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missbubblesoda · 2 years ago

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early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (15)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 5.5k

You pushed the hardwood door carefully, just enough to allow yourself in. But, contrary to what you had expected, he wasn’t sitting at his desk.

Your eyes scanned the office, completely engulfed in darkness, and figured it must be very early in the morning. At this time, there was only one place he could be.

You headed for the door that led to his room and pushed it open slowly, careful not to make it creak more than necessary. You assumed he wouldn’t mind you inviting yourself into his personal space. You had been there before, not too long ago.

But he wasn’t there either.

Surprisingly.

The moonlight, sneaking in through the crystal windows, made the white sheets of his bed glow, and provided the only source of light in his cold, empty room. Cold. Why is it this cold? Your eyes instinctively traveled to the fireplace. He must have forgotten to light it on. It’s going to be freezing when he comes back. You thought. Because, maybe it wasn’t that early in the morning, after all. Maybe it was very late into the night, and he was yet to come back from wherever he had gone for the day.

You stood in the middle of the empty room. Waiting for something to happen. Anchored in place by the tightness pounding in your chest. Maybe it was the excitement you felt at the thought of seeing him again.

No. It was something else.

You turned your attention to the bookshelves, where he kept his journals, and scanned their spines as if searching for something. You knew what you were looking for, but you didn’t know how it looked. If that made sense.

There was a growing pit in your stomach. Maybe it was the anticipation you felt at the thought of being held in those strong, well-muscled arms once again.

No. It was something else.

Your painfully parched throat told you so. And your fingers, trembling as they reached for the small notebook lying forgotten on his bed, reminded you that you probably shouldn’t read what was clearly not written for you. Because that name, the one his impeccable handwriting was spelling on the first page, it wasn’t yours. It was the name of a woman, yes, but that woman was not you. And the more you stared, the more frustrated you grew, because the thing is, you actually didn’t know how to read this name. In fact, you didn’t even know what language it was. Oddly enough, you were certain it was a female name. Ilsa? Stella? Frida? Marie? It really didn’t matter. Did it?

You glanced over your shoulder in the direction of the door, the same way stray cats do before crossing the street. Your heart was beating in a forbidden way, while a dangerous cocktail of adrenaline and curiosity was influencing all your decisions. You stared at the notebook you held in your hands, and realized it was a twin of the black one he kept with him at all times. There was something about this one, however. It was thicker.

More tempting.

With hesitant fingers, and painful apprehension digging a hole in your chest, you finally turned the page. And, as soon as you read the first sentences, you understood it: you understood that it was her.

It must be her.

The one he was talking about in these entries.

Your vision started to get blurry, and, although you weren’t able understand all the sentences he had written, you understood enough.

‘…wonder what it would be like today.’

‘…thought I saw you the other day’ and

‘will never love another…’

It was exasperating, torturous even, to only understand pieces. The rest of the sentences were in a foreign language you had never seen in your life. The same language her name was written in.

“What are you doing?” A familiar, flat voice startled your heart out of rhythm.

You looked back, surprised to see Captain Levi standing in the doorway.

“I asked you a question.” His eyes traveled to the small notebook you held in your trembling hands, and then back to your face. “Stop crying, brat. You’re going to ruin the pages.”

Crying? You slowly lifted a hand to your face, and traced the wet trails running down your cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” Captain Levi asked.

“That’s what she usually does.” Another familiar voice, deeper than the Captain’s, could be heard approaching from the Commander’s office. “She doesn’t know better than to cry when she’s overwhelmed.” A wrinkled face, one you were fairly acquainted with, finally revealed itself. “I told you, that little habit of yours… that’s the one titans find particularly appetizing. Compose yourself!”

Instructor Shadis? What was he-

“Actually, I don’t care why you’re crying. Let’s get out of here before Erwin kicks us all out.” Captain Levi looked just as displeased as always.

“Where is the Commander?” You asked timidly, fearing you might get yelled at.

“He said he will be here by morning.” But this time it was Shadis the one to reply.

Morning? You looked at the windows, and squinted your eyes at how bright it was outside. Noon-bright. When had it gotten like that? Your eyes hurt. And the light was so intense it forced you to close them… until you couldn’t see anything anymore…

“He will be here in a few hours.” Your mother opened the curtains, welcoming the early morning sunlight into the room. Relief also found its way in through the crystal windows, as you realized this was your bedroom, not the Commander’s office, and that you hadn’t actually breached his trust by reading his private journals. You’d like to think the real you would never do such thing. She could still pride herself on the fact that she knew better. Better than to pry into other people’s private affairs.

And most importantly, you were glad. Glad you didn’t find a journal dedicated to her in the Commander’s room. If there was such thing after all, you were happy to never confirm its existence. Delighted to live in blissful ignorance forever. Or at least for as long as you could.

As you curled into a ball, blanket pulled all the way up to your chin, you stared at your mother, who was now lighting the fireplace, and basked in the relief you felt that it was just her, and not actually Captain Levi or Instructor Shadis. That would be awkward.

“Goodness. How were you able to sleep without the fire? It was freezing last night.” You smiled at her through heavy eyelids. You missed the base, that was true, but you couldn’t deny that it was nice to be back home, under the warm care of your mother. It was nice to-

Wait.

Who will be here in a few hours?

“I’m not interested.”

“Well, he clearly is. Otherwise he wouldn’t be coming all the way here just to see you.”

“I didn’t even know his name until literally five minutes ago. So no, Mother, I’m definitely not interested in meeting him.” You said as you added an immoderate spoonful of honey to your orange juice. “It’s a shame he’s spending his time and resources traveling all the way here.”

“I agree, so could you please just give him an opportunity?”

“Mother, this conversation is not helping my headache.”

“Headache?”

“I had a bad dream last night.” You explained, as you sat at the breakfast table.

“It’s not because of that. It’s because you forgot to light on the fireplace last night. You’re catching a cold.” She replaced the glass of orange juice you had just prepared, with a steaming cup of something that smelled delicious. “As I was saying, I know he’ll grow on you, like he did on your father.” Your mother also placed a bowl of peeled tangerines next to the bread basket. “Have these, I just sliced them. They’re as sweet as you like them. You’ll like him if you meet him.”

“Thank you.” You said, reaching for the bowl of fresh fruit. “I disagree, Mother. He may be nice, I believe you on that. Goodness. These are exceptional! Thank you.” You admitted, mouth completely stuffed, but fingers already reaching for the next slice regardless. “Anyway, where were we? Oh right! You can be sure I won’t be marrying him anytime soon.” You took a sip of the tea your mother had prepared for you, and closed your eyes as it warmed your insides, thinking about how much you wished to excel at something the way she did in the kitchen. “Or far, for that matter.”

No matter what this man your parents had invited for lunch looked or talked like, you knew you wouldn’t fall for him. And you said this with all the confidence and conviction a person’s heart was able to house. It was not impossible for this gentleman to be every bit as charming and good-looking as your mother had described, he could be all that and more, but you knew it was physically impossible for him to ‘grow’ on you, regardless. Not when there was no space available. Because, the thing is, someone else had already started setting roots on the land where that type of feelings were supposed to grow.

“Who’s even talking about marriage?” Your mother sighed as if she had just heard the most outrageous of ideas. “Honey, you don’t have to choose him if he’s not the right one. You don’t even have to look at marriage today if that’s not what you want. Just think of him as a new friend.” But? You knew there was more to it. “But, unless you are planning to stay single forever, you are going to have to go through this at some point or another. Sooner or later. That is a fact. Are we on the same page?” You nodded, mouth still full of tangerine slices. “And, look at you, you’ve already blossomed into womanhood!” The emphasis your mother placed on that last sentence made it sound as if it had happened just yesterday. “Isn’t it better to go through all this process now? While you’re young and have plenty of charm, as well as the attention of such a respectable, young man?”

Your mom sat on the chair beside yours, and remained silent as she watched you spread butter on your toast. But, after a few minutes, she sighed. And the gentle, warm hand she placed on your shoulder told you that you were about to get to the part where she explained why this meeting was so important to her.

“Honey, I think it’s time you start thinking about this part of your future too. It needs some of that attention.” She spoke softly, although there was audible worry and desperation in her voice. “Just a little of that attention you give to that professional side of yours, which, don’t get me wrong!” She rushed to add. “I understand that too, and I’m happy that you have a job you feel so passionate about. Your father and I, although scared, are very proud of you. You look so healthy and happy for someone who is in the Survey Corps.” You chuckled, remembering how many letters you had to write to your parents after you told them you had joined the scouts. You had lost count of how many weeks you spent trying to calm and reassure them, trying to convince them that you weren’t suicidal in any shape or form.

“But I’m just worried. I worry about you, honey. Everyday. Not only because of the dangers of your line of work, but also because, once you go back to the base and seclude yourself down there for another year, your chances of meeting someone…” She paused and looked at your plate, as if asking the bread if the words she was about to say were the right ones. “Your chances of meeting the right one, will decrease dramatically. And although it may seem like I’m forcing this situation on you, I promise you that is not my intention. At the end of the day, the choice is yours. You can sit around and wait until the right one comes, or you can start taking steps to meet him.”

While you appreciated your mother’s words and her sincere concerns about your future, you would certainly appreciate it more if she hadn’t arranged this meeting in the first place. But, although you weren’t excited at all about spending your Sunday afternoon faking smiles to please some random stranger while he bragged about the country estate he had just acquired, you knew your mother meant well. And, you also knew that, regardless of this man’s looks, wealth, or personality, this meeting was not leading anywhere, at least not anywhere near the destination your mother had in mind. Plus, he was already coming anyway, and nothing you said would stop this lunch from happening. So, all things considered, you rolled your eyes and sighed one more time before giving a reluctant nod to your mother.

“Who is this Lord Angert again?”

When his lips met the back of your hand and his forest green eyes looked up to meet yours, you had a déjà vu. When he handed you the box of figs he had so kindly brought for you, you also had a déjà vu. You had the exact same tin box in your night stand back at the base.

And when a bitter gust of wind carried in the familiar smell of climbing hydrangeas, you couldn’t help but travel back in time, to that chilly night last fall. Back then, however, the scent of the flowers was saturated with addictive, musky notes, and soaked in the smell of frost. Now, the air was infused with lemon and cinnamon, as well as the smoky smell left by the midday sun as it tried to warm up the pavement.

That night, the hair had been blonde, not hazel. Oh, and your heart, your heart had been threatening to break your ribcage. But now, it seemed to be sleeping soundly inside your chest.

“Thank you for accepting to meet me in such short notice, my lady.”

“Thank you for coming all the way here, my lord.” You smiled politely at the tall, fair-skinned man you had in front of you. He was surprisingly young. You had been expecting someone a little older, who looked and acted like those you had met at the ball, since your mother said that was where you had ‘charmed’ this man. But so far, at least on the outside, Lord Angert seemed to be nothing like that.

“You might not remember me, so I’ll introduce myself again.” You realized the color of his voice, as well as the way his luscious wavy hair excitedly danced with the wind, were the main factors contributing to his youthful appearance. He could be your age. Or even younger. And you really didn’t remember seeing anyone like that at the party. “Leon Angert, at your service.” He smiled and his eyes adopted the shape of crescent moons.

“Have we met before, my lord?”

He let out chuckle that could only be described as refreshing, one that let you know he already suspected you wouldn’t remember him, and then said: “We did. The night of the charity ball. We were introduced by my uncle, Lord Koch. Well, actually my uncle introduced me to Commander Erwin Smith of the Survey Corps, and you were with him, so yes, I guess we met by association.”

You found his response quite amusing. What did that even mean? Didn’t everyone meet by association? You looked down at the tin box you held in your hands, trying to buy yourself some time while you browsed through your recollections of that night, seeing if you could find something. But it was no use, all you could remember was the Commander, his face, his tuxedo, his scent, his voice, and his touch. Especially his touch. Because even though he was now miles away, your lower back still tickled from where his fingertips had left their lingering mark that night.

“It’s okay to not remember. I’m not known for leaving lasting impressions.” Lord Angert said, and you felt sorry for the man. It wasn’t his fault. You were sure you would have remembered him if it wasn’t because all your attention had been monopolized by the man whose arm you had been holding onto the entire evening. Every single memory you had of that fall night was about him, and what he did, what he said to you, where he touched you. If it made Lord Angert feel any better, you didn’t remember anyone else from that party either. Save Lord Wald. But that was because of entirely different reasons, reasons you were trying to forget about.

“Well, it’s nice to formally meet you. Again.” You gave the man a friendly smile, trying to warm him from the freezing weather. And speaking about that, “Please come in, my family is waiting for you inside.”

As you guided him to the sunroom, you couldn’t help but notice how your footsteps felt way less heavy than you remembered they were when you went to open the door for him. At least at first glance, Lord Angert was nothing like you had imagined. You had braced yourself for dealing with some presumptuous guy, but the fact that he seemed to be decently kind and basic-mannered made the prospect of this afternoon look slightly more bearable. And you snorted to yourself, thinking about all the unnecessary drama your overthinking always put you through. You did have a tendency to catastrophize, after all. Your parents would never set up their daughter with the likes of Lord Wald. Would they?

And you were right. You had to admit that, even a couple hours later, this little reunion was going better than expected. It didn’t feel like an awkward date. It was more like a Sunday gathering with a cousin or a family friend. In addition, what your mother had said earlier was completely true, your father really liked Lord Angert. They had been engaging in a lengthy, animated, and quite interesting, conversation about mysterious, seedless pumpkins, and you were happy to be able to just sit back, listen, and enjoy your mother’s cooking.

“How’s Hansel?” Your father asked after he had grown tired of so much vegetable talk.

“Pretty good. He’s been quite busy supervising the training of the foals.”

“Training? That early?”

Lord Angert nodded as he took a sip of spiced wine. “The earlier you start training, the earlier you’ll see results. And, even as advanced adults, they will be sharper and more quick-witted than those who start training after two years, which is the standard.”

“Pretty interesting stuff.” Your father concluded, scratching his chin.

“That’s the secret to make the animals age exuberantly. I actually came to Mitras to supervise the acclimation of the yearlings we sold to the Military Police last month.”

So he hadn’t come just to see you as your mother had implied. For some reason, knowing that you weren’t the only reason he came to the capital made you feel very relieved and light.

“What breed are the yearlings?”

“We’ve been mostly focusing on draft horses. Black Forest and Friesian, to be more specific. They’re both relatively small, yet muscular, which makes them capable of pulling heavy carriages at high speeds.” Lord Angert explained animatedly, clearly appreciating your father’s interest in the topic. “They’re faster and braver. And not as sensitive to noise, which means they don’t get scared as easily.”

You didn’t know what breed the horses back at the base were, but you wondered if the Survey Corps used a similar training for their animals, since they were the calmest, smartest horses you had ever seen. They adapted so well to any rider, whether it was their usual person or a complete stranger.

“So, Lord Angert. You met our daughter at the charity ball last fall?” Your mother was clearly trying to stir the conversation into a direction you found particularly uncomfortable.

“That’s right, my lady. Uncle Hansel is good friends with Commander Smith of the Survey Corps, whom I believe your lady daughter is working under. And that’s how we were introduced. This pie is delicious by the way.” He commented, clearly more interested in the consistency of the pie’s crust than recalling the night you met. And you couldn’t help but find your mother’s disappointment quite amusing.

“My daughter doesn’t just work under Erwin Smith. She is his personal assistant. His right hand, if you will.” Your father spoke in that pretentious manner of his, the one he used when he wanted to embellish his stories or make a situation seem more important than it actually was. And this was the part where you usually cringed, every time. “He really appreciates her. Did you know he once saved her life during an expedition? It was my daughter’s first time beyond the walls.” But this time, you weren’t cringing, surprisingly. You had to admit you actually really enjoyed the sensation caused by the balloon growing inside your chest as your father narrated the story. He was making it his, however, obviously adding his personal touch, as well as some scenes that weren’t in the original version you had told him some months ago.

Lord Angert seemed just as interested in the story as you. And you finally understood why your father liked him. Your father loved to talk and Lord Angert was happy to listen, while he munched on the rhubarb pie.

“Truly remarkable, isn’t it? If it wasn’t for him slicing the titan’s head with one swift motion of his sword, my daughter wouldn’t be here with us today.” Your father concluded after minutes of talking, taking a sip of his wine. “I didn’t expect less of from the Commander of the Survey Corps. And, after the charity ball, he even made sure our daughter got home safe. I didn’t get to thank him personally that night. I’d like to do just that one day. But I digress, bottom line is he is very protective of my daughter.” A pleasant warmth spread throughout your skin, making you smile widely. You had never seen it that way, but now that your father mentioned it, the Commander was indeed protective of you.

“I know Erwin Smith is taking good care of my daughter.” At those words, the warm sensation started spreading to very inappropriate areas, namely the one between your legs. And, for some equally inappropriate reason, your mind didn’t hesitate to provide you with very detailed, explicit images of the commander fingering you in his office, after you had stripped for him. On the night you had slept together. And visuals were not the only thing you could call to mind, you could also hear your own moans, very vividly, as well as the sound of his wet fingers sliding in and out of your throbbing hole, as you moaned his name over and over, asking him to give you more. You pressed your legs tight against each other, deciding you probably had issues you needed to work on, since it was lunch time on a Sunday, for goodness sake.

“Commander Smith is truly a remarkable man. My uncle only has good things to say about him.”

“And that means a lot coming from Hansel, considering how fond he is of talking foul about others.” Your father’s laughter filled the room the same way the sun rays sneaking through the glass ceiling did, while Lord Angert chuckled and shook his head lightly, clearly acknowledging there was some truth in those words. And after a while, he said:

“Did you know Commander Smith regularly donates books to schools and libraries in the countryside? I heard it from my uncle.” Lord Angert explained with a motion of his fork. “Uncle Hansel was very good friends with Commander Smith’s late father. He used to do just the same before passing.” You leaned forward, suddenly more interested in this conversation than ever before. You never thought you would learn so much about the Commander under your own roof on such a random day, and from a complete stranger of all people. “And it’s not only children his kindness extends to. He pays my uncle a yearly commission for the rehabilitation of horses who have been injured while on duty.” Lord Angert paused to enjoy a slice of tangerine, and, in the meantime, you wondered how much the balloon in your chest could grow before bursting. “I’ve heard the other military branches just put them down. But Erwin Smith created a fund for their rehabilitation when he took office. And, as a horse enthusiast myself, I can’t help but respect the man.”

‘Is that true?’, your father asked you in the form of a glance he sent your way, and you nodded fervently, unable to stop a proud smile from taking over your features. This was the first time you heard about all this, but it wasn’t hard to believe the Commander would do all that and more. It was so in character for him. It was in his nature. And, at this point, you were convinced you would never get to see the full picture of him, no matter how far back you stepped.

You couldn’t help but notice that there was something refreshing in the air, and it wasn’t just the brisk winter breeze blowing outside, nor the lemonade you were drinking. A conversation that painted the Commander and the Scouts in a positive light was one of the last things you expected to hear during a family meal, and much less from your father or an aristocrat like Lord Angert, given how used you were to the negative talk you grew up listening to.

“I’ll admit I didn’t have many good things to say about Erwin Smith and his people, but that was before my daughter became one of them. You know, his right hand.” He cleared his throat in an attempt to seem unassuming, but clearly struggling in the process. “However, on my defense, back then, I was only going by what I read in the newspapers.”

“I’m sure he is a gentleman of exceptional character and bravery.” Your mother commented before turning to her guest. “It was a fortunate meeting, indeed.”

You were confused at first, and judging by the way Lord Angert froze, mouth open and fork in hand, so was he.

“At the ball that night. Between you two.” Your mother was not going to give up so easily, was she? You noticed the way she glared at your father, urging him to stick to the topic and cooperate.

“Right.” Your father cleared his throat again. “Hansel mentioned my daughter’s beauty was turning heads at the ceremony.” Your eyes rolled all the way to the back of your skull, and you cringed, not exactly because of the cold.

“Indeed, my lord. She looked truly captivating in her gown.”

“What dress did you wear, honey? I never saw it, now that I think about it. You were wearing that coat.” You almost choked on the sip of lemonade you had just taken, your mother’s question making your throat itch all of a sudden.

“The skill of the tailor and quality of the material really shone through.” Lord Angert replied on your behalf before turning to your mother, his eyes becoming crescent moons once again. “My lady, I’m deeply ashamed of my ravenous appetite, but, at the risk of coming across as gluttonous and opportunistic, I musk ask, do we have more of this glorious compote? My sweet tooth can’t get enough of this sensational texture!” You looked at him, and couldn’t help but return his complicit smile, fully knowing he really didn’t crave more dessert.

“I believe I should thank you for saving me from my mother’s scolding back there.” You said a while later, as you walked past your favorite tea house. The sun had already begun making its descent, but the afternoon was still warm enough to take a stroll around the neighborhood.

“No problem. I know what an unpleasant experience it is to be to be lectured by one’s parents, whether it is about wardrobe choices or one’s personal taste.” He replied, eyes looking straight at the path ahead of him, and you couldn’t help but feel that there was some deeper, darker meaning buried under those words, but you figured it wasn’t your place to pry.

“Mother says your background is in poetry, my lord.”

He nodded as the wind played with his locks. “I enjoy penning useless sentences from time to time.” He said, smiling in an unassuming manner.

“Really? Mother definitely made it sound as something more significant and special than casual penning.” She had also mentioned Lord Angert had partially moved to a cabin in a remote mountain village, so he could work on his new book without distractions. It sounded like a fascinating, rather cozy place to live. You looked at him with the intention of asking about his lifestyle, but that’s when you noticed his stare was completely lost in the cobblestones below his feet. He looked at them as if trying to choose the starting words to a tiresome speech, one he didn’t want to deliver.

“My lady.” He turned to you and, although he had only said two words so far, took a long, deep breath. “Your lady mother probably told you that I came all the way to Mitras because I couldn’t stop thinking about you after I met you at the charity ball. That’s what Uncle Hansel told your parents when he arranged our meeting last month, and I’m fully aware of how desperate it makes me look, and how uncomfortable it must make you feel to have a complete stranger suddenly so interested in you that he would come all the way to the capital just to see you. That’s why I would like you to know that all I said that night was that you looked stunning, and that I didn’t know Commander Smith was married to a lady of such staggering beauty.” He stringed all those sentences together very quickly, and without pausing to breathe, as if he feared oxygen would prevent the words from coming out. “And my uncle must have heard something completely different, because the next thing I knew is he has set up a meeting with your parents.”

“And they practically forced you to meet me.” You completed the sentence for him. “Goodness! That is so unbelievably embarrassing. My parents literally made it seem like it was love at first sight and you were going to propose to me by noon.”

“Well, I guess that’s why Uncle Hansel and your lord father are such good friends. They’re both very creative storytellers.”

You chuckled and, afterwards, all you could hear was your footsteps and the sound of the water running down the city canals. The silence was not the uncomfortable type, however. It was mutually conceded.

When you reached the city hall bridge, you felt compelled to speak. But before you could, he stopped walking, turned to you, and said:

“I don’t mean to hurt your pride, my lady, and make no mistake, you are absolutely beguiling, and I’m sure any gentleman would be over the moon if fortune presented them with even the slimmest of chances they could be promised your hand in marriage; but I’m afraid that, in the case of this senseless fool, the flame of romantic desire is not burning as bright as the wish I have to start a friendship with you.”

You laughed in a way your mother would have surely found strident. Lord Angert was truly a poet, after all. “That has to be the most beautiful way of saying ‘you were not what I was expecting’ I have ever heard.”

Lord Angert laughed and you joined him soon after. You appreciated his sincerity.

“Thank you very much for understanding, my lady. With that unnecessary social baggage out of the way, we can finally move to other topics. I believe you are acquainted with my good friend Jean.”

“Kirstein? Yes, he is in another unit, but we went to training camp together.” You explained, eyes studying the way the water sparkled under the sun. You had always found it mesmerizing. “Jean. How did you two meet, my lord?”

“You can just call me Leon.” He said, a smile carving dimples into his cheeks.

Later that evening, after both you and the sun had gone to sleep, your mind replayed the events of that day for you, in the form of a dream. But in the dream, the man sitting beside you at the family table, the one holding your hand as he charmed your father with exciting stories and complimented your mother’s rhubarb pie, he had golden strands instead of hazel locks, and sapphires instead of emeralds. And he would also hold your hand a little later as you strolled along the city canals, and he would only let go once you reached the bridge, where he would hold your waist instead, as his lips would linger on yours in the same entrancing yet melancholic way the setting sun did on the water.

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe

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lae-zels · 2 years ago

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V’naadra of Creche Fa’alrlal · draconic sorcerer · the Right Hand of Orpheus · 3/∞

#baldur's gate 3 #githyanki #oc:#v'naadra #ngl my top 3 bg3 oc bc her playthrough is so wild plus she's beautiful plus her wife is lae'zel plus she's my everything plus-#i remade her from a monkcerer to an unarmed fightcerer meaning these fists are now rated E for everyone and synergize with sorc #myedit #baldur's gate #bg3

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streetfarterturdstrike · 9 months ago

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Capcom finally actually added a homoerotic scene with the avatar featuring a male character and it’s with Terry Fucking Bogard of all people

#a character fujo’s we’re infamously uninterested in during the 90’s #because he had zero chemistry with the same sex #I myself honest to goddess only saw him as completely heterosexual #but his hands are now officially rated E for everyone #he actually literally sexually harassed tracksuit Travis #is this how you speak with your fists Terry?#is that why you wanted to go see Ryu again so badly #because he’s got the baddest backside in the fgc next to captain falcon?#Terry bogard #street fighter #spoilers

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writtenobsession · 1 year ago

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I was trying to get a screen shot my Tav with Karlach and she chose to kick my ass…

#Karlach I love you so much #Those fists are rated E for everyone #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 karlach #karlach cliffgate #silly Karlach

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oscarsgallery · 1 year ago

Note

"He's in the church, by the park, resting."

-♣️

OOC: "if I was a kinder person I would have been conflicted beating up a blind dude." 😭 Oscar never fails to make me giggle.

i don't know if i'm gonna win this fight in toddler form. but then again he won't see me coming.

#this fist is rated E for Everyone

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saricess · 2 years ago

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i'm sorry but i'm loving aaron's new attitude in emmerdale, eveything thing he says and his facial expressions keep making me laugh.

#emmerdale #he's not soft anymore #aarons fists are rated e for everyone #billy did make his life hell in prison so i can't blame him for fighting him #BUT i do need aaron to be happy again so @emmerdale bring robert back #or hazel aka jacksons mum

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theghostofprocrastination · 2 days ago

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AND THESE BITCHES HATE IT.

WHAT ARE THESE YOUTUBE REVIEWS??

You know that feeling of anticipation you get when something let's say a game, tv show, or movie gets announced? And then you get it and it somehow exceeds your every expectation?

I felt it once with Luca and Elio was the second time around. The smile I had on my face almost the entire time I watched this was amazing.

I don't make a habit of watching movies in 3D due to how uncomfortable they are on my face with my glasses but this movie was 110% worth nose pain.

I haven't been this stupidly happy in so long man. I love space, I love animation, mush them together and you get one very happy moviegoer.

I really really truly hate Disney for it's very late and very rushed promotion of this movie, forcing it's fans to pick up the slack and try to get people out there to see this. I also hate the fact that this movie would be so goddamn amazing to see in IMAX!!! Even for one night, this movie deserves the biggest screen possible man.

Anyway get out there and see Elio, it's cute, it's beautiful, it'll probably make you cry, and hopefully it'll bring us more space related animation soon. Also more original movies. Can't forget that one!

#I'm gonna fucking riot #I must air this bitch out #THIS IS THE LAST STRAW #SOMEONE'S GONNA GET IT #THESE FISTS RATED E FOR EVERYONE HOE 😡#LOOK I AM SORRY FOR THE EXCESSIVE PROFANITY BUT #IT'S WARRANTED I SWEAR #LIKE WHAT #disney #pixar #elio #disney elio #pixar elio #i'm going insane #disney pixar elio #elio solis #MY GLORIOUS KING #<- ELIO TAG

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goatgoesmbe · 5 months ago

Note

Y/N: Torturing König for information

König: Oh... that's quite nice

Y/N: Why can't anyone take me seriously. Fuck this, Ghost can deal with this

König: NO please- I can be normal about this!

Y/N: Can you.

König: ...no

Y/N: GHOST! COME HERE!

👀👀👀👀

Alright now, hear me out anon- i hope you don't mind me turning this to 3k words porn.

big thamks to my mommy-auntie (montie?) @ahobaka-trash for beta-reading

KonigxReader + GhostxReader

tw : edging, implied torture, hostage interrogation, blueballing, dead dove, free use interrogation, open ending

AO3

rated : E

word count : 3092

Ghost wasn't dumb. He knew exactly what was going on in that giant's head, ever since he saw you innocently beaming at them, gesturing at your catch, a hostage.

Konig was his name, a fucking colonel. No offense to you luv, but from how everyone glanced at each other, no one believed you could take down that hunk of a mountain.

But a hostage is a hostage.

"GHOST! COME HERE!" he heard you yell. After a nod from Price, he then stepped inside the interrogation room.

You were not assigned to interrogate him at first. But Konig is tight-lipped, barely flinching at any pain, and made no sound except when he demanded your presence.

Dark brown iris lazily trailed to their hostage, who was now shirtless- well except for the shirt on his head which they couldn't get off him. It was like the colonel simply let them do what they wanted, but put his foot down when they overstepped his boundaries. Like he was in charge instead of them.

Ghost took in the cuts and bruises. They definitely looked painful, unpleasant. But from what he heard when he stood behind the one-way mirror, the soft moans and heavy breathing, it seemed like it was doing the opposite.

bastard's fucked in the 'ead, the lieutenant thought.

The usual method of torture wouldn't work on him. Ghost needed to improvise.

He said nothing and simply stood behind you before leaning down to whisper in your ear "Do you trust me, luv?".

You looked back, big doe eyes blinked at him in confusion. That innocent look on your face always made him question how the fuck did you survive working alongside them all this time.

"Um.. yes-?" a gasp slipped out your lips before you could say more, gloved hand fisting your hair and tugging back towards him. You went rigid like a kitten held by the scruff.

"Yeah?" He asked again in a low purr, the other hand trailing up your torso to squeeze your tit.

You gasped again, staying still as your eyes immediately looked at the large mirror where you knew the others were watching. Expecting anyone to say something.

Silence

Like they were waiting for your greenlight. No interruption from your captain, nor the hostage. It was all up to you what's gonna happen next.

Silence, except for faint panting from the colonel tied up in front of you.

You nodded.

And instantly, your top was ripped off of you.

You didn't get enough time to react to it, your pants got yanked down, now pooling around your knees before slowly falling to your ankles.

"Y'gonna talk now?" Ghost asked, slipping into that persona he always used in this situation. Straight to the business and no-nonsense, nonchalant about his colleague who was now half naked in his grip.

You could see Konig's eyes darkened as his pupils dilated, his breathing was heavier than before. Then, his blown pupils glanced up at Ghost while he tilted his head as if he was taunting him.

The grip on your hair tightened and you were pushed forward just enough for Konig to lean in and tug your bra down with his teeth.

Your lips parted and you feel that clench. Mind and body against each other. You shouldn't be enjoying this, a voice in your head said, scolding you for getting your panties wet.

With your tits now exposed to the cold air of the interrogation room, your nipples perked invitingly. You held your breath when your hostage opened his mouth to have a taste, only for it to be denied when you got yanked back.

"Well?" Said a voice beside your ear, though it was directed at the man in front of you who stared unblinking at your lieutenant before trailing down to your breasts which were now being fondled by two gloved hands.

"..What do you want to know?" The colonel said, sounding serious for the first time since you've met him.

"You work for Makarov?" The question was growled at him, yet your body reacted with a shiver and you couldn't help but whimper. Red flushed your cheeks, your eyes once again darting to the mirror.

Konig simply hummed in response, and you couldn't really tell if that was a yes or a no. Ghost seemed to have the same thought since he pinched your nipples hard and pulled.

"Please-!" You yelped out a plea, not really knowing who it was directed to.

The cloth on the hostage's head shifted, he was licking his lips under the hood. "He is a client" he finally said. You let out a sigh of relief when Ghost loosened his hold but didn't let you go, massaging your breasts more softly as his fingers rubbed your nipples as an apology.

That was a big intel, Makarov is working together with Kortac. The colonel himself confirmed it, an enemy, not some unlucky passersby.

You tried your best to take all the information, you really did. But it was really hard with how your lieutenant fingers danced on the sensitive nubs.

"You were with ‘im?" Ghost asked. His voice is gruff yet steady compared to the colonel in front of you, like it's normal to use his coworker as an interrogation tool. To be honest, you are quite scared of what Ghost can do to you to make Konig talk.

And you're ashamed of yourself for how that fear brought heat to your core.

Konig didn't respond once again, a silent command for Ghost to do something. And you wondered who was really in charge here, definitely not you though.

Your train of thought was interrupted when a pair of strong arms hoisted you up, one leg raised until your knee was pressing against your chest while your other leg was left dangling. Despite the cotton panties covering your cunt, you still felt very exposed, being spread out in front of one of your enemies of all people.

A pathetic whine slipped out of your lips, which were swollen from you biting down on them previously. A thick finger rubbing between your folds through your panties. Slow yet firm, soaking the cotton even more.

"Were you with Makarov?" Ghost asked again, voice lowering an octave. Whether to intimidate or maybe he was just as affected by all this too.

"No" Konig responded shortly. His body shook slightly and you noticed how he tried to pull his hand out of the handcuffs behind the chair. Like he wanted to touch you, or maybe himself, from the obvious bulge in his pants.

You swallowed at the sight.

"D’you know where 'e is?" Your lieutenant asked as his finger kept rubbing you, trailing up to circle your clit through your panties which made you whine.

Konig stayed silent again. Like he didn’t want to interrupt the lewd voices you made as you slowly unraveled in your superior's hands.

Ghost clicked his tongue, feeling impatient but still played along with the game. His fingers trailed up to the waistband, trailing across the fabric slowly like he was taking his time appreciating the delicate panties before ripping it off and tossing it with your other torn garments.

Before you could have a chance to mourn the loss of your panties, two thick fingers rammed deep into your pussy. You could only squeal, throwing your head back against his shoulder. "Ah, ah, ah-" A gasping moan with each thrust aiming at your gspot.

"Where. is. Makarov?" Ghost growled, each word emphasized with a hard thrust that got you keening.

"Si- Ghost, please.." It took you a second to realize that was your own voice.

"Not up to me, sweet'eart" The lieutenant replied without taking his eyes off the hostage.

You panted, following his gaze to the colonel in front of you. His half-lidded eyes, pupils so wide with light blue outlining them, and if you focus past the wet squelching noises you can hear him breathing heavily.

"..Konig"

His whole body jerked at your plead. "Scheiße" You heard him hiss under his breath.

"I don't know, we only interacted through a third person or a call" He continued. With your mind all jumbled, you questioned for a second about who he was talking about, oh right Makarov, we're gathering intel on Makarov.

"Don’t even try lyin’" Ghost tutted and curled his fingers, pressing against that sweet spot that made you whine pathetically.

You heard Konig chuckle breathlessly. "Oh, i won't lie to this hübsche kleine schlampe. Don't want to break her heart" he shrugged.

Ghost held back from rolling his eyes and scoffed. "What’d 'e pay ya for, then?".

Expecting another silence, Ghost didn't wait for a response. Pushing you down on your knees before shoving your face onto the colonel's crotch. "Open" He whispered lowly in your ear, tilting your head just so, your lips pressing against the zipper on the hostage’s pants.

With your teeth, you tugged the zipper down. And your eyes widened when you saw his throbbing cock. You took in the veiny shaft, the pinkish tip glistening with precum under the dim lighting of the interrogation room. filthy git went full-on commando on his job.

"What’d 'e pay you to do?" Ghost asked once again as he pried your mouth open, a silent command for you to make good use it. Then you felt the colonel go rigid when you wrapped your lips around the tip.

"..Retrieving a package" The colonel answered as he tried to buck his hips, hoping to shove more of his dick into your mouth. You started to panic, you didn't know if you could take more. He was really big, too big. And that's something, since you've taken Ghost before.

"What's the package?" The lieutenant asked as he slowly pushed you down, forcing you to take more, not caring about your muffled noise.

You felt the tip nudging the back of your throat, your eyes tearing up and you whined around the girthy cock as Ghost kept urging you to keep going. This is how you're gonna die, choking on some enemy's dick.

"Verdammt- i don't know" You heard Konig say through gritted teeth when you felt your nose buried in a bush of hair, somehow managing to take all of him. Looking so pliant and pathetic, batting your wet eyelashes up at him, as you focused on remembering how to breathe.

Ghost jerked your head back, and forward, again and again. Fucking your throat with the colonel's dick, hard without mercy.

"Don't give me that bullshit" Growled the lieutenant. Though, he didn't expect a response, letting the hostage lose himself in the wetness of your mouth.

Before you were pulled back by your hair, letting go of the cock with a wet pop. And you heard Konig whimper, his cock twitched violently, robbed from his release.

It took a while for Konig to respond, trying to regain his control back from the pleasure, steadying his breathing before speaking. "I really don't know, they told me nothing, I asked nothing. We only care about finishing the job" He said. Though, you can see his eyes glint mischievously. He was keeping something from them and felt in control because of it. Taunting your lieutenant to give him more of you in exchange for that.

It seemed that Ghost thought of the same thing since he yanked you back up and forward. You thought he wanted you to sit on the colonel's lap and you were going to, but then he held your hip in one hand while the other still had a fistful of your hair.

Then he shifted you above Konig’s lap, until your pussy lips are rubbing against the tip of the colonel's cock. Taunting back.

"Try again" The lieutenant's voice rumbled. You didn't know if you imagined it but you could hear him smirk.

The colonel was holding back from bucking his hips. Not wanting to give in just yet so he could get more. Just a bit more. "As I said, I have no clue" He shrugged, the smugness in his voice is more obvious now.

Even though you had expected it, you still gasped. It was just the tip, but the stretch made you exhale shakily. Your legs trembled slightly, and you were sure without Ghost holding you up you would definitely fall onto the colonel's lap.

Konig sighed, whether it was in exasperation or pleasure you didn't know. Probably both.

"Missiles.. possibly nukes," The colonel said without being asked. "Overheard them talking about it, though my Russian is rusty so take it with a grain of salt" he continued.

Ghost hummed into your ear, gloved hand reaching down to toy with your sensitive clit. It was as if he was rewarding you for making the hostage give them such valuable intel.

Though, he didn't reward the man who gave the intel. Making him suffer by making you clench around his tip, not letting him sink even another millimeter of his dick inside you.

"Where are they stored?" The lieutenant asked, lips against your ear, hot breath making you squirm. There's an itch in your core, this was torture for you too.

"Stop movin’, princess, unless ya want me to stop 'ere" He whispered lowly so only you could hear it, stopping the circling motion on your clit to pinch so hard it almost hurt. It's too much, but also not enough. And now you're dripping down an enemy's dick like a slut.

"I can pinpoint the location on your map" Their hostage hissed, his voice was a bit shaky and those bright blue iris locked in at the spot you and him were connected. "Untie me" He added, his eyes now locked onto your lieutenant's.

Ghost scoffed condescendingly. "Ain’t 'appenin'" he said.

You heard the colonel let out a dry chuckle. "Worth a shot" he murmured to himself.

"Just shoot it" Ghost demanded whilst moving his fingers on your clit. Flicking with his thumb, sliding two fingers up and down whilst squeezing the sensitive nub between them, massaging the top agonizingly slow, making tiny circles.

"Go on, tell 'im, luv" Deep voice purred sultry into your ear and you cried out when he lifted the hood of your clit and roughly rubbed the exposed underside. You started shaking, your back painfully arching with the overwhelming pleasure. Too much.

"Konig.. Konig-" You pleaded pathetically, squeezing the head of his cock inside of you. More of your slick dripping down his shaft.

Konig groaned, both at the sinful sight and the way your sweet voice sang his name. "Why should I? I don’t need you slitting my throat once youget all the information" He sneered.

A gloved hand slapped your clit and you squealed. "Please, please-" You whined. Doe eyes all teary as you locked eyes with the hostage.

You could feel Konig jerk beneath you as your channel clenched uncontrollably around his tip.

"We won't" Ghost responded. "Be daft of us to get rid of a bloody colonel just for this shite, and you know it" He added.

Konig snorted in response but said nothing.

"So?" Your lieutenant asked once again, pushing for an answer.

"I assume you would keep me here to exchange for something with Kortac, it's rude to keep your guest tied, no?" Konig said mockingly, making Ghost narrow his eyes.

"You ain't no bloody guest" Ghost growled and pinched your clit again, tugging it painfully while his other hand pulled at your nipple in a similar way, making you go crossed-eyed. "Now, spit it out" The lieutenant added, his voice was booming compared to your little pleas "pleasepleaseplease".

The colonel sighed, like he took pity on you. "Abandoned hospital at the north" He finally said. And you could just kiss him for making Ghost let go of your sensitive nubs and rub them in a much gentler manner.

"Thought that was Al Qatala's base now" Ghost mumbled to himself, a bit too casually like he didn't just try to ruin you.

"Yeah, the Russian made a transaction with them," Konig said. Blue eyes trailing back to you, observing the state you were in.

"Now, I told you everything you need.." The colonel purred, eyes crinkling which made you think that he was smiling at you underneath the hood.

And with that, all hell let loose.

The lieutenant's hands on you started rubbing with the intention of making you come. He let go of your nipple and went south, tracing the rim of your entrance where you still have the head of the colonel's cock inside.

Your eyes widened when you felt his fingers slipping inside you again. Not caring that you were still stretched open.

Eyes crossed, toes curled. Panting and whining like a little puppy when you felt those fingers go deeper, rubbing your gspot at the same pace as his other hand on your clit.

Your thighs were trembling, your moans getting higher and higher as your climax threatened to wash over you. And then, Ghost didn't stop Konig from thrusting up this time and you lost it.

Wave after wave of pleasure, your cunt clenched uncontrollably around Konig, moaning like a whore.

Just when you wanted to grind down for more stimulation, Ghost lifted you by the back of your knees. Konig let out a string of curses in German, watching the way your pussy clenched desperately around nothing.

"..Simon" You whimpered, teary eyes looking up at him with a pout. You didn't have the capacity to care about saying his real name in front of an enemy after such orgasm. Looks like your usage for interrogations is finally over – and you are not sure whether you were useful or just looked pretty enough.

"Don't worry princess" He murmured, shifting his hold to lift you in a bridal carry. "You've been good, we'll reward you" And with that, he kissed your forehead. You didn't see the way his eyes shifted to the one-way mirror where the rest of the team had been watching from behind it.

You could only let him carry you out of the interrogation room, heavy steps from his boots filling the silence.

And Konig?

"Verdammte Hurensöhne!" Raspy voice boomed behind you before it was muffled as Ghost closed the door behind him. Not caring that the hostage still had his hard and throbbing cock out, wet from your slick and his own precum.

But of course, if you took pity on him and if you asked everyone nicely, maybe they would let him watch- or since the interrogation had been more than successful, he could join. Letting him enjoy their leftover, to fuck everyone’s cum deeper inside your cunt.

Just say the word.

...

taglist : @partiallysame, @niazrzl, @midwesternwitchery, @cupcake4440, @cupcake4440

#call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon ghost x reader #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod #mbe write #mbe's ghost #mbe's konig

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softlypaintedseafoam · 1 month ago

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one piece fic recs

because everyone else has fun listing theirs, so i wanna list the fics that changed my brain chemistry. there's some gen fics, ship fics, au fics and i'll be sure to included the ratings for each as well. beware anyone not fully caught up or at certain points in the story, there will be spoilers (but like... we should definitely talk about these recs together...)

gen

light up, light up by taizi (t)

“I have a condition,” Sabo says, sounding, to his own ears, disconcertingly like his father when his father is doing business. It might be that, more than anything, that causes Outlook to consider him thoughtfully. “I’m listening,” the man says.

where ace is the brother that 'dies' after the gray terminal incident and sabo and luffy are left behind

and i'd know your face if i was drunk and blind and dead by solena2 (t)

Sometimes, Sabo wonders about who he used to be. He gets the chance to find out when he bumps into Fire-Fist Ace at a bar.

TAT the fix-it fic of all time where the brothers of all time get a chance to be with each other once again. this is canon, oda told me so himself

a tall tree, with roots like a newborn by chali (t)

A closer look at the immediate aftermath of Whole Cake Island, because Sanji went through some shit and it was not nearly addressed enough.

a fic where the sasuke sanji retrieval squad learn the full extent of the things sanji experienced in wci. they would have truly crashed out if they knew what all went on

rebase and rebuild by sinelanguage (t)

Sanji’s hands are blown off on Whole Cake Island. Franky builds him prosthetics, but Sanji has a much harder time adjusting to them than anyone expects.

a fic where reiju didn't swap out the cuffs and now sanji has to deal with the consequences featuring phone calls with zeff! as if that makes everything any less angstier

a mercy out of me by merikai (g)

“These,” Sanji replied dully, raising his arms. “Handcuffs.” “Handcuffs,” Luffy repeated.

luffy and sanji having a bonding moment post-wci's events

and then what by grayimperia (t)

Zoro becomes the world’s greatest swordsman and is directionless in more ways than one.

ft frobin post-canon fic where, with his lifelong goal finally achieved, zoro isn't sure what to do with his life next

lionheart by cyan96

Wherein thirteen year old Trafalgar Law and twenty-six year old Rocinante tumble sideways through time-space via the blue desperation of a newly eaten devil fruit, from Minion island to a future distant. Right, unwittingly, onto the submarine deck of a another Law shortly after Doflamingo’s fall.

the rosinante lives fic i was not expecting to come across but the power of dope fanart dropped it in my lap

zosopp

take care of you by strawberrycamel (t)

In which Zoro and Usopp can’t see what’s in front of them.

a zou fic where zoro realizes he can totally use minkship as an exploit to cuddle his crush whenever he wants and usopp panics about it

frobin

how to dance with you by grayimperia (g)

When you meet a girl as super as Nico Robin, you learn to make sacrifices. Or, Franky learns to waltz.

ft. lusan wanting to waltz with robin whenever the opportunity again arises, franky asks sanji to teach him how to waltz. of course, not everything goes to plant

between thoughts and steel by inked_spirits (g)

Nights on the Sunny are long when sleep refuses to come. Robin needs to deal with her memories, Franky gets a chance to show her that some wounds are easier to bear when carried together. Night talks under the starry sky are a perfect cure for insomnia.

post-enies lobby fic centered around franky and robin after the first date of all time

lawzo

seeing a lab about a doc by rollingchibi (e)

This is all Bepo's fault.

ft. lusan college au a/b/o fic with alpha professor law and his omega TA zoro. there are shenanigans and smut, what else does one need?

stages of affection by rollingchibi (e)

Looking at himself in the mirror, at the haunted skeleton that looks back at him, he knows—knows as easily as he knows how to run a wire into someone's heart to remove a blood clot, knows as easily as he knows the list of side effects for a pacemaker, knows as easily as how much of a headache Dr. Crocus gives him by simply breathing near him—that things need to change, that he needs to change.

ft. lusan, usokaya modern au. sugar daddy lawzo fic, send tweet. also, plenty of straw hat misunderstandings and the author also found a way to incorporate luffy and zoro's post-timeskip scars into the story... but at what cost

needling away by rollingchibi (t)

"Sorry—you here for an appointment?" Unfortunately. He should've just gone with Bepo to get coffee.

ft lusan, josaku, past zosan surgeon law wants to get his tattoos touched up... sadly he walks in on the tattoo artists' homies going off about how it's fucked his best friend is dating his ex

luzo

these small hours by maximumqueer

"‘Grief’ is a word Zoro never he thought would associate with his captain, and he feels a bit stupid for that. Of course Luffy would grieve Ace, would probably never stop grieving him. Zoro sure as hell hasn’t stopped grieving Kuina, the promise he made her held tightly between his teeth with every fight, a small empty space in his heart reserved for her."

ft namivivi remember that episode post-wano where the straw hats were worried about vivi and zoro brought up ace? yeah nami gives him a STRONG talking to about the insensitivity of that statement

deadhouse by yamatossenpai (m)

"And then Zoro saw it. The mob rushed through the streets like floodwater, dividing and conquering. The men and women were frenzied; their mouths hung open, their eyes wide and bulging. They tore at each other, or rather, the mob attacked anyone who screamed. The attackers were ravenous, barely human. “If you don’t wanna die,” Luffy whispered, “then we should run.”"

ft frobin, usonami modern zombie au no one asks for but we all secretly think about our faves being in anyway. definitely mind the tags on this one

zosan

warning signs by olgaphobia (t)

*unrequited zosan, endgame lusan zoro's perspective fic where his inability to be vulnerable and refusal to be taken care of leads to him fumbling sanji contrast to luffy who has been open about his feelings from day 1. takes an interesting spin on zoro's absence in wci. imagine fumbling sanji when he was actually romantically interested in you at one point in the story, i would cry

lusan

warning signs by olgaphobia (t)

The cook left, but you weren't the one to bring him back.

ft unrequited zosan, end game lusan zoro's perspective fic where his inability to be vulnerable and refusal to be taken care of leads to him fumbling sanji contrast to luffy who has been open about his feelings from day 1. takes an interesting spin on zoro's absence in wci. imagine fumbling sanji when he was actually romantically interested in you at one point in the story, i would cry

insatiable by codhya (g)

But then Luffy says, join my pirate crew. One look at that blinding smile and those wide, unfathomable eyes made Sanji hear the words for what they were. Be greedy with me. And Sanji, he finds that he is starving.

sanji introspection piece on being selfish and wanting

crack baby by sanjilockhart (t)

Luffy and Sanji's developing relationship and how Sanji felt when Luffy, quite literally, crashed into his life.

pre-timeskip baratie arc fic centered around sanji's perspective of the luffy recruitment process, aka sanji introspection piece on the horrors of being perceived and wanted

anchor by trixree (t)

It is said that dreams are shared between soulmates. Luckily, the Vinsmoke children do not dream. (Except, of course, for the failure.)

soulmate au where soulmates share dreams with moments that truly hit one in the feels with this one

easy as anything, simple as that by trixree (t)

“Luffy? What’s the matter?” “We’re gonna’ have a wedding,” he says incomprehensibly. Which—no. Absolutely not. Haven’t they had enough of weddings, lately? Nami's certainly had enough for a lifetime, thanks. “What are you talking about? What wedding?” she demands as coherently as she can while running on only two-and-a-half hours of sleep. “Mine and Sanji’s,” Luffy declares.

post-wci where hours after getting themselves to safety, luffy and sanji decide to have an impromptu wedding

a fine looking high horse by grayimperia (t)

The epic duel between first mate and captain’s boyfriend, involving pettiness, throw pillows, and a general inability to walk in another’s shoes.

zoro perspective fic where it turns out the new cook is also luffy's boyfriend. as it also turns out, zoro discovers he's not good at sharing

we both unsettled (shadow preachers) by senjuside (m)

Relationships are not easy. Luffy and Sanji are still learning how to sail thought their prides and fears, even after all those years.

post-canon married lusan fic where sanji deals with the drawbacks of a husband who still remains at sea even after retirement

love is a full stomach by b3rry_jam (nr)

Luffy doesn’t understand romance, but he knows he feels happiest when he’s with Sanji.

sweet and pure lusan fluff, 11/10

and if you still want me... by fizzyren (g)

Sanji gets a lil angsty in his head about Luffy after Whole Cake.

luffy being possessive and clingy post-wci my beloved

and i know where to look by mr_crowsnest

“Luffy, I’m cooking—” “It’ll wait!” Luffy interrupted, already pulling Sanji into the middle of the kitchen. “This is important!” Sanji stumbled, his protest dying on his lips as Luffy’s hands found his, their fingers intertwining with surprising care. Luffy’s grin was infectious, his laughter bright and unrestrained, and Sanji couldn’t bring himself to push him away.

fluff fic where luffy and sanji dance in the kitchen

#recs ー 📖#one piece #fic recommendations #asl brothers #zosopp #frobin #lawzo #zolaw #luzo #zosan #lusan #straw hats #whole cake island #marineford #dressrosa #baratie

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poppy5991 · 1 month ago

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As an American, my immediate reaction would not be “oh a superhero!”

I would be like oh my god, a random biker intervened. They’re on his turf.

Chapter 330 | Me and Myself

#his custom jacket makes him look like he’s in a motorcycle gang lmao #also objectively hilarious that he lived in Los Angeles #how often did he have to stop crimes #did he have a beef with LAPD?#I need more info #it’s no wonder he became number one in Japan if he trained on the streets of LA lmaoooo #he came back and was like wow so little crime compared to my college era #and not nearly as many guns #how much culture shock did he experience moving to LA #I know Japan was in its villain chaos era but you really think LA would be better????#I don’t think so #this is why Endeavor could never catch up #All Might was out there wearing blood AND crip colors #American hands are rated E for everyone #American gang member watching the AFO fight from prison:#bro omg that’s the dude I fist fought #on Venice Blvd

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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chapter six: e pluribus unum

“There’s my pretty girl!” Steve giggles, head lolling to the side as he admires you. “Isn’t she the prettiest, Robin?” Robin giggles as well, her face just as bruised and bloodied as his. “So pretty!” “Oh God,” despite their injured state, the two teens are in an unusually good mood. They giggle like school girls, Robin even bats her eyelashes at you. Something is off with them. “How hard did they hit your heads?”

Summary: things get hot and heavy in the face of death, mean russians kidnap your hot almost-boyfriend, you have a philosophical discussion about nerdiness with the kids, acid becomes your new favorite weapon, and steve and robin try drugs together. yippee !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence, cursing, blood and mentions of death, use of weapons

Words: 6.7k

Before you swing in: oh BOY do i have a lot to say about this chapter ,,, but for now i will hold off. pls, enjoy her. youve all waited so very patiently for this moment, and im SO excited to see what yall have to say <333

“The gate,” you, Steve, and Dustin breathe out at the same time. You stare at the machine before you; the gravity of the situation settles upon all of you as the machine continues to send pulses of light into the entrance of the Upside Down.

The lights flash, the blue flickers across your face as countless men in lab coats marvel at their creation, and your hands tighten into fists. What they have created will only undo the endless hours you have spent trying to protect everyone, it diminishes every sacrifice that has been made, it taunts the blood that has been spilled.

You hate them, you hate what they have brought back into your life.

“We have to get out of here.” No one argues with you, and quickly you guide everyone downstairs.

“What’s going on?” Robin asks as you gently push her down the stairs, quickening her pace. The urgence of your actions, however, only alert her that something is wrong. “Why do you guys look so scared?”

Days of hiding the truth from her have finally caught up to you, you can feel it, and yet there isn’t anything you can really tell her. Not yet, at least; there isn’t enough time. Hurrying down the stairs, you shake your head at Robin. “It’s a lot to explain.”

“I don’t understand, you’ve seen this before?”

She’s always been too perceptive.

You hate her genius mind.

“Not exactly.” Steve takes over now, trying to help.

Robin’s voice raises, she’s becoming inpatient. “Then what, exactly?”

Two of them argue and Dustin joins in, though you ignore them and reach the last step to start looking for any possible weapons in the room. If you guys have even the slightest chance of making it out of here alive, then you’ll need more than your switchblade and Steve’s surprising new combat skills.

As your eyes scan the room, you realize, too late, that the Russian guard Steve had knocked out only minutes ago is now gone. Horrified, you frantically whip your head to find him, but the man is gone.

Wonderful.

Erica notices this too. “Um, Steve? Where’s your Russian friend?”

With impeccable comedic timing, lights begin to flicker above you as an alarm sounds. Seems the Russian guard snitched, then.

“Oh, shit!” Your switchblade finds its way into your hand. This just keeps getting worse and worse.

Steve curses as well and sprints to the door to open it, trying to find another way out, but instead he finds a swarm of guards all staring back at him. Cursing again, he slams the door shut. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know by the look on his face that you’re in deep shit. “Go, go, go!”

Blindly you shove Dustin and Erica into the nearest door, tugging at Robin, and Steve takes the rear as the group starts to run. Your senses are in overdrive, your head swims with anxiety and your eyes flicker to any possible way out. Your legs ache with exertion, but you have no fucking idea where you are.

You make a sharp right and open a random door, but almost immediately you stumble to a halt when you see that it’s the room to the goddamn machine opening the Upside Down. Of course this is the room you chose. The scientists all stare at you, and you really wish you had stayed in bed yesterday. “Fuck!”

“Go, Y/N!” Dustin yanks on your arm and goes left, finding stairs to run down.

You risk a quick look over your shoulder and your heart drops when you see that the Russian guards are close behind. “We got company!” You’re on the landing platform now, too close to the machine and the gate for your own comfort. Dustin screeches as he shoves a Russian against the railing. You wince, feeling bad despite the horrible circumstances. “Sorry!”

“Why are you apologizing to the Russians–holy shit–” Gripping the back of your brother’s shirt, you save him from face planting into the giant laser beam. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!”

Steve and the others have joined now, and you realize how helplessly cornered the five of you are. You’re standing on the edge of the platform and the laser’s heat can be felt even six feet away while twenty armed Russian soldiers approach from behind.

Defeated, helpless, terrified, you turn to the person whose hand rests gently on the small of your back; the only person who gives you solace. “Steve.”

It’s all you can say, your knees feel weak and your body turns to his, helpless. You don’t know what else to do. Steve’s eyes find yours, he can feel Dustin looking to him for help as well. Robin, Erica. Everyone is looking to him, and yet he’s just as terrified.

“This way!” He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows that he has to protect you. Running back down the stairs, he shoves a guard that blocks the path and you’re right behind him, pushing barrels at more guards that round the corner so that no one else can follow.

“Go!” You wave the others ahead, now taking the rear with Steve. The two of you do whatever you can to slow the Russians down as Robin leads the kids towards another door. You’re all blindly running through the endless walls of the facility.

The door flies open and everyone rushes into the room.

Everything happens quickly after that.

Steve slams the door while you hold the kids behind you, away from the door and fearful of the bullets that may rain through it. Steve braces his back against the door. The Russians pound the frame from the other side.

Madly looking around for any sign of an exit, your body fills with unbearable dread when you realize that you’ve locked yourselves in a room without any way out.

Dustin’s scared hand grips at your arm. He seems to realize what you already have. “Shit!”

“Robin!” Steve calls out to her, desperate. He’s rapidly losing his footing to hold his position as the guards’ fists rage a relentless war. “Help me, come on!”

She runs to him and throws her back against the door as well, and the distress in Steve’s voice only hastens you as you run around the room. There has to be a way out. You refuse to die like this, far below Hawkins and the sunlight you’ve come to love within the small town.

Breath quickening, you rush up the steps within the room and drag Dustin along with you. Robin’s face is red now, Steve’s feet keep slipping, and from the force of which the door they hold thuds, you know the guards have started to throw their own bodies against it.

Something creeks below your foot. You look down and inexplicably hope jumps into your chest. There’s a vent grate, this entire underground facility is full of air ducts, it’s how you got into this entire fucking mess in the first place. “Here! I found something!”

Erica joins you and Dustin and quickly the three of you pry the vent open. You help Erica lower herself inside, instructing her to start crawling, now, when Dustin shouts down to Robin and Steve. “Come on!”

“Go! Just get out of here!” Steve screams back, groaning as the pounding on the door becomes more and more violent.

Your hand, which had been on your brother’s back, ready to help him inside the air duct next, stills. Your entire body freezes as you look over at Steve, ice cold fear crawls up your neck; doubt creeps in as you realize, far too late, that there isn’t enough time for them to escape into the vent.

There never seems to be enough time.

But you have to try anyway. All you ever do is try, you will die trying, you just can’t let it be in vain. “Steve, Robin, let’s go!”

Steve clenches his teeth as another body throws itself against the door. Through his exertion he can see how pale you are now, the realization that dawns on you that you will have to leave him behind, and Steve wishes he could kiss the despair off of your pretty face. “No! Just go and get some help, okay?”

“I–I can’t–” Dustin tugs at your shirt to come with him, but your body is unmoving. You can’t, you won’t leave them behind, Steve’s biceps strain against the doorframe and Robin groans in pain, and yet your brother’s fearful grip on you reminds you of your responsibility to him as well. To protect him, to get Erica home, be with them.

But Steve is in danger. He needs you.

You don’t know what to do.

“Y/N!” Dustin calls after you as you tear yourself away from him.

Blindly, as your vision darkens and the terror in your body threatens to consume you, you stumble down the steps towards Steve. You need to be close to him, it’s all your mind and body can register as the roaring in your head nearly deafens you.

As soon as you’re in front of him, grasping at his shoulders to try and take him with you, Steve pushes you away. “Y/N, you need to leave–”

“I’m not leaving you!” The shrillness scares even yourself, the sheer desperation to stay with Steve comes deep from within your chest as you scream at him. You’re panicking now, angry at him for even considering the idea that you’d ever leave him. As if you haven’t just gotten him back.

You’re never letting go of him now that you have him.

Not again.

Robin tries to reason with you herself, distantly you think she pleads with you, but your vision tunnels and all you can see is Steve. Your body hums with the need for his.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Another thud against the door, Robin’s foot slips, and Steve has to throw his head back and brace for yet another impact. He’s angry at you, too. For not listening to him. For how you’ve always blindly sacrificed yourself, harmed yourself to protect others.

Steve won’t let you hurt yourself anymore, not when he can save you.

Not again.

“The kids need you–”

“I need you!” Tears wet your face now, you’re clutching at Steve’s shirt as Dustin continues to scream at you to run, to not abandon him, and it feels as if you can’t breathe as words begin to tumble from your mouth with hysteria. “We–we can run, right now! You’re fast, and–and Robin can jump and–”

Steve’s lips crash against yours.

He’s weak and scared and helpless; this is the only way he knows how to get you to listen.

You breathe in sharply as his lips move against yours, you melt into him. He pours everything into the kiss, your teeth knock against his and your hands find his hair, tugging at it as Steve tries to convey everything that time won’t allow him to.

The kiss is rushed, it’s messy and it’s aching, and through it Steve begs you. To love him despite the fact that he has to leave you, that he’s doing this for you, he begs you to remember him, and selfishly he kisses you because he doesn’t want to die knowing he’s wasted half the damn summer without ever knowing how your lips felt against his.

It isn’t death that terrifies Steve, it’s the idea that he almost died without knowing how you tasted.

When Steve finally pulls away, you’re too shocked to move. His lips are tinged pink and his brown eyes are dark in the lighting and you’re both breathless. Your hands remain in his hair, all you can register is how the strands feel between your fingers and that Dustin is now at your side, yanking at your arm to follow him back towards the vent.

Numbly you allow Steve’s hands to help Dustin move your limp body, your feet rise to reach the steps. The warmth of Steve’s body is gone now. Faintly you feel your brother’s firm, but gentle, hands as he shoves you inside the vent.

There’s a tugging within your chest suddenly, an overwhelming sensation to turn around, and abruptly you come back to yourself. The roaring in your head quiets for only a moment, the lights are bright and Dustin’s fingers dig into your skin, yet still your eyes find Steve.

He’s far below you now, the Russians have almost broken through the door, and his kiss still sears your lips. Urgently, viciously, you scream the only thing you can think of that encompasses all the love and terror within you, “Come home to me!”

Steve opens his mouth to promise you that he will, he always will. You can hear the promise even before he’s said it, but the doors burst open and Dustin slams the vent’s grate down.

You ran out of time.

The echo of the grate’s slam rings in your ears.

–

Erica is the one that guides you through the air ducts.

You haven’t said anything since leaving Steve and Robin behind; it’s been hours now, and yet still you do not speak.

Dustin crawls behind you, worried. He watches your body shake slightly as you crawl through the narrow space. His stomach lurches when he notices how white your knuckles have become from how tightly you clench your fists.

You’re clinging onto what little resolve you have left, it’s evident to Dustin, and he worries about when, not if, you’ll finally snap. He knows that now isn’t the right time to initiate a code blue, but he’s concerned seeing you so broken. He hates that he can’t do anything, that he dragged you away from the others.

The air inside the ducts is warm, almost nauseatingly so, and the ringing in your ears has yet to fade. Steve’s kiss still burns your lips. His promise to you, that he would return and come back home to you, the promise that he couldn’t make, drowns out all of your other thoughts.

Come home to me.

He hadn’t had time to answer you.

The thought nauseates you more than the sickening heat that surrounds you. You left him. Robin, too.

You left them both behind, just like you left Will behind the night the Demogorgon got him. And the kids, that night when you abandoned them at the middle school and left them vulnerable to that fucking monster. And Jonathan, when he thought his brother had died and you were too lost in your self pity when he needed you the most.

Now, after promising Steve you’d stay, sworn in the passenger seat of his car as the snow fell around you both, you’ve left him once more.

Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.

The promises you’ve made burn so deeply that a wince escapes your lips, and Dustin quietly asks if you’re okay.

“‘M fine,” you manage to rasp out, crawling forward despite the tormented tugging that begs you to turn around.

You hear Dustin’s lips part, he doesn’t believe you and wants to argue, but you keep your head turned away from him and he instead settles on sighing. You’re not ready to talk about it, not yet. Not now, not when you feel as if you’ve lost a piece of yourself.

Erica turns a corner and starts to slow down. “Fans up ahead.”

“Great,” Dustin groans when he sees the giant blades spinning, blocking the way forward. “Think we could time it right and jump through them?”

“If you wanna lose a head, sure.” Erica snorts, unpleased with the risky idea. “Don’t you have tools in those lame ass cargo shorts you’re wearing?”

“My cargo shorts aren’t lame…”

You sit quietly as Dustin and Erica try and figure out what to do. You’re still in shock, you can’t gather the energy to try and help them. It’s like a switch has been flipped inside of you, deactivating your ability to do anything other than be plagued with the crippling sensation of loss.

Eventually Erica convinces Dustin to try and break into the control panel next to the fans and shut them down manually. He pulls a screwdriver from one of his pockets (to Erica’s utter amusement), and starts unscrewing the bolts. Through it all, you remain quiet, and when Dustin looks over at you, he finds you staring blankly at the walls with an almost lifeless gaze.

He sighs. Needing to distract himself, Dustin figures now is as good a time as any to explain everything to Erica. The Russians, why they’re here, why you’ve almost lost your mind trying to protect everyone. “It all started the night Will disappeared, two years ago.”

Dustin explains the Upside Down, the Demogorgon and how it was able to travel to their world through a gate El had accidentally opened with her powers, and now how the Russians have somehow found this gate and are attempting to reopen it.

Erica, to her credit, listens. She doesn’t question a thing, and Dustin is surprised by her lack of sarcastic input, but when he finishes explaining everything, the girl only has doubts about one thing: Lucas being involved.

“Wait, so you believe everything about El and the gate, and the Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, but you question your brother’s involvement?” Dustin asks the girl, in disbelief of how her mind works.

“That’s correct.”

Then, surprising them both, you finally speak. “Lucas is brave, Erica. He’s done a lot for the party.”

Erica’s stony expression softens slightly, her usual argumentative demeanor backs down. “Yeah, well. Whatever. You’re damn lucky it’s your birthday and I feel bad for you.”

It’s not much, but you know that she’s spared you her malice. For once you accept the sympathy, even if your luck has run out hours ago when Steve kissed you and then tore you apart. “Lucky,” you snort. “Yeah.”

Dustin and Erica look at one another wearily, though you pretend you don’t see it. After a few heartbeats, your brother clears his throat and goes back to unscrewing the control panel.

“Um, you need help with that?” Erica asks the boy, doubtful of his capabilities. When Dustin tells her no, she doubles down. “I mean, it’s taking a while, so–”

Dustin huffs at her. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”

“Don’t cuss at her.” You butt in, but Erica has already started back with her arguing.

She claims that at the slow pace you’re going, Steve and Robin stand no chance, and her words make the nausea claw up your throat. Dustin notices the way you clutch at your stomach and he quickly tries to reason with Erica, maybe say that she’s wrong, but the girl only continues to talk.

“I mean, we’ve made it about point-three miles in nine hours.” Erica looks down at her watch as she speaks, but her eyes almost swim with the numbers you assume she envisions in her mind. “Then we had to walk three hours down that tunnel, so I’d estimate ten miles back to the elevator, which should take us approximately twelve and a half days.”

You and Dustin look at each other, baffled. No way Erica managed to come up with those numbers all on her own. Sure, you’ve always secretly suspected that she was more intelligent than she let on, but Jesus. You can hardly remember the multiples of seven on a good day.

“Did you just do all of that in your head?” Dustin asks her, eyes wide with astonishment.

Erica shrugs. “I’m good with numbers.”

“That’s an understatement,” you mumble under your breath, though you’re starting to feel more like yourself again. Dustin calls Erica a nerd, which she adamantly denies, and the light hearted conversation almost seems to draw you out of your state of shock, albeit slowly.

Your brother lists off all the proof he has of Erica’s “nerdiness” and you listen, chuckling. The genuine offense on the girl’s face is hard not to laugh at, and when Dustin sees that it seems to be cheering you up, he doubles down on his efforts.

“Fact number three: you love My Little Pony.” He holds up Erica’s backpack that has two ponies printed across it, which you snort at.

Erica crosses her arms defensively. “And what does My Little Pony have to do with this?”

“Let’s recall the ponies’ latest adventure, shall we?” Dustin clears his throat and begins retelling the tales of the ponies, and you cannot believe that your fourteen year old brother still watches the show and pays enough attention to understand its themes and narrative. “Ergo, My Little Pony is nerdy. Ergo, you, Erica, are a nerd.”

“Not to take sides,” you poke your head between the two kids. “But why do you know so much about the show, Dustin?”

“Because I’m a nerd.” He manages to get the control panel open and rips the wires out of it. Electric sparks fly as they disconnect and the fans behind you slowly come to a stop. “Now, let’s go, nerds.”

Erica glares at him before turning to you. “Do you watch My Little Pony, Y/N?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not that pathetic. I read comics instead, like the mature seventeen year old I am.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you, entirely over you and your brother, and starts crawling through the air ducts once more. As she leaves, Dustin stays behind. “Hey,”

His hand wraps around your arm and stops you from following Erica. You pause, confused as to what he may want. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” In the lighting, for just a moment, Dustin looks up at you and he’s the nine year old little boy who once feared you would get lost in your mother’s grief and father’s anger.

The last icy tendrils of shock melt, you come back to yourself when you hear your little brother’s fear for his sister. Taking Dustin’s hand into yours, you squeeze it. “Of course I’m okay. I have you.”

Dustin laughs softly, relief evident within his exhale, and you yank his hat off of his head to break the remaining tension away. He lunges for it, betrayed, though he laughs again anyways, and for a few seconds it’s just the two of you giggling to yourselves as you fight over the hat.

“Are you two shitbirds coming, or do I gotta kill those Commies on my own?” Erica shouts, now on the other side of the air duct.

With one last tug, Dustin tears the hat from your grasp and sticks his tongue out at you. “Last one to Erica owes the other $5!” He starts speed crawling towards the girl, giving you absolutely no chance of winning, and you hang your head in defeat and sigh.

The fucker owes you so much money already.

–

It takes hours.

Back aching and knees bruised, you crawl behind the kids in the seemingly endless maze that resides in the facility’s air ducts. It’s similar to the tunnels you walked through what feels like years ago originally, with Steve holding your hand through it all, though you know it couldn’t have been less than a day ago now.

The entire time, your mind doesn’t once quiet its concern for Steve and Robin. Just when the pounding in your head becomes splitting, Dustin stops you and Erica.

“Y/N, help me remove the vent.”

“Why, what’s up there?” You’re next to him, squinting through the grate’s small holes. All you see are what appear to be a line of vaults, though it’s hard to tell. “I don’t see anyone.”

Dustin starts prying at the vent. “Exactly, there’s no one up there and look, can’t you see it?”

You squint again, getting even closer to the holes to peer inside. Something glows bright green on one of the vault’s shelfs. “Is that…?”

“Uh huh. Now help me, will you?”

It takes a minute or so before you’re able to pry the vent open. Together, the two of you slowly lift your heads through the opening and look around. The room you’ve ended up in is empty. Along its walls are rows of vaults with multiple vials of the green chemicals you found in the elevator.

You’re not entirely sure what your brother has in mind, but you know it can’t be anything good.

“Jackpot!” Dustin breathes out with newfound exhilaration. He climbs out of the air duct first and eagerly starts looking around while you help Erica out.

The two kids look around in amazement, but you survey the area out of habit. It’s too quiet within the room. Being so close to the chemicals again leaves you on edge. “Stay close to me, we don’t know who could be nearby–”

“Oh!” Dustin abandons your caution in a heartbeat. He starts running down the steps, and when you see what’s gotten him so excited, you follow after him. There’s a cart right at the bottom of the stairs, parked to the side without anyone in it.

It could be your ticket out of here, if you’re lucky.

“Do you even know how to drive?” Erica teases Dustin, but you step past her and join him to inspect the vehicle.

He waves an indifferent hand at her. “How hard can it be? Max did it.”

“That was the worst car ride of my life” You shiver at the memory. The taste of blood fills your mouth and you can almost feel the bruises again. Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus. “Think you could hotwire this?”

Dustin furrows his brows and ducks his head under the wheel. He shuffles around, mumbling to himself, before he curses. “No, it’s one of those fancy, expensive carts. Which is goddamn ironic for people who hate wealth. We need a key.”

“Okay, that’s not how Communism necessarily works–”

“Did you two seriously think they’d leave keys in there?” Erica interrupts you, cutting straight to the point as she always does.

Dustin starts digging around the cart now. He checks the mirror compartment, under the seat, wherever his hands can reach. “There’s gotta be a spare…” When he comes up with nothing, he shoves you out of the cart. “Go and look inside the vault room.”

“A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt.” Though you do as you’re told, trusting that the room is secure enough to leave him and Erica alone for a few minutes as you look.

There are vials everywhere, but no signs of a spare key. You wander the rows, the green liquid glows ominously. Drawing your face closer to one of the vials, the liquid bubbles in its glass container. This small, inconspicuous vial is what melted cement back at the elevator.

An idea comes to you.

“Dustin,” you call over your shoulder, eyes still on the chemical. “What if we grabbed some of these vials and used them as some kind of weapon? I mean, it’s some pretty powerful stuff.” No one responds, which you frown at. It’s then that you realize it’s become suspiciously quiet, and with your heartbeat in your throat, you run back towards the kids.

You find Dustin with spare keys in his hand, a proud smile on his face. “Found ‘em.”

“I’m going to start making you pay me every time you give me a goddamn heart attack.” A hand rests against your chest as you try to lower your heart rate. “I mean, this just can’t be good for me–”

A loud, spine tingling crack of electricity zaps behind you.

Screaming, you jump at the noise and into Dustin’s side. You both turn around, coming face to face with a giant electric prod held by a smiling Erica.

“What the hell is that?” Dustin shouts at her, fear still in his voice.

“A deadly weapon.” She zaps it again and the sound is deafening. “Could be useful.”

Both hands on your chest now, you hunch over and try to not to have a heart attack right then and there. “You kids are going to kill me one day.” You swallow, take a deep breath. “God, why can’t we stick with knives? They’re quiet, quaint. Not at all terrifying.”

“Knives against Commies? I thought you wanted to save your boyfriend, Y/N.” Erica swings the prod as she speaks and you hold your hands up.

“Let’s not swing that around, okay? The last thing I need today is to be electrocuted by that thing.” When she lowers the prod, you continue. “But… you should keep it. It’ll be useful for saving Steve and Robin.”

Dustin steps in front of you. “Wait a minute, aren’t you always lecturing me about being realistic? We don’t even know where they are.”

“And aren’t you always lecturing me about putting the party first?” You can’t believe that Dustin isn’t tearing the place apart to find Steve. “We can’t just leave them here. No way you think I’d let you do that.”

“But there are a million guards up there with weapons way deadlier than that!” He points at Erica’s electric prod. He starts walking towards the cart, keys in hand, and beckons you to get inside it as well. “Admit it, the best thing we can do for them is get out of here and find help. Our chance of surviving, and theirs, rises substantially.”

“No.” You don’t step foot in the cart.

“Just trust me on this.” Dustin tries to get you into the cart, but you plant your feet on the ground and refuse to move. “Y/N, please don’t be difficult right now.”

“I said no.” Your voice hardens. Dustin has never been one to back away from a challenge, and yet here he is. Accepting defeat and leaving Steve and Robin to suffer the consequences of it. You’ve always been the first to stand behind realism, to denounce insane ideas and stunts that the party always manages to get itself into, but this time it’s different.

Somewhere within these walls, your friends are facing unimaginable terrors. They sacrificed themselves to save you and the kids. Once again, Steve Harrington has saved your life.

And you’ve always evened out your debts to him.

“We’re going to look for them.” You walk back into the vault room and start grabbing vial after vial of chemicals. There’s an air of authority in your demeanor, daring the kids to argue with you. You’re taking control now after being numb for so long. Dustin follows you, tries to argue, but you continue grabbing vials from the shelves as a plan forms in your head. “We are going to grab as many of these as we can, load them up into the cart, and then drive around this shithole until we find our friends.”

You shove the vials into Dustin’s arms. He blinks at you, this is the most clear headed he’s seen you since descending down in the elevator. Marching back towards the cart, you place your own vials down. “Then, we are going to use whatever chemical this is to cause a distraction. We’ll melt something, maybe cause a fire. I don’t give a shit what we do. All I know is that we are going to then save our friends and get the fuck out of this hellscape. Do I make myself clear?”

Dustin and Erica stare at you, jaws slacked, both now sitting in the cart. Taking their silence as a yes, you nod, pleased. “Fantastic. Now, my dear brother, start driving or I will. Either way: we’re leaving.”

He gulps and tightens his hands on the steering wheel. When you’ve settled into the back of the vehicle, he starts the cart. “Let’s go, then.”

As Dustin drives, Erica twists in her seat to look at you. She’s impressed, albeit still slightly terrified. “Have you always been so scary?”

“Yes. I just hide it well. Makes it more useful when I need it.”

–

You’ve just finished counting the vials when Erica seems to decide now is an appropriate time to ask invasive questions.

“So what do you see in that hair guy?”

“You mean Steve?” Although, you suppose that hair guy is a pretty good indicator for him.

Erica nods. “Yeah, I just don’t understand how someone like him could impress you. He wears a sailor’s uniform and flings ice cream all day long.”

You’re oddly touched by this, though her description of Steve makes you sad. He’s so much more than just some guy who scoops ice cream. He’s brave, selfless, sensitive, and kind. “Don’t give me too much credit. There’s a lot you don’t know about Steve.”

She makes a disgusted face. “Yuck. It sounds like you love the guy.”

Dustin cringes and looks disgusted as well. He doesn’t want to hear his sister waxing and waning about his friend. “Can we not talk about that right now?”

Erica pinches his side, causing him to nearly crash the cart into the wall. “I’m an inquisitive person and clearly they’re in love. Y/N almost bit your head off when you suggested abandoning him.”

“Okay, I didn’t suggest abandoning him.”

“It’s just the facts!”

They argue, forgetting that you’re there. However, you need the distraction, and talking about Steve has always made you feel braver than you really are. A smile spreads across your face when you think about him. The words spill from your mouth without any effort. “I do love Steve.”

Dustin’s arguing fades away. His eyes meet yours in the cart’s rearview mirror. He already knew that you loved Steve, but to hear you say it, to see the blush that invades your face whenever you talk about him, it makes everything more real. Guilt washes over him. He wanted you to leave the boy you love behind.

“Look,” Dustin sighs. He needs to get this off of his chest. “I’m sorry about telling you to leave Steve and–”

A scream echoes within the hall. It’s feminine, familiar.

“Robin,” your stomach twists. She’s alive. And close. She has to be close if you can hear her screams. You grab Dustin’s shoulder. “Go!”

He slams on the gas and the cart picks up speed. Rounding the corner, he brakes harshly and you’re in yet another hallways. It’s silent, there isn’t anyone there. You close your eyes, you’re close. You can feel it, but you can’t locate them if you don’t know where they are.

“C’mon, Robin, “ you plead. “Help us find you.”

Another scream, this time it sounds even closer.

“That way!” Erica points left, and there’s no time to doubt if she’s right. The three of you jump out the cart and grab the chemicals. Dustin also grabs the electric prod, and then you all start running.

Robin screams again, and this time you can place which door it comes from. Adrenaline rushes through you. You have to work fast. At the end of the hall you see what looks to be an alarm switch on the wall. It wasn’t a part of your plan earlier, but it’ll have to do.

“Erica, go to the switch down there. When I say go, you press it. Alright?” She nods at you, quickening her pace. You turn to Dustin next, grabbing the vials from him. “Get the prod ready. I’ll throw the vials.”

When you get to the door that separates you from Robin, you press your ear against it. Voices are muffled, but still Steve's voice comes through as well. Your heart jumps. He’s with her. He’s alive as well.

Erica stands at the end of the hall and you hold your palm up, signaling her to wait. Looking at Dustin, he nods at you and holds the prod to his chest. Taking a deep breath, you start throwing the vials harshly against the floor.

You use all the anger within you to guide what little strength you have left. The anger drives you, it propels the vials, it shatters them. The chemicals spill everywhere. The cement floor begins to erode away, sizzling. After you’ve thrown your last one, you shout to Erica, “Now!”

Alarms sound overhead. Erica runs back towards you and you shove the kids behind a barrel. Within seconds the hallway fills with Russian guards and they swarm around the melted floor, but you keep your eyes on the door. Silently you beg for your plan to work. The door has to open, whoever is inside has to come and investigate the damage you’ve caused.

An agonizing three seconds pass. Sweat drips down your face. Then, a man comes crashing out of the door. He marches down the hallway and disappears when he turns the corner. As soon as he’s gone, Dustin slams through the door. There’s a man dressed in doctor’s scrubs within the room, but your brother attacks him with the prod and knocks him out quickly.

Erica and Dustin stand over the unconscious man. They’re surprised the plan has worked. Yet all you see is Steve.

Everything else fades away. He’s tied to a chair, his face is bleeding. You run towards him, uncaring about whatever else may be in the room. A whole fucking army of Russians could be standing next to you right now and you still wouldn’t spare them a single glance.

“Oh, honey.” The sentiment drips from your lips as your knife cuts through the rope that binds him. You’re so fucking relieved that he’s okay, that Robin is as well. But there’s so much blood. In your periphery you see a tray with a bone saw on it.

“There’s my pretty girl!” Steve giggles, head lolling to the side as he admires you. “Isn’t she the prettiest, Robin?”

Robin giggles as well, her face just as bruised and bloodied as his. “So pretty!”

“Oh God,” despite their injured state, the two teens are in an unusually good mood. They giggle like school girls, Robin even bats her eyelashes at you. Something is off with them. “How hard did they hit your heads?”

Dustin starts to help you untie Steve. “Get ready to run.” He instructs them with a firm voice. However, Robin and Steve continue to laugh. As if this is all one big joke to them.

They almost seem… drunk.

But there isn’t time to ask any questions. Any minute now the guards will return. You cut the last rope that’s tied around Robin and ask Erica if she can carry her. They’re too loopy to walk straight, you’ll need to help Dustin carry Steve back to the cart.

It takes a lot of yelling, slapping Steve’s hand away from your face as you struggle to drag his limp body to the cart, more bribes for Robin than you ever would’ve imagined, but miraculously you get the two idiots into the cart parked outside.

As soon as they’re secured in the back with you, Dustin steps on the gas and you leave the Russians behind.

“Tried promising you I’d come home, angel.” Steve is sprawled on your lap. His eyes are cloudy, he isn’t quite here with you.

“You didn’t have to say anything. I knew you’d promise me.” You reassure him. Carefully, you brush hair out of his face and you inspect his wounds. The cuts don’t look too deep, but you’re worried he might have yet another concussion. Thankfully, however, the blood has already started to scab over. The worst of it is over, and yet your heart still constricts when you remember that he’s injured because of you. “My poor, sweet honey.”

Steve closes his eyes and hums with content. “I love it when you call me honey.” He rolls onto his side now and nuzzles his bloodied face into your stomach. “Makes me feel special.”

Your fingers find his hair, careful to avoid any bumps and heart swelling at what he’s said. Clearing your throat, you look to Robin who is on your other side. You start checking her over as well. She isn’t as battered as Steve is, though a bruise is forming on her cheek.

When she sees you looking at her, she winks. “I lived!”

“You did,” you squeeze her hand and her head falls against your shoulder. She lets out her own content sigh, and you play with her hair as well. They’re still with you. Still whole and alive.

With Steve and Robin safely wrapped around you, you can finally rest.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #yall are gonna scream at me #im so excited to see it LMAO

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xxsycamore · 6 months ago

Text

╰┈➤ It’s Halloween night at the Crown caste, and you’re looking for some fun.

- William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Jude, Ellis, Roger, Victor, Ring, Nica, Darius x f!reader

[ ◄ PART 1 ] - ◉ PART 2 - [ PART 3 ►]

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Monsterfucking; Human/Monster; Mythical Beings & Creatures; Manipulation; Mildly Dubious Consent; Curse play; Non-Human Genitalia; Anonymous Sex; Masquerades; Creampie; Vaginal Sex; Size Difference; Size Kink; Power Dynamics; Power Imbalance; Power Play; Corruption; Multiple Orgasms; Dom/sub; Fondling; Manhandling; Near Death Experiences; Adrenaline; Flying Sex; Predator/Prey; Tail Sex; Tail Play; Possessive Behavior; Cervix Penetration; Oviposition; Eggpreg; Breeding; Unplanned Pregnancy • wordcount: 3,264 • masterlist

a/n: I got this idea for a story that is similar to Nine Nights, but without any plot or continuity between the different parts whatsoever. Unless, of course, you want to imagine that all of these take place one after another (poor Reader)... Monsterfucking is a new territory for me, so please bear with me. Once again, I tried leaving you with enough hints about who is who and I hope you can have fun guessing them lol

Dubcon warning: The reader seeks out physical intimacy on her own from the very beginning, however, some suitors use their curses' abilities on her without her being aware of it.

NEW: I made a playlist for this fic! It consists of 12 songs, one for each scenario. Enjoy <3

VISIONS OF TEMPTATION 2024/ KINKTOBER DAY 31: Non-human characters/traits

❝ MONSTER VILLAINS' NIGHT. ❞ (PART 2)

V. A fearful Demon King

"You're doing such a good job, little one. Keep rising and falling on me."

Dark shadows enfold the throne upon which the Demon King sits, with you seated on his large cock, steadily fucking yourself on it. His power is great and fearsome, making you dizzy when you try to look into the blurry memory of where you were just a handful of minutes ago or how it all led to this. You just know that if you were given the chance to go back, you'd still choose the same fate.

"Haaah… It's so big! I can't go any faster, my Lord… nghhh…."

From the moment you came to understand that the powerful being has chosen you to service him, you felt far more honored than scared. It all changed when he revealed his monstrous cock to you. With its shiny onyx-colored base and angry red head, mirroring the coloration of the twin horns on top of the Demon King's head, what intimidated you most was the girth of it. You were sure you wouldn't be able to fit something the width of your fist inside you, and you expressed those concerns to your Lord through a series of pathetic sobs, not failing to show him how much you wish you could, of course.

Then he did something unexplainable yet very simple at the same time. He used his clawed hand - the limb elegant despite its inhumanly size and black color - the pointy tip of his blood-red claw tipped your chin upwards so you could meet his demonic gaze. Looking into his crimson irises made all your hesitation go away in a flash, and suddenly you knew it was going to be alright.

Next thing you knew, you were piercing yourself on his length, letting it stretch you open and ruin you for everyone else. Not that it matters, you belong to your Lord now - the way he caves a room for himself inside you, you can only feel that he owns you now, body and mind.

The fluids seeping from his bulbous head acted like a lubricant that made your tight hole accommodate him bit by bit until he was all the way in, and you could only writhe in pleasure and haphazardly stroke your clit as the orgasms overcame you one after the other. The fear of doing something so indecent and selfish without his permission made you snap out of it, but your lord only kept the smirk on his face, encouraging you to keep going.

Even now that you've just let him know that the big intrusion inside you is preventing you from speeding up, he seems to be relaxing back in his throne, contently watching you struggle on your own. Your boldness grows with the need to push yourself over the edge in yet another orgasm, and while doing so, you reach for the black, curved horns on top of his head. You're clearly out of your mind to be doing that, so you search for his gaze that will decide your fate for you.

"I allow it."

A moan rips out of your throat, followed by a dozen blabby and brainless thank-you's. The new leverage works in your favor as you spasm and gush around the red-black appendage inside you, feeling it further stretching your walls on every rise and fall of your hips.

Without any awareness of the passage of time, it seems like you've been lost in this euphoric trance for an eternity before he finally grows bored of your pace. The demonic hand that he previously propped up his chin with is now snaking its way down your little human body, having a delectable taste of your soft parts with a squeeze there and there, before finally settling on your waist. His other hand joins too, and suddenly you have no power over your own movements - he grounds you to his lap easily, making you take his cock all the way in, before starting to move you up and down on his own will.

You feel light in his hold, your brain clearing out of any remaining thoughts that you previously had to keep into, when something still depended on you. The new wave of pleasure you're granted is stronger than anything you've felt, and you can only hear the obscene sounds of sticky fluids leaking from the place you're connected, your body locked in an eternal state of climax.

The last thing you feel is an overwhelming fullness deep in your womb that seems to go on forever, before you're finally settled down on the powerful being's torso, a clawed hand stroking the underside of your chin as your consciousness slips away.

VI. A deceitful Angel

The man dressed all in white has been standing out from the crowd all throughout the night, but he's even more remarkable now up close, you must admit. While he talks to you with his harmonically sweet voice, all you can focus on is the way his skin seems to glow under the scarce light of the eerily decorated hall. He's quite friendly, his golden eyes warm and inviting, as he suggests exploring the stairs to the roof of the castle.

You think nothing of it, sneaking off with him like a pair of juveniles as his laughter rings through the narrow spiral staircase. The night sky becomes a beautiful backdrop to his figure, and soon you're enamored enough of him to confess with a little chuckle that he looks like an angel. He gives you a mysterious smile, putting a slender finger in front of his lips, and in the next second a beautiful pair of wings spread wide on his back.

You're mesmerized by the sight, not believing your eyes - the angel-like stranger seems to be reading your mind at that moment because he evidently wants to show you just how real they are.

Namely, by pulling you by the hand where he stands at the edge of the rooftop, making you fall forward ontop of him, and right off the edge.

Your scream is sincere as you rapidly approach the ground, eyes squeezing shut as you say goodbye to your life, but the inevitable impact never comes. Instead, you're airborne, carried on the wings of the now laughing stranger who gave you the scare of your life. He never struck you as someone so cruel, but just as you're about to conclude he's no angel, you're given an even bigger reason to think that way. His wings suddenly strip their white color, feathers darkening as if covered by tar, until they become completely black.

"Are you enjoying the flight? I'd say the world looks far better from above. But we can make the sight even more enjoyable."

The sweet voice whispers those words close enough to your ear to send shivers, as you have no choice but to cling to him for dear life. His hands are free while yours are locked tightly around his neck, and he puts them to good use, moving them down your body and under the layers of fabric, baring you little by little.

"Ahh-Why-"

"Why not? You said that I'm an angel, didn't you? Maybe I just want to show you what heaven feels like, little bird."

If he's an angel, he's for sure a fallen one; someone like him has surely been punished for committing a despicable sin. Yet you can't help but moan at the way you're manhandled in the air, placed over his hot length, as it penetrates you in one long, slow thrust.

"Ahhhh! Nghh!"

You've never been in such a position, feeling so powerless but also feeling so good, your weight naturally falling on his cock with every flap of his wings. The celestial being cradles you close, giving you yet another illusion that he's being generous while in truth just using you for his own pleasure, a warm and tight sleeve to manipulate up and down in the air as he sees fit. Looking down makes you dizzy, as he practically holds your life in his hands, and you will yourself to concentrate on the growing pleasure that inevitably comes with the ordeal he puts you through, one that is greater than anything you've felt before. If you make it out alive, you'll remember it for the rest of your life.

"Aren't you enjoying this a lot, hmm? Don't you want to soar in the skies with me forever? How delightful will it be if you grew a pair of wings of your own, right here?"

He trails a deft finger across your back, dragging it upwards, right between your shoulder blades. It coincides with the fire inside you engulfing you to the point of no return, and you come undone on his cock, clinging to the body keeping you safe.

"It will hurt a little, but it will be all worth it. Don’t you want it? To help create a beautiful world by my side?"

As the angelic laughter rings in your ears, you feel a gush of liquid shoot inside you, and you begin to wonder why his offer seems so tempting at this very moment.

VII. A ferocious Minotaur

Going out in the garden for some fresh air shouldn't necessarily entail getting lost in the hedge maze, yet here you are.

As you turn yet another corner, fighting off the surprise of discovering a new dead end, you tell yourself that getting out of here can’t be that hard. Luckily the party is not ending any time soon, so maybe no one will notice your absence while you're on your own impromptu adventure. You won't speak of it afterward, that's for sure.

However, there's something entirely different that's been bothering you as you walk through the labyrinth-like walls of greenery, and that's the strong sense of being followed that you've been feeling for some time now. Not like eyes on your back, but rather, like a lingering sense of danger that you're about to run into any second now. You approach the next corner with caution, look behind, and relax enough to make fun of yourself in your head. But that only lowers your guard enough to make you scream with surprise when out of nowhere, a hand reaches for your shoulder.

"Hey, calm down. Are you alright? I've been trying to catch up with you for some time now. You appear to be running in circles. Are you lost?"

The man behind you is of large build, the pair of horns protruding from his brown hair only adding to his already admirable height, even if they're more sprawling at the sides of his head rather than from above - not unlike those of a ram. It's strange; for a moment there you had the feeling he'd been hunting you down towards this place in the center of the maze, but he doesn't seem to be ill-intended.

"W-Well- Not really, I just went out to get some fresh air, and-"

It must be pride that prevents you from accepting his help, or the fact that reaching the spacious center of the maze gives you the illusion of having made it halfway out of it without any help. Either way, the man lets out a short, wry laugh, almost mockingly so.

"I see. You are one of those who linger alone in here, looking for fun."

"T-That's not it! I honestly just meant to-"

The man steps in closer to you, his heavy boots coming to almost touch the tip of your own shoes now, and the difference in your builds is intimidatingly evident at that moment.

"How about this. You will try and make it out of here on your own. But if you fail, if I catch you - I will have my fun with you, there on the spot."

You can't believe yourself when the cold sweat beading at the base of your nape is not enough to stop you from giving it a thought. Maybe you were looking for some fun, maybe it was your frustration with failing to find fun that led you out of the hall to "take a breather" and get rid of the irritating arouse you've been feeling for some time - why hesitate just because you didn't expect to find your ticket to the entertainment here, in the garden?

The animalistic aura of the man and his respectable size gives you just enough push to make this fair, to actually give it your all before you fall into his hands.

***

Well, you can't say that you didn't put up a fight.

The brown-haired man seems to enjoy pinning you down and restricting you just as much as you enjoy protesting in his strong hold, testing the strength of his toned arms. It's humiliating, feeling the cold cobblestone ground under your hands and knees, but you don't want anything to break the immersion of being his prey.

Though, he gives you enough to feed the fantasy as it is. Until you doubt it's a fantasy anymore. Not when something large and tapered and inhuman prods at your hole.

"W-What-"

"You stay quiet and take it, 'lil lady. That's your punishment for getting caught."

You feel your brain beginning to melt with the intrusion of the tapered head of his girthy cock, and you brace yourself for being this monster's plaything, hearing him groan above you as he bottoms out.

You need to think about making it out of the maze at some point too, but right now you're not very capable of that.

VIII. A possessive Dragonkin

(CW: oviposition, breeding, unplanned pregnancy)

You noticed something being amiss the very second you entered the room. This is his territory, that much is certain - and you let him walk you in here willingly. As his grip around your waist tightens, tongue long since down your throat in a breath-stopping kiss, your half-lidded eyes catch hazy glimpses of the space. The moonlight seeping from the windows helps you make up the contours of piles upon piles of objects of various shapes and colors covering every surface. Most of them shiny, intricate, antique, scattered around without order yet clearly kept with purpose.

At the very center of it all, you're being undressed by restless hands that seemingly want to reveal way more of your skin than is necessary for a simple, short-lived tryst between strangers. You expect his touch to be cold, but every part of you becomes scorching hot under his fingertips. His skin is smooth as it glides against yours, the moon making it glow almost, as he aims to maximize the contact between your bodies.

You want to touch him back, but something long, strong and scaly wraps around your middle, lifting you up with ease and suspending you in the air. Is that his... tail? You kick your feet at the loss of gravity, afraid that he will drop you, but he simply watches you squirm and struggle with his slitted icy-blue eyes.

"Mine."

The sudden pressing of his cock against your drenched entrance distracts you from this strange surge of possessiveness. Your limbs tremble as he bottoms out, the blunt tip of his appendage brushing against your cervix and sending electricity through your writhing form, a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelms your senses.

With every thrust, it becomes easier, as your body not only becomes more pliable towards his size, but it also begins to crave more. It's like the precome smeared on his tip numbed your cervix, because you suddenly don't mind the feeling of him knocking on it on every thrust.

"Mine."

The whisper is followed by a grunt, and it makes you look at the stranger's face again. He's looking at you, yet it's like he's not seeing you; fixated on something underneath the surface, even his mantra of possessiveness is voiced out solely out of his own necessity to say it and not directed towards you. You reach out a hand and brush it against his pale, smooth cheek. Your fingertips graze blond hair locks and aim higher up, where a pair of pointy horns stand tall on the top of his head. They're translucent and blue in color, as if cut out from pure sapphire, and you're mesmerized by the sight, by all of him. Even if his tail wraps snuggly around you to keep you in place, his pace is rather rough, and one particularly sharp thrust has you grasping at those beautiful horns for support.

You're rewarded with a growl, and the sound of it makes your insides squeeze around the thick cock that continues to mercilessly pound your cunt. In a haze, you barely notice how the very tip of his tail snakes its way towards your clit and begins to stroke it.

"Ahhh!" You throw your head back as pleasure rocks your body, a powerful climax ripping through you. As your mind blanks out, you register your need growing tenfold despite having just orgasmed. In answer, he doesn't as much as slow down his thrusts, giving you exactly what you want.

Suddenly, you begin to feel a strange bulb at the base of his cock that presses more and more into your entrance, as if moving higher. The rational part of your brain, barely functioning, sends worrisome signals, but the part that wants this easily overpowers it. You don't need to understand it. You only need to think of the undiscovered pleasure that awaits you with that delicious stretch. Your walls pulsate helplessly around it, an itch that nothing else would be able to scratch, you're ruined for everything else at that very moment. The bulb slowly moves higher, making its way to your bruised cervix, until it finally presses against it, firmly.

There is a sense of resistance for a second, until finally, something pops inside. Tears of overstimulation gather in the corners of your eyes, and you feel something small and rounded nestling deep inside, in your uterus. It makes you orgasm on the spot, body thrashing around in the strong hold you're being kept in, as your vision turns to white for a mere second.

A gush of liquid follows, and you open your eyes to see the one doing this to you breathing rapidly as he too reaches his orgasm. His seed floods you, seeping into your dilated cervix without anything to hold it back, and drenches the egg resting in your womb. A rush of realization goes to your fucked-out mind and you just know, with every cell on your body, and by some ancient design, that whatever he put inside you has been fertilized successfully in that very moment.

"Mine."

You hear the wicked mantra leave his lips one last time before you pass out, and you briefly have the opportunity to worry about your future. Is he going to keep you here forever? Or maybe your purpose will end with expelling the egg once it finishes its growth, to add another treasure to his collection. You can't help but wonder, when he says "mine", why is it that you don't mind whether he's referring to you or the good incubator that your womb makes?

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