#relationships withheld

[oldschoolfic-ds9]

I Can’t Help Myself

by Emallia, unknown year

(Author did not provide a summary. The following is reader provided.)

I can't help myself. I have to see her. Again. It's like she's infectious.

Words: 154, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Rating: G

Warnings: none listed

Characters: none listed [Archivist’s note: no characters or ships listed and it’s unclear from the text who the characters are, but this fic was posted on the Worf Dax Fanfic Archive, so it is likely supposed to be about Worf, Jadzia Dax, and/or Ezri Dax.]

Relationships: none listed

Reader suggested tags (what are these?): none

links (link broken? report it and try the archive.org alternative):

oocities

archive.org - option 1 / option 2

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

Cute Stephanie Brown Robin Headcanon #36294❤️😍💖💖✨✨❤️❤️

Steph never got a real answer that first time she looked up at that big elevator and asked what was up there. The second time, she doesn’t bother asking. She’s Robin now, he would tell her. He would. She’s Robin now. She doesn’t ask.

[toktic]

been thinking about dante and faust today. what if we were both assets of the company.

[pynkhues]

I think Louis will dislike Marius but he will HATE Gabrielle. Because Louis and Gabrielle are so similar and everyone loves a good old fashioned ‘son in law and mother in law who hate each other’ relationship

(x)

I actually don't think Gabrielle and Louis are that alike at all, honestly, particularly the Louis of the show compared to the Gabrielle of the books (and I actually think the show has deliberately made some changes to make Claudia more like her than Louis), but I do agree that they'll hate each other! Honestly, I think they have good reason to too, so I can't wait, haha.

[oldschoolfic-ds9]

Trapped

by Ainzfern, unknown year

Julian has a revealing conversation with his companion.

Words: 1019, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none listed

Characters: Julian Bashir, [character withheld by author]

Relationships: Bashir/?

Reader suggested tags (what are these?): dialogue only, Doctor Fuh-Q Fest

links (link broken? report it and try the archive.org alternative):

archive.org - option 1

[dogstarblues]

im reading a romance fantasy revenge webcomic that reads literally like an Iris Johanssen romantic thriller i read when i was 15 and im living for it

[saving-people-haunting-things]

Casgirls look away!

I really don't like hating Cas, but s15 is really bringing back my inner Cas-disliker.

[ssahotchnerr]

Hotch request ♡ for pre-relationship Hotch and Reader where he takes care of them on a case where they don’t feel well (maybe giving them his jacket when they have to investigate somewhere chilly at night, or keeping an eye on them!!) I thought this would be a cute one !!

if you only knew

cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, no established relationship, touch starved aaron, sick descriptions, fluff <3

After being out with the flu last week, color was just beginning to return to your face. Liveliness was present, contrasting the dull pale Aaron had witnessed when you attempted to come into the office. One look at you, and he sent you straight home.

You were on the upswing, otherwise he wouldn't have let you travel. Your fever had gone, you were on antibiotics, you promised you felt better - pinky-promised even.

But now he was beginning to think he should've momentarily grounded you back at Quantico, aiding Garcia rather than being in the field with the rest of team.

The further you ventured, the further the temperature plummeted. Surely it wasn't good for your vulnerable immune system, especially since your symptoms had yet to fully disappear, and why had he insisted you come? Prentiss could've accompanied him to the crime scene. Or JJ, Reid - anyone else.

He knew the answer already though; after not seeing you for nearly a week, he was guiltily needing to make up for lost time.

Aaron did, however, have a set of tissues waiting in his pocket, which - judging by the increasing rate of sniffles exiting you - would come in handy soon. He had to subtly conceal retrieving the items (he packed cough drops also) as the two of you left the precinct, knowing the cheeky grin or words Dave would offer him if caught.

"How are you doing?"

You considered saying you were fine, but lying was pointless - he’d see right through it before the words even left your mouth. And you couldn't lie to him.

It was nice, having someone know you so well.

Your voice was hoarse, barely more than a rasp. "Honestly, not great. My head is so congested it feels as if it's going to explode."

He grimaced in compassion, meeting your eyes with sympathy - which deepened at the sight of your red nose. Induced by the cold or your cold, he wasn't sure, "I'm sorry."

"I can't tell if I'm shivering because of post sick chills," you admitted, and right on cue, a quick shudder overtook your body. "Or I'm just freezing."

"You could head back to the car. Warm up a bit."

As tempting as the suggestion was, you gave him a look. Wittiness danced in your eyes and it eased his tense shoulders; if you felt that bad, you wouldn't have bothered with such a display. "And leave you here alone?"

Aaron chuckled gently, "I can manage."

"I know you can." You responded simply but picked up your pace to lead the way, as if to prove to him you were more than capable. Unbeknownst to him, you were making up for lost time too.

Spending solo time with Aaron, or cooped up in a stuffy police department? The choice was obvious.

"Wait-" you paused, and he took a few strides to catch up. "Take my jacket then, at least."

"Hotch-" You began to protest, but Aaron shrugged his puffer off his shoulders anyway, ignoring your concerns of him now being susceptible to the frigid air, and how you'd hate to be the reason he'd succumb to hypothermia.

He couldn't care less, as long as you were warm. He persuaded your arms through the sleeves and pulled the zipper up, fastening it snugly at your chin to preserve warmth.

"This shouldn't take long," Aaron promised, a brisk burst of wind hitting the two of you. It caused a strand of your hair to fall in front of your face, and he immediately had the urge to tuck it back behind your ear. Get a grip, Hotchner.

He withheld his temptation for a moment, but then came to the conclusion - fuck it. While brushing it out of the way, his finger touched your skin. Briefly, but your cheek wasn't flushed, confirming your fever had definitely gone. But then again, the weather could've been contributing. "We'll take a look around, make sure CSI is taking adequate photos, and head out."

Your response was delayed, partially convinced you hallucinated his actions as your heart fluttered in your chest. Maybe your fever was returning. "Okay."

"Once we get back to the hotel, make some tea for your throat." How did he know your throat killed? Was it that obvious? "Take a hot shower, bask in the steam. And most importantly, get some sleep."

"Is that an order?" You countered, a weak smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"If that's what it takes, yes." He answered playfully, but the expression on his face indicated he was serious. Lips pressed into a soft line, eyes steady and clear with quiet determination.

Aaron was walking alongside you now, the back of his hand brushing against yours. While you weren't touching - only a few centimeters separated the two of you - it was electrifying.

Right before you reached the victim, a sudden sneezing fit seized you, and without thinking, his hand settled at the small of your back in support. It comfortably stayed put until you finished.

You peered up at him as your hand hid your snotty nose, eyes watery and quite pitiful. It broke his heart in the sweetest yet saddest way.

"Do you have tissues?"

"Check your pocket."

[fanaticsnail]

Don't Run

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,600+

Synopsis: In one moment, you were standing beside your boss and enjoying the silence between you as you worked. In an instant, the dynamic shifted: you became the hunted as opposed to the hunter. When you ducked towards the ground, shifting your eyes and tilting your head to read the tracks left by your target, Rob Lucci was hit by a wave he had long since prayed he had repressed. Instinct.

Themes: Rob Lucci x afab!reader, NSFW, 18+, smut, MDNI, primal play, no prior relationship, dub con, half-shifting, monster loving, zoan tendencies, Lucci has hit his season, knotting, slight yandere, hunting, a little out of character for Lucci as a monster, Lucci in rutt, workplace rivals to lovers, chasing, claiming, use of the word 'mate'.

Notes: I wanted to do something for Lucci that leaned a little more into the monster aspects of Zoans. I hope you enjoy!

Everything happened so fast. 

In one moment, you were standing beside your boss and enjoying the silence between you and him as you tracked a pirate for the celestial dragons. Feet falling in perfect synchrony, breaths silenced while your eyes both focussed, you found the trail you were searching for with relative ease. 

That silence was not to remain as such for long. In an instant, the dynamic shifted: you became the hunted as opposed to the hunter. When you ducked towards the ground, shifting your eyes and tilting your head to read the marks left on the ground, Rob Lucci was hit by a wave he had long since prayed he had repressed. As he took in the way your body arched and knelt low to the ground, he automatically undressed you with his eyes and saw himself claiming you as his Zoan alter. He couldn't fight it, it all coming to him as automatically as breathing or walking.

Instinct. 

Rob Lucci had earlier dismissed Hattori so the two of you could focus on using your keen eyes to search for any indication of your target, rather than your usual inclination to hand feed the bird dried corn kernels you traveled with. You were sweet amongst the sour faces he grew accustomed to. Despite how you were in battle, you always had that way of brightening any room you entered. The celestial dragons almost enjoyed you, and your coworkers adored you. 

But Lucci? He both hated the softness to you, and appreciated you being that presence for him when the time came. Your natural charisma did wonders for sating the cruelty of the celestial dragons, but Rob Lucci despised the small up-twitch in your tone. You were sweet, despite your role beside him. Too sweet for your own well being. 

The Zoan-Fruit user kept his eyes sharp and focussed, only ever affixing to the ground in front of you both while you searched. When you bent down to peer at the tracks a little closer, his chest rattled with a deep growl that bubbled and shook within his throat. 

The perfect arch of your back awoke that desire deep within his soul. His withheld urges finally broke when he saw you in that position. Ass rounded, kneeling to the ground, focussing on your task on all fours, the beast within him swelled to life against his will. You looked so good on your knees, almost playing that role he so desperately needed you to.

Submission. 

At hearing the growl, you hastily snapped your head in his direction for further instruction. Truly thinking he saw something you did not manage to see, your eyes rounded innocently and your lips parted in a soft heart-shape while you gazed at him in question.

“Sir, what is it?” you asked quietly, darting your eyes between his while reading his squared body language, “Are they close? Do I need to-?” 

“-Don’t run,” his growl cracked from the recesses of his diaphragm, “It will make what’s about to happen so much worse.” 

Slowly rising to your feet, you turn fully to face him. His purred growl grew in intensity, prompting your foot to fall back and prepare yourself for battle. Unknowing what you were preparing yourself for, you ensured you remained below his eye level while you flexed your muscles to ready yourself. 

“Have we been found?” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his face while you peered through your peripherals around the area. 

“No,” his tone quietened, that same rattling purr swelling in his chest. His lip almost upturned at the corner as he uttered a small quip, “Not yet, at least.” 

“Then what is it?” Your voice raised in frequency. You arched your back and rolled your shoulders back. “I just found their tracks. What’s wrong-?” Your sentence halted as Lucci cut you off. 

“-You... You've triggered it,” he snarled with a vile accusation laden in his tone. “The way you bent just now. I-... I need-...” He shook his head, attempting to chase away the need pooling in his belly and the adrenaline igniting a fresh wave of lust over his skin. 

Mate. 

His rounded pupils split into symmetrical slits as he focuses his shifting gaze on your much smaller form. He had hoped he had grown out of this by now, and took the correct combinations of melatonin and herbal remedies to sate it. But the way your ass all but presented to him while you knelt towards the floor said otherwise. 

Body swelling with the ignition of need, he felt his top and bottom canines protrude from his jaw while his muscles broke and cracked to morph into a larger form. His eyes never left yours as your own rounded in fright. Those eyes, that soft innocence in your face, the almost unnoticeable quiver in your lip while your heartbeat began to drum in your ears. 

“Sir?” your soft and unsure voice cut through the air, “What did I trigger? Some form of trap they laid out for us?” 

Lucci’s body vibrated with intensity. His body propelled his foot forward against his will. He was screaming to have a semblance of control. His arched eyebrows furrowed down in the center of his head. The pads of his feet expanded and broke through the soles of his shoes. Toes curled, claws protruded and cut into the dirt beneath him. 

You turned on your heels, eyes holding firmly against his and checking him over. Lucci was angry. Everything about him was screaming both aggression and need, and it began to frighten you. 

“Don't run,” he warned you, his usual cadence cutting through and his eyes widened in panic, “It will be so much worse if you do. I can't-... I won't be in control of myself if you run.” 

“What can't you control, sir?” You frown at the way your voice catches in your throat, your fright rising and taking over your body, “Talk to me. What is going on?” 

“Zoan Fruit users,” Lucci purred, a cruel smile rising on his face as he lowered his body down to the floor, “Take on similar urges of their animal counterpart. I-... I thought I'd repressed it enough.” His shoulders rolled back, his unblinking eyes drinking you in as he crouched in a low position, “But, it appears, I have come into my season.” 

Temperature fluctuations and travel had taken its toll on his body and mind, confusing the beast within him and driving his urges wild. Although he claimed disinterest in you, you were his perfect match. He hated that. Your sweetness countered his terror, your haste in fights married themself perfectly his own brutal rage. He needed you to submit to him, and he needed to ensure you did so quietly to not bring you harm.

Your eyes widened further, your arms falling out to the sides as your body began to make a choice for you. 

Rob Lucci was telling you he was consumed with the lust of the beast lingering beneath his skin and swelling his adrenaline. Putting together the pieces yourself, it seemed the animal within had chosen you to breed whilst in the middle of a mission. While you did find Lucci attractive, his abrasive and standoffish attitude pushed back your desires for him. You would rather approach Kaku to date than Rob Lucci. He was at least reasonable in your eyes. The only redeeming quality about Rob Lucci was that cute little pigeon he usually traveled with. 

“I would never ask this of you,” he halted his steps towards you, his body trembling beneath the physical strain of holding himself back, “But I can’t contain it for much longer. If, just for a moment, you could consider allowing me to be close to you,” his snout protruded, his eyes darkening as his lust deepened, “Just inhaling your scent could sate me. I wouldn’t need to c-claim you. Just allow me to hold you for a moment, a-and I can repress the need to-... fuck you.” 

More of his body gave way. His calves extended to a taller stature as his chest broadened with his skin stretching and darkening over his body to the warm gold and dark spots you had only even seen in battle. You had never been darkened by his terrifying silhouette before, never having his animality facing you. Only ever having worked beside him in this form, your heart began to panic. 

Your strength was haste in battle. Scrapping with a flurry of jolts while using your speed to counter opponents twice your size. While you attempted to scream at your body to rid it of its fear and stand your ground, your training immediately kicked in and your reflexes propelled you to run. 

“Don’t run.” 

The barked order only ignited your need to flee to safety. Immediately picking up your heels, you sprinted at your full speed throughout the heavily wooded area. You barely heard the roll of "No!" roaring from his chest as you ran.

Branches snapped beneath your feet as you sprinted towards your freedom, attempting to remain as quiet as you could with the man clawing at your achilles. Your body pushed you to full acceleration, your chest burning from the intensity of your adrenaline swelling your veins. Knees brushing with the shrubbery, breath controlled and steady, you continued to run until you felt yourself far enough from the beast to hide. 

Concealing yourself to the best of your ability on the moss-covered forest floor, you crawled backwards beneath the coverage of a fallen tree trunk. Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard the heavy panting of the leopard-man tracking you. Lucci was cold, calculated, borderline sociopathic, and usually without emotion. You felt you would be able to reason with Jabra or Kaku if they were like this, even giving into them if they’d asked politely enough. But Lucci scared you.

You heard heavy sniffs of the air, prompting you to raise your palm to clap over your nose and mouth to stifle your shocked breathing. You had absolutely lost the trail of your target now, choosing to run from your colleague while he lost control of himself in lieu of following them and bringing them in. Scrunching your eyes tightly shut, you felt four sets of heavy paws digging into the branch on top of you. 

Holding your breath, you made yourself as small as possible. Legs tucked into your chest, arms around your calves, and palm still clapped over your lips, you hid from the monster searching for you. Heavy inhales and deep rumbling purrs shook the air within Lucci’s chest and shook you to your soul. 

Behind the shroud of your eyelids, all you could picture was the man transformed into the beast above you. What would it be like to finally be caught by him? What would he do? Could he be reasoned with? Would he immediately attempt to fuck you into submission?

You did not have to ponder for much longer as the bark split beneath his claws, severing a hole in your makeshift covering with the tear in the fallen trunk. You stifled your scream, scampering to both flee outwards and bury yourself deeper inwards beneath what remained of the shelter. The two options fighting within your mind had your body uncooperative to your whims. As you finally chose to flee outwards, two large paws circled your ankles and tugged you back in beneath the large trunk. 

The animal had captured you, pinning you beneath him and growling into your face. Back laying flush with the ground, your widened eyes peered up at the half-shifted man caging you within his extended arms. His jaws split into a large snarl, saliva connecting his upper and lower jaw as he roared down at your body. 

Turning your head to the side, you expected him to bite and claw at you: hastily slashing your throat and leaving you to die in a pool of your own demise weeping out of you. But it never came. 

In lieu of such pain and slaughter from the man turned beast, you felt a friction on your stomach down over your clothed cunt. Your neck turned, his beastial jowls pulling back and extending his coarse tongue to roll over your flesh and swipe at your pulse. His hips snapped feverishly forwards, rutting his red-tipped cock against you while staining your pants with his damp precum. Inhaling your scent, he lapped at your neck and began to gnaw at the muscle: not enough to break the skin, but firm enough to hold you steady while he rubs his otherworldly cock against your clothed center. 

“Mine,” he purred against your skin, his neediness increasing in the friction against your abdomen, “Mine.” His repetition of the word rose in volume the longer he rut into you. His glossy precum dribbled against your pants, completely dampening it while he continued to growl and preen against your neck. Each time it made contact in a crude glide against your clit, your breath hitched as arousal began to seep from your slit. 

Rob Lucci was no longer reachable as the large leopard humanoid dragged his cock against your clothed heat. Gasps, grunts, and growls exited him as he continued on. He couldn’t finish like this. Not after the chase. He had you pinned beneath him, and the Zoan creature wanted to claim you completely as his prize. 

Fabric broke as his claws ribboned the material of your pants. Your legs kicked out, but his knees pinned your thighs wide as his cock bobbed with need. Within the beast, Lucci was screaming at himself to at least have some semblance of decorum. He could see you through his otherworldly eyes, glaring at you as you squirmed beneath him. 

“Still,” the beast growled, looking at your exposed cunt as it glistened with arousal. You scrunched your eyes shut and attempted to block the next few moments out. He was going to fuck you, just as he said he would, and he was going to be in this form while he did. 

In another life, you could’ve seen you both continuing to work together, building a comradery rapport as you had been for the past year. You may have even called him friend by the end of it, perhaps being open to a relationship should he halt with his cold attitude and showcase some semblance of warmth. 

“Look,” the rumbled order purred from above you. You opened your eyes, gently turning your head towards the man towering over your cowering form. The only reason you truly ran from him in the first place was due to the fright that overcame you at being on the receiving end of his wrath in this form. You would’ve never ran if you knew the kindness in the beast’s eyes as he stared down at you. His cock twitched as it made contact against your glistening pussy. His red tip leaked as he rubbed the engorged head against your clit. 

“Mine.”

Pushing the tip within you caused you to squeak out in protest. Eyes wide and gazing up at the creature, your lip quivered as the leopard-man inched further into your entrance. Your body stretched to accommodate him, the earlier grinding of his cock against your clothed cunt withdrew enough arousal as your earlier rush of adrenaline paved the way for your lust to overcome you. Truthfully, you craved this. The way he possessively held you with a need no other partner had expressed. You had never felt so wanted in your life, and within the arms of the Zoan-Fruit user, your body gave in to the touch.

Relaxing your core, you gently reached a shaky hand to press against his furred jowls. Caressing his cheek, you darted your eyes between his with a soft nod. Unsure whether Lucci was truly reachable or not, you wanted to reassure your superior that you were okay: that this was okay. The way your body reacted was okay, and your need for him was okay.

The man peered down at you like you were a meal, taking a moment to lean in to that soft touch before fully giving in to his desires. Your wrists were hastily bound within his claws as he sheathed his cock completely within your heat. The swollen bulge at the base of his cock slammed against your body: your smaller size unable to take the swell within your pussy without preparation. Your stomach bulged with the sheer size of his cock entering you, as you silently screamed out in the fine line between pleasure and pain. 

In his large left claw, he took both of your hands and rose them above your head while his right clutched at your hips. Without care, he lost himself in the feeling of your walls. You let out a soft whimper as the burn from the stretch intensified with each cruel glide. His hips snapped into yours at a punishing pace as his grasps bruised your hips and wrists. Repetitively spearing himself deep within your body, you felt your cunt beginning to clench eagerly around him. 

“Mine,” he growled once more, his pace growing rabid and feral. His thrusts were deep and intense, never expelling his full length from your cunt as you struggled to accommodate him. The burn subsided into a dull ache as his tip slapped against your cervix, prompting your soft gasps to fall away to whimpers and soft whines. Your pussy molded to his shape with each powerful thrust, but never truly felt prepared enough to adjust to his pace. 

You were a doll in his arms, his claim over you intensifying with the cruel piston of his cock in your slick heat. The way he seemed to hit all of the sensitive and pleasure forming nerves to make you cry out and clench around him had you gushing for him. You should be trying to push him off, chastising him for ruining your pants after chasing you through the forest, but each rock into your body had you getting wetter and wetter for him. You felt your body relaxing, the pit in your belly beginning to coil tight in the promise of a brutal orgasm rising.  

The squelching of his cock meeting his knot at the base had him more wild and frantic the longer he pummelled you. Completely sheathed with a rapid flurry of anxious thrusts had his base drumming against your slit. 

He was going to try and put it in. 

“L-Lucci-!” Your strangled cry had him pushing harder into you. The swell of his knot rammed against you, your tight entrance prohibiting him from bullying its way into you no matter how hard the buck or rutt. He growled in response, releasing your wrists from above your head and surrounding your waist in his firm grip. 

“Knot,” he roared, holding your waist firmer and attempting to slam his hips more intently against yours. Your pussy refused to budge, even though your mind screamed at it to allow him to. You knew he wouldn't stop until he entered that thick bulge into your slick heat, and you whimpered at the thought of him continuing to try to no avail. 

“Lucci it won't fit-,” you tried, desperately willing him to listen to you. “I can’t take y-you like this. I-If you can turn back to your regular self, I-I can-.” 

The leopard-man growled as he unsheathed his cock from you completely. You were shocked, thinking the man had come to his senses and was about to repress his animal urges and return to the cold, dark-haired man you knew him to be. Instead, he flipped you onto your stomach: face colliding with the moss-covered ground as he used the heel of his hand to arch the middle of your back and force your ass up.

In the same position that broke his hardened resolve in the first place, he immediately resheathed himself with a loud roar. The reverberations falling from his roar echoed within your chest, immediately making your pussy flutter around his hard, red cock. As the knot pressed up against you, he set a rapid and brutal pace hammering it against your slit. The heavy claps of your thighs meeting his hips had your eyes rolling in your skull, feeling completely claimed by him in the submissive position he’d curled you into. 

Crouching back onto his hind legs and planting his heels, he snapped intently into his hips from behind, slotting you down onto his cock in heavy thrusts. With his hands now both circling your hips, removed from your back in a quick glide, he used the shameful amount of slick falling from your pussy to finally push himself over that ridge. 

He managed to force his knot in with a single, intense thrust.

As soon as his knot settled into you, it caught on the ring of muscle at the base of your heat. You could taste the earth rubbed into your lips from the earlier spin, your abdomen wound in a tight vice as your orgasm halted as soon as he pressed his knot inside you. Right on the edge, and without a way to move against him to draw it forth, you felt his cock begin to twitch in the depth of your cunt none before reached. You needed something to tip you over, pussy tingling and abdomen shuddering while you whined and mewled out for him.

“Cum,” he barked down at you. His command immediately took root in your body, prompting it to submit to his wishes without question. At that order, you felt the waves of bliss crashing over you as you were shepherded into ecstacy. Your pussy began contracting and fluttering around his cock as the warmth of his own release emptied himself within you. He roared something that sounded like your name, the gurgled choke of his otherworldly voice breaking into his usual tone. 

“I-I’m cumming,” you cried out, screaming his name and a babble of incomprehensible words as your tears began to leak from the corners of your eyes, “Lucci, nnngh- I’m cumming.” You were in ecstasy, never before feeling so full and stretched by a partner prior. Viscous cum began flooding your abdomen and immediately splashing back against the base of your cervix. The knot at his base acted like a plug: holding the entirety of his load deep within you and choking you with how much volume it truly was. 

Lucci rolled the both of you onto your side, his cock still buried at the knot as the final twitches of his cock deeply spilling into you had you gasping for air. Your soft tears began to build up in intensity, rolling down your cheeks as your shoulders shook. Containing your whimpers in your lips after such a hefty release coming out of nowhere, you drew your hand up once more to press over your lips and nose. Eyes scrunched shut, you tried to contain yourself as you were overcome with heavy emotions. You replayed the events from the day, hoping it would make sense if you focussed it enough.

Your colleague had propositioned you, and while you didn’t say ‘no’, you also didn’t say 'yes,' until he was already buried within you. Terror at his otherworldly form compelled you to flee, and that chase exhilarated you to the point where your fright became arousal. Tearing through your clothes, he bullied himself into you to the point your teeth chattered at the stretch, but it didn’t feel wrong. It felt almost as if you were meant to be his-.

“-Mate,” Lucci’s voice softly purred at you. His tongue lulled out and began to drag the coarse muscle against your neck. Slowly lapping at your skin, the barbs on his lengthy pink tongue collected a few of your tears and pulled them back into his mouth. His body relaxed against you, his muscle deflating at the ring of your pussy circling at his base. The arm around your waist began to melt back to the flesh of his mortal self.

“Lucci, I-.” He hushed you by drawing you back further into his arms, nuzzling his forehead into your neck while inhaling deeply. His cock was still buried, knot throbbing as he reduced back into the mortal you knew him to be.

“-I warned you not to run,” he whispered huskily against you. His lips met your skin and pressed a warm and gentle kiss into it, “I would’ve been so much more gentle.” Another kiss melted against your skin, his words rolling easily off his tongue and pressed into you. “It could’ve been so much more beautiful. Not like...,” he twitched his cock, still deflating at the knot as he shifted back into his usual self, “...This.” 

You whimpered at the twitch, with a chuckle met in response from the man behind you. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, almost shyly in comparison to his usual cold-heartedness. You gently shook your head in ‘no,’ knowing truly that you would have a dull ache and burn as soon as you managed to struggle shakily to your feet. 

“Liar,” he muffled his lips over your pulse, his gentleness continuing as he began fixing your shirt from behind you. “You took me well, like you were made for me.” You hid your head in your hand, feeling truly fatigued and grimy after that full chase and having his cock buried balls deep within your pussy. 

After taking a moment to calm yourself down with a few gulps of air, you addressed the man behind you as your superior. 

“We lost track of the target,” you stated monotonously, “They will not be pleased with our failure.” Lucci hummed behind you, pressing his forehead to the base of your skull and inhaling now his muzzle fell back into his human appearance. He drank in your scent in any of his forms, taking you in and creating a memory of the harmony falling from your skin and rising in his lungs. 

“I don’t care. We will find them again,” he nodded, pulling back and taking a look at your body against his. You were so small, and your skin was flushed and sweaty from sprinting. “Rest now.” You nodded, your brows furrowing as you felt him still buried deep within you. The swollen knot continued to pulse against your walls, the thrum of your heartbeat deep within your pussy matching the join bulbing at his hilt. You truly felt as one with him, and you didn’t quite understand it.

“What did you call me?” You asked him quietly, “You called me something. Your-.”

“-My mate, yes,” he confirmed, settling himself behind you. Using his hand to gently caress your skin, he moved it up and down your arm before settling over the bulge in your stomach where his cock was buried. “Regardless to how you feel about me, whether you hate me, loathe me, or tolerate me for the sake of the missions: you are my mate. Mine.” 

You took a moment to think on it, rolling the thoughts over in your mind and the earlier terror his form induced in you.

“I don’t know if I want that, sir,” you confessed to him in a voice so soft it almost went unheard. Lucci tensed behind you, his muscles growing taut and already beginning to swell into his other form. He tried to calm the beast within down, managing to sate it with a few intentional breaths. Leaning into your ear, his lips and breath tingled the shell and lobe of your skin while he extended his threat with a sense of promise.

“When you wake every day with my face between your thighs, lapping at your cunt and making you cum over and over again on my face, you might change your tune,” he purred, gently tugging on your lobe with his extended canines. “When you take my knot in my office, crying and squirting on it while I hold a vibrator against that pearl at the top of your pussy, you will have it melt into your memory.” You squeaked as you felt his hand dip down between your legs and gave the tip still pulsing at the top of your pussy a gentle pinch, “When the other Zoan’s notice my scent on your body, taste our lust in the air, and see my seed dripping down your thighs beneath your uniform, you will know for sure.” 

“Know what, sir?” You asked him, turning to face him with rounded eyes. His human eyes swelled into yellowed slits, his pupils blowing in lust as he rolled your arousal around your slick pussy. His cock swelled within you, although his knot began to deflate. He slowly began to rock into you, fucking his cum back into you with slow and heavy motions. 

“You’ll know who you belong to,” he whispers, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth as his bucking kept its steady pace, “You’ll know who will protect you as his own.” His lips traveled further up to half covering your mouth. “You’ll know who will never leave you for wanting in this life.” His hand drew up to the tip of his cock buried within you, pushing down on your stomach while he fucked steadily into you. “You’ll know you’re mine.” 

“Yours?” you gasped, already feeling the need begin to rouse in your abdomen. Lucci’s lips covered your own, his pace beginning to pick up as he felt his own need swell in his stomach within his human body. Tongues colliding, teeth gnashing, he sloppily fucked into you while he passionately kissed you with all of the emotion he no longer repressed. While it was not yet love, you could feel the beginnings of the fresh sparks rising between you. Pulling away, he bore his intense and possessive gaze into your eyes, uttering one word that had you immediately almost cum there and then.

“Mine.”

And you were his, just as much as he was yours.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[cloudedangels]

A TEST OF CONTROL (18+)

2.3k words. PART 1/? not for minors! shoo!

Pt 2 -> here ♡ Pt 3 -> here

After being stood up three times, MC decides Caleb won’t earn her forgiveness without enduring some playful punishment. What starts as teasing quickly becomes a torturous test of Caleb’s self-control as she takes charge, drawing out every ounce of his restraint.

(Self-Indulgent and heavily inspired by 2-3 of Caleb’s lines in the cafe)

cw/tags: f!MC(reader), slow burn, unresolved sexual tension, dom!mc, sub!caleb, pilot!caleb, established relationship, teasing, punishment kink, edging, light power play, breath, withheld pleasure, delayed gratification, soft dom/sub, emotional tension, begging, dirty talk, gravity evol, fluff and smut, romantic smut, pining, touch, reward/punishment, kisses all over, oral tease, tension relief, switch dynamics, intimacy, NSFW, dominant/submissive, dubcon (mild), restraint, light pain play (scratching), suggestive language, mature themes, power imbalance, sensory teasing

MC is getting very, very annoyed with Caleb. He's canceled spending time with her twice with “emergency business” for the fleet. And even though when things like this happened before, Caleb tried his best to make it up to her, this time she figured she wouldn't be pleased until he received what she deems as a fair punishment. She sits on her couch, arms folded, waiting and waiting.  ‘I can't believe he canceled two days in a row and still has the nerve to be late today!!’

She flips through channels before hearing light boots and the sound of dangling keys. Then a soft rhythm of knocks follows. 

“It's open.”

She hears the soft click of the door but doesn't get up from the couch. Instead, she turns away and pouts, her head resting on the armrest. The footsteps come closer until Caleb is in front of her face, squatting down to eye level. 

“Hi, pipsqueak. Are you mad at me?” His big pretty eyes look like a sad puppy's.

“Guess.” She pokes him in the forehead with her finger, frustrated at how fast she wants to forgive him. “I was excited to see you. Two days ago, yesterday, this morning…” She scowls.

Caleb tries to hide a smirk at how bratty she's acting, knowing this show she puts on is a necessary and very cute step towards quick and easy forgiveness.

“I'm sorry, cutie,  you know I hate making you wait. The fleet—”

She pushes a finger to his lips before he can finish. “Shh. It's done anyways, no use explaining it again. But… I still haven't come up with a proper way to punish you.” She sits up properly on the couch and turns off the TV, the motion turning her away from him. But not before seeing his somewhat surprised expression.

He comes to sit next to her on the couch and suddenly her head is being turned to him. “Punish me however you like, I'm all yours, pips” She glares at the use of his gravity evol and shoves him onto his back as soon as he lets go of her face. 

“However I want, hm?” She hums.

Caleb lets out a soft “oof” as he lands on his back, laughing under his breath. His arm flops over his forehead like he's fainted. “Ah, Cruel Mistress, striking a defenseless man,” he groans dramatically.

MC narrows her eyes. “You don't look very sorry.”

He peeks at her through his fingers. “Maybe I'm just waiting to see what my punishment is.”

She climbs over him slowly, straddling his hips, and he swallows a bit too obviously. Her hands rest on his chest, steady, firm.

“You made me wait,” she says, low. “You got my hopes up. And you know how I get when I'm disappointed.”

He nods quickly. “You get pouty.”

“And a little mean,” she adds with a smirk, “Don’t you dare forget that.”

“Dangerous combination.” His voice is breathy now, no more teasing. “What are you going to do to me, pipsqueak?”

She leans in close, brushing her nose along his jaw. “You’ll find out. But not all at once. You’ll get it in doses… like I got my disappointment.”

His breath gets a bit heavy. There's no hiding the rises and falls of his chest as he searches for ways of maintaining control of himself. He doesn't touch her, his arms slack at his sides, his right arm hanging off the side of the couch. 

MC looks him in the eyes now, her face centimeters from him, and something dubious lights her expression. She holds his face in her two hands, their breath still mingling softly as Caleb searches her face for her next move, holding himself completely still. Her hips press into his abdomen, her arms across his chest,  her head tilted as she moves his chin down to look at her. “I know what I will do.”

He swallows again his Adam's apple bobbing. “Yeah? What is it, then?” His voice is a bit husky and low, she can almost hear the restraint. 

“Your self-control test is in order, I think.” She whispers into his ear, the action making him shiver beneath her. 

“My self-control test?” He says softly, eyes darting across her face for any sign of not meaning what she said. “Then do you want me to pass with flying colors... or fail miserably?”

She hums, low and thoughtful, the sound skimming along the shell of his ear. “That depends…”

Her fingers trail from his jawline down to the collar of his shirt, brushing barely-there touches that make him twitch under her. Her hips shift just a little, barely, but enough to remind him who’s in control.

“On?” he asks, and it’s a little breathless, a little desperate.

She meets his eyes again, her expression unreadable for a beat. Then, with a wicked little smile:

“On how entertaining your struggle is.”

He lets out a breath that sounds like a laugh caught in a groan. “Oh, I see. You want a show.”

MC nods, mock-innocent. “I waited three days. Seems fair I get some entertainment.”

“Then I hope you enjoy watching a man fall apart, your highness,” he mutters, trying to keep still even as her hands dip just under the hem of his shirt, palms warm against his skin.

She pauses, enjoying the tension curling tight between them. “You’re not allowed to move unless I say so,” she adds, brushing her lips against his cheek – but not quite kissing him. “And no evol. If I even feel a tug of gravity...”

“I won’t,” he promises instantly. “No evol. No hands. No movement. Just...” Torture.

She chuckles, finally settling her weight more firmly on his hips. “Exactly.”

His hands clench at his sides, his breathing uneven, and she can feel the tight coil of restraint beneath her like a drawn string.

“I should be mad at you more often,” she muses aloud. “You’re kind of cute like this.”

He closes his eyes with a strained smile breathing softly out his nose in an ironic chuckle. “Glad I can be of service.”

“Good,” she whispers, and leans in again. “Because I’ve just barely gotten started.”

His eyes flicker open at that, dark with anticipation and lust. She sees it all –  how tightly he's wound, how badly he wants to move, touch her, flip them over. And she also sees how hard he's trying not to. Her hands, splayed open, find their way slowly up his torso as she moves her hips, straddling him lower. He bites his lips, eyebrows knitted, breath catching as she can feel through their pants exactly how much he's holding back.

“Take your shirt off, Caleb.”

He doesn’t move. Not at first.

His eyes search hers, questioning, hopeful, desperate for permission, because technically, that would mean breaking the rules. And she's made those rules very clear.

So she just raises an eyebrow. “Huh? You need help understanding basic commands now, Pilot?”

That’s all it takes.

Caleb sits up slightly, just enough to reach behind his neck and pull the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, jaw tight the entire time. She watches the shift in his shoulders, the flex of restraint even in something so simple. He drops the shirt to the floor beside the couch without taking his eyes off her.

“Much better,  good boy.” She drags her palms across his now heaving chest, letting her nails trace faintly, enough to make him suck in a breath through his teeth. She's always loved his muscles, and as they flex with tightly bound desire she drinks him in with her gaze and careful touch.  

“Remind me to never upset you again…” he groans, laying back down as she pushes him gently. 

“You won't forget, I'm sure.” She smirks at him, truly enjoying him being so helpless.

“Please, can I fail just a little, pipsqueak?” He begs huskily, almost making her weak enough to forget her plan, but it's not enough.

“No way. Pass this with flying colors like you have everything else, my sweet Valedictorian. Perfect marks. Be a good boy.”

He nearly whimpers and she revels in it. 

“You’re taking this seriously,” she whispers, letting a finger trace the edge of his ribcage, “I appreciate the effort.”

“I’m trying so hard,” he grits, voice tight, strained, barely holding onto control. “You have no idea.”

“Oh but I do.” She grins devilishly at that, leaning in and planting a kiss to his throat. 

He trembles beneath her. His muscles are tense, breathing shallow– but he doesn't move. Doesn't grab, and he doesn't flip her over like she can tell he's dying to. His pulse thumps erratically against her lips.

“Three days,” she mutters softly, breath hot against his throat. “Do you know what that does to a girl?”

“I’m learning,” he groans, eyes fluttering shut like he can’t take looking at her anymore without breaking her so called “rules”.

She leans in again, lips at the shell of his ear. “And if I decide I don’t want to let you pass this test?”

He grunts – wound up, helpless, so full of wanting it cuts through the air like static. “Then I’ll fail spectacularly,” he whispers, “but only if you make me. I'm already on the edge of it.”

She giggles softly, unable to contain how that pleases her. Her hands delicately grace his throat, resting there as she kisses just below his ear, then his jaw, the corner of his lips.  She slides her hands down his trembling body like reading scripture in braille as she kisses his throat (twice), his chest, his ribs… 

When her hands rest they are on either side of his waist, thumbs brushing up and down his stomach. His fists clench as she kisses his sternum, just above his belt, darting her tongue out for a millisecond. He twitches his hands, and in his pants. 

“I'm one move away from failing, MC," his voice is a husky groan as his head is thrown back, hands balled into shaking fists. "Is this a punishment... or...?”

“…Or?” she echoes, voice low, breath warm against his skin. She doesn’t lift her head. She just hovers there, lips parted just above the line of his belt, her fingers now resting unbearably light over his hip bones. The control in her touch is both maddening and deliberate. Calculated.

“...Do you want to keep going?” Caleb’s voice is gruff, harsh with self-control and want. “If you keep going, I won't be… able… to let you off the hook. Even if you claim you're doing… it on a whim…” He's breathless, frustrated, his knuckles turning white with gripped restraint. 

Her reply is syrupy and as sweet as it is torturous. “Shh… Are you forgetting” Another kiss to his sternum... “Who” A kiss to the cool metal of his buckle. “Is in charge?” Her breath hovers below his belt, her mouth centimeters away from his clothed arousal.

“Please…” Caleb chokes out,  desperately hanging by a tight thread of control. 

She lifts her head at this, allowing the word to linger in the air for just a moment before responding with a sweetened smile and a whispering voice. “You sound so desperate, Caleb… I like this… the sound of you begging for me… Music to my ears.”

He groans and it's deep and guttural, pained pleasure wrapped in reverence. His eyes flutter open, just enough to meet hers through the haze of desire and restraint.

“That’s because I am desperate,” he grits, voice shaking. “For you.”

Her lips curl into something between a smirk and a smile, satisfaction, maybe. Or mercy, laced with a promise she hasn’t decided to grant yet.

“You’re doing so well,” she whispers, almost mockingly tender as her fingers dip just under the waistband of his pants, but don’t venture further. Her touch is light, barely there, a spark without flame. “And you’ve been so obedient.”

His hips twitch, bucking just slightly beneath her, involuntary, restrained.

“I told you,” he breathes, “I’ll do anything. Just… please.”

She hums again, eyes half-lidded. “Mmm… you almost sound like you're sorry.”

“I am sorry,” he groans. “I’m so sorry.”

That does it.

She sits up slowly, eyes locked with his, hands dragging up his sides as she speaks.

“Good. Because only good boys get what they want.” A beat. “And you’ve been so good for me.”

He barely has time to exhale before she leans in again, this time with intent.

And then, all at once, she kisses him hard, pushing him flat against the couch again as the dam of tension finally, finally snaps. His hands rise, cautiously at first, then urgently, moving to grip her waist, as he grounds himself in the fact that yes, finally, the test is over.

She moves to unbutton his pants and undo his belt,  pulling it out of his pants and tossing it to the floor with a clank. Suddenly, Caleb's evol is hovering her above him, suspending her in air until he flips their positions. 

He's lifted up above her his hands and buff arms on either side of her head. “I might… fuck” he kisses her collarbone while moving one arm to take off her shirt. She lifts her arms as he pulls it up and off her, and the fabric joins his on the floor.

“You might what?” She asks him, her voice cracking with anticipation.

He bites her neck, drawing a mangled moan from her at last. He's breathing like an animal and already damp with sweat. “I might have… run out… of self control.” 

“You earned it… do your worst– and don’t make me wait for it.” She mutters, gripping him tightly. Knowing that with him, she always gets what she wants. One way or another.

[cloudwisp]

Caleb and the constant yearning for you to need him and to hear the words coming from your lips. He’s already given you everything he could think of, protection and safety that makes you feel so insulated from the world. But when you need him for something else entirely that goes beyond the boundaries of your close relationship, it feeds into his appetite that he won’t be able to control if you continue to keep this up.

What started as a playful wrestle for the remote turned into you pinning him on the ground, your faces impossibly close so that you could feel the warmth of his breath blending with yours. You have the upper hand yet you’re right where he wants you as tension crackles between you and him. The shared glances clouded with lust make the intentions known when they slowly flit and linger for a sweet taste. He doesn’t have time to process before softness embraces his lips and he surrenders all senses to you.

Caleb has dreamt about this for a long time. How it would feel to squeeze the flesh of your hips and pull you closer to him, how he would respond to swallowing your moans against tongueful kisses as you lose yourself humping his warm and growing arousal in his pants. He feels so dangerously good under you, making you crave more when his hand travels beneath your shirt and teases you by tracing the underside of your breast with his thumb.

You both eventually come up for a desperate inhale to return air back into your lungs. Your cheeks flushed and parted lips swollen as you gaze down only to receive an amorous stare back at you. He chuckles softly, a smile making way and his palm cups the side of your face. “You know, I didn’t think you had that in you. Not that I didn’t enjoy the kiss... it was nice.”

His hand lowers and brushes the pad of his finger along your bottom lip. And new thoughts emerge like how your mouth would feel wrapped around his thumb as he gently presses down on your tongue. “You’re beautiful, have I ever told you that?”

“Caleb… I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me.” You glance away amidst the heat of your embarrassment, and you still feel lightheaded from the remnants of the intense exchange. Some things can’t be easily undone once you start them, and yet you feel an overwhelming urgency to kiss him again. His shirt crumples around your clenched fist while your mind tries to make sense of your suppressed feelings for your childhood friend.

“Hey, hey. You didn’t do anything wrong, princess.” He carefully shifts you onto your back, tilting your chin to make you face him again. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll take care of it, hm?” He tests your reaction by hooking one of your legs over his hip and his knee slowly parts your thigh causing your breath to hitch when he makes contact with your clothed clit. He leans down to plant light kisses on your forehead, his fingers curling around the waistband of your skirt tugging at it playfully. “Can you do that for me?”

It’s adorable to him, truly. How precious and vulnerable you look with those eyes full of longing because you also share the same burning desire for something more with him. When you grant him consent with a small nod of your head, he promises that he won’t hold back pouring every ounce of his love and devotion into you that he has withheld for too many years.

[demonic0angel]

EDAAAAA!!! GIVE ME AN AU WHERE DANNY IS AROACE/ACE AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSS!!!!

- from your beloved moot. A.E. 👻

(Aroace Danny is a great idea, but I just can’t think of any ideas rn, so ace!Danny it is)

Danny fidgeted with his fingers as he cuddled against Tim. Tim didn’t notice at first, entirely focused on his computer but when Danny was silent for too long and seemed to be finding the courage to say something, Tim turned to him.

“What’s up?” He asked.

Danny winced from the question. Then he asked, “Do you… ever want more?”

Tim blinked. He was very confused on what Danny was asking, but he paused before he could say something stupid. “… want what?” He eventually asked.

“… more. With our relationship?”

Tim’s eyes widened. “Me??”

Danny nodded and looked at his feet. “We’ve been dating for almost a year now. Do you… want to go further? I thought you would’ve asked by now….”

It wasn’t in Danny’s nature to be so roundabout. Usually, he was very blunt and hated beating around the bush. In fact, this was very similar to the conversation they had when Danny first revealed the fact that he was trans.

Tim stared at him, trying to decipher his true meaning. His brain was quickly filtering through the previous week, trying to find anything that could’ve hinted at the conversation right now.

“Uhm. Are you talking about sex?”

Danny turned pale and looked at his hands. Then he nodded slowly.

Tim barely withheld his sigh of relief. He was almost wondering if Danny was about to reveal that he had an evil twin or something.

Gentling his voice, Tim took his hand, squeezed it, and said, “It’s okay. I know that we’ve been dating for a while, but there’s no rush. I don’t have any desire to push you into doing anything you don’t want to do.”

Danny suddenly blurted out, “I’m asexual!”

Tim blinked again. “Sure. I don’t mind.”

The look in Danny’s eyes, hopeful and unsure, almost broke Tim’s heart. “Y-You sure? Because I don’t think I want to… have sex. Not that it’s your fault! It’s just because I—”

“Like I said,” Tim said with an amused smile, “I don’t mind. A relationship doesn’t need sex to succeed. It’s okay, I promise.”

Danny stared at him, searching his face for anything before he broke into a smile and relaxed. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” Tim dismissed, squeezing his hand again. “I thought you were going to tell me that you have an evil twin or something.”

Something strange flitted over Danny’s expression.

Tim stared at him in horror.

“Danny?! Tell me you don’t have an evil twin!!”

[quarterlifekitty]

reader who doesn’t mind when the tf141 boys don’t shower cause they like the stink.

I’m sorry I’ll shut up now

Please never shut up. Say whatever you want forever.

cw: scent kink. Unsanitary. So nasty

I think Gaz has the highest standard of personal hygiene on the team (his beautiful skin doesn’t come for free), and his usual instinct is to shower. He’s the kind of person who can’t relax feeling gross. So while he loves you, man is probably gonna keep showering all the time. He does think it’s really funny when you ask if he’s showered yet and whine when he says yes.

Soap is one of those people who’s like “fuck the shower” every time he’s not in the shower but once he gets into the shower he’s like “fuck being out of the shower”. Anyways I personally believe he also has a major scent kink and he’s almost too comfortable being unwashed and sweaty, and he totally embraces you liking it. Always asking you if you wanna get a good whiff in before he showers after a workout. As long as you return the offer…

Ghost is one of those people who doesn’t shower sometimes just due to apathy, sometimes self-loathing, so he has a complicated relationship with your love of his stink. Honestly, you leaning into his side and just burying your nose in his skin like an addict is like his alarm of “I’ve taken this too far, I should probably shower”. World’s weirdest grounding technique.

Price is using that against you. You’ve given him a bargaining chip. So yeah, he’ll hold off on a shower, but you have to do something he likes in exchange…. Maybe you’ve gotta let him eat your ass (which you’re not usually a fan of) or let him have you collared in public (embarrassing).

König thinks it’s cute that you like his man smell. Honestly, any kind of fetish you have for something of his is cute to him. He just loves that there are things about him that you’re obsessed with, no matter how weird they are. God knows he’s obsessed with so many parts of you in a fetishistic way. Man is totally excited to come home unshowered, because he likes you clingy.

Nikolai views it as another avenue of devotion, of dependency. And like everything, he uses it to dominate you. It’s something that can be given in reward or withheld in punishment. He’ll call for you after he’s done a lot of work in the hanger or garage, anywhere that he’s currently practicing mechanics, and have you sit on his lap on the couch, face buried in his neck or his armpit while you give him a pussyjob. Lets you lick the sweat from his balls before he puts his cock down your throat. Who said that.

[oldschoolfic-ds9]

Rabbit in the Headlights

by Sosueme, 2003

Blood is not a good lubricant.

Words: 1902, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: violence, rape, nasty

Characters: Julian Bashir

Relationships: Bashir/undisclosed character

Reader suggested tags (what are these?): none

links (link broken? report it and try the archive.org alternative):

ASCEM newsgroup / ASC newsgroup

archive.org - option 1 / option 2

[spatialwave]

pink is your colour.

➸ ask: "you're gonna get lipstick all over me" with Viktor while he and reader get ready for an event. I need some fluff right now, I’m grieving )):” — ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 605 ➸ tags: mdni! fluff, kissing, lipstick kisses, established relationship, drabble, s1 viktor, no mention of y/n. ➸ notes: ok this was so cute to write. going to simply die with all this fluff content you’re sending me!! tysm for asking, love! 🤍 came from this prompt!

A speech and dinner. That’s all Viktor had told you about the event he’d been invited to, alongside Jayce. Enough to understand, but too little to not fully grasp what this mysterious event could be.

You weren’t a councilman, nor were you an academy student. No, you had just been a lucky bird who ran into Viktor one late night when he’d been returning home from the academy, and you were wandering around so you could get things off your mind. It was an off-chance meeting when you stumbled right into him, the song you’d been quietly whistling ripped from your lungs when you toppled backward.

It was fate, the red string, that finally pulled you together. Or that’s what you liked to think.

“So, is this an academy thing?” Your voice rang from your bedroom, perched upon the stool in front of your vanity as you touched up the pink lipstick you’d swiped along your lips, “you’re being awfully quiet about it. What if I dress too fancy and embarrass myself? Or worse, not fancy enough!”

Viktor stepped into the bedroom, hand on his cane as his eyes flickered around the room until they landed on you. Your eyes locked in the reflection, and you turned on your stool, facing up.

You were perfect, wearing a beautiful dress that reached just above your knees. A dress your mother handmade for this occasion, a well-known seamstress in Piltover.

“You look good,” he answered earnestly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “it’s an academy gala, I think. I…” he crinkled his nose, “I don’t really know exactly what it, eh… is. I wasn’t listening when Jayce reminded me.”

“And you didn’t think to ask?” You stood up after packing away your belongings, smoothing down your dress with fingers that had been delicately painted to match the colour of your clothing.

“It’s a fancy Piltover event, they’re all the same. It isn’t a big deal,” Viktor mumbled, looking down and noticing that he’d buttoned up his vest incorrectly, one side lower than the other.

With a sigh, you waltzed over to your lover, hands beating him to the button as you undid them. You were meticulous with your movements, adjusting the clothing along his slender frame once it was rightly fitted.

“Then why do you look so nervous?” Your eyes glanced up to meet his, a smirk pulling one side of your lips up.

“Not nervous,” Viktor rolled his eyes, attempting to pull away, but you were on him too quickly.

“You look good, too. I know you’re worried about it,” you grinned as your lips pressed to his chin, and you peppered a slurry of kisses against his smooth skin. It was enough to bring a smile to his lips, to let his nerves rest.

This was his first event, after all. He had simply withheld the information.

Viktor tried to pull away from your kisses that attacked his cheeks now, grinning like a fool in love, “You’re going to get lipstick all over me,” he groaned, hands grabbing at your jaw so he was able to tear your loving lips from his skin.

He stared down at you, still smiling as giggles erupted from you.

“It’s fine. The colour suits you,” you hummed, knowing very well that your freshly applied lipstick had completely smudged from your lips because there were streaks of pink over his skin.

“You are troublesome, you know that?” he mumbled, trying so hard to be annoyed, but how could he when you looked at him so lovingly.

“Just a little,” you smiled, closing the distance between your lips.

[morverenmaybewrites]

Lessons on Love | Jason Todd x Reader

What lesson about love are they still trying to learn?

Asked by @/citrussaurus

Literally everything. 

I think that Jason’s experiences have shaped him into someone who has quite an unhealthy view on love and relationships: the lack of a positive example of a healthy relationship during his childhood years, the confusing (but not entirely loveless) relationship he had with Bruce Wayne, and eventually his years of rage and isolation as the Arkham Knight. 

By the time post-Arkham Knight rolls around, Jason has a deeply unhealthy view on love and relationships.

And yet, despite this, I feel like he craves this. More than that he’s starved for it. 

I think a part of him hopelessly, desperately wants to be held dear. He wants a place to belong, someone to belong to. 

And it’s his great tragedy that he doesn’t know how to ask for it and more importantly, he doesn’t know how to receive it. Sometimes, Jason loves so quietly that it’s hard to see it as love –because God knows that no one in his life ever taught him to properly communicate. 

I picture the way Jason seeks affection like a starved street dog: there’s a hunger to it, a thirst.

(After all, if you have spent your whole life being starved of something, isn’t it only natural to seek it out, even if it’s just the bare scraps? And here you are, willing to give him your whole heart.)

But there’s also a sort of tension, then animal instinct to flee after being kicked more than several times for it.

I picture him as always perched at the edge of things: waiting, waiting for the inevitable moment where the rug is pulled out from under him, when the affection you had always so freely given will suddenly be withheld, and he will be left starving again, a hole at the center of him that he has no idea how to fill.

(But oh you are worth the fall.)

But I always think of him as physically perched on things, especially on the early days of your relationship: the edge of towering skyscrapers, hovering in your doorway just barely stepping into your threshold until you finally have to ask him to come in, your windowsill, just barely keeping himself out of the rain. He’ll try to act relaxed, but really, he’s tense as a bird about to take flight. Always, always prepared for the moment where he’ll be asked to leave.

(And yet, and yet, all he wants is that you ask him to stay.) 

He doesn’t know how to show you affection, doesn’t know how to ask for it. All he’s ever known is how to make himself useful. 

(After all, useful things don’t get thrown away. Useful things don’t get asked to leave.) 

He’ll keep you safe, which in Gotham City is no small feat, keep the villains away from your door: from the small-time crooks who target regular civilians for just that extra bit of cash to the supervillains whose plans would likely involve you (and the rest of Gotham City) as collateral.

And at first, it’s eerie: the sudden silence in your life, the feeling of peace, of being looked out for. You have never gone so long without encountering some sort of mugger or been involved in a bank robbery.

Then perhaps one day, you’ll get a text from an unknown number, asking you to stay away from Gotham Square that day. When you try to call to get more information, it comes up as Unavailable. And perhaps a week after that, you’ll get a similar text from a different, this time telling you to avoid Bleake Island.

Perhaps you solve it quickly or perhaps, not at all and it takes you a while to put together the pieces: Jason has been keeping you safe. 

And when you decide to talk to him about it, he’s cagey, almost embarrassed. He won’t deny it, but at the same time, when you try to thank him or show you appreciate him, he’ll react with confusion. 

After all, keeping his loved ones safe is second nature to him. In fact, I feel like it’s the one act of love that all of the Bats are comfortable with. 

He’ll do other things for you too. He’ll get up and make dinner after a long day, despite having just come back from a grueling mission, he does the dishes without being asked, hell, he’ll sometimes even throw in a load of laundry for you–taking a an unexpected pleasure from seeing the way your clothes are mixed in with his, the simple solid domesticity of it, at how your lives have become so intermingled that he now has to separate your socks from his. 

In short, he’ll do acts that, while on the outside seem nice, would sometimes border on servile. 

When you try to show him how much you appreciate what he does, he’ll be even more embarrassed: there’s an odd tension around his shoulders, the slightest dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

(And oh, Jason hates the way he blushes, knows the way it discolors around the brand on his cheek, the way it doesn’t redden along with the rest of his skin, but instead stands out, ghostly pale.) 

So he’ll shrug it off, barely being able to look at you. Acutely aware of how strange and monstrous he looks.

And even more so, he’s painfully aware of the reason he’s doing these things. Not only because he wants to take care of you (and he does), but because it’s the only way he knows how to be useful, how to be needed. 

How to be asked to stay.