#we will probably be logging off for a little while

[campbyler]

hey bylertwt user here. moved to privbylertwt w my oomfs. they’ll prob see this so guys ily all soooo much but like. this is UR fic. it’s not even a hc atp it’s ur world that u created w these characters. if u say mike or will, or any of the characters for that matter, wouldn’t listen to an artist or like a show or game then that’s UR choice bc it’s the world u guys wrote?? so apologies on behalf of all my twt moots bc they love to argue w each other and clearly that jumped over into their interactions w u guys, the authors. love acswy sososoosososo much and they do to, and it seems like u guys get that all of the intensity comes from a place of love bc this fic is honestly like the Big byler fic. at least in my eyes. again love it so much. so much in fact that the sneak peak u posted for ch10.2 acruslly made me tear up at work. i had to go hide in the bathroom for 10 minutes bc acswy will gets me so worked up LOL. so. thanks for writing this world and allowing us to experience it!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

hello and thank you this ask was so nice! obviously we have had some very fun and lighthearted and joke-y interactions on twt w our readers before and we love being able to post and reply to people so easily but it just gets kind of weird when we get asked very pointed and leading questions (usually “would acswy mike (and occasionally will) do/like/listen to ___”) and we say no because of (actual in-universe reason that we have thought out) and then we get that person and five of their mutuals jumping down our throats at once over something so unserious and lighthearted. we’re pretty good at taking a joke and rolling w the punches, and no one wants to be the person that has to say “hey can we fr cut that out” and ruin the fun but sometimes people definitely take the banter too far and it just feels like we are being accosted more than anything else and it isn’t fun anymore. thea and i both struggle quite a bit with deciphering tone online and our varying flavors of neurodivergency do mean that sometimes we get overwhelmed by stuff like this, and we’ve been called defensive and sensitive on there for our responses to things, but i can’t imagine anyone would be having a good time in this sort of situation — especially when we do initially try to de-escalate the situation or clarify what we mean or ask it to be toned down just to have people double down or get passive aggressive instead. like……… it’s just not fun for us at that point. our readers are welcome to hc anything they want about our universe and characters, but if you specifically ask us about it and we give you an answer you don’t like for a specific reason…. idk what to say! you asked! obviously when something gets more popular it will invite a lot more opinions from a lot more people which is totally fine and we don’t really care about that, but idk …. starting those arguments or being hostile in interactions With us or purposefully putting them where we can see it when we are active on there is just weird to us and we don’t love it. anyways thank you for your ask and your kind words!! we appreciate it a lot 🫶🏽

[rosegolden13]

TF-141's favorite cuddle positions!!

Simon wants you to sleep on top of him. No, you won’t crush him, don’t be ridiculous. He just needs you as close as possible, in contact in as many places as physically manageable. The steady weight of you on his chest doesn’t necessarily help with his constant insomnia but it doesn’t hurt either. At least, he’s awake and comfortable instead of awake and miserable. His heavy arms will press you closer into him, his chin grazing the top of your head as you sleep on his chest. Luckily for you, he’s scarily good at staying still so you’ll sleep soundly even if sleep doesn’t find him nearly as easily.

Soap will 1000% use your tits as a pillow. I’m so sorry but it’s so true and you can’t convince me otherwise. It’s his favorite place to rest his head. He’ll mumble to you sleepily, turning his head deeper into your chest until you can’t even hear him just feeling the vibration of his words against you. If you try to tell him you’re too sore, he’ll whine and get all pouty on you. Honestly, you should just let him because it’s a win-win: you don’t have to listen to his whining and he’ll actually stay still for once while he sleeps so you won’t wake up freezing with the blankets (and likely Soap) on the floor. Honorable mention: he’d also love to rest his head in your lap or your tummy. Do we see a pattern? He likes using you as a pillow.

Gaz is a classic kind of guy. He wants you as his little spoon, tucked into his side as close as he can hold you. Your back is pressed against his chest, ass pressed into his hips, and legs tangled up together. This way his nose can rest in your hair and take in the subtle fragrance of your shampoo. His arm is locked around your stomach, elbow nestled around your hip, large hand splayed over your soft tummy. It’s nearly impossible to get up unless he lets you up- good luck. And he will playfully wrestle you into position so don’t even bother. He could use half his strength and still have you snug against him, no issues.

Price wants you cuddled into his side, using his shoulder as a pillow while his arm rests on the curve of your waist. He always wants you to face him so he can sneak little morning and good night kisses easily, the scruff of his beard rubbing against your cheek. This man gives off an unnatural amount of heat so, he’ll blast the air conditioning in the summer, heedless of the electricity bill, to make sure you’ll still want to snuggle with him. You both sleep better that way anyways. Once he’s settled into a leave, he’ll sleep like a log but if he’s just gotten back from a long deployment, expect him to wake at your slightest movement. Honorable mention: he loves falling asleep with you on his lap in his favorite recliner, probably snoring right in your ear.

Sorry if you're looking for a part 2 to my little drabbles!! I just have no clue where to go with it because I did not plan on expanding it... so take this instead LOL

[yaksha-garden]

005. a private jet miles high in the sky . - with gideon

The engine droned in Eden's bones and head. The solid ground beneath their feet was deceptive, like the rocking deck of a boat on the sea, but that would have been almost comforting honestly. Not like this.

Even the dim light of the cabin, illuminating Gideon's form, even the glint of a glass bottle, it all seemed to prick their eyes through to the brain. Something about the light, or maybe thin air, or maybe the little sickness they couldn't place made him look even more... strange? Eden wasn't sure they'd describe him as uncanny, but he seemed like he didn't quite belong to the Earth they knew for reasons they'd misplaced.

(And now they weren't really on Earth anymore. Maybe he'd be more honest up here.)

"...where are we now?" they asked. What country or region are we in?, they meant. Did countries even matter this high up? Did geography matter? Eden never thought they'd go higher than the mountains. They thought the Heavens would be up here.

[milla-frenchy]

The outpost

1k0 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: you take advantage of an innocent soul to make Joel jealous during patrol Warnings: 18+ mdni. Secret relationship, jealous!Joel, possessive!Joel, exhibitionism (kinda), manhandling, pet names (baby, sweetheart), piv, cum eating. No age specified

a/n: this is written for @iamasaddie 's 24h writing sprint 💛 Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing me 😘💕 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

"What the fuck are you doing?" was written on Joel’s face when he heard you tell this guy that you were single.

But it was kind of Joel's fault, wasn't it? He was the one who wanted to keep your relationship a secret, having told you he didn’t want to disturb Ellie, while she was probably the least disruptive person in Jackson.

Maybe jealousy could ease him a little. The oldest trick in the book, even in the apocalypse.

So when you sneaked a peek at the patrol schedule in Joel's office and saw this new guy's name next to Tommy's, your interest rose. 

Mark joined Jackson a few weeks ago, and you already felt his eyes on you several times. Besides you could tell that your floral summer dress was his favorite outfit. Especially when you wore it with your cowboy boots. 

You hesitated only for a second before replacing Tommy’s name with yours.

"Why did you put your name on the beginners patrol?" Joel asked the next morning.

"I’m sure Tommy will be happy to spend more time with his family. And Mark seems to be such a nice guy!" you teased.

The color of Joel’s eyes darkened from soft brown to night black.

"He doesn't seem very bright," he bit back.

“Come on Joel, be nice. We were all rookies once," you replied, putting what you knew was his favorite smile on your face. "Even you, Joel Miller."

He scoffed, wrote “Joel” next to your names and followed you to the stables.

Your horses moved side by side while Joel stayed slightly behind. You glanced back from time to time, and Joel responded with a slight nod. 

When you reached the outpost, you showed Mark the log book, and Joel scanned the surroundings with his binoculars. You looked at him for a while, amazed by how handsome he was in that blue shirt. 

The conversation between you and Mark slowly got casual. Your lives before Jackson, your lives in Jackson. And not very subtly, he ended up asking if you were single. 

“Yes, I am,” you replied, eyeing Joel who suddenly stopped pacing the room and stared down at you sitting in an old wooden chair. He swallowed hard, his eyes filled with doubt and annoyance. 

It wasn’t Joel Miller at that moment, the man a lot of people in Jackson still feared. But just Joel, your Joel, and you wondered if you'd pushed his buttons too much, until possessiveness and jealousy took over in his gaze.

“Go check the area, Mark,” he said in a tone that left no room for discussion, grabbed your elbow as soon as the man left, and pressed you against the wall before kissing your neck.

“Single?” he scoffed, “I don’t think so,” he said as he nibbled your shoulder and placed his hand over your mouth.

“Shh, I need you to be quiet, ok? Say “Yes, Joel.”

“Yes Joel,” you whispered between his slightly spread fingers.

“Already done being a brat, uh?” he mocked, but instantly growled “Christ” when you licked his palm.

He pulled you into another room, slammed the door and made you bend over the table. Growing, he took your jeans and panties off hastily, then kicked your feet apart, spreading your legs. You pushed your ass out, offering him a view of your glistening cunt, begging to be claimed.

“That’s what all this was about?” he groaned. “To make me so damn jealous,” he hissed, pulling his jeans down mid-thigh. He bottomed out in one go, making you clench on his shaft and pant loudly.

“Shhh baby, be quiet. You don't want him to hear us, right? Just take it. Silently,” he grunted, thrusting in and out, his calloused hands buried in the flesh of your hips.

“Yeah, just like that, you always take me so well. Always let me use you, let me…. fuck! let me fuck you. Christ, you feel so good wrapped around me, you know this?”

You hummed, carried by his slow but firm pace. The one you preferred, that made you feel like your folds always struggled to welcome him every time he thrust in again. The one that always made you whimper and moan. You never got used to his girth, every fuck felt like it was your first with him.

“He's probably back now, you think he can hear us? Hear you whimper each time I stuff you full of my cock?” 

He grabbed your arms and kept them on the small of your back, using your body and pussy as he wished, his large paw holding your wrists easily.

“You think he's jacking off right now? Thinking about the cunt he can't have, because she's only mine?”

He released one of your hands, then said “come on, baby, give it to me. Let him hear you come on my cock.”

You brushed your clit for a few seconds before exploding, unable to stay totally quiet.

“Oh shit, yeah… shit! I bet he’s thinking about how good she is. And yet, he's got no fucking idea how perfect she is,” he growled, grabbing you and pressing your back against his chest, the sound of skin on skin slapping echoing in the room.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come. On your knees, baby… Oh fuck yeah, open up for me, shit. Oh fuck, I'm gonna…” he growled one last time, still fucking his shaft with his fist, the tip resting on your tongue, and then coated your throat in white.

You licked him clean, eyes raised towards him.

Did he know how wrapped around his finger you were? Did he know no man could make a place for himself in your life, in your bed? In your cunt?

“Here, sweetheart. Lemme help you,” he said, just before pushing his tongue between your lips and sharing a few drops of cum left in your mouth, his large, warm palms cupping your cheeks.

You left the room and saw Mark back. 

“She ain't single,” Joel gruffed. “Next time you’re going with Tommy.”

You smiled. The oldest trick in the book for sure.

Even in the apocalypse.

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[neonbonded]

MC is an independent, strong woman—we love her for that—but what if… what if she told the LIs she wanted to quit her job and go full-on wife, kids, stay-at-home life? I feel like it’d be fluffy and hilarious like Sylus and Caleb would be over the moon spoiling her into the richest most pampered wife in the country, and Xavier would immediately start making babies lol

Stay-At-Home Sweetheart

♡ ft. love and deepspace men x fem!reader ♡ cw: fluff, future talk, domestic life, possessiveness, soft power fantasies, rich boyfriend behavior ♡ a/n: thank you for the suggestion—this was such a fun little fluffy write! I hope you enjoy your taste of spoiled wife life

CALEB — “So you’re telling me… I get to spoil you forever?”

You say it offhandedly.

You’re sitting in his lap, one leg draped lazily over his thigh, sipping tea in your sleep shirt while he’s scrolling through post-mission reports.

You don’t even think he’s really listening when you mumble,

“What if I just quit and stayed home full time? Cooked, cleaned, wore pretty dresses. Full wife mode.”

But Caleb freezes.

Like you slapped him with an engagement ring.

His hands drop to your hips. His head tilts. He stares at you like you just offered him divinity.

“Wait. Say that again.”

You blink. “I said maybe I want to be a stay-at-home—”

“Wife.” “You said wife. Don’t skip the good part.”

You try to laugh it off. “I mean, it’s a dumb idea—”

“No, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

And he’s already spiraling.

Out loud.

“You’d look so good barefoot in the kitchen. No. Wait. In my t-shirt. Holding a toddler and a spatula. Crying over a baking fail while I kiss it better—Jesus Christ.”

You: “You okay?”

“Absolutely not.”

Five minutes later, he’s dragging out a notepad and scribbling:

“Baby name list, but chaotic: Nova, Toast, Jellybean???”

“Do we buy a second house or just knock out the wall next door?”

“I need to up my life insurance because you’re not lifting anything heavier than a glass of wine ever again.”

You tease him—ask if he’s going to make you do laundry, too.

His response?

“You? Laundry? No. You’ll be too busy getting railed over the dryer while I fold towels with one hand.”

You: “CALEB.”

He grabs your face in both hands, deadly serious.

“I love your independence. Your brilliance. Your strength.”

A pause.

“But if you ever, ever, give me permission to spoil you full-time, to keep you warm and soft and loved and mine all day long?”

“I will become the most insufferable, overprotective, apron-wearing husband in recorded history.”

And the worst part?

He’s dead serious.

There’s already a Pinterest board. And a credit card. And probably a draft resignation email saved to your tablet—you didn’t write it.

But Caleb?

He’s just… ready.

Because to him, you are home. And if you want to stay there forever?

He’ll make it a kingdom.

XAVIER —“If that’s what you want… I’ll take care of the rest.”

It’s quiet.

Late evening, somewhere between mission fatigue and domestic stillness. You’re both curled up on the couch—your legs stretched across his lap, his hand absently resting on your shin.

He’s reading through intel logs. You’re chewing on the corner of a cookie. The room smells like his tea and your lotion and something safe.

And then you say it. Casual. Sleepy. Barely even meaning to.

“I’ve been thinking about quitting fieldwork. Just staying home. Full wife era. Maybe some kids. You’d visit on lunch breaks, and I’d make bad pancakes in your hoodie.”

You don’t even look at him right away. You expect a raised brow. A quiet “You’d get bored in a week.”

But instead?

Silence.

Followed by the soft slide of a datapad being set down.

Then his hand curls around your ankle. Just slightly. Anchoring.

“You’d really want that?”

You glance over.

His face is still neutral—stoic, quiet, unreadable—but his eyes?

Locked on you. Sharp. Focused. Lit with something that looks too much like longing to be casual.

You nod, shy. “Maybe. I don’t know. It just sounds… nice.”

He’s quiet for a second longer.

Then?

“Then we should start planning.”

You blink. “Planning what?”

“Everything.”

And then—without a hint of irony:

“I’ll map out when I can reduce field time. We’ll need a safer neighborhood. Somewhere with open sky. Room for a crib.”

You stare.

“Wait, are you being serious—?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he says simply. “You said kids. You want to stay home. That’s not something I’d let you do alone.”

His fingers trace a line down your calf.

Soft. Possessive.

“You want a family with me.”

You flush. “I said maybe—”

“Maybe is enough.”

He leans in. Presses a kiss to your knee.

“We’d be good at it. You’d be good at it.”

Then, softer—more vulnerable than he usually lets himself sound:

“I think I’ve wanted that longer than I realized.”

You’re too stunned to reply.

So he does what he always does: fills the silence with something that sounds like logic but bleeds affection around the edges.

“We’ll need to track your cycle,” he murmurs. “If we’re going to do this properly.”

You: “XAVIER—”

He shrugs. Calm. Unfazed.

“I’ve already marked probable dates.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or climb into his lap and tell him to start now.

(You do both.)

RAFAYEL — “My muse… in an apron? I need to sit down.”

He’s painting.

Or pretending to.

Really, he’s mostly shirtless, barefoot, standing in the center of his studio surrounded by chaotic swatches of violet and gold while a brush dangles lazily between two fingers.

And you?

You’re curled up on the floor near the open window, sipping tea, flipping through a magazine when you say:

“I kind of want to quit working. Just stay home. Full-time wife. Cook, nap, look hot, raise tiny artistic children who only wear linen and answer to names like Moth and Cypress.”

You mean it jokingly.

Casually.

But the sound of a paintbrush hitting the floor makes your head snap up.

Rafayel’s just staring at you.

Mouth slightly open.

Eyes blown wide.

“You…” he breathes. “You want to be mine?”

You blink. “I— I am yours?”

“No, no. I mean domestically. Biblically. Artistically. Legally.”

And then?

He drops to one knee in the most chaotic half-prayer, half-shock position you’ve ever seen.

“I always knew you were divinely unhinged, but this—this is the final painting. My muse. My wife. My aproned disaster angel. I need a moment.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

He lunges for you.

Pulls you into his lap on the floor, paint still wet on his hands, smearing across your shirt like it’s a signature.

“Say it again.”

You: “What?”

“That you want to stay home. That you want to make soup and babies and let me buy you pastel oven mitts.”

You laugh. “I mean, I do like pastel.”

“We’ll get matching ones. For the baby.”

You freeze.

He doesn’t.

“Rafayel—”

“I want them to have your mouth and my hair. Or your hair and my mouth. Either way, they’ll be dramatic and ruinous.”

He starts sketching. On your thigh. With paint-stained fingers.

“Tiny limbs. Stubborn expression. Covered in jam. Perfect.”

You can’t stop laughing now, your face buried in his shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to be more excited about this than me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he hums, kissing your collarbone. “I’ve been ready to ruin you with love since the moment you snuck into my studio and insulted my color palette.”

You whisper, “So you’d really want that?”

And for once, he goes still.

Serious.

His fingers curl at your waist.

“I’d worship you every day for it.”

“I’d paint your swollen belly and your tired eyes and your messy hair like it’s the only truth I’ve ever known.”

A beat.

“You don’t have to be anything for me. But if you want to just… be loved? Be kept?”

His voice drops.

“I was made for that.”

ZAYNE — “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

You say it on a Tuesday.

The apartment smells like coffee and something citrusy—probably the linen spray you used on the couch that made him sneeze earlier.

You’re curled into the corner of the sectional, legs tucked under you, still in one of his oversized shirts from last night. Your hair’s a mess. Your heart? Still not at full strength after last month’s mission.

Zayne’s at the kitchen island, scrolling through research on his tablet.

And that’s when you say it:

“I’m thinking of quitting.”

His eyes don’t move at first.

Just a slow blink. Still calm.

“Quitting…?”

You shrug, voice light. “Hunting. The whole thing. Maybe it’s time. I could stay home. Rest. Get spoiled. Be your sexy little housewife or whatever.”

You expect a scoff.

Some half-snide retort.

Instead?

He sets the tablet down.

Quietly.

Then walks over.

You blink up at him. “What?”

He crouches in front of you.

Not joking. Not teasing.

Just… looking.

“Say it again.”

You falter. “That I want to quit?”

He nods once. Slow. Like he’s memorizing every word.

And then?

He exhales. Deep. Controlled.

“Good.”

“Zayne?”

His hand comes up to your chest—right over your heart. Like he’s checking it. Like he always does. Thumb brushing that familiar spot beneath your collarbone.

“Do you know what it’s been like watching you come home hurt?” he says softly. “Waiting to see if you’ll faint halfway through a sentence because your pulse is erratic again?”

You go quiet.

His jaw tightens, but his voice stays gentle.

“You think I didn’t notice how your hands were shaking after that last field run? Or how long you spent in the medbay?”

“I didn’t want you to worry—”

“I do worry.”

A pause.

Then—

“But if you’re really done… if I can finally stop wondering whether your heart will give out before mine ever gets the chance to break…”

He trails off.

Then rests his forehead against your knees.

Breath shaky. But steadying.

“Then I’ll build you the quietest life imaginable.”

“You’ll never have to lift a finger again. Not if I can help it.”

You lean down, fingers threading through his hair.

He presses a kiss to your thigh.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he whispers.

And for the first time in months?

He doesn’t check your pulse again.

Because for once, he can feel it—steady. Safe. Home.

SYLUS — “You want to be mine? Fully? Then say it again.”

It starts as a joke.

Just a passing comment while you’re still half-asleep in his bed, buried in his obscenely expensive sheets.

“I think I wanna be a stay-at-home wife.”

You say it with a yawn. Barely conscious.

But Sylus?

He stills.

Lays back on the pillow and turns his head toward you.

His eyes narrow just slightly. That unreadable look—the one that means he’s calculating something dangerous in the background.

“Say that again.”

You blink up at him, confused. “What?”

“What you just said.”

You hesitate. Then mumble, “I said I wanna be a stay-at-home wife.”

There’s a pause.

Then—

His smirk curves slow and sharp.

He sits up. Drapes one arm across the headboard. The sheets slide down his chest, revealing the fine lines of muscle.

“Finally,” he murmurs.

“Finally what?”

He leans in.

“Finally you’re giving me an excuse to spoil the hell out of you without pretending to feel guilty about it.”

You blink. “Wait, I was joking—”

“No, you weren’t.”

He presses a kiss to your temple.

“I’ve seen the way you melt when I buy you things. The way you light up when I feed you. The way you pout when I’m gone too long.”

He grabs his phone from the nightstand.

You frown. “What are you doing?”

“Canceling every mission you had this week.”

Tap. Tap.

“Calling my architect to add another garden wing to the house.”

Tap.

“And messaging my tailor to start designing custom loungewear.”

“…Sylus.”

“You’ll need something to wear while you parade around this apartment doing absolutely nothing except looking pretty.”

You try to sit up, but he throws an arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap instead.

“No more early meetings. No more danger. No more stress.”

His fingers trail down your spine.

“Just this. Me. Spoiling you.”

You blink up at him. “What if I get bored?”

He smiles slowly. Dangerous and amused.

“Then I’ll give you something to do.”

“Like what?”

His voice drops.

“Like carrying my last name.”

“Like letting me put a baby in you.”

You go silent.

Your face heats.

And Sylus?

He just hums against your neck.

“Thought so.”

“Now shut up and let me shop for your new walk-in closet.”

[jan-likes-jam]

Hc's of One Piece Men as dad's / having a pregnant S/O pt. 2

Reader could be any pov, we support M!preg ♡

List of characters: Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo.

Tw: Pregnancy.

Fluff, perhaps angst. A tiny bit of suggestive with Doflamingo.

Second post. I saw my first had more attention than I expected it to (I trully expected it to flop)

Pls vote if you like it, it will keep encouraging me to post. I TAKE SUGGESTIONS.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Red hair Shanks:

★ Shanks was probably drunk when you broke the news to him.

★ Thought it was a joke. Refused to believe you for a whole while until you either cried or showed him a valid proof.

★ After that he tried to recompose himself, said he needed time, and locked himself in his quarters for hours on end, almost entire days.

★ Wondered everything after that. He got some close calls before, but it seems he took life for granted and now he had to assume the consequences of his actions.

★ By this he meant adhere to whatever choice you made without complaint.

★ As if resignated to his destiny, he went to look for you.

★ Finding out you were heartbroken, already having him read like a book and knowing what was going on on his mind.

★ Guilt striked. He was as guilty in this situation but left the burden 100% in your shoulders.

★ He sat by your side, his arm hugging your shoulder.

★ "I know I'm an asshole" he chucked. "Can we try our bests?"

★ Naturally bad at baby stuff, doing things with one hand is harder.

★ This man sleeps like a log. Could sleep through the baby crying the whole night. You have to probably kick him to wake him up.

★ Brings A LOT of gifts after each adventure. Toys, tales, clothes, exotic souveniers from his journeys. And of course, some gifts to you too.

★ Refused to take you on his ship. Basically pays child support for you and the baby and visits whenever he can.

Buggy The Clown:

★ He basically drained all the color from his painted face. Became a mime.

★ Couldn't process it. Face contorted in shock, as if Gold D. Roger's ghost was standing behind you.

★ Took you in his ship while he decided what to do about it. Nobody in his crew could agree on something, so he had to actually think himself.

★ "I should leave them on a island.... perhaps I should pay child support." ... "Like hell I'm paying for that child!" ... "But well, I'm already an emperor, nobody would dare to bother us." ... "NO, DEFFINETLY NOT."

★ In the end you had to calm him down, he tried to pretend nothing was wrong, and that he had everything under control. But you knew how anxious he really was.

★ In the end, you both decided to try it out.

★ He actually was insanely anxious about how that baby would look. He hoped it looked like you, he couldn't forgive himself if it was born with that ugly red nose and ridicule blue hair.

★ Somehow, he is good with children. Knows how to make them stop crying, would make your baby laugh a lot.

★ His devil fruit let's him multitask and take care of the baby even if he is not actually present in the room. Usually uses it to tend the crying child while he can still be the little spoon in bed with you.

★ That baby is absolutely everyone's problem. Everybody just knows it has the recipe of trouble. It has Buggy's genes.

★ Probably pannicked even more than you during the delivery.

★ Proceeded to parade his new born like it was the Lion King.

★ Would actually get jelous from his own child due to how many attention it demands from you. "Hey. You seem to forget someone here." He says as he basically climbs to your side in the bed to seek your affection.

Dracule Mihawk:

★ He looked puzzled.

★ He didn't demand, but asked for a pregnancy test. Believed it inmmediatly when it came out possitive.

★ He didn't say anything, you just noticed him start to slowly baby proof the entire castle. It started off slow, but now it seems almost excesive.

★ He started locking doors leading to dangerous rooms, keeping everything clean and tidy. Even putting potential sharp things away, like edges of tables, and floor level mirrors. He even made sure not to leave Yoru around anymore.

★ He worked extra hard to get the necessities needed. A beautiful, carved crib by his own hand. It was simple, but it was honest. Toys, baby clothes he even made himself. Mihawk intended his newborn to feel it's parent's love even if he didn't know how to verbally or phisically express it.

★ He noticed you having trouble, symptoms were killing you. And despite not saying nothing his hand always reached for yours in the worst momments, the world's best swordsman feared your situation, calling you a warrior for putting through this.

★ One particular bad night where you were sleep deprived, with nausea, and body soreness. He held you and craddled you, as if he shared your pain. He continued even when you were asleep.

★ One day you were cooking, he silently appeared from behind you lifting your heavy belly. You almost moaned with relief.

★ "I read this brings you satisfaction." He cassually commented, revealing he's been reading parenting books. That made you melt. Does it every once in a while to soothe you while being sore.

★ Once the child is born, Mihawk would almost take care of it every night, he is already awake.

★ You wake up sometimes to go to the bathroom and see him in the baby's room reading, sewing, even working in the dim candle light.

★ Wouldn't outright admit it, but Whenever he has to leave, he is yearning to return home. To his love, and his baby.

★ Would outright dissapear anyone who even dares to say your name or your child's. Since your family expanded, you became sacred territory in his heart.

Sir Crocodile:

★ Not particularly amused by the idea.

★ Thought of multiple times of just sending you away with enough money to do well.

★ However, that would've been inconvenient.

★ Crocodile is not a sensitive man. Never touched or moved by the idea of a family, of someone to inherit his power and fame and wealth.

★ However, seing his adored partner swelling with child made something stir inside him. Like he needed to provide, to protect.

★ He just appeared, knocked the first wooden surface abvailable and called your attention.

★ "Perhaps you'll wanna take a look on the new... accomodations."

★ He suggested as he walked away. You had to wobble to where he guided you, full nursery set up next to your shared bedroom.

★ He never stopped smoking around you. However, he didn't allow you to drink any liquor, have a cigarette, or even force a poor muscle in your body.

★ Once the baby arrived, he would catch himself checking the crib chronologically.

★ Would pretend to be annoyed when you forced him to hold it. "I do not have time for this." He gruffed and groaned every single time.

★ Nobody should find out how bewitched he was for that child. He couldn't allow himself to have more weaknesses.

★ Would have memmorized your guy's child medical information, as well as yours. Always prepared for any type of emergency.

★ Actually hired babysitter and body guards to look after the baby for a night to take you out for dinner.

★ He spent every second of that dinner fidgeting with his hook, an uneasy frown on his face.

★ It was you who had to hold his hand. "What if we go back home?" You tried to hide the warm smile. Willing to appear the desesperate one.

★ He nodded, already reaching for the door. "If you insist." He didn't even finish his wine, nor let you finish yours. At the end, a quiet dinner at home was enough, because the three of you were together.

Donquixote Doflamingo:

★ Would be so happy it's unsettling.

★ Started bragging about the news to everybody who had ears. People were really freaked out about it.

★ The truth is that he had high hopes, his own blood seemed to dissapoint him before. But perhaps this time would be different.

★ He actually made sure you were well taken care of during the pregnancy. The best doctors, chefs and fashionable clothes that suited yout state.

★ He is not good at supporting you, or helping you with your self steem issues, he might just give you something nice to eat or wear and tell you to "stop crying all the time".

★ Probably would stand by during the delivery, actually amused by it. Sitting next to you during the whole ordeal, but not really saying much.

★ If, by any chance you health got at high risk during delivery, he would inmmediatly switch his mood from the usually fun Doflamingo to a dead serious Doflamingo.

★ "What are you doing? Save them." He would say, after seeing your pulse get weaker. How you were almost passed out on that bed. "But the child is almost here." Tried to explain the doctor. "Do I look like I give a single fuck? I don't care about the brat, save my partner or else." He threats with his strings, already reaching for the doctor's throat.

★ Whenever you breastfed, he forbid people to interrupt, comment or even look at you as you share these intimate momments with HIS child.

★ "Look at you little bird, so full of vitality. It suits you good." Murmurs against your ear as he massaged your shoulders. Child heavy asleep on your chest.

★ Wouldn't interrupt for the first days, almost as if leaving the baby to it's luck and you to take care of it by yourself.

★ When he saw you around 3 or 4 days later, a sleep deprived mess, with dirty clothes, and unwashed hair, he felt disgusted. Perhaps not with you, but with himself for not taking proper care of his partner.

★ After that hired someone qualified to babysit while you were busy, and checked regularly that you slept, bathed and were properly fed.

★ Would enjoy to sleep hugging you from behind, resting his inmmense hands on your stomach. "You looked beautiful while pregnant" he whispered once. Not sure if you were awake or not. "Perhaps I should knock you up again". He kissed your head.

★ Now you live terrified of having a Doflamingo army.

[kxsagi]

hihii can i req reader that is like academically smart but is also very naive at the same time?? reader would probably fall for the most obvious clickbait or something feel free to do with any bllk characters (especially sae 💋💋) thank youu but also feel free to ignore this if you don't want it

“𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦”

a/n: i read rage bait instead of click bait after writing everything, but decided to keep it since it’s still fitting 😭

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, karasu tabito

isagi yoichi

“you’re literally smarter than me, so why are you fighting with an anime profile picture?” 

you’re writing a full essay in the comments under a rage bait post that says “math is fake and only lazy people like numbers.” 

“love. they want you to argue. that’s the whole point. it’s bait.” 

you, while typing aggressively: “it’s the principle.” 

isagi literally has to pry the phone out of your hands. 

“they’re trolling. why are you citing academic sources in a thread about flat earth?” 

alternates between being impressed and deeply concerned. 

“you’re so smart it’s scary. and yet, you just fell for a post that said ‘gravity is a scam made by the big ladder.’” 

will still throw slurs under his fake account at anyone that tries to come after you. 

itoshi rin

“get off the internet. log off. i’m blocking you from twitter.” 

you: reading a post that says “the mitochondria isn’t real.” 

also you: seeing red. 

he watches you scroll past rage bait like, “no... don't take the bait... dammit.” 

“you know better. you literally know better.” 

gets mad with you but refuses to engage. 

he’s just staring at you spiraling over a troll who said “logic is fake” and muttering, “wtf is wrong with this generation.” 

turns off your wifi like a concerned parent. 

“you’re not arguing with someone named @cattboysupreme69. go read a book.” 

kaiser michael

“you’re falling for rage bait again, huh? i love this dumb little hobby of yours.” 

finds it hilarious that you get so fired up over random garbage takes. 

literally records you pacing and ranting about how “emotions are valid sources of decision making, actually.” 

“schatz, you’re a valedictorian. why are you beefing with someone who said ‘plants don’t have feelings so vegans are evil’?” 

fully encourages it for fun. 

“no, no, quote them. let’s go viral.” 

brags to his teammates like, “my girl’s a genius and also beefing with half of conspiracy tik tok. goals.” 

secretly reports every troll you argue with behind the scenes. he’s protective in a petty, passive-aggressive way. 

itoshi sae

“this is why i hate people. and also why you shouldn’t be online unsupervised.” 

you fell into a rage trap that said “women don’t belong in STEM.” 

sae, watching you rage-type a dissertation just said, “block them and move on.” 

you: “no. they need to be educated.” 

he takes your phone. 

“they don’t. they have 12 followers and use comic sans unironically.” 

quietly annoyed but impressed that you always come with facts. 

lowkey reads your arguments later and thinks, “damn. my girl snapped.” 

would absolutely start threatening people if they get too bold with you. 

“she might be arguing like it’s a thesis defense, but if any of you make her cry, i’m breaking your nose.” 

shidou ryusei

“babe, you’re smart as hell, but you’re also fighting with rage bait like it personally insulted your dog.” 

thinks it’s hilarious. 

“they said books are just dead trees. you really gonna let that slide?” 

you: frothing with rage “i will not let that slide.” 

shidou: eating popcorn and hyping you up “go off, professor! educate their ass!” 

he will 100% jump in and start trolling with you. 

“yo, babe, say something about their spelling. that always pisses ‘em off.” 

gives you an award when you get someone to delete their comment. 

“queen behavior. love that for you.” 

nagi seishiro

“can we not. like ever. please.” 

the most done every time you scream: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE SUN ISN’T A STAR AND IT’S A PLANET?!” 

he just wants to play games, not watch you get into a 14-comment back-and-forth with a dude named @trumpfan420. 

“you’re literally a genius. why are you arguing with people who think australia doesn’t exist?” 

lies on your lap and sighs dramatically. 

“you’re lucky you’re cute when you’re mad.” 

secretly proud of how well you school people, though. 

once tried to help you argue but got bored after one sentence. 

“i told them ‘L’ and left.” 

mikage reo

“you’re academically brilliant. and also very online. it’s like watching an intellectual gladiator fight trolls.” 

every time he hears “REO. THEY SAID SHAKESPEARE WAS MID.” he already knows what’s happening. 

you’re pacing around the house, typing furiously, quoting sonnets and throwing in stats. 

“you’re smarter than the entire room but still letting a 14-year-old with a controversial hot take ruin your night.” 

he makes tea and sits beside you while you rage. 

“need a bibliography link, baby?” 

lowkey brags to others: “yeah my girl just flamed a whole subreddit with APA formatting.” 

you’re his little chaos genius and he loves it. 

“you’re going to be a nobel prize winner and twitter’s most feared debater at the same time.” 

karasu tabito

“you’re out here fighting for your life against rage bait and i’m living for it.” 

watches you with popcorn like it’s live TV. 

“ohhh here they go. someone said philosophy is just overpriced poetry. let’s gooo.” 

he fully instigates sometimes. 

“babe, someone said gravity isn’t real. thoughts?” 

you start ranting, and he just grins like an agent of chaos. 

“why are you like this?” 

“why are you like this?” 

says he’ll block the trolls for you. ends up ratioing them with memes instead. 

y’all are the duo that trolls the trolls and then drops a full essay for fun. 

if anyone dares say “women can’t argue,” karasu just goes, “you sure about that?” and lets you annihilate them in 5k characters. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[orphicsun]

Finding old man Eugene’s porn with Ellie..

Warnings: dub-con (reader and Ellie are high), smoking, mentions of porn, sexual tension, fingering (r! receiving), sloppy make-outs, Astrid is just a mention from one of the tlou patrol logs so I included her for fun idk

Word count: 1.6k

Your hands are frigid and almost numb even through your gloves. The snow from outside is only falling tenfold, and you’re lucky to have found shelter at all. You watch as Ellie ties Shimmer up nearby and turns to you, and you’re surprised she isn’t all teeth-chattering and “brrr.” The girl has way too much tolerance for the elements compared to you, who is currently freezing.

“You said you’ve been in here before?” Ellie inquires, and you nod. It’s true that you’re familiar with the creek trails; many times have you and Cat been on horseback and on foot through the town East, along the water stream that is probably now all frozen over.

You lead Ellie downstairs and without much words, you begin to scavenge around for supplies. You know what’s common here - ammo, rations, all the basics. You know that this is more than a simple scavenge-and-go, though. There’s practically a blizzard outside, and you know that at least the generator set up in case of emergencies is visible. 

You begin to power up the generator with a few clean spins. Last patrol, Astrid taught you how to crank the handle without nearly breaking it. The thing’s a little rusty with disuse since it has been a while since the temperature has called for winter weather, so it takes more arm power than usual. When the generator finally roars to life, you sigh in relief and try to find Ellie, who is more than likely still going through ammo cases. 

You find her at a door that’s closed off from the main area. She notices your presence, turning to you with a question. “Ever been this far?”

“Nah. The only person who’s ever been down there is Eugene.”

“Shall we?” Her smile is roguish. 

You nod. “There’s no telling what is even down there.”

With a little turn of the door handles (which were slightly stiff), the door is open and the sight before you is not a room but a staircase. Ellie peers down into it.

“Let’s be cautious, it may need to be cleared out.”

The sight before you is not a horde of clickers but instead a one that makes Ellie mutter out a “holy shit…” and you agree; holy shit is right. Dead marujana plants are all over the room, and there’s a small television next to a stained couch, stacks of vcr tapes in a pile on the floor.

“Well, I think we should take a much-deserved break.” You say with a smile that reminds Ellie of a kid on Christmas morning, quickly padding over to the tapes to find something worth watching. Ellie approaches as well, but she raises an eyebrow at your jaw being practically on the floor now.

“What?-” Ellie starts, but then she catches a glimpse of the tape cover. There are two women completely naked and a comically large title reading “Sorority Sisters.” She sputters out a laugh, “Eugene’s porn collection?”

“What the fuck?! I just wanted something like The Matrix, I-” Ellie’s face makes you realize that she is truly considering it- watching a porn together. You and Ellie were only friends, wasn’t that weird?

“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’ll be funny. Do we have anything better to do trapped in the middle of a blizzard?”

You sigh and relent. As much as it makes your stomach feel all hot and weird at the thought of watching bad porn with Ellie, you don’t have any better ideas. “Fine. But only if we can find something to smoke down here as well.”

You and Ellie aren’t as far apart as you should be. The film has been playing on the low quality television in front of you for only the past 20 minutes, and there’s still another 30 to go. Your body feels all warm inside from the weed, and Ellie’s thigh is brushing up against yours as the two of you sit next to each other on the couch. The two of you are out of your jackets and are in just pants and a t-shirt, the heat from the generator fully enveloping the air. The blizzard is all but forgotten. You know that you should put some distance between you and Ellie, that this could have consequences. You’ve already fucked up. You’re supposed to be on patrol, for fuck’s sake. Not watching two college girls eat each other out on a grainy screen and take occasional hits to an old joint, but here you are.

This shouldn’t be turning you on as much as it is. With someone like Cat or Dina, you would be laughing and making jokes about the exaggerated moans. With Ellie next to you, her gorgeous face lit up by the television light, you are both silent. 

And then her fingers skim over your thigh. Just slightly, but enough for you to notice. You’re losing your composure, your breathing heavier. You can feel the moment your panties become soaked. There is an unbearable heat in your lower stomach, and suddenly, it’s as if every little thing you notice about the moment surrounds you at once. You can mainly only smell the weed, but being so close to Ellie means that her crisp scent fills your nose and apparently turns you on even more. Her body heat makes you want to forget that she’s just a friend. Each (stupidly loud) moan echoing in the room from the porno even makes you clench, just because you’re aware Ellie is right next to you and you’re watching this together. 

Before you can even process it, Ellie’s hand is sliding between your thighs, massaging your inner left thigh. You feel a familiar heat pool within your belly. 

Her voice is low, just an intimate, raspy whisper in your ear that nobody else would ever be able to hear, “you can tell me to stop.”

You should tell her to stop. You should swat her hand away and tell her to keep her paws off of you. But.. you don’t. Instead, you let out an exhale, a shaky and bewildered sound before guiding her hand right between your legs. She can’t touch you properly through the stiff fabric of your jeans, but she has no intentions of rushing things. Ellie is a damn tease, distracting you by leaning down and skimming chapped lips over the sensitive skin of your neck. The breaths she takes are short and the exhales are hot against your skin, making you shudder. Her fingers are firmly rubbing over your clit through the fabric of your denim jeans. 

“Such a damn tease,” you scold, but you’re already slightly moving your hips for more friction. 

Ellie smiles against your pulse, barely sinking her teeth into the skin to make you gasp, then pulling away to laugh. “But you know you love it.” 

You can’t deny it, so you grow silent, letting her continue to play with you as if you’re a puppet pulled by strings, the major string being your pussy. Ellie knows you so fucking well, it’s almost uncanny. That is how it has always been, though. Ellie has always been able to read you like an open book. She knows your favorite things, she knows that she is your favorite person, she knows when to tell you stupid puns and insult you and when to put a comforting hand on your shoulder and wipe away your tears. Now, without ever touching you so intimately before, she just knows how to make you beg for more. 

“Ellie, please..” You plead, and the heightened pitch doesn’t go unnoticed by Ellie. She pulls away from her work on your neck to leave a soft kiss on your jawline, trailing up to your ear. 

“Tell me that you want more, and I’ll fuck you right here.” She doesn’t sound like your usual Ellie, instead raspy and so serious. You know that this isn’t a prank. All you want to hear is that voice telling you filthy things while she fucks you, and just like that, the porno in the background is washed out. 

“I want you to fuck me.” 

You’re whining, your head laid back on the couch with your legs spread out wide for her. Your jeans are on the floor, your underwear pooled around your ankles with the haste that Ellie used to be able to fuck you. Her fingers are drilling so deeply into your cunt, nearly making it impossible to hold on longer. Once she had you naked, she didn’t feel the urge to tease.

“Fingers so deep in this cunt, and you’re still begging for more,” she laughs at the way your walls clench in response and your whines are just as loud as the girls on tv who are long forgotten. 

“Ellie, fuck- I dunno how long I can hold on…I wanna cum so bad, please, please-” You’re quickly cut off by your own cry when Ellie curls her fingers up into your g-spot, her thumb padding at your clit to only heighten the sensation. She knows you so well. How does she know the way you like it, the way you touch yourself when you’re alone in your bedroom at night.The way your palm brushes against your clit as you finger your drenched hole? The fact that you grip the sheets with your free hand and moan her name? 

“Shh, c’mon, baby. I’ve got you, just cum for me.” She coos in your ear, slipping in a third finger and stretching you out so nicely, filling you up so good and then she’s stroking your walls- 

Your orgasm hits not in waves, but instead like a pulse, beating and Ellie can feel the way you flutter, she can feel the way your clit beats against the calloused, wet pad of her thumb. Your thighs instinctively close her in, you can’t beat to feel her pull out until this onslaught of pure star-striking pleasure is over. Her free hand turns your face towards her and she swallows up your moans in a sloppy kiss, her tongue fucking into your mouth lazily and sensually. 

The moments after are sweaty and sweet. She lay next to you across the couch, one of her arms underneath your body so that she can keep a hand wrapped around your waist. Everything is beautiful and so warm, like a fever dream. Your high is still on-going, and you wonder how this could ever end. 

When Jesse’s voice rings through the building, it does end.

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 jug

synopsis: after going out to search for luffy, you and zoro stumble upon a bottle of pink sake. zoro drinks it without question, but lives to regret it, as you have to deal with the consequences... physically

cw: nsfw (nothing too crazy), fluff, angst if you really squint, aphrodisiacs, reader is down bad for zoro, and vice versa, whiny-ish zoro (he's in pain give him a break)

a/n: thought of the song heart of a woman while writing this

"Luffyyy!" you called, hands raised to the sides of your mouth as you glanced around. "Luffyyy! Where are you?!"

The swordsman bristled, pinching the bridge of his nose with an annoyed look.

"C'mon, Luffy, it's freezing out here! Hurry up!" he groaned, breath disappearing into the cool air.

Of all the nights your captain chose to disappear, it had to be the coldest of the week...

"For all we know, he can't even hear us," you sighed, tucking your hands in your pockets. "We might have more luck tomorrow... y'know, when it's not twenty below freezing."

"We already came all this way, we might as well bring him back," he grumbled, sharply, pressing forward with a taut look. "Christ, why is it so fuckin' cold..."

His tone came as barely a shock, your eyes unable to stave off their eyes roll.

'Someone's cranky...'

The crew hat been docked on a fall island for a little under a week, waiting for the log pose to set, but it was clear that the crew was already starting to go a little stir crazy.

Some more than others...

But, after a day of exploring and forest shenanigans, Luffy had yet to come back, and both you and Zoro were sent as his search party—the swordsman having been woken up from his pre-night watch nap.

Which would explain why he was acting so grouchy.

Or... grouchier than usual.

"C'mon, Zoro, we've been searching for an hour... How about we give it a rest?" you suggested, sincerely. "From what I can tell, this place is inhabited by nothing but deer, rabbits, and squirrels. I'm sure Luffy can survive the night."

The swordsman kept his gaze forward, not slowing down at all.

"It's dark, and this island is full of frozen lakes," he stated, matter-of-factly. "If that idiot manages to find some way to fall into one, he's done for."

Slightly, you deflated, looking off to the side.

You hadn't thought of that...

Cheeks puffed, you hugged your arms a little closer to your body, attempting to close out the chill of embarrassment.

You knew Zoro didn't mean anything by it—seeing as he talked like that to everyone—but you couldn't help but suddenly feel annoying, your excuses probably the last thing he wanted to hear after being dragged out of bed.

'Dammit, (y/n)... always whining about something...'

This was an insecurity that plagued you constantly.

When you first joined the Strawhats, it was blindingly clear that you were nowhere near the strongest of the bunch.

You weren't fast like Brook.

Or powerful like Luffy

Or even smart like Robin.

You were just... (y/n).

Average, human (y/n).

The only thing particularly unique about you was your skill with a needle and thread.

You were the ship's seamstress, and the clothes you created for the crew were all exquisitely crafted and perfectly tailored to their needs.

It didn't matter how much thread you had, how much fabric you were given, or even how bad the damage was.

You could easily turn it into something both stylish and practical, your craftsmanship that of a seasoned pro, someone who had been honing their trade for decades upon decades.

But you were only twenty.

And while the rest of the crew saw this incredible talent, and often sang your praises for it, you couldn't help but feel useless.

How the hell was sewing supposed to help you win a fight?

You couldn't feather stitch an enemy into submission.

Day in and day out, you trained, hoping to build your strength enough to run with the big dogs.

Even during the crew's two year break, you hadn't laid a finger on your sewing machine, focusing solely on your fighting prowess.

But when you came back, utterly elated by your newfound brawn, you were quick to realize that the monsters had gotten stronger, too.

And you were right back where you started.

"SHI—!"

Your little, mental pity party was interrupted as you tripped over a tree root, feet stuck and body flying forward toward the ground.

Luckily, a pair of strong arms caught you with a death grip, forcing a gasp out your lips as your hands shot up to cling to his broad shoulders, your face smashing into his muscular chest.

'I think I'll go die now...'

Deathly embarrassed, you quickly pulled your head up, stomach lurching and heart stuttering as you caught sight of his face.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, meekly, eyes slightly wide and completely entranced.

He had a hardened face, with dark eyes and a dark aura—not at all like the men that typically hit on you (not that you thought he was hitting on you now)—and surprisingly soft looking lips.

It was common knowledge that Zoro was anything but ugly, but just seeing his features up close...

He was such a pretty man.

"You good?" Zoro asked, raising a brow.

Clearing your throat, you nodded, allowing him to stand you back upright, and allowing yourself the chance to reign yourself back in.

Your "little" crush on the swordsman was something that plagued you from the moment you joined the crew... and if we're being honest, who could blame you?

Not only was he incredibly attractive, but he had morals; honor; and most importantly, chivalry.

Which, in your private opinion, far surpassed Sanji's.

But, it was beyond obvious that the man was completely out of your league, and you preferred keeping your feelings bottled up and saving yourself the embarrassment rather than getting rejected by a crewmate.

You'd seen the caliber of women that had come onto him in the past.

Powerful, female enemies...

High ranking Navy officials...

A fucking princess...

How could you hold a candle to that?

Though, little did you know, he thought the exact opposite.

While Zoro was a man who prided himself of self-restraint and respect, he couldn't help but let his eyes rake over you as your arms came up to cross over your chest.

Smooth, tanned skin accentuated under the complementary white of your cropped parka, your jeans just loose enough to run, and just tight enough to make your ass look fantastic.

Your lipgloss made your plump lips look so soft and inviting, and your eyes were so warm he felt like they heated him from the inside out.

And don't get him started on your sexy-ass voice—

"What did you trip over?" he quickly blurted out, glancing down at the ground to fight off the impure thoughts.

"It looks like a handle," you remarked, squatting down to take a closer look. "And I think there's a square outline in the ground."

Slowly, you looped your manicured fingers around the tree root, getting ready to pull.

"Careful..." Zoro warned, swords at the ready.

You nodded, and with a harsh tug, the door lifted, revealing a small compartment with a large jug inside.

Grabbing it by the neck, you pulled it out, dusting off its label to see what it was.

"It's sake... from over twenty years ago."

Instantly, a grin stretched across Zoro's face, the man gratefully taking the bottle as you handed it to him.

"Now we're talkin'," he smirked, popping the cork with his teeth and swiping the bits of dirt off the mouth. "Just what I needed."

"Are you sure you wanna drink that?" you asked, warily, as you stared at the bottle's contents. "I've never seen pink sake before..."

The man shrugged, his good eye taking a quick glance at it before he tossed back a large gulp, licking the remnants off his lips when he was finished.

"Eh, it's probably native to this island or somethin'," he waved off, turning around to continue the search. "It's strong... tastes like strawberries."

With a sigh, you stood to follow him, brows flattening as you watched him pound back another huge swig.

'I'll have Chopper check him out when we get back...'

It wasn't long after that you guys found Luffy.

He had been napping in a tree the whole time, and after you and Zoro gave him a serious scolding for worrying everyone, you dragged him back to the ship, you practically slumping against your door once you made it back into your work room.

Your day had been a whirlwind, to say the least, and your body wanted absolutely nothing more than to sprawl out on bed and catch some Zs.

But, even with the late, or rather, early hour—two to be exact—you didn't allow it.

First, you changed into some more comfortable clothes—some pajama shorts and a flimsy tank top—before straightening up the mess you had made in an attempt to make everyone new winter coats.

Once all that was done, you finally sat down at your desk, opening up your sketchbook and pulling out a pen to draw with.

'Alright, Nami said she wanted a new party dress...'

But before you could even draw the first line, someone frantically knocked on your door.

"For fuck's sake..." you sighed, throwing your head back in anguish.

You had half the mind to ignore it.

And, honestly, you did, returning to your book and pretending to be asleep.

But it wasn't long before the frantic rap turned into a distressed bang, completely disrupting your flow.

"Fine! I'm coming!" you caved, roughly pushing your chair back and storming toward the door.

If Kaido himself wasn't burning down the ship, heads were going to roll.

"Usopp, I swear to God, if this is some kind of jo—"

Swinging the door open, you never in a million years would have expected to see Roronoa Zoro on the other side.

Especially not looking like that.

"Shit," he panted, breathless, as he clutched his stomach, leaning against the door frame for support.

Of course it led him to you...

"Can I... mph! ...Can I come in?"

In front of you stood the first mate of Luffy's crew, his most trusted companion, his most loyal friend.

And the hands-down hottest man you had ever seen.

He was in nothing but some black sweats, his muscular arms and abs on perfect display.

His face was flushed, cheeks puffed with his hair tousled, and chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon.

Without thinking, you stepped to the side, allowing him in, now incredibly thankful that you'd tidied up beforehand.

Can't have the place looking like a pig sty...

Feeling something burning into the side of your head, you shut the door, turning around to see that he was staring at you intensely.

His eyes, once a beautiful steel gray, mimicking that of the swords he cherished so dearly, now resembled that of storm clouds, dark with something you couldn't place your finger on.

Yet something that worried you nonetheless.

"Are you okay?" you asked, raising a brow, not daring to touch him as he leaned against the wall, his legs having a slight tremble.

"No," he replied, his voice a half-whine, half-growl, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Something's... something's wrong... and... fuck! Everything hurts!"

"Hurts?" you parroted, now even more confused.

If he was in pain, why would he come to you?

You were just the seamstress, someone with little to no medical knowledge.

Why not go to Chopper?

Hell, why not go to Robin?

He let out another pained groan, sending a small, sharp pang to your heart.

'Questions are for later.'

Swiftly, you approached, only stopping when you were about a foot in front of him.

Leaning forward, your eyes scanned over his body, checking to see what you could deduce off looks alone.

"What hurts?"

Before he could answer, his eyes trailed down to your chest, the cut of your tank top and the angle you were leaning giving him a perfect view of your tits.

'Fuck me...'

Embarrassed, he avoided eye contact with you, his gaze flicking down to his crotch before zooming off to a far away window.

Still thoroughly confused, your eyes followed his path, only to find that he was hard, and it looked almost painfully so.

'Oh, shit...'

Your face burned, and you quickly snatched your eyes away from the sight.

"What happened?" you squeaked.

"I don't know," Zoro rasped, his entire body shuddering with arousal, heat pulsing through his body so intensely it hurt. "I woke up in my room an hour ago, and... well."

He gestured to his hard-on, the message clear.

"I tried to rub one off but... fuck... nothing worked. And then it got worse... and then—"

Red-faced, he glanced away from you, nostrils flaring.

Why couldn't shit like this happen to the damn cook?

"I...fuck...I smelled something...shit...something that just made it even worse, so I went to find it..." Zoro swallowed thickly, "and it lead me here."

Here?

HERE?

'HERE?!'

Why would, what was obviously some sort of lust sickness, lead him to you?

And why would your scent make it even worse?

Sure, you thought the man was stunningly handsome, and the mysterious, stone-cold air about him intrigued you to no end... but this was too much.

It had to be a dream.

Right?

Suddenly, Zoro crumpled to the floor, breathing heavily in short pants, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed.

"Zoro!" you gasped, worried, rushing over to him.

"Look... I don't know how or why this... whatever it is...led me to you by your fuckin' scent or somethin'," he shuddered, the room somehow filled with your damn smell.

The shampoo you used.

The body wash.

The perfume.

Hell, the goddamn candles.

Everything just set something off inside of him—something that wanted to ravish you until you couldn't speak, trapped under his body helpless and needy.

Just like he was for you.

God, you were his fucking crewmate.

"Look, I wouldn't ask this of you, (y/n), if there was any other choice..." he rasped, your name on his tongue sending another shiver down your spine.

'Get a hold of yourself...'

"But you're the only one that caught this thing's attention. I don't think think this'll go away normalLY!"

His word extended as pain thrummed through his body, starting at his pelvis and sparking up his back.

God, it hurt so fucking bad.

But as the body cramp passed, he looked up at you with glassy eyes.

"(y/n), please. I'll...fuck! ...I'll fuckin' get you something nice at the next island..." he shuddered again. "Just help me..."

You stared at him for a long moment, struggling to process what was happening.

This had to be some sort of freaky dream.

You'd probably passed out from exhaustion at your desk, and were now face first in your sketchbook.

But looking down at him, so helpless, trembling like an injured deer, it felt oddly real.

...

'Nahhh...'

With a heavy sigh, you moved closer, until you stood over him, his breathing becoming rapid and uneven.

You smelled so fucking good.

He just wanted to have you, to keep you.

To devour you.

You knelt in front of him, tilting your head and lifting him just enough, giving him a warm nod of approval.

That was all he needed.

In an instant, Zoro surged forward, his impossibly soft lips capturing yours in a breath-stealing kiss, granting him a faint pang of relief.

If this was a dream, then it was the most vivid one you'd ever hand.

His lips felt so real, pressing a searing kiss into yours, all the pain and arousal he had been feeling clear as day.

Smoothly, his nimble hand curled around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head.

"Fuck, you're so soft... You smell so good," he muttered into your mouth, his hands wandering all over your body.

You took in a shuddering breath when Zoro pulled away, giving you a small chance to regain your senses as his lips traveled down your jaw and to your neck, his teeth scraping your sensitive skin.

You sighed, the feeling alien.

Sure, you weren't a prude—you'd frenched a guy or two from your village in your teen years—but never had you done something so... intense.

"Zoro!" you gasped as he suddenly shoved you to the floor, his pupils dilated beyond relief.

"I'm givin' you an out right now," he warned, leaning down so close to you, you could count his eyelashes. "One word... and I'll leave.

God, his eyes were so pretty.

You could stare into them for hours, getting lost in their cloudy grey.

'Wait... what did he say?'

Zoro pressed his forehead against yours, his breath ghosting across your lips, "Last chance."

He almost sounded nervous.

He wasn't at all experienced in the world of sex.

And, yes, he was a pirate who often cared little about the feelings of others.

But he wasn't a monster.

Nothing further was going to happen without your say so.

With a shy smile, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

'Thank God.'

With that out the way, his hips pressed into yours, and you let out a shocked moan into his lips, feeling his hardened dick throb with each throb of his heart.

God, he felt big.

A small pit of nervousness settled in your stomach, but you pushed it away, following instinct by lifting your hips, helping Zoro get some relief from the pain as you carefully rubbed your pulsing core against him.

And it felt fantastic.

Zoro let out a shuddering sigh, pulling away from the kiss and looking down between you both, his hips already meeting yours in a rhythm.

"Fuck—" he groaned, almost flopping completely on top of you, his large arms enveloping your body as he ground against you.

"Fuck fuck fuck, dammit, you already feel too fuckin' good," he kissed your neck, scraping his teeth against your skin as he dry humped you. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

You let out mousy responses to his thanks, rutting back into his hips until it wasn't enough for him anymore.

He sat up abruptly, scooping you up as if you weighed nothing and standing up on wobbly legs, walking over to your bed and setting you down less than gently.

(Franky had installed a bed in your workshop after the fiftieth time you'd fallen asleep at your desk. Yes, he counted)

You bounced as you landed, almost squeaking as Zoro's rough hands explored your body once again, tugging off your sleep clothes in a fumbling, desperate manner.

You sat up to help him slide off your shirt, his eyes catching on the soft curves of your shoulders and waist, studying the way your stomach smoothed out into your hips and thighs, your skin so soft under his touch.

He leaned down, trailing his lips against your hips and stomach, his tongue licking up your waist until it reached your breast, his mouth latching onto your hardened nipple as you shivered at the pleasurable feeling.

He whispered your name against your skin like a prayer to the gods, and you took in a sudden, deep breath.

You'd never imagined your name sounding so sexy.

'This has to be a fucking dream, it has to be...'

Something like this would never actually happen to you—so you decided to just enjoy it.

Soon, your pants followed your shirt, landing on the floor behind Zoro.

He stood, staring down at you with dark eyes, his chest heaving, you almost matching him with how hard you were breathing.

Suddenly, he pulled your underwear off, exposing your soaked core to the freezing air of your workshop.

"Wait, Zoro, I've never—"

You couldn't even finish your sentence, his mouth already meeting your core, his tongue driving into you while his thumb circled your clit.

"Zoro!" you cried out, your hand reaching down to grab his soft hair, bucking your hips against his mouth.

It felt better than anything you could've ever imagined.

But just as quick as it came, his tongue left you, your whine not even making it halfway before your back was arching, all three of his fingers shoved into you.

The mix of pain and pleasure was delicious, and you almost instantly understood why some peple were addicted to it.

His mouth replaced his thumb on your clit, his diits unraveling you so easy.

You moaned his name like a broken record, the heat in your face reaching down your entire body, sighing as he pulled his fingers out.

You watched, intently, as Zoro tugged off his pants, his boxers going with his clothes, landing right next to yours.

He was gorgeous.

Years of hard, grueling training left him toned, every bit of him defined and carved by the gods.

He stroked his cock, and something churned in your stomah at the sight of it.

It as really big—if this was real, then you'd be sore beyond belief.

You swallowed, letting Zoro maneuver your body and legs as he lined himself up, rubbing the pink-tipped head of his dick against your folds.

He looked into your eyes, and smirked, before pushing in with one motion, his eyes snapping shut at the feeling of your hot, soft walls.

In an instant, his body cooled down, allowing a moment of relief before it came back twice as painful.

Meanwhile, you had breathed yourself through it quite well, the painful sting already beginning to disappear.

Suddenly, he let out a pained, lustful moan, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in.

It as simple at first, a novice pace, the sound of your wet cunt suctioning around him echoing throughout the room.

Your breath was suddenly stolen as Zoro pressed down into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as his hands pinned your wrists to the bed.

"Fuck fuck fuck," he growled.

He sounded like an animal in heat, his hips hammering into yours, the sound of your cunt being abused growing louder.

"Ah...ah...aah!" you panted, drool leaking down the side of your mouth as Zoro fucked you hard, his hips slapping against your thighs and ass, the sound only turning you on even more.

And it seemed to be doing the same to Zoro.

He bit your shoulder, moaning so loud you were sure the entire ship would've had complaints.

If this wasn't a dream, of course—which you were positive it was.

Your first orgasm came fast and hard, fireworks exploding in your vision as the coil wound in your gut snapped.

Zoro let out a tutered groan, frantically pulling his dick out and coming all over your stomach, the amount a concerning one.

But he was still unsatisfied.

With a grunt, he clutched his side, another cramp rushing through his body and forcing him to flip you over, pulling up your hips.

Your face burned as he ignored your sputtering words, sliding back into you, his breath hitching as you clenched down on him yet again.

Using his strength, he practically overtook you with his body, arms wrapped around your waist and hips pistoning as he hammered you like there was no tomorrow.

You couldn't even breath, each thrust knocking the wind out of you.

Fixing his position, Zoro shifted his hips ever so slightly, sitting up on his knees, forcing you to see stars.

Ecstasy flooded through your body as your front half went completely limp, panting moans pushing from your chest with each slap of Zoro's hips against your ass.

It wasn't long before your second orgasm came crashing through you—not as intense as the first but ust as hard.

Feeling himself right on the edge, he quickly pulled away, letting out a brathy whisperof your name as he pumped himself, releasing all over your back.

It continued like this for a while, the pain only disappearing after two more rounds.

And once it did, he carefully let go of your hips, them dropping like dead weight as all of your strength was completely sapped away.

Zoro was utterly exhausted, panting and aching everywhere, but he could only imagine how you felt.

He himself had never made it past first base with a woman before—he'd never had time for relationships, sexual or romantic—but he wasn't stupid.

He'd heard many a tale about the soreness that exists after sex for women.

And you had done him a serious solid.

So he forced himself to stand up, pulling on some pants before walking to the bathroom on tired legs and grabbing a few wash rags.

He got you cleaned up with the warm, damp ones, before using a cold one to cool the rest of your body.

But once that was done, he had no energy to do anything else, allowing himself to fall back against the pillows, breathing heavily.

Though, he didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

He couldn't just leave you after what he did...and if he was being honest, he didn't want to.

Watching your sleeping form, snoring softly and snuggled under the sheets, brought a certain warmness to his heart he had never felt before.

He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but the least he could do was hold you in his arms while he had the chance.

Maybe, one day, this could be real.

BONUS !!

The shouts of your captain snatched you from your death-like sleep, waking you with a groan as your eyes fluttered open, only to be blinded by the golden rays of morning light seeping through the window.

You let out a tired whine, covering your head with your pillow.

'I knew I should've got those curtains...'

Sitting up, sluggishly, you almost immediately regretted it when a jolt of pain shot through your core, the following soreness and aching rippling throughout the rest of your body.

"The hell?" you winced at the pulse between your legs.

It practically hurt to breathe.

And you had no idea why.

Confused, you lifted the blanket to check what was wrong, only to find that you were completely naked.

'Oh, shit... oh shit, oh shit, OH SHIT!'

You whipped your head around, looking for any sign of the handsome pirate, only to find him snoring soundly right next to you, one of his arms haphazardly strewn around your waist.

Going off his positioning, it looked like you two were tangled in the sheets, his arms holding you protectively for most of the night.

"Last night was real..." you muttered, wincing again, your voice nearly gone.

A raspy tone only acquired after screaming nearly all night long

'Oh, shit! Fuck! The others! I was so loud!'

Frantic, you didn't realize how close you were to the edge, your lips letting a yelp slip as you fell over.

Instantly, you hit the floor with a harsh thud, letting out a string of curses as another jolt of pain coursed through your legs and hips.

"Fuck..." Zoro groaned as he patted the space next to him, attempting to feel for you as he stirred awake from the noise. "Where the hell did she—oh, shit, (y/n)!"

Realizing you were on the ground, his eye shot wide, and he quickly scrambled to the edge of the bed, wrapping his arm around your waist and effortlessly hoisting you into his lap.

"Crap, (y/n), are you alright?! Are you hurt?!" he asked, frazzled, and still trying to wake up. "Shit, (y/n), I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for all this to happen. I shoulda listened to you and left the damn sake alone."

To say he felt ashamed was an understatement.

He was absolutely mortified.

The events of last night began coming back to him in flashes, the pit of guilt in his stomach sinking deeper with each one.

Where he dragged his tongue against your skin...

Every hickey and bite mark he left behind...

The feeling of your gummy walls squeezing against him...

That's not how he wanted your first time together to be.

He wanted it to be something slow and special, something a woman like you deserved.

But instead it was fast and in the spur of the moment, all because he was stupid enough to guzzle some mystery drink and fall under the effects of a lust spell.

"I—"

Raising your finger to his lips, you silenced him, eyes suddenly lidded as you leaned forward, forcing the two of you to lay back down, much to his confusion.

"Talk later," you mumbled, sleepily, nuzzling into his side as you pulled up the covers. "Sleep now."

Allowing your eyes to flutter shut, you let out a smooth, content sigh, slowly drifting back into slumber.

Incredulous, Zoro let out a small chuckle, but complied anyway, his arms snaking around your waist once more, pulling you further into him with a slight smirk.

Maybe he had that jug to thank after all...

[cyber333angel]

LUMBERJACK!LOGAN X FARMERSDAUGHTER!READER

the two of you would have met for the first time at your fathers house, logan introducing himself as a the new supplier for wood at your families barn. your dad was too busy to go out and buy wood so on a stroll through town he heard about a newcomer being good at exactly that. he shook your hand and he smiled at you, the most charming smile you have ever seen and you introduced yourself shyly as well. you were a little nervous for some reason, probably because you don’t see a lot of people living in the countryside especially handsome ones like this. you go off doing something else and after a couple more minutes of conversation your father calls you back to him and logan, telling you that you needed to show him around and tell him where to drop off the wood when it’s time for deliveries. smiling through your anxiety, you go up to him, “this way mr. howlett, uh this is the-“ and your cut off suddenly, “you can call me logan. no need for the formality.” and you nod, him dropping the professionalism made you feel a little more at ease. “oh alright logan, this way here is the horses stables.” chuckling at your insinuation of his name he watches you as you walk in front of him, white dress swaying side to side as you go farther throughout the land. the whole get-up looks gorgeous on you from head to toe, your little cowgirl hat that covers your braided plaits, the snug dress that hugs your curves and the brown cowboy shows to complete. from this first meeting he knew it was gonna be hard to work for your father, already looking at his daughter this way.

after a few weeks go by your aquatinted with logan, not exactly friends but you had small conversations everytime he came by. watching him as he loaded logs of wood into this shed looking handsome as ever working out like that, your little schoolgirl crush getting bigger at every sneaking glance you took. and one day your father had some business to attend to out of town leaving you alone, telling you to handle all deliveries and duties around the barn without him. so you spend all day taking over the work your dad usually does when you get a call, your dad telling you that logan would be coming in with a late delivery and to help him unload his truck. you were gonna be alone with logan, in your house that was empty, your mind was filled with thoughts but you quickly shooed them away. which was best because logan arrived at the gates thirty minutes later pulling into the driveway with a wave and the same charming smile as always, stepping out of the car in some red flannel and jeans. “hey kid, I see your stepping up to your old man’s jobs now huh?” he says chuckling and you smile walking to the back of his trunk, “yeah for today, ill leave it to you guys to carry pounds of wood every friday afternoon. splinters are not really my forte.” and logan grins, for the past couple of weeks of seeing glances of you during deliveries you weren’t doing manual labor like your father, mostly tending to the garden and taking care of the animals and he thought that naturalistic side of you was absolutely adorable.

you guys make usual small talk while hauling the logs of wood to the shed, dusting your hands. you get an idea to invite logan in after all this hard work, it’s only fair after all the heavy lifting and you both could use something to rejuvenate you. “um if your not busy after this would you want something to drink or eat before you hit the road?” you say, your anxiety creeping up a bit after doing something your not used to like inviting a someone into your home, one you have a crush on at that. logan nods rolling up his sleeves, “yeah thanks I would love a drink.” he says and you lead the way to the house, setting down at the kitchen. “umm we have some soda, water or juice? food wise we have leftovers from dinner yesterday, we could also make a sandwich or have the snacks in the pantry.” none of those really suite logans interest which makes him ask, “you got any beer?” and you think, remembering your dad keeps beer at the lowest part of the fridge, you grab one for him and you, going back and sitting at the island. “thanks kid.” making you smile with a quiet “no problem.” you watch logan crack open the beer with his teeth looking like he did this a million times before and you twist open the bottle with your hand, opting out on breaking your teeth.

the silence between you was very awkward as you trail your eyes at everything around you except logan, suddenly hearing him speak. “you don’t drink?” you look at him confused, his eyes pointing to the beer bottle that only has a sip taken from it. “no not really, it’s more for my dad. the taste is kind bitter to me, but i couldn’t let you drink alone!” you say with a giggle making logan smile as he takes another long swig at his drink. “well thanks for sticking around anyway. i also gotta ask how is it living on a barn miles away from civilization?” logan says poking fun at you once again, “it’s not that far, and it’s nice. very peaceful..although it’s too peaceful sometimes, there’s not many people to talk too out here other than when we go to sell crops.” he thinks for a moment, looking lost in thought as he comes up with a question that almost make you cough out loud. “so I take it that you don’t talk to many boys then huh?”the snarky question making you stare at him in awe, stuttering out an answer. “I have before if you must know, it didn’t go anywhere because he moved away.. but you already know I don’t talk to a lot of people which is s’kind of embarrassing, not having a relationship or a first kiss.. you probably have experienced all that already.” you say the relationship and kiss part quietly, not knowing why you said that in the first place thinking that sip of beer earlier had you out of sorts already.

the news of you not having any relationship was quite surprising to logan, you are such a pretty girl he thought guys would be lining up to date you. “it’s not embarrassing so don’t worry your head about that and sure I’ve had my share of..relationships but it’s nothing special as people make it out to be. if you want I can even help you with your little problem.” he hears himself get carried away with that last sentence, the damage being undoable as you try to think of he really said that. the older man that works for your father, really just said that? “really? you would kiss me?” of course he would kiss you, it’s taking a lot from him to not pounce on you right then and there. and logan just nods, scooting his chair back so you have space to sit. “yeah, come sit. it’s just a kiss.” he says patting at his lap with the beer bottle still in his hand, you hesitate but climb onto the seat making yourself comfortable on his legs. placing one of your arms around his neck for balance, waiting for his next move. “calm down bub your hearts practically beating out your chest.” he says chuckling and you just softly smile, embarrassed he can hear how nervous you are. “ready? don’t be so nervous, y’re okay, doing just fine already baby.” he says that as if that could make you any calmer, sliding his hand on your waist to make you come closer. you’re breathing so hard you could hear the breaths, closing your eyes trying to copy what the girls do in the romance movies you used to watch, and you feel your lips touch his. soft with a faint smell of beer, a very gentle kiss with his rough hand holding the side of your jaw.

you think to yourself how much more you crave from him, not only wanting his lips but it’s too late. he pulls away from the kiss to see you, looking around in your eyes to see if he wasn’t the only one that enjoyed it a little more than he should have. “lemme have a look at ya, how was it bub? hmm, was it good?” you chew the inside of your mouth staring at him, your chest heaving up and down as you try to come up with a way to ask for more. “it was great..” you say dropping your head to his chest, “would you be mad if I wanted t’do it again?” you say quietly, waiting for a response only hoping he wants it as bad as you, and he does, he wants even more than what your thinking of. your jaw is picked up by his hands as logan rests it on your cheek, looking at you so softly. “kid i could would never be mad at you, especially about something like that c’mere.” he says smiling into the kiss, this time going in deeper, sucking on your lips as if he wanted to eat you. beneath you, you feel something hard rising against your heat, pushing through logans jeans and up into your dress. you rub your thighs together trying to relief yourself from the throbbing sensation in your cunt from all this kissing but it doesn’t work, all your commotion alerting logan. “what happened down here bub?” he says rubbing his hand up and down your thighs, getting needier by the minute ypu snap and take logans hand, spreading your legs open and holding it in between your legs. “I need you to touch me lo..” you whine, a newfound nickname you gave him, probably resulting from how needy you were. this was all you needed to say to set him off, the position you were sat in, the pleading eyes and that goddamn sentence just now. he lifts you up wrapping your legs around his waist as he basically ravishes at your lips, growling at you through the kiss walking out the kitchen. “where’s your room?” he says looking like he’s on a mission and your bust out in giggles pointing him up the stairs to your room. you get you your bedroom and logan places you on the bed, you watch him as he takes off his shirt, still kissing you and traveling down all over your body. sucking and biting at your lips he spreads your legs in front of him, grabbing your underwear from underneath your dress and sliding it down your legs making you shiver. “I have to stretch you out a bit alright bub? come sit here.” he says motioning to you for the spot in between his legs, doing as your told you make yourself comfortable, not ever having done this before you let logan guide the way. he rests his hand on your waist, sitting behind you kissing your neck as his other hand travels down your pussy, his rough fingers coated in your slick just from the slight touch. “you really needed my help huh needy girl..” he says whispering, taking two fingers and spreading apart your folds looking at how wet you were. he pushes two digits in and you wince, his thick fingers already feeling so good you can’t even imagine how it would feel when he actually fucks you.

logan keeps thrusts his fingers in and out your cunt as you squirm around in his lap, stimulation sending you over the edge especially with the sweet whispers logan says in your ear. “atta girl, your swallowing up my fingers good bub..” praising you as you whine in his lap grabbing at his neck behind you, “s’enough now logan.. gon-gonna cum!” you say with a sob, you could feel how deep his fingers were stretching you, you could feel his thumb circling around your clit and you could only take so much. “good girl cum on my fingers..” and you do just that, coating his two digits with your mess, leaving a white ring at the base of his fingers. he has you out of breath, your head resting on his chest as you come down from the intensity. logan keeps you close to him, swaying a little back and forth letting you collect yourself, planting kisses on your neck as he slowly removes your white dress. taking the straps off and unzipping it, “up.” he says, wanting you to lift your arms and you do tiredly, you get up from his lap and lay down on your bed staring at logan. you watch as he unbuckles his pants, a bulge prodding and stretching the fabric of his boxers. “we’re gonna take it slow alright, if we go too fast you’ll get hurt so let me take care of you baby..” he’s says to you but you can barely hear, focused on his dick that is now out of his boxers standing tall, wondering if you were too confident and if you can even take all of him. he moves both your legs to be spread out on sides of his body, positioning himself in front of your cunt. “you ready?” logan asks you and you nod, earning a disapproving head shake from logan. “words bub, c’mon.” he says again tapping at your cheek, “yes m’ready logan!” you say, a certain huffiness in your tone just waiting for him to put it in. he pushes the tip of his cock in, already feeling a huge difference from his just his fingers, grunting above you. “fuck baby..so fuckin tight for me..” you can only sob in response, scratching at his back trying to brace yourself for taking in all his length. “hngh it’s s’really big lo!” you say, your body rocking against the bed as he thrust into you, slow strokes into your wet cunt making you feel every inch. “taking me so good sweet girl, so fuckin good..” he says kissing at your neck, being ever so gentle with you as he plows himself into your pussy, your messy cunt being heard all over the room. you feel a tremble in your tummy, the same feeling you got when you were stuffed with logans fingers just a few moments before. grasping at his back you look up at him with needy eyes, the older man locks eyes with you and it’s like he can read your mind. reaching his hand down to your achey cunt and rubbing your clit, he has you quivering under him with your legs shaking. “yeah you gonna cum for me baby hm?”

nodding at him suddenly you let out a gasp, feeling logan press down on your stomach as he’s fully deep inside you, the print of his dick showing in the pudge of your tummy. it makes you whine even more from all the pressure, closing your quivering legs in on his waist from the stimulation and the intense pressure as he snickers above you, “feels good huh bubba..” you cry when he hits that deep spot in you, your hands rushing to his abdomen trying to make him slow down. “w-wait logan please! that’s too much!” and he just smiles down at you, “move your hands, look your already taking me so well..your okay baby c’mon.” he says as you take your arms away hesitantly, the tears in your eyes rolling off your cheek onto the bed. “good girl, see?” taking one of his hands and grabbing the both of yours placing it at the top of your head making it harder for you to squirm, pounding into you as you begin to climax. “m’cumming logan..!” you slur out, unconsciously squeezing around logans length, “fuck me too baby.. give it to me c’mon.” he says wincing, loud squelches echoing in the room as you both cum together, hearing him growl above you feel him filling your hole, grunting as he makes sure you take all of it. you lay there on the bed catching your breath as you come down from your high, logan comes into your view holding your cheek in his hand rubbing it, “did so for me good pretty girl, you wanna get cleaned up?” and you nod your head tiredly, “mm yes please but can you do it for me lo..” you say, eyes already shutting down on you making logan smile, “sure kid.” he says picking you up, walking to the bathroom with you in his arms wondering how the hell is he gonna show up for work with your dad next week.

[mingtinys]

" i already have the world "

pairing : jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : unsure if i'm happy with this , but the writers block was BAD and so i ended up falling victim to the gamer!wonwoo trope

You truly wonder how Wonwoo still finds it in himself to wake up as early as he does to make his various schedules. Especially when it's already two in the morning yet he's still locked in on his computer screen, furiously clicking away. Meanwhile, you're walking a very thin line of consciousness.

If it weren't for the giant glowing monitor and the voices shouting through Wonwoo's headset, you probably would've lost your battle against sleep by now. And judging from the increasingly irritated shouts of Seungcheol and Jihoon for Mingyu to "go left," it sounds like Wonwoo's team is losing theirs.

"Your other left, idiot," You just barely make out Jihoon's exhausted words. "Wonwoo, please help him, you're closest."

"Yeah, I'm already on it. Someone cover me–" There's a pause, then a sad tune plays and you force your eyelids back open just wide enough to catch the giant "LOSE" written across the display. "Never mind, good game."

"It was most definitely not," Seungcheol complains.

"One more round?" Mingyu asks, even though this is their fifth "one more round."

"Yeah, just give me a minute and we can start," Wonwoo says before promptly muting his mic. He nudges you with his shoulder, earning a very unamused groan back in response.

"You can go to bed if you want," he chuckles.

"Alone?" You whine, which only makes him laugh more.

"You're right, what a ridiculous idea," he teases. "This is the last one for real this time, promise."

You're head falls to Wonwoo's shoulder with a sigh. He readjusts, allowing you to rest more comfortably. With your newfound pillow, sleep easily consumes you.

Your breathing slows down to a steady pace almost instantly and Wonwoo glances down with a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry I kept you up," he whispers, placing a feathery kiss on the top of your head.

He unmutes his mic. "Hey, sorry guys, I'm gonna log off for the night."

"What? Dude, we're just about to start. Please don't leave me with Seungcheol and Jihoon!" Mingyu urges. Wonwoo contemplates it, a match would only be around twenty minutes. But one more look at your sleeping form and that thought is gone as soon as it comes.

"Sorry, it's late, good luck though."

"Wait!" Mingyu tries again. "What if I buy you lunch tomorrow?"

"Goodnight, Mingyu."

"A coffee? Your favorite pastry from that bakery half an hour away? The world? What's it gonna take?"

"Mingyu, stop being dramatic and let the man go to bed." Seungcheol chastises.

Wonwoo secures his arm around your waist and pulls you against him when he notices your head slipping from his shoulder. An action that makes you snuggle further into his side in your unconscious state. Perhaps his heart has gone a little soft, but no offer could possibly amount to the moments like these he gets to spend with you.

So while lunch and a coffee is a tempting offer, it simply doesn't compare. "Besides," he says in a last goodbye into the mic. "I already have the world."

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi

[jerryandersonsdaughterinlaw]

daydreaming about starting a life out in the woods with domestic abby ᡣ𐭩

land. somewhere to put roots down. no watch shifts. no patrols. nothing we need to survive but each other. somewhere we can be soft and free, with room to breathe. trading one purpose for another. living off the land, still giving abby some sense of purpose and routine.

mountains, with trees so tall you can hear the wind move through them before it reaches you. private, surrounded by nature and wildlife, a view that stretches for miles. the worst part of our day is deciding what trail to hike.

a cabin nestled in pine trees, smoke curling from the chimney, under a starry sky. we’d build it ourselves. she’d do the heavy lifting, shouldering logs with practiced ease, tying beams into place while i hold the ladder steady. laser focused, sweating through her shirt, dirt on her arms, and look in her eye that says ‘i’m doing this for us.’

i’d chalk little heart shaped markings on the beams when abby isn’t looking. we’ll mark the wall with both our initials once it’s up. just scratched into the wood, tiny and permanent. i’d paint the front door. something warm. like amber. or rust. we’d have wide front steps, for when someone gets distracted looking at birds and trips like a golden retriever in combat boots.

she would insist on building us a porch, one that wraps around the house and has a swing. she’d build a greenhouse too, like her dad used to have so we could garden. herbs and vegetables, maybe strawberries. abby’d get really into composting.

there’d be big windows to let the light in, potted plants in the windowsill and small, smooth river stones abby had started collecting. books stacked on both sides of the bed. dog eared copies and little flowers pressed between the pages.

a clawfoot tub big enough for two, that we found at some salvage yard— partially collapsed, half swallowed by ivy. terrified it’d fall through the floor, but after we fix it up i’d take baths in it anyway. abby would sit on the floor and read to me while i soak.

we’d have cats, and a dog so big it looks like it could be part bear, probably named moose or something. drools on everything. we say we hate it but still sneak him food under the table.

a cozy reading corner with mismatched pillows. wind chimes in the doorway. a fire pit for stargazing nights, cool air and distant owl calls. hammocks tied between the trees, our favorite for afternoon naps. sun in our hair, the breeze rocking us to sleep. honey bees and butterflies fluttering through the wildflowers out back.

the kitchen would be the warmest place in the house, second only to our arms around each other. beautiful in the way worn pages of a favorite book are. open shelves lining the walls, uneven and mismatched, but sanded smooth by abby’s hands. a worn notebook full of meal notes, garden plans, and things we wanna try cooking next spring. a big wooden table we carved our initials into.

tons of small, weather worn ceramic mugs with hand painted designs for our coffee in the quiet mornings. lazy kisses as we listen to the forest come alive. the fireplace always flickering. our boots sit beside it in the evenings. sometimes we curl up with a book. sometimes abby sharpens her tools or sits behind me and brushes my hair.

maybe we’d find an old radio one day, that only gets static most of the time, but every now and then it catches a melody. old jazz, a scratchy folk song, and we’d dance barefoot on the wooden floor, laughing at how clumsy we are.

she’s the foundation; solid, protective, built to withstand anything. i’d be the warmth inside those walls, the glow that seeps into every crack, making even the coldest night feel safe.

abby’s always been willing to suffer, what she doesn’t always let herself imagine is joy. she deserves someone who shows her it’s okay to live a slower, intentional life and meets her in the middle. waking up and only needing to keep one person safe. choosing peace, instead of waiting for it to be stolen.

[polkadotjohnson]

Interview: MURDERBOT Star David Dastmalchian Likes His Humans Bloody and Complicated

[Warning: mention of Gurathin's past but no spoilers]

In the early episodes, Gurathin is set up as an antagonist of sorts to Murderbot, but most of what he says is true.

David Dastmalchian: What Gurathin said is a thousand percent true. The SecUnit is totally weird. It’s malfunctioning. It’s not safe. Something is off. I don’t mean to correct the interviewer, but… here’s what’s so wonderful about the world Martha Wells created: more than one thing can be true at the same time. Surprise!

That’s what it’s like to be a human being. In reality, oftentimes stories are distilled down — and storytellers distill down ideas, concepts, and characters — into the simplicity of a binary: this is this, and this is that. That’s not the world Martha Wells was interested in creating. It’s not the world she created, and it’s not the world that [creators] Chris and Paul Weitz brought to life with Murderbot.

So is Gurathin right? Yes. Is Gurathin his own worst enemy because he has such a difficult time trusting and putting faith in others and allowing himself to be vulnerable to others? A thousand percent. The masterwork of the way that they put this show together was creating this ensemble, these incredible actors in those scenes where you might see me or my approach to the character as antagonistic, I’m just trying to get in there and understand.

Gurathin is a great reflection for me on my life. I often go through the world just on the aggressiveness of the attack, looking for what’s wrong with things. Sometimes, when you think about Dr. Mensah’s (Noma Dumezweni) approach, like, “Let’s sit back, let’s talk about this,” as they say. Gurathin’s like, “Fuck that. We don’t need to talk about shit.”

I just watched episode seven. Without spoiling it, we learn about Gurathin’s complicated past. How much did this reveal influence your choices in the first few episodes? 

David Dastmalchian: I haven’t really gotten to talk about this in the press, but we’ve done a number of conversations now — you and I — and I can tell you, showing up to work that day, for that scene that I know you’re referring to, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do as an actor. I was coming up on, at that point, my 22nd year in a journey of mental health and sobriety. I was going to be performing dialogue that was so incredibly written and that was so incredibly personal in a way nobody even realized how personal it was.

And yeah, I was able to look into the eyes of Tattiawna, Akshay, Sabrina, Tamara, and ultimately Noma, and what an incredible director, Roseanne [Liang], we had that day. She just gave us this space to feel safe and go there.

But it was intense and powerful, man. I watch the show with people I love every week. Tomorrow night we’re gathering with Bryan Fuller and my little group of friends to watch the show, but when that episode comes in particular, I don’t know if I want to show up that night. That’s going to be a hard one. But it’s beautiful. It’s not a bad thing. It’s a beautiful thing. I’m grateful that the universe provided such an experience for me and that Paul and Chris created that.

After that scene, did it feel cathartic? What went through your mind?

David Dastmalchian: I fell into my mind — I probably didn’t really do this, but in my mind — I collapsed in the arms of my castmates. They just lifted me up so much that day, as did the director, writer, and showrunner. Every day on that show, everyone was so there for you and made you feel safe and supported. But that was a big one.

I remember going home and sitting there and doing an online support group that I logged into that night, and I felt proud. I felt like, wow — I was able to be professional, show up, do the work that I was called upon to do while navigating stuff that felt personal and emotional. I like to think it didn’t detract in any way from the work, maybe even enhanced it. But whatever came of it, I do think there’s — even if it’s a micro drop of extra something in there — how could there not be, considering how personal that story was? Gurathin was speaking for David at that moment.

Something always apparent in speaking with you is you deeply feel what a character feels. Have you always had this level of sensitivity to the characters you play? 

David Dastmalchian: It's really important for me to be aware of myself and aware of how much the work or the character is affecting me personally, and that can transcend just the themes or the emotionality of the character. Sometimes it's the long hours, sometimes it's the demands of repetitively getting to emotional states of being. I have an incredible network of support in friends, family, sobriety, and mental health that I lean on so that I don't have to — I’ve just gone on and told you how much I leaned on my cast, but in the way that I think is healthy, in the way that we can creatively be there together. 

While at the same time, it's important for me to invest the time and energy into taking care of myself and being aware, going, “Oh my God, wow, this role is bringing stuff up for me.” There's stuff physically as you progress through this season —the threat of danger, real danger, and violence happens in really intense ways. So, there are things that my body and my voice and my person got the opportunity to experience. Even though I know it's all make-believe — you walk away at the end of the day — your body didn’t know that that didn't really happen. So, it’s just an evolving toolkit of ways of checking in with myself and staying healthy.

[limarkova]

Experimental Obsession

Part 11

Prev

Everyone was waiting anxiously in Jason's apartment for word on how (Name) was doing. Steph knew the PTSD was going to be bad from the little she learned. But total disassociation over the mere thought of the experiments. It was worse than anything they could have expected, especially since she was so much younger than Steph first thought.

Yes, she had heard stories and had seen (Name) in passing. That didn't change her mental perception of the girl. The stories made her sound older. At passing glance at what she was doing, taking notes and doing science experiments or lectures. Those were older kid activities, not seven- or eight-year-old activities. To think that no one was looking out for at the age. It made Steph feel guilty for not noticing. Why had she been so nervous? Cause she was previously a Robin and a Batgirl.

Shaking her head, Steph forced herself to continue reviewing the files. Well Barbara had decoded and read one of the files, there were dozens. So, they decided to start reviewing them while they waited. She sat reading through boring medical terminology she barely caught on to and horrifying descriptions of violence. (Name) was really just eight to nine going through this.

Steph paused as she began a new file. This one was dated two days before the escape. Her mind flashed back to her interrogation of Matthew Jenkins. If her math was right this would be the test that made Henry Duncan tap out. The one that made her chest look like a deflate balloon. Steph began to read the report when Tim spoke up.

"I have something."

"So, do I. I think." Steph held up her tablet gesturing to it, "You go first Tim. I still have to read through this."

"Okay so it would appear we've all misunderstood (Name)'s meta-abilities." Tim placed his tablet on the coffee table for anyone who wanted to look at it, "She's not a super healer. She produces a chemical in her blood stream that causes the effects of miraculous healing and potentially immortality."

"What? That should be impossible, there's no chemical capable of that. Even the Lazarus Pit has a limit" Damian snapped, setting his tablet aside.

"You're right it's technically not a chemical." Tim shrugged before looking towards the door to Jason's bedroom. (Name) and Jason were in there, as Jason attempted to calm her down. "It's a liquid metal, but it's still in her blood stream."

"You don't mean..." Dick started looking up from his tablet. Tim nodded causing Dick to swear, "Dionesium. What are the chances The Court of Owls is involved."

"It's unclear right now but we may need to explore that angle. Though the Court probably would have used Electrum. She, however, produces pure Dionesium in her bloodstream. Not Electrum." Tim looked down at his tablet again as Bruce picked it up. "At least that's my theory currently. They wrote it down as Concentrated Lazarus Pit Water they had found in a cave system somewhere beneath Gotham."

"I thought I destroyed the lake of Dionesium under Gotham after the Joker Virus incident?" Bruce looked up from the file. He gave Tim a quizzical look.

"Either it wasn't completely destroyed, or there's another one." Tim shrugged again, "Whatever the case they don't know what they found. That or I'm completely off base and were missing a file of how they treated actually Lazarus Pit Water to 'concentrate' it. However, they still got the Chemical they injected her with from a cave in Gotham. We're going to have to find that."

Bruce sighed, rubbing his temple. Steph focused back on her file and began to skim it for details, "On a different note. I found the log for the final experiment they perform before (Name) escape. The one that made Henry Duncan storm off."

"Really? What did they do?" Barbara asked. Throughout this whole ordeal everyone had shared horrifying revelations of what the experiments had done. Drowning, Burning, Shooting, Stabbing, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Duke even found a file where it shows she no longer displayed any brain activity when hurt. All that to lead up to the final experiment in Steph's hands.

Steph began to read through the file. She paused in confusion reading through the beginning, "Well they started by sedating her and preparing her for surgery?"

"Surgery?" Cass asked looking towards the tablet in Steph's hands.

"Yeah. Apparently, the anesthesia didn't work properly so she was conscious throughout the whole ordeal." Steph continued to read through the file. Every word felt like falling further and further down a ravine with no clue where the end was. She could feel the color draining from her face as pieces started to click into place. Pressing on her chest, deflated balloon, something growing. No not growing, re-growing. Steph's voice was barely above a whisper, "Oh dear god."

She was ten. She was child and they did that to her, all well she was awake. Steph felt like she going to be sick. "Oh, dear god, she was awake through that. Shit she probably remembers it too."

Steph felt like vomiting. That are running into the room with (Name) and Jason to hug the girl.

"Stephanie!" Dick grabbed ahold of her. It shocked her enough to drop the tablet. It slid across the floor landing by the coffee table. "What did they do?"

"We've been looking for our suscepts in the wrong place. They're not Meta Traffickers." Steph looked towards where (Name) was. She was ten and they didn't even know she was in trouble. "They're Organ Traffickers, who just made an endless supply."

Dick let go of Steph. He blinked a few times before glancing at the door. Everyone looked towards the door. The room had gone deathly silent as pieces began to slide into place. It was Bruce who spoke first, "We change plans. Now."

Steph looked towards him to see a dark look she had never seen on Bruce's face before. Soon it was as if dark steel had crossed everyone's face. They would not let (Name) down again.

When you started to come back to reality, you could feel someone holding you and humming. It was a familiar tune; one you remember in blur dreams about the past. A goofy little song about axolotls and penguins. The person singing seemed to remember the lyric more clearly than you. Slowly you began to join in the silly song, holding just the melody without the words.

A blanket had been wrapped around you and someone's arm pressed you against their chest. The humming mixed with the steady beating of their heart acting like a lifeline to the present. There was a shout in the next room that had you jerking up. The person allowed you to move but was soon hushing you back towards their chest. It was so gentle you simply allowed the motion to happen.

"How you feeling, angel?" You looked up to see that you were wrapped in Jason's arms. Blinking up at him, you shook your head before leaning back down to listen to his heartbeat. He took a deep breath. Soon he was slowly stroking your head. You hummed before burying your face in his chest.

This was okay. You could pretend you were safe for right now. Just like the blurred memories of when you were a toddler. Leaning into Jason's arms after your reoccurring nightmare. He had changed physically since them. Taller, buffer, but the comfort factor remained the same. "Do you want me to tell you a story, like old times?"

"I don't remember those times very well." You murmured gripping onto his shirt. "I know you taught me to read."

"Yeah, I did." Jason mumbled. You didn't look up at his face, but you could tell he was sad. There was something haunted in his voice, "Your favorite storybook wasn't even a story. It was a meet the planets picture book."

"Each of the planets had a different voice." The laugh that bubbled out of you was small. A hazy memory of Jason as a teenager with voice cracks reading in different voices danced in your head.

Jason laughed too, "Later when we played you insisted on being a space exploring scientist princess and I was your space pilot knight."

"Why did we stop playing?" The atmosphere shifted but didn't entirely break. Jason shifted the blanket, so you were wrapped up just a little tighter.

Once satisfied he asked one question. "How about a story okay?" You nodded and Jason began.

"Once upon a time in a kingdom not too far away lived a family of brave knights. Each one was skilled trained personally by the King, a skilled knight in his own right. One day a Princess was born and the King assigned one of his closest knights to protect the young girl. This made the two grow very close, acting as brother and sister despite having no blood ties.

When the Princess was two, a threat arose. A Clown Prince threatened the kingdom and more specifically the Knight's mother. The Knight having believed his mother was dead, rushed to her aid, ignoring the King's warnings. He ended up being captured by the Clown Prince. Before the King could rescue him, the Knight was killed.

Yet it the story didn't end there. Two years later a skilled Necromancer and his daughter found the body of the Knight. Together the two raised him from the dead but when he came back, he was no longer a knight. His body no longer felt right, and he quickly discovered he had been made into a monster. The Necromancer had showed him the kingdom. The now reborn Monster had been replaced by someone else as the King's Closest Knight and Princess once adore was left alone with no one. The Monster couldn't tell if she was left alone for asking questions or for not accepting the new knight.

In a fit of rage, the Monster attacked the King and his Knights. The fighting lasted months before finally the Monster's rage subsided. In those battles however the Monster did many horrible things, still the family accepted him. Even with the acceptance the Monster was scared to approach the Princess. If couldn't bring himself to accept the possibility of accidently hurting her. So, he stayed away for years, watching from the shadows as she grew to be a brilliant and kind scholar. When he finally had the courage to explain to her what had happened all those years ago..."

Jason's voice caught in his throat as he tried to finish the story. You had pressed your face against his chest. Softly you whispered, "She disappeared."

"(Name)." Jason took a deep breath. "I know that you probably want revenge or to make sure what happened to you doesn't happen to anyone else."

Your breath caught in your chest when Jason said those words. Fear that he knew what you were planning shot through you. He continued, "But please promise me you won't become a vigilant. I swear I'll get your revenge for you and make sure whatever happen to you doesn't happen again. Just please don't become one of us."

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. One of your hands was under the blanket where he couldn't see it. You crossed your fingers slowly, "I promise."

The laboratory was quiet. Everyone involved had gone home for the day with the procedures completed. Isabella walked down the faux-hospital halls towards the office where her father worked. With Subject Origin lose somewhere in Gotham, the plan had changed. Subjects Alpha through Hotel were no longer allowed to leave during their recover phase. Just in case Batman got involved, he couldn't follow the subjects to the new location.

She knocked on the door to her father's office before slipping inside. The older man was sitting at his desk scribbling away on his journal. Isabella glared at the book, at least the notes in there were no longer about her. "All surgeries have been completed. We're monitoring the recipients now for any signs of rejection."

Her father hummed. There was long pause in which the only sounds that could be heard was the scratching of her father's pen. Finally, he sent the pen down looked at her, "Isabella what are the two results we are expecting?"

"Either all the recipient's bodies will accept the new organ, or they will all rejected." Isabella looked towards the ground. She intentionally didn't learn any of the kid's names. It made things easier for her; they were letters not children.

"Do you know why those are the two results?"

"No, I don't."

"Because" Her father stood walking towards the framed letter that revoked his medical license. Isabella didn't understand why he framed that of all things. "The experiments changed (Name)'s organs so they longer match any humans. She is a being that is truly unique now."

"Whose (Name)?" Isabella tilted her head to the side.

"Subject Origin, of course. Her name is (Name) Wayne." Isabella tried not to throw up. Wayne. Her mind flashed back to high school, to one of her friends that ended up dropping out to run Wayne Enterprises. It was easier to not know the names of her father's victims, because it made so she didn't know which of her friends was being reflected back to her.

Isabella began to silently pray Tim would never know what her father had done.

Prev

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[antlerqueensab]

t.m. relationship timeline

1.2k words

pre-crash - ᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°•☁︎

he most likely would meet you/notice you at a yellowjackets game that his dad dragged him and javi to. and travis, being the stubborn asshole he was, kept his headphones on the entire game.

he'd also for sure act like he wasn't watching you, 'the only thing on the field worth watching' to his mind. travis couldn't give a fuck less about soccer if we're being honest, and if he has to come to another game - better believe he's sulking in the stands with his arms crossed and walkman in his lap while strictly watching you.

then, about a month later, when semesters switched for school, travis found himself sitting directly next to you. really, he blamed it on teachers and their unnecessary need to have a seating chart. but he also couldn't help but silently thank his stupid english teacher when he just kept looking and looking at you.

it probably took him at least a week to talk to you. we all know that he has absolutely no experience with girls, plus all the weird '90s mindset of how guys are supposed to be. but when he does start talking and, to his surprise, you reply and actually seem engaged with the conversation, it's like a switch in his mind flips and he's immediately crushing on you.

after getting together, though, travis would most definitely complain every single time that you talked about the team, even though he has a grin on his face and he's letting you talk all you want. he'd know all about the plays that you've been practicing during the later practices after school, and who's mad at who on the team.

when boarding the plane - since he didn't even want to go on the trip in general - travis would flat out refuse to sit next to his dad and javi (even though they both offered), choosing to find an empty row and drag you with him to sit beside you. he'd ask you if you wanted to borrow his headphones or if you wanted him to keep them off for the flight. you chose the easier option and let him keep the headphones on and let him fall asleep on your shoulder.

during the wilderness - 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

season one and two would probably be the same as the show; travis sticking with his fuckass attitude, staying by your side the entire time - mainly because he does not want to interact with the rest of the girls, and him and natalie still becoming the hunters.

doomcoming would've been completely different, therefore the SA he experienced (and obviously sleeping with jackie) wouldn't be a thing and he'd instead spend it with you joking about how "prom sucked this year" and "you wear that thing pretty good." thank you akilah, by the way, for the twig and moss crown. as well as taking a walk in the woods tripping out until you both ended up accidentally falling asleep leaning against a log in a clearing.

during when javi was missing, though, and a little because of his dad's death, he'd cry almost every night and use his body to just cover yours, clinging to you like he's afraid you'll be gone too if his hands loosen just barely - and he will absolutely not take that chance of losing the only person left in his life he cares about. so, you might end up with marks on your sides or arms the next day, a bit of soreness, and definitely tear-stained shirts. but he refuses to acknowledge any of his actions in the morning.

when it gets to the point of season three, travis wouldn't really be as quiet and spacey because he had you stuck by him the entire time. you and he for sure had a small make-shift funeral for javi, so travis got at least a little bit of closure. making the hut a bit away from the rest of the camp to put space between you two and them - especially after having to resort to cannibalism just to stay alive. he'd be the one to cover the makeshift walls with the drawings javi made, as well as keeping the small wolf he carved next to the hammock.

travis would actually enjoy seeing you participate in the games with the girls, sometimes helping you win tag or whatever the game is, even though he's not playing or on either of the teams. it would remind him of when he first saw you on the soccer field pre-crash, and that sorta gave him some semblance of "control" of where life had ended up for you both.

when lottie starts giving him the shrooms, though, he'd get back to the hut exhausted and just collapse onto you, mumbling nonsense about what had happened that time and that he had no idea what to do since he couldn't bring himself to tell lottie to knock it off. which, in turn, gave you the idea of telling lottie that akilah was chosen by the wilderness and travis was being let go from the role lottie placed upon him.

when it actually worked, though, he'd be so thankful and spend at least a week doing whatever you asked as a thanks for you getting him out of doing the shrooms. travis would also most definitely make jokes about you being a prophet or something because your "hunch" about akilah being chosen was helping lottie, too.

post-rescue - ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

travis would probably ask if he could stay over with you and your family a lot. he hates how quiet and lifeless his house is now with his dad and javi gone, and his mom always tells him to do whatever he feels the need to. which, you had turned into his home ever since the first few months of being stuck, so he felt safe and comforted with you.

you were the one to suggest a farm originally, after thinking back to mortimer in the wilderness and how travis looked like he felt useful when he held him, you just had to suggest something to help you both feel connected to the wilderness since you were so used to being out there - even if it was the most mundane way you could. it was still enough to let him feel connected to javi.

neither of you really kept in contact with the other survivors, except maybe the occasional call to misty or natalie, rarely lottie. van and taissa became a 'if there's an occasion, we'll contact or respond.' shauna and melissa became an immediate decline of the call or a burn of whatever they sent in the mail.

you both most likely got married in your twenties, probably about 24 or 25. it wasn't that you needed to figure anything out, because with everything you two went through together in the wilderness, travis would really lose himself completely if he didn't end up with you somehow. it was more of a 'we need to get everything in our lives fully settled and comfortable before we plan anything else' and it was really just a courthouse wedding anyway. lottie was your witness. you both didn't feel the need to have some big celebration and instead made your own in the backyard of the farmhouse.