#so much pain in that rubber body of his

[ace-no-isha]

one thing i can say is no one loves luffy like i do he is my baby forever i do not care

[miodiodavinci]

well 😔 after literally 3+ years of masking and double masking with N95s and KN95s and social distancing and not going anywhere where i can't be assured i won't be in close proximity to someone with COVID ya boy got COVID , , , ,

[skyrigel]

Grim Reaper! Simon x f!reader | tw: death

Grim Reaper! Simon who's supposed to take you away, between life and death, after and before, here and gone.

Grim Reaper! Simon who watched you all day, couldn't help the cold dread that clouded him because you were so full of life, despite the mess, you woke up and made your coffee. Choosing your clothes and saving that very expensive dress for some other time, some special day — not knowing this is the last, your most special. Instead picking on that shirt you loved for it's colour, not knowing it would end up only red.

Grim Reaper! Simon who stood helplessly when life was squashed out of you. One moment of extreme pain and then nothing at all. People screaming and pitying and murmuring, while you clutched your chest and raised above, looking around — blinking and confused, until you looked down and your pupils widened. Oh..gone.

Grim Reaper! Simon who clasped your hand as you cried and lamented, a life you hated so much and yet you loved it just the same. Glancing back at the flesh, hands outstretched as if begging you to not leave, same eyes, same face, same fucking everything — just lifeless.

Grim Reaper! Simon who held your soul as you wept and sobbed, it wasn't your fault...you were just trying to save the puppy, it wasn't — but now you were dead. No prayer would count. And these people around you, they're just watching your lifeless frame while you cry and cry.

Grim Reaper! Simon who knew how it went, one snap and you were truly gone to the other side. “T-this it it ? Is this the end ?” you sobbed more, remembering your goodbyes, did you tell you mum that you loved her, or did you tell dad his burnt toast were your favourite, did your friend knew they were so amazing and you loved them ?

Grim Reaper! Simon who could read your mind, “No. Come now.” he echoed, lifting you away from your dead body, just flesh that resembled you, all those things that made you a real person crumbled under those rubber tyre, now nothing but memories.

Grim Reaper! Simon who shaked his skeleton of a head, covered with his ghostly black hood, swaying like cloak behind him. You wouldn't stop crying, he couldn't bear that. “No, sweetheart.” He traced your jaw, letting those tears vapour in a whoosh,“Not yet. Not so soon. Not for you.”

Grim Reaper! Simon who took you back to your apartment, letting you take it all, your fingertips against smiling people trapped behind glasses, your cat purring in her cushion, notes sticked around, empty checkboxes that would never get ticked.

Grim Reaper! Simon who held above the dress you'd saved. “You would look so lovely.” he kept, ‘You always do.’ to himself, he sat as you licked the last bit of Nutella and patted your cat, oblivious to so many things.

Grim Reaper! Simon who took you to the beach because you never got time to go one, never had anyone to go with you. Now was the time and company.

Grim Reaper! Simon who sat beside you watching the last bits of rays disappearing into nothingness, letting sky turn darker and stars twinkle in it's wake.

Grim Reaper! Simon who might be smiling just a bit when you want to go for a night walk, with no fear and no worries. He's swaying behind you, while you are almost flying with new freedom, a new sense of living or dead taking over you. There was a before that you loved but there's also an after that awaits. It's okay, Simon had said. It's going to be okay.

Grim Reaper! Simon who took you on rooftop because you wanted to see the city, the whole fucking city. “How you wanted to go ?” He found himself speaking, he never did that, it's a simple affair — guide them to the other side, that's it. You rewarded him with a smile, “Like this.” You whispered, he would hear it anyway, “I wanted to be gone like this...on my own will, L-like —” You choked on your own words, “— to jump from a very tall somthing.” and that's the irony, your life was squashed out of you, no fall and no wind smashing your face and nothing like you thought.

Grim Reaper! Simon who would grant all your wishes, “Come” he said, the second time. First, he said it when he was pulling you back while your eyes were struck on those that belonged to you, the very same but truly empty — gone before it's time.

Grim Reaper! Simon who wanted you to be happy, forever if he could help it. He took your hand in his and floated to the edge, across the horizon. There's sun rising from new beginnings, “I can't die a second time.” you laughed, a soft choke in your throat. Your stomach twisted in your guts and it's shouldn't be like this. You should feel empty and whatever void meant to be, but this knot wouldn't let go.

Grim Reaper! Simon who shook his ghost of head, tilting his head affectionately to you, “No. but you can live.”

Grim Reaper! Simon who took the fall with you, in the dress you always wanted to wear, smelling like all the things you loved, your city and salt and your favourite perfume. A smile that was forever young and true. There with him, between life and death.

Please always take care. Someone somewhere loves you so much and you mean the world to them. Please remember, please know you're loved and blessed and mean so much more than you think. Xoxo.

Masterlist

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[reiderwriter]

🕯 Ring of Fire 🕯

Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x dom!Female reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge (sort of lol)

Requested: could you do glasses sub!spencer realizing he has a wax play kink? yk maybe reader accidentally spills her wax melt off her desk at work and it goes on to spencer making him realize he’s into it so the next day he picks up sex wax and he asks her to do it when they get home?

Warnings: BDSM themes, standard case details mentioned, temperature play, wax play, dry humping, thigh riding, hand job, penetrative sex (p in v), overstimulation, implied cream pie, choking, mentions of rope play, sub!Spencer and dom!reader, dumbification/bimbofication.

A/N: This one was just for fun. I literally already crossed off the free space. This is just for shits and giggles. Well. Enjoy?

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“So you're telling me our vic was turned into a candle?” Morgan mused from the corner of the room, frowning down at the new body in front of him. Or at least where the body had been a half hour ago, the only sign remaining being the errant drops of wax strewn about the bed and the caution tape closing your entire crew into the room. 

“Not exactly,” Emily said from the other corner, pulling up a pair of fluffy handcuffs with a pen from her jacket and dropping it into the evidence bag JJ held out to her. 

“So a kinky candle, got it,” you smiled, looking over at the other goodies Emily had uncovered. 

“Morgan, those candles, can you check what kind of wax they are?” Spencer said from the corner, looking up with that look on his face. Half curious, half flipping through the deck of index cards he had stored in the filing cabinet of his brain, looking for the right piece of information. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared intently over at Morgan, waiting for his answer.

“It says they're organic beeswax candles.”

“There's also some soy candles stored here in the closer, Spencer,” JJ pointed out, waiting, as you all were, for his brain to click the right information into place. 

“The victim seems obviously well versed in BDSM. He seems to be a seasoned submissive, but…” 

“But what?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the excitement the words submissive coming from Spencer created in you. 

“The melting point of beeswax is 143-149° Fahrenheit. It's unsafe for temperature play, and it would have caused intense pain if not second or third-degree burns on his body. That's why he has the soy candles. Their melting point is as low as 114°. Those are the candles he was expecting.”

The shared looks around the room said that you were all contemplating the implications of his rambling. 

“So that candle isn't part of his collection, but something the unsub bought himself,” Hotch concluded for the team. “Good work, Spencer.”

The room cleared quickly after that, with each team member assigned different roles and tasks to keep the momentum going until it was just you and Spencer left, searching for anything else that could be helpful. He had a keen eye, and you… well, you were great at directing him. 

“That was clever,” you said, pulling on your rubber gloves and getting to work rooting through the kink closet. “With the wax.”

“Thanks,” he said, and something aching and feminine crushed through you as you noted the small stammer in his voice, the hesitant blush on his cheeks.

“You have such a lot of knowledge up there,” you said, tapping your forehead, so he could get the full picture, making sure you had his attention before you dropped to your knees and started your searching. 

“Hmm?” He said, and you knew he wasn't listening anymore. His eyes had glazed over behind those glasses, and even the glare in them couldn't hide that his gaze was entirely on you.

Spencer had always been sharp as a whistle, thinking too much for his own good. Until you had crawled into his bed that first time and convinced him that giving up thinking altogether really was for the best. 

Since then, it really hadn't been all that hard to convince him to turn it off and release that stress. 

“You know a lot about wax, is all,” you said, shrugging him off with a bored look and not bothering to look back at him. You knew that you'd just see a man desperate for your attention staring back at you anyway. 

“It seems like you had experience.”

“Ah, um, no, ahem,” he squeaked, clearing his throat quickly. “No…experience, I just... read about it once?” He was so nervous, he seemed suddenly so unsure of himself.

You finally smiled up at him from your place on the floor, watching him move around trinkets on the victims desk before looking back at you. 

“Good,” you said and stood up, confident that his eyes and thoughts wouldn't leave you now. 

“But if you ever find yourself curious, you know where I’ll be.”

You weren't expecting him to accept your invitation quickly. You'd admitted to yourself that anything remotely case related quite so soon was probably in poor taste. One case opened and closed and then another, and you'd fucked him in countless motel beds and against various walls before he mentioned it again. 

But there came a knock at your door one night, and you knew. 

“Spencer,” you said, smiling as innocently as you could, a little breathy from the quick sprint over to the front door of your apartment. 

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said, eyes tracing down his body to the traces of fatigue scattered across his body. The shirt sleeves pushed haphazardly up to his elbows, the tie undone, the shirt crumpled. You grinned harder as you saw the bag in his hand. 

“I… I thought we could..”

You softly grabbed his tie and walked back into your apartment, pulling him along with you as he still struggled to find the right words. 

“You thought we could try something new?” You asked. He nodded.

“Is the something new in that bag?” You asked. He nodded again. 

“Is that something new going to make your big cock nice and hard for me?” You asked. He blushed a fierce red and nodded again, as you stepped forward and started stroking him over his pants. 

“You know I want to hear your voice, Spencer. You need to be a good boy or we can't play with your nice new toy.”

“Y-Yes.” He said, eyes already squeezing shut in pleasure as you pressed against him, free hand wrestling his bag from his grip. 

“On the bed. Shirt off, pants off. Leave your underwear on for now, and don't you dare start without me,” you ordered and he quickly ran to obey your orders. After all, he already knew what happened when he didn't listen nicely. 

"Oh, and Spencer?" You said as he paused in the doorway. "Keep the glasses on."

You grabbed the candle out of the bag, finding the box of matches you kept in your kitchen drawers, and stepped out of your own clothes before joining him, the red set you'd donned that day being more than sufficient for teasing him. 

“Look at you, so pathetic for me,” you giggled, as you climbed over him, straddling his thighs as you lit the candle, making sure to avoid his crotch, to avoid giving him any accidental pleasure. 

“Y/N,” he whimpered, hands strewn up above his head, tangling in the sheets. He was so very used to not being able to touch that you didn't even need to tie him up these days. 

As you ground down into his thighs, effectively riding him and pleasuring yourself, he moaned and shook beneath you, the pressure of restraining himself almost unbearable. Almost.

You knew his limits, and he knew his safe word. 

“I think it's ready, my sweet. Shall we sate your curiosity?”

“Yes, yes, please, Y/N,” he whined, as your hand finally found its way to his cock again. 

You held the candle just above his stomach and let a single drop flow out, landing on his abdomen. He twitched and arched his back up, thrusting his cock further into your hand. 

You did it again, and his moans were electric as you rubbed your pussy against him harder, needier than before. 

You covered his stomach and chest in the hot wax as he fucked your hand, your fingers pushing under his underwear to grip his cock, letting him hiss at the skin to skin contact with each spasm.

“Good boy,” you said, but your heart wasn't in it. You were too taken with him, his cute sharp face, his rounded glasses, his lips spread in a delicious moan. You were too desperate for him to truly tease him at that point. You needed your pleasure as well. 

Already soaked from his sounds and his strong thigh, you pushed your red panties to the side and dropped yourself down onto his cock. The only thing stabilizing you at that moment was the hand that had slipped to his neck, your other too busy making sure the candle was upright as you pushed up and down on him, desperate to not ruin your sheets with wax. 

They were already sure to be soaked through after this, but you'd washed cum out of them before. You weren't sure you'd be able to wash hard wax out. 

You took your pleasure in him as he continued to thrust up into you, like an animal in heat that is simply desperate for any release it can get. 

With the wax still hot, you pushed upright and let it drip on him again. 

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“How does it feel?” 

“H-hot. And good. Really good.” He winced, hands covering his face as he held back his orgasm, knowing you gave the orders.

You yourself felt hot. You felt good. And, most importantly, you felt curious. 

“S-Spencer,” you said, leaning down so your lips were practically kissing just below his ear. 

“I want you to burn me.” 

His eyes shot open, his hands racing to cup your ass cheeks as he stilled himself, forcing air in and out of his lungs. 

You put the candle on the nightstand and rolled onto your back, bringing him with you until your legs were wrapped around his waist and his head was pressed between your breasts, aa if startled by the movement and seeking comfort.  

His cock twitched inside you again and you were sure you were close. You just needed to feel him again. 

“Show me, Spencer. Show me what it was that made you so desperate to cum for me,” you whispered, pushing your hips up to meet his, urging him to move. 

Steadily, his hand reached out for the candle and he held it in his hands, moving back to a kneeling position as he got ready to use it. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows and watched as he pushed into you, one hand on your hip, and finally, agonizingly slowly, sent a single drip towards the tops of your breasts. 

“FUCK,” you screamed, grabbing his hand on your hip as you threw your head back onto the pillow. 

It was hot. It was so hot you thought for sure it'd burn right through you, but it felt good. 

You looked to the wax on your breast as he let another drip fall out and decorate the other. 

Your hips twitched, you pushed upwards and you came on his cock, whimpering and moaning just like he had done earlier.

“Good job… Good boy,” you panted as he let another drip go, never content to leave you with just a single orgasm if he himself hadn't cum yet. 

He thrust harder and harder as he put the candle down, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck and nuzzling in there. His glasses were an uncomfortable weight at your shoulder blade, but you welcomed the pain.

“Thank you,” he repeated, again and again, until you were certain it was the only thing he could remember, his hands tracing the bumps of wax over your body. 

You did the same, stroking his stomach as you grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. 

He came with a grunt, and you pushed him onto your back and rode out his orgasm as you chased your second, letting it crash through you moments later. 

Collapsing onto his chest, you let his hands wrap around you, pulling you in, ever as you were aware of the uncomfortable notches of hard wax decorating both of you. 

“Soy wax, right?” You asked, catching your breath. He nodded. 

“It washes off, right?” You asked. He nodded, blinking his eyes open again and staring at you quickly. 

He sealed your mouth against his ans held you tenderly there for a second before pulling you up into a sitting position, cock still warmed in your cunt. 

“We should go and find that out,” he said, shyly nodding towards your bathroom as you smiled and grinned straight back at him. 

[touchyluffy]

“Straw Hat’s Sweetie will make us rich!” The enemy pirates cheered, holding a gun to your forehead. "He'll come for you and we'll get his bounty, too!" Their captain laughed loudly.

You had let your guard down. As you shopped through the most recent island the Sunny had docked, an elderly looking man had fallen next to you and as you went to help him, ropes went around your waist and a blindfold covered your eyes. And that leads you to now, trapped in what looks like a a giant steel dome.

You sighed as the pirates kept singing about how rich they would be. If you could get your arms free, you'd teach them how tough Straw Hat's Sweetie is. It was annoying and laughable that they truly thought Luffy would be captured. The only thing that could hold Luffy down was meat and you didn't see any in your current prison.

The foe pirates and you jumped as a sudden loud bang sounded through the hallways. Followed by a male voice screaming your name, footsteps running quickly.

“Luffy!” You screamed and one of the pirates immediately covered your mouth, but you didn’t care. You felt like you could breathe again.

The one who was supposedly the captain yelled, "Go!" And several pirates exited through the halls to take down the enraged rubber man.

What followed was groans of pain, steel bending inwards in the shape of a human, Luffy's angry screams and yelling of your name. The stomps of his running feet getting closer. Your heart was hammering, he's here, he's here, he's here. A smile breaking out across your face.

Luffy yelled your name again and you heard more commotion as he cannoned his way through enemy pirates. I’m safe. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your captor's mouth moving, his eyes furrowed in anger, and he must've been threatening your life but none of that mattered anymore. His threats were for nothing. Luffy was here.

Suddenly the foot steps stop and in the next minute the steel door comes flying off the hinges, smoke and dust shrouding the figure who was the cause. Your heart was fluttering.

As the dust cleared, you began to see the smoke was coming off of his body, his veins and skin pink. Gear Second. You wiggled your body, trying to get free of the ropes, trying to get to him. The pirate holding your mouth suddenly hauled you up and wrapped an arm around your waist instead, holding a gun against your forehead.

Luffy's eyes were hidden under the brim of his hat, his fists covered in blood. Sweat was dripping down his body, a muscle in his jaw was jumping. His chest was heaving in rage. His head moved upward to lock eyes with you and you jumped. This was not the Luffy you knew.

“Straw Hat! Don’t move an inch or your sweetie is dead.” He bellowed.

Luffy’s eyes darkened at that. His eyes moving from your face to the gun at your forehead and then he moved so quickly all you could see was a flash of red and smoke barreling towards you and the gun was gone. And the pirate was gone too.

You looked to the side, the enemy that was holding your body was dinted into the steel walls, blood dripping down the side of his face, his eyes rolled back. Your mouth dropped open at the sight. Always amazed by Luffy’s strength. You had always known your captain as the happy go lucky, kind, impatient, dumbass future king of the pirates. His big smiles and infectious laugh always making your day that much brighter. This demon only showed when he his loved ones were in danger, or someone stole his food.

You turned away from your previous captor and were staring into Luffy's soft brown eyes. Struck by how his eyes had shifted from anger to yearning. He’s right in front of you, and you realized the ropes that were around your body had fallen to the ground. He looks over your face, the pads of his thumbs stroking your cheeks, inspecting you. You nod at him.

And then Luffy kisses you, his hands moving from your face, to your shoulders, to your back, to your waist. Searching for injuries. The kiss deepens, his lips moving across yours possessively. This was not your Luffy. Your Luffy was never scared, as if you could disappear at any moment. His hands gripping your waist tightly, painfully. His chest pushed up to yours and you felt his racing heart. This was not your Luffy.

Your hands moved above his own at your waist, grasping them. Intertwining them. I'm okay, I'm here. You whispered through your kisses, softenening your lips. Letting all your love flow through your kiss, hoping he could feel it. The tension in his body slowly start to ease as he realized you were safe in his arms, unharmed. His hands wrapped around your waist and yours went behind his neck. Then the kisses turned into those that you loved - unpredictable, fast, passionate. He broke away, gasping for breath, rested his forehead against yours, his eyes looking down at the ropes at your feet.

“I’ll be right back,” Luffy said to you in a low husky voice and your knees almost gave out.

Luffy walked slowly over to the foe pirate that was struggling to get to his feet. He raised the gun to Luffy's chest and shot a few rounds, the bullets collided with Luffy's skin and burst back out shooting straight back into the pirate who again fell against the indent in the wall. Luffy stretch his arm behind him and sent a Jet Pistol flying right into the pirate's temple.

Then, Luffy turned back to you. A giant smile stretching across his face, an infectious laugh bursting through his lips. He called out to you and then pulled you on his back for a piggyback ride and was off, running back towards the Sunny. You couldn't help but laugh with him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck so you didn't fall, this is your Luffy.

[teamatsumu]

Imagine Geto making you squirt for the first time.

Geto knows exactly what it takes to have you crying on his fingers.

He starts off slow. Teasing touches over your skin until goosebumps rise, before becoming more firm, kneading into the muscle, groping your ass and your tits. Oh, your perfect tits. He will lay you down on the bed, spread and pliant for him, before popping one of your nipples into his mouth. So delicate at first, just the tiny brush of his quick tongue. You almost don’t feel him.

One of his hands wanders down, right between the heat of your legs, carefully sinking one long finger into you and keeping it there, not moving, not curling, until he has you squirming under him. His mouth never stops for a second, now sucking and nibbling on your pert nipples, switching from one breast to another every few seconds.

You whine at him to move, to finger you like he means it, the stimulation from your nipples zipping straight down to your pussy, making it clench and tighten around his still static finger.

Geto makes you beg. And only when your nipples are sore from his mouth and your body is wound tight like a rubber band, does he slide a second finger home, before he is setting a fast, brutal pace.

You scream at the change, satisfaction at finally getting stimulated rolling through you in waves, and Geto is humming into your nipple, biting down to cause just enough pain that he knows you will love, his fingers rubbing into that one delicious spot inside your cunt while his thick thumb rolls over your swollen, neglected clit.

He is relentless, so rough that it almost feels like you’re being used for his pleasure, despite not touching him at all. And when you feel yourself getting close, you can already tell this orgasm is different. Because it tightens your muscles so much more, and it knots up your core until you feel like you will burst. And for a very brief moment, you are hit with a slight trepidation, and you try to squirm away, but Geto’s grip is unforgiving, and his fingers are relentless, and your body can’t hold out any longer.

Then you do come, wailing as fresh tears leak from your eyes and fresh juice soaks your pelvis and Geto’s entire hand. The sounds become so much wetter, squelching as the fingering gets rougher, with Geto going harder and spreading his fingers while he is still inside you, trying to stretch out your tiny hole in preparation for his cock. You tremble and cry through it, so wound up you cannot even lift a hand to cover the pathetic noises leaving your mouth, face scrunched up as hot tears cover your cheeks.

And he doesn’t stop. His fingers slow just a bit, trying to fight against the tight muscle of your little hole, still rubbing into your warm walls, still pressing down on your clit until you are trying to push him away, begging for reprieve.

And then he is giving you a sadistic little smirk, one that you know all too well, and speaking his first words of the night.

“I just made that pretty little cunt squirt all over me. I’m not done with you yet, my pretty girl.”

[luffysinterlude]

GHOSTIN’

summary: in which Luffy’s been your sanctuary as you grieve the loss of your sworn-soulmate — his brother.

pairings: luffy x reader / ex!ace x reader | the request

warnings: post-marineford, one sided love, slight angst/comfort, reader grew up with ASL, no gendered terms

an: haiiii!!! i’ve been working on this on the side as i’ve been reading nana. i really didn’t know how to tackle this request + song with Luffy especially, but I really tried my best. please leave feedback, it’s always appreciated!! also, as always, there’s another a/n at the end ^.^

inspiration: ghostin’ | word count: 2.2K | tip jar!

“i’ll always find a way to protect you, promise .ᐟ

— GOL PORTGAS D. ACE”

PORTGAS D. ACE IS DEFINITELY, YOUR OTHER HALF. Some might call him your lover, but to you, it was more than that. You had known the hot-headed boy since you were two were children; some say your calm and quiet demeanor balanced him out, but was just as evil and devious, which you couldn’t help but agree with that. The two of you went around the village causing trouble for fun and sometimes you’d help him with his tasks in the mountains.

Ace has always been your ray of sunshine. With everything he’s gone through — which, you were a witness to — he’s still able to light a room up with a single conversation. Literally.

When Ace informed you that he finally got a devil fruit, you thought it might’ve been a God themself that handed the Mera-Mera no Mi to Ace, because still to this day, his presence remains the brightest and captivating —

even though he physically isn’t with you anymore.

It’s been almost two years since the day the Heavens took Ace back. Years that were full of utter silence in your world; the pain weighing heavy on your body and soul. You’ve remained under the watch of Shakky and Rayleigh, asking that you get to spend as much time with Luffy as possible; the last bit of Ace you have access to.

Following the War at Marineford, you had asked Rayleigh if it was okay for you to stick around. He agreed after recognizing who you were — a childhood friend to both Ace and Luffy — figuring you didn’t have anywhere safe to go anyway; you’ve become infamous due to Ace’s influence on you during your childhood, and with your reputation, you’re not sure of what consequences you’d face if you were even near pirates or marines.

You’ve been with Shakky the most during this time: her giving you haki training in exchange for you to help her out whenever she needs it. You can’t complain though. You enjoy the feeling of having a maternal figure in your life, especially right now. You’re unsure of how to control your emotions, and Shakky’s been helping you navigate through them, and use them to your benefit.

Luffy has too. Whether the rubber boy knows it or not, you appreciate his gimmicks whenever you get to visit him on training days. He always has a bright smile on his face when greeting you, your body grows with warmth every time he sees you; like right now, you feel like the heat has gotten ten times hotter, yet his embrace just feels so familiar and welcoming, you almost forget that you have to pull away.

“Hey! You said you’d visit me two days ago! I got finished with my training early and expected to see you, but Rayleigh said your plans changed! What happened?” His voice is loud yet soft, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel guilty. You avoid his gaze immediately, the small smile you’d painted on your face fading.

You don’t like talking about Ace to Luffy. It’s been like this since the two of you were children, but especially now. You know he’s trying his best to keep your mind astray from the grief, and he’s been doing so, so good at that. But every now and then, Ace visits you as you sleep, and the following day is so hard, you want to be left alone.

ᯓ★

Luffy’s not stupid — or at least, he knows how to navigate his feelings. It’s what helped observation haki come easy to him, and instantly he feels your demeanor switch; the sun reflected in your eyes, then suddenly disappeared. He knows when you’re having a tough time. In fact, he thinks he knows everything about you.

He’d probably never find it in him to voice it, but somewhere along the way, he thinks he’s found love within you. Even with the entire ocean separating the two of you for years, the feeling only blooms at the thought of you. He thinks this is how Ace must’ve felt.

Without hesitating, he grabs your hand and drags you into the jungle that’s served as his temporary home for the past year and a half. These days the jungle is quiet, so Luffy’s able to spend more time in it without having to worry. Plus, he’s a hundred times stronger than he was when he first reunited with you.

He giggles at your confused and shocked state, wanting to tease you about how you’re not used to his antics at this point. Instead he just basks in your flushed expression, admiring the beauty that graces you.

ᯓ★

After the most unwanted and unexpected marathon of your life, Luffy stops. You’re barely able to process your surroundings when you’re suddenly flying. Screams leave your throat immediately, only for you to be situated on a branch seconds after.

Luffy sits next to you, his left arm wraps around your waist securely and he nestles his head into your shoulder blade; it’s almost as if he’s clinging onto you like a koala, all while you’re nearly dying to catch your breath. He’s always been this close and clingy, especially on days you’re quiet, but over the years, you’ve grown accustomed to it this trait of his.

Your breathing goes back to normal after a couple of moments, and soon your eyes find the boy staring up at you, eyes wide and curious, sending a gentle shiver down your spine.

“Sooooooo…you been thinkin’ about Ace?” Luffy’s bluntness is something you should be used to by now, but sometimes you wonder how his crew’s able to deal with it.

You sigh as you lean into him, staring out in front of you: the clear sky was painted a pretty shade of pinks and blues, the sun was saying its final goodbyes, and the ocean — a symbol of your will — sang peacefully as the two of you settled in each other’s presence.

“Yeah,” you breathed softly. “Ace visited me again, the other day — It was kind of sudden, he hadn’t done that for a while now.”

“Well did he say anything?” You don’t want to answer, but the way he’s looking at you has your chest fill with warmth.

ᯓ★

Ace lays next to you in the sand, his gaze fixated on yours as his fingertips softly grazed the features of your face. It was silent as it always was, and you felt yourself relaxing into his touch. Although it was all in your head, it felt so real. As if the two of you were just taking a vacation, without a care in the world.

And for the first time in a long time, Ace’s voice reaches your ears.

“Ya know, Luffy’s always had a thing for you,” You’re taken back and your brows furrow in confusion. Ace has never actually talked to you in your dreams, so for this to be the first time makes you question your sanity. “He always asked me about you whenever we were kids. He never wanted to do things unless you were there to watch him. He cried whenever you leave. I always thought he was just overly dramatic, but even now, as I watch him, his eyes water.

He’s hoping to ask you to join his crew,” Ace pauses to chuckle, a sound that you had almost forgotten. You bite your tongue as you feel your eyes water, not wanting to move incase you’d wake up. “The boy asked me for advice. Mentioned the times you’ve denied him before, when we were kids, asking on how and what he could do to get you to join him.

He believes in himself more than ever now, and he told me he feels like he owes you something for not only taking care of him, but Sabo and I as well. I always thought it was a weird-one sided obsession, but then thought about how I feel the same way about you too. Like a treasure that must be protected — even though you’ve done well on your own already. I used to think you were a witch.” You roll your eyes at his nickname for you, slowly processing what he’s telling you.

“I’m not asking you to date him or anything — But I think you should consider joining the Strawhats. They’re promising, and I believe you’d make their crew so much stronger. Now that I’m gone, who’ll watch over my crazy little brother? If only Sabo was here, then maybe I’d have him do it instead of asking you — but you’ve always been the best of taking care of us, and Luffy’s attached to you. He’ll listen to your insight, because he thinks you’re the smartest person in the world. I agree, but only because I’m not on Earth anymore.” You scoff at his self-compliment, knowing it was just something to tease you about, but appreciating the fact that the boys always knew you were the smartest of the bunch. You roll on your side to face him, eyes widening when you notice he’s staring you straight in the eye.

He looks like the same hot-headed boy that left you those years ago. As if he was seventeen again, waving a see-you-later to you and Luffy as the ocean carried him and his tiny boat away. Nothing’s changed since then, even when you’d run into him at ports when you were venturing the sea as well.

“Again, you don’t have to feel any kind of those feelings towards him, but I think Luffy will help you ease the pain and eventually grow from it. If anything, he looks up to me. Find me in him if it helps. I’ll watch over the two of you and try my best to help you both out, but for now, please enjoy your youth and life for me — surrounded by love. You have so much to live for and so much willpower. You’ve always been the epitome of freedom to us, so please go and enjoy it.

I won’t visit you for a while now. I’ll let you go and handle business. But please, as always, be safe. Don’t go crashing out on everyone now. I love you, thank you for allowing me to grow with you.

I’m sorry that time and distance separated us, and I’ll make sure you’re always protected, just as I promised.”

You’re silent as he just smiles at you, words wanting to spill from your lips, but none of them feeling right. Your bottom lip wobbles as you stare at his face and features, blinking tears away so you can engrave his face into your brain.

“You know how to get to me; I’ll always be here for you. I’ll see ya later, hot stuff. Can’t wait to watch what trouble you make happen.”

ᯓ★

You sigh as you bring yourself back to reality, breathing in the air surrounding the two of you. It was fresh, the breeze was nice, and the sea remained humming her song quietly.

“Well, he might’ve let it slip that someone wants me to be apart of their crew,” you tease, feeling the boy suddenly jolt.

He chuckles nervously as he rubs the back of his head awkwardly, clearly not expecting to be outed by his own brother. “Huh?” He feigns innocence, “Well who?”

You roll your eyes and raise your brow, arms crossed as you stared at him, challenging his gaze to see if he breaks. When he doesn’t, you decide to mess with him.

“Shanks,” you tease; you’d met the infamous Red-Haired pirates around the same time Luffy did, and he was your first ever haki teacher. Although it was a small lie to tell, it wasn’t hard for Luffy to believe it.

His expression fell dramatically, his voice whiney as he pouted and looked towards the sky.

“ACE, YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THAT SHANKS ALREADY BEAT ME!” You giggled as the Luffy sent curses up to the Heavens, silently hoping none of the Gods cursed you for Luffy’s outburst. You grabbed his hands suddenly, and for a split second, shivers went down your spine. He turned and looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face that almost looked like regret.

“Hey, hey,” you coo to him. You’d always comfort Luffy after his brothers would tease him, and over time Luffy’s grown to love your touch and words. “‘M just teasin’. He told me that you were hoping I’d join your crew. Honestly?” His fingers intertwine with yours as he patiently waits for you to finish your thoughts; his hands are warm and soft, despite his constant training, the way they’ve always been. The way he’s always been. “I’ll do it, if it means I can help you reach your goals. I told you I’d see you off as pirate king when we were younger, didn’t I?”

Luffy gasps and wraps his arms around you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder. The sudden embrace takes you by surprise, and you feel his mouth moving but you’re unsure of what he’s saying. You welcome his embrace, thinking of all that’s happened since Marineford. Luffy’s been with you since, helping you grow stronger and stray your mind away from what you’ve lost. He’s been doing so well — he makes you laugh about the stupidest things, he’d always defend you from the former monsters of this jungle, he tells you stories from his adventures and you do the same. These past few months, it’s gotten easier to accept and let go of the grief, thanks to him.

“Promise I’ll make it worth it for ya! Thanks for trusting me! Took you such a long time to say yes,” he says as he pulls away from you, smile accompanying his lovely facial features. “We’ll have so much fun! You remember the crew, right? From that time in Alabasta?”

As you and Luffy sit and escape the world around you, you feel a new excitement grow in you. You’re just as ready as he is to reunite with everyone, even if you weren’t a Stawhat before this. For the first time in a long time, you feel free. You don’t feel this way because Ace let you go, but because he pushed you to finding your freedom. And all you can do now is live and hope to achieve all that’s waiting for you.

ᯓ★

an: i’m thinking about a part two because this felt more like it was centered around Ace and Reader’s relationship T^T. but honestly i wouldn’t mind. plus i think reader might subconsciously love Luffy the way he loves them. so maybe i will write a part two to satisfy myself, idk. it’s been a while since i’ve written and have been able to get any creativity out of my body, thanks to work 😻. anyway, please do leave your feed back!!! i’ll enjoy it. thank you so much for reading!!

[moonydustx]

giving them a hickey headcanon (Law,Zoro,Luffy and Mihawk)

Hi Hi! All good? I'll start with a small warning: I know it should have been hc but I think I got mixed up in the format (each story actually came out differently). And each one looked a little NSFW, but I swear there's nothing explicit or very detailed. I hope you enjoy!

Some came out with more dialogue, others with much less. Yeah, I really got lost in the format.

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Luffy

warnings: Luffy isn't so innocent in this one. Pre-established relationship. Amor is the equivalent of love in Portuguese-BR.

Not that Luffy was innocent, but he had never paid attention to the fact that hickeys existed and how carnal they could be. And regarding your relationship, things used to be lighter and calmer between the two of you.

The first time he saw it wasn't in you. He was walking around the Sunny's deck and saw Zoro sleeping, as usual. He approached slowly and saw the stain on his neck.

"Who did you fight with that hurt you like that?"

"Don't bother me Luffy." Zoro grumbled, pushing the captain away with his hand.

"Did Zoro get hurt?" Usopp leaned into Luffy's side, as did Chopper. "That's not a bruise."

"It's a bruise, but it's light." Chopper concluded.

"You idiots, have you never seen a hickey in your life?" Nami grumbled.

"I already knew! The great captain Usopp already won one..."

"A hickey?" Luffy asked himself more than the others.

The matter remained forgotten in his mind, until you appeared in front of him later that day. The sun was already setting when you found him sitting on top of the Sunny's bow. With little effort and using his help and elasticity, you soon found yourself sitting between your boyfriend's legs, both of you facing the sea in front of you.

"Amor?" his voice pulled you out of the comfortable silence between you.

"Yes Lu?"

"Can you give me a hickey?" he asked, forcing you to turn over your shoulder and face him. "I don't think you've ever given me a hickey."

“That’s not exactly how it works, but…” you let the words trail off in the air.

Your lips placed a small kiss on his cheek, then on his jaw and finally, a chaste kiss just below his ear. At the same point, you placed another wet kiss and finally gave a strong hickey. As soon as the pressure on your lips was released, you placed another quick kiss.

"Well, you're made of rubber, I don't think you'll get marked." You explained and snuggled back against his chest.

"But it felt good." you felt his hand fix your hair and create a space for him on the back of your neck.

Soon after, one of his hands slid down your thigh while his lips repeated almost the same path you had taken and unlike him, you were sure it would be at least painful to the touch, let alone marked.

"Did you like it?" he asked, still leaning against your shoulder.

"Yes." your slightly shaky voice said more than he could ask. It was supposed to be a simple hickey, but Luffy knew how to mess with you.

"Can I have another one?"

"Later, when everyone is asleep."

That meant that in some hidden corner of the ship, you took part of the night to explore each other. It also meant that the next morning, you had hickeys all over your body.

--

Law

warnings: pre-established relationship, jealous Law in this one.

He truly believes in that thesis that a strong hickey in the wrong place can be the cause of death, so he will always use small bites, the kind that only serve to make every part of your body shiver - and generate some other reactions too. Except when someone makes him jealous.

Don't misunderstand, Law is a reserved guy, not very interested in public displays of affection, but when you are alone, he is a clingy and extremely affectionate person - after time and time of you trying to win him over to transform the relationship into something more.

He had already shared the fighting field with Kid, victory with Kid, he would never share you, but the pirate seemed insistent on discussing things with you and your laughter echoed anything Kid said. Law already saw red at that moment.

After that, you ended the night in the arms of a version of Law that wasn't so common: jealous, unstoppable and delicious. You were just supposed to take some time and talk in his room. You ended up with all the things from the table on the floor, your panties lost - and probably torn, a trail of hickeys going down to your breasts.

"Trafalgar D. Law..." your voice came out like a scolding as you looked at yourself in the mirror already in his room. "What is that?"

"Just a few marks." he hugged you from behind, kissing one of the purple spots. "Sorry babe, I think I got carried away."

"Don't apologize, other than that, your jealous version brings good results."

"I hope that doesn't mean you're going to let that idiot bother you." he grumbled, placing another kiss on one of the hickeys. "Stay here, I'll get some ointment to ease this."

As soon as he returned, he carefully applied the medicine to each point you pointed out, but with a cynical smile on his lips. He knew the hickeys wouldn't go away fast enough until his next date that day with Kid.

Zoro

warnings: pre-established relationship, some broader mentions of NSFW content, but nothing explicit. Two uncontrollable drunks.

He liked to see the effect he had on you, whether it was the slurred speech when he pinned you against the wall, trying not to get lost between the way he looked at you and the proximity of the two of you, or you getting up with the wobbly legs of his bed and spending the next few hours grumbling about being sore - and you always whispered to him that that wasn't a complaint or when he saw you wearing scarves on hot days, or some accessory that disguised the mark on your skin.

Despite this, he didn't like it or used to leave marks on purpose. Even though he enjoyed seeing his love for you embedded in your skin, he knew that hickeys would only attract more questions about what that was, who did that and lots of jokes about the two of you.

However, on the nights lost between shots of sake, hidden in a dark corner and with the two of you numb from the alcohol in your blood, Zoro didn't worry about it. Or with almost nothing.

"Zo, control yourself, this is going to be marked." you lost it in a moan when you felt him capture your skin between his lips.

"Don't tell me you don't like it." he whispered, his lips running down your neck and leaving another mark. "You're mine, aren't you? Let me make that clear to everyone."

The next morning, in addition to the hangover that took over you, you could see the hickeys on your skin. However, this time, you could see the same hickeys in Zoro's.

Mihawk

warnings: brief mentions of NSFW here, this time F!Reader is the "jealous" one in the relationship. In my hc, Mihawk continues to speak Spanish/being Latino.

He could see your sullen face from meters away and couldn't contain a brief laugh. He knew you hated it when he had to be away to take care of his responsibilities as a shichibukai, but it was a necessary. Knowing it was just a small tantrum from you, he approached slowly, stopping at the edge of the bed and looking at you.

"Still mad that I have to go?"

"Of course! You barely stayed home for two weeks before you had to leave again. They really can't pick another guy?" you grumbled, seeing him shake his head. "I'm sorry I seem frustrated about this."

"Please don't apologize for this." he asked, seeing you drop your sullen expression and crawl over the bed, to where he was standing. "However, it seems my dear wife has some plan."

"Is that pretty girl going to be there?" you asked referring to Boa Hancock and he nodded. "I know there's nothing to be jealous of, but lately you've been spending more time with her than with me."

"And you're right not to be jealous." As soon as you knelt in front of him, your arms hung on his shoulder, sliding through the lined fabric of his white shirt. "No other woman interests me other than you, cariña."

"I know, like I said, I'm just letting my frustrations get louder." your lips began to distribute kisses along his jaw, going down to the back of his neck with white skin. Almost automatically, you sucked, seeing a small hickey appear. "I'm sorry." You pulled away, a cynical smile on your lips.

"If you plan to leave me marked with your love..."

Mihawk began to slowly unbutton his shirt, knowing how much it would excite you. Your hands soon helped him finish the job and your nails slid down his defined abdomen, stopping near the waistband of his pants.

"Make a mess, leave your hickeys on me and I will use them as a reminder of the incredible woman waiting for me at home." He bent down, finding the sensitive spot on your neck and placing a kiss. Soon, his mouth stopped immediately next to your ear, whispering in an almost tasteful way. "And when I come back, it will be my turn to mark you."

--

a/n: that's it, now my mind will be stuck on Mihawk walking around with his clothes open and hitting everyone's vision with scratches and hickeys.

[soul-controller]

Selfish Top Bottom

When it came to distinguishing whether a man was a top or a bottom, there was no way that anyone could look at Ryan Thompson and know that he was an absolute top. With the bulky and imposing physique of a powerlifter and an obscenely large cock that was instantly noticeable that no matter how loose or tight his pants were, the man could absolutely be the perfect individual to represent what a power top was.

Due to living in a relatively small urban town (at least in comparison to a huge city like Los Angeles or New York City), word seemed to travel fast around queer circles to the point where if you didn’t know who Ryan was, you at least knew of his reputation. He was a perpetual manwhore, constantly hooking up with anyone he wanted and discarding them immediately after they fulfilled his needs. Although most people understood that that was just the way that things worked in their community, the same could not be said about Mitchell. Although he had never actually met Ryan or been intimate with him, the young twink knew that it was someone he had no desire of ever interacting with. 

However, all of that changed once Mitchell found out that the hunk had hooked up with his best friend Shane and mistreated him once Ryan had came. As Shane recollected how the stud ridiculed the “pale” and “pathetic” man and told him to leave his apartment as soon as possible before threatening to beat his “weak pansy ass” up, Mitchell could only see red at the other man’s behavior. There was certainly no problem with hookup culture if that was how Ryan wanted to live his life, but Mitchell drew the line at blatant disrespect and homophobic rhetoric. So with that in mind, he decided to put a plan into action – one of complete revenge to teach a lesson to the asshole meathead. 

To Mitchell’s amusement, it didn’t take much for him to catch Ryan’s eye. All he had to do was show up to the same club where Ryan had met Shane and sneak peeks at the ginger-haired hunk’s beefy body and playfully avert his gaze once Ryan realized that someone was staring. After a good 30 minutes of this back and forth, the beefy stud and twink finally met before heading off to Ryan’s place to “have some fun”.

Once they were walking up the stairs to the apartment, Mitchell wasted no time giving a performance of a lifetime by pretending to be fully infatuated as he felt up the man’s thick muscles and remarked about how hot and sexy the stud was. As a result, the duo couldn’t even make it into the bedroom before they ducked into the first bathroom they saw to get more intimate. Upon undressing himself and helping Ryan take off his clothes as well, Mitchell’s right hand began to traverse down the man’s pectoral shelf and cobblestone abs as he quietly whispered under his breath. As the twink’s dainty fingers finally began to graze along Ryan’s impressive and girthy manhood, Mitchell then grit his teeth and smirked as he forcefully wrapped around the man’s cock and balls and tugged.

The immediate tension caused Ryan to gasp and scream in shock, but rather than intense pain, the tugging was soundtracked by a resounding POP that echoed through the spacious bathroom. As he looked down at himself, a guttural scream escaped his lips as he noticed two things – his crotch was completely flat reminiscent of a Ken doll and Mitchell’s frail hand was still holding onto his real cock and balls.

As Ryan desperately asked what was going on, he watched in pure horror as he watched the man whisper more words under his breath which led to a chain reaction onto his detached genitalia. Before his eyes, his cock and balls were losing its realistic organic composition and shifting to gain an artificial shimmer – his cock was turning into a rubber dildo (with a suction cup even added onto the end to fully seal the deal).

While the hunk was acting absolutely manic at the transformation that had befallen him, Mitchell was completely calm and even joyful as he savored the other’s utter helplessness. Revenge felt oh so sweet… and he still had one more thing planned to make it even sweeter! As he continued to recite the words underneath his breath, the young warlock couldn’t help but smirk as he watched his magic going to work immediately. In an instant, the man’s firm muscular butt had been replaced with an insanely large and flabby ass that would wobble with every step he took. 

Despite wanting to wring out the pathetic twink’s neck, Ryan realized that there was something preventing him from either speaking to the man or physically attacking him. So instead, he could only watch in disbelief as the twink cockily stared at the man before turning and exiting the apartment.

Now alone with his new body and desires, Ryan stood at the sink and looked back at the dildo that still hung from a nearby wall. Despite how eager his mind was in regards to getting fucked, the perpetual top had no practice bottoming and thus knew what he needed to do before he got on Grindr and searched for a man to fill his needy hole…

Eager to read more stories like this? Head over to my Patreon to discover tons of hot transformation fiction including monthly mini-stories like this one!

[yanderenightmare]

incel Shiggy roofying his big-titted cheerleader crush at a party!!! she’s sound asleep while he’s fucking her little cunny raaawwwww 😭😭😭pleeeeeeeeeez

BNHA ! THIRST

Shigaraki Tomura x f!darling

TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, NSFW, incel, roofying, sex while darling's unconscious, somnophilia, Shiggy is very naughty in this, darling has big breasts

CHEERS

He’s coolheaded but nervous as hell, locking the door behind him quietly – eyes shifty, heart pounding, hands sweaty, pants heavy.

He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the condom he’d been saving for you… but after turning around and seeing you lie there, oh-so-very still – soft body sound asleep on the bed - he thought it would be a waste and dropped the rubber on the floor instead. 

Swallowing thickly, his cock made a jump, perking up even more at the thought of fucking your unprepped little cunny raw – tip leaking pre just thinking about it – straining in an almost painful bulge against his clothes while his head burned with the vile thoughts of what he planned on doing to you.

He stepped out of his sneaks and nearly tripped shuffling off his cargos, slipping his fingers beneath the band to his boxers and sliding those down his thighs as well – his thickness springing free with an eager kick as he left it all in a heap on the floor before getting onto the bed.

His drugs had you knocked out good – so good, only a teensy soft croon escaped your parted lips as he clambered on top of you. 

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, staring down at your resting face – breaths short and heavy as he rubbed over his cockhead with his fingers, catching the sticky slick that had formed there before motioning the digits toward your mouth – stuffing them past your plump lips. He made sure to wipe the cum on your tongue – watching you moan with gleeful eyes as you unconsciously sucked the skin clean.

He shuddered at the sight, playing with the wet muscle with another fist wrapped tight around his shaft – breaths getting tighter – red eyes big while scanning your body, helplessly spread open under him. High gym socks squeezed into the chub of your midthighs while he hiked your short cheer skirt up around your tummy, leaving only a thin panty separating him from your smooth-shaven cunt.

He didn’t waste much time. Swallowing the drool pooling beneath his tongue while clammy hands reached out to grip the lace, clumsy in his haste when tugging it down your thighs and legs and off at your feet. He put the tiny article to his face and indulged in a shamelessly perverted sniff – feeling his abdomen roar in return.   

Eyes, steamy and dulled as more pearls pilled from his reddened tip when looking at your sweet little exposed slit. He wrapped his shaft with your panties and put his weeping cock-head right where he’d taken them off – in a soft kiss to those puffy pussylips – splitting them apart to smear his spillage over your clit and entrance – almost immediately beginning to push. 

“Come on- let me in.” He groaned, frustration already lacing his voice, turning it into something desperate – almost resembling a whine as he continued nudging against your taut opening, trying to press his plush bulging head inside with little kindness – except for a fat blob of spit he let drip off his tongue – landing in a splat right on your clit and slowly sliding down to where he tried to fit.

It wasn’t much, but it proved to be just enough – making you jerk with a tiny sound of discomfort as your hole finally gave and received the first inch. 

“There you go~” He choked out in relief, hands gripping the swell of your hips, eagerly glaring down at the lewd sight – where lubed with a mix of saliva and precum, he kept sinking inside the tight space one fat inch at a time. 

Your thighs strained at the intrusion, trying to wind shut to protect yourself even in your sleep – but it achieved little less than making Shiggy smile. 

He sighed in awe, offering a low and amused hum while effortlessly pushing them back in their place – his red eyes dazed, misty while looking at your little hole swallow him up, so tight and so tense at the stretch where his big cock bullied its way forth until he was all the way inside – balls-deep, nestled tight against your womb. 

“Touchdown~” He cheered in a drawl, mocking the way you squeal for football players after scoring, pumping your silly pompoms in the air with a high kick and bright smile – jumping up and down with pudgy tits bouncing in your tiny cheer outfit. 

He feared you would change out of the skimpy articles after the game. But lucky him, you hadn’t even showered. You were all ribboned pigtails and glitter makeup still, dewy and sweet-smelling from dried sweat and perfume. Dirty with greenery from the field and booze from the pep rally and soon to be made absolutely trashed and filthy with his spunk in your cunt.

He groaned, still remaining buried in all the way, liking how you snatched him tight, clinging to his length like a virgin – but soon pulled out. Rocking back from the deepest part of you, he watched you hang onto and writhe at every ridge and vein before his bulging head popped out with a wet shlick. 

You’d glossed him nicely with pussyjuice, made his cock warm and wet. 

He smiled, fingers pinching your hole open – watching it flutter from the absence of his meat – body sagging forward at the pretty sight as he got down low until his mouth was on your muff with dewy huffs – tongue sticking out and sliding through your slit with a breathy shudder.

Hands grabbed fistfuls of the chunk of your ass, pulling you snug around his face while he munched – sucking your bud into his mouth and in between his teeth – hearing you give the softest little moan in regard.

His heart drummed a rushed beat in his chest at your taste, so sweet and so naughty, driving him crazy – but he was going to take it nice and slow. He planned on having a good long time with you – wanted to leave traces of himself all along your body for you to find once waking up.

He got back up in position. No mind to bother wiping his chin except with his tongue out and gliding across his lips for any excess as he sunk back inside you with a content sigh. 

Even wetter after his lathering, you took him in with ease – accepting it only with a pretty moan.

His hands left the squeeze of your thighs and reached for the straps on your shoulders, pulling them down until your heavy breasts flopped out. They were fatty and firm little things – big handfuls of plush down, soft and honkable in his grip. 

He couldn’t count how many times he’d fisted his cock at the thought of sliding between them. “Mmh~ I’mma do that later- right now ’m gonna make these cheer titties bounce ‘n’ jump up and down for me~” He moaned in a frenzied giggle. “You’re gonna root for me as I drive a goal right into your teensy tiny hole~ give you a nice warm creampie to help you dream sweet~”

He placed one hand on each tit, pinching your sweet stiff nips between his thumb and index finger, and then he picked up the pace – cock driving in deep, ramming your cervix, lingering there in that plush warmth for a brief but full second, before swiftly pulling out – pounding you good and hard enough to elicit moans despite you still being out-cold.

Your cunt started to squelch, and he couldn't believe it – he think he might have just made you cum in your sleep – the way your hips softly lolled and gummy walls started milking him tight, fluttering around the size of him – lovingly enough to make him buckle over – his face panting against the pillow next to your head, drowning in it while your cunt cuddled him tight in your orgasm.

He made a pathetic sound, and soon he was spurting too – unable to hold back any longer – hips stuttering, dick deep while shooting rope after thick warm rope inside you – his mouth gaping against your cheek, grunting as he stormed your cunt to drive his cum in deeper. Emptying himself inside your heat for a good minute and fucking the leakage back into you for an even better minute, and then, just to keep his cock warm while his breath evened, he kept you propped for yet another one.

He sloshed his cock out after a while – still bone-hard and standing although numb post-nut, yet so sensitivehe made himself hiss when touching it. 

He lazed off of you, feet prickling against the cool floor as he rose up – looking at you and your poor sore cunt he’d just pounded into climax. You were still pulsing from it, hole spasming – drooling with his thick white load, spilling out and onto the sheets beneath.

“Bet that felt nice~” He grinned warmly, reaching a hand down to squish your lips apart as he bowed to lick the insides of your mouth with a hungry moan, tasting the sweet mix of your spit and the fruity drink he’d slipped the pills in earlier – before pulling back with a slurp and motioning his cock to your face. 

It was messy with slick and cream and cum, and just aching to get inside the sweet welcoming warmth of your mouth.

He bit his lip, sucking his teeth while playing with the blubber of your lips with the glossy tip of his cockhead – making you kiss it so sweetly. He nearly lost balance from the sight – fever pounding in his head, making sweat pill beneath his bangs, which now clung to his skin in wet meanders. His sounds wavered, feeling the pressure and pulse of arousal surging in his loins, heavy in his gut and burning with desperation in his length as he pushed into the softness of your mouth, sliding along the wet runway of your tongue and getting sucked down the choke of your tight little throat.

“Yes- yes- yess-” Poured from him in strings of drool he no longer had the mind to swallow. Cupping your cheek in his palm as he pumped in and out of your mouth – his jaw hanging open with unfiltered sounds, watching with awe how you suckled him clean and seemed to beg for a warm mouthful of his jizz.

He had to throw his head back so as not to lose his semblance, grabbing your tit as an additional anchor – feeling your soft tongue lick the spine and your pillowlips pucker on his girth – being such a sweet slut in your sleep – worshipping his cock like that.

He pulled and pinched your nipple, and you seemed to like it – moaning around his member with eyes closed in bliss like a little whore, gagging once he got a little too eager and fucked a little too deep. “Oh, it’s coming, little cheer-slut~ don’t worry your sleepy little head ~” He crooned, a hand tangled in your hair while fucking the pocket of your cheek in slow strokes – smiling at the cute sight of it bulging.

He found your undies again, raising them to his nose once more to breathe in the sweet, rich tones of your scent – sighing out in pleasure – but no, he couldn't cum yet. He still hadn't fucked your tits like he promised.

Leaving your mouth, he swung a leg over you and seated himself on your stomach. And pinned beneath him like that, it wouldn’t even have mattered if you’d suddenly woken up. But you didn’t stir – still lying there peacefully with a smile of slick on your face. He chuckled softly and bunched up your tits, pressing his spit-slicked rod between them – watching himself poke out the other end of your cleavage with a gleam in his eyes – mouth parting with a happy smile.

And they were so soft – plush like cotton and velvety smooth, taking his cock so good where he slid through them like butter. He groaned, gripping them tighter in his fists, giving them greedy squeezes as he plowed between them.

Swollen nipples he’d tugged one too many times were big and throbbing, making you whine and whimper small drowsy sounds as he kept on messaging them – pinched tight between his finger and thumb.

You made a greater sound once he pulled on them – mouth apart in a cry which immediately made the knot in his gut tug – balls clenching, wanting to capsize – the need for release strumming along his veins.

He leaned back on his calves, cock aimed up into the air, planning on showering you with the next batch. Fapping the long shaft in quick desperate jerks until he exploded for the second time – shooting it all over your tits and face.

Leaning forward again, breaths dramatic – he pumped and dumped the rest of the load out into your mouth. Carefully now, with lazy movement, he kept leisurely stroking his length like a pet – soothing and congratulating him on a good job as he watched his fine work. Splotches of creamy white splattered on your pretty skin, now melting down your curves and drying in place. 

It was a peaceful thing to watch… but his cock was hard and hungry still.

He looked at his watch, earning his smile. He had a lot more time left. 

The party downstairs was only barely getting started and would continue for several hours until morning. People always go crazy after winning a game – and for once, he was just as thrilled as everyone else.

Maybe next, he’d make a cumdump of your little cheer-butt too.

tip-jar: Kofi

[kykyonthemoon]

If it’s not too much, could I ask for the Love and Deepspace boys who accidentally hurt the (if you could gn) reader’s feelings? (They argued and they were wrong but lashed out either way sorta thing?) if not, completely understandable! Tysm!

The Hurts

Loving someone is giving that person the chance to hurt you and trusting that they will never do so.

🌻 Rafayel/Xavier/Zayne x Reader Tags: gn!reader, hurt/ comfort, angst A/N: I can't see our LIs to be the type to lash out at their loved ones, so I modify the request a bit. Thank you for requesting, anon-san. Hope you enjoy this story.

Masterlist

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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

Loving someone is giving that person the chance to hurt you and trusting that they will never do so.

You had given him so many chances, and what you got in return was being hurt over and over again.

Like sitting on a never-ending roller coaster, that's the feeling when you were with him.

He made you happy, he made you sad. He gave you surprises and he also shattered many of your dreams.

Then, you had enough.

You trudged back home with heavy steps after a difficult mission. Blood drenched your uniform. The blood of Wanderers, and the blood of your comrades. The mission was a complete failure. There were a lot of people injured, and it was completely your fault.

Because you trusted someone who shouldn't have been trusted.

Rafayel was standing on an empty street corner, waiting for you. He knew you would always take the same route home. You were too predictable, that was why he played with you like a toy.

You grit your teeth. You and Rafayel each held one end of the rubber band. But he was always the first to let go.

It hurt, the feeling of being betrayed hurt so much. But you still kept walking. You did not want him to see you miserable like that. You would not give him the opportunity to trample on your feelings and trust anymore.

Rafayel's dark eyes gazed at you. You saw scales sprouting out from his face and neck. That was the day when Lemurians were at their weakest.

Nevertheless, he made the decision to stand here and wait for you to come home. As soon as he had heard the news from his spies, he immediately ran to find you even though he was in his weakest state. You stopped moving when you were just close enough away from him, to look straight into his eyes with full of indignation.

“I will explain everything.” Rafayel spoke up. And he should, but you were sick of it by now.

“That's enough, Rafayel.” You cut him off before he could say anything else. “You've said enough.”

You trusted his intelligence, only to lead your comrades into a trap. He always took advantage of your absolute trust to hurt you and the people you cared about. Especially when there was something related to the Lemurians, he suddenly became a different person. Someone you did not know.

“Your secrets…” You said, “Just keep them to yourself… I think I've had enough of your lies.”

"I did not lie." Rafayel reached out towards you but you backed away. “Everything I told you about that operation was true. I simply…”

“You simply didn't tell me the whole truth.” You said bitterly.

Rafayel withdrew his hand. He appeared so frail that he may pass out at any time at the side of the road. This time, you would not care as much. You would just leave him be.

“You showed concern for me, then you left me alone. You helped me, then pushed me into a trap... What is real, Rafayel? What is the truth that ever comes out of your mouth?”

Rafayel was silent, staring at you with pain. What an excellent performance. You almost believed him, one more time.

“What are you going to do, then? You could kill me with just one blow right now.”

“Don't challenge me.” You threatened with a glare. You hurried past Rafayel, wanting nothing more than to get home and clean off all the blood on your body and calm yourself down. Yet, despite his extreme weakness, he still has the ability to draw you in. Your eyes met his sadness. In an instant, it seemed as though you had descended to the ocean's lowest point.

“You asked me what was true.” He said, his voice shaking. “You may not believe anything else I say… But this, this alone is the truth… I will never, ever let anyone hurt you… I will never lose you again…”

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You stood in front of Xavier's house waiting impatiently. As soon as the door opened, you immediately rushed inside without even saying hello.

“Is there anything wrong?” Xavier asked gently, but his innocent look made you even more angry.

“You crossed me out of that mission, didn’t you?” You replied in anger. There were several rolled-up reports in your palm, ready to be torn apart. You aimed it in his direction. “This was originally the mission assigned to me! Why did you request to do it on your own?”

Xavier saw the problem as soon as he glanced at those papers. He tried to explain:

“That mission is too dangerous. I can't let you do it by yourself.”

“Then would it be better if you went alone?”

You gave Xavier a glance. He was trying to calm you down, but every step he took closer you moved further away. You were upset because he decided to enter a risky area without you, maybe endangering his life, and you were unaware of it until everything had been taken care of. Even with you by his side, he carried the weight of everything by himself. You did not want that, because you felt compelled to share everything with him.

"I'm sorry." Xavier was honest with you. “I should have asked you first. I decided on my own because I thought it was the best thing for you.”

“What's best for me?” You retorted. “Do you even know what is good for me? To participate in my own mission, to decide to do things as I wish, or to fight by your side!”

Only silence covered the room. You collapsed into his couch, burrowing your face into your hands. You hated this feeling of helplessness. He took away your right to make decisions, your right to accompany him on this dangerous mission. The thought that he did not need you was so painful.

“You don't believe in me…” You spoke up after a long while. When you looked up, you saw that Xavier was still standing there, looking regretful and helpless because he was unable to touch you at the time. “I thought we were a team. If we're a team, we won't hide missions from each other, we won't sneak around alone behind the other person's back..."

“I'm really sorry. That mission is much more dangerous than area N109. I can't let you risk it.”

“That means if you had to choose again, you would still do the same and hide it from me, right?”

Xavier remained silent, but you already knew the answer.

You did not know what hurt more; Xavier hiding that mission from you, or he not trusting you could complete it?

You got to your feet, looked at Xavier, and proceeded to the door.

"I truly put in a lot of training to be in a team with you. But maybe that's not enough. If you think you can do it all by yourself then so be it, I don't see the need to stay here anymore.”

"Don't." Xavier seized your hand fast to hold you there. “Don't say such things…”

You drew away from him fiercely. Xavier let out a cry and embraced his left chest at that very time.

It appeared like he was hurt. You scowled and extended a hand to touch him.

“Are you injured?”

Xavier tried to smile, but his face gradually turned pale. He took that opportunity to pull you back and wrap an arm around your waist to keep you in place.

“It's only a little cut.”

“How can it be small when you look so painful?”

Xavier struggled to breathe. He replied:

"I'm sorry. Maybe it's true that I couldn't do that task alone. You were right. We are a team, I need you.”

You feel pleased, but still very angry with Xavier. It was because he chose to go alone that he got injured like that.

“From now on, I will definitely not hide anything from you anymore. So… don't leave me alone, okay?”

You were silent for a while, but wrapped your arms around Xavier to hug him. “I have to check your wound first.”

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

The more you care for someone else, the deeper the wound they cause you.

It had been a month since you could contact him. Just like that, he disappeared, again.

You were frightened. Just like when you were a child, suddenly one day, the friend who used to make snow seals for you disappeared without a trace. No one could hear about him. He had also covertly assigned your monthly health check to another physician without you knowing until you got to the hospital. The last time you had heard about him was when Dr. Greyson told you he were rushing off to the Arctic on urgent business.

How funny it was to learn that from someone other than him. No farewells, no assurances not to worry. And for an entire month, he was absent. Although you didn't have the authority to make him tell you his schedules, at least you wanted to know how long he was going to be gone and whether or not the mission was risky.

You grew more afraid and then angered as you considered him going missing once more. How could he do this to you, after everything you had been through together? Yet he dared to show his face to your house on a rainy night.

When he saw that you were covering yourself from the rain with your jacket, he moved forward to shield you. But you dashed over to the porch. You just looked at him from a distance, but near enough to see that he was alright. After that, you entered and slammed the door in his face.

Not a word was said to each other. He did not even call your name or send a text message. He stood in the pouring rain for a long, long time. You couldn't care less. That night you went to sleep fitfully, and when you woke up the next morning, your auntie neighbor told you that he had just departed a short while after your room's light went out.

You did not try to contact him again. This cold war was initiated by him, so let it be. It was now a week after his return, and you had to go to the hospital for a check-up before an important mission. When you saw the name of the physician assigned to you was Zayne, you requested for another.

Dr. Greyson found you in the waiting area. He asked about your refusal to let Zayne examine your health. Honestly, you could not find any reason to answer that wasn't too personal. So you just sat in silence.

“The first thing Zayne did when he got back was to read your files. He wanted to make sure you were fine while he was gone.”

Dr. Greyson said. You lowered your head and looked down at your clasped hands, experiencing a range of conflicting feelings.

“I don't know what happened between you two, and maybe it's none of my business, but Zayne is a friend, and I need to butt in just this once…”

You looked up at Dr. Greyson.

“Zayne went to the Arctic to seek assistance from his teacher. Things got worse as it became more and more difficult for him to control his Evol. I caught him injuring himself with his Evol. He made the decision to suffer alone until things got in control in order to protect others.”

You were shocked. Zayne had been suffering because of his Evol for the past month without you knowing, while you were blaming him for leaving you.

"Perhaps he refrained from telling you out of concern that you would worry and accompany him there."

The rest of the conversation drifted away. Then you stood up, tried to hold back your tears as you walked to Zayne's office. He sat behind the computer screen, looking up at you with mixed emotions in his eyes, although his face still remained calm.

You entered slowly, noted the scars on his hands. There were fresh cuts that were not yet healed. He must have been very hurt and lonely. What must you do to make him open up to you? What must you do so that you can share the burden with him?

“You… What's wrong?”

As soon as Zayne spoke, you hid your tears by walking towards him in a haste and pulled him into your embrace.

“Please don't go without a word... I won't be able to bear it if you disappear again..."

[eff4freddie]

Physical Therapy

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader No Outbreak AU - 4.4k words

For @punkshort's AU August challenge, in celebration of her one year Tumblr anniversary!

A.N: My prompt was 'lifeguard Joel' and I'm nursing a bit of a sore wrist at the moment, hence whatever this is was born. Thanks for the fun prompt! I would very much like Joel to save me from drowning now, please and thank you.

Warnings: None.

It had just started out as a kind of tickling feeling around behind your ear on your left side, and down along the back to the shoulder blade. When you’d first noticed it you’d thought you had a hair stuck under your shirt, and all day you kept reaching up under your bra strap to try and free it. Later, you would rub the skin red trying to lift the phantom follicle from your skin.

Later, it developed into a coldness, punctuated sometimes with ants marching up and down your shoulder blade. Your clavicle ached in cold weather, and you rolled your shoulders of a morning to try and shake the weird sensations from the joint. You were too busy to worry about it, you had too many deadlines, you could just type with your left arm resting on a pad of paper to elevate it. You knew you’d been working too hard on your paper for your next research symposium. As soon as it was over you’d deal with it.

When it started thrumming of a nighttime you’d just take ibuprofen to dull it, numb it off with a heat pack and an occasional glass of whiskey. But when it got too hard to type, when the daggers started shooting down your arm to the point that you could barely get your sleeve over it, when your shoulder was so frozen you couldn’t lift it over your head to brush your hair, you conceded defeat.

Your physiotherapist was lovely, and young, and fit, and you wished you could hate her. She ran marathons on weekends, on purpose and apparently without having first been threatened, and she gave you a bunch of exercises you promised you would do, made you pay $24.95 for a bit of stretchy rubber you could tie to your doorknob and stretch with, a couple of strength building exercises printed out and folded neatly, which you immediately threw on your coffee table and used as a coaster.

You went twice a week after work. She massaged you until you had tears in your eyes, biting back the pain by clamping down on your back teeth. You lied to her that you’d done your stretches, and she let you, because she was a nice person. Your recovery stalled, and you both pretended not to know why.

In the end, you just got fed up with yourself. You’d had to push back your presentation at the symposium, had found it too painful to sit at your desk for the long stretches it would take to be prepared. Your supervisor had insisted you take time off, that your PhD could be extended, and you had balked at the idea and then, eventually, conceded that too. Your stupid frozen shoulder was icing out everything in your life you cared about. You suggested to your physio you might like to swim.

--

It had been a while since you’d been in a bathing suit. Glad you’d at least thought to shave, you went into the change room dreading coming out again. You’d deliberately gone at 2 PM on a Tuesday afternoon, figuring the only people there would be either 100 years old or ladened with babies, and their bodies wouldn’t be so threatening to yours. You remembered a time when your body had felt strong, when your legs had carried you around European cities, up and down mountains. You wondered where that girl went.

You were a careful person, and you liked rules, so you shuffled as speedily as you could towards the pool, careful not to run. Your brother had slipped once, aged 9 and a half, and knocked out two of his teeth when he went down. Your mother had to wait three months to get them fixed, having to save up the fee, and your brother had whistled slightly on windy mornings. You’d teased him about it, and you felt bad about it now, holding your arm tight to your body so as not to jostle your shoulder.

The water was cool, and you took the stairs one at a time to get yourself into it. You gasped when it reached your belly, reaching down to splash yourself to try and acclimatise. It wasn’t an especially warm day, but the sun was out and it was warm enough on your skin. You sunk down, feeling the water lap at your shoulder. The relief was immediate, the cool spreading over your strangled nerves, and you let out a sigh. You didn’t think you were about to swim any laps, but it was enough to bob around in the shallow end and feel the water carry your weight. Your mind was quiet for the first time in a while. You watched two birds glide on the breeze, ducking down to skim over the surface. You hoped they didn’t shit in it as they passed.

Then, a giggle. A tittering, high-pitched thing that shattered your reverie and made you turn towards it, a scowl on your face as you looked up into the sun. A woman in a high-cut bikini straight out of the 80s was standing at the base of the lifeguard’s chair, looking up at the man sitting atop it. She was practically drooling, flipping her hair and nearly slipping out of her top. You couldn’t make him out, the glare casting him in darkness and too proud to shield your eyes with your hand to get a good look. She had all her weight on one foot so she could thrust her hip out and her chest up. You heard his voice rumble out of his chest, deep and heavy and surprisingly kind. You couldn’t make out the words. You reminded yourself you didn’t care.

--

Your physio was proud of you, and you wanted to hate her for that, too. You reported your attendance at the pool, lied about doing your exercises, and paid another $24.95 for another rubber band thing after you pretended you’d misplaced the first one. You knew exactly where it was, on the doorknob where you’d tied it the first night and then ignored it. But it was a good, if expensive, excuse.

The next time you went to the pool you chose a time slightly earlier in the day, hoping that the midday sun might tan you a little as you rehabilitated. You bobbed around again in the shallow end, experimentally rolling your shoulders and moving your arms in small semi-circles in front of you. The water carried the weight so you could just focus on moving the joint, and when the ache set in you could just float there, let the water carry you completely as you floated on the surface. With your face to the sky and the sun beating down the whole world turned bright and colourless. It sanded down the sharp edges, turned the detail to pulsing fuzz on your retinas.

80’s Bikini Lady didn’t resurface, but you got out when an entire class of 4th graders arrived for their swimming lessons. As you went for your towel you heard that rumbling voice again, booming out over the top of 20 excited kids, instructing them to quiet down so he could teach them to tread water. You wondered if that was what you were doing now, your research and your thesis gathering metaphoric dust on your laptop. Treading water.

--

It took you until your fifth visit to try an actual lap. Your shoulder had been feeling lighter, the joint freeing itself under the water just enough that you could bear the weight of the it as you moved. You had been experimenting with little half breaststrokes, just two or three with your head high over the water and only deep enough that you could plant your feet at the first twinge of pain. But you wanted to try something different, today. You wanted to make it down to the other end, even if you had to grip the lane rope and pull yourself there.

You felt eyes on you as you walked to the edge, and you turned quickly to see the lifeguard was at his station. It was early enough in the afternoon that you could see him properly, his aquiline nose, his curls unruly and chocolate brown. He nodded at you, an acknowledgement that he was keeping watch, and you nodded back to him. It was just you and a man in his 60s in the pool today.

You hissed a little as you descended the stairs, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. Today it was cloudy, and the water was cooler than you had been expecting, and you worried for a moment it would be bad for your shoulder somehow, that your muscles would be less malleable, less cooperative, in the cold. You swallowed, wondering if you really wanted to do this today. Then you remembered your thesis, and the way you had thrown yourself on dancefloors, in spin classes, ridden boys in your dorm room like your hips would never ache. You wanted that girl back. She was at the other end of the pool.

You pushed off, holding your arms straight out in front of you and using your feet against the wall of the pool to propel yourself forward, letting the momentum drift you the first few feet. With a brave breath in you spread your arms wide in a breaststroke, kicking with your legs to keep up some sort of speed. Three strokes, then four, then five and you were nearly a quarter of the way down the pool already. You just had to keep breathing, stick with it, pace yourself out. You cupped the water with your hands, pushing it away from your chest as you moved. There might have been a little twinge, but you banished any worry. You were doing it, if slowly, if gingerly.

You swam over the point where the bottom of the pool fell away, past the point where you could stand. The water felt cooler, the depth of it stealing some of the warmth, and you felt a little warning tingle up your elbow. Your neck pulled a little to the right to try and dodge the pain, and you faltered a little, lost some of your rhythm. In your surprise you’d opened your mouth and taken in a little bit of water, and you spluttered.

Suddenly your arms were out of sequence, and you were struggling to bring them back together in front of you while kicking with your legs. They felt uncooperative, like they were on different strings, and you were finding it hard to keep your neck bent up high enough to keep your face out of the water completely. You jerked to try and regain your momentum, and sent an electric shock through your shoulder, pain spreading out all the way down to your wrist. You gasped, the pain making you pull your arm into your body, trying to cradle it against your chest, and you started floundering, your nose and mouth dropping beneath the surface as you struggled to stay upright. You swatted at the surface of the water with your good arm, panic in your chest, as you tried to figure out if it was better to turn and head back to the shallows or carry on to the other end.

You heard a splash behind you, a huff of air as a body broke the surface and then an arm around your waist.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said, and you leant back into the warm body behind you, trying to suck in air.

‘My shoulder, my arm,’ you cried, keeping it tucked against you as the lifeguard pulled you to where you could stand. You gasped, choking a little on water but mostly just from shock, your face burning red with humiliation and the pain of your throbbing collarbone. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said, suddenly feeling like you wanted to cry, as you caught your breath, the man still holding you gently around the waist and leaning down to study your face.

‘You’re OK, you’re OK,’ he said, his voice like warm honey as it oozed over the panic in your brain. ‘Take a breath, I’ve got you.’

Oh fuck, you were definitely going to cry if he kept being so nice to you. You felt heat in the back of your eyes, bit down on your bottom lip so he couldn’t see it wobbling.

‘I just wanted to swim a lap,’ you said, and you could hear the desperation in it, feeling as small as a child.

‘You injured?’ he asked, and you nodded. He tugged you further towards the shallow end, led you by the good arm over to the steps.

‘My physio said exercise would help it,’ you explained, throwing her soundly under the bus. ‘I just…I thought I was ready.’ You felt the frustration bubbling over. You had a terrible habit of getting teary when you were mad. ‘It’s just been so shit, and I wanted to…I just don’t even know this body anymore, you know?’ you complained, wincing when you realised you’d just trauma dumped on him.

‘Can’t rush these things,’ he said, unfazed. ‘Gotta take it at your own pace.’ Standing up in this part of the pool the water only came to his waist, and he gestured to his belly where a jagged scar punctured his left side.

‘Jesus,’ you said, at the sight of it and also realising for the first time he was shirtless, water running in rivulets down his golden skin. He was so broad it was no wonder he’d managed to get to you in the centre of the pool in all of three strokes. You felt yourself start to tremble, and you weren’t sure it was from shock.

You’d known, of course, that he was handsome. You had eyes, after all. But up close, standing over you, hair slicked back as his brown eyes roamed your face for any sign of distress…up close, he was devastating.

‘Joel,’ he said, holding out his hand, and you took it, awkward and shy. He told you he liked your name when you mumbled it to him, and you realised he was very good at his job. You wondered where you could find an 80s bikini.

‘Thank you, Joel,’ you said, when your heart had finally settled back into its normal rhythm. ‘I’m sorry you had to…’

‘Trust me, pulling beautiful women out of the deep end is not the hard part of my job,’ he said, and then you watched as his eyes widened, like he was only just realising what he’d said, and you felt heat crawl up your cheeks.

You wanted to ask him what the hard part was. You restrained yourself, because you’d been humiliated enough for one day.

--

You skipped your next session at the pool, instead using the rubber stretchy thing to try and elongate the joint. It didn’t feel as good, and you nearly snapped it into your face more than once, and you definitely didn’t think about Joel’s golden skin glistening in the sunlight the entire time you did it. You didn’t think about his arm banding around you as he pulled you to safety, not even a little bit. The rubber thing was fine. It was going to solve all your problems.

--

You hated the fucking rubber stretchy thing. For one, it smelled like condoms but in a weirdly stale kind of way, and for two you were fairly sure it was going to rip your door off its hinges in your crappy little apartment, and you really didn’t want to have to call your landlord when that happened. It might mean you’d have to tidy up.

Also, it was late Spring and pretty soon school would be out, and the pool would be heaving, and so you had to get your shoulder back to normal as soon as possible before the place got flooded with kids. The bikini you fished out from behind a bunch of old clothes in the back of your closet was so that you could move your shoulder more freely. You were being pragmatic. You were planning ahead.

It was hotter again, the warmth of summer encroaching, and you were genuinely relieved to see the sparkling, clear water when you arrived on the pool deck. You walked, head held high and chest out just a little, past the lifeguard chair, studiously not looking but also really trying to look. You spent an extra few seconds fishing around in your back for your sunscreen, trying to steady your pulse. When you swivelled around, preparing to smear it over yourself, you glanced over at the chair.

Unless Joel had aged 20 years in the week since you’d been, and gained forty pounds and lost all of his hair, he was not on shift today. You felt yourself deflate, your shoulders slumping, your left collarbone sending out a thrum of pain in warning.

It was probably for the best, of course. You were here to do rehab. This was serious medical stuff.

You didn’t want to hazard another lap, not with Beergut McBaldALot on patrol, so you floated a bit in the shallow end and practiced making circles with your arms. You were stiff, having taken a week off to whip yourself up into a pointless frenzy over the lifeguard. The water eased some of the tension in the muscle, and you once again felt your mind start to still.

You wondered if, on his down time, Joel preferred board shorts or speedos. You couldn’t imagine him in a full banana hammock – you could, but you didn’t want to – but you wondered if he was a Daniel-Crag-In-His-First-Bond-Movie-When-He-Emerges-From-The-Ocean-Booty-Shorts kind of guy. That didn’t feel right either, though. His work uniform was boardies, and you decided that Joel was the type of guy who just wore them on his own time anyway, because they fit and they were on hand. As for what was going on underneath them. Well, that was something else entirely.

As you bobbed in the water you imagined his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and letting you rest your head on his broad, tanned shoulder. You wondered if you’d be able to feel his heartbeat on your cheek, if that close you could hear his tight little exhales as he glided you through the water, held you up so that you could finally, finally let go. You sighed a little to yourself, drifting in the middle of the pool and hoping no one had any plans to swim any laps. You let your hair trail out behind you as you drifted, imagined the slight pull of the water was his fingers threading through.

--

You weren’t hungry but you had nothing at home, so you stopped off at the grocery store on the way home, your shoulder feeling better for having had a little bit of movement. Sleepy from the warmth of the sun and your weightlessness, you barely noticed the man standing at the end of the cereal aisle until you were tripping over him, his arm shooting out to catch you before you could really, properly fall.

‘Ooof,’ he exclaimed, and you knew that voice, felt the furious rush of blood to your cheeks as you righted yourself and were met with the same warm, brown eyes.

‘We really must stop meeting like this,’ he said, smiling down at you, and he was just as beautiful on dry land as he was submerged. You felt your hands start to tremble and you worried you’d drop your basket.

‘Joel,’ you said, trying to hide the comingling shame and excitement on your face. ‘You look different when you’re wet.’

Murder you. End it now. It would simply be kinder.

Joel, to his credit, just laughed a little.

‘Hair’s a lot fluffier,’ he said, reaching up to tug at it and making you want to chew on your own fist.

‘There’s that,’ you said, your voice oddly strangled.

‘You breakfast shoppin’ at 4 in the afternoon?’ he asked, gesturing to the cereal box in your hands.

‘Dinner, actually,’ you said, strangely proud at your sheer level of disfunction. ‘Ever since my shoulder, cooking hasn’t really been…’

You trailed off. Your mom had sent over a couple of frozen lasagnes, and you’d worked your way through those in a week. For a while you got dinners delivered but it got expensive, and then worst, it got boring. Before all of this started there were some nights you’d been so engrossed in your thesis you’d forgotten to get dinner at all. You missed those nights, too. To be so distracted.

‘How’s the arm?’ he asked, and you realised you were cradling it again, holding it fast against your side.

‘It’s slow, and I’m trying to be patient,’ you said, honestly, and his brows saddled. He hummed in thought, pouting his lips out a little. You fought every atom in your body not to lean forward and pull them between your teeth.

‘Your physio given you exercises?’ he asked, and you nodded, avoiding his gaze. ‘You doin’ em?’ he asked, and you were suddenly really interested in the nutritional content of your Cheerios. He snickered out a laugh. ‘No one ever does ‘em.’

‘You speaking from experience?’ you asked, and he smiled.

‘I used to…well, not a physio but I did a little personal training, and uh…basically unless I was there barkin’ at ‘em no-one did what they were told.’

Bark at me, you thought. I’ll do anything you say.

You coughed, trying to collect yourself. Fuck, he was beautiful, but you realised what you liked most was just the warmth in his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. You trusted him, you realised. You didn’t know him, and you trusted him.

‘I’m pretty sure my physio knows I’m lying to her,’ you confessed, and he smiled.

‘She definitely does,’ he agreed.

‘I’m otherwise a very honest person,’ you added.

‘I have no doubt,’ he said, with a little twinkle in his eye that made you want to gouge the things out so you didn’t have to deal with them torturing you anymore.

Instead, you looked into his basket and saw kale, a bunch of carrots and a carton of eggs. You grimaced.

‘Please tell me you’re not on a cleanse or some shit,’ you said, and he smiled.

‘Nah, you got me just before I headed over to the candy aisle.’

‘You like candy?’ you asked, and he grinned.

‘Got a sweet tooth,’ he confessed.

‘Name your poison.’

‘Reece’s. The umm…the cups.’

‘The cups. A peanut butter man?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ he said, that southern drawl appearing again. You felt it hit you like a bullseye in your core. You wondered what else you could get him to agree to.

‘A man of taste,’ you said. You were flirting over grocery items and you didn’t fucking care. You would banter about the phone book if he kept grinning with his whorish little dimples out.  ‘Thank you for helping me out the other day,’ you said, and he shrugged.

‘S’my job,’ he said, and you shook your head at him, swishing your hands in front of you as if you could push his humbleness aside.

‘Yeah, but you chose that job, and I’m glad that you did,’ you said, simply. ‘It’s a generous thing, putting yourself on the line for someone else.’

‘Always been a kind of protector,’ he said, almost to himself.

‘I can see that,’ you replied, honestly, and he turned his gaze to you, considering you for a moment. ‘Although I guess a lot of the time it’s just watching people splash around.’

‘Ain’t hard to watch some people,’ he said, gazing down at you, his jaw muscle twinging a little.  You felt your stomach do a silly little flip.

‘No?’ you asked, your throat dry.

‘Mmm-mmm,’ he said, shaking his head but not breaking eye contact. You wanted to grab his broad, golden shoulders and hitch your thighs over them. You wanted to reach up and take his curls in your fingers, pull him onto his knees and his mouth to your nipple, let him nibble where they pebbled. You wanted to drown the gorgeous fucker, just for being so pretty he was setting your brain on fire.

For a second the two of you stared at each other, trying to pretend the sparks weren’t flying.

‘That can’t be dinner,’ he said, after a while, and you realised he was talking again about your cereal.

‘I could get some grown up muesli if that would make you happy,’ you offered.

‘Wouldn’t want you to get malnourished, come by the pool and drown from lack of…vitamins,’ he finished.

‘Lack of vitamins?’ you teased, and he blushed.

‘Can’t have you wastin’ away on me.’

‘So, you’re saying I have to eat the muesli for your benefit?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘No breakfast for dinner,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can fix you somethin’.’

Your heart stopped, right there in the grocery store, in your flip flops with your hair still wet from the pool.

‘…’ you said, and he finally broke your gaze, finally allowed you to breathe for a second. He looked thoughtful, maybe even a little sorry.

‘Not professional of me to ask out the patrons,’ he said, after a while.

‘Do you work at the grocery store?’,’ you asked, bolder than you were feeling. He moved closer towards you, just a half-step, so that you could feel his breath ghosting over your face.

‘If I gave you some exercises, would you do ‘em?’ he asked, his voice so low it came straight from the Devil himself. You felt the jolt of want spear between your legs.

‘My physio might get jealous,’ you said, and he grinned.

‘As your lifeguard I feel like it’s my duty to overrule, baby,’ he said. He lifted a hand to your bad shoulder, holding it gently, supporting the joint. You sighed a little, the extra support releasing some of the pressure from the tendon.

‘If you think it’s that serious,’ you whispered, as you leant in towards him, his mouth hovering just out of reach of yours. ‘Life and death.’

‘I’m afraid I might,’ he replied.

His lips tasted like coffee and sunshine. You lifted your arms to rest them on his shoulders. There was not a single twinge.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Lαst Kıss ➤ Stan Pines

A/n: been dying to use this song, so here is a quick little fic i wrote on my way to work

Oh, where oh where can my baby be?

The Lord took her away from me

She's gone to heaven, so I got to be good

So I can see my baby when I leave this world

It was prom night, and Stan knew he had to get you home but of but just because he had to drop you off didn't mean he couldn't spend a bit more time with you first, which meant that he needed to drop Ford off at home.

Despite his brother initial protest, he eventually slipped out of the car warning Stan to 'Bring dad's car back in one piece.'

Rolling his eyes, Stan drove off smiling to himself as you rested your head on his chest. "Did ya have fun tonight dollface?"

Biting back a snort you shook her head closing your eyes. "It was nice until you dumped punch on yourself."

We were out on a date in my daddy's car

We hadn't driven very far

There in the road, straight ahead

A car was stalled, the engine was dead

Letting out a hum, Stan let his fingers glide across your neck. He knew you were smiling, he could tell by the tone in your voice.

With how popular you are, yet you still fell for a guy like him and he couldn't have been happier.

Doing his best to take his time, Stan's eyes flicked to a car stalled in the middle of the road. His hand's gripping the wheel tight, he could tell by just how they were trying to start it that the engine was dead.

I couldn't stop, so I swerved to the right

I'll never forget, the sound that night

The screamin' tires, the bustin' glass

The painful scream, that I heard last

Stan knew it was pointless in trying to stop, he knew it would have been a head on collision if he did, so he did the only thing though he could. Hand's gripping the steering wheel, he jerked the car to the right.

The sound would forever be engrained in his memory, the screeching off the tires, smell of burning rubber, the sound of the glass bursting and your scream.

That painful scream he heard last before everything went black.

When I woke up, the rain was pourin' down

There were people standing all around

Something warm flowin' through my eyes

But somehow I found my baby that night

I lifted her head, she looked at me and said

It hurt....everything hurt when he finally opened his eyes. He could barely register the people standing all around the wrecked car. He blinked feeling something warmth trickle down past his eyes.

A painful feeling in his chest as he finally looked at you. Stan could feel tears spring from his eyes as he did his best to hold you. His hand on your cheek as your eyes fluttered open for a moment as you gave him a smile.

"Hold me darling, just a little while"

Lips trembling, Stan lent in as he rested his head against your own, his lips brushing yours softly as he held you as best as he could.

I held her close, I kissed her our last kiss

I found the love, that I knew I had missed

And now she's gone, even though I hold her tight

I lost my love, my life that night

It didn't matter that he could hear the ambulance in the distance. It didn't matter because he could feel your body grow cold, lip against him.

He didn't know how much he held you, how much he begged for you to wake up.

You were gone and you weren't coming back, your funeral really solidified that. Stan stopped talking to anyone after his death, he couldn't look your parents in the eyes know matter how kind they were being to him.

So he did what made sense to him at the time, the only thing that made sense. He joined the United States Marine Corps and soon he was being shipped off to fight in the Vietnam War.

He did his best, he was a good soldier but all it took was one bullet but as he laid dying a smile graced his lips because he was going to see you again.

It was the second funeral Ford had to attend, he just never thought it would have been for his brother. He did his best to not look at the casket. Barley listened as his father loudly exclaimed that is son died a hero, that he'd proudly display the purple heart.

Ford knew he would have to steal that before his father could pawn it.

He wandered off the moment they handled his mother a folded flag and before he knew it he was back at the swing set. Sitting down, his grip tightened around the chain.

"I miss you Stan."

"Ha...you'll be alright sixer."

Tensing, Ford's head snapped to the voice. He felt like he was going insane because standing in front of him was his very dead brother. "Stan."

"I'm happy...don't think to much about it alright"

Then another voice chimed in, one we hadn't heard in years. And then he saw you, still clad in that prom dress. "Stan! Come on we're gonna be late."

"Sorry, gotta go Sixer...can't be late...take care of ma for me and the others."

Ford watched Stan link arms with you and with a blink of an eye you were gone. He didn't know if he was going insane or if he really saw the spirit's of you and his brother but as he sat down on the swing he couldn't help but smile.

Everything was going to be alright.

[glassartpeasants]

One Piece Asylum AU idea

things are subject to change but here is a little short

~~~~

Characters include: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kidd, and Killer

GN!Reader for the moment

Warnings: drug use, mentioned death, murder/manslaughter, hallucinations, mental illness's, abuse, medical malpractice, slight gore, depression, made at work, kinda spoilers for Law's and Sanji's backgrounds, i tried my best to incorporate some things from each backstory into this so-,I AM NOT A MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONAL SO I DO NOT KNOW IF THESE COULD BE ACCURATE

~~~~

“Patient's name is Monkey D. Luffy. He was brought here by his grandfather after he failed to thrive following the death of his older brother.” Handing you the clipboard, the head psychiatrist looks at you before continuing. “He’s convinced himself he’s a pirate and trying to become ‘King of the Pirates’ with his ‘nakama.’ We believe it’s a coping mechanism and trauma response to witnessing his brother's murder.”

Looking through the pages, you read the test and charts. Upon seeing a particular line, you raise a brow. “Believes he’s made of rubber?”

“Ah, yes. It’s part of the world he’s built in his head. He thinks that things will bounce off him and that he can’t get hurt if he falls from heights. It’s caused multiple bruises and broken bones. One includes the broken femur he just recovered from. He’s a high fall risk due to these delusions.”

“That’s so sad. Creating a whole world just to escape the grief. I can’t imagine the pain of watching a loved one die in such a horrific manner.”

“Surprisingly, this pirate world is common in this hospital. Don’t know if it’s Luffy’s influence or if it’s a common escape method that hasn’t been fully researched yet. But it is a very regular delusion in here.”

“There’s more…pirates?”

“Yes. Three crews, to be exact. At least for now. Luffy’s charmed his way into a few other patients' minds and convinced them to ‘join his crew.’”

“Really? Who are they?”

“There's a lot. Are you sure you want to hear them? It can get pretty disturbing and slightly gut-wrenching. New World Asylum isn’t known for the mild cases.”

A sense of unease fills the pit of your stomach, but the curiosity is too much to endure. “I’m sure.” Nodding, the head psychiatrist leads you to a big hallway. The doors are thick metal with name plates on each surface. As you approached the dark, eerie hallway, it felt like a horror movie.

The head psychiatrist hands you a pen and a small notepad. “Take notes, rookie. If you want to survive, I suggest writing down as many notes as possible.”

“After Luffy, we have Rorona Zoro. Brought here by police after a welfare check discovered he was living with the decaying body of his lover after he accidentally killed them.”

“What? Why is he here instead of prison?” You question, looking at the psychiatrist with furrowed brows.

“It was an accident. He used to collect swords and practice swordsmanship, which had him collecting a total of 3 swords. One of them accidentally killed his lover when they sneaked up behind him when he was drunk, spooking him. He killed them instantly, thankfully, slicing them in half. In his despair, he kept the body with him for two weeks. His boss was the one to call the cops to check up on them since he hadn’t left the apartment or contacted anyone in the said two weeks.”

“That's so sad, but…that still doesn’t explain why he isn’t in prison?”

“After the death, he continued to speak to them like they were alive, and when the cops tried to separate him from the body, he flipped his shit. It turned into a standoff that lasted about four hours before they finally managed to take him down. Often gets aggressive and has violent outbursts when he has moments of ‘clarity’ and ‘can’t find them.’”

“Oh…”

“He’s part of Luffy’s ‘Straw Hat Pirates.’ From our observed behaviors, he seems to be the second in command. He now claims to be striving to be the best swordsman for his deceased lover.” Writing down the minor notes that you could, you continue to follow.

“Next up, Vinsmoke Sanji. After suffering years of abuse that he refuses to speak about, he attacked them ruthlessly. The only one surviving of the massacre was his older sister, who he deems ‘free of retribution.’ They counted him unfit to stand trial and sent him here. According to Luffy, he’s the cook for his crew. As far as we know, he’s never stepped foot in the facilities kitchen.”

Remaining speechless, you follow and try to calm down how your mind seems to run at a million miles per minute. How many people did this place have that believed they were pirates? Was this all Luffy’s doing? Influencing people into believing his world?

“Trafalgar Water D. Law. A raging wildfire took out his entire town overnight when he slept as a child. He has it in his mind that the government did it to hide the fact they were experimenting on them. A man adopted him only to witness his murder after his adoptive father got into an argument with a family member.” Your heart burned as you listen to the recounting of his story. Losing your whole world overnight twice sounded like hell.

“The next thirteen years seemed to go by quickly and relatively calmly. He’d gotten his medical degree to be a surgeon. He was known far and wide as a great doctor. It wasn’t until people began to find out that he'd been secretly experimenting on people. Trying to find a cure for an unknown disease that he claims killed his family.”

“The one that he blamed on the government?” You raised your brow, trying to comprehend what could possibly be going on in the man’s mind.

“Yes. It also came to light that his partner, who was constantly sick, was being poisoned by him. He always fed them a small amount of some drug, so they were too weak to do anything other than depend on him. Just so they couldn’t leave him. And just like almost everyone else, they concluded that he's not in the right mind to stand trial and sent him here.”

Walking past Law’s door, a sense of despair hits you, making goosebumps rise on your skin. You could hear him talking to himself, but what he’s saying was unintelligible. “He talks to his deceased sister a lot. Blames himself for not waking up his family in time to save them from the fire or warn them about the ‘sickness’ they had. When talking to him, don't be spooked if he starts asking you about your upcoming ‘surgery.’ He’s restrained in a jacket like Zoro."

"He’s another victim of Luffy’s influence, as he also now believes he’s part of a pirate group. But this one, he’s the captain of. He calls them the Heart Pirates. Another thing he discusses frequently is Corazon. We have yet to figure out who or what that is.”

“I’ll…keep that in mind.” The pen scribbled relentlessly on the paper, seeming never to stop as words repeatedly filled the small, lined paper.

“Good. Next up is Eustass Kidd.” Moving forward, next to the head psychiatrist, you are shown a door made of even thicker metal than the others along the hallway. There were even twice the number of locks on the door compared to the ones you've seen.

“Why are there so many locks?”

“He’s the most aggressive and hostile. It’s gotten to the point of him being unable to leave his cell and being chained to the back wall-”

“Let me out of here, you stupid-” A scream of pain came from behind the heavy metal door, causing you to rush up and slide open the slot in the door to check up on the man behind it.

“Sir?! Are you okay?!” As you opened the small opening, you were met with orange orbs staring right at you. Firey red hair could be seen from what little light was in the room. For a moment, the air seemed cold, quiet, and uncomfortable.

CLANK

Not a second passed before the man in chains jumped to his feet and rushed at you; the chains holding him back and the door separating you two did little to quell the scream that left your throat as you fell back on your butt. 

“He never learns.” The head psychiatrist sighs before you see her push a button on a small remote in her hand, leading to another scream of agony in the room.

“W-What are you?” Wide-eyed, you look at her.

“Shock therapy. It’s part of his treatments.”

“But hasn’t that been proven to be ineffective?” A stone stare was all you got, and it made you want to shrink and crawl into a hole to hide. Why would she use a technique that has proven ineffective? As punishment? There had to be some sort of explanation. There is no way they would use such primitive methods in this modern day. Unnerved, you slowly stand up, your eyes never leaving her hand.

“Moving on.” Quickly rushing forward, she moves to the final door. Not sparing you or the chained man a second glance.

Looking at the tiny slit in the door, you exhale a silent, “I’m sorry…” Swallowing down your saliva, you move to her side once more. What once was a calm introduction now felt wrong. The coldness of her actions shows a dark side that makes you want to run far, far away. What could he have done to get here and be treated like some sort of animal?

“What did he do that caused such treatment?”

“He was in a rock band, but there was an accident at a bar where he must have taken some substances that caused a manic episode. Whether it was knowingly or unknowingly is not charted. However, the episode caused some harsh hallucinations, which resulted in him running into oncoming traffic and getting hit by a car. The aftermath was multiple surgeries and the amputation of his left arm. Once he was awake and saw the damage, he freaked.”

“Freaked? Did they not explain to him what happened?”

“They tried, but from forced brain scans and multiple behavior therapists later, it was revealed that the accident had knocked some screws loose. Putting him in an eternal warped state of mind. A constant state of psychosis in a better term. No amount of medication has helped him. He’s a lost cause. No doubt he’ll be here for the rest of his life.” Frowning, you follow her to the next and last room in the hallway.

“Last but not least, Killer.”

“Killer?” You look at her in confusion. What kind of name is that? Is she pranking you?

“Yes. He was and still is Eustass Kidd’s best friend and the only person who can calm him down when he’s on a violent rampage after somehow escaping his room.”

“How did he get here then? Was he also in the accident?”

“No. He came a month after Eustass was sent to us. After Eustass’s spiral, he spiraled into his own depression after losing his best friend, and he turned to some drugs to soothe the pain. And just like his friend, he caused irreversible damage to himself after going on a drug stupor after his lover broke it off with him cause he was ‘too depressing to be around.’”

“What did he do?...”

Sparing you only a second glance, the head psychiatrist looked to be holding back a chuckle. “He used a sewing needle to stitch his mouth into a smile before going back to his ex’s house and trying to beg for them to take him back, saying he ‘fixed himself. ‘The cops took one look at him and sent him here.” An icky feeling rose in your gut at her reaction. How could she find something so horrific to be funny?

“That's horrible…it’s so disturbing how fragile the human mind is.”

“It is. Oh, something I forgot to mention is that Luffy’s influence hit them, too. Eustass took his words as a challenge and made his own pirate group, including Killer, called the ‘Kidd Pirates.’”

“How original?”

Stopping suddenly, the lady turns to you. “Now that you know them. It’s time for you to get ready.”

“Ready? Ready for what?”

“Ready to meet your new patients, Dr. (Y/N). I’m sure you’ll love it here at New World Asylum.”

[pholla-jm]

GOJO SATORU x female nurse reader.. Where he needs to have blood drawn or something like that (being somewhat sick) and he faints!! This guy must have his veins so visible on his pale skin ughhhh

ugghh I just love men with visible veins, especially when they flex their arms!!! anyway, I hope you like it!

Nurse Me Back To Health

IMAGINE: NURSE ME BACK TO HEALTH~ GOJO X READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: inaccurate medical talk (I don't know much of medical practice), mention of blood and needles. not proof read ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You look at the pale man in front of you… well he is a lot paler than usual. One hand on your hip and the other one holding the needle. Your eyes narrowed into a glare as you stared at Gojo. 

Previous words falling deaf upon his ears. 

“You have to turn your infinity off.” You state, once again, not really amused with how Gojo was acting. 

His lips turned into a pout, like he was trying to convince you. But no amount of begging and pleading would get him out of this situation. 

“Come on, you know I am only doing this because I care for you. I mean look at you!” You say waving your hand that wasn’t carrying the needle. 

Gojo didn’t need to look in a mirror to see his current state. He could feel it. He felt more tired, skin paler than usual, a sharp pain in his head, and he felt clammy all over. His heartbeat was beating faster, and he didn't know if it was because of the needle you were holding or just because he didn’t feel well. 

“But isn’t there another way to do this?” 

You tilted your head to the side, pretending to be thinking. “Nope, unless you have another way of getting your blood into this little container.” 

Gojo didn’t respond, because he knew that you needed to draw blood. It would allow you to run the test and tell him what’s wrong. 

With a defeated sigh, he deactivated his infinity. Smiling triumphantly, you sat on the small chair right next to him. 

With the free hand, you pull down his left arm, checking for any veins. 

Your eyes slightly widen seeing the cool blue veins running across his inner forearm. 

“Oh wow… at least I won’t have a hard time finding your veins.” 

You would be lying if you didn’t find the veins attractive. This was every nurses’ dream. And honestly, if you didn’t have any control of your body, you would be drooling right now. 

“They’re just everyones’ weakness.” Gojo quietly says while flexing his arm, causing the veins to bulge a bit. 

You chuckle a bit, swatting lightly at his shoulder, “oh. Stop it.” 

Gojo smiles at your reaction, somehow finding your smile and laugh being able to relax him. 

“This might be a little tight,” you tell him as you start to tie the elastic band around his upper arm. 

Gojo’s nose scrunches up at the rubber pinching his skin, not liking the feeling. He wanted to turn his infinity on, but he knew that you would just scold him in return. 

“Okay… you’re going to feel a slight pinch and it’ll be over before you know it.” 

Grabbing the needle and the tube, you place your other hand on his arm to keep him steady. The cool and clammy skin is not phasing you, but you can tell how nervous he is. Just by how tense his muscles were and how his veins were basically popping out of his skin. 

“Relax, the more tense you are. The harder this is going to be.” You tell him. Gojo was silent for a bit, like he was considering something. 

“Can I atleast… hold your hand?” He asks and your lips quirk up into a small smile. 

You thought it was cute and you couldn’t resist the look on his face either. “Well, I need both hands to insert the needle and hook up the tube.” 

You can see the disappointed look on his face and it made you feel bad for a moment. “But once I set it up, I’ll hold your hand. Sound good?” 

He nods his head in agreement. 

Sticking the needle into his skin, he visibly flinches and he tenses up a little. 

“Relax, almost done.” You whisper while hooking up the tube. 

Once you finish, Gojo grabs onto your hand. 

You chuckle, “see. It wasn’t that bad.” 

Gojo laughs a little as well and you can feel the nervousness leave his body. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not that bad.” He says before looking down. 

Just as the blood started to flow through into the tube. 

The sight of his blood leaves an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Not from nerves this time. It was something else, and it all came too fast. The feeling of his head feeling light yet, his heart beating faster, his ears feeling like being stuffed with cotton.  

“Gojo!” Was the last thing he was able to comprehend before fainting.

It literally felt like a second to him before he came to. His vision was a bit blurry before it focused on a person that stood a couple feet away from him. 

It was you, flipping through papers. He could see your eyebrows furrowed, lips turned into a frown. He could tell that whatever was on the paper was stressing you out. 

He moves himself, trying to sit up. But he felt something tug on his arm. He looked down, seeing that there was an IV connected to his arm. The same arm where the blood was being drawn. 

“You know,” you start, “when I ask what your diet consists of. That means telling me that you literally only consume junk food.” 

He looked up at you, shocked from how fast you were now standing in front of him. One hand was on your hip and the other was holding the small stack of papers that you were reading earlier. 

“I thought that was well known!” He rebuttals and you just shake your head. “No, Satoru. I’m being serious. Your blood sugar is off the charts, which caused you to have a crash, hence the passing out.” 

Gojo just pouts at your words. Sighing, you place the papers on the little desk that was right next to the bed. “Satoru, I’m only saying this because I care about you. You’re not as young anymore, so you have to start eating things that are not just sugar. Foods that will help your health.” 

“How long was I out?” Gojo asks. 

“About an hour. Enough time for me to run the test. Speaking of… you don’t need this anymore.” You say, while pulling out the liquid IV out of his arm. 

“Ow!” Gojo yelps at the sudden pinching in his arms, “you could’ve warned me.” “Sorry, I’m running low on patience and pity right now.” 

Gojo sighs at your words, guilt gnawing at the bottom of his stomach. You were always saying how much you cared for him, and he can’t imagine how you were feeling when he fainted. How scared you might have been. 

“(y/n)...” he starts grabbing onto your smaller hand, “I’m sorry. I really am.” 

You look into his eyes, surprised that he was actually apologizing to you. 

“I’ll… I’ll try. But I think I’m going to need a little extra help from my favorite nurse.” He winks at you and you roll your eyes in response. 

“Nice try. But you’re not off the hook that easily.” 

Gojo grins at your words. “Trust me, I’ll make it up to you.” 

“You better.”

[impossiblesuitcase]

This You I Choose - part i.

Peeta is rescued from the Capitol, tortured but not hijacked, and 'this would've happened anyway' happens earlier.

When Peeta and I do reunite, he doesn’t kiss me like I’d expected him to. He’s in a stupor, vague and bleary-eyed and can only weakly mouth my name in disbelief. His limbs are rubber as I crash into him yet he wraps them around me all the same. I’m the one to cup his face in my hands, sobbing and angry and so relieved it electrifies every nerve in my body.

The doctors prod at him for what feels like the length of a whole Hunger Games, and I’m waiting for them to leave so I can cry and hold him and I need them to just leave. Leave. 

They don’t. So I pretend they aren’t there.

Peeta doesn’t kiss me. He doesn’t grin or tease like he did without fail in the arena, no matter how dire the situation. He strokes my hair, face slack with awe. He repeats my name, again and again and again like a mockingjay. My questions—interrupted by sobs—go unanswered. Are you okay? What did they do to you? Where did they hurt you? 

So as the doctors are grabbing his arm far too roughly for my liking and forcing a needle into his vein, he squirms something awful.

And I kiss him.

Once, twice, again and again. It’s kiss five that he registers and kisses me back, and then this lasts for a long time but never long enough. Haymitch comes to collect me, tears me from Peeta’s arms so the doctors can experiment on him some more. I thrash, I scream. Peeta does too.

I’m not allowed back in the hospital until the next morning. With no doctors closely lingering, I crawl under the thin hospital blanket and envelop him in my arms. I trace his scars, monitor his crackling breaths and sponge kisses to his lips and pulse points. When I stop, he comes in for more, and I know that we are both administering pain medication this way.

The morphling relaxes him, but I think my touch is much longer lasting.

———

Over the next days I am consumed by Peeta. He is constantly on edge, distrusting everybody except a handful. Me, Prim, occasionally my mother. Even Haymitch is a bad taste in his mouth, and for how little he speaks, we’re all shocked when he summons the lung capacity to scream at him for lying to us in the Quarter Quell.

It ends in whimpering sobs, which only abate as I cradle his head into the wee hours of the morning.

I can’t stand to be parted from him, convinced Snow will turn the corner, laugh at me balefully and taunt from those puffy lips, “Oh, Miss Everdeen, you didn’t truly think I’d let you keep him?” When those nightmares awaken me at night, I do my best to stifle my gasps. I can’t disturb Peeta’s precious few hours of sleep.

Something different now is how often I kiss him. It’s for his sake, I think at first, but I begin to seriously doubt that. When I’m forced to leave his side for meals I swear I feel myself growing weaker if I go too long without my source.

Haymitch relays to me updates on the resistance, their efforts, Coin and Plutarch’s latest strategies. He more than once reminds me that Coin is looking for a Mockingjay, not the star-crossed lovers, and I’m expected to eventually show up to strategy meetings. I ignore him.

Once, when I’m barred from his room by the doctors—citing a medical procedure that cannot be interfered with—I return to my own quarters. Prim is there, stroking that mangy cat, and looks surprised to see me.

“You’re back?”

“Not for long. Just until they let me back into the hospital,” I grumble.

Prim stands and heaves Buttercup up to her chest, who hisses at me as though I’m the one who disturbed his rest. She opens the drawer where my belongings lie; the locket, the stopwatch, the pearl.

“I thought you might want to take this.” She picks up the pearl and folds it into my palm.

I run it around my knuckles. “Why?”

“Haymitch suggested that you ‘give it to the boyfriend,’” she explains. “We thought it might settle him a bit.”

I scoff at Haymitch’s choice of words and look at Prim, expecting a glint of teasing in her eyes. She of all people knows the love story was for show. To protect her, in fact. A byproduct of protecting my sister’s childhood for all these years is that she has the gall of a teenager. She makes jabs at me often but her giggles and grins always give it away. I wait for this now, but her face is as sound as ever.

“What?” 

She looks at me, innocent and unblinking. “You know, to remind him of how things were before he was in the Capitol.”

“You think he’s my boyfriend?” I spit out.

She smiles. “A lot of people think that. I’ve seen you together since he was rescued. Seemed a little more than friendly.”

“That’s no different to how we were in the Games,” I argue.

“Yes it is. No one’s forcing you to do any of it anymore.” Buttercup is glaring at me condescendingly, and I hate the idea that this stupid cat thinks it understands emotions better than I can. “You’re a bad actress, Katniss,” Prim continues, laughing a little. “And you hate being lovey-dovey. Could you have played out that romance thing with anyone else?”

No. But maybe—Gale…and then, I don’t think either of us would’ve thought to play the romance card. We would’ve treated it as one of our hunts, except some of our prey spoke like us. I try to imagine if I’d like the strategy better and I’m struck by a realisation. Gale would have killed. Not just defensively. I remember—just before I was taken to the Capitol for the first Games—he told me that the other tributes were just like animals. Would he have set up snares and traps, sized to fit a child rather than a rabbit? Would he have sought to eliminate our competition? Peeta wasn’t just trying to protect us with the love angle. It prevented us from having to kill.

Would I have been horrified by Gale by the end of the Games?

“Maybe it was for the Games, but I don’t think you could’ve done it if you hadn’t at least liked the person to begin with,” Prim observes.

I gape at my sister and her unabashedness and how she’s right. I think about my own mother; how I reject her every advance and brush of affection. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to kiss and feign endearment for some random boy that I met in the Games, even with survival on the line. I would’ve recoiled instantly and Haymitch would’ve groaned as the sponsors dried up and I’d be dead.

But I hadn’t really known Peeta before the Games. Not properly. How did he make it so easy?

I snatch up the locket, tuck the pearl in the pocket of my uniform. “I’m going to lunch,” I say, despite the hollowness in my stomach having nothing to do with food. Prim bids me goodbye, unfazed by my flightiness. 

After a lacklustre meal of some grey mush, I check the schedule on my arm and finally follow it.

———

“Hey, Catnip.”

I jump back, startled. Even with the telltale nickname, it doesn’t immediately register to me that the newcomer is Gale. As I turn to face him, taking in the amusement in his seam-grey eyes, I scold myself. This is Gale. Whom I’ve been spending almost all of my time with since coming to 13.

It’s only in realising this that I also realise I haven’t seen him since Peeta’s return. 

“Hey,” I say.

“Feeling better?”

I cock my head to the side. “Better?”

“Now that Peeta’s back,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Do you feel like yourself again?”

I’ve been incomplete since he was kidnapped, and I try to determine if I’m whole now that he’s been returned. Almost. He isn’t quite the Peeta that I lost anymore; still, I am not his Katniss from the Seam.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

He gazes at me expectantly. I quirk an eyebrow. 

A chortle rocks his chest. “You’re not going to ask if I’m okay? After rescuing his life?”

Right. Prim, Gale, Peeta. The three people I protect in every universe. “Sorry, I’ve been distracted lately,” I confess sheepishly, scratching my forearm. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

Seeing him again makes me feel steadier. A little more like that girl from the woods. “What are you doing here?”

He taps the tattoo on his arm. “I’m rostered to be here. As are you.”

Weapons training. Trainee soldiers are scattered around the range, some aiming at targets and others being taught the anatomy of a gun by a soldier. No one is shooting yet. With how skittish I become at loud sounds these days, I’ll probably leave when that starts. Gale unstraps a gun from his holster and hands it to me. I fiddle with its mechanisms, trying to recall any of the training on its assembly.

Gale watches for a while and decides to pity me. “Here, let me show you.”

He comes up behind me, my back to his chest. His arms weave around my waist and lay over my hands. Then he manoeuvres them around the parts, removing the magazine and the other pieces I don’t know the name of and leads my hands in a rehearsed dance of reassembling them.

This closeness is nice and familiar. I haven’t embraced him for a while now, but his strong heartbeat reflected against my back reminds me that—even in these dismal bunkers of 13—I can have a piece of home.

With the weapon readied, I graze the trigger and have a sudden vision of it firing against my will. A shudder courses through me. His hands still.

“What’s wrong?”

My head shakes on its own. “Nothing.” But knowing he won’t believe that, I shakily amend, “It’s…this whole thing. We can’t live in this bunker forever. But 12 is gone. I feel like I’m just waiting for this stint to be over”—and to kill Snow, I don’t say—“so we can just go home.”

“Me too.”

“No. I can’t want that.” I extricate myself from him, turning to face him instead. His face is set with hardness as always but his eyes droop with sympathy. “I’m alive. So is Prim and my mother and you. And Peeta was taken from me but he’s back. I have better things to fret over.”

Gale cups my face with one hand and I lean into the touch. “It was home, Katniss. Of course you miss it.”

“I don’t deserve to.” And then I whisper what’s been underlying, plaguing me for weeks with nowhere for the thought to go. “Not when it’s my fault.”

He looks displeased. “Did you drop the bomb?”

I’m starting to think that that doesn’t matter much anymore. That whether you’re at the scene of the crime or being lifted from a broken arena by hovercraft, every thread eventually leads back to the spool. The larking Mockingjay.

“I did, in a way, didn’t I? Doesn’t matter if I was there or not. I practically devised it with every move I made against Snow.”

“Things happen in war, Katniss.” Perhaps I would agree with him, but the roiling in my stomach can’t easily digest this simplification. “You can’t keep hurting yourself. You have to forgive yourself.”

I toss the gun to the floor, loathing the sight of it and distancing myself from him because he’s wrong when his hands still me. His eyes are deep with intent. Then he’s leaning in and I have ample time to know what’s coming. I allow him.

The second his lips touch mine, I flinch. It’s instinct. I have no control over the action.

He pulls away. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” I trail off, unable to find the words. I don’t know what’s wrong.

He considers me for a long moment, then shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “I see.”

“What? What do you see?”

He shakes his head, voice acerbic. “No, no, I knew. But I ignored it. Can’t anymore though, can we?”

“Tell me,” I order, because he’s being cryptic and irritable and I am unable to draw the conclusion he has. It frustrates me just how well he can read my own emotions when I can’t even decipher them myself. I thought it was bad enough from Buttercup, but this is exponentially worse.

“You love him. Peeta.”

The instinct to refute him shrivels up in my chest. It doesn’t ring false. Yes, I do care about Peeta. He’s a friend. An ally. A partner.

“I care about him,” I agree. “But I care about you too.”

“How?” he challenges.

“The same as him. You’re my friends. My allies.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. “But that isn’t all.”

I think of when Gale was whipped, laying beneath the cover of ice, and I chose him. Then, as soon as I’d been called for the Quarter Quell, I had been all too comfortable seeking another pair of arms to warm me. Because I was lonely, a voice scolds. Because I’m selfish. 

Am I still lonely now? Yes. Am I clinging to Peeta merely because I need company? Is that why I would have done anything to get him back?

I would’ve killed Snow. And Coin. And if Gale stood in my way….

“I don’t know,” I say.

“Don’t you?” he says bitingly. “Isn’t that the reason you’ve been glued to his hip since the moment he came back?”

“And what’s it to you?” I snap. 

“You know what.”

Because I owe him. As a friend. As I had personally appointed myself to be Gale’s lover. Even if ‘lover’ never came to fruition. Even if he never knew it.

Peeta. Friend. Ally. Partner. There’s something unsaid. For Peeta, partner feels…insufficient. Something is missing.

The hunger coursing through my body. The desperation I felt without him.

“No. That’s not all. Not for him,” I admit.

Gale chuckles ruefully. He reaches out and tucks hair behind my ear. There’s a coldness on his face with the action. “I knew. Since I saw you kissing him on that beach, I knew—it was a foregone conclusion. You’ve chosen him.”

“That’s not—”

“When you were kissing him in the arena, were you thinking about me?” he interrupts.

My mouth opens and closes a few times. “Sometimes. I’d feel guilty about kissing him. Because of you.” 

“Because you wanted to be kissing me? Or because you thought I’d be hurt by it?”

His words—plain, but cutting—stun me. I hadn’t allowed myself to consider it, but isn’t it true? Did I want him in my arms, rocking me to sleep, kissing me and me kissing him? No, I wasn’t thinking of that at all. I felt guilty. It felt like I was being unfaithful to him.

I can recognise that feeling because at this moment he has stolen the kiss from my mouth that is reserved for Peeta’s lips.

All the moments I’ve shared with this boy run past my thoughts and away into oblivion. I think about how I spent years with him, alone in the woods. How at any point my feelings should have developed and appeared. How only now, in war and Games and death, do I feel a longing for him.

If this is over, do I see myself in his arms? When things are good? Do I crave his kisses? His comfort?

Gale leans in and kisses me on the cheek. It’s familial and stirs nothing beneath my sternum. “Told ya. I won’t stand in your way, Catnip.” 

Then he leaves. I have no desire to chase after him though I feel I should. It’s the nice thing to do, the friendly thing. But after this interrogation, I wonder if that’s why I do anything for Gale. Because I fear that if I don’t he will leave me and I can’t bear to lose anyone else.

I listen to his retreating footsteps until the guns begin to fire. I touch my hand to my cheek.

———

I spend a good hour meandering down the halls of 13’s gloomy bunker. My thoughts tick over on repeat, again and again and again. Peeta will be waiting for me and that’s louder than most of my other ruminations.

You’ve chosen him, Gale said, but that tastes like a lie in my mouth. That implies that I have committed to a relationship, and in turn a future, a marriage, children. Anyone who knows me knows I haven’t committed to that, ever. So there’s no choice to make.

Some choices I have made were never choices in the first place. To volunteer for Prim. To ally with Rue. To save Peeta in the Quarter Quell over myself. Those were never something I decided. I would not be Katniss Everdeen if I had chosen otherwise.

I reach the hospital. My feet brought me here unbidden, drawn by the magnetism lying inside. Peeta. I linger by his doorway, listening for his slow breathing. If he’s asleep, I’ll go in. That way I can just look at him. To understand. To decide if Gale is right.

“Katniss?” I hear him call softly.

I enter. He’s smiling wearily, tired but content. “How did you know I was there?” I ask.

“I didn’t. I heard footsteps. I was hoping it was you.”

My arms are crossed over my chest, my stance defensive.

His brow furrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I resist.

“Well, then come here.” He holds out his arms.

“What?”

“The most effective treatment for ‘nothing’ is burying yourself in hugs. Shouldn’t you know that—healer’s daughter?”

He must be picking up a bit if he’s teasing me like this, so I go over. I cuddle up in his arms and my skin is electric with his touch. It’s never felt this way before. Not even on the beach. That was hunger. This is safety, my soul fitting back into my body exactly as it should. I have embraced him every day and night since his return, but this ailment is symptomatic only now that I know about it.

I can never leave his arms. I kiss him, just to double-check, and I sigh as I have my confirmation.

I never chose Peeta. Just like I never chose Prim or Rue. It is, what did Gale call it? A foregone conclusion.

It would be against my very being to not need him.

I pull away and he whines, gently. “Hey, I was enjoying that.”

“You can have more.”

He gives me a tired grin. “When?”

I lay my head on his chest and settle in for the night. My mother won’t be expecting me anyway. She’s given up trying to keep me from him. In fact, only two days past Finnick had teased that Plutarch’s query as to my whereabouts was stupid, because I had a new residence in the Mellark room in the hospital. When Prim relayed the story to me I’d been ambivalent about to react. Now, I want to scoff alongside Finnick. Yes, what a stupid question. Where else would I be?

“Whenever you want.” 

Notes

Part two

@gingerale2017 i know you love everlark ;)