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tonixe · 2 years ago

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Mortality — ♱

#n.o.t.e.s `` Happy New Year, let's start this year off with a bang \\

# w.a.r.n `` Non-con/dub-con, overstimulating, creampie, squirting..., p in the v, penetration, Breeding kink...fingering...cunnilingus

#p.a.i.r.i.n.g `` homelander x fem!reader

#w.c. `` 2.3k

"John," Madelyn spoke out, calling him into her office. She was sitting by her desk, filled with Homelander plushies placed on the bookshelves room. Homelander entered the office, his hands folded behind his back, "You called for me?" he said.

"Well, since your packed schedule and my care for you, you would need an assistant, especially with everything you're doing being American superheroes," Madelyn spoke, placing her chin on her prop-up hand.

"I don't need a babysitter, Madelyn." he shut her down immediately at the thought of it.

"Well, John is not a babysitter if you act like it is," she said as she got up from her chair and walked towards the known superhero in her office.

She continue speaking, as Homelander kept his eyes her, not speaking as she started rubbing her hands on his bicep, "...But you know I would never think that you ever need one, but please at least do it for me, ....John" She gave him a reassuring smile.

"..Besides, she's gonna be here soon; it would let me down if you did have a tantrum now.." Madelyn sat back at her desk.

Homelander's eyebrows twitched to the passive remark that Madelyn said, "I do not throw tantrums-"

"Please, John, not right, no-" she was soon cut off by the sound of knocking

"Just in time, you can come in!" she yelled.

The door opened to attractive looking women wearing long sleeved white shirt with a brown tie enveloped on her body, adorned with extended brown pants accentuating her hourglass figure.

"Hello," you greeted Madelyn, as she gave you a smile back then to Homelander. You held your Ipad in your hand.

"Well, Homelander, this will be your new assistant, Y/N L/N; she'll be charged with your scheduling and social media," Madelyn signs off and turned to the agitated blonde man.

"Im so lucky to work with the one and only Homelander" you smiled at him.

It makes it better since I'm being helped by a beaut like yourself" he gave off his signature smile, the one you'll usually see on TV or when he's on camera.

"Since you guys have already met each other, I think Y/N you can go; I just need to talk to Homelander some more," Madelyn said, crossing her legs.

You nodded, before stepping out of the office. Closing the door, "I'm surprised you didn't hire someone. How do I say ugly." Homelander crossed his arms.

"Why would you think that John" Madelyn place her hand on her on her palm.

"Jealously, maybe," He states.

"Why would I ever be jealous of another random woman, John" the blonde had agitation in her voice.

"Sure" John ended the conversation, before walking out of the office, dismissing Madelyn.

John came out of the office to see you outside the office clicking away on your iPad. "Good morning, Homelander!" you piqued out.

"Hey Y/N" He shoots you with his signature smile.

"Oh yea, I was planning to update your account, you know to advertise your movie coming up," you tilted your head, smiling as you pressed the iPad to your chest, slightly pushing chest up.

"That sounds great," He said as his eyes flick between you and your chest.

"I really appreciate that Homelander!" you gave him one of your sweetest smiles; at that moment, Homelander didn't know, but it felt that piece of humanity inside him, his heart. That hurtful pang from inside, especially when you gave him that carefree smile. It felt like he actually felt something, looking at your face.

"Uh..yea," his face felt warm, maybe even hot. The first time he started stuttering over his words.

"Anything wrong?"

"No.."

"If you need me, I'll be in my office" you gave him another smile as you walked as he looked at you walking down the hallway, staring at your ass.

As you walked down the hallway to your office, you were busy on your iPad, planning for your plans on PR work for Homelander's brand. You adjusted your hair into a ponytail, before getting straight to work. You heard an opening door into your office. A familiar redhead came into the office, "Oh, hey Ashley." you said to her while you stared at your screen.

"Hey Y/N... I just want to congrats you on the promotion," she said, sitting down on one of the chairs infront of your desk. "Thanks!" You smiled at her looking up from your computer.

"Oh, I also got you some coffee while I was on the break," she slides it across to you.

"Thanks again, yeah, it's really something I wouldn't have thought that...Madelyn would do that, you know." you scratch the nape of your neck, "I totally get it" Ashley took a sip of her coffee.

"Oh yea, also Ashle-"

'DING' Ashley's ringtone went off, alerting her of some emails and text messages, "Oh Shit, sorry, I can't really talk right now" She got up quickly, "But I'll definitely meet you up at lunch" she said before picking up her calls.

"Alright..." You muttered, hearing the door close, leaving you in complete silence.

You went back to working on a draft of your project, hoping for some success in making Homelander's brand since the Stormfront, Nazi shit happened. It was a coincidence that Madelyn would hire Homelander as an assistant; it was the most challenging time of his fucking career. You knew Madelyn was out to get you, fucking hag.

Unbeknownst to you, someone was watching you through your office.

5 hours later

You were exhausted, your phone alarm went off, it was currently 10:30 pm, you looked outside of the window, it was dark since it was winter.

You turned off your computer and put it in it's case. You wore your coat, as you got ready to leave, wearing your scarf.

Opening the door, turning off the lights, and walking down the hallway to the elevator. You were busy texting Ashley on your phone.

"Ah-" you accidentally bumped into someone, you quickly looked up to see Homelander in front you.

You froze in fear.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," you apologized immediately, feeling your heart pounding against your ribcage.

"It's okay," Homelander said; you couldn't hide your red face away from him. He gave you odd looking smile. You backed away from him, grabbing your dropped items from the floor, fixing yourself up.

"Your going home?" Homelander said, "Yeah" you responded.

"It's been a busy workday, you know" you awkwardly laughed, "Uh..Bye" it was a little awkward after what happened just now; you just ran to the elevator, jamming the buttons down.

Soon as the elevator doors open, you went in. Praying tomorrow will be better and less awkward than today; the last thing you see the door closed is the brief sight of the American flag.

3 months later

You walked into the Vought Tower, holding your bag as you walked to the elevator. Heel clanked down on the marble flooring, flipping your hair back while you waited for the elevator coming down.

Becoming Homelander's assistant was improving, with the respect or maybe pity people give to you. Finally, the elevator door opens as you step inside the elevator. You pressed the elevator panel to the 79th floor, and soon the doors closed as you felt the elevator going up.

You took out your phone, looking at emails and some messages from Ashley and some of your co-workers. Scrolling through it most of it, you really didn't care about that.

'DING' The elevator doors opened up, and you walked down the hallway, walking straight to your office; grabbing your key, to your surprise it was already opened. You further opened it to see Homelander already in your office, sitting in your chair.

"Good morning, Y/N," the supe said, standing up from your chair and walking to you as you closed the door and put your coat onto the coat hanger.

"Good morning Homelander-" you responded to him, as you flipped your hair back.

"If I could ask, how did you enter here? It was locked from the outside-"

"Doesn't matter," Homelander cut you off; he was now standing right in front of you. He put his hands on your shoulder as he smoothed the material out. "You know, Y/N, you are such a good assistant; maybe even better than that... impressive,"

Everything in your body was screaming as he said that. You couldn't help but to looked around your office, "Homelander, I'm grateful for your kind words" You said without trying to sound scared. You took his hand off your shoulders, "But why are you here though, is anything wrong?" You questioned.

He cups your face as your eye looks intensely staring into your eyes, it understatement to say you were scared, you were terrified.

"Y/N...you know," Homelander gives a little chuckle to himself, then turns to look at you.

"You have always been in my mind, every single day, did you know that?," he spoke up. You were afraid, couldn't really move at all, but you couldn't help it but to be aroused by that Supe. It would be a understatement to say that Homelander wasn't attractive.

He brings his mouth to near your ear, whispering close to you, "You're wet," as he backs away from you.

Slipping his finger through your skirt to your panties, his fingers shortly played with your clit, his fingers sinking into your folds, lewd sounds coming from your mouth as you tried to covering your mouth. "You like that, don't you" he whispers into your ear before he makes brief eye contact with you.

"Nn-gah" you whine, bitting your lip.

He starts kissing your neck slowly down to your collarbone, as you felt his beady sky blue eyes on your body. His finger curling up into your pussy, you threw your head back, whining.

You felt dirty that you doing it, inside your office with American's golden boy, especially with being his assistant. You felt heat pooled to your lower abdomen, your face felt hot. Homelander's fingers going in faster into you, as your moans got louder and languid.

"That's right, don't hide your moans" He spoke out to you, as you squeeze your thighs between his arms, moaning out loudly to him. Your orgasm came into you, as you moan out loudly.

Your juices coming down from your legs, making a pool on your floor. Homelander took out his finger, as it was covered with your love juices. Your panting echoing the room, as he forced your fingers into your mouth, as you pressed down your mouth on to his finger, sucking them eagerly. The taste of you coating your whole mouth, you kept eye contact with your e/c eyes with his sky-blue eyes. As Homelander hoisted your waist up quickly slamming you onto your office desk.

He ripped your blouse with your f/c brassiere, and your boobs bounced as he pulled it. You turn your head away from him and bite your finger down, making yourself seductively. Your nipples hardened into the cool air. He started marking your chest. While he took off your skirts and panties. He dragged down his pants, revealing his red throbbing cock, the tip of his cock covered with precum. "Maybe I should make you my bitch, just for me to breed and have my children."

Grabbing your legs and laying them down on the side of his neck, you gripped his forearm tightly as he entered you, adjusting to his size.

As you roll your hips desperately for some friction, "P-lease.." you whispered, biting your lips. You looked utterly pathetic; your tights ripped, your blouse ripped into pieces, and your skirt was ripped, as your panties were probably with Homelander.

"You know, you look really pathetic right now," Homelander asserted to you, "..you should use your words, sweetheart," he cups your cheeks, "Come on, use your words, baby," he wooed.

"..P-please f-fuck me, make me your-" your glassy eyes looked at him, and as you held him before you could even continue, he plunged into you. Your boobs bounce up as he thrusts into you.

Your moans were chopped up as he rapidly rammed into you like a rabid rabbit; as he trusted up, you felt he was kissing up to your cervix. "Aah..N-ngh" whining out.

As you felt your orgasm coming,

"Fuck" he thrusted into faster as you felt some bruising up onto your pelvis; you felt him throbbing inside of you. Your eyes briefly saw white as liquid rushed out of you. Rutting homelander rutted inside you, feeling yourself seeing white. He kept jackhammering into your pussy, feeling bruising on your pelvis.

Your panting and moans are heard outside. "Fuck-"

As he thrust into you a few more times before rutting, feeling his hot liquid filling your womb. Panting can be heard throughout the office

"Not bad," Homelander said through his panting as he tucked his penis inside his boxer and pants, leaving you dripping covered in sweat, cum, bruises, and your ripped clothing. "Maybe, you can be used for something else, like my work bitch, ya definitely that." You didn't say anything, putting yourself up on your elbows to look at him as he was getting dressed.

"Meet at my penthouse at 10" Homelander looked at you as he fixed his pant.

"Wear something sexy, too" he tilted his head at you, giving you one of his charming smiles, making you wetter. You watched him exiting your office.

"Damn it," you slam your head softly onto your desk, covering your face in shame.

#homelander #homelander imagine #homelander the boys #homelander x fem!reader #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander smut #the boys season 2 #stormfront #supe #non con #tw noncon #dub con #madelyn stillwell #the boys

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limitless-haven · 5 months ago

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Those Ocean Eyes

Synopsis: When you’re called upon by Tokyo Jujutsu High for an opportunity to study under the renowned Shoko Ieiri, you gladly accept the offer, leaving behind your old school. Here you start your new adventure, excited to learn and see where this life will take you, but what you don’t account for is that here is also where you truly fall in love for the first time.

Satoru Gojo is a charismatic enigma that captured your heart right away. As time goes on, you come to truly understand the pain behind those ocean eyes of his. The scariest part? His truth doesn’t terrify you like he expected it to. If anything it makes you fall more intense for him. You want to help shoulder the burden of his pain for the man you’ve come to love.

Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: MDNI. Heavy flirting/yearning, male masturbation, mention of death

A/N: ***This is a slow burn. Eventually, there will be some spicy scenes but I will give a warning beforehand.

***This story does contain elements, scenes, and dialog from the manga/anime.

***This story was influenced by the song Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish. Every time I hear the song, I can't help but think of Gojo and what a complex character he is. He is such a lovable character who deserves the world.

***This is also posted to my AO3 account under the name “kookie0807”

Chapter 3: Kikufuku

You stayed up for quite a bit last night talking to your mom. You told her all about your interaction with Shoko, and how safe and heard she made you feel. You told her about the other students here and how they mesh well together, and how you think they have the brightest futures. You told her about Gojo, just leaving out the parts where he had you melted into a puddle of embarrassment. Your mom told you she was beyond proud of you. She told you that your dad would have stars in his eyes because his little girl was going to save so many people. You guys laughed and even shed a few tears. This is the first time you’ve been so far away from your mom. In Kyoto, you lived in the same dormitory hall as your mother, she being a teacher for the school and you being the resident healer.

It was about nine in the morning when your alarm went off. Reluctantly you rolled over and turned it off. You huff and just lay there on your back for a minute, not sure if you are ready for the day. After all, you’ll be training with Satoru today, and there’s no telling how that was going to go. You finally get up, go into the bathroom to put on some light makeup, do your hair, and brush your teeth. Feeling like a human now, you walk back into your room and stand there in front of your closet. You're debating on what to wear, a cute pair of leggings and sports bra or gym shorts and a tank top. You decide on the leggings and sports bra. The leggings are black and show off your toned legs and hug the material around your ass so, so tight. You didn’t have the biggest ass, but you did workout to make sure it was firm but jiggly in all the right spots, and perky. The sports bra is a ‘peek-a-boo’ type that is also black, it holds the ‘girls’ up but in a sexy way with a little bit of extra skin showing. You put on a pair of fully white high-top converses and look in the mirror. This outfit hugs you in all the right spots, showing off your hourglass figure. ‘Damn, I look good!’ You say to yourself. You wonder if a certain white-haired man would think the same. You put back a couple of things in their place and head out the door to the sparing room.

You get to the room first and knock on the door. You wait for an answer but hear nothing so you decide to head in. Once inside you see the room is quite bare. There are quite a few mats down on the floor, a couple of chairs along a wall, and a vending machine full of drinks. It’s your typical sparing room. You decide to grab a bottle of water from the machine, you scan your phone and click on the one you want, when you bend down to get it, the door opens to who can only be one other person.

Gojo walks into the room and sees that you're bent down in front of the machine. What he didn’t expect was for you to be wearing such tight, perfectly fitted black leggings. ‘Fuck, this is gonna be fun.’ He thinks to himself. Today was really going to test his ability to keep it together and not throw you down on the mats and have you squirming around from pure ecstasy underneath him. He notices you didn’t hear him come in so he starts to walk over to you. As soon as you get back up from grabbing your water and turn around, Satoru has you backed into the machine, one hand trapping your body between himself and said machine.

Your back presses against the cold machine causing you to gasp but then you realize who has you trapped. You look up to find Satoru smiling at you. “H-hi Satoru.” You say before he can say something first.

“Well hi, pretty girl. My, what an outfit you picked out for today huh?” He says with a smile that shows just how much he’s enjoying seeing you in said outfit.

“Oh, this? I-I thought we’d be working up a sweat today, so I-I put this on.” You look down at your body, now wondering if this was the right call. Of course, you felt confident but did you make Satoru uncomfortable?

Satoru bites his lip as he lowers his head to take in the sight of you again. “Oh, we will. But this outfit, it’s doin’ things to me. I’m not sure what kinda sweat we may end up workin’ is all.”

You blush at his suggestive comment. You would love nothing more than that, honestly but you have to stay focused. No matter how much you wanted Satoru to make good on that word, you wanted to take this seriously. You needed to at least be able to throw a good punch and dodge one too. “Satoru, stop. We’re supposed to be training…not…not that.” You say sheepishly, your cheeks are bright pink.

He can’t help but love this little act you put on, like you aren’t affected by his words. Like you didn’t put that outfit on to rile him up, he knows you did. He takes a breath and calms himself. “You’re right, we’ll save that for later.” He backs away from you and goes to stand in the middle of the sparring room. You take in his outfit. Why is he wearing his normal jujutsu attire? Why does he still have the blindfold on? You give him a puzzled look. “Why are you in your school uniform?”

He snorts. “Without trying to sound too cocky, this is all I need.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you saying you won’t break a sweat from training with me?”

He smiles. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. If we’re being honest with each other here, I can promise ya, you won’t be able to touch me.”

You scowl at him. Was this guy serious? Did he seriously think that little of you? You want nothing more than to prove his arrogant ass wrong. “What about the blindfold?” You pause. “Come to think of it, why are you always wearing it?”

He chuckles. “Tell ya what, you ever manage to land a punch on me and I’ll let you in on the secret.”

‘A challenge? Oh, you’re on!’ You think to yourself. You take off in a full sprint towards Satoru and throw your hand out but right before you can land it, it feels like you’ve hit an invisible wall. Your hand stops a couple of inches away from his chest. You look up at him and he’s got that shit-eating grin you’ve come to know.

“Limitless,” that’s all he says with a smile. And then before you can blink, there is a flash of light and he’s now standing behind you on the other side of the room. You stumble but catch yourself and turn around to face him. Why did your hand stop in midair from connecting with him?

You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Limitless? I mean, I’ve heard you have it but what exactly is it?”

He just stands there smiling at you. “It allows me to employ the concept of ‘infinity’ in a way where I can manipulate and distort space at my will.”

So that bastard knew from the moment he said he would be training you, that you wouldn’t be able to land anything on him. ‘What a jackass!’ You think to yourself. “How the hell am I supposed to hit you then?” You huff out once again.

Satoru thinks you look so fucking cute when you’re angry like this. He wants nothing more than to tame the brat that you are. He puts his hands behind his head, stretching his long body. “Dunno, that's for you to figure out (Y/N).” He smiles. “C’mon try again. I promise I won’t move.”

You roll your eyes at cheekiness. Shoko was right, Satoru is very cocky but with good reason. How the hell was anyone supposed to one-up the guy? You sigh and take off towards him again, this time going for a kick. Like before, your foot never makes contact with him like you wanted it to. It’s just floating there a couple of inches from him. You look at him and grit your teeth. You then drop your foot and try to punch his stomach but you're stopped again. He bends down to your hand, floating inches from his body.

“Givin’ it your all?” He asks and brings his hand up to yours. They are still separated by the invisible barrier though. He then flicks his finger in the direction of your hand and you go flying back onto the mat below. It’s with enough force that you bounce a little bit but aren’t hurt, well you can’t say the same for your pride.

You stare up at him with wide eyes. What the hell was that? He then stands with his legs spread wide apart and starts to stretch placing one hand on either knee and twisting. ‘Oh please like this is exhausting for you!’ You think to yourself. You get up from the mat and straighten out your leggings and sports bra.

You look at the door and sigh. “There is no point in training with you if I can’t ever touch you.”

Satoru huffs now, like a toddler not getting a new toy from the store. “C’mon, I was havin’ fun.” He says. “Fine, I’ll turn my infinity off but I don’t think you’re gonna like that result either.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow and then roll your eyes. “Stop being so cocky. You said you’d help me train so let’s do this!”

Satoru frowns at you. “But I don’t wanna hurt such a pretty girl.”

“I’m tougher than I look!” You all but shout. Was he actually going to hurt you? He was a lot bigger than you in every sense of the way.

“Fine but don’t cry when I kick your ass.” He says with a smile.

You roll your eyes. ‘That’s it! If it’s the last thing I do today, I will punch you Satoru Gojo!’ You say in your head.

You take off at him again, throwing a punch for his face but he moves his head out of the way. He grabs your arm and brings it down to his side, holding you there. This is the first time he’s ever touched you and you feel sparks from where his hand is. His touch is firm but doesn’t hurt, he’s softer than you’d imagine and god does it feel magical. You yank your arm back out of his grasp and stare at him, holding your arm where his hand just was.

“See, it’s off but you’re still not gonna be able to hit me.” He smiles.

You rub your arm where he grabbed you at. ‘Now is not the time to be fantasizing about his big, strong hands!’ You say to yourself. “No, it’s not. I still couldn’t hit you.” You say matter-of-factly.

He can’t help but let out a sizable laugh. He grabs his stomach from his hard he’s laughing. You feel embarrassed, your cheeks turning red. Once he calms down he says to you. “With my limitless power, I have control of how close things get to me, and that in turn controls how close I’m able to get to things. I have to turn it off if I want to make contact with anything.” He explains as he steps forward towards you. “So by me grabbin’ ya, trust me, it’s off.” He then grabs you by the arm and throws you over his head and onto the mat below.

You hit the mat a little harder than the invisible flick you took earlier which causes you to grimace. You look up at him before gathering all your strength and trying to sweep-kick him. As if he can read minds now, he backs up just in time before you make contact with him. You feel an undeniable rush of rage go through you, and you jump back to your feet. You just start punching all over, not caring where you’d hit but wanting to land one. He dodges every single one with ease. Before you know it, you’ve backed him toward the end of the room against the wall. You think this is your chance and go for one last swing. This time Satoru catches the punch in his hand and twists your arm behind your back, putting him behind you now. He slams your body against the wall face first, like a cop arresting someone. Thankfully you turned your head so you didn’t take the impact to your face. When your body collides with the wall you let out a groan of pain, breathing a bit heavier now from all those failed punches.

Satoru holds your arm in his large hand. He can tell you’re pissed off now and he can’t lie, it turns him on. He leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear. “Told ya.” He then presses his body into your back, squishing you against the wall even more.

You let out a gasp as you feel his toned, firm, massive body being pressed against you. You can’t be dishonest with yourself and say it didn't make you a little aroused with your current position with him. His mouth is right next to your ear, his body pressing into you. It all was starting to make you blush and feel lightheaded. You start to wiggle around, trying to free yourself from his grasp but it is no use he’s just too strong. You hear him breathe a little harder into your ear and grab you tighter, almost as if warning you to stop moving. It makes you blush all over.

“Careful princess, you might be in for a big surprise if you keep doing that.” He chuckles.

You bite your lip to stop the groan from escaping. Big surprise? Oh no, now you’re thinking about what he honestly means. Satoru is a very tall, athletic man. His hands were so large compared to yours, and his feet were massive, it made you wonder just how true his words were but you can just tell that Satoru Gojo isn’t lacking in the ‘big dick’ department, of course, why wouldn’t he be!? He was too perfect. Handsome face, nice muscular body, tall, arrogant, supposed big dick. ‘THAT'S NOT FAIR!’ You shout in your head. You decided to rile him up, if he could do it to you then why not do it back to him? “B-big surprise huh? Maybe I like big surprises.”

He chuckles moving closer until his lips come in contact with the outer shell of your ear. “Oh (Y/N), you’re playin’ a dangerous game. Believe me, I would love nothin’ more than to prove it to you but I know you’d have a difficult time handling me.”

You feel a deep throb down below, you can feel yourself getting more and more aroused by the second. The way he was leaning into you, the way his plump lips ghosted over your ear, the way his grip on your arm only tightened as he spoke. It was becoming too much but before you could say or do anything else, Satoru reluctantly let go of your arm and stepped back. You just stay up against the wall for a second, trying to catch your breath. When you feel like you do, you turn around to face him. He looks completely unfazed by what just happened, meanwhile, you're a little sweaty and your cheeks are flushed. You give him an annoyed look.

Satoru was turned on beyond belief, if he wasn’t careful, he’d be sporting a raging hard-on right now, he was already starting to chub up. He can’t remember the last time he wanted a woman so much, hell if ever. He wanted nothing more than to show you just how big he was, god he wanted to so badly but with being in the sparring room, anyone could walk in. He was getting too worked up. He takes a deep breath in, calming himself. “That’s enough for now. Shoko wants to see you in the lab.” He says as he turns towards the door and heads out without even looking back at you.

You were surprised and confused by his abrupt attitude change. What the hell is his problem? He came on to you and yet vanished when you teased him back a little? Was it too much? Was he uncomfortable? You push those thoughts to the back of your head as you grab your water and head out the door making your way over to the lab.

Satoru makes a b-line for his room. Once inside, he locks the door and heads into the bathroom. He turns the shower on but not to a hot setting. He sticks with a rather cool temperature. He takes off his clothes, throwing them down into a pile on the floor. He then takes off his blindfold, his snow-white hair falling in his face. He blinks rapidly for a second to adjust his eyes to the room. His bright blue eyes stare back at himself in the mirror. He looks at himself for a second before jumping into the shower. He stands there under the shower head, letting the water run down his ripped, tall body. His hands are on the tile in front of him, almost like he’s holding himself up. His mind immediately goes to you. He thinks about how fucking good it felt to have your teeny body pressed against him. How good you smelled. How your rapid little breaths made him want to make you do it more, made him want to turn them into pure, unadulterated moans. He feels his cock start to stir back to life. ‘Fuck, what are ya doin’ to me princess?’ He questions you in his head. He takes one hand off the wall and moves it down to grab his hardening member. He slowly drags his hand up to the head and squeezes. He lets out a sigh, he knows he shouldn’t be this affected by you but goddamn it you were so enticing. He starts to stroke himself faster, his grip tightening as he goes. He thinks about how different that little interaction could have gone. He wanted to spin you around and push you down to your knees. He wanted to watch as you ate those words when he pulled his cock out. He wanted to see the stunned look in your eyes once you saw just how massive his cock really was. He wanted to watch those pretty little lips wrap around the head of his cock and suck lightly before he pushed more into your hot, wet mouth. “Shit. Hah-,” he moans out as his hand slides up and down his cock at a quickened pace. He was so, so close to finishing already. He imagines how you would look up at him with his cock in your mouth. How you would take it down your throat, choking on him inch by impressive inch. He wants to see your eyes get teary as you deepthroat him. At that thought he's panting heavily now. “Ngh, fuck, (Y/N)!” he moans out as he’s cumming in hot, white ropes all over his hand and the shower wall. He stays in the shower a bit longer, catching his breath. He then washes his body and hair before getting out and going about his day like he didn’t just cum to the thought of you.

————————————————

Before you know it, a month has passed. You’re still training with Satoru every day in the sparring room, although you haven’t managed to land a single punch on him. Principal Yaga has told you not to get discouraged, these things take time, and that he would rather you learn how to protect yourself than see you end up seriously hurt or worse. Things with Shoko are going well. You have a big ‘test’ coming up soon. She said that it’s going to be going over everything you learned in that book she gave you a while ago now. Shoko also said if you pass, she’s going to take you out for a night on the town, her treat! You studied it every night so you know you’ll pass with flying colors. You’ve been able to heal up some of the students as they’ve gone on missions but nothing too extensive.

Just like any other day, you walk into the sparring room to already find Gojo sitting on one of the chairs. You put your phone and water bottle down on the chair beside him. He looks up at you. “Ready to try and kick my ass again?” He chuckles out.

You roll your eyes at him already being annoying. “Sure am. I’m gonna hit you today, I can feel it.”

He tilts his head back and lets out a cackle. “Sure thing princess. Tell ya what, you manage to hit me today and I’ll take ya shoppin‘. Even let you use my card.” He says as an incentive.

Shopping with Satoru’s card!? You knew he was loaded being the heir to the Gojo clan but a part of you would feel bad taking his money. Nonetheless, you agree. “Deal but don’t cry when I rack up quite the charges.” You say smiling at him.

Satoru smirks back at you. “You won’t even be able to put a dent in my bank account princess.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully. You take your stance on the mats and wait for him to join you. He gets up from the chair and walks over to you standing in front of you now. He’s the first one to throw a punch at you. He aims for your stomach but you back away. You drop down to the ground and try to sweep his lanky legs from him but he jumps over the kick. Once he lands back down he grabs your arm and flips you over his body but you manage to land on your feet. He still got ahold of your arm so you twist your body around so your fronts are facing each other. You use your legs to kick off his rock-hard stomach, flipping over in the process and landing on both of your feet. Satoru just smirks at you. “Not bad.”

You smile but don’t waste time getting caught up in his compliment. You charge for him but he grabs you by the arm again, this time you're being held against his hip. Just then the door opens and Yuji comes in. “Gojo-sensi!” He yells.

It takes Satoru by surprise, you can tell he’s dropped his guard so with all the strength you can muster up in your tiny body, you grab onto his arm and press your hip into his effectively hip tossing him down onto the mat below. Satoru is stunned for a moment too late because as soon as he hits the mat, he’s met with your first to his chest. You did it! You hit him! You actually hit him!

He stares up at you, your fist still on his chiseled chest. You look down at him and now, you have the biggest shit-eating grin on your face. “….i hit you…I FUCKING HIT YOU!” You shout!

Satoru can’t help but smile and laugh. You did indeed hit him. “Well, I’ll be damned. You sure did pretty girl.” He says. Something inside his heart starts to flutter. He can’t explain why but he is truly happy to see your reaction. It’s so pure, so refreshing, so goddamn cute. Spending every day with you for the last month has made Satoru realize just how much he genuinely likes you. You’re not afraid to give him shit back, you’re not afraid to voice your opinions, you’re determined to get better at being a sorcerer, you’re funny, kind, sweet, and did mention the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t help but smile up at you.

You straighten up and hold your hand out which Satoru takes it. You help him get back to his feet and then run over to Yuji, hugging him so tightly! He’s surprised but hugs you back, his little cheeks turning a pink shade. “What’s this for?”

You're still hugging him. “You were the perfect distraction Yuji! I finally landed a hit on Satoru!” You say excitedly and let him go looking at said man.

Satoru can’t help but smirk. ‘Damn kid.’ He thinks to himself. “Yuji, what the hell?.” He frowns. “C’mon I thought we were bros!”

Yuji just laughs and rubs the back of his head. “We are Gojo, sorry bout that! But I came to tell you that Yaga wants to see you.”

Satoru sighs. “Damn that old man…I’ll be right there.” He directs his attention to you now. “As for you, go get ready. I’m a man of my word. A princess deserves her shoppin’ trip.” He says as he passes you and heads out the door to find Yaga. You tell Yuji thank you even though he had no idea he was helping you.

You stand there smiling to yourself, feeling so giddy. You grab your phone and water bottle then rush out the door to your room. Once there, you take a shower and do your hair and make-up. You pick out a mini light blue sundress and pair it with some white wedge sandals. You hear a knock on your door and head over to open it. Your heart skips a beat when you see him. There stands the most handsome man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. Satoru is wearing a pair of dark wash slim-fit jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a pair of white Converse. Your gaze finally reaches his face. For the first time since you’ve met him, he’s not wearing a blindfold but a pair of dark blue, almost black sunglasses. His white fluffy hair is down in his face, messy but still elegant. You still can’t see his eyes and it’s driving you crazy! He’s smiling at you. “(Y/N), you look- so beautiful.” He says.

You're blushing before you know it but smiling back at him. “T-thank you. You look very h-handsome Satoru.” You say stumbling over your words a bit. Who can blame you though? Anyone in your position would be stunned by this man’s true beauty too!

“Ijichi is waiting for us out front. C’mon let’s go.” You follow him out to the car, greeting Ijichi and thanking him for driving you there. Once you two get to the mall, you look at Satoru.

“You seriously don’t have to buy me anything, you know that…right?” You ask him.

He just lets out a little laugh and smirks at you. “And I thought I told ya, I’d be paying for this shopping trip.”

You shake your head. “No Satoru, I can’t just take your money. I was just joking with you earlier about racking up charges.”

He just smiles at you. “I really don’t care (Y/N). Money doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

You continue to shake your head. “I’m not going to let you pay for anything.”

Satoru lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes under his sunglasses. “Fine.” He then grabs your hand, locking his long fingers around yours. “This is a date. Let me be a gentleman and pay for my girl.” He smiles down at you.

Your heart skips a beat, there are so, so many butterflies in your stomach. You look up at him, shocked that he said that. Shocked that he called you his girl. You feel lightheaded. Your legs are starting to wobble a bit. He notices the change in your behavior and squeezes your hand. “Y’okay pretty?”

You nod your head, still staring at him. He’s just smiling down at you. You feel him squeeze your hand again and it brings you back down to reality. He turned off his infinity for you!? You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy before. “Y-yeah, m’okay…” you say sheepishly.

He leans down getting close to your face. “Somethin’ wrong?” He questions.

You shake your head. “N-no not at all. J-just makes me shy when you say stuff…like that.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “The date part? Or that I called ya, my girl?”

Your cheeks flush red now. God, did he have to tease you? “…Sattoorruuu,” you whine. “It’s both…” you say.

He can’t help but smile at your reaction. “What? I’m jus' going on a date with my pretty girl.” He says.

You lean into his arm and hide your face. Satoru can’t help but grin at your adorable reaction. “C’mon, where do you wanna go first?” He asks as he starts walking, in turn making you walk with him.

You look around the mall at the different stores. You see a really cute boutique that sells cute girly things, you see a shoe store, a jewelry store, a book store, and a store that sells just lingerie. Satoru notices your eyes stop at the lingerie store for a bit longer than the others. “You wanna go in there? I won't complain once.” He says tilting his head in that direction and grinning.

You blush again and shake your head. “No, no, no. I can’t handle that.” You say shyly.

Satoru lets out a laugh and smiles. “Next time then? Let’s go into that store, yeah?” He says as he points to the cute little boutique. You nod your head in agreement and head off that way. You find a couple of cute things and true to his word, Satoru doesn’t let you pay for anything. You visit a couple more stores and find little things here and there, all of which Satoru pays for. After a while, you’ve accumulated a few bags and head off back to the car where Ijichi is waiting. Satoru takes the bags from you and places them in the trunk. You both get in the car and head back to the school but before you can get there, you notice the part of town you're in. ‘Wait, is this the place?’ You think to yourself.

“Ijichi, please stop the car now.” You say politely.

He does as you say, pulling the car into a parking space. “Is anything wrong Ms. (Y/L/N)?” He asks, a bit concerned about the sudden urgency to stop.

“No, I just really got to use the ladies' room.” You lie.

“Oh okay.” He says.

“Satoru, can you come with me?” You look at him and ask.

“You need me to go into the bathroom with ya?” He asks, confused.

You laugh and smile. “No, but could you maybe wait outside on those benches for me?” You say as you point to a bench just off to the side of all these little shops.

“Uh, sure.” He is still confused.

You thank Ijichi and get out of the car, pulling Satoru along with you. You make him sit at the bench and promise he won’t move. You tell him you’ll be right back and head towards the bathroom. You round the corner and there you spot it….it being his favorite Kikufuku mochi stand.

You walk up to the older grandma working the stand and order a box of freshly made Kikufuku. A couple of minutes later, she returns with your order and you pay, thanking her. ‘I hope Megumi wasn’t lying.’ You think to yourself as you approach Satoru from behind. You think he might have turned back on his infinity so you don’t put your hands over his eyes like you would like to. Instead, you step from around him with your hands behind your back, holding the mochi from his sight. He smirks when he sees you but is still rather confused. “What’s this about?” He asks.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth please?” You ask him sweetly.

He gives you a questionable look. “You’re not gonna put somethin’ phallic in my mouth are ya?”

You can’t help but let out a gut-busting laugh. “No, no I promise.” You say as you feel tears form in your eyes from laughing so hard.

Satoru cautiously closes his eyes. “Ok, they’re closed.” He says.

“You promise?” You ask.

He grins. “I promise princess.”

You trust him, you just wanted to give him a hard time because he would do the same to you. You take the box from behind your back and open it. You then unwrap one of the Kikufuku and move toward his mouth.

“Open.” You say to him. He opens that big, beautiful mouth of his and you place half of the mochi in. “Now bite down.” You tell him.

He follows your orders and bites down. He instantly recognizes that it’s Kikufuku, it just so happens to be his favorite thing ever. The chewy mochi paired with the not-too-overly-sweet filling is absolute perfection. He opens his eyes, not that you can see them anyway, and looks at you. His heart skips a beat. The pure joy on your face is making his heart beat fast. He’s never felt like this for a girl before.

You watch as he savors the mochi. You find it absolutely adorable how the smile on his face hasn’t gone away since he found out that he was eating. You find the butterflies returning as you watch him. “I take it you like them?” You ask him.

“Kikufuku is the best! How’d y’know these were my favorite?” He asks, looking up at the box in your hand.

“Oh I was talking to the first years one day and you came up in our conversation. Megumi said that those were your favorite mochi. I saw Ijichi driving by the one place that sells them so I had to have him pull over. I wanted to get you something.” You smile at him.

He just stares at you. He knows it’s just a simple gesture, but it means the world to him. Most people around him don’t really listen to him, they just think he’s being annoying. So the fact that you went out of your way to bring him here and buy him his favorite mochi, well Satoru Gojo feels like the luckiest man on the planet right now. He reaches out for what you think is the box but he grabs your arm and pulls you to sit on his lap. You're sitting sideways on top of his legs, your feet are dangling to the side of his calf. He wraps his long arms around your waist and holds you.

You can’t lie, it feels so nice to be this close to him but it also makes you nervous. You’ve caught feelings for this man in such a short period of time that it kind of scares you. He makes your heart flutter at the simplest things.

“I take it Megumi wasn’t lying to me.” You say with a giggle, enjoying the feeling of his big, strong arms around you.

“Nah, the kid knows me well.” He says as he takes another mochi from the box and pops it into his mouth. “These are heaven!” He says while grinning.

“And how well is that?” You ask curiously. You knew out of the first years, Megumi was the one who knew Gojo the longest but you had no idea what their relationship was like.

“Back when I was sixteen….” He pauses, about to open up to you for the first time. He feels comfortable enough to share. “His father was sent on a mission to kill this girl my best friend and I were protecting. He ended up succeeding in killing her.” He gets serious. “In the process, the bastard ended up almost killin’ me but on the brink of death I figured out how to use the reverse cursed technique and healed myself.” He says with a sigh. Satoru didn’t like killing people but it came along with the territory of being a Jujutsu sorcerer and the strongest one at that. “I…I killed him and in his final words, he told me that he sold his son to the Zenin clan. Knowin' how awful they would have been to the poor kid, I decided to step in. A couple of years later when Megumi was about six years old, a first grader, I found him and took him under my wing. I was only about eighteen or nineteen” He sighs. “Megumi needed someone to guide and protect him from this fucked up world of bein’ a jujutsu sorcerer.”

Sixteen!? This happened to him at sixteen? He was forced to kill a man at such a young age? God, you couldn’t imagine the mental toll that took on him. At that age, you were worried about failing your school tests and hanging out with your friends. Satoru was out here protecting people, having to kill some at that. “Oh wow. That’s a lot for a sixteen-year-old.” You say, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine what that was like and then to turn around and take care of a child at such a young age yourself?” You look at his face and give him a soft smile. “Megumi is very lucky to have you.”

Satoru smiles. “Nah, I’m nothin’ special. Just doin’ my job. This is what people expect from me. I’m the strongest after all. They don’t care if I live or die.”

You hate how nonchalant he is about killing a man at sixteen and then taking in his child at eighteen or nineteen...like this was a normal occurrence for everyone? You hated it even more that it seems people have never valued Satoru’s life, in turn making him not see the value in it either. You shake your head and then wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into you. You felt this overwhelming heartbreak for him. How could anyone just treat him like he was just a tool like his life meant nothing? Why would the higher-ups ever send a kid on a mission like that?

“That’s not fair, Satoru. That’s not fair at all. When do you get to be weak? When do you get to say no? Why didn’t those evil people treat you like a human?” You start to spiral. “You’re fucking human, Satoru. Not some unstoppable monster for the jujutsu higher-ups. Your feelings matter, your safety matters.” You lean back out from hugging him and grab his face between both of your hands. You look into his eyes despite the sunglasses being in the way and you feel your eyes starting to tear up. “You matter, Satoru. You matter so much.”

Satoru is stunned by your words. Never has anyone in his life told him that he mattered. No one has ever acknowledged that he’s a human with feelings too. No one has ever cared for him like this. It’s a new experience for him and he’s a little overwhelmed. He looks at you and gives you a tender smile, his heart is fluttering. “(Y/N), I-I,” but you don’t let him finish.

“Stop.” You say and he closes his mouth. “You are so special Satoru. Not because you’re the strongest but because you’re you. This world would be a much darker place without you.” You say as a tear falls from your eye. You have never felt this emotional about someone telling you about their past, about how little the higher-ups have made him feel about himself. They made him feel like he was completely disposable.

He’s looking at you watching as the tear falls down your face. He can’t help but feel like at this moment in time, he finally matters. His feelings are valid. He reaches out for your face and wipes away the tear gently. This action makes you look at him. He then moves the hand that just wiped away your tears and moves it towards his sunglasses. You watch him intently. He then removes his glasses and you are met with the most beautiful pair of ocean-blue eyes ever created. He blinks a couple of times to adjust to the sudden intake of light and energy flow. You just look at him.

“Aw, c’mon. You don't find me attractive? Should I have left ‘em on?” He jokes with you. You watch his eyes crinkle up from him smiling.

“S-Satoru,” you say as you look into his bright eyes. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Your eyes are so beautiful.” Your cheeks are flushing pink.

Now here is a thing no one would ever have imagined to see, the Satoru Gojo is blushing. His cheeks are a dusty pink color. He feels very vulnerable right now. No woman has ever had him feeling like this. Is this love? He doesn’t know but what he does know is that you make him happy beyond his wildest dreams. He smiles a genuine smile and you watch as it reaches his eyes. He is so adorable right now. You think you could get used to this Satoru. Yes, you loved when he was joking and teasing you but you also loved that he was showing you this side of himself that was so defenseless, so free.

“Well thank ya, my pretty girl.” He says as he pinches your side causing you to flinch and laugh.

“Why have you been hiding them?” You ask.

“My six eyes? It’s the Gojo clan's inherited gift, not everyone is born with 'em though. It grants me an incredible perception of cursed energy. I can distinguish different people and curses from miles away. It also lets me control my cursed energy. That combined with my limitless technique and you have the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.” He says as he leans back on the bench. “If I have them uncovered for long periods of time, it can fatigue me a little.”

“I didn’t know it was that powerful Satoru, but always remember that you're more than just the strongest sorcerer.” You say to him with a soft smile. Having that kind of capability just from taking off the coverings from his eyes is astonishing. You can’t imagine the physical strain of seeing everyone’s flow of cured energy all the time must do to him. “Wait,” you say. “If you can see cursed energy from everyone around you…” your voice fades off as you think about earlier. Oh, this man…he-he…

“Let you hit me earlier?” He says with a smug grin. “Yes princess, I did.”

You look at him stunned and a bit annoyed. You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “Satoru! Why would you do that? I thought I was getting better!” You speak like a scorned child.

He lets out a laugh and pinches your cheek. “You are gettin’ better. I’m just not the person who’s ass you could ever kick.” He says cockily with a wink. “You've been doin’ so much over the last month, I wanted to show my appreciation for all your hard work.” He says genially. “Plus, I wanted to get you all to myself for a bit.” He says grinning and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Before anything else can be said or done, Ijichi comes running up to the both of you. He stands behind the bench. “Satoru, there you are.” He says out of breath from running around.

Gojo lets out a groan, putting his sunglasses back on. “Ijichi, are ya related to Kugisaki by chance?”

Ijichi looks very confused. “No Gojo. Why would you think that?”

He sighs and throws his head back looking at Ijichi behind him. “Because you two have the shittiest timin' ever.” He says rather gravely.

Ijichi looks like he’s about to shit his pants. He hates it when Gojo gets serious, especially towards him. “imverysorrypleasedonthurtme.” He rushes out.

Satoru chuckles. “Expect a forehead flick. What did you want?”

“Principal Yaga called and requested you back at the school. He said there is a grade one curse he needs you to take care of.” Ijichi informs him, covering his forehead already imagining the pain of said forehead flick.

Satoru scoffs. “Like that’ll take any time at all.” He lifts his head back up and looks at you. “Sorry pretty, but we gotta go.” You hop off his lap and straighten out your dress. Satoru leans down to whisper in your ear so Ijichi can’t hear. “When I do finally get you to myself, I promise to show ya a real good time.” He says the innuendo like it was nothing which causes you to blush bright pink.

Satoru grabs your hand and you start walking back to the car with him and Ijichi. You all get in and head back to the school. On the way back you start to relive the day. It was such a fun time getting away from school and just being able to spend time with Satoru. You love that he is opening up to you. You can tell you're starting to fall for this man, and hard. Little did you know, Satoru Gojo was starting to feel the same for you, he was just too scared to admit it. He didn’t want to put you in the position of being worried about him all the time, even though he knew nothing would happen to him. After all, he was the strongest…but sometimes it felt nice to be weak in front of the right person.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #smut #gojo smut #angst #slow burn #gojo x reader smut

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cricketnationrise · 6 months ago

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For the ficlet fest: 6:42 pm, a private stage, and Arthur Fox please. My ao3 is katsudonforthesoul. Congratulations on the followers!! It's so kind of you to give back to us as a way to celebrate, especially on top of all the other things you do!

thank you so much for your kind words! the not so secret part of the ficlet fests is that all y'all's prompts are so fucking cool that i have an absolute BLAST writing them <3 for once the Arthur feels are non-angsty, which is exciting for all of us, frankly. enjoy!

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

6:42pm, a private stage

“O, for a muse of fire that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention!”

No one becomes an actor hoping for small audiences.

Famous actors can wax poetic all they want about how “reaching even one person is meaningful,” but at their core, in their secret egos, all actors want to be able to interact with the largest possible audiences. That dream is why Arthur tolerates filming; the reach is so much greater than live theatre. Even so, he’d much rather be on a stage, in front of a live audience. That feedback, that energy of a crowded room, solely focused on him and the story he’s telling is intoxicating.

“A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, and monarchs to behold the swelling scene!” Arthur winks at Catherine as he finishes the line, making her giggle. As much as he loves a packed house, there’s something special about performing for her alone, hidden away in his flat for once. She’d worn down her PPO’s enough that they’d grudgingly allowed her to stay the night, and that they’d monitor from down the hall instead of right outside his door after sweeping his place. Arthur can’t stop looking at her, casual in a way she rarely is, even in her own rooms in Kensington, completely at home here with him. The next line, something about Mars and hounds, pours out of him automatically, years of muscle memory serving him well, but Arthur couldn’t have told anyone what it actually is right now. He’s too distracted trying to memorize the precise configuration of laugh lines around her eyes.

He comes back to the text in time to appreciate the irony. “But pardon, gentles all, the flat unraisèd spirits that hath dared on this unworthy scaffold to bring forth so great an object.” It’s one thing to try to imagine vast battles and courts of ages past when you’re watching from The Globe, the building itself drenched in echoes of people imagining the same things for centuries—it’s another thing altogether to try and imagine fantastical settings and the grand scale of the story with a backdrop of worn out floors and his amazingly shit telly. Can this cockpit hold the vasty fields of France, indeed?

“Or may we cram within this wooden square the very casques that did affright the air at Agincourt?” Arthur recites, swapping “O” for “square” to reflect the shape of the room, grinning when Cat catches the change. She’s a princess, and she’s bloody brilliant, and she’s dating him. And if she wants him to perform Shakespeare for her, he’ll do it with bells on.

He bows a little at the next line. “O pardon, since a crookèd figure may attest in little place a million, and let me, ciphers to this great account, on your imaginary forces work.” Arthur meets her bright gaze steadily, as the lines ask her to imagine mighty monarchies and proud-hoofed horses.

Arthur paces forward and kneels before her where she’s perched on the couch. “For ‘tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings carry them here and there, jumping o’er times, turning th’ accomplishment of many years into an hourglass.”

“Did you mean, my entire life?” Cat snorts.

Arthur just chuckles in response and takes her hand for the last line. “Admit me chorus to this history, who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray gently to hear, kindly to judge our play.”

Cat twines her fingers with him and leans her face close to his. “I can’t believe you memorized a scene that wasn’t your own from Henry V, you gigantic nerd.”

“It’s a good monologue,” he protests. “And you like that I’m a gigantic nerd.”

“God help me, I really do,” she admits, standing up and pulling him up after her. “Now, let’s put a different gigantic part of you to work, shall we?”

“Well, if you absolutely insist…” Arthur fakes a heavy sigh, but lets her tow him toward the bedroom, more than happy to do her bidding.

#cricket writes #purgingmyemotions #ficlet fest 500 #rwrb #arthur fox #henry v

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thepoison-thecure · 2 years ago

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its also important to note that this isnt just about isolated accounts. this isn’t just that every now and then a terf or a transmisogynist worms their way into an otherwise 100% trans inclusive space. transmisogyny is present in this fandom space in other, sometimes less overt ways, even spread by people who are vocally supportive of trans people. performing digital facial feminisation surgery on images of gerard in dresses to make him more palatable and shoehorn him into cishet beauty standards is rooted in transmisogyny. going to ridiculous lengths to make any use of a they pronoun by a public figure close to them “about the band”, even when it makes no contextual or grammatical sense, is rooted in transmisogyny. tearing down trans people who dare to talk about their interpretations and identification with the themes and lyrics explored in MCRs discography through a trans lens, is rooted in transmisogyny. drawings of gerard that give them a perfect hourglass and shave their jawline down and remove any sign that they have ever been through a testosterone based puberty, are rooted in transmisogyny. jokes about gerards gender nonconformity being a bit about a sassy man in a dress, are HEAVILY rooted in transmisogyny. claims that his gender nonconformity and publicly stated pronouns are for clout or money or “““queerbaiting””” or a kink are deeply fucking rooted in transmisogyny. mcr fandom spaces are often vocally pro-trans, and are full of a lot of trans and queer people, but that doesn’t mean that transmisogyny isn’t still informing the kinds of jokes and art and images and memes and discourse that is shared around. as long as we still live in a society steeped in transmisogyny, this will keep coming up over and over again, and transmisogynists and terfs see this as approval and as validation of their bigotry. its on all of us to be mindful, to consciously and continuously deconstruct transmisogyny and to stand with trans women.

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bratshaws · 1 year ago

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through the hourglass 181. brb x oc

a/n: are you guys enjoying the fic? please let me know, i really hope you guys are(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!! they make my nights they really do<3)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: sLIGHT ANGST

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

116/117/118/119/120/121/122/123/124/125/126/127/128/129/130/131/132/133/134/135/136/137/138/139/140/141/142/143/144/145/146/147

/148/149/150/151/152/153/154/155/156/157/158/159/160/161/162/163/164/165/166/167/168/169/170/171/172/173/174/175/176/177/178/179/180

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989

He has to remember to breathe as soon as he leaps out of the fighter jet and calm himself down. The atmosphere was odd, after all they succeeded but they almost lost two of the younger pilots because of their own stubbornness. Rooster was already looking at them, they were far from the others, Raptor was pacing and Jaws had his mouth downturned but neither of them looked up at any of the pilots.

“McAllister.”

“Yes,sir?’

“Do me a favor.” he says, “Tell me again what happened before they did that stupid thing. You saw it on the radar.”

Rooster's request is born out of a desire to fully understand the sequence of events leading up to Jaws and Raptor's reckless behavior. He knows that reviewing the details can provide valuable insights into what went wrong and help prevent similar incidents in the future.

And so he could figure out how to punish them.

McAllister takes a deep breath, his voice steady as he begins to recount what he observed on the radar. "Yes, sir. Before they veered off course, I noticed a blip on the radar. It was the anti-aircraft weapon, appearing on our screen and targeting our position. It was at that moment that Jaws and Raptor made the decision to change course.”

Rooster nods, his expression serious. "And it wasn’t to avoid the weapon,right?"

"No, sir," McAllister replies. "They didn't transmit any information or warnings to the rest of us. It seemed like they acted on their own without considering the potential consequences."

Rooster's frustration resurfaces as he listens to McAllister's account. It becomes clear that Jaws and Raptor's actions were not only reckless but also lacked communication and coordination with the rest of the team. This lack of cohesion jeopardized the safety of the entire Stalker team.

If he hadn’t acted up quickly, he doesn’t even want to think.

His head and heart feel so heavy because for a second he could see Beatrice and their family showing up behind his eyelids. Like one last reminds, the last things he’d see before everything was gone. He was angry because of what they did, the risk, everything was eating him alive.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before addressing McAllister again. "Thank you, McAllister. I appreciate that." he sees Maverick walking closer, sending a look towards the two before meeting Rooster’s eyes, “You are free to go now,McAllister. Good job.”

“Thank you sir!” the younger pilot salutes him, then Maverick, before walking away in a hurry. The new recruits were ignoring the two, mostly because the other pilots told them to. That it was going to be resolved soon.

Maverick whistled low, looking at Rooster, “I hear something bad happened back there.” his nephew groans in annoyance, ‘Care to tell me?”

Rooster takes a deep breath, then laughs quietly as he tucks his helmet between his elbow and his ribcage, “You were right.” he begins, “About them…fuck,Mav, Jaws and Raptor made a dangerous and reckless decision during the mission," Rooster starts, his voice tinged with frustration. "They veered off course without any warning or coordination with the rest of the team, putting themselves and the entire Stalker team at risk."

Maverick's eyebrows furrow, his expression shifting to a mix of concern and curiosity. "What led them to make such a decision?"

Rooster sighs, his frustration evident in his voice. "Because they wanted to be heroes by themselves. They just ignored me, they ignored my orders…and Mav, me and McAllister had to save their asses by shooting the cannon, head on,I almost-” and he stops, swallows and clenches his eyes, “...I am angry.”

Maverick's gaze narrows as he absorbs the information, crossing his arms while his face is still looking at Rooster. "That was a serious breach of protocol and a disregard for the safety of the entire team," he remarks sternly. “That was the stupidest shit I’ve ever seen anyone do. And I’ve seen a lot of stupid shit.”

Rooster nods in agreement. "I know, Mav. Their actions could have cost us dearly. We managed to neutralize the anti-aircraft weapon, but it could have ended very differently."

"We need to address this immediately, Rooster. It's not just about their reckless behavior. We can't have individuals acting on their own without considering the impact on the entire squadron or even so, the entire base for that matter. You know the domino effect this creates"

Rooster’s brown eyes were digging daggers at the two who were still scrunched into the corner, trying to hide themselves from any and everyone, ashamed, but he could swear Jaws had a little smirk on his face, ‘...I know. I need to talk to them.” and not kill them, albeit he wants to, “Now is a great time. I’ll just put this away.”

“Go ahead, try to not massacre them too much.”

“No promises.” he is a bit lighter from that talk with Mav but not enough. In fact his stomach is just hot with anger, because they almost lost people because of that. He nods and smiles to the other squad members, pats the young recruits and as he walks past the two his smile drops immediately.

“Sir.”

“I want you two in my office.” he says in passing, walking towards the lockers. He stops by the door when they don’t move, looking at each other with confusion and Rooster flicks his gaze between them, “Now.” he doesn’t yell, he doesn’t scream, but they’d be pretty stupid to ignore that command. He watches as they shuffle away like two kids who got scolded and shakes his head, opening the locker to shove his helmet inside…and then his body feels like jello.

Now that he’s on the ground, safe and with his heartbeat slowing, he tried to hold back the panic, the tears that dared to slip out. He almost lost everything, for a brief second he thought it’d be over, that him and McAllister were done for and he felt like…he doesn’t even know what to feel.

He holds onto the locket with his knuckles turning white and his teeth clenched as his eyes open to stare at his wedding band. It was still there, he was still there, but he needed more. He wanted to talk to Beatrice but he couldn’t elaborate on why he was so nervous

Rooster takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself before he pushes away from the locker, closing it slowly and putting on a neutral face as he turned away. As soon as he walked out, everyone’s eyes are on him, his friends just stare because they knew what was going to happen while the young recruits have a guessing.

He’s furious but he is a professional. And he is the leader, he has something to do and he had to do it right.

He knows they are inside the office because he hears the scuffle of their soles against the floor, he stays outside for a few seconds, keeping in mind what he had to say…and then he enters.

The two young pilots immediately look up at him, standing to their feet before he even orders them do so - which is ironic considering what happened -, their expressions a mix of apprehensive. Rooster looks at them sternly, his anger simmering beneath the surface but restrained for now.

"Sit down," Rooster commands, pointing to the chairs in front of his desk as he pushes the door shut. They obey without a word, their eyes cast down. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, rubbing the bridge of his nose before walking around his desk and sitting down. He stays there in silence for a bit, his hands locked in front of his mouth, knowing that he needs to approach this situation the best way he could.

"I won't mince words," Rooster begins, his voice firm. "Your actions during the mission were reckless and dangerous. You disobeyed direct orders, ignored the safety protocols, and endangered not only yourselves but the entire team." hs jaw moves angrily “...and i want to know why.”

Jaws and Raptor exchange glances, but they remain quiet with Raptor appearing more and more terrified. Rooster continues, his tone unwavering. "Tell me…why. Now."

Rooster's voice cuts through the air, it’s so sharp he was sure they both flinched. He leans forward, his eyes fixed on Jaws and Raptor, waiting for their response, spreading his fingers in a ‘well?’ manner. The room remains silent for a few tense moments before Raptor finally speaks up, his voice hesitant.

"We...we thought we could handle it, sir," Jaws stammers. "We saw an opportunity to take out the anti-aircraft weapon and...and we wanted to prove ourselves, to show that we could be heroes."

Rooster's eyes narrow, pure disappointment flashing across his face. "Heroes?" he repeats, his tone laced with sarcasm. "You thought risking the lives of the entire team, including yourselves, was the path to heroism?"

Jaws, who has been mostly quiet, chimes in, his voice trembling. "We didn't think it through, sir. We got caught up in the moment, thinking we could make a difference."

Rooster leans back in his chair, his expression still stern. "I—” he inhales, rubbing his eyes, “You're both young, and I understand the desire to prove yourselves. But this is not the way to do it," he says firmly. "Heroism is not about reckless actions and disregarding orders. Which you two did. You two completely ignored me, do you know how bad that is?”

Rooster's frustration becomes palpable as he listens to Jaws and Raptor's explanations. He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his anger in check, but it seeps into his voice nonetheless.

"Heroism is earned through discipline, teamwork, and making the right decisions in high-pressure situations," Rooster asserts, his tone firm and unwavering. "What you two did was not heroic. It was foolish and it was dangerous. By disregarding my orders and the established safety protocols, you put everyone at risk. You put yourselves at risk. And for what? To prove a point?"

His disappointment hangs heavy in the air as he continues, not letting them speak back at him "When you chose to act independently, you not only almost jeopardized the mission but also undermined the trust we have as a team, not to mention almost hurt some of the other pilots. I trusted you to follow orders and prioritize the safety of everyone involved. That trust has been shattered."

Rooster's gaze shifts between Jaws and Raptor, his voice filled with a mix of sternness and genuine concern. "I need to know that you both understand the gravity of your actions. The consequences could have been devastating. Lives could have been lost."

Jaws and Raptor both nod, their expressions showing finally some actual regret. Jaws takes a deep breath, his voice earnest. "Sir, we understand now. We messed up. We didn't think about the consequences, and we're truly sorry."

Rooster's jaw tenses, his frustration still evident. "Sorry is not enough," he scoffs. "Sorry doesn't undo the potential damage that could have been caused. You will face the consequences of your actions, both professionally and personally." that does make the two of them look up in horror.

“But sir!”

“We didn’t mean to-”

Rooster holds them up by lifting a hand, ‘What’s done is done.You made a choice, and you will have to face the consequences. This is not a matter of intentions. Intentions do not absolve you of the responsibility for your actions. You two aren’t children."

He takes a moment to let his words sink in, his voice resolute. "As the leader of this squad, it is my duty to ensure the safety and effectiveness of our operations. Your actions directly undermined that. I cannot and will not tolerate such disregard for the chain of command and the safety protocols we have in place."

Jaws and Raptor sit there, their expressions a mix of guilt and fear, eyes wide open. Rooster continues, his voice still firm. " You will face disciplinary measures, and you will undergo retraining to ensure that this type of behavior is not repeated. I’ll write everything in the report."

“But…but what will happen to us?” Raptor sounds close to crying. “W-What will we do?”

"What will happen to you will depend on the outcome of the disciplinary process," Rooster explains, interlacing his hands in front of him, on top of the desk. " I cannot determine the exact consequences at this moment, but I can assure you that they will be…dealt with accordingly."

Neither of them are happy with that, but what did they expect? They can’t do stuff like that and think it’d be okay in the end. He inhales again, pulling out some papers and clicking on his pen, ‘Dismissed.”

“Sir,if I may–” Jaws interrupts but Rooster is done right now.

“No, you may not.” he points the pen to the door, “Dismissed.”

Jaws and Raptor look to each other one more time, with the female sniffling and trying her best not to cry, while Jaws just stands silently, following her outside of Rooster’s office, closing the door behind them. Rooster waist, pen hovering above the paper, until he no longer could hear their footsteps close by.

He lets the pen drop on the desk, roll away until it touches the edge of a file and holds his head in his hands, “Jesus Christ.” he mutters to himself, “...reports be damned.” he immediately opens his drawer, where his phone was locked and fully charged, “I need to talk to Bea…what time is it there now?” he questions himself as he turns the phone on, “...around eight? Maybe? I should message her to make sure she’s awake.’

Roos (14:00)

Hey,gorgeous. Are you up? And if you are…do you feel like video chatting? I kinda miss you a lot right now.

He notices the time with his eyes going wide, “It’s that late already? Fuck,” if those two– he stops the line of thought, licking his lips while shaking his head with a bitter smile, “I won’t bother myself with that right now.” and thankfully, his wife was a mind reader, because she immediately replies.

Bea (14:02)

Hey Roos. It’s a bit late but I am making myself some hot cocoa because I lost sleep and I don’t mind video chatting at all! :)

Roos (14:03)

I'm glad you're awake, babe. I really need to see your face right now.

Bea (14:05)

Of course, Roos. Just give me a minute to get settled. I'm here for you, always.

His smile only widens as he holds his head up with a hand, his heart a mix of anxious and filled with love because of her. He almost lost…everything, that was the second time something like that happened but the very first being caused by someone on his side. He waits until the call happens, holding the phone close to his face until her own eyes appear on the screen, “There she is.” he says, “Where are you right now?”

She smiles as she sits down on a chair, moving the camera around a bit, ‘I’m in the twins’ bedroom.” there are sketches of marine life all over the walls, with just a few of them being painted on, “I was finishing it up a bit.”

“Is that why you aren’t asleep?”

“...well…kind of.” she laughs, ‘I woke up a few hours ago,I don’t know if you can hear but it’s raining a lot right now.” as if on cue, thunder rumbled above and she squeaked, turning the phone back to her face, blinking at him, ‘You heard that,right?”

Rooster chuckles softly at Bea's reaction to the thunder. He's grateful for this brief moment of lightheartedness amidst the weight of his current situation.

"Yeah, I heard it," he replies with a smile, leaning back in his chair. "I miss those rainy nights with you. It feels like a lifetime ago."

Bea nods, her expression softening. "I miss them too, Roos. I wish we could be together right now."

Rooster's gaze meets her own and he sighs, licking his lips, “How’s Nikki? And the twins?”

“They are all fine, Nikki just, sleeps through everything as you know…and the twins are fine and…I’m enjoying my time away from the bar right now.” she smiles sweetly, shrugging as she finished her sentence, “You know, doing my things, distracting myself the best way I can.” she moves the phone a bit, propping it on something, probably a box so she could show him the growing tummy, “See? Here they are.”

And Rooster stares in silence,holding his head up, eyes locked on her body. She was beautiful and she looked amazing…and he wanted to imprint that in his mind, he wanted to. God he had to. He is covering his mouth because he’s so scared he’ll end up crying on this call…and he knows she doesn’t need that worry in her brain.

“See?” she runs her hand on the swell of her stomach, giggling softly “They are just as active as Nikki, they’ve been moving a lot and–Roos?”

“Hm?”

“...are you okay?”

Was he? No. He wasn’t. Rooster inhales shakily, then clears his throat, this time he propped the phone up with a paper weight, leaning back on his chair to interlace his fingers behind his neck ,”...I’m not, honestly.” he laughs bitterly “I…I can’t elaborate on that,gorgeous. The mission is still going after all.”

“...well…you can share what you can, you know that.” she smiles “I’m all ears.”

Rooster looks into Bea's eyes through the screen, his heart heavy with the weight of his recent experience. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, breathing shakily before speaking.

"I appreciate that, Bea," he says, "It's just... something happened on the mission. Something I can't fully talk about yet. It was... difficult.”

“Did…anyone get hurt?”

Almost. “No.” he shakes his head negatively, “No one did.”

“That’s good though,I’m glad you are all okay!”

“Yeah,well…it was just…some of the new recruits messed up.” badly “And it was bad…like really bad.” but he promised himself to not elaborate on that at all. Rooster shakes his head, knowing that the more he thought about it, the more that Beatrice was going to worry…”...you know what, nevermind.” he chuckles, shaking his head, “Tell me about your week.”

“Oh…are you sure?”

“I’m more than sure,gorgeous.” he whispers, “I promise…and I have time to talk too. So tell me about it.”

“Well,okay!” she settles back on the chair, holding the phone up “What would you like to know first?”

Rooster takes a while to reply, because he’s looking at her face. Every little detail, the shade of her eyes, the way those full lips curl into a smile and the freckles she has dusted over her nose, “...anything.” he whispers, “...anything you want,I just want to hear your voice.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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rainbows-fanfics · 8 months ago

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Help Unwanted (Chapter 2)

Summary: After losing the Pirate, Deacon is unwillingly paired with a partner to help with his job. The only problem is - they can't stand each other, and time is dwindling until he can re-capture all his lost prisoners.

Human AU of the Armada from Pirate101.

Pairings: Deacon/Queen!Deacon, Deacon/OC

Despite what happened, Deacon was thrilled to be working again. He spent his entire night researching his lost fugitives, theorizing their whereabouts as a head-start to his mission. He’d make an entire schedule for the next three months if he could. He came into work that morning with a plan already sorted in his head.

He arrived at the docks and found a woman sitting on one of the crates, kicking her boots idly. The two locked eyes when he appeared and she stood to her feet right away.

She was dressed like him - a tall, black-and-golden hat on her head, along with a full-face mask and sheets clipped onto its sides to conceal her hair. She wore what looked to be his coat incorporated into a dress - buttoned together on the sides of her stomach, the ends shy of reaching her ankles. A small black cape was attached to a gear collar exactly like his, except this one only fell below her shoulders.

He eyed her hourglass figure as she approached, her small boots emphasizing her steps. She stopped to place a hand on her hip. Her green eyes looked Deacon up-and-down without a word. She drank up his appearance, as he did with hers. He took the liberty of speaking first.

"..Why do you look like me?" He sounded unimpressed, but that was far from the truth. It was a little flattering.

Her voice had a Monquistan accent. "Queen designed the getup. Said something about it complimenting you."

He raised a hidden brow. "And your name?"

She tilted her head and crossed her arms. "Tell me yours first."

He'd never been too careful with his real name. He knew what tracks he left and wiped what he wanted from his files a long time ago. Codenames were unnecessary and a nuisance most of the time. "Deacon."

"...Dea."

He snorted. "Queen came up with that one, too?"

She sounded delighted. "I did. Just now."

"Charming."

She gestured for him to follow. He picked his cane off the floorboards and trailed behind, glancing at the docked ships they passed. They were getting less impressive and smaller in size the further they went. He hoped Kane didn't downgrade his ride as further punishment.

"I heard the Erebus was an impressive vessel. Had the biggest brig in the fleet. Easy to sail, too." Dea tsked. "Pity what happened to it."

"Yeah, well." He muttered, digging through his pockets. "Nothing I can do about that now."

When he glanced up, he found Dea looking at him from the side, a playful glint to her eyes. She knew what happened and was already rubbing it in his face. He wasn't going to escape the humiliation no matter where he went, was he?

They stopped at the last ship on the dock. Thankfully, it wasn’t the smallest one - its size equal to the Erebus, though not as familiar to him. Its structure looked similar to other prison ships, which piqued his interest. The sails were not their usual black-and-golden color, remaining a white and blue instead. As he observed the craft, Dea stood to the side and motioned proudly.

“Here she is - The Executioner .”

“She was named already..?”

“It’s a newer clockwork vessel. Kane picked this one for our mission. They let me name it, so I did.” She waited before adding, “-I thought it was fitting. We’re using it to execute our mission - therefore, the ‘Executioner’ . No?”

“...Isn’t that part of the Captain’s job?”

She scoffed, turning around and jabbing a finger at his chest. He was taken aback at the forwardness, stumbling when she poked him.

“I’m your co-captain, in case you’ve forgotten. And the first rule of my command is that I get to name the ship.”

He leaned forward to meet her abrasiveness. She was several inches shorter than him, not accounting the heels on her booties. “--Then let’s call it even: I get to sail it.”

She flicked her gloved hand. “Fine.”

Truthfully, the name of the ship didn’t bother him. When captaining Armada boats, he was more concerned with where it went and how it got there. And he likely didn’t deserve the privilege, after his incident with the Erebus. But he didn’t appreciate her making decisions on his behalf. This was his mission, after all.

They were noticed by some crewmembers, who dropped a board to allow them on. Dea went first as Deacon followed behind. They were greeted by the crew, who stood in a line and saluted them. There were soldiers, marines, and even a couple of dragoons and battle angels. The spymaster noted the higher selection of fighters and wondered if this was done purposefully, due to the failure of his last battle.

“ Captains !” They shouted loudly. He’d have to get used to the plurality. He moved in front of them and rested on his cane, preparing his usual introduction.

“ Buongiorno. My name is Deacon, the Armada’s Emissary and Spymaster. I will be the captain of this vessel for the next few months. You are expected-”

“---I’m Dea, your co-captain.” The woman beside him butted in, much to his annoyance. “You are expected to follow our commands and keep this vessel in ship-shape. We will be imprisoning any undesirables and pirates we encounter. Am I clear?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“For the glory of the Armada!”

The Armada soldiers repeated the line proudly. Deacon rolled his eyes. He wasted no time getting familiar with the ship - inspecting the deck, checking the sails, and assigning jobs to the crewmembers. He made note of everything he observed and wrote down his crew’s names, in a journal he kept with him on his voyages. He counted the empty cells and determined the full capacity of their future prisoners. When all was said and done, he went to visit the Captain’s cabin, only to get stopped by his female doppelgänger.

She looked at him expectantly. “Ready to assign the crew’s duties?”

“-Already done.” He flipped the journal to her view. She leaned forward to read his handwriting.

“When did you do that ?” She went to grab it from his hands, but he pulled it away before she could.

“I’ve done this a million times. There’s no time for dilly-dallying on the first day, especially when we’re expected to sail tomorrow.”

“Yes, but–” He was already opening the door to the cabin. She stormed after him. “You’re supposed to consult me ! That’s what co-captaining means!”

He stopped in his tracks. She was steaming under her mask, gloved fists clenched in anger. He grabbed the small journal from his pocket, flipped it to the right page, and handed it to her. She took it with a huff. She focused on reading what he’d written down. Deacon took this time to properly survey the cabin, seeing as this room will be his lodging for the next few months.

There were two beds on opposite walls, one for him and the other for her, both concealed by privacy sheets. A long table sat in the back respectively for mapping and navigation, with a built-in compass and globe in the middle of the room. A bookcase was placed against the wall with provided parchment paper. He glanced at the informative titles on navigation, geography, and varied history – noting the ones he’d have to read later.

Dea finished reading, sighing as she shut the journal. She went to return it, only to find the Emissary hunched in the back of the room. He was trying to open a chest he found under the captain’s desk. She stepped forward and carelessly dropped it, drumming her small fingers on the wood. She glanced at his crouched figure from the corner of her eye.

“You must be a lone wolf - one of those men who like to take charge. Who prefer to do things by themselves. Am I right?”

He nodded vaguely, only half-paying attention as he attempted each of his keys in the lock. She stifled an irritated groan. She didn’t want to lose her patience so soon.

“We’re working together . You can’t do something and tell me about it afterwards - we need to talk through things, and–”

She was interrupted when the box sprung open. They were presented with a gorgeous view of gold and doubloons. Deacon made no hesitation to count the sum inside. Dea was too busy marveling at the sight, snapped out of her trance when he dropped more than a handful of coins into her hands. She was quiet for a second or two, until she finally looked at him, and found he was pocketing a good portion as well.

“What’s this for?”

He tilted his head strangely at her. She turned defensive at his silence. “You dumped a bunch of gold in my hands..?”

“It’s more than usual because there are two Captains now, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He resumed what he’d been doing. Dea held her palms out, no idea on what to do with what she was given. She grew agitated. “That still doesn’t answer my question!”

Deacon finally stopped his movements. He looked at her for an awfully long time. The silence grew tense and uncomfortable. She shifted her feet and blushed under her mask, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Over what - she didn’t know. He soon clicked his tongue.

“Have you ever Captained a ship before?”

She was offended, as he assumed. “What?”

“They give you a chest of gold for necessities.” He shut it for emphasis, locking it with the same key. “-Every Captain knows this.”

Her defensiveness was immediately replaced with humiliation. She discarded her share in one of her dress’ pockets, promptly looking away and clearing her throat. “-I knew that. It’s…been awhile, that’s all.”

He continued to stare at her, which did nothing to ease her discomfort. The quarters felt unbearable. She wanted out of this room as soon as possible. She turned on her heel and headed straight for the door, refusing to pass her partner a second glance.

“I’m going to check on the crew.”

He watched her leave in a hurry, slamming the door behind her. He stood to his full height and grabbed his journal from the desk. His eyes traveled back to where she once stood, replaying Dea's confusion in his head. They drifted back to the door and he hummed inquisitively to himself.

He suddenly wanted to know more about his 'co-captain'.

#pirate101 #p101 #pirate101 deacon #queen!deacon #help unwanted #fanfiction #fanfic

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crissiebaby · 2 years ago

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The Perfect Match, Pt. 1

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, babyfication, humiliation, domination, SPH, masturbation/diaper sex, anal play, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Anon

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*KNOCK KNOCK!*

Standing outside of a posh townhome on the wealthier side of town was JW, an average-looking and mild-mannered guy. Dressed in a wrinkled, orange T-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting jeans that he really should’ve purchased a belt for by now, one wouldn’t suspect that he was standing on this very doorstep in anticipation of a date with a girl he matched on a dating app. He honestly couldn’t believe it himself when he saw who he matched with.

Elma M. That was the name JW stumbled upon one drunken weekday night when flipping through girls on Bumblr. Unlike most of the other girls he’d happened upon, she was more than just cute or good with makeup and lighting. She was an absolute knockout with an almost cartoonishly perfect hourglass figure. Her bio made sure to brag about her E-cups, something that only turned JW on more. He definitely was looking for an attractive and confident woman like her. With little self-awareness and a crap ton of wishful thinking, he swiped right and hoped for the best.

To his gleeful surprise, about half a day later after he had sobered, JW received a notification on his phone saying that Elma M. had matched with him. He practically jumped for joy as he stared down at his phone, feeling a sense of pride welling up in his chest. After a brief but pleasant conversation, he and Elma agreed to meet at her place for a Friday evening date. To think that not only would he be going on a date with one of the hottest women he’d ever laid eyes on but he’d be stopping by her house first. Maybe if he was lucky, they would swing by her place after the date as well.

While JW was nothing but confident in his match with Elma, his friends were far more skeptical, trying to remind him if something on the internet seems too good to be true, it almost certainly is. He attempted to quell their doubts by boasting about Bumblr’s top-notch verification system which made it nearly impossible for someone to fake an account. Sadly, his friends weren’t exactly swayed. Rolling his bright, green eyes at their cynicism, he decided the best way to prove them wrong was to go on the date and brag about it afterward.

*Raaaaaaattle! CLICK!*

The sounds of the front door unlocking pulled JW’s wandering mind back to reality. He quickly straightened up his poster and adjusted his stance so that his “good” angle was pushed forward. Running his fingers through his neck-length brown hair one last time, his face brightened into a smile, ready to greet his date.

“Hi! You must be JW!” said Elma with a deep, sultry voice as her ruby-red lips stretched into a warm smile. The photos on Bumblr failed to capture just how drop-dead gorgeous this woman was. Her long, auburn hair shimmered under the glow of the porch lights, accenting her delicate skin tone perfectly.

Tragically, JW was not aware of this as his eyes were drawn in by the hypnotic pull of Elma’s sweater puppies. Contrary to his mundane appearance, she was wearing a black evening dress with a slit running down the side of her leg and a fashion belt strapped around her waist. The length of the dress did nothing to hide just how tall Elma was, standing more than a couple of inches above JW’s painfully average height of 5’9”.

Stepping out of the doorway, Elma happily stood over JW, looking down at him as she extended her arm for a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, accepting JW’s slightly damp hand into her own, “Please, come inside, won’t you? I’m almost finished getting ready.” Without waiting for an answer, she turned to make her way back inside the house while keeping a grip on JW’s appendage.

Not that JW would’ve turned Elma down anyway. If she had asked him to be her dog, he would’ve rolled over and barked at her beck and call. Entering her well-manicured apartment, he was instantly blown away by how spotless and trending everything was. All the furniture matched the tan-colored walls and soft, beige carpet, creating a relaxing environment. It was certainly a far cry from his drab studio, which had not been thoroughly cleaned since he moved in.

“Kick your shoes off at the door, please. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?” said Elma, shutting the door behind JW and locking it tight. Once again, she didn’t wait for an answer, making a B-line directly toward the kitchen.

Obeying Elma’s request, JW, quickly slid his tennis shoes off without untying them and parked himself down on the plush couch. “Um…sure. Thank you,” he said, not really being much of a tea person but far too nervous to turn down her offer. As he waited for Elma to return with his teacup, he glanced around her living room, admiring the small bits of personality hidden within her decor. From the abstract painting of a child playing with blocks to the music box with a cutely-dressed ceramic infant on top, she clearly had a thing for baby imagery. Based on the fact that she was getting into her 30s, it was clear to him that she must’ve been eager to settle down. This thought caused him to snicker as he mumbled under his breath, “Guess all those asshole dudebros didn’t work out, so she’s finally giving a nice guy a try.”

After a couple of minutes of tapping his finger on the armrest of the couch before transitioning to tapping his finger on the touch screen of his phone, Elma finally returned with a fine china tea cup on a small serving platter in hand. “Here you are! You go ahead and drink up. I’ll be ready in a jiffy,” she said, gently handing the cup and saucer to JW. After the handoff, she proceeded to watch JW for a moment, waiting for him to take his first sip.

Feeling the pressure of Elma’s eyes on him, JW lifted the cup to his mouth and took in a small sip. Pleasantly, the tea was the perfect temperature, not too warm and not too cold. That was nothing compared to the flavor, which danced on his tongue in a mixture of fruity and leafy undertones. “Mmmm! It’s delicious,” he said before tipping the cup back for another, much larger gulp.

Pleased by JW’s enjoyment of the tea, Elma turned to leave, watching him in the corner of her eye as he chugged down the contents of the teacup. She had anticipated him to take longer to finish his cup. However, since he was so unrefined as to slurp down the entire cup in one fell swoop, she supposed she might as well get started. “Tell me, JW…” she said in a far less sweet tone as she slowly turned around to face JW again from the other side of the room, a looming shadow shrouding her face in darkness, “...Is that really what you’re planning to wear on our date?”

Polishing off the last of his tea, JW coughed as Elma’s question caught him off-guard. Surely the kind-sounding woman who had treated him so nicely up to this point didn’t just say something so pointed. Unfortunately, as he looked up from his cup, any doubts he had were laid to rest by her stoic expression. “I-I…um…” he stuttered, a knot welling up in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t really one for confrontation, so hearing Elma be so directly disappointed in his appearance hit him hard.

“‘I’ and ‘Um’? Is that really all you have to say for yourself?” asked Elma, strutting back across the living room until she towered over a still-seated JW, “I cannot fathom why you assumed a t-shirt and blue jeans were acceptable attire for a dinner date. If this relationship is going to work, I expect the same level of output from you that I put in. Understand?”

Scared by Elma’s sudden turn-face-heel, JW nodded quickly. While he partially began to notice why someone as beautiful as Elma was still single, his desperation for her voluptuous body led him to hope this would only be a minor speed bump in what would surely be a long and loving relationship. “If you g-give me twenty minutes, I can go home and change,” he said, praying that he remembered to wash his good button-up in the last load of laundry.

“And waste my time? Funny!” responded Elma, shaking her head in disapproval, “A bunch of my brother’s clothes are still here. Strip and I’ll fetch you something more fitting for a date with someone like me.” She punctuated her sentence by folding her arms across her bodacious chest.

Nodding meekly for a second time, JW was honestly a little relieved that he wouldn’t have to rush all the way home, though he was also nervous about letting a girl he’d just met dress him. As hesitant as he was, he wasn’t about to risk having her turn him away. “F-Fine. Can you show me to a bathroom or spare room to change?” he asked, still clutching the teacup between his fingers.

“Ha! And give you the chance to rifle through my stuff? Fat chance,” said Elma, glaring holes through JW’s skull, “No, you’ll strip right here, right now, or the date is off.”

Cowering in his seat, JW was so intimidated by Elma that he could faint. As frightening as she was in her present state, he couldn’t help but find himself aroused by how dominant she was. The conflict in his brain threatened to give him whiplash. Reluctantly, he climbed to his feet and began to lift his shirt over his head, too committed to his date with a bombshell to refuse at this point. However, as he removed his orange top and showed off his slender, scrawny physique, he remembered which pair of underwear he had chosen to wear that day, causing him to blush at the thought of showing them to Elma. “P-Please, can I have some privacy for the next part?” he pleaded, hoping for an ounce of mercy from his date.

“Nope! Pants down now, lover boy,” said Elma, showing no leniency toward JW. With how close she was to getting him undressed, he was nearly to the point of no return. All she had to do was push him a little further to seal the deal.

With shaky hands, JW reached down for the front button of his pants, not certain he had the emotional strength to see this through. His face was beet red with humiliation and he hadn’t even lowered his jeans yet. In the back of his mind, he knew if he let her see what he was wearing under his pants that any shot of a long-term romance with Elma would be dead and gone. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself to stand up to his date, “I can’t. I’ll wear whatever you want me to. Just don’t make me do this.”

Rolling her eyes, Elma closed the gap between her and JW as she reached down and placed her hands on the waistband of his jeans. “If you’re not going to do it, I’ll just have to do it for you,” she said starkly as she yanked JW’s pants down with enough force to strip him in one go. Now that his jeans were around his ankles, her eyes went wide as she finally figured out why he’d been so resistant, “HAHAHA! Are those…tighty whities?!”

Sure enough, stretched around JW’s waist was a pair of fresh tighty whities, their newly-purchased status on display due to the lack of loose threads and laundry stains. Adding to his embarrassment was his less-than-flaccid cock, which pulsed against the fabric of his undies. A small dot of precum accentuated the tip of his penis, letting Elma know exactly what he thought of her.

“Oh my Goddess! This is just too much,” said Elma, keeping a tight grip on JW’s pants so that he couldn’t scurry away. Positioning herself so she could free up a hand, she reached across his unshaven thighs and lightly flicked the girth of JW’s little JW, “Is that all the harder it can get? I take it JW must stand for Junior Wiener. No wonder you’re wearing tighty whities! Grade-school undies for a grade-school-sized cock.”

Unable to stomp his legs free from Elma’s hold, JW could do nothing more to hide from his shame than cover his face with one hand while meekly pushing Elma’s hand away with the other. “Y-You don’t have to be a b-bitch about it,” he mumbled angrily through gritted teeth with his damaged pride. As someone who didn’t have a ton of confidence in his four-inch weapon, this was by far the most devastating night of his life, “Just let me p-pull my pants up and I’ll get out of your hair.”

While JW may have wanted a hasty retreat, Elma wasn’t about to let him off so easily. As JW tried to shuffle away again, she thrust the bunched pants upward, stripping them off of JW’s legs and causing him to fall back onto the couch. He wasn’t allowed to settle in for too long, though, as she proceeded to wrap her fingers around the hem of JW’s underwear and pull him back into a standing position. “Oh, you’re not going anywhere, Junior,” she said, bluntly declaring her new nickname for her newest pet. Adding a bit of force to her statement, she shifted her hand to the rear of JW’s undies and tugged them upward, giving him the mother of all wedgies.

“AHHHHHHHHH! S-STAWP IT! LEMME GO!” screamed JW as he was practically lifted off of his feet by his underwear alone. Tragically, his cries fall on deaf ears with Elma showing an ounce of empathy toward her date-to-be. He could practically feel threads popping loose as his body weight worked against him. It was only then that he realized just how much weaker he was than Elma. Her height was one thing but now that she was holding him up, it was plain as day that this woman could easily carry him by one arm if she wanted; a thought that buried his soul in fear.

Shaking her head at JW’s pitiful attempt to claw himself away from her grasp, Elma decided it was time to call it. “I think it’s safe to say that date is officially off now. I’m looking for a man, not some oafish boy,” she said, pulling him up higher so that his feet were officially dangling in mid-air, “Now, you’ve wasted my time. I put a lot of work into getting ready for tonight and turned down quite a few dates when I accepted yours. So, I expect an apology, Junior!”

“I-I-I’m sorry!” cried JW, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pleaded for forgiveness. Between the brute force of the wedgie and the power behind Elma’s voice, everything was so overwhelming. Unfortunately, the pain from having his undies pulled up for so long had caused him to miss the pings of pain resonating from his bladder. Lost in a haze of humiliation and terror, he helplessly began to wet himself; warm, yellow streams trickling down his legs and dripping onto the carpet.

Elma’s hands stopped fighting against JW’s resistance as an evil smile curled across her lips. Not wanting to give herself away, she quickly suppressed her wicked intentions and instead feigned shock and ignorance. “Are you…fucking kidding me?” she said in a tone of voice that was much too calm given the unfolding events.

From JW’s perspective though, Elma’s calmness only made her words more menacing. As soon as he realized what was happening, his hands rushed to cover his crotch, as if applying external pressure would cause him to stop peeing. His attempts to stem the flow failed spectacularly with the pungent, yellow liquid pooling beneath his socks.

“I don’t know who mothered you but that clearly failed,” said Elma, leaning in so her face was only pinky’s length away from JW’s. In one, swift jerking motion, she stretched JW’s tighty whities to the limit, listening to the cacophonous crackling of fabric beginning to tear all the while, “I think it’s about time someone started over with you.”

*RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!*

Collapsing onto the floor where a pool of his own piss had gathered, it had only taken a few minutes of being in Elma’s townhome for JW to turn into a shell of his former self. Lines of snot and drool bubbled down his face, accenting his uncontrollable tears. Tilting his head toward the floor like a dog who knows they’re in trouble, he couldn’t bear to look up and see Elma waving his tattered, yellow-stained undies over his head. He wanted to run away and never look back but sadly, given that the last scrap of clothing he had on was mercilessly ripped away, he was now stuck under Elma’s thumb until she either dressed him or kicked him out; the latter of which he prayed happened after the former.

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The warmth of the shower felt nice on JW’s raw skin. After falling into a puddle of his own urine, he supposed he should be grateful to Elma for letting him clean himself up, though part of him assumed she only did it to keep him from tracking any more pee around the house. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he cracked the bathroom door open and sheepishly called out, “H-Hey Elma, I’m all done.” “Okay, I’m just picking out stuff for you to wear. Come join me in the room at the end of the hall,” responded Elma, no longer sounding nearly as agitated.

Stepping out of the bathroom, JW peeked into the living room, finding several damp towels placed along the floor. Seeing the aftermath of his accident caused his face to flush instantly. He quickly looked away and B-lined straight for the door at the end of the short hall, hoping that Elma would have the carnage cleared while he got dressed.

As JW entered the room, he expected to find Elma’s bedroom, guest room, or maybe even a home office. What he didn’t expect was for the scent of baby powder to assault his nostrils as soon as he broke the plane into the room. To his surprise, all around him was a meticulously organized nursery done up in soft, pastel colors. It had everything one would expect to see in a baby room, from furnishings such as a changing table, a crib, and a large diaper pail, to a wide selection of toys and baby outfits that would make any infant feel like the luckiest kid in the world.

Why all of this was in such an attractive woman’s house was beyond JW. The first assumption that came to his head was that she must’ve had a kid, which might explain why she was still single this late in her life. However, that theory was thrown out the window as, upon taking a more critical look, he noticed that all of the furnishings were much too large for any baby to interact with. Maybe it was a daycare service? Or perhaps her kid was special needs? Before JW could settle on an answer in his brain, Elma emerged from the closet with a bright orange piece of fabric folded neatly in her hands. “Go ahead and throw this on,” she said, offering the clothing to JW.

Due to the fact that the cloth in his hand was the same color as the shirt he’d shown up in, JW’s brain instantly connected the dots, leading him to assume what he was holding was his own t-shirt. This theory was quickly debunked, though, thanks to the difference in fabric type. Intrigued, he unfurled the folded attire, watching as it rolled past his belly and stopped just above his crotch. Only, unlike a normal shirt, this one seemed to curve back inward at the bottom…and had a set of three buttons lining the bottom hem… “Um, excuse me but I think you gave me a…a onesie?”

“It’s not a mistake,” said Elma nonchalantly, as if nothing was out of place, “Now, hurry up and get it on, but don’t touch the snaps.”

Blushing slightly, JW’s mind refused to believe that Elma actually intended for him to wear such a getup. He chuckled nervously, deciding to play off how mortifying her little prank was. “Haha, very funny. Look, I said I was sorry about the carpet and I promise I’ll pay for a cleaner but this is honestly a pretty tasteless joke,” he said, setting the onesie aside.

Stomping across the nursery, Elma was done with JW’s insolence. She whisked his towel away and grabbed him by the ear and forced him in close. “I don’t think you realized what’s happening here, so let me spell it out for you,” she said, causing his waterworks to slowly reactivate, “I said hurry up and get it on, and do not touch the snaps. Now, are you going to listen, or am I dragging you out of my house butt naked?”

With his lip quivering, a shaken JW picked the onesie back up and began to fit it over his head. It was surprisingly more snug than he thought when initially presented with the outfit, hugging his torso as he shifted the stretchy fabric across his body.

“There, doesn’t that feel much safer and cozier,” said Elma, patting JW’s hair as she took him by the arm and led him to the changing table, “Hop on up so I can finish changing you.”

Taking a step back, JW instinctually shook his head no, well aware of what Elma’s intentions were. “Nononono, you can’t be…s-serious…” he said, his voice trailing off as he looked into Elma’s eyes, only to see how deadly serious she really was. With his digits still clasped within hers, he allowed himself to be guided back to the changing table, where Elma placed her hands on his hips and lifted his butt onto the table. The cool, padded surface of the table caused him to wince ever so slightly.

“See, not so scary, right?” said Elma, her condescending, motherly voice beginning to leak through the cracks of her facade as she placed a diaper flat on the changing table, “I’m going to lay you back now. Try to keep still until I finish, and I’ll make sure you get a lovely reward.”

By this point, JW was locked in place by sheer panic, too afraid to run while also dreading what was to come if he stayed. Losing every ounce of his autonomy with each passing second, he mindlessly allowed Elma to rotate him and lay him back gently, prompting her to slide the diaper under his butt. He felt the air leave his lungs as the plastic surface of the diaper crinkled as he was stationed atop it.

“Breathe, baby boy. I promise it’ll be over before you know it. I am a professional, after all,” said Elma, as she began lathering up his diaper area with lotion, making sure to save his twig and berries for last, “Look at it! It’s even more shriveled up than before! A penis so small it was practically made for diapers.” She giggled, watching the redness pile onto JW’s cheeks from the corner of her eyes. Setting the lotion aside, she grabbed the bottle of baby powder from the changing table’s shelf and made it snow all over her new newborn’s pelvic region.

As the diaper was folded up between his legs, JW felt the last gasp of his material adulthood vanish in thin air as his babyish wardrobe was now complete. He barely recognized himself as he looked down and watched Elma press the onesie’s buttons into place.

Rounding out his ensemble, Elma hoisted a pair of locking, silk mittens and booties onto him, adding to his defenseless dependency. She also popped a pacifier in his mouth, silencing any future protests that might arise. “There we go! Properly dressed and ready for a night in with Mother Elma,” she said as she lifted JW into her arms and held his head close to her chest, “Also, I’d better not see that that paci leave your lips without permission, or else there’ll be consequences. Understand?”

Snuggled up in Elma’s arms, JW nodded compliantly as he fought against the parts of his psyche that gained any sort of enjoyment from this. Sure, being so close to Elma’s enormous E-cups was a blessing for any man but not at the cost of his adulthood! Waking himself from the hypnotic magnetism of

gargantuan gazongas, he worked up the courage to ask a single question from around the nipple of his binky, “C-Can I go home now?”

Approaching their destination, Elma held onto her answer for a little longer, waiting until the perfect moment. She planted a kiss on the tip of his nose as she grabbed onto the pair of straps hanging down from the ceiling and pulled them open wide enough for JW’s legs to slip through. With JW in place, she let him drop into the harness, landing with an adorable *pomf* as his butt slotted in Elma’s adult-sized baby bouncer that was high enough to keep him from ever getting a solid footing.

Before JW could even react to his new surroundings, Elma took hold of both his hands and connected the mittens he was wearing to a chain that was elaborately hung over the bouncer, fixing his arms into a more permanent position. It hadn’t taken nearly as long as she thought it would but the hard part was officially over. With JW locked up in the bouncer with no hope of escaping on his own, things were about to get a lot more fun, especially once her friends arrived.

*KNOCK KNOCK!*

Speaking of the devil, Elma’s mischievous grin returned. “I wonder who that could be. Wait, right here, Junior. Mother Elma will be right back,” she said, skipping to the nursery entrance and making her way toward the front door.

Left alone bobbing up and down, JW could hear the door creak open, followed by a muddle of female voices chattering, though he couldn’t make out who else was talking or what they were conversing about. He considered momentarily threatening to call the cops once Elma came back but decided against it, worried she might retaliate. Closing his eyes, he wished to whoever might be listening for this nightmare to be over, praying that whoever was at the door didn’t get invited back to see him. Sadly, hearing multiple footsteps and voices moving through the hall, he had a feeling that prayer wasn’t going to be answered.

“OMG! You really did a number on him Elma!”

“Yeah, even though it all went to plan, I can’t believe he turned out so perfectly.”

JW didn’t even have to look at who had entered the nursery to know who it was. Those two voices were so burned into his memory that there was no way he could forget. Angling his head toward the door, he confirmed what he already knew. Standing in the doorway with eager expressions were Hannah, his most recent ex-girlfriend, and Kaley, his very first relationship. Confused, horrified, and embarrassed to high heaven, his mouth went slack, resulting in his pacifier dropping to the floor.

TO BE CONTINUED…

PART 2

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Edited by AllySmolShork

#ab/dl #ab/dl art #ab/dl stories #ab/dl girl #ab/dl diaper #diaper art #diaper stories #crissiebaby #diaper messy #dirty diaper #wetting diaper #diaper humiliation #sissybaby #diaper sissy #ab dl #ab dl diaper

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myhauntedsalem · 10 months ago

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The Grim Reaper

The Grim Reaper job is to reap the souls of the recently dead into the afterlife. He is often depicted as a tall pale skeletal figure shrouded in a long, dark, black hooded cloak wielding a scythe which he uses to harvest souls with. His duty is to claim the souls of the decease who he does not kill but merely guides them to the next realm. It is not his place to judge or determine where they are headed.

The Grim Reaper comes for every person, holding an hourglass and when the last grain of sand falls he collects the soul with a swipe of his scythe.

There are actually a surprising number of accounts of people encountering cloaked entities that seem very much keeping with the image of the literal Grim Reaper in both appearance and behavior.

If the Grim Reaper appears in our dreams, it symbolizes a change or the ending of some important phase in our lives and the need to accept that fact. Dreams about the Grim Reaper are common dreams during major life changes and endings of some kind, such as changing jobs, moving to a new place of residence, ending a relationship and entering a new one.

#The Grim Reaper #ghost and hauntings #paranormal #ghost and spirits #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem #Grim reaper #paranormal phenomena #ghosts and spirits #ghosts #spirits

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waywardsalt · 1 year ago

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mmmm a while(ish) back i wrote out a scene from one of my loz aus (the one with an actual name, 'in the court of the crimson king', [often shortened to just 'crimson king']) so uhhhh i edited it a bit to account for some changes made since then and decided to share it here!

(if this is difficult to read for any reason let me know and ill just paste the text in normally)

this was also my first time actually writing bellum for real as opposed to how it works in peus so im still a bit shaky with him

this is meant to be a flashback scene for... somewhere within the story, a lot of the more specific plot details of this au are still murky, but it's the most developed one and most likely to be the next au i actually write. its fun and older than i expected, since my friend was able to find and share some old documents i had shared with him a few years ago and i was surprised to find an early draft for this au in there.

the basic idea of this au is that it is set in a semi-industrial hyrule city, separated into segments (districts?), each of which is run by an anonymous leader who handles both the general matters of their segment as well as being in charge of a lot of crime. bellum is one of the leaders in this scenario.

linebeck lives with his adoptive family (link, aryll, and their grandmother) and helps them make ends meet by going off every other week to earn money through jobs. due to money often being very tight, linebeck secretly moonlights as an urban legend-type figure known as the 'demon of the gray moon', and takes extra jobs ranging from theft to spying to murder, often working directly for bellum, who is a close friend he's known since childhood and the one who helped him cultivate and bring into reality the persona of the demon.

(i need to somehow shorten this synopsis, but there's a lot going on from the start and i have yet to even figure out how things begin, so... it's a work in progress. the plot that takes place has some elements of wind waker and a little bit of phantom hourglass as well as kind of being its own thing)

#my post #uhhhh i dont have an au tag for this one hang on #not gonna tag it with the actual name bc thats gonna put it in tags with like. the band n shit #crimson king au #yeah thats easy #heres some weird thing. with bellum in a humanoid form being linebecks really weird friend. this is the one where theyre kinda homoerotic #even tho this is a fucking ganonbeck au. THE og ganonbeck au of mine #anyways linebeck killing people (usually for money) is a consistent through-line between a lot of my aus #he's kind of just straight up a serial killer in this one #linebeck is like 20-ish in this au and was adopted when he was like 12 btw. hes link n arylls adoptive older brother #ID BE GLAD TO ANSWER ASKS ABT THIS. BTW. THIS ONE HAS BEEN SIMMERING A LOT AND IS THE MOST DEFINED #girl i WISH i could show you the design for the demon of the gray moon outfit im so proud of it #i could probably draw up a really crude idea but rn the mask is kinda inspired by the all night mask in mm and has a bunch of curved horns #also the long description of bellum is bc its my first time writing him w/ that desc and bc this might be an early flashback #my writing #fanfiction

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 1 year ago

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hi! i asked for matchup as anon before, but now i'll to this with my ✨account✨

if it's not a problem of course (⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)

soo could i get matchup for howl's moving castle, bungou stray dogs and one punch man? (⁠｡⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠｡⁠)

my pronouns are she/her

i'm demisexual panromantic

i'm enfp 7w8, leo

i'm 6'0 and have amber eyes, long gold blond curly hair and hourglass figure

i'm positive and upbeat person, i try to see the bright side in most situations

i'm friendly, energetic, confident, sarcastic, responsible, maybe a bit chaotic, cheerful and bubbly

i care about my friends and family a lot, and go out of my way to show it

i enjoy having fun and living life to the fullest

i'm very competitive and passionate person

i really like puzzles, riddles and crosswords

i love making people smile

i have morbid, dark sense of humor

sometimes i randomly say a weird obscure fact in the middle of conversation

i can play on violin, cello, piano, guitar, saxophone, harp and drums, i'm currently learning how to play on trumpet

i like poetry and sometimes i write a poem or two, also i'm writing my book

i'm ballet dancer since i was a kid and i love performing

i'm working on my own cartoon

i never quite grew out of the fantasy phase, and i'm still enamored with tales of changelings and witches

i work as illustrator for fantasy books and books for kids

i'm kinda struggling with taking rest, doing nothing, because there is always something to do, something new to learn, etc.

i'm afraid of stagnation

i overuse this kind of emojis→(⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

my style is something between whimsigothic and cryptidcore

i love: collecting things, astronomy, tea, making and watching movies, forests, making jewelry, cooking, baking, d&d, horrors, animals, plants, gardening, traveling, art, history, world mythologies, learning new things, psychology, handicraft

also i want to thank you for my previous matchup, i loved it ( ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

i hope it's not a problem that i asked again (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠)

if it is, feel free to ignore my ask!

have a wonderful and fantastic day!

(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Hi! Absolutely you can get another matchup! I'm glad you liked the last one. Sorry this one took a while. I hope you like your matchups!

In Howl's Moving Castle, I match you with...

Sophie loves both your positivity and your sarcasm. You’re very similar to her in that way and she likes that you can bond over things like tormenting Howl.

Loves listening to you play music. I see Sophie as someone who is too shy to dance but is actually surprisingly good at it.

There’s no stagnation to be found in this relationship! Between getting on the wrong side of witches, travelling around in the moving castle, and getting caught up in Howls’ shenanigans, you and Sophie both have your hands full.

Sophie would enjoy cooking and baking with you. She’s glad there’s someone else around who is responsible enough to help out around the castle. Plus, it’s nice being able to spend time with you.

She would also love gardening with you. She finds it relaxing and you both get to contribute to the layout of the garden. If you have any interest in the meaning behind flowers, Sophie will read up on them and put messages into her flower arrangements while gardening.

Very good at helping you take rests. She’s got a magic touch when it comes to those sorts of things and knows exactly when you need to take a break. She’ll lure you away from whatever you were doing with the promise of freshly cooked food and cuddles.

In Bungo Stray Dogs, I match you with...

Stagnation? With Dazai around? I don’t think so. This guy will find a way to turn even the most boring routine into a chaotic mess.

Hope you like your plans getting derailed every few minutes because that’s what’s going to happen when you’re in a relationship with Dazai.

He loves your sense of humour so much. He’s got some issues and covers them up with dark humour so he’s glad you have the same style. He feels better making those sorts of jokes knowing they won’t make you uncomfortable.

Dazai would love to read anything you write. In his eyes whatever you’ve written is wonderful but he will always try to give you balanced feedback; some things he liked, some things you could improve on.

Dazai also struggles with taking care of himself and having breaks. Set alarms to go off through your day and every time they rouse you from your work, you both have to have a snack, drink some water, and have a quick walk around the house/office/wherever you are.

It’s good for both your mental and physical health. Plus, it keeps fights to a minimum in your relationship since neither of you are pushing yourselves past the breaking point.

In One Punch Man, I match you with...

Okay, hear me out! I think you and Saitama would get along really well. You both dislike stagnation, it’s just that Saitama has found himself in a situation where that’s the one constant in his life.

With all your hobbies, Saitama will dedicate himself to learning everything he can about all of them. That way, no matter what you’re doing or talking about, he knows enough to provide constructive comments.

He is also better able to appreciate the work that goes into all of your hobbies this way.

Please get him into D&D. Having a weak character is a nice change for him and I think he would enjoy the escapism of the game. Just be careful he doesn’t level up too fast…

Your positivity is a nice change of pace for Saitama. He’s surrounded by angsty and serious people all the time so you’re a nice break away from all that.

But at the same time, he loves your sarcasm. It might take a while for him to start showing emotions around you since he’s not a super expressive person to begin with, but whenever you make a sarcastic comment, you’ll catch a small smile on his face.

#writing #fanfic #matchup #matchup request #request #howl's moving castle #sophie hatter #bungo stray dogs #osamu dazai #one punch man #saitama

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volucerrubidus · 2 years ago

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You wouldn't believe the weird time she's had. There's been snooping and sleuthing and some minor stealing, but did it really count if you stole it from a thief? ...Irrelevant. So is how late past her bedtime it is. The important things is that she thinks she's figured it out and wants to help.

"Red! I'mma be honest, you don't look so good."

Misc. Asks II Inbox: Open

Tim's gotten around 7 hours and 48 minutes of sleep by the time night falls. Not quite 8, but it doesn't matter because it's close enough, and their window of time is already narrowing. The first 48 hours are draining from the hourglass faster than the entire family can even blink, not to mention get a good lead.

They could brute force Amusement Mile, but there's no guarantee that Joker wouldn't just kill Jason the moment they come crashing through windows.

There's technically not even a good guarantee that Joker is behind it. They certainly aren't devoting much time to other theories, of course, but a horrible little fear has settled into Tim that keeps whispering. "What if you're searching in the wrong places?"

He needs to get Jason back. If they're wrong about Joker...

But, no. Jason has been investigating her, right under their noses, the entire time. There is nothing else that it could be but her intervention.

So he focuses his attention instead on trying to invent some way to lure her from the park. If they can get her out for a while, then they can get some operatives in, and they can spring Jason without her even knowing.

What he hasn't accounted for, though, was the fact that the news of Jason's disappearance might spread further than the family could have expected. This isn't a bad thing, but it is a surprise--

Which shows up in Gotham in the form of Melvin.

He glances at her, eyebrows raised, and he wonders what she's seeing that gives him away (...okay, so, it might be easier to tell than he thinks. He's been a mess since yesterday morning), but after a moment, he offers her a wobbly smile.

"Hey there, fellow Titan. I'm... holding it together. How are you? What brings you all the way to our city? Have you been careful? It's, uh... a little more dangerous these days, than it usually is. I'm glad you found me; Titans should stick together, you know?"

#[presumably this is set last night alsjdf so sorry i was late!]#{answered asks}#[my brainpower went out the window by the end of the day yesterday lajsdkl]#lilmelvin

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kerrikles · 6 months ago

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Okay, so I've never played Fallout, but I do have some thoughts about wild takes on history.

(keep reading for some sleep-deprived rambling)

I understand that it seems far-fetched to believe something like that. But here are some fucking wack things that are pretty commonly believed about the very real Victorian era, which was less than 200 years ago (Queen Victoria ruled from 1837-1901):

- some women had their ribs surgically removed to make themselves have the perfect hourglass figure

- ankles were considered mind-numbingly erotic and a mere flash of the ankle was scandalous, and they had to cover furniture legs because they were too evocative of that salacious body part

- there were no people of colour in Victorian England (yikes)

- corsets were torturous and their only purpose was to make women subservient and sexy

- vibrators were invented to cure women of hysteria via orgasms

- all Victorians were huge prudes

All of these are wrong. On so many levels. Why are these beliefs and myths so common? We didn't even have our entire civilization collapse in the last 200 years like in Fallout. We have extensive records, first hand accounts, books, diaries, photographs, and more, that show what life was actually like.

Like, actually think about the rib removal thing for a second. Germ theory was new and hotly contested. Surgeons wore bloody aprons with pride, and washing your hands was something only a few wack jobs did before it gradually started to catch on. General anaesthetic was in the process of being invented and refined, and modern surgery as we know it wouldn't even exist until the 20th century. And we had such a poor understanding of human anatomy (because of religious prohibitions for centuries) that doctors were paying body snatchers to take corpses just so they could study them so they could try to figure out what the fuck they were doing.

Why in the fuck would women be getting major, extremely risky, experimental cosmetic abdominal surgery, with no/extremely new and barely (or just un-)tested painkillers, done by a man who hasn't washed his hands or equipment after cutting open like 7 other people that day, with about a 50% mortality rate for surgery in general, for the sake of getting a figure that she can achieve infinitely easier and painlessly (and far more affordably) by just padding out her bust and hips to make her waist look smaller proportionally, which is what everyone fucking did in the period?

Like, it's a certifiably fucking batshit take. Literally nothing about it makes sense, and we have SO MUCH EVIDENCE to show that no, that didn't fucking happen.

And yet. The myth, she persists.

Why?

Because people love a good story more than the truth.

Does it grab people's attention? Is it crazy enough to be interesting, but with j u s t enough plausibility based on your extremely rudimentary and heavily popular culture-influenced view on history sprinkled in to make people think it could just maybe be true?

Hell yeah, good enough, spread that story far and wide. Make people's eyes go wide, make them laugh and shake their heads at how primitive people used to be, make them feel just a little superior to the people of the past. It becomes a fun fact that is often recited and believed without question; or at least people can't be assed to fact check it. But maybe they heard it as a kid from someone they trust, and that's basically the same thing as objective fact, right? They tell it at a party or as a silly anecdote, and pass it on, infecting the next person with insidious, but mostly harmless, misinformation.

It happens all the time in the real world. All. The. Time. We love distorting history for lulz, and to make ourselves feel superior to the way people were just soooo weird and wacky and backwards in the past. And as I said earlier, we didn't have an apocalypse destroy or make unavailable massive amounts of information, to excuse that. It's all there, baby.

This is just how people do. So I don't find it unrealistic at all that at least some people in Fallout 4 would believe that ye olde baseball was a savage sport. Humans are natural storytellers and bullshitters. We love to embellish and distort things for the sake of a good story. I would be more surprised if there weren't egregious tales about our time period distorted beyond recognition in that world, tbh.

Todd Howard’s brain is equal parts American idolatry, stupidity, and a pathological need to lie

#fallout #rambles #my thoughts #history #I've had like 4 hours of sleep over the last 2 days I'm sorry if it's incoherent #please check out Kaz Rowe on youtube they have some awesome videos on Victorian mythbusting #not my only source but they're a very fun and accessible one

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mothrafanfics · 4 months ago

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So there is a Mrs. Captain Price? (Reboot)

Amelia Grace (nee Kensington) Price

'Gracie'

Birthday: March 2nd 1986

Brief description: 5'3"/160cm, around 125 pounds, hourglass figure, natural ginger, emerald eyes, and freckled.

Grew up in a middle class family, uncle and dad served in the British Army and Navy respectively. Growing up, she always had a knack for baking, cooking, and of the like. Her aunt had opened a bakery called Kensington's Treasury, which Amelia helped out at from secondary schooling moving forward. Balancing working and schooling, she obtained a degree in Culinary Arts. With a minor in accounting.

Met John as he was just barely starting of his Military career. He was introduced to the Kensington's by a fellow recruit. A friendship formed between them in turn blossomed into a steady companionship. Like most relationships, they do have ups and down. Sometimes the down hit worse, as the kind of job John does. He worries over their safety. Especially after what happened at Piccadilly. Her resurance is what cause him to continue. Worse case, she heads to her Father's farm.

#FAN FIC OC: AMELIA GRACE KENSINGTON | MW REBOOT #》 Fan Fic OC

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blurpleuni-squid · 5 months ago

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Preview of a book I’m writing called Wanderlust. Premiss is a bunch of misfit kids live life by hitching rides on trains, one day they take the wrong train and end up on a train to another world.

This is a draft of a scene much later of one of the main characters (Evan) and her backstory before she met the other main characters (Sebastian, aka the kids she’s supposed to ‘take care of’)

❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀

Koshechka moved with purpose through the labyrinthine corridors of the underground fighting ring. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and the unmistakable musk of raw, primal aggression. She was here on business, her sharp mind and sharper tongue making her invaluable to Don white, the imposing crime boss who ran this brutal underworld empire. Aka her boss and best client.

Today, she was doing the accounting for the latest series of fights, a task that required her to ensure the books balanced and the odds were rigged just enough to keep the gamblers coming back for more. Her bubble gum pink hair stood out in the dimly lit, smoke-filled arena, and her freckled face betrayed no emotion as she calculated the night's profits. The roaring of the crowd, the clash of flesh and bone, all faded into the background as she focused on her work.

The fighters, burly men and women covered in tattoos and scars, moved like shadows in the dim light, their grunts and cries echoing through the cavernous space. Evangeline's tan skin glowed under the flickering lights, and her full hourglass figure drew appreciative glances from the patrons and fighters alike. But she paid them no mind; her eyes were fixed on the numbers, her mind a fortress of concentration, not like any one of those meaty men could afford her.

It was in the midst of this controlled chaos that her Boss, Don, as he was known to most, approached her. His tall, burly frame cast a long shadow over her, and his presence commanded immediate attention. The snake tattoo coiled around his neck seemed almost alive in the low light, its eyes glinting with the same cold calculation that Tobias himself possessed.

“Nice work, Koshechka,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that cut through the din. “Here’s your—”

“Not to deny extra cash, just picturing you sending someone to bust my windows, but this seems like a lot more than my cut,” she interrupted, not even looking up from her ledger.

“Heh, you’re funny, kitty. But nah, I got some rat I need you to scare off. He’s been scamming my casinos,” Tobias replied, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Sounds like a problem, but I ain’t pest control. Why not get one of your new pets to do it?” she shot back, finally meeting his gaze.

“Aww, kitty, you know you’re my favorite girl,” Tobias said with a smirk.

“Keep it in your pants, Don. You know my hours,” she retorted, rolling her eyes.

“Mhm, can’t wait till Monday,” he murmured, his tone suggestive.

“Whatever—just answer, you nasty bit—”

“Retract those claws, Koshechka. I just mean you’re far more efficient, and I don’t need him dead, just incapacitated. He’s on the young side, so I’mma give him a warning. Feeling good after these wins,” he explained, his expression turning serious.

“Fine, but I’mma need more than this. I’m assuming you don’t have a clue where he could be? You at least have a picture?” she asked, her tone now businesslike.

“Here’s a file my men put together for you. Including pay. This is half upfront, and you will be paid the rest later. I’ll leave the rest to you,” Tobias said, handing her a thick envelope.

“Huh, leave me to do all the dirty work, really nitty-gritty stuff,” she said, licking her lips.

“Sorry, doll. Besides, I know you like it when things are hard,” he purred, his eyes burning with a flickering flame.

“Oh, mr white sir, you know me so well.” She responded, “How come I don’t have a dock on time?” She moved her seat closer to the coffee table which separated them. He mimicked her movements equally as slowly, palms on the surface of the oak.

“You catch on quick, my pretty kitty. I know you won’t take long; the kid’s not exactly quick on his feet,” Tobias said, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

“You sure it’s not 'cause you’re sweet on me?” she teased, elbows now on the table and face cradled in her palms, even closer than before.

“I can’t completely reject that premise,” he leaned his weight on the dead wood again, mirroring her movements, his face wearing a sultry grin.

“Mmh, maybe you don’t have to wait for Monday,” she whispered, faces inches apart.

“Gasp, is my lustful little kitten willing to make an exception for wittle old me?” he teased back, his voice a low growl.

“Just maybe. If you want—”

“Yes! I mean—” he shouted eagerly, frightening her back into her seat. “Wait, I’m sorry, I—”

She giggled, her voice ringing across the room. Her sweet sounds turned his face red, and he turned bashfully.

“Aww, is someone a little eager?” she looked up at him, eyes trailing down his body, landing on the tent between his legs.

“Huh—” he followed her gaze and fell back into his chair, crossing his legs in embarrassment. “Shut up,” his face expression still cold as ice but body burning in anticipation. “It’s just you never seem so—happy? I guess participating and you initiating is really like I—fuck, just,” he covered his face in shame, finally showing his age.

“Aww, sweetheart.” She started undressing. She doesn’t feel sexual attraction or love at all, which made her job easier. She only felt any attachment or attraction toward someone when she got to know them. But when she did, she felt so strongly it hurt her, so she avoided making any friends. “I—I have some kind of feeling for you which makes me want you deeply… I don’t know how to express this, and it’s scary, but for some strange reason, I trust you. So I—” she walked around the table, leaning forward, stroking his face. Her hands moved down his neck, torso, and landed on his belt. She sat her naked body on his lap, body trembling. “Please take care of me, Tobi.”

His eyes widened, mouth agape, brain not able to function. The seconds felt like hours. Her face glowed red.

“F-fine, that was stupid of me. Let's jus—” she began, shifting to get off his lap, but he grabbed her hips.

“No,” he breathed.

“The fuck you mean, no?”

He placed his lips on hers with a fiery passion, hand pulling her hips impossibly close. “I promise you, Evan, I’ll take care of you the rest of our lives.” He ground up into her, and her manicured hands worked at taking his belt off, pulling his pants down with his boxers, desperate to feel him.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just proposed to me—” she murmured.

“What if I did?” he mumbled, throwing his shirt over his head. “What if I was? Do you wanna be a pretty wife? My wife?” He shook his pants off, bouncing her slightly on his thighs, making her tits bounce. As he watched them, he had this overwhelming urge to lick and suck her pretty pink nipples raw. “Mmm, look at these. Does just the thought of being my wife make you that horny?”

She looked away and nodded. He flicked them harshly, making her whimper.

“Fuck, that’s so hot.” Without a second thought, he attached his lips to the hard little nub.

“Mmm, Tobi, no, please, I wanna—” she let out a breathy moan, tracing the dark lines of the tattoo on his neck. Don mindlessly sucked and played with her tits, using both hands to stimulate her. He sloppily licked between her breasts, from her cleavage to her navel, tasting the salty beads of her sweat. He watched her round bosom spill into his palms.

“I love hearing such whiney sounds from your mouth.” He pulled her nipples, now soaked with saliva, harshly to hear her whine his name.

“Yes, I love it when you say my name. Now tell me what you want me to do now.” Evan’s thighs shook with anticipation, feeling sticky from her dripping arousal. She rubbed her stomach, coated with his precum.

“I want you inside me.”

“Whatever my pretty kitty wants.” He moved to grab a condom from his pants on the floor, but she grabbed the tip of his dick, making him shiver.

"Fuck!" he moaned loudly.

"I want you to fill me with your cum until I can taste it."

Tobias drooled at the thought of fucking her raw. "Shit, baby," he moaned, taking her hands off him. Evan, feeling like she had crossed a line, quickly retracted her hands to her chest in fear. Seeing her uncertainty, Tobias softened, pulling her close to his chest before standing up, cradling her as if she were precious. He carried her to the bedroom connected to his office, his lips never leaving her skin as he kissed her neck and face lovingly. Evan bathed in the attention he was giving her, a large smile spreading across her face as she felt his warmth and affection.

The dim light of the office bedroom cast soft shadows across Tobias's sharp features, highlighting the contrast between his albino skin and the dark tattoos that covered his body. "Damn kitty, it's real hard to walk with this raging boner," Tobias hissed, unintentionally breaking the romantic atmosphere.

"Way to kill the mood, Tobi," Evan said with a displeased look, though her legs remained tightly wrapped around his waist. She reached out to help him turn the doorknob, her touch gentle and reassuring.

Tobias chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest as he carried her to the large, inviting queen-sized bed. The bed was a stark contrast to the harshness of his office-a soft sanctuary draped in luxurious, dark linens. "Brace yourself," he warned with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"For what-" Before she could finish, he spun around and threw himself onto the bed, holding her close. The sudden movement made her bounce slightly, a surprised squeak escaping her lips.

She glared at him, her eyes narrowing, but his smile was so infectious that she couldn't help but laugh at his playful antics. The tension between them melted away, replaced by a shared joy and anticipation. They lay there for a moment, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around them like a warm blanket, their laughter blending into the quiet hum of the room.

As the morning sun began to filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the tangled mess of sheets, Evangeline found herself in a moment of quiet contemplation. Her gaze lingered tenderly on the man beside her, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm as steady as the beating of her own heart.

After hours of intimate entanglement, she marveled at the unexpected tenderness of their connection. It was a sensation she had long believed herself incapable of experiencing, yet here she was, entwined with a man whose very presence ignited a fire within her soul.

With a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips, Evangeline gently traced the contours of his face, her fingers dancing over the rough edges of his stubble. He lay there, blissfully unaware, his goofy smile and drool-laden slumber a stark contrast to the formidable reputation he commanded by day.

"What a dummy," she murmured affectionately, the endearment a testament to the complexity of their relationship. Despite his status as both a crime boss and her employer, he was, in this moment, nothing more than a vulnerable man lost in the depths of sleep.

Reflecting on the unspoken rules that governed their interactions, Evangeline couldn't help but marvel at the ways in which he had effortlessly dismantled her defenses. Each breach of protocol, from the absence of condoms to the forbidden kisses and post-coital cuddles, served as a poignant reminder of his ability to unravel the carefully constructed barriers around her heart.

And yet, for all her resistance, she found herself willingly surrendering to the warmth of his embrace, basking in the glow of his affection. He was more than just a client; he was a confidant, a companion, and, against all odds, the object of her deepest affections.

As she watched him twitch and smile in his slumber, a wave of tenderness washed over her, akin to the gentle caress of a summer breeze. In his vulnerability, she found solace, a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of their clandestine world.

With a contented sigh, Evangeline nestled closer to him, her heart swelling with a love that defied all logic and reason. For in the quiet intimacy of their shared embrace, she had found a sanctuary—a place where the complexities of their lives melted away, leaving nothing but the simple purity of two souls intertwined in the sweet embrace of love.

As Tobias bolted awake, startled by the sudden jolt of laughter, Evangeline couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his bleary-eyed confusion. With a gentle touch, she wiped away the drool that had escaped the corners of his mouth, her affectionate gesture met with a sheepish grin.

"What's so funny, honey?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Nothing, just you. You drool like a bulldog, you know," she teased, her laughter tinkling like wind chimes in the morning breeze.

"Sorry, baby. Tongue's too big for my mouth," he quipped, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Not that you ever complained," he added with a wink, his playful banter eliciting a giggle from Evangeline.

As they rose from the tangled sheets, their playful banter continued, punctuated by affectionate touches and shared laughter. The air was filled with the sweet scent of soap and steam as they made their way to the bathroom, hand in hand, eager to wash away the remnants of the night's passion.

Settling into the warmth of the large tub, Evangeline leaned back against Tobias's chest, his strong arms enveloping her in a comforting embrace. The water lapped gently at their skin, creating a soothing rhythm that matched the steady beat of their hearts.

"Did you mean it?" she whispered softly, her voice barely above a murmur.

"Mean what, kitty?" Tobias replied, his breath warm against her ear.

"About taking care of me," she clarified, her tone tinged with vulnerability.

"Yes," he replied without hesitation, his voice filled with sincerity. "My pretty kitty, it doesn't matter because I meant it. I want you to be happy, and I want you by my side, forever."

Evangeline felt tears welling in her eyes, emotions swirling within her like a tempestuous storm. Tobias leaned in close, his warmth enveloping her, his words a soothing balm to her wounded soul.

"Evan, if that's not what you want, then tell me, and I'll do whatever you-" he began, his voice faltering with concern.

"No, I want that. I want you," she interrupted, her voice trembling with raw emotion.

In that moment, as they sat entwined in the warmth of the bath, their souls laid bare before each other, Evangeline knew that she had found something worth fighting for.

And as Tobias held her close, his love surrounding her like a shield, she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her heart—a hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to build a future together, one bath at a time.