#turns out i have a kidney stone

[whitherwanderer]

5 // barbarous

He’d never told her.

Never told her how the memory of hearing gunfire haunted him into his dreams and how her wild look as she fired round after round was seared into his thoughts. Even when he thought he’d forgotten it, grown out of it, grown up from it, grown tired of it, it was still there in the quiet. A memory peeking up from the floorboards once all the whimsy and noise had died down. Like spying a mouse in the cupboard and feeling oneself recoil, even though it’s harmless.

He never told her that was the first life he’d ever taken, and he wasn’t sure he ever intended to.

Most people on this side of the Three Great Continents seemed to think the xaela a warlike people. All fury and fire, sowing conflict for conflict’s sake and reaping a glorious bounty in blood. And certainly, some tribes were as bloodthirsty as the gossip he overheard during the nights he posted up beside Nono in his black and gold guard attire, enjoying the opportunity to don the doff the role of a hardened warrior with a temper as well-honed as the blade he wore—and heavens forbid the arrival of a day anyone ever expected him to use it.

But he was not a warrior, or even from a warlike tribe.

There were times he thought he could be one. Especially when tensions began to rise between the Confederate sailors and the Garleans that passed through their waters, tithes unpaid. Rumblings of discontent as the Hingan traders stopped crossing to the mainland and the coffers dried up, the larders emptied, and the fishing nets withered and broke, used long after they were due for replacement. He thought about the illness that had taken some of his unfortunate brothers and sisters, and the physicians that refused to hear his petition for aid. Too risky, they said. He’d thought about using his spear to convince them.

But he did not. He never even reached for it.

Then there was that man who had brought Nono into his study under the pretense of another job, another prize for her to fetch at world’s edge, when all he really wanted was a witness to some greater scheme. Nono knew something was off with the bloke—she had a better sense of these things by then—but Ardeth saw something dark when he first met the man’s eyes. Something unholy, something that was barely contained behind the perfect manners and lavish lifestyle.

They both wanted to believe it was simply the ruthless, competitive nature that lies beneath all merchant princes’ compliments and veiled threats, but if he had truly believed that was the extent of the danger, then he wouldn’t have tailed her to the meeting.

He understood, in the same instant that she’d fired, Nono could not be the one to end him or else her world would come apart. And he was always slipping the boundaries of his own anyway. What was another? He remembered the awful sound that the man made as the spear tip sunk easily into his flesh. It took less effort than Ardeth had ever thought it would, and that alone terrified him. He was thankful he’d never see that spear again.

[misplacedreporter]

.

[sagxshi]

guess who spent 5 hours in the emergency room last night

[reinemichele]

I had a really stressful and emotionally taxing dentist appointment yesterday

(I'll make a full summary post sometime later in the week but the very simplified version is I inherited my mom's side of the family's Bad Teeth, and I need all of mine extracted. I just turned 26 ✌🏻.)

I'm pretty sure I passed a kidney stone today, and tonight I need to fast for my blood to be drawn tomorrow morning.

And yet . my brain is still yelling at me for not doing anything productive or creative in the short amount of time I have left in the day.

So my point in posting this is to say, both to myself and anyone reading, please don't listen to the mean voice in your head telling you it's the end of the world if you don't push yourself past your limits. You're not committing an unforgivable sin by having a bad mental health day, a chronic illness flareup, needing rest, or otherwise just not feeling up to being a "productive member of society" or "contributing to fandom". It's okay to catch your breath and just exist.

[khaleesiofalicante]

"Alec," his mother squints at him on his laptop screen. "Is everything okay? You’re scaring us."

"It’s nothing to be scared of," Alec reassures her quickly.

"Are you sure, dude?" Jace frowns, adjusting his hair using his laptop camera. "Because the last time you called for a family meeting, it was when you had that kidney stone removed."

"Actually, I called that meeting," Izzy points out, not bothering to turn on her video, probably still in bed. "Alec didn’t even bother to tell us about being hospitalized."

"Oh, that’s right," Jace glares at Alec in disapproval, then his expression softens. "The last family meeting you called was when you came out."

Alec doesn’t know about other gay people, but coming out to your family on a Zoom call is the best way to do it. If it goes really well, then good. You have footage of a really sweet moment. You can even put it on YouTube like Aline did and get invited to the Ellen Show.

If it doesn’t go well...then you can just end the call right there - or tell your parents your account got hacked. It's not as if they're going to know the difference.

"Wait a minute," Dad frowns slowly. "Are you coming out again?"

"Why would he come out again, Robert? We know he's gay!" Mom rolls her eyes.

"Well, sexuality is a fluid thing," Dad huffs out, never missing an opportunity to show off whatever he learned from some queer TikTok influencer. Someone probably needs to do an intervention soon. "Maybe Alec is bi now. Or he is trans."

"If Alec is trans, we shouldn’t say 'he,' it should be 'she,'" Jace points out.

"Trans people don’t have to be male or female," Izzy rolls her eyes. "What if Alec is non-binary?"

"Non-binary," Dad nods sagely. "Also commonly known as NB."

"Well, whatever it is, we support Alec," Mom speaks for everyone.

"That’s great," Alec tells them. "Can Alec talk now?"

Only Fools Rush In: Thursdays are for Teasing

[hitomisuzuya]

🌸🌷

Request

IT'S ME OMG I'VE MISSED YOUU 😭😭😭

I've been really busy so I wasn't able to put requests

Also I'm so happy that you're all better now, I've never had kidney stones before but I'm so happy you were able to get it to pass ❤❤❤

Anyways as for my request

Im feeling like really soft cuddlefucking with kabukimono

Like really soft and really sweet and we take care if him and stuff omg

Anyways I'll see you next time, bye 😊

Kunikuzushi x fem! reader. Soft, sweet smut. Kabukimono is Kunikuzushi.

Hello dear ❤️ 🥺🥺 You are so sweet. I am feeling much better. This wasn't the first time my kidneys have taken out a hit on me and if won't be the last time😭 They are incredibly painful, separate circle of hell level pain.

Kunikuzushi's arms tightened around your waist, whining softly as he buried his face into your neck. He grinded his hardening cock against the back of your thighs. "I'm sorry," He mumbled, "I just really need you right now."

You laughed softly, putting a hand on his. You stroked his wrist reassuringly with your thumb. "You don't ever have to apologize, Kuni," You said, making him groan when you grinded back against him.

Kunikuzushi would've been happy if you had done only that, perfectly fine with cumming in his pants from you grinding back against his cock. It always sent him reeling whenever you always seemed to go the extra mile.

And all for him.

He asked for so little, and you always have him so much in return. And he loves you for that. With all his heart.

You turned around in his arms, resting your forehead against his. "I always want you," What you said made Kunikuzushi feel even dizzier in love with you.

You moved your head to capture his lips into a kiss. Your hands roaming over his body encouraged his to do the same, hastily tugging at your clothes with shaky hands. His lips never once left yours, kissing you back passionately.

His eyes rolled closed in bliss when you softly sucked on his tongue, curling the wet muscle around his, letting him what he fondly called 'the honors' of peeling your dampened panties down your legs.

You moved your hips, guiding his cock to rest between your folds. Kunikuzushi wasted no time in grinding against it, shuddering in pleasure as your slick generously coated his throbbing cock.

He happily swallowed every moan of pleasure you offered against his mouth, the head of his leaking cock rubbing against your throbbing clit.

"K-Kuni," You cried out, moaning softly into his mouth. Your arms tightened around him, tugging on his hair as you hooked one of your legs over his hip. You held him close, stroking on his cheek with your thumb while he pushed his cock inside of you.

Kunikuzushi whimpered and moaned unabashed into your mouth, only pulling away for a moments to get you breathe before his lips were back on yours again. His cock throbbed harder everytime the rocking of your hips helped nudge his cock against your sweet spot. He writhed in ecstasy as your walls clenched around his cock.

His whines turned high pitched. Knowing that this was his tell that he was about to cum, you licked at his mouth. "Cum with me, Kuni," You breathed, nuzzling your cheek against his.

Kunikuzushi's hips snapped into yours, his pace rougher for only a few moments as his cum ribboned inside of you. He clung to you, eager to feel your release flood onto his cock. His eyes lit up when he heard you cry out for him, shuddering in bliss from feeling you squirt on his cock.

He gently fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. His hips didn't slow to a stop until yours did. When you started to move so he could pull out of you, Kuni shook his head. His arms tightened around you. "No, please," He whispered, kissing your lips gently, "Let me stay inside of you a little while longer."

The feeling of being connected to you, feeling your heart beat thud against his chest. To him, there was no better feeling in the world.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS *  some of my favorite quotes from the show, adjust as necessary

his chops are too righteous!

it’s evil. it’s diabolical. it’s lemon scented!

lord knows i’ve tried.

two words. na. chos.

yeah, i get called that a lot.

it's just a cruel reminder that i'm single and likely to remain that way forever.

what doesn't kill you usually succeeds in the second attempt.

stupidity isn't a virus, but it sure is spreading like one.

goodbye everyone, i’ll remember you all in therapy.

don't you have to be stupid somewhere else?

i used to have a kidney stone. everything passes eventually.

you can't fool me. i listen to public radio!

stop it, [name], you're scaring him!

do instruments of torture count?

give to the children's fund? what have the children ever done for me?

this is not your average, everyday darkness. this is... advanced darkness.

what's better than serving up smiles?

i guess i'm not wearing any pants today.

did you smell it? that smell. a kind of smelly smell. the smelly smell that smells… smelly.

wake me up when i care.

look at all the hip, young people eating salads!

he was so ugly that everyone died.

the best time to wear a striped sweater is all the time!

well, the way i see it, there are three possibilites.

hibernation is the opposite of beauty sleep.

that’s it mister! you just lost your brain privileges!

good people don’t rip other people’s arms off.

well, we lost our car again.

pull your pants up. we’re going home.

you were right. fighting is for children.

i’m a good noodle!

remember, licking doorknobs is illegal on other planets.

your ceiling is talking to me!

we don’t need television.

the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.

i’ll have you know i stubbed my toe last week while watering my spice garden and i only cried for twenty minutes.

hey, if i close my eyes, it doesn’t seem so dark.

is mayonnaise an instrument?

those are some big words. i’ve never heard you use them before.

my vocabulary is infinitely expanding.

we destroyed your most prized possession.

we shall never deny a guest even the most ridiculous request.

let’s see, a five letter word for happiness. money.

can i have everybody’s attention?

i have to use the bathroom.

do you know what day today is?

could you not stand so close? you’re making me claustrophobic.

i used your clarinet to unclog my toilet.

are they laughing at us?

if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.

he needs us now more than ever.

what is today, but yesterday’s tomorrow?

ice is just a myth.

this working out thing isn’t working out.

i can’t see my forehead.

i have a good idea, and no one else thinks so.

look at you, so young and happy.

i prefer to be an idiot!

sounds like a pretty good deal to me, what do you say?

don’t be sad, buddy. turn that frown upside down!

i’m ugly and i’m proud!

good! say it louder!

i can’t do it! i can’t be away from my best friend!

i need you! i can’t handle this myself!

i’m just going on vacation for a few days.

i was kinda hoping that you come along with us…

enjoy the cake everybody!

now we never have to be apart, even when we’re not together.

this is great. see you forever!

i have to keep you safe while i get some work done!

maybe he doesn’t like us.

no, are you kidding?

i propose a toast to new friends!

i guess i’ll have to move in back with my mom and dad.

he’s a thief. look at the lust in his eye…

why can’t you just accept our friendship?

[zlebooks]

𓂃 alhaitham + pineapples on pizza .

alhaitham’s love language is giving you the pineapples on his pizza and him eating what’s leftover.

alhaitham doesn’t like pineapples on his pizza— you noticed.

whenever you call for a thirty minute break from the study group you invited him to (read: you and the scholar are the only members of the said “study group”), he’d always order a pizza.

he claims that it’s easy to eat, and it’s what doordash is for— plus as college students, it was sometimes the cheapest thing on the menu.

every time you’re seated on the ground, facing his coffee table, you never fail to notice how he picks at the pineapples on his pizza. this occurrence then leads to him eating a literal triangular bread with tomato sauce because all the toppings came off along with the pineapples. he eats it nonchalantly, not bothered by the pitiful state of his slice of pizza— if you can even call it that— as he highlights the text he’s reading.

“why do you keep ordering hawaiian for us when you don’t even like it?”

“because you prefer it.” the other responds in a straightforward manner, not even looking up from his textbook.

it’s during moments like this did you wish that alhaitham is aware of your trickery and why it’s only him that shows up during the study group sessions you arrange. you hope that the reason why he’s putting up with your obvious deceit is because he might be just as equally as interested as you.

“but what about what you like?” you ask once again, and this time, alhaitham finally takes a glance at you.

he focuses his gaze on the slice your holding, raising an eyebrow at it before looking back at you. “it’s not like you get to think about what i like when you’re obviously enjoying the abundance of toppings on yours.”

you feel heat creeping up your cheeks, ah right— whenever alhaitham takes off the toppings on his pizza, he directly puts them on yours. you don’t give it any meaning though! you were sure alhaitham is the type of guy that hates seeing food go to waste.

“i can eat other pizza flavors too you know…” grumbling, you turn the page of your book, “i can eat cheese or pepperoni.”

“you don’t like those flavors because you think they taste salty.”

your heart does a somersault— he remembers.

“of course i do. you turned it into your whole personality.” he grunts.

you’re positive that your temperature has gone over the roof and you look exactly like the tomato soup the pizzeria uses.

“h-hey! in my defense… they’re really salty to the point i’m going to get kidney stones just from eating them.” you manage to stammer out and your study buddy snorts at your exaggeration.

“well, it’s a good thing that i keep ordering hawaiian— need to keep the kidney healthy,” he pauses, putting his cheek on his palm as he smirks. “we have you to thank.”

“i can’t help but to notice… are you teasing me?”

the other can’t help but to chuckle directly in his fist, and if he managed to catch your frown, he failed to comment on it. shrugging, he replies, “am i now?” alhaitham buries his head into his book once again, “i can’t help but to notice that you aren’t doing any studying in our… study group.” heavy emphasis on the last words, your heart beats loudly against your chest as the thought of him knowing your shameful secret runs through your head.

the scholar notices this of course— nothing gets past from his watchful gaze. he wants to watch you further squirm in your current position, oh how cute were you to joke around with. it almost compensates for the moments he had to fill his stomach with nothing but topless pizzas.

“next time, maybe don’t bother inviting me to your study group. after all, you never ask anyone else but me.” alhaitham hums acting as if he were deep in his thoughts, “oh i know, ask me on a date instead.”

[v0idm4ster]

I'm very bored so imma list down some of the best things that I manifested! (This year)

Alright, so my biggest manifestation of this year will definitely be how I manifested my grandfather to be healthy again. By just affirming and some subs, so basically what happened was this feb, my grandfather fell sick and we took him to doctors turns out he had some kidney stones, and he had to get surgery for it, and NOT only that. The doctors literally said that he CAN have cancer 90%, and I didn't know this at the time since my father didn't want to worry anyone, the doctor literally fucking said that he only have 6 months left. And I heard it when my father was telling my mother and oh my god. I literally affirmed like crazyyyy all day all night that my grandfather is super healthy and well, and I also listened to a wish sub, and GUESS WHAT??????? The reports of cancer came back and he has NO CANCER. EVEN THE DOCTORS WERE SHOCKED BRUH. THEY SAID ITS A MIRACLE. OFCOURSE IT IS. I'm just so grateful, god always helps me. And now my grandfather is healthy again. I can't explain how much I love him.

Second Manifestation will be me passing my 12th grade with only 2 hours of studying 💀💀💀, I'm still shocked as how I got 70% even. That too with ONLY 2 hours of study one night before the exams. As the results day was coming close I was getting more and more scared I genuinely thought I was gonna fail. But then I started AFFIRMING that I'm so lucky and everything always works out in my favour and also listened to some luck subs, only for 3-4 days and when my results came out I was sooooo happy. And also, affirming for luck actually made me lucky in other aspects too, getting money randomly, I got my own phone the very day my results were out, also got a 15 day free subscription of my fav app 💀🙏 nahhh I'm still shocked. Lol.

In conclusion, affirming and persisting REALLY works. Also, WATCH SAMMY INGRAM Y'ALL. SHE'S THE BEST MANIFESTATION COACH. AND MY FAV YOUTUBER. PERIOD.

(dividers by @anitalenia 🩷)

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Get ready, there be some surprises in store for this one…

Word Count: 5,100

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut (m. receiving oral and implied smut), SB’s attempts at flirting lol.

Part 5: Morning, Night & Day

Now that you were allowed to roam the mansion freely, you were able to confirm that it was huge. And it was beautiful…if a bit dusty. 

The house boasted Spanish style arches and textured walls, cherry wood furniture and rod iron lamps and wall sconces, not to mention various art pieces on the walls that looked well-curated. No doubt Soldier Boy had hired an excellent interior designer.

You were more interested in the garden outside. It was tucked away behind the pool, in the shade of large palm fronds and bigger trees. Peeking through them was a lovely view of the mountains. 

Though it reminded you of the damn cliff where you fell, Soldier Boy saving you, and of course, being an arrogant asshole about it. 

Your lips pursed in annoyance. What a dick.

Expelling a heavy sigh, you shook the thought of him out of your head as best you could, and tilted your head up to the sunshine. You’d found a nice stone bench to just sit and be, and try not to think about why you were here.

“Lunch time,” Frank said, encroaching on your solitude. He wasn’t a chatty man, always one to hand off your meal and leave. Escort you back to your room and leave. 

You were bored enough (and perhaps lonely enough) to attempt a conversation.

“You seem to be the brains of the operation,” you remarked. “Yet he’s got you babysitting me. My condolences.”

Frank gave you a bland look. He wasn’t a hothead like Tony, but he was starting to look annoyed as he was still holding out the plate to you. It looked like a roast beef sandwich on rye with some mixed fruit on the side. At least they were trying to keep you healthy.

“I’m not a fan of rye bread,” you admitted. “Tastes like sour cardboard.” 

But you took the plate anyway. 

“Want to sit?” you offered a place next to you on the bench, before Frank could scurry off. “I doubt doing Soldier Boy’s bidding is more fun than ignoring me for a few minutes.”

You could tell he was about to leave anyway. So you tried one more thing.

“He’d probably want you to watch me,” you pointed out. “Make sure I don’t choke on a grape or something.”

Frank’s mouth twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. After a moment of indecision, he surprised you by sitting down with you. You’d been trying to get Frank to talk to you for days, but he was definitely the strong and silent type. The good soldier, following his orders. 

You were a curious person by nature, but more than that, you wanted to know what kind of men your captors were. You weren’t just learning Soldier Boy. You had to learn his team too.

So you offered Frank a grape. He met you with a raised brow, but he didn’t take it. You shrugged and popped it into your mouth.

“So,” you started, tucking into your sandwich next. “Ex-military, turned private sector?” 

Frank shot you another look. He was older than you, though not quite old enough to be your father. He could have been around M.M.’s age.

“You carry yourself like an military man. Marine maybe,” you guessed. 

Frank sighed and gave a short nod. “Good guess.”

“My father was a Marine,” you said. And that was the truth. Military men ran in your family—from your father to your grandfather, though you’d never met the latter. He’d died of liver and kidney failure, thanks to good old-fashioned alcoholism.

Frank snorted. “My condolences.” 

You eyed him with a small smile. “You got a family? Wife and kids?”

He hesitated, casting his gaze ahead. You sensed it was a question with a potentially loaded answer, so you let it be. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I know the feeling, being married to your job. Harder to quit than heroin.” 

When you offered him another grape, this time, he actually took one.  

Being able to tell between night and day somehow told your body that the night was no longer for sleeping. So your wandering continued that night. 

Moonlight poured through the tall windows outlooking the garden, but most of the mansion was dark and eerie and all but silent, except for some quiet rain pattering outside. 

It’s like an episode of Scooby Doo in here, you thought with a shiver. The long halls were empty and mostly dark, with just a few dim wall lights along the way. Still, you’d rather be alone than run into one of Soldier Boy’s goons, or even the man himself. 

But you wanted to rejoice when you found the kitchen. Finally, you could put together a meal for yourself that wasn’t a damn sandwich. 

Both the pantry and fridge were fully stocked with expensive-looking ingredients. At the moment though, you weren’t so hungry for a heavy meal as you were for a snack. Maybe something for your incurable sweet tooth. 

You rifled through and found something you recognized: a family-sized tray of Chips Ahoy. 

Ooh, success! With a grin, you ripped open the top and rifled through the cupboards for a glass.

“The hell’re you doing?”

You jumped with a yelp at the voice that startled you. You looked over your shoulder and frowned in annoyance when you noted Soldier Boy in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. A snappish retort was on your tongue, but at the last moment, you held onto the threads of your temper.  

Don’t be difficult, you reminded yourself, however much the thought grated.

“Midnight snack,” you replied, nodding to the open parcel of cookies. “Want some?”

You took out two glasses without looking at him, but you could hear him approach. When you went to the fridge to look for some milk, you noticed him take a seat at the kitchen island in front of you, where there were three stools. 

“What’re you, a fucking eight-year-old?” he remarked. You raised a brow at him and took no less than five cookies from the tray. 

“You’re never too old for milk and cookies,” you said sagely. You were a proud dunker, and you did so until your cookie was half-soggy with milk. You shoved an entire one into your mouth and looked him in the eyes when you did it. 

His lips tugged upwards, dryly amused, while his gaze not-so-subtly raked over your form. You almost rolled your eyes, but you resisted. He could take in your oversized shirt and sweats all he wanted.

“‘S that a man’s shirt?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Not a lot to pick from here at the Holiday Inn,” you quipped. You were running out of clean items that would actually fit you, and you weren’t about to run around here in some of the slutty shit you’d found.

“Can’t sleep?” You distracted him with the question, then slid a glass of milk in front of him. Regardless of what he said, he’d glanced at those cookies twice. 

This was an opportunity, you thought. A chance to get into his head, see what the fuck made him tick.   

Soldier Boy eyed the milk, then you. After a moment, he grabbed a cookie and took a bite. He didn’t answer your question, and instead asked one of his own.

“How’d you get caught up with Butcher?” he asked. 

You smiled behind your glass. It seemed he was curious about you too. 

“I work at Supe Affairs.” That was easy enough for you to admit. And if he was smart, he would’ve had Frank run a background check on you. 

Soldier Boy snorted. “Yeah, I figured that fucking much. Doesn’t answer my fucking question.”

So damn rude. You wanted to sigh. 

“I help run surveillance,” you said. But before he could ask his next predictable question, you continued, “Grace Mallory recruited me because I was a private investigator…and like you, I worked at Vought for a while.”

His attention piqued at that. 

“Though your tenure was a bit before my time,” you couldn’t help a light jab. 

His lips curved again. “Why’d you take a job you couldn’t hope to win? You got some vendetta against me, like Butcher?”

You arched a brow, watching him shove another cookie into his mouth. If anyone had a vendetta against him it was M.M., but trust Soldier Boy to conveniently forget murdering the man’s grandfather.

“You’re asking if I’m obsessed with you? I think not,” you said with a genuine chuckle, then sipped at your milk with some decency. Unlike your companion, who already had a pile of soggy crumbs on the counter beneath him.

Soldier Boy shot you a frown, and his eyes said he didn’t believe you. He sat back in his chair, his jean-clad legs falling open casually. His gaze on you, however, was anything but. You wouldn’t admit it, but it made heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Really?” he said. “‘Cause I gotta tell ya, sweetheart. During your slutty little seduction act, you were pretty fucking responsive.”

He rubbed his palms slow down his thighs, like he could still feel yours wrapped around his hips and grinding your hot core against his slacks. 

You stared back at him as your lips pressed together. 

Soldier Boy tilted his head at you, his smile turning smug. “The filthy sounds I was getting outta you…”

You set down your glass on the counter. Reaching for another cookie, you rested your elbows on the counter and leveled him with a teasing smile of your own. 

“Unlike you, Ben, I’m a good actor,” you replied. 

His brow twitched at that, however subtle. You couldn’t tell if using his real name annoyed him, or if it just added to the game you two were playing. But it felt right, stripping him of at least that façade. 

He wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t even a superhero, really. He was just a man. 

Albeit, a super fucking strong one with an ego the size of Empire State. But a man. The same kind you’d dealt with all your life. 

And he crossed his arms, like he was starting to lose his patience with you. 

“Then why’d you come out here?” 

Munching on a dry chocolate chip, you answered, “To get paid. Why else?” 

Again, it didn’t look like he believed you. 

“You don’t look the type,” he said.

“Don’t I?” you said. He seemed to know you were holding something back, but not willing to admit he wanted to know it. 

And you weren’t willing to give it to him. He didn’t need to know that you’d taken this job to support your family. Because what the hell would he know about family? 

…But at the same time, his curiosity just made it all the clearer: in whatever small way, you’d piqued his interest. He wanted to figure you out. 

And maybe that was the real reason you were still alive. 

It started to happen like that more often.

Midnight snacks, as you’d continued to call it in your head. When you couldn’t take being alone with your thoughts (or being alone at all), if you made your way to the kitchen you often found Ben.

Whatever was keeping him awake, he seemed to crave the company as you rifled through the pantry. From alfajores, macarons, and chips, to the entire leftover ham from dinner, he often smoked a large blunt and ate whatever you found. 

You’d taken a hit once when he offered, but the shit was so strong than you abstained afterwards. You wanted to be in your fully right mind around him.

And you talked—about the old-ass TV shows he never got to see the end of, and the new music he hated. You’d enjoyed (gently) teasing him about being an old man who didn’t understand Cardi B when you played it on his phone. You suspected he didn’t quite understand how all the bells and whistles worked on an iPhone yet. (But he’d taken it back from you before you could text anyone.)

“In my day, there was a little more fucking class,” he’d said. “Sinatra. Nat King Cole. Christ, the fucking Beatles.” 

You’d rolled your eyes at that. You liked all those guys too, actually. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t bang out all the words to “Bodak Yellow” and “Please Me.” 

You also talked about the movies he missed out on. The ones you thought he’d probably enjoy, like the Terminator sequels and Liam Neeson’s Taken (if only for the sheer irony). And all the while, he asked you probing questions he likely thought were subtle. 

“What did you do at Vought?” he asked over chips and salsa. 

You thought the salsa was a bit too spicy, but he was lapping it up. It both amused and disgusted you. 

Until he licked some of it off his fingers. Catching your gaze, his became mischievous. He slid his fingers out of his mouth with an obscene noise. All the while, his deep green eyes held yours. 

You would never admit to being turned on, but you felt your cheeks warming up as you fought not to react, watching the juices drip down his fingers.

“I ran down criminals for the supes to ‘catch’ them,” you managed to reply. “They just got to do the sweeping in part.”

“Lazy shits,” he remarked, licking off the remaining salsa from his hand. You tried not to focus on the sight of his tongue. Afterwards, he gave you reprieve by wiping his hands on a paper towel.

What the fuck is wrong with me? You inwardly shook your head at yourself. 

“Back in my day, we actually ran down our own leads,” he said. “Sure, we got tips every now and then, but we did our own busts.”

You didn’t know how much of that you could believe, considering he’d never even fought in World War II, despite his numerous claims of pounding Nazis up the ass.  

“How’d you end up there, anyway?” he asked. 

“Vought paid more than private practice,” you wryly replied. 

He eyed you then. “And before?”

Before? Was he just bored, or did he genuinely want to know about your life? 

Still, this was starting to veer into things you’d rather not talk about.  

“Worked for my dad’s P.I. firm,” you said, making an effort to untighten your spine. “I learned what I know from him.”

That much was the truth, though you hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. 

Ben chortled, making you frown. “‘A’ for fucking effort there, sweetheart.”

You huffed. Yes, you did realize the irony of being kidnapped by the man you’d hunted down (sort of). Didn’t mean he had to be such an asshole about it.

“He must be fucking proud,” he added. Your gaze sharpened with irritation. 

“Like your dad was proud of you?” out came your pointed reply, before you could stop yourself.  

His amusement faded, likely as he stared back at you and saw that you knew for a fact what he’d told Butcher.

A fucking disappointment.

He didn’t bother lying, but his lip curled into a sneer. 

“Be careful, sweetheart,” he warned. You heard the underlying threat in his voice. You forced yourself to keep your mouth shut, lowering your eyes. The act was grating on you, boiling your blood.

But it seemed to mollify him enough. He let out a low chuckle. 

“I’ll let that one go,” he said. “Next time, I might not be so fucking nice.”

You believed him. 

It was a week of this, before you finally found out the hard way where Ben’s room was. 

You were wandering down a long hallway on the second floor, over in the west wing of the house. Your room was in the east, so you really hadn’t seen this side of the mansion before. The problem was, all these halls were looking the same to you. 

And now you had no idea how to get back to the main hall, where by now you could navigate downstairs to the kitchen, the back garden, the pool hall, a study room (with several shelves of books), a gym, and even an indoor movie theater. 

Suddenly, you thought you heard a woman’s voice, high and giggly. What the hell?

Your natural curiosity led you farther down the hall, where you could see light and movement beneath the closed door. Whatever (and whoever) was in there, you really should just let it be. 

You’d been able to successfully avoid Ben for the past few days, and you didn’t feel like dealing with the headache of another encounter with him—for as long as you could manage it.

So you were just about to turn back and keep on your merry way.  

But when you heard a slap, followed by a feminine cry of pain, you halted in your step. With your brows crunching in concern, you couldn’t help but approach the door again. You leaned in to listen.

Another slap, another pained mewling from the girl. Your mouth turned down in an angry frown of alarm. 

What the fuck is going on? You didn’t know what kind of sick shit he was into, but if he was hurting some poor girl for his own entertainment, you knew you couldn’t just walk away. 

After one more second of hesitation, you gripped the door handle and shoved it open. 

What you found seared your eyes. 

In unblinking shock, you took in the shambled state of Ben’s room. Clothes strewn haphazardly about, remnants of lines of coke on the coffee table, plates of half-eaten delicacies left on a wheeled in buffet, bottles of liquor, half-empty glasses and shots rolling around. 

And a California king bed occupied the center, where the sheets and pillows had fallen off while Soldier Boy fucked no less than five prostitutes. All looked to be of various ethnicities and a wide age range. The oldest of them looked saggy enough to be in her seventies, but she was working as hard and skillfully as the rest of them.  

One of the younger ones, maybe around your age, was getting spanked by one of his large hands while another girl’s head bobbed over his lap with gusto. The other three were finding things to do, whether on the man himself, or to each other in front of him on the bed. 

In reality, you probably took all this in for just a few seconds. 

But a gasp fell unbidden from your lips, along with a “Jesus fucking Christ!”

Ben looked like he had been working up a mild sweat. Broken from his concentration though, he glanced up at you. And then the broadest, Cheshire cat fucking grin spread across his face. 

“Hey, baby doll,” he greeted mischievously. “You here to join in? Here, tag in for, uh…what’s your name again, sweetheart?”

He looked down and grabbed the shoulder of the girl in his lap. She released his cock out of her mouth for a second to answer, “Jasmine.”

“Sure,” he said with a nod. Then he frowned and gestured to his still rock-hard dick. Your eyes widened in shock—both at the audacity, and at the size of it. You blushed hotly.

“But don’t fucking stop now, Jesus,” he said to the girl. And he looked over at you with a raised brow. “Unless you wanna jump in…but seriously, don’t make me wait all fuckin’ day here.”

Your face contorted in disgust. 

“There’s not enough fucking therapy for this,” you muttered. 

Then you fled the room, slamming the door behind you so hard that it rattled. It still didn’t muffle his laughter behind the door. 

Your face, neck, and the tips of your ears were on fire as you hastened down the hall. 

By the time you got to the kitchen, you could even hear your rapid heartbeat in your ears. You set a hand over your chest and felt the thump, thump, thumping under your palm. 

Images continued to flash through your mind—naked flesh, bouncing tits, shockingly adept wrinkled hands. And then the man’s chiseled bare form, planes of tanned skin over muscle, and strong-looking hands.  

Fucking hell. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of your brain’s ongoing loop, but it was a losing battle. With a long and frustrated sigh, you reached into the fridge and grabbed all the ingredients you needed to make a damn sandwich. 

You knew Ben had hired a personal chef (Simone, you thought her name was), but you were pretty sure she was currently part of the service the supe entourage today. 

You slapped together a turkey and provolone sandwich with some lettuce, mayo, and a pickle for added “razzle dazzle.” 

Though on second thought, you put the pickle back. 

With an aggravated huff, you stood at the counter and tore into your dinner (you were too angry to sit at this point). You devoured half of it and nearly a whole bag of Doritos by the time that cocky bastard strolled in like the cat that got the cream, and clearly, more than once.

He looked freshly showered, and finally clothed in casual pants and a buttoned down shirt, rolled up on the sleeves.

Ben eyed you with a smirk. You raised a brow at him. 

“That was fast,” you remarked. “I expected you to be in that fuck dungeon all night.” 

“I wouldn’t call it a dungeon,” he said, leaning on the other side of the counter opposite you. “More like a cellar of fine delectables.”

You snorted. “All right, Hugh Hefner. I want to scrub my eyes with bleach.”

“Didn’t look that way from where I was sitting, doll face,” he quipped. His brow rose at you with a salacious, curling smile. You leveled him with a look. 

“At the very least, you would’ve ended that little dry spell of yours,” he added playfully. 

Your gaze sharpened at that. You dropped your sandwich on the plate to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“What’s it been?” he asked, leaning closer into your personal space with a more knowing grin. “Don’t really fucking tell me it’s been three years since somebody’s laid you out right.”

Despite your outrage at his audacity, your mouth fell open the slightest bit. 

“What…”

Again, he eyed your form, and not subtly at that. Today you’d found a pair of jeans that you’d managed to squeeze into. The polo shirt clinging to your waist and ribs and tight across your breasts wasn’t helping you either.

But you were honestly surprised he could still be looking at you like that when he’d just been doing some Olympic-level fucking. 

Your spine tightened nervously when he straightened to his full height, walking around the kitchen counter towards you. His hand slid across the surface, his head tilting at you in amusement. 

“It’s amazing what you can hear on shitty hotel roofs,” he said. 

Your eyes widened when you understood what he was getting at. When you were on the phone with your sister… 

“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa had said. “And finally put an end to that three-year goddamn dry spell.”

And that prickly feeling you’d felt then, licking up your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck…

“You were watching me,” you realized.  

Ben just looked down on you with a deepening smirk. His green eyes were alight with mischief, and yeah, probably lust too.   

“You fucking creep,” you said, with both a sigh and a roll of your eyes (despite your growing blush). 

He chuckled and raised a hand to lightly grip your chin. “That’s not very nice.”

You glared up at him, too angry and stubborn to remember to mind your temper. He seemed to like it though, working you up. He teased and prodded you enough, almost like a little boy trying to get a girl’s attention. Except this one was the most powerful supe alive.

So why does he like it so much, this stupid cat and mouse thing?

Not for the first time, you wondered why he decided to keep you around. And you had a feeling it wasn’t just to bait your friends. Maybe he just liked toying with you, seeing how far he could push until you snapped.

And then what? you wondered. 

Though if you were honest with yourself…you were just as into this little game as he was, albeit for different reasons. You wanted to understand him. 

At first, it was the job. Know the man you’re after.

But now, it was more. Knowing Soldier Boy, getting to know Ben would be the key to making it out of this situation alive. You just knew it…if only he didn’t make it so damn frustrating. 

“Seriously, tell me,” he said, still with a deceptively light grip on your chin. The pad of his thumb brushed your full lower lip, making your breath hitch. He glanced down at your mouth, then back into your eyes. 

“How fucking long’s it been since that pretty pussy’s been touched?” he asked. “‘Cause in my opinion, that’s a crying shame.”

For a moment, your breath got stuck in your throat. You felt a hot blush rising in your cheeks, down your neck…and maybe warmth between your legs at the mere suggestion.

You inwardly steeled yourself, clamping down on your anger and your embarrassment. Instead, you leveled him with a cool smile. 

“Not forty years, I’ll tell you that,” you said. 

While he raised a brow, he let you slowly push his hand away. You left him in the kitchen soon after, but he watched you go. Whether you meant to or not, the sway in your hips and your delectable ass in those tight fucking jeans made his dick twitch. 

Figures, he thought, that you’d get all fucking huffy. He shrugged and picked up half the sandwich you left behind. 

You found nothing else for your frustration but to head outside.

With a sigh, you sat down at the edge of the massive pool and just dipped your legs in. You didn’t have a swimsuit, and you didn’t want to take any chances by getting your clothes wet around here. Or even worse, stripping down to your bra and underwear. 

You blushed at the memory of Ben’s proximity, his touch, his rich, teasing voice that dripped with lustful promise. And that just reminded you of the scenes from his room, which flashed in your mind every so often like a bad porno. 

Shit. You absently bit at one of your nails. Ben had also heard that entire conversation with your sister. That meant he knew about her, and that gave you no small amount of anxiety. 

But he already had you. He hadn’t tried to extort you for anything (yet). You knew though, that if he threatened Luisa, or tried to use her to manipulate you in any way, there wasn’t much you could do but play along, like everything else. 

Right now, anyway… 

You noticed a dark shape out of the corner of your eye, and for a moment you were annoyed, ready to tell Ben to give you a moment’s peace. 

But it wasn’t him. It was Tony standing near the end of the pool. He must’ve been freed from desk duty, or whatever Ben had him doing while he presumably recovered from his injuries.

“What up, Tony?” you greeted, unable to resist a teasing smile when you noticed the large boot for his broken foot. Now plus a few extra bruises from your last tussle. They were dark, but yellowing around the edges. 

His lips twitched at a cold smile. “They’re letting the little mouse out of her room now?”

You shrugged, smirking.

“You look good,” you replied. “How’re the balls though? Still broken?”

Tony expression tightened into a glare. “You better watch it, bitch.”

“Or what?” you challenged.  

There was enough distance between you and him across the pool for you to feel comfortable, but really, you weren’t too afraid of Tony.

Yeah, he was a dick. But you’d taken him down before. You could literally break his balls again if he needed more encouragement to fuck off. 

Tony just smirked back at you, deciding to leave you alone for now. You watched him head back into the house with sharp eyes. He wouldn’t take you by surprise again.

Frank was waiting for you when you got back to your room. You were more relieved to see him than you’d like to admit, and you greeted him with a genuine smile, before you noticed the shopping bags in his hands. 

“What’s this?” you asked. Frank dutifully handed you the bags, and inside you found new clothes. They actually seemed to be your size. 

You looked up at Frank, both shocked and grateful. “You got me clothes?”

“Boss’s orders,” he revealed. Your brows rose high at that. 

“He told you to do this?”

Frank expelled a breath through his nose, hesitating, like he was debating how to frame his reply.

“He provided them,” he said. It felt like a confession, one that made your eyes widen at the implication.

Soldier Boy bought you new clothes? 

You didn’t know how to compute on this one, honestly. But you still answered with a tentative, “Oh. Well…thanks.”

He nodded, and soon left you with your thoughts and your spoils. You went into your room and dumped the bags onto the bed so you could examine their contents. 

There were casual shirts and yoga pants, a couple pairs of jeans, some sneakers, thank God. All the bras and panties, however, were lacey and expensive.

You shook your head with a smile, eyeing the labels. This man really went to Victoria’s Secret to buy you new underwear. 

It was both kind and somewhat sleazy, knowing he was going to be imagining you in the sexy, but admittedly tasteful lingerie. 

The “kind” part took you by surprise though. The clothes overall weren’t revealing or obnoxious. Even the underwear and bras were in styles you’d probably wear, under normal circumstances. 

So you put together an outfit out of one of the shirts and a pair of jeans, breathing a sigh of relief when you could peel the old ones off. 

This was a far cry from bullying and annoying you, and generally being an arrogant son of a bitch. 

The truth was, Ben was confusing you.

Perhaps now more than ever. 

AN: 🤭 Well, one would argue that she saw more sides of Ben than she thought she would (or wanted to). 😜

Let me know what you thought of this chapter! Things are definitely going to ramp up in the next one...

Keep Reading: PART 6

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[artofchira]

As someone else who's in the process of burning out just surviving, and has lost sight of why I enjoyed art in the first place, would you be willing to share some of the things you've tried to get back on your feet? Super glad that you're doing so much better, btw.

First: It's actually become a job for me to help artists reconnect to their art through my mentorship workshop with everything I have learned, and I consider myself very good at it. I've been doing it for about 4 years now. If you or any other artist would like direct help with recovering from burn out please check out the service page of my website and testimonials from previous clients.

To answer your question:

A lot of my own personal stabilization just came as a result of wanting the experience of making art to be comfortable. It wasn't a choice anymore. After my father passed I relaxed for about 3 months -- longest I went without drawing in my life since I started freelancing -- and when I sat back at my desk I just couldn't make myself work under the same pressure. I'd try to force myself to draw and it made me want to cry instead. I quickly learned I could only create if I felt comfortable and drawing felt gentle, so I had to accept moving forward if I wanted to continue being as productive as before I needed to find a way of working that eliminated stress or using will power, which means working in a way that was renovated from the ground up. I couldn't go back. How I was making art was over. I needed it to be repaired. I had no idea what that looked like, so it was truly trial and error.

A fact about me is I have a very high sensory/pain threshold naturally (I also recently learned I was autistic over the pandemic, imagine that has something to do with it) so I've always been historically bad at ignoring my physical limitations because I rarely felt them unless my body broke down on me, and when it did I treated myself with annoyance and forced myself to work through it. I'm talking like no sleeping for 3-4 days straight, or coming home after a kidney stone to finish a comic page still shaky on pain and morphine and then feeling bad at myself for being lazy. To say my old work habits were highly self abusive is an understatement. So when I started addressing everything that was an inconvenience and uncomfortable, it ended up correcting everything I was ignoring or failed to consider a problem until it was past due.

To cut a long story short, a list of material changes to my life that improved my health:

I got medicated, finally. I'm extremely bipolar. Always have been. Drawing between periods of oscillating between feeling divinely invincible vs ideating suicide every waking moment vastly became easier to manage.

I got glasses. I'm farsighted, but it was never a problem for me since I could see fine -- ooor so I thought. Turns out when you're farsighted you're focusing constantly without even realizing it. Turns out getting glasses gave me 80% of my mental space back so I suddenly had more energy, generally more awake, and more focused. No one talks about farsightedness so I had absolutely no idea I was burning myself out physically just being able to see. Worth mentioning!

Started seeing a massage therapist and a chiropractor regularly. I always thought of those things as luxuries, not necessities. Which was extremely stupid. Maintaining my physical body through directly working out kinks in it became something like brushing my teeth or showering -- it's just something you do to make sure health and hygiene isn't making you dysfunctional and rotting you. My body no longer breaks down.

For the same reasons as above, maintained seeing my therapist regularly even if I felt fine or had no issues to work out. I realized I was always quick to end support as soon as I felt I didn't need it anymore (again treating it as a luxury) so making the space in my life for mental/emotional check ins kept my head organized. My therapist is bewildered by me and has no idea what to do with me because she feels she's not doing anything. I just tell her by me making the space for me to explain myself at all, even if all I was doing was describing how I was fine, was the help. She's great.

Got a cappuccino machine. May seem stupid but being able to make gourmet coffees from my kitchen every morning really genuinely improved my life and mind more than getting medicated.

Got a dog. He's amazing. I love him. Very warm and loving companion, and such a gentle soul. He keeps me out of my head and gets me prioritizing walks every day, so my vitamin D intake increased massively. I don't have the luxury of staying in bed for 3 days straight in my depressive episodes anymore. I have to make the effort to leave it at least twice a day to walk and feed him and play with him. Like most people, I'm terrible at prioritizing for myself but will move worlds for those I love no matter where I'm at.

For personal habits I just reflected a lot on why I felt I had to will myself to draw when drawing is something I love doing most. It made no sense to resent doing what you devote yourself to doing. I changed -- and still changing -- my mental framing in how I think of working on art for it to be something I'm eager to do, not obligated to.

Hope this was educational.

[laura1633]

if you still doing drabble .. what about Charles found out that max is pregnant..🧡🧡

Hi anon

Thank you so much for the drabble idea, I am still writing a few and I might write a few at random points over the next week (so I will try and get around to the ones in my inbox). Below is a short piece about Max being pregnant. It's Mpreg though rather than omegaverse <3

“I’m pregnant,” Max punches the words out there, so much so that it is close to being aggressive in tone. 

Charles looks completely dumbstruck. The Monegasque is still clutching the takeout food he’s collected on his way home. His eyes flick down towards Max’s stomach before he dismissively shakes his head and laughs raucously as he heads through to the kitchen. 

“Charles, forget the food!” Max snaps, “I’m telling you I’m pregnant. It is of course yours.”

Charles giggles again as he goes to get two plates out of the cupboard, “So I suppose next you are going to tell me you are eating for two and need more of the food?”

“Charles will you just -“ Max stops and calms himself. He can’t really blame Charles’ dismissiveness. He had also laughed and told the doctor to fuck off when he had been told. The hospital had had to bring in three separate specialists and show him a whole host of scans before he believed them.

“Max, is there something wrong?” Charles eventually sets the food aside and closes the gap to his boyfriend before soothing his hands up the Dutchman's arms and placing a kiss against his lips, “You’re kind of freaking me out, there’s a vein in your neck that looks like its about to pop.”

“Charles,” Max tries again, “I am pregnant. And before you laugh again, this is not a joke. I have the scans!” the Dutchman reaches into his back pocket and shows Charles the ultrasound scan he had been given earlier today. The ultrasound scan that he was expecting to pick up kidney stones or something equally annoying and painful. He was not expecting to be told he is carrying a baby around inside him.

 “But you can’t get pregnant,” Charles has turned pale, in fact he’s currently so white that even the sunburn that lingers across his skin from the holidays seems to have faded, “You would know if you could? You would have had tests, I don’t -  ”

“The doctor said perhaps the gene was dormant,” Max bites roughly at his lip. It’s incredibly rare for those born as biological male to get pregnant. Less than a quarter of a percent. Max had always been told that when it came to driving skills he was one in a million. As it turns out his genetic make up is even rarer, “Charles, I am not fucking with you. I am pregnant.”

Charles is still staring. Max sees the Monegasque’s pupils widen as he tries to formulate a response. The wait is making Max feel queasy, or at least he assumes it’s the stoney silence that is making him what to retch, it could also be the seafood platter that Charles insisted on ordering from a local restaurant despite Max's protests. It's half open on the side and the smell is permeating the air.

“We are having a baby,” Charles breathes out, “You are pregnant. We are having a baby. Oh my god we are - , what -, oh my god Max!!” 

Max jumps as Charles squeals in delight and tries to lift him in the air. The movement is a little clumsy but Max’s feet do leave the ground as Charles spins them around. 

“You are not mad?” Max thinks its probably a redundant question because he’s never seen Charles this happy, not even when the Monegasque won his first home race. Charles is positively beaming and pressing kisses all over Max’s face like a crazy person.

“Why would I be -, Wait- “ Charles pauses, “You do want the baby right? You are happy?” 

“I’m happy,” Max manages to mumble as he sniffs back tears. It’s the first time he’s even let himself consider that he can actually have this. That he can keep the baby and keep Charles. He blocked out the thought in the hospital and on the way home. He thought about the upcoming race weekend and the content he has to go film in Milton Keynes. He thought about anything else to distract himself from getting carried away with the possibility that Charles would want this too.

“This is so perfect,” Charles’ hands come to rest against Max’s cheeks as he pulls him into a kiss. The Monegasque is shaking, although Max isn’t doing much better, his body feels like it’s vibrating from adrenaline. 

“Can you still race?” 

Max chuckles, that was also one of the first questions he had asked once he had recovered from the shock, “For now, they think until the end of the season, they’ll need to keep an eye on me though, make sure I am not exerting myself too much.”

“Okay, okay, makes sense,” Charles is nodding. He is also plotting, Max can tell from the way the Monegasque’s forehead creases up, “Well I can help. I can look after you, make sure you don’t have to do anything but keep him or her safe,” Charles presses a delicate hand against Max’s stomach, the tenderness of it makes the Dutchman’s heart skip and he instinctively reaches out and places his hand over Charles’.

“You just rest and I will look after you,” Charles smiles, “anything you need, just ask. Anything from now on. Anything.”

“Anything?” 

“Anything,” Charles says gleefully. 

“Charles, I love you so much, “ Max smiles as he takes Charles' hand in his own and squeezes it gently, “But can you please get that seafood out of this flat right now before I throw up everywhere!”  

[seikkoi]

𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗙 | tony stark x f!reader​

18+ minors dni

warnings: rough intercourse, shower s*x, explicit s*xual content

genre: theres no plot here just debauchery

word count: 1,329

a/n: i am bad at requests omg, sparsely proofread

Tony needs some stress relief- and he's far beyond waiting for you to finish your shower.

Tony reached a new limit for bullshit today. Actually, he was pushed much, much further.

The day had been jammed packed full of meetings, zoom calls, and annoying people. By five o’clock, he was one more redundant question away from breaking something. 

The tiring hours passed like kidney stones, but they passed regardless. Tony’s mind was set on relieving the headaches of the day before it was even over. The only thing that pulled him through was knowing that his favorite person was mere twenty minutes away- blissfully unaware of his plans.

To his credit, he does try to at least call you when he leaves the office to avoid showing up unannounced. You’re two miles in on the treadmill, music and footsteps drowning out the incessant vibrating. When Tony pulls into the driveway, you’re heading for the shower, still singing along. 

He’s only slightly worried something might be wrong when he calls out for you to not respond. Despite his eagerness and overwhelming need to put something else on his mind besides work, Tony tries to call you once more. Your phone buzzes absently on your bed as you rake shampoo through your hair. 

It’s nothing short of startling when you see a figure appear in your bathroom mirror. Your eyes focus, letting out a breath when you realize it’s just Tony. You realize how loud your music must be as you couldn’t hear him coming upstairs. The shower didn’t help either, water flowing loudly in the tiled chamber. 

Tony’s quicker than you, turning down the speaker with a light grin. 

“What’s with all the stealth?”, you ask playfully, pouring more soap onto your hands. You weren’t too put off by Tony’s sudden presence. He was normally home around this time, but then again, you normally answered when he called to tell you he was on the way. 

“Easy to sneak up on you when you’re having a private concert.”, he retorts, stepping into the bathroom. You notice his eyes in the reflection only stay on you for a moment, before slipping down to admire your figure in the foggy glass. 

Tony wants to thank any god watching for the sight in front of him. He figures someone must be looking out for him since he has you. Everything he needed from life, right there. Not to mention how damn good you looked. 

“You’re just jealous of my performance abilities.”, you chuckle, turning a bit to face him. Tony can’t help staring through the wet glass at the soap cascading down your body.

“Rough day?”, you ask, thinking he zoned out. Tony’s hands move to unbutton his wrinkled shirt, kicking off his shoes. He really wanted to be patient and wait, but you made it more than impossible. 

“Something like that.” Tony mutters, pants falling to his ankles. It’s then that you notice the swell growing in his boxers as his watch clatters on the counter. 

“Most people would just wait their turn.”, you tease, keeping your body facing him. It never took much to get Tony worked up, and you should have known his motives for watching you shower in the first place. 

“You are the one thing I’ve needed all day”, he answers, removing the last of his clothing and pulling the shower door open. The glass quietly closes behind him, giving you only a second before his arms wrap around your waist, capturing your lips in a slow, desperate kiss. 

Your fingers thread their way into dark, dampening curls, Tony’s member twitching against your thigh. He groans at the taste of your lips, feeling like he’s spent the last eight hours in a desert. His tongue swirls at the soft flesh before enveloping your mouth completely. 

Tony caresses every bit of skin he can get his hands on, running along your wet, silky skin. Just as the sight of you can easily turn him into a desperate, impatient mess- the same is true for his touch. You gasp as his fingertips tease your hardened nipples, arousal building between your legs. 

The kiss becomes hungrier, teeth scraping swollen lips. Tony’s hand abandons your chest to grip your thighs and pull you up. You don’t dare release his mouth from yours as you wrap your legs around your waist. Tony holds you with ease, taking a few steps to pin you at the shower wall. You’re right below the shower head, water raining down between your bodies. 

“Missed me that much, huh?” you say panting, pulling away when you feel Tony lining his hard member up to your slick entrance. 

Tony moans overtake the sound of the shower as the tip of his cock pushes into you. “You have no idea how badly I needed this.” 

“Fuck,’ he hisses in a drawn-out swear. Tony sank into the soft, wet heat of your cunt. With each moan that fell from your lips, the annoyance of the day got further behind him. 

You can barely care about the sting of pain from the warm tile digging into your back, tightening your lips around Tony’s waist. He keeps an iron grip on your legs, fingertips surely leaving bruises. Around you, the heat and steam billow above your head. 

Your back arches into his deep, steady thrusts as Tony’s head rests against your shoulder. You know you’re not going to last long like this, the angle letting Tony graze the perfect spot that makes your hips shudder. His neediness only makes it worse, hearing the desperation in his groans. Still, you can tell that he’s holding back. 

“Not made of glass,” you manage between gasping moans, humidity and steam dripping along your face. “Take what you need.”

It’s more than Tony needed to hear, pressing your body flush to the wall and thrusting into you hard. 

Despite your words a moment ago, his cock rams against your walls with enough force to make your hips sting as you cry out. 

The delicious spot he was simply grazing earlier takes every rough stroke. Your eyes roll at the overwhelming pleasure. 

You secretly hoped that Tony needed you every time he had a rough day at work. This needy, frustrated mood looked painfully good on him- bearded jaw clenched with furrowed brows. 

You feel your cunt grow wetter around him, sliding down your drenched bodies with the flow of the water. It’s not long until all your mind can focus on is the heavy air and Tony throbbing inside of you. The knot in your core surges each time he bottoms out and groans against your shoulder. 

“Better?”, he taunts, feeling your body shudder against him. 

You are much too fucked-out at this point tell Tony how good he feels. You can feel your legs weakened around his waist as Tony keeps you upright. Your fingers tighten in his hair, causing him to moan out your name in response.

The ache in your core starts to become unbearable, the soft walls of your spasming. Tony’s not far behind you, rough strokes turning unsteady as more curses escape him. His cock finds that sensitive spot twice more before you’re clamping around him, back arching against wet tile. Pleas of Tony’s name fall in rapid order as he reaches his own end. While your high finishes, he buries himself inside you, relishing in your shaky breaths. 

Eventually, Tony lets you stand, looking a thousand times more relaxed than when he walked in. Although you technically just did him a favor, he wears a smug grin on his face. 

Before you can give him shit for it, Tony cups your face in his hands to kiss you again, stroking your cheek. 

It’s a brief kiss, the sweet, heart-melting kind that reminds you why you (happily) tolerate him in the first place. Not to your surprise, he quickly ruins the moment.

Tony’s hand leaves your face to gesture at the walls around you, eyes inspecting gridded corners with impunity.  

“You ever think about getting a bigger shower?” 

[30somethingautisticteacher]

I'm the WORST at prompts. But something whumpy... I need that so badly. I dunno, maybe throw one of them off a high place. I'd take anything that hurts one and makes the other worry. 😭

I haven't written much whump before so I hope I delivered!

When Buck and Tommy first started dating, Buck knew the risks of being with another first responder. He had mentally prepared himself for the possibility of a helicopter crash or Tommy getting trapped during a rescue. He didn't want those things to happen, but at least he had experience with such scenarios.

What he wasn't expecting, though, were the awful words the doctor had just uttered: "Stage 3 kidney cancer." Buck felt as if his heart had stopped beating right then and there. "No!" he silently screamed. Not this... not now. They were so happy together. Buck had just moved into Tommy's house, and they had all sorts of plans to renovate and redecorate. They were going to plant a little garden and had talked about getting a pet. This couldn't be happening.

Tommy was so big, strong, and capable. Tommy, his Tommy, couldn't have cancer. Buck couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face.

Tommy, on the other hand, remained stone-faced, expressionless. His voice was steady as he asked, "What's the prognosis? What are my treatment options?" He paused for a moment, then added, "Just give it to me straight, is this the end? Am I gonna die?"

Buck knew that his boyfriend was a straight shooter, but hearing him ask that so matter-of-factly sent a chill down his spine. He choked back a sob, trying to compose himself for Tommy's sake.

The doctor's expression softened slightly. "Mr. Kinard, while stage 3 kidney cancer is serious, it's not necessarily a death sentence. The five-year survival rate for stage 3 kidney cancer is about 53%. With aggressive treatment, many patients can go into remission."

Buck found little comfort in those words. "53 percent," he thought, his heart sinking. "So almost half don't survive." He knew Tommy was a fighter, but those were not good odds. And just what exactly did "aggressive treatment" mean? The uncertainty was almost as scary as the diagnosis itself.

Tommy remained stoic, his face masking the emotion that Buck new lie beneath the surface. Buck knew Tommy well enough to know that he was terrified. "And the treatment? What does that look like?" he asked, his voice unwavering.

As the doctor began explaining the potential treatment plans - surgery, radiation, chemotherapy - Buck felt completely overwhelmed. Their life had been completely turned on its head in a matter of minutes. Everything they had planned, everything they had looked forward to, now seemed trivial in the face of cancer.

Buck tried to focus on the doctor's words, knowing he needed to understand what lay ahead. But his mind kept racing. He had to be strong for Tommy, he knew that. But in this moment, he had never felt weaker in his entire life.

A wave of guilt washed over him as a selfish thought crept into his mind. He felt like the universe was taunting him. Cancer again. Cancer had affected his life before he was even born. He was born because his brother had cancer and he couldn't save him. And here cancer was again, threatening the happiness he had built with Tommy.

He glanced at Tommy, marveling at his composure. How could he be so calm when their world was crumbling around them? Buck wanted to be that pillar of strength for Tommy, but he felt like he was barely holding himself together.

Buck reached out and grasped Tommy's hand, squeezing it tightly. To his relief, Tommy squeezed back, a small gesture that spoke volumes. In that moment, Buck made a silent vow. No matter how tough things got, no matter how weak he felt, he would find the strength to be there for Tommy every step of the way. They would fight this together, just as they had faced every other obstacle in their lives.

As the doctor continued speaking, Buck tried to prepare himself for the fight ahead. Their future was uncertain and full of challenges. But one thing was clear: he wouldn't let Tommy face this alone. They were a team, and together they would tackle whatever came their way.

When they climbed into the car, Tommy quietly asked, "Are you ok?"

"Am I ok?" Buck replied, incredulous. "Babe, are you ok? This is earth-shattering."

"I know," Tommy said, tears welling up in his eyes. "But you're not stuck with me. I don't want you to feel obligated, and I won't blame you or judge you if it's too much. You didn't sign up for cancer."

"Tommy," Buck gasped, his voice thick with emotion. "I would never leave you. We may not have officially said it yet, but I am here in sickness and in health."

Tommy didn't say a word but pulled Buck into a hug. His eyes met Buck's with a look of determination. It was a silent promise to fight - for himself, for Buck, and for their future together. Because they deserved their happily ever after, and Tommy wasn't about to let cancer take that away from them.

[18catsreading]

Brennan: so with your wits, you've stashed the shadow falcon protocol -- the real ine -- deep in your gear. The fake us lifted up as you are arrested, and the fake one is crushed. You feel your leg becoming warm.

Rehka: uh oh

Brennan: you turn around. Completely naked, is Carter Haldwell. He can't stop pissing.

Rehka: and he pissed on me?

Brennan: he literally can't stop pissing.

Alex: where's the water coming from?

Izzy: *quietly dying*

Brennan: He grabs you, pulls you close, and goes [as Haldwell]: what the fuck did you do to me?

Rehka/Usha/G13: there is a thing as being too hydrated. Well -- he said "what did you do to me?"

Brennan/Haldwell: what did you do to me? I've been pissing gallons. I can't stop. It doesn:t even make sense. There's not enough piss in me!

Rehka/Usha/G13: I'm just making you as uncomfortable as i always am.

Brennan/Haldwell: oh, shit. I'm sorry.

Usha/G13: no, i don't have incontinence.

Brennan/Haldwell: get this freak in jail!!

Brennan: so, I think the shadow falcon protocol and the badge, where would you hide them in a place where they could not find them?

Jacob: Oh! We don't need you to say it for us!

Izzy: *overlapping with Jacob, same energy*

Brennan: Straight-up, Usha, where are they?

Alex: as this is happening, can Kingskin calmly walk up towards G13 and go--

Brennan: yeah

Alex/Kingskin: Gentlemen, i'm sure this is a situation that a little paper could --

Ally: you have that? You have that ability?

Alex: I have Wealthy. I have: Spend a turbo token to ease a bad situation with cash.

Brennan: hell yea

Alex/Kingskin: it seems like a very bad situation, but I just, you know, hand him a stack and a handshake, see what happens.

Brennan: hell yes, uh, you have him a stack. You give this naked pissing FBI agent a stack of cash.

Alex: that's who i give it to?

Brennan: he is the agent in charge. He is in charge.

Alex/Kingskin: Gentlemen.

Brennan: you see he looks at it and goes [as Haldwell]: a little donation to the Bureau, Kingskin?

Alex/Kingskin: hey, use it however you'd like. Maybe for that missing finger.

Brennan/Haldwell: yeah. Yeah, I lost my finger, and I can't stop pissing.

Rehka: never stop pissing

Brennan: and you see he goes [as Haldwell]: all right, boys. No need to arrest these two. Looks like they've volunteered to come downtown and have a little talk with the Bureau about what the fuck the Empresario was doing here at G&G Industries. Isn't that right, G13? *Pulls them close menacingly*

Rehka/G13: spits

Brennan/Haldwell: ow!

Jacob: a thick loogie

Rehka: it was a kidney stone

Ally: ow!

Brennan: he goes [as Haldwell]: Get them downtown. They're cooperating, aren't they?

Brennan: and you see one of the agents leans over and goes [as Agent]: Agent Haldwell you need to go to the hospital right now.

Brennan: And he turns around and says [as Haldwell]: never tell me what to do again.

Brennan: and he goes [As Agent]: no, you ... its the whole ... Its the floor of the warehouse. Its spreading. Its like 30 feet in all directions.

[As Brennan]: and he goes [as Haldwell]: don't you think I know that, you fucking idiot? All right, get them downtown, and get me a shirt and tie! Don't get me pants!

Brennan: and he storms out of there. And the agents don't handcuff you but begin to lead you to a black town car to get you down to the Bureau to talk to them.

[kukurykunapatyku]

[I.D.: Drawing of Ichiji and Ace from One Piece. Both are inside rectangle frames, Ace in right up corner and Ichiji in left down corner, their boxes intersect in the middle. Ace is seen from behind, waist up, with his head thrown back. There is crown of alternating golden lines and red spheres around his head. He doesn't have a shirt or whitebeard tatoo. In the background there is Vinsmokes' skull. Ichiji is seen from the front, hips up, slightly from above. He holds a heart in his outsretched hand. He has blood on his hands and shirt. He wears grey shirt, black trousers and white cape with red lining. His eyes are visible, he looks focused. Words '"The first"? Weird name to give a son.' and 'Perfect for a sacrifice though.' fill the remaining corners of the drawing. /End I.D.]

Vinsmoke shipping week day 1: First meet / Immortal x mortal

How to get unimaginable power, by Vinsmoke Judge:

capture a fallen star -> try to make a deal with it -> get your favourite son to make a sacrifice in your place -> ??? -> profit

I'm boo boo the fool. I got an idea for au, made illustration first, thought the quote sounded good and filled the empty space. And then I got to writing and realised I have nowhere to put the quote so it would made sense 😗

This was supposed to be one shot for the vinsmoke shipping week but this au grew on me, i might do something with it in the future Not a lot of romance here I'm afraid 👍 maybe next time

🔽Fic under readmore 🔽 Also on Ao3

cw: slight gore, dehumanizing (refering to he/him with it/its)

Heavy basement doors closed with a dull thud behind Ichiji. The fog from his breath danced in the air, looking for any crevice that would let it out of the room.

Deep underground, sealed with runes and cement, only torches illuminating the dark - someone could call the precautions unneeded, but Ichiji knew better. He looked towards their prisoner, trapped on a painted floor.A catch like this was once in a lifetime.

The star didn't show that it noticed him yet. No matter, it wasn't needed for the first part.

Repeating father's instructions, Ichiji took a piece of chalk out of his pocket a got to work. Slender lines began to fill the empty spaces on stone walls and floor; circles, crosses and vines intersecting each other in carefully calculated patterns. The star didn't seem to move, but Ichiji could feel its eyes following him around the room. Good, so it's conscious. Not letting it disrupt him, he came back to the drawings. They needed to be perfect for the barter to work out.

He noticed, Ace thought, peeking from behind his eyelids. Well well, wasn't he an observant bastard. One that knew what he was doing; the symbols, even incomplete, already brimmed with power that made his throat dry and set of ringing in his ears. Ah, so he wantsa deal. A pretty serious one, he added to himself, looking at the size and complexity of the circle. His eyes trailed after the caped man. A few healing sigils, couple time capsules, warding lines - probably a kidney. Ace licked his lips. Maybe an eye or two if he was lucky.

Finally finished, the guy stopped before him.

"I know you are awake," he huffed.

Ace slowly opened his eyes and got better look at the figure before him. Sparse light glistened on red hair and sunglasses, the rest disappearing and reappearing from shadows.

"Why hello there," Ace said with a crooked smile. "What brings you here?"

"The deal."

Ace grimaced. Barely a word. The offering better be worth the drag; at least it'll get him out of this shitty basement.

"Silly me, of course. But, you know, there should be some decorum to this. Usually people start with their name."

Redhead stared down at him. Or at least Ace assumed he did, it was hard to tell with covered eyes. After a few moments of contempt silence the contrarian in him finally won.

"Okay, see, it goes like this:" He pointed at his chest and pronounced with exaggerated care. "My. Name. Ace." He turned the finger on him. "You. Name. What?"

For a second the shape of something like embarrassment appeared on the guy's face before it smoothed over again.

"Vinsmoke Ichiji. The oldest prince of Germa Kingdom, where you currently reside."

Ace widened his eyes. The guy- Ichiji actually responded? That was a new one. He grinned; maybe this won't be a complete waste of time.

"Ichiji... <First>? Weird thing to name a child. Your parents must be something else."

One curly brow went up.

"Is that so, Ace?"

Ace shrugged.

"I said what I said." he looked up. "So, Germa? Can't say I ever heard of it. Eh, it's not like I heard of many human kingdoms."

"You do not find us interesting, I get."

"Oh, the opposite! I find you humans really interesting; it's just your kingdoms that are just so incredible dull. You have a habit of pretending that they matter but truth be told? If you look from the side, they all look exactly the same."

Ichiji tilted his head. "Hm."

"You look less upset than I expected from someone who introduced himself as a prince," Ace inquired.

"Arguing wouldn't do anything, would it? That is not what I'm here to do." He pulled something small from his pocket and knelt next to Ace. "We should proceed."

The clang of iron shackles falling on the floor shot through the room. Ace rubbed his aching wrist.

"Well, it was nice to chat."

But Ichiji wasn't done. With the same key he started scrapping the paint from the stones around Ace. Not enough to free him, but the returning power buzzed under his skin. Ace stared with stunned expression; this deal really was going to be something else.

"Lets begin," Ichiji declared.

The air grew electrified, wind without a source banging between the walls. Ichiji stood up and draw his hands together, quietly chanting the words that made Ace's hair stand up. Ace transfixed on the redhead. His mouth curved into the feral smile, unable to contain excitement singing in his veins at the promised feast.

And then Mr. prince plunged his hand deep into his chest, blood spraying around. Sudden scent hit Ace's nose and he took sharp breath, which just made the aroma travel further his lungs, clouding mind and senses. Ichiji reached towards him with the still-beating muscle in his grip.

Ace seized the heart and bite down, savory juices exploding in his mouth, tender flesh ripping between his teeth. The blood stained his mouth so he tried to lick it off, teared between devouring the treat as fast as possible and not wasting a single drop. He was leaping from joy, fresh meat satiating his ever-present hunger for a moment and filling him with new strength. The flame inside his gut grew with every swallowed morsel; when was the last time he had a treat like this?

Engrossed in the food, Ace for a moment forgot about Ichiji, who dropped on his knees, sunglasses clinking on the floor. The blood on his chest dripped slowly, the sigils doing their job. Breathing heavily, he reached forward and grabbed the closest arm. Ace looked back at him, hastily gulping down last bits of the offering.

"Oh, right, the deal. Sorry about that. But man," He glanced down. "You must be pretty desperate! So, let's hear it."

"Give my father the power to conquer all the Northern Kingdoms."

His face froze. "What?"

"You heard me."

"I- No-"

"The heart is valuable enough, we did the math. You have no reason to refuse."

"Hold on for a moment!" shouted Ace. "That's why you're doing it?"

Ichiji squinted his eyes. "Just do it. That was the deal."

"I don't care what happens to your silly kingdoms, whatever their compass points at, but you did all this-" He gestured at the growing red spot on his shirt. "-because your father asked you to?"

"Of course," Ichiji mouthed. "He is my father."

Ace saw red.

"Ah." The ice crept in his voice. "I see. The answer is no then."

That seemed to get the reaction. Ichiji jerked his head, fingers clawing harder into Ace's bicep. "You can't just refuse, that's not how it works! I gave you an offering-"

"Yeah, so I'm going to grant your wish. If your father wants something from me, he can offer me his own heart, instead of sending you."

"My wish is for you to grant my father's."

"Nope, not doing it."

"You-" The argument was interrupted with a coughing fit, Ichiji's grip losing some of its strength. Ace caught his spasming body before it hit the floor and swore, suddenly much too aware of how quickly his life was draining away. He was going to keel over the second he was out of the protection circle. But they couldn't stay here, someone will come here sooner or later and then...

An idea struck him with a flash.

"Hold on, stay still for a moment..."

Ace doubted Ichiji heard him, still trying to catch his breath, so he shifted him around and put a hand on his chest. He exhaled and let the warmth flow towards the hole; the magic meandered its way between frayed skin and muscle, healing what it could, and what it couldn't...

The beating returned, it's pulse synchronized to Ace's own, too soft to be human. There was no time to celebrate; he focused, pulled on the strings surrounded them both, stretched them and clenched his teeth. He braced for what was to come and let go.

The furry of light and colours surrounded them, the force beating the air out of his lungs, astral wind blowing the hair all over the place.

And the next second, it was over. Ace knelt on the sandy beach, retching. Crap. He leaped to his feet, already turning towards the body.

Ichiji could breathe again. He opened his eyes and stiffened when he realized where he was. Or rather where he wasn't.

"Oh, so it did work!"

"How?" Ichiji growled.

The star grinned.

"Well, it wasn't easy with your heart missing, but I managed to-"

"How did you escape?"

It pursed its lips.

"Of course that's what you're worried about. You're in luck, because those two things are connected." It pointed one finger up. "First! I used some of my flame to keep you alive. I can't give you your heart back, since I already ate it, but you shouldn't die for some more time." It grimaced. "It's not a permanent solution, so you'll need to find something else."

Ichiji made an annoyed face. It put another finger up.

"Second! Because of the seals I couldn't just disappear myself, but I could send you away. And we're connected now, so I can't be too far from you. So when I pushed you out, you pulled me with you, and that's how we're here." It grinned again, arms outstretching to the sides, as if showing him the beach. "As far from that basement as I could put us!

"And third!" Next finger joined the rest. "Your wish."

Ichiji gritted his teeth.

"I already told you what I wish for. You refused. There should be some punishment for that."

"Oh don't worry, there is! But I hadn't broken our deal yet." Star crossed its arms. "I fully intend to grant your wish. But only yours."

"Give my father the power to conquer all the Northern Kingdoms."

The vein appeared on its forehead.

"Wrong answer. Let me get this straight." It leaned over him. "With the power I got from your sacrifice I manged to not only put your death on hold, but also get us both out despite all the obstacles. Do you think I would be able to do that if I was going against your heart? The way I see it, on some level, you wanted to leave. And on some level-" he stumbled. "On some level you didn't want to die. So that's how it's going to go. I'll stick around until you can give me your wish, your true wish. I'll grant it and the deal will be finished. And don't try to put any crap like the kingdom stuff."

Ichiji scowled.

"And if I try to come back and tell father about this you will just-"

"I'll just push us as far away as possible! Good, you're learning."

Ichiji glared at Ace. "It does not sound like I have a choice."

"That's something you're used to, isn't it?"

Ichiji didn't answer.