#there's no time for me to be the child i should've been there's no way to get that back

[phoenixremix69]

Sasuke, in my opinion, deserved to fuck off

and I don't mean that in a bad way. Sasuke and Team Taka as a whole were people who got firmly fucked over by the world and shinobi society and deserved to leave.

Juugo was born with an uncontrollable medical condition and the only one willing to "help" him was a genocidal madman that was allowed to do whatever atrocities he felt like because the hokage said to let him go that one time

Karin is a survivor of another genocide, and was only allowed to live because her mother and her were deemed useful enough to live as slaves, to the point where her mother was literally sucked dry of chakra and died. Only to be recruited by, oh my god, same crazy asshole. and that was somehow a step up for her

then Suigetsu, another genocide survivor over another uncontrollable medical condition. except in his case, the uncontrollable part was just him having extra powers with barely any downsides. and in fact, he was jazzed to be part of kiri. he was totally up for being a loyal shinobi and joining their most elite group. But fuck that, tube time

and finally, Sasuke Uchiha. another genocide survivor, except this time, the genocide was performed by the person he loved most in the world. a person who proceeded to torture him for a few days straight. and then got no consequences so for all Sasuke knows, he's been completely free to kill more people and ruin more lives. and the only comfort he has is that he's safe in the village, and that one day he'll be strong enough to kill him. except not. another round of torture and being reminded that he should be strong and the only way to be strong is to give up your bonds. so he does, he gives up on his friends and his village and goes to train with the guy promising him free magic powers. and he does it. he kills the man that's been haunting him for almost a decade. only to be told no, not only did that man love him more than anything, not only was he ordered to kill everyone by the village council, but that same council is still very much in power. In fact, one of them has been abducting orphans and brainwashing them into child soldiers for decades. and literally everyone knew. it's not like kakashi never told anyone, hell, he tried to kill the ninja dictator once. so sasuke goes to kill him, and the konoha council, and every leader who keeps perpetuating this bullshit system. and the whole time, his "friends" keep telling him. "Let it go! ignore the systematic oppression and subsequent slaughter your clan faced for decades. ignore all the atrocities the shinobi system has perpetuated and continues to perpetuate even now! come back to the village that's been fucking you over your entire life!"

Fuck that. at the end of the story, after naruto and sasuke's big final battle, and naruto tells sasuke to come bvack, he should've been like "fuck you. i might not have been right but you sure as shit aren't right either. so you know what i'm gonna do? i'm gonna take my actual team, and these chakra monsters that've also been oppressed and enslaved under the shinobi system, and i'm gonna jump in a dimension hole, and never come back. if you ever want me to reconsider, maybe try living up to your promises and start changing things for the better. i'd start with the actual slavery your girlfriend's "family practices

[doverstar]

joseph gordon-levitt called jim hawkins "just a very good-looking wasp of a boy that I will never be" and I've been thinking about that for two weeks

[cosmojjong]

.

[thehealingsystem]

bruhhh yesterday I was scanning this older woman's groceries and just as I was about to hand her her receipt I noticed a bunch of pins she had on her purse, most about voting but one read "if gender is fluid, why do you need surgeries to change it?" with horror I realized I was too nice to this woman and feared that I may have come across as accepting of her stupid opinions. then remembered I very clearly have a pin with my pronouns on it. I hope my existence at the store plagued her for the rest of the day

[thinkinonsense]

forgive if it’s a bit scatterbrained but hear me out… some sort of reverse corruption w old man!logan >///< i just feel like he won’t be the type of guy who’d immediately be into having a thing w young!reader. i feel like he won’t even take it seriously at first or there’s def gonna be more resistance from him, he’d probably feel initially repulsed by the idea of even beginning to think of them that way given how young they are. but reader is bold bold, so they’re gonna keep pushing and pushing until they’ve got him where they want him. but even if she’s practically sinking down on him, logan is still probably gonna be like “fuck’s wrong with you, huh? old enough to be your fucking grandfather, kid. c’mon, you don’t really want this.”

poor old man’s just too decent for his own good :(

old man!logan x young bold fem!reader *mdni

logan couldn't stand you. how young and ambitious you were; how you couldn't just take no as a fuckin' answer. you thought it was cute but logan found it rather obnoxious. you were persistent with your attraction towards the older man; frequenting the only bar in town that logan was still welcomed in.

"what are we drinking tonight, lo?" your voice was a siren song that he wished he could turn off.

"whiskey." he mumbles against the glass.

the mean glare he sent your way would've made anyone else run in fear, but not you. instead smiling up at him with bambi eyes. at first, logan thought you were just dumb, not picking up on his signals but as it turned out, you're just stubborn.

every friday night, you sat on the stool next to him. you should've been flirting with guys your age by the pool table but no, you would rather get rejected by the old man who drinks alone. at one point even the bartenders started to think that you two were together which logan quickly shut down.

"c'mon, at least let me pretend that i'm yours," you whine, swirling around your second fruity drink tonight.

"you don't want to 'be mine', kid," he said in a stern voice, similar to one you would use on a child who won't behave.

"aaand...why not?" you ask him, crossing your arms and already getting pissy. "don't gimme that bullshit about you being 'too old' either."

"has anyone ever told you that you're-"

"pretty? hilarious? tight? yeah, a few times actually."

logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. he tries to give you some sympathy but there's only so many times that you can burn your hand on the stove until you learn your lesson.

"look, cherry..." logan sets his glass down. you adored when he called you, cherry because that meant he was paying attention to you and what you drank, always having to top it off with a cherry. "i'm probably your grandfather's age-"

"don't care." you interrupt him, leaning forward to stare into his eyes and run a hand through his hair. "your grey hair is so hot, lo. should let me pull on it sometime."

logan was finding it more difficult to resist you. almost letting out a groan when you pull slightly. logan could smell your arousal forming; clouding his vision.

"why don't you throw your panties in someone else's direction, huh? i'm sure those boys over there wouldn't mind." logan snarls, getting fed up with your attitude.

it wasn't that he didn't find you attractive, quite the opposite really. maybe if he was younger or you were older then he wouldn't mind your flirty personality so much but that's not the way that the world works. logan is -whether or not he wants to admit it- old and he didn't have time to put up with your whiney shit.

"okay." you shrug, getting up from the barstool.

logan doesn't believe that you'll actually go talk to those boys. in one minute your ass will be back here annoying him. he was sure of it.

then ten minutes passed and giggles were still falling from your lips. nothing the guys said was actually funny but you played it up to look better. there was one guy who you actually didn't mind talking to; both of you went to the same college and shared the same major. for a second, you'd completely forgotten about the man burning holes into your side.

the two of you talked for a while, exchanging stories while you leaned against the pool table in your tiny cut-off shorts. logan watched those boys gawk at you; staring everywhere but your face.

"i know right! her class was horrible! all she did was-" your words fell short when someone grabbed your upper arm, attempting to pull you away from the guy, who you think his name was josh, or john, or jake? you couldn't really remember and you definitely didn't care.

"c'mon kid, i'll give you a ride home." logan growled in your ear.

"oh, it's okay!" you chirp like a little bird at him. "think i'll find another way home tonight."

it's just a facade, logan told himself. you were just trying to prove a point. always stubborn.

"i'm not messing 'round, kid-"

"leave her alone, old man." the kid interrupted, giving logan a push.

logan snarls, about to teach this boy a lesson but you are faster; heel-kicking him in the nuts. the boy hunched over, allowing you to be ear level with him.

"fuck off." you spit, angrily before walking away.

logan looked at you completely dumbfounded. he had no other choice than to follow you blindly outside of the bar. he found you leaning against his truck; under the dim street light, logan would've misplaced you for some angelic figure.

"mind takin' me home, lo?" you ask him, for once not acting like some horny little rabbit towards him.

he nods, fishing out his keys. you give him directions to your apartment. the silence in the car makes you think logan's mad at you for real this time. you pushed it too far, embarrassing him and yourself this time. logan wasn't this dirty old perv who would actually give you the time of day, and maybe it was time for you to face that reality.

"i just wanted to say sorry for everything." your voice is low and quiet. afraid logan won't even acknowledge you. "i know that i should've left you alone a long time ago. you wouldn't want someone like me anyway-"

the car came to a dead halt in the driveway. logan turns to face you and you fear the worst; afraid he will yell at you.

"do you seriously think i wouldn't want you?" he asks. "you haven't left my mind since the day we bumped into each other at the bar and i spilled my whisky down your shirt. remember that, cherry?"

you nod, carefully. that day was imprinted in your mind. your friends and you were celebrating your birthday when logan bumped into you at the bar on accident. he frantically apologized for ruining your white shirt which you suggested for him to lick you clean. it had been so long since someone had flirted with him that he didn't know how to react.

"i'd never seen someone look so pretty and sticky at the same time." logan's hand gently caresses your cheek.

"could've seen it more often if you had fucked me like i wish you would've." the words fall out without pressure, making logan smirk. no matter how much you tried, you were desperate for him.

"you've got one dirty fuckin' mouth, cherry."

"it gets dirtier than that."

"hmm... don't know if that's possible."

"i could show you if you like."

the offer hangs hot in the truck. logan leans back into his seat, asking for forgiveness on what he's about to do. three light taps on his thigh and you crawl right into it.

"atta fuckin' girl, cherry." he groans as you grind against his crotch and bite on his neck.

"also for the record, the only person i want to have my panties is you, logan." you purred in his ear, referring back to your earlier conversation at the bar.

"i know, sweetheart. i know." he chuckles, watching you kick off your shorts and underwear.

once your back in his lap, you unbuckle his belt and wait eagerly for him to have his way with you. yet, logan doesn't offer anything.

"if you want to fuck an old man like me then you need to get used to doin' all the work, cherry." he says, half-joking. "can't keep up with an eager little thing like you."

you knew his game. to scare you off by acting like an asshole but you didn't mind doing the work to get what you want.

"fine with me." you smile, hands inching towards the glasses that hang on his button-down. "can't forget these, want you to see what you do to me."

logan groaned when you pulled him out of his pants, pumping him a few times before aligning him to your entrance. he was a bit bigger than you would've guessed, only making you wetter. just as you are about to sink down onto him, logan stops you, holding your hips in the air.

"fuck's wrong with you, cherry? you still want this, huh?" he taunts you, only getting a whine from you in response. "such a desperate little thing."

"p-p-please, logan." your hips wiggle against his tight grip. "want you... need you."

without another word, he lowers you down onto his length. both of you moan at the adjustment. your nails claw at logan's shoulders and you feel him twitch inside of you at the pain.

"happy now?" logan groaned, watching you bounce up and down on your own. his hands stayed on your waist, squeezing at the fat of your hips. "got what you fuckin' wanted."

"mhm..." you nod along dumbly agreeing to whatever he says. too busy trying to get his white button-down off of him. frustrated, you break open all the buttons.

once his chest was exposed, you litter it with kisses and dark bruises. for the first time, logan was happy that his healing abilities were slowing down so now he can admire your artwork longer. you grab both of his giant palms bringing one hand to your chest and taking the other thumb into your mouth, licking the pad of it before moving it down to your clit. tracing circles in a way that made your head fall back with your mouth wide open.

"do you always get this wet for older men or is it just for me, sweetheart?" logan asked, fist full of your hair.

"j-just you, lo..." you gasp.

logan's lips found your jaw, kissing up to your chin before capturing your lips. he wasn't a fan of fruity drinks but he loved the taste they left in your mouth. your backs against the wheel lazily and logan can tell that your orgasm is approaching.

"don't give up now, cherry." he teased. "you were doing so good, being a perfect little slut in my lap. what happened to her?"

you were too fucked out to say anything back and he knew it. logan finally took pity on you and started pistoling into you, listening to every pretty curse word that fell from your trembling lips.

"where do you want me, sweetheart?" logan grunts in your ear, pulling at the lobe as you come down from your high.

"inside, please."

that's all logan needed to hear to spill inside of you. the warmth indescribably flooded you. the two of you collapse in each other's arms, collecting yourself for a few minutes.

"told you, i'm a good fuck." you told him, looking up at him with messy hair and an unapologetic smile.

"didn't doubt you," he says, mirroring your smile as he moves some pieces of hair from your forehead. maybe logan could see you being a permanent person in his life.

"and to think..." your words drift off as you start to move again, feeling him get hard again inside of you. "we are just getting started."

[abrahamvanhelsings]

#i can and will die on the hill that ned little - the actual lt. little of the show - is as far removed from the sad wet doormat of a man#that fanon likes to portray him as; as humanly possible#the closest correlation between fanon!ned and actual canon!ned is his prolonged misery and level of worry-induced distress#he's more than competent - we see it time and again throughout the first half of the show#but the biggest indication of this is crozier himself handing little his pistol when he goes into self-imposed rehab#HE WOULDN'T DO THAT IF HE DIDN'T THINK EDWARD WAS CAPABLE OF HANDLING THE SITUATION.#crozier's not a man to mince words or spare feelings - if he thought little unequal to the task he would've handed his pistol to fitzjames#instead; but no. he chooses edward precisely bc he knows edward is loyal and steadfast and capable of doing what needs to be done

#edward is the one who falters in that scene; not bc he's too overwhelmed to cope but because he knows exactly what is at stake if#anything goes wrong during crozier's convalescence; the lives of a hundred+ men turning on a dime should crozier not survive his withdrawal#and he's not wrong to feel daunted by the task! it's an immense amount of responsibility -#one crozier himself bowed and buckled under the second leadership of the expedition was thrust upon him! it's a terrifying situation;#but edward still steps up and in the wake of francis's seclusion; for once; things actually go somewhat smoothly!#the men are faring better without the black cloud of crozier's alcoholism and negativity hanging over them like a shroud;#he's gotten fitzjames off his back for the most part; other than for carnivale. and even here we see edward's diligence and commitment#to his position as first lieutenant of the expedition bc he's the one questioning using vital supplies for a party! he's the one#who agrees that the men need the distraction; but worries if they can afford to foot the bill later;#when things will be more difficult! that is the kind of mindset francis himself displays at the beginning#of the show when he's questioning sir john's decision to press forward despite every sign imaginable telling them not to!#EDWARD WORRIES FOR THE MEN THE SAME WAY CROZIER DOES

#what trips him up; what ends up driving a wedge between him and crozier; what causes little to fuck up the armory situation; is this:#crozier himself. bc francis was a mean drunk. and while in his cups he treated little as no better than a ship's boy; running menial errand#and very literally risking life and limb to indulge the vices of a man who treats him with open contempt (and let's be clear; that man isn'#the captain edward has come to know and respect since they set out from greenhithe - no; that is a stranger wearing his captain's face;#making choices that leave edward feeling frustrated and helpless and enraged)#what crozier's belittling of little's station and rank does during this time is make him deeply insecure of his own purpose and competence;via @boogiewoogieweeb

listen i don't think edward little was actually a bad first lieutenant. when we see him in the first episode he's calm and confident. he does not say much but he's amiable enough. crozier likes him, and i don't think crozier would like anyone he doesn't think capable in some way. generally he's dependable and knows what he's doing. however unfortunately for edward he has these qualities because he has a major case of eldest daughter syndrome, which means he both wants to please his mum (crozier) and has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for his younger siblings (crew), so when they get stuck in the ice and crozier starts going (more) alcoholic, he enables his mum bc he doesn't want to disappoint her even if he doesn't agree with her, and he has to pick up the tasks and care for his siblings she's not doing, but he can't let his siblings know about their mum's situation because they'll get worried and restless. and like a true eldest daughter he has to bear the brunt of mummy's anger for being a disappointment but he also doesn't want to seek refuge with the man she divorced (fitzjames) because that feels like a betrayal. also while this is going on there is a giant bear who hunts his siblings for sport so they're dying left and right and also a changeling master manipulator who's making his siblings mad at their mum and who wants to fuck said mum before eating her like some sort of praying mantis. anyway i think i would start being miserable and anxious too.

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I

1 2 3 4 5 6

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.

''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.

''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.

''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.

''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.

''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.

''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.

''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.

''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.

''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.

''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.

''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.

''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.

[NEXT]

[bunnys-kisses]

bubble tea and mocha coffee george russell serving blueberry bars and sticky toffee pudding please

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu, there is tons of items to choose from! i've even added new items recently so please, check it out! thank you to this lovely anon for sending this prompt, i have FINALLY gotten around to george russell (and i'm sorry)!! i hope you love this! thank you!

blueberry bars (“gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”) + sticky toffee pudding ("the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant.") + bubble tea (daddy kink) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by george russell (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, daddy kink, wife!reader, pregnancy

this started because george saw you with some kids. it was a collaboration between a child's hospital and formula one. while the kids got to meet some of the drivers, the kids took a liking to you after the excitement of meeting an formula driver worn off.

throughout the event, you had at least two or three of the kids following you close behind. george thought it was so sweet. you did so well with them! george had a dumb smile on his face as he watched you interact with them, he stayed close to you. but by the end of the event, they were more interested in mrs. russell's ability to draw cows and cats than the famous driver.

made his heart skip a little bit. but, it stirred something else in him beside joy that you were having a good time. a deep urge to his beautiful wife pregnant with his child.

you should've known something was up when george's hand lingered on your back for a little bit. and that his thumb hooked into the waistband on your skirt from the back near the tag. he also kept you close to him and kissed your face every so often.

when you drove back to your hotel room for the weekend, his hand was on your thigh as he drove the rental car. occasionally his hand around dip between your legs for a brief moment that made you laugh.

"george!"

"sorry, i just can't help myself tonight. i've been thinking." he said as he kept his eyes on the road, "we've been married for a few years now, and maybe it was time we... had a baby."

you felt your cheeks heat up as you replied, "really? i mean, i know we talked about it a little. but, i was worried about your career. being away from us."

george held onto your knee and gave you a quick smile, "don't worry. i'm just worried we'll miss our chance to have a child, so if you're ready... then i'm ready."

in the hotel room, george unwrapped you like a present and you felt warm all over. his careful hands against you as he undid the zipper of your skirt while you got off your blouse.

you then in turn helped him get out of his slacks while he undid his shirt. you soon kissed, left in nothing but your underwear. you whimpered against the kiss when he got you onto your back.

“gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.” he said, his voice turned you on. you loved your husband's voice, but this edge of a promise that he'd get you pregnant made something curl in your gut. it was erotic and made you rub your thighs together.

he took off your bra and got his face in between your breasts and kissed at them. you groaned and got your fingers into his hair

"you taste so good." he groaned, "knowing that you're mine. my beautiful wife. about to be the mother of my children." he rubbed himself up against you and groaned, "the only way this is ending tonight is you getting pregnant."

you chuckled, "someone wants to be a daddy, huh." you gripped onto his hair further as he continued to pepper kisses along your soft breasts.

he made a small noise, "i like when you call me that." he helped you get him out of his briefs. with his cock freed, he quickly got off your panties. he licked his lips at the sight of his wife's pretty pussy.

he was gentle as he got one of the hotel pillows under your hips, allowing him to have a bit of leverage to get you at the right angle. he licked his lips once more. he slowly sank into you, mindful of every movement you made or didn't make. when he hit all the way to the base, he felt comfortable in the knowledge that he was inside of you.

your pussy felt like a dream as he started to move his hips. those pretty eyes of his gazed your body. it was heated on you, he was hungry. he said, "i love you."

you held onto him, your prince charming of a husband, "i love you." and smiled at him. the smile dropped when you felt the twist of pleasure in your gut at his movements.

"you're beautiful under me." he said, "you are so beautiful." he leaned in to kiss you on the lips and neck. feeling you squirm a little bit at how ticklish it felt.

"please, george. you're going to make me explode."

he chuckled and moved you a little bit to get a better angle. your legs on either side of his waist as he moved against you. his thrusts against you were steady, he made sure to get as deep as he could go.

the heat between you two was felt all over. your core throbbed at the feeling of being close to you. while his cock was painfully big, it was a good size to get a little stretch and deep it in all the right places. you whimpered a little bit and he held onto you a little tighter.

his heart pitter-pattered in his chest as he moved. he loved the feeling of you around him, being so intimate with you. it was romantic, if in a hot kind of way. eventually he took your hands in his and he pinned them down onto the soft covers.

you tightened your legs around his waist as you tried to meet his pace. it slowly picked up and he felt the heat across his cheeks. the sight of you, from that pretty mole on your stomach, to the lust in your eyes to the way your breasts moved when he moved against you.

he said, "beautiful."

"stop!" you whined but george only pushed you further into the bed. his pace picked up a little bit. he knew you weren't telling him to stop the sex, only the soft compliments. he knew you had a hard time accepting them.

"never. not for my wife." he said as he kissed you once more.

your face wound up as you felt the urge to climax. you felt your heart heavy in your chest as george's cock hit all the right places. you came around his cock with your hands on his shoulders once more. your short nails dug into the muscle of his arm as you arched your back.

your orgasm made his heart skip as he continued to move. his pace was a little rougher, but the blissed out expression you carried made it hard for him to go slower. the sight of you underneath him was just too much for him. his beautiful wife.

with a few more heavy strokes, he pushed himself up inside of you and finished. he let out a shudder as he kept himself balls deep inside of you. he made sure every last drop stuck to the deepest parts of you. he slowed to a stop and took you in his arms. his cock slipped out of you and he curled up against you on his side.

he peppered your face with kisses, "thank you, thank you."

you wrapped your arms around him and tangled your legs up with his. you beamed at one another, it felt nice. being so close. you two would make a perfect little family.

-

"you come here, eleanor. come to daddy." george was currently sitting on the grass behind the house you both owned. in front of him was his young daugther. eleanor russell was a little over one now and had been teetering on the edge

while it wasn't the easiest arrangement, with george often away for racing. but, even if he could spend a day or two with you, he always came back home anyway he could to see his two favourite girls.

it was a running joke now that he was the ultimate girl's dad. if people thought verstappen's car yapping was a lot. it was paled in comparison to how george spoke about you and your daughter.

the toddler tried to get up on her chubby little legs, but before she could tip over. george reached out and grabbed her gently. he helped her back onto her bum and said softly, "we'll get there." he smiled.

you were out for the day with some friends, and while george anticipated your return. he enjoyed sitting in the backyard with his daughter.

he chuckled down at the little girl and asked, "how would you feel about a little brother? if you're anything like your mother, you'll be a real monster to him." he picked up the little girl and smiled at her, "i know she's raising you to be a stubborn little thing. don't let anyone tell you that stubborn isn't a bad thing. you have the heart of a driver and the soul of the most wonderful in the world." he kissed his daughter on her chubby little cheek.

she just giggled. <3

[soraphic]

this isn't proofread at allllllll i rlly couldn't be fucked i'm sorry. (babydaddy)plug!connie (with abt a paragraph of eren🙈),smut,dirty talk,connie has a breeding kink,unprotected sex,creampie.. that's it?

𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 — 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢 (𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝)

you were being practically folded in half atop the crisp,white sheets of an uncomfortably sanitised hotel room as your phone rang.

a loud groan was let out from the man above you,but he allowed you a slither of space to pick up the facetime as you argued - "what if something's happened?"

you had entrusted your son with his daddy for the long weekend as your new,although not inherently a stranger,boyfriend pampered you with a trip from philly to new york.

he had coerced you into a sex-filled getaway with the notion that,as a 'single mother',you deserved some time off and that your son would adore some quality time with his dad.

you agreed on the promise that your baby would be out of all that 'gang shit',to which connie swore on his life he would keep.

that now left you and your son in different states and a slightly uneasy feeling in your stomach for the majority of the day. however,as if connie telepathically knew when his presence would be most annoying,he decided to call you just as things were progressing with you and your new beau.

you picked up the facetime,watching connie's face light up the screen with a shit eating grin. "hey,mami."

he had the dark hood of his custom all-black clothing pulled over his head,the slight peak of a ski mask able to be seen framing his face,highlighting the small cross decorating his cheekbone,as well as your name in cursive bending just above his eyebrow.

immediately conscious of the lack of the noise on his end of the line,you asked,"where's my son at,connie?"

"relax,ma,he sleepin' right next to me." he shuffled the camera to display your baby's sleeping figure,lips pursed and long lashes touching the fat of his cheeks as he slept. so serious,just like his daddy.

the phone was then brought back to connie,his jawline sharp as he pushed his tongue into his cheek,reaching over to adjust your son's blankets with the end of a pacifier hanging out of his mouth,phone resting against his chest.

after sorting your son,he looked back toward you,readjusting in his seat against the cream-coloured couch to take in the sight of you.

your hair was strewn out all over the pillows,your dark lip liner smeared down your chin and a content expression on your face having seen your child. although he had the joys of being blissfully unaware,seeing connie beside your own state through the facetime had you slightly reconsidering. you looked nothing like how you usually did after a fuck with connie,your makeup and lashes usually cried off with smears of drool down your chin simply from the delicious feeling of him pounding you. you shook off the thought almost as quickly as it came,not allowing yourself to indulge in it until you were at least back home.

"you been feedin' my baby?" the way you said it held a warning to it,but it never really worked with connie.

"you think 'ion know how to look after my son? he been eatin' good,ma,none of that formula shit."

you hesitated to praise him,not wanting to irritate your boyfriend further with any ex-to-ex pet names.

there was a few moments of content silence,but it was short-lived as it always is with connie,"so you not out with all your lil' girlfriends tonight?"

you had almost forgotten you had told him it was a 'girls vaca' to blow off some steam,mikasa and sasha covering for you while cosied up in their own homes.

eren scoffed beside you,dropping his head to laugh into his chest. you slapped his arm,demanding him to be quiet with your eyes alone,hoping to god connie hadn't heard the deep grumble of a painfully obviously male laugh.

"yo,you got someone else in there wit' you?"

the immediate reaction probably should've been to deny,deny,deny,but instead your instinct was to clap back at him just as hard.

"'n what if i did? we not dating,connie,you just the dick that impregnated me."

"no puedo creer," he mutters with a hand to his forehead,"who the fuck is it?"

"why do you care?" you knew you were being defensive,but who was he to stop you seeing other people?

"estupida,you on some fuckin' bae-cation with this mámon?"

"leave him alone,connie!"

"oh,so he there 'n he not gon' speak?coño."

you began to formulate an argument to fire back at him,as well as eren opening his mouth to speak,but the 3 of you were cut off by the shrieking sounds of a baby crying as your shouting had awoken your son.

connie was quick to place his phone down,carefully taking your son into his arms. he then leaned down to pick you up,bouncing your son on his hip as he pointed toward the camera,"look,you want your mami? say hi to mami,chico."

your son almost immediately settled,nuzzling into his daddy as connie pressed his lips to the swell of your son's cheek,giving a few kisses before moving to place one against his forehead.

you stopped your cooing at the screen to snap at connie once your son with settled. "look at you,now you done woke him up!"

he didn't reply,just continued to rock your son,now hyper aware of the fact that there was some guy balls deep in his baby mom listening in on your conversation.

"so you not gon' answer me now?"

"watchu want me to say?"

you were almost speechless. it wasn't like connie to ever avoid an argument like this,usually by this point having severely lost his shit. did he not care anymore?

you huffed,shifting around in the bed uncomfortably,pursing your lips,"'kay,i'll call you tomorrow morning before my drive."

your bags made an awful screech across the hard wood floors of connie's home,one the two of you previously shared. it had been up to you to design the interior,and not a day went by that you didn't severely regret your choice of flooring.

you quickly rid yourself of your scarf and jacket,hanging them neatly beside an array of both yours and connie's coats. even after moving all your important shit out,there was still bits and pieces of you filling connie's home,one that he still considered to be just as much yours as it was his. you were left in the knitted two piece you travelled in,paired with the chestnut uggs connie had gotten you last year,a fact about most of your outfits eren wasn't privy to. the beige tracksuit was one connie had always appreciated you in,which maybe contributed to your decision on the outfit this morning,although you'd never admit to it. it really did look good on you,but whether you mostly believed that because of his words and inability to keep his wandering hands off you you weren't exactly sure.

you practically skipped into the sitting room,having missed your two favourite boys for 3 days. the cheesy grin you were wearing grew ten fold when you were greeted with the sight of your son cuddled up on the couch in your baby daddy's arms,both almost completely immersed in connie's phone.

his eyes flickered up to meet yours for just a second,before breaking the contact and staring back at the screen. you couldn't help but frown slightly,almost dragging your feet over to him as you bend down to pick up your son,his eyes growing when he recognised your face. connie almost felt smug when he noticed your long nails curling around your son's chubby torso,ones he had paid for with his initial tattooed into your ring finger.

"you gon' stay silent the whole time,connie?"

his gaze snapped up to your face,feeling almost caught out by the cat-like grin spread across your face as you cuddled into your son.

"nah,jus' thinkin'." he shrugged.

"about?"

"-how good you gon' look wit' another one of my babies in you."

he leaned back with one arm spread across the headrest of the couch,a shit eating grin plastered across his face as he eyed you watching him,jaw dropped and spluttering for words.

"that's! no,connie.. i told you,that's not gon' happen again."

"what's not gon' happen? you lettin' me fuck you or gettin' you pregnant?" his grin only grew,head cocked at you with narrowed eyes,taking deep pleasure in catching every bit of your reaction.

"enough,connie!"

"gon' put another baby in you,yeah?"

you shook your head desperately,hot tears wetting your fresh lashes and cascading down your red cheeks. "no,,no—" he clamped a hand down over your mouth to stop your wailing,shushing you as he leaned down to press his lips to the back of his knuckles. the fog clouding your brain and the bruising snap of his hips had you convinced you could feel his plump lips brushing against your own as he spoke.

"shh,ma,you gon' wake him up."

your heavy-lidded eyes drifted to the sleeping figure of your son,wrapped up next to the two of you in the portable bassinet you insisted connie bought to transport your son between houses when the two of you split for the third - or fourth - time. shallow breaths were leaving his full,parted lips. you couldn't help but feel shame bubble inside you at the feeling of your wetness spread embarrassingly over connie's thighs while he drilled you.

you opted to close your eyes,leaning your head back with connie's hand muffling your cries. the bastard laughed at you,leaning back to readjust the angle at which he ploughed you,now using the hand against your jaw as leverage to his thrusts.

"you wan' a lil' girl this time,ma?"

you whined in response,pushing against his hips in a feeble attempt to get him to let up on your abused pussy.

"she gon' look jus' like you.. dios mio.. all pretty n' shit.."

he started to pant,pushing his thumb against your lips. you opened your mouth to him,too fucked out to deny him any longer. he pushed the digit flat against your tongue,allowing your lips to close around him while he tipped his head back,letting a loud groan out into the room.

you hummed around his thumb,pulling him toward you with a tight hand around the bone of his hip,tits almost smacking you in the face with the force of their bouncing as he sped up.

he brought his unoccupied hand from your waist to rub at your overstimulated clit,pouting his lips at the pure horror that wash over your face,"one more so i can fill you up n' i'm done,baby."

you felt your next climax crash through you almost immediately after he came in contact with your sore nub,too overstimulated to hold out against his teasing. he spilled inside you soon after,fucking his cum into you as he kissed at the fat of your cheek,doting on you after such aggressive sex.

his eyes moved to the side of his head to quietly check on your son,still soundly sleeping,while you fought against passing out and staying the night.

though,you eventually woke up to connie's aggravating snoring right in your ear and a heavy,tattooed arm slung over your waist.

soraphic 2k23 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

[immortalityriver]

can you please write how aged!up genya would act if reader was pregnant?

i looove these kinds of scenarios. anon didn't leave specifics so I'll make headcanons with scenarios described as small fanfics.

Aged!up (20) genya x pregnant gn!reader

Au: original/timeskip

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

he does his damnedest to make sure you're comfortable. he couldn't imagine having to carry a child for 9 months, much less give birth to one.

He's your shadow. Would you like to do laundry? he's helping you hang everything up on the line. dishes? he's already done them. Did you forget to grab something at the market? he'll be back in an hour.

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

you huffed, holding the clothing basket against yourself as you waddled out to the backyard to hang everything out to dry.

currently, you were at about 8 months. pretty far along in your pregnancy, even simple things became tedious, including chores.

you caught his eye.

"..hey! Let me help out with that!" and suddenly he's on his feet rushing after you.

"..Genya it's fine. I can do it myself." you chimed as you looked up at him as he took the basket from your hold.

"I know... but it's the least I can do. I let you do the dishes by yourself last time so you gotta let me help out now, right?" he looked at you with a softened gaze, already going to hang the clothes.

you knew he wouldn't take no for an answer, so you shook your head and joined him ".. Right. thank you, genya."

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

when you're near your due date, he begins to wonder more about the gender, names, sometimes he'd pass shops and he couldn't help but get a few things.

you discourage it, since you're both unsure about the gender. but you really can't stop him, it's sweet he's so involved.

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

"y/n!" his voice echoes through the home, and you drag yourself out of bed to go meet him

thats when you caught eye of the bag he was holding.

"..okay.. what'd you impulsively buy this time?" you smiled up at him, stifling a sigh, he really couldnt just wait until the baby was born?

"take a look." he held the bag outward, a big goofy lopsided smile on his face

you took the bag and peeked, finding a few toys, a stuffed animal and some clothes.

genya looked rather proud of himself, and you had to admit everything he picked out was adorable.

".. it's great, darling.. but do you have to bring back baby stuff every time you go out?"

".. it's not like i look for it or anything.. i swear it looks for me!" he raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes, pointing to himself

you shook your head "..uh-huh.. so baby clothes can get up and walk now?"

"totally."

"..did you even get what i sent you out for?"

"..." he stared at you, looking at the bag in your hand, then down at his own, where the other bag should've been.

"..shit!"

"..genya.."

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

and lastly, he's a generally affectionate guy. but when you're pregnant? he can't keep his hands off of you for even a second.

throughout the day it's constant kisses and hugs, and when bedtime rolls around he's stuck to you like he's a moth and you're a porch light.

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

you could practically feel him seeping into your pores. with the way his arms wrapped around you.

"..genya, it's too warm for this.." you muttered, sticking your legs out from under the blanket to get at least some relief

"..nonsense.." he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, giving you a slight squeeze. his warm breath fanning against your skin didn't help at all.

"..genyaaaa..!"

"sh. go to bed."

"don't shush me.. i'm carrying your child." you retorted, now it was just playful banter.

"pft.."

you could feel his smile growing against your neck, to which you rolled your eyes at.

"i can hardly sleep with you smothered against me anyways. can't you scoot at least a little?"

he turned you over to face him, backing a little to make room for your very swollen belly.

"what, you don't love me anymore?"

"nope. not at all. that's absolutely what it is."

he sighed at your sarcasm, leaning into you and giving you a short peck on the lips.

"..i love you."

"I love you too, genya. goodnight."

``end

[al1fers-haven]

Hear me out, Alastor x Vox's wife

Basically, the reader was married to Vox when alive and hated him but couldn't get a divorce. When she died, she went to heaven, but then fell and was found by Vox, who promptly forced her back into the wife role

But, one night, the reader runs away and meets Alastor, and she instantly bonds with him over a mutual hatred of Vox, which turns into them falling in love

Sorry if the idea is too harsh on Vox, just a scenario I've been thinking about for a while

NO! Don't be sorry love. Its absolutely perfect.

"Oh Deer,"

Alastor x Vox's Wife!Reader

Nothing could have prepared you for the pain you felt when falling. The harsh searing pain that enveloped you as you hit the ground and heard that snap. Tears stained your cheeks as you glared up at the heavens. Too focused on your anger and pain to take in your surroundings and where exactly you were. Demons stared as you stood up, a loud groan leaving your figure as the bright gold blood dripped down your back, the sticky substance sticking to your palms as you tried to wipe it off of you. Vox stopped in his tracks, eyes a bit wide as he saw you drag yourself down the street. Valentino looked back at the TV man before following his gaze with a confused look. "Y/n...?" You stopped in your tracks, looking over towards the TV man and scowling. "Y/n? Is that you? What are you doing down here-" You yelped, trying to move away from him. One of the wings on your back flares up and makes you yell. Breathing harshly as you stared at him.

"Stay the HELL away from me you- you vile demon!" You held your palms against the dragging wing. Sobs wracking your whole form.

"Y/n...It's me. It's your husband...Don't you recognize me?" Your eyes widened, pure hatred filling your brain as you stared at him. "You- You nasty man! You horrible human! You are awful!" Vox stared in shock, your true feelings about him now out in the open. "Y/n...you're hurt." He reached his hand out and Valentino walked up to the two of them. All eyes turned to the pitiful display. "Come home, love."

~!~

"Do you even understand what I'm telling you, woman? Get my coffee. And make it the right way." You flinched, eyes looking toward the ground as your eyebrows furrowed. A small scowl on your face.

"I should've divorced you before you died. You cunt." You let out a yelp as he grabbed the neck of the shirt you were wearing, trying to keep you to 'today's time he shoved you inside of a tight outfit you hated. "Oh? Well, why didn't you." You shoved the TV man off of you. Fixing your shirt. "Because I thought maybe, just maybe. You'd leave me for another woman so I could raise our child ALONE." Vox's TC screen glitched, walking up to you. "Don't you DARE bring her into this!" You poked his chest, puffing your own out to seem bigger. "You don't understand how happy I was to hear you had died in that shitty bar lounge you always sat in! How happy I was for her to get to live without your influence!" You stepped forward, making the man step back. "I raised her all on my own and until she died and I did a wonderful job! Thanks to you dying she didn't have to witness that boring excuse of a thing you called love!" He grabbed your hand and threw you to the ground. Huffing as he stared at you with wide eyes. You obviously hit a soft spot. His eyes softened for a moment. "It's such a shame she died so young." Your eyes burned, Vox's eyes looking down on you. Pitying you for the death of your daughter. "." You stood up, storming out of the room and running out of the building. Vox's head turned to hs associates. "When did you have a kid?" Valentino broke the silence.

You sat on one of the benches in the more secluded part of the city, Your wings tucked into your back as you sat next to the little antique shop. Sobs left your figure as you sat there. Unaware of what to do in a situation like this. It was like you were alive all over again, crying over the loss of normalcy when Vox had died. "Hm?" A red-haired man zipped through the radio behind you. Leaning against the staff in his hand as you stood up and wiped your eyes, "Do my eyes deceive me?" The static startled you, jumping a bit before turning around to see the man. "Oh." You blinked a couple times at the odd figure. Huffing as you ran a hand through your hair. "Alastor, right? Vox's horrible horrible enemy?" You crossed your arms, trying to make it seem like you still had some control in your life. "Yes! And you are his....Assistant?" He waved his hand a little bit, trying not to hit a sensitive spot and deal with more of your weeping.

"Ex-wife." He blinked a couple times, laughing and grabbing your Backpack so he could sit down and leave you a seat. "Oh? Do tell more." His smile was eerily comforting, a sigh left your figure as you sat down. Obviously still upset. "I left, like i should've when we were living." The words spat out like venom. Eyes narrowing in on the ground. "He was an ass sure but at first he at least tried to pretend he cared. Just like he did here. I fell, he pretended to care for me enough to get me to call him my husband again and then boom. It was back to the same abuse i got out of in our 30's." You leaned back. The radio demon's frequencies stopped for a moment so he could listen. Anything he could use against Vox was a wonderful addition, no matter the baggage it brought with it. "He beat you?" Alastor tilted his head, mildly amused with this information. "Sometimes, not hard but enough to hurt. Slapping, name-calling, kicking. Things that wouldn't leave too much of a mark." You turned towards him. His smile was a bit tense. "When I had our child, my baby girl he changed a bit. Tried pretending a bit more while I was pregnant with her. He seemed to care for her. but just not for me." Your eyebrows furrowed as you continued. "She died when she was 2. About a year after Vox died from alcohol poisoning in that stupid bar."

Alastor put a hand on your shoulder. Now listening intently. "I'm glad she didn't have to deal with his constant fucking whining." Alastor laughed at that, his eyes closing a bit as he nodded. "Why yes, I have noticed quite a bit that he has a knack for whining and crying." You laughed a bit, finally calming down. "My name is Y/n, by the way." Alastor nodded, sitting up straight before sighing. "I'm aware...Alastor." He shook your hand, watching you laugh a bit more. "Y'know he wanted to name our kid Murphy?" Alastor blinked a couple times before laughing more, shaking his head no. It must have been hours, the two of you laughing in the street at all of the stupid things Vox had done before and after he died. Alastor filled you in on all of the stuff he knew while you told him about simple things.

The two of you calmed down a little bit, a smile on both of your faces as you stared off. The radio demon stood up suddenly and reached for your hand. "Well! Why don't you come to the hotel with me! I'm sure Charlie would love a new girl there!" You looked up at him, chuckling nervously. "Well...I don't know about that Alastor." "Cmon! Just for a night hm? Then we can see if we can make a deal." You grabbed his hand and yelped, suddenly being inside a random hotel with a blonde girl staring.

"Alastor! You're back....who is this?" She pointed towards you, a nervous smile on your face as Alastor twirled you a bit. Your laughter filled the room as you stopped spinning and suddenly appeared inside of better clothing fitting your time, an older 1920s-1950s dress fitting you perfectly. "This darling is Y/n! She was in quite the pickle and after...awhile-" You jumped in, hands clasped in front of you in a polite way. "2 hours." Alastor shook his head. "And after some time of talking I convinced her to take a shot at redemption, dear charlie." Charlie squealed, grabbing your hands and hugging you tightly. (Nearly till you died again.) "Welcome to the hazbin hotel!! I'm so glad Alastor brought you here!" Angel stared confused, looking as Alastor let you readjust his tie . A couple blinked of surprise leaving his figure as you walked away and towards the group. Immediately recognizing angel. "Angel!" He blinked. Staring at you. "Mrs? What are you doing here?" He waved his hand as you hugged him, a small frown appearing on your lips. "I left, me and vox got into another argument and I blew up on him." Angel laughed, hugging you again and sighing. "I wish I was there to see that asshole's face! Did'ya give him hell?!" You nodded excitedly. Looking around and taking a deep breath. "Oh, it feels good to be free again! Oh, how can I thank you Alastor!" Husker stiffened in his place, everyone expecting him to ask for her soul. "Perhaps you can tell me more about your dear ex-husband, hm? Seems like we didn't finish our little chat earlier dear." "Oh! Of course! You're such an angel puddin'! Oh, this is going to be so fun!"

[thevoidstaredback]

Honestly, Danny doesn't know how he gets into these situations. It's probably the fault of a deity or an Ancient or someone. It's most definitely Clockwork's fault.

Going on that mission with Constantine sounded like a good idea at the time, and Raven was going to be there! She's the best impulse control on the team. He realizes he should've clarified why Raven was going with them. Evidently, it was not to help or be impulse control for the Ghost King and the Alcoholic Soul Whore. (Don't tell Constantine that's his nickname) Raven was going along because she had business at Titan Tower. It should've been obvious, but Danny is not the most observant.

Either way, he was wrong. He thought going on this mission with John - there was a demon running around an apartment building and people were, apparently, quite upset about that - would deter the Justice League from hounding him like roaches. He was right about that, but also very wrong because the proteges took the opportunity to sniff him out like the bloodhounds they are. Unsurprisingly, Red Robin was at the head of the charge.

Raven, the traitor, sat back and laughed at him. She wasn't laughing, but it was obvious that she found his misery amusing.

Anyway, this lead to a citywide hunt for Danny. Anytime he spotted even a hint of any of the Titans chasing him, he was gone. He couldn't stray too far from Constantine, though, and Beast Boy had a nose like a damn elephant.

The chase lasted a solid three hours before he had to let them catch him, if only so that he could tell them to leave him alone because he's there on official JLD business. Not like that would actually work, but he had hope. Unfortunately, he forgot that Red Robin is Bat Trained.

Danny took a second for himself before the Titans caught up with him. Was this really better than Deadman harassing him about his first time in Gotham? No, it wasn't. It wasn't any worse, either, and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"Are you finally done running?" Red Robin asked, landing in a crouch in front of him.

Danny folded his legs to sit criss-cross in the air as the rest of the kids that had been chasing him joined RR. "You make it sound like I'm a criminal."

"You ran like one," Beast Boy pointed out. Fair, but rude. "And, dude, I don't know if you know this, but you smell horrible."

Danny placed a hand on his chest with a dramatic gasp. "How dare you! I took a shower just last week!"

Raven was now unamused.

Superboy gagged a bit. "He's right," A small shudder. "I couldn't smell it before, but I can now that you're so close to me."

He sighed with equal dramatics as his gasp. "I guess I can never get rid of the smell, even after all this time."

Wonder Girl tilted her head to the side slightly. "Oh? And what smell would that be?"

"The smell of death," John Constantine, ever a man of impeccable timing, turned onto the side street to join them. He largely ignored the kids in favor of the ghost child who isn't actually a child but no one listens to him when he explains that so he's probably going to stop trying. "It lingers. C'mon, kid, we've got a demon to exorcise."

Danny huffed like a petulant child, "Still not a kid!"

Constantine continued walking away. "Still don't care."

Part 4 Part 6

Tag List:

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[httpwintersoldier]

『jolly sailor bold. || shanks x reader』

[PART 1 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - SHANKS VER.

[BUGGY VER.] [MIHAWK VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: shanks x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your curse leads you to a certain red-haired pirate that ends up taking you hostage for the rest of your life. And you very much agree with the decision. angst; smut; fluff.

You had been cursed as a young child. A devil fruit user with the ability of merging whatever they had in sight had taken you from your mother and merged you with a fish. A cruel revenge plan taken out on an innocent child that was made to forever swim the ocean.

That had obviously changed you, in more ways than physical. You couldn't establish contact with other fish, you couldn't make friends with humans (who thought you were a freak and a monster) and there were no other merefolk (not to your knowledge, at least.

The insanity of the lonely life had taken a toll on you. You had begun luring in lonely pirates and seamen, only to tear them apart and eat them before they realized you weren't human and tried to hunt you.

It had been going on for decades, although your body seemed to not age at all, more parts seemed to be growing in. At first it was just the long, scaly tail that had almost of a metallic blue and green shine to it. Then your eyes fully shifted to a charcoal black colour, and your hair followed suit. And, in the past years, your arms grew fins and your fingers grew webbing, both a pale green colour.

Your years of solitude were cut short when you found a certain red haired pirate.

The top of your head was above the water as you watched the ship. The captain had only one arm and three scars on his left eye. He seemed pretty goofy, along with the rest of the crew. You almost felt bad for killing them. Almost.

You dove down into the cold sea, scratching the bottom of the ship with your nails that were borderline claws at that point, until you found a tall, wide rock in the direction the boat was headed.

You sat on the rock, in such a way that it would hide your tail as best as possible, and began singing with your enchanting voice.

"My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold..."

You could hear a ruckus coming from the ship, several feet running on the old, creaking boards of the deck, and soon saw a plethora of men (dinner) standing on the edge, looking at you.

"...there is nothing can console me, but my Jolly Sailor bold..."

You heard more feet scaterring and several voices yelling "Behold Man!" and you smirked devilishly.

As the ship approached, the red haired male you had seen before jumped on the rock you sat on. Big mistake. He knelt down a couple steps away from you.

"Hello little lady, what are you doing here? Are you injured?" The man asked, with a deep voice.

You looked at him through your eyebrows and smirked.

"No, but you're about to be." You replied in a husky voice.

You lunged at the man, taking him under water with you so his mates wouldn't attack you and, as you dragged the male down to drown him, you made the mistake of looking him in the eye. And, as you did so, you felt yourself falter, and your body getting weaker, and weaker. Your eyelids began shutting against their will, and you saw black as your body went limp.

When you woke up, you were startled. Once you found you could, you opened your eyes widely and began struggling, looking for the man you'd caught who should've been floating somewhere next to you, only to find that you were stuck in some sort of wooden tub, your long tail hanging out of it.

You felt as if something was weighing on your chest and you couldn't breathe. Panic. You were panicking. Last time you felt that way you were being thrown in the water by your mother.

"You're awake." A deep voice said beside you.

You carefully looked to the side to find the red haired man you had taken into the sea with you.

"Who... who are you?... Why am I here? How am I here?..." You asked, more to yourself than him, with a dry throat.

You coughed after you did so, and the man handed you water. You looked at the glass carefully, not trusting it. The red haired male sighed and rolled his eyes as he took the cup and sipped on it, to show it wasn't poisoned, before handing back to you.

"I'm Shanks. I'm the Captain of the ship. The "why" would be because you tried to kill me. As for the how... let's just say I'm good at persuading people."

You laughed, after drinking the whole cup in one go.

"Sometimes girls get hungry..." You said, biting your lip.

Shanks simply scoffed.

"You are brave, for someone who's in your position to be talking that way..."

"What can I say..." You shrugged.

There was silence, as Shanks admired your body.

"What are you anyway?..." He asked, leaning closer on the tub.

The way he came closer to you showed how unafraid he was of you, of your... exquisite body, so to speak. That was new, you quite enjoyed it, had he not taken you captive.

"Call it a freak of nature, if you will." You replied, as you shrugged

After the man pressed you once more about your origins and anatomy, you decided to answer truthfully.

"I was cursed. Well, that's the cool way of putting it... Some weird Devil Fruit user has the ability to merge stuff together, be it dead, inanimate or alive. I was the result of an affair, from what I could gather in the fight between this woman and my mom. The wife of the man my mom had an affair with found her and decided to punish her by merging me with a fish I guess... In the beginning it was just small changes, some gills and scales, had to spend a lot of time in the bathub but nothing too hard, so my mom attempted to raise me like this. She gave up when the tail began to develop and threw me in the ocean..."

Shanks' eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were set on your fish-like characteristics as he heard your explanation.

"And you resorted to eating humans?..."

You shrugged once more. It was your go-to answer, it seemed. No better way to show indifference.

"It's either humans or fish. Both of them are part of me, but only one of them cursed me, then cast me away and treated me as a monster."

"But not all humans are to blame for your... curse." The man tried to reason.

"I was also not to blame for my mother's mistakes. Yet here we are." You replied quickly, looking him in the eye with your orbs, devoid of any colour.

Shanks sighed and slapped his thighs as he stood up.

"Hey! Wait!" You semi-yelled, making Shanks stop and turn around "What's to happen to me? What will you do with me?"

"Seems like there is only one thing to do..." He said, sighing and placing his hand on his hip "We'll find the Devil Fruit user and get them to undo this."

Your eyes shined for a moment and your face lit up, before reminding yourself that the race you were talking to was untrustworthy, and the cold expression that was so familiar to you returned to your faced.

"Why. What's in it for you? Aren't you going to sell me to some freak show? Or keep me as a pet?"

Shanks sighed again.

"The only freak show master I know doesn't have me in great consideration, and you talk too much to be a pet and are not that useful." Ouch. "It seems like we'd be saving a lot of lives by helping you. Including your own."

He didn't give you time to reply, as the Captain left the room and closed the door.

You huffed, and relaxed in the tub, realizing that you had been tense this whole time. There was nothing you could do but trust these men now... It was nearly impossible for you to hop out of the tub and drag yourself out on the deck and into the ocean without being heard or seen flopping around, and the porthole next to you was far too small for you to fit through it...

As the sun set and darkness enveloped the room, the red haired man stepped in with a light being held by his mouth and a tray on his hand.

"Do you usually carry stuff with you mouth?" You joke with a teasing smirk.

The man set down the light and the tray, and pushed back the cape to reveal he had only one arm.

You felt embarrassed for a second, but wouldn't let it show (obviously).

"Seems like someone got to you before me." You joked with a simpathetic smile.

The man let out a belly laugh and picked up the tray again, handing it to you.

"You're a cheeky one for sure..." The captain commented and sat on a chair in the corner of the room.

You stared at the tray, it was some sort of meat you obviously didn't recognize and bread.

"This is what?" You asked, a little disgusted, pointing at the sead animal in front of you.

"It's chicken legs. You know, food from an animal that isn't either part of you." The man joked with a smile, pointing between your human torso and fish tail, and you laughed a little.

You picked it up carefully and examined it. You gave up the poison suspicions, if he wanted to kill you he would've done so. You took a small bite, waiting for a nasty taste to hit your tongue, but surprisingly you found it delicious. You widened your eyes and looked at him in shock, before devouring the meal in front of you.

"I take it you enjoyed the food?" Shanks asks with a chuckle, as he raised his eyebrows.

"It was edible." You replied jokingly, licking your fingers.

After taking the tray, the man remained in the room, surprisingly.

"You're staying?" You asked, cocking your head and blinking rapidly, as your eyes were used to a lot more moisture.

"Well, only one person keeps guard at night and I don't quite trust you to not go out there and kill him. I think I'm the only one that can take care of you." He said and winked.

You felt hot. Why did you feel hot? The bath water was cold. Just as you thought about his wink, you shivered.

Shanks raised an eyebrow and looked at the water.

"Is it too cold?"

Before you could reply, he stood up and dipped his hand in the water. Having his hand so close to you... So close to touching your body... It sent a strange feeling through your body, and you didn't know how to react.

"It's... fine. We don't have heaters in the ocean."

Shanks knelt down next to the tub so he could be face-to-face with you.

"Yeah, but you also don't have still water. That," he said, pointing at the water you sat in "will get pretty disgusting if it's not changed, unlike the ocean."

You looked at the water and it was safe to say the man was right. The sediments entagled in your gills and scales from sleeping on the sand, as well as some algae that had gotten stuck to you began staining the water as it cleaned you.

Shanks, realizing you had silently agreed with him, laid a towel on the ground and picked you up over his shoulder. You shrieked and grabbed onto his shirt, not being used to being carried (or manhandled). The captain slowly placed you on the towel, and you watched as he cleaned the tub and replaced the dirty water.

"Why are you going through all of this trouble? It doesn't make sense. What's in it for you?" You asked, seemingly getting defensive all of the sudden.

Shanks scoffed and looked over his shoulder as he worked.

"You have to stop thinking there's something in it for me, sweetheart. I just think you haven't been given a fair chance. Before labeling you as anything, I want to make sure you have a fair chance to become the person you think you should be."

You were out of words. Apologies and "thank you's" were not your strong suit, so you kept quiet. The captain took the lack of response as acceptance, and finished the job.

You could very easily flop back into the tub - you had been climbing up rocks and jumping from them all your life, after all - but you enjoyed it when Shanks picked you up and laid you down in such a careful way, so you didn't protest.

You spent the next three months of the search for the Devil Fruit user listening intently to Shanks' pirate stories and (unconsciously) fawning over him every night when he came to watch over you.

After the first month he trusted you to stay alone, but he woudn't leave you. He'd rather have your company. The Captain loved the way your big eyes shined as you looked at him, paying attention to every of his words.

Both your feelings were very obvious, and had anyone been in the room with the two of you they would've called you out on it. But that was the best part of your "sessions": it felt like a secret. It felt so intimate, it was honestly ironic how either of you failed to realize how infatuated you were with each other.

"Y/N!" The Captain said happily as he walked in the room and knelt down next to the tub.

You crossed your arms on the edge of the tub and laid your head on them.

"Yes, Captain?"

You had began calling him Captain as a joke, but he not-so-secretly loved it, and it showed: he couldn't keep the big, stupid smile off of his face whenever he heard you call him Captain.

"We found her!" The man said, holding your face with his hand "We found the devil fruit user!"

A wave of emotions washed over you. First you were happy, ecstatic even. But then came the panic, fear, uncertainty... And it showed.

"Y/N, what's wrong? You look... disappointed?" Shanks asked, not quite sure how to decipher your look.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn't know what to say or how to express what you were feeling - it was all brand new. Thankfully, Shanks gave you time.

"I just..." you started "I don't know. What will happen next? I don't know how to live among people, will I even like it? Will I even be able to walk? Will I miss the sea?" Tears streamed down your face and you were in a panicked state as you thought of all things that could go wrong.

Shanks hugged you and caressed your semi-wet hair.

"Sweetheart," you learned to love that nickname, it always put you at ease "I can't force you to go back to who you were, but I think you'd be infinitely happier on land, with people to talk to, with people to have fun with, with... someone to love." Shanks' voice brokw a little, as he thought of you living happily side by side with someone that wasn't him, but he cleared his throat and carried on "You can always choose to swim in the sea, and you can choose to walk on land and live as you were made to. I know it must be scary, all change is scary, but you won't have to be alone anymore"

By the time he finished, your heart was beating fast for different reasons and your breathing had calmed down.

When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were mere centimiters apart. You could both feel the tension and the attraction, but none of you dared move. You were almost sure you were both feeling the same.

"What do you say, Y/N?" He whispered.

You smiled widely and nodded.

"Let's do it."

The next few days of sailing were intense and overcome with emotion, but it wasn't long after your conversation with Shanks that the red-haired man came in with a big smile. He didn't even bother grabbing a towel - he was far too excited for that. The man picked you up, not caring that he got drenched in tub water, and carried you out to the deck.

The sun hurt your eyes and it took you a while to get accostumed, but the strangest part was Shanks.

"Do it." He said, turned to someone you could not see since you were still flung over his shoulder.

His voice was cold, demanding and soulless. You had never heard it this way, and you had a hard time assimilating that it was, in fact, the Shanks that you knew (and loved).

There was a long silence, it seemed like no one dared move, speak or breathe.

Suddenly, a woman cleared her throat, and you felt as if your body was being ripped apart. You gripped Shanks' back and tried not to make noise, but you couldn't help the toe-curling scream that left your mouth.

You could feel your legs slowly separating, and after a few excruciating minutes your body fell to the ground weakly.

"Y/N! Y/N?" Shanks called, hovering over you and cupping your cheek.

You opened my eyes and looked down at your legs, arms and hands.

"Legs!" You yelled happily and looked up at Shanks "Shanks I have legs!"

Shanks wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around.

"Shit! It worked!" He said, looking at your face, still holding you up by the waist, as he was afraid you wouldn't be able to stand on your legs just yet.

As he looked down, Shanks realized you were (obviously) naked, and that your body was glued to his. The Captain blushed and fought off any... improper thoughts - he surely wished he had brought the towel.

The man cleared his throat and wrapped his cape around you as he carried you inside and ordered his crew to escort the Devil Fruit user back to the port.

Shanks sat you on a chair on his room and looked through his drawers for some clean clothes,

"Uh here- this ought to fit you."

His cheeks were red (as were yours) and he looked away as you put on his large shirt and a pair of loose pants.

"Can you walk?" The Captain asked.

You gripped the sides of the chair nervously.

"I don't... I don't know."

Shanks silently held out his hand, inviting you to try. You took it and slowly stood up. Your legs were a little wobbly and your walk was a little unsure and weak, but you sure could still do it. Muscle memory from before-fish-time, you assumed.

"I did it!" You said, wrapping your arms around him.

"You did it!" He cheered as well, wrapping his arm around your waist.

When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were close, and after all those years of luring men, you had never wanted to kiss one until Shanks came along.

"Now you can go resume your life back in your hometown!" The man said with a smile.

You stumbled away from him, suddenly finding the strenght to stand on your own.

"What?" You asked, incredulous.

"You can... go! You can live your life again, Y/N." He repeated, not understanding your reaction.

You scoffed, hurt and disappointed. You'd think that after spending every single night together for three months the reaction would be different. You thought Shanks felt the same about you, you thought he'd pick you up, spin you around, kiss you and ask you to stay on the ship, but no. The second you took a couple steps, he was ready to send you on your way.

"Yeah. That's probably best if I go. I'll leave right away."

You turned around, exited the room and slammed the door shut, leaving a confused Shanks behind. You wobbled away as fast as you could, using the walls of the ship as help, persistently fighting off the tears.

"Y/N! Wait! You're leaving now?" He asked, chasing after you.

"Well you want me gone! Might as well start now!" You said while walking.

Shanks grabbed your wrist and you tried to free yourself from it, but his grasp was firm.

"Y/N can we- Y/N can you stop struggling please? Y/N-" When the Captain got tired of asking, he picked you up and brought you to his room, throwing you on the bed as he closed the door with his foot.

"What is wrong with you!?" He roared, looking down at you with a look you couldn't decipher.

You stood up weakly.

"What's wrong with me!? What's wrong with you!" You countered, looking at him with the same mix of emotions running through you.

"Me!? I got you your body back! I freed you! And all I get is a cold shoulder and not even a goodbye? Maybe you are a cold hearted monster after all!"

Silence.

Silence as those words hit you like a brick and Shanks realized what had left his mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably for the first time in over a decade.

"Y/N-"

He was cut off by you trying to reach the door without another word. The Captain stood between you and the door.

"Y/N please I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"Let me leave! Let me leave! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, banging on his chest with closed fists out of frustration.

"Please Y/N, I'm begging you! I'm- I'm sorry! I was hurt!"

"Oh you were hurt? That's rich!" You said, laughing cynically.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, more calmly.

You stumbled backwards and let yourself fall on the bed, sitting down since you weren't used to standing for long.

"You spent three months with me, every night. You were the only person I ever shared anything with. And then the first chance you get... You want me to leave? To send me away? I-Is that all I am? A project?"

Shanks knelt in front of you, taking your face in his hand like he had done many times before, but this time, it held a completely different meaning.

"Y/N... Is that what you think? You genuinely think I want you to go?" His thumb wiped your tears as he looked into your glossy eyes.

"You... don't? Then why did you say that?..."

Shanks chuckled and looked away for a second before looking back at you.

"Y/N, I want you to stay by my side every day until I die of some stupid reason." You and him cracked a smile at the small joke "I obviously didn't want you to leave, never did. I dreaded this day because I thought you'd want to leave... to be free to explore, find yourself and finally get out of this ship."

You cupped his face gently and felt him lean into your touch.

"Shanks... this is my home. You're my home. Plus, what better placed to explore in than a fucking ship!" I said with a smile and laughed.

Shanks retributed the smile, twice as big, and laughed as well.

"Hey little lady! Language!" He jokingly told you off.

You stared into each other's eyes as your heads tilted ever so slightly. That was the moment. It felt right. It felt perfect.

Your lips touched slightly, and you pulled away just as quickly, trying to process the moment. But when you realized how much you wanted it, how much you needed it, you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him closer, smashing your lips together. The kiss was rough and passionate, full of emotion.

"Princess I planned on taking it slow, but if you keep this up I won't be able to hold back much longer." Shanks whispered as he left sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Don't hold back. I want to feel everything I've been missing out on." You moaned.

"Well in that case," Shanks paused, as he manhandled you to lay on the bed and spread your legs so he could hover over you "let's give the crew something to complain about, shall we?"

The Captain didn't wait for your response, he simply captured your lips in a rough kiss once more and yanked down the pants you were wearing. His fingers slowly travelled down your body and parted your folds. You watched as he then took them up to his mouth and licked them clean.

"Who knew you'd still be this wet outside of the water?"

You blushed and rolled your eyes with a smile at the cheeky jokes you'd come to love.

Shanks removed his cape and shirt, and then kissed down your body, slightly pushing up the shirt you wore to reach your stomach. He pondered on removing the shirt, but decided against it - the Captain thought you'd look good being fucked in his shirt.

He toyed around your pussy, biting and kissing several spots on your inner thighs until you were moaning desperately.

"Please touch me there Shanks..." You begged.

That was his cue to begin eating you out like a hungry man. You didn't even know how to describe the feeling, but that didn't stop you from trying.

"F-fuck! That's so good Shanks- so good!" You moaned, as one of your hands gripped his sheets and the other tugged on his hair.

He moaned at the feeling of his hair being pulled and you swore the vibrations made it even better.

Shanks slapped your inner thigh and gripped it over and over, and you could feel something in the pit of your stomach forming.

"Oh shit-" You moaned.

Your breathing accelerated and your eyes closed as your back arched, preparing for whatever was coming.

When suddenly Shanks' mouth pulled away.

"What did you do that for?" You whined, looking at him through your lashes.

Shanks hovered over you and kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you both moaned into each other's mouths.

"If you're going to cum for the first time sweetheart, you're doing it on my cock."

His hand expertly pulled his cock out, and you whimper-gasped when you felt it hit your pussy.

You looked down at it and widened your eyes.

Shanks laughed and caressed your cheek.

"You okay there, princess?" The Captain asked as he ran the tip of his cock along your folds, making you hiss.

"I'm- I have mixed feelings. Is all that going in me? And it feels good?"

Shanks chuckled and pecked your lips.

"I'll go slow, doll. If it doesn't feel good, you tell me, okay?"

You nodded, giving him the greenlight.

Shanks pushed into you, very slowly, carefully watching your face through the whole thing, until he bottomed out inside you.

"How you doing, dollface?" The man asked.

He wanted nothing more than to ram into you until the only word you could say was his name, but the man was patient.

"It feels... odd. But good. K-keep going." You said, suddenly feeling hot and shy.

Shanks slowly moved in and out of you, finding a merciful pace to fuck you in. His hand found your ass, that he gripped as tightly as he could without hurting you, taking out some of the frustration of not being able to fuck you as he wanted.

It became especially hard when you began tightening around his cock and moaning his name.

"Go faster, please-"

Those words were the only thing he wanted to hear. Shanks slapped the aprt of your ass he could reach from that position and steadily picked up the pace in which he fucked you.

"S-shit this is so fucking good Shanks!"

Your praises and moans were the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and the man wanted to hold on as long as he could, to listen to them as long as possible.

The way his shirt looked on you while he fucked you was an even bigger ego-boost for him. You looked his, you looked like you belonged to him. Wearing his shirt, on his bed, with his cock buried deep in you... Fuck, it was a sight to see.

He bent over as he fucked you, his hand grabbing the base of your neck as his lips left sloppy kisses and small bites all over it.

"I wanna fuck you dumb. I wanna fuck your pretty little pussy so hard Y/N."

You didn't know how much you enjoyed dirty talking until you heard him whisper those words to you, and the most sinful moan left your mouth.

"Do it! Shit- fuck!" You cursed as he fucked you at an impossible pace.

Skin slapping and squelching sounds filled the room along with your moans and groans, and the familiar feeling at the pit of your stomach returned. You had no way of knowing you were about to cum so you couldn't warn your partner, but Shanks knew. From the way your back arched once more, and your hand gripped the wrist that was gripping your thigh, he knew you were close.

Shanks tried to hold off his orgasm as long as possible, and it was painful but oh so worth it. Your pleasure-filled face, mouth agape followed by the incessant calls for his name in the form of moans... it was art.

He came right after, burying his cock deep in you, making sure it all stayed in. His mark.

The Captain pulled out of you with a groan and plopped next to you. You waited no time to roll over and lay your head on his chest, swinging your leg over one of his as he wrapped his arm around you, his hand laying on your butt softly.

"I don't think I'll be able to walk for a different reason now..." You said, smiling up at him.

"Hey you're getting good at making corny jokes like me!"

You laughed together, then a deep silence ensued.

"Shanks... did you mean that?"

He cocked his head slightly.

"About what? Wanting to fuck you dumb? Oh very much!"

You laughed and slapped his chest.

"No! About... really wanting me here... by your side."

Shanks smiled as he looked at you fondly and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"If you promise to tolerate me, I'd like to have you by my side until the end of my days."

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[osamucide]

FLAVOR PROFILE—afab+gn!reader, angst and comfort??? smoking, alcohol, established friendship, feelings, f!masturbation, loss of virginity, body worship, biting, scratching, tiniest hint of corruption (there should've been more I’m sorry) and possessive aku, praise, fingering, penetration, creampie

ABV—6.1k

BAR OSAMUCIDE IS STRICTLY AN 18+ ESTABLISHMENT. FAILURE TO PROVIDE VALID ID/AGE IN BIO UPON INTERACTING WILL RESULT IN REMOVAL FROM THE PREMISES. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

"Really?"

He can't believe you're laughing at him. You swear you're not—you've sworn twice now. He just sighs and snatches your cigarette from you.

"I just kind of can't believe it, Ryuu," you rationalize, pressing your shoulder against his. "I'm not, I promise. I'm not laughing because it's funny. Just surprised, that's all."

Surprised, sure, alright. Look at me, he wants to spit at you, but he's hacking from holding the smoke in his lungs just a moment too long and so you work the dart from his fingers and tuck it back between your lips as he rights himself.

Akutagawa crosses his arms, not unlike a pouting child, and fixes his eyes on the brick wall across from you both and the one you lean back on as you're sat atop some wooden crate, one long discarded after a weapons shipment or whatever else. He can't help but feel a little small beneath your reaction, but you resume issuing soft kicks to the gravel beneath your feet like it was nothing—like you hadn't just drawn probably one of the most humiliating confessions out of him. He never really gave a second thought to all that before you came around, but now that he's beside you, elbows crossed over his knees as he draws them closer to himself, he suddenly feels like he should've before.

You finish your cigarette in silence, pointedly not moving away from him.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, sincerely as you chuck the butt to the ground in front of you. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable." But he still doesn't look at you. Akutagawa's dealing with more than one predicament at the present moment and he needs to sort them before he can turn his attention back to you.

One—he doesn't know if it would've been more or less attractive, or maybe repulsive, if he could've said, yeah, I've fucked plenty of people before, or at least I've fucked someone, and Akutagawa's aware he's a lot of filthy things, but apparently he's neither a liar nor a whore, and it leads him right to his second predicament, which is this: why does he care whether you find him attractive or repulsive?

How long has he care what you think of him at all? And last: what does it mean, that he does?

It's that last one that his thoughts get snagged on.

You tap your foot beneath you. This alleyway is where you always drag him off to when you feel like getting away from work. He can hardly remember the last time he said no to you when it came to escaping Mori's iron rule for an hour or so. But he wishes he would've today, kind of like he wishes he would've skipped the only other time he can recall wishing to have skipped—the day you let him smoke one of your cigarettes.

It's funny how your conversation from that day parallels the exchange from minutes ago. It sticks in his mind right now. You, at least two years younger and having known him on a much more superficial level than you do now, had laughed a little; it makes him feel only marginally better about you laughing now. Even then you were reassuring him, not because it's funny, but just because—I don't know, that's what I do when I’m surprised, I guess. He's always envied your ability to find joy in small things like that, after all.

You didn't make him feel small just now. He finds ways to do that all on his own; he knows that. He must've been weak back then because he'd inhaled less tar than you, and he hated that, so he did it when you offered. But now, here he was. You know he's never even kissed anyone, let alone fucked. The sensical pattern, thinking back to that day when you tapped a cigarette out of your pack for him, lit it off your own, good-naturedly patted his back as the coughs raged out of him because he inhaled it all down way too fast for someone with clean lungs—

Where exactly would that lead now, logically?

It's not like he's never thought about it. But you don't need to know that.

Akutagawa turns his his head away from you, chin on his arms. He can feel his face burn. He won't let you see.

But he knows you now, and you know him. And he knows you'll offer anyway.

You sit in silence, maybe ten minutes more, kicking the ground and letting your eyes flutter open and shut, before you pull another smoke out of your pack and stick it in your mouth.

“Well,” you mumble as your lighter flicks, “If you wanna change that…”

He doesn’t move. He can still feel the crate trembling from how you tap your foot, which is good, because he’s a little restless himself. You draw off your cigarette; he sees the smoke dissipate in his peripheral as your head falls back to rest on the brick. What he doesn’t see is your little half-smirk, but he knows it’s there.

It’s not that Akutagawa doesn’t like you. Anyone that knows him well can probably see he likes you, or at least tolerates you—he lets you drag him here week after week, shift after shift, after all. He gives you grace, even if it’s small, when you fuck up on jobs—something he never gives to anyone else, hardly even Chuuya. He doesn’t flinch or swat you away when you absentmindedly pull him in some direction by his elbow or his wrist; he doesn’t scoff at you when you lean up against him, like you are right now, and shift away from you or push you off like he might even with Gin. To someone who doesn’t know him, he probably looks indifferent to you at worst, and indifference and tolerance, and maybe even liking, tend to go hand-in-hand when it comes to the wielder of Rashoumon. He’s not outright evil to you, and that’s enough—if for no one else, for you. But you know him by now.

And because you know him, you know what he’ll say next.

“No.”

And it’s not because he doesn’t like you, which is why you’ll do what you do next, and he knows you will because he knows you, too, by now—enough to maybe like you—you’ll press him.

“Aw, why not?” It drawls out of you lightheartedly, almost jokingly.

It might have something to do with the fact that you’ve never looked at him with fear, disgust, or hatred in your eyes—not even before you knew one another so well and he would regularly, in response to your antics, threaten to beat you to a pulp with his black beast. It might have something to do with how you seem to look right through him like that, and then inadvertently boost his ego by telling him you think he totally has the capacity to be cool, or even normal, doing things like fucking and smoking cigarettes. He wants to laugh at how silly it all sounds to him. Akutagawa’s never been good at letting himself understand why you make him feel the way you do. Why he deserves your kindness or companionship. Why you can’t see him for what he is: a war machine, configured from birth, far beyond—or maybe beneath—any sort of semblance of a normal destiny that includes indulgence. Love. It would make him respect you less, hate you, maybe, if it wasn’t so secretly pleasant, the fact that you don’t look at him like that. The fact that you seem to think he does deserve something more than misery.

I have a feeling this is gonna be a long partnership, so it’d be a lot more fun if you smoked! You said that the day you were assigned to each other, before you knew about his lung condition, and he knew he shouldn’t have ever accepted your offer that day in this very alleyway because he ended up liking the head high cigarettes gave him, even if it was horrible for him.

The same way he likes you, and it makes him unbearably soft. The same way he’d probably like kissing you. Fucking you. Another thing that’ll kill him one day, one way or another. He knows if he gets any closer than he is, and then for some reason you leave—die, run away, decide your relationship is awkward now and he’s horrible and you hate him, whatever—it’d kill him, undoubtedly. Better not to smoke the cigarette. Better not to fuck the only real friend he thinks he’s had since he was watching his back every moment he lived in the slums. Anything that felt good was almost certainly a trap laid to hurt him.

“Because,” he huffs.

If for sole annoyance or disgust, he would’ve bitched you out. But he doesn’t. You note this. So, you let it go. Because you know him.

“Alright,” you sigh. Not disappointed, not dismissive. Just affirming and understanding. It blows his mind all over again. He doesn't move, doesn't look at you. "Well, I suppose we should get back." Your eyes flick to your wristwatch. "Kouyou wanted us for something in about a half hour."

Some silly meeting in some bar. Chuuya's not there to keep her from getting off topic, so Akutagawa sits beneath the low light (on the edge of the booth, thank god), you next to him, while your superior's ordering another round of whisky sodas for the table.

When Kouyou distributes the drinks, Akutagawa slides his toward you, which you then slide to the man on your other side. His name's Shota—one of Chuuya's subordinates—and he takes it off your hands happily. You nestle your own between your hands on the tabletop.

"But as I was saying," the scarlet-haired woman continues, "it's going to have to happen over the weekend. I don't think it's wise to do anything until Nakahara's back from Tokyo, which will be Friday at the earliest, and the tracking number for the Makarov shipment on its way in got thrown in the trash so Hirotsu's going to have to..."

Akutagawa's gaze trains steadily on your hands; his own are busy, one propping his chin up, the other circling rings over the rim of his first and only glass, now empty. It's not out of the ordinary for him to tune out of Kouyou's tipsy ramblings, especially when Chuuya will be back in a few days to explain the game plan concisely and soberly. What is out of the ordinary is that he's still stiff, thinking about your conversation from the alleyway and the tone in which you so nonchalantly cooed aw, why not? Almost as if you'd been a little disappointed when he said no, he wouldn't take you up on your offer. Were you? He has to doubt it. You've always been a little too eager to get him fucked up on Chuuya's wine, drag him out of work, pull him out of his comfort zone—he'd seen the unmistakable excitement on your face the first time you'd jammed a cigarette between his lips. But that is way too far out of his wheelhouse, and he's pretty sure you both know it.

Even if he does keep thinking about it.

You, well—you sip your second whisky and take note of his fidgeting. Although your drink’s only half gone, you tap your foot against his, glancing between him and the door; he looks at you, then back down at his empty glass, clears his throat and nods ever so subtly. Code exhcange for I'm bored, wanna leave? Of course. So when the conversation lulls, you both stand.

"Kazuha has us at eight-thirty," you explain, bidding everyone good evening and seeing yourselves out the door before anyone has the chance to ask what for.

"Kazuha? That was the best lie you could come up with?"

"Are we still sitting in there or not?" you refute, cigarette dangling from your mouth as you walk with your hands behind your head in the direction of headquarters. "Can't wait to get home."

"Yeah, after your hard day," Akutagawa mutters.

"Hey, watch it," you poke. "I moved shit all morning. Need a shower bad."

Which is exactly what you do after you depart from your partner and scamper up to your apartment. But first you take the liberty of lighting a few candles, cracking your bathroom window for a breeze, dancing around to a little music as a bath full of lavender salts warms, and rubbing out your sore knees with that pain relief oil Higuchi recommended to you. It's true, you did spend all morning getting shipments from the port; the less luxurious side of the life and work of a mafioso moving their way up the ladder isn't something you're unfamiliar with, although you do it less now.

You settle in, sighing. Maybe it's wrong to still be thinking about it, but you had sort of hoped Akutagawa would take to your little quip earlier with at least a hint of curiosity, or bring it up on your walk home even if just to tell you how absurd it was that you'd even think such a thing; perhaps you should've been more deliberate, you think. Or maybe it's a good thing that you weren't. He's one of the last people you'd want to make things weird with—outside of being the (rather oblivious) object of your affection, he's still your coworker and, as of recent years, very best friend. Somewhat of a literal partner in crime. You snicker at that as your shoulders dip below the water. You momentarily debate trying to dismiss your little feelings for the night, and you will, for the most part—but while you're relieving physical tension under the soft flicker of your candles and the hum of the city below you, you figure you might as well dispel your disappointment, too, and you trace your fingers down the curve of your hip to find yourself wet in a way that has nothing to do with the water.

Meanwhile, Akutagawa is pacing his living quarters. He's already taken a cold shower to stave off what has only become more difficult not to think about now that you're gone—he doesn't have to hold it together for you or anyone, and he finds himself trying to sit still on the edge of his bed as his phone sits a few feet away on the nightstand. Should he text you about it? Call you? Fuck that—you do a fine job of flustering him when you're barely trying, but if he let you know—god, if he let you know, he'd never hear the end of it. Text or call you to talk about anything else, even if just to hear your voice and have your presence? No, he has a feeling that would drive him even further up the tree he's chased himself up; he's sitting, tapping his foot like you were earlier when he should've been able to answer you normally, his apartment is dead silent, his dick's half-hard in his sweatpants and he doesn't know what to do.

You probably weren't even serious. If he was smart, he would've jacked off in the shower and called it a night.

But he likes you. More than you realize—more than you can realize, because he's always stone-faced, no-bullshit, hard-ass Akutagawa and he doesn't know how to be anything else, even when you're around and ecouraging him to loosen up. You can't possibly realize how much you've done for him in terms of easing his anxiety over always being good enough, in terms of helping him understand his humanity, in terms of making him feel like a real person.

He suddenly feels like he's on a tightrope of keeping you close and messing it all up, and whichever way he decides to fall will inevitably bring unending frustration that he could've done something different, something better.

And maybe this is an opening. Or a pinnacle that his relationship with you was doomed to come to. Either way, he can't sit in his apartment. Marching forward, like he always does—no matter how hesitantly—he slips his jacket on and shoves his keys in his pocket before he's heading for the elevator.

It's not until he's staring at the interface of buttons that he decides between launching himself to the ground for a long walk along the port or punching in your floor.

And you're so close—your back's arching, your jaw hangs slack, you're spilling water down the side of the tub that pools on the floor, but you'll worry about it later—when you hear manic pounding coming from your hallway. Maybe it's not yours, you think, screwing your eyes shut and working your fingers back and forth in tight circles around your clit because you want it, damn it, but your apartment's so damn big that it's almost impossible to conceive of it being for anyone else.

"One minute!" you shout, rising out of the water with grumbling breath to wrap yourself in a towel and blow all your candles out in one swipe. But whoever it is doesn't hear you, or doesn't care—the harsh knocking pattern booms again, and you almost trip over your pile of discarded work clothes as you fumble out of the bathroom wondering what could possibly be so important, and on account of who, that they had to interrupt your first hour of alone time all day, not to mention when you were so deliciously close to an orgasm you'd been working yourself up to with painstaking care. You'd even edged yourself a little, just because you figured you had time; you would've gotten it over with if you'd have known you were on call, but here you are, unsatisfied and stomping to your door, about to crack it open and take whatever orders were about to be unloaded onto you with a smile and can-do attitude.

You fling the door open.

“What?”

Akutagawa’s fist is still raised to knock. You watch his eyes behind his sunglasses as they flit down to you—you in nothing but a towel—and his face breaks out in a blush you’ve never seen on him before.

If you were any less annoyed, you would’ve smirked.

“Ryuu, what?” you snap again as his hand falls to his side. Whatever it is, if someone needs backup, if it’s urgent, you wish he’d tell you already—it’s so unlike him to stand speechless that you almost want to ask if something else is going on. “Can you spit it out so I know if I should get dressed, please?”

No, he wants to croak out, but you’ll just keep barraging him with questions—all he does is fumble his way inside your apartment with please don’t get dressed on the back of his tongue and that really strange, dazed look behind his glasses. He can't even blame the alcohol from earlier—he only had one, and it's had ample time to wear off.

“Ryuunosuke—”

He freezes where he is, steely eyes locking onto yours, and his voice leaves him, hoarse. “Say that again, please.”

You look at him incredulously, scrunching your towel up beneath your fist that holds it up. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Akutagawa feels small again. This was the wrong decision. He should’ve gone for that walk. He should’ve jerked off in the shower and then went to bed and tossed and turned until he finally fell into an erratic sleep and he should not be here, he should wake up tomorrow morning, sleep-deprived and full of regret but knowing he’s safe because he didn’t go to your apartment to find you in nothing but a towel and he spared your relationship, he didn’t make it weird, and he’d look at you longingly for the rest of however long, only when you weren’t looking just so you’d never know how much agony your stupid little joke from earlier today put him in.

But you’re expecting an answer, and out of all the filthy things Akutagawa is convinced he is, he is not a liar.

His eyes fly to the ground. Your legs, knocking together from the chill of the water droplets that still cling to them.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about earlier,” he forces out. “What you said.”

You hesitate. “What I said…?” Had you said something wrong?

Great, he thinks, mouth falling open. So you weren’t serious.

“You know what, nevermind.” He shouldn’t be here. He goes to push past you, toward your still-open door, but you stop him, shutting the door and pushing a palm against his chest.

“Tell me,” you mean to say, but it sounds more like a question; his pale face flushes again, and you search him with your gaze. He seems to shrink a little more before he sighs and looks to you once more.

“If I wanted to change that I’ve never…”

You wait.

“Kissed.”

You blink, cock your head.

“Or fucked anyone.”

Your hand lets up on his chest, and you find yourself taking a step back—little, but it sends your partner reeling into self-doubt all over again.

“You want…” You speak, quietly, with less urgency than you have thus far. “You wanna fuck me?”

And Akutagawa’s nodding, more frantically than his pride would prefer. But he’s nodding. Not looking at you. Waiting for you to laugh and clap him on the shoulder with a yeah, as if and tell him to go home.

But your fingers slide up to curl along the side of his neck. When his eyes are still downcast, you cup his jaw in your palm.

“Ryuu, look at me.”

Here it comes. The big rejection. He’s ready. He’ll go home and punch a hole in his wall, but he’s ready to hold it together right now.

His eyes drift to yours again, still cold and nervous, like a dog’s when it’s about to bite.

But you smile, trace your thumb along his bottom lip, and whisper.

He has no idea how much you mean what you're saying next.

“I wish you would’ve just led with that.”

It’s like bombs are about to detonate in his brain. He knows what he should do next—he should kiss you, he should throw himself at you and let your tongue between his lips, but part of the reason why he’s here is because he never has, and he trusts you to show him—just what kind of weak has he become, trusting someone with their teeth so close to his throat? It doesn’t matter because he wants it, he just wants you to—

“Show me, please.”

To his displeasure, you don't latch onto him like a hungry animal. Instead, your fingers drift down to his and wind between them; you lead him past the couch to your bedroom, sit him down, and pull your towel a little tighter around you. He wants it off, he wants to see you—even if the thought of sitting naked himself, in front of you, makes his stomach flip, he wants nothing more than to tear the towel away, get to exploring the ways you like to be touched, hear sounds from you he's never heard before.

"Ryuu," you say, one hand on his shoulder. "Be sure you want this."

"I do," he squeaks out, hardly ever having heard his own voice so meek.

"Tell me. Say it."

"I want it," his words follow yours seamlessly, without another thought. He's already established in his mind that he trusts you. But he's still sort of waiting for you to start chuckling and tell him this is a big joke; his hands tremble as you stare, digging for uncertainty, but you don't find any. So as you hold your towel against you, you crawl carefully onto his lap, astride his waist.

And now, he has you. Between his fingers. They find the curve of your waist as you curl an arm around the back of his neck after you work the jacket off from around his shoulders, tear his glasses off, push his soft bangs from his face. Akutagawa looks at you with so much wonder, so much need; you set your weight on him, and you feel him, and his nails grip your ass through the towel.

"Please, don't be gentle," he whispers when your lips hover immediately over his. He can feel your breath, warm and inviting, as the tip of your nose brushes past his.

You smile into his mouth and wrap your other arm around him.

You let the towel fall as you kiss him.

Hot, slow.

And the bombs go off all at once. Before the towel can pool over his hands he's batting it to the floor, scooting back onto your mattress to accomodate you; he wants to shut his eyes but you grind down against him through his pants as your lips mold against his and he’s probably never felt so alert in his life. Akutagawa gasps in a certain way, another sound he's never heard himself make; when your fingers tangle into the hair at the back of his head, he groans, grips your waist, and his eyes melt shut, finally.

You kiss him until he's putty, and he follows your lead; you grab his wrists and guide his hands to your chest, which has his eyes flying open all over again as he feels his fingerpads twitch over your nipples. You work him onto his back, easing him down with your tongue against his, so warm, so wet; your teeth, harsh in his bottom lip, where your thumb stroked so tenderly before, force his hips in a circle, and, oh, god, you have him losing it already, completely helpless, completely breathless.

You pull back, grinning, before grabbing for the buttons on his shirt.

"This okay?"

It's not okay, it's insane. His pants are too tight. He's never needed someone like this. And you look so angelic above him waiting for him to nod, give you a small yes, before you work him out of his shirt next, taking care to trace every ridge and valley of his ribs and abdomen as you do. He shivers when it's gone, discarded with his jacket and glasses; his arms come to cover himself but you trace those, too, the dips in his lean muscle and severities of his shoulders, collarbones, elbows, wrists. Just as he thinks he might feel too vulnerable, you start mapping him out with a softness he's never felt before; he wants to sink into it, keep it forever. If he wasn't so painfully hard, he might not even need to fuck you; just laying, relaxing into the sheets beneath him as you look at him like he's beautiful, is a heaven of its own.

"You're so pretty, Ryuu," you mutter. You hunch to bite the juncture of his throat and shoulder, then soothe it with a kiss. "So, so fucking pretty. You know that?"

Akutagawa shudders again. "I told you not to be gentle."

You bite him once more, grinding your bare cunt along his clothed cock, and a groan throttles from his chest. After doing the same to the opposite side of his neck, your lips meet his again, and he forgets about shielding himself in favor of letting his hands rock you back and forth against him.

You feel him twitch below you as you work him into nothing but impatient breath and swollen lips; your irritation from not reaching your climax earlier doubles back on you in a wave of arousal, and you’re guiding him out of his pants and boxers at the same time, and thank god that’s all that’s left and that you’re so turned on already because when the tip of his pale cock hits his abs, all you can think about is sinking down onto it, feeling it fill you up and pulse inside you.

But you wait, looking at him low-lidded and asking him, “You want me on top, or you?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he curses, twisting a leg into the bend of your knee at his side; you’re not weak by any means, but in one smooth movement he’s got you on your back, pinned down by your wrists. “If you’re going to be gentle, then I won’t.”

Wasting no time. You almost giggle but you’re gasping, his eagerness streamlining into a searing kiss to your mouth and one of his rough hands snaking down to collect the wetness pooling between your thighs.

He knows he should touch you. He knows that much. He wants to know—

“Where? Tell me where,” he growls into your mouth, and you guide him by his wrist and fingers once again to draw tight circles over your clit—ones that make you arch, and after feeling how you do it he burns it into his brain, the movement you’re guiding him through that sends your head lolling onto the pillow. Akutagawa’s eyes widen. He could watch your expression replay for hours.

“That’s it,” you encourage him, breathy, letting him go as he memorizes your rhythm. “Feels so good.”

You bring your two wet fingers up to his mouth, which he accepts without hesitance; his tongue swirls around them and you realize how serious he is—he doesn’t want it slow and you’re losing your resolve against him and you think you need him in you, right now.

He stills when you reach for his cock, dark hair swaying as his gaze trails your hand; he sits back, heaving, as he rubs you, as you stroke him and smear a pathetically large bead of precum across his tip and down his length. Trying desperately not to stop, to keep making you feel good, he throws his head back when you squeeze just beneath the head of his cock and pull him back toward you by his shoulder.

“Wan’ you to fuck me, Ryuu,” you whine, lining him up with your weeping hole. He’s pushing in with hardly a second thought, and, oh—he’s groaning in yet another way he’s never heard before, watching himself disappear into you, bracing himself on your forearms until he fills you up to hilt. So wet, so warm. He hardly realizes how ragged his breath is until he hears your own.

You squirm, and after he presses another series of messy kisses to your lips to stifle the noises of pleasure leaving him that would be so humiliating if he wasn’t so drunk on you, you hold him by his chin and look so deeply into his eyes that he’s afraid for a second you’re doing that thing where you look right through him into his very soul, but your mouth is forming around words that he must hear, he must hang onto, you have to tell him what to do, and you do—

“Don’t be gentle.”

So he isn’t. He moves, on nothing but your words and intuition and the way you clench around him; there’s virtually no resistance when he pulls out, slams back in, pulls out, slams back in—and he loses himself in it so quickly, so noisily.

“Unh—fuck—” Your name leaves his lips like a song that has you linking your ankles behind his back as he writhes, pounds into you—and you understand all over again, he wasn’t kidding. He doesn’t want it slow. And neither do you, you realize, now that he’s dragging his perfect cock along your insides so deliciously.

He realizes something too, as he falls to his elbows and buries his open mouth into your neck; that he never wants anyone else to hear the sounds either of you are making ever again. He doesn't care that you're more experienced than him, or that your relationship is irrevocably changed now that this is happening; you're going to be the first and last person that ever hears him moaning like this, that ever has him blushing from face to chest at the lewd sounds that your bodies emit where they meet and then part each time he pistons in and out of you. You’re clawing at him, raking tracks down his back and biceps that spur him to a pace he didn’t know he was capable of—he can’t wait to see them in the mirror tomorrow when the rawness has left and they’re angry red, a testament to how quickly he’s learning you, how quickly you’re both falling apart, how much he thinks he loves you.

Yeah, he thinks he loves you—it’s muffled by your skin, but he’s saying it, he can’t help it, he can’t keep it in his lungs if he’s going to keep this pace up.

“Love you, Ryuu,” you echo, and he echoes you right back like he didn’t start it.

“Love you.” Thrust. “Love you.” Thrust. “Love you—mmh!”

"My good boy," you croon when he reaches down to touch you, to feel you squeezing him down on him. Your good boy. You could turn him into a whore if you kept saying that.

"My name, please," he breathes, high-pitched, almost wheezing; you hold him as close to your body as you can, shortening his unstoppable thrusts against the spot inside you that makes your toes curl, pushes rhythmic moans from your throat, and his hands are all over you, begging for it in his rough grips that undulate into soft caresses back to harsh nails back to gentle strokes.

"Ryuunosuke—" you choke out, "Don't—" Gasp. "—fucking—" Gasp. "—stop!"

The most gorgeous strand of strained moans, gasps, and growls leave him as his head batters insatiably against your cervix; he’s falling off that tightrope, and you’re catching him, all his shaking fingers and trembling thighs that still momentarily before he can warn you, before he can tell you—

"Cum in me," you sigh as you feel him, feel yourself breaking, coming undone as he forces his sounds down your throat; you swallow them all, crying out against his lips as he bites you, furrows his brow, pulls back to bore into your clouded gaze—he's sure he looks the same if not worse, more unraveled, mouth open, lips wet, when you arch back and pull him flush against you and he's cumming, taking you for every last bit you'll give him until you're hypersensitive, fluttering around him, helping him make a sticky mess beneath the both of you as his head falls forward again, into your shoulder, restless, groaning with aftershock, until his lips meet yours and he kisses you, kisses you, kisses you, neither of you ready to come down yet.

But soon enough you're reduced to exhausted writhing, slow bites, fingers through his hair and he's spent—pleasantly so. Weak, not in the way he feels after he's been brought to his knees by a formidable foe but in a way he will not be content to part with; a comfortable resignation that he could make a home in.

Akutagawa wraps himself around you, and you kick the blanket at your feet up until you can pull it over his shoulders and tuck your nose into his forehead.

"Still kind of don't believe you've never done that before," you think out loud, voice a little absent from how you’ve been sobbing for him.

And Akutagawa finds himself smiling into your skin. He sounds just as much of a wreck. "Never. Not until now."

It was good. Not only was it good, but you can feel him softening inside you, and you want him to stay.

"Meant it, by the way."

Then he looks up at you, quizzically. That strange, dazed look is in his eyes again.

But you just look back at him. Push his bangs back, mirror his tired smile. Wipe the drying sheen of sweat from across his brow.

When it clicks, he's buried in your neck again. Grumbling. "I meant it, too."

You hug yourself impossibly tighter around him, muttering his name, rolling you both to your sides where you cup his face once more, pressing smooches all over him, less heated and more playful, and Akutagawa scrunches his nose as you pepper him and start mumbling in between—

"Love you. Love you. Love you."

He catches you in your tirade and kisses you like you first kissed him—slow, deep. His own love you whispered, almost imperceptible. He'll stay. "Thank you. Love you."

Like he never knew he was capable of loving. He’s not uncomfortable. For once. For real. You caught him when he was falling. He hopes you’ll keep doing it.

But right now, he only has one more question.

"Do you have any cigarettes?"

You reach across him, over to your nightstand. “Who do you think I am?”

My angel, he thinks in response as you nudge the filter between his lips to light it. You, in control, let him puff before you steal it for yourself.

And he’s yours. The Port Mafia’s ferocious Hellhound is your good boy, your angel.

You’ll love him until he believes it.

[pinkyqil]

Out of control (2)

Alexia x r x child

Notes: a mini fic while we wait for me to drop some other fic for you guys,it's definitely not proofread cause I wrote this at 2 in the morning and need sleep if you have any ideas for this fic that's turned into a mini series let me know.

ONE, TWO,

Today you get to spend the entire day with your mami. without your mama being in the picture as she was going to be having girls night with a few of her friends.

which meant you were stuck with your mami and get to enjoy the whole day with her that has you very excited for.

For the whole day you had gotten to spend it with your mami and her teammates.

After practice you, your mami and tía Irene decide to tag along to enjoy the rest of the day with tía Irene son mateo at the park. You were having do much fun at the park that you forgot about your mami telling you not to run off so where far away.

It took alexia a few minutes to realize that you had gone missing from her vision. when she couldn't spot you from where you we're earlier. Having been distracted by the conversation she and Irene had.

Both women split up so that they could find you faster. Alexia on the other hand was very worried but she knew that you couldn't have gone to far from the park.

You were starting to get worried as the sun was starting to set and you couldn't find your mami anywhere.

Tears streaming down your face as your cries got louder.but luckily Irene was able to find you just in time before it got really dark outside.

"lele esta bien ya no necesitas llorar". Irene said trying to calm down the little girl before her but all she got was louder sobs and decided to call alexia to let her know she found her daughter.

"no puedo encontrar a mi mami". Was what she could get out from all the crying.

"Está bien y tu mamá viene, así que te trae, así que no llores".Irene said in hopes for lele to calm down. Immediately after she said those words alexia found herself sprinting to we're Irene was, hugging and reassuring her daughter that everything was okay.

"mami lo siento por no escuchar". Was all her little girl could get out of from all her crying.

"Lo sé, Lele, está bien, te tengo". Alexia told her feelings a sigh of relief that her daughter was safe and sound.

"Vamos, volvamos a casa. Se está haciendo tarde y tu mamá probablemente ya esté en casa preocupándose". She said to her daughter before thanking Irene for finding her.

"Beuno".

On her way home alexia felt a little guilty about not being able to be there and got you gummies even though you couldn't have sweets before dinner.

Alexia never felt relieved to arrive back home with her child found safely. Dinner time was very calm to your liking but after alexia had explained what happened to you honestly get it your wife wasn't always used to lele's outburst.

do not come for me if the translation aren't to what it's supposed to be I just translated English to Spanish okay blame google not me ik I should've used the one that had more accuracy but it's lateeee‼️‼️‼️

Translation:

lele esta bien ya no necesitas llorar - lele it's okay you don't need to cry anymore

no puedo encontrar a mi mami - I can't find my mom

Está bien y tu mamá viene, así que te trae, así que no llores - its okay and you mami is coming to get you so don't cry

mami lo siento por no escuchar - mami I'm sorry for not listening

Lo sé, Lele, está bien, te tengo - I know, lele, it's okay, I got you

Vamos, volvamos a casa. Se está haciendo tarde y tu mamá probablemente ya esté en casa preocupándose - come on let's go home, it's getting late and your mama is probably home worrying