#so still quite a bit before you get to see them actually clothed lmao

[askfairyromano]

you're gorgeous when you smile! and no, that's not a joke or a come on, im being sincere. also???? holy shit????? ludwig is massive??????? that man is a wrought iron gate if ive ever seen one. you could try playing matchmaker, if youre tired of the pining. could you have him transferred to be your brother's guard instead? who knows, maybe it would help them along with whatever they've got going on and you can perhaps get a guard more your type, hm? if you both have to stand there staring at each other, you may as well find someone you think is cute! even royalty should be allowed some eye candy, in my very humble opinion. and of course its true! people absolutely know your face, and while thats not to say your ass isn't great, because it is, it's perfectly reasonable for people to be attracted to both. that and your intelligence and humor. don't sell yourself short! youre a catch! and no amount of 'brokenness' or trauma can negate the fact that you are lovely, something that the people around you absolutely notice and appreciate.

(well then mun it seems like you're stuck with me for the time being <3 im so deeply fascinated by this whole world youve created and im happy to dig into the lore youve got buried around here! i may have spoiled myself, but eh it was worth it. it popped up on my feed so ofc i checked! the one i saw was the one that has the white bed, for the hetazin. it was gorgeous, but i mentioned that before. you make him look stunning in all different forms!)

[plutoswritingplanet]

could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?

You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)

a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3

Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes

Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.

Part 2.

You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.

There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.

"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.

They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.

So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.

"Hostage!"

Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.

Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.

"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."

You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.

"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.

"Barely."

"Can you dance though?"

"Barely as well."

He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.

"You'll be performing in our next act."

Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".

"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.

They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.

"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"

The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.

"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"

He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.

Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.

"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.

"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.

He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.

"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.

"Sing for me some more" he says.

And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.

A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.

And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.

It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.

An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.

Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.

Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.

You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"

You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.

"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."

At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.

So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.

"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.

"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."

He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.

"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"

Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.

"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"

Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.

"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.

Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.

Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.

"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.

"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."

You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.

Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.

"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.

Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.

"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.

So he hasn't let this one go.

No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.

"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door. "Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.

He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.

You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 11: Gepard x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 4812

Warnings: Afab!reader, childhood friends to lovers, uniform, sex in public, clothed sex, dry humping, much talk of marriage plans, this one is very soft and unproblematic lol

A/N: I love, love, love Gepard, you guys. Fun fact, actually, I kept pulling for him on the standard banner to no avail and I thought for sure I was going to have to wait until I got my free 5* pick at 200 pulls but then I finally got him on Valentine's Day this year! And Serval came with him so I took that as my sign that it was meant to be and she approved of our relationship. lmao

⭐

It was always easy to pick Gepard out in a crowd for a handful of reasons. 

The least of which was his considerable height which made him, quite literally, stand out amongst a population of citizens that didn’t skew much towards being tall. There were a handful of other men who evenly matched him and even fewer still who managed to surpass his size, but they were in the minority by a considerable margin. 

What further distinguished him from the rest was his hair. That pale blond wasn’t an overly common color one could find in Belobog, though certainly not unheard of. It was, however, something of a signature for the Landau family. All of them seemed to have it and the particular shade never differed all that much between them.  

So it was safe to say if you spotted someone who was rather tall with a boyishly tousled mop of soft blond hair atop his head, it was more than likely the Silvermane captain. And should you still have any doubts, the strong voice of conviction that he used to delegate his men and issue commands was another dead give away. There wasn’t anyone else quite like him wearing the pure white armor of Belobog’s militaristic armed forces who believed in what he stood for with quite so much steadfast tenacity. 

It makes it very hard for you not to smile as you work your way through the densely packed street on a sure trajectory towards the object of your affection. You’d caught sight of him further back at the far edge of the bustling throng of bodies, just as you always did, but now you were close enough that you could clearly hear him speaking over the general din. 

The final nail in the coffin comes when you sidle up alongside him much to the querious looks of the men gathered before him and he turns those striking, crystalline blue eyes on you. Even amongst his fellow Landau’s you’d never seen anyone with eyes quite like his. 

“Oh.” He blurts, clearly surprised at your sudden appearance beside him. “You’re already here? My apologies, I didn’t realize what time - -“

Giggling softly when he cranes his head around in search of any clocks in the immediate vicinity, you reach out to gently tug on the corner of his jacket and bring his attention back around. “Don’t worry, you didn’t lose track and forget about me. I’m just early, that’s all.” 

The tension in his shoulders immediately recedes, and Gepard fixes you with a small but pleased smile. “Ah, I see. I’m glad to hear it then. You had me a bit nervous for a moment there.” 

“It’s okay. I know how busy you are.”

“Yes, well …” 

Trailing off, he somewhat awkwardly turns his gaze towards his men again and you follow his line of sight to find them rather blatantly watching the scene play out. Shameless gossips, all of them. 

Not that you could really blame the soldiers for their interest considering how stringently upright and respectable their captain was, so getting to see him interact with a woman wasn’t something they were very used to. Even Serval, his older sister, was rarely seen with him despite her past ties to the Silvermane’s so it doesn’t exactly come as a great surprise that they would be curious. 

But it’s clear that Gepard isn’t entirely comfortable having a rapt audience like this, and he gives a deliberate cough to make sure they were listening. As if there were even any doubt. 

“I’m going to step away for a moment but you all have your orders. Make sure you don’t get distracted just because there’s a festival going on.  I’ll be back momentarily.” 

Turning towards you again to a masculine chorus of ‘yes, sir’s, Gepard politely reaches out to take your elbow so he can steer you away from the onlookers. You send them a quick wave over your shoulder but allow him to direct you where he wants, happy to go along with him wherever he might choose to go. 

The two of you had known each other since you were children, though it was kind of hard not to be at least passingly acquainted with everyone who happened to be in your general age range when Belobog had such limited space to offer its citizens. The reopening of the Underworld had returned the settlements' range back to its former reach though, and now there were even efforts being made to expand outward as well. And although you’d seen less of each other at the onset of adolescence and into early adulthood, there was still an infinite wealth of trust between you and him. If he suddenly said to run out of the city into the barren, frozen tundra beyond you wouldn’t have even thought to question it. 

Luckily he just pulls you away from the busy square and down a quieter side street though. You’re glad for it since you weren’t wearing anything heavier than a thick sweater to keep you warm, and you don’t think you’re up for a trek through the endless snowdrifts outside the walls. 

Stopping together just short of one of the many heaters dotting the street, he finally moves to look down at you again. It’s with a much more at ease smile this time and you can’t help the resulting pang you feel in your chest. 

It wasn’t always like this. He wasn’t always so tall and filled out, and you didn’t always have to tip your head back to look him in the face. 

You also didn’t always feel quite so compelled to tug him down for a kiss, but in terms of developments this one was still quite new. Even his strict father didn’t yet know about the recent change in the dynamic between you and his son, and there was very little that ever managed to slip under his radar. Perhaps he was just finally starting to slow down in his old age though. 

“You look lovely today” Gepard tells you in the here and now, giving his uniform a vague gesture with his gloved hand. “I almost feel out of place wearing the same thing I always do when you’re dressed up so nice. I’m sorry I can’t run home and change.” 

“I don’t want to hear another word about it. You look dashing, as always.” Pinning him with a sly grin, you reach out to slip your finger into the fur sash around his waist and give it a brief tug. “I like your uniform, but you already knew that. I’m not sure if anyone else pulls it off quite like you do.”

Eyes widening to accompany the faint splash of pink that creeps into his face, Gepard steps back from you with a surreptitious glance over his shoulder as if to make sure no one was looking. “Don’t joke around like that! My men are already whispering - -“

“Then let them whisper. Your father has to find out about us at some point.” 

“That’s not what worries me.” He insists, sending you a rueful glance. “You know this isn’t proper. If people start to suspect we’ve been … intimate before I’ve even asked for your hand, that’ll cause us both a whole world of problems.” 

Feigning a soft huff, you bring your hands up to brace them on your hips in an intentionally haughty pose. “There’s an easy fix for that, Gepard. Would you like to hear it?” 

He tips his head, blinking at you rather inquisitively now. “Certainly. If you’ve got such a great idea then - -“

Stepping into him and cutting Gepard off, you reach up to grab hold of his collar at the same time you bounce forward on your toes. Despite being both much bigger and much stronger than you, he doesn’t even pretend to fight it and just lets you pull him down into an eager kiss that makes him noise a soft little sound of surprise. 

He’s much too good and chivalrous, you think to yourself when his hands come up to politely curl around your shoulders rather than anywhere else he could have grabbed you. His upbringing shows in everything he does though, including the way he tentatively kisses you back as if you hadn’t already made it abundantly clear just how much you enjoyed feeling his lips on your skin. It seemed he was always going to let you set the pace though, at least until some inevitable tipping point was reached and he couldn’t help but let go of those pesky inhibitions holding him back. 

Oh well. That just meant you had that much longer to teach him a few more things before setting him loose on your body. And you were certain he’d take these lessons to heart because he was nothing if not resolute in every task he took on. You didn’t doubt for one second that love making would be any different in that regard. 

Finally rocking back to peer up at him, you give Gepard a great big smile. “Propose to me then. They can’t say anything about it if we’re already engaged, right?” 

Taking a moment to search your face with a glimmer of fond admiration reflecting in his steady gaze, the Silvermane captain eventually breathes out a slow sigh through his nose. “There’s nothing I’d love more, you know that. But there’s a certain way these things need to be done.”

“Such as?” 

“After I get permission from both our parents’, for starters.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh as you look up into his handsome face. You almost wished you had the capacity to be annoyed with him and his adamancy for following the rules, but you really just can’t find fault in it. There wasn’t anyone who embodied the spirit of the Amber Lord’s preservation quite the same as he did, after all. It was an admirable trait to have, even if you yourself weren’t much for upholding tradition or customs. 

“That little wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when you’re thinking too hard about something is very cute,” He murmurs, a fond note dancing in his voice now as he bends closer to place a soothing kiss to the spot in question. “But I still wish you wouldn’t fret over this so much. You have my word that what I feel for you is true and my loyalty cannot be called into question. It may not be officially sanctioned yet, but I’ve already sworn my vows to you as far as I’m concerned.” 

“I know.” You murmur, all but preening under his tender, doting affection now. “Thank you, Gepard. I’m just eager to be with you.” 

“As am I, rest assured. But we’ll get there soon enough. You just need to have patience, sweetheart.” 

Your smile takes on a mischievous edge as you bring your hand up to meaningfully tug on his jacket. “Then let’s do it. Come on, it’ll be fun.” 

“Right here?” He asks, incredulous. “You’re crazy. We can’t possibly do something like that in public. And I can only stay for a few minutes more before I’m needed back at - -“

“Please.” You cut him off, imploringly batting your eyelashes up at him. 

Visibly conflicted, Gepard opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it and closes it again. Grumbling a low sound under his breath, he turns his face from you as if he couldn’t bear to look for another moment longer without folding, but you could tell you’d already won. Those vows he’d spoken of had been sufficient enough for him to bend the rules just a little bit, as much as he was likely capable of. It wasn’t much once you got right down to it and you suspected this arguably small allowance caused him much more grief than simply waiting it out would have, but he was much too softhearted to say ‘no’ to you indefinitely. 

This part of your dynamic, at least, hadn’t changed one bit over the years. He’d always had a hard time not giving into your demands, going along with whatever cockamamie game or scheme you concocted even when he was nearly in tears while doing it. That just showed how seriously he regarded the tradition of marriage though, if he still refused to budge that last little bit even now. 

But on this one thing he was grudgingly willing to relent and he does indeed give in to the coaxing tug on his jacket with another low rumble, allowing you to pull him into the cramped alley you were standing next to. It’s noticeably chillier the further you move from the street heater but you trust him to keep you warm, just like he always did. 

You can’t help giggling an eager sound as you back up towards the wall when you deem that you’re far enough from the lip of the alleyway that you wouldn’t be easily spotted should anyone happen by. He obediently shuffles after you, bringing one hand up to firmly brace against the rough bricks just next to your head as he hunches close to cage you in. The other he uses to slip under your chin and tip your face up at him, that steady, tepid blue gaze meeting yours. Feeling your anticipatory excitement wind just that little bit tighter, you reach out to give his waist an encouraging squeeze. 

“Here should be fine, right?” 

“This is hardly what I would consider fine,” He grumbles back, resigned to his fate but clearly not entirely unwilling. “You’ll be the death of me some day if you keep this up. I hope you know that.” 

“As if I’d let you get away that easily.��� 

Grinning, you once again rock forward and go up on your toes so you can entice him down for another kiss. It works, of course, and he bends closer to slot his mouth over yours with a stilted sigh. His lingering reticence quickly dissipates though as you work your lips over his, tasting him in such a full bodied head rush that it almost leaves you dizzy. 

The clean scent of him mixed with the vague smell of ozone swarms your senses and makes you want him even more, hungrily tipping your head to deepen the exchange. Gepard hesitates to do it, still ever mindful of where this was taking place, but he gradually opens his mouth to allow his tongue to come up and brush against yours. It had taken you about a week to convince him that this kind of intimate kissing wouldn’t break the rules so terribly that his father would disown him on the spot if he ever found out about it. And you bask in it now, relishing the warm push and enticing pull of his tongue as it dances with yours. 

At the same time you let your hands wander over the front of him to feel along the cool press of his armor, all the bits and bobbles on his uniform. You hadn’t been joking earlier about liking it. In fact, you really liked it and you were glad for his willingness to humor you while wearing it. He’d always been a cute kid with those sweet, sweet blues in his eyes and age had only improved on what was already there. 

But he’s much more reserved than you are about allowing his touch to drift any lower than where it’s somewhat possessively curled around the side of your neck, so you reach up to grab at his blocky wrist. Gepard noises a soft sound into your lips as you drag his hand down and redirect it to your chest. At first his fingers remain stiff and unreciprocal when you push the palm into one breast but then a faint shudder works through him to accompany the quiet rumble of a masculine groan. 

Carefully closing his fingers around the swell of your tit, he gives it a brief, groping squeeze to almost make your toes curl in your boots. He was always so gentle and hyper aware of how he handled you, which was a good trait for someone as big and strong as he was to have. You knew he could have hurt you if he really wanted to and it would have been exceptionally easy for him to do so, but the loyal captain had never so much as even raised his voice at you. He was the exact opposite of his father in so many different ways and his strictly disciplined self control assured you he would never become like the man who’d raised him. 

It was kind of sweet, in all honesty. How he insisted on treating you like fragile glass that might shatter in his hand if he wasn’t cautious enough despite your insistence to the contrary. He was much too soft for roughhousing. Always had been. 

But the more he kneads at your breast through the front of your sweater, the more comfortable he becomes with doing it. Just as every other time, after that initial uncertainty wears off, Gepard takes to it with natural aptitude.

His hands are big to match his considerable size and he makes easy work of palming the swell of your chest to squish and slightly lift it. Still exceedingly gentle, still mindful of how much pressure he applies, but so incredibly attentive to the task that you can’t quite stifle the needy mewl that crawls up your throat. You could feel the nipple slowly growing stiff and pebbled against the cup of your bra, and you finally pull back from the kiss to look up at him again. 

“Ohh. That feels good, Gepard. Keep doing it, just like that.” You encourage him with the softly issued, hushed praise as you dreamily slide your fingers over the gauntlet he’d been gifted by the previous Supreme Guardian. Each metal ridge and divot registers in your mind and yet you hardly even notice it at all when he was groping your chest like that. 

It seems to be the same for him on some level, and you can tell he doesn’t perceive anything other than you in that moment when he bends his head close to lightly press your foreheads together. The world may as well have come to a screeching standstill at that very moment for as little as anything else mattered, and you tip your face up slightly to better look at him from this angle. 

“You’re doing such a good job.” You tell him earnestly, giving your back a subdued arch to press your tit further into his hand. “I can’t wait to finally have you on our wedding night.” 

A low, long suffering groan rumbles out of him, eyes sliding shut while he rides out the faint tremor that seems to work down his spine in response. “Don’t say that. It’s already hard enough to behave myself when you’re so …” 

“So what?” 

His eyes open again to look at you as the hand braced against the wall comes down to hesitantly join the other in kneading your breasts. “So perfect. So beautiful and smart. And frustratingly clever too.” 

“Oh,” You breathe out when he lifts your chest in both his palms to pinch and squeeze at you more vigorously. “Is that what you’re calling it now? Clever?” 

“Yes. Trouble is probably more accurate but I was trying to be polite.” 

The two of you laugh at that, Gepard’s masculine rumble intertwining with your girlish giggles to create a truly harmonious sound that almost seems too good to be true. It was at times astounding how much you actually complemented each other, to the point where your relationship now seemed like a foregone conclusion in retrospect. Where he was unfalteringly honorable and stubborn, you were soft and playful. It was a good balance, you’d quickly come to find. 

And when you reach down to feel across the front of his neatly ironed slacks only to find him hard and eagerly straining towards you, you’re filled with a giddy sense of wonder at how you’d managed to coax him even this far. Doing this in the privacy of your little apartment was one thing and already an impressive feat. But to do it here, outside on the street where anyone could happen upon you at any time? It was downright unbelievable, or it would have been were you not seeing it with your own two eyes. Had you not been holding the weighty proof of his feelings for you in the palm of your hand. 

Feeling your cunt squeeze in anticipation, you tip your head back to accept the kiss he leans down to press into your mouth with a faltering groan. To get his pants undone you need to bring both hands together to work in tandem, and your lips hungrily push back against him while you work on the series of buttons keeping his placket shut. You’re admittedly a bit surprised he doesn’t change his mind right then and there, but just as with everything else once he’d made up his mind about something there was no going back on it. 

Taking your time, you carefully free him just enough to let his rigid length slip out into the open, making him hiss a soft sound at the chill on his skin. His cock bobs between your body and his, looking like it wanted to retreat back into the warm safety of his slacks but was just a little too excited to truly flag. Cooing a gentle sound of comfort at him, you shuffle close to throw your arms over Gepard’s broad shoulders and he gratefully wraps his around you so he can pick you right up off your feet. 

Once he’s got you secured to the front of him, he shuffles closer to the wall to pin you there. Your skirt is all askew around your thighs now, trapped in the press of your bodies as he settles comfortably into the space of your parted thighs with his cock pressed right up against your panties. This was as far as he would allow it to go, always insisting that the thin final barrier of your underwear remain until all of the customary criteria were met first. But oh, you’re so incredibly grateful for even that much as you shudder at the tight, hot press of him right along your slit. 

Sometimes it felt like he was driving you mad, and this was very much one of them. You could have screamed for him to just take you already, public decency be damned, when he starts up a slow, steady grind that has his stiff length digging into your cunt. It feels good as far as compromises go and yet it just makes you all the more eager to feel him touching you skin to skin, moving inside you rather than this. 

You move with him though, working your hips to help guide him and set the pace you want which he happily obliges. The intense look of concentration on Gepard’s face urges you to lean further into him so you can kiss over his brow, his temple, the bridge of his nose. He moans a breathy sound when his focus starts to slip because of what you’re doing and the power behind his thrusts picks up a notch to match that spike in his arousal. He was particularly sensitive after years of waiting with only his own hand for company, but something told you he’d still display this same lack of willpower even many years after you were married. There were some things even experience couldn’t change, and his puppy-like eagerness to please was no doubt one of them. 

Working your mouth lower to glance over his smooth cheek, you once again find his mouth and you coaxingly kiss him to encourage his efforts. Just as you’d expected, he does a sufficient job of keeping you warm like this, two bodies moving in near perfect unison with each other to reach the finish line. You hardly even notice the now distant chill as you rake your hands through his enviably soft hair and clutch him more firmly against you. 

A ragged, tortured sound slips out of him when Gepard eventually pulls back just enough to gasp into the scant space and you take advantage of that opportunity to nip at his bottom lip. He made you so hungry, so deeply irrational with want that you momentarily forget where you are. And you think the same goes for him because he presses his weight more firmly into you, all but flattening you against that smooth bricked wall as his hands travel lower to take greedy, grasping handfuls of your hips. 

If the chance of discovery were not so great you would have liked to simply reach down and guide him into your waiting cunt, consequences be damned, but you have to make do with simply pressing back on the rigid length digging into you to get your fill. You just become more wild with it as the seconds tick by, enthusiastically writhing in his arms until you can feel the gusset of your panties starting to soak through with slick. He really was driving you mad. 

“Keep going, Gepard.” You whisper to him, breath hitching in your chest to make your lungs stutter. “I’m getting close. Don’t stop.” 

“I am too.” He hisses back. 

It’s not hard to see he’s struggling against the exact same urges you are, his jaw tight with the clench of his teeth, but he admirably maintains his noble bearing throughout. No matter how wild or desperate your squirming becomes, he just keeps steadily holding you there against him while the distant sound of an ongoing festival drifts in your general direction from a few streets over. 

You realize exactly how dangerous this is, of course, and you’re sure he does too. Yet that doesn’t deter either of you from chasing your pleasure together, and your pussy achingly throbs when the motion of his hips starts to turn stiff and uneven. The way Gepard rattles a high strung sound of pure, unfiltered bliss into the still alley nearly sends you careening right over the edge, and you blindly clutch at him when the internal pressure starts to reach its breaking point. 

But he seethes, holding back his own release until the tension in you finally snaps and you cum with a jerky spasm. The immediate rush of live wire sensation has your eyes rolling back in your head while you whimper a frazzled yet deeply satisfied noise of pleasure, shaking fitfully in his hold until the spasms recede a drawn out moment later. 

It’s only then that he nudges you up a little higher to let his twitching cock slip out from between your legs. The strength he exhibits when he jostles you around like you weighed little more than a child, reaching under you with one hand to politely gather the back of your skirt out of the way, is incredible in its own right. There weren’t many who matched him in strength, even amongst the Silvermane’s, and that was never more apparent than it is in situations like this. 

Twisting your fingers into the shoulders of his uniform, you lean in to catch his kiss-swollen lips again, and he responds with a rumbling sound of relief into your mouth. He shudders almost instantaneously, wheezing through his nose while he impotently shoots off into the air, splattering the wall and the ground with his spend. It’s such a full bodied release that you can feel his orgasm working through him where you’re pressed right up against one another and you seethe a sensitive sound at the thought of how he might feel cumming inside of you instead. 

The worst part is that even though he always seems to feel it right down to his very bones he still recovers quicker than you, and you mewl a quiet, dreamy sound when he straightens from the bent kneed slouch he’d fallen into. Turning your face to drop it against his shoulder, you allow yourself a content hum of satisfaction that he mirrors back at you with a low rumble of his own. 

“I’ll say it again,” He murmurs, pressing his mouth against your hair in a lingering kiss. “You’re going to be the death of me at this rate.” 

Smiling and giddy, you force your body to cooperate even though it really doesn’t want to, sluggishly leaning back to look at him. “I’ll make it up to you later, Captain. Promise. But for now, would you like to go enjoy the festivities with me?” 

He pins you with a boyishly earnest smile, his lovely eyes dancing with delight. “Of course I’d love to. Nothing would make me happier, sweetheart.”

⭐

Cross posted: here

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  when broken is easily fixed

SUMMARY : priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes.

PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader (implied Latina)

CHARACTERS : tish (mentioned)

WARNINGS/TAGS : jealousy, breakups, fluff, tiny angst, innuendos, obliviousness x2

WORD COUNT : 2.7k

A/N : SURPRISE YALL, I’m back, heheheh. title from silverstein’s song. this fills the square “I’m having what you’d call a rough day” on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, this was nice to jump back into writing. I secretly like teaching y’all physics. 

You remember the day Priestly showed up at the market in a disappointingly normal state. 

No piercings, no colourful hair, no beard, no eyeliner. Just plain old California clothes, nearly looking Christian with his neat hair, and composed manners.

The only things that reassured you that Priestly was still Priestly after all, were the tattoos that peeked from outside the collar of a white dress shirt and the tiny holes in his skin where his piercings once belonged.

It was confusing at first, but he looked happy. Brighter.

You thought his parents were in town. Or that he became religious after all. Or that he joined a cult. 

You teased him at first. He’d just give you this dreamy look and never said anything to ease your curiosity about his current state. He’d be out the door in a hurry, with a tiny bit of that Priestly swagger that told you he was definitely not brainwashed by a cult.

But the reason for the sudden change in him soon became clear. 

One day, he walked into the store to buy groceries and other necessities with Tish. Hand in hand, the two of them. All giggles and shoves and smiles. The honeymoon phase. She’d kiss him on his cheeks, take his chin in her hand and press herself against him in an unnecessary manner to tell him something, and he’d look stupid, like he couldn’t believe she was there giving him affection. 

Your stomach dropped at the sight of them. 

You’d never felt the way you did before. 

Yeah, there was a cringey-ness and aversion you always had  for PDA and romance that you’d noticed in yourself for years, but it never bothered you like it did now. From watching Priestly and Tish be a couple.

But it also didn’t take you long to realise why it bothered you so much more. Why it was so much harder to ignore than if it were any other couple doing it. Why you felt rejected became clear.

You had feelings for Priestly.

What a dumb way to find that out. 

Excuse the fuck out of yourself if you were too focused on your university courses and your job and your future and your personal life… to realise that you really actually liked him. Romantically.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself and pretend that you didn’t care at all when you were alone. You weren’t  going to lie to yourself about the sting you felt. Or push away the feelings of jealousy and push down how upset you were and the other, million emotions you felt as you watched them go about their lives as a couple for months. 

You never wanted to quit more badly than you did then, just to avoid having to see them get closer, clingier, more affectionate, serious. But it was the only way you could afford living in your dorm, to have enough to pay your classes, and afford your supplies and books... 

You sucked it up and pretended that nothing was wrong. Like you didn’t even care about him. Like you never did. 

It never really got easier, the only thing that became easy was pretending. 

You blamed yourself for waiting too long. That’s what haunted you. If you’d just been braver. If you’d been more honest with yourself and him. If you’d had the courage to say what you felt. If… if…

It was torture.

The high California-in-the-summertime temperatures made you think that you were in Hell, but time passed and you accepted that your chance with him had passed. You told yourself to move on and be happy. For the most part, as long as you ignored them, it was easy to be happy again, to live your life and do whatever your wildest friend was doing to enjoy her summer. 

But that happiness you’d seen in Priestly was gone by the time the fall semester came around. It took six long, horrible months for that happiness in him to fade away. 

It didn’t last. Just like the spring and the summer.

Until one day you didn’t see her with him. And the next day he was alone again. And the next week; alone. And the week after that, too. 

No Tish. 

Just mopey, wet-eyed Priestley. 

His stubble grew, his eyeliner returned—slightly smeared from tears. 

No more Banana Republic, Tommy Hillfigure, or Calvin Klein. Just those ridiculous shirts that always made you smile.

He entered the store today again after a week. 

The shop's bell rang and you looked up out of habit, and watched him with his gorgeous green eyes cast downward to the slightly dusty floor you were trying to sweep. God, you’d guess it was more of a depressing, someone’s-dead type of chime than a merry one—from the state of him.

His hair was a mess and slightly longer, it was not brushed or styled neatly. Like he woke up from a nap after breakfast and decided to go to the store because he remembered something he forgot before his nap. 

You felt bad… at first. 

His cheeks were pink and his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy from tears. He had darkened bags under his eyes. But as he moped around and you avoided being noticed by him out of awkwardness, you caught a glimpse of his shirt, which amused you: Hang in there, it gets worse, with a little thumbs up, too. 

He came completely in black, too. 

It was unavoidably funny. But you stifled your snort as you continued to sweep quietly, until eventually, you got lost in thought again. Your head filled with your to-do list before entering your final semester. 

But you eventually found yourself in the same aisle as him. You swept the trash up into the dustpan as you watched him try to hold bread, bananas, napkins, and toilet paper in one arm while trying to take out a gallon of milk from the fridge.

You saw what would happen from a mile away and quickly released the broom and left the dustpan where it was to help him. Before you could actually get to him, the napkins toppled out of his hold and he mistakenly released the milk to grab it which caused the gallon to burst open when it fell to the floor like a ripe melon in the sun. 

You gasped when the milk splattered on you, but you didn’t actually mind at all. Priestly, on the other hand, sighed heavily again, completely giving up. 

He finally looked at you when you reached for the napkins he dropped and you smiled warily at him, hoping it appeared more reassuring than pitiful. You handed him the napkins and he murmured an apology, taking them from you. 

“They say when you drop your food, it's because someone craved it,” you tried to make light of the situation but he didn’t even notice. He gently placed everything down on top of the shelf behind him with a deep sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” he frowned at the large white puddle, “I’m having what you’d call a rough day.” You huffed a soft laugh which made him raise a brow at you. 

“Day? You’ve been mopey and pathetic for weeks,” you teased playfully, but he remained quiet. You figured you’d offended him or hurt his feelings because he sniffled and looked down at his hands. 

Your face softened.

“I’ll pay for that.” He pointed to the spilt milk and broken gallon.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “Let me clean this up. I’ll help you when I finish.” You turned around to pick up some napkins you kept behind the counter and he made a sound of protest. 

He followed you, you heard him walking behind you quickly. “I made this mess. I should clean it. Besides, it’s almost your lunch break,” he tried to stop you. You laughed softly and shook your head as you laid yourself over the counter to grab the napkins from underneath the counter, your feet dangled embarrassingly above the floor.

“Hey, it’s no trouble,” you dismissed, smiling triumphantly to yourself when you got up with the napkins. “Go be a customer and bring your stuff… take two trips this time. There’s no one else here.” You snatched the napkins away from him when he tried to take them from you. 

He smiled a little. 

It made you smile more earnestly. 

“Okay… Fine…” he gave in hesitantly and followed you as you walked towards the mess he made. He picked up the stuff he left on the shelf and watched you squat down and lay some napkins over the puddle. The paper soaked the milk up and he slowly walked to the counter then returned as you finished up. 

He stood there awkwardly at first. Still just watching you clean up and then you got up and smiled at him sweetly. He smiled back at you gently and your heart sped up the way it always did when he looked at you. Your stomach clenched happily, but you frowned and quickly stepped away from him to throw the wet paper towels away along with the gallon that had contained the milk. 

“I’m really sorry,” he apologised again when you returned. 

“Priestly, it’s fine, accidents happen,” you chuckled to convince him and eyed the new gallon of milk. “You ready?” You wiped your hands on your jeans despite still feeling icky. 

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, then looked around at the unusually empty store. “You want me to finish sweeping for you? Or maybe… Do you wanna wash your hands? You look uncomfortable. I can wait,” he rambled.

You laughed at him, this was all too much for you so “early” in the morning. He instantly shut up and became flustered. His free hand flew up to the back of his neck and he laughed awkwardly. 

“Well, if it matters so much to you, put the Closed sign on while I throw the stuff in the dustpan away and wash my hands. I’ll meet you at the counter in five.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically. 

You rolled your eyes at the name, but walked away wordlessly to finish up. You actually were pretty hungry.

When you returned, Preistly had his hands in his trouser’s pockets, he was chewing on his lip, and his cheeks were red from embarrassment. 

“What’s that thing you said earlier about dropping food?” He asked, trying to alleviate the thick tension that hung in the air around the two of you. You smiled as you scanned the items he needed. 

“Oh, nothing,” you shrugged, “just a saying.” 

He was quiet for a moment and then you looked up at him. He was already looking at you and your face instantly started to get warm again. You looked away as casually as you could to finish scanning the remaining items and neatly placing them inside a plastic bag. 

“It was funny.”

“Ha, I guess…” you shrugged awkwardly and told him the price of his groceries. 

“Right…” he took out random, balled up dollar bills from his back pocket despite having a wallet with enough space. You smiled curiously and took the money from him. 

God, hurry and leave, you prayed internally as you placed his money in the cash register and took out his change. You dropped three quarters and a nickel into his hand when you began hearing the soft sound of rain hitting the windows and the concrete outside, and the delightful aroma of petrichor sneaking through the vents into the store.

“Fuck,” Priestly muttered, his fingertips grazed your palm and your body lit up like the second the temperature of the universe hit one billion Kelvin after the Big Bang, finally allowing neutrons and protons to form atomic nuclei as they hit and stuck to each other. “The worst day ever.”

You snapped out of your daze, disappointed, but not surprised at his obliviousness. 

“I could give you a ride,” you offered with a shrug, taking your bag from inside the bottom drawer as he took his bag of groceries.

“I keep wasting your time…” he trailed off, but he did not decline your offer. 

“That’s fine. Where do you live?” You made your way around the counter and walked past him to stand at the door and watch the rain slowly come heavier.

“You’re a stranger,” he joked, and you turned to roll your eyes at him. “What? You could secretly be a Mankiller.” You opened the door with a sarcastic laugh and squirmed as rain hit your face.

“Please, look at me,” you scoffed playfully, locking the door to the store once Priestly stepped outside with you. 

“I am,” he said gently. 

You looked up at him with your brows knitted in confusion. “Whatever. My car’s over here,” you brushed him off and quickly led him to your car.

You both sighed once you were safely inside the freshly cleaned car. He laughed to himself as he looked around inquisitively, but you didn't question him. You turned your car on instead to pull out of the driveway and asked him again where he lived as a Britney Spears song played on the radio. This time he finally answered your question seriously.

The conversation was light and you kept asking him about the sandwich shop he worked at and about his friends to avoid talking about yourself or his break up. It was basically small talk, bleh. The conversation was superficial because you didn’t want to get close to him, not now, not when he was freshly broken up and still clearly hurting. 

He ran his hand through his hair once you parked outside his house, somehow he managed to make it look tame. He looked at the time and you waited patiently for him to get out so you could leg it and cry to your friend over the phone about how you were so not over him. 

“Stay,” he proposed suddenly when he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I can make you a sandwich, I’m really good at that.” You shook your head at first and racked your brain for some excuse to get away. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it for you, I’ve even got some soda in the fridge. Please, I feel really bad.” You chuckled softly at him and the pleading eyes he gave you. They looked much wider and greener. 

“Fine,” you gave in, “I’m really hungry, so… I guess I could stay for a bit.” He lit up slightly and started to get out of the car before you managed to turn it off. But you caught up with him as he kicked the welcome mat to the side to retrieve his house’s key. 

“You want a sub?” He asked, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a joke out of that and nodded as you entered his messy house. Oh well, he’s been going through a breakup. 

“Oh, God, I forgot it’s a mess,” he apologised when he looked at the star of everything around him. “Close your eyes, pretend you don’t see it,” he pleaded jokingly. 

“As long as I don’t step in something squishy, we’re all good,” you reassured him with a small laugh. You followed him to the kitchen and figured he must be going through the not-eating breakup rather than the eating-my-feelings breakup.

“How big do you want it?” He asked you, setting the bag down on the counter and going to wash his hands.

“How much do you think I can take?” You asked before you could actually filter it out of your mind. He quickly looked at you, amused and intrigued while he dried his hands with a clean towel from inside his cabinet. “Kidding, how big is it?” He laughed loudly at your question which made you get more flustered, but he still gave you a measurement with his hands. “Half of that,” you tried to ignore his face and sat down before your knees gave out from embarrassment. 

“If you can only take half of that, I don’t think you could handle me.” 

Your mouth fell open. You were sure you stopped breathing for a few moments when your heart stuttered and your stomach lurched at the thought.  

This time, you blinked at him in surprise, but your eyes stayed wide, and you felt yourself turn hotter before you both bursted out laughing. 

@spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @lanassmarty @candy-coated-misery0731 @jessllianaquilesrolonworld @murdockscumsock @the-achievementhunter @lyarr24 @rominaszh @zepskies @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @k-slla @mrlonelycat @taylortotsworld @ohnosy @angelbabyyy99 @impala1967rollingthroughtown @iwishiwasntreal @pasteldecrack @blackcherrywhiskey @dayhsdreaming @xshortputax @imsapphine @il0vebeingdelulu @gravesphillip @illicithallways @saturnsooya

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[enteisabo]

hmmm....

Ace/Sanji "Need a hand?"

or

Buggy/Alvida "Stop clowning around!"

ACESAN NATION LET'S GOOOOOO this turned out very flirty but very tame LMAO.... thank you quin, this was very fun to throw at the text box. no editing no betaing i'm just GOIN give me a character/ship and a word/line of dialogue!!!

He wasn't intending to stay around for long, but Ace could never ditch the promise of free food and drink, nor could he pass up the opportunity to do his due diligence as an older brother to check out Luffy's crew. Of course, bullheaded and selfish as the kid is, he's surrounded himself with loyal and wonderful people; Ace doesn't need to be worried, and he wasn't--not really, anyway. Luffy's instincts are sharper than any other part of his mind. He's an honest and instant judge of character, and if he didn't trust these people with his life, they wouldn't last a day under his leadership.

Luffy's always looked for companionship and made families out of everyone around him. Seeing these people give him hell and have his back in equal turn has let Ace know that this loyalty is true. It's how his own new family act with one another, after all.

But that doesn't mean he isn't still curious about them. So it's for curiosity's sake that he's still here, still analyzing the crew. Luffy laughs the most with Chopper and Usopp, and listens the most to Nami and Zoro. The entire crew seems extremely protective of Vivi, but he can't really blame them, can he? He's seen what Alabasta is dealing with.

But that leaves this Sanji character. He picks fights with Zoro every time he opens his mouth near him, he worships the girls--there's nothing quiet about the way he presents himself. He's easy to read, or at least... it's easy to see what he wants Ace (and everyone around them) to read.

After their meal, Ace is left alone with the blond in the galley, sitting at the table with what remains of the mess, and he fills several seconds with a steady gaze and wandering thoughts at Sanji's back as he bustles around to clean up. Sanji is clearly one of their strongest, but the way his body is built is different from Zoro and Luffy. He's strong, sure, but it's leaner muscle, meant for speed and dexterity. Between that, the baby blues, the clothes, and the hair, well...

Ace wonders, a little, if this is similar to how Sabo would have looked. The thought brings a thin smile to his lips, and he rests his chin in his hand, eyes zeroing in on the back of Sanji's head.

"Need a hand?"

Ace is no stranger to doing dishes. He's also no stranger, these days, to being polite. After all, the etiquette he focused on learning has been forefront in the way he interacts with people he wants to like him.

But... Sanji reacts in a way he isn't quite expecting. He freezes up, is actually startled by the offer, it seems.

"Oh--no, no, you're a guest with us. You don't need to help out." And that smile is in a color that Ace recognizes. It's genuine, a crack in the persona, and gods is it sweet. A lance straight through the heart for Ace, and he knows immediately that this guy's not used to people extending that brand of kindness.

He certainly doesn't think Luffy's ever offered to wash a dish.

So that smile widens a bit, and Ace gets up to his feet, wandering up behind Sanji and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No point in eating all your food if I'm not gonna pay back the favor, right?"

But Sanji just shakes his head, even though he gives in and hands him a stack of plates.

"Feeding the hungry isn't a favor, it's just what you're supposed to do."

Ace remembers how it was as a kid with Dadan. You hunt or you don't eat. Sure, it built character, and Ace never really did go hungry, but it was never something that he didn't have to earn.

The dishes land in the side of the sink already half-filled, and Ace starts up the water to fill the opposite basin, rolling his shoulders a bit before he starts in on the washing.

"If feeding the hungry is your purpose, it's no wonder you're with Luffy. He's a bottomless pit." He shouldn't sound so proud of that, like it's something he nurture on purpose, but Sanji sees the glow in Ace's demeanor, apparently, because it gets a quiet laugh out of him as he joins him to start the drying.

"You don't seem to have any room to talk. Runs in the family, huh?"

"You have no idea," Ace laughs, the grin fixing itself into place as he remembers how much the three of them would devour. A whole camp of bandits, and half the food went to three snot-nosed brats. "But with your food," he adds with a pointed look, "it's no wonder he's always asking for more."

Now, Sanji doesn't necessarily seem like the modest type, but Ace catches the hint of blush on his cheeks as he scoffs, trying to brush off the compliment like he's never received praise in his life.

"Of course he is. He's going to be King of the Pirates, so I'll make sure he eats everything he needs to get there." Sanji's tone is full of honest conviction, but Ace doesn't miss the deflection.

"You know I'm complimenting you now, right?" Ace teases, elbowing Sanji slightly and watching his ears go red. It's funny; he never seemed interested in any attention but the girls', but Ace had a feeling this wouldn't go over badly. So much so that he lets his hand brush Sanji's as he passes him a utensil, and tilts his head to catch his gaze--all nervousness and flustered charm from the cook, but met with calm and collected ease from Ace.

"You're an incredible cook and a strong fighter, Sanji. My brother's lucky to have you. So..." He leans in a little closer, and swears he can see the moisture evaporate out of Sanji's mouth and throat. And hell, Ace is known for his heat, so he might as well lean into it. He glances from his eyes down to his mouth, and back up, eyelids falling just a bit.

"... don't let him take you for granted."

Sanji doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. He's frozen, with as much in the mix of fear as there is confusion, attraction, embarrassment; Ace has just done something incredibly complicated for him, and he can see that. And it's that twinge of fear that has him reaching up and patting his shoulder before he pulls away from the situation, wandering toward the door. If Sanji has hangups, he's not gonna push them.

"Thanks for the food. And for letting me give you a hand. Let me know if you want another, yeah?"

He's pretty sure he hears Sanji choke when he steps out of the room.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Prompts 7-11 with Spot

As much as I love the body swap trope I know that's not everyones cup of tea (and also i feel lazy with keeping the cause vague SOBS)

Speed running the first group of tropes for spot LMAO

UNREQUITED LOVE

He couldnt face you now that hes.. become this.. thing. Hes not even sure hes still allowed to call himself human. The fact that he had been shunned by just about everyone only reinforces that he keep his feelings for you to himself. Its unfair, it's terrible. He wants nothing more than to be by your side and continue on the life the two of you had together before the collider incident. He stays up most nights wondering if you'd welcome him into your life if he let himself in.. hes considered inviting himself into your home on at least one occasion. He sticks to the background watching you live out your life in peace without him

MUTUAL PINING

Except you werent living your life in peace, as far as you knew the man you had harbored feelings for died in the explosion that night. You've heard whispers that he was still alive, just no longer.. someone you'd recognize. You never tried to see if the rumors were true, too scared to get your hopes up only for them to be shattered. You used to work together, coworkers. You beat yourself up for not telling him how you felt before everything. Unbeknownst to you, Ohnn would feel the same as he kept tabs on you, never quite finding the right time to reveal himself to you. He loved you more than anything but you're the last person in his life who still loves him.. even if hes unaware. Youre his only friend who hasnt turned their back on him, simply because he never gave you the chance to do so

DRUNKEN CONFESSION

His crush on you was no secret, by the way. If it wasnt obvious that he had the hots for you, he had confessed it to one of his friends when the pair went out to get drinks to celebrate the success of the collider. He had gone out with a group of people actually, and you were there. At least for some point and perhaps out of ear shot as he rambled on about how much the poor man yearned for you. He seems like the type to cry when drunk, hes probably getting his tears all over the counter and he has to be sent home before he can try to make any moves on you

SHARING CLOTHES

Sometimes he likes to steal your clothing. Sure he doesnt need clothes but wearing them makes him feel a little bit more normal. Usually he takes jackets and hats, but if you go behind his back and get clothes that are more his style and size hes going to be over the moon.. whether it be brand new clothes or thrifted, hes going to stop walking around the house nude/hj

He totally doesnt keep stealing your clothes because you smell nice...

DOMESTIC

Spot isnt the neatest person, living in a sort of chaotic state although at least his messes usually have a system. So unless you already live like that you better be ready for your home to get a little less tidy. Not to worry because it's never going to get gross.. hes never going to leave food out or anything like that. A bit of a stickler when it comes to your end of the chores being done, you're allowed to return the same energy when he doesnt keep up with his share.. he can be a bit of a hypocrite sometimes..

[goosewriting]

Hi I just wanted to tell you that I really enjoy your writing. What if the turtles got cloaking broches and wanted to show their partner, and the partner was like “yeah you’re pretty as a human but I miss your markings/stripes etc.”?

Cloaking broach (rottmnt x reader)

summary: reader and turtle’s reaction to seeing him in human form for the first time.

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie x GN reader (separate) 

warnings: simping ✊😔, innuendos? sort of? nothing spicy or anything but idk it’s a different tone than my usual stuff XD, i guess it still counts as fluffy ending tho

word count: 1.9k

A/N: ty for the kind words anon! i have to say i went kinda hard on the simp reader here but can you blame me? this ended up being 100% self-indulgent lmao check the human designs i used for this one under the cut and you’ll understand 🫡 still, i hope it’s to your liking ;;w;;

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

for this one i wanted to give you guys a visual lol for the human!turtles: i’ll be using these designs by @redbeanp13 (source), who was kind enough to let me use them :D the drawing below is by @soldrawss (source) whose art you should really check out because it’s top tier 😤👌

with that settled, let's get to it~

— — —

The turtle made his way to your apartment, moving swiftly between the buildings, unable to hold in his excitement. He had borrowed a cloaking broach from Sunita, and he wanted you to be there when he transformed for the first time. After all, he hoped you’d like how he looked. 

When he got to your place and explained the situation, you suddenly got nervous. You had never even thought about him as a human, and while you were certainly curious, you also felt strangely uneasy. What if he was shocked about how he looked? What if he was disappointed because it wasn’t like he expected? On the other hand… What if he looked even better? What were you supposed to do with that knowledge after he turned back to his turtle self?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, focusing instead on the almost child-like glee your boyfriend had, waiting for you to join him in front of your full-length mirror.

Giving him a nod, he was just about to place the broach on his strap when you spoke, suddenly remembering a very important aspect of the transformation.

“Wait!” you stopped him, holding up your hands, and he looked at you slightly irritated but waited for you to continue, as he saw how flushed your face looked all of a sudden. “How does the whole clothes aspect work? Will you have those or will you transform, like… naked?”

“Why, would you like to see that?” he teased you.

You didn’t nod nor shake your head, instead only bringing up your hands to cover your face.

“I’m just kidding” he laughed and placed a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, giving it a bit of a squeeze. “The broach gives you the clothes you imagine, so no worries.”

“Right…” you replied sheepishly, uncovering your face. “Let’s see it then.”

And with that the turtle placed the broach on the strap around his torso, and got engulfed in a greenish smoke.

🔵 Leo

When he emerged, he was smug about it.

You blinked a couple of times, trying to process what you saw.

There were a lot of feelings happening. 

Meanwhile he quite literally checked himself out in the mirror.

He had no shame about it. 

You ran your hands through his hair, and the new sensation startled him, but he didn't pull back.

It felt kinda nice actually.

You traced over his face; his stripes had translated into scars and birthmarks of sorts.

As you were admiring his facial features, Leo suddenly pulled you closer by the waist, leaning in, and stopped just before your lips touched, quietly asking if he could kiss you. You replied by closing the distance.

The kiss felt different and yet the same, as it still was Leo in front of you. Again, your hands came up to run through his hair, lightly tugging at the base of the neck, which made him softly groan into the kiss. At the unexpected sound you pulled back and looked at him with big eyes and heated cheeks.

“I could get used to that” he said with his signature grin, and quickly pecked your nose. 

“So, you like it?” Leo asked, placing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, so you stood next to each other, facing the mirror.

“I mean… yes? You do still look very handsome” you replied, and trailed off, biting your bottom lip, as if hesitating to continue. He gave you a soft smile through the mirror.

“But?”

“I don’t know, it’s like there’s something missing? Your half-moon markings that bring out your eyes, the stripes that seem to glow in the light, your whole ninja-ness. This feels like more of a costume than anything else… I like you in green; it feels realer.”

His gaze suddenly softened, looking vulnerable for a split second. That was not the reply he was expecting, but maybe deep inside the one he was hoping for. 

“I do like the hair though” you said to go back to your banter. “And it looks like you finally can get a good posture without the shell.”

“Hey!” Leo gasped in mock offence, and you stuck out your tongue at him. “Turtle or not, I can still totally kick your butt!”

You had no time for a clever remark, as he was already playfully tackling you to the ground, with you squealing and trying to get out of his grasp to evade his relentless tickling.

🔴 Raph

He was still tall, almost as tall as his turtle form. 

Just not as big.

Which was kinda weird to see.

As if there was a part of him missing in the space before you.

You hugged him and could almost reach around his back, which was impossible in his turtle form.

Also he was warm for once, which was nice.

As you were hugging him, his arms also wrapped around your form.

That’s when you noticed.

He was so soft.

“So, what do you think?” he asked at your reflection in the mirror.

You pulled back from the hug and just stared at his chest for a second. His chest was usually rather hard because of the plaster, even though it was quite flexible for him to move in. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder.

Without saying anything you gingerly placed your hands on his chest, making him slightly flinch, a violent blush spreading on his face and neck.

“This is gonna sound so weird” you said, unable to look him in the eye. “But can I… feel you?”

“Ah- Uhm- Sure.” Raph went a little stiff, unsure of what you were about to do.

Your hands traced his chest, which was still rather firm; you assumed his muscles still were present in this form. Then your fingers slowly wandered down to his tummy, which was softer, and to the sides, where you softly pinched his hip, making him squeak in surprise. You took a deep breath to recover from the sheer adorableness of his reaction, and made a mental note of doing it again in the future if you had the chance.

“So… You like it?” he asked after you seemed satisfied with your exploring.

“To be honest? Yes and no” you replied, going back to hugging him and talking to his reflection with your cheek smushed against his chest. 

“I like that I can hug you like this and almost reach around you without the spikes. I like how warm and soft you feel” you explained and he smiled. “But I also really like green and spiky Raph, who is so very gentle with me and makes me feel safe.”

Raph’s arms tightened around you, giving you a kiss on the top of your head.

“Maybe we can borrow the broach in winter for cuddles?” he suggested, slightly swaying you from side to side. Now that was a compromise you could get behind. 

🟠 Mikey

The only way to describe how he looked was adorable.

Since he was more petite and lighter, you figured you could give him a piggyback ride for once.

You also loved that he went with a colourful outfit and lots of accessories.

It suited him very well.

And you couldn’t get over his freckles, they were too cute!

For a while, you both just stood there curiously looking at all the details in the mirror. 

Then Mikey took your hand in his.

“Whoa, so this is what it’s like to have 5 fingers!” he exclaimed, intertwining your fingers with his. You had to admit, it felt pretty nice. 

While he admired his digits alongside yours, with your other hand you ruffled his hair, to which he snorted.

“That feels so weird” he laughed.

“But I bet I know what will feel nice!” you said, letting go of his hand and bringing both of yours up to softly massage his scalp. 

“Oh, oh wow” Mikey basically melted away as you worked your fingers through his hair from the top of his head to the back of his neck, being careful not to get tangled in his locks. He just stood there in pure bliss, with his eyes closed. So when you were done, you couldn’t help yourself from giving him a quick peck on his lips.

He blinked a couple of times, coming out of his stupor.

“You think you could do that even when I don’t have hair?” he asked. You told him to remind you of doing so whenever he wanted. He thanked you and went in for a hug; that's when you realised there was one more thing you could do with his non-turtle self.

Without much of a warning, you bent down ever so slightly to reach under his thighs, and lifted him up with a ‘whoop!’. Mikey held onto your shoulders and instinctively wrapped his legs around your torso. You gave him a smug smile.

“This is new” Mikey commented, an ever so light blush adorning his cheeks, and you tightened your hold on him so he wouldn’t fall. 

“Is it nice?” you asked. If Mikey nuzzling his face into your neck was anything to go by, you’d guess that it was. 

You both knew he loved being held, especially by his brothers, so now that you could do it, he’d never want to let go. 

🟣 Donnie

The only way to describe your internal reaction: that anime gif 

You blushed heavily when you saw his human form.

He was too handsome for the world to see.

“It’s too much power, he’s too dangerous” you thought.

You tried to keep your cool, you really did.

He had somehow managed to bring out his bad boy persona perfectly, without losing the nerd touch. 

Seeing your reaction, he gave you a knowing grin through the mirror, resting his arm on your shoulder.

“So, what do we think?” he asked with a mock nonchalant tone. “I’d love to hear your current thought process in depth.”

“Shut up” you muttered under your breath, shoving his arm off so you could face him. You looked at him for a second, then reached up to cup his face in your hands. Now it was his turn to blush, and you gave him a smirk of your own as you realised something. You didn’t wanna ruin the moment, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Look at you, a real boy with real eyebrows!” you cood. Donnie scoffed.

“Don’t ‘Pinocchio’ me” he retorted, but leaned into your touch. It was a somewhat unfamiliar sensation for him too, his skin being different and all.

“May I…?” you asked, gingerly stroking his cheekbone with your thumb, silently asking for permission to further touch around his face, knowing that he wasn’t a fan of that. Deciding to make today the exception, he gave you a short nod.

“How do you feel?” you asked, this time for real, as you further inspected his face and all the features he didn’t have as a turtle: nose, ears, lips, the little freckles speckled around his cheeks. 

“To be honest? Kinda like a wet noodle” he replied, earning a chuckle from you. “I feel way too exposed. Too much soft flesh… everywhere. On the outside. I don’t know how you can walk outside like this every day.” You just gave him a sympathetic smile and hummed. 

Once you were done with your inspection, you withdrew from Donnie, giving him one last once-over.

“Well, that was a fun experiment” you concluded. “But I feel like your human form lacks a certain… mad scientist factor, if you will.”

Donnie agreed and took off the broach, albeit correcting you with a “not mad, just science”. 

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @koalaray, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @lovelylovelydreams

[hollybell51]

It's ok - two

Navigation

Part one

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 7.5K

Summary: you and Adam deal with the aftermath of the pollen debacle

Content: referenced sex pollen and associated dubcon, SMUT, agan maybe a bit of perviness, Adam being down bad, reader being down bad, blowjobs, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's not technically a virgin any more but still kinda is, reader definitely isn't, bit of angst, with a happy ending, getting together, fluff, light dirty talk, praise kink, light body worship, subby Adam, again potential ooc

Notes: this is part 2 so you gotta read part 1 for it to make sense. I hope I fixed the numerous moral issues with part 1's ending lmao also before you come at me for the shower stuff; I'm so white I'm practically reflective, so I do apologise to all my textured-hair girlies for my crimes against you with that... I hope praise kink Adam who loves tits makes up for it. enjoy.

Oh yeah, this is also on my AO3

You woke slowly, swimming up against the gravity of sleep as though it were mud. Your whole body was tingling with a pleasant warmth and heaviness, underpinned by something that wasn’t quite unease, or discomfort, but close enough. A shiver ran down your spine, and you pulled the blanket closer around your neck. Hold on. Blanket? 

You shot upright, cursing as the cool air of the ship’s interior hit your bare skin. Of course. You vaguely remembered the sudden flush of heat that had overcome you, your suit constricting like it was being shrink wrapped to your skin, the incessant throbbing low in your stomach and then between your legs. Everything after that was foggy, as though you were watching a film with a hazy filter, shot through a curtain of water. But you could definitely see Adam’s concerned face close to your own, feel the echo of his hand on your back and on your forehead. And, well, everywhere else. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he’d asked, as if you hadn’t been dreaming about that for months. Hell, you’d been imagining that exact eventuality as you’d frantically gotten yourself off on the floor of the shower. 

Now, you wondered if he was ever going to look at you the same way. It had been quick, hard and rough and you felt bad now for how little thought you’d spared him. You weren’t even really thinking at all, your mind offered. He seemed ok. He came, didn’t he? You felt your cheeks heat at the memory, fuzzy as it was, of his face buried in the crook of your neck, hips jutting up against yours, strong arms wrapped around your waist and your name on his lips. It was better than anything your imagination had ever cooked up, and you were probably racking up some truly awful karma by stowing it away. 

You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and running a hand through your (mostly) dry hair, fingers catching in the mess of tangles. You were never going to skim information on anything ever again. Actually, screw that, you were never going to go outside again. At least without a full suit and helmet, oxygen tank and air filter included.

The blanket trailed behind you like a grotesque bridal train as you headed for the bridge, bare feet slapping faintly on the cool floors. It had felt nice earlier, but now you wished you’d kept track of your clothes. You’d left your underwear in the shower, hadn’t you? What had happened to your suit? 

The ship was eerily quiet, the bridge deserted but for a pile you didn’t remember leaving on what had been your seat – still swivelled around to face Adam’s for the sole purpose of being able to watch him read the briefing and notes as you packed. 

The pile, as it turned out, was a fresh suit and your underwear, bearing no traces of the frankly ridiculous amount of wetness that had made the walk back so uncomfortable, or shower water. Had he washed them for you? Then dried them, too? Your heart gave a pathetic little jump and twist at the thought. Adam didn’t deserve something like this. Maybe if it had been anyone else you’d have been able to live it down, laugh it off and thank them for the good times, but him? No way in hell. 

You’d felt something towards the newest citizen of Knowhere almost as soon as you’d started really talking to him. He was funny once you’d gotten him to lighten up, and had practically jumped at the opportunity to help repair the damage to the planetoid, even if he’d been the one who caused a lot of it. There was so much genuine curiosity and wonder in him, the painfully obvious desire to do well – which you supposed came from the High Evolutionary and the whole Perfect Man thing – and the fact that he seemed to hang on your every word like it was the gospel… Well, you hadn’t stood a chance. It had only gone downhill from there, and before long you’d been wondering what it would be like to see what constituted the perfect man up close and personal. What would the hands that destroyed so much of your home, and then rebuilt it beside you, feel like on your bare skin? Would your arms fit around those broad shoulders as perfectly as you imagined? Would his lips be as soft as they looked? 

You supposed you knew some of that now. You fit against him perfectly, like you were made for each other. His hands were painfully gentle, and much softer than you’d thought they’d be. You regretted that you hadn’t kissed him more, and done a better job of it. You cringed at the memory of your teeth clashing against his, not an ounce of coordination or forethought. 

He’d been better at it when he’d kissed over your chest, sucked gently at the skin of your breasts. You could see a few faint marks as you did up your suit, far too ill-defined to be called hickeys. Guiltily, you wished you’d gotten him to leave more. 

You were jerked out of that line of thought by something rustling onto the floor. A note, scrawled hastily. 

“Dear (Y/N),” crossed out, then “To (Y/N),” crossed out again, finally just “(Y/N).”

You smiled stupidly. Who knew indecisiveness could be so endearing? 

“I hope you’re ok.” 

“Yep,” you whispered in return. “All fine here.” 

“Sorry I left. I hope you’re not cold. I didn’t want to wake you up so I didn’t dry your hair.” 

God, this man. 

“I washed your clothes for you, but I incinerated the other suit. Sorry. It had pollen on it. Don’t worry, I made sure it’s all gone.” 

You sighed. “Thank you, Adam.” 

“I’ve gone out, but I’ll be back in no more than three hours.” There was time here, too, underlined and in parenthesis. He had about half an hour left. Shit, had you been out that long? Seriously?

The next line started with “I h” but the rest was so heavily crossed out you couldn’t even begin to guess what it said. It was followed by “I hope you’re ok” again, then another bout of heavy censorship before his name. You wondered how he’d originally signed it, but quickly squashed that. Nope. 

“Alright,” you said to the note. You felt a bit stupid checking your surroundings as you folded it and placed it in your pocket, but hey, it might come in handy. For reports or future references or… something. 

How was he being so goddamn nice? A heavy stone of guilt settled in your stomach, along with the distinct sense that he was doing this because he didn’t know better. He was so eager to please, to do good, that he’d probably just assumed fucking you – letting you fuck him was probably a more apt description, actually – was the natural solution to the pollen problem. And yeah, you’d heard the part about dying if you didn’t (which you thought was ridiculous, frankly, and probably said something about humans and their suitability for anywhere outside Earth) but it still didn’t sit right with you. Not even a little. 

Something beeped on the console, the light for the door flashing cheerfully. “He’s back!” it seemed to be saying. “He’s back, he’s back, he’s back!” 

“Yeah, alright,” you muttered, flicking it off. “Think of the devil.” 

“What devil?” 

You jumped. Actually genuinely jumped before you turned towards the voice. “Figure of speech.” 

“Oh,” said Adam, boots thudding dully on the floor as he crossed the space. “Did you sleep ok?” 

“Yeah. Thanks for… this.” You didn’t know what to do with your hands. Fuck, why were your hands so sweaty? And since when had he looked good good in that damn suit? It was ugly on everyone, no matter how pretty they happened to be without it. 

Oblivious to the mini meltdown in your head, as he should be, Adam pulled off his gloves and set them down on his seat with a soft thwump noise. “That’s ok. Sorry I didn’t stay, I didn’t want to disturb you, and then I figured you’d be out for a while, then I thought maybe I should just get it over with since I can…” A pause, a breath, then, “Go out there.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled, “it’s fine. I’d have done the same.” Should you mention the note? No, you decided. It was staying tucked away in your pocket forever. 

He shrugged, then held up his arms. “I didn’t get any on me, by the way.” 

Right, yeah, the pollen. The pollen that had turned you into a goddamn nymphomaniac. You supposed it was going to come up, and better to just bite the bullet, right? 

“Adam,” you started, stepping around your chair to face him. 

His eyes followed every movement, as if he was memorising the way a person walked. Up close, you could make out a faint bronze tinge to his golden face, most likely from the heat outside. You could have studied it for hours. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. It came out quieter than you’d have liked, huskier and less sure of yourself. You forged on. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything, and I just… I…” Deep breath, look him in the eyes. “Thank you. For helping me. I know it’s how the whole ‘saving people’ gig usually goes but… you did. So, uh, thanks.” 

Maybe it was trite. Maybe it was a poor choice of words, but Adam didn’t seem to think so. Very carefully, as though he were afraid of somehow hurting you, he reached out and took your hand. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch as it had been before (after all, why should it have changed?), and just like it had in the shower, his thumb moved in little circles over the back of your hand. 

“It’s alright,” he said, sincere as anyone and only just tinged with something that might have been regret’s cousin. “You didn’t have much of a choice.” 

“Yeah, I… yeah.” You couldn’t help the little huff of laughter that escaped you. You didn’t have much of a choice? Carefully, you lifted your gaze from the hypnotic movement of his thumb. It was odd how such a tiny gesture, such a light touch, could suffuse your entire being with such warmth. It wasn’t like the heat from earlier, it was gentle and soft and the fact that you clung so desperately to it probably said more about you than him, but still… “I’m glad it was you, Adam.” 

You could have sworn he stood straighter, and that the lines of his shoulders became less harsh. Maybe it was just the smile he was giving you, genuine and sweet, and wow you’d never felt so undeserving of a damn facial expression. 

He nodded. “I didn’t realise it could feel like that.” Then, at your frown, “Sex, I mean. I didn’t understand why people liked it so much, but now I think I do.” 

Oh. Oh. Right. That bit. Of course you were going to have to talk about that bit too. Looking back, you were pretty sure that you’d have thought absolutely anything was top-notch in the state you were in, and from what you remembered, the actual mechanics of it had been very one-sided. You had, if you were honest, simply fucked yourself on top of him. 

But you were not going to say that. Instead, you snorted and let your hand fall from his. “You’ve been having sex with the wrong people, then.” Not that I’m the right one, or anything. But maybe I could have been.

Adam eyed your hand, then shrugged and turned towards the panel. “I hadn’t had sex with anyone before you,” he said as he unclipped his radio and dropped it onto one of the few free spaces. 

Woah. Woah, hold on, rewind. He what? That was the first time for him? That? The guilt-stone had become a bloody guilt-boulder, and were you being dramatic or had the ship just wobbled? 

“What?” 

He turned back towards you, frowning. “I hadn’t done it before. Are you ok?” 

“Oh God.” 

“What? Is something wrong?” He was back in front of you, hands ghosting over your shoulders and arms as your mind raced. You hadn’t even considered that. Well yeah, you had, in various imagined scenarios and fantasies none of which involved the prospect of your death if you did not have sex with him. 

“Yeah, I–” You took a breath, forcing yourself to look at him. How the hell were you going to explain this? Should you? Would it just make it worse? But no, you owed him this at least. “Adam,” you said as gently as you could, “your first time should be with someone you want, because you want to do it with them. It shouldn’t be to save someone’s life, let alone someone who… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry.” 

He had a firm grip on your shoulders now, and that damned thumb was giving you the comfort treatment there, too. You wondered if he realised he was doing it. “Don’t be,” he said. “I still liked it. And I did want to do it with you. I know it was only me because there’s no one else here, but I still… I still wanted you.” He paused, then, “I just wish it had been you you.” 

Yeah, so did you. But that wasn’t what stuck with you. He’d wanted you. He’d liked it, shit as it had probably been from his end. “You…” You stopped, swallowed. “You wanted me, too?” 

He just nodded, searching your face. The tinge of bronze had deepened to copper. 

“Oh.” 

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I think about you a lot. I wondered– wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Touch you, feel you like… like that.” 

Again, all you could manage was a soft “oh,” acutely aware of his closeness, how he filled your vision, the temperature of the ship (which seemed to have risen), and his hands through your clothes. “And?” 

His breath hitched in his chest, and his voice was low when he answered. “I’d have liked to kiss you, stay with you afterwards. Tell you… Tell you that you’re important to me, and I don’t ever want to see you in pain again.” 

You drew your own breath. How could this be happening? This didn’t exist outside your mind. It really shouldn’t even exist in your mind. But you heard yourself speak all the same. “You could. Kiss me, I mean. If you still want to.”

His thumb stilled. “Are you sure?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded, moving a fraction of a step closer. “I’d like you to.” 

You did not like cliches. You did not like to be trite or banal, but you could have sworn you were living in slow motion as Adam leaned down the few inches between you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it was almost chaste. 

You tilted your face towards his before he could pull away, parting your lips ever so slightly, leaning into the warmth at your shoulders. He seemed to get the idea, his hands sliding effortlessly up your neck to cradle your face, fingers caressing your jaw and cheeks, your own hands settling on his wrists. Your heart thudded wildly, and you felt for all the world like a schoolgirl playing truth or dare at a sleepover, a teenager spinning the bottle with the boy you liked sitting across from you, a Guardian of the goddamn Galaxy being touched so gently by the guy you’d ridden six ways into next week not three hours ago. 

You pulled back first, but barely. “I didn’t do a very good job of this before, did I?”

“It wasn’t too bad. Not what I expected.” You could feel the words on your skin, your face so close to his that his features were slightly blurred. His breath was warm against your lips. 

“Mm,” you sighed, “that’s not usually how it goes.” 

“Oh. Ok then.” He dipped back down momentarily, pulling away just as fast. “I like this a lot better.” 

“Me too,” you smiled, stretching up to kiss him again. This was firmer, more direct. This time his lips were parted too, and he gave a pleased little hum when you moved against him. You let go of his wrists, mourning the loss of his hands on your face for a moment before you mimicked the position, pulling him closer to you. He was good at this, and you vaguely wondered if it was just the sex part that was new to him. His hands had settled at your waist, holding you steady and he hummed into your mouth, a sound that you could have listened to forever. 

“I wanted this for so long, Adam,” you murmured between kisses. “I thought about you too, you know.” 

“(Y/N)...” Adam paused, raising a hand to press against your forehead. 

You just smiled, pressing into his touch. “It’s all me, don’t worry.” 

He nodded, following your lead as your tongue slipped along his lip, a tiny moan caught between his mouth and yours when you slid it alongside his. He tasted like the falsely sweet nutritious bars you never seemed to run out of, warm and smooth and so soft. How could a person’s mouth be that soft? Now you really felt bad for the borderline assault you’d launched on it earlier. 

You’d ended up with your hands on his shoulders, half bracing yourself and half mapping out the contours of his upper arms, neck, collar and chest. Your fingers slid easily through his hair where it brushed his neck, dipping occasionally under the high collar. You needed to get someone onto redesigning those. 

He was holding you so close you wondered if he was trying to somehow pull you into him, his grip firm and decisive on your hips. Carefully, experimentally, you pushed your pelvis against his, a bolt of heat shooting through you at the hardness already growing there. He cursed, muffled by the fact that his tongue was in your mouth, welcome as anything he was giving you. 

“Is this–?” you started, but he cut you off. 

“Yes,” he breathed, drawing back enough to look at you. He was really flushed now, lips swollen and so, so pretty, eyes bright with want. “Yes, (Y/N).” 

“Are you sure? No lives on the line here.” 

He smiled, stroking your hip gently. “I’m sure.”

“Ok.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before taking his hand and leading him towards the bed you’d woken in, your steps sure and determined. He sat, as he had before, watching you expectantly. You considered simply shedding your clothes and letting him take the lead. Maybe you could sit on his lap and jerk him off, show him how to touch you. Maybe. 

“Can I?” you asked as you stood between his legs, fingers toying with the fastenings of his clothes.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Yes.” 

“Would you like me to?” 

Again, “yes.” 

You smiled, running your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta help me out.” 

“Mhm.” He nodded, kissing your palm before reaching up to peel off the suit, rolling the material smoothly down his arms, his chest, letting it bunch at his hips.

This was not the first time you’d seen him without a shirt. There’d been the aftermath of the face-off with the High Evolutionary, for one, and you definitely remembered stripping him before. A few moments where he or you had entered the other’s space as he’d been pulling a shirt on or a suit up, nothing more than a glimpse of midasian shoulders, the ripple of a smooth back, the hint of a belt of muscle. You’d carefully stowed every inch of gleaming gold in the deepest recesses of your mind. 

Now you could touch, too. You bent to kiss him as your fingers curled around the ball of his shoulder, revelling in the little sigh he gave when you dragged your hand down to his sternum. His heart thudded under your palm, and you swore you could feel the warm rush of his blood beneath his skin as you slid your touch sideways, your hand now splayed over his ribs. 

He whispered your name as you moved your kisses to his jaw, still soft, gradually trailing down his neck. Goosebumps prickled under your hand when your tongue brushed his skin, the sharp rush of his breath stirring your hair when you sucked ever so lightly at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Lower, over his heart, tiny bronze marks standing out against the smooth gold. You felt the skin of his stomach twitch as your fingers met the waistband of his underwear, and you paused. 

“Is this alright?” you asked, craning your neck to look at him. 

“Yes.” His eyes were closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything so beautiful. 

“This?” You slipped your hand under the material, tracing the deep v of his pelvis.

“(Y/N), please–” 

Oh wow. The too-tight, too-hot feeling was back, only this time its cause wasn’t sprinkled all over you. He was looking at you like you were an oxygen tank and he was drowning, and how could you ever have said no to that? 

“I can’t do it all by myself,” you smiled, pulling at the bunched and folded material circling his waist, “you gonna help out?” 

He assured you he was, lifting his hips and kicking his pants down to his ankles. It was then that you both realised he still had his boots on. He cursed softly, apologised, bent to unlace them before your hands on his stopped him. You knew what you were doing now, and exactly where you were going. 

“Let me?” you said as you knelt between his legs, your fingers already at work. 

“Oh,” he whispered as he watched you. “(Y/N), you don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to,” you replied simply. “I wanna take care of you, Adam. Can I?” 

“Yes.” It was a sigh, and his eyes when you met them were so full of what could only be described as awe that you wondered if he’d actually heard you. You ran your hands up his muscular thighs, wriggling closer to the edge of the bed, forcing his legs further apart. You bent, laying a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach, marvelling at the smoothness and warmth of his skin, the faint tang of sweat and something else that was distinctly Adam. 

“You took care of me,” you whispered as you pulled off his underwear. “I wanna return the favour.”

He was hard, you’d felt – and seen – that much already. What you hadn’t seen, and had failed to even consider in any detail, was that his dick would be – that any dick could be – so damn pretty. It was metallic as the rest of him, ample as you’d felt earlier, flushed copper and fuck you wanted to put it in your mouth right now. 

“Is…” He paused, breathing hard. “Is that ok?” 

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Yeah, Adam, you’re perfect. You’re just… You’re perfect.” 

He sighed again, this time with something close to relief. “Oh. Ok. That’s… That’s good. Thank you.” 

“Can I touch you?” You’d already touched him practically everywhere else, and had done a little earlier, so you didn’t expect that moan that slipped from him. 

“Yes, please,” he breathed. “Please, (Y/N), go ahead.” 

Go ahead, whispered into your neck before you’d sunk down on that dick. So of course, you spat into your hand and wrapped your fingers around him, moving your hand gently to coat the whole thing in moisture. Adam’s thigh tensed under your free hand, his breath catching in his chest. You watched his face carefully as you found a rhythm, mapping every vein and curve, the swell of the head, the wet slit which you slid your thumb over – making his hips jerk ever so slightly into your grip. 

“So beautiful,” you whispered as his hand came to rest on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect, Adam. How’d I get so lucky? What’d I ever do to deserve you?” 

Your name was little more than a sharp intake of breath, and you smiled as you continued your movements. His hand slid up to your hair, around the back of your neck, fingers dipping under the collar of your suit. “Your clothes,” he said softly. 

“Off?” You paused, relishing in the feel of his hand on you. It had been magnified thousand-fold earlier, every brush of his skin lighting you on fire. This was less severe, though not by much. 

“Mhm.” 

“Ok.” You turned your head, kissing his hand before it slipped from you as you stood. You were less graceful than Adam was in undressing, and you knew you were no stripper, but his eyes still followed every movement raptly, as though he were memorising every inch of skin you revealed. You kicked your suit aside, stepping back into place between his legs as you cast off your bra. 

Adam’s hands were quick to settle on your hips, dipping under the waistband of your underwear. “Do you want help with this, too?” 

“Yes,” you smiled as you brought your hands to his hair. You’d vaguely noticed that it was softer than you’d expected, and didn’t catch easily between your fingers, but that he’d seemed to like it when you’d pulled it a little. You could explore that more later, you supposed, too focussed on the way he slid the garment down over your thighs to pool at your feet. He hummed quietly as you continued to card through his hair, fingers stroking his scalp gently. 

You followed his movement as he ducked lower, sucking a harsh breath through your teeth when you felt him kiss your hip bone, his tongue warm and silken. He did again, his moan soft moan when your fingers involuntarily tightened in his hair stifled by your pelvis. He was copying you, you realised, giving you a belt of kisses just like you’d done to him. Except he was moving lower now, becoming sloppier, gently sucking every now and then. 

“What’re you doing?” you asked softly, frowning down at him. 

“I want to taste you,” he murmured, not raising his head. “Want to make you feel good.” 

Oh God. This man, you thought for the second time and certainly not the last. You laughed, the growing heat in your gut throbbing indignantly as you pulled him gently away. He pressed his cheek into your hand again as you let it fall from his hair, his brow pinched in confusion. 

“Next time,” you told him, “ok?” Then, “And you already made me feel good. You fucked me so good it saved my life. Now it’s my turn, hm?” 

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then the confusion cleared and he nodded, turning his head to kiss your wrist. He didn’t break eye contact as you knelt once more, rubbing your hands over his thighs again, up to his hips where you caressed the little belt of copper marks. You matched now. How cute. 

You leaned forwards, kissing the spot where his leg met his body. If you turned your head just an inch, your mouth would be on his cock. It was hot to the touch, still wet with your makeshitft lube, still flushed deep bronze, now beaded with precum at the tip. 

You looked up, meeting his eyes. “You tell me if you wanna stop, ok?” 

“Ok.” 

That was all you needed. You licked up the shaft, ignoring the twitch of his hips and the sharp gasp it conjured. He moaned – really moaned – when your lips closed over the head, then again, louder, as you relaxed your mouth and sank down on him. What didn’t fit in your mouth was taken care of by the hand that wasn’t holding his hips down, not that you’d be able to do much if he decided to face fuck you. 

“(Y/N),” he panted, “oh my– (Y/N).” 

“Good?” you mumbled, though it sounded nothing like the word. He seemed to get the idea. 

“Yes, yes it’s– you’re– Oh!” 

You’d sucked, hard, hollowing your cheeks and sliding your head down as far as you could. You drew back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock before you did again. And again, and again. 

He groaned your name as you sped up, hand moving in tandem with your mouth, hot and heavy against your tongue. His hand had found its way to your hair, not pushing or pulling, just resting on the back of your head as you practically swallowed his dick. 

You’d never had a problem giving head. Liked it, sure, if the guy was nice, but you hadn’t loved it, and had never understood people who did. Now, as Adam cursed and whispered your name, all of it liberally punctuated by stilted moans and the occasional whine or grunt, you thought you got it. The idea that it was you doing that to him, you and you alone teasing forth those heady noises and making his body twitch and jerk like that… You could happily get on your knees for him every day of the rest of your life if this was what it was like every time. 

You breathed deeply through your nose, the warm, sweet and very Adam smell of him managing somehow to overpower the ever growing mess of spit and a little sweat your hand was sliding through. Maybe with anyone else it would have been gross, but here it only forced your own soft moan before trickling to join the wetness growing between your legs. Earlier, as your mind had cleared, right as Adam had been lifting you off his lap, you’d decided that you never wanted to be aroused ever again. You were very happy that wish hadn’t come true as you squeezed your thighs together, eager for any friction you could get. 

You could taste the saltiness of his precum at the back of your throat, feel the throb of his cock on your tongue as you relaxed even further, taking him deeper than you’d tried before. You prayed you weren’t about to make yourself throw up on him. 

“(Y/N),” he choked, thumb rubbing tiny circles where it rested in your hair. That was going to be a bitch to untangle. 

“Hm?” 

“You’re so–” He broke off as you sucked hard, the muscles of his thighs and stomach tensing. “Ah, you’re so beautiful. So soft, you’re so… Oh, (Y/N)--” 

You’d sped up at the praise, fuelled by the tiny, restrained thrusts into your mouth and the tightening of his hand in your hair. He was close, you could feel it, and you wanted nothing more than to make him cum in your mouth.

“So much,” he groaned. “It’s so… so much, I–” 

You squeezed gently at his thigh, a silent reassurance. He’d cum before – in you, no less – but maybe you should have started with something that you could talk to him through. You could have used your hand and told him that it was ok, that he was doing well, while you kissed him and he made all those beautiful noises against your lips. Hell, you could have gone straight to the ninth yard and let him fill you up again, given him control. 

Too late now, you supposed. His cock twitched, hips stuttering, whole body tensing. You squeezed his thigh again, I’ve got you, it’s alright, as he groaned deeply. His chest heaved, head tipped back as he came down your throat, hot and thick and salty. You didn’t stop your movements, hand and mouth working him through his high until there was no more. You pulled back and, after a moment’s hesitation, gently licked away the mess of your own spit coating him. 

You sat back on your heels, hand still resting on his shaking leg, and took him in. He shone with more than his usual iridescence, a sheen of sweat clinging to his torso, some pieces of hair sticking to his forehead, face and neck flushed so prettily, breath still coming hard and fast. You’d done that. You’d made him look like that. You were responsible for the pure, raw pleasure painted in every line of his being. 

“That was…” He broke off, swallowing hard before opening his eyes. He blinked, looked down at you on the floor, smiled. “That was incredible.” 

You smiled back, taking his hands in both your own. “You taste fucking divine,” you whispered as you kissed his knuckles. “And you did so well.” 

You couldn’t tell past the orgasm-glow, but you thought he might have blushed. “You’re so… so beautiful, (Y/N),” he repeated. “And so warm, and soft, I–” 

Now you were blushing, heat rolling up your neck, over your cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” you said softly as you stood, leaning down to press your lips against his. They immediately parted, tongue sliding beside your own, eager and exploratory. You shivered as his hands came to rest on your hips once more, pulling you closer as he shuffled backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. 

“Adam,” you murmured, still bent over him. 

He tried to pull you closer still, gently, but still insistent. “What?” 

You tried not to laugh at the hint of frustration in his voice. “Bed’s in the way. I can’t get any closer.” 

“Yes you can.” He broke away, frowning. “Just sit on me.” 

���Sit on you?” You glanced at his lap, back up again, raising your eyebrows. Did you hear that right? 

“Yes. Sit on me.” He pulled again, and you were struck suddenly by the realisation that he really didn’t have to ask – or tell – you to do anything. If he wanted you on top of him that badly, he could easily pick you up and place you there without breaking a sweat. Hell, he could throw you across the room if he really got the urge. But he wasn’t forcing you. Even the pressure on your hips was gentle enough that you could have pulled away any time you wanted. 

“Ok,” you smiled, steadying yourself on his shoulders as you knelt over his thighs. 

“You can relax,” he urged, his hands running down over your hips to your thighs, back up again and over your waist, around to your back. His arms circled you, head bent as he mouthed at your neck. “Don’t have to hold yourself up.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Ok.” You relaxed your legs, sinking down to rest atop his. He hadn’t stopped the attention he was giving to your neck, nosing your hair aside to kiss under your ear, along the hollow of your jaw, over your jugular, right across the tendons at the base of your throat. You tipped your head back for him, sighing in satisfaction as you ran your hand through his hair. His palms were warm where they pressed into your back, his chest and stomach smooth against your own. 

“Closer,” he whispered under your ear, pushing you further up his legs. 

You shifted, your stomach backflipping as your pelvis met his. He hummed into your skin, pressing you harder against himself, his cock hard again and hot where it lay between your bodies. His mouth had moved lower, to your breasts, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin just as gently as he’d done to your neck. 

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” you breathed, rocking your hips. 

“Hm, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You smiled at that. “You won’t, I promise. I wanna see this tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and maybe even the day after that, too.” 

You felt him nod, and then moaned because yes he was really using his mouth now. His teeth grazed your skin as he sucked a dark mark just below your collar bone, soothing it quickly with his tongue. He looked up at you momentarily for approval, and at your smile, bent again to repeat it. Yep, you were going to be seeing those for a while. 

“Adam,” you gasped as he stooped lower, leaving a trail of wet hickeys down the centre of your chest. 

“Hm?”

“I know I was kind of – oh – in control last time,” you started, biting your lip as he turned his attention to your breast. “Do you want – fuck, yes – to try being in charge?” 

“No,” he said after a pause. He looked up, hand ghosting up your side to stroke a particularly large and dark hickey. “I liked it.” 

That wasn’t what you’d been expecting. He was always so happy to go along with whatever everyone else was doing, which you supposed was another side effect of Sovereign upbringing, you’d assumed he might like to take the lead. He seemed to be having an excellent time exploring your body at his leisure. 

“Ok then,” you smiled as you ground against him. “Do you want me to do it again?” 

“Yes.” His breathing was heavy as he nodded. “Please, (Y/N).” 

“Ok.” You reached down, taking his cock in your hand. “Ready?” 

He broke away from your chest, looking up at you like you’d hung the bloody stars. His hand joined yours as he closed the distance, kissing you softly at first, then with less coordination as you lined him up and sank down, sighing against his lips. His fingers gripped your thigh, tight enough that you wondered if they were leaving marks, a deep groan echoing through the space between you. 

“Alright?” you murmured, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. 

“Alright,” he echoed. He stroked up your leg, under the back of your thigh, squeezing gently at the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you. You wondered if he was trying to get you off him for a second, then he was lowering you back onto himself and it clicked. 

“Like this?” you asked, rocking your hips over his. God, he fit so perfectly, it was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. How had you glossed over that the first time? 

“Yes, yes,” he sighed. “(Y/N), you’re– yes, like that.” 

You wondered if he knew what he was doing to you as you practically whined, steadying yourself against his shoulders just as you had before. His arm was around your waist, holding you close as you lifted and lowered your hips, your chest brushing his with every movement. 

His lips had returned to your neck, warm and soft. “Is this good?” he asked as he sucked at the as yet unmarked skin there. “For you?” 

Wow, you were ruined for anyone else. “So good, Adam,” you whispered, running your hands over his shoulders, the back of his neck. “You feel so fucking good.” 

He groaned deep in his chest, his hips jerking up into yours. And oh if that didn’t turn you on more than you already were. Just your words could have that effect on him. Eight little words and your touch, and he did that. The power was intoxicating. 

“What you do to me,” he was saying, guiding your movements. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” 

“Yeah?” You slid one hand down, trailing over his chest and stomach before finding the mess of heat and slick and sweat where your body met his. Your fingers danced over your clit, a sharp hiss of air between your teeth. 

“No idea,” he repeated, the words gliding over your skin like water. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, “fuck, Adam. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” 

You felt him smile. “Hm?” 

“You feel fucking amazing,” you hissed past the steady pleasure-ache of his cock hitting that place deep inside you, your fingers on your clit. It was building with every slap of your hips against his, hot and tight. 

“Oh, (Y/N)--” 

“Love feeling you fill me up,” you continued. “Dreamed about what it’d be like.” 

“What is it like?” 

“Like – fuck, Adam – it’s like fucking Heaven, I swear–” 

He groaned your name again, desperate and God, you were so close. 

“You look like Heaven,” you panted, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head back. You searched his face past the pleasure-haze already clouding your vision, dipping down to kiss him hard. It was as messy as the first not-quite-kiss had been, all tongue and breath and your whispered “so fucking pretty” as you licked into his mouth. 

“So are you,” he managed, hands kneading at the soft skin of your waist and hips, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. 

“Love hearing you say my name,” you went on, your fingers working harder and faster. “All those sounds you make, so perfect–” 

“(Y/N).” He said it like a prayer, like an incantation, and if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever heard, you didn’t know what was. 

“Gonna make me cum, Adam holy shit–” 

He thrust harder up into you, lips fastened to the hollow under your jaw, moving you hard and fast against himself. “Yes, do it, cum on me,” he babbled. “Let me make you feel good.” 

That did it. The bomb of pleasure inside you exploded, fizzing out though your legs as you spasmed around him, a desperate cry of his name torn from you. You held him tight, fingers twisting in his hair, half conscious of his own litany of curses and praises and your name repeated throughout as he continued to move your boneless body. He spilled hot inside you, and when you finally regained control of your mind, he was breathing hard against your chest and shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair. 

“Yes,” he nodded. His grip on you had loosened considerably, his hands roaming soothingly up and down your back. “Are you?” 

You sighed, then laughed as you drew back. His brow furrowed as you held his face between your hands. “Am I alright?” you echoed incredulously. “Adam, you are amazing.” 

The frown deepened. “So… yes?” 

“Yes.” You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. This kiss was gentle, slow and thorough, and he smiled at you when you parted. “Will you stay this time?” you asked.

“Yes.” Then, “Can I clean you up again?” 

“Yes.” You sighed as he effortlessly shifted you off himself, setting you gently on the bed. You could feel his cum leaking slowly out of you, the air cool against your sweat, his spit still on your skin, and the mess of arousal around your crotch. He wasn’t in any better shape, really, but still he moved with ease and grace towards the doorway, returning in record time with a damp cloth. 

Something inside you ached with how gentle he was. Thorough, but he drew away at the slightest hint of discomfort. He’d done this before, you supposed, when you’d been asleep. You remembered him telling you he was going to clean you up, had heard his footsteps retreating, but had dozed off before he’d returned. Still, you’d woken up relatively clean, and there’d been the blanket, too. If it had been anyone else the thought would have made you feel violated, perhaps, but not with him. With him it made your heart melt.

“Let me,” you said softly when he’d finished, taking the cloth and wiping at the mess around his crotch with a clean portion. You tossed the cloth aside when you were done, shuffling backwards, pulling him to lie with you. It took some wriggling, but eventually you settled face to face under the blanket, his arm draped over your ribs, fingers toying with the hair at the back of your head, your own hand splayed over his heart. 

“I meant it,” he said softly. “What I said before.” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re important to me.” Although the bronze had faded from his face, leaving it the shining gold you were used to, his lips were still slightly swollen, his eyes bright. In the dimness of the corner of the room, with the light behind him, he seemed to glow. 

“Oh,” you smiled, then sighed as you shifted barely an inch closer “You’re important to me too, Adam.” 

He leaned forward over the tiny gap, kissing your lips ever so gently. “Can we… do this again? When we’re back?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to.” You paused, taking your turn to kiss him. “I like being with you,” you whispered as you pulled away. 

Adam smiled. His hand flattening against your shoulder blades, he pulled you in against his chest. His skin was so warm, and you could hear his heart beating, feel his breathing. 

“I like being with you, too.” 

Note: I feel like this wasn't quite up to par with what I've written in the past, and I'm genuinely not sure why or how I can fix it. I've re-read both of these like five times now (after finishing them) and have edited them endlessly, but I just can't seem to make them feel right. Anyone else every get that? Either way, hope you guys enjoyed these x

[stepswordsen]

【Magi】 Judar and JuAli 🐈‍⬛🖤 ❤️ 💛

JuAli WIP doodles 🖤 ❤️ 💛

Quick doodles before I head back to my assignments

Been a while since I drew Judar and Alibaba together… I missed them!!! I hope to draw them more~

You can see the rest under the cut~

I wasn't sure if I should post my sketches here since they're so messy but I thought I might as well

I'll copy paste my old rambles too since I have more to add this time

2024 vs. 2022

(2024)

Comparison (2022 ~ 2023)

(2024)

Comparison (November 2022)

For the kissy one:

Wasn't sure which one I liked more tbh

1st one fits more...

Though for the 2nd one, I think Judar looks more efforted ADHSHDHSH

Since I excel at drawing meow meow mf charas

3rd one I drew in November 2022. The expressions are still cute in this one so I still like it, but my brush strokes improved a lot since then

For the hanfu Judar one:

Recent versions (+ the old one from 2022)

I've been playing around with the eyes~ I like these ones best. The eyes are bigger in the 1st one, and the others have them a bit smaller. The 1st one has a more innocent look. The 2nd has more slitted eyes and a "seductive" look?

Judar has sharp (tsurime) eyes and rings in his eyes, which are really fun to draw hehe 🤗

I'll redraw the hair soon! I just drew it quickly in like 5 minutes. It's finals season for me. I'm not fully free from this semester so I'm still quite busy, but you'll probably see small doodles from me 🙏

I'm definitely seeing art improvement (improvement in brush strokes and anatomy and proportions)

Ohtaka deliberately draws hatched lines near Judar's eyes to represent his eyeshadow 🤭 ❤️

I drew the hair quickly, so I didn't pay much attention to the shapes of the hair spikes so it's not as soft. But even with the quick doodle, the hair has better weight now. Once I get to refine things properly, I'll actually pay attention to the way his hair spikes are drawn.

I was recently rereading my old dialogue scripts from my JuAli AU and revamping them! I doodled Judar and Alibaba SO much in 2022. It's the Fire/Ice duality and Black Cat x Golden Retriever ship dynamic 🖤💛🐈‍⬛🐕

I wanna draw JuAli again soon and redraw my old doodles. JuAli is my main Magi ship so ofc I wanna draw lots of them~ I haven't gotten the time yet, but I want to draw my ships like AliHaku, SinJa, and KouMor eventually, too 🙏✨

Inspiration

Based on this black and red (Judar colours) hanfu I got~

Judar rambles

I originally drew Judar wearing hanfu in 2022! Still one of my personal fave doodles ❤️ Judar is my fave (no one is surprised, I have the most obvious predictable tastes in the world LMAO). A meow meow mf perfect for my tastes.

Judar fits perfectly into the highly specific Sen-core niche that my top faves all tend to fall under - Meow meow mf. C*nty sen-core bastard cat who's violent, threatens people, and ok with murder. Bloodthirsty. Monochrome aesthetic colour palette.

Manga Judar has red eyeliner (?) and anime Judar has purple eyeshadow? Both are good, but I like Judar with red eyeliner since black and red are his theme colours! 🖤❤️ I like how the colours pop, the contrast against his design, and how it matches his red eyes.

In my HCs, Judar wears a type of hanfu called Ruqun (襦裙). Ru (襦) is the cross-collared top of a hanfu, and the wrap-around skirt is called Qun (裙). The coat jacket is called Da Xiu Shan (大袖衫).

I want him to wear black, white, red, gold, hanfu & hanfu earrings, with red eyeliner and black painted nails 🤗

I still need to pick my headcanon hanfu earrings for Judar... I imagine they'd be gold with red accessories.

I just have to refine the eyes, redraw the hair and hanfu, and then start doing the lineart for it! I love the expression tbh

Additional rambles

I miss my sons, I wanna draw my HC designs of JuAli (with Judar wearing hanfu and Alibaba with tanner skin, wearing traditional Arabic clothes), as a fix-it for the obvious colourism going on in Magi's character designs of SWANA and South Asian inspired characters

I bought black and red hanfu back in 2023. I based my Judar hanfu doodles on it 🥺❤️ It's in Judar colours. Black red and white 🖤❤️🤍 I'm so HAPPY to get something that reminds me of my fave 🥰🤭❤️✨ I got it from the Hanfu Story~ They have such a large selection of hanfu and they're all so gorgeous~

Basically Judar themed hanfu~ I love traditional clothes, so it's my dream to collect them! Now I can use it as refs to draw him with the poses and lighting I want teehee. Hanfu & huafu look GORGEOUS to me. I also have Việt Phục like áo dài and áo tấc~

The colours are amazing!! I love black and red combo 😭💖 It's way too easy to fall into the fashion hole and collecting traditional clothes but I definitely want more in the future!

Magi: Ch. 110 - 111, Ch. 196 - 197, Ch. 239, Ch. 288

I love how Ohtaka stylizes and draws the shape of Judar's hair and braids. It's so clever how she simplifies the shapes. It just looks so good. It looks galaxy/tornado shaped… I love how the hatched lines above his eyes in Ohtaka's inking represents his eyeliner... ❤️

Judar's expressions from Ch. 110 - 111 are so unhinged… The Ch. 288 omake Judar is iconic. Fucking crazy ass LMAO 😭😂 Love you tho! 💞🫶

I'll be honest. I've thought about changing my PFP to this Judar again from the Magi omakes, like I thought of doing it as an April Fool's joke before, but I feel like no one would bat an eye cuz of how my faves are like LMFAO

Sen-core faves: Murderous, bloodthirsty, violent (or at the very least, has a disposition for violence), MAY eat people and/or their innards 🙌

JuAli core ship posts

And while you're at it, have the meme edit of them I made (1st image)

Anyways I made the 1st image's meme edit myself <33

Alibaba with tanner skin has such great visual contrast against his earrings~

I also wanna commission arts of JuAli at one point but I'd want to do it with my headcanon designs of them (Judar wearing hanfu and Alibaba with tanner skin wearing traditional Arabic clothes)

Art rambles

When I sketch, I draw out the expressions and decide which ones looks best (I either do it once or a few ~ several times) depending on whether I'm satisfied with it. I like the two most recent 2024 versions I showed~ The old ones are still nice... But I prefer the recent versions, because I think it shows how my art style and proportions improved.

These sketches are super messy right now so when I get the time I'll refine them more! It's just to make it consistent with my current style. I'm a little insecure about my sketches, so I prefer to keep most of them on priv for mutuals.

Since I'm not really a fan of the idea of my sketches/WIPs getting posted around when I'm bound to fix/refine/improve on them later when I get the chance to refine them. Though thankfully with my 2022+ lining style, my sketches look more "aesthetically nice" or "post worthy" to me...

Perhaps in the future... I do genuinely like my art style and I'm very happy with my art improvement, but I want to keep growing as an artist first. I want to reach the point where I manage to become more technically skilled and confident about my works (even my sketches)

Though since I posted the rest of the sketches under the cut, feel free to reblog them if you want!

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l chapter six sneak peek

a/n 📝 chapter six is still more of an outline than an actual written chapter lmao so this is a very short preview. I’ve also got a drabble for this series coming up but I’m taking a few days off from writing just because I’ve been having to write so much for school so ya girl needs a wee bit of a break. I should be back to posting by the end of the week! ps: excuse any kind of medical inaccuracies. I’m a future counselor, not surgeon lol.

You walked over to Joel, peeling back the bloodied cloth from his shoulder to inspect his wound. “The bullet is lodged in there, I can see it. It’s still intact, and not broken off into fragments. The good news is that will make extraction a lot easier.” You kept a calm, cool and collected demeanor, but inside you were losing your goddamn mind. Words could not even begin to explain how fucking terrifying it was to see him sitting there injured, covered in his own blood. Still, with Tommy in the room standing just feet away, you had no choice but to force yourself to keep your composure.

Ellie frowned at you. “And the bad news?”

“Well, he’s losing quite a bit of blood and he could get an infection if that bullet doesn’t come out of his shoulder sooner rather than later.” You glanced over at Tommy, asking him, “Where’s Luke?”

“He’s down the hall workin’ on Peter. Carl’s next in line, he got hit in the stomach. Luke said he had to tend to the injuries based on how bad the injury is. Said it was called triage or somethin’ like that—”

“Well, what about Donna? Or Rose?” You referred to the two nurses who worked in the infirmary. At this point, each and every last single nerve in your body were on edge; all you wanted was someone to tend to Joel.

Tommy ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I know Donna is helpin’ Luke with Peter. Rose is in the room right across the hall tryin’ to stop Carl’s bleedin’—”

Finally, you snapped, letting your emotions get the better of you as you turned to the younger Miller, a frustrated expression clear as day on your face.

“He can’t just sit here with a fucking bullet lodged in his shoulder, Tommy!”

Taken aback by the outburst, Tommy tossed you a puzzled look.

“Wait a minute.” Ellie touched your arm, garnering your attention. “Didn’t you take a bullet out of one of the horses once?”

“That’s right,” Tommy realized. “My horse Ranger, he got hit in the shoulder. She took the bullet right out and had him all patched up within an hour.”

Your eyes bounced between them in absolute and complete disbelief. “Ranger’s a horse!”

“How different could it be?” Tommy wondered out loud, raking his hand through his black curls once more.

“I-I’ve never treated a human wound before.”

Ellie’s fingers dug anxiously into your arm. “Please do it,” she whispered, her worried eyes looking up to meet yours. “You’ve got to help him. Please?”

Slowly, you turned to Joel, who hadn’t uttered one single word in the last five minutes. He continued to hold the cloth over his gunshot wound, his face having gone slightly pale from the blood loss.

“It would be kinda nice to get this fuckin’ thing out of my shoulder,” he remarked, meekly. He brought his gaze to meet yours, holding it. “I trust you.”

[velvetvexations]

It seems appealing, but until I was gifted a Steamdeck recently I couldn't play it and it's still quite expensive. Generally though I do prefer FPSs.

lmao right

1) A few people get called out for genuinely, undeniably heinous behavior, with receipts showing exactly what they're purported to show, loud and clear. Maybe they molested kids, maybe they started a cult, maybe it turned out that all their social justice talk was a smokescreen for hate recruiting, maybe they'd been catfishing for clout and profit, maybe they'd been trawling the site the callout is on for people to scam and abuse, maybe it's even more than one of the above. Whatever it is, it's unequivocally bad and SOMETHING has to be done and the systems at hand have sweet fuckall TO do about it, so a warning to the community it is! 1.5) People are primed to believe, when they see a callout post, that yes, what this person did was AWFUL. 2) People seeing that this works - and often genuinely but incorrectly believing that they have another equally bad case on their hands - start posting callouts about shit like friend drama (that wasn't a fight, it was ABUSE) or media taste (I heard he watched Dragon Maid, PEDO ALERT!!!) or consensual kinks (can you BELIEVE she misgendered another girl who asked her to??? Disgusting!). Most but not all of these target marginalized people, because of course it's easier to make a mountain of a molehill when people have a preexisting bias to believe it's a mountain (though contrary to popular current belief, it's usually not one specific group in particular). 3) People start fighting over the utility of callouts - some people believe these bits of nonevidence are TOTALLY proof of wrongdoing, others start to get alarm fatigued because surprise surprise, it's WAY harder to find people who are actually stealing and selling human bones, or lying about being HIV+ sex trafficking survivors for discourse cred, or starting entire cult houses, than it is to find...people who aren't perfect friends 100% of the time, or who like media that squicks you out; a few people still manage to fall somewhere in between. 4) Callouts fall off in frequency until someone does something SO heinous as to return us to step 1. I feel like we're kinda between steps 3 and 4 here, as a site at large - which, ironically, makes me all that much more suspicious when someone highlights a specific group as being the ONLY one targeted and harmed by fake callouts.

Eyyup.

Also, even callout posts that have legitimate grievances tend to do the Wendigoon thing where it's frontloaded with ridiculous bullshit before it gets to "also, this person murdered twelve women from 1999 to 2004." Like, why did I hear about how Vivziepop using voodoo aesthetic risked her staff being haunted to death by spirits before I heard she thinks non-binary people are faking being trans for attention?

I went into a restaurant to order some takeout while Original Mall Anon waited in the car, and when I went to get our sodas, there were these three preppy girls just...congregating there, taking up the space long after they'd finished getting their own, blocking anyone else from getting their drinks without asking them to move and, I shit you not, talking about buying shit from Hollister. Half of me, in the present, was like "okay. They're younger than me. I shouldn't be MEAN. This is a minor rudeness, I don't need to make a whole Thing of it." Half of me was violently removed from my body and de-aged to 15 because what the fuck, I was standing there, dark clothes, dyed hair, Hot Topic bag in hand, being treated like an annoying nonentity by a bunch of preppy girls who were acting like they fuckin owned the place, that was something I thought wasn't supposed to HAPPEN outside of high school and yet here I was, uh, catching up on missed experiences to a level I REALLY didn't expect to happen at a Wingstop.

God how I want some Wingstop. I love every part of this, anon. Perhaps your mall is truly unteathered from time and space.

It's completely mindless harassment without any real point and if they show up on one of your posts you should report them.

Hell yes.

Well, that's fucking stupid.

[elcheese]

Woah omg it's Demon Slayer Oc time

I actually drew her, yippee

This took like 5 fucking hours but I am so happy. Y'all ain't getting a katana reveal, I'm too lazy and couldn't be bothered to lmao.

Buuuttt, I am going to tell you stuff about her, since I won't shut up about KnY for a while.

Probably long text under the cut.

Name: Hannei Datai

Her first name, Hannei (反映) means reflection while his last name, Datai (堕胎) means abortion.

(It should be noted that I am not Japanese, barely knowledgeable about the language and this may be inaccurate. I tried my best to find if it's actually the meaning or not, so if it's wrong, I apologize.)

Current Age:

17

Birthday:

August 28th

Gender + Pronouns:

Female, but doesn't mind being referred to as a male or somewhere between. (She/Her, He/Him, They/Them)

Species:

Human.

Rank:

Hashira. To be more specific, the Mirror Hashira. They were a tsuguko for almost all of the Hashira for a short time, but he stayed with Obanai Iguro the longest.

Breathing Style: Breath of Reflection/Mirror Breathing

The name of this breathing style is pretty self explanatory. It focuses on mimicking other breathing styles and only has one form (but Hannei is currently making a 2nd form, shhh.) Hannei couldn't perfect any breathing style, only able to master one form of each. So she decided to compile them and make small changes to better fit her fighting style. Even after mastering one form, it still doesn't quite match up with the real deal. Hannei would either lack the strength, the speed, flexibility, etc.

Relationship status + Sexuality:

Single. And forever will be lol (Aroace go brr)

Weapons:

Of course, the nichirin sword. It's a baby blue color and isn't very different from any other sword.

Kunais. Hannei gets them from Tengen mostly and asks Shinobu to coat them in a thin layer of wisteria posion.

Personality:

They're closed off and often keep to themselves. She's more open with people she's comfortable with, which is the majority of the Hashira and the Ubayashiki family. He's a bit of a people pleaser, depending on who he's with, it can vary. But that doesn't mean their principles and morals change, just the way they act.

Negative aspects of them is that they have little to almost no self-preservation, being indecisive over the smallest of things, often not thinking about having or even forming an opinion of their own. She thinks she isn't needed and isn't worthy of being a Hashira, since she mostly just copies a form from each style. He takes a while to decide things on his own when it comes to small things (food, clothing, children bickering over something, etc.). They got used to just following someone else's lead and/or someone ordering them around that it's difficult to voice certain things out.

Positive aspects of them though is their neutrality, understanding, and patience. Often overshadowed by her need to please the people around her, she's actually pretty neutral about a majority of things! She found it taboo that Tanjirou was traveling with a demon, but the fact that it was his sister made her a bit sad and thought about the pain and confusion he must've had going through his head. (She only voted to kill Nezuko because everyone else did lol). Patience and understanding is her specialty, since that's what it took for her to at least master one form from each breathing style she's seen. She took the time to understand other people's point of views before forming any sort of opinion on them. That task alone could take a long time as well, hence the patience.

But fuck around too much and you'll see why he stayed with Obanai the longest lmao.

Backstory:

Hannei was the result of adultery. She only inherited her appearance from the man her mother cheated on her father with. The almost pitch black eyes unnerved them. The couple had a reputation for being the most perfect couple in the small town, so this was an issue. They never let her go out into the town during the day, but they did let her during the night. During the day, they'd desperately just try to keep them busy inside the house, ordering them around the house, teaching them how to act a certain way, etc.

Hannei was told to be quiet. To never speak. To always avoid people. So he did, being unusually quiet on his feet, sneaking from left to right while observing the remaining people that roamed the streets. One day, they saw a demon attacking someone. They did nothing. Just watched.

It was almost like a cycle, the same demon, different victim, same ending. She has tried to bring this up with her parents, only to be met with panicked shushes, telling her to be quiet while trying to hide their disdain towards her.

Until it was finally their turn, when Hannei was 14. What did they do? Sold Hannei off to the demon so save their own skins. Hannei loved them with their whole heart, yet they didn't want to return that, only seeing them as a manifestation of a mistake that they made. She wanted to hate them so badly, but she couldn't find it in her heart to do so for some reason, instead blaming the demon and it's entire kind. He tried to put up a fight, only being able to slice the demon with glass shards. It was futile.

But he was saved by the Serpent Hashira. Before he could leave, Hannei expressed that they wanted to do the same thing. Slay demons. End the suffering of many. He agreed and brought him back to the demon slayer corps. Obanai didn't train him just yet though, he let Hannei choose. Hannei started off from Water Breathing, then to Fire, Stone, all the way until they circled back to Obanai. (Hannei apologized so much to Obanai and all the others who trained him for not being able to do their styles)

It took a few years, but Hannei was finally a Hashira. She's the most recent, maybe raised to that rank after Tanjiro passed the final selection. (I am bad with time lol)

Extras:

Their favorite food is tonkatsu (I fucking love tonkatsu)

The mask they wear is meant to mock demons. She only wears it on the job.

He found out about Obanai's dislike towards women, so in an attempt to make him more comfortable, he decided to keep his appearance more androgynous.

The moment she got her 'official' uniform, she buried it somewhere and lied, saying she lost it, asking for a different design.

They really like turtles.

He tries no to keep eye contact with people for too long. He knows it's rude but has been told many times by people (ahem, the parents) that his eyes are unsettling.

She has some strong eyesight... When it comes to things farther away. Extremely farsighted.

They like making silly impressions of the other Hashiras to Nezuko whenever they're bored.

Loves staying out in the sun since he was only allowed to be out at night.

Welp, that's all. I think. I'll add more when I think of more lol.

[pray4saint]

wait wait delete that last ask i did it wrong 😭

number 7 with dreamie pls 💕💕

escapism

masterlist & descrip. pg-13. 13+. leaving a toxic ex. rebound!dream that ends up not being a rebound lmao. use of 'y/n'. irresponsible drinking. use of alcohol. lyrics are out of order. flirty dream my beloved.

escapism. by raye & 070 shake | this is apart of my 500 follower event!

sleazin' and teasin', i'm sittin' on him.

you weren't quite sure how you got here or why you were here; in a short black dress, talking up a tall dirty blond with gorgeous green eyes, downing whiskey like it was nothing. scratch that shit, of course you knew why were here.

a little context if you care to listen, i find myself in a shit position. the man that i love sat me down last night, and he told me that's it's over, dumb decison.

your boyfriend had left you, after three years, with no explanation other than ”i can't do this anymore.”

and i don't wanna feel how my heart is rippin', fact, i don't wanna feel, so i stick to sippin'.

this wasn't the first time you'd been through a bad breakup, but this one was strange, it didn't make sense, which made it hurt ten times worse that it probably would've otherwise.

”so, how bad was the breakup?” the man who sat merely one stool away from you asked, and if you weren't already a little drunk, you would've spit out your drink at the forwardness of his question. ”excuse me?” you actually weren't entirely sure you heard him right over the loud music, but it still came out a little bit accusatory. he tilted his head at you, a grin spread across the lower half of his face, and god, were his smile lines pretty. ”i asked you a question sweetheart. you're out here, alone, talking to a stranger, with an assumed no way to get back to your own place with how much you're drinking. so, i reiterate, how bad was the breakup?” you were shocked by his words, but since he seemed to see your dilemma, you were straight up with him. ”alright. we were together three years. he left, no context, no reason. just left.” you admitted, and you expected to start crying, but you didn't. you weren't that drunk yet.

i ordered two more wines, 'cause tonight i want him.

he exhaled heavily, turning to signal the bartender just one more drink for you when you'd ordered two more. ”well then, what is it that you're hoping to get out of this..?” his head tilted the other in anticipation of hearing your name roll of your tongue. you took a second, the alcohol leaving a haze over your mind. ”oh, uhm, it's y/n.” he smiled at you, more genuine than his previous grin. ”i'm dream. now what is it, y/n, that you're hoping to get out of this, hm?” he asked, and your brain let the words out without processing any of them. ”simple. a hookup. a one night stand. wild, crazy sex to get my ex off my mind.” the taller man nodded to you as you downed your last drink of the night, ”i think we can arrange something like that.”

i was looking for a man who's on the same page.

before you knew it, you were slung on clay's arm, headed for the exit.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

you woke up in a strange bed. at first, you just felt around the sheets, double checking for a body beside you that was nowhere to be found. then you sat up, looking around the room and decidedly down at your lap, just to see your legs covered by clothes that weren't yours. ”fuck.” you'd muttered under your breath and almost as if on cue, dream stumbled out from the bathroom connected into the bedroom and into the next doorway. it was as if he felt your presence how he straightened up his posture in the last doorway and turned around. ”oh you're awake! hi y/n.” he gave you that crooked smile while wiping away at his eyes before giving you a small wave, leaning his shoulder against the frame. ”did'ya sleep well?”

”yeah. slept like a baby. uhm.” your sentences were short, concise, and to the point because there were other things on your mind. ”did we–” ”no.” he cut you off rather quickly. he took a few steps closer to the bed, to you and sat down on the bed. ”if we had sweetheart, you'd remember it.” he grinned, eyes on his fingers which played with the sheets between them. then his hand halted and his gaze shifted up to your eyes that were glued on him because even now, bedhead and all, he was beautiful. ”what do you remember?” his almost search yours for answers. you bring a hand up to your face and scratch at the back of your neck in attempt not to think about how much of a mess your hair must look at the moment. ”i remember the bar, i remember leaving the bar, i remember..” you trail off before looking away for a second. ”how much did i say about my ex?” you ask, a little embarrassed at the memory of starting to bare your feelings to a stranger. it being in a bar didn't help. ”at the bar? not much. just that he left and all you wanted was a hookup.” he shrugged and you exhaled, thank god. ”and i had every intention of hooking up with you.” he continued and you could almost feel the twitch in your eye, a wonder of what had gone wrong.

your hands twiddled with the bottom hem of dream's shirt you were wearing and you worked up the words to ask another question you were sure would leave you either a blushing mess or an embarrassed mess. ”so what happened then?” dream was gentle with his response because he didn't want you to feel bad. after all, how could he hurt the pretty girl in his bed, wearing his clothes? ”uhm, well the drive back here was fine, great even! but when we got back, in the uh, living room, you started crying.” for a split second, clay could've sworn he saw your eyes widen but he couldn't be sure because you'd thrown your hands over your face. ”is there anything else?” you peeked out with one eye from between two fingers. ”yeah, but uhm, let's get you something to eat before we talk about this, hm?” he asks, standing up, hand outstretched to you.

hesitantly, you let your hand fall into his and you follow him out of the bedroom into the kitchen.

”so, what can i get you stranger?” he smiles, and you sit down at the island as he releases your hand.

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

[miscfandomgifimagines]

Okay so I am currently sick af and this is purely comfort writing for myself. I kinda wrote it for myself but in a way that you can insert yourself or your oc, whatever you wish. Also posting this on my fandom blog vs my main because my roommate has called me out for my blue person hyper fixation lmao. Human reader x Lyle Wainfleet, Lyle being a caretaker.

* Lyle isn’t too fond of scientists. They tend to be boring and super serious and he can hardly understand most of them. But there were 2 scientists in particular that were assigned to the recon squad that he actually enjoyed. Two young kids in their mid twenties from Earth who got the chance of a lifetime to get shipped out to space to work with avatars.

* Your partner/ coworker was low key a genius at understanding Na’vi biology on a totally different level than everyone else. When offered the job he demanded that he be able to take his lifelong best friend with to act as his second hand man and that’s how you got in the picture. You were smart, but everyone could tell you weren’t really a scientist. You had loads of skills from welding, to navigating the stars, first aid training, and being an a pretty big nerd on Pandora flora and fauna. So you had your uses to the team.

* From day one you were labeled as sarcastic and a smart ass which didn’t bother you too much. In fact you were kind of happy to inflict yourself on others, especially the recoms. You and Lyle butted heads from the first minute you met with insults and burns flying both ways.

* He’ll never forget the time he asked you a question and you tried to make him figure it out himself. It wasn’t that he was stupid, but he wasn’t exactly book smart either. Eventually when he got his answer he was quite proud of himself. You on the other hand gave him a snort and shot another comment his way.

* “I’m really surprised! I didn’t think you’d actually get it. I just wanted to see how many brain cells you were capable of using at once.” *Ouch*

* Once you got to know each other a bit better the comments and roasting turned humorous and mildly affectionate. Lyle and you would take turns coming up with burns for each other and eventually the recom team as well.

* “When he wears his sunglasses he looks like a little league coach.” Lyle snorts and gives a little nod.

* “Wainfleet you are so god damn bald I can see my reflection off the back of your head.” You snickered. “Oh really? I didn’t think you could see that high Short stack.” Lyle shot back.

* Your laid back attitude and nonchalantness about wrangling an entire team of marines was kind of impressive. Lyle remembers the first time you got on Colonel’s temper and you were so offended when Quaritch hissed at you that you sprayed him with the water bottle you were holding while gardening.

* “Colonel, you are a grown ass man and I know you have better manners than that.” Quaritch started to growl and was about ready to fire back some insults when you held up the bottle again towards his face. You raised a defying eyebrow at him and said in the most stern voice you could possible manage, “Don’t make me get the hose.”

* Lyle couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore and the pair of you turned to look at him. Colonel scowled and you had such a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “Short stack you got some balls.” Was all Lyle managed to say before Quaritch was angrily stalking towards him.

* While there weren’t a lot of humans that the recoms interacted with on a weekly or even monthly basis, the scientists still had to get supplies from the main bases. Lyle would accompany you to the commissary shop and watch in curiosity to see what you would pick. Mainly shower supplies, some new clothes to replace your tattered ones, some impulse snacks that get shipped up to generate cash for the base. Okay, mostly snacks like sour gummy worms and chips.

* You even snuck away for a brief minute and came back with some other goods, which upon smelling turned out to be edibles. He just shook his head and laughed while trying not to draw attention. You smiled and winked at him, “I gotta keep myself sane somehow!”

* After about a week and a half of returning from base you started to complain about not feeling good. You were restless at night and didn’t get much sleep so you were extra crabby. For the most part you were alright but when Quaritch pushed you out of bed ridiculously early to make breakfast for everyone you let him have it. There was yelling and a fair bit of cursing about how men are so helpless they can’t even cook for themselves for one freaking morning. You looked everyone straight in the eye and in a hoarse voice you told everyone you were going back to bed.

* The colonel was miffed to say the least, Lyle had never seen him so angry at you before and he grabbed the Colonels arm and said “I’ll handle this.”

* Due to part of the mission objective was to “become Na’vi” the RDA custom built a shack and transported it out to the middle of the forest, a few miles away from main base. The shack everyone lived in was one level for the most part with a sectioned off sleeping quarters for the crew. There was also high ceilings to accommodate the recoms height. There was also a kitchen and what you could call a living area of sorts. A few chairs here and there but that was about it.

* For the two humans, there was a second floor added- almost like a horseshoe shaped loft. There were two bedrooms on opposite sides that had curtains for privacy. There was also a middle living/ work area that was were you and your colleague had set up your equipment and offices. There was a open section leading into the loft that Avatars were able to stand up in, which came about chest level for them. This was where many of the recoms physicals and vitals took place since the humans could reach the avatar faces without the recoms having to crouch down.

* You had your curtains drawn shut and he almost hesitated. Lyle knocked his knuckles into the floor and called out to you. “What’s up Short stack?” You didn’t respond but he could hear you rustling in your bed. His ears flicked at the nose and he waited for your response.

* “I don’t feel good, I think I’m getting sick. I have had a headache for the past 2 days and nothing has helped. I also have a sore throat. All I want to do is sleep.” Lyle felt sympathy for you and reached out one long arm to pull the curtain back. You were sitting up, propped against your pillows with the blanket wrapped around you. Lyle could see the redness in your eyes and assumed you had cried a little bit either out of frustration or pain.

* “Is there anything I can do?” Lyle offered and you took a deep breath in. “Well I’d love to get some more sleep honestly. But I think picking up some cold medicine from base would be a good idea.” You huffed angrily, “I can’t believe I go to another freaking planet, I’m hardly around other humans, and I *still* got sick! This sucks.”

* Lyle nods understandingly. “I’ll get you your medicine, so you can go back to sleep. Just try not to piss the Colonel off anymore okay? And make sure you drink some water too.” You nodded but rolled your eyes a bit. “Okay dad.”

* When Lyle came back to the group in the kitchen he cleared his throat and addressed Quaritch. “Sir she’s sick. I think it would be a good idea to let her rest and pick up some medication before it gets any worse. So it doesn’t spread to the other human.” Quaritch huffs but doesn’t say anything other than “Alright.”

* Lyle goes to the commissary like the two of you usually did. The person behind the counter asks what he can do for him. “I need cold medicine.” The man behind the counter laughs. “Good luck finding that around here. I haven’t seen a new shipment of that in a while. Come back in a week and we may have some. In the meantime here is some cough drops and electrolyte replenishers.”

* Lyle’s tail flicked in disappointment. He knew that timing was important and in order to make this better you needed treatment sooner rather than later. So he looked down at the man with sharp eyes and said in his best threatening voice “I’ll be back next week. You better save 2 bottles of whatever you get for me or I will not be happy.” The man’s heart rate spiked and he nodded frantically.

* Lyle came back home with the meager supplies he could get and called to you from the kitchen. You came down wrapped in a big sweater and pulled his tail gently as you walked past. “Did you get some?” He shook his head and sighed. “They’re all out, maybe next week. I promise I’ll go as soon as the shipment comes in. In the meantime drink one of these.” He places a bottle down in front of you, which looks ridiculously small compared to his hand. You drink most of it down and place the cold bottle to your forehead in hopes of persuading your headache to go away.

* You look up at him and see a small frown forming on the corners of his lips. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault, you did what you could. I appreciate it dude.”

* Over the next few days your symptoms end up becoming worse. Now with the sore throat you are congested, coughing, and running a fever. Due to safety concerns your friend is temporarily set up in the recom quarters to prevent contamination. So while you were suffering from a cold you were also isolated too.

* What made it a little better was that your colleague was certain your sickness couldn’t be passed to the recoms so you could still hang out with Lyle. Lyle was hanging out by the railing each day, doing what he could to cheer you up. He brought you some cool rocks he found outside, told you a few funny stories about the shenanigans he got up to in the marines, and of course brought you snacks and water.

* One morning your fever broke 102 and Lyle was seriously freaking out. Unfortunately all he could do was give you acetaminophen and some cold rags to hopefully lower your temp. At this point even the Colonel was worried. They both looked at you on your bed and then at each other. “How many more days until the medicine gets here?” Quaritch asks, worry dancing in his voice. “Day and a half.” The Colonel puts his hand on Lyle’s shoulder and looks at him in the eye.

* “We just got word from base that Jake Sully has been sighted outside of the mountains. I’m getting the team together to go find him. I feel bad about leaving her in this state, but I’m going to put my trust in you that you can take care of her by yourself. We are leaving in an hour.” Lyle’s heart sinks a bit. He wants so badly to get revenge on Sully too but right now his biggest worry is you. Lyle nods and Colonel starts packing up supplies.

* The team leaves and it causes enough noise to wake you up. You head down the stairs slowly, your head bobbing up and down on each step. “Hey Short stack, you hungry?” You look up at Lyle, his hand comes down to rest on your forehead. You put your small hand on top of his and nod your head gently.

* Lyle gets to work heating up some soup and makes you each a sandwich. You eat in silence and when you finish he puts another drink in front of you. Without saying anything you open the bottle and take a few chugs.

* “So,” Lyle’s tail flicks to one side and then another, “What do you want to do now that everyone is gone?” A small smile on his lips, hoping it’ll spread to yours. You put the bottle down and think for a minute. “We could watch some movies or something.” “Okay just no chick flicks.”

* Lyle gets the two of you set up in the den with blankets and pillows and tries to make a comfy spot for you to lay down. You grab your tablet and settle into the pile, leaning against his side for support. You choose something to watch from a list, something animated. He watches it with you somewhat, getting engrossed in the plot. He feels you get heavier against his side and glances down at your now sleeping body. He pick you up gently and sets you in the curve of his arm in a more comfortable position for your back.

* He’s surprised at just how warm your fever is making you. His skin feels like ice compared to yours. He places one hand on your forehead again and you mumble in your sleep a bit. He turns on his side and peers at your sleeping figure.

* Lyle’s ears perk up when he hears your friend come in. “Hey so good news! The medicine is in early, I’m on my way to go get it now. You hold down the fort while I’m gone.” Lyle nods and turns his attention back to the sleeping girl in his arms. For the past few days you had been a shell of who you usually are. No quippy comebacks, no sarcastic interruptions, not even a joke for the past week. He was worried about you. After everything he had been through in his human and avatar life he had not had a relationship like this with anyone else.

* He loved you- platonically of course. He didn’t realize how much he missed the roasting and cursing and well, the normal you. He saw you as his closest friend and he hadn’t had one in so long. Without thinking the words start to fall out of his mouth.

* “Come on Short stack, hurry up and get better so you can kick my ass again.” He lets out a small laugh, lowering his lips to the top of your head. He places a small kiss to your temple. You curl into his body as he pulls away. “I miss you. Please.” He whispers. He moves a pillow under his head and relaxed his body. With the background noise of your wheezy breathing and the show you picked Lyle eventually fell asleep himself.

* He woke up when your friend came back with the medicine and he gently woke you up. Your eyes fluttered open and you reached out for his face, still groggy. He scoops you up in his arms and sits you on his lap so you can drink the medicine. You shudder as it hits your tongue, the nasty taste shaking the sleep from you. You finish it all and within a few hours your fever is gone and so is most of your cough.

* You were still in the pillow nest Lyle had made for the two of you and you turn towards him with a smile. “I think I was hallucinating or dreaming or something.” “Oh yeah?” Lyle smiles, happy you’re doing better. “Yeah I could have sworn you kissed me.” You let out a laugh and cover your mouth as you begin to cough.

* “Yeah Short stack, you were definitely dreaming.” His ears flutter for a brief second after being called out. He was so sure you were asleep when he did it. Whatever, at least you were getting better.

[unicorn-academy-brainrot]

Do you have any thoughts on the UCA toys? And maybe what you’d want to see with the toys paired with the upcoming S2 stuff?

Yes!! I have many many thoughts. Too many, even, so prepare yourself for a giant infodump lol. I was gonna wait until I had all my dolls before posting about them but whatever haha, right now I have the Sophia and Ava fashion dolls and I'm waiting on the Isabel fashion doll and the mini Sophia/Wildstar duo to arrive.

When I saw THEEEE very first promo picture of the Sophia fashion doll my reaction was a very lowkey "eww....."... Like I thought it was very cool that they had made a doll but I wasn't super impressed by how it looked, and that it didn't really resemble the Netflix version of her super well. But honestly seeing the dolls in person changed my opinion of them quite a bit. I think they are really cute and actually quite well made in person, photos don't seem to do them justice!! They have a micro glitter to their skin which makes a really lovely sheen, and their hair is really soft?? I wouldn't go as far as to say it's soft like human hair but it's somewhere in the ballpark of very very soft synthetic hair, it has a really lovely quality to it that I could see a young girl really drawn to, especially with the little carebrushes included. Really satisfying to brush and the curls hold their shape quite well. Sophia's jacket is also quite a bit more holographic in person than in pictures. I think the face and body molds are really cute and well done!

I'm no doll reviewer by any means, but I think my biggest gripe with the fashion dolls is that the clothing in some areas feels cheap. I don't like that it looks printed and that the edges in some parts feel unfinished or unhemmed. For example, the neckline of Sophia's tank top is hemmed but the bottom edge is raw?? I was comparing the dolls to some of my early 2000s strawberry shortcake dolls and the SS dolls had better finished clothing! Which is soooo wild to me. I'm not sure exactly how to compare because the dolls are $20ish (in Canada anyways), and really nice fashion dolls like Monster High can be easily twice that amount. But I think if the clothing had an extra level of quality it would go really far because I actually quite like the other aspects of the dolls.

My other nitpick would be that Sophia's eyes in the show are a bit purple, but on her doll, she has brown eyes. Ava's eyes are also a strange mix that doesn't really look like her green eyes on the show. And for some inexplicable reason, Sophia's skin is very slightly darker than Ava's??? Sophia's printed image on the box is several times lighter than her doll. I guess Sophia got some great tans from all her time with Wildstar lmao???

It's also worth noting that EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. of my boxes were absolutely fucking SMOOSHED in the mail. (Okay, not that terrible, but I was really disappointed to see strong visible creasing and some tearing on the upper portion of each package.) The packaging is super cute but unfortunately not sturdy enough when shipped in a soft package as mine unfortunately were. I actually had to return and reorder replacements for Sophia and Ava because the packaging was in bad condition, only for the replacements to be smushed in the same areas. I would advise people to pick them up in person if they can, seems like they are prone to damage during shipment.

I'll have to wait until Isabel gets here to give my final thoughts on the fashion dolls but tentatively they're a 7.5/10 for me, a very acceptable first wave of UCA toys that I'm pleasantly surprised by, but still have room to improve. I'm also really disappointed that Rory, Layla, and Valentina don't have fashion dolls but I'm really hoping that they are on their way eventually. I'm glad they have mini dolls of Layla and Valentina but where the fuck is Rory and Storm?! I have yet to receive my mini dolls so I'll update when those arrive. Not sure I'll get many more (maybe Valentina?) but I'll see. I'm not sure if I'll get any of the larger horse toys either as they're a bit pricey (AND I HATE THE HOLLOW INNER LEGS) but who knows!! I do think it would be cool to have the riders with their unicorns.

For season 2 I'm really excited to see if the blind box toys match with foals we meet in the show! And I hope Sophia isn't the only one we get a masquerade doll of! It would be cool to get some baby unicorns that aren't blind boxes too. Honestly I'd love a flutterbunny plush too hehe <3 (AND CAN U IMAGINE A SUPER CUNTY RAVENZELLA DOLL......... LIVES WOULD BE CHANGED)

Oh and just for funsies I got the Unicorn Academy blanket... Yeah, save your money lol it's super super thin. I wear it like a shawl around the house

[science-lings]

Intro to my Phoenix!Phoenix AU

One thing I love about 'Phoenix being an actual Phoenix' AU's is that everyone can kind of put their own spin on it, maybe he has feathers and can talk to birds or is immune to fire, but because making a humanoid character into a mythical reincarnating bird is already deviating from every type of lore out there, you can just do whatever you want with it, which is my favorite thing to do.

The most important part of my particular Phoenix AU is his blood. In this au, his blood is what bursts into flames when he dies or is jumpstarted by an outside source of fire. It glows like molten metal to heal wounds and can even be transferred to another host to give them a bit of a magical healing boost in extreme situations.

continue on if you want to see the full informative essay lmao

He can set his blood on fire to jumpstart his own rebirth to skip the whole 'dying' thing, but that comes with its own consequences. It leaves him extremely weak and feverish for days afterward. In this AU he did take Dahlia's poison pills, and he ate the necklace, though because he almost died too recently, he still gets scars from the glass and the subsequent surgeries, he just wasn't strong enough to heal completely. It's why he gets away from eagle river with just a cold, he caught some of the debris of the flaming bridge and that ultimately saved him during the impact. Or at least kept him from having to fully die.

The fire fueled by phoenix blood is an unnatural blue and gets so hot that it melts metal and sets things around it aflame really easily. It extinguishes itself once Phoenix is healed but leaves behind scorch marks (both anywhere it touched and on Phoenix's body) and the normal fire that spawns from it needs to be dealt with more normally. Being reborn won't completely burn his suit off, but will leave ashy black marks in the places he was injured. idk how to logic that one out, I just think he deserves the mercy of not having to wake up from dying to be naked on top of everything else.

Phoenix can change forms, but as he wants to keep his mythical status a bit of a secret, he rarely does so and isn't good enough at transforming to do it during more urgent situations. His fear of heights also makes him less inclined to go birdmode. It's only after his disbarment that he becomes more comfortable testing out his own abilities and even joins Trucy in her magic shows as a flaming bird assistant. When he wants to watch his junior partners' trials, he occasionally attends in birdmode and hangs out in the courthouse windows. Sometimes he will swoop down to defend his kids from Taka as he has a bit of a grudge against the bird. He appears like Mia in times when hope is lost to scream a little, because he is a bird. (Trucy and her bird dad art)

Physical indicators of his true nature can mostly be hidden by his clothes, he has patches of small iridescent black/blue/indigo feathers like soft scales on his forearms, shoulders, back, hips, and lower legs. His hair is not quite made up of feathers but kind of supplemented by more featherlike bits of hair that only become obvious when touching it. He still has plausible deniability about his weird hair. His nails are naturally matte black and his eyelashes are long and dark enough to be noticeable but not too unusual.

Pre-Trucy he's trying his best to hide this part of himself but he gets more relaxed about it during his disbarment. when before he would refuse to roll his sleeves up even on the hottest of days, he gets more open about it with her. By the time he gets reinstated, his secret is kind of out so he sees no reason to try so hard to hide it.

One thing I'm still mulling over is how his immortality works. Either he can be good at being able to revive himself before he fully dies which causes him to reincarnate/regenerate into a new baby form with no/few memories of his life before or he could die, but only fully reincarnate every hundred or so years. This is all to say that I want his previous form to be Ryuunosuke. There are just core pieces of his personality that continue on, like being gay for his best friend and becoming a lawyer for him, and also his weird hair and big puppy eyes.

Also with all the talk about blood, I think a spinoff AU with Edgeworth being a vampire would just be fun. But I don't know how phoenix blood would affect a vampire... like would it reverse the vampirism? Would it partially reverse it? would it reverse the undead part but keep some of the silly vampire features? I haven't decided yet but it sounds funky to consider.

now to figure out what to call it... maybe Blood of the Phoenix (BotP AU), idk I'm taking suggestions now lmao