#which will hopefully help clear my skin more

[rotarywires]

happy to report that i culled some makeup products down (i’m now down to 6 eyeshadow palettes instead of like. 13) and i have cut my skincare products down to the absolute bare bones minimum i’ll need for combination skin

[fastcardotmp3]

I want to read your Chrissy/Nancy fic but I’ve been kind of wary because it’s tagged for ed mentions (understandable, since it’s Chrissy) and typically that’s a big no for me, but I’m wondering how strong of a theme is it? Does it get graphic? Is it easy to skim the parts that mention it without missing too much of the story?

Thanks

that's a totally reasonable wariness to have dude and I'm glad you asked.

I would say it's a present but not overwhelming theme in the sense that both girls are getting pretty thoroughly Character Studied, but it's mostly a predetermined fact of her past that's rarely mentioned for more than a couple sentences at a time. It does however get implications/ references scattered throughout.

it never gets more graphic than it does on the show (and only that graphic once in a direct reference to that scene for about a sentence or 2) and more serves as a point of comparison for how Chrissy has changed not just physically (specifically re: vampire traits) but how her thought processes have changed too, which includes a shedding of shame in this regard.

Nobody is intentionally engaging in disordered eating behaviors in the fic outside of brief ruminations on the past, but that being said, the new sorts of hunger that she experiences and the way it's different from being hungry as a human are discussed here and there as she and Nancy both try and figure out what exactly it is she needs to feel at full strength. The first couple of parts have more of an emphasis on this than the rest because she's learning a brand new physiology, but once they know what she needs, she gets it.

The helpful thing about this fic's chapters being their own individual fics on ao3 also means there are tags for each one, so if it's not in the tags on a specific "part" you can be sure it's not in there at all (mostly the Nancy POVs which is about half of them)

Ultimately, Chrissy's arc is about leaving behind a lot of the boxes she (and others) put her into while she was still alive and allowing herself a freedom in death that she's never known before, so any mentions of past ED end up framed within that eventually, but I also completely understand if any of the above mentioned is still too heavy a theme and appreciate you asking for clarification💜

[jamminvroomvroom]

🎀 anon

congrats on 5k

hey bb ! i’ve been brainrotting on insatiable lando and his gf for weeks now omg

for a cute lil fic i was thinking of reader being max f’s sister and lando and her being secretly together. they’re all on vacation together and lando and reader are super insanely insatiable and the story on how they act on vacay 😈😈

anywhere she wants.

ln x fem fewtrell!reader

in which no one approves of your relationship, so lando shows them just how good he is to you…

oh my sweet 🎀 anon, i’m sorry this took so long! slowly getting back into the groove of writing, starting with this little piece! i went a bit off script but the vibes are hopefully similar to the request! huge thanks to angel bby @fairene for helping me out!enjoy! lemme know what you think!! big hugs and lots of love 💖

songs to set the mood: my love mine all mine by mitski, i know places by taylor swift, she will be loved by maroon 5, summertime sadness by lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, fluff, angst, a bit of exhibitionism kinda, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, established relationship, max being a dick, angry/feral!lando, girlboss!reader, hints of ownership kink? for like. a second, lando being wise (not canon lmao), swearing

4.2k words

fairy lights drench the pool with light, a glow dancing over the still surface in ripples. you smile, hum with content as the warm evening air washes over your skin, leaning over the balcony to take in the sight of where you’ll be staying.

footsteps sound from behind you, the master bedroom, and you quickly feel two warm arms wrap around your waist, tan and thick. you lean into his touch, chest warming from the kisses peppered over your jugular.

“you like it?” lando breathes, nosing over your earlobe.

“it’s beautiful.” you whisper, turning your head to nuzzle against him. he seizes the opportunity to seal his lips over yours, kissing you soft and deep. you spin in his arms, clutching at his shirt to hold him close, the kiss intensifying, changing pace. just as he licks into your mouth, a sigh, so loud that it breaks the sound barrier, tears you both apart.

“so is that all you two do now, suck each others faces?” max rolls his eyes, his disapproval of your relationship one of the worlds worst kept secrets.

“yes, max. that’s all we do.” you mock, biting back at your older brother.

because of course you’re dating your brothers best friend. of course you are. life is funny like that.

lando stays silent, but you feel his hand on your waist tightening. max swallows hard.

“we ordered pizza, if you guys wanna come down.” max bulldozes through the awkwardness, offering an olive branch, and leaves.

“he is such a knob.” you mutter, shaking your head. lando strokes tentatively over your cheek, soothing you.

“he’s your big brother, baby. he’ll get over this.” lando coos reassuringly, and you choose the easy path of believing him.

you and max occupy opposite ends of the excessively large dining table when you join the rest of your friends.

the tension has been palpable between you and max since he caught you sneaking out of lando’s london flat one morning, the reason for your visit quite clear. you’d stood with your ear to the door when he’d stormed past you and entered the apartment, making you more than aware that your presence was unwanted when he quickly slammed the door behind him.

you’d endured the one-sided screaming match that followed, the accusations that lando must be playing with your feelings, that it would never work out, that it wasn’t fair at how exposed you’d be to the cruelty of his fan base, that he couldn’t believe how low lando would stoop to date his little fucking sister.

you wanted to understand, and really, you tried!but max hadn’t made it easy, constantly pushing your buttons and making needless digs at the both of you. lando convinced you that this holiday during the summer break would be healing; max would get to see how much lando cared for you, and everyone got much needed time to relax. so, with your friend group in tow, the three of you jetted off to the tiny spanish island.

surely, everything would be fine.

-

everything was not, in fact, fine.

you can smell it in the air, the tension building thick and heavy. everyone thought they were slick, waiting for lando to leave so they could corner you, and corner you, they did.

lando had kissed you sweetly by the sliding doors to the garden, popping his airpods in and shouting a quick: going on a run! to the rest of your holiday party. you’d sauntered carelessly to a lounger, bikini clad, sprawling out across the chair to tan and watch the who can do the best canon ball into the pool competition that has become a long running championship. but you can feel stares, feel the walls closing in, and you push your sunglasses up to rest over your hairline.

max and pietra are locked in on you, as are the rest of your friends.

“what?” you feel hot, embarrassed all of the sudden for no reason at all.

“so, it’s going well, then… with lando?” one of your girlfriends starts, but it sounds extra high pitched, awkward. your stomach sinks as you realise the pathetically choreographed dance about to take place.

“for fuck sake.” you mutter.

“she’s just asking!” max shoots back, as if he’s offended, as if you can’t see right through him.

“it’s going great.” you state, blunt as ever whenever your relationship is questioned.

“we just wanna make sure that this is right for you.” pietra says sympathetically, her eyes soft. you’ve known her long enough to know that even though her dickhead boyfriend is being callous, she genuinely cares.

“lando is right for me, you are all so full of shit! i don’t get what it is that you’re seeing.” you try and keep your voice level, even as your blood pressure begins to rise menacingly.

“it’s not so much what we see between you, it’s more about what he was like before.” tom jumps in.

ah, yes. the infamous hoe phase.

“because no one here ever fucked around.” you glare pointedly at your brother. he lowers his gaze.

“are we sure this isn’t just a… a fling?” pietra tries again, staying soft. her words still sting.

“yeah, i know him better than you do, and i-“ max’s voice cuts you like a thousand shards of glass and you body ignites with rage.

he knows him better? what does he know?

does he know that lando can’t sleep without telling you that he loves you? does he know that lando cried into you arms after his miami win? does he know that lando feels itchy if he doesn’t tell you that you’re beautiful at least eleven times an hour? does he know that you’re so crazy about his gorgeous, loving, infuriating best friend that you’re prepared to tell your brother where to go and to never come back?

“shut the fuck up, max. you know nothing! nothing about our relationship because you never gave us a chance. you don’t see how much i love him because every time you see us together, you’re hellbent on destroying our happiness.” you point angrily, standing from your chair. before you turn to the house, you leave them all with a parting message.

“and all of you will do very well to remember who paid to bring your bitter arses here. remember whose fucking house you’re in.” you lecture, watching as they all turn sheepish as they realise how ungrateful they sound.

“i don’t think i have anything to add.” you hear from behind you.

you jump, turning to see lando leaning against the door.

“shit, baby.” you breathe, rushing towards him, your skin crawling as you wonder how much he’s heard.

“forgot my phone.” he shrugs, smiling warmly at you. only at you. “now unless anyone has anything to add, i’m gonna take my very, very serious girlfriend upstairs.” he grins smugly.

the silence is so deafening that you couldn’t of even heard a pin drop if you’d tried.

you hold up your middle finger as he leads you away.

your bedroom door slams so hard that they must hear it outside. he’s tense, enraged at the disrespect that you’d endured, but he’s soft with you, pulling you into his rigid body. he relaxes into you, walking you further into the room.

“how much did you hear?” you whisper, clinging to him.

“oh, you know, just all of it.” he laughs bitterly, fingers sinking into your hips.

“they’re assholes.” you growl, threading your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes it.

“there is one good thing about it though.” lando hums, still guiding you deeper into the room. your back thuds softly against the sliding glass door, the one that leads to your balcony.

“what?” you breathe, suddenly extremely aware of his lower body.

“you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad.” he smirks.

turns out, he didn’t steal you away to mope.

his lips crash against yours fiercely, teeth and tongue getting in on the action as he moves his mouth feverishly against your own. your neck tilts back, allowing him to swallow you whole, like his life depends on the feeling of you pressed against him. he trails kisses over your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, two fingers grazing your ribcage. he snaps the tie of your bikini against your skin, stone cold aware of the lack of clothing adorning your body and he hums low from the back of his throat.

“they need to learn that you’re mine, that you’re always gonna be mine.” lando grunts, pulling away to slide the door open. he pushes you out onto the balcony, the one that overlooks the very pool that your friends and your brother are licking their wounds around.

“lando…” you gasp, weary of his overly adventurous attitude.

“maybe this will make them realise just how crazy you make me.” lando looks possessed, moving towards you like a wild animal engulfing its prey.

he cages you in against the wall, pulling one leg over his hip to spread you open, his fingers travelling to the flimsy tie of your bikini bottoms. you’re already soaked, embarrassingly so, really, but there’s just something about those gorgeous, haunted eyes. lando let’s the bottoms fall to the floor, kicking them away impatiently as he quickly finds home between your legs.

“think anyone else can get you this wet?” lando asks, eyes rolling back as he finds your slick folds. your jaw drops, already boneless at the feel of him. “answer me, baby. nice ‘n loud for me.” he demands.

“no, lan.” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. he’s teasing, stroking lightly over your folds and your sensitive bud.

“and can anyone else make you feel this good? i mean, baby, i’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking.” lando’s teeth catch his bottom lip, his eyes glazing over as he watches you.

“lando, please.” you mutter, grinding down on his hand. you need more of him. he grins, flashing his teeth with pride as he renders you desperate.

“my pretty girl fucking my hand, god, you’re so perfect.” lando praises, earning a moan from your kiss-swollen lips. “bet they can hear how soaked you are, baby.”

you flush red, shame and embarrassment blurring the pleasure and you press a tense hand to your mouth, trying to silence the waterfall of whines.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he warns, sliding his fingers deep into your pussy. he gives you no time to adjust, curling them upwards and rocking his whole hand against you. his palm bumps against your clit and you writhe against the wall.

there’s no point covering your mouth, there is no hiding what’s happening. you let him have you how he wants you, a consolation for him having to hear his friends badmouth him, and he takes every liberty, mouthing at your covered tits, lapping over your peaked nipples. you cry out, weak as he manipulates your body closer to an orgasm, your wetness trickling down his wrist.

“so good to me, baby, only you, lando.” you choke, your voice echoing between the stone walls.

“that’s it, honey, make a mess for me. let ‘em hear you pretty girl.” he encourages, talking you straight into your first orgasm.

you tremble, gushing all over his hand as you cum, droplets splattering all over the paved floor. lando’s eyes turn black, mouth hanging open as he watches you fall apart, riding you through it.

lando let’s you cool down, propping you carefully against the wall, and leaning over the balcony. funnily enough, max is long gone, but the rest of them sit in stunned silence. he can’t help himself, driven mad by your quivering body and their cruel jabs, choosing whatever the opposite of the high road is. he reaches into his pocket, finding his credit card.

“get out of the villa that i paid for so i can fuck my girlfriend anywhere she wants.” he shouts, watching the way their necks snap up to look at him, revelling in their reddened faces that are not just flushed from the sun. “take this. have dinner. just fuck off.” he frisbees his card at tom, - rather carelessly really, considering just how much there was to lose on that little black square - and he revels in the way it lands square against his forehead.

they all stand up and scurry away, as few faint sorry’s! carrying through the air towards the couple on the balcony, but lando has more important business to attend to.

he scoops you up into his arms, grinning at your coy smile and your drooping eyes. he carries you to bed, planting you in the middle of the mattress.

“not done with you yet, baby, open those eyes for me.” lando coos, crawling over you, his shirt and workout shorts flung to the other side of the room. he feels delicious against you, caging you in beneath him.

“want you, lan.” you plead, a desperate smile on your face as you keen, stretching against the mattress like a cat.

“you’ll have me, baby. always gonna have me.” he smiles, eyes finding yours. “i love you.”

“love you so much.” you whisper, pulling him flush against you. “no matter what.” you affirm. he needed to hear that, it seems, his eyes sparkling with something else, other than the sheen of lust.

he kisses you, firm and wanting, his fingertips sliding up over your arms, leaving prickles of lightning and goosebumps in their wake. one of his hands interlocks with yours, twining together above your head, his body stretching languidly over yours. you can feel him, hard and throbbing between your legs, teetering on the knife edge of self control.

“take me, lando. have me how you want me. ‘m yours.” you croon, disguising a helpless whine as you arch your body into his. you’re squirming for it, to feel him sink deep and claim you his.

that seems to usher him along, and he drags his cock through your folds with a slow roll of his hips, the head catching your sodden entrance. you hiss, the intrusion not even nearly enough, but the sensation overwhelming you nonetheless. he slides into you carefully, stilling when his hips hit flush against yours. you do not want careful.

“fuck me.” you groan wetly, hot breath fanning his face as your mouth instinctively fills with saliva. you’re close to drooling for him.

“beg.” he snaps, jaw tight as he battles his natural instinct to utterly ravage you. “beg me to show you that i own you.”

your legs quiver, pussy clenching around him and he cannot help but buck his hips and suppress a whine. he styles it out, tantalisingly slow as he rolls his hips, grinding against your pleasure point, your slick walls. blood rushes in your ears, your body feral with need. you can’t even tease, disobey him for the fun of it, not when he’s wound you up so delectably. your body keens for him, hums with the sparks, a live wire.

“don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done,” you slur, beginning to ramble. “want to feel you so deep that i’m ruined. ‘m yours, lando. have me.” you plead.

pleasure shoots through him, then, rapid and unwavering. he’s unforgiving as he rails into you, immediately stoking the fire in your belly. all of his body weight is on you, sweaty skin sticking and slapping as his hipbones bruise into yours.

“is that how you want it, huh, baby?” he manages to growl, scooping up your wrists in one big paw, his other hand working down the planes and curves of your body. he finds the triangles of your bikini top, hastily tearing them down just enough so that your tits spill out. all for him. all his. “look at this perfect fucking body,” his breathe hitches, awestruck. “is it all mine?”

you cry out, nodding shamelessly as he ghosts his fingers around the swell of your nipple, switching to the other when he’s satisfied with the peak. he alternates between them, twisting and tugging, barely there and all too hard. you can only plead his name and tighten around his cock.

once he’s overstimulated your chest, he works his fingers further down your body, stopping now and then to dig into your flesh, appreciating the soft feeling of your skin under his calloused hands.

“and this hot, little cunt… is this mine, too?” lando breathes, right against the shell of your ear. his thumb presses hard against your thrumming clit, smearing your slick over the bud. “to play with? is it baby?”

“god, yes.” you manage to bellow, the strained words tearing over your vocal chords.

“yes, what?” lando snaps, slapping lightly over the bundle of nerves.

“it’s yours!” you sob, choking on your own voice.

“to…?” lando coaxes, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips as he looks at you expectantly.

“to play with.” you stutter, cheeks tinged hot with embarrassment that seeps down your neck and between your sweat-dampened bodies.

“that’s my good girl. my pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“‘m so close.” you breathe, writhing up the mattress, his body atop your inescapable. he toys with your clit, pinching the electrified nerves, watching how you buck your hips and leak onto the mattress. he’s covered in you, his belly glistening in the sunlight that washes over you, sealing you forever in this golden, sparkling moment.

“want me to cum all over your tummy, baby? mark you mine?” lando gasps, driving into you with one goal in mind. he has to get you there, wants to be painted in the remnants of your pleasure and hung up in every art museum in the world. if only he wasn’t so selfish, yearning to keep this stunning sight to himself for the rest of his life.

“n-no,” you pause, your jaw going slack for a moment as he circles your clit just right, grinds his hips so deep. “inside me.” you beg.

“fill me up.”

his vision blurs.

lando just about folds you in half, carnal desire surging through his veins. the hand keeping yours suspended over your head falls away, finding your navel where he applied a brutal, sweet pressure that leaves you blind and wailing. his other fingers busy themselves sinking into the meat of your thigh, dragging you backwards and forwards on his throbbing length.

your body goes limp, tears of pleasure trailing wetly down your face as your orgasm hits you, and lando can’t help but bury himself as deep as he can go. the rutting of his hips and the messy rub of his whole hand against your clit leaves you awestruck, sobbing into the air of the room. you’re covering him in waves, shivering as you grow overstimulated but you can’t help but chase the high. your violent quivers and dripping cunt make him whine, high pitched and divine, and he drops onto you, filling you up. he can’t seem to stop, painting you white from the inside out, watching the way it drips out of you, coating the base of his cock.

this can’t be over yet, he decides. he needs to hear you scream.

“lemme help you with that.” he mumbles, slinking down your body, eyes fixed solely on where you were joined together.

you don’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of him buried inside of you, no. you’re too busy pushing at his curls, pleading that he lets up, but he can’t. it’s not that he won’t, it’s that he quite simply can’t.

his tongue runs up the seam of your pussy, lapping over the mixture you’ve made and you can’t do anything but cry and thrash, white hot with pleasure and pain. its so good that it hurts, and you give in, knowing that he isn’t going to stop unless you say the magic words. lord knows, you won’t. lando knows you won’t.

it’s torturous, really, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, drags his tongue over his mess and slips it right into your entrance. he swirls and sucks and nips and tugs. it’s like he’s turned a faucet on, watching hazily as you drip and drip, more of you and him seeping onto his tongue. he’s insatiable as he licks you clean, unable to resist luring you into a third orgasm.

and when it hits, god, does it hit.

the scream he pulls from your body is deafening, makes him shake with the intensity of it, the vibrations rippling through your body and ricocheting off of his. you relax limply into the mattress, urgently needing a break. you watch through hooded eyes as he slurps anything left of you from his reddened lips, your thighs clenching unconsciously. he just chuckles, flopping down beside you.

“tired, baby?” lando teases, stroking over your rapidly rising and falling ribs.

“just a tad.” you deadpan, unable to hold back the giggles as serotonin soothes you.

“oh, sweetheart. i’m not even nearly done with you yet.” lando grins toothily, deviously.

something he said about fucking you ‘anywhere’ you wanted dawns on you and your eyes widen.

-

anywhere really did mean anywhere.

he’d had to carry you to the shower when you were finally done, holding you close under the spray. you were lost to the memory of him pushing you into the sideboard in the hallway, laying you flat across the kitchen counter, eating you like dessert on the very same sun lounger that you’d been perched on when this whole marathon commenced.

you’re utterly spent, eyelids sagging when he finally sets you down on the sofa, playing on his phone while you fall asleep watching the office.

you’re curled up in lando’s lap, legs hanging over the end of the sofa when max finds you. hair still wet from the much needed shower and fast asleep in his best friends arms. he actively chooses to quell the disgusted curl of his lips. you look so peaceful, safe. his plans to throttle lando for his earlier stint subside.

“call me a wankstain on society later, if you want, but please don’t wake her up.” lando speaks with a hushed tone, not even gracing max with eye contact, his eyes remaining on the candies he’d been crushing before the other fewtrell turned up.

“i- no, i wasn’t gonna call you that. i did, however, consider driving that very nice, very vintage lambo you hired off a cliff.” max mutters. lando scoffs a laugh.

“you would have paid for it.” he still doesn’t look up from the phone. max eyes the way lando strokes your side, in time with the crests and falls of your breath. it’s tender, intimate.

max considers that there’s a strong possibility he was wrong.

“mate, listen-“

“nope. she’s your baby sister, i get it. i get it. you can hate me for it, but you crossed a line going after her like that.” lando finally looks up at max, glowering sternly.

“i’m gonna talk to her.” max bows his head, as if he’s ashamed of himself and lando softens slightly.

“you should, mate. she wants your support, your approval means everything.” lando says. “look, i love her. i really do. and while you were accusing me of trying to ruin her life, you were crushing her.” lando sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of pain. max meets his gaze.

“for the record, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for my little sister, but you come pretty fucking close.” max relents, pushing his pride aside, finally. lando smiles, small and knowing.

“i just wanna make her happy.” he shrugs, a look of hopeless romance, utter devotion and pure happiness radiating off of him in waves as he gazes down at your frame. something in max’s belly snaps, the apprehension dissolving to mush. he had gotten this all wrong.

“you do.” he hums, watching how you curl further into lando as you stir in your sleep, the drivers fingers delicately combing your hair away from your face. “but,” max quips.

lando grimaces, bracing himself.

“if you ever, ever, pull something like that again,” max shivers with disgust at the insinuation. “i will remove your bollocks and make you watch me crash the miura.” max swears, pointing a finger of warning.

“seems like everyone’s come to their senses, no more… pranks from me.” lando holds his free hand up in mock surrender.

“have you two kissed and made up yet?” you murmur, stretching out in lando’s arms. you rub sleep from your eyes, sitting up and leaning into your boyfriends solid frame, resting against him as your eyes flit to your brother.

“we’re good. ‘m, uh, sorry.” max nods, attempting to be heartfelt. lando chokes on a laugh as it falls flat.

“you’re “uh, sorry”?” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i’m really sorry.” max tries again, and you grin cheekily at your brother, watching as his shoulders release the tension they’ve been carrying all afternoon. he turns to leave, halfway to the door when you call out to him.

“hey, max?”

“yeah, lovely?” your chest warms at the sweet nickname. you’d forgotten the last time he’d called you that.

“wash your sheets.” your eyes blaze with amusement and you hear lando’s sharp inhale of breath, shocked that you’d gone there.

“you didn’t- my god, you did not-“ max splutters, his face almost green with nausea.

“you’ll never know for sure.” you grin. you think he’s going to faint.

serves the bastard right.

-

hehe

lemme know what u think!! <33

-

taglist

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[subbmissivesuccubus]

I don't know if this kink has a name but I am just obsessed with super casual boob play lmao

Also!!?? Thank you guys for helping me reach 2K followers! It's so exciting and i've been having so much fun writing and reading the smut on this website. Here's to many more stories which hopefully give you the tingles <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, so that's the groceries we need for this week."

"Mmm."

"Oh, don't forget to buy flowers! It's my moms birthday tomorrow."

"Mmm."

"Are you even listening?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at your boyfriend, the man simply staring at you.

"Mmm."

"Ok, so that's a no." you said, rolling your eyes before snapping your fingers in front of your boyfriends face, the man jumping and blinking a few times as he was brought back to reality.

"Can you pay attention now?" you asked sternly.

"Sorry. I was too busy staring at your tits." he said honestly, making you sigh. There he goes again with his very obvious boob obsession, your man having a clear fetish for your breasts.

"Well, if you continue to ignore me, you won't see my boobs for a week."

"Or, you flash them to me now, I promise I'll remember every single word you say."

"Oh my God."

"Come here, baby. Come here." he begged, hands reaching out to quickly grab you by the hips and drag you forward, his nails digging into the fabric of your skirt as he all but manhandled you onto his lap, smiling at you as he got your legs to straddle his waist.

"You're a degenerate." you snarled as you placed your hands on his shoulder, more than familiar with this particular song and dance.

"I'm your degenerate. And besides, this is your fault you know." he said, casually fisting the hem of your t-shirt before pulling it up, "If you didn't have such perfect titties, I wouldn't be like this!"

"So you weren't obsessed with boobs before you met me?" you questioned, allowing him to tug the t-shirt upto your chin, the man greedily looking at your bra covered breasts. Not having the patience to take the shirt off of you completely, he simply pulled it over your head so it looped around the back of your neck, your arms still in the sleeves but he didn't care as all he wanted was access to his favorite part of you.

"Of course not." he said confidently as he all but face planted into your cleavage, groaning in delight as he pushed his face in as deep as he could go, "I only got obsessed when you came into the picture."

You huffed, trying to fight the blood rushing to your face and between your legs as you fisted a hand through his hair, tugging at it a bit as you got his attention:

"Are you going to listen to me now?"

"Mmhmm." your boyfriend groaned, nodding a yes against your boobs, truly happy being surrounded by your plump flesh. Sighing, you once again told him what he needed to buy for groceries, allowing him to grope and kiss you wherever he wanted. His tongue ran over your skin, huffing and humming in response every time you asked him if he was listening.

He soon pushed your bra up as well, too eager to bother unhooking it as he placed it against your collarbone, the elastic of the band digging into your skin and making your tits look even more delicious than before. He opened his mouth and took a nipple in, closing his eyes as he started suckling gently, his arms wrapped around you and pulling you in closer.

"H-Hey..." you moaned, gripping his hair tighter as he suckled on you, "It's getting late. You need to leave before the stores close."

"Mmhmm. I know." he muttered against you, tongue coming out to flick at your nipples a few times before he moved to the other breast, giving her the same treatment, "Just- fuck- give me a minute."

You sighed, jumping as you felt his hands move down to your ass, taking greedy gropes of your butt as he lost himself in the sensation of your breast in his mouth.

Yeah, you were not getting your groceries today.

~~~~~

You slipped away from the group of friends in the living room to your bedroom, wanting to get your phone which had hopefully finished charging by now. As you were checking your phone and responding quickly to a few messages, you suddenly felt a hand on your waist that swiftly moved upwards and groped your right breast.

"Eh-hey!" you hissed softly, head snapping back towards your boyfriend, his touch so familiar that you instantly knew it was him, "Cut it out! We have guests!"

"I know but I just need one suck, ok?" he asked even as his other hand came up to start unbuttoning your shirt dress, "I'll be super quick, I promise."

"You- ah!" you squealed as he got the buttons undone enough to expose your bra, his fingers digging into the cup of the right side to pull it down, revealing your bare breast to the crisp air. He turned you around and quickly bent down and took the nipple into his mouth. Your head kept snapping between him sucking your nipple and the door, on edge as if anyone walks in, it would be very obvious.

Your man groaned as he suckled on your nipple, eyelashes tickling your skin as he closed his eyes. The sound of the TV and chattering was loud enough to thankfully drown out his groans, your boyfriend suckling you so hard it made your toes curl.

"Wh-you-" you hissed as his hand quickly pulled down the other cup of your bra and exposed your other breast, "You said only one!"

"I know but I can't not suck her too!" he protested, giving your left nipple a greedy lick, "she'll get jealous!"

"What the fuck are you talking abooouuttt!" you gasped as he suddenly took the nipple in and sucked on it as well, just as vigorously. You stood there for a few seconds, allowing your maniac of a boyfriend to suck and feel you up before he finally pulled away.

"Just what I needed. Thank you baby." he said, kindly helping you stuff your tits back into your bra and right your dress, giving your tits a final squeeze before he walked out of the room, leaving you a frustrated mess with your nipples tingling.

What a menace.

~~~~~

It was movie night, one of your favorite ways to spend time together. It was always a treat to just relax with your boyfriend, put on a random movie, eat popcorn and talk.

And of course, he also loved that he gets to play with your tits the whole time.

You huffed as your boyfriend pulled you onto his lap, his legs spread wide to accommodate you between them. Bowl of popcorn in hand, you munched away at the treat even as your man slid his hands up your shirt, aiming for your breasts.

"Ew, why are you wearing a bra?" he asked, clicking his tongue as his hands got in contact with the soft fabric.

"Sometimes I like having my boobs supported by something, ok? Fucking sue me."

"You don't need a bra to support your tits when you have my hands. I'm taking it off."

Before you could even protest, your man slid his hands to your back and unhooked the bra masterfully, practically an expert at it at this point. He was about to push the straps down your arms and pull the bra out from under your shirt but then he realized- why are you wearing a shirt? You might as well be topless as he was going to play with your boobs the whole time anyway.

So with your shirt and bra tossed onto the floor, you tried your best to focus on the movie playing on screen even as your boyfriend happily groped away at your tits. Ample flesh spilling out between his fingers, he squeezed you like a toy- like your tits were something he could use to alleviate stress. Occasionally, he'd flick his fingers over your nipples, working them up to stiff peaks before gently pinching them between his thumb and index finger. He'd place his hands underneath your breasts, cupping them before he bounced them up and down, loving the feeling of your heavy flesh landing on his palms, the ripple of your breasts on impact instantly making his cock hard.

And of course, as usual, once he was done playing with his hands (which was practically an hour long activity), he'll move onto his mouth. Your body automatically moved along with him as he lifted you up a bit higher onto his lap, looping an arm over his shoulder so he had the space to lean down and take a nipple into his mouth.

"Y-You're not even watching the movie, are you?"

"Mm-mmm" he responded, shaking his head no against your breast, his response making you shiver. You rolled your eyes and continued to watch the movie, failing at it even before he started sliding his hand into your pants.

~~~~~

Of course, your boob obsessed boyfriend can't sleep unless it's on said boobs.

"Take it offfff!" he whined, wrestling with you as he harshly tugged at your shirt.

"It's cold!" you protested as you tried to pull the fabric back down over you, "I'm going to freeze!"

"I'll keep you warm! You know the rules- no clothes in bed."

"You're wearing clothes!"

"Yes but I don't have a pair of delicious tits that are just begging to be suckled!"

"Oh my God- fine, how about this?" you asked, slapping his hand away from your shirt before you pulled up upto your chin, flashing him your bare boobs, "Just get in here and I get to keep the shirt on."

"...Why didn't you just say so?"

You grunted as you were tackled, pushed to lie down on the bed as your boyfriend landed on top of you, face first into your tits. You pulled your shirt over his head, covering the dopey smile on his face as he used his hands to push your tits against him, shaking his head from side to side as he motorboated you.

He thankfully still had some sense to pull the blanket over the two of you and you were able to dim the lights, whipping your phone out so you can get some screen time before you went to sleep. You felt wetness on your left nipple, your boyfriend finally done with shaking your fat tits in his face.

His tongue ran in circles over the hard bud, dragging it slowly as he knew he could take his time. He started flicking your bud harshly, his hot tongue making you shiver with each flick. Eventually, he sealed his lips around it, groaning happily as he started to suck. He was noisy- moaning like he was eating a delicious meal and the slobbering noises of him feasting on you making your ears ring, the pressure he used to suckle on you keeping you on your toes.

As he sucked on the left one, his hand came up to play with the right, toying with her as he got her ready to be sucked next. He rubbed the nipple around with his thumb before pinching it gently, giving her a few twists once in awhile. He was latched onto the same nipple for almost 30 minutes before he moved onto the next one, but not before dragging himself from underneath your shirt and pushing the fabric upto your chin.

Fuck it. You were falling asleep and now your body was running hot so you didn't really care.

"Baby... I want-" he gave your nipple a kiss before he snuggled his face into the fat of your breast before looking up at you, "I want to drink your milk. Make it for me."

"How many biology lessons did you fail for you to think that's possible?" you asked, your eyelids drooping and voice heavy.

"Why are you not pregnant yet? I cum in you like, everyday."

"...You know I'm still on birth control."

"I know but I'm confident I can defeat it."

"Mmkay, keep dreaming. Now shut up- i'm gonna sleep."

"...Stop taking your birth control."

"I'm not having a baby just so you can drink some breast milk."

"Of course not. We'll have a baby because we're in love and we'll be together forever!"

You opened one eye and looked down at him, letting him know you were not impressed.

"...And so I can drink your milk."

"Just keep sucking or sleep."

He pouted before he took your left nipple into his mouth.

~~~~~

Gojo Satoru, Haibara, Shanks, Sanji, Luffy, Ace, Kaeya, Kaveh, Childe, Cyno, Itto, Uzui, Sanemi, Eren, Jean etc. etc.

[pinkberrytea]

He had tasted you once; now, he craves every inch of your being, his hunger insatiable.

Little death—a gift he bestowed upon her, and which she bestows upon him in turn. As her lifeblood touches his lips, Astarion reminisces about the fateful eve when he first sank his fangs into her pretty neck.

Come, gentle night; and when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars.

Astarion x Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 3.1k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: i can't be the only one who is convinced my man is down bad since the very first bite, right? he is so interesting to me! i wanted to explore this idea further, hopefully i did it justice. thank you for reading!

( part 2 here )

tags: blood drinking; fluff & smut; possessive behavior; masturbation; body worship; mildly dubious consent; dry humping; somnophilia

“Later on, when we are at rest, I will eat you right up. Just enough to give me strength, and just enough to leave you wishing for more.”

Footsteps. You hear them approaching, although in your half-unconscious torpor, you can’t tell if they’re near or far. You’re likewise unsure of what has disturbed your sleep, even if as of late, nights have been restless and plagued by nightmares, the worm etched in the recesses of your brain a constant, unforgiving reminder of your plight. Your mind is still hazy, fragments of your dreams clouding your thoughts, so you rely on your primal instincts instead—you smell nothing but the crisp evening air, feel nothing but the cool breeze caressing your warm body, see nothing but endless darkness from behind your closed eyelids, but your ears don’t fail you. You instinctively hold your breath, muscles tensed, staying as still as possible as if playing dead; the footsteps are now almost upon you, the crunching of leaves growing louder and muffling the noise of the crickets singing, and your skin becomes covered in goosebumps in anticipation, the pit of your stomach twisting and turning. Whoever it is, you seem to be their intended target.

Suppressing the mounting panic rising within your chest, you try to gather your bearings and make sense of the situation. You know where you are—Elturgard, or more specifically, a camp in the wilderness, somewhere between Elturel and Baldur’s Gate. Finding a cure for the parasite wriggling in your head is the reason you’re here, and the companions with whom you’re sharing your camp are afflicted by the same condition. Ah, your companions—the footsteps must belong to one of them, surely. The soothing heat of the campfire has significantly dwindled compared to how it was when you turned in, its crackling so low you can barely hear it, and the night is sufficiently chilly that your bedroll fails to offer enough shelter, so you wonder if they are about to tend to the dying flames, or maybe ask you to help them do so. You wait expectantly, pricking up your ears, but suddenly, the crunching sounds come to a halt, and you sense a presence looming over you. A shiver runs down your spine, and your heart starts beating faster, thumping so loudly you’re afraid it may give away your awakened state. The presence silently kneels down beside you, crawling even closer, too close for comfort; and then, you feel it—cold digits ghosting over your cheek, their featherlight touch almost tentatively soft.

Astarion.

Now you remember. You offered to let him feed on you earlier, a habit which you’ve unexpectedly picked up in recent days, although the reason for such eludes you. Perhaps it was his pained expression when he asked you the first time, or maybe something else—you’re not entirely certain, but the fact of the matter is, he is here, except unlike other nights, you are fully aware of your surroundings. Not only that, it has been no more than a fortnight since your little tryst in that pretty clearing, which it seems both of you are intent on pretending never happened. You more so than him—it would be insincere of you to claim you haven’t noticed the dangerous glint in his eyes, how he leans closer when you talk, the cunning smirks and wistful glances. Truth be told, you’re still unsure what to make of it all; none of it is how you expected it would be, not your time together, and certainly not the aftermath. Him, too—though it may be bold of you to assume so, you can’t help but think that his show of vulnerability, however brief, had not been intentional. Ever so often you idly muse over the raw perplexity etched across his face when you invited him to drink from you then, how he looked at you in utter disbelief, letting the mask of a debonair lover slip for a split second; how his kisses became more fervent, his touches less calculated, the confusion never truly seeming to leave him until you were done. And then, the morning after—the hurt in his voice, the complex feelings he appeared to be trying to suppress seeping from every word, as if he had been prepared for anything and everything but genuine yearning, and you ruined it all for him.

“This isn’t about hunger. It’s about pleasure.”

The digits on your cheek slide downwards, gliding across the curve of your jaw and towards your slender neck, where they stop for a brief moment, only to then press down on it, feeling around as if searching for something—an artery, pulsing so very tantalizingly with your precious crimson, a feast set out entirely for him. With his other hand, he gently runs his fingers through your hair and brushes it behind your shoulder, exposing his prize, and repositioning himself to straddle you, he lowers his head until his mouth is hovering right above it. He stays like this for a while, and your blood runs cold as it dawns on you that he may have noticed you are not asleep, but before long, his skin finally comes into contact with yours—however, rather than the sharp pain you’d been expecting, you feel only the pillowy softness of his lips; a tender kiss, which is then followed by another, and then another. One of his hands stays tangled in your hair, cradling your head, and he splays the other on the ground beside you to support himself. His fangs lightly graze the throbbing vein with each peck, almost teasingly, until finally, he sinks them into the sensitive flesh, carefully and steadily so as not to wake you. The uncomfortable sensation is not foreign to you, although it is clear he has become more accustomed to this, even if you have not; his technique has significantly improved, and after the initial stab, it hardly hurts anymore, other than a dull ache every time he swallows, which he does quite enthusiastically.

“Just you and me and—well, maybe a little death?”

Letting out low grunts and guttural moans as he drinks, Astarion sucks ever so vigorously, seemingly more at ease due to your apparent lack of consciousness. Your face gradually grows warmer as you notice tension building up low in your stomach, the noises he makes and the feeling of his plush lips and wet tongue against your skin causing your body to react with pathetic wantonness. You try to stifle the impending arousal, doing your best to remind yourself that he is only feeding, nothing more, nothing less; until you notice the hand on which he had been leaning make its way from its place on the ground to rest on your waist, gingerly moving upwards until his long fingers brush against the plump of one of your breasts, almost as if by accident—it is, however, no accident when two of them then pinch a pebbling nipple through the thin fabric of your nightshirt, delicately massaging the pert nub while the others knead the squishy surrounding flesh. The ache between your legs swells with desire, and you flusteredly bite back the whimper threatening to escape the confines of your closed mouth; believing you to be deep in slumber, he has no reason for such restraint, and his vocalizations increase in frequency and volume alike. 

Having to now use his upper body strength to keep himself propped up, he decides to instead gently fall on top of you, momentarily unlatching from your neck to then slightly push you to the side and press his strong chest flush against your back, one hand woven in your hair and the other cupping your breast still. With almost desperate keenness, he hooks one of his legs over yours, shoving his crotch against your rear, and immediately you notice the rock hard bulge nudging the space between your buttocks. The tips of your ears burn bright red at this realization, making you wonder how common of an occurrence this must be; as your mind wanders to the night when he first bit you, he sinks his fangs back into the bruised vein, and your eyes water a little due to the sudden pain, which you quickly forget about once you feel his hips start almost imperceptibly grinding against your own. Wedging the bulge deeper within the valley of your ass, he moves it to and fro, almost in rhythm with his sucking of your blood, the digits on your bosom earnestly playing with your nipple and those in your hair tenderly caressing the tousled tresses. 

“Hm—hnng…” Astarion groans lewdly, lasciviously, making suggestive wet sounds while sensually lapping at your crimson. No longer satisfied to feel you up through your clothes, he sticks his hand under your shirt, and his cold fingers quickly resume fondling the soft skin of your breast, in response to which shock waves shoot up your legs and arms. Freeing the digits tangled in your hair, he brings them to your ribs, sliding their pads along your navel and down towards your groin, where he then firmly grabs one of your supple thighs. That’s when it occurs to you how unlike your night together he seems to be acting—eagerly exploring your body with almost adolescent clumsiness, his movements sloppy and impulsive, he appears to be entirely focused on taking rather than giving; having no reason to try to impress you, he acts greedily instead, intent on achieving his own personal ecstasy above all else, a fact that doesn’t bother so much as instill in you a puzzling sense of relief.

Increasing the pace of his thrusts, he tightens the grip of his leg around yours, and for a short while you all but forget that your crimson is running down his throat still, unable to focus on anything but the heat irradiating from his skin as it becomes ever warmer the more he feeds. When you notice you can no longer feel the tips of your toes, it is far too late—a tingling sensation spreads across your heavy limbs due to the loss of blood, and holding onto a single thought proves far too difficult, your mind now a messy whirlwind of memories and abstractions. Your arousal persists even as your conscience starts to wane; slick soaks through your underpants, the sweet scent of which causes Astarion to immediately stop moving, freezing as if caught with his fingers inside the cookie jar. After what seems like an eternity, both his hands and fangs leave your helpless form, and he shuffles behind you, presumably looking for something—before you can even begin to wonder what, you feel him press a soft piece of fabric against the fresh set of bite marks on your neck, which he uses to gently wipe the thick red blooming from the small wounds. 

Worried that any further stimulation might disturb your sleep, he decides to attempt a less bold approach instead, pulling away slightly, although your legs remain twisted together. Barely awake now, the echoes of the forest reach your ears in hushed, distant hums, but you can still hear him as he brings the bloodstained cloth to his nose, taking in your scent deeply, eyes closed and a libidinous moan falling from his pretty lips. One of his now freed hands hastily makes its way to the waistband of his pants, only to then slip under it, and as soon as his elegant digits brush against the velvety crown of his cock, he wraps them around its engorged girth, squeezing lightly and drawing pearly droplets of precome from the weeping slit. 

“Mngh…” he croaks, his voice raspy and hoarse, and you can’t tell for sure, but a whisper that vaguely sounds like your own name wafts through the air and vanishes into the evening sky as he starts sliding his hand up and down his length, smearing the clear liquid seeping from the leaking tip all over himself. Prior to your night of passion, this is how he would choose to relieve the painful erection inevitably provoked by his daily feedings, only he would retreat to his tent then; once you became more intimate, things changed, and raw eroticism would percolate into every session, images of your moments together sweeping through his mind and springing his aching sex to life with each gulpful of your lifeblood. The instant you offered him your neck, all he had ever known suddenly came into question—drinking from you while balls-deep into your tight cunt was an experience unlike any other, to the point of almost completely resignifying the concept of pleasure for him. By owning your body, he had made you his, even if only temporarily; your blind trust was something he had never before experienced, and not once had he felt so powerful as with you squirming under him, completely submitting to his whims. 

“Astarion, please…” he recalls you whimpering, the sound of his name on your pink tongue so enticingly sultry, stirring up in him all sorts of conflicting feelings; lust, infatuation, guilt, anger, all blended together and indistinguishable from one another. How beautiful a vision you had made then—such a pretty, luscious thing, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes glinting with coquettish longing. The more he finds himself caring, the more he hates you for it; the more his hatred for you grows, the more he wants you by his side. Choosing to manipulate you into a tactical alliance was the culmination of careful and meticulous deliberation—at once deadly and most pleasing to the eye, yet seemingly unaware of either fact; a naive, kind fool, lost and alone, his perfect target from every angle, you were the obvious candidate. He had no way of knowing at the time—how you would unwittingly beat him at his own game and steal your way into his undead heart, without even really trying. 

While pumping his now glistening cock, your precious face is all Astarion can think of, every detail of it perpetually burned onto his retinas—long, thick lashes, curtaining doe-like eyes; sweet little freckles speckling the bridge of your nose; smooth skin and plump rosy lips, so soft and kissable. And your scent, oh, your scent—delicious and intoxicating, such a lovely, delectable bouquet. Although now warm, his hand could never compare to the feeling of your slickened walls clenching and fluttering around him, and no amount of pressure would ever be able to replicate the sensation of stretching them open, coaxing yelps and cute whiny pants out of you with each nudge of your cervix. He wonders for a moment what other expressions he has yet to witness you make; in what other manners he has yet to take you, in what other positions he has yet to watch you come undone. Maybe on all fours, that round ass of yours sticking out so very invitingly, begging to be devoured; maybe on your knees, darkened lips wrapped tightly around his cock, eyes watering and drool dripping down onto the swollen peaks of your perky breasts as you accommodate all of him like the good girl you are. Each idea is more enticing than the one before, and the very thought of acquainting himself with all the ins and outs of your body makes him feel alive, bulging veins and tumid cockhead pulsating madly against his sweaty palm as he goes over the endless possibilities. He had tasted you once; now, he craves every inch of your being, his hunger insatiable. 

“Mine…” he growls possessively, picturing your tits bouncing and the rouged knot atop your dripping core throbbing for him as he feels his climax draw nearer, rubbing the cloth sullied with your crimson against his nose, your taste still fresh in his mouth and a trail of red running down his chin. You are not his, not yet, but although he curses himself for it, he would bring his simple plan to fruition, for all the wrong reasons; he wants you, he needs you—his own little bundle of joy, his light in the darkness, his glimmer of solace, his, his, his, and his alone. He won’t share your kindness, not with your companions, not with anyone, and he cares not if his greediness makes him unworthy, for he never deserved any of it in the first place; regardless, you’d still extend a hand to the wretch who put a knife to your throat, toyed with your emotions and sucked you dry, in more ways than one. You may not realize it, but in sharing your life essence with him, you breathed color into his world, roused within his soul a vital spark he’d long forgotten had once ever been there. He may not be entitled to it, but he’d still have it all—he’d still have you, to the bone and beyond.

“Oh, gods…” With one last stroke, Astarion empties himself on his hand and stomach, legs convulsing and hips stuttering, letting go of the cloth to then nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, lips pressed against the bloodied gashes maculating your otherwise flawless skin. The inside of his pants is now covered in come, yet even as the thick fluid runs uncomfortably down his thighs, he feels strangely at peace—happy, even. His softening cock twitches and jerks still, but fearing that his luck may soon run out, he lets go of it and wipes his fingers on the hem of his shirt, which he learns is also stained with his seed; once they’re sufficiently clean, he wraps both of his arms around your waist in a tight embrace, focusing on the gentle raising of your chest as you inhale ever so softly, finally at rest. 

“This is a gift, you know.”

He won’t forget it. Regardless of what may lie ahead, he won’t. Warm flesh, beating heart; as your crimson courses through his veins, the thread of life now connects you both, your fates forever intertwined. When morning comes, all will be back to normal, but for now, he shall hold you, cradle you, as he would a lover. A true lover—though what would that be, if not prey that wakes by his side once the dawn breaks? Disturbing as that thought may be, it is of little import for now; basking in the clarity of death, he allows himself a moment of reprieve, for your time together is far from over. What treasures will the future bestow? Why—finding out is but a matter of waiting.

[dalekofchaos]

AU Asami is Amon by nikoniko_808

Give me the forbidden enemies to lovers Korrasami

Okay I wrote up my own au of Asami as Amon

Hiroshi and Asami witnessed the death of Asami’s mother at the hands of the Red Lotus society. Asami swore revenge on all benders. The corruption of Benders has gone too far and Asami and her father cannot let it continue. So they create a movement. The Equalists. Near the end of season 1. Asami would be nowhere to be seen. The Krew believes the Equalists have kidnapped Asami and when Korra confronts Amon, they don’t see her.

Tarrlok is still captured by Amon, when Korra sees him and they chat, he tells the whole story of Amon as it happened in the show to her and everything. Like it goes in the show. Korra and friends go to confront Amon at the arena where Tenzin and his family are about to lose their bending. But they don’t because she gets there in time. She accuses Amon of being a bender, as per Tarrlok’s story. Amon doesn’t unmask. And he isn’t a bender. Tarrlok lied to get Korra to confront Amon so that he could capture her and he could hopefully save his own skin for the service at least. They fight. Amon takes Korra’s bending in a big demonstrative way. So all the crowd can see what comes to any benders, especially The Avatar who stand against him. Then the reveal happens. Asami is Amon.

In order to get her bending back and learn how to give others their bending back (yeah, Korra wouldn’t get it back at the end of Book 1 because consequences? What’re those?), Korra has to go on a quest to learn her bending(her masters would be Toph, Katara, Izumi and Tenzin) in the Spirit World to understand everything. Korra does not cry about loosing her bending because she realized she’s still The Avatar and has to go to The Spirit World to get her bending back, to help everyone get their bending back and stop Asami

Throughout the series, we would meet Kya, Bumi, Izumi, Eska, Desna(Eska and Desna would be Korra’s siblings in this universe, because fuck Unaloq) Opal and Kai. We have the same romance between Bolin and Opal and Jinora and Kai. We would also meet Varrick and Zhu Li, because they are comedy gold. They would all help in the fight against Amon and the Equalists.

In Korra’s venture to the Spirit World,

she would still see Wan’s story(because that’s the only thing I liked about Book 2) and I think in her journey in the spirit world she would see Asami’s story, in which her family were victims of the Red Lotus society and Asami learned to take bending away in the spirit world. Not only that, we would find out that Asami would be bonded with Vaatu. Asami is the darker Avatar.

Before she leaves The Spirit World she connects with all her past lives to ask what she should do about Asami. Korra has her Aang moment where she has too has to decide what to do like he did with the fire lord, only this time there’s more to it than just stopping the bad guy. It’s about the person she loved. She can restore everyone’s bending by reversing Amon’s convergence, but she can’t do that so long as the avatar spirit is split. And as long as Asami is part avatar, she can go into the avatar state. That’s still pretty damn dangerous even with only water and blood bending. Korra realizes the only thing she can do to stop Asami? Love her.

After her journey to relearn her bending and journey in the spirit world, Korra travels the world to gain allies. From the Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, Water Tribes and Air Nomads. Korra unites the world against Amon and the Equalists.

In the final fight, Korra defeats Amon. She exorcises Vaatu from Asami, thus ending the dark Avatar and stopping Amon’s convergence. She reverses what Asami has done and uses it to restore everyone’s bending. So she has to come to the hard part. Amon makes it clear, no matter what, even without the ability to energy bend or without Vaatu, Amon will never stop, Benders will never be safe. Korra shows Asami what she was denied. Korra loves her and forgives her. Asami gives up and accepts whatever punishment.

During Book 3, Asami would work with Korra in stopping and killing the Red Lotus society. However, when Zaheer is stopped. He is left at the mercy of Asami and for everything he’s done and turned her into. Asami kills him.

Book 4 happens. Asami’s redemption is rebuilding Republic City and using Future Industries to repair the damage she’s done as Amon. Blah blah blah Korra stops Kuvira blah blah. Asami earns her redemption and the love of Republic City, the krew and more importantly Korra. Ends with Korra and Asami venturing in the Spirit World and ends with a kiss.

[rafeyswrd]

for your rafe cameron series 🧡!

i hc that rafe hates that his shy gf is a people pleaser so whenever ppl ask reader for/to do things, he tells them no and teaches reader to be selfish sometimes

sweet girl . part one.

part two.

. . . finally done with uni and travel work so!!! i have not written in too long, so hopefully i have done it some justice!! part 1 because i truly think it deserves more :(

warnings. manipulative rafe? oblivious reader. bad friends lowkey.

Rafe Cameron adored you to the ends of the earth, every breath you took called his name. He cannot think of any quality you owned in which he disliked (maybe, slightly, being a pogue). But God he could not stand how nice you were. You knew it was a bad habit, a habit that made you likeable for all the wrong reasons. 

Your heart was racing, and the base of your palms overloaded with sweat. No matter how many times you tried to relieve the stress, your mind would not stop reeling. It took days of convincing on your friends’ end, but it finally came to their luck when you’d hesitantly agreed.

Terrified. Terrified is the word you would use to describe how you felt. You were in shambles just thinking of the ocean, the deep seas scaring you in ways you would rather not imagine. But your friends needed you, after constructing a plan to get another batch of gold – all they needed was you.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked. Your shaking hands were gripping the edge of the boat before you nodded. 

You tried, you really did, only you felt the panic settle in when your legs were the only identifiable object below you that did not jitter you. Your eyes stung painfully, and you were sure they would swell soon enough. After every exhale you did, water filled your lungs and the fish that trickled by your trembling feet, did not help but cause a worrisome tremble of your body. 

It was a long while with overwhelming darkness consuming you, and time didn’t register then, not until Rafe’s angry voice was loading through your ears.

He was beyond furious. He wasn’t supposed to leave you alone today, but how could he say no to you when you were practically begging? (it did not take much — in fact.)

Rafe stood near his bed, watching your breathing steady and lashes gently flutter open. He paced near you with haste speed, before sitting down near your arms. “Do you know how stupid you are?”

“wh-what?” 

“You wanted to keep this relationship a secret,” his breath shook with every word he spat out, yet the touch on his hands were laced with gentleness. “So you better stay outta trouble. I can’t come ‘n get you around your shitty fucking friends.”

You sat up slowly, taking notice of the way your clothes lay folded on his desk chair, his own clothes hanging loosely around your body. You knew Rafe cared about you, he is your boyfriend, but it never crossed your mind that he’d find anger in your misery. 

You gulped, shrugging your shoulders yet your hands still circled by his, “I-I don’t get it, they’re my friends and they asked, it was a risk anyone would tak-”

“No the fuck it’s not, my God Y/N,” he dragged his hands over his face, before leaning close to you. “No friends would ask you to jump into the fuckin’ ocean knowin’ you’re scared shitless.”

His jaw clenched and you squint your eyes at the furrow of his brows, “Rafe…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” The frown residing on your face was evident, reaching out with one hand to clasp his rough hands with your own, and another tenderly caressing the creasing of his skin.

You didn’t understand his anger, but it was justified in your head, nonetheless. How could he ever be wrong in your eyes?

Not a second had passed and he was already mimicking the sadness plastered onto you, before using his other hand to caress your cheeks — a touch so soft sighs escaped the pair’s lips.

“Baby,” he cleared his throat, “Im- m’not mad at you. No one loves you like I do. I wouldn’t risk your life; your friends are selfish.”

He cradled your head onto his chest, wiping and pressing on your pouting mouth. “‘s not the first time either, you care too much ‘ts going to hurt you.” you shrug into his chest, heart aching at the sound of his own beating erratically breath your ears.

Rafe sighed, gulping and leaning onto the headboard, “gonna have to have me stuck by you all the time, i’ll be your backbone while you get to be all sweet ‘n shit.”

“you think i’m sweet?” a saccharine giggle escapes you at the roll of his eyes, and Rafe tightens his hold on you, knuckles white as you draw mindless patterns on his chest.

[sleepyjuice]

44 - maybe its raining n reader is walking to the chateau by herself so jj rushes out to meet her and walk her <3

When you texted jj 15 minutes ago that you were on your way to meet him, the skies were clear and it was beautiful out, so you decided to walk the 25 minute walk to the chateau instead of taking your bike.

That proved itself to be a horrible decision as shortly into your walk, you heard thunder rumbling in the distance and you looked up to see the sky was getting darker by the second.

You quickened your pace, your early afternoon stroll turning into more of a power walk, hoping you could make it in time to not get rained on.

It seemed as if your desire to not get rained on somehow triggered the rain to begin coming down just moments after your thought.

“Oh, fuck me.” You groaned to yourself, wrapping your arms around yourself as you began jogging now, your clothes and hair quickly becoming soaked as the rain poured down.

You had about ten minutes left before you would arrive at the chateau, yet it seemed like hours as you trudged through the nasty weather, your shoes sloshing as they filled with water.

“Yo! Babe!” A voice startled you through the sound of the rainfall hitting the ground, your head shooting over just down the street where jj was running towards you with an umbrella. Where the fuck did he get an umbrella?

“Jesus, you’re fucking soaked. Not in the good way.” jj said as he approached you, immediately holding the umbrella over your head, leaning into you to share it.

You rolled your eyes at his words, but your shoulders sagged in relief at his presence, utterly grateful he had come to rescue you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, gathering your hair to the side to wring out some of the water it had collected.

“Came to get ya. Knew you were walking and saw it started down pouring shortly after you left. I would’ve taken the Twinkie but John b has it.” He explained as you finally reached the chateau, hurrying onto the covered porch.

You shivered once the air conditioning hit you, wishing you had dressed appropriately for the rain and jealous of jj’s dry state.

“God, it’s freezing.” You sighed as you kicked your shoes and socks off, setting them on the porch to hopefully dry eventually.

jj wasted no time grabbing you a towel, wrapping it around your shoulders and rubbing it down your arms and your sides.

“My poor baby.” he cooed, drying off your exposed skin a bit more before he pulled you into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He helped you out of your clothes and you didn’t protest, allowing him to discard the wet clothing in the bathroom, leaving you naked in front of him. His eyes shamelessly scanned over your exposed body in front of him, admiring the sight, but he didn’t make any moves on you, knowing you were cold and uncomfortable. That could wait for later.

He finished drying you off, giving the top of your head a soft kiss before grabbing one of his shirts and a pair of basketball shorts he had, slipping the shirt over your head and handing you the shorts.

You sighed at the feeling of comfort, now being in dry clothing. Your hair was still a bit wet, but you had pulled it into a bun to deal with later.

“Thank you, jay.” You looked up at his gratefully, beyond appreciative of his actions. You would have been way worse off if he hadn’t gotten to you when he did.

“C’mere sweet girl.” He hummed, hands finding your waist as he pulled you down into his bed with him, his grip firm as he pulled you into his chest, your body curling into him immediately.

“Mm,” you hummed contently, “you’re so warm.” He grinned as you relaxed into him, his strong arms holding you close, hands gently massaging your back.

“Yeah? Thought that usually bugged you. What is it you say in the middle of the night? I’m a human furnace? That I heat up the whole bed?” He chuckled, referring to how hot he got when he slept, which inevitably would make you burn up as well.

“You are, you do,” you giggled, “but right now that’s exactly what I need.”

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 6.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: Probably from now on, there is going to be some graphic and dark content ahead. Please read carefully and curate your online experience. BTW, you can read it here on my archive account as well!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5

The soldier was aware that she could not move. Their sense of smell came back first, the smell of flowers and fresh air and food making it easier to grasp onto consciousness. Then, the soldier's hearing came back , the uncomfortable feeling of frost melting and draining from her ears and nose making her thawing muscles shiver.

The sensation of feeling came next: the cryostasis pod bed pads sticking to her skin uncomfortably. Then, heat began to crawl over her like a blanket, and the soldier's eyes slowly opened.

Her vision was blurry, struggling to focus, and she was aware of the woman that had sedated her before being put into cryostasis was speaking to the Fist of HYDRA.

"I was able to finally break through the firewalls in a way that wouldn't trip up HYDRA's algorithm to throw up another block. I don't know how long it will last before the system resets itself, but hopefully...our soldier is not just a soldier anymore."

Confusion swept through the soldier, a feeling of being exposed running through her, and the Fist of HYDRA's voice broke through the brain fog, asking the woman.

"Should we have Okoye present just in case?"

"I am confident that we do not need anybody else present. It runs the risk of causing the soldier emotion duress, which could ruin what we are doing."

The lights around the soldier dimmed as her vision focused suddenly, and she could feel nausea gripping at her stomach. Trying to move made it worse, and the soldier couldn't keep herself from retching and dry heaving as she bent over, falling to the floor.

Hands came to rest upon her shoulder gently, but the soldier flinched, tears pricking her eyes as her stomach constricted painfully once more.

She smacked her hand out, blindly attacking as she retched again, and the uncomfortable feeling of bile rising from her throat made her cough and spat it out onto the ground. The woman cursed in a language the soldier did not understand, and the Fist of HYDRA hummed.

"I'll clean it up. Vertigo and nausea is common, and I doubt she's eaten at all before she went under when we found her."

Her mouth was salivating at the scent of the food across the room, but she kept her mouth closed. She was not permitted to eat unless she was given permission.

Her head was in shambles; flashes of images and people and faces and unpleasant thoughts coming at her so quickly that she could not understand what was happening. The soldier felt afraid for a moment before her programming kicked in, and her physical body became emotionless.

It was almost like a switch; a defense mechanism of her programming that forced her to obey during these moments of resilience and cognitive independence, and though nobody was attacking her for being incompetent or shoving her face down into her own vomit like a dog, the soldier still felt the need to be punished.

Even though it felt wrong.

The thought confused her as she shakily kept herself propped up on her hands and knees, and when the Fist of HYDRA stepped before her, his boots within her vision and making her strength waver, the soldier bowed her head and smacked her face into the vomit below her.

The Fist of HYDRA did not make a sound, and the soldier did not dare to breathe as the vile stench invaded her nostrils and burned her eyes. The female scientist was perturbed, asking the Fist.

"What on earth is she doing?"

It took the Fist a moment to respond, and his tone of voice was angry, making the soldier press down into the disgusting mess on the floor further as she began to believe she had made him angry.

"Punishing herself. They didn't take it kindly when we would show weakness, even after thawing from cryostasis...they probably got harsher with their punishments after I left."

Left? The Fist of HYDRA left? How could he have left?

There is no escape. HYDRA is your home. You were born here, you will live here, and you will die here. Do you understand, soldat?

"Вставать."

Shakily, the soldier attempted to stand up, her legs uneasy as she did so, and she swallowed thickly; jaw clenching as she stared down at the ground before her, and she flinched when the Fist brought his hand up to her face.

He paused for a moment, and the soldier began to spiral mentally. She was a failure. She was weak. Vile; disgusting; an abomination.

Flaws detected. Reprogramming required.

"Я собираюсь очистить твое лицо. Не шеве��ись."

Her body immediately stiffened, and a warm damp cloth touched her cheek. The Fist of HYDRA was gentle with his movements, pressing down firmly to properly clean her face of the vomit. His blue eyes were on her, stern and cautious, but the soldier did not look into his eyes.

She was already in trouble for being weak. Why make it harder for herself? When the Fist was done, he gestured to her with a tilt of his head to follow him to a desk where a plate of food was waiting.

"Иди сюда и поешь."

She was hesitant. Was it a trap? A trick question? The Fist hadn't given her permission to do so. The man was quiet before he sighed and pointed to the chair, his voice becoming stern.

"садиться."

She walked to the chair and sat down, the food in front of her making her mouth salivate while her stomach churned again, and the Fist of HYDRA gestured to the food once more.

The soldier bit her tongue, staring down at the steaming meat and vegetables doused in a delicious-smelling brown sauce, and she felt her stomach constrict.

A good soldier does not require food to function. You will do what it takes to complete your mission, and that is all.

She was not allowed to eat this food, so why was the Fist of HYDRA trying to make her?

"Есть."

Was is laced with drugs like it had been last time? The soldier squinted in confusion at her peculiar thought, and glanced up at the Fist with an apprehensive look. The soldier watched as the Fist of HYDRA sighed and dipped his finger into the sauce and slipped it into his mouth.

"Есть безопасно, солдат."

She could not tear her eyes away from the Fist of HYDRA, however.

Not when the ghastly face of her Handler was peeking over his shoulder at her.

Her body froze, panic and fear running through her, and she shot up from the table as the lights around her went out. What was happening? What was going on? Was this another training sequence?

The smell of food was replaced with the smell of rotting flesh, lights shining throughout the dark void on piles of rotting bodies. There were torn torso's, amputated limbs, crushed skulls and heads, and there were cockroaches and bugs crawling throughout the piles; disappearing beneath entrails and ripped flesh and fat as the mountains of dead bodies became bigger.

Disembodied voices were shouting around her, screaming and sobbing and crying for help, and the soldier was shocked to find that it was her that was screaming.

She was malfunctioning. There was a flaw in her system. Something was wrong. Why was she seeing this? The soldier clutched her head as pain began to bloom within it; pressure building and building and becoming so unbearable that she could not even scream anymore.

There were bugs crawling all over her; centipedes and roaches and other vermin climbing over her body and up into her nose and mouth and ears, and she could see herself in a mirror as her body began to undulate and burst from the sheer volume of vermin going into her mouth.

-

The soldier gasped suddenly, breaking through her bindings that kept her strapped to the table and jumping up. There were countless spears pointing at her, and the soldier, just as she had done in her nightmare, fell to the floor and retched.

She was puking over-and-over, bile and blood mixing into a wretched mess on the floor, and she became afraid when the Fist of HYDRA slowly walked to her. She scrambled back, smacking her skull into the wall, and she was hyperventilating. Why couldn't she calm down?

Flaws detected. Reprogramming required.

Her chest was tight, oxygen hard to breathe in, and she was aware that her face was wet with vomit and water. There were voices all around her, reverbing within her head, and the soldier retched painfully again.

"What is happening?"

The soldier recognized the voice to be coming from the man that looked a lot like the female scientist, his eyes concerned as he slowly relaxed out of the fighting stance he had taken. The Fist of HYDRA explained gently as he knelt on the floor in front of the soldier.

"Shuri said she was beginning to hallucinate due to the stress she was experiencing...possibly a psychotic break. We tried to get her to eat, but she wouldn't do so. She just...kind of freaked out."

Shuri hummed, explaining further.

"I believe what she was experiencing was a very severe hallucination induced by her PTSD. Given the amount of stress that she presented when we offered her food, it is very possible that one of the methods of torture was with hunger."

The soldier was listening yet ignoring the woman all at the same time. Slowly, her breathing was starting to calm, but she wasn't sure if she should open her eyes. Would she see her Handler again? Would he be upset that she was displaying such vile weakness?

За каждую твою ошибку сломаются две кости.

Her stomach was constricting again, and the vile stench of her vomit was invading her nostrils. The soldier curled up into the wall more when the Fist of HYDRA came closer, and his voice was calm.

"Я не собираюсь причинять тебе боль. Меня зовут James."

The soldier trembled slightly before she flicked her gaze over to the Fist of HYDRA. There was a feeling of confusion and intrigue that had her brow furrowing, and she was tempted to speak despite not being given permission.

"Нет."

Her voice was hoarse, and the Fist was surprised slightly as she responded before his face hardened the more she spoke.

"Ты Кулак ГИДРЫ. Ты моя миссия."

She swiped her fist at him, but the Fist of HYDRA anticipated it, catching her fist and keeping a painful grip on it. The plates within his metal arm shifted and slid together in tight recession, and his brow was furrowed harshly.

The soldier did not anticipate how weak her body had become, her hand immediately giving, and she became light-headed as the Fist of HYDRA immediately commanded.

"Не борись со мной. Я не хочу причинять тебе боль."

But that was what they all said. The memories of her previous Handler, the Enforcers, the Scientists...they always said they wouldn't hurt her to make her trust them; to make her compliant. They were like lions, circling around her and waiting until her lame leg would hold her back, and then they would pounce.

Tearing their teeth into her skin, ripping her body apart, gulping her entrails and blood until she was hollow. The soldier squeezed her eyes shut, and for a moment, there was silence. Suddenly, the female scientist said as she stepped forward.

"You do not have to have permission to speak. You are no longer with HYDRA, but here with us in Wakanda. We are not your Handlers...we are your friends. We do not wish to engage in combat or to hurt you like those vile people have."

The Fist of HYDRA glanced back at the woman before looking back at the soldier, and the woman was unsure. She could feel the need to obey, the orders within her mind repeating over and over, and her body was feeling sluggish; attempting to comply.

The Fist of HYDRA was still holding her fist within his hand, and she stared at their connected hands. The Fist carefully placed his other hand over her wrist, his flesh feeling warm against her chilled skin, and the soldier widened her eyes.

"Что для вас значит Мельцер Вудс?"

Meltzer Woods. The soldier squinted slightly, the memories of the dream she had coming to her mind, and she tensed when the female scientist began to slowly approach her. The woman standing beside her hissed, attempting to stop her as the scientist approached.

"Shuri, what are you doing?!"

The woman, Shuri, knelt down beside the Fist, her eyes kind as she asked softly.

"Will you allow me to help you, Soldat?"

The soldier's eyes fluttered slightly, the need to follow orders enticing her compliance, and Shuri grabbed a cloth from a bowl of water and wrung it out before beginning to gently clean the vomit and bile that was coating her bottom jaw and dripping down her neck. The Fist still kept a firm hold of her, but the soldier noticed that he was not as aggressive as he had been before.

The soldier did not understand kindness.

As the woman gently cleaned her off, the soldier was becoming more uncomfortable. The only time that she was cleaned in such a way was when the scientists were doing tests; poking and prodding at her in ways that the soldier knew made her uncomfortable.

"See? That was not so hard. Please allow us to help you, Soldat."

The soldier couldn't help the irritation that stemmed from her anxiety, could not keep herself from lashing out as she hissed, baring her teeth.

"Миссия должна быть завершена. Неудача – это не вариант. Непослушание недопустимо."

You must only complete the mission. Failure will not be tolerated, and if you disobey, there will be dire consequences.

Shuri then hummed and asked, making the Fist shoot his gaze to her with wide eyes.

"Then allow me to help you complete your mission."

"Shuri, what the hell are you doing?"

The Fist's voice was uncertain, accusatory as he looked at her with a shocked look within his eyes, and Shuri glanced at him; giving him an exasperated look before looking back to the soldier. The soldier frowned deeply, hissing out.

"Вы лжете."

The woman chuckled, tilting her head slightly.

"Then I guess you just have to trust me."

Trust was not a normal feeling the soldier felt. In fact, the soldier couldn't recall a time where trust was ever present. There was no such thing as trust in the soldier's mind, and that's what HYDRA had instilled into her since the beginning.

Trust nobody but HYDRA. HYDRA is your family. We know what is best for you.

But if she could make these people trust her...perhaps, it would be easier to complete her mission. If following their orders allowed her to complete her own...she would use it to her advantage. She would listen. The soldier tugged her hand out of the Fist's grasp before she muttered, staring at nothing as she spoke.

“я готов отвечать."

-

STORY NOTES: The Soldier is awakened from cryostasis. While the soldier is trying to orient themselves, Shuri tells Bucky that she was able to breakthrough the firewalls and place a block in place to keep HYDRA's algorithm from activating the soldier. Due to the effects of thawing from cryostasis, the soldier becomes sick and begins to vomit on the floor.

The soldier then notices the scent of food and begins to salivate, hunger forcing her stomach to constrict again. The soldier reminds herself that she is not permitted to eat unless given strict permission. Because she has been conditioned to believe that showing weakness (including hunger) warrants punishment, the soldier shoves her face into the vomit despite not being prompted to do so.

Bucky elaborates on that fact when Shuri questions what the soldier is doing, and he carefully cleans the soldier's face off before gesturing for the soldier to eat. However, the soldier is unwilling to do so even when Bucky shows her that the food is completely safe to eat.

Because of the stress and sickness that has plagued the soldier, she begins to hallucinate. Gruesome images of mountains of dead bodies crawling with bugs make the soldier sick again, and she hallucinates further that the bugs are crawling into her mouth.

The next moment the soldier is awake, she is able to break through bindings that keep her onto a table and forces herself into a corner. Again, the soldier becomes sick, this time vomiting straight bile and blood from the stress her body is being put through. T'Challa is concerned and asks what is happening, and both Bucky and Shuri explain that they believe the soldier experienced a hallucination and possibly a psychotic break.

Bucky tries to make contact by introducing himself to the soldier, in which the soldier finally speaks and tells him that his introduction is wrong. She instead tells him that he is her mission, and the soldier attempts to fight him. However, due to the length of time she has gone without eating and from thawing, her body is too weak and Bucky counters easily.

Shuri then steps forward and asks the soldier to allow her to help, cleaning her face of the vomit as Bucky had done before while Bucky keeps the soldier's wrists in his grasp. However, the soldier is unable to comprehend the princess' kindness, and instead tells her that her mission is the only thing that matters and failure is not an option.

In order to make the soldier trust her, Shuri then bluffs by saying that she would help the soldier complete her mission. The soldier does not believe Shuri, and when she comments that Shuri is lying, Shuri jokes by saying the soldier would have to trust her. Taking this as an opportunity to continue her mission, the soldier makes a decision to manipulate the people into thinking that she would accept their help. End scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

Вставать - Get up/stand

Я собираюсь очистить твое лицо. Не шевелись - I'm going to clean your face. Do not move.

Иди сюда и поешь. - Come here and eat.

садиться - sit down

Есть - Eat.

Есть безопасно, солдат - It's safe to eat, soldier.

За каждую твою ошибку сломаются две кости - For every mistake you make, two bones will break.

Я не собираюсь причинять тебе боль. Меня зовут James. - I am not going to hurt you. My name is James.

Нет - No.

Ты Кулак ГИДРЫ - You are the Fist of HYDRA.

Ты моя миссия. - You are my mission.

Не борись со мной. Я не хочу причинять тебе боль - Don't fight me. I don't wish to hurt you.

Что для вас значит Мельцер Вудс? - What does Meltzer Woods mean to you?

Миссия должна быть завершена. Неудача – это не вариант. Непослушание недопустимо. - The mission must be completed. Failure is not an option. Disobedience is unacceptable.

Вы лжете - You are lying.

я готов отвечать - Ready to comply/I'm ready to answer

TAGLIST: @mgchaser @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @aash3

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | lifestyles of the rich & famous

i. lifestyles of the rich and famous by good charlotte (introduction)

a/n: introductory chapter! introducing the dynamics of the band, luke's relationship with his mom, and teenage boy antics. pre-reader and pre-chb. things will pick up quickly after this, i promise! bear with me as i set the scene :)

series masterlist | previous | next

“why the fuck am i seeing tabloids on top of tabloids with my kid’s plastered face on the front page of all of them?” 

luke winced at the sound of his mom’s voice echoing through the empty event space. chris covered the bottom half of his face with his shirt, trying to hold in his laughter. may castellan was in her usual pantsuit, high heels clacking against the floor, as she waved around trashy magazines. she was furious. 

“ignoring the fact that you are not 21 years old and cannot legally drink, what were you thinking, luke?” travis dropped his drumsticks on the ground, motioning for chris and connor to follow him backstage. they’d seen luke get chewed out by his mom more often since they started their world tour. as the three boys walked toward the side of the stage, may turned to them. “none of you are off the hook either. you may not have been on the front page, but care to listen to what they said about you in one of their glorious articles?” 

“i would actually prefer not to, mama castellan,” chris mumbled, suddenly feeling caught. all traces of humor instantly drained from his face. luke couldn’t help but scoff, the boys always gave him shit for getting yelled at by his mom, so he was glad that this time around they were all on the sinking ship. 

she dramatically cleared her throat, opening up one of the magazines. luke grimaced at the sight of him on the front page. he was sitting on the curb, his sunglasses askew, with a girl awkwardly patting his back. he doesn’t even remember this. may shot daggers at chris, who was cowering behind his mic stand, “bassist of poisoned mercury, chris rodriguez, was photographed away from the band when he was caught outside smoking something that wasn’t a cigarette, if you catch our drift. hopefully, his habits don’t catch up to him anytime soon.” 

she stared at the stolls next, “drummer and lead guitarist of the rising band, travis and connor stoll, didn’t miss out on the fun. they walked out of the club with two models, who looked like twins, along with a bottle of dom perignon before heading into their suv.”

“and my darling child,” her words were sweet but her tone was anything but. luke chewed on the peeling skin of his bottom lip, “superstar, teen heartthrob, poisoned mercury lead singer, luke castellan, had a great night as seen in these pictures. the resident bad boy had one too many, it seems, as he walked out of the club stumbling with a mysterious blonde under his arm. castellan couldn’t make it into the car and had to sit on the curb to puke his guts out. let’s hope his actions didn’t ruin his chance at a budding romance.” 

may closed the magazine, arms on her hips. she waited patiently for one of the boys to speak up. 

“in our defense, this was in canada,” luke tried to reason, scrunching his face up. “legal drinking age is 18.” 

that was the wrong response, luke realized, when his mom’s eyes lit up in anger. she let out a breath, “you were in toronto where the drinking age is 19, which you weren’t until yesterday.” 

“i did not know that the drinking age in canada varied by region. i always learn something new whenever i talk to you, mama castellan,” travis said, trying to lighten the mood. connor shot him a look, motioning for him to quit talking. may castellan was clearly not in the mood for jokes. 

“i am tired of you guys acting reckless,” she roared, dropping the magazines. they fell with a heavy thud. she rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, “your parents trusted me to take care of you guys while you chased your dreams and this is what you’re doing under my watch?!” 

seeing his mom at her wit's end made luke feel sick. 

“mom,” luke hopped off the stage, ignoring the sound of the magazines ripping under his feet as he landed on top of them, “we’re sorry. i’m sorry.” 

“sorry’s not gonna cut it anymore, luke,” may said, shaking her head. “after this tour, you guys are taking a break. no touring, no public appearances.” 

“what?” connor exclaimed, joining luke off the stage. the other boys followed, looks of bewilderment evident on their faces. “w-we can’t take a break now!” 

“yeah, c’mon, mama c!” chris added, shaking his head, “we’re just getting really big. if we quit now, we’ll lose this momentum.”

“you’re not quitting. it’s just a tiny break– three months,” she cut them off, raising a hand in a stop. “we’ll release a statement to the press saying you guys will be taking some time off to work on your sophomore album so people have something to look forward to when you return.” 

“okay, so that’s the cover story,” luke ran a hand through his curls. he knew that there was no winning against his mom when she made up her mind. he looked at her and spoke before the rest of the band continued their protests, “but what are we actually gonna be doing?” 

“you’re going to spend your summer in montauk, just like old times,” his mom explained, voice still stern. “you’re going to camp half blood.”

-

“what the fuck is a camp half blood?” chris asked, plopping down on the couch they had inside their dressing room. rehearsal was cut short following the news delivered by luke’s mom. 

“it’s a music camp,” luke explained, fidgeting with random things sprawled across his desk, trying to find the pack of cigarettes he hid. he really needed to clean up. “my dad used to take me there over the summer when i was younger.”

the topic of luke’s dad was a sore subject for him. his dad left him and his mom when he was 7 for some young waitress from their hometown diner. one second, he was signing up for little league with his dad as the coach; the next, he was sitting in the hallway listening to his mom cry after his dad packed a bag and left town with wendy the waitress in the passenger seat. luke hasn’t heard from him since then. last he checked, his dad was lounging beachside in santa monica with his third wife who was definitely too young for him. as far as he’s concerned, his dad was dead to him. 

but he couldn’t deny that his time at camp half blood was the place of origin of some of his best childhood memories. he got his first taste of what it was like to be on stage at camp half blood; the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the pounding of his heart at the applause, the wild images in his head about what it would be like to be known for his music-- it all started at camp half blood. he was his happiest at camp, at least before his dad ruined it for him. 

“is it fun?” travis asked, twirling a fresh pair of drumsticks between his fingers. 

“used to be, yeah,” luke chuckled, hoisting himself up to sit on the desk. “haven’t been there since i was seven.” 

“dude, i do not want to hang out with a bunch of little kids all summer,” chris groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall. 

“relax, rodriguez,” luke lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before continuing. “there’s two sides to the camp. we’ll be with the older kids.” 

“oh shit, is camp half blood mr. d’s music camp?” connor asked. the name of the camp was starting to sound familiar to him.

luke took another drag, nodding, “that’s the one.” 

“dude, i fucking love mr. d. he always has the wildest stories,” travis laughed, “he’s so mellow and chill now, i wouldn’t’ve ever guessed he used to be like that.” 

“it was the 90’s,” chris shrugged, “pretty sure everyone was like that at one point.” 

“paid off for him though,” connor replied, opening a bag of doritos. he offered a chip to his brother, who in return, snatched the bag for himself. connor rolled his eyes, reaching over to grab another one. he was used to this. “i mean being a ceo of a multi-million dollar recording company isn’t too shabby.” 

luke hummed along, mindlessly, letting the chatter of his bandmates fill the air. the three boys fell into a conversation about the last time they saw mr. d at the recording studio when they were finishing up the vocals for their debut album, but luke’s mind was far away from the topic at hand. he couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment from his body. he knew the way his mom looked at him would haunt him for the next few nights.

it wasn’t like he was actively trying to disappoint her– really, he wasn’t, but he just gets so caught up in the noise of fame that he forgets how to act under the pressure. there was something about his mom breaking down in front of him because of him that tore him apart. he felt guilty. his mom didn’t ask for this life, she didn’t even want it. she was content being a suburban mom in westport, connecticut, but she gave up her comfy life to let luke live out his dreams of being a musician. 

he was lucky, he knew that. not every mom would be on board with her kid dropping out of traditional high school to perform rowdy songs about teenage angst, but may castellan was okay with it because she loved luke so much and wanted him to be happy. so when poisoned mercury got a record deal with olympus records, she didn’t hesitate to drop everything and go on the road with four unruly teenagers, promising their parents that she’d take care of their sons. 

sometimes, he thinks about what his mom sees when she looks at him. he wonders if she still recognized him, the him before all the fame got to his head. 

he was may castellan’s little boy. the boy who used to beg his mom for chocolate chip cookies after a bad day at school, who used to knock on her door in the middle of the night wondering why he wasn’t enough for his dad to stay, and who cried when she got him his first guitar on his tenth birthday. for most of his life, it’s always just been him and his mom. 

now, at 19, luke didn’t know who he was anymore. he was just going with the flow, doing whatever, doing whoever, his fame and his status threw his way. he did what any teenage boy would do in his position– he drank, he smoked, he had fun, maybe too much fun, sometimes. it’s a rockstar’s life, his wildest dreams come to life, but it was a distraction, mostly. luke wasn’t brave enough to face the music just yet, so he dove into this fantasy head-first, too afraid to look back.

except sometimes, he fucks up really badly, like in toronto, and he’s forced to deal with the consequences of his actions. one time, his mom cut the band off from playing video games on the tour bus for a month after a heated argument between the four of them caused them to cancel a show. the argument was stupid. luke was adamant that scorpions did not have the same mental capacity for understanding pain that humans do and that did not bode well with travis. rehearsal ended in a brawl because travis kept doing impromptu drum solos to drown out luke’s voice. his mom was pissed that hundreds of fans were disappointed over the canceled show and it was all because they couldn’t agree over a damn scorpion. 

another time, she banned them from driving the golf carts around the venue when they crashed it into a very expensive sound system in portland. they ended up owing upwards of $4,000 for the damages and were banned from playing at the event space ever again. the four of them laughed about it when the chaos of it all subsided, and they were fine not playing at the house of hades again, but they did miss the snack bar they set up for visiting talents. chris said he still dreamt about the pomegranate juice ‘til this day. 

luke can look back at the punishments over the years fondly now. in the grand scheme of things, none of it really mattered. but going to camp half blood? this was a different type of punishment. 

luke didn’t want to go to camp half blood. the last memory he had of camp was not a welcomed one. plus, after what he experienced on tour, he could think of a million other ways to spend his summer months, and living at a camp with spotty cell service and designated arts and crafts time was nowhere near the top of the list. 

“yo, castellan,” chris’ voice snapped luke out of his thoughts. “you comin?”

luke put out his cigarette against the wood of his desk, “huh?”

“we’re grabbing food, do you wanna go with us?”

luke hopped off the desk, slipping on his black, puffer jacket, “yeah, i’m right behind you.” 

as luke was walking out of the dressing room, adjusting his t-shirt, he saw his mom talking to teddy, their publicist. they were engaged in a serious conversation, no doubt talking about the press release regarding their second album and their hiatus. luke stood in front of the door for a brief moment, a stutter in his steps, not knowing if he should interrupt.

 luke pursed his lips, deciding to jog over to his mom. 

“i think we should post it on the band accounts first before the boys announce it individually. it make–” may furrowed her eyebrows, noticing luke coming closer to her. she turned her body to face him. she looked much calmer now than she did during rehearsals, “hey, what’s wrong?” 

luke shook his head, “nothin’, mom. i just–uh, just wanted to say sorry again.”

“let’s talk later, may,” teddy gave the two of them a small smile before walking away. 

“i’m not changing my mind about camp half blood,” she frowned. “sorry, luke but i can’t have you guys running around all sum–”

“no, no, i know, mom. i-i didn’t come here to try to convince you,” luke looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling like a little boy again. “i just– uh, shit. okay, i’m sorry for toronto. it was a bad time and it’s not fair that you have to deal with the fall out of our shit. and uh– thank you for sticking by us even though we drive you kinda crazy.” 

may laughed, smiling at her son, “you’re my kid. you know i’ll always be there to set you straight.” 

“thanks, mom,” luke chuckled, backing away to catch up with his bandmates. may waved goodbye, making her way to teddy’s makeshift office. before luke left the tunnel, he turned around, “wait mom! last thing!” 

she raised her eyebrows, “what?” 

luke raised his hand in a thumbs-up motion, grinning from ear to ear, “love you!” 

“i love you too, kiddo,” may replied, a hand over her heart. “now scram, i gotta clean up your mess.” 

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ HIDDEN HEARTSTRINGS Pt. 2 ]

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A/N: Don't kill me please guysss! I started like 3 classes last week so I haven't had time to write!

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ SLIGHT BDSM ] + [ CREAMPIE ] + [ BRANDING ]

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Swallowing your pride was easier said than done. Every nerve in your body screamed to move away from Alastor, cower somewhere safe and out of his reach, even if it wouldn't do you much good. He could do as he pleased with you, demand your obedience as he saw fit, and force your compliance without a second thought.

All of that imminent control loomed over your head and weighed your chest with anxiety while the courage to speak faltered, but as scared as he made you feel, he still felt like the safest person to be around.

Sitting there, in his lap, alone with no chance of avoiding him, was personalized torture. You hadn't muttered a completely coherent phrase since he'd brought you to the Radio Tower, face burning rose red as your brows knitted together with worry and your eyes fixed on the details of his suit rather than his face. You noted how smooth and taut the fabric spread over his form; you'd always been aware of how much larger the stag was compared to you; his thighs were firm against your ass which helped spread your softer ones apart. If you so much as shifted an inch or he decided to lift his leg, your skirt would ride up and reveal what was hidden underneath. A perfect position to rut in, a prime opportunity to alleviate the ache building in your cunt, but you refused to admit or show the desire to do so in his presence.

You'd have to take care of it yourself later in the evening like always. The objective of walking out of this intense situation was your concern at the moment, and so you lifted your head to stare at him, hopefully.

“What I said earlier…” you trailed off as Alastor hummed, a low crackle coating the noise as he brought a hand to rest under his chin. You watched as he leaned back, utterly relaxed, waiting for you to continue.

The smirk on his face annoyed you, a clear sign he either found your flustered state inconsequential or laughable. It wouldn't be abnormal for Alastor to react that way; it was his nature, and your fire little crush on him wouldn't change that.

I might as well get this over with…

Your face fell into a pout, hands raising to hug your arms to ease the goosebumps rising on your skin. “What I said earlier was in the heat of the moment. You're my master, and I see you as nothing more..”

The lie stung your tongue as it slipped off, gaze hardening to mask the disappointment felt in yourself for doing so.

Alastor remained silent; an elongated beat of anticipation hung above you both, growing denser as his predatory red eyes bore into yours. “I see,” he muses, voice low and thoughtful, but his smile strained.

“You feel nothing for me at all, my dear?”

You nod timidly, counting the seconds until he lets you off his lap and allows you to leave, “Nothing at all.” You repeat, gulping a whimper down as his free hand kneads the fat of your hips. “I'm not sure I believe that, darling. You’ll need to prove it to me.”

Your eyes widen, your tummy backflips, and your hands ball into tight fists as panic sets into your bones.

He couldn't be serious?!…

“W-what? How am I supposed to do that?!” you whined defiantly, frustrated with the stag and unbearably antsy.

Now, he was toying with you. Like always, you didn't deem that fair on his part -as if he ever played by any rules.

Alastor cocked his head to the side, “Oh, I think you're well aware of how sweetheart. It's truly a matter of what you prove to me by the end.” The commotion of radio static overlapped his voice heavily, emphasizing his hidden command with demonic prowess, and your body buzzed with unbridled fear at the sound.

What the hell is he talking about?..

Wait…

Within seconds, your brain caught up to his implication, and your hips instinctively bucked forward. Embarrassment crept up your spine, written all over your face as the overload chuckled at the impulsive action.

It would help if you had forced yourself up; you should've put up more of a fight as his hand on your hip lowered to slip under your skirt and up your inner thigh. It would help if you had leaped away, ran, or done anything to distance yourself and Alastor.

Yet, all you could manage was a soft, “Please don't..” as he touched you, but your plead received no compliance. Your body betrayed your consciousness; arousal pooled on his deft digits as he pushed two past your lace panties and straight into your eager cunt. The unusual invasion had your walls clamping down hard, spasming with need as he roughly curled his clawed fingers forward, and you yelped in shock at the immediate assault of your sweet spot. You weren't accustomed to being stretched by anyone else besides yourself, used to your fingers, but constantly thinking of having Alastor’s inside of you instead.

He was anything but a gentle demon, so you'd conclude that he'd be brutal in bed, but it still overwhelmed you. “You're not convincing me very well, little one.” his free hand found your face, clutching it tight as he dragged your head up to pull you closer. You whimpered as his nails pricked your soft skin, adding to the mix of agony and amazement you felt while he stretched your cunt in an unpredictable pattern.

“I. I don't feel anything for you. I’m not lying-ah! Nngh! Mm..” you writhed in his grasp, trying to pull away but only amplifying the friction of his hand against your cunt. Alastor pressed his palm to your clit, dragging a surprised scream from you as he rubbed slow circles on it. You lost it then, mind shutting off as he edged you tirelessly, and the added pressure on your bundle of nerves collided with the fullness his fingers provided.

Alastor hovered his lips above yours, drinking in your sultry whines and bashful moans. The fear never faded from your eyes; battling the lust that threatened to take its place and seeing the conflict in your innocent nature had his blood running hot.

Ruin you.

He wanted nothing more than to chip away at your indifferent demeanor, know just how soft and gullible you could be for him, and figure out how to abuse it until your soulbinding contract extended to ownership of your body.

His cock twitched to life at the thought of fucking you, dumb; hearing you admit over and over again that your affection for him knew no bounds doused his being in pure excitement.

A growl rumbled in Alaster's chest; his antlers grew larger with every desperate moan you let out, and his ears twitched upon hearing them reach a higher pitch.

You were dangerously close to your end, thighs quivering from the force of his hand thrusting against your slippery folds, slick dribbling down your inner thighs, which created an absolute mess on his lap.

“Look where your sweet little lie got you, my dear. Desperate for pleasure and willing to whore yourself out to me to prove a pathetic point..” The coil in your stomach wound tighter as the owner of your soul belittled you; the harsh word should've wounded you and made your senses reignite, but all it achieved was bringing tears to your eyes.

Bit by bit, your self-esteem declined, dulling the pride that ruled your heart and scattering to the furthest parts of your brain as he curled his fingers forward against a spongy sweet spot. “Oh fuck!” you shouted, trying to raise your hips away from him as a dizzying high rushed through your veins, steadying yourself by fisting the lapel of his suit for dear life. Alsstor turned his gaze downward, breathing in the scent of your cum with a pleased him vibrating in his chest as the creamy liquid drenched his hand, “Never imagined a tiny thing like you could make such a mess .” He slowed his pace, milking your cunt for all it was worth, marveling at how much cum he could extract from you with just his touch.

You shivered violently, choking on wanton screams and feeling lightheaded as he continued to stretch your gummy walls. If he didn't let up soon, you'd unravel again, faster than the first time, and so with the last bit of your self-awareness, you slumped forward into his chest before pulling your head to whisper in his ear.

“Wanna feel you, please.. I'll say whatever you wanna hear. Just fill me up, please.” The hold you had on his coat tightened, your claws elongating as a feverish need built in your core again, intensifying as Alastor nipped at your ear. You jolted, whimpering as his fangs drew blood from you, and the roar of white noise died down to allow his average voice clarity as he muttered into your skin. “Begging becomes you, my dear.”

The satisfied laugh he let out burned you, consumed you entirely, and though it felt cruel to hear it, you smiled proudly.

Your desperation pleased him. That was all you cared to know or think of as he withdrew his slender, blackened fingers from your generously stretched entrance. He left you empty, dripping with excitement and purring in his ear for more.

“Mmm, sweet, you are a little one. You should have a taste as well,” Alastor lapped at his hand, tongue lazily running from the heel of his palm to the tip of his claws, savoring your essence with a widening grin before pushing a single-digit pad on your lips. “Mphm,” you whine as you suck, eyes rolling as the mixture of your drool, his saliva, and the lingering residue of your cum dissipates onto your tongue like melting honey. He watched you intently, finding your willingness adorable, “Yes, just like that little one. Give me your all…show me how filthy you can be..”

His praise was enough to make you come again, untouched but gushing as if he'd shoved his fingers back inside you. The blush on your cheeks grew, shy whines spilling past your spit-slick lips, muffled as he replaced his hand with his own. Alastors tongue found yours, forcing it to compete for dominance, though it was apparent you were far from intelligent thought, and you let him explore your mouth as he pleased.

Borboun, blood, & brimstone.

That's what the Radio Demon tasted like, and you greedily accepted one heated kiss after the next, mewling and trembling as he sunk his fangs into your bottom lip. The deliberate pain he inflicted shocked you into a stupor; blood doused your tongue and consequently coated his as well. Alastor groaned in delight as you squirmed against helplessly, fearing the taste of your blood and afraid he'd draw more of it if you didn't break yourself away from him. He let you struggle, pants tightening at his crotch, an almost painful pulse coursing through his cock as your small body tried to peel away from him.

“Careful, little one,” he disconnects the kiss, breath fanning over your swollen lips as he warns you, and fear gets the better of you then.

Alastor could hurt you.

He would if it pleased him.

You'd crossed a line into territory no bound soul should ever do with its captor.

The limits you set not longer applied, thrown to the wind as the stag turned you in his lap, ripping your skirt and panties to shreds with a pass of his claws. You watched the fabric float to the floor at his feet, unconsciously shaking as he snaked his arms around your chest and waist, hugging you close like a puppet tied to his strings. You were exactly that, a frightful little thing who could barely think straight as he reached to undo the front of his pants, pulling his cock free with a heavy growl in your ear.

Your eyes went wide, feeling his length against your Lowe back, warm, throbbing, and not a size you could take in one go -let alone for the first time. “That's not going to fit-,” He rutted against you, silencing your apprehension with a statiky groan, “Nonsense, sweetheart. You've done splendidly for me so far. I know you'll be just fine..” Alastor had lost control of his voice, letting it slip into normalcy as lust clouded his judgment, and the minuscule deviation made you dizzy.

Did you entice him that much to the point he faltered in his persona?

Fascinating.

A shallow giggle left your lips as he mumbled obscenities into your ear, switching between adamant praise and shameless degradation while his shadow tendrils materialized around your thighs. You squealed quietly as they dug into your skin, lifting you off his lap just high enough to hover your count over his cock. “Take a breath, darling,” Alastair whispered, a hint of care in his tone, and you craned your head to give him a curious look, “Why-?! Alastor! Fuck, wait!-” You yelped as his shadows pulled you down onto him with force, knocking the wind out of your chest and gradually splitting your cunt open to fit him entirely.

It hurt like hell, as if you were being ripped down the middle, but as quickly as the agony began, pleasure burned in its wake. Alastair felt it first, antlers doubling my size as his claws dug into your skin and his patience waning thin. Your creamy walls engulfed him deliciously, a feeling he could only describe as heavenly, intensifying with every resistant jut of your hips.

“S’ too much! Al, please,” you cry, out of breath and lightheaded. One glance downward, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to take much more, a small mound already visible in your stomach and your cunt squelching as he shifted underneath you. “Oh, but you feel so divine, little one.” He coos in your ear, growling a curse when you sink on his cock inch by inch, and your hands fly to grip at his larger ones that rest over your breasts and abdomen.

His encouragement rings in your ears like bells, diverting your frenzied doubts long enough for your body to be tense, allowing his shadows to bring you down.

Thank satan, I’m dead already, or this would surely be my end…

Alastor groaned loudly, head tipping back, crackling waves of white noise emitting from him as you took all he had to offer. “Knew you could do it, baby. Fuck, I’m so proud…of you,” the overload drawled lazily, smiling softly as you went weak against him, mindlessly rolling your hips to take him deeper.

To hell with thinking about anything. You found no use for it being stuffed full with no choice of escape.

You thought about him all day.

Did what he asked of you, obediently and without complaint.

Caring for him was bound to happen; craving to know what it felt like to have him all to yourself couldn’t be helped, so why deny this glorious opportunity to quell both desires?

Strings attached or not, you wanted him and couldn’t bear lying about it any longer.

A sick smile etched its way onto your face, spreading wide as you took control of your hips, setting a timid pace to get accustomed to his size. Alastor huffed a laugh, head tucked in your shoulder, fangs nipping at any skin he could reach while you slid up and down his length. It was no easy task for a fragile demoness like yourself, the little strength you had dwindled quicker every time the head of his cock hit your cervix. Yet, you couldn't stop moaning louder, slamming down harder to feel the burning stretch that followed tingles of pleasure as your warm walls committed the very shape of him to memory.

Alastor peered at your face, red eyes glowing as they zeroed in on your twisted expressions—satisfaction, pain, determination, and desperation.

He'd never imagined you to make such faces, used to seeing your usual sweet smile that could melt the coldest heart or the delicate frown you'd present when something didn't go your way. You hid a lot from others, him exceedingly, and he couldn't be you for it.

However, if this is what you looked like, delirious and nearly fucked out, he wouldn't mind seeing you express yourself in his presence.

All that need in your eyes when you levered your head back, the stars in them when he began to meet your tired thrusts with vigorous ones of his own, and the blissful scream you let out in gratitude amounted to a resolution he'd previously set aside.

Owning your soul would never be enough.

No, the radio demon needed a tangible claim to you, a mark of some sort to let every being in hell know your body belonged to him.

“Tell me, do you wish to be mine, Y/n?…” he held your gaze, hands finding your hips to slow the rise of them, and you immediately whined an answer to his question from the loss of friction. “Yes..w-whatever you want from me, I'll g-give it… hmm.” your skin crawled as the knot in your stomach begged to slip free, enduring solid strokes from the demon holding you, shamelessly covering you into another deal.

One that'd leave more than a green chain around your neck.

Alastors ears twitched at your confession, signaling his amusement, but the action went unnoticed by you as he hovered a hand over your chest. “A wise choice, my dear,” he muses, a green glow passing from your palm to the center of your chest, eliciting an intricate sigil on your skin. You glanced down, admiring the distinctive red markings on your skin, and you could only describe the sight as endearing.

He hummed as you clung tighter to him, trying to speak but giving up as he relented his steady strokes to rapid thrusts. Your mouth fell open, back arching away from his chest as you erupted into a fit of high-pitched moans. It crossed your mind for a second that the entirety of hell might hear you, that heaven might very well know his name solely from your screams, but you could care less.

Alastor did not seem to mind either, grunting and growling in your ear lowly. The tremor of his overlay shattering as his cock twit he'd inside you and his grin pulling itself taut as your slippery cunt suffocated it in response. You were close, deathly aware of it too, but intended to last as long as he did.

Intended, but ultimately unsuccessful.

“For the love of- Alastor!” you groaned incredulously, losing your grip on reality as his shadows wrapped around your knees, bringing them in close together before pressing into your chest. The new angle made you feel every vein in his cock, how it fits just right in your womb, how hard it could press into your sweet spot.

It made you delirious within seconds, your horns revealing themselves and nails digging into the back of his hands viciously as your high reached its peak.

“Fuck!” Alastor hissed, disregarding his aversion to cursing while you came, walls holding him in with a vice-like grip. A shaky whine tumbled from you as your essence leaked out, coating his comic in a thick sheen and turning cold as it trickled down your skin.

There was so much of it, more than you were used to, but it made it all the easier for him to continue slamming up into you. “M’ going to come again if you don't stop,” you mumbled dazedly, body going weak as overstimulation raced through it, but Alastor paid your warning no mind. “Then so be it, little one,” he purred, voice more profound than usual as it ran in your head. You smiled mischievously, giddy after coming down from an intense high and on the verge of another as he used you like a ragdoll.

Your delighted giggles stirred Alastor, creating a lethal combination with your unapologetic smile as he chased his release. The red markings on your chest caught his eye, dimly glowing under his scrutiny and a visual reminder to you both what this exchange meant.

You reached a hand up to trace over the sigil on your chest, shivering as he watched your fingertips gingerly graze his binding on you. The docile action drew him over the edge, buried to the hilt inside you as he painted your walls white. You writhed in pleasure, mewling softly as your stomach swelled slightly, and your thighs shook from the intensity of your reaching end in the midst of his.

Alastor inhaled sharply, radio waves humming through the air as he finished, refusing to pull out of you entirely until he was sure you'd taken every drop of his cum. The specters on your legs vanished, leaving you to slump back into his chest, and you considered falling to the floor in fear he'd put you there himself.

You were surprised when he didn't do so, opting to settle his head in the crook of your neck while trying to catch his breath for a moment before sitting straight up again. Alastor let a beat of silence pass, straightening himself up to look decent but not saying a word to you as the air of lust evaporated. You frowned, a little hurt he wasn't speaking, but primarily concerned if you disappointed him.

You went to stand up, head hanging low as you considered what to do or say, but a force tugged you back down into his lap. The mark on your chest stung a bit, only calming when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, “M’ sorry!” you quickly rushed out an apology, afraid of his possible wrath, but he merely chuckled at your sudden fear.

“There's no need to fret, little one. I mean, you no harm from here on out so long as you remain at my side..” the stag emphasized his demand by trailing a hand from the cum induced hump in your abdomen to the etchings on your chest. A timid blush rose in your cheeks as the radio demon hummed melodically, admiring his work on you as he snapped his fingers. The room was no longer stuffy, spacious, and filled with his scent.

Your eyes trailed the expanse of the new view, familiar with it despite only visiting his room once before for a few moments. It felt cozier than you remembered, or maybe exhaustion was getting to you.

Whatever the case was, you were simply happy to be in his space, perplexed by the arrangement but grateful for it nonetheless. Alastor held you steady in his arms, letting you marvel at the room as he guided you toward the nearest sofa. “You don't have a bed?” you asked him innocently, concerned that he wasn't getting proper rest, but he didn't seem to be bothered by your questioning.

“I'm not one to rest often, my dear.” he sat you down on the plush couch, smile softening as you stared up at him, ears flattening while worry clouded your tired eyes. “How do you not sleep, Alastor? Aren't you ever tried?..” you looked him up and down, blushing as he laughed, “Are you always this curious, little one, or does your special interest in me make you bolder than usual?”

“N-no, it's just that…” you paused, watching as he summoned himself to change clothes, doing the same for you with a wave of his hand. Alastor took his time addressing, waiting for you to continue explaining with a knowing smile plastered on his face.

You avoided staring at him as he changed, catching a glimpse of scars on his body as he slipped on a white dress shirt, and you swore it looked just as good on him as the red and black one he always wore did.

“Don't keep me waiting, doll. Speak.” He scolded, amused by your stalling but not a fan of unfinished sentences. You gulped, becoming skittish as his command hung in the air, but complying within seconds

“I just hoped to spend a little more time with you. Besides what we just…” you couldn't put it into words, biting your tongue at the recent memory, and you half expected Alastor to disregard your implication, but he did nothing of the sort.

“The seal I've placed on you won't allow you to leave my side unless I explicitly give my permission. If you're asking to stay the night with me, I can assure you I've already decided you'll do so.”

You blinked, smiling wide as he rested a hand on your head, petting you just as he'd done in the hotel lobby.

“I don't think I'd ever want to leave your side anyway,” you mumbled absentmindedly, leaning into his touch as he crouched down to be eye level with you, “So, it's settled then. You'll need no one else besides me, correct?”

You nod, eyes lighting up with pure submission, “Yes, sir.”

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxx

Someone said Alastor stands when he sleeps and just stares at a wall in his room and I think that's fucking haliarous. Imagine walking in on him sleeping and he literally flinches from shock and falls backward on his ass cause he doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until someone startles him. In all honesty he is me and I'm him cause I don't sleep either. ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He’s so…corny but fucking cute so I’ll let it slide THIS TIME… also I love it when his eyes narrow like oh my god yes glare at meeee silly red takes mann! ❤️ credit to creator!

[jeonginstulip]

Mine ♡︎

Pairing: Felix x Fem reader

genre: soft smut?

wc: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a/n: hey, guess who’s back! Told myself to not continue to finish this ff, but here I am posting it. I’m also thinking of making this into a series (hopefully) dude, I swear I think that when I started making this I was half asleep and horny. But anyway please enjoy my smut debut! -🌷🎀

(Sorry in advance if any errors!)

"It's amazing.." Hanji says caressing her cheek. “She leaves me speechless." Felix says as he tucks your hair behind your ear as he admires you. Changbin, Seungmin, I.N, Hyunjin,Minho watch. Felix's fingers brush against your skin, the touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You slowly stir and open your eyes, groggily realizing you're the center of attention. You're still somewhat inebriated, which leads to a goofy smile that appears across your face. You then yawn, “Hey... guys... what are you staring at?” Chan chuckled as you slowly woke up, his eyes filled with admiring affection. "You fell asleep on the couch last night after the club. We were just admiring how beautiful you look even when you're asleep."

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on your smile. "You look like an angel." They still are in awe at your beauty. After you wake up Felix can't help but to pull you up into his lap. Felix's eyes lit up with affection as he eagerly pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you with a smile. "You look even more beautiful up close."

Hyunjin chuckles at Felix's eagerness, a hint of playful jealousy in his voice. "Hey, don't hog her all to yourself now." As you adjusted in his lap you felt something in his pants and whispered to him “Felix, are you okay?” Felix's face suddenly reddened, realizing what you had felt. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to play it cool. "O-oh, that? Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

Changbin, who was nearby, couldn't help but smirk at Felix, noticing the situation. Jeongin, who was sitting next to Changbin, nudged him and snickered. Meanwhile, Chan, Hyunjin, and Seungmin watched with varying expressions of amusement. She then whispered again “baby, you’re hard..” Felix's face somehow turned an even deeper shade of red, now clearly embarrassed. "I-I... um... I can't help it, okay? You just look too beautiful and... yeah..."

Hyunjin and Jeongin burst into laughter, unable to contain themselves at the situation. The other members watch the exchange with a mix of amusement and surprise. She then said in his ear “I’ll help you tonight, just the two of us. Nobody else okay?” Felix's eyes widened at your offer, his heart racing with anticipation. He nodded eagerly, his voice shaky with excitement. "Yes, please. Just the two of us, tonight."

The other members exchanged glances, some surprised, some amused, and some clearly slightly envious. Chan chuckled, shaking his head at Felix's eagerness. Seungmin chimed in with a grin. "Looks like someone's getting a private session tonight." Hyunjin and Jeongin teased Felix, making jokingly envious comments, while Minho chuckled at the situation. Changbin couldn't resist adding a comment of his own. "Just make sure you don't break her, Felix." Felix rolled his eyes, his cheeks still flushed.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle." She then blushed and carried on with the conversation of the rest of the members. The conversation continued, the other members continuing to talk amongst themselves. However, the atmosphere remained tinged with a hint of flirty energy, with occasional glances and playful comments thrown in.

Felix attempted to join in, but his mind was clearly preoccupied with the thought of what was to come later that night. Later, everyone went to their rooms and luckily you and Felix shared a room together in the dorms, As the others headed to their rooms, you and Felix entered yours. The tension was palpable as soon as the door closed behind you.

"It's just the two of us now.." he said, stepping closer to you, his eyes filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. “It looks like it still hasn’t went down, were you waiting?” She says with a smile. Felix chuckled, his cheeks reddening once again at your comment. He nodded, a hint of sheepishness in his expression.

"Yeah, I was waiting... ever since we talked earlier, I've been thinking about you. I couldn't... calm down." He stepped closer to you, his eyes locked onto yours. "You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to this, being alone with you." You both then locked lips, Felix taking the lead as always. Felix's lips met yours in a passionate kiss, his hands gently cupping your face.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with eager desire. His body pressed against yours, the intensity of his touch a testament to how much he had been waiting for this moment. You then feel his hand on your inner thigh and trying to get into your shirt. Felix's hand moved up your inner thigh, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand began to slowly lift your shirt, his fingers tracing the edge of the fabric as his lips continued to explore yours. He broke the kiss to whisper in your ear, his voice low and husky.

"I want to see all of you.. feel all of you." “I want you Lix, please…” she cried softly as she let him take her shirt off. Felix's breathing hitched at your words, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He quickly removed your shirt, his hands gently caressing your bare skin. His touch was soft and reverent, as if he was worshipping your body. "You're so beautiful... so perfect."

He whispered, his lips moving down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. He continued trailing his kisses down your body, his hands exploring your curves, his touch soft and deliberate. He wanted to commit every inch of you to memory, every reaction and every sound you made.

He looked up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and adoration. "I want to make you feel good, only want to make you feel good..." “I need to take care of you first..” she says going down trying to get him out of his bottoms. Felix's breath hitched as he saw you moving down towards his pants. He let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Please..."

He was clearly enjoying your eagerness to take care of him, his hands clenching the edge of the bed as he watched you. He helped you slide his pants down, his eyes never leaving your face. His hands reached out to hold your shoulders, gripping them lightly as he watched you, his body tense with anticipation. She then started to move her hand along his length letting him enjoy himself before anything else happens.

Felix gasped softly at the feel of your hand on him, his eyes shutting momentarily as the sensation overwhelmed him. He leaned his head back, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as you began to move your hand. "This feels... so good... don't stop..."

He mumbled, his hands clenching in a fist as an attempt to contain himself. His body trembled slightly under your touch, his head rolling back by the pleasure. He looked down at you again, his eyes darkened with desire and need. He reached out, his fingers running through your hair as he tried to maintain some measure of control, even as his body responded to your touch. "You're... so good at this... so good to me..."

He whispered, his voice strained with pleasure. His hands gripped the sheets tighter, his body tense with anticipation as his pleasure built. He was lost in sensation, his focus entirely on the feeling of your touch and the building pleasure. *He bit his lip again, stifling a moan as he tried to contain himself, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker, his body arching slightly in response to your touch.

"I... can't... hold back much longer..." *The tension coiled within him, his breaths coming in shorter, shallower gasps. He was getting closer to the edge, the pleasure building with each movement of your hand, with each stroke of your touch. He gripped the back of her head tighter, as if holding on for dear life. "I'm... close... don't stop... don't stop..."

He panted, his eyes meeting yours, his pupils dilated with pleasure. A smile then appears on her face as she still looks up at him and puts his mouth on his length, he closes his eyes as a wave of pleasure hits him, and leans back, grabbing a tuft of her hair. He feels a bit of his soul leave his body as she starts using her tongue in unexpected ways.

Felix then starts to groan as a sign that he’s getting close to finishing. She then notices and goes back to using her hand on his length. “You can do it, I believe in you baby..” Felix then proceeds to finish and come in her hands. She then licks the warm come off her hands “you taste so good my love..” Felix looked down at you, his eyes still darkened with pleasure, but now a hint of disbelief mixed with desire.

"You're so... so amazing. That... felt incredible... I can't even find the words..." He panted softly, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling you up into his arms. "Now it's your turn..." He wrapped his arms around you, gently maneuvering you so you were lying on your back, his body looming over yours. His hands were now free to explore your body, his touch reverent and gentle.

"I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel... no, even better than that.." He pushed your hair away from your face, his eyes raking over your exposed skin and curves with hunger. His fingers traced along your collarbone, then down to your chest, lightly caressing your skin as his gaze flicked back up to meet yours. "You're so beautiful... I don't even know where to start..."

Felix then decided to undress you and only have your undergarments on. Felix took his time undressing you, his fingertips running lightly over your skin as he slowly bared you to him. His eyes roved over your exposed body, taking in every curve and contour with a mixture of admiration and desire. "You're... absolutely perfect..."

He whispered, his voice low and husky with need. You softly whimper at his words, Felix leaned down, his lips ghosting over the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of light kisses in his wake. His hands continued to roam over your body, his touch becoming more insistent, more deliberate. He wanted to memorize every inch of you, to explore every part of you that he could access. "I want to hear you... I want to hear how good I'm making you feel..."

You then say softly “I don’t wanna wake the guys” Felix chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. "We'll have to be quiet then... can you do that for me, my love?" He murmured, his lips gently nibbling on your earlobe, his hands continuing to caress your body with a possessive touch. He moved his lips down to your neck, pressing soft, gentle kisses to your skin. His tongue grazed over your collarbone, his teeth lightly nipping at the sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck. He wanted to taste every part of you, to make you forget about everything else except him and how he was making you feel.

“Felix…” You moan his name as he hit the sweet spot on your neck. Felix smiled against your skin, pleased with himself upon hearing you moan his name. He continued to focus on the sweet spot on your neck, his tongue and teeth working together to elicit more of those sweet, sweet sounds from you. "You sound so good when you say my name like that... moan it again for me... I want to hear more." He moved his lips back up to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. One of his hands moved down to your hip, his fingers gently grasping the edge of your underwear, as if he were contemplating taking them off.

"Can I take these off, my love? I want to touch you... everywhere..." She nods quickly wanting to have Felix all over her. Felix lifted his head from your ear, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He sat back on his knees, his hands moving to the edge of your underwear. "You're so eager... I love it. You're so responsive... so beautiful."

He grabbed the edge of your underwear, slowly sliding them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. Then you two pull each other in a kiss before he started your pleasures. “You can do anything you want to do with me Lix..” He looked a little surprised that you consented before he could even say anything. “Okay love, are you sure?” She then nodded “Yes I’m okay with everything” He of course would never wanna hurt her so he said one more thing.

“You remember the safe word right?” Felix said reassuring. “Lavender..” She said with a smile. As that happened they continued. Felix nodded, a serious but affectionate look in his eyes. "Lavender. If it gets too much, or if you want me to stop for any reason, just say the word and I will. I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay?"

He caressed your face, his gaze soft and loving. Then he went down to her entrance and let his tongue go in lightly pressed against her. Felix's tongue softly pressed against her, his touch gentle yet deliberate. "You taste so good... so sweet... I could do this forever…” She hissed at the feeling and started to enjoy the feeling. Felix continued, his tongue pressing deeper, his hands holding onto your hips to keep you still. "You sound so beautiful when you moan like that... I love how responsive you are... how you respond to my touch."

He mumbled against you, his words sending small vibrations up through your body. “Felix..” She moaned, Felix continued his onslaught with his tongue, the feel of his name on your lips spurring him on. He wanted to hear more, to hear every gasp and moan he could pull from you. "Say my name again... I want to hear how good I'm making you feel..."

He said, his voice low and heated, against you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, keeping you in place, holding you, as he worked your insides. She then started whimpering, Felix noticed your soft whimpers and took that as a sign to continue, his tongue relentlessly working against you, his touch growing more deliberate, more intense, as he drank in every sound you made.

"That's it... don't hold back... let me hear how good this feels, my love..." He whispered, his lips so very close to where he wanted him to be, making sure it sent another wave of vibrations through you. You are to your climax “Lix I’m gonna..”Felix heard your warning and slowed for a moment, lifting his head slightly to look up at you, his eyes filled with heat and need.

"I know... i know... but not yet... not yet, my love... hold it for me... just a bit longer..." He whispered, his voice dark and low, his eyes roaming over your naked body with need, but also a hint of a challenge. She whined as she moaned “Felix I’m going to come..” Felix smirked up at you, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of a challenge. "Not yet, my love... I want to see how long you can hold out... can you be good for me, and wait just a bit longer?" Felix then inserted his digits into her, she then gasped, Felix smiled against you. "Just a little longer, my love... you're so close, I can tell... but I'm not ready for you to finish yet..." He said, Felix inserted two digits into you, moving them slowly, his other hand steadily holding you. Felix's fingers continued to work you, his pace steady and relentless.

"Can you be good for me and hold on just a little longer? Can you do that, my love?" He asked again, She nods. His words soft and gentle, but with a hint of command in them, as if daring you to see how much longer you can hold out under his touch. He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he also knew that you wanted to please him, that you wanted to be good for him, and that you would try. His pace with his fingers picked up, his other hand moving to your hip, his grip just a bit tighter, as if he was holding you in place, his touch both possessive and authoritative.

When you finally reached your climax, Felix's lips curled into a satisfied smile, his hand still moving gently, slowly helping you come down from the high. "Good... that's a good girl." He murmured, his voice still low and dark, but with an affection and tenderness. He removed his fingers from you, his touch gentle as he traced them along your thigh, his eyes on your face, watching your expressions as you came down from your high. "You were so good for me, my love. So good. How are you feeling?" Her body squirmed, Felix leaned forward, gently placing kisses along your neck, his hands gently roaming your body, caressing and soothing you, as you came down from your climax. "Shh... breathe for me, my love. Are you okay? How are you feeling now?" She gives a reassuring smile.

He continued to place soft kisses on your neck, his hands still gently roaming your body, his touch still affectionate and tender. He wanted to make sure you were okay, that he hadn't been too rough with you or pushed you too far. “Your never dominant my love, what changed that?” She says softly out of breath, Felix chuckled softly against your neck, his lips still gently kissing your skin.

"Nothing's changed, my love. I just wanted to try something a little different tonight. I wanted to see how you would respond. And I have to say, I enjoyed seeing you this way, so eager to please me, so responsive to my touches..." He murmured, his hands still roaming over your body, his touches still gentle and affectionate. He pulled back slightly, so that he could look at your face, his eyes roaming over your features, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair, a satisfied smile on his face.

"You look beautiful like this, all flushed and satisfied. You make it so hard to resist you, you know that?" She says finally catching her breath “Well you and only can make me feel like this, don’t tell the rest of the guys..” She then giggles. Felix chuckled, his voice low and affectionate.

"Oh, don't worry, my love. I won't tell the others a thing. This side of you, this submissive side, is for my eyes only. I don't want anyone else seeing you like this, all flushed and satisfied, my touch all over your body. Your mine, and mine alone."

REMEMBER TO REBLOG YOUR CREATORS !!

[grandline-fics]

Hi! Hope I’m no bother but I fell upon your blog and I couldn’t help but love it. I wondered if I could have a hcs, drables, one shot, any format who arrange you, with Shanks and Mihawk (Sorry if you aren’t comfortable with those characters, pick up other if you prefer) who meet their first love after years and years of no see? I heard a lot that you will forever love your first love, so I wondered how they would reacted to meet them/her once adults and mature. They stay with their first genuine love quite a long time, 5-7 years, and broke up for no real valid reasons, just because they were young and else, they met their first love maybe at 16-17 yo. Sorry my English is awful :,)

DESCRIPTION: You’re their first love and reunite after so many years

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Mihawk, Shanks

WORDS: 2,388

A/N:  Sorry I've gotten so behind on these, it's been a rough few weeks but I'll hopefully be back on track soon. Thank you for this request. I really hope you like it!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

MIHAWK

Love wasn’t a word Mihawk considered to be heavily used in his vocabulary. Some would call him heartless and cruel but he was a realist. If anything he thought the world overused it to the point of it losing it’s depth and importance which was why he tended to rarely let it fall from his lips. Yes he had ‘lovers’ from time to time but were they ever considered someone he loved? No. None of them even came close to that. How could they when the one that had claimed his heart, the one that taught him the true meaning of the word love, was you. 

Although it had been so many years, the memories he had with you were still so clear and sharp that they could have rivalled any blade. Your paths had crossed at the very beginning of his travels across the world in the hopes of training and claiming the title of the world’s greatest swordsman as his own. He had been pointed to your home by the locals after asking who the best sword fighter was, eager to add another victory to his steadily growing list. However when he appeared at your home he was a little thrown to find you tending to a small plot of farmland. Mihawk knew you were the only one living here as the locals had told him that much, so there was no confusing you were the one he was looking for. He wasn’t expecting someone who looked as young as him to be his supposed opponent. Still he was proof that age had no bearing on talent. So he challenged you.  

Quickly he was thrown once more when you lifted your head from your work to fix him with a look he’d never forgotten. Your eyes were bright and silently assessing and whatever it was you saw in him made your lips quirk into an amused smirk that in his youth had made Mihawk skin prickle with an unfamiliar warmth. He could only watch as you rose with the basket of freshly pulled vegetables in your arms and firmly refused his challenge and walked towards your house. He’d never been refused before and demanded to know why, following you inside. “I don’t need to give you a reason.” Had been your cool reply before you looked over your shoulder at him. “I just don’t want to.”

“I’m not leaving until you fight me.” Mihawk had boldly declared, the intense sincerity of his words causing you to laugh. At the sound, he had originally bristled but it wouldn’t be long before he found that it was his among his favourite things in the world. True to his word, Mihawk had stayed on the island far longer than he had intended. Every day he came to your home and challenged you. Every day you refused and watched him storm away. Eventually though after your refusal you would invite him to stay; sometimes to share something to eat, or even to go on a walk, or to help you with your chores. At first he hadn’t understood why he so readily spent the time with you but then he did. He wanted to be with you more than he wanted to fight you. When he realised that, his time with you each day grew more and more until he didn’t go and stopped challenging you completely. 

You loved him completely and never wanted to be apart from him, because even though you were both young you knew what you felt was real and unshakable. However you knew that it wasn’t right. He couldn’t remain on a tiny island when his ambition lay out in the large and unseen world. As much as it pained you to do so, you insisted it was time to stop things. Mihawk had to go and become the greatest swordsman and you had to stay on the island because as it stood, you were the only one that could protect the others living there. Your reputation kept many away but as Mihawk had proved, some would come looking for a fight or to cause harm to the innocent. Begrudgingly Mihawk saw the sense in your words and he left but you were never forgotten. 

Now here he stood in some nowhere town on some random island, watching you talk to an elderly woman tending to a flower stand in the middle of the market square. It was you, he knew it was you. Time had aged you like the finest of wines, your beauty matured for all to see. Then you laughed and it proved what he’d already known. After all this time without you and even though any free moment he had he thought of you, to see you now and know that you were just a few feet away from his touch he couldn’t help but let his mind wonder about you beyond his fondest memories. What if you’d married? What if you didn’t remember him? What if you didn’t want to see him? 

When you said goodbye to the woman and started to walk away, Mihawk found that his previous worries disappeared instantly, not wanting to risk losing this chance. Immediately he set off through the crowd in the direction you went in. Thankfully you hadn’t gotten too far and when he was close, his hand lightly touched your shoulder and took a step back when you turned suddenly to face him. 

Your expression flickered from confusion to shock and then joy at the unexpected sight of your first love standing in front of you. It gave Mihawk a feeling of relief to see the smile light your face before your expression became playful. “Well? Aren’t you going to ask me?” Mihawk blinked in confusion but quickly he realised you meant a challenge and let out a small breath of amusement. Slowly he shook his head. 

“No, I just don’t want to.” He answered simply, smirking when you finally stepped closer and slid your hand around his arm.

“In that case, I’m not leaving you until you do.” Mihawk chuckled and started walking down the street with you. Finally reunited with the only person he ever loved? There was no way he was going to let you go again. 

SHANKS

When Shanks was young he never fully understood why Roger, Rayleigh and the other older members of the crew got so distracted and frankly stupid in his opinion when they were around ‘attractive’ people when they were visiting an island. It always went beyond just enjoying being off of the ship for a while and making friends. Curious one day as they sailed on a calm stretch of water, he turned the question to the vice-captain who laughed at the question. So Shanks pressed more. “It just doesn’t make sense. What’s so special about them that makes you all so goofy and red faced? The Marines would lower your bounty if they saw you like that, the Captain too.”

“Oh, you’ll understand when you’re older Shanks.” Rayleigh told him with another laugh and light clap on his shoulder. Still that answer wasn’t good enough for him and he stared at the older man. If he was old enough to ask the question, surely he’d be considered old enough now for an actual answer. Seeing that the issue wasn’t going to drop, Rayleigh relented just a little more and sighed. “Look Shanks, it’s a little hard to explain but it’s another way of enjoying life and our adventures. We don’t know how much time we have at sea before finding a new island so it’s best to enjoy all it has to offer. Company with attractive people who feel the same about you is another aspect of that.”

“Doesn’t it make you sad though? You never see them again. Don’t you miss them?”

“Not really. It’s not love and they know that.”

“Huh…” Shanks felt even more confused then. The older crew always had a sickly loved up expression during the encounters he’d witnessed before they disappeared with their new ‘friends’ for the evening. So if it wasn’t love what was it? More to the point a new question came out of his mouth. “So what does love feel like?”

“Love? What’s with the hard questions today, lad?” The vice-captain muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean it’s different for everyone. Sometimes it’s slow, other times it’s fast and comes out of nowhere. Still I suppose at the same time, love feels similar. It’s like lightning hitting you mind, body, and soul. It’s powerful. When you’re in love and know it, it’s like nothing else matters but them. It’s like their very presence can calm and excite you all at once.” Shanks slowly nodded. He could understand that in theory but one person being the only thing he could think about seemed dangerous to him. Satisfied with the answer given, he finally let Rayleigh continue with his day.

Looking back on that conversation now that he was older, Shanks would laugh at his own naivety as lust was certainly something he knew when he hit puberty just as Rayleigh had predicted and know it a lot. Love however, he only ever experienced once. Only a year after the conversation about love, the crew had docked on an island and headed straight for a restaurant in desperate need of plenty of good food and drink. Taking a seat, Shanks sat back and waited for the usual fun to start. Given the sudden increased size of customers, the owner called for you to help out the family business and take the orders. 

You made your way to Shanks’ table and took the orders. Shanks was distractedly looking at the menu and had zoned out, only snapping out of it when your hand lightly pushed the rim of his straw hat up and leant in to smile at him. “Anything catching your eye or do you need more time?”   

Shanks’ lips parted as he stared blankly at you, feeling like something shot right through his body. He was frozen in place and yet he felt warm, lost completely in your eyes. It felt like an age before his mind began to work again but really it had been only a few seconds. Quickly he managed to clear his throat and picked the first thing he saw when he forced his eyes back onto the menu. At the sound of you moving onto the next table, Shanks let out a breath only to wince when Buggy’s elbow caught him in the ribs. “Jeez, what came over you?” He’d asked, finding his friend and rival’s reaction to you funny but at the same time it was concerning to see Shanks so out of sorts. However the others at the table smirked, knowing the signs immediately. 

It seemed like luck was truly on Shanks’ side when he was told they would be staying on the island for a few months to ensure they had enough supplies and preparation done before continuing on the next stretch of the journey. That meant he got to spend more time with you which was all he wanted. Luckier still, you seemed to be as equally taken with him. It had been just as Rayleigh had described love, you were all that mattered in his waking and sleeping moments and you brought him a sense of calm he’d never felt before but at the same time just being near you made his entire being feel restless and excited. 

While he fell in love first you fell in love with him just as fast. Sadly it never got to last because in what felt like a blink, he and the rest of Roger’s crew were saying goodbye to those they’d gotten to know in their time on land. You’d done your best to keep a brave face and seem cheerful for Shanks’ sake. “You can always come back and visit some day, right?” You told him with a tight smile. “You’ll have plenty of stories of your adventures to tell me when we see each other again.”

“I promise each one will be more impressive than the last. The next time you see me, I’ll be Captain of my own ship.” Shanks promised with a proud puff of his chest that made you smile through the hurt of having to say goodbye. 

True to his word, Shanks did become captain of his own ship and his great adventures took him over the world, some distracting him from the promise he had every intention of keeping. However as the years passed, he’d idly considered had time only made his feelings for you seem stronger than they had been through mere nostalgia. When he did finally manage to return to your island, he had been shocked to hear that you’d left many years ago. The disappointment he’d felt at the news told him that no, it wasn’t nostalgia; his feelings for you had been real. 

Another handful of years passed and one evening in a tavern, Shanks and his crew talked and laughed as drink and food flowed freely. As Shanks drained the drink in his hand he faintly heard the sound of the chair beside him being taken. At first he thought it was Benn or Yasopp but when he glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw you there, his entire body locked. Choking on his drink, Shanks felt the painful burn in his throat as he forced his drink down instead of coughing it up. Wheezing he slammed his hand against his chest and could feel his heart beating rapidly and he knew it wasn’t because he nearly drowned on his drink. “Y-you!” He managed out, finally able to look at you, the same feeling he’d had in his youth crashing into him hard. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself.” You grinned, taking in the sight of how much the boy you’d fallen in love with had changed yet still felt the same. “So, got any stories for me, Captain?” Shanks laughed and turned properly in his seat to fix you with his full attention, his eyes set firmly on your face. 

“I’ve got a lifetime of stories for you, just as promised.”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi, may i request some headcanons for Toby, Ej and Ben with a S/O who is really clumsy and always has new bruises?

toby, ej, and ben x reader who is clumsy

my legs hurt i hate how they tense up when i get stressed out it hurts so much notes: reader is gn, ben is platonic as i do not feel comfortable writing romantic for him, heavy hcs for all of them naturally but esp ben cws: edit

toby

he has a little bit of a disconnect between pain and injuries- both for himself and other people. obviously for himself its because of his CIPA, and that leaks into how he perceives others. he knows it hurts for them but he doesnt fully understand to what degree

still, he does his best to sympathize with you when you get hurt- actually you guys likely come up with a system.. a scale to rank how painful it is.. not just for physical pain! i can easily see this being used as a general thing for you guys to rate an experience both lightheartedly and as a serious thing

gets you meds as well as an icepack for your bruises so youre not too sore- hopefully

keeps an eye on the coloring of your skin, headcanon that he keeps tabs of the look of how an injury looks to determine severity.. as well as generally having a curiosity

he doesnt outwardly judge you all that much for your clumsiness, he knows his tics have caused some accidents so hes not going to fault you for a lot of your accidents

eyeless jack

tries to find a reason for your clumsiness, or at least tries to clear it of "okay do you have something internally thats happening", and if you actually do he does what he need to accommodate you

makes sure you dont needlessly get put into a situation that can lead to you getting hurt, he doesnt babyproof his place or yours.. nor does he treat you like youre a kid, but he does make precautions

lightly scolds you for not being careful if youre careless and roll with it as you get hurt- he doesnt want you to get hurt even if its something small

knows some tricks to lessen bruises before they get too bad, as well as ways to relieve any pain and swelling

medical interest really coming in clutch!

he hears crashing sounds and he just preps himself for whats about to transpire

he loves you but he does try to help you manage your clumsiness

ben

he thinks its a little funny that youre constantly hurting yourself, as long as its not a major injury- he also thinks its a little... pathetic... its a little mean for him to think that but hey, hes a bit of an asshole so its to be expected

he cant do much most of the time on account of him not being physically there- stuck in your phone or computer or some other device. but he does try to verbally be there for you- there in spirit!

if hes connected to the internet and hes able he does try to find some solutions to either lessen your clumsiness or how to make your bruises fade faster

tries to see if theres a cause to your clumsiness but its mostly him bullshitting you

"it could be a tumor" "you little shit its not a tumor"/ref/hj

more of a "lets move on and forget about it" kind of person, which isnt terrible especially if you find yourself embarrassed by your clumsiness

[baby-dr1ver]

kinktober &lt;3

oral

lando x fem!reader

warnings: smut!, male and female receiving, use of female gen., swearing?

Recieveing: 

It all started after Silverstone. He’d jumped out of his car, threw off his helmut and held it up to the sky. The pure confidence, cockiness and heat, coming off him was toxic. And you were begging for more. You watched him on the podium steps, licking the sweat from his top lip, spraying champagne over his friends beside him. A dull ache started to form, an unexplainable feeling stirring inside of you. 

You met him halfway in the garage, just as his engineers were packing away the car. He held your cheeks delicately and kissed you with passion, Lando had always loved slow and filthy kisses. Ones where he could feel your bodies reaction, listen to the little gasps and whines you let out, the way you hold onto him a little tighter. 

You could hear his engineers let out whistles and claps at the clear display of affection. You both pulled away, red faced, but happy none the less. You took him by the collar of his racing suit, and pulled him down a random hallway. “Baby, what has gotten into you?” He smirked as he watched you unzip his suit in a hurry. “Hopefully you in my mouth soon.” 

You got down on your knees, pulling his pants and underwear with you. You wasted no time in getting your hands around him, his head thumped against the wall, letting himself be taken care of for a change. 

“Fuck y/n, if this is what happens when I get a podium, I should do it more often.” Lando let out a strangled moan right after. 

“Couldn’t help it,” You leaned forward and kissed his tip a few times.” looked so fucking hot up there, a fucking podium at your home race.” You finally took him in your mouth and he preened. He pulled your hair away from your face and formed a pony tail. 

One hand held his thigh for balance, and the other reached up to touch is balls. You knew that was his weakness, that combined with a little suction on the tip? Feral. 

He started tugging on your hair, pulling you every which way to satisfy him. Drool and precum spilled out your mouth and down your chin, you looked up at his face and saw the most gorgeous sight. Landos eyes were squeezed shut, lips parted to let out quiet moans, his lean torso jutted out to get closer to you. You pulled away to speak, “C’mon Lando, cum f’me” You sucked on his tip hard and you could feel his balls draw up and the gasping moans he was letting out-he was gonna blow.

“Ah fuck- baby, oh my god.” You watched his eyes roll back as he came in your mouth. You grinned at the salty substance in your mouth before swallowing. You kissed his tip one  last time before tucking him back in his pants and standing up. Once he caught his breath, he switched positions and had you against the wall. But, just when things were starting to get fun, “Lando? Mate, you’ve got media duties, wrap it up please. Oh god no wait-not like that!”

Giving: 

“Lando wait-fuck slow down” You tried to get your barrings as Lando pushed you onto the bed and started stripping you of your clothes. “Can’t sweetheart,” he kissed the freckles and stretch marks on your stomach, pushing your dress up to reveal more skin and the pretty papaya underwear he all but ripped off. “Looked so good tonight, such an amazing girlfriend to put together a party just for me.” He lifted your legs over his shoulders, trailing kisses over your thighs, letting his hands wander up your body to play with your boobs. “Baby, it’s your birthday shit-” He let one finger drag through your slick, gathering it at your clit. “shouldn’t I be the one to give you a-a gift?” 

He pushed two fingers up so that sat on either side of your clit. He wriggled them left to right, left to right, so it moved side to side. You whined and grabbed his wrist to slow him down, or this night would end very quickly. 

He dismissed your question as he leaned down to kiss the crease of your thigh, letting his nose trail to the top of your pussy. He inhaled and his eyes rolled back for a second. “You okay with this?” He mumbled as he pressed himself against you. You nodded and gasped as you felt his fingers still playing with you. “I need words my love.” 

You huffed but spoke up, “yes please Lando, need it so bad.” You reached down to tug on his silky curls. He dove in, like a man starved, ate you like it was his last meal he’d ever have.

He was everywhere, fucking you with his tongue, teasing your clit by licking everything but it. He eventually gave in to your pleas and let the tip of his tongue glide over your button. 

“Jesus baby, how do you taste so fucking good every time.” You gripped into his hair harder as your hips bucked in time with his tongue. 

“Lanod please, please please please I need it so bad, please let me cum.” He smirked. Lando almost pulled away just to be an asshole but, he decided the need to make you cum tonight over ruled that. “C’mon then pretty girl, give me what I want.” He sucked your clit harshly and suddenly entered two of his thick fingers. You couldn’t keep still at that point, hips bucking, legs flailing. 

His hand found yours, interlaced them and gave your hand a squeeze, giving you the encouragement you needed to cum. You saw stars-no more than that. Fireworks, a forest fire, love. Nothing but love as Lando looked up into your eyes, letting you come down peacefully, whispering words of praise and adoration.

[portraitsofguilt]

CAN YOU PLS WRITE SOME REYNA SMUT 🥲🥲🥲

✮ ┆HELP MY HEAD CLEAR. zyanya ‘reyna’ mondragón

no plot, just smut.

CONTENT WARNING.          18+ only, minors dni. NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT; female-bodied reader, scissoring, kissing, praising, mommy kink, top! reyna, pet names, dub-con elements, | ~0.9k words

A/N.                   i found this scrapped reyna fic on my hard drive finally, hopefully, you like it anon despite it being rather short, and thank you for reading everyone !!!

to say that reyna was tense lately was an understatement and you were more than glad that the rest of the agents thought when she finally calmed down it was thanks to the countless training bots beheaded. you were more than proud of how well you could assist your girlfriend to cool her head, but you were nowhere proud enough to brag about how you really did it. even that was a lie because in her least angelic moments, reyna was still very pervasive, and with the slightest effort she could charm you into her room to have a good time.

there was no time for you to register anything happening after the sliding door closed, reyna’s hands all over your body, stripping you of your clothes before forcing you under her on the bed. “my precious baby, won’t you help mami, hm?” she coos as she straddles you, her hand catching one of yours that was trying to cover up your bare body, placing them on the buckle of her pants while her free hand was groping your chest, digging her nails into the soft mound of your breast.

your body was sprawled across the bed like a work of art, your tits bouncing softly as reyna rolled her hips against yours. light gasps came from your lips as your clit met hers, grinding against one another slowly. zyanya’s mouth waters at the sight of you under her and her animalistic fantasies of absolutely devouring you right there and then were never harder to maintain than now.

“feels good baby, yeah? helping mami out,” she asks, reaching a hand down to caress your face. it was hot, almost fooling her that you were riding a high fever and your cheeks were red like the blood that flows through your body,  your skin burning where she touched you. you nodded furiously, the blush darkening and spreading down your neck as she pressed herself down on top of you, taking control of the position, her arms bracketing your head and holding it down so you couldn’t move away. 

you bit your lower lip to suppress a moan which did not please the woman above you at all. reyna would hate to admit otherwise, tell you out loud how much she is enjoying herself in this position and the delicious stimulation on her clit. she didn’t think this kind of position could be as satisfying as any of her toys or your tongue and she is already planning the next time the two of you will do this.

“f-faster…” you mumble, your thighs trembling already. your heart was racing and you swore it would jump out of your chest any second with the way she moved her hips against yours.

“you are so good mi corazón, such a pretty messy pussy you have for mami,” she exclaims with a high-pitched moan following her statement. she pulls your thigh closer to her and quickens her pace as more praises fall from her mouth.

your eyes close as you soak up her words, whimpering softly after each and every adoring word that spilled from her mouth. your body trembles and your walls clench around nothing but air as your high nears and you find it embarrassing. she mewls all about how she’s gonna devour you after this,  how she is gonna eat you up and make sure you get what’s coming to you.

“m’cumming- cumming!” you squeak, your thighs trying to close as your hips spasm against hers. all your shame quickly dissolves, your mind only able to concentrate on the spine-arching pleasure your body is being wrecked by. you saw stars, shining brightly and bliding you as your orgasm ate you whole.

“cum for me- cum with me cariño.” reyna gave you a few rushed nods, not being able to form any more words as she too was nearing the edge. she can feel the small, unfortunate space between the two of you get even more slippery than before, the wet sounds of your pussy lips getting louder.

just as you were coming, your pupils were blown like you were high on drugs, and your brain was gushing out of your ears. zyanya followed you soon, her head falling forward and one of her hands slipping between the two of you. the pressure in her stomach was unbearable and the release her fingers provided was heavenly.

the sound of her moans was music to your ear and if you weren’t so dizzy because of your lingering orgasm. it felt so damn good to be fucked like this, to know that you are making her feel good and she's letting all that steam off that's building up inside of her.

reyna wasn't shy about showing off, kissing, and biting your shoulder and collarbone- touching these marks. it stung, how her fingers ran along and pushed on her purple marks, but the way that touch made her feel, the warm feeling, and how it made your body shiver all made her delightful, strengthening her ownership over you.

zyanya was breathing heavily, her hair tousled. her entire body was sweaty and flushed and she looked absolutely gorgeous. she pulled back slowly, her breathing labored and her eyes remained closed for a couple of seconds before falling over, taking you in her weak arms, pulling your naked bodies close to one another.