#trying real hard to draw him the way he actually looks and not how i think he looks

[rs-hawk]

Nobleman Minotaur Part Three

After your official debut, Minotaur started avoiding you even more. It hurt. You tried to find reasons to be around him, but he always found an excuse to leave quickly. You had thought the two of you had grown closer, especially after the dance you shared. You thought maybe he liked you, but maybe you were wrong.

One day, you were walking through the garden, lazily picking grapes from the vine, with Pasiphae appearing in front of you. "Your Rarity!" you gasped, quickly dipping your head, grapes dropping from your hands as you grabbed up your dress to curtsy.

The immoral laughed, setting her hand under your chin to draw it up. "No need for such formalities, Princess. I've come to check in on your family, and my son. Have you seen him?"

Your face fell as she took her hand back. "I don't know, ma'am. Minotaur has been avoiding me lately."

"What did you say?" her voice sounded hard, angry even. It sent a chill down your spine.

"Minotaur has been avoiding me," you whispered, your throat felt tight as you repeated your sentence.

"Is that what you all have been calling him? No wonder he has been avoiding you," while she didn't mean it as cruelly as it came across, it still struck your heart.

"Is that not his name? I thought-," you started, only to be cut off by a wave of her hand.

"That is the name my last husband called him. The name given to him by nurse maids to try to appease him, as if he were Hera and my lovely boy was Heracules. No, Minotaur is not his name, and never had been," she sneered, looking towards the building where your love had been residing.

"Why would he never correct me, or anyone?" your voice quivered as she began to take long strides towards her son's home, and you followed obediently.

"Asterion has always been a curious child," she paused, sparing a glance over her shoulder at you. "Even curse aside."

"Asterion? Is that his true name?" you asked as you rolled the name on your tongue. It tasted like a warm blanket and honey tea.

"Yes," she said with a smile, coming to the stairs leading up to his doors. "A strong name for a strong boy."

Lifting her hand to the door, she rapped lightly on the door. It only took a moment for her son to open it, though his eyes went immediately to you. Under his gaze, your face flushed. It was so intense. How could he look at you like that and then not even want to speak a word to you?

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" Pasiphae grinned, looking between the two. "I thought you said my shy son had been avoiding you."

"He has been," you muttered, your cheeks glowing redder.

"Mother," he groaned, though you thought maybe you saw a blush under his fur.

"Alright, alright. I won't push," she smiled as she made her way inside as he side stepped to let the two of you in. "I just wanted to check in on my sweet boy."

"I am doing well. Y/N and her family are exceedingly kind to me," he said in a quiet voice, side eyeing you.

"And yet you haven't even told the poor girl your real name. Are you ashamed of it? I agonized over your name," she puffed up her cheeks playfully, glaring at her son.

"Of course not, but everyone already knows me as Minotaur, so it just felt strange. It's not like anyone actually referred to me as Asterion... before," his eyes were downcast, his tail and ears drooping.

"I like it," you chimed in, rubbing your arm nervously. "I think it suits you."

"Thank you," he muttered back just as shyly.

"I think I will continue my visit with the King and check back in later," his mother nearly purred as she gave you a slight shove before stepping back towards the door. "You two should get better acquainted, I think. I can trust the two of you unchaperoned, can't I?"

Minotaur, no, Asterion, glared at her as she rushed away, laughing lightly. He didn't understand how she could be borderline cruel to her. She knew him better than anyone else. She had to know how his heart had always ached for love and kindness, and here you were, all of that embodied. You looked up at him through your dark lashes, the blush finally subsiding. Gods, it was such a gorgeous sight.

"So, you haven't been avoiding me. Then what has this all been about?" you said in what you hoped was a playful tone.

He was definitely blushing under that fur. There was no doubt in your mind about that with the way that he was acting. "I have been trying to be respectful."

"How so?"

"You are a Princess. It's not as if I am really deserving of the kind of attention I... well," he ran his fingers through his hair as he looked away. "Well, the kind of attention that I wish you would give me. I might have a title, but most will always see me as a monster."

"What kind of attention do you wish that I would give you?" you were breathless, your blood pounding in your ears. He shrugged and didn't respond. "I don't see a monster when I look at you. I see a man. A man who has been through so much. More than anyone else could imagine. A very handsome man."

His eyes met yours quickly as he jerked his head up to look at you. "Please, don't say things you don't mean."

"I would never," your voice was strained. Your mouth dry.

Cautiously, you took a step closer to him. He let out a soft groan, his brows furrowing together. "Princess, you don't know what you're saying when it comes to a creature like me."

"What does it mean for me to say it to a man like you?" you whispered, taking another step closer to him. You reached out, your fingers just barely grazing his muscular forearm. "Tell me."

There was silence for several seconds before he reached out to you, cupping your face in his large, calloused hands. You were able to look up at him, your heart racing. His dark eyes seemed impossibly deep. After a moment, he lowered his head. Your eyes fluttered shut with anticipation. You gripped his forearm now, drawing him closer to you. You could feel his breath on your lips. Your entire body was shaking with excitement.

"Princess," he sighed, and you could almost feel his lips moving as he spoke.

"Well, that was a quick visit. Y/N, your father is waiting for you," Pasiphae's voice filled the air as she opened the door.

Asterion jumped back, snorting with clear irritation. "Mother, we were-."

"Doing something that a chaperon would fully allow, I'm sure. Now, Y/N, I do believe you would be interested in what your father and I discussed," the immortal smiled at you, her eyes creasing as it brightened her face.

"Of course," you bowed your head, casting a look at Asterion before exiting, with your heart still nearly beating out of your chest.

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[waywardsalt]

Have you ever thought about how Linebeck describes Jolene as "crazier than a rabid squid"- only to then be possessed by a literal rabid squid later in the game?

Cause I sure have- especially after seeing a lot of your BellumxLinebeck stuff

mmmmghmm im gonna be honest i haven't thought about it much at all

linking it to my bellum x linebeck thoughts, im not too sure what to make of it in context with my other linebeck notes and w/e

there's also my idea that linebeck has a special interested in shellfish and by extension squids, and the idea of him having a weird thing for bellum, and just... enjoying sealife, and it's kinda of...

he compares her to a rabid squid to link in order to i think... offer a shorthand explanation of what she's like, and i think it (with some other stuff) is kinda just another little peek into how he might feel abt her?

i mean he also compares link to a dog in that one letter? i'm not sure where im going with that one. i dont think linebeck particularly likes dogs

i'm not sure abt the link between that and him getting possessed, jolene is kind of just... there a lot of the time and doesn't really do anything except 1) show that linebeck has enemies and 2) show that people know about link's quest by the end, linebeck generally references sea creatures a few times in ph

relating to bellum x linebeck, i dont see him comparing jolene to a squid an indicator of anything in relation to that, with linebeck having a thing for bellum its more of like. there's a lot of complicated ideas i have with what goes on between them during bellumbeck and bellum being a squid thing is more linebeck having a bit of a monsterfucker streak and having a bit of a thing for like. being tied up. as for literal squids he kinda just likes them as food and to dissect and learn about

like i think 'rabid squid' is more like linebeck just tossing out some derogatory shorthand to explain how he thinks of jolene as some fucking. violent annoyance he has to deal with that he doesn't fully understand

tbh i see the comparison but imo it comes down to a difference in characters and interactions and histories, there is the rabid squid thing (and i think in the manga too theres a vague parallel drawn ig) but im not. sure. what there is there just beyond. linebeck talks about sea creatures and wants to get the fuck away from jolene

i'm not entirely certain what you've been thinking about with that comparison, but i haven't been thinking much about it and it's kinda. eh ig???? its something

[luveline]

your bombshell!reader x spencer is feeding me so well, i'm obsessed!! SJSJS since we've seen reader jealous, is it possible to have a fic where it's spencer that's jealous?

thank u!! fem!reader

Your outfit today is simple. Pencil skirt, dark stockings, hair pristine. The thing that catches Spencer's attention, holds it between two squeezing palms, is the shirt and blazer ensemble you've styled. It's cut to fit, sleek and dark and hard to look away from. 

You brush past the back of Hotch's chair with a sigh, clearly unaware of the attention you're garnering from across the way. “What's wrong with him?” you ask. 

“The same thing as usual,” Hotch says. 

“It's not like we've ever instantly solved a case. Gideon knows this takes time.”

Elle pokes her tongue into her cheek, eyes flared wide. She says a lot without saying anything, flicking through the police files in front of her dispassionately.

“How come you stayed?”

It takes Spencer a moment to realise you're talking to him. “What?” 

“You didn't go with Gideon?” You hold your chin in your hand. “Not getting along anymore?” 

Spencer isn't not getting along with his mentor. He would've accompanied Gideon to meet with a past mass murderer, only you're here, and so he'd found unrelated reasons to stay. 

“We're fine,” Spencer says, not wanting to say more and give himself away. 

“Well, he took Morgan.” You pout, your voice dripping to a wistful whine. “What am I gonna do now without him? None of you guys ever wanna play with me.” 

Hotch smiles to himself. Spencer's stomach ties itself in knots, a tight noose that grows tighter still when you notice his expression and lean in toward your superior. “What's that smile for, Hotchner?” 

“Don't you have emails to look through?”  

You hold your cheek in your hand lightly, fingertips digging into the soft of your cheek. Your smile is like a kick to the chest, achingly sweet on such a pretty face. “No…” Your pinky digs into the corner of your mouth. “I don't remember that being on my agenda today.” 

“Consider it an addition.” 

Is Hotch flirting back? Spencer isn't sure why that strikes him so hard. Maybe because Hotch would actually have a chance with you if he wanted it; your flirting with Hotch is more real than if it were with Spencer, because Spencer is a twenty-something know-it-all who still dresses like his mom buys his clothes. 

“It's a lot of emails, boss,” you say. 

“You have time. Start with the ones sent by Hughes and work your way down.” Hotch slides the login information across the desk into your reach. 

You look at it unhappily. Look up at him. 

Just being looked at by you is a full body experience. Whenever you look at him, he begs himself to play it cool as Hotch is now, to treat it as the affectionate playfulness of a friend rather than serious flirting. He'd have a better chance of being taken seriously by you if he didn't blush whenever you so much as breathed in the same room. 

He wishes he could respond calmly like Hotch. (He wishes you'd flirt with him and him alone. He buries that deep.) 

Envy eats at his hands. Pins and needles he tries to shake away. His movements draw your attention, and your smile worsens, which is to say sweetens, like seeing him again is a treat for the eyes. 

“You'll help me, won't you, baby?” you ask.

He goes a little blind. 

Hotch and Elle watch the encounter with similar parts pity and amusement. 

“You can read through them so quickly, I could really use your…” —you drag your fingertips down your face until your nails are at your jaw— “expertise.” 

“Reid has his own tasks–” 

“I can help,” Spencer interrupts. 

You drop your hand from your face altogether. “Thank you. Have I mentioned how much I missed you while I was away?” 

“Only five times,” Elle says under her breath. 

“They try so very hard to keep us apart. It's not fair.” 

Because unlike Reid, you don't have multiple degrees. You're still learning, and you can't be here permanently, but your talent, your knack for profiling, is unignorable. You're guaranteed a place on the team as soon as you can prove yourself to Strauss. Without a Gideon to vouch for you, that could take a while, and yet you're never jealous of Spencer skipping a few hurdles to get here. 

If anything, you admire him. “They don't understand our bond, that's all. And together we're hard to beat. Isn't that right, Spence?” 

Perhaps Spencer shouldn't be jealous. You don't call Hotch by anything so saccharine, after all. 

[luvrxbunny]

sweet

pairing: bf!Eddie Munson x f!reader

summary: Eddie is trying to see what it takes for you to ask him for help.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, praise kink, dry humping, cum in pants (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i blacked out after two sentences i have no clue where the rest came from. apparently i was too horny to give a proper ending?

Eddie can see your hyper-focus on your hands, his heart is melting at the way you’re trying so hard to follow what he showed you even though he knows you can’t focus when you’re high. 

It’s 10:37 pm, you and Eddie are high and he’s been trying to teach you the chords to his new song for 20 minutes now. He’s chuckling quietly as your fingers fumble over the strings again, drawing a frustrated whine from your mouth. 

“Aww, It’s okay, baby. You’re doing much better than you were earlier! You’re actually picking this up way faster than I thought you would.” Eddie is genuine when he says it but it’s your reaction that changes that.. that changes his intentions. He watches your face as he praises you, he watches your eyes glaze over, and your lips part gently as a soft smile spreads over your face. 

“Th- Thank you, Eddie. That’s so nice of you, thank you.” You sound so out of it. It shocks Eddie for a moment but makes perfect sense. He thinks of all the time you ask him for help with your studies, even though he knows you know the material. He thinks of all the time he cheers for you after getting the right answer, how he praises you and calls you his smart girl. He thinks of all the times you bake for him, asking for him to taste test them even though you’ve made the recipe a million times, he thinks about his exaggerated moans of delight, how he would get on his knees and beg you to make him a batch. 

He thinks about times exactly like this one, when he’s playing his guitar for you and you beg him to teach you. He thinks about how quickly you pick them up and how you beam at him when you finally get it. The only difference now is that you’re higher than he’s ever seen you. 

You wanted to celebrate for midterms so Eddie rolled you a blunt instead of his usual joints. Of course, his little lightweight got high out of her mind. You got so soft and cuddly that he could’ve never denied you when you asked him real nice to teach you the new chords. 

He comes out of his thoughts just in time for him to hear you nail the part you’ve been struggling with, perfectly. His blood rushes to his cock when he notices the way you look up at him, expectantly, almost… desperately. “Such a good job, baby.” It comes out more sultry than he meant it to but he’s never been able to hide his emotions with you. 

He watches your eyebrows, twitch in confusion but you don’t break his gaze. You’re waiting for more. He has to take a deep breath as his sensitive tip presses against the zipper of his jeans. His hands are twitching at his sides as he gets up, leaving his desk and making his way to where you sit on his bed. “That was amazing, honey. You’re better than I am, you’re perfect.”

He watches your thighs tense, trying to rub together as your hips lift to press you against his guitar as you get a faraway look in your eyes. You’re looking right at him as you grind yourself into his guitar, he doesn’t think you even realize you’re doing it. He lays down next to you, watching your bottom lip tuck under your teeth as you shake your head with a small smile. “No, not better than you, Eds. I could never beat the best, baby.” 

Eddie has to actively bite back a moan at the pet name, he feels like he’s gonna fucking pass out as all his blood rushes south. He knows you’re trying, he knows you’re trying to turn him on, asking him to make you feel good without actually saying the words. 

He’s told you time and time again how hot your pet names get him, he knows it’s silly but he cannot help it. Every time you speak to him with any ounce of sweetness he’s fattening up in his jeans. “But you’re perfect then?” He presses his hips forward, loving the pressure your plush thighs provide against his throbbing cock. His eyes almost roll back as he watches a silent moan fall from your mouth as your hips twitch, forward first against his guitar but back again to press into his boner. 

He smiles and raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you. You never initiate. He knows you’re shy, he knows it’s hard for you. He knows he’s all of your firsts but he needs— he craves to hear you beg him- to hear you ask him to touch you. He’s insecure, he can’t have this be so one-sided. He wants to see how far he has to push you before you say something. 

You’re nodding at him desperately. “Yes- Yes, I’m perfect.” He’s smiling so fondly at your agreement, his dick twitching painfully in his pants. He knows you feel it by the way your hips twitch, pathetically confused and you whine. It’s short and cut off as you turn to put his guitar away, placing it gently on the ground. You brush his cock and give him a beautiful view of your ass in the process. He’s silently begging you to say something, he doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. 

You turn back around and just stare at him, waiting for him to say something. He watches confusion bloom over your face, your head tilting like a puppy. He mimics your action with a teasing smile. “Do you have something to ask me, baby?” He watches realization and dread spread over your features. 

“Eddie…” Your thighs are rubbing together, nervously or for friction. He doesn’t falter, just looks at you expectantly as you pout. His hips are subconsciously thrusting up into the air, getting hot under your gaze. You press your hand to your forehead, astonishingly stressed at this seemingly simple task. Eddie considers letting up as he analyzes the distress on your face but you speak up. 

“Eddie can you-” You whine and avert your gaze. “Can you make me feel good? I—“ You huff out a breath of embarrassment. “I want you to make me cum… please.” His heart bursts at how nicely you ask. He’s taking a slow deep breath, trying to calm himself before answering you but you take his silence as a demand for more. “Eddie please!” You sound so upset, it's so cute. It makes him so hard. “Please, I- I need it. I need you, Eddie, please.” You’re still not looking at him as you whine. 

Eddie turns your head and smashes his lips into yours just to shut you up. If you had kept rambling about how bad you need him he would’ve cum in his pants. “Yeah. Yeah, I can make you feel good, baby. What do you wanna do, pretty girl? We can do whatever you want. You asked me so nicely, honey. You’re so sweet.” 

He’s desperate and all over you as he speaks. His hands are in your hair as he kisses all over your face and down your neck. You feel like you could suffocate in his need for you, it rushes over you and makes you need him more. “Your- Can we- Eddie.” 

He’s biting into your neck as you try to answer. You can feel him smirking in your neck as you struggle to answer him. “ ‘M sorry, baby. Go on, talk. You’re doing so well, honey.” He pulls himself closer to you so he can press his bulge into you again, his eyes fully rolling back at the pressure this time. “I want you to…. fingermeplease?” He moans at the way you rush out the last part of the sentence but still manage to use your manners. 

“You want me to finger you, baby? Fuck, yeah. I can do that. Mhm. You wanna sit between my legs? Let me open you up and play?” You’re nodding frantically and whining against his face as he lets filth spill from his lips. “Yeah? Will ‘ya squirm, honey? No, no I bet you’ll stay put like a good girl, huh?” 

He pummels you with his embarrassingly arousing words as he gets up to take his pants off (as you do the same), leaving his boxers and situating himself against the headboard. His thick thighs spread wide over his bed, leaving room for you to crawl between them. You don’t move though, you’re too mesmerized by the way his cock is pressing against the fabric, leaking into it and leaving a rapidly spreading dark spot. It can’t help but twitch as you admire him, he can’t take it; the hungry yet somehow innocent look in your eyes as you crawl towards him. 

Normally this is the part where you turn around, your legs spread and trembling over his as he shoves his fingers in your pretty pussy over and over until you’re quivering around his fingers, moaning and gripping his hair behind you desperately. Normally this is the part when he presses his boner to your lower back, thrusting against you in time with his fingers, imagining that it’s actually his cock inside you and willing himself not to cum when he pictures it for too long. 

Instead, you lift yourself to your knees. His face becomes level with your panties, his hips thrusting into the air as he groans at the pink bow resting on the band. You put your hands on his shoulder and slowly lower yourself onto his lap, letting out the sweetest moan as his soaked cock pushes into your dripping lips. His hands come up to your hips and force you down to him rougher than he meant to when he hears the sweetest whimper of “Oh, Eddie” slip from your throat. 

“Oh my fucking god, baby. You feel incredible, so fucking perfect. I can’t take it. Mm- Oh— What happened? I- I thought you wanted my fingers, sweetheart?” He’s throwing his head back and groaning when you collapse into him, leaning your weight on his bulge. You’re huffing out like you’re gonna cum, looking up at him with your pretty, glazed over, fucked out, high as fuck eyes. 

“I dunno, Eddie. I- It looked like he was- like he was crying for me.” Your hips stutter with a moan as your eyes roll back, Eddie’s hard cock rubbing against your clit perfectly. He feels like he’s gonna cum as you confess. It confounding to him; how you can say the most whorish things in the sweetest way. 

“You are in-fucking-credible, my love. I have no clue how you do this to me. I’m already so close, baby. You’re so amazing, so soft for me, love.” His eyes roll back and he’s losing it.

“You’re gonna make me cum— fuck. Holy shit—faster. Oh-h f-fuck me faster, baby. I love you so much. I- I’m gonna cum so hard. I- dammit. I wanna make you cum first. L-lemme make you cum first- shi-itt.”

You’re rabid against him, your hips moving at a pace that has him weak. You have him questioning who’s in control. He’s wound even tighter when he feels your hips falter, losing their rhythm as your mini whines evolve into desperate moans. “H-Help- Ed—” 

Your breathing is scattered as you whine and twitch against him. “Yeah, I’ve got you, baby.” He grabs your hips and grinds you against him, lifting his hips to meet your heavenly pussy and pressing magnificently into your clit. It has your hands digging into his shoulders, dropping down to his waist as you hug yourself to him. You’re moaning into his ear as he feels your thighs tensing on his sides.

“T-tell me-” You whine higher, more pathetically than he’s heard all night, his cock pulses, spurting out a dangerous amount of pre-cum into his boxers. “Tell me I’m good. T-Tell me I’m pretty—” You cut yourself off with a gasp as you buck your hips against him, a newfound energy coursing through you. “Oh- please- please tell me I’m pretty.”

Eddie’s right on the edge, moaning so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole trailer park heard him. “YES- Yes, oh my god. You’re so beautiful, my love. You’re a fucking goddess among peasants. You’re a flower in a field of fucking hay, you’re my dream. You’re my soulmate.” He dissolves into a whine as you cum against him. You’re moaning into his shoulder, trying to muffle yourself in his shirt but you’re too loud. 

“There you go, fuck yes. Good girl— Oh shit. I’m gonna-” His eyes are in the back of his skull before he can finish. His hips twitching insanely and spurting out an outrageous amount of cum into the fabric of your panties. He’s panting as he tries to come down but you’re deliriously humping him. Forcing more ropes of cum into his boxers, he just can’t seem to stop. 

“Oh. Oh my god- I- I can’t stop. You’re such a good girl. Mine. My good girl. Askin’ me to make you feel good, takin’ what you need. God-” A ragged moan bubbles out of him as his cock finally stops drenching your poor panties. 

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

[its-avalon-08]

omg I love the protective Daniel post you just did, I feel like max would be so protective too, could I please request max and rival driver reader who always bicker but have undeniable tension..and after a race they’re celebrating at the club and mad max comes out seeing a really creepy guy hitting on her and manhandling her across the dance floor. Reader is a bit shaken up cause she hasn’t had things like that happen in a while since becoming more famous and the creepy guy was a lot bigger than her

and max drives her home and comforts her - I feel a hug from his big strong arms would fix all my problems lolz, maybe leading to some spice?? Thank you!!

hi bubs! im sorry im not super gr8 at writing spice so i didnt include any, myabe in the future! so sorry but hope u enjoy

hands. off. (mv1)

✦ pairing - max verstappen x female!driver!reader

✦ genre - enemies to lovers, angst, creepy guy, confessions, happy ending

The tension was palpable in the team garage as Max and Y/N prepared for the race. Mechanics bustled around, making final adjustments to the cars, while the two drivers stood on opposite sides, glaring at each other.

"You know, Max, just because you have a world championship doesn't mean you're invincible," Y/N said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she adjusted her gloves.

Max smirked, not looking up from his car. "And just because you're fast doesn't mean you're good enough to beat me. You should focus on keeping up."

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes flashing with anger. "Maybe if you stopped acting like you're the king of the track, you'd see that I'm right on your tail. You're not as untouchable as you think."

Max finally looked up, meeting her gaze with a challenging look. "I'll believe it when I see it, Y/N. Until then, you're just another driver trying to take my spot."

She crossed her arms, standing her ground. "You better watch out, Max. One mistake, and I'll be there to overtake you. And believe me, it'll happen sooner than you think. Until then fuck off."

Max's eyes narrowed. "Bring it on. Just don't cry when you can't handle the pressure."

Their team principal stepped in, sensing the rising tension. "Alright, you two, save it for the track. We need both of you focused if we're going to win today."

Max and Y/N exchanged one last glare before turning their attention back to their cars, the hostility between them lingering in the air.

post race

The race had been fierce, with Max narrowly edging out Y/N for the win. As they walked back to the garage, Y/N's frustration boiled over. She threw her helmet down in exasperation, drawing Max's attention.

"Nice job blocking me out there, Max. Real fucking classy," she snapped, her eyes blazing with anger.

Max shrugged, a smug smile playing on his lips. "It's called defending my position. Maybe you should learn how to do it."

Y/N stepped closer, her fists clenched. "Or maybe you should learn to win without playing dirty."

Max's smile faded, replaced by a cold stare. "I play to win, Y/N. If you can't handle that, maybe you're in the wrong sport."

Y/N's heart raced, not just from anger but from the proximity. She could feel the heat radiating off him, their faces inches apart. "Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with proving you're the best, you'd realize you don't have to be such an asshole all the time."

Max leaned in, his breath hot on her face. "And maybe if you stopped trying to compete with me, you'd see that I actually respect you."

Y/N's eyes widened, the air between them crackling with tension. "Respect? You have a funny way of showing it, Max."

Max's gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her eyes again. "It's called tough love sweetheart. You wouldn't want it any other way."

She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't need your respect."

Max's hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out and touch her, but he held back. "Maybe not. But you have it, whether you like it or not."

The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, making her head spin. For a moment, all the anger and frustration seemed to morph into something else, something neither of them was ready to admit.

"Why do you always have to make everything so complicated?" Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible.

Max's voice softened, the hostility fading. "Maybe because I don't know how else to deal with you. You're... different."

Y/N's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. "Different how?"

Max's eyes softened, and for a moment, the walls between them seemed to crumble. "Different in a way that scares me. And I don't scare easily."

The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard, and she felt a surge of emotion she couldn't quite name. Without thinking, she closed the distance between them, their bodies almost touching.

"Max..." she began, her voice trembling.

Before she could say anything more, Max leaned in, his forehead almost resting against hers. "Y/N, I..."

The moment was electric, the world around them fading away. For that brief second, all the rivalry, the anger, and the hostility melted into something raw and undeniable. But just as quickly, Max pulled back, the moment shattered and his rough facade was back up.

"We should get back to the team," he said, his voice hoarse.

Y/N nodded, her heart still racing. "Yeah. We should."

As they walked back to the garage, the tension between them was stronger than ever, but now it was laced with something more—something neither of them could ignore.

time skip

The club was alive with music and dancing, the perfect place to celebrate after a hard-fought race. Y/N tried to shake off the lingering tension from her earlier confrontation with Max, letting the music take over as she moved with her friends. But even in the crowded club, she could feel his eyes on her, a constant presence that sent shivers down her spine.

Max sat at the bar, nursing a drink, but his attention was entirely on Y/N. She danced with an easy grace, her movements drawing the eyes of everyone around her, but Max's gaze was different—intense, focused, and filled with the unresolved tension from their earlier confrontation.

As she danced, Y/N's eyes found Max's across the room. The connection was electric, the tension between them palpable. She locked eyes with him, her movements becoming more deliberate, more provocative, as if she was challenging him, daring him to react.

Max's grip tightened on his glass, his heart racing. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, locked in a silent, charged exchange. He wanted to go to her, to close the distance between them, but something held him back.

Suddenly, a large man approached Y/N on the dance floor, his intentions clear. He moved too close, his hands reaching out to touch her. Y/N tried to step away, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him with a force that made her stumble.

"What the fuck? Let go!" Y/N shouted, trying to free herself.

The man's grip tightened, his voice slurred with alcohol. "Come on, baby, don't be like that. Let's have some fun."

Panic flashed in Y/N's eyes. She was used to handling herself, but this man was larger and stronger, and the situation was spiraling out of control. She looked around for help, her gaze finally landing on Max.

Max's vision turned red as he saw the fear in Y/N's eyes. He pushed his way through the crowd, his protective instincts and anger flaring into his "Mad Max" persona.

"Get your hands off her," Max growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The man looked at Max, clearly unimpressed. "Who the hell are you?"

Max stepped closer, his glare icy. "I'm the fucking guy who's going to make sure you never touch her again. Now, let go."

The man sneered, but Max's cold fury was unmistakable. He released Y/N, but not before giving her a rough shove. She stumbled back, and Max caught her, pulling her close to him.

"You okay?" Max asked, his voice softening as he looked down at her.

Y/N nodded, but her eyes were wide, and she was clearly shaken. "Yeah, just... let's get out of here."

The man, not ready to back down, took a step towards them. "You think you can just walk away?"

Max turned back to him, his expression darkening. "I warned you."

Without another word, Max launched himself at the man, delivering a hard punch to his jaw. The man staggered back, and Max followed up with another punch, knocking him to the ground.

"Stay the fuck down," Max spat, his voice filled with anger.

The bouncers quickly moved in, grabbing the man and dragging him away. Max turned back to Y/N, his expression softening once again.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Let's get out of here."

The ride home was silent except for Y/N’s quiet sniffles. She stared out the window, her hands still trembling. The events of the night played over and over in her mind, and she couldn't shake the fear that had gripped her. She let out a silent sob, tears streaming down her face.

Max glanced over, his heart aching at the sight of her distress. Without saying a word, he reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Y/N looked at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She squeezed his hand back, drawing strength from his presence.

They drove in silence for a while longer before Max finally spoke. "You don't have to be scared anymore, Y/N. I'm here. I'll always be here."

Y/N nodded, unable to find her voice. The tears kept coming, and she leaned over, resting her head on Max's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as she sobbed into his shirt.

When they arrived at her apartment, Max turned off the engine and gently lifted her out of the car. She clung to him, too exhausted and shaken to protest. Max carried her inside, navigating the familiar path to her bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and sat beside her, brushing a stray hair from her face.

"Max," Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. "I was so scared."

Max's heart clenched. "I know. But you're safe now. That guy will never touch you again. I promise."

Y/N looked into his eyes, searching for the strength she always saw there. "Why are you always there for me? Even when we fight, even when we're at each other's throats, you're always there."

Max took a deep breath, his gaze intense. He wordlessly pulled her into a warm, protective hug. His strong arms enveloped her, pulling her close against his chest.

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, her voice a barely audible whisper. "I've dreamed about this."

Max’s heart skipped a beat. He held her tighter, his own emotions surfacing. "You’ve dreamed about this?"

She nodded, her voice muffled. "About being held like this… safe and cared for. I didn’t think it would ever actually happen."

Max tilted her chin up gently, looking into her eyes with a serious expression. "Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you."

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes filled with vulnerability. "What is it, Max?"

Max took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly. "I’ve been trying so hard to deny it, but I can’t anymore. I care about you more than I ever wanted to admit. The rivalry, the arguments—they’ve been a cover for what I really feel."

Y/N’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and relief washing over her. "Max, I’ve felt the same way. I’ve been pushing you away because I was scared of these feelings. I didn’t want to admit how much you mean to me."

Max’s fingers brushed a tear from her cheek. "I’ve been so caught up in the competition and the fights that I didn’t realize I was falling for you. But now, seeing you like this, I can’t ignore it any longer."

Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper. "It’s like everything else fades away when I’m with you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before."

Max’s gaze was intense, filled with affection. "You mean everything to me, Y/N. I don’t just want to win races with you; I want to be with you. I want to be the one who’s always there for you."

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness. "I want that too, Max. I want us to be more than just rivals. I want us to be together, through everything."

Max’s smile was tender as he leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "Then let’s make it real. Let’s be together."

Y/N nodded, her voice trembling with emotion. "Yes. I want that more than anything."

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss filled with all the emotions they had been holding back—passion, relief, and a deep, unspoken love. When they finally pulled away, their eyes locked, both of them knowing that their feelings were finally out in the open.

Max brushed a strand of hair from her face, his smile full of promise. "We have a lot to figure out, but we’ll do it together. I’m in this for the long haul."

Y/N nodded, her heart full. "Together. Always."

Max wrapped his arms around her again, holding her close as they lay down together, both of them finally at peace with the love they had discovered.

[rafesfavgirl]

with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

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[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Will Graham X Reader: Academic validation

Warnings: smut, switch reader x switch will, use of pet names (darling, baby), drinking, fluff, making out, penetration (p in v), cowgirl, oral (f receiving), handjob, female anatomy, gender neutral reader no use of y/n.

Word Count: 2,5K

You really should be paying attention to the lecture. And boy were you trying to but his fucking hands. His fucking hands were driving you insane. Every time he fidgeted with them as he spoke or used them to point out a particular aspect of the crime he was analyzing you found yourself distracted.

It wasn’t hard to have a crush on Will. He was an attractive guy. An attractive slightly older guy who passed off a sort of touch starved vibe. You had a thing for guys like that. The only problem was that he was your teacher. All though you didn’t think that should matter. You were an adult who was capable of making your own choices and so was Will. The real issue was the way that your little crush had started affecting your learning. You tried to pay attention to what Will was saying but as soon as your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips you could help but think of kissing him. You were so deep in thought you didn't notice him finish his lecture. And you didn’t notice as your colleagues shuffled out of the classroom. Your head snapped up at the sound of someone calling your name. Your eyes found Will's frame. He was sitting on top of his desk, eyes locked onto you. You stared at him in silence.

“You okay?��

His brows furrowed in worry as he continued to observe you. Gosh he was cute like this. You shook your head letting out a small laugh.

“Yeah. Sorry Mr.Graham must have gotten caught up in my own head.”

“Will’s fine.”

“Sorry what?”

“Oh uh you can just call me Will.”

“Oh okay Will. I’ll get out of your hair.”

You picked up your textbook, shoving it in your bag before moving down the steps towards Will's desk. You gave him a small smile as you made your way to the door.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

His question made you freeze. You turned around so that you were facing him. His hands were pushed up against his desk drawing attention to his muscles. You bit the inside of your cheek forcing yourself to focus on his face.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just noticed you haven’t been yourself lately. You usually participate a lot in class. But you’ve been really quiet this past week. It got me wondering.”

“Can i be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days and I'm having trouble keeping up in class. I didn't want to say anything because I know what everyone will say.”

“What will they say?”

“That I'm not cut out for this.”

Will let out an understanding hum. He pushed his body off the desk, turning his back to you as he made his way to his chair. You watched him, taking in how his body moved.  On instinct you found yourself moving towards his desk. It was as if there was some invisible force pulling you to him. 

“When I started teaching people thought I wasn't gonna last a week. They thought I was too odd. Too sensitive to handle a classroom dynamic. Do you know what I did?”

You shake your head. 

“I proved them wrong.”

Will grinned at you and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. A moment of silence passed over the room. Will was deep in thought. You could tell just by looking at him. You thought of going on your way but before you could move Will started to speak once more.

“Show me what you’re having a hard time with.”

“Oh no, I couldn't possibly do that. You have to go home and i-”

“Do you have plans?”

You didn’t, not unless you count eating dinner alone and watching a movie before bed as plans. 

“You’re sure I won't be a bother?”

“Not at all. Believe it or not I actually enjoy teaching. Could you just do me a favor first?”

“Yeah sure, what do you need?”

“Close the door will you?”

You placed your bag on Will’s desk before walking to the door. You stuck your head out looking at the empty hall. You shut the door carefully before turning around. Your eyes fell on Will's frame. He was sitting on his desk, his hand slicking back his hair as he waited for you.

You were stuck in a room with Will Graham. 

What had you gotten yourself into?

It turns out there was a lot more you’d missed then you had anticipated. Will didn’t seem to mind though. He went over every case you didn’t remember and never judged you for missing any clues. Even if they were kind of obvious. After a while the two of you drifted into other topics. You told Will about your life and he shared stories of his dogs. At some point Will had pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his desk and everything seemed to go downhill from there.

You were currently sitting on the floor desperately trying to breathe in between laughs. Will had just told you about the time Winston had run away and gotten sprayed by a skunk. 

“ I couldn't get the smell out of the house for a week. And the other dogs didn’t want to go near him. They treated him like he was contagious.”

“You’re kidding!” “I swear!” 

The sound of yours and Will's laugh filled the room again. He let out a deep sigh, finally managing to regain his breath. When you met his gaze he had a smile plastered on his face.

“What is it?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just been a while since I've done something like this.”

“What, gotten drunk in a classroom?”

“Had a fun time with someone.”

Your stomach did a flip at Will's words. You knew he wasn’t a typically social guy but you imagined he had friends. You’d seen him talking to Dr.Bloom a couple of times and couldn’t help but notice how he looked at him.

It was the same way you looked at him. 

“Hey.”

Will placed his hand on yours leaning his head to the side.

“Did I say something?”

“No. Sorry. Just having a hard time believing you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nevermind. I should get going. It's getting late.”

You rose from the ground. Will mirrored your movements, rising to his feet as well. You downed the last of your drink, placing your cup down on Wills desk. You accidentally knocked your bag down in the process, causing your things to go spilling out everywhere.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Here let me help.”

Will crouched down beside you helping you gather your things. The two of you moved without paying too much attention,  the alcohol in your system making you clumsy. Somehow you managed to knock your head into Will's nose.

“Oh shit sorry Will.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. You might be bleeding. Here let me take a look.”

You guided Will to his chair, your things forgotten on the floor. He sat down, his hand still applying pressure to his nose. You placed a hand on top of him, guiding him to let go. He understood your request. Your fingers moved carefully over his nose, trying to see if anything was bruised. Will hissed as you touched a tender spot.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m not a doctor but i don't think anything is broken. And you're not bleeding so you should be fine.”

Instinctively you placed your hand on Will's cheek. You watched him close his eyes, learning into your touch. Slowly Will opened his eyes. His blue orbs bore into you. He was looking up at you with puppy eyes. Your breath sped up at the sight. His lips parted slightly to whisper your name. Will's hand moved to the back of your leg. He pushed your body closer to his, hand wrapping around your thigh. You lifted your leg allowing him to guide you onto his lap. Will moved his head to the side, moving to kiss your wrist. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as he continued to kiss down your arm. A gasp left your mouth as Will pressed his face into your chest, his arms wrapping around your back as he desperately tried to be closer to you. You could feel his tongue though the fabric of your shirt. The feeling caused you to throw your head back as your hands made their way into Will’s curls. You heard him call your name again making you look down at him. He had his head against your chest, his beautiful blue eyes staring up at you.  

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Will pulled you down into him, allowing the two of you to be face to face. The kiss was gentle and far too quick for your liking. Your lips parted for each other. Will put his hand on your cheek. His thumb moved over your lips, caressing them. You opened your mouth, tongue darting out to lick the tip of his digit. Will let out a shuddered breath at the action. You smirked at him. 

“You should be careful darling. You don’t know who you’re playing with.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me?”

The grin that made its way onto Will's face could only be described as wolfish. Before you knew it Will had risen from his seat and placed you on the ground. He wasted no time working his way into your pants. You gasped as his fingers played with your folds.

“This wet already?”

“In all honesty i’ve been wet since we started talking.”

“Jesus baby.”

“I think about you a lot. In class. In bed. Anywhere really.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you think about?”

“Your hands, your back, what you’d look like naked.”

“So that's why you’re behind? Been to busy thinking of fucking me to pay attention.”

“Yes…”

Will tugged at your pants, pulling them down your leg. You lifted your hips to help him out. He lent down, placing a kiss to your thighs and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. Will grazed his teeth against your skin and then continued to kiss the spot.

“Will, please.”

“What do you want?”

“Anything, just please give me something.”

“Only cause you’ve been good.”

A moan broke from your lips as Will's tongue moved over your folds. You placed your hand over your face, head turning to the side as Will ate you out. He was skilled. A lot more skilled than you’d imagined him to be. The way his tongue moved over your pussy had you screaming out for him. Your sounds seemed to spur him on because whenever you let out a yelp, Will would focus all his energy into that spot. His palm was splayed against your chest, fingers gripping at your breast.

You wrapped your hands around Will's wrist dragging his hand up to your face. You placed two of his fingers into your mouth sucking on them eagerly. Will let out a grunt at the feeling, his hips moving against the carpet for some much needed friction. You watched him hump the carpet like a dog in heat and you couldn’t help but want to pleasure him too. You wanted to make him feel as good as he was making you feel because he deserved it. But at the moment you were far more focused on cumming.

“Will, baby, I'm so close…”

“Yeah. You gonna cum for me?”

“Ah Will-shit ugh-please.”

Will seemed to know exactly what you were begging for. He placed a kiss on your clit as he inserted two fingers into you. The combination of his fingers inside you, his tongue on you and the sight of the blissed out look on his face had you cumming in seconds. You yelled out his name, your hand tugging on his curls as you came. Will laid down beside you as you came down from your high. His hand went to his dick, tugging at his pants in an attempt to get some relief. You tried to catch your breath, tilting your head to look at Will. You noticed how he fidgeted with his hard on. You called out his name, making him tilt his head to look at you. 

“What is it?”

“Touch yourself for me.”

Will hesitated for a moment, eyes searching for your approval.

“It’s okay baby, you can touch yourself. It’s your reward for making me feel good.”

It was funny how quickly you managed to switch roles and by the look on Will's face you could tell he enjoyed it. Will opened his zipper, his hand moving to free his member. You inched closer to him, nuzzling your face into the croak of his neck. Will whined as he started stroking his dick. You unbuttoned his shirt, placing your hand on his skin. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he continued to pleasure himself.

“That’s it baby.”

“Oh fuck. Want to…”

“Tell me what you need, Will.”

“Need to be inside of you.”

“Okay, since you’ve been a good boy. I’ll give you what you want.”

You pushed your body off the ground, moving to be on your hands and knees. You crawled over Will's body maneuvering yourself so you were hovering over his dick. You placed your hands on his chest bracing yourself. Will humped into you causing his dick to nudge against your cunt. 

“Ah ah patience Will.”

“Sorry.”

Slowly you sank down onto his dick. His hands gripped your hips instinctively. You let out a breath, trying to adjust to his size. You clenched around Will, making him grunt at the feeling. You lifted your hips before dropping back down. Will moved in unison with you, his hand playing with your nipples as you continued to ride him. Your nails dug into his chest as you moved, the sounds he was letting out only spurring you on. You could feel your upcoming orgasm causing you to fasten your movements. 

“Fuck i’m gonna cum. Gotta get out darling.”

Will moved to tug you on him but you sank your nails into his shoulders. He looked up at you with a startled look. 

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside just please…fill me up. I want you to fill me up.”

You had no idea what your words did to him but it became clear a few seconds later. You barely had time to register Wills orgasm before your own ripped through you. You sagged onto his chest exhaustion finally catching up to you. Will placed a kiss on your neck before nuzzling his nose into you. You caressed his chest as you two tried to recover.

“Think you’ll be able to pay attention in class now?”

“No fucking way.”

Will's laugh filled the room, his chest vibrating against yours. You couldn’t help but grin at the sound.

[semischarmed]

Hunter

In all aspects but his hobby, Hunter was an all around normal guy. Your interactions with the man in Apartment 1B are few and far between, but you did know a few things. You knew he used to play college football. You knew he liked to go the gym every night- 6pm on the dot. You knew he came from a small rural town in the Midwest. But above all, you knew you wanted his delectable flesh all to yourself. 

Hunter liked to go out on weekends. Usually fishing. He seemed to also have a penchant for catching and releasing snakes. Why anyone would do such a thing felt like such a foreign concept to you, but it did spark a particularly devious idea.

You feign interest, listening to Hunter drone on and on about his latest trip. You did like the way his eyes beamed whenever he talked about his interests, but as far as you were concerned, the biggest catch of all was Hunter himself.

Now came the time to strike. “Damn, that actually sounds really fun... No one ever taught me to fish.” That seemed to have shocked him to his core. You shrug. “No one ever took me”. Hunter was eating it up.

“We should go fishing! Next week. I have some extra gear with me, maybe you could get some bait?” He exclaimed in boyish excitement. It was almost cute- and to be honest it turned you on a little, knowing the real purpose of the trip.

The trap was set.

- - - - - 

You eye the bucket of live bait in front of you. A mass of worms wriggling in a plastic container. Right below was a series of strange symbols in a circle of red ink. You stare at the large cut on your hand, before giving it a squeeze over the worms. To your right is a nondescript black book, you read its words as you continue to squeeze, watching the bait seize on contact and appear to die. You hastily bandage your hand. 

You’re not too concerned about any infections, since you knew this would be a one-way trip for the both of you. You pull up a photo of Hunter as you start to chant the next paragraph of words, pumping your dick with your non-injured hand. Because it’s a photo of Hunter, and because you can still distinctly remember his decadent musk from the night before, it doesn’t take long.

You let out an exasperated sigh as your seed begins to coat the bait. It doesn’t take long before the worms begin to wriggle again, now slick with cum and imbued with a piece of you. You moan as you feel each animal as an extension of yourself. You ball your hand into a fist and the worms respond in kind. Perfect. 

- - - - -

You can’t control your sheer horniness. The lake is quiet, aside from the soft sounds of wildlife and, as far as you can tell, it was just you and Hunter for miles. The sun beats down, drawing scents out of Hunter that felt downright divine.

“Told you I knew a spot,” Hunter beams, obviously proud of his secret fishing spot.

He eyes the live bait, pondering on it for a second. You can practically see the gears in his head try to reconcile why a seemingly innocuous pile of worms felt so inherently wrong and otherworldly. He shakes the feeling as you both enter the boat, gear in hand.

The boat sways a bit as you two drift further and further from shore. Your original plan was to draw it out, make it look less intentional, but every moment outside of Hunter felt like a waste.

“Wow, I never realized how rocky these boats w- AAahhh” you scream, as you “accidentally” spill the bait all over Hunter. “Sorry!” It takes all your willpower to not get hard at the sight of Hunter unknowingly covered in pieces of yourself, soaked in your cum.

Ever the cool guy, Hunter laughs off your faked-clumsiness. Though obviously a bit disturbed. “It’s alright, can’t go fishing and not expect to get a little dirt- OOoohhh Ah!” Hunter’s back arches as he feels a cum-soaked worm slip between his clothing and travel down his spine. You order the rest of the worms to follow suit, finding any opening, any crevice to invade.

Hunter starts shaking and screeching, gesturing at you to steer the boat back to shore.

You keep the ruse, steering the skiff into a small island in the middle of the lake. As soon as you make your emergency docking, Hunter is running out of the boat attempting to shake off the worms. Somehow, he is able to catch your first worm before it can slip into his ass crack. “Fuck!” He screams as he stomps on it. That ticks you off.

As he jerks back and forth, you feel a few more parts of yourself shaken off. He can still feel the rest of your bits slipping and sliding beneath his clothes so he starts stripping as well. At last, you feel one worm slip through. 

He whimpers as he feels a cum-coated worm start to enter his piss slit. As you will it to go through, you can’t help but moan. It was an intrusion of the highest order, and feeling some of his seed mix with yours was pure euphoria. His face flashes to you in horror before he too moans involuntarily. It must have been a uniquely violating experience. To add to the confusion that must have been plaguing his mind, you start to strip down as well. He’s in full shock now, unable to stammer out any response. You use those precious moments to ram him into the ground, jamming a handful of worms right into his screaming mouth. 

The small tussle leads to a few cuts on his otherwise perfect flesh, but you capitalize on the opportunity and will the worms he shook off earlier back into his body through these makeshift orifices. You watch Hunter’s face go beet red, neck veins enlarging in struggle, as a giant mass of you floods into his screaming mouth. He manages to regurgitate a good amount, but enough of you is already inside. Before he can shake your main body off, his hips buck forward, hands grabbing his own ass in shock. More worms burrowing into him. This time, from behind. You make sure these pieces of yourself stimulate his g-spot, leaving him bound to inaction by senseless pleasure. You pin his grimy, convulsing body with the weight of yours, relying mostly on the sensory overload to lock him in place as you claim your hunt. 

Hunter’s breaths are hot, damp and shallow with struggle. You take this moment of preoccupation to take an early taste, bringing your lips over his. One of your worms already deep in his flesh stimulates a few nerves, forcing him to reciprocate. More slip in between muscle tendons, willing his arms into a loving embrace. He’s seething, as he feels his own flesh pulling you two closer. The corners of his lips tremble, fighting the commands you inundate them with. Resistance wanes, as he feels his face pull into a seductive smile. It’s entirely out of character and he feels the sheer wrongness in the personality you force him to wear.

“T-told you I could teach you to fish,” he speaks in velvet, winking before leaning in for a kiss. Hunter’s surprisingly soft lips slowly part yours, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth. 

His eyes seared with rage, but his face reflected a completely different emotion. You make him pull the most obscene smile you can sculpt with your control over his facial muscles. His tongue retracts, eyes briefly showing relief before it reenters in a more forceful manner. You stifle a moan.

Hunter shivers slightly, rubbing more of his sweat over you, as you make him shake off another attempt to reassert control. He was not going to ruin this. His smile widens as his tongue gently swirls in your mouth, coating you with his saliva and bombarding you with his taste. It then wrestles yours, briefing locking your two forms into one. With the smuggest grin you can squeeze out of him, you make him breathe into you, and you into him. His lips moving make yours move as well, though the words he is forced to speak were yours to begin with. “Fuck yeah,” he moans loudly into your mouth. You feel his deep voice reverberate into your mouth, down your throat where it resonates outward. It practically feels like he’s speaking through you. You can’t help but cum, basting more of his flesh with your seed. That sets him off enough to rip away from the extended kiss, spitting revulsion at your face.

You lick your mouth clean. Waste not, want not. Besides, Hunter tastes delicious. He is able to struggle again, rebellion renewed by the sheer horror at his brief glimpse of his future as your puppet.

You feel command waning. You try to rile yourself up in opposing anger, but you can’t help but admit the push and pull turned you on a little. Besides, to have the strength and will able to fight off all the sensations of your wriggling mass entering every port in his body at once only made you want Hunter more.

Feeling your hardening dick press upon him only served to anger the thrashing man further. You sync with your worms, commanding the wriggling mass to move in tandem. In every second of control, you make him play with your bodies, forcing him to grab your hips and center your main body above him grind into you from below. Fuck. You moan.

To be so new to his body, you lack the finesse to control your new vessel fully, so Hunter’s movements are downright vulgar. He grabs your ass with a dominating grip, pulling into a nasty smirk while licking his lips. “Make me yours.” Instantly, his demeanor changes as he fights off your control again. His hands grip dirt, clawing in agony as he tries to get his bearings. Slowly but surely, you feel the dance of authority between you two slow, as your worms settle into more efficient positions in his body. This time, it’s Hunter who’s body grabs a handful of your remaining worms, and, with the biggest shit-eating smile you can get out of him, stuffs his mouth full of it. 

Most of the worms are now safely tucked inside your new home, so you ease up on Hunter. He looks to you in rage as he continues choking, as his muscled arms and legs flail useless, and as your worms find crevices inside of Hunter to slink into. Now, he too can feel how deep into his being these pieces of you are going, so he starts hyperventilating. That just turns you on even more, feeling those powerful lungs of his heave. You couldn’t wait for these to be fully yours to play with.

His body trembles as he tries in vain to stop his kind face from contorting into another lewd smile. Seeing him as your puppet? Watching his flesh defile itself- feeling Hunter do it with your smile shining through? It’s enough to get your new jockbound dick instantly hard. You drool at the sight of Hunter’s enlarging dick. “Complete me,” he moans.

You start by hijacking his genetic material. Your wormy mass is quick. It wriggles deep into his crotch. His body grunts as his hands grasps at his own flesh. ‘Something is wrong’, He feels his body telling him. At least, even more wrong than you had already made it. And something was indeed wrong. You were not content in having, binding, commanding Hunter’s form. You wanted more. 

His face winces in pain as he feels his own brain memories recall his memories for you.

It was nice day in the park with his parents. The warmth of the sun and the light breeze framed the idyllic memory. Then you make him taint it. “Fuck yeah.” It pains his brain to continue, but you press on. “Can’t believe those two bred all this… I’m getting hot just thinking about it.” His face twitches until he is ultimately forced to lick his lips. “Get nice a strong, lil me. Build up those muscles so we can be the perfect puppet for him.” At that, Hunter recoils at feeling his own flesh generate pleasure from the thought you make him have. “I’m your perfect muscle sleeve. Use me.” He gagged as his own younger self in his memory anachronistically replied back. “Hell yeah, can’t fucking wait to be worn.”

Totality. You wanted it all. Past. Present. Future. You force his mind to linger on that last point before a payload of your worms burrow into his balls.

Instantly, you gorge the bits of yourself inside him on his seed. Squeezing each writhing worm into them. Outside Hunter’s body, your main body gasps. Mmmm. Strong genes. You make Hunter’s own hands dance across his flesh, fondling himself inappropriately. His insides fared no better. Hunter’s baby batter factory had been hijacked. Fully controlled. Fully infested. Fully yours. Your wriggling mass is no longer thin. They’ve been enhanced. Imbued with Hunter’s strength. Inlaid with your perversion. You feel them start to expand to their true size and form so you will them to spread throughout Hunter’s body and recondense. His tough muscle and flesh provides enough pressure to keep your new offspring together in a manageable size, just barely.

The next few moments are intense. You immediately back from the heat. Hunter whimpers as he collapses. Body twitching in odd places, skin bulging and then receding as your “offspring” together churn inside him. They find more areas to settle into. This time, Hunter is whining for a different reason. His body was not fighting the intrusion at all. That makes your dick stir. You feel his own seed coating your worms like your own personal Trojan horse. They easily slip into the cores of his muscles, cores of neurons. He tries to will his body into a fight but it’s useless. Betrayal and frustration. You feel these thoughts course in Hunter’s mind. He’s yours.

You can now feel every neuron, every cell and fiber of Hunter’s being scream and fight as you force him to speak his next words. He wraps you in a big bear hug, dousing you in his testosterone-laden sweat. In the sultriest voice you can force out of his vocal cords, Hunter looks to you with a convincingly earnest stare. “I want you to be my boyfriend”. 

= = = = =

The people have spoken and they want “naughty”, I may still work up the “nice” one, at some point.

There’s more parts to this one, but it’s already a bit long.

[candycandy00]

Office Life (Shigaraki x Reader)

Just Shigaraki awkwardly fantasizing about the cute receptionist who works in the same office building as him. You guys let me know if you like this quick “imagine” format for when I don’t have a full fanfic idea.

Smut. 18+. Violence/Blood (not Reader’s). Gender neutral Reader. Dubcon.

Shigaraki, who never had much interest in sex before, when he was so busy with the League and the war. Sure he jacked off to hentai every now and then, but the thought of having real life sex with a real live person didn’t really enter his brain. 

Until now. 

Shigaraki, who is fresh out of prison and working a dumb office job as part of his “rehabilitation”. Who is ignored and avoided by most of his coworkers because of his very publicized past. 

Shigaraki, who just can’t understand why you’re nice to him, why you smile at him so sweetly, like he’s an actual human being and not a monster. Why you, the cute receptionist from down the hall, keeps coming into the office he works in with five other men, desks all lined up neatly. 

Shigaraki, who likes that you look at him and acknowledge him, but sometimes has the irrational urge to show you how terrifying and monstrous he can be, to make you fear him the way everyone else does.

Shigaraki, who sometimes has violent fantasies about you that he will never act upon. Like today when you come into the room to share cookies you baked and brought in to the office. You, having such an obvious crush on him that even a socially inept weirdo like him can tell, blush and smile shyly when he takes a cookie from the box you hold out to him. 

Shigaraki, who has no idea what you could possibly like about him, but feels a little smug that the rest of the guys in the office are clearly jealous. 

And as you move toward the back of the room handing out cookies, constantly glancing back to see if he’s eating his, as if wanting his approval, Shigaraki’s dark fantasy takes over again. 

He imagines standing up from his chair and moving through the room, decaying each man in turn, most of them still holding their dumb fucking cookies, only to reach the back, where you’re cowering in a corner, trembling with fear as blood pools around your feet. 

You turn around to look at him, terror in those big wet eyes of yours, and then the pleading starts. He imagines you begging him not to kill you, babbling promises to not tell anyone, confessing your love in some desperate attempt to win his favor. You’re still clutching your frilly pink box of homemade cookies in your shaking hands. 

In his fantasy, he has perfect control over his quirk at all times, and with no effort at all he can decay the clothes right off your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable in the room full of bloody chunks. And you drop the cookies in your shock, trying to cover yourself with your hands. 

He won’t allow that. He’s wondered what you look like under your clothes for too long. And so he roughly pulls your hands away, getting an eye full, before shoving your back onto the nearest desk, spreading you open and unbuckling his pants. 

In this fantasy, you always struggle at first. But after he starts fucking you hard, you begin moaning his name, wrapping your arms around him, looking up at him with teary eyes and blushing cheeks as he rails you. 

Shigaraki, who snaps back to reality when you walk by him, the scent of your floral perfume drawing his attention. You look at the uneaten cookie in his hand and a flash of sadness crosses your face. He hurries to take a bite, and tries to give you a smile that isn’t creepy. 

You smile back, and he knows for a fact he will never, ever act on his worst impulses with you. Because far more than his desire to show you how much of a villain he can be, he wants you to keep smiling at him. 

And someday, maybe he’ll stop being a fucking coward and ask you to go to a movie with him. 

[permanentswaps]

The Cursed Hunk, Pt. 4

Read Part 1 and Part 2 by @manswaps and Part 3 by me.

Jared’s POV

I darted towards the bathroom, my body pulsating with an intense horniness that made it hard to think straight. As I rounded the corner, I collided with someone, nearly bouncing off their solid frame.

"Whoa, watch it!" a deep voice rumbled. I looked up to see an older, muscular guy with short silver hair and massive pecs standing before me. He was shirtless and clearly enjoying showing off his impressive physique.

"Sorry, man," I muttered, my breath catching at the sight of his muscles. "I just... I'm so horny right now. I need to get off or get out of this body."

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued and a bit confused by my frantic words. "Get out of this body?" he repeated, skepticism evident in his voice. "What do you mean by that?"

I glanced around, making sure no one else was listening. "This body isn’t mine," I explained in a low voice. "I swapped into it. It’s a long story, but I need to swap again, and fast."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Sounds like a kinky game you’re playing, kid. But sure, I’ll play along. What do you need?"

I sighed, frustrated but determined to make him understand. "No, it’s not a game. It’s real. I need to find someone willing to swap bodies with me."

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "So, you’re serious? You can actually swap bodies?"

I nodded vigorously. "Yes! Please, just trust me. I’ll show you."

He extended his hand, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Name’s Derell, by the way. Let’s see what you’ve got, kid."

Relief washed over me, and I quickly led him to a stall in the bathroom. Once inside, I had us verbally agree to the swap. Moments later, I found myself looking down at my new, older body, marveling at the sheer strength and bulk of it.

Derell, now in the younger body I had just vacated, looked around, wide-eyed. "Damn, this is incredible," he muttered.

Without wasting another moment, I pulled him into a passionate kiss, our bodies pressing against each other in the confined space. The sensation of his firm muscles against mine was electrifying, and soon we were lost in the heat of the moment, our bodies moving in sync as we fucked in the stall.

Derell leaned against the wall, catching his breath. "Damn, this body really is super horny," he muttered, a mix of relief and amazement in his voice.

I nodded, still adjusting to my new, older body. "Yeah, it has a mind of its own sometimes. But it can be fun."

Derell chuckled, running a hand over his smooth, younger chest. "I can see why you were so desperate. This is quite the experience." Looking back at me, he said "So, how does this swap thing work exactly? Is it permanent?"

I shook my head. "It’s all about agreement. As long as both parties consent, the swap can happen."

A sly grin spread across Derell’s face. "I can work with that," he said.

Before I could say anything else, he slipped out of the stall and headed back into the club. I quickly followed, pushing through the throng of dancing bodies to keep an eye on him. The club was packed, the bass thumping through the floor and the lights flashing in a mesmerizing pattern.

Derell wasted no time, diving into the crowd and immediately drawing attention. His new, younger body seemed to have a magnetic effect on people, and soon he was surrounded by a group of attractive men, all eager to get to know him.

I struggled to keep up, trying to weave through the sea of people. "Hey, Derell!" I called out, but my voice was lost in the cacophony of music and chatter. By the time I reached the spot where I had seen him last, he was gone.

Panic set in as I scanned the room frantically, my eyes darting from one face to another. Where could he have gone? I pushed my way through the crowd, checking every corner of the club, but there was no sign of him. The realization hit me hard: that body was the only way any of us had back to our original bodies, I just lost him, and who knows how many other people he could swap tonight. This is bad. Really bad.

I need to find Seth. Now.

Seth’s POV

As I sat in the lounge with Diego, I found myself becoming more relaxed and comfortable in my dad's body. Diego's charm and confidence made it easy to forget the initial awkwardness. His touch, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners—it all felt incredibly intoxicating.

"So, Marcus," Diego said, leaning in closer, "you ...."

He was interrupted by an older, muscular guy with short silver hair and massive pecs pushing through the crowd towards us.

"Hey," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I started to introduce him to Diego, unsure of who he actually was. "This is..."

"Jared," he finished, shooting me a look that clearly said we needed to talk.

"Uh, sure," I said, turning to Diego with an apologetic smile. "Give me a second?"

Diego nodded, a curious smile on his lips. "Of course."

Jared pulled me aside, his grip firm but not forceful. "We have a problem," he said in a low, apologetic voice. "I swapped with some guy named Derell. I can't find him, and he’s got that cursed body."

Realizing that this meant I said, "What the hell happened?"

"I know, I know," he said quickly, his tone genuinely remorseful. "But I need your help to find him. Otherwise we’ll be stuck like this."

I glanced back at Diego, who was watching us with mild curiosity. "Look, I'm kind of in the middle of something here," I said, my frustration evident. "I'm trying to enjoy this just like you said. You handle this."

Before Jared could argue further, Diego stood up and approached us. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said quickly. "Jared here just came over to tell me he wanted to head out soon and ask me if i had seen our other friend." I turned back to Jared “Sorry man I haven't, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find him, right?”

“Right,” Jared replied, “Sorry to interrupt.”

As Jared disappeared back into the club, Diego looked back at me and smiled. "Well, if everything's settled, how about we head back to my place? It's a bit quieter there."

My heart skipped a beat. "That sounds great," I said.

Diego's apartment was close by, a sleek and modern space that felt warm and inviting. As soon as the door closed behind us, he pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss. Any lingering tension melted away as we stumbled towards his bedroom, shedding clothes along the way.

In the bedroom, we fell onto the bed, our hands exploring each other's bodies with a hunger that felt insatiable. Diego's touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine.

"Haha, yours isn’t too bad either," I replied, letting my fingertips glide along his smooth, bare waist. The sensation of his skin under my touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine.

He reached over to his bedside table and handed me a bottle of lube. I squirted some onto my hands, warming it up between my palms before reaching down.

As I slipped one finger into his ass, he let out a soft moan, his body arching slightly. "Mmm, that feels good," he murmured.

I added a second finger, then a third, stretching him gently and watching his expressions shift with pleasure. "You ready?" I asked, positioning myself and lining my cock up against his hole.

"Yes, sir," he replied smugly, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

As I slid myself in, his cocky smile quickly turned to one of surprise. I guess my new cock was a bit bigger than he was expecting. He gasped, his eyes widening as he adjusted to the size.

"Whoa," he breathed, his hands gripping the sheets.

I started out with slow, deep thrusts, making sure to massage his torso as he took it. My hands roamed over his chest, rubbing and pinching his nipples, feeling his heartbeat quicken under my touch. His body responded eagerly, his moans growing louder with each movement.

"God, you feel amazing," Diego panted, his fingers digging into my back.

I increased the pace gradually, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The room was filled with the sound of our heavy breathing and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Diego's moans grew more urgent, his body trembling beneath mine. I knew he was close, and I was too, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level.

"Come for me," I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear.

With a final, deep thrust, Diego cried out, his body convulsing as he reached his climax. The sight of him losing control pushed me over the edge, and I followed him into bliss, every muscle in my body tensing and then releasing in a wave of ecstasy.

We lay there afterward, tangled together, our breaths slowly returning to normal. Diego turned to me with a lazy smile, his eyes half-closed in contentment. "You, Marcus, are something else."

I grinned, feeling a deep satisfaction that went beyond the physical. "So are you, Diego. So are you."

[average-mako-enjoyer]

crying screaming throwing up 1/3

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I just bitched about the lazy writing and world-building in Mass Effect, but I wouldn't love these games if they didn't have moments where everything was on point (or close to it): the writing, the animation, the voice acting, everything.

Here's one of my favorite scenes, it's very short and I bet you've never thought about it before, but it's so, so good, I'm obsessed with it and I have to scream.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that the only time that Shepard really freaks out is after the Mars mission. It happens right on screen, we don't hear it from someone else, we don't have to headcanon it, we get to see Shepard not as a protagonist, not as a savior of the galaxy, not as a soldier, but as an actual human being, simply scared shitless.

I also love that it starts with Liara immediately realizing what's going on. You can see that she freaks out too, because Shepard is freaking out, and the camera lingers on her reaction as it shifts from fear to sadness to understanding. And then we finally get to see the condition of our favorite Virmire survivor, and it's just oof.

When we go back to Liara, she already knows what to do.

And then we finally get to see Shepard. All these erratic movements are completely out of character. Throughout the three games, we only see Shepard move with some sort of intention (yes, because it's a game, and it's supposed to be that way, but think beyond that; it's also Shepard's characteristic as a person), and there's no intention in this. Shepard is holding on to the examination table, trying to lean down or move forward, and that's because now, in this situation, he can do nothing. No amount of self-sacrifice, quick thinking, tactical advantage, or stupid badassery will help. There's someone on that table he clearly cares about, and he has no say in the matter.

And Liara knows it. She leans forward to look Shepard in the eye and draw his attention to herself. She starts soft and pleading:

And dude, Shepard's expression is everything. It's sad and scared and open... again, completely out of character.

And then we can watch Liara's expression change when she sees that Shepard heard her. Her tone is no longer soft, it becomes quite aggressive.

It is all very deliberate. And it works! Shepard is still terrified, but he furrows his eyebrows and his expression closes. Now he looks more like the Shepard we all know and love.

Another change of tactics, and oh my god. Say what you will about my girl Liara, she is a real MVP here. Notice how she goes soft again and just gives Shepard a suggestion. She knows the best way to snap him out of his panic and sense of sheer helplessness is to push him to start giving orders again.

And again, it works! This sounds and looks like our usual Shepard.

Oh, I love these animations. The change from something hard-assed and in control to something vulnerable... Whoever animated this, let me kiss you on the mouth, let's ride into the sunset. You're beautiful and I love you.

✨Gentle touches✨ Not like our usual Shep at all.

Now to part 2 because I have even more gifs

[ollieolliewrld]

DMC Men on Valentine's Day (SFW/NSFW)

Gender-neutral reader! NSFW is marked before it begins for each <3

1.8k words

Dante 

☆Dante had never taken Valentine's Day seriously

☆Before he met you there was no real love in his life so the day meant nothing to him

☆With you in his life though, he is determined to make Valentine’s Day the best day of the year

☆Very stereotypical setup, he got the flowers, the candy, the floor covered in flower petals, and your shared apartment is fully lit up by candles

☆He is pulling out all of the stops by making you your favorite dinner and treating you to a romantic bubble bath

☆He has never done romantic stuff before and he’s actually really into it 

☆Dante finds decorating and setting everything up to be very fun and keeps imagining your reaction when you arrive home and see everything

☆When you do arrive home your reaction is better than he imagined as you wrap your arms around him tightly planting kisses on his lips, nose, and cheeks

☆You were not expecting this and are so grateful for the effort he put in 

☆First, he helps you take off your coat, takes your bags from you, and then leads you to the dining table where the food is set up

☆The meal is delicious and you can taste the love he put into it, he tells you how he had a small mishap while cooking and you both laugh and talk for hours

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆After dessert, Dante leads you into the bathroom where he has a bath ready for the two of you 

☆He stands behind you planting kisses on your neck and down your shoulders slowly taking off your clothes

☆Once you are down to just your underwear you start to undress him starting by taking off his shirt, kissing all over his chest, and running your hands over his abs

☆You drop to your knees as he reaches down to undo his belt, eagerly you pull down his jeans and boxers and are met with his semi-hard length

☆Taking your hand around it you spit onto his tip and spread it over the head of his cock beginning to stroke him

☆“God, I love the way you do that, Baby” Dante groans as he looks down to meet your eyes

☆You lock eyes with him as you take him into your mouth swirling your tongue his tip still using your hand to stroke him

☆Taking his cock further into your mouth prompts Dante to place his hand on the back of your head gently pushing you to take him deeper down your throat, “Just like that, you’re doing so well for me” 

☆You bob your head using your free hand to brace yourself until he stops you brings you up to standing and pulls you into a kiss

☆“You are so good to me, but today is about you,” he says as he takes your hand to lead you into the tub

☆Dante spends the night exploring your body and making sure you are satisfied before finally lying down in your shared bedroom where he has put several dozens of flower bouquets around 

☆He holds you against his chest drawing patterns on your back as he whispers about his love for you until you fall asleep 

Vergil

☆This man loves you more than you will ever know 

☆However, he is clueless when it comes to things like Valentine’s Day

☆This doesn't mean he isn't going to try as he does want to spend this day with you and show you how much you mean to him

☆Valentine’s with Vergil is simple and meaningful 

☆He plans to make dinner with you playing music while you two work together to prepare the meal

☆A song will come on that Vergil specifically made sure was on the playlist 

☆When the first note plays he stops what he’s doing to take your hand and pull you to his chest 

☆One hand goes to your waist and the other takes your hand in his as he leads you in a slow dance 

☆Having you close to him allows him to shower you with compliments and tell you just how much you mean to him

☆He ends the dance with a kiss on your cheek and you two go back to work 

☆You work seamlessly together to set the table and plate the food 

☆The meal is beautiful and the conversation you share is deep and full of love

☆After you are done eating you go to begin cleaning but Vergil stops you and hands you an envelope telling you he wants you to read it while he takes care of the dishes

☆Puzzled you nod and go to the couch to open the letter 

☆Inside is a beautifully written note recounting your relationship from the day he met you until now saying how grateful he is to have you in his life

☆You begin to cry before you can get to the end and by this time he has come to sit beside you wiping away your tears

☆“You are the world to me, the end to my suffering,” he says as he places a kiss on your lips

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆You deepen the kiss running your hand through his hair and gently tugging at his white locks

☆Vergil groans into your mouth pulling you onto his lap not once taking his lips off of yours

☆He places his hands on your ass gently squeezing as he pulls you into him

☆You begin to roll your hips into his starting to feel him harden underneath you

☆Breaking the kiss he leans his head to look at you fully

☆“Be good for me and get on your hands and knees” he asks guiding you with his hands

☆You happily oblige feeling him take off your pants from behind you 

☆Making quick work of your shirt you turn to see Vergil now undressed behind you slowly stroking his cock

☆He pulls out a bottle of your favorite lube and applies a generous amount to his now swollen member 

☆Placing a hand on your hip he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance

☆“Take it all for me, Baby,” as he slowly slides into you

☆His thrusts are deep starting slowly

☆He wants you to feel him fully each time he enters you

☆Grabbing your hips with both hands he guides you back to fuck yourself on his cock

☆Your moans fuel him as he changes the pace to a faster one 

☆When he’s about to cum he grabs your hair to pull your back against his chest 

☆As he finishes he whispers in your ear, “You are mine and I will never let you go” 

Nero

☆This man has all of the right intentions but cannot plan to save his life

☆He had so many ideas of what to do with you on Valentine’s Day, so excited to show you how much he loves and cares for you 

☆But he did not check his calendar and now here the two of you are on Valentine’s Day driving to kick some demon ass

☆He thought it was weird that Nico wasnt here to drive but he forgot about it as he was too focused on designing a bouquet of flowers for you in his head

☆Nero starts up a conversation as he usually does, you seem off but once again he is so preoccupied with what restaurant to make reservations at he figures that he’ll ask you about it later

☆It was a small job only taking the two of you about an hour and something falls out of your bag as you were packing things up

☆Nero picks it up thinking that he’s helping you but he notices that it’s a cutely wrapped box with his name on it

☆You see what’s in his hand and lock eyes with him unsure of what to say next

☆This is when it clicks, today is Valentine’s Day

☆Immediately he begins to apologize attempting to explain what happened and how he lost track of time and promising to make it up to you

☆You stop him and tell him that you aren’t angry and tell him to open the box

☆He opens it to find a note stating that you were sorry for forgetting what today was

☆You tell him that you also had plans for today but did not look at the calendar until today, only having time for what is currently in his hands

☆He starts laughing and pulls you into a bear hug, you two hold each other as you laugh over what happened realizing that a day didn't matter, the bond you had was unbreakable and the love you share is stronger than anything life throws at you

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆Getting back into the van all of the awkward air is gone and you can now just enjoy each other's company 

☆You look over at him from the passenger seat and start noticing how good Nero looks today

☆While he rambles on about what take-out food to get for tonight you begin to run your hand over his thigh

☆It takes a minute for him to pick up on what you’re up to but once you begin stroking his cock through his pants he shuts up

☆His grip on the wheel tightens trying to keep focus on the road

☆“You keep this up and we might crash, Sweetheart,” He says aware of how hard he is now

☆Taking this as a challenge more than a warning you undo his belt and he lefts his hips to pull his pants down freeing his cock already dripping with precum

☆You undo your seatbelt hoping to take him into your mouth but your plans come to a halt as you feel him abruptly pull over

☆“Get in the back now,” Nero says as he puts the van in park and takes the keys out of the ignition

☆Quickly you get to the back and undress watching as he does the same

☆Nero lays you on your back taking one of your legs in his hand and bringing it up to his shoulder

☆He spits into his hand and spreads it over his cock before he lines up with your entrance

☆Locking eyes with you he says, “I love you and I never want you to forget that,” as he pushes into you fully

☆The gasp that leaves your lips tells him everything he needs to know 

☆Fucking you in the back of a car was not what either of you planned on for Valentine’s Day but you know he will more than makeup for it when you get home

Author's note: This is my first NSFW post! I have more detailed posts that I am working on and will be writing longer and more detailed stories both SFW and NSFW for individual characters soon <3<3

[txmxkis]

i'm only really me when i'm here with you

pairing. boothill x gn!reader

genre. hurt/comfort

wc. 1.5k+

summary. you're determined to help boothill heal from his trauma by... doing his hair?

warnings. i took liberties with this, who knows what specific parts he actually has left or whether he can blush or not (in my heart he can lol), mention of boothill picking u up but i mean. he’s literally so strong he could handle anything, i made him soooo sad and it’s possibly wildly out of character, selfship coded as usual rip

a/n. continuing the tradition of using lyrics from songs on selfship playlists for fic titles lol. based on my tags on this post

they say that trauma is stored in the body, and while boothill didn't necessarily have a complete body anymore, this was still something that you thought about frequently when it came to his physical form.

regardless of just how much of his original self remained, there was still enough of him left that you were sure it had to be true in some capacity. after all, he retained his head and his heart—at least you were fairly certain—two of the most vital components of human anatomy.

it was so hard to read him. the real him. he tried so hard to always act confident and cool. actually, he didn't even really have to try or act. it seemed as if it came to him naturally and endlessly. there was a perpetual air of optimism surrounding him that was difficult to dim even on his most wearisome days.

even after experiencing whatever horrors he had to face from mission to mission, when he came home, the door to whatever room you were currently in would fling open—sometimes scaring you half to death—and he would greet you so happily that it felt as if there were no terrible things in the universe whatsoever.

you cherished his mannerisms, especially because you could be a pessimistic sort of person. rather frequently, in fact. you loved having him near you, able to draw laughter from you, however unwillingly it might be on your part at times. he was oddly skilled at making you feel assured and comfortable, in a way that nothing and no one had ever done before. you couldn’t seem to remember how you ever lived without his encouragement, and you didn’t think you could ever feel truly whole without it again.

there really was no accounting for his relentlessly positive attitude. given what he'd seen and endured, you thought it was damn near impossible to be as carefree as he seemed to be. at any rate, he did manage it. however, there were times, moments he rarely ever allowed you to witness, in which his façade would falter slightly and betray just how heavily the past weighed on him.

occasionally, you would catch him staring at his reflection, a downcast expression painting his beautiful features. every time you spoke of your family, you could detect glimpses of sadness in his eyes, albeit hidden behind a smile. once you even caught him crying as silently as he could—you assumed so as not to alert you—his shoulders sagging under an unforeseen weight, a look on his face that you could only describe as heartbroken. your own heart broke with his in that moment.

you always tried to be particularly attentive following those moments, but it was so difficult to get him to open up to you. he just wanted you to be happy. to not bother worrying about him. you had your own problems, after all, and there was no need for him to add to your burden. no need for him to ask for your pity.

he knew you cared for him deeply enough that it would cause you pain, and even if it was only a fragment of the grief that he lived with every day, he was sure that he would feel terribly and incessantly guilty about it. if he could remove every single aspect of your life that caused you suffering, he would do it in a heartbeat, and he could say that because it was one of the few original parts he had left. how could he add to that suffering by forcing you to imagine all the horrors from his own life?

it took so much time and effort on your part to convince him to open the door to himself, if even just a tiny crack. he was still extremely careful with his words and the details that he disclosed to you—he didn't want to overwhelm you, and he certainly didn't want to hurt you. in reality, these conversations, painful as they were for you to hear, actually helped you to feel as though you could comfort him more effectively.

yes, it hurt immensely to know even a small fraction of how much anguish he had experienced. yes, you despised the people who had done this to him and wanted to fight them yourself, in fact. yes, your chest felt tight with ache and sadness on his behalf. still, you could help him more by knowing than by not knowing.

eventually, you were able to make it this far, brushing through his hair as gently as your hands could manage. he had confessed to you in one of his more vulnerable moments that the white shock of hair on his head often served as a stark reminder of worse times, of the trauma and stress inflicted on his body. the admission gave you an idea, one that made boothill feel more than just a little bit exposed. he wasn’t accustomed to being looked after like this, with so much affection and love.

you began to make a routine out of it. every day you would do something with his hair—whether it was braiding it and tying it up intricately to make him feel pretty or simply combing through the strands and allowing them to cascade around his shoulders and down his back.

sometimes you would sit him in front of a mirror while you worked so that he could see exactly what you were doing in the moment. he didn’t quite understand how it all came together, but he found it fascinating to see how you twisted and weaved. at times, you were so focused on the hair in your hands that your brows would furrow, tongue poking out slightly between your lips. in the reflection, you genuinely looked like you were enjoying yourself.

even more noticeable to him was the expression you wore when you looked at him through the mirror. your gaze was so full of tenderness that his chest ached. he could swear that his heart actually skipped a beat. whenever that happened, you could see a flaring blush creep up his cheeks and into his ears, and you couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit at how endearing it was.

other times, you would settle on the couch, with him seated on the floor between your legs, adorning his hair with the cutest accessories, the two of you laughing and joking the whole time. you would delicately twist the locks back, securing them with pretty, multicolored clips that shone in the light.

when you were done, you would lead him slowly to a mirror, hands over his eyes, nearly stumbling over his legs as you walked behind him. you would pull your hands quickly from his face, revealing your handiwork, beaming with pride and grinning at how adorable he looked. he loved every minute of it—and every bit of you, he would think to himself as he turned to pick you up and spin you around, laughing in that deep voice of his. then he’d set you down gently, thanking you for your hard work with kisses sprinkled across your face.

days that were particularly trying for him would simply be spent in comfortable silence. when he didn’t feel like talking from the pain of it all, he would wordlessly lay his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his long locks. feeling your touch—the slight pull on his scalp, the tickle of shifting hair—it all made him feel so relaxed that he could melt right into your skin until you absorbed him fully into you. often, the combination of this and the gentle, steady beat of your heart would lull him to sleep, and seeing his expression ease and soften in these moments was all the reward you ever needed.

in the beginning, it was unclear whether this dedicated time spent caring for his hair was helping or not. over time, however, you noticed a glimmer in his eyes—something that told you he would be alright, despite everything.

pain still remained; it always would, but instead of constantly gazing at his reflection with grief, every once in a while you would catch a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. it was as if he was remembering how you hummed while placing those clips, or how he had teasingly whipped you with his hair on a more playful occasion, or any number of positive memories that you had put so much effort into lovingly crafting with him.

you were determined to do your best, slowly but surely, to lighten his burden—or at least help carry it. there was no reason for him to feel alone when he had you by his side. and if creating these happy memories was what you had to do in order to help him, well, you would gladly continue forever.

reblogs & interactions are appreciated! thank you for reading! <3 — txmxkis

[onsunnyside]

thinking of JJ teaching you how to kiss 🥺 starting off with little pecks that slowly drag into short kisses. you try hard to follow his lead, but your inexperience is so painfully obvious 😖

this drabble has been turned into a fic 😋 here’s the masterlist: what friends are for

allow me to set the scene: it’s movie night at the chateau, beers and snacks litter the floor, everyone is tucked under blankets as the opening credits flicker on the television screen.

as the marathon went on, JJ couldn’t help but notice that you’d look away during the sex scenes. as your best friend, he knew you weren’t the most experienced, but kissing? “You’ve never been kissed?”

You cover your face, embarrassment flooding in. “You don’t have to say it like that!”

“I’m not—I’m not teasing.” His smile says different. He easily pulls your hands away from your face, “it’s just not what I was expecting.”

“I know, I know. You probably find it so funny.” You huff and roll your eyes, “laugh all you want, jerk.”

And like you expected, he does but quickly apologizes. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But not in a bad way! It’s actually cute.”

Cute?

“It’s adorable.” He coos, pinching your cheek, “itty bitty baby hasn’t had her first kiss… not even with that poster in your bedroom?”

ooohh and when he kisses you: it’s so sweet, so tender. he tastes like beer and a bit of weed, and his lips are softer than they look. he’s slow and steady, pressing his forehead against yours while you take a break.

“You can breathe while we kiss.” He chuckles, nudging your nose with his, “don’t want you passing out on me, sunshine.”

One of his hands slip behind your neck and the other falls to your thigh, warm and gentle. “Do you want to stop?”

You glance at your friends, still passed out on the floor and other couches, the movie playing dully in the background. “No?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“No.” You repeat, firmer this time. “I don’t want to stop. Pl-Please don’t stop.”

How could JJ deny you? Especially when you ask so dreamily with that glazed look in your eyes. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and touch you all over, and make you into a pretty mess. So he connects your lips again, taking the lead and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The unmistakable wet noises make you a little tingly 😖 along with him tilting your head to kiss you deeper. “You can touch me too,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to the back of his neck, your fingers automatically curl in his blond hair and draw a low groan from his throat.

That’s when you go completely dumb, totally thoughtless, all concerns flying out of your mind and joining the blue birds above your heads.

JJ pulls away, voice raspy, “you keep forgetting to breathe, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” you exhale heavily, heart fluttering in your chest. “I’m not good at this yet.”

His lips trail to your jaw, the movie long forgotten, “It’s okay, we have lots of time to practice.”

I just know he’d offer to teach you other things too, all in the realm of pleasure and intimacy 😌

some over the clothes touching, getting hot and heavy in your bedroom after he sneaked in through the window:

“You gotta keep quiet, baby,” he coos, rubbing your swollen clit through your panties, your juices soaking the poor cotton, “I know it feels good, feels real nice when I play with your pretty pussy, huh?” He can only imagine how you’d taste, “Are you paying attention? You’re gonna have to show me what you learnt after we’re done.”

[froggiewrites]

Picture You (1/4)

Pairing: Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader

NSFW

Summary: The crew is celebrating their latest victory when they find you on their laps, drunk and clingy and affectionate, begging for attention. Sanji and Zoro both deal with a clingy drunk, and have deal with the unwanted feelings it brings from deep within them. Warnings: Masturbation, Self Loathing, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sanji has a praise kink, Hurt/Comfort (comfort in future chapters) Word Count: ~2k Notes: This chapter is just Sanji, next chapter will be Zoro's. Also this is in third person, which I know is kind of uncommon for reader inserts, but it felt right for this one! Crossposted from Ao3 Next Chapter

Sanji is in hell.

He thought this was heaven, this deck with these people, surrounded by warmth and love and women, as they drank and sang. It felt real and right in a way the rest of the world never had. Nami was laughing as she and Usopp swapped stories, and his angel...she had graced him with a smile that he swore stopped his heart. She was normally reserved, meek, so worried to draw attention, like she was afraid to live in the sun. He had always wondered what she would be like without fear, with reckless abandon, and now, a few drinks in, he has gotten to see it. She's giggly, overjoyed, and, most importantly, touchy.

He had brought her another drink, hoping to receive nothing more than a gentle smile and a quiet thank you, and she instead gifted him with something he couldn't even have imagined: her chest brushing against him, her hands on his chest, her face so close to his he could feel her breath as she whispered, “Thank you, Sanji.” 

She lingered, and he was frozen, face flushed, before slightly adjusting his hips back out of precaution. He didn't want to risk scaring her away, as her eyelids drooped and she gave him a pouty look he had often dreamed about. 

“You're so wonderful, Sanji, y'know that? So wonderful. And caring. And nice. And good.”

Her words were a little slurred. She didn't know what she was saying, but that was okay. Just to hear it, to feel her sincerity, even when misguided, was enough to bring a tightness to his chest. She thinks he's good. It cuts somewhere deep, somewhere he doesn't like to dwell, and he narrowly avoids his insides pouring out, a confessional to his goddess of all his sins, his wrongs, and his wish for acceptance. 

But he doesn't fall to his knees quite yet. He stays on his feet, and instead focuses on a different thought, wrong and dirty and surely a disappointment to her but one much easier to swallow: her voice, low and warm as it is now, whispering about what else he is. One phrase comes out above the rest, and he pulls his hips back a little further.

Good boy, her voice in his head whispers. You're doing so good, Sanji, you're making me feel so wonderful.

He swallows, tries to screw his head on right, but he subtly presses their chests together anyway. He can't help it. Her hands slide upwards, reaching to rest behind his neck. 

“I've missed you, y'know. You haven't come and sat with me all night!” Her smile is goofy and toothy, entirely unconcerned with how it might look. She doesn't smile like that often; he's privileged to see it.

Her mouth is doing something else in his mind.

He allows his hands to rest on her hips. He can repent later. 

“Oh yeah? You missed me?” His voice is deeper, and he prays it sounds cool and purposeful and not like he's trying to hide how unbearably horny he is right now.

“I did,” she chirps, leaning closer. He can feel every inch of her breasts, the ones he has tried so hard not to familiarize himself with despite how often his eyes would drift to them. His hands twitch, but he manages to resist the urge to grab them, to roll the nipples he can feel through her shirt through his fingers like he's imagining.

“I’ve missed you too, angel.” He leans closer, and he can see her pupils dilate as she bites her lip. In his head she continues to whisper such lovely things, more and faster and I love you, Sanji!, but he pushes them down. She's in front of him now, asking so nicely for his attention, and to wish for more is a sin he could never repent enough for.

“Will you stay? I want you to stay.” Her voice is nothing more than a whine, and the sound cuts right through him. She pulls him closer, their noses brushing, and if he didn't know better he would think she was about to kiss him.

“Anything you ask, angel.” She doesn't know how much he means it. She doesn't know how much he wants to be here, with her, against her, in her. She is everything, and he is nothing, but still she asks him to stay, as horrible and twisted and unworthy as he is. Even now, as his hands slowly slide down to her ass, she's asking him to stay. Does she not understand? Is she simply too good to understand how unworthy he is, they all are, to stand beside her?

He sits on the deck, pulling her down with him, long legs on either side of her. She begins to shift forward, and he feels his stomach drop with both fear and excitement. On the one hand, he's hard as a rock and she's about to feel it. On the other, he's hard as a rock and he's about to feel her. He's frozen, unable to figure out if he should stop her or not, and by the time his brain catches up she's already straddling him. Her chest rubs his, her plush thighs wrap around his hips, and her warmth rests so very close to his crotch.

Sanji quickly realizes this problem is going to be much worse than initially expected.

Her cold nose nuzzles his neck, and she whispers to him, “This is just as good as I thought it would be.”

She thought about him.

She thought about wrapping herself around him, sitting on his lap, not caring about the rest of the crew watching. She couldn't know the implications of this, his angel, his pure, sweet goddess. She can't understand what she's doing to him. She can't be thinking about how he can feel her nipples through her shirt, about how he can see right down it, about how her lips feel resting against his neck. She certainly can't be thinking about how his cock feels pressed against her inner thigh.

She shifts, and he can't repress the moan he lets out, quiet enough he thinks he might be lucky enough for her not to have heard.

“What a pretty sound.” Her voice is a purr, and he feels her lips brush against his neck.

Jesus Christ.

Her head shifts from his neck, and they're looking each other in the eye now. 

“You're so beautiful, Sanji, y'know? So pretty.” Her lips get closer. her thigh moves again, and he bites the inside of his cheek so hard it might bleed. She doesn't know, he insists to himself. She's just drunk, and innocent, and he's an evil and vile man for allowing it to get so far.

His hips jerk upward.

In his head, she's on a bed, pressed against silk sheets. Their hands are intertwined. Her face is twisted with pleasure, and he’s the one giving it to her. She's so lost in it she's near tears, little moans eking out of her mouth, and he is too much a gentleman to tease her, so they're growing louder with each and every thrust. She is around him, tight and warm and wet, holding him in because she wants him. She wants him there, with her and inside her, and he is there because he will give her anything she wants.

In reality, she is still obstructed by clothing, but he can almost feel a wetness against him. His imagination, surely. She's staring him in the eyes, her pupils blown wide from the alcohol, and she is near unblinking. She is doing the same in his head. She is looking at him. By god, she is looking at him, and she does not find him lacking. She is looking at him and she wants him.

Her thigh shifts again.

She whispers to him, “Y'know, Sanji, I really care about you. I don't think I say that enough. I really, really care about you.”

He manages to mostly choke down the sound, but he can't keep his hips still as they jerk into her clothed core. He feels the stickiness fill his pants, the warmth, the shame, but he keeps staring in her eyes all the same. She leans closer. He can feel her breath on his lips. He can feel her hands begin to slide down his body, as they very deliberately grab at his chest. And lower. And–

“I need to go.” He shoots up, practically shoving her off of his lap. He can still feel it, and worse, he's getting hard again just looking at her, as his brain continues to use her voice to say the most terrible, wonderful things. As it whispers again and again, 

I care about you, Sanji. 

Please stay, Sanji. 

I love you, Sanji. 

Sanji, Sanji, Sanji!

“But I–” He doesn't let her finish before he sprints below deck. God forbid she sees. God forbid anyone see. The rest of the crew were feet away. They could have seen, could have heard. Could know what a horrible, vile pervert he is.

He ignores how his pants tighten even further at the thought.

He slams into the bathroom, barely remembering to lock it behind him, before ripping his pants off. He looks down as his cock springs out, and he just barely remembers to feel shame before bringing his hand to wrap around it, still sticky. 

What a horrible man he is. How awful. How evil.

You're such a good boy, Sanji.

Maybe he is horrible. Maybe he really is a monster.

You're so good for me. So right.

No one would care for him, twisted as he is. Not if they knew better.

I love you, Sanji.

He cums again, tears running down his face, imagining a world where he deserves it. Where he is better. Where he is whole. Where she looks at him like she did on the deck, like she did in his dreams, and he feels no shame or bitterness for it.

He's quiet as he cleans himself up. He makes sure he gets it all, and he doesn't allow the thought of her tongue cleaning it up instead to take root. Instead he shoves himself back into his pants, filthy as they are, and makes his way above deck again, drinks in hand. He has to make up for this, for himself, for it all.

His eyes search for her, as they always do, and he nearly screams at the sight.

She's curled in Zoro's lap, face pressed into his chest, arms wrapped around his midsection. That wretched, bastard swordsman isn't even looking at her as he takes another drink, one arm wrapped around her protectively. It turns his stomach. It makes him want to cry. It makes the little voice in his head just a bit louder.

At least he isn't a monster.

At least he isn't using her for his own satisfaction.

His hands shake as he hands her her next drink, but she smiles at him anyway, unaware of what happened below deck. Unaware of the turmoil she's putting him through. Innocent, innocent, innocent.

She smiles at him, warm and kind and a little sleepy. “Thank you, Sanji. I can always count on you.”

And she can. No matter his sins, no matter what other horrible sickness plagues his mind, she can count on him. That has to count for something.

That night, he dreams of her thighs, her breasts, her lips. her voice.

I love you, Sanji.

He wakes up alone.

[deepfivetraveller]

King Baldwin x Time!Traveler!reader

chapter 1

Chapter 2 here

Okay I’m a little new to writing romance so please take it easy on me. Btw I’ll try to keep y/n as neutral as possible but since this is set in the ancient era and religion is very important, y/n shall be hinted as being Hindu since that’s the only one that seems neutral in this situation.

“Alright that's all for the lesson. And since its complete I expect all of you to be thorough with ‘Life of King Baldwin iv’ during this weekend since there will be a test on this very topic next wednesday. Have a great weekend by the way.” The professor stands up and closes his laptop and all the other students start packing up.

“He had a pretty hard life didn’t he?” One of your friends chimes in. You look at her unsurprised. “You mean king Baldwins?”

“Duh! Poor man suffered an incurable disease almost his entire life! Imagine having skin infested in bacteria, euggh!” She recoils in disgust. “Imagine the cure to that disease being bacteria itself! Pretty sure Leprosy can be cured using multi antibiotic therapy.” Another friend joins in the conversation. You finished packing up your bag so you get up. “But no matter what, you gotta respect him. He never used his illness as an excuse to be a bad king.”

“That’s true….” Your first friend agrees. “He’s tough. When I catch a normal cold I give up all of my responsibilities since I’m sick. Wonder how hard it must have been for him.” All of you exit the classroom. A few minutes go by and topics have changed. A fun conversation lasted for a while before it was time to go, so you three parted ways.

As you entered your home your first thought was to take a cold shower after a long, hot and sweaty day. While eagerly hopping into the shower you get reminded of the conversation you had with your friends a while ago. What did king Baldwin even look like? There were no images in your textbook. Curiosity got the best of you, making you draw back the shower curtains to leave. You wrapped a towel and went towards the table where you kept your mobile, typed a quick ‘King Baldwin the 4th images’ and hit enter. Two images popped up. One being an actual painting from the 12th century while the other being an image reconstructed by scientists which looked…realistic to say the least.

His face in the second photo was majestic. His mouth and nose were almost non-existent, having only two triangular shaped holes instead of a nose. His skin was dry, withered and stretched while having the hue of a dry leaf during autumn. Even though he was severely disfigured his eyes were pure and bright, having a child like innocence towards them. King Baldwin was…Quite handsome.

Okay that’s enough now snap out of it! It’s probably just some AI prompt message image anyway. If anyone found out you found him handsome they’d call you crazy. Plus now is not the time to fangirl over a dead king, now's the time to study. In an attempt to distract yourself you pick up your books to do work. Hours painfully go by as you study but finally, finally it was bedtime. You could care less about eating dinner or even taking a shower, you plop yourself onto your bed and wrap the soft blanket around your body. Thoughts about King Baldwin strike your mind again. Seriously, what's wrong with you?! Why is this man plaguing your thoughts all day?

A sigh escaped your mouth from irritation. If only it was possible to console him for his losses or better yet, cure him entirely. The world would have been a better place if he had the lifespan of a normal man.

But there is no point thinking about this, time to go to bed now. As you try to go to sleep your body keeps doing the fake fall thing, annoying you to the core. And finally when your bodys heartbeat was steady and your breathing was quiet, your body did that fake fall thing again but this time it was actually a real fall.

Eyes widen as you try to grab onto the air to prevent your fall but of course, you fail. Adrenaline rushes through your veins for that split second before you finally make an impact on the cobblestone path?

Owch! That fall really hurt, especially at the back of your shoulders! You hope it’s not bruised there. But after that reality check, you look around only to find yourself in some village?

You can see a few small huts and buildings beyond the grassy field. Where are you? How are you here? Why are you here? Too confused and dazed from the fall, you try to look around for people for help. That is until a holographic screen with text pops up.

Congratulations Ms. Y/n. Your wish to cure King Baldwin has been approved by the ₦ł₥฿Ʉ₴฿₳Ʉ₦Ʉ₴. You are now at Jerusalem, Year: 1181.

“What?”

Yes it’s true Ms.Y/n, you really are in the 12th century.

Your blood is now boiling in anger. “Just because….Someone wishes pity over a dead king DOES NOT ACTUALLY MEAN THEY WANT TO CURE HIM!” You try to grab onto the screen to shake it vigorously but your hands go right thru.

Now now, let’s calm down and try to get over with this together I’m sure we’ll find a solution.

“Calm down…CALM DOWN?!?!?!? I’m in the middle of nowhere in Jerusalem during the 12th century and you want me to CALM DOWN???? I don’t even know French and not to mention I’M NOT CHRISTIAN!” You were screaming with your hand in the air. Pretty sure you woke someone up.

Y-Yes but that’s why I’m here. Don’t worry about communication, the language module for french had been uploaded into your brain while you fell here.

The screen flickers a little, maybe due to fear.

Uploaded knowledge? “But I’m a woman from the 21st century! I can’t live here! I’m wayy to accustomed to the privileges of my time!”

That’s one of my perks miss! By using currency of this time you may purchase products of your time thru me! The screen changes to an online store. For now you have access to basic necessities like food and clothes. As you complete missions you shall unlock other parts of the online market! The screens display brightness increases due to enthusiasm, convinced it has impressed you.

You however look at it in exasperated shock. “How is this even possible?” You say with dread in your voice. “Who sent me here?” You ask, no, demand.

Like I said You’ve been sent here by ₦ł₥฿Ʉ₴฿₳Ʉ₦Ʉ₴. I’m pretty sure you can’t read that since mortals don’t have the capacity to….

Mortals? Is this the play of some higher being? God even? Too many questions float through your head, making you visibly tired. You can feel the bottom of the skin beneath your eyes folding, an indicator you’re developing dark circles.

Ah. It looks like you’re tired. It’s night anyway. You should sleep.

“But where do I-”

“Excuse me madam.” You turn around to see a man standing behind you. “I’ve noticed you’ve been talking to yourself.”

So he can’t see the screen. From his ragged outfit he seems to be a commoner. He also genuinely seems worried so you guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask for help.

“Yes, sorry for that.” You say embarrassingly while you get up. “You see I’m from the family of wandering traders, here to sell spices from my land. I was talking to myself since I was quite irritated at how I didn’t have an inn for the night.” The explanation seems responsible enough I guess.

“But I don’t see any goods with you… And how did a young lady such as yourself travel alone? Where is your husband?”

Crap. He’s doubting you. You need to give him a reasonable explanation fast or he’ll call you a witch or something.

“Oh no sir you’re mistaken! My father is the one who has the spices, it’s his business after all. We had to split ways during travel due to inconveniences, I’m merely here to help him!” You put on your best smile to convince him.

“O-Oh I’m sorry madame! H-Here let me lead you, I know an Inn nearby.” Good. Looks like he believes you. But now it’s your turn.

“I’m sorry sir but how can I trust you?” You step back a little. “What if you take advantage of me? How shall I testify my innocence? The locals would definitely believe you over me.”

“No no please don’t! I’m a married man. My wife’s right there.” he points at the lady standing just outside the house, looking worried. You look at her and she nods her head in reassurance. “You seem like a noble from your land madame judging from your colorful dress, why don’t the both of us show you where the inn is?”

Hmm….Guess colorful clothing is rare here. And he really does seem like he wants to help.

“Very well then. Both of you show me they way.” The man eagerly tells his wife the incident and both of them show you around. The screen follows you, showing you a winking emoticon.

Congrats Ms. Y/n! You have officially begun your first mission!