pull away, resting their foreheads against one another. 

“You’re such a dork” Mountain adds, punctuating his statement with a kiss to Aether's nose.  

“We don't have to do anything today sweet thing, get back in bed with me?” Aether asks, pulling out his best puppy dog eyes.  

And who is Mountain to deny such an ask? Especially after Aether spent the entire night taking care of him. 

“’course Aeth” Mountain smiles, crawling back into bed and opening his arms for Aether this time.  

“Stay here as long as you want Astra, or until you get tired of me” Mountain half jokes. 

“Believe me, I will never get tired of you Mount.” Aether hums as he nuzzles into Mountain’s chest. 

Now though?

Now that they were back at the Abbey, their old routine has fallen back into place. Spending their days on opposite ends of the Abbey, opposite ends of the world if you ask them. For the first few weeks they're lucky to see the other awake. 

Aether crawling into bed behind and already sleeping Mountain after another late night in the infirmary, as much as he wants to talk to his love, he knows how much he needs sleep, so instead of waking him, he sends a tiny tendril of quintessence into his brain, gently influencing his dreams, ensuring he will awake feeling rested and eases the ache of stiff muscles and joints. 

Mountain waking up with the sun, greeted by a still sleeping Aether. But as much as he wants to talk to his love, he knows how much he needs sleep, so instead of waking him, he slowly untangles them from each other, places a kiss on Aether’s forehead, and leaves a steaming cup of coffee and small bundle of asters on the bedside table for him to wake up to.  

I love you Astra, wake me up when you get home if I'm asleep, I won't bite ; ) 

Mountain scribbles on a sticky note before heading to the gardens. 

Over time Mountain and Aether get better at prioritizing time for their pack, time or each other, but Mountain finds himself missing the time they spent together on tour more than be thought he ever would.  

Mountain was Aether’s rock on tour, keeping him grounded when everything became too much. He was a safe space to exist without the pressure of conversation or excitement. But in the end, after being back in the Abbey, no longer considered a “new summon” Aether was beginning to realize, maybe he didn't want to go back on tour. He loved his pack more than anything, loved being topside, loved working in the infirmary, loved the fans, loved music, loved Copia, but maybe he just wasn't meant for touring anymore.  

He brought it up to Copia first. Copia was crushed by this, yes, he would miss his quint on tour, but he knew how much the band meant to Aether, he can only imagine how much of a toll touring must've taken on Aether for him to being up for retirement. It wasn't often a ghoul asked for retirement, the ministry had a track record of forcing ghouls into retirement when they felt said ghoul was no longer performing as desired. 

Aether went to Omega next, his mentor, once again following his footsteps in a way, intending to begin full time in the infirmary after band retirement. 

After solidifying his retirement with the higher ups, promising to mentor the new quint just as Omega had done for him, Aether began telling his pack his plans for the next tour cycle. 

Dew and Mountain were the last ones to find out. Aether wanted to tell them at the right time, on their own. He was dreading this more than anything he’d ever done.  

Dew took it about as well as expected, his mate telling him he’d no longer be touring with him. Greif ridden and angry, it took Dew a while to understand. How he could be so angry at a situation while still having so much love for someone. He even considered retiring himself, he couldn't imagine being on tour without Aether, he’d never done that before, he didn't think he could do that. But Dew’s love for touring ran far too deep. Staying with Aether meant no more touring, going on tour didn't mean no more Aether, and so he learned to tour with Aether no longer a bunk away, but now thousands of miles or a phone call away. 

Mountain though? Mountain took the news unmoving. He congratulated Aether through clenched teeth and blurry eyes. He had no reason to fall apart at this. Dew was Aether’s mate, Dew had a reason to kick and cry and scream, he didn't. He was supposed to congratulate Aether, to support him in such a big decision, to be happy for him. 

Everyone was worried about Dew, how Dew would take the news, and for good reason, Aether and Dew were mates, but Mountain and Aether had something just as special.  

Mountain wasn't jealous of Dew, he didn't want to be Dew or wish Aether was his mate instead, he cherished the bond he had with Aether for what it was and always would be. 

Mountain couldn't help but wonder though, had Aether finally become tired of him? 

[celestialwrites]

Hi! May I ask for some jealousy/argument/fighting prompts? ty!

hello<3 (sorry this took so long!)

angst argument, prompts⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

@celestialwrites for more.

☆ you found their letters...

☆ fighting with them was like a screaming match, you would yell at each other until you could barely speak.

☆ coming home you expected flowers, not them in your room.

☆ they betrayed the one thing you truly cherished. your trust.

☆ you pulled, they pushed, it would never work.

☆ their actions were clearer than words, they didn’t want you.

☆ fucked up. that’s what it was, fucked up, and you didn’t have the strength to in-fuck it. you were just so tired.

☆ they locked the bedroom door and didn’t come out until they had their packed bag.

☆ tears are no good, why waste them when they were never truly worth it? or were they?

☆ loving you was a losing game.

☆ you wanted to fight for each other, they wouldn’t.

☆ at the end of the day, it’s your fault. as you sunk to the cold floor of the bathroom you began to realize that.

☆ you didn’t need kisses or to make up what had been destroyed, you needed a hug.

☆ you could smell the perfume/cologne on them and you stilled in shock.

☆ you were so sick of the fights and the jealousy.

☆ they were in love with a version of you that no longer existed, if only they could see that.

requests are open!