#my fingers are numb from the ac

[demonblush]

i am soooo sorry i haven’t posted! and it’s very likely i won’t be able to finish the rest of doodle tober,, i hope u can find it in ur hearts to understand! this month has been very busy and hectic and just raaaggh. u know. here is the last inking i did before i withered into a fine dust. thank u for sticking around!

[chuulyssa]

a/n: idk what this is, just me trying to numb the pain of ace's death. this is based loosely on the hc that reader and luffy got "married" when they were seven. it's not a full-fledged fanfic tho, just a drabble. i'll post later, i'm just trying to get used to writing post-war arc atm

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — luffy is very shaken up after the events of marineford. you must help him, as his 'wife'

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — luffy x reader ft. law, jinbei and simp!boa

"How long are you going to keep visiting him?" The voice of Jinbei woke you from your trance. You had once again snuck into the room Luffy was kept in despite constant warnings from Law and your own injuries.

You turned to find Jinbei standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a concerned expression on his face. His large frame seemed to fill the space, weary eyes trailing down your wounds.

"As long as it takes," you said simply.

Jinbei stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "You also need to take care of yourself. You can't pour from an empty cup, you know."

You glanced back at Luffy, who lay there, still unconscious. The monitor next to him was beeping steadily, albeit a little roughly. He was covered in bandages from head to toe, and his eyes were shut and eyebrows knitted together as if he was dealing with a terrible nightmare. But then again, the past few hours had been nothing but nightmares, and the hours before that even more so. Luffy had been suffering ever since he stepped foot in Sabaody, and it showed in his current state.

"This is the least I can do," you looked down at your hands, then back at Luffy's face. Your fingers reached out to brush the stray strands of his hair away from his face involuntarily, and you adjusted your position on the bed. He always liked to cuddle with you.

"And what of your own injuries?" Jinbei asked gently. "What if you push yourself too hard?"

"If my Captain is fine, so am I," you insisted. "More than that," you lay your head next to his, your feet reaching out to his to rub together with them softly, "I don't want him to wake up alone. Not after... well, you get it."

Jinbei sighed, shaking his head slightly, but there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "Luffy-kun wouldn't want you to sacrifice your well-being for him."

"I'll come out in some time. Let me be here for now, for my own sake."

Jinbei nodded, opening the door for himself. "Very well, then."

The beeping of the monitor grounded you to the bed. Luffy needed you. You couldn't abandon him then, not when he was trapped in the darkness of his own mind.

After some time had passed, you finally decided to step outside the room. You spotted Law sitting near the forest outside of the ship. There was a sort of distant look in his eyes. He seemed lost in his thoughts, but you couldn't see what he was looking at.

"Trafalgar D. Water Law," you approached him slowly, and his gaze shifted towards you. "Can we talk?"

He turned to you, a mixture of surprise and wariness in his expression. "Y/N-ya. You shouldn’t be out here. What if you overexert yourself?"

"I'm completely fine, doctor," you smiled lightly, a gesture he returned, albeit it seemed a bit forced because of the overall tired look he carried on his face. "You didn't answer my question."

"Of course," he replied, gesturing towards an empty place next to him.

You nodded gratefully, sitting down beside him. "Thank you," you said. "What I wanted to ask was, why did you, our rival, risk everything you had to save Luffy?"

Law’s gaze flickered to the sea, contemplating your question. "I thought I made it clear then. I wouldn't want a rival to die so soon."

"What's your motive?" You pressed.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, to say the truth, we're pirates. I assume you can guess why."

Before you could respond, a loud crash echoed from inside the ship, jolting both of you from the moment. Jinbei’s eyes widened, and he was off like a shot, heading back inside.

"A Navy attack?" You muttered, rushing after him, Law following your lead close behind.

As you reached the door to Luffy’s room, you saw debris scattered across the floor, splintered wood and twisted metal. Then, without warning, Luffy shot out of the room like a cannonball, bursting through the remnants of the door frame. He landed hard on the ground beside the deck, breathing heavily, eyes wild with a mix of confusion and rage.

Immediately, the three of you ran out to him. Law had said time and again that the slightest movement might cause his wounds to open up, and he may not survive. But to think that after what he had gone through, Luffy would be able to sit quietly in one place was foolish.

"Y/N!" Luffy’s voice rang out, raw and desperate. He looked around as if the entire world was closing in on him, a battle present only behind the closed doors of his mind. "I need to get out! I can't— stay here!"

But he didn’t seem to see or hear you. His breaths were coming out in frantic bursts. He was in a full-blown panic, eyes darting around as if he was still trapped in the chaos of Marineford. Jinbei and Law quickly approached to stop his antics.

Luffy didn't respond when Jinbei shouted at him. He didn't respond when his arms and feet were tugged at. He didn't respond when the Heart Pirates attempted to drag him back to stop his rampage. With one last look at you, he made his way into the enclosed forest, splitting trees from their roots in a hurry to get away from prying eyes.

The forest echoed with the sound of splintering wood as Luffy rampaged through the trees. Branches cracked and fell as he punched wildly wherever his heart told him to.

"Luffy-kun!" Jinbei called.

But Luffy didn’t hear him. He continued to lash out, tearing roots from the ground as if he could uproot the pain inside him. You stood at the edge of the chaos, heart racing as you watched your captain spiral further into darkness. "Luffy," you said quietly, voice and sound numbed from the tears that clouded your vision. "That's enough."

Luffy paused, muscles tense and trembling, before his eyes finally locked onto Jinbei’s. "Is it true?" his voice broke. "Did Ace really die?"

Jinbei nodded slowly and sorrowfully. "Yes, Ace is dead."

The world around you seemed to freeze as the realization hit Luffy like a tidal wave. His face contorted with agony, and a heart-wrenching cry burst forth from his lips. "ACE!" The sound reverberated through the trees like a haunting echo.

His frantic energy seemed to dissipate, and he turned to you. His cheeks were wet with all the tears he shed, and his eyes were glistening with more. He stumbled toward you, collapsing to his knees before you.

Without hesitation, he engulfed you in a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. The world around you faded away as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could. "I can't lose you too!" he sobbed, voice muffled against your skin. "Not like Ace!"

You shook your head. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Ace said the same thing!" He buried his face into your chest and began crying once more, and you only tightened your hold on him. You kissed the top of his head, and his frantic movements seemed to rest.

Sometime later, the Heart Pirates left with the arrival of Rayleigh, and Jinbei engaged in a conversation with the latter. But then the air shifted again, this time charged with a different kind of energy. Boa Hancock emerged, striding into the clearing with a confidence that instantly commanded attention. Her long hair flowed behind her like a dark cloud, and a massive spread of food was arranged delicately in a large cart before her.

"I have returned with food for you, my h-hus-husband," she stuttered when she made eye contact with Luffy, and an old woman beside her sighed in apparent defeat.

"You can't even make eye contact with him, and you call him your husband," she said, to which Hancock simply glared.

You raised an eyebrow at Luffy. "I didn't realize you married her. Is this the second wife then?"

"Second... wife?" Hancock's knees seemed to give out, and with a hand on her chest, she landed on the ground, seemingly in agony.

"I feel bad for you," you said teasingly.

Hancock shot you a glare, but it lacked the venom you expected. "This is no joke! Luffy needs to eat!" Her tone was sharp, though her focus remained solely on Luffy.

Jinbei chuckled from where he stood, his hands raised defensively as he caught sight of the feast Hancock had brought. "There's no need to scold me for eating. I'm merely replenishing my strength."

"Just a little! You always eat too much!" Hancock scolded, quickly handing him a single piece of fruit, then ignoring you entirely as she focused her attention back on Luffy.

"You should eat, Luffy," Jinbei said loudly, glancing at Hancock. "Eating is living!"

Luffy placed a shaking hand on a piece of meat, then began to put it in his mouth, when, suddenly, he stopped, and glanced at you with concern.

"Why aren't you eating, Y/n?" He asked.

Before you could respond, Hancock seemed to relent, her eyes darting between the two of you. "Fine! You, over there," she pointed at you with her face in the sky, as if looking down at you. "You can have a bite. Just one, though!”

Luffy grinned widely, grabbed the piece of meat from Hancock's collection and turned to you. He shoved the food into your mouth, laughing as he watched your eyes widen in shock. "Eat up! You need to get better!"

Hancock's expression turned to one of horror as she realized what was happening. "No! Luffy, don't—" she started, but it was too late.

You swallowed quickly, glancing at Hancock, who looked torn between irritation and disbelief. Luffy simply beamed. "My first bite goes to you! I can't let you starve." He took another piece and offered it to you.

With a chuckle, you took a bite from his hand. Hancock sighed, her annoyance softening only when she saw how much Luffy seemed to enjoy this moment. "Don't get too used to it, you. I'll be the one taking care of him."

You smiled at her, and her irritation seemed to peak. Glancing at Luffy, who was still intent on feeding you, you said to her, "I think he has already made his choice clear."

[froggiewrites]

Did I Say That Out Loud?

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You and Ace get lost in a snowstorm. While Ace is fine in the cold, you need warming up, and he's willing to help. Warnings: Fluff, Huddling for Warmth, Accidental Confession Word Count: 1.2k Notes: This is a short thing I wrote to break myself out of a funk I got into with a different, longer piece. I just had to write about Ace huddling for warmth, he's perfect for it! Crossposted from Ao3

There are few things you can rely on in the Grand Line. There’s danger around every corner, both from the environment and the pirates filling every inch of it. There’s few people you trust, and fewer who deserve it. But up until now, you would have said you trusted Portgas D. Ace with every fiber of your being.

And then he got you lost.

“I could have sworn it was around here.” You have no idea where here even is, your vision filled with nothing but white as the snow continues to fall. You’d always trusted his directions, knowing his survival skills were finely honed from his childhood, but you’re suddenly reminded he grew up in a jungle nothing at all like the snow capped peaks of the mountain you’re currently stuck on. He’s scratching his head, checking a map that looks absolutely nothing like the terrain around you.

“Ace.” You try to keep the anger out of your voice, but with the way his shoulders tense you can see you failed. “Do you have any idea where we are right now?”

“Um.” He looks back at you, puppy dog eyes wide and asking for forgiveness. “We’re on the mountain?”

“Oh my god.” You put your head in your hands, which are rapidly losing feeling from the cold. Your gloves are not thick enough for the temperature right now, the gentle snow from when you docked slowly growing closer and closer to a blizzard. “We’re gonna die.”

“We’re not gonna die.” You feel a warm hand on your head, grounding you and pulling you from the panicking bubbling in your chest. “We brought food and water, we’re gonna find shelter, and we’ll wait out the storm. It shouldn’t last long.”

“How do you know that?” You peek up at him through your lashes, and see nothing but his smile, soft and reassuring.

“A storm like this shouldn’t last longer than a day at most.” He sees the panic on your face again, and he continues. “I know a day sounds like a long time, but we have enough supplies for at least a few, if we ration, and we passed a cave on the way here that seemed pretty protected from the elements. We’ll really be fine, I promise.” He gives you that boyish smile that makes his face light up like the sun, the one that always makes your heart race.

You nod at him tiredly. The hand on your head shifts to fall around your shoulders easily and effortlessly, and he pulls you under his arm for a quick side hug. You expect him to pull back, but you see his brows furrow as he pulls you closer. “You’re freezing.” His free hand grabs one of yours and he hisses slightly at the feeling of your ice cold fingers. “Oh god, you’re really freezing. Let’s hurry.” His hands warm further, the heat seeping through your thin gloves and inadequate coat, and he begins to pull you forward in the snow.

You find the cave relatively quickly, thankfully, and Ace quickly makes a small fire for you two. He looks especially beautiful in firelight, like he was born for it. You don’t often get to admire him like that, usually only seeing him bathed in flame in battle, but in this peaceful moment you finally get to take your time memorizing his face in the gentle orange light. His freckles look particularly charming like this, and you suddenly have the urge to kiss them.

The cold must be getting to you. Another shiver racks your body, and you realize that it really is, your lips feeling numb and the cold floor beneath you doing nothing to help the situation. You wonder how long it would take for someone to die of exposure. 

“You alright over there?” He gives an easy smile, but you can see the tension behind it. He’s genuinely concerned.

“I’ve been better.” You struggle to speak over the chattering of your teeth. He seems entirely unbothered by the cold, of course, with his powers, though he’s still wearing a thick black coat just for the sake of it. His face is painted with concern as he approaches you, nose scrunched adorably in thought, but you see his eyes light up with an idea. He reaches you, settling close, before he begins unbuttoning his coat and revealing his bare torso.

“Ah–um–Ace?” He slips his coat off, and you’re torn between admiring his physique and worrying about him catching a cold, no matter how impossible you know that is. He doesn’t acknowledge your confusion and concern, instead wrapping his coat tightly around you, engulfing you in his scent.

“Are you still cold?” He leans closer, and you can barely focus on his words over the smoky scent of his coat.

“Um, a little?” It comes out as a question.

“Hm.” He puffs out his cheeks a little in displeasure. “Well. I have one more idea.” Without any warning, he abruptly pulls you into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around you as your frantically adjust to keep your head from pressing directly between his pecs. You end up with your thighs on either side of his hips, your hands on his chest, your noses brushing together.

“Is that any better?” He’s staring intently into your eyes as he asks. You can feel his breath on your face, feel his heartbeat beneath your hands, see every freckle painted across his face.

God, what I wouldn’t give for you to kiss me right now.

“What?”

Oh.

Oh no.

“I–” You try to push away in panic, but his arms keep you in place.

“Do you mean that?” His breath is against your lips, so hot compared to the chill around you.

You want to tell him no, to insist he misheard you, salvage some of your dignity, but then you register the intensity of his eyes as something you weren’t expecting: hope.

“Yes.”

His lips crash against yours as he pulls you impossibly closer, the heat radiating off of him seeping into you down to your very bones. His strong hands come to rest on your hips, and your hands wander up to tangle in his raven hair. You can hardly feel the icy cold anymore, can hardly feel anything but Ace pressed against you and his soft lips on yours. He nips lightly at your bottom lip, and you easily part to allow his tongue to explore.

His hands begin to wander up your back, under your shirt, and you feel your skin heat beneath his touch. You can’t tell if he’s using his devil fruit or if it’s simply the chemistry between you, but either way you feel warm and safe. You’d stay like this forever if you could.

Eventually you’re forced to part for air, panting, and he gives you a cheeky smile. “Are you warmer now?”

“Hmm…” You trace your fingers down his chest, trying not to grin too widely when he shivers. “I think I’m still a bit chilly, actually.”

“Want some help with that?” He’s smiling so wide the edges of his eyes are crinking with joy.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

His lips meet yours once again, and you completely forget about the storm raging outside.

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 1

SUMMARY: Jake is stuck at base for a mind-numbing training session, while you’re home enjoying a much-needed day off. Bored and missing him, you decide to have a little fun by slipping into his favorite lacy lingerie and sending him a few teasing photos. What starts as playful fun turns into a tantalizing game of anticipation as Jake struggles to focus on anything other than getting home to you—and making you pay for being such a tease.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm a little late getting this one posted. Work and life got the best of me today! But here is Day 1 of the Kinktober prompts!

PROMPT: "Damn, you're such a tease."

KINK: Sexting/Sending NSFW Pictures.

WARNINGS: Sexting/Sending NSFW Pictures.

WORD COUNT: 562

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It was one of those rare days off, the kind where you could lounge around the apartment, free from any obligations or stress. You had the place to yourself, and although it was peaceful, something was missing: Jake.

Jake was stuck at base, caught up in yet another training session. You could practically hear his groans when he left this morning, muttering about how he could fly his aircraft blindfolded and still ace this review. You’d been texting back and forth with him all morning, and from the sound of it, he was bored out of his mind.

You’d been missing him too—his presence, his touch, the playful banter you shared. And then an idea popped into your head. You glanced toward your dresser, your lips curling into a mischievous smile as you remembered Jake's favorite lacy lingerie set tucked inside.

A little fun wouldn’t hurt, right?

Grinning, you slipped into the soft, delicate fabric, adjusting the lace until it fit perfectly against your skin. The deep, sultry red contrasted beautifully with your complexion, and you couldn’t help but admire the way it hugged your curves. You knew this set drove Jake crazy—he’d told you so more than once.

You grabbed your phone and posed in front of the mirror, snapping a few playful shots. One with you standing straight, one where you tugged the hem of the lace teasingly, and one of you sitting on the edge of the bed, just enough skin showing to keep it innocent… yet tempting.

With a smirk, you sent the first picture to Jake, captioning it with a simple, “Miss you.”

You barely had to wait a minute before your phone buzzed. Jake’s name lit up the screen, and you opened the message to see his reply: “Damn, you’re such a tease.”

You giggled, feeling a rush of satisfaction. It was good to know you could get to him, even when he was stuck in a stuffy classroom. But you weren’t done yet.

Biting your lip, you snapped another picture—this time lying on the bed, your body half-covered by the sheets. The lacy set peeked out just enough to leave plenty to the imagination, but still give Jake something to think about.

“Thought you could use a distraction. How’s that training going?” you typed, hitting send.

His response came back almost instantly: “Training? What training? All I’m thinking about now is how fast I can get home.”

You could practically picture him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on anything but the images you’d sent.

Feeling playful, you teased him again. “Aw, don’t you still have a few hours left? Guess you’ll just have to be patient.”

Another message buzzed in: “You’re killing me, sweetheart. Wait ‘til I get home. We’ll see who’s teasing who.”

You felt a warm shiver run down your spine at his words, knowing full well what was waiting for you once Jake finally got back. But for now, you enjoyed the thought of him struggling through his training session, knowing you had him wrapped around your finger.

Leaning back against the pillows, you smiled to yourself, imagining how this little game would play out once Jake was home. His frustration would build throughout the day, and by the time he walked through that door, he’d be ready to turn the tables on you in the best possible way.

[daddyhausen]

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ 「 PENTAGRAMS IN THE NIGHT SKY 」 ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 BAND/MUSICIAN MASTERLIST 」 | 「 VESSEL MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 SUMMARY 」 — he waits in the shadows for your nightmares to paralyse you, to claim you body and soul all for himself.

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+ [ MINORS DNI ] smut, somnophilia, dubcon, cnc, dom!vessel, sleep paralysis, demon!vessel, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, breeding kink, oral sex [ female receiving ] nipple play, biting, blood, fingering, multiple orgasms, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting, vaginal creampie

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 3k

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x vessel

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @bayleymania @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @ripleyswife @selena-tyler-564 @auburnwriter @alyyaanna @nightmare-viper

「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

you could feel it, the burn, flames sticking to your skin, melting the flesh and surfacing the bone underneath. the ache, the red of the fire, how it burned angry, vengeful against your fragile, weakened body. in between the flamed streaks laid the remains of what you’d once called a home, only mere smoke and ash now, and in there laid your burning body, trapped underneath rubble, blackened with soot. you could see yourself, outside of yourself as a third person looking in, a most ungodly sight to behold. and the wisps and crackles of the flames did nothing to quell or soothe your panic, only heighten the vicious sight before you.

your eyes shot open in a daze, a shaky gasp parting from chapped, dry lips. trying so desperately to quiet your mind, remove the nightmare from your thoughts, your skin still heated but was not burned, flesh and bone still intact. you let out a small sigh of relief, upon the realisation that you were unharmed, attempting to wipe the sweat that accumulated on your brow, only to find your arm numb, stuck to its position on the bed beside you, no matter how much you jolted and twitched it remained the same. your heart began to race, thumping hard against your chest like the crash of thunder that rang ever so often outside your bedroom window. you were asleep still, you knew that, put something about this predicament seemed far too real even for your standard of dreaming.

the left side of your bed dipped with a foreign weight, a hand came into view. inky jet black fingers met your viewline, palms rough and callouesed, intricate veins flowed like rivers on the back of the palm and up the forearm, pulsing softly as fresh blood flowed through them. it was a strong arm, masculine no doubt. rings adorned the slender fingers of the strange hand, ones of silver that shined against the black obsidian of the skin. you felt them, so gentle as they traced delicate lines across your skin, almost hesitant in their touches, you lay there, numb and unmoving, watching them shake and twitch as a thumb swiped the sweat from your forehead.

“don’t fear little dove, it was only a nightmare”

the voice was deep and coarse, the twinge of a british accent on the end of his words that made your stomach churn with worry. the words rang sinful from his lips, as his hand ran down your cheek, caressing the warm, mortal flesh. a face came into view…more so a masked one. one of pearly white, traced with gold and rubies that of blood red adorned around the maw. slits in his mask covered his eyes, three to be exact on each side, obscuring them from your vision, only the lower half of his face exposed, soft pouty lips outlined a row of sharp teeth, the canines the most prominent. he smiled, showing them off, looking as if he was about to take a bite out of you at any second.

he would notice the subtle twitch in your movements, how your fingers would shudder every few seconds trying to get a better grip on reality, while the remainder of your body laid frozen in place, paralysed by the weight of your own dream, or was this still your nightmare? his hand remained stagnant on your cheek, every few seconds, taking the time to swipe his thumb across the flesh gently, in soothing circles. your eyes welled with tears, in obvious fear, unsure exactly who or why this strange man… or whatever he was, was looming over you so omnipresently, so…domineering.

“now i know you're afraid, little dove, but i can assure you i bring you no harm” he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks

“no no…do not cry…”

you could see his pupils dilate behind the slits of his mask, how the shroud would fall over the top if it, shielding them from your gaze.

“relax little dove. the paralysis is only temporary”

his eyes darkened momentarily, keeping the outstretched hand stagnant on your cheek, his thumb adjusting itself only to wipe away stray tears, an inky streak leaving stains in the corners of your eyes from where his flesh made contact.

yet you could not relax. how could you? your mind was wide awake yet your body frozen in time, and to make it worse, this large domineering…thing… you could hardly call him a man despite his corporeal form being akin to one, practically levitated above you.

he noticed the ink smear across your cheek, a primal sensation grew in his belly, something about it felt so primative, so raw to him, a piece of him left behind on your mortal flesh. he was only supposed to provide comfort in your weakest hour. to comfort your mind when your body could not. yet…he wanted to provide more, relax where your fingers could not reach, soothe with words your tongue could not provide.

“little dove…forgive me…”

his body ever looming over yours, growing closer as he brought himself in. his lips painfully close to yours, tongue teasing your cupid’s bow with the words he spoke.

“but i must..i need to”

his lips fan over yours before meeting. your eyes widen with the sudden contact, flickering wildly, still trying to adjust the the sight of him under the dull moonlight, just the flicker of his mask, a milky pearl in colour, even more so up close, and the reds like garnets and specks of gold leaf reflect in your eyes.

his maw opened, revealing sharp canines that prodded at your bottom lip leaving indentations in their wake as they parted, tasting the cherry and cream of your lip balm with a shudder. despite the interaction, despite your lack of say or movement in the matter, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, the stubble wafts of his breath fluttering against your skin as he pulled away, observing the swollen red petals with lustful adoration. how despite parting, your lips still connected by a thin lips of spit. he hummed at the sight, licking the inky blacked-out curve of his cupid’s bow, savouring the subtle cherry flavour on his tongue.

he shifted his weight. his thighs resting dangerously close to your cunt, nestled against your inner thigh. despite your warmth being shielded by your panties, you could still feel the coolness of his skin, touch featherlight, feeling like light snowflakes against your flesh. you let out a small whimper, it was the only thing you could do in your semi-stasis state. vessel’s ears pricked up at the sound, with a soft hum.

“hmm? you like that my little dove?”

his words like velvet in her ears, drawing out any semblance of rational thought you had left. he left you entranced, enraptured, entwined by the silk ropes of his tongue. he pressed his knee against your clothed cunt, swirling against it slightly. your cunt pooled with warmth, slick with arousal for the strange demon that resided above you.

“oh…so wet already…mmm, didn’t think you’d submit so easy, my sweet”

his voice rumbled deep within his throat, evident by the way his throat contorted with a goan. his cock growing hard behind the confines of his shrouds, the appendage pressing, throbbing against the thin fabric. your stomach swirled with desire in spite of your mind resisting, failing to miserably.

“need to feel your flesh on my tongue…” his fingers raked down from your cheek, a hand shaky in their movements. trailing cautiously down, featherlight touches only separated your skin from his by your shirt. he let the fabric mingle with his skin, savouring the sensation as his palm ghosted across the peak of your breast, feeling the supple mound, groping it, squeezing it, eventually revealing them from beneath the fabric.

“so divine…” he muttered through clenched teeth, trying to stifle a moan as your breasts became revealed before him. your nipples perked and stiffened as the winter chill graced them. behind the mask’s vessel’s eyes widened, he’d never witnessed a woman reverared with such beauty before. he felt the need to fall to his knees before, worship your body with his tongue, repent and relinquish himself solely to you.

“a goddess baring herself before me…”

vessel’s throat tightened with a gulp, his breath teased your nipple, tongue barely jutting out to hesitantly lick at the peak, the bud glistening with his spit under moonlight. he noticed the subtle eye roll on your behalf, noticing you could not do more than moan and whine. he smiled. a devilish one at that, one that boarded on the like between endearing and threatening, one that showed his canines on full display. he had you firmly under his tongue.

“my dear…i shall revel in your flesh…i shall show you no mercy”

he gave another lick to your nipple, wrapping his lips around the perky bud, sucking greedily like a fawn feasting at its mother’s teat. his tongue swirled around the bud, a hand wrapped around the mound of your breast, massaging the soft flesh, his cock hardening, standing fully mast in his shrouds, throbbing against your inner thighs.

“i shall not adhere to your cries…and you shall enjoy it”

his free hand was quick with its movements. shuffling past the barrier of your panties, a evident wet spot present. it did not surprise him, you’ve already proven submissive enough already. his inky digits part your folds, slick with your own wetness as he explores deeper.

“mmm” he hums, feeling the stretch of your cunt around his fingers.

“so wet… so warm…”

your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, your cunt clenching instinctively to forcibly eject him out, although your attempts proved futile, it only aroused vessel further. in response, he sunk his fingers deeper, thumb drawing rough, rigid shaped against your sensitive clit.

“you dare reject me…? oh little dove…” his words mutter against your breast, the flat of his tongue rippled against your nipple with every syllable.

“your rejection only fuels my desire”

he bares his teeth, clamping down around your breast. enough to cause a substantial amount of pain, yet your body’s lack of response and overall paralysis only emphasises his statements. he pulls away with haste, removing his teeth, indentations litter with small specks of crimson in their wake, his teeth stained with that same iron-flavoured sweetness, he licked them clean, savouring the taste.

“you’re lucky, sweet thing, that i did not split your pristine skin more…” he was breathless from the sudden blood-rush.

“but oh gods i wish i did…you’re so…intoxicating…”

his teeth bared again with another sinister smile.

“but i shall hold my tongue…i have plenty of time to sample you again”

the lanky digits of his right hand hooked into your panties, shuffling them down your motionless legs with intense vigour, grool clinging to the fabric, cunt soaked in wait for him. vessel stifled a grunt, his lips parting as his tongue spread across his bottom one.

“gods…” his voice barely above a whisper, muttering subtle curses and praises simultaneously. how you tease and tempt him with your luscious thighs and dripping void, yet he’s so willing to accept the offer, inviting himself into your warmth, drowning in your wetness. he could die happy, your mortal flesh consumed by him.

“now i claim you, for you have presented yourself so willingly to me…”

vessel monologues, the sound of his voice drowned out by other senses. fear and panic overriding your being. he spoke so surely that you were willing to engage with him so frivolously, when in fact he was the one manoeuvring your figure, oddly gentle yet careless at the same time.

“oh and i will enjoy tainting your flesh, my love…” he began to free himself from the confines of his shrouds.

“every waking moment, every dream-filled night, you let your mind drift and you shall warm your loins to the thoughts of me”

his voice, a growl, animalistic and primal. his cock now freed, blackened by the same ink that stained the rest of his body, it prodded at the supple meat of your inner thigh, moving towards your folds, gathering your wetness on the tip of it. he shuddered, the sight almost too much for him, his cock twitching with primal desire. in an instant you felt so full. vessel made no attempt to ease himself inside. the stretch burned, your cunt not fully lubricated to take him with the force and speed he provided. you went to scream, however the paralysis reminded you that your throat had been forcibly shut, vocal chords shredded.

“fuck…” he growled, almost buckling under the weight of the pleasure, your tight cunt clenching around him, once again, trying to force him out.

“oh no… no you don’t little dove.” he panted, already beginning to thrust at a voracious pace. “you let me in now…you just lay there…and take every inch of me”

he bottomed out, his entire length sinking deep within you. his cockhead forcing itself through the meaty ring of your cunt, prodding harshly against your cervix with vicious movements resembling that of a dagger.

“you feel like sin, my love…” his tongue lopped out past his lips, licking hot stripes against your flesh, burying his head into your neck.

“so fucking perfect…so tight…” he gasped in pleasure… “i may not last long if you continue to clench around me like this…”

vessel’s moans ring around your bedroom, his robes now discarded by your bedside, the glow of the moonlight illuminated his obsidian skin, you could not take your eyes from him, not that you had a choice to look anywhere else, he practically eclipsed your figure, manoeuvring your limbs like a ventriloquist would his puppet. allowing you to bend and break, submit to him all at his free will.

“let me position you better…so you can feel me entirely”

he repositions your legs so that they rested atop his shoulders. he lowered himself, pressing his hips against yours so he could fuck you deeper. he had you folded in half, his meaty cock driving into you with full force.

“going to fill you…your womb shall home my spawn”

his grunts grow more feverish by the minute, you could feel the visceral throb of his cock increase.

“would you enjoy that? forced to birth my spawn? to be my subservient queen? to rule the underworld together?”

he paused, giving a rough thrust.

“oh i know you would, little dove. i could tell by the way those eyes bore into mine”

he gave another thrust.

“by the way that pretty cunt clenches around me…you want to be mine…”

vessel grows more feverish at the thought, to watch your womb round and swell, to have to be barefoot and pregnant roaming the halls of his hellish estate. you his queen, subservient to only him. he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks, his gaze softened slightly, his lips curling downward into a small frown.

“no tears my love…shh…” he whispered against your cheeks. “i do not deserve to have those tears wasted on me…”

in what felt almost heartfelt on his behalf, when you thought the dominant facade was beginning to slip, instead of peppering your cheeks with sweet, reassuring kisses, his tongue lips out of his mouth once more, licking your tears in a final attempt to mock you.

his cock throbbed deeply in your cunt, no revelation that his release was upon him. he was not one to simply let his orgasm arrive unannounced. he increased his speed, the force of his thrusts was almost enough to shatter your pelvis…and you could feel him holding back from doing so.

“little dove…you’re going to take every drop and savour it…”

his grunts grew more animalistic as he progressed, the clench of his abdomen was indicative of his closeness, how it quivered as it slammed into you the close he got.

“mmm fuck…”

he gave a final thrust, your belly immediately swelled with his warmth, so much so that he was dripping from within you. he grew ravenous, blinded by lust and need.

“you’re mine…all mine!”

he pulled out of you, his cock still leaking with cum in the process. some of the feeling begins to return to your limbs as you hesitantly, weakly attempt to move. your toes and fingertips twitching slightly.

“no no…i’m not done with you yet, little dove” he pulled you back by the ankles, positioning himself between your thighs once more. his breath fanned against your clit, as his tongue made teasing movements towards it.

“need to taste myself in you…” he mewled. “need to make sure you don’t waste a single drop of my seed”

vessel’s lips wrap around your clit, the aching pearl overstimulated from the previous abuse of his fingers. he hummed into you, sucking greedily at the nub.

“you taste so good mixed with me, my love…” it wasn’t just lust in his eyes, but pure obsession, one that you would not hesitate to threaten him over. but as he lay face buried between your thighs, devouring you, you could not help but lay back and enjoy it, the wonders he provided, the spells of pleasure he cast with his tongue was nothing short of marvellous.

he let two fingers spread your dripping folds, pushing his seed back into your void in a greedy attempt to secure you all to himself. you heard a low chuckle rip through his throat, the rumble vibrating against your swollen clit.

“mmm…” his. breathing quickened as he felt your cunt begin to pulse around his lanky fingers ebbing closer to orgasm. his words came out in harsh, unintelligible whispers, coercing you to savour his seed. he’ll let you cum eventually, but not until he’s certain that he’s filled your womb. his slender fingers pumped into your void at a rapid pace, curling upwards as he forced his cum deeper into you.

“accept all of me, little dove…that’s it…”

his tongue drew shapes against your cunt, tasting himself. the sweetness of your skin mixed with the vile concoction of his seed did not deter him. if anything it made him more enamoured. he grew feverish, his cock hardening again. his lips clasped around your clit, teeth lightly grinding the sensitive nub between them. his large hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you onto his tongue, letting the appendage sink deeper into your already full void. he moaned into you, devouring you with such violent intent.

“oh?” he mumbled into your cunt. “you enjoy this?”

his arousal spiked, his hips grinding languidly against the mattress, noticing the way your cunt clenched with desire around him, so desperate for your own release, you were chasing it, in hopes he would allow it.

“you enjoy the idea of being full of my seed?”

you could not help but mewl at the idea, despite your current predicament, the paralysis on your throat and voice wearing off slowly, allowing you to make small utterances of pleasure in response to his touches, now featherlight, slowly ebbing an orgasm from your walls. vessel smiles, pearly whites flashing in between the shadowy corporeal buds of his lips. feeling the movement of his mouth between your thighs.

your walls began to throb around his fingers, feeling them curl upward, allowing your arousal to spiral out of control. vessel marvels at the sight, the numbness in your thighs begins to subside with soft trembles, the familiar pulse of orgasm rising, feeling it tingle up your spine, feeling the breath catch in your lungs as you teetered on the edge of pleasure. his voice was soft yet his intention remained the same. he wanted to feel you unravel before him.

“your tainted flesh is mine to consume, mine to control…and i command you to release”

his fingers dug into your core with vicious pumps, controlling and commanding the instinctive clench of your cunt around them. your skin burned, like white hot flames of desire for the strange being, who’d effectively ruined your body for his own pleasure. the bite mark on your breast, the depressions of his teeth circled your nipple already beginning to swell and bruise in splotches. your orgasm hits you like a wave, building and building before finally crashing, your warmth cascading down your trembling thighs. vessel admired the sight, how your skin glistened with your sweetness under pale moonlight, how his taste buds danced with the taste of you. he lets out a guttural moan in response, his cock aching with release as he wastes his seed on your bedsheets, the appendage throbbing and swollen, a fiery red upon orgasm from grinding against the mattress.

he savoured your taste, enjoying how well you mingled with his. his head rested upon your inner thigh while he regained his breath, the intricate spirals of his mask poking the flesh. he sighed contently, placing chaste kisses to the skin, an odd sensation considering how relentless and unforgiving he was mere moments ago. you welcomed it, welcomed the feeling of his tongue swirling hot shapes into the skin.

you finally came to, your muscles still ache from paralysis, the weight of him heavy on your chest as he repositioned himself above you, his head now buried in the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses to the tops of your shoulders. you felt oddly comfortable beneath him, listening to the shallow wisps of his breath, the dull throb of his hellish heart beating within his chest. his fingers draw shapes in the valley between your breasts, almost as if he was inscribing his name into your skin.

“i shall return tomorrow evening” his words separated by small pants of breath.

“i will not relent until you accept me, my love”

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

[knoxic]

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x Reader | Lucien Vanserra x Reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5 - p6

Summary: Reader talks to both of them (separately), things get 100% clear.

wc: 2,2k

warnings: none?

a/n: I apologize for this being so short, I just didn't want to leave you guys without them for so long (like I have before 😬), I didn't have much time to write this week and when I did I was surprised at how inspired I was. Absolutely loved writing this part.

You felt like passing out, the aching in your heart making you lightheaded. Too many emotions coming in waves with the pumping of blood rushing through your veins, the numbness in your limbs contradicting that feeling.

Not in your wildest dreams would you have seen Lucien on his knees declaring himself to you. If that's what he was doing. 

“You don't have to say anything now.” He whispered with a small laugh, you think he wouldn't have been able to say anything louder than that due to his nervousness. “I'll go take a walk, give us both time to ponder over it…” 

Lucien's hand slipped from your face and only then did you realize how much you were relying on his touch, as soon as it left your cheek, the sting of cold nicking at your skin took place. The sun was still bright outside, its warmth kept the cold away, it was just your skin that had surpassed the natural heat. Without realizing, your hand rested on that same spot, rubbing softly to bring the warmth back. Lucien, of course, noticed, ever the attentive male.

He could swear his heart swelled with love at the sight of you being so affected by his touch. By him. Deciding it was better to not overwhelm you, Lucien turned to walk out of his room, as his hand met the door handle, your soft voice reached his ears.

“I don't know what to do…” You whispered. He felt sick hearing how unsure and unsettled you sounded.

“You don't have to do anything, darling.” He needed to reassure you, “You don't have to do or say anything. Take your time.” 

“No, it's not like that,” your eyes met his with urgency, “I know what I want, I just don't know how to get it…” A sudden spark of hope flickered inside his chest.

“And what is it you want, Ace?” His voice low and steady.

You knew this was a chance you perhaps would never have again, so you needed to make good use of it, “You.”

Lucien held himself back from rushing to you, the urge to feel your soft lips on his, to feel the warmth of your body heat ten times over in contact to his bare skin. He kept telling himself to take things slow, to not scare you off, to be gentle because that's what you deserved, a gentle love. 

Seeing relief so clearly on Lucien's face felt like a cold bucket of water was dropped on your head, so you continued, “But I also want him…” his brows furrowed slightly, the smile gracing his lips faltered, “And I know it's greedy, I know! I can't help it. I don't think I ever stopped loving him, the thread of my love for you did not disrupt the thread of my mating bond, didn't make me choose, it was just there, blooming in silence. Loving you was easy and I didn't see it coming.” 

You could practically hear his thoughts as they momentarily deafened him. Now he knew you loved him, but you also still loved Azriel, and that worried him. Decades of familiarity wouldn’t be outweighed by two years, at most, of friendship.

“You, Lucien Vanserra, disrobed me without bearing me naked. You have claimed me without tasting my lips, without taking. I gave myself to you and I didn't even realize,” a small laugh escaped your lips, “and you held me, with no benefit, took care of me the way I wouldn't have been able to at that moment.”

The tears rolling down your cheeks weren't acknowledged until soft fingers brushed them away. Lucien, back on his knees before you, didn't bother hiding his own, right now, for him, crying was far from being a synonym of pain or sadness.

Instead of a verbal response, Lucien replied by pulling you into a hug, supporting your body when you slipped down his bed. His hold on you tightened as he quietly sobbed, his sniffles muffled by your neck where he hid. Your fingers gently brushing his locks seemed to ease him, the occasional scratch on his scalp and squeeze on his nape. Too soon for your liking, his arms left your body. 

With both hands holding your face, Lucien brought your face closer to his, resting his forehead on yours, “Go to him.” He spoke, a newfound confidence lacing his words, “Go and talk to him, do what your heart tells you. I don't mind settling on whatever deal he might want to make, I don't mind fighting the blood duel for you, I don't mind if you go back to the night with him, as long as I get to have you by sunrise.”

𓂃

“He rejected the bond.” 

Azriel eyed you silently, trying to gauge your reaction to what you were saying. “I guess we all knew it was a matter of time before it happened…”

Momentarily, your mind drifted to how relieved Lucien looked as he told you about his decision, “Yeah…” 

“How did it make you feel?” It took you a few moments to understand what he was saying, when you did, you took notice of how calmly he had spoken.

Honestly? Happy. “Relieved. I hated seeing him suffering, so it's nice…”

“Ace.” Azriel tilted his head down to try and catch your eyes, “You said you two talked about us, tell me?” 

You knew you had to talk to him about it, you had mentioned it first, but it still had a weird feeling forming inside you. His thumb brushed your hand, tracing your knuckles and down to your nails. Sooner than you planned, the words spilled.

You told him everything, from entering Lucien's room, to how easy you had voiced your feelings to him, pretty much like you were doing now.

“He said he's willing to make a deal with you, to fight a blood duel if you want…”

“What do you want?” Throughout your life, there haven't been many moments where you were asked that same question, and now, not even a day apart, you were asked it twice. “What are you willing to do?” 

“Az–” 

“I won't stop you if you want him, I won't stand on your way. But I need to know if I can fight for you–if I need to fight for you.” The urgency in his voice showed how afraid he was of losing you.

“You don't have to.” You apparently conjured enough confidence to convince him, Azriel quieted. “I'm not giving up on us, but I don't want to give up Lucien either. I don't know how I'm going to do this…” Your last words slowly turned into a whisper.

You granted yourself a moment to think. With Azriel in front of you, not Lucien, things seemed different. Even though he was the only one to mention aloud what the three of you secretly wished for, you were scared of what would happen if you agreed. 

Suffering was a natural thing. Living meant feeling, and the ability to feel wasn't always a good thing. In the duration of a day, it was possible to feel many different emotions in just a span of hours, a happy moment could quickly change by a simple act. And when you've been living for centuries, fighting battles, meeting new people and mourning others, expecting suffering becomes a habit. 

It wasn't a nice thing to say, but it was true. You wish you didn't have to anticipate pain, that things could remain as they were. Steady and familiar. But that prohibited you from experiencing new things, good and unexpected things. Sometimes living through habits and routines blinded you from seeing the good in things, and after losing those habits, you were allowed to see how many opportunities to appreciate were lost.

“This whole time we've been apart made me realize some things need to change.” He nodded slightly, “I missed you, missed our routine, missed our unprompted late night dinners, missed waking up in the middle of the night to your heavy wing draped over me–” Azriel's bashful laugh surprised you.

“I didn't know I did that…” His cheeks turned a tad darker.

“Well, I never minded it, it's comforting… but imagine a dark and heavy form suddenly covering you when you're barely conscious, it's scary.” 

At that and the smirk on your face, Azriel doubled over in laughter, the kind of laughter that only came when he was feeling especially giddy with happiness. The ruffling of wings and coolness on your arms showed how loose he felt. His shadows happily settled around you both, you had a feeling they purposefully kept away from your faces.

When he looked up, his eyes were shining, “This,” he whispered, “I missed this.” 

You carefully watched him, “Me too, but you're changing the subject…” You wouldn't have minded spending some more time joking around with him, not seeing the frown on his face and not having to worry if your tone of voice was too playful for him at the time, which is why you needed to cut him off.

“I know.” He nodded slowly, hazel eyes drifting down to your conjoined hands, “I'm sorry. I don't like changes, I don't want things to change… But I know they have to,” there was a long pause and for a moment you thought he was going to stop there, “and it scares me.” 

“Are you scared I'm going to leave you?”

He subtly nodded, "I'm scared you'll find out he's much better than me."

Your brows furrowed, "That's bullshit, you two are completely different, you can't compare."

"I know." He shook his head as if brushing away a thought, "He's just better at taking care of you than I am, and I had decades to improve..."

"Another bullsh–"

"He's good," he cut you off, "and I can see why you love him. I've got baggage, shit I still have to work on but was never brave enough to do so. You helped me so much, made life easier to deal with, but that's not your job, and I want both of us to be at the same stage, you know?"

"Why do I feel like you're trying to break up with me?" You whispered.

Azriel laughed, cupping your face and bringing you for a little peck on your lips, brushing you nose with his, "No, sweetheart, I'm not. Wouldn't choose a life without you in it." Taking a moment to admire you from up close, he became quiet.

"What's on your mind?" You searched his eyes to try and find a clue, even if his face appeared distance, his eyes were nothing but focused on you, shedding emotion.

"You said things needed a change, right?" You hummed in response, "Let me get to know you again. We were pushed into tearing down our lives, it's only fair we get to build it back up, stronger this time. Perhaps with room for more?" Hope emanated from him.

Dread danced in your guts, "We already had room for more–"

"Which I still hope to fill, eventually." The hand he kept holding yours gave you a tight squeeze, "It's your call if they'll be decorated with cute bats or sly little foxes... But still, they'll all be raised the same anyways."

You failed to give him a response, too shocked by his words and the images provided by your mind. When the concept of children became a possibility to you, they always bore bat wings and dark hair, but now, influenced by who you hoped would be their father, you saw apple colored eyes and hair, how bright they'd glow on a Autumn day.

They'd push the leaves together, collecting enough to make a little mountain so they could jump in it without hurting themselves, maybe if they were adventurous, which of course they'd would be, conjuring their father's charm, they could convince their winged siblings to take them just a little higher.

It would be chaos from then on, giggles everywhere, hushed whispers to not let mommy know, a few other hoarser whispers and you'd let yourself get closer, to see with your own eyes where they all got the adventurous spirit from. The two males that found the path to your heart and soul, both with enough muscles to knock other males off their feet, using their strength to push more leaves into their children's pile.

The contagious giggles must have affected them too, for Lucien started collecting a bunch of leaves in his arms and quietly, with all his grace, made his way towards Azriel, who in his hunched position beside the giant pile, became almost defenseless when they rained down his back and head. Almost.

Batting his wings against the floor, he sent flying most of the leaves still falling and the ones on his back. His mind being so filled with playing revenge, that he forgot about his designed task. His children's important pile of leaves in front of him, that went flying too, covering them all in its Autumn colors.

"You like that, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question. You napped your eyes to his at the sound of his voice, you could hear his smile before seeing it, "It's okay, I see it too."

Would there be any point in lying? You weren't even sure if you'd manage to come up with a plausible excuse for your daydream. And who would you be trying to fool? Yourself? Because Azriel made it clear what he thought of including Lucien in your life.

"If I tell you, I want him too, would it be easier for you to say yes?"

"Yes."

taglist: @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @meritxellao @cleverzonkwombatsludge @paintedbyshadows @mp-littlebit @rcarbo1 @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @littlepippilongstocking @lorosette @minnieoo @hailqueenconquer @azriels-shadowsinger @blessthepizzaman @chelsiemp @saltedcoffeescotch @thestartitaness @historygeekqueen @sillyfreakfanparty @entr4p3 @warmdragonfly @clementine111002 @azriel-shadowsingerr @amiime @anuttellaa @loulou0101 @acourtofbatboydreams @xmalfoyweasleyx @anna-reader-blog @melmo567 @buttermilktea11 @helo1281917 @thelov3lybookworm @cazrielsfairygf @hanatsuki-hime @st4r-girl-official @feiwelinchen @fhgsvbnh @tenshis-cake @lilah-asteria @imagoddessinmystories @iluvyewman-blog @azriels-human @starriestarlight @tele86 @lees-chaotic-brain @honk4emoboyz @bunnyredgirl @sleepylunarwolf

[ksakiswh0re-xo]

✧ cockwarming draken while you study :

cw: fem reader, cockwarming, draken teasing, dirty talk/praise, hair-pulling, backshots, spanking, big dick warning lolol

wc: 634

Imagine cockwarming Draken while you study. You're sitting on your bed with your laptop and books all around you and you're naked from the waist down as you try to focus on taking your notes, but it's hard because all you can think about is how deep his fat cock is nestled inside your warm hole.

He's got an arm wrapped around your waist, making sure that you don't move as he watches your screen over your shoulder while you type.

Experimentally, he gives you a little nudge just because he loves to see you fall apart for him so easily. He smirks and nips at your ear when you whine and your fingers fall from the keyboard and onto his thigh.

"Keep typing. Be a good girl for me. Gunna ace this test, aren't ya, baby?"

You're too dumb to talk so he grabs your jaw and squeezes, making you face him as he moves your head up and down in a nod.

"I know you are, because you're my smart girl, after all. Get to it, baby, so I can fuck this sweet pussy just how she needs to be fucked."

—-

“Focus.”

Draken growls into your ear as he kneels behind you, balls deep in your cunt.

You’re bent over your laptop taking a quiz, breasts dangling heavily beneath you and almost touching the keyboard from the mean arch that your boyfriend has you in.

“‘m focused, Ken…” Your voice wobbles as does your hand; your mouse shakily hovers over a wrong answer before you suck in a breath and correct it.

“That was a close call, but you caught it, baby. Look at you, you’re doing such a good job.”

He spanked your butt a couple of times then rubbed the supple flesh with his big hands.

“I-I’m done…” The quiz was now submitted: you scored 100%.

Draken’s grin grew wider, showcasing two rows of perfect white teeth that you could see reflected in your laptop screen.

“Good fucking girl.”

He moved over you to close the computer lid and slide it onto the floor, pushing himself even further against your womb before he eased about half of his length out.

“Put the rest of that shit on the floor,” Draken commanded, referring to your multiple books, pens, and highlighters.

You hurriedly brushed the items off the edge of the bed, some of the pens rolling across the hardwood while Draken grabbed your hair up into a makeshift ponytail and began fucking into you relentlessly.

“Ah ah ah ah! Ken!”

The bed squeaked and rocked, the headboard banging loudly against the wall that was sure to have your neighbors pissed at you, but how could you care when you were getting the best fucking reward? Literally.

Draken slowed down and eased himself in and out of you to let you hear the squelch of your wet pussy a few times before he was buried deep once again.

“Shit girl, your greedy pussy is squeezing me so fucking tight.”

Something in him snapped, and the next thing you knew, his entire weight was pressing down on you as he pulled your arms behind your back and held your wrists against your ass.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Draken pummeled your pussy with ferocity until the both of you were moaning each others’ names out and spiraling into mind-numbing orgasms.

Finally, you were released and your fatigued body collapsed into the soft mattress. 

You could still feel your legs twitching while simultaneously your cunt contracted, releasing a thick gush of Draken’s cum.

Soft pecks were then pressed into your sweaty back until you rolled over to face your handsome lover, eyes fluttering dangerously as the urge to sleep swept over you.

“Rest for now. When you wake up, we’ll be on to the next subject.”

[jjenthusee]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Angst, hurt no comfort

The sun was blinding. White light that burned against the skin of your eyelids trying to shield your eyes.

A couple blinks helped to adjust your senses, but you could only squint long enough to try to look at your surroundings.

Trees. Seats. The inside of a truck?

You sat up straighter. Your fast movements disorienting your mind, but you swiveled your head nonetheless. Pushing away the sudden motion sickness.

It was the interior of a truck. Your family pickup.

You hadn’t seen it in ages after your family sold it off when you were thirteen.

A sickening nostalgic feeling constricting your throat. You turned your head to look out the window of the backseat.

You were moving.

Endless trees were passing you, almost in a blur. It was home like you were back driving through the backroads, but this looked like a freeway.

You were sitting with the windows rolled up, but you could practically smell the outside. The smell of the almost red dirt and the sound of the trees wiggling against the wind.

It reminded you of when your life was only about getting dirt in your shoes and your mom would nag about the stains on them.

“—ug.”

Huh? Dad?

“Bug, can you feel the air?”

Your dad’s voice reverberated through you. Your throat burning as you listened to the familiar nickname. The way his voice was delicate whenever he used it.

You looked forward expecting to see the front of the vehicle, but it was more fog. You wanted to rub your eyes hoping they would readjust and you could see your dad rather than only hear him.

But the blurriness stayed.

“It’s too hot, I can’t believe you forgot the cooler.”

Your mother’s voice echoed from the passenger seat, finally stabilizing when she finished talking.

The firmness still familiar and prominent.

“I told you that I’m sorry, I thought I put it in the backseat.”

You smiled hearing your parents bicker. It never failed that a roadtrip started with them arguing with each other. It was harmless banter, but it warmed your chest to hear both of their voices intertwined again.

Like a fog had cleared, the backs of your parents became more visible. Their silhouettes morphing into their all too familiar clothes and hair. Your dad driving and your mom sitting next to him with the usual grace she carried.

So many memories spent watching your parents from the backseat. You remembered you would move to the middle of the seats to perfectly balance seeing both of your parents, the sides of their faces barely visible, but it was also the perfect spot to get the best wave of cool air from the AC.

You saw the endless road through the front windshield. No traffic and the road closed in by the trees. It was just you and your parents like old times.

A sudden chill ran through you. Your arms shivered.

The truck was old, but it was sturdy. Your dad was very particular about the maintenance, so it kept kicking through the years. Maybe the AC was just strong?

“—u’re okay. You’ll be fine.”

Another voice chimed in, but when you turned to your parents they were still going back and forth, not paying attention to you.

A sharp sting pricked your right shoulder. The pain felt like a needle poling you, but it started to burn and the pain took over. It traveled down to your arm and fingers.

Your cries alerted your parents and your mom looked over her shoulder with concern.

“What’s wrong—“

You couldn’t form an answer as you clenched your shoulder with your left hand. Trying your best to somehow lessen the pain.

You looked down to assess the injury. You were in a GCPD vest and a red hoodie? What an interesting combo.

“Don’t you close your eyes, you fucking idiot.”

A harsh voice floated around you. It made your head hurt.

What in the world was going on?

Sweat formed on your forehead ready to drop down to your eyebrow.

Your entire right arm going numb. Well, now that was bad.

“I can’t feel my arm.”

You looked up to your mom. Slow panic blooming on her face.

“Shit, honey, you have to pull over.”

“There’s a semi behind us, we have to let it pass then—“

“Just put on the hazards! We have to pull over.”

They were arguing again, more about their concern for you, but you wanted to laugh at the situation. How long has it been since someone had reacted to you in this way?

Your mom unbuckled herself and maneuvered her body to wipe the sweat off your face. Her eyes looking at you. She was worried, but you saw as she fought against it.

She was never one to comfort with words, but you felt better as she dabbed at your sweat.

“Don’t touch her, dickhead!”

You winced. The distant voice had such a foul mouth.

You looked up again, there was no reaction from your mom. She was a stickler for bad language, so if she wasn’t ready to threaten you with cleaning your mouth with soap, she didn’t hear the voice yelling.

“Jaybird, I’m trying to help.”

Another faceless voice. It didn’t contain the same venom as the first one.

“Then help her. She’s losing too much blood and this fucking rain is not helping.”

The irritation was growing from the distant echo. The anger felt familiar.

Instantly, you shivered again.

Your dad successfully pulled off the road bringing the truck to a complete stop. Now he was able to look back at you. His eyebrows pulled together in concern at your messy state.

You were in so much pain, but you were happy. Your parents were doting on you. You missed this feeling, being cared for.

“She still has a pulse, but it’s weak—so we have to act fast. B isn’t that far, we can make it. Just trust me, Jay.”

You shivered again.

“She’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

The voice sounded like it was trying to convince himself more than you.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

The sudden change of anger to tender twisted something inside of you.

A strange wave of sadness itched at you. Why did his voice affect you?

“You said you wanted to cook me a ‘real’ dinner. You promised me.”

You felt like crying.

“You have to take back your DVD.”

People still use those?

“I can’t believe you still buy those ancient things and your stupid puzzle is still on my table. I haven’t moved it, but I bought you the glue you’ve been talking about.”

“Jaybird—“ The other voice tried to interrupt.

“You need to glue it.”

Flashes of memories started to enter your mind.

Red Hood pointing a gun in your face. Sitting in his safe house together. Removing his helmet. Watching Jason, your Jason, make a shitty dinner. Then your sadness when you realized he only ate to live. Teaching him about the mundane things about life.

You put a stamp onto his life and he had his stamp on yours.

Using his shampoo, wearing his clothes, blushing when he told you how good you looked in red.

“Fuck!”

The yell made you flinch. Your dad reaching past the seat to pet your head. A silent comfort.

You remembered.

Remembered that you followed Jason to stop the new drug that infested the schools across Gotham. You ended up going into the warehouse by yourself and as you were aiming your pistol, the drug lord aimed back at you. There were four shots. You each got a good hit on the other, but you managed to limp yourself out to the open smoggy air with the drug lord still slumped on the concrete. You did your job. Months of work was finally done. Except paper work, but that could be dealt with.

A couple steps into the rain and more gunshots had fired behind you. A flash of red moved at the corner of your eye, but your body fell forward.

You didn’t finish the job. The drug lord had been barely breathing and still shot you.

Jay had to clean up after you. Again.

You couldn’t do anything right. Now you were full of bullet holes, face plastered against the rough pavement.

It was too late.

Your body shifted, lifted like you weighed nothing. Your face feeling pouring rain when a red silhouette shielded your face.

“You idiot!” Jason’s voice booming above you.

Your body felt so heavy.

You slowly blinked up at his helmet. You always hated that it blocked you from seeing his actual face. You loved looking at him, but when he had it on, you wanted take it off and throw it.

You closed your eyes. When they reopened you could see your mom holding your face.

“I’m dying.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic. It’s probably cause you spent all weekend running around and strained yourself. I’ll give you some medicine and then you’ll rest more when we get home.”

“Mom, I don’t want to die.”

“Hush, you just need to rest. You look tired.”

You were tired. So tired.

Your father reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s alright bug, you can rest.”

He was right. It was okay.

It won’t hurt to close your eyes for a little while. Maybe Jay will be there when you wake up. You’ll be in his arms and he’ll complain about you hogging the blanket all night, then kiss the sleepiness off of you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you wake up. We love you.”

The pain had stopped.

You closed your eyes.

Maybe you would rest for a bit.

Car drives always did make you sleepy.

…

Jason held your hand. Your body was soaked from the rain, water dripping off the sides of your face as you laid in front of him.

He was afraid to move you any further, so he sat on the ground. His helmet lulled next to his feet, thrown to the ground.

All the noise around him stopped. He couldn’t hear anything.

He had a lot of fuck-ups in his life, but this was by far the worse one.

Your pulse had stopped. You were cold.

Jason shakily reached for your face. You looked like you were going to wake at any moment to move the hair out of your face and you would ask him what all the fuss was about.

But you laid there. Hair still in your face, moved from the rain.

He stopped himself from touching you, throwing off his gloves with the same carelessness as his helmet.

Jason inched towards your face, using his bare fingers to move the wet hair. He watched the cold beauty you radiated.

But it wasn’t you.

It wasn’t the person who judged his bad eating habits, complained about his old leather jacket, yet still sewed close the new holes that formed.

“You idiot.”

His voice eerie and calm.

He reached for your body, gently scooping you up into his embrace. Holding you as close as he can get you.

He couldn’t feel any heartbeat. No familiar thump that calmed him, that lulled him to sleep on those nights it was too difficult to rest.

“You fucking idiot.”

Jason whispered into your hair. None of his earlier panic or malice heard in his voice.

Lines of tears fell from his eyes. A quiet sob as he touched his forehead to yours.

“Don’t leave me.”

His voice broke.

He held you tighter. Intertwining his hand and yours together like he could bring back life into you.

“Please.”

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 2

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Wanda returns home to her roommate's many questions, and runs into a surprise guest at her job.

content warnings: none

word count: 4.5k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Chapter 2

Wanda’s heart is racing, and she feels a sort of numbness spreading from where Ms. Romanoff’s hand had rested on her shoulder. It had only been there for a few moments, but it still felt like tingles of electricity were ricocheting around her body. The sight of a clean, marble lobby greeted her, and Wanda rushed from the elevator. 

Outside, the rain had just started. It was a welcome relief from the hot, stifling air and accompanying stares from several, gorgeous blonde women. The cool, gentle drops of rain hitting Wanda’s face washed away the lingering feeling of wrongness, and all thoughts of not fitting in started to fade as she handed her valet ticket to a man dressed in a black uniform. He was impeccably dressed. Was that a standard at this company?

Natasha Romanoff. The name rolls around Wanda’s head, her silently forming the syllables. No woman had ever made her feel the way that Ms. Romanoff did. Wanda wondered what it was. Her stunning features, her tailored clothes, her wealth? Maybe it was her quick, well-thought-out responses and striking green eyes. 

Barely registering the man pulling her car to the front of the building, Wanda spares one last glance at the building behind her before easing into Seattle traffic. She had 165 miles to drive, and plenty of time to think about the interview and those questions. 

Kate’s questions. 

Wanda was seriously considering murder, because, what the fuck? Asking her personal questions about her adoption? The cryptic responses she received about Ms. Romanoff’s hobbies? The whole ordeal felt like a fever dream. A sudden memory rose up, worming its way to the front of her mind.

“Oh my god,” Wanda said out loud, fighting the urge to slam her head into the steering wheel. “I asked her if she was gay, what the fuck is wrong with me?”

Then, she remembered that Ms. Romanoff had responded with a simple ‘Yes, I am.’

She didn’t want to think about why her clothes felt too restrictive, too warm all of a sudden. Her fingers trembled slightly as she cranked the AC on, hitting the button for the radio. Anything to drown out the thoughts of penetrating green eyes looking at her, rooting her to her spot. The warmth of her hand, resting on her shoulder. A firm voice commanding her to be careful. 

Her eyes drop to the speedometer. She’s driving much slower than usual. Wanda shakes her head, forcing her foot down on the gas pedal. 

Best to just leave the whole thing in the past, Wanda tells herself, her eyes catching sight of her exit onto the freeway. She speeds up at the sight, a hint of rebelliousness rising within her as she sees the stretch of bare road in front of her. 

There is no Ms. Romanoff and her commanding voice and sharp eyes here. She doesn’t have to ever see the woman and deal with the confusing feelings warring inside her ever again. Wanda can go as fast as she wants, and a slow smile spreads across her face. The speedometer doesn’t drop below 100 the rest of the drive home. 

—

“Wanda you’re back!” Kate's voice rings out, sounding much healthier than it had been this morning. 

Leaning against the doorway of their apartment, Wanda calls out a response. She shakes the lingering flashes of a large, glass building from her mind, kicking off her shoes near the doorway. She’ll pick them up later after she finishes berating Kate for her questions and avoiding any responses that don’t directly correlate to the interview. 

She’s lucky to live with Kate. Her parents bought the apartment, and Wanda barely had to pay anything, much to her relief. Kate didn’t like the idea of taking much money from her roommate-turned-friend, and Wanda’s savings account was growing steadily as a result. 

Walking through the doorway, Wanda finds Kate sitting upright for the first time in days, even if it is on the floor. She’s wearing purple pajamas with a dog face pattern and is surrounded by textbooks and random papers. Spotting an empty mug nearby, Wanda turns on the kettle to heat some water. She’s never needed hot tea more than at this moment. 

“You’re back a little earlier than I expected,” Kate remarks, speaking quickly before Wanda can respond. “How was it, was she nice? I bet she is. What was she like? Did she answer all of my questions?”

“Woah, let me at least set your stuff down first,” Wanda responds, removing the recording device and stack of slightly crumpled questions from her bag. She sets them down on the coffee table in front of Kate and prepares a tea bag while her roommate excitedly runs her fingers over the buttons on the device. 

“She was… intense.” That’s all that Wanda can say, and she responds to Kate’s raised eyebrows with a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know, she was intimidating, well-dressed, and young. Like, only a little bit older than us young.”

Kate blinks, her expression clear. Wanda frowns. 

“Don’t look at me like that, you didn’t give me a biography on her or anything. I went in completely blind, and she made me feel like some sort of idiot for not knowing basic facts about her.” Wanda removes the tea kettle when it starts to shriek. She carefully pours the hot water into her mug as Kate brings her hands to her mouth, her eyes round. 

“Oh my God, I didn’t even think - I’m so sorry, Wanda.”

“It’s fine, you’re sick,” Wanda says, moving towards the floor and settling in next to Kate. “She was fine, really. But she spoke like she was in her forties or something. How old is she, anyway?”

“She’s twenty-six, again I’m so sorry. I should’ve briefed you or written a description or something,” Kate pauses, turning on the recording device. “I’ll start transcribing the interview, you asked all my questions, right?”

Wanda smiles into her cup, the ghost of a flush warming her cheeks. “Yes, I asked them. All of them.”

“Oh good, thank you again. I owe you big time!” 

And truly, looking into Kate’s earnest, wide eyes, Wanda can’t find it in herself to be annoyed anymore. It’s in the past, now. Her gaze lands on the textbook still lying open on the counter. Fuck, with all the driving and panic and interview stuff, she’d nearly forgotten about finals. 

Well, no time like the present. 

—

Muffled sounds of music escape from Kate’s headphones, and Wanda gives up on trying to concentrate. Blinking blearily at the clock, she rubs her eyes as she realizes that three hours have passed. Slowly closing her textbook, Wanda stands and stretches out the numerous knots forming around her shoulders and neck. She grabs her mug, the last remnants of tea cold and unappealing as she brings it over to the sink. 

“You got some great material, Wanda,” Kate says, pausing her music and pulling her headphones down to rest around her neck. She’s recently taken a shower, her hair still slightly damp as it leaves wet patches against her shirt. “I can’t believe you didn’t let her show you around, she was practically begging you to let her.”

Wanda scoffs. Natasha Romanoff begging? In what world? She had only been in the woman’s presence for around half an hour, and she already knew that woman would never beg. Besides, there’s no way a woman like Ms. Romanoff would willingly want to spend more time with her. Would she?

“I understand what you mean when you said she was intense,” Kate continues, oblivious to Wanda’s inner turmoil. “You didn’t write any notes?”

“No I didn’t,” Wanda turned on the sink, rinsing her mug.

“That’s okay, I can work with the recording. It’s too bad we don’t have any original pictures, she’s really good-looking too. That’s always a plus.”

Wanda feels a flush spread over her cheeks. Fuck. 

“Sure.” She hopes her tone is nonchalant. Kate doesn’t react, and Wanda scrubs her mug a little harder than necessary. She gives her Scrub Daddy sponge a silent apology. 

“Oh, be so for real, Wanda,” Kate says, turning towards her. She has no chance of hiding, her cheeks pink. “We both know that you like older women, you couldn’t possibly be unaware of her sex appeal.”

Wanda feels trapped. She decides on misdirection. 

“I’m sure you could have gotten way more information out of her. You’re a journalism student, not me.” 

“I doubt that, she basically offered you a job on the spot. Did you hear her talk about the internship or were you too busy drooling and imagining her fucki-”

“Oh my fucking god!” Wanda practically shouts, finally turning towards Kate. Her roommate has a wide smirk on her face, her eyes roaming over Wanda’s red face. 

“Fine,” Kate drawls, her eyes bright and knowing. “What did you really think of her, then?”

Wanda lets out a breath, setting her mug in the dishwasher and turning towards Kate. She leans against the counter, thinking. “She’s driven and controlling, almost scary, but extremely well-spoken. She was… fascinating.”

“You sound like a psychology major,” Kate teases, laughing slightly at Wanda’s eye roll. She continues, “She seemed to like you quite a lot, wanna sandwich?”

Her words wrap around Wanda’s brain, her heartbeat quickening as she processes. Ms. Romanoff liking her? Maybe, but not in the way Wanda would want her to. She turns her face again, busying herself with the dishes left in the sink, avoiding eye contact as she tells Kate that yes, she would love a sandwich. 

Wanda’s thoughts turn back towards her finals, her eyes wandering over to her textbooks near the couch. She should really stop thinking about Ms. Romanoff. Besides, she’s never going to see the young millionaire again. 

That night, Wanda dreams of dark red hair, cold marble floors, and piercing green eyes. 

—

For the remainder of the week, Wanda focuses only on studying for her finals, and her job. She was fortunate enough to pick up some extra shifts, her manager not questioning her sudden need for extra hours. If she needed to be away from her textbooks and thoughts of Ms. Romanoff, that was her own business. 

Wanda didn’t mind working at a hardware store, but she’d be lying if she said it was her first choice. That being said, the only reason she stayed was because of the flexible hours and good management. Her boss, Carol, was hard at times but knew how to have fun and always had her employees’ back. 

The bright yellow stickers she was putting on various items glared up at her, Wnada’s attention returning to the task at hand. Her job was monotonous at times, but she didn’t mind. It gave her time to think about classes, or the finals she was preparing for, or long legs and sharp cheekbones and dark red hair…

Giving herself a little shake, Wanda removes a sticker from its roll. Placing it on a roll of duct tape, she glances over towards the textbook she’d brought with her. What was it that she was studying? Oh, right. Something about Sylvia Plath and…

She glanced towards the clock and sighed. Four more hours and then she could leave and finally start the essay she’d been dreading. 

The bell rang, signaling a new customer. Wanda returned to her task. Valkyrie was in charge of greeting new customers, so she paid no mind to the stranger entering the store. 

“Ms. Maximoff, what a pleasant surprise.”

Wanda’s head shot up, her eyes finding dark green immediately. Ms. Romanoff, in her store. Her eyes traveled down the woman’s body of their own accord, taking in the well-tailored pants and shirt, casual enough to go shopping but still screaming of wealth. 

Looking around, Wanda didn’t see anybody else in sight. Damn, Valkyrie must have slipped into the back office to talk - flirt more like - with Carol. She was on her own. 

“Ms. Romanoff,” Wanda says, her voice barely above a whisper. She can feel her cheeks heating up, her voice low and bordering on the edge of confusion. Why was she here? The woman didn’t belong in a small town like this, shopping at a hardware store of all places. 

“I was in the area for business,” Ms. Romanoff states, as if that answers all the questions Wanda could possibly have. Her green eyes are boring into Wanda’s, her attention focused solely on her. 

Wanda can feel her heartbeat racing, pounding in her chest as she tries to think of something clever to say. Hell, she’d even settle for something coherent at this point. Anything to stop her from gaping in surprise at the woman currently standing two feet in front of her. 

“Ms. Romanoff,” Wanda chokes out, meaning to say something more. Nothing comes out, her mouth snapping shut of its own accord, too stunned to continue. 

“It's a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Maximoff,” she says, her eyes still boring into Wanda’s. “I need a few things.”

“Wanda, just… call me Wanda.” 

Ms. Romanoff smiles, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as she continues to intensely stare at Wanda. Her smile seems victorious, like she’s just learned some big secret. It throws Wanda off for a moment, but she shakes the feeling and puts on her own smile. 

“What can I help you with, Ms. Romanoff?”

“Only a few items, the first being cable ties,” she says, her voice low. Her eyes are sparkling slightly, like she’s amused. Wanda notices that the woman doesn’t offer her own first name in return, and blinks as she processes the words. 

Who the fuck buys cable ties? What would fancy-pants-rich-ass Ms. Romanoff possibly need cable ties for? 

“Right this way, we have multiple lengths.”

Professional, Wanda can do that. She attempts nonchalance, her attention focused solely on not tripping over her own two feet. Her cool facade is shattered the moment Ms. Romanoff steps next to her, the woman’s perfume wafting deliciously under her nose. Cinnamon. 

Wanda is surprised at the bold choice, but after a few more seconds of not-so-subtly sniffing the air, she decides that the perfume is growing on her rather quickly. It would probably smell even better if Wanda was able to press her nose directly against the woman’s warm, soft neck and-

“So what type of business do you have in this area?” The words come rushing out, and Wanda winces at her abruptness. 

Ms. Romanoff doesn’t seem fazed, her amused expression only growing stronger as she turns her head. Her green eyes find Wanda’s, and she smirks slightly. “I was visiting one of the research facilities in the area. I’m funding a project of theirs in relation to renewable wind energy and advancing it to create a sustainable solution in the future.” 

Her voice is soft yet strong, a slight rasp that makes Wanda want to melt into the floor. A small part of her brain reminds her that the woman is only here for work, not because she somehow knew that Wanda would be working. It was just a pleasant coincidence. 

“That’s admirable,” Wanda says as looks up. Fuck, those green eyes are still looking at her. Those lips are turned up in a half smile, just a hint of something pink on them. Wanda realizes she’s been staring for too long when those lips turn up even further, and she quickly looks away. Luckily, they’ve ended up at the cable ties, Ms. Romanoff’s long fingers trailing over a few different lengths before selecting a few. 

“Anything else?” Wanda can barely hear herself, the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears making it impossible to focus. 

“Masking tape, please.”

“Are you decorating something?” The question slips out before Wanda can stop it. Ms. Romanoff’s eyes crinkle again at the edges, amusement rolling off her in waves. 

“No, I’m not,” she says, her head tilting as Wanda leads her toward the tape section of the store. “Have you worked here for a while?”

The question throws Wanda off, her head whipping towards the woman on her right. She's close, so close that their shoulders brush slightly as Wanda finds her balance. Her eyes seem darker than before, brows furrowed slightly as she waits for an answer. 

Right, an answer. 

“Oh, yes. Four years,” Wanda says distractedly, practically shoving a few rolls of masking tape toward Ms. Romanoff. The woman was distracting, and Wanda couldn’t concentrate. All the thoughts she’d tried to suppress came rushing back to the surface. 

Dark red hair, falling over a strong shoulder, exposed forearms, and rolled sleeves of tight material stretching over muscles. Green eyes, piercing as they look at Wanda. 

Fuck. Wanda cleared her throat. “Anything else?”

“Rope, if you have any.” Ms. Romanoff murmurs, her voice still low. Her attention is focused solely on Wanda, the masking tape and cable ties held loosely between her fingers. 

“Ah, right this way,” Wanda says, her voice huskier than usual. She clears her throat again, speaking to fill the weird tension going on. “What type of rope are you looking for?”

“Anything soft, but strong will do. Five yards should be enough. Red, if you have it.” 

Wanda feels her fingers trembling, her mind replaying those words as she measures out the exact length of rope. Fuck, why did Ms. Romanoff use such a low tone when speaking? She can feel the woman’s hot gaze on her, the back of her neck heating up as she cuts the rope. Quickly, her movements confident despite the slight tremors running through her body, Wanda manages to coil up the rope and ties a quick-release knot around the center to hold it in place. 

“Were you a Girl Scout?” Her lips are turned up, but those green eyes show genuine interest. 

“Camping in the woods isn’t really my thing, Ms. Romanoff.”

She arches a single brow, the sight sending heat coursing through Wanda and coiling in her stomach. 

“Then what is your… thing, Wanda?”

Oh, her name falling from those sultry lips. Fuck, this woman was sending her already-tired brain reeling. The woman’s head is tilted slightly, her eyes searching Wanda’s like she was looking for the last piece of a complicated jigsaw puzzle. 

“Well, I like books. I mean, reading. Reading books.” Wanda cursed herself, the jumbled sentences seeming to echo around the aisle. 

“What genre?” Ms. Romanoff said, her eyes more curious than piercing. Wanda wondered why she was asking. Surely she didn’t actually care, she was most likely just looking to make small talk. But then again, the way her eyes were locked on Wanda’s told an entirely different story. 

“Classics and feminist literature, mainly.” 

Ms. Romanoff hummed thoughtfully in response, nodding slightly. Her eyes soften slightly, almost too subtle for Wanda to catch it. She didn’t want to think about what that meant, and quickly tried to think of something else to say. She draws a blank, her heart racing slightly as she slowly walks back towards the register, Ms. Romanoff beside her. 

“How is the article coming along?”

Finally, something she could talk about. A safe topic. 

“I’m not writing it. My roommate, Kate, is. She’s truly phenomenal, her articles are always very well-written. She’s also the editor for the magazine, so she’s really thrilled that you were able to do any interview, even if she couldn’t be there herself.” Wanda pauses to take a breath, a small detail coming to mind. “The only thing she’s concerned about is the lack of original photos to compliment your interview.”

One of those perfect eyebrows arches again. 

“What sort of photos does she want?”

“I- well. I’m not sure, I didn’t really ask…” Wanda says, flustered. She hadn’t anticipated that response. 

“I’m around tomorrow, if that works.”

“You,” Wanda chokes on air. Ms. Romanoff’s lips turn up into a small smile, and she feels the blush returning full force. “You would go to a private photoshoot? Kate’s going to be so happy, holy shit.”

Before thinking, Wanda smiles widely at Ms. Romanoff, her happiness shining through. 

The redhead blinks slightly, and Wanda hears a sharp inhale of breath. The woman’s lips are parted slightly, her eyes locked on Wanda’s face and roaming around her features, landing on her smile, eyes, and her cheekbones before she seems to pull herself together. 

Wanda immediately wants to catch the woman off guard again. Her face was so… soft. The genuine emotion was fleeting, but Wanda saw it and found herself craving more. 

“I would be delighted, here,” Ms. Romanoff says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a business card. Her fingers touch Wanda’s as she hands it over, and Wanda starles slightly at the cool tingles that spread throughout her hand at the contact. 

“It has my name, number, and email on the back. You’ll have to call or text before nine in the morning.” 

Holy shit. She just gave Wanda her number. This insanely beautiful, well-spoken millionaire just gave Wanda her fucking number. She didn’t know what to do, so she ended up just staring at the woman while her lips parted briefly in an effort to say something. 

Ms. Romanoff gives her a knowing look. “For the photo shoot.”

Right. The photo shoot. She feels herself flush as the amusement on Ms. Romanoff’s face mixes with something else that Wanda can’t quite identify. 

“Sounds good,” She murmurs, looking up and smiling at the woman again. 

“Wanda!”

Carol appears from the back of the store, her voice carrying over the shelves as she makes her way towards the front of the store. Her voice is bright, her lips already turned into an infectious smile as she rounds the corner. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Wanda notices the way Ms. Romanoff goes stiff. Any trace of amusement is wiped from her face, her lips no longer quirked up in that secret smile Wanda receives. 

“Oh, excuse me! I didn’t realize there was a customer here,” Carol says, her smile not faltering even as the redhead frowns at her. She’s rounded the register, her hand casually resting on her arm as she asks Ms. Romanoff if she’s been finding everything all right. 

“Wanda has been very attentive,” she says, and Wanda snaps back into the conversation, noting the way Ms. Romanoff’s eyes linger around Carol’s hand resting on her arm. She loves her manager, truly, but her over-familiarity was leaving the wrong impression. 

“Carol has been here ever since I started working my freshman year,” Wanda begins, her heart stuttering when Ms. Romanoff snaps her gaze towards her. “She and her wife throw really great Christmas parties.”

That statement causes Carol to smile and start babbling about how hard her wife, Valkyrie, works to make sure their infamous Christmas party is successful. Wanda listens politely, stealing glances at Ms. Romanoff. 

Her posture is relaxed, her fingers playing with the end of the red rope Wanda had cut for her. There’s a small smile playing on her lips in an almost endearing way as she listens to Carol ramble. The stony expression she was wearing mere seconds ago is nowhere to be found, and Wanda hopes she’s right about what that could mean. 

Ms. Romanoff… jealous? No, possessive maybe? Fuck, that sounds hot. Wanda feels like banging her head against the cash register. 

“Anyways,” Carol says, seeming to realize how long she’s spent talking. “I won’t keep you waiting, I’m sure you’ve got a lot of work to do while you’re visiting! Is there anything else we can help you find today?”

“No, Wanda helped me find everything I need.” Ms. Romanoff says, her eyes flitting over to the younger woman.  

It sounds like there’s a double meaning to those words, but she can’t quite wrap her head around the potential secret meaning. Wanda chooses to simply smile at her, watching as the woman’s dark green eyes sparkle at the sight.

“Well, I’ll be in the back if you need anything. Nice to meet you, and have a good rest of your day!” Carol says, her smile wide as Ms. Romanoff nods at her. She practically skips towards the back office, leaving Wanda and the redhead alone with a weird, charged tension now coursing between them. 

Wanda swallows, steadying herself as she scans the items Ms. Romanoff has placed down on the counter. “Would you like a bag?”

“Please, Wanda.”

Her name rolls off the woman’s lips with the grace of an expensive, aged wine. The sound of it sends something heady and warm traveling down Wanda’s spine. She runs her tongue briefly over her lips, biting down on her bottom lip as she rings up the items and places them in a paper bag. 

Looking up, Wanda catches Ms. Romanoff’s eyes staring at her lips. The woman glances towards her eyes, before smirking as she hands Wanda a heavy, black credit card. 

“For the record,” she says, leaning in slightly as Wanda swipes the card. She still smells like cinnamon. It’s fucking intoxicating, and Wanda resists the urge to breathe in deeply. 

“As impressive as Ms. Bishop sounds, I’m glad that you were the one to interview me,” Ms. Romanoff murmurs. Her green eyes are darker, somehow. Her voice is slightly raspy, and it sends tingles down Wanda’s spine. “Remember, call or text before nine in the morning if you’d like to do the photo shoot.”

In the span of a few seconds, Ms. Romanoff straightened her back and casually grabbed the paper bag of supplies. Her tone is all business and Wanda blinks as she processes. God, it feels like she just got whiplash. 

“I hope to see you again, preferably tomorrow. You have my card,” she says, and smiles at Wanda. It's wider than the previous ones, the barest hint of white teeth showing through her lips. The sight of it causes yet another flush to rise to Wanda’s cheeks, and she wonders if she’ll ever stop blushing around the older woman. 

Ms. Romanoff gives her one last look, her eyes flitting down towards Wanda’s lips briefly before she turns towards the door and confidently strides towards the exit. Wanda lets her eyes linger on the way the older woman’s hips sway with each step, her bottom lip trapped tightly between her teeth. 

Fuck. Now she has to organize a whole photo shoot. Kate’s going to be thrilled, and Wanda is going to blush and stutter through the whole event. 

She sighs, and pulls out her phone to text Kate. She can do this, all she has to do is admire Ms. Romanoff from afar and remind herself that the woman’s presence in her town was simply a coincidence. Perfect, that’s a good plan. 

Then, Wanda’s brain helpfully reminds her of the way Ms. Romanoff’s eyes sparkled as she looked at her, and the way her lips quirked up slightly whenever she spoke. Wanda groaned, hitting send on her text to Kate and dropping her head into her hands. 

Why did Ms. Romanoff have to be so fucking attractive?

Next Chapter

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[nightxcreature]

Saucy Seduction

                Summary: Sam, Dean, and Reader head into a diner for a late-night snack, the waitresses there have never seen anyone so attractive.

                Word Count: 1177

                Warnings: Sexual Innuendos (because it’s me and I’m a little perv and I will not apologize)

                A/N: This one was inspired by the cheeseburger I ate this afternoon and then just went from there. Here’s a fun little fluffy piece for you. Enjoy!

                Snow flows in behind us as Sam, Dean, and I rush into the roadside diner, heat blasting the numbness from my cold fingers as soon as we step inside. I slide opposite Sam in a booth toward the back, snagging a menu from behind the napkin container while Dean checks out the juke box. A pretty waitress wanders over with silverware and a notepad to grab our drink orders, she smiles shyly at Sam, her brown hair helping to shield the blush staining her cheeks when he returns the smile.

                “Hi. My names Rachel, what’ll it be tonight?” She asks quietly, grabbing the pen from the apron around her waist.

                “Uh, I’ll just do a water and my brother….” AC/DC’s ‘Shoot to Thrill’ blasts through the juke box speakers cutting Sam off, breaking the silence in the room and causing Rachel to visibly jump.

                Dean slides into the seat next to me, placing an arm behind me and shooting the poor waitress a smile, “Sorry, Sweetheart. I’ll do a water, too, and the biggest burger you’ve got.”

                Her cheeks burn even redder as she writes down his order, “And anything for you?”

                “Just a water and a piece of double chocolate cake, if you’ve got any left.” I answer, sending a sympathetic smile her way and shaking my head as she heads toward the kitchen, “That Winchester Charm is coming in hot tonight, you two. Maybe reign it in a bit?”

                “All I did was smile at her.” They both exclaim, staring at me dumbfounded.

                “That’s all you have to do.” I retort, rolling my eyes and smiling again as a new waitress returns with our drinks.

                “Hi, my name’s Melanie.” She says with a charming smile, placing our waters down on the table. Her gaze drinks in the men before her, slowly trailing across the table from one brother to the other. She stops on Dean, a sweet smile on her face, “Our biggest burger is the Sweet Home Avocado burger, is that okay?”

                Dean scrunches up his nose, reaching a hand across the table to grab the menu next to me, “Avocado on a burger? That’s un-American. What else have ya got?”

                “I told Rachel she should’ve asked, but some people are just so uncomfortable getting to know someone new.” Rolling her eyes she leans closer, her chest almost touching his shoulder as she points to the menu, “Our best-selling burger is the Cheddar-Cheddar Bliss, but my favorite is the Saucy Seduction.”  She bites her lip and glances up at him from under her lashes. Dean’s face immediately turns a soft pink, and he slides a little further into the booth.

                He cuts his panicked eyes in my direction while Sam tries to hide his laugh as a cough, a slow smile crosses my face and I shrug, “You do like to be seduced.”        

Sam chokes on his water and the waitress glances confused between Dean and I before taking out her notepad, “So the Saucy Seduction then?”

“Uh, yeah. That’ll be fine.” He replies awkwardly, “Thanks.”

She jots down his order before placing a hand on his arm, “I’ll have that out to you in just a minute.”

She turns away, a slight swing in her hips as she struts toward the kitchen. Sam and I burst out in laughter at Dean’s red face. He scoots closer to me, pulling me into him with the arm behind me, “Does the arm around the girlfriend not mean anything anymore?”

“Did it ever mean anything to you before?”  I quirk a brow at his sheepish expression, “That’s what I thought.”

Loud laughter comes from behind the kitchen door causing us all to look up in the direction Melanie had swayed. Sam turns back to face us, placing a finger over his lips and smirking, “They’re talking about us.”

                I grin at Dean and we both lean across the table, his arm moving around my torso to pull me within earshot to the door and the frenzied girls behind it.

“I’m telling you those are the hottest guys I have ever seen, there’s no way that isn’t their sister.” One voice starts, causing my brows to rise and Dean to tense up, his hand rubbing soft circles on my hip, “I’m serious! She’s gotta be their sister.”

                Laughter erupts from behind the door again, and a new voice speaks up, “She’s too hot to be their sister. That many hot people cannot come from one family.”

                Dean visibly relaxes and sends me a little smirk, “You could be my stepsister…”

                I nudge his ribs and grin, “Want me to get stuck in the dryer, too?”

                His grin widens, but before he can respond Sam interjects, “Don’t answer that.”

                We quiet down again as another voice pipes in, “She could be their stepsister.”

I can’t help the loud laugh that leaves me, Sam and Dean following suit, causing the voices to stop immediately and the kitchen door to swing open. The original two waitresses pop out with a third one close behind, each sporting a crimson tint to their cheeks and carrying a tray with a single plate sitting in the middle. Another snort leaves me, and I have to stare out the window to keep calm as Dean squeezes my thigh in a silent command to keep quiet.

                “Here’s your food!” Melanie says sweetly, a nervous smile plastered on her face as she sets down the burger in front of Dean, “It may seem like overkill for all of us to be out here, but it’s a, uh, new policy.” She stutters out.

                I nod, trying to keep my features cool and failing miserably. Another laugh escapes me, and I quickly take my cake from the new waitress as Sam sends a chagrined expression to the three girls. The newest one looks like a deer caught in headlights as she stares at the three of us, her pink cheeks turning redder by the minute, “You’re, uh, you’re welcome.” She manages to get out before rushing after the other girls who are already giggling in the kitchen.

                Sam and I burst into another fit of laughter and I slide a spoon across the table to him before turning to face Dean who had already begun digging into the sandwich, sauce dripping down his hands, “I take it you’re feeling seduced?” I ask with a grin.

                Sam chuckles quietly until Dean sends a mischievous smirk my way, “I don’t know, do you know anyone who could dry some clothes for me?”

                “Oh, gross.” Sam groans, causing me to go into another fit of laughter, “You two disgust me.”  

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Tags: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @enigmalynne @envysarchive @k-slla

[hanlimz]

[midnight thoughts: jungwon + the sublime]

synopsis: after an arduous battle, jungwon isn't sure if he's going to make it, but he has to say something before he goes. pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader genre/warnings: spiderwon!au, angst with happy ending / mentions of blood, discussions of death, overall angsty themes but no one actually dies!, lots of confessions of love, and weird inclusion of "the sublime" bc we talked abt it in my eng class, also NOT proofread :,) wc: ~2.4k (haha OOPS) a/n: heyyyy how yall doin :))))) this has been sitting in my drafts forEVER ... and i finished it at 1am b4 my first day of school so be warned for inconsistencies / i liked the first half of this drabble but the second half is not my fave ,, so sorry that i couldn't do you justice spiderwon

yang jungwon never believed in the concept of the sublime. that uncanny mixture of overwhelming fear and unsettling fascination never managed to make an impression on him. especially in his line of work, jungwon is firm in his notion of death: when the time comes, a vast blackness will consume him; the void will leech away his life, and he will cease to exist. there will be no theatrics, no white light, no booming voice or angel song—only a comforting emptiness welcoming him into the dark.

now, however, jungwon lies alone in a familiar back alley; the tips of his fingers are numb from the amount of blood he's lost, and he can hardly lift his head up from the brick wall it's resting on. the palms of his hands are stained a deep crimson as he attempts to stop the river of red spilling from his thigh. jungwon admires the eerily beautiful way in which the body lets go; glinting in the dim street lights, his wounds glitter like rubies in a summer sunset. at this point, succumbing to his injuries seems inevitable, and jungwon thinks there may be some truth to be found in sublimity.

but, he's not ready to die. not yet—not with so many things left undone, so many things left unsaid.

with the little strength he has left, jungwon reaches for his backpack hidden in the nook behind the dumpster. he pulls out his phone and dials a number number he knows by heart; his cold fingers fumble over the screen, and he curses his current lack of dexterity. eventually, though, the machine begins to ring. the sound grates on his ears as he waits with bated breath for you to pick up.

"hello?" you croak, your question laden with sleep, "who is it?"

a breathy chuckle escapes jungwon's lips. he had forgotten how late it was, how you mentioned earlier that you had a calulus exam tomorrow, and just how gorgeous you sounded when you were tired. "sorry, [y/n] ... didn't mean to wake you," jungwon sighs, "just wanted to hear your voice."

"won, seriously?" you scoff, "this couldn't have waited 'til tomorrow? i mean, it's—it's two in the morning ... i was literally just dreaming about acing that calc test."

a dopey grin fastens itself to jungwon's lips as he wills his eyes to stay open. if he falls asleep, he knows there's a possibility that he won't get back up; so, he indulges for a bit, listening to your fatigued grumbling and smiling like an idiot. "honestly, m'not sure if tomorrow's in my cards, [y/n]," he admits, trying to hide how labored his breaths are becoming, "'nd i jus' wanted to hear you one last time."

"yang jungwon, what the hell are you—" jungwon knows exactly when you realize he's in trouble. he knows exactly when you realize he's not messing with you. the abrupt pause, the hitch in your breath, the way you inhale through your teeth—it's almost too obvious. "oh fuck," you continue, "oh shit ... won, where are you? are you hurt? what can i do to help?"

jungwon coughs out a laugh, "'m in the alley off jackson ave, 'nd i think i've bled on every piece of old furniture back here, if that says anything."

your breathing is frantic. jungwon listens to the sound of rustling clothes and the occasional thud of your foot as it hits your bed frame. you're cursing and mumbling and unravelling at the seams, searching for whatever you can that might help you help jungwon. out loud, you go through a list: gauze, neosporin, saline.

"am i missing anything?" you ask, not expecting a response.

"bandages?" jungwon replies.

"bandages!" you exclaim, "i almost forgot the fucking bandages?" there's more noise on the other side of the phone, and jungwon doesn't let himself relax until he hears your window crack open. metal clangs as you rush down the fire escape; he wills the beating of his heart to match the tempo of your feet against the steps. jungwon wills himself to stay alive. and, it's almost as though you can read his mind through the phone. "don't you dare fall asleep, yang jungwon. talk to me about something—anything—just don't fall asleep."

he racks his brain for a topic of conversation; the nerves building in his stomach as he anticipates next week's orgo exam, the cat he rescued from a tree in queensbridge park earlier today, the new thai restaurant that opened up near his apartment building. options race through his mind, but all of jungwon's thoughts lead back to you.

"i love you," jungwon says, abrupt yet resolute.

"oh god." you suck in an incredulous gasp, "you're delirious. this is—"

"i'm not delirious," he interrupts, voice hauntingly clear. "i know what i'm saying. and, i'm saying that i love you, [y/n] [l/n]."

for a moment, the line crackles with a thick, viscous silence that seeps through the grainy static; it's heavy, almost too real, and jungwon listens to the sound of your shoes slamming against the pavement until you speak again. "okay," you sigh, something unreadable swimming behind your words, "keep talking to me, jungwon."

jungwon takes in a deep breath before speaking again. his whole body is cold now, and if it weren't for the weakness spreading throughout his veins, he's positive his teeth would be chattering. inhaling the concoction of gasoline fumes, freshly dumped trash, and frigid, autumn air, jungwon feels the chill of the reaper creeping up the length of his spine. its spindly fingers beckon him into that same darkness he was once so sure of, once so okay with. but, jungwon can't let himself give in to its temptation. after all, he has someone waiting for him.

"you give me this feeling," jungwon declares in an inexplicable moment of lucidity, "'nd i dunno how to explain it. it's—it's like ... i look at you, and you pull me in. an invisible string, maybe? fate? true love? i'm—i have no idea what to call it. you always make me want to know more, even though i've known you forever. since we were kids, [y/n]—i've felt like this for years. and, i'm sorry. i'm sorry for not telling you earlier, for not telling you when i told you about the whole spiderman thing.

"i'm such an idiot for making you worry. someone who loves you shouldn't do that to you, i shouldn't do that to you. and, god [y/n]—i love you so much. you're this force of nature, you know? drawing me in, even though it's dangerous. and, even though i'm terrified of what the consequences might be, i love you so much that i'm afraid to die without saying it at least once.

"i'm—i'm so sorry for being so stupid, because—" jungwon whispers with a shaky voice, teetering on the edge of consciousness, "i love you, [y/n]. i love you."

jungwon's hearing is fading in and out, and his vision is growing blurry; but, the sounds of your footsteps accompanied by the incessant drone of his phone keeps him from slipping into that overwhelming darkness. you take in a sharp breath, and his head lolls in your direction. jungwon's lips are molded into a mindless, faraway smile; his eyes are misted over, foggy with both pain and fatigue. he's not all there, but he still manages to be cheerful. it astounds you.

rushing over to begin applying all the first aid supplies you managed to stuff into your backpack. wound-wash, gauze, bandage, wound-wash, gauze, bandage, wound-wash gauze bandage, wound-washgauzebandage. the sheer amount of blood that has been leeched from his body makes you dizzy; your head is spinning as you try to calculate just how many pints would be equal to what you've just sopped up. glancing up at your best friend (crush? lover?) you see that his eyes have drooped shut. his skin is pallid, his lips are pale, his neck is craned at an awkward angle as it rests on his shoulder. and, your heart stops because you didn't get to say it back.

"no. no, no, no ... won—jungwon, wake up!" a storm brews in your stomach. it starts as a mellow rain pattering against the lining of your intestines, then becomes a raging tempest as it bubbles up and out of your throat. "please, please, please! i got here in time, i swear—i never cared about the stupid, fucking calc test! i cared about you, i care about you! and, i'm here now, so you can't leave. you can't leave me."

an inhuman shriek claws through your lips, ricocheting against the brick walls that seem to be caving in around you; the weight of the world crashes into your frail shoulders, threatening to crush you. as you inch even closer to jungwon's shrouded figure, your pants are soaked through with a crude mixture of blood and rainwater. you reach out for him and cup his cheek with a trembling hand, and part of you swears his skin is still warm to the touch.

but, hope has no place here.

instead, you cradle his head and heave his body to rest against yours. he is astonishingly heavy; you can feel his muscles ripple beneath the tips of your fingers, but you're already convinced. your best friend is dead. slowly, the cement will absorb his heat, and he will grow cold. as the morning draws nigh, you will be forced to put his mask back on and leave him for someone else to find. then, the news articles will pour in, and the city will have stolen not only his life, but his death as well. tears are wetting his scalp as you bury your nose into his sweat-caked hair. you're gripping at his suit so hard you think the threads might snap, and the throbbing in your head is nothing compared to the agony in your heart.

the wailing doesn't stop until, in your peripherals, you see his finger twitch. sucking a staggering breath through his nose, jungwon cracks open a tired eye to gaze up at you. "i would—" he coughs out with a wince, "i would never leave you."

in your stupor, his voice doesn't register first. his mouth moves, but no sound escapes him; then, the words play over again in your mind while his lips remain closed. seconds melt into minutes, and you float away from your body. a numbness overtakes you as you stare at the scene before you from about five feet away; your fingers are still clutching at the suit fibers, the pajamas you chose earlier tonight are now saturated with blood, and jungwon is breathing. jungwon is breathing. jungwon is breathing.

snapping back into yourself, you place a weak hand on his chest. steadily, certainly—it rises and falls; the beating of his heart, though shallow and slow, thrums beneath your palm. shifting your stare to his face, you are greeted once again by a familiar, wry smile. jungwon is alive. despite all odds, the boy you love is alive; and, try as you might, you can't really help yourself.

"[y/n]?" he croaks, quirking the eyebrow above his less swollen eye, "can you hear—"

"i love you, too."

the utterance dangles precariously in the frigid midnight air. jungwon's lack of response causes your stomach to churn until he relexes further into your frame, huffing out a pained laugh. he lets himself rest for a moment, relishing in the warmth he manages to leech from your skin. "it wasn't ... wasn't supp—supposed to happen like this, you know?" jungwon protests, voice catching on his fatigue and discomfort. "i ... had everything planned—planned out."

"won, you don't—"

baring his teeth, he lifts a hand to hold the one you kept on his chest and barrels through your objection. "i was gonna take you to the met ... gonna take you for a pic—a picnic in central park." jungwon sputters, pressing his forehead against your upper arm, "then, we would swing ... back to your apartment. 'nd, i was gonna tell—tell you. tell you about how i feel."

still supporting his neck with your arm, you move to take his face in your palm once more. jungwon's gaze is sharper than it was just minutes ago—more focused, more alert. the emotions swirling in those deep pools of raw umber are more multitudinous than the stars they reflect. gratitude, torment, joy, defeat, love. bridging the gap that had separated the two of you for so long, you stop just shy of his lips. a dynamic heat emanates from them; jungwon is practically vibrating under your touch, living and breathing.

"are you okay?" you ask, "is this okay?"

jungwon answers by pushing himself up—closing the distance, sharing your breath, connecting your souls. salt and iron dance on his tongue as your tears mingle with his blood. it's a hypnotizing concoction—one that threatens to send him reeling, one that threatens to have him spinning out with no hope of return. fireworks explode behind his eyelids, a myriad of bright reds and vibrant oranges blinds him, and jungwon uses what is left of his strength to grip your wrist; he grounds himself and allows his lungs to burn as he breathes you in.

after a while, however, your parting is instinctual as the lack of oxygen forces you apart—two bodies trying to preserve themselves long enough to meet again. with a labored sigh, jungwon slumps backwards and tucks his chin to catch your gaze. in that moment, he finds himself frozen; his essence is suspended motionless, positively bewitched by you. in the silence, where all he can sense is you, jungwon embraces the ever-present warmth that has flourished within him. it floods his being with a terrifyingly powerful adoration for you. it is nothing like he has ever felt before, and though he is brave enough to confess, this extent of his love for you—it scares him.

however, as your skin glows in the light of the moon and your eyes pool with the desire for a future with him, jungwon digs his feet in and roots your love deep within his heart. he refuses to let this fear grow in its place; instead, he vows to nurture it, to care for it, to protect it. as he lies in your arms, jungwon rejects the sublime once more and chooses for himself.

"i love you, [y/n]," he whispers into your palm.

the world seems to go quiet as it listens for your response.

"i love you, too, jungwon."

[hwangswhore]

taken care of

pairing: hyunjin x f!reader

genre: smut (18+) mdni !

desc: hyunjin brings you some relief on your period.

content: period sex, mentions of blood & cramping/pain, aftercare, pet names.

ac: I’m getting my period so enjoy my brain rot :,)

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hyunjin could always tell when you were about to get your period.

the way your appetite either doubled or diminished, the way your skin flushed pink and the cute blemishes you’d get on your cheeks that you’d whine about, and the way you would hibernate under your fuzzy blanket while he read his books cuddled next to you.

but the biggest giveaway was the way your eyes glazed over with lust and need when you looked at him.

hyunjin knew you always experienced terrible cramps and that a good orgasm always brought you relief from your pain. which is why the second he came home and saw your glossy eyes, he was instantly on top of you.

“shhhh, ángel, it’s okay, I’m here.” he whispered in your ear as he left warm, wet kisses down your neck. no teasing tonight , he was gonna make sure you were taken care of.

he laid out a warm towel straight from the dryer to help with the blood and double as a heating element to soothe your back from the cramps. he started messaging your feet and working his way up your calves until he reached your thighs. he left little feathery kisses on your inner thighs right near your pussy as he started to rub you through your panties. you were breathing heavily and sighing out his name while he continued to get you ready for him.

“I know, lovely, I know. I’m gonna give my sweet girl exactly what she needs.” he said with a kiss to your forehead. he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom from the drawer, sliding it down his leaking cock.

that was one thing you didn’t know; hyunjin was just as needy as you.

though it may sound selfish, hyunjin secretly anticipated for your period to come. not because he wanted you to be in pain, no, he absolutely hates to see you suffer. but because he loved to take care of you.

he loved that he had the power to take your pain away. to bring you comfort and peace through his body. to make you feel so good.

he loved seeing you go from a needy mess to a state of bliss, sighing and softly gripping his hair while he thrusted into you slowly and gently, careful not to hurt you.

he loved being the one to make it all better.

he gripped his cock and started rubbing his shaft up and down your wet folds up to your clit, knowing how much you loved the sensation. he kissed your neck and whispered sweet praises in your ear to coax you into complete relaxation before sliding his length into you all in one go. you let out a soft moan at the feeling, already dizzy from pleasure.

“sweet baby…” he kissed your lips sweetly. “you’re so beautiful, always.” he thrusted into deeply and slowly ,helping you completely forget your pain. your walls ached so good from the way he filled you.

“hyune..” you sighed out, running your hands through his hair. he tried to suppress his moans from how good you felt. “I know angel…I’m gonna make you feel so light.” he stilled inside you before bringing his fingers to your clit and rubbing small circles on you. he kept himself buried inside you while rolling his hips to help you orgasm.

after less then a minute, your entire body was trembling with pleasure as you came around him. the sensation made him release inside the condom, pulling out of you after being buried in you and nuzzling into your neck for a good 10 minutes.

he noticed your eyes flutter shut immediately following your release. you were about to fall asleep any second, you always did after period sex with him. he had to make sure he cleaned you before you got too comfortable.

“here baby, let me help you first.” you whined in protest, wanting to drift away. but you knew he was right. though practically numb, you lifted your tired legs to give him better access to you. he wiped you down with the towel before throwing it in the hamper in your shared bedroom. he put a fresh pair of underwear on you, already attaching a pad inside it, before he cuddled with you.

“I love you angel.” he pressed a kiss to your lips. you mumbled a response before drifting off to sleep, safe and warm in his arms.

[writingcrustacean]

Kinda Cute

Pairings: Ace x Reader, Zoro x Reader

Content: Fluff. Gender neutral reader in mind.

Note: Am I making my first post- as in, first ever Tumblr post- a total shit shot? Yes, yes I am. Did I edit or review these at all? No, no I did not. But that's fiiiiiine. I haven't written much of anything in years, okay? It's just, these two boys just have me in a chokehold, and I love them. I promise I'm actually good at this shit, it's just 2:30 am and, again, haven't written in ages. So if it's bad and you read this, that's on you. Not me. Deal? Deal.

Zoro;

“Kinda cute.”

Those words were on repeat in his head, bouncing from wall to wall, echoing and silencing any other thought that could have existed. He had just woken up from one of many naps when you said those words to him the first time. His eye met yours, confirming that it was indeed meant for him. A slight upwards tilt to your lips and a sparkle in your eyes.

Fuck.

A rapid, onset blush kissed his tanned skin as he found himself unable to look away. You were quick to take it in, your smirk growing. You were teasing him, had to be.

It had been days since you first spoke those words to him, and you found every chance to repeat them- any chance to see his blush, truly. Your infatuation growing day by day, blush by blush. It was unfair, really. You were so smooth with your flirtations, so comfortable with turning Zoro into a stuttering mess. Normally so composed and in control, two words were enough to break him. He almost had enough of it, enough of the torture. But he couldn't deny it- he loved your attention. Secretly craved it, secretly wanted more. So much more. And he was about ready to go for it. If you could so easily make your interest known, so could he. Easy.

Right?

“I- d’you?” His face was hot, so hot. His mind was going blank, looking into your gaze.

You took a step closer, brows knitted together. The back of your hand gently met his forehead, an attempt at checking his temperature. “Ya okay, Zoro? Your fac-”

You were unceremoniously cut off as the swordsman slammed his lips against yours, his eye scrunched close. You could have giggled, would have, if he hadn't pulled you so close. And the electricity that shot through your body had both mind and body going numb. Your stiff shoulders and rigid posture caught his attention, a flicker of uncertainty and panic surging through his core. Fuck, he fucked up. Misread your teasing as flirting, thought you were dropping signals you weren't. He felt so stupid.

Slowly, you raised your hands. One on the side of his face, the other on his shoulder. His roughness met with a softness he hadn't expected, both blushes intensifying. 

Ace;

The squeal slipped past your lips, loud laughter shortly following. Soft, warm fingers left feather touches along your sides. Up and down, up and down. His touch taunted you, tickled you.

Minutes ago you were sleeping so peacefully, relaxed and warm in the arms of your lover. And at first, you barely noticed his touches, softly caressing any inch of skin he had access to. But then his hands ran along your sides, snapping into reality at that ever familiar sensation. The chuckle from behind you confirmed it was on purpose. You would have turned to look at him until he did it again. And again. You quickly decided rolling away was the better option, meeting the floor with a rather solid “thunk” as you let out a loud huff. “Ace!” You whined up at him, pout ever evident in the tone of your voice- a failed attempt at hiding your amusement.

His freckles, black eyes and hair were soon hovering over the edge of the bed. His wild grin lit up his face as he drank in your appearance. Lips in a pout, eyes wide and glistening. “Heh, kinda cute.”

You exaggerated your eye roll, yet your lips began to curl into a grin at the compliment. As much as you hated admitting it, you wouldn't mind being woken up like that any day of the week. So long as it was him, with his warm smile and loving gaze. Unfortunately for you, he knew that. Knew just what effect he had on you and how hard it was for you to be mad at him.

[certifiedsexed]

me and my girlfriend have been slightly sexually active before and I’ve kinda found out that I don’t physically feel certain stimulation?

for a little more context, I’m transmasc and a teen. I haven’t transitioned medically or done any sort of hormones other than birth control. She’s a teen as well and it’s been fully consensual (I feel that this is important)

I’ve noticed that it doesn’t feel very good to touch my chest although it does for her, I’ve noticed that I can’t really grind or be fingered with pleasure. Close to nothing feels actually good. I don’t know if there’s something wrong with my body, or if I’m just not turned on enough? I am ace but I don’t know the extent.

is there something wrong or is it just normal? I have no idea

Okay! So, the first part about your chest: very normal. The sensitivity of people's chest really varies from person-to-person. Some people hate having their chests touched, other people can orgasm from it! The spectrum is broad.

Grinding also varies. Especially depending on if you're using lube and how exposed your genitals are. [For example, if you have a clitoris, sometimes they're small and not very exposed and that can make grinding less pleasurable!]

Fingering can also vary, though I'd note if it hurts or if you feel genuinely numb to it, that's a health concern.

But I don't know whether there's something wrong here-Especially when you're new to sexual experimentation, I don't like to say there's definitely something wrong, especially if you're not experiencing pain.

A better way to tell if there's an issue with your sexual function is testing your genitals. Does touching your genitals feel good at all? Is there a numbness? Can you orgasm? Is orgasming easy or hard for you?

See, if you have a clitoris [You didn't mention, so sorry if I'm making assumptions], most people with clitoris' need clitoral stimulation to orgasm. Its also a huge pleasure center. You might need to focus more on that!

It could also be a sexual function issue that you'd need to bring up to a doctor and/or a therapist. [It could even be caused by your birth control. Sometimes they mess with libido and general sexual function.]

It could also be a dysphoria thing! If you have dysphoria, it can cause things like this too!

I can't tell you if something is wrong without more information but I hope something here helps! Let me know if you have any more questions. <3

[xiouahh]

☆ numb ─ 06.　overwhelmed

" [full name]! What is this on your test paper?! " The voice cuts through the silence like a blade. It’s the same voice that used to murmur lullabies in the dark, to hold you close when nightmares lurked. But now, every note of it drips with a resentment that clings, cold and suffocating. " But, Mom! I did well, didn’t I? I got a high grade—only three wrong answers— " Your words crumble as her hand connects with your cheek, sharp and unforgiving. The sting spreads through your skin, a bitter reminder that nothing you do is ever enough. You’re good, but never good enough. " You're a disappointment to this family, " she hisses, each word like poison slipping into your veins. " Is a perfect score too much to ask? Is it so impossible to make us proud? " You dare not meet her eyes; the shame burns hotter than the pain in your cheek. " I gave you everything, " she whispers, her voice shaking. " And this is how you repay me? With mediocrity? " You stand there, silent and small, too afraid to cry, knowing the punishment for weakness is yet more scorn. Silence stretches, thick and heavy, until she finally sighs, a sound full of pity and contempt. " What would your father say, if he were here to see this? I’m just trying to make a good future for you. " She reaches out, fingers ghosting over the mark on your cheek, soft and almost loving. " I just want you to succeed, " she says, the smile on her lips brittle and unconvincing. " You’ll do that for me, won’t you? You’ll be the child I worked so hard for? " You nod, throat tight, the wordless answer she expects, even as something inside you shatters. Her smile fades, and her face twists into something dark and sorrowful. " This is my fault, isn’t it? I failed you. I’m a terrible mother. " Her voice is soft now, pulling you into a new kind of pain. You feel the weight of her regret, sharp and heavy, threatening to crush you. " No, Mom, don’t say that! " You reach out, clinging to her, desperate to make it better, to prove you’re worthy of the love she so rarely shows. " You’re not a bad mother—it’s my fault. I’m the one who’s sorry. " " I’ll do better on the next test! " You plead, voice trembling, desperate. " I’ll get the perfect score, I’ll study harder. It’s my fault for not being enough. " A sob rises from somewhere deep within, raw and helpless, as you force yourself to promise again and again. " I’ll be successful, Mom. I’ll make you proud. I swear. " .. .. You wake up with a start, realizing you must have dozed off while studying. The remnants of a memory linger in your mind—the one where you were the one comforting her. How ironic it is that the child comforts the parent instead of the other way around. You sigh, pressing a hand to your forehead as the familiar pressure of unfinished work settles on you again. You have to ace these exams. No—need to. You can’t let her down, not after everything. And your dad, too. You remember the promise you made before he passed, the one your mom made you tell him: that you’d make them both proud, no matter the cost. Glancing around, you notice the mess piling up in your room. It’s chaos. She’ll be furious if she comes home and sees it like this. But right now, the thought of fixing it, of handling any of it, is just too much. You can’t keep doing this. The pressure is suffocating. In a rush, you grab your phone and open Ayaka’s contact, desperate for some support.

masterlist　|　previous　|　next

SYPNOSIS.　You had always been the independent, strong-willed person who didn't need anyone's help. Despite your best efforts, your trauma continues to plague you, making it difficult for you to trust and connect with others. That is, until you meet a young man who is everything you've wanted in a partner. Despite his aloof demeanor, he manages to break your emotional barriers and become a source of healing and support for you. As you learn to trust and open up to him, he becomes the healer of your heart, helping you heal from your trauma. AUTHOR.　Genuinely why is the last pic so blurry. I'VE BEEN TRYING TO FIX IT FOR THE PAST FEW MINUTES BUT IT WON'T COOPERATE?? But anyway.. Do people actually read author notes? I'm so curious, plz tell me. I will literally yap abt my whole day here. ++ I might redo the taglist since I noticed most people aren't getting tagged ! TAGLIST.　 @arlecchino-soon-main @skyoverkill1 @yo0ngleswag @scaraenthusiast1 @skyvella @lloovvv @ciellez @asukahiriko2 @trulyylee @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @animeobsessed56 @exhaustedcommunist @meigalaxy @dragontammerz @heusalettle @iloveapplepie7 @vitanye @shyentsmissingink @jiminscarmex @vixialuvs @kunikissr @rishaling @liuaneee

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 10

Source for pic

Firestarter 10

Word Count: 6335

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: This chapter was a rollercoaster of emotions! But now we're only missing the epilogue with our happy ending 😊 I will be posting the new poll (for voting on the next story of the meet-cute series) this week! Also, if you want to check out my 100 followers event, feel free to do it! Full disclosure, answers to requests may take a while! Thank you for reading this! ❤️

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter| | |Final Chapter|

Ace sets his phone down but keeps staring at it. He has a silly little grin on his lips though his eyes are furrowed with apprehension. They're enjoying a tiny break at the fire station, after helping clear the gutters that were blocking the water from flowing freely. 

All the firemen are on standby, waiting for the storm to pass and hoping for a calmer evening. 

Luffy pats Ace on the shoulder with a small smile curling his lips. “What's with the face?”

Ace sighs as he whispers your name, his fingers tousling his hair. “She managed to get a call through and though I barely heard her, she said she was coming over. And that she loves me.”

Ace can't stop a grin from pulling the ends of his lips and Luffy is smiling with him. “But that's good, right? Why do you look worried?”

“I really didn't want her driving in this weather.”

Luffy hums and nods, his eyes darting to the large windows where fat drops of rain pound incessantly. “She'll be fine, Ace! Don't worry!” He pats Ace on the back again while getting up. “Want the last slice of pizza?

And suddenly they're both fighting for the slice, Ace trying to forget that you're driving along dangerous roads and Luffy helping him do it.

-*-

The ring from the station’s phone is shrill and piercing. Ace jumps before picking it up. He's been watching the time and you were supposed to have arrived already. He can't stop the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. 

“Hello, go for Ace.” Even his normal greeting seems strained. 

“Ace, hi! It's Marco.” The older man has an urgency in his tone and Ace snaps in his seat, nudging Luffy as he sets the call on speaker. The connection still feels broken and with a lot of static, but he can make out the words. “There's been an accident at the intersection before the turn to the road that leads to the fire station. I don't know how long, but the car seems to have rolled over at least once. There's a girl inside and she's unresponsive. I didn't touch her but there's a lot of blood-...”

Ace scrapes his chair against the floor as he gets up, not even letting Marco finish the call. His heart is pounding against his chest relentlessly. In his head an unending litany set on repeat: no, no, no, please God, no! 

He feels cold and numb and he doesn't wait for his fellow fireman nor for the truck. He grabs his jeep keys and slides down the pole, running, not answering Luffy’s calls, not hearing anything else but the pounding of his heart in his ears. 

No, no, no, please God, no! 

-*-

When you entered Shanks’ house, a smile on your lips, calling for daddy, he felt a pang in his heart. You had grown up into a fine, beautiful woman. The burn of desire tingled and Ace knew he wanted you. 

He wanted you badly. 

But you were Shanks’ daughter, Luffy’s friend. Off-limits for his little one-night stands. It was okay, he could admire you from afar. 

It got a little harder when you stopped on the stairs and his nose rubbed against your ass. It got even harder once he found your vibrator. God, not even ten minutes had passed since you had entered your home and already he knew you would be the death of him. 

Learning that you were cheated on was like a punch to the gut. After what had happened to you and, as soon as you heard of his reputation, you would never trust him enough to let him get close to you. 

But it was fine. He just wanted to be friends. You were off-limits. 

-*- 

Ace closes the jeep door with a bang and turns the ignition, the windshield wipers swiping into action instantly as the rain keeps its downpour. It's not supposed to be dark yet, but the storm makes everything bleak and grey. 

And he's so afraid. 

It can't be you. It's not you. He's going to help whoever this person is and then he's going to find out that you never left home because your car didn't start. And you just couldn't contact him because of the lines. 

That is it. It isn't you. It can't be you. 

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

When you called Shanks because your car wouldn't start, Ace immediately offered to pick you up. Shanks looked at him with a sidelong glance, especially after the battery remark he made to you. As if an older man wasn't aware of toys. 

“Freaking kids think they know everything.” 

But then he agreed, simply because he had a lot of work to do on the property and picking you up would interfere with his plans. 

And the sight of you bending over the hood of your car in that little dress, leaving the lowest part of your butt cheeks exposed, almost gave him a heart attack. Damn, how could you be so cute without even trying? That was what made you even more alluring to him. He couldn't stop the flirty remarks from slipping out of his mouth and seeing you flustered was just the icing on the cake. 

That car almost hitting you had made his heart jump into his throat. What a freaking reckless driver. He barely noticed that he had pulled you into a tight hug, gripping you as if he were about to lose you. 

Except Ace, true to his nature, couldn't help but flirt with the girls who called for his attention. He thrived on attention, he knew that it was a terrible fault. 

One of many. 

And if at first he didn't realise why you had suddenly become so pissed at him and his behaviour, as soon as you snapped it hit him. And you were right. He gave those nicknames to girls because it was easier. He wouldn't get attached this way. He never meant to get attached. 

But you… 

Damn you were built differently. And he had to stop thinking about you like that. Because you deserved much better than a good-for-nothing man like him. 

-*-

He knows he can't go over the limit. He's a firefighter. He knows the risks and the roads are like butter. 

Yet he can't stop his foot from pressing on the accelerator. Even though he knows it can't be you. It really can't. 

You said you loved him. He needs to let you know he feels the same. 

It can't be you.

“Fuck!” He growls as his hand hits the steering wheel and his foot presses down further. 

As soon as his eyes spot the crashed car, his heart sinks and his breath catches in his throat. 

It's your car. 

-*-

The first time you exchanged messages he had the silliest grin pulling at his lips. You were actually responding to his flirts and, for some otherworldly reason, you apologised to him. 

He didn't really think you needed to apologise, but if you were being nice to him, he wasn't going to deny you anything. 

He craved to see you, to hear you, to touch you. 

You wouldn't believe how happily surprised he was when he saw you on your morning run. Obviously he had to tease you, taunt you into a little bet. 

Winning a kiss was a long shot. He made the pitch but didn't expect you to accept at all. When you did, he almost wanted to sprint so he could win right away. But he managed to keep his cool. 

Barely. 

When you tripped and Ace grabbed you, he felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was the way you smelled. Like some sort of flowers - from your shampoo, probably - and the natural tanginess of your sweat. It beckoned to him, leaving him breathless and dazed. 

It also didn't help that you were flush against him, your breasts heaving as your chest pressed against his. It filled his head with lewd thoughts and suddenly all he wanted was to have you squirming beneath him, panting for a whole different reason, sweating from ecstasy and not effort. 

It was a good thing you were distracted and didn't notice the hunger in his eyes, because he would have devoured you right there. 

When the time for the kiss neared and he had you pinned against the fence, his eyes darkened at the sight of your parted lips and the way you gasped slightly as he lifted your chin with two fingers. It took all the self-control he possessed to turn his face at the last possible second so that his kiss landed mostly on your cheek. 

His heart thumped like a drum against his chest and, for once, he was glad he listened to his brain instead of his urges. Otherwise it would have been very hard to stop at just a kiss. 

And he had to keep reminding himself that you were off-limits. That he couldn't treat you as a one-night stand. 

Even though he was starting to realise that you might be more than just a one-night stand. 

-*-

Ace has enough judgement to park the car on the side of the road with the blinkers on to prevent further accidents, yet he sprints out in a rush, completely ignoring Marco as he approaches you. 

The unending litany of ‘No, no, no, please God, no!’ keeps leaving his lips as if it were a prayer. 

As soon as his eyes meet your face, tears start to mingle with the heavy rain pouring down. Through the broken window he realises that the airbags have deployed and are now deflated and you are slumped over the steering wheel. Your face is covered in blood from a cut on your forehead and there are shards of glass on your arms. Your side of the car is crumpled from the impact and, as he tries the door, he finds that it's jammed. 

Worse, you're unconscious. 

His hand reaches in as he checks you and he almost freezes in place. You're not breathing. 

“I'm here, babe. I've got you. I've got you.” He murmurs the words to you and keeps repeating another set in his head:

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

Ace couldn't get you out of his head. He tried to distract himself with music, movies, even a book! Yet he kept thinking about your body close to his, your parted, panting lips and the way your eyes fluttered closed before he approached you. His body betrayed him and he kept thinking about the way your lips would feel against his, or how your skin would mould so well against his fingers. 

He needed to be with you. 

Even if it was just to see you, talk with you and spend time breathing the same air as you. He felt as if he was going crazy. He knew how desire felt, he had wanted other girls before - normally fulfilling that need quickly - but with you, he began to understand that it was deeper than just urges that needed to be met. 

So when you knocked on the fire station door, he was set on talking with you, opening himself up and listening to what you had to say. Create a friendship. A steady base to build trust upon. He could do that. He knew he was a good friend. 

He just wasn't expecting to see you looking like that when he opened the door. Thighs exposed, just a little, a cheeky grin on your lips and your smell, God, your smell. It had been years since he had been this nervous around a girl. 

You did something to him that he couldn't quite explain. 

Especially to his heart. Should he see Law at the clinic about it? It had been beating strangely for a while. 

Deuce behaved like an idiot, as usual, and insisted on seeing you, which made Ace jealous. Curious. He was not usually the jealous type. Mainly because he was never with a girl long enough to be jealous of her being around other guys, or because, even if she did, he wasn't interested enough to be jealous. 

Except with you… Damn… he felt a strange burning flame inside him roar to life. It was as if he wanted to keep you forever, to make you his. 

-*-

Ace runs to the passenger’s side of the car and tries the door, cursing loudly when it doesn't budge. Using his elbow and not caring one bit about getting cut, he shatters the glass, taking care to do it gently so as not to hit you with more shards. Reaching in with trembling hands, he unlocks the door and climbs inside. 

“I'm here love. I'm here. You're going to be fine. I'll get you out.” He keeps murmuring. 

His fireman training does not fail him as removes the seat belt and carefully manoeuvres you out of the car, gentle hands supporting your head and neck, trying to hurry, but doing everything in his power to be careful. 

“There, see, we're out. Come on baby. Breathe for me.”

He sets you down on the wet, muddy road and tilts your head back to clear your airways, his fingers pressing gently against your face. Your skin feels cold and clammy to the touch and his tears keep falling and mingling helplessly with the rain. 

No, no, no, please God, no!

“Breathe, baby!” He pinches your nose as he leans down and huffs two breaths into your unmoving lungs. 

Nothing. 

A ragged sob makes his shoulders heave before he places his hands against your chest and starts CPR. 

“You can't leave me now!” He whispers your name. “Fight!”

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

The day after your visit to the fire station had Ace walking on cloud nine. When he took girls to the station, it was not just for talking. Never just for that. 

Let alone speak about his worries and how he feels regarding his grandfather. Yet, with you, it felt natural, easy, nice. He wanted to get to know you and wanted you to get to know all of him. 

So he couldn't stop his silly grin from making his freckles dance. 

Not even when his grandfather asked him why he was behaving so foolishly. He kept raving about you, how you'd grown up, how interesting you were, how happy you made him feel. 

Garp was grinning and shaking his head by the end of lunch, calling him a lovesick fool, and it took him a while to realise that he might be becoming just that. Because he didn't remember feeling this way about any girl. Ever. 

Even Garp’s cleaning lady noticed the way he was acting when she was cleaning his room, a mocking smile on her face as she closed the curtains of his room, to keep the afternoon sun out, after finishing. 

He kept wanting to talk to you, but you took so long to answer his texts that he thought he had done something wrong. Again. When you finally reached out, he had to hear your voice. And he ended up talking with you until dinner time. Time flew when he was spending it with you. And he'd be damned if he wanted it to end. 

At the party he was very excited to see you. His heart kept thrumming against his chest as if he were some lovesick teenager and he had to ask Sanji to make him an extra strong drink because he was nervous to see you. 

As it turned out, you ended up drinking his drink and a whole bottle by yourself, as if you were trying hard to get wasted, only he didn't know why. But you looked wonderful in that tight red dress. More than wonderful, actually. You were breathtaking. And he had to keep telling his and Luffy's friends that you were off-limits.

Even to himself. 

He needed a constant reminder of that important fact as well. But it was damn hard to restrain himself once he took you away from the party to nurse your drunken self, and you sat on his lap and told him to kiss you. To have you. To fuck you. 

He didn't know how he managed to do it or where he found the strength or willpower, but he pushed you away from him. With his heart hammering, cock twitching and lips tingling to taste every inch of you. 

But not like this. 

He wanted to have you, he couldn't wait to hear your pretty voice moaning his name or how melodic your mewls and sighs would sound in the throes of pleasure. How you'd writhe and squirm under his touch or how you'd beg for him when he teased you. 

But you were drunk. It wasn’t okay. 

And after he put you to sleep and the party lulled and ended in the wee hours of the night, he returned to his room, having declined advances from many pretty girls, like he had been doing since you had crashed into his life unannounced but not at all unwanted. He watched your sleeping form for who knew how long, before his eyes grew drowsy and he fell asleep on the floor, close to you. Hearing you breathe, sensing your presence and smelling your scent. A scent you'd leave on his sheets for days that were bound to give him the best and most tortuous dreams of his life. 

How he wished he could wrap his arms around you. 

The harsh reality came crashing down - literally - on him in the morning and with you straddling him. Barely having a sense of what was going on, having just woken up, the first thing he realised was that you were squirming and grinding against his cock which was hard already because he couldn't quite discern if this was a dream or reality. 

Begging you to stop squirming and digging his fingers deep into the flesh of your hips grounded him. It was reality. And by heaven above, you on top of him, looking all flustered and dishevelled, as if you'd just ended a steamy makeout session, had him seeing white as he gripped you hard to avoid losing control and kissing you. You were so fucking perfect. 

And then you told him: ‘don't do that’, which he immediately thought that you were talking about the kiss that he wanted to give you, so he got up. Upset, frustrated and hit hard by the reality of the situation. 

You'd never think of him as more than a friend. You'd never trust him enough to realise you were special to him. 

More than just any girl. 

You were the girl. 

-*-

Ace keeps counting aloud, forcing the words out of his mouth to stay in control. Begging for his training to ground him, before he loses himself in agony and pain. 

“One, two, three…”

Two breaths of air straight into your lungs, another moment to see if your chest moves. 

Nothing. 

Desperation sinks in and makes his hands tremble. The cold rain is relentless against his skin and yours, turning everything bleak and sorrowful. 

“Baby, please, please! Breathe!”

He continues administering CPR, his own breath coming in short gasps as tears and ragged sobs make his shoulders heave and shake. 

“Come back to me…” He mutters to the wind, hoping that, wherever you are, his words can reach you.

-*-

Ace's day hadn't started well after that debacle, but that all changed when he saw you by the window, clad in nothing but a very small towel. You apologised for your behaviour over the phone and his heart sank further. 

As if it could be any more obvious that you did not want to be with him. You had the perfect excuse: alcohol. 

Yet, he could hardly be upset with you when you spoke in your sweet voice telling him you liked that he called you Firestarter. It made his stomach somersault and his heart skip a beat. So much so that he decided to make plans to meet at the Jubilee. Because he couldn't wait to see you again. 

He needed to be near you. That much he had made peace with. 

Now he just needed to prove that he could be good for you, that he could help you heal, and that you two could work as a couple. 

Easier said than done, really.

He had been selling calendars for a while at the Jubilee, making small talk with girls who approached the stand giggling, interacting with friends and acquaintances and even entertaining some kids who wanted to try on the fireman’s equipment. 

Yet, his peripheral vision had been on alert since dinner time - the time you told him you would come by - and, as soon as he spotted you, he grinned and told Luffy and his coworkers that he was going on his break.

The opportunity to show you how he felt about you presented itself earlier than expected. As he held you in his arms, faces inching closer together and his heart beating relentlessly, creating a savage rhythm against his chest, he knew his kiss would show you just how perfect you could be together.

Except the kiss never happened. And Ace wanted to kill Deuce for ruining a perfect moment. Because when you both settled down by the swings and he opened up his heart a little bit, you shut him down by repeating that you’re good friends and that your friendship was important, coldly and harshly reminding him that that’s all you’ll ever be.

Friends.

He was ready to call it a night and didn't want to bother you with his presence anymore because he was being a sourpuss. And it wasn’t your fault! If you were not ready to commit - or didn't want to commit to him - he needed to understand that. And fucking move on.

Yet even if he was done with the night, the night was not done with him, and duty called as he saved a girl from a falling stand. She thanked him, flirted with him, and even slipped him her number with an offer to buy him a drink. 

But you made such a ruckus that his eyes wandered to you and he found himself smiling and realising that if you just wanted to be friends, he was fine with it. He would much rather have that, than not have you at all.

So he politely declined the invitation for a drink by the beautiful lady - told her that they definitely should do that, but some other time - and sauntered over to your clumsy side, seeing you try and pick up the mess you made out of Makino’s jewellery stand.

Your playful banter was back on track and it was like your miscommunication issues had never really happened. He was fine with you just being friends. Perfectly fine. Even if he had to repeat it to himself over and over again. 

The matching bracelets were just a nice addition to your friendship, even if Makino was making it look like it was something more. And, to be truthful, he found your embarrassed smile and demeanour quite endearing and adorable. 

Until the beautiful girl from earlier approached with that drink offer again. 

And you bolted out of there as quickly as lightning, giving all sorts of mixed signals, because if you just wanted to be friends, why would you be saddened by him hanging out with another girl?

He saw your tears. 

And they troubled him.

-*-

Ace faintly hears the sirens of the fire truck approaching. The storm feeds a distant roar of noise to his eardrums, but the ringing from the shock and despair is what prevails above the noise.

He just wants to hear you breathing.

That’s the sound he wants - needs! - to hear the most. A gasp, a sigh, a cough… he’ll take anything! As long as you come back to him.

“One… two… three…”

Another two breaths of air to revive your lungs, more compressions, more prayers, more whispers, more tears…

He would give all of himself - everything! - if it got you to come back.

“Don’t leave me, love. Don’t leave me…”

-*-

Ace always enjoyed beach parties in the summer. Spirits were high, people were cheerful, and there was always more than one girl willing to go somewhere else with him. Somewhere away from the party where they could have fun.

This party, though, he expected to be different. 

He couldn't help but try his luck with you again. Maybe if he kept hanging around you, you could start to see him as more than just a friend. Heaven knew that you two shared the sexual tension of an uncut red wire in a spy movie: just ready to explode at any given moment. 

He knew he could be smooth, suave, and charm his way into your heart. Even if it took you a while, he was willing to wait. Now that he'd found you, he was not so willing to lose you.

But none of the smoothness of the universe, nor all the charm in the world, could have prepared him for the vision of loveliness that you provided. Lulled by the soft splashes of the waves and the echoing calls of gulls, you stood at the edge of the ocean, sunbathed and glowing as if you were something out of a myth. Your hair blew in the wind and your eyes were closed, keeping out all the chaos of the outside world and losing yourself inside your mind.

A silent tear escaped your closed eyelids and a soft smile plastered upon your lips. He would take this sight with him to the grave because he had never seen anything - or anyone - so perfect.

He almost felt out of place as he called your name, slowly waking you to the reality of the party and his company. But he felt entirely whole when you grabbed his hand and watched the sunset by his side.

You belonged together. He knew that. And he fought hard against the urge to pull you close.

The perfect moment ended too soon and the party continued. He kept being requested by friends, and girls and more friends and once he made his way back to you, he was already a bit tipsy and you seemed more than upset with him.

Plus, you didn’t even have the matching bracelet he bought you.

Not only was he jealous of Sanji and the smiles you shared with the blonde, but he was once again reminded that he meant nothing to you, as you slithered out of his embrace, albeit with a lot of rubbing and sinful looks, but not one single sympathetic glance his way. You were pissed.

At him.

And that was perfectly clear once he saw that bastard Lucci rubbing against you at the dance floor. Jealousy took over, and he decided to pay you back in kind, not knowing if you would really care, but he couldn’t sit still and watch another guy flirt with you.

It was driving him insane.

Obviously Nami knew all the right ways to rile people up, and soon enough he was kissing one of the girls at a game of truth or dare. She was annoying, clingy, had a shrill voice, smelled of tobacco and felt so wrong against him. But you were busy as Lucci was whispering into your ear, so he had to keep up the facade. 

Until he couldn’t any more. Because when Nami dared you to kiss Lucci and you acquiesced - oh, look at that, you actually had the bracelet, it was just him that wasn't good enough to touch you - the fire in his belly roared and ignited into a hellish flame and he couldn’t take it anymore.

So he left to vent. He didn’t even care if you went home with Lucci.

Liar. 

He cared, obviously. It would kill him and tear his heart into tiny, irreplaceable pieces. But he was just a friend to you. Right?

Maybe not, because you came after him, arguing as if you were two crossed lovers, seeing who could scream louder and who was pettier. Until he spoke aloud about the desire he felt to kiss you. And you dared him to.

Time stood still and there was only you and him. You in his arms and his lips on yours. Tongues swirling as hot kisses ignited the embers of passion. Fuck, he had never felt like this. You were consuming his very being and he wanted to burst into ashes and disappear into your kisses. 

This was perfect. You were perfect. You and him together were perfect.

And how he hoped nothing could ruin it. 

Until it did.

-*-

As soon as the fire truck stops, its sirens blaring, and lights casting reflections against the puddles on the floor, Luffy rushes to Ace’s side, his expression turning into pained surprise once he sees you breathless and looking quite frail in his brother’s arms.

“Ace!” He manages to sputter, a distressed wail escaping his lips.

“One… two… three…” Two breaths. Nothing. “Luffy! The EMTs?” He doesn’t stop. He never stops.

“They were right behind, they should be here any second… Ace…”

Luffy sets a hand on Ace’s shoulder and squeezes. But Ace doesn’t want to stop. He won’t give up on you. Not now, not ever! You were so hard to win over, he’s not a quitter! He will never quit on you. Ever!

“Come back, Firestarter. I need you…”

-*-

He was never a quitter, so he didn’t stop calling and texting you, trying to reach you after that disaster at the beach party. He didn’t want to be with any other girl. He just wanted you. Always you.

So he didn’t quit.

He called Shanks and asked about you, if you were alright, if you could call him back, but when Shanks told him that you didn’t want to speak with him and told him to go to hell, he faltered. He thought about quitting.

You were so pissed at him.

Would you even listen to what he wanted to say? He knew apologies wouldn’t cut it, but he had to try. He couldn’t bear the thought of you hating him, or shutting him out. Of never wanting to speak to him again, for how could he live without your voice, your smile, your laughter?

He’d had a taste of you. He was addicted. He would never give you up.

Going by Shanks’ house might not have been his brightest idea, but it was the best he could come up with since you didn’t want to talk to him and had been avoiding him all day. When Shanks told him you still didn’t want to see him, he saw red. How could he make it up to you?

To help with the racking guilt and despair, Shanks was also pissed at him for hurting his babygirl. Like he would ever do that willingly. It took Ace a while, but he managed to clear the facts with Shanks and to assure him that his intentions towards you were the most honourable ones. 

He loved you. And he told Shanks that. He told him he had never, ever, felt this way about a girl before and, after some coaxing, Shanks finally believed his words. He even said he would try to plead his case. 

Which was true, because after a few hours he called Ace saying you were stranded in the middle of nowhere and you needed a ride. Then he gave Ace a full speech on responsibility and treating his little girl right and a bunch of other stuff Ace didn’t really listen to.

All he knew was that he had his chance to apologise. To make it right. To win you over.

And he’d be damned if he let that go.

So you talked, he apologised, you heard him and asked questions and he could feel you softening to him and getting closer to him. He had his shot at you. He wouldn’t miss it. 

And he didn’t. The night was perfect, you were perfect and, once again, he was reminded that together you were perfect. You made him promise not to break your heart. Hell, he didn’t even think about that. He never wanted to let you away from his arms, from his lips or from his touch. Let alone drive you away for something random. 

He was yours and you were his, in the sense that he knew he couldn’t live without you by his side, nor did he want to spend a day without your voice, or your smile or hearing your breath. 

Eternity. That’s what he would like. An eternity with you.

Was it possible?

-*-

“No, no, no! This is impossible, it can’t be happening! Loof, where are the EMTs!?” Ace’s desperate voice is charged with agony and despair, rubbing it off on his brother who has kneeled down next to you and taken over chest compressions for Ace.

As if answering his own question, an ambulance screeches to a halt next to the fire truck, and two EMTs rush out, gear in hand, and make their way to your side. 

“Ace, she’s drenched. They can’t use the defibrillator like this. We need to move her inside the ambulance.”

“Fuck!” Ace curses, his frustration palpable as he continues performing CPR. He never stops, he can’t stop.

-*-

Your voice was so sweet beneath him, asking him not to stop, to go harder, to give you more, please, please, please.

Your mewls and pleas, your body writhing with passion and desire, your little gasps and beads of sweat glistening between your breasts.

God.

He couldn't get enough of you. You were so addictive.

He didn't want to let you go. Ever. 

-*-

The EMTs transfer you to a gurney with the help of Ace and Luffy and quickly move you inside the ambulance. Ace feels an icy chill, and he knows it’s not from the relentless pouring rain.

He’s scared. He’s terrified. 

He doesn’t want to lose you. He never wants to let you go.

-*-

Somehow the bliss that had surrounded you both fell apart quickly and Ace’s left to wonder what happened. You were having the sweetest of dates and the ending would promise so much more. He was ready to tell you he loved you.

He didn’t even care if it was too soon.

All he knew was that he was bursting at the seams with feelings of yearning, longing, passion, desire and so much love. He needed to tell you. Even if you didn’t feel the same yet. He was willing to wait.

He would move mountains for you.

You were worth the wait.

-*-

The wait seems endless. The EMTs are cleaning your chest as best as they can before applying the defibrillator. Seconds tick by relentlessly.

Realistically, Ace knows that he’s only been performing CPR on you for around five minutes before the EMTs arrived. He knows it seems like it was much longer, but it wasn’t. 

What he doesn’t know, however, is how long you stood without breathing in your wrecked car. And that can improve or impair your odds significantly.

And Ace, despite his name, has never had much luck with gambling.

-*-

He hated games of chance. Whatever he betted on, he always ended up losing more than he gained. And now he was so afraid that his loss would be the biggest one yet. And the hardest one to recover from. 

You needed time to process. 

The girl you spoke with planted the seeds of doubt deep in your mind and you were watering them with your thoughts and past traumas. Despite anything Ace told you, any demonstration of feelings, you were out of his reach for now.

Time to process.

What did that mean? Were you going to ghost him again? For how long? Could he endure it?

He could barely hold back tears as you climbed the steps to your porch and disappeared inside the house. How could he convince you that you were the one he wanted? No matter how many girls from his past came back claiming him?

None of them ever meant anything.

You were the one. 

The only one.

-*-

“Clear!”

Your chest heaves and your back arches as the jolt of electricity courses through you. Ace holds his breath the entire time. Silent tears framing his face, his freckles almost invisible against his pale skin. 

The EMTs carry on with the CPR and Ace climbs by your side, taking care to steer away from his colleagues, not wanting to hinder your rescue. 

His hand brushes your wet hair away from your face and he can’t help but notice how cold you feel. Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers your name, jaw clenching, fighting back tears, holding onto hope as if it’s the only lifeline pulling him through the void of despair and uncertainty. 

“I love you.” He whispers into your hair. 

He can’t lose you.

It’s too much to bear and his heart's already breaking apart. He can almost hear it shattering: a fragile sound like crystal, delicate and sharp, splintering into countless irretrievable pieces.

He won’t give up.

Not now.

“You’re the one. The only one. You always have been.”

His words seem final but he isn’t resigned. He can’t live a life without you. It’s too much. Too painful, too meaningless. 

His eyes close, and a distressed wail escapes his lips as an eternal silence surrounds you both.

Until you gasp, inhaling a deep breath, your hands flailing as you blink, adjusting to the light and the sounds. Life breathing back into your lungs, you begin to feel the slow but unmistakable return of awareness, each breath bringing clarity to the fog of unconsciousness.

But you’re not alone.

Ace is there. Ace is with you. 

He will always be with you.