winchester27 · 9 months ago
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I slept for ONE DAY and I come back to a literal hell fire of crushed Buddie hopes and whatever the fuck was said at the TCA 😭
SOMEONE FILL ME IN
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florenceisfalling · 2 years ago
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like idk. i miss seeing content from s.igne (though i respect gab wholeheartedly). i miss fanart from my favorite artists. i miss older eras of j.se at times (and yes, there were older eras, the way people pretended he Never Changed is just weird). i miss old anti designs. i miss the old fic trends. i miss having a very active fandom (though i am so happy to see the new arrivals) and i miss seeing him interact with fans the way he did on tumblr back in the day. i miss the way i used to interact with some of the blogs here before i decided to fuckin,,, wage holy war and make enemies out of them (joking, but i have seen sides to some of these people that i wish i could tear out of my memory). i miss feeling confident that i could trust the good intentions of people here and even the big man himself (not god. that makes sean sound like god. you know what i mean). i miss when some of you weren't so fucking bitter which is funny because i'm the bitterest bitch alive. idk. i don't think it's bad to miss any of these things because i'm not going to be an ass and act like it's anybody's fault. i'm not going to be bothered by gab for being happy because i'm glad she is happy, and i'm not going to get bothered by sean taking a reasonable step back from this hellsite when people were cruel to him, and i'm not going to get mad at trends for changing because that is how time works. but i do miss things and i know its cringe and parasocial and perhaps even problematic but i hate having to pretend like i never have Any feelings about the past lest i break a hypothetical rule of what is the Normal level of attachment to an online community. okay. i think i'm done now.
#one of my favorite writers left because they couldn't deal anymore and one of my favorite writers turned out to have shit views and one of#my favorite writers left because of something that was partly my fault and one of my favorite writers stopped writing because of two of the#others and one of my favorite writers hurt someone i love over and over and over and one of my favorite writers left because they were the#someone i love. two of the big names hate queer folk that don't align with their ideals and half the artists left for twitter or for dead.#the man himself left because criticism always becomes cruelty and people lie to make themselves feel good.#the editors all turned their accounts private and my favorite told me on livestream that i was good and starting somewhere but then forgot#my name. and i thought maybe i was the bitter one but then i look at some of the other people who have been here so long and wonder why#they even bother anymore because they care more about complaining with everything j.ack does than anyone who actually enjoys his stuff.#and you know i poked fun at *** for a lot of things. some deserved some not. and one of them was the fact that she compared fandom#to warfare. and yes that's still silly i don't think it's a fair comparison but i do know that she wasn't fully wrong.#when you've been here for a long time and ive Been here for a long time you start to get really used to names and faces#and the change can be like waking up to a new wallpaper in your room. not a bad one just a new one.#i don't want to pretend that this fandom is just a silly little hobby for me when lets be honest i know some of yalls personal lives a#little too dearly for that. ive loved people here ive lost people here the first person who showed me this place fucking DIED and i still#lose it sometimes over the fact that he would have loved jameson so much and we couldve been closer friends had he stayed alive a few more#years. so yeah. sorry for being fucking cringy or whatever but there have been times where i've felt like im on a sinking ship watching#everybody else row away and i refuse to go. so like. cool. cool. im glad things are good again but i never really got to process the bad#things.
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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 11 months ago
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Burns Like Rum
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.
Word Count: 7,840 words
Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet
18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock
Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.
The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.
He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.
It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.
But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.
You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.
"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.
Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.
And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.
You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.
"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.
"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.
"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"
You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.
"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"
Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."
You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."
You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.
It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.
The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.
She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.
"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.
She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.
You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"
"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.
But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"
"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."
Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.
Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.
He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.
You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."
From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."
He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."
"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.
"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."
You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."
"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.
You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.
Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.
Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"
"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.
He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.
"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable
"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."
He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.
"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.
Astarion sighed. "...Night."
~❊~
You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.
You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.
"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.
"Stop what?"
"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.
Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"
"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."
You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"
Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."
You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."
You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.
His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.
"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."
"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"
Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.
"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.
Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.
"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"
"I could go for a little," you said.
Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.
You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.
He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.
"You're starving, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."
Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"
You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."
His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"
A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.
Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."
"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.
He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."
~❊~
Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.
You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.
You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."
Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.
He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.
A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"
You nodded. "Just a bit."
Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."
You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.
"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.
He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.
"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"
Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."
Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.
"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.
You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.
It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.
Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"
You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.
The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.
You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.
Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"
You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."
"Are you ready?"
You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.
Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.
One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"
"Please do," you said.
"Arms up."
He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.
"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.
"Yes, dear?"
You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."
He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.
"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.
You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.
"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.
You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"
"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."
Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.
Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.
"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"
You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.
Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.
Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.
He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.
Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.
Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.
"Look at you," he whispered.
The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.
He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.
He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.
"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."
You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.
You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.
"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.
He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.
"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.
He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.
"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."
Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.
He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.
You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.
Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.
Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"
"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.
He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."
He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.
You smiled. "There's more where that came from."
Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.
You nodded. "I can take a few more."
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."
You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."
The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."
He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.
Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.
He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.
"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.
You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."
The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."
You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."
He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."
You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"
Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.
"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.
Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.
You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.
You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.
"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.
He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.
Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.
Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.
The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.
Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.
But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.
He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"
You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."
He snorted. "Excuse you!"
"It's all over your face!"
He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."
Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."
He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.
"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.
"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"
Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."
You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.
"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.
You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"
The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.
"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."
He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."
You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.
His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.
His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."
You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."
Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.
"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."
He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.
You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.
When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."
You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."
You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."
He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."
Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.
You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"
~❊~
You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.
Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.
Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.
You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.
You were wrong.
Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.
"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"
You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"
She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"
"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."
She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."
You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.
You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.
Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"
You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"
"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"
"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."
Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.
"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.
Astarion smirked.
"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."
He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.
Karlach squeaked.
"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."
"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."
You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"
Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.
A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.
You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."
Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"
Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"
"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."
"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin
part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}
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dark-night-hero · 7 months ago
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"Why are you avoiding me?" It was those words that made you look up from the book novel that you are reading. There was your lover hovering over you, causing you to frown and slightly move away. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Don't lie, even now you're avoiding me." This time, he looked so frustrated, he look like he was about to cry if you do actually admit you are avioding him in which you are not. "Look, Luc. I'm not ignoring you, okay?" You spoke, brushing him off as you stood up and went towards where the open window is.
He went towards you to follow you when you hold up a hand to make some distance between the two of you. For the first time these days were you have been avoiding him, there was a pained look on his face that made your eyes go wide. Quickly setting your book down as you hurriedly chase after him who was now walking out of the room. "Wait! I'm not ignoring you, I swear to Lord Barbatos! I just need some distance between us okay?!" You explain in panicked.
"Isn't that the same thing?" There was a small sad smile on his lips, "Are you tired of me- of us-?!" "No! That's not what I meant! It's just you're hot!" .... "Huh?" He was dumbfounded. What did you just say? "I'm hot?" "No! Not the hot you're talking about but you're hot, it's hot!"
Then it sink in, these nights were you refused to be held, the lack of skin ship the two of you had except for a kiss here and there. You putting up a good distance between the two of you. It is summer, and it is hot as fuck. And he is a pryo user and they sometimes emits heat unknowingly, it can be because of the cold, or maybe because of the heat that it affects them unknowingly.
"Ah." "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away, I thought you were doing in on purpose knowing how Kaeya and I have been messing with you before. I didn't mean to ignore you. It was just... it's so hot." You look down, of course it was fun to tease him, but now knowing he has been turning all along unknowingly to you, you felt sorry for your behaviour. "Forgive me?"
"Only if you let me cuddle with you at night." He smirks, holding your free hand that was not holding the book. This causes you to groan and pout. "But it's hot..." "Well make it work somehow." He laughs. What more can you do when you are blinded by his bright laughter? "Fine! Just make the room cool somehow before we settle down" "Of course, my love." He spoke, putting your hand close to his lips before giving it a kiss.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°
: I lived in one of the coolest place in the Philippines every year end so I'm guessing the heat I'm feeling in our province this summer is nothing compared to those who lived in the city but damn. ITS SOOOO HOT HUHU I FEEL LIKE I'M BURNING EVERY TIME I STEPPED UNDER THE SUN.
: Reklamador nang pakinggan pero sinusubukan ng init ang pasensya ko nowadays.
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chuthulhu-plays · 4 months ago
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I generally watch LPs of horror games bc I'm too anxious to actually play them but a lot of them have FANTASTIC stories, so sometimes I just binge-watch KrinxTV for background noise. Been watching a lot of playthroughs of Still Wakes The Deep because it's such a delight to hear Scottish voice actors get work and I thought I'd address some questions I keep seeing Let's Players ask:
--Adair is a member of the National Front as you can find out from posters in his cabin, a Neo-Fascist British political party that’s been going since the sixties. While it often preaches British ethnic unity, in practice that often means ��everybody in the UK should be exactly like East End Londerners” and features plentiful disdain for Scottish, Irish, and Welsh folk, alongside those perceived as “not British”. No wonder the wanker eats alone in the canteen.
--Neeps and Tatties=turnips and potatoes, mashed, drenched in butter or sauce. Fills your belly, keeps you warm, probably makes you sink like a stone because it’s so heavy.
--Cranachan=a dessert made of raspberries, honey, cream and oats, absolutely delicious
--Rennick calls Caz a “wee ned prick”. Ned is apocryphally said to stand for “non-educated delinquent” and is basically just a way of calling someone an uneducated, lower-class criminal
--A lot of things said by and about Roy indicate that he’s a teetotaller who went through AA and specifically became Catholic and is making an effort at converting Caz.
--I think it’s entertaining how Scottish nicknames often follow a pattern of shortening/rejiggering that I also see a lot with Australian nicknames—Cameron becomes Caz, Rafferty becomes Raffs, etc. Trots is an unusual one but is almost certainly a reference to him being a communist, presumably a Trotskyist. Gibbo is also an unusual one in that it’s just very silly. There’s a kind of indignity implied in being killed by a guy called Gibbo.
--A few times on the radio you hear the Shipping Forecast, a type of weather report aimed at specifically reporting weather conditions out on the ocean, and is also famous for the report being read in such a calm, soothing tone that some folk use it as a sleep aid.
--All the yellow paint for interactable things is very video gamey, yes, but is also in line with old British health and safety standards, and yellow paint on things like emergency ladders or on the edges of stairs that are trip hazards is a thing ou can still see in some older buildings.
--Caz keeps saying he’s “good with the leccy”; leccy=electricity. Caz is implied to be quite a wee guy who can get through a lot of tight spaces, and my uncle swears blind that electricians used to refuse to take on apprentices over a certain size because they only wanted to train wee guys who could get up into the tight spaces that a lot of older buildings are full of. On that note, “wee man” is a term of endearment, generally, and isn’t exclusively applied to short guys.
--Finlay saying of Gibbo that “he’s no right” is INCREDIBLY OMINOUS. It sounds mild but “he’s no right, that boy” is what older folk say about a child who’s been found disembowelling cats for fun or someone they strongly suspect is a pedophile. It’s not something you’d say about a friend who’s just acting a bit unusually.
– “Great minds united over a Buckie”--Buckfast, or Buckie, is a caffienated tonic wine that’s cheap, widely accessible, and is a bit like rocket fuel for bad decisions.
– “Ya roaster” tbh I don’t really know where it comes from, calling someone a roaster, but I’ve always felt like it has a vibe of telling them they’re huffing their own farts.
--Scunnert/scunnered--buggered, screwed, utterly fucked, etc
– “You’re the jammiest bastart on this rig” Someone who is jammy is someone who has incredible luck that is implied to be related to their sheer confidence or willingness to engage in risky behaviour. Walking along the street and finding a pound coin isn’t jammy; crossing the road confident that the cars won’t hit you and stopping in the middle to pick up a pound coin before making it unscathed to the other side is jammy as all hell.
--Barlinnie is the biggest prison in Scotland, and largely hosts violent offenders—it’s where Caz would definitely go for hospitalizing a man.
--Weans are children (contraction of wee yins/wee ones). I thought this one was contextually obvious but apparently not.
SPOILERS BELOW
--”One spark and the whole thing’ll go up”—this is referring to the wee spark of flame in the lighter used to blow up the rig, but is also kind of a pun because electricians are often called sparks or sparkies, and in the end it’s Caz who blows up the rig.
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bitchesgetriches · 6 months ago
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Everything You Need to Know about How to Increase Your Income
Make more money at the job you have
One of the simplest ways to increase your income is to just make your current employer pay you more. But while it may be simple, it ain’t always easy.
Santa Isn’t Coming and Neither Is Your Promotion: How To Get Promoted
How I Chessmastered Myself Into a Promotion at Work
The First Time I Asked for a Raise
You Need To Ask for a Fucking Raise
Ask the Bitches: “Can I Quit With Unvested Funds? Or Am I Walking Away From Too Much Money?” 
The Ultimate Guide to Growing Your Salary
Make more money at your next job
All that said, you’re statistically more likely to increase your income faster by job hopping! So if your current employer doesn’t want to pay you more, leave that sinking ship behind in pursuit of a higher salary.
Job Hopping vs. Career Loyalty by the Numbers
The Fascinating Results of Our Job Hopping vs. Career Loyalty Poll
How NOT to Determine Your Salary
When It Comes to Salary Negotiations, Are You Asking for Enough?
What To Do When You’re Asked About Your Salary Requirements in a Job Interview
If Your Employer Refuses To Negotiate Salary, Try These 11 Creative Counteroffers
Season 4, Episode 9: “I’m on the Wrong Career Path. How Do I Convince a New Industry To Take a Chance on Me?” 
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Of course there are some who say the true path to wealth is passive income: when you stop working for your money and instead let your money work for you. And they’re not wrong! Here’s how we recommend you increase your income passively.
When Money in the Bank Is a Bad Thing: Understanding Inflation and Depreciation
Investing Deathmatch: Investing in the Stock Market vs. Just… Not 
What’s the REAL Rate of Return on the Stock Market?
Dafuq Is a Retirement Plan and Why Do You Need One? 
Procrastinating on Opening a Retirement Account? Here’s 3 Ways That’ll Fuck You Over.
Season 4, Episode 1: “Index Funds Include Unethical Companies. Can I Still Invest in Them, or Does That Make Me a Monster?” 
Small Business Investing: A Kinder, Gentler Alternative to the Stock Market 
The Dark Magic of Financial Horcruxes: How and Why to Diversify Your Assets 
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When it comes to side hustles, we have traditionally advocated caution. The last thing you want to do is burn out in pursuit of a second income stream. But with enough wits and fortitude, a side hustle could help you increase your income by leaps and bounds.
Romanticizing the Side Hustle: When 1 Job Isn’t Enough
Season 2, Episode 9: “I Use My Free Time to Volunteer. Should I Focus on Making Money Instead?”
Stop Undervaluing Your Freelance Work, You Darling Fool
Freelancer, Protect Thyself… With a Fair Contract 
Season 4, Episode 10: “I’m a Freelance Artist. How Do I Price My Work Fairly Without Losing Clients?”
Ask the Bitches: My Boss Won’t Give Me a Contract and I’m Freaking Out 
“Independent Contractor” My Ass: How to Stop Wage Theft Through Worker Misclassification 
Becoming a Millennial Entrepreneur (In the Midst of a Pandemic) With Katelyn Magnuson 
11 Awful Mistakes I Made as a Self-employed Freelancer, and How You Can Avoid Them
The Magic of Unclaimed Property: How I Made $1,900 in 10 Minutes by Being a Disorganized Mess
I Am a Craigslist Samurai and so Can You: How to Sell Used Stuff Online
What to do when you make more money
Once you increase your income, you might find yourself… not quite bored, but finding you have a little more bandwidth to handle the stuff that matters. It can be a jarring transition! Here are our thoughts on the matter.
Season 3, Episode 7: “I’m Finished With the Basic Shit. What Are the Advanced Financial Steps That Only Rich People Know?” 
Season 3, Episode 4: “The More Money I Save, the More I’m Scared To Lose It. Can I Break the Cycle of Financial Anxiety?” 
How to Avoid Lifestyle Inflation … and When to Embrace It
Ask the Bitches: I Know How to Struggle and Fight, but I Don’t Know How to Succeed
Update: I Know How to Struggle and Fight, but I Don’t Know How to Succeed 
The FIRE Movement, Explained 
I Was Happy to Marry a Poor Man. Then Things Changed.
I Have Become the Rich Relative I Always Wanted 
Believing in Miracles: A Conversation with Chris Dane Owens on Money, Creativity, and Self-Funding Art 
I Now Make More Money Than My Husband, and It’s Great for Our Marriage 
Season 2, Episode 1: “I’m Financially Stable, but My Friends Aren’t. The Guilt Is Crushing!”
The Resignation Checklist: 25 Sneaky Ways To Bleed Your Employer Dry Before Quitting
Advocate for systemic change
We don’t endorse an attitude of “I got mine.” So once you increase your income, there are lots of ways to use your newfound financial breathing room for good! Lift as you climb, my friend. Here are a few ways to do so:
Wallet Activism: Using Your Money for Good with Author Tanja Hester 
Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job 
Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make All Our Lives Better
Post a Salary Range in the Job Description, You Fucking Cowards
1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap
The Truth About Unions: What Has Organized Labor Done for You? 
How To Support a Labor Strike with 3 Simple Steps
Everything in moderation
One last thing, my lambs: don’t crush your spirit while chasing the goal of a higher income. Working hard is hard work. If you find these tactics are leaving you exhausted and demoralized, you might be on the road to burnout. And that road leads nowhere good!
That’s why we just released our glorious new Burnout Workshop. Click the button below to take a peek!
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itneverendshere · 5 months ago
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THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - two
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
WARNINGS: maybank!reader x sorta canon!rafe; doesn't exactly follow the real plot line but...it does?; am i turning this into a series? maybe.
word count: 6k...
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Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened. It couldn't have happened; it must have been a figment of your overactive imagination. 
There was no way in hell you would have let Rafe Cameron have you on top of a dining table, living up to the derogatory "dirty pogue" nickname. You were better than that. You knew better.
Despite that...You found it impossible to look at him for the next forty-eight hours. In fact, facing yourself in the mirror became a challenge, so much so that you refused his help in tending to your wound. Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age. 
Initially, there was clearly tension between you and Rafe.
Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—but there were bigger things at stake, and so, you pushed the nagging feelings aside, focusing on one thing only: getting out.
You and Rafe didn’t mix, oil and water, two stubborn bastards with heavy emotional baggage. Sometimes it was tricky to work together, but other days, it flowed so easily it gave you whiplash. 
In the time that followed, you both worked tirelessly to plan your getaway, meticulously plotting every detail to ensure success and not another round of bullets.
Your job was to sit around and act innocent, while Rafe had to ensure you had a way out and enough money to pay someone off. Avoiding Ward was easy enough since he spent most of his time in Guadalupe.
Rafe scoffed; his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed the small, weather-beaten boat skeptically. "I'm not getting into that piece of shit. No fucking way," he declared, voice dripping with disdain.
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the frustration growing in your chest.
He was so fucking insufferable. 
"Oh, so you've got a better suggestion?"
He shot you a glare, but you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes caught the shimmer of the clear night sky, "I do," he retorted, gesturing towards a sleek motorboat moored nearby. "That one looks like it might get us somewhere without sinking halfway."
You followed his gaze, your entire face scrunching up as you took in the sight of the motorboat. It was certainly more modern and well-maintained than the rusty old dinghy you had been eyeing, but something about it made you uneasy.
"Hell no?” you hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. "It seems a bit...too much. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."
Rafe rolled his eyes, "C'mon,” he scoffed, "This isn't the time to be playing it safe. We need to get out of here, and that boat is our best chance."
You bit your lip, torn between your instincts and Rafe's seemingly reckless impulsiveness.
On one hand, you didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but on the other hand, you knew that time was running out and you needed to act fast. Ward was coming back to the island soon enough and if he dragged Rafe away with him…you were a lost cause.
There was no third chance. 
“What about the guards?” your voice dropped to a whisper as you glanced around nervously. The last thing you needed was someone overhearing your plans.
“I’ve got it covered,” Your skepticism must have shown on your face because he stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not about to let us get caught. I’ve been dealing with Ward’s security my whole life. I know how to slip past them.”
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Fine. But if this goes south, it’s on you.”
“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.”
"You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"
"Keep your voice down."
The sleek motorboat gleamed in the fading light, its potential for escape glinting like a promise of freedom. 
As night fell, you both moved with practiced stealth, with a reluctant nod, you followed him towards the sleek motorboat. The docks were eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the waves against the hulls of the boats. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kept a lookout for any sign of the guards.
Rafe moved with the confidence that you envied, quickly untying the boat and preparing it for departure. You glanced around nervously, half-expecting to hear the shout of a guard at any moment. Every shadow seemed like a threat, every noise a potential alarm.
“Hurry up,” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder.
“Calm the fuck down,” Rafe muttered, though he did quicken his pace. “We’re almost ready.”
Your anxiety spiked. This was it. No turning back.
Rafe started the engine, the low rumble sounding like a roar in the silent night. You winced, half-expecting the noise to draw attention. The sound was louder than you expected. But luck seemed to be on your side.
“C’mon,” He whispered, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble, “Get in.”
You climbed aboard, your hands shaking as you settled into the seat. 
“Go!” you urged, glancing back at the docks nervously.
Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. The boat lurched forward, cutting through the water with surprising speed. As the island receded into the distance, you felt a little hope. For the first time in months, freedom was within your reach.
As he guided the boat out of the harbor, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 
“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Rafe said, a hint of smugness in his voice.
“Just keep your eyes on the water,” you retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right.
He adjusted the throttle, the boat picking up speed. "Relax, Maybank. Enjoy the ride," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern.
You shot him a withering look, gripping the edge of your seat. "Just focus on getting us out of here in one piece.”
He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "You think I don't know what I'm doing?"
"Frankly, I don’t care what you think you know. Just keep us moving.”
Rafe's hands tightened on the wheel, but he said nothing. The silence between you was a common thing, the hum of the engine the only sound cutting through the night. The coastline was a distant memory now, the open water vast and foreboding. You kept scanning the horizon, every wave hiding a potential threat.
"You're acting like we're about to get ambushed by pirates," Rafe finally said, his tone lighter but still edged with that irritation.
"Better safe than sorry," you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.
Rafe let out a sharp laugh. "Always so paranoid. That's what gets you in trouble."
You whipped your head around to glare at him.
“No, your family got me in trouble. In case you’ve forgotten.”
His face hardened, the easy bravado slipping for just a moment, “Huh, right. ‘Cause your friends are such fucking saints.”
“At least they’re not murder—”
You cut yourself off before you said it, but the damage was done anyways. Rafe's jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching again as he ground his teeth, lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't respond verbally, but the anger you could feel radiating from him was answer enough to you.
He turned his attention back to the horizon, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. The boat's engine roared louder as he increased the speed, the vessel slicing through the water with renewed urgency.
The waves splashed higher, and the night air became colder, but Rafe didn't seem to notice. His focus was absolute. Yeah, he was pissed.
What could you possibly say? Apologize?
There was no way in hell you were apologizing to him. Not after everything his father had put you through. If anyone owed an apology, it was him. And you knew you'd see the world end before Rafe Cameron ever uttered those words.
It was infuriating. There he was taking a step forward, leaving his loyalty to Ward behind and he still refused to show remorse if not between four walls with you. Never out in the open, never too loud.
You sat in silence, each lost in your thoughts, the weight of the past not letting you calm down the way you really wanted to. It was done.
And although you wished things had been differently, they weren’t. 
Despite the chill in the air, sweat prickled at the back of your neck, tension coiling in your muscles. The night stretched on, like it was never ending, you hated every minute of it.
After what felt like an eternity, light appeared on the horizon, signaling the approach of dawn. You breathed a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.
The worst was over, for now at least.
Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “We’re almost there. Keep an eye out for any patrol boats," he instructed, his voice curt and businesslike.
He was all focus still, that calculating side that had always unnerved you. 
You nodded, scanning the waters diligently. The further you went, the more the reality of your situation sank in. You were out there, in the middle of nowhere, relying on a Cameron to get you to safety. The irony was almost laughable.
“Where are we heading?" you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice was softer, dulled by the exhaustion.
"We'll head south, find somewhere to lay low for a while. I've got contacts who owe me favors."
“Uh? We’re not going back to The Outer Banks?”
He shook his head, attention fixed on the horizon. “No. Not unless you want to get killed.”
The Outer Banks, once your home, now felt like a trap waiting to snap shut. You should’ve figured Ward would send someone after you the minute he figured you were gone. A loose end.
Shills ran down your body as you remembered your close encounter with death. 
"Your contacts won’t sell us out?"
He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "They know better than to cross me. Criminal, remember?”
You sighed, ready to jump into the water if it meant a little space from the unbearable atmosphere. Despite everything, you couldn't ignore the nagging feeling of guilt from what you’d almost said before.
“You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Listen,” you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. He glanced at you, his expression guarded, but you continued, “I don’t care, okay? Not right now. What matters is that you’re here, not with him.”
Rafe's face softened slightly; the hard edges of his demeanor were momentarily blunted by your words. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were chewing over something in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued than before.
“If you say so.”
As you drew nearer to the shore, details of the island began to come into focus. Lush greenery blanketed the landscape, punctuated by towering palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was oddly like the place you’d been stuck in for months, but this time, there was no sense of dread in you. The boat slowed as Rafe expertly maneuvered it into a small cove, sheltered from prying threats by rocky outcrops and overhanging foliage. With a soft thud, the vessel came to a stop, the engine sputtering into silence.
Once he was done, he stepped onto the water, knees deep as the sandy shore still lay a little ahead.  
You blinked in confusion as he turned to you, his arms open wide in a gesture that left you momentarily perplexed. The water lapped gently against the sides of the boat, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.
"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.
“Helping you.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his simple gesture of assistance. It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, a faint blush tinged your cheeks at your slowness.
In all fairness, you weren’t used to this side of Rafe. You’d only seen it a few times and it was…something else entirely.
“Right.”
As Rafe's hand brushed against your waist while helping you out of the boat, your skin prickled in goosebumps. Traitor.
You quickly brushed off the sensation, chalking it up to nerves from the situation. With a grateful nod, you stepped onto the sandy shore, feeling the warm grains shift beneath your feet. The island stretched out before you, its landscape dotted with lush vegetation and towering trees. It was larger than you had expected, much bigger than Ward’s private hell.
"We should find a place to sleep,” you said, turning to Rafe as you scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization.
He nodded in agreement, his gaze following yours as he surveyed the landscape. "Let's head towards the center of the island. There should be some motels.”
With a shared nod, you set off along the sandy shore, the waves crashing against the beach providing a rhythmic backdrop to your footsteps.
As you walked, an uneasy feeling crept over you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, maybe it was just the paranoia that had become like second nature to you over the past year.
After a while, you noticed a winding path leading into the dense foliage of the island's interior. Without a word, you and Rafe followed it, venturing deeper into the heart of the island.
The sounds of civilization faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. 
Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, you emerged into a clearing. Before you stood a beat up motel, its faded paint and weather-beaten facade blending seamlessly into the surrounding landscape.
"This should do," you said, nodding towards the building, "I guess."
“Yeah. Good for a night or two, my contact won’t be here till then.”
As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Rafe followed closely behind you, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the dimly lit room. You approached the front desk, where a bored-looking clerk sat slouched behind the counter, flipping through a magazine with half-hearted interest.
"Hi there," Rafe said, flashing a charming smile as he leaned casually against the counter. "My wife and I are looking for a room for the night."
His what?
Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly hid your reaction, playing along with his impromptu act. It was obvious it wasn't the first time Rafe had pulled a stunt like this, and you had to admit, he had a talent for getting what he wanted.
To pretend and lie his way out.
The clerk glanced up from his magazine, peeking over the two of you with mild curiosity. "Sure thing," he said, his tone disinterested. "How many nights?"
"One for now," Rafe replied smoothly, reaching into his pocket to produce a wad of cash that you hadn't even realized he had. It was a substantial amount, more than enough to cover the cost of survival for at least two weeks. 
The clerk took the cash without comment, handing Rafe a key with a grunt of acknowledgment.
"Room 203," he said, gesturing towards a staircase in the corner of the lobby. "Upstairs, second door on the left."
"Thanks," Rafe said, pocketing the key with a nod of gratitude. He turned to you; his expression unreadable. "Let’s go, baby.”
Baby?
He must've been out of his goddamn mind. His hand found yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt oddly intimate. You glanced at him, confused, but he simply squeezed your hand reassuringly, focused on the hallway.
When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh. That always happened with him, there was always something new you couldn’t pinpoint, but eventually got used to. The charming, panty-dropping posture was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual brooding demeanor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a modest but comfortable-looking room.
“After you.”
You swallowed your surprise at his manners and stepped into the room, grateful for the relative privacy it offered. Rafe followed close behind, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was sparsely furnished, with a queen-sized bed dominating the space and a small television mounted on the wall opposite. A worn armchair sat in the corner, and a narrow window offered a glimpse of the night sky outside.
"It’s a fucking dump,” Rafe said, his tone light but with an underlying note of exhaustion. "But it'll do for now."
You sank onto the edge of the bed, resting the mattress. “Better than my room back home.”
“Really?”
"Don't act so surprised. We're not exactly living in luxury over there."
You could see the realization click on Rafe's face as if he’d forgotten your background, “Didn’t think it was that bad for you.”
"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."
“I can sleep on the floor, relaaax.”
You shot him a skeptical look, eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Seriously? You'd actually sleep on the floor?"
He shrugged, "Why not? It's not like I haven't slept in worse places."
You didn’t want to delve into that.
Instead, you only stared at him for a moment, searching for any hint of insincerity in his expression. To your surprise, you found none.
Moments like these reminded you that he was human, and you hated it.
“Okay.”
With a weary sigh, you rose from the bed and began to remove your shoes, the events of the day finally catching up with you. Exhaustion settled into your bones, dragging you down like an unbearable weight.
Rafe watched you for a moment before turning away to rummage through spare sheets and pillows, preparing a makeshift bed. There was no time to change clothes; you had left the little you had behind.
As you slipped beneath the covers and closed your eyes, you couldn't ignore the possibility that this was only the calm before the storm. It felt too easy.
You heard the rustle of sheets as he settled onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, “Don’t fucking snore, Cameron.”
Rafe chuckled softly, the rare sound carrying through the darkness of the room. "Wouldn't dream of it, Maybank.”
Hours later, you woke suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of your consciousness.
For a moment, you lay there in the darkness, disoriented and trying to make sense of your surroundings. Then, you heard it—a low, murmured voice coming from the other side of the room. Turning towards the source of the sound, you saw Rafe lying on the makeshift bed on the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. 
He was tossing and turning restlessly, his brow furrowed as he muttered incomprehensible words under his breath. The sight of him trapped in a nightmare weirdly stirred something protective within you. Despite everything, despite the walls he put up, you didn’t like to see him in pain. It felt so familiar, and for a second you were back home, in your room, rocking yourself back and forth after waking up in hysterical screams.
Moving quietly, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to kneel beside him. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.
"Rafe," you whispered softly, trying to rouse him from his slumber. "Hey, wake up."
In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear nearly knocked you out instantly but your body instinctively started against his hold as you struggled to break free.
Muscle memory and all.
"R-Rafe!" you gasped, your voice coming out in a strangled whisper as you clawed at his hands, desperate for him to let go. But he was so lost in the grip of his nightmare, his grip unyielding as he continued to squeeze, his eyes wide and unseeing.
Panic took over you as the world started to blur around the edges, darkness creeping into your vision while your lungs burned for air. Frantically, you tried to call out to him again, to wake him from whatever hellish nightmare held him in its grasp, but your voice was little more than a choked rasp.
“Rafe!"
Then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure around your throat disappeared, leaving you gasping and wheezing for breath as you collapsed against the bed.
Blinking away the tears that pricked at your eyes, you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, his hands shaking as he stared at you with wide, horrified eyes.
"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling, "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"
His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.
It was a startling thing to witness , seeing the usually composed and confident Rafe Cameron reduced to this, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see. For a moment, you were frozen, unsure of what to do or say.
But then, instinct kicked in again,and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.
He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could.
Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline. 
You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”
Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."
You remained silent, holding him close as he slowly calmed down. The weight of his body against yours was oddly comforting, grounding you and pushing back the memories of his violent outburst just moments before.
After a while, Rafe pulled away slightly, his eyes red-rimmed but clear as he looked up at you "I didn't mean to hurt—”
You reached out and brushed a stray lock of his blonde hair from his sweaty forehead.
“I know," you whispered softly, “It was just a nightmare. I have them too.”
You didn’t know why you offered him that solace.
"You do?"
You nodded, though you knew he couldn't see it in the dim light. 
"Yeah," you admitted, "They’re pretty bad too.”
There was a brief pause, filled only with the sound of your quiet breathing and the distant hum of the night outside.
Then, Rafe spoke again, "What do you dream about?"
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something in Rafe's earnest expression told you to be honest, to let down your guard just this once,
“Luke. You?”
Rafe's immediate reaction was defensive, hands pulling away from your body, “Doesn't matter."
You felt stupid for asking him such a personal thing.
He wasn't like you.
“Do you want to sleep in bed with me? It might be better than the floor."
"I'm fine on the floor. Don't worry about me."
But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily.
With a sigh, you reached out and gently grasped his arm, turning him to face you again, "Rafe," you said, voice borderline pleading, “Just sleep on the bed. Okay?"
For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the bed, but with a reluctant sigh, he nodded. 
"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."
With that, he rose from the floor and cautiously joined you on the bed. You shifted slightly to make room for him, and as he settled beside you.
“Don’t snore.”
“Not more than you do.”
The rest of the night passed in a blur of fitful sleep and restless dreams, but somehow, with Rafe by your side, it felt bearable.
When morning finally came, you awoke to find he was already gone, his side of the bed cold, no traces of his presence, and a messy scribbled note left behind on the bedside table.
"Picking up food and clothes, brb. Don't open the door."
You felt relieved that he hadn't disappeared without a word and was instead putting in the effort to rely on you.
Deep down, you knew he had left as soon as he woke up, probably sprinting out of the room to avoid waking you and having any awkward confrontations about last night. It was going to be a long day, especially if he was determined to hide his emotions. You knew the old, bad Rafe Cameron would make a reappearance.
You got up from the bed and stretched. You needed a shower. You stank. It had been two days since you had washed yourself properly, and the thought of having gone to sleep in such a state made you want to hurl.
You’d have to ask for another set of fresh sheets if you stayed another night.
As you stepped into the bathroom, the warm water cascading over your skin felt like a dream, washing away the previous night. The steam filled the small space, enveloping you like a comforting embrace as you took your time, allowing the water to ease the knots of stress from your muscles. You focused on washing away the dirt and grime, letting the familiar routine ground you.
Yet, even as you lathered soap onto your skin, your mind couldn't help but drift back to Rafe, to the way he had clung to you in the darkness.
Another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence. 
You stepped out of the shower, the steam still lingering in the air and with a towel wrapped snugly around your body, you stepped back into the main room of the motel, feeling refreshed.
“Huh, good morning to you too.”
You nearly jumped out of your skin, “Fuck!”
Rafe stood there, leaning against the doorway, something similar to a playful smirk at the corners of his lips as he watched your startled reaction.
His arms were laden with bags of groceries and a few articles of clothing.
"Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to make sure you were alive in there."
You stared at him incredulously, “Turn around!”
He scoffed, walking into the room as he closed the door with his foot, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
He said it so casually, it irked you. As if you two hadn’t been purposely ignoring that night ever happened. You shot him a withering glare, snatching a towel from the nearby chair and aiming at his face, full force.
"That's not the point, Cameron," you grumbled, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “And you didn’t see shit. I was dressed.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, catching the towel with ease before tossing it back to you "What's the matter, Maybank? You shy all of a sudden?"
“Will you shut up?”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he leaned against the nearest wall.
There was no point in getting into a pointless argument with him, especially not when you had more important things to worry about. Instead, you focused on drying yourself off and getting dressed in the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.
As you emerged again, fully dressed and composed, Rafe had already begun unpacking the bags of groceries, laying out an assortment of food on the small table in the corner of the room.
The sight of the makeshift spread made your stomach growl in anticipation, reminding you just how long it had been since your last meal.
“Hungry?” Rafe asked, glancing up from where he was arranging the food.
You nodded eagerly, making your way over to the table and helping yourself to a plate of fruit and plain toast.
As you ate, Rafe filled you in on his plans for the day. It was strange, hearing him talk so casually, without insults, without fear, or threats. For so long, you had seen him as nothing more than a spoiled, entitled rich kid, content to go through life on his family’s wealth and influence.
But ever since that night, you couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of respect for him. He wasn’t Ward.
When he finished speaking, you glanced up from your plate, “Sounds like a plan. Is your contact here, yet?”
“Nah, only tomorrow.”
“Great. So, we’re on our own for now?”
“Yeah, you and me, Pretty Maybank.”
"Hey," you began, your tone light as you tried to sound casual, "I've been curious—why do you call me 'Pretty Maybank'? Is there a story behind it?"
Rafe's gaze flicked up from where he was picking at his food. He seemed taken aback by your question as if he hadn't expected you to bring it up.
He shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted his voice casual but tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Just seemed fitting, I guess."
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Fitting? How so?"
Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that.”
You felt like there was more to the story.
“Oh.”
He leaned back, now sat in the old chair, “Might start calling you snoring Maybank though.”
Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile, “You’re not funny. At all.”
“Sure.”
You tilted your head, studying him intently. He looked like a completely different person from last night, “Do you feel any better?” 
“About what?” He feigned innocence, avoiding your gaze, as his fingers started tapping nervously on the table. You knew what that meant. 
You leaned forward as you reached out to touch his hand gently. “Uh—Y'know, last night, your nightmare.”
“Don’t,” Rafe's abrupt change in demeanor catched you off guard, his walls shooting up in an instant, his tone laced with defensiveness.
You straightened up as you withdrew your hand, a wall of your own rising to match his. 
"It’s not important," he snapped,"Just drop it, okay?"
You recoiled at his harsh tone, the way he spoke down at you making you want to slap him across the room. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever demons haunted him in the night, and you knew better than to push him when he was like this.
But you were feeling inspired.
“Why do you always do that?” You blurted out, frustration taking over your mouth.
You needed some sense of security around him, and every single time you were close to getting it, he backed out.
He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you “Not doing anything.”
"You always shut me out," You continued, words coming out in a rush as you struggled to articulate your feelings. "Every time. You say a few words, and then bamb, gone. We’re not friends, that’s fine. But I need to know you’re someone I can rely on, okay? You can’t be doing this. One moment you’re all trusting and the other…I don’t even know what the fuck you are. You can say no nicely, you don’t need to act like a dick.”
Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted,"I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."
The words stung like a slap to the face.
You felt the color drain from your face.
"Protecting yourself?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "From what, exactly? Me?"
He didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Keep your voice down.”
You shook your head, standing up from your seat. He'd said the same exact thing before you got on the boat and you were tired of being pushed aside like a toy.
“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”
Rafe felt himself flinch, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly. There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy.
"You think I don't know that?" he growled, “You think I don't carry that guilt with me every single day?"
His words caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face.
"You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door.  “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."
You let out a groan, the sound scraping against your throat. "I’m trying to help you! Are you stupid? Oh my god.”
"I don't need your help!" he snapped, standing taller than you, "I don't need anyone's help. I've been doing just fine on my own."
You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, "Fine? Is that what you call it? Living on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, never knowing who you can trust? That's not fine, Rafe. That's not living."
His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, “I don’t know how to live. I know how to serve, that’s it.” His grip on your wrist tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself, "I just...I can't."
Can't trust you, you think that's what he wanted to say.
“Right,” You swallowed, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”
His grip loosened slightly, his hand falling away from your wrist as if burned, “I never said that.”
“You don’t have to. Dirty pogue, remember?”
His breathing mirrored your own, both erratic, leaning in closer, breath hot against your skin as his nose brushed against yours, “You think I’d risk my life for you if I believed that?”
“I don’t know. Would you?”
“You have no idea," he breathed, “Do you?”
"I don't understand you."
"Neither do I."
Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch seemed to tingle between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely.
You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. Like he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it. 
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.
“You can’t keep kissing me to avoid questions.”
"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."
You sighed, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his stubbled jawline, "It's wrong."
He closed his eyes, his breath hitching slightly at your words. For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, and retreat into his shell. But then, to your surprise, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.
"I know," he murmured against your lips,"But for now, can we just...be?"
You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."
Neither of you knew what you were doing nor the consequences to come. 
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asgardian--angels · 8 months ago
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Now that I've ranted on the phone to my fam a bit, I'll just say this. I call utter bullshit here. I refuse to believe no other streamer wanted to make a deal - David implied as much when he said there were many complimentary meetings. This was Zaslav refusing to sell for anything but an insane price tag just like Coyote vs Acme. He knows it would be a hit anywhere else that was willing to fund and market it. And he'd rather sink our ship and take himself down with it than let it flourish and make his company look bad (as if it can look worse at this point).
So you know what? Fuck all this. This is the hill I'll die on. David may have waved the white flag but I won't. We were prepared for a marathon, not a sprint, and two months is not nearly enough for me to throw in the towel. I want to see WBD implode. I won't rest until we get something, anything - a movie, a graphic novel, a Samba's cell phone basement version of s3, I don't care. If streaming is dying, let us put that final nail in its coffin for what it did to us and so many others who have asked for so little and been spat at.
Make some fucking noise about this. It's not over until we say it's over. I love and respect David dearly, but I have a lot of fight left in me.
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proxycrit · 9 months ago
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Elesa climbs to celestial tower to ring the bell. Emmet, stuck in between the distortion world, finds his way home.
Part 1/ Part 2
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The conductor falls, down, down, down.
“What’s my name?” He calls to the abyss in terror (what is terror?)
He’s a singular being, right? (That’s not right. He’s one of a pair.)
The abyss gazes back. It has no answers to give, in its multitude.
Not to someone that’s so, so alone.
———
Somewhere else, one Elesa of Nimbasa rings the Celestial Tower’s Bell, over and over. Her companion, Chandelure, keeps watch.
Nothing happens.
Elesa’s stomach sinks. The reverberations of Celestial Tower’s brass bell mocks her in its echo. The vibrations of it’s distortion only makes the tears she tries to hold at bay worse.
In the blur of her failure, she sees chandelure’s flames suddenly die. Part of her panics.
The rest of her is apathetic and numb.
What’s the point? It didn’t work. Elesa closes her eyes. Tries to swallow, and fails. She’s so tired. She’s so, so tired. The deal with Azelf, the media storm she’s weathered, the constraints of her job, the almost loss of chandelure-
Emmet has been gone for three months. Ingo has been gone even longer.
They have gone where she can’t follow.
Elesa, the ghost whispers in her head. Elesa shakes her head in denial. She doesn’t want to plan right now. She wants to curl into herself, and disappear, just for a bit.
Elesa!
“I can’t do this,” she croaks. The sob in the back of her throat bubbles outwards. She wants Zebrstika. She wants Skyla. She wants her friends.
The paliphet Azelf forced her forward. It permeates her thoughts, drowning out logical thought.
(Too much willpower, and it will become an obsession, Azelf had warned her once in Ingo’s voice. And then, in Emmet’s voice: And when you fail, it willll break you. And finally, in her own voice: you will not have a choice but to move forward, with this curse.
I accept, elesa and told it back in the lake.)
I’m so tired, Elesa thinks now, two months later.
But she keeps moving forward. The bell rings again as Elesa strikes it, with all the hurt and rage and longing forced by her own hand into her soul-
-And that’s when chandelure screams, and there is a terrible rolling crack, and Elesa feels the sudden lurch in her gut as she looks up, her apathy torn into shreds as-
The sky tears open in a fractal wave.
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Elesa gapes.
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She can not comprehend the sudden black webbing across the sky. In the distance, sirens suddenly start wailing as people stop to perceive the impossible.
But Elesa does not care, because in that moment, the wrench in her gut is so great she almost staggers off the platform. Chandelure is by her side in an instant, her glass body a warm comfort to the sudden chill, because-
Something white is falling.
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Elesa’s doesn’t know what she yells. But the tug in her chest feels like the beat of a drum, and she is helpless to the melody that calls for action.
Azelf’s blessed takes a leaping step forward, off the building. Chandelure lets out a panicked chime and the warmth of psychic cradles Elesa as she reaches out, arms outstretched, falling and flying and-
And Emmet, sparking with white electricity, reaches back.
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NOTES:
AU’s Salvaging the Ship of Theseus! Everybody has a Bad Time. (Emmet and Eelektross go to Hisui and learn about the joys of the distortion world. Elesa hunts legends and makes bad deals. Ingo babysits some sneaslets.)
Backstory and explanation:
Prior this scene, Emmet was travelling Hisui with Eelektross before he falls through a mirror and becomes lost in the distortion world for a month. Elesa and Chandelure, meanwhile, refuse to give up on their remaining friend. (Ingo’s fine! He’s in Hisui right now trying to get fired so he can go searching for his memories. Eelektross is… less fine. We will Worry about That Later.)
Disclaimers: Everything’s a work in progress and subject to change!
Part 2!
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chsopnk · 2 months ago
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「 ✦ MY COFFEE BLACK… ✦ 」
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☆. # SHIP — satosugu x m!reader
☆. # AUTHOR’S NOTE — you work at a cat café and two guys keep coming back—but not for the coffee… or the cats. ;; requested.
☆. # WARNINGS — none! (cut bc its quite long and i dont want to clutter someones dash!)
The gentle hum of conversation and the quiet purring of cats filled the cozy atmosphere of Neko Haven, a small cat cafe tucked away in a quiet corner of Shibuya. It wasn't flashy or well-known, but for Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, it had become a regular haunt over the past few months. Every Thursday, without fail, they would slip into the cafe after work, sinking into their usual corner by the window, sipping lattes while the cats curled up around their feet.
But it wasn't the cats or the coffee that kept them coming back.
It was you.
From behind the counter, you moved with practiced ease, serving drinks with a quiet smile and a soft "thank you" as you took their orders. You were different from the hustle and bustle of the outside world-calm, collected, and gentle in a way that drew them in without effort.
"You know," Satoru murmured one Thursday evening, watching as you expertly frothed milk for a cappuccino, "I'm starting to think this place might be my new favorite. Best coffee l've ever had."
Suguru, who was longing beside him, snorted softly. "It's not the coffee, and you know it.”
Satoru leaned back in his chair, long legs stretched out under the table, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. "You think so? Maybe it's the cats. I do have a soft spot for them."
"Sure," Suguru replied, eyes flicking over to you as you handed a cup to a customer with that same warm smile. "The cats."
The two of them had known each other long enough to recognize the tension that had been building over the past few weeks. The shared glances, the way Satoru would straighten up whenever you approached their table, the slight shift in Suguru's expression when you laughed at one of his dry remarks.
They didn't talk about it, but it was there, unspoken but understood.
It had been Suguru who noticed you first, the quiet bartender who seemed to carry a sense of peace in every movement. Satoru had followed suit not long after, his curiosity piqued by your composed nature, so different from his own chaotic energy. What had started as friendly teasing between them quickly became something more complicated.
The bell above the door chimed as the last customer left for the evening. You were wiping down the counter when Satoru stood up, slipping off his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket. Suguru followed him, quieter, more thoughtful, but his dark eyes flicked over to you with a warmth he rarely showed to anyone else.
"You're here pretty late tonight," you said, smiling as they approached the counter.
Satoru shrugged. "We like the quiet."
"And the company," Suguru added, his voice low but sincere.
Your cheeks warmed slightly, but you didn't look away, meeting their gazes with a soft chuckle. "You two are flattering me again."
"Can you blame us?" Satoru leaned against the counter, his bright blue eyes glinting mischievously. "We wouldn't keep coming back if you weren't the best bartender in Shibuya."
"Second best," Suguru corrected with a small smile. "But only because you refuse to let us help."
You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and they couldn't help but share a look. The tension that had hung between them for weeks felt like it was about to snap, but neither of them was sure what would happen when it did.
"You're here enough," you teased, setting a clean cup aside. "Maybe I should put you two to work."
"Careful," Satoru said, leaning in slightly. "We might take you up on that."
Suguru glanced at him, then back at you.
There was something different tonight, something in the air that hadn't been there before. He felt it, and judging by the way Satoru's smile softened at the edges, so did he.
Your hands stilled for a moment, eyes flicking between the two of them. You could feel the weight of their attention, the unspoken question in their gaze. It wasn't just about the café, and you knew it.
"I like the company too," you admitted softly, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's nice to see familiar faces. Especially when they’re as interesting as yours.”
Satoru grinned, but it wasn't his usual teasing smirk. It was softer, warmer.
"Interesting, huh?"
You shrugged, leaning against the counter now, close enough to catch the warmth in Suguru's eyes and the way Satoru's fingers drummed lightly on the wood between you.
"You're good company. Both of you."
Suguru's gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between the three of you.
There was an understanding in the quiet, a shift in the easy banter that had marked your conversations before. It was something deeper now, something real.
Sator broke the silence, his voice gentle in a way that was rare for him. "We were thinking... maybe next time, you could join us. After your shift."
Your eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across your face. "Join you?"
Suguru nodded, his voice calm and sure. "For coffee. Or something else. We don't mind."
You felt the warmth spread through your chest at the invitation, your heart beating a little faster. It wasn't just coffee they were offering, and you understood that. There was a connection here, something that had grown between the three of you in the past weeks.
Suguru nodded, his voice calm and sure. "For coffee. Or something else. We don't mind."
You felt the warmth spread through your chest at the invitation, your heart beating a little faster. It wasn't just coffee they were offering, and you understood that. There was a connection here, something that had grown between the three of you over the past weeks, something that felt more solid now, more real.
"I'd like that," you said softly, meeting their eyes.
Satoru's grin widened, and Suguru's lips curved into a rare, genuine smile.
"Good," Satoru said, stepping back from the counter with a wink. "It's a date, then."
As they left the cafe, the bell chiming softly behind them, you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered in your chest. The two of them had been regulars for weeks now, but this felt different. The cafe was still, the cats curled up in their usual spots, and for the first time in a long while, you found yourself looking forward to something more than just another quiet evening behind the counter.
And when Thursday came around again, you knew they would be there, waiting. For you.
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ageingfangirl2 · 11 months ago
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Just Like That! Sanji (OPLA)
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LIGHT SMUT! You and Sanji share a rare intimate moment alone while the rest of the crew explore an island, and you realise just how loyal sanji is to you after you have some doubts. Sanji x Reader (Female) LIGHT SMUT!
It was an insufferably hot day and you'd refused to go exploring on the island you'd docked at because you didn't want to trudge through a jungle, instead choosing to stay on the ship with Sanji while everyone else left. You'd put on the pastel pink bikini Nami had made you buy and were lounging on a deckchair sunning yourself on the main deck. You knew why Sanji chose to stay behind, you just weren't sure who was going to confront the other first.
Sanji was a lady's man, always flirting with any girl who crossed his path. You thought it was annoying until he turned on the charm, and unlike Nami and Robin you actually enjoyed it, and after a couple months of flirting he asked you on a date and you agreed. Four months you'd be official and you were happy. You had some insecurities and despite paying attention to you, Sanji's eyes had wandered on the last island and it made you feel like crap. Was he bored of you? You'd chosen to avoid him instead of sitting down and talking.
You get up from the chair and stretch, rearranging your bikini which had ridden up a little. Not hearing the door behind you open as your boyfriend walks onto the deck from the kitchen.
'A man could get used to such a beautiful sight,' Sanji whistles behind you.
You spin around and see him holding a tray with two glasses of lemonade on eyeing you up and down with his greedy eyes, 'you say that to all the girls,' you spit out and pout, looks like you were the one doing the confronting.
Sanji hums and sits down on the edge of your vacated chair, putting the tray down on a small table and rolling up his shirt sleeves, 'Nami mentioned it. I'm sorry beautiful, my attention should be only for you. Let me make it up to you,' he says sincerely while patting his knee.
Sanji was the best lover you'd ever had, he was gentle and rough, knowing how to tease but then compliment you, and right now you were putty in his hands because you'd missed his touch. You straddle his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, 'then make it up to me.'
'With pleasure my lady,' he coos, and you gasp as he moves aside one half of your bikini top exposing your breast, 'let Sanji make you feel good.'
He gropes your breast before leaning down to kiss your nipple which sends a jolt through your body. You didn't realise how sensitive your nipples were because most guys you'd been with ignored them, 'shit--' you moan, and you feel Sanji smirk around your nipple.
Next thing you know he's removed your whole bikini top with a simple tug of the string around your neck, and starts playing with both your breasts, and you can't help but feel your cheeks blush as you slowly start to grind on him.
You bite your lip, 'fuck, why are you...mmh...why are you doing this to me? Feels good.'
Sanji wastes no time continuing his exploration of your chest by kissing, licking and flicking to his heart's content. He wasn't being rough, after all this was his apology.
You continue to grind, feeling Sanji's bulge, 'when I first met you Sanji, I didn't know you were like this, I thought you were a player,' you mumble as you dig your fingers into his thighs.
Sanji laughs, 'and I thought you were shy when we first met, but look at you now,' he grins, hands moving to grip your own thighs keeping you in place.
You unzip his trousers and he helps you pull them down along with this underwear, freeing his dick that already leaked precum matching your own wetness in your bottoms. You pull your bikini bottoms down and position yourself over him, Sanji watching and letting you take control.
'We can take things slow beautiful, as long as you're happy I'm happy,' he says sincerely, making it hard for you to not take him all at once.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and slowly sink onto him, pulling your two bodies closer until your head is on his shoulder.
'So beautiful,' Sanji moans, hands coming up behind you to cup your ass, 'why would I want anyone else, you're the only one for me.'
You smile against his shoulder as you position yourself comfortably, 'I love your Sanji, I'm sorry for doubting you.'
You gasp loudly as his fingers dig into your cheeks, 'and I love you, punishment comes later, right now I'm content like this.'
Despite the heat you shiver at his playful tone, knowing what he could do behind locked doors, and you loved it. But right now you were also content relaxing and cockwarming, stealing a very intimate moment with your lover before the rest of the crew came back.
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sant-riley · 2 years ago
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[Task force 141 + others with Gen z!reader] [pt3]
A/N: Some of these you /may/ have seen on tiktok, that is me who posted them on tiktok. I am green haired bitch so no I didn't steal anything LMAO. I hope these live up to yalls expectations.
The last two of these my lovely friend gave me inspiration for <3 @frogchiro
Warnings: She/her pronouns swearing, age gaps, tiktok memes (like always lmk if I miss something!)
~
You steal Prices hat on numerous occasions bc its a fashion abomination and you refuse to let this man wear it around you. You hide around base as frequently as you can.
Jokes on you though bc he will literally wait til it's your birthday and buy you a matching one and will laugh at your scream of disgust.
Gaz one ups him by gifting you a matching hat as well, putting it on your head as he flicks the brim.
"Thanks Gaz! I love it!
"And not mine?"
"You're on thin ice, old man."
Price gets gifted a set from manscaped by the guys as a gag gift. He uses it for his beard bc he never bothered to look into why everyone was laughing around him.
Price takes your phone when you try and show him memes, squinting hard as fuck like a dad 💀
Soap, if yall have the time off takes you to scottish football games and it's a whole thing. You sitting there while he gets drunk out of his fucking mind, hollering and whooping and you're there trying to sink into your seat.
Chances are someone's gonna shove you and you're gonna trip and fall bc everyone's so amped up and Soap threatens to beat the shit out of them. It's a miracle y'all don't get kicked out 💀
If you have tattoos, Soap is the first one to take a marker set and color them in and adding his own additions. If you were ever to get them actually tattooed, he would tear up and pretend he isn't emotional about it.
"You like me that much Bonnie?"
He would get something of you too, so it evens out. This also makes Ghost in turn get a tattoo for you bc he refuses to be out done and he's just as attached
Neither of them get your call sign or your name, but they get something personal to what each of them associate you with.
The first time you meet Alex, you're across the room doing something that has your focus and didn't realize this is actually your first time meeting him. You ask him for a hand only to look up and see him extend his prosthetic at you with a smile and you scream.
"You asked for a hand but best I can do is a Leg." Price comes running and he sees the scene and rolls his eyes.
Everyone single one of them are the definition of "my girl can wear whatever she wants bc I'll break your jaw." meme btw. You can take care of yourself but you never need to bc they will beat a bitch up.
Laswell invites you constantly to come over and meet with her wife, esp if you don't have a mother figure. She always always tries to come on base to see you and always has a birthday and Christmas present on it's way to you wherever you may be. Her wife loves you to death and they've pretty much adopted you and you cannot escape it, oh well.
Gaz buys you whatever your little heart desires, especially if he's deployed away in a country where they sell exclusives of whatever you enjoy. It's a pain in the fucking ass to try and ship a anime figure to your place from Japan but he's gonna try his best.
Ghost doesn't share his food, or at least it was before you came along. He groans and grumbles about having to feed you but he wouldn't do it if he truly didn't want to. Soap asks and Ghost tells him to fuck off.
If you watch anime, please imagine trying to get everyone in the room and trying to explain who Dabi is. They're all so fucking old they keep thinking you're referring to the elf from Harry Potter and it infuriates you to no end.
Soap and Gaz know better but it's funnier to see you mad.
Being the youngest, they absolutely force you to do the jobs they don't want to. Whether it be cleaning the barracks, to cooking dinner when able, it doesn't matter bc they'll all pull rank on you.
"You're the new kid, get to it then."
"Ghosttttt-"
"Don't Ghost me."
Soap is the kind of motherfucker to play the fifa games and doesn't understand that he's stupid for buying it every single year bc there are no changes oncesoever. He will not listen to you about it and you've given up.
Ghost will see you talk about your etsy list and will ask for your phone, you trust him so of course you hand it over. He hands it back to you and it's just, all purchased. He says nothing while he sips on his tea while you scream at him asking why he did it. He won't tell you but it's because he knows it makes you happy and it'll keep your mood up, giving you a reason to be motivated to get through missions. It's also because he knows that retail therapy is a thing for your generation.
Soap, if you do any, is actually really good at doing your makeup! He knows how to do everything and he refuses to elaborate. (As a kid he'd do his mom's makeup when she went out for dates) he's the one who helps you doll up if you're going undercover.
Ghost, Gaz and Price find you unfunny whenever you make a "wow I wish British people were real." You say it so often and it gets annoying but they also just accept it's a part of life.
Soap personally enjoys the "SCOTLAND FOREVERRRRRRR" meme and will scream it with you. Ghost threatens to cut yalls tongue out.
Other parts can be found under #Kayla writes <3
Taglist:
@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess
@stupid-ninja @milkmily
@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii
@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel
@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains
@marsbar127xx @baddump
@xncasi @king-cookiex
@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager
@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom
If you'd like to be tagged, go to my pinned post and comment there :)
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heartpiratedrabbles · 11 months ago
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Kids Anger
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Prompt: Kid and you have a huge fight, and in anger, Kid tells you to leave
~ Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Kid X Fem Reader X Killer
Killer watched the two of you fight as he often did. He learned early on which fights to step into to become the peacemaker and which ones to stay out of. You were yelling at Kid for going out of his way to fight a Marine ship and while everyone was alive, quite a few people were injured and the boat needed some major repairs. Even you had been shot in the shoulder during the battle amongst other injuries.
        “We won, didn’t we?! Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get off my goddamn back then” Kid was laying it on thick he was towering over you and it had been long since the rest of the crew made themselves scarce from your fight. Killer was in the corner leaning against the wall but you knew better than to try and get him to pick sides.
        “That’s not the point Kid. It was senseless, We got hurt for no reason, Not to mention the damage to Victoria Punk!” You were after all in charge of the crew's finances. A job Kid had given to you when he was too drunk to pay something off and it turned into plundering the entire village. We were never truly low on berries, Kid made sure of that, but you still would like to keep it above a certain threshold. “Nobody died this time but what about next time!?” It was another great concern of yours, Kid had already lost an arm and it took him god knows how long to wake up from that. It’s a sight you’d rather not relive.
        The two of you had been fighting for quite some time on the matter and neither side seemed to be letting up in this argument as both of you shot daggers at each other. “If I decide we attack that’s final. I’m you’re captain it shouldn’t matter what you think.” Kid slammed his fist into the wall right next to you. You tried not to flinch at the sudden and aggressive movement but couldn’t help but let out a little gasp, deciding to stare straight into his chest rather than make eye contact after such a weak display. “You can’t even fight, what do you even do around here to dare think you should even get a say in what I decide?!” Killer perks his head up at the sudden change the argument was taking. “A useless bitch like you should just stay out of the way” Your breath hitches at his word and you hear Killer yell Kid's name.
        You straighten your back, glancing up at your captain, blinking tears to stay away. His glare back at you is menacing and pissed, Your voice turns lower but unwavering, “If that’s how you feel..”
        “Feelings have nothing to do with this, facts are I let an absolute useless person onto this ship” His words dripping with venom that stung more than your shoulder, “If you can’t even listen to your captain's order maybe you should just leave.” It took a second for his words to sink in, waiting for him to retract his statement. But soon enough you whisper a fine under your breath before turning away and leaving the room. You could hear Killer starting his own fight with Kid at this point but it didn’t matter.
        You make your way to the captain's room, it’s where the three of you stayed after all, and start packing anything of yours that could fit into a single bag. You wince a bit as your shoulder starts to bleed from a sudden movement but still refuse to let tears escape. You look in the mirror once more, noticing just how tattered and covered in blood your clothes were, deciding to change into clean clothes one last time before continuing packing. Once the bag is full you head back to the deck and climb down a rope into the debris-ridden water below. You remember seeing a rowboat across the way from the now half sunk marine ship and you intended to use it.
~~~
        “What the fuck Kid” Killer gripped Kid's shoulder and turned him around as he could see y/n escape into the hallway, “What was that all about?” Killer couldn’t believe the words he had just heard from his captain and lover's mouth.
        “She fucken deserved it. What makes her think she can boss me around?” Kid was obviously still pissed beyond belief, huffing with anger in every breathe. He brushes past Killer, “If you need me I’ll be in my workshop.” Killer let out an exasperated sigh before trying to go find y/n on the ship.
~~~
By the time anyone had noticed you were gone, you had already found a row boat and started drifting away in the opposite direction of the ship.
Killer had told the rest of the crew to tell him when they find you but he had only assumed you needed some space after such a heated debate. He didn’t even bother to check the Captain’s Quarters, he doubted you wanted to be in such a place right now, if anything you’d be in a corner hitting the wall or a tight space to breathe and calm down. But as time went on, he grew increasingly more concerned at not hearing or seeing you.
Kid emerged from his workshop a couple of hours after the argument, cooled down a bit, and tired. The sun was long gone as he made his way to his room. In the past, your arguments could get out of hand but Kid could still find you angrily sleeping in his bed next to, or on top of Killer, begrudgingly making room for him. This time on the other, neither you nor killer were in bed, or even in the room for that matter.
He looked around to see your discarded clothes tossed on the ground and he noticed a lot more blood than he’d care to admit, had she been covered in this much when we were fighting? Regardless Kid turned on his heel to search for his two closest crew members.
Soon enough he ran into Hip who was carrying medical supplies, “Oh, Hey Captain. Have you seen y/n? She still hasn’t come to get patched up yet despite promising me she’d come later.” Kid stares at her for a second before she chuckles a bit, “Or did you take care of the wound yourself? How kind. Just remind her to change her bandages.” Kid stood there processing Hips words and she walked away chuckling. She was hurt? Why the fuck did she start a fight before getting treated? Kid started pacing the ship before he ran into an equally worried Killer.
“Kid have you seen y/n?” The taller blonde seemed to be anxious.
“Does it look like I’ve fucken seen her?” Kid snapped at his first mate, “Where the fuck could she have gone?”
~~~
You lay in the boat looking at the sky. The pain in your shoulder growing. You grit your teeth into some clothe as your fingers try to dig the bullet out. After another failed attempt you let out a painful, sorrow filled scream. You had realized a little to late into your little journey that when you were shot, the bullet never made it all the way through.
Truly, it was a great distraction from the events post battle. As you finally breathe in again you let your arm trying to dig the bullet out fall onto the floor of the boat. The adrenaline must have worn off at this point. The pain truly setting in as your mind wanders to what Kid said to you.
Finally, after hours of pretending to be strong. You let it out, you place your now bloodied hand on top of your eyes as the tears overflow.
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sabo-torao · 2 months ago
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Small disclaimer before you head in: this whole post will be referencing the TCB translation. I know VIZ handled the exchange I'm discussing differently, but I couldn't find anyone who talked about the original version and as a result I don't really know who is closer to the original meaning. In any case, the "analysis" should still stand. Whether Dragon was commenting Sabo's firmness or admiring his resolution, Sabo's still putting on a mask, and that's the point I'm trying to break down. Enjoy!
This very specific interaction between Dragon and Sabo in chapter 1083 has always stuck out to me.
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"My, you really are unshakeable."
which is an appropriate response to what Sabo said, of course. What kind of sensitive person reacts that way to the death of an innocent, right?
Even so, I can't help but compare the thing Sabo said to his actual, genuine reaction to King Kobra's death.
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He's devastated.
Sabo brokenly screams Kobra's name, and his expression is one of full despair; he never thought about killing Kobra, let alone letting him die. On the contrary, he actively tried to save him.
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Kobra told him to just let him go, that he was dead weight and he shouldn't be concerned about him, but Sabo straight up refused. In fact, Kobra's actions read way more as a sacrifice than an inevitable death; the king let himself die, knowing that this way Sabo could flee and reach Vivi and Luffy safely.
On the Lulusian ship, we see Sabo think about Kobra's last words to him and actively trying not to cry (and failing).
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That's not an unshakable man. He's suffering, he's grieving. He realizes he failed his very own mission of saving the king and lets the meaning behind Kobra's actions and words sink in.
It really puts his former reaction into perspective.
Sabo's firmness, seriousness and coldness in front of Dragon and Ivankov are nothing but a façade. He acknowledges that what he's about to say might come off as harsh, and that, even if he does feel sorry for Kobra, the tragedy doesn't weigh him down thanks to the results it brought, but it all sounds like he's reassuring himself more than actually showing his indifference.
Hell, he even drinks his glass of wine right after having said that "he doesn't really care". How can anyone take his words seriously?
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And we've been knowing Sabo is inclined to do this sort of thing since Dressrosa; he acted all cool and composed in front of Luffy but the second Koala called him on the Den Den Mushi he was weeping, having a hard time believing that his little brother didn't punch him or hate him for being alive all along. He even denied he was crying!
All because Sabo hates being seen as vulnerable, especially in front of the people he thinks he has to be strong for (Luffy, Dragon, etc). It's something I think goes back to how his parents treated him, since they scolded him for, y'know, having emotions and being a normal kid in need of love, but i digress.
I once saw someone describing Sabo as a very cold person in comparison to his brothers, even going as far as to say that Sabo doesn't care if people die if it means achieving the Revolutionary Army's goals (using this very interaction as proof), which couldn't be further away from the truth.
Bonney even says outright that it's weird seeing a "radical revolutionary" act so friendly when Sabo helps her out. Why would he do this if all he ever did was for "The Cause"?
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Yes, Sabo is ruthless, rude, violent at times, and his friendly demeanor could be seen as a little more volatile than that of his brothers', but he's not heartless. He's not a "meanings to an end" guy, he proves it time and time and time again, and it's disheartening seeing people label him as such.
Sabo is kind. He may not be as warm as Ace and Luffy, but he is fundamentally a good person. A generous, kind, caring, sensitive person.
No matter how hard he tries to hide it.
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fanaticsnail · 9 months ago
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I just binged a bunch of your fics and I have a tiny request for you! Could you do headcanons for Zoro and/or Sanji with a selkie reader (together or separately)? Please and thank you!!
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Masterlist here.
Word Count: Background Drabble, 700+. Per gentleman, 600+.
Hello dear anon! Thank you for challenging me with a mythical fic! I enjoyed my time crafting it for you. I hope you don't mind, I wrote them as more mini-fics/drabbles rather than HCs. I also snuck in an extra character because apparently the heart wants what it wants today, and I can't deny the words from wording.
Selkies are an aquatic race of fey native to the cold, wet northern coastlines. They live in villages on the shore, and occasionally mingle with outsiders. They have a particular wariness of humans, due to their tendency to steal their seal skins, but Selkie are otherwise very sociable creatures that love exploring the shores and the oceans beyond (Fact link, 5e Race)
@writingmysanity @gingernut1314
There was a battle above the surface, that was one thing you were certain of. Cannonfire, ricocheting iron balls and splintering of the wooden masts above the waves. You had never seen such violence, such hatred between two peoples. Recognising the marine lettering was no difficulty for you; their kind gracing your shores with regularity. 
It was the other vessel that drew you in. You heard laughter ringing down below the ocean surface, halting you in your retreat as you sought out its source with your blackened eyes. Your sisters had long since fled from the display of violence, opting to hide away and wait for the fighting to stop. But you remained behind, desperately seeking out the conclusion to the battle above. 
Suddenly, the marine ship began to flee from the engagement, but not before a figure was cast into the water and began rapidly sinking to the oceanic floor. Your eyes widened, your tail-flipper carrying you with haste to bring yourself over to the figure without a second thought. 
His hair was dark, his eyes were tightly shut, and his limbs refused to move in a way to propel him away from his approaching death within the salt water. A devil-fruit user, you thought, bringing your curious eyes over to his and seeking them out beneath his closed eyelids. The small scar below his left eye had your head cocking to the side in curiosity. 
“Luffy!” you heard several voices cry from above the surface of the water, the man’s eyes immediately opening to meet your own. His shock was written all over his face, his breath releasing in a bubbled huff that had his arms attempting to raise upwards to collect his breath to no avail. 
“Luffy,” you called in your oceanic language, smiling your feral face into his; revealing rows of sharpened teeth in a wide smile. His panic continued to rise, his lungs screaming for air as you took your time studying him. You drew your face impossibly close to his, unblinking eyes studying him as he struggles against the water. “Luffy,” you again called to him, your eyes and face beginning to relay a humanoid likeness, “Let me help you.” 
You ushered your body beneath his, chaperoning him to the surface of the water and drawing his body up to the surface of the water. He immediately sucked in a large ballooned breath of air, his neck snapping towards his ship to seek out the concerned and panicked faces of the members of his crew. After he made eye contact and flashed them a winning grin, he turned back to face your animalistic and beastly face, and upturned his eyes in gratitude. 
“You think you could take me to the ship?” He asked, a mischievous twinkle now reflected in his eyes as he checked over you. You nodded, beginning to ride the propelling waves over to the vessel. The figurehead of a ram was carved intricately against the ship’s stern, a beauty to behold as you danced your flipper and easily propelled you both to the splintered and fractured wood. 
He wrapped his arms around your upper flippers, nuzzling into the back of your neck and uttering his gratitude against your skin. Your voice harshly barked a cracked laugh at the gesture, enjoying his playfulness and kindness as he continued to tell you what a good seal you were. 
“Luffy, what are you doing?!” A woman with orange hair called out to him, eyes wide and panicked. 
“This seal saved me from drowning!” he called in return, with his broad smile pleasantly cracking his face, “Gotta rub its belly and thank it with a big scratch and a cuddle!” As Luffy drew himself over to the ship, he jumped from your back and took hold of the rigging above and began his slow climb to the top of the water. 
Your instincts screamed at you to return to your sisters, to withdraw away from these sailors; but as soon as your eyes sprung over to meet your eyes with theirs. Why, you were completely hypnotized.
Hoisting your body upwards, your beastly form shedding from your human form and shrouding yourself in a cloak of blubber and fur. You climbed in your nudity to the decks above, hoisting your legs over the side of the ship and revealing yourself to the entirety of the crew in front of you.
“Luffy,” the woman whispered, her shock written all over her face, “That is no mere seal.” Luffy cocked his head over, shock now written on his face at noticing your beauty in your human form.
“That is a selkie.”
Zoro
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The swordsman had never seen such beauty in his life. Although immediately drawn in by your otherworldly radiance, as the loyal first mate aboard the Going Merry: he stepped in and ushered the captain behind him and took a protective stance. A darkness was within your eyes, rotating your shoulders as you squared up to face this mysterious man. 
You knew from your place within the water below that when your eyes met his, he was a marvel to behold. But now with your close proximity to him, his valiance and loyalty to his captain had you immediately smitten. Widening your lips in a broad grin, you elevated your hands in front of yourself defensively and bowed your head low to him. 
“I mean neither you nor your crew harm, Protector,” your honeyed voice sweetly called to him. He was taken aback with your voice, stumbling in his step forward as he continued to shield his captain away from you.
“I’ll be the judge o’ that, Ningyo,” he uttered with a smirk;his eyes displaying a similar ferocity to yours in your bestial form. 
And that is when you decided you were going to court him. Your soul cried out to join with his; immediately smitten with the swordsman. You stayed with the crew for months, subtle touches over his shoulders, leaving a fresh kill at his feet first, before Sanji took it to the kitchen to properly prepare it. Everything you did, you did to please the swordsman. Every fiber of your being called to him and courted him. 
You began leaving your furred skin around in places for him to find, only for him to return it to you with a deep scowl and a verbal reprimand of: “Can ya stop leaving this around the place? It’s really annoying.” 
It was only when Usopp and Nami physically sat him down and spelt out the courting practices of Selkie folk that had his face burning with a bright vibrance and his eyes widened. His lips downturned in a deep frown as his blush rose, his shock at your shameless audacity of courting him so publicly without any context of his lacking comprehension.
He decided a full frontal confrontation was what was needed to tackle this, no room for any other mistaken intentions and misdirection for his lack of direction sense.
“You been leaving your blubber ‘round for me to find, Ningyo?” he yelled at you, heads snapping up from the crew around as they witnessed this verbal spat. 
“Yes,” you confirmed, laying back and basking in the sun atop the wooden deck.
“Why?” His pointed hazelnut gaze held the intensity of a man staring down his enemy. You refused to shy away; instead rising to your feet and squaring up to him.
“Because I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine,” your lip curled at the corner, your sharpened canines baring out in your brilliant smile. He reached down, claiming your biceps within his wide fingers and palm.
“Why me?” He growled, his tone low enough for only you to hear. You reached up your hand, softening your smile and cradling his angry face beneath your palm.
“Because I love you, Zoro,” you cooed up at his face, eyes half-lidded and full of nothing short of full adoration. His breath hitched in his throat, his mind not keeping up with the words you were relaying to him. 
“This why you kept bringin’ me fish?” He asked you, his nose crinkling up as his smile broke through onto his lips. You nodded, leaning into his face. You gently brushed your nose with his, closing your eyes as you breathed him in. 
Breaking from the gentle touch, you withdrew your nose from its contact and quickly bore your teeth at him, biting his chin in a gentle nip. He flinched at the contact, eyes widening at your expression.
“Next time I leave it out for you,” you growled at him, “Don’t bring it back to me, Protector.”
“I won’t, Ningyo.”
Sanji
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Sanji’s breath was sucked from his lungs, his eyes wide and wild at seeing a creature of myth and legend aboard the deck of the ship. He watched as your eyes slowly assessed the crew, your gaze lingering on Luffy before your gaze snapped and met with his. Your lips parted, your heart rose into your throat as your eyes began to widen at him.
From your position below the waves, shepherding the member of the pirate crew back above deck, you drew your attention to the blond member of the crew and were immediately intrigued. As your eyes met with his rounded, gray orbs; you knew for certain: 
This man was the most beautiful sight you had ever laid your eyes on. And looking at him, you knew he was immediately taken with you too. 
But you refused to give into your emotions that easily. 
For the next few months, you found yourself constantly nearby the ship known as the Going Merry. You constantly checked up on their non-swimming captain to ensure his safety traveling the seas, but your eyes always fell over the form of the chef amongst them. Each time you would leave, you always looked over your shoulder to notice the way his eyes would linger on you - always holding hope that you would turn back around and remain with him. 
Before you really knew what you were doing, you began ushering grandiose feasts of fish and crustaceans towards the Merry, always ensuring your blond was well supplied with a variety of ingredients from within the depths of the ocean. 
Kelp, seaweed and shells of vast variety began to find themselves on the windowsill of the kitchen; just as flowers, beads and brightly coloured stones were left out for you to find as you placed the gifts there. Each present had your heart swelling, but continuing to remain strong in not giving into your human emotions. He was human, and you were not. 
As the ship pulled into a far off dock, Sanji’s eyes met yours as you attempted to remain coy to his attention. You were bathing in the ocean; your lengthy hair covering the linen against your chest and over your hips, pelvis and glutes. Your eyes were shut, raking a sharpened, toothed stone through your hair to detangle it of its strands - your fur and blubber skin cast aside atop a rock behind you. 
Sanji was no fool. As soon as he began harboring affection for you, he asked Nami and Usopp for a variety of literature pertaining to aquatic mythos. He knew that if he were to claim your fur for himself, you would have no choice but to be with him. 
He bid a hasty farewell to his crew for the evening, gesturing with his chin over to your position to alert Nami to his intentions. She pursed her lips, attempting to hold back her smile as Sanji drew himself closer to you. 
As he drew his shaky hands over the skin laying so innocently against the moss-covered gray rocks, he stilled his descent and retracted his hand. Sensing his hesitation, you looked over your shoulder at him but chose not to address him. Your body and mind screamed at him to take it, to claim it for himself and, in turn, claim you. But as the seconds drew into minutes, minutes turning into several cold and unbroken moments - you finally turned to make eye contact with the chef behind you. 
He was sat directly beside your fur, a cigarette beginning to relinquish its flames down to the filter as he took in the nicotine-laced smoke. His expression was unreadable, stoic and still: something you had not seen reflected on his eyes in all the months you had known him.
“Sanji?” you asked, your brows furrowing in question. He shook his head, inhaling a final breath of his cigarette before stifling the tip and stuffing the butt into his pouch for later disposal. “Sanji, why won’t you claim me?” He again shook his head, closing his eyes and turning himself away from you. 
“I wanted to, mon cœur, believe me,” he confessed, nodding his head but holding his eyes closed. 
“Then why didn’t you?” you rose to your human feet and began stalking over to him. As you drew yourself over to his seated form, you knelt low before him, falling to your knees in front of him. 
“I would never force you to be with me, mon trésor. No matter how much I want you, I would never want you to be mine without knowing it’s truly what you want,” he confessed, opening his eyes to meet his eyes with yours once more. His eyes were pools of true adoration and love, swimming amongst the sunset reflected off the horizon. 
You sighed, reaching down and collecting your fur from its place beside Sanji and bundling it within your arms. Holding it tightly and firmly within your arms, you firmly squeezed it against your chest to hold it one last time before gently bowing your head and presenting it out to him. 
“This belongs to you, Sanji,” you whispered, stretching out your arms further in front of you, “Like my heart: it will always belong to you.” You heard his breath hitch in his throat, immediately falling to his knees in front of you and drawing you in for an embrace. He was quick to cradle you against his torso, smoothing his hands over your slightly damp hair and placing a sweet amount of quick kisses against your temple and hairline. 
You pulled away from his embrace, looking steadily into his eyes at first before propelling your face into his to claim his lips beneath your own. Your movements were slow, dancing with skill and passion as you took his bottom lip between your sharpened teeth. He groaned against your lips, whimpering as you dropped your fur and entangled your arms around him in a strong embrace. You clawed at his back in an attempt to hold him closer to you, your nails tearing small holes into the back of his jacket and finding residence in his muscular flesh beneath the material. 
“I will return it to you when you desire to go home to your sisters, mon cherie,” Sanji whispered, his heart swelling at your confession, “I know you will always belong to the wilds, and I refuse to selfishly keep you with me when humanity becomes all too much for you.” 
Hearing a small winced whimper, you broke away from his lips and gazed into his eyes. He looked at you with nothing but true adoration and love, his eyes softening as he pressed his forehead against yours. 
“I love you, Sanji,” you confessed, your voice low and as sweet as honey-wine. Sanji’s smile continued to shine against his cheeks, his eyes dancing lights behind the irises at such an impossible notion. To harbor the adoration of a mythical creature of great renown and legend, that was no easy feat. 
“I love you too,” he confessed, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, “And I hope to continue to be worthy of such affection from someone as amazing as you.”
Luffy
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“A selkie, hey?” He exclaimed with glee, immediately bringing himself before you, “Does that mean I can’t give you belly rubs, a scratch and a cuddle?” At that small question, your heart immediately swelled with the fierce desire to travel with this devil-fruit user. 
“I do not think a belly rub or a scratch would be appropriate in this form, no,” your melodious and sweetened giggle sprung gleefully into the air. Luffy huffed out his own laughter, immediately wrapping his arms around your shoulders and drawing you close to him.
“Thank you for saving me, seal,” he cooed in your ear, squeezing you impossibly tight within his arms. After breaking his face away from your shoulder, he continued to hold you within his circular grip as he gazed into your eyes. You danced your gaze between his two caramel orbs, staring up at him through your eyelashes as his warm smile became contagious. 
“I am not a seal, Luffy,” you purred, baring your sharpened canine teeth at him as your smile broadened. 
Luffy couldn’t explain this emotion he felt, but he knew he wanted you to travel with him. Always with him. Never far from sight, not even when in your seal form and dancing in the waves below. He would patiently wait for you to crawl up the hull of the ship and meet your eyes with his; relishing in the ways your smile crept atop your lips as you savoured the mirrored reflection he met you with. 
He wanted to keep you. He needed to keep you. 
And you felt exactly the same. This sailor, this captain among the straw-hat pirates with the dream of becoming king of them. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. And so, you made it apparent. 
Swimming below the depths and finding the most beautiful pearl within the heart of several clams; you presented him with your treasures. You brought him the flesh of your fresh kills, presenting him with the raw, sweeter, meats and watched him enthusiastically dine on the creatures - before becoming violently ill most times.
Sanji managed to sit you down in the kitchen, reprimanding you firstly before directing you to bring them to him for him to make the meat safe for human consumption. You did not take well to this notion, wanting him to see how hard you worked to provide for your beloved captain. 
It was one night where you physically bore yourself before him, your body only clad in sheer linen as you presented your furred flesh to him with a warm flush littering your cheeks. Unaware of its significance, he immediately placed it over his body, removing his straw hat and placing your otherworldly head atop his own. It swelled your heart to witness him take to your gift with such enthusiasm, truly allowing yourself to humble before this pirate and allow him to claim you as his own. 
“Thank you, seal,” he smiled at you, wrapping the skin around himself as one would a plush duvet to shield themselves from the cold, “why are you giving me your skin? I don’t understand.”
You sighed out an exasperated breath, your shoulders slouching and brows upturning in sorrow. He immediately snapped upright and rigid, removing his hands from beneath the flesh and collecting your shoulders beneath his palms. 
“What does this mean, seal?” he asked you, his eyes displaying concern as he held you firm, “You’re not gonna leave, are you? I don’t want you to go. I want you always with me-.”
“-This means I am yours,” you confessed, your eyes refusing to meet his, “And by you accepting it; it means you are mine.” He sucked in a hasty and large breath through his nose, his eyes widening as his lungs swelled. He closed his eyes as he moved his hands over your shoulders. 
“You won’t leave? You won’t go back to your family?” He sought out your eyes with his own, angling his head down to collect your gaze, “You’ll stay with me?” 
“You’re my dream, Luffy,” you smiled, your eyes finally meeting his caramel orbs, “And I want to always be with you.”
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owlight · 2 years ago
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My request: kid, law, marco and robin (only if you are comfortable writting female characters) reacting at gn reader (non devil fruit user) saving them from drowning. hope you have a nice day, you are very talented!
Thanks for requesting 😔🫶
I do females Characters , specially robin cuz she my wife actually 🤭💖 and lmao this reminded me of that one time when I almost drowned ngl
Tags:drowning situation pretty much, Suggestive language with kid cuz he built that way,fluff mostly , ignore mistakes plz
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GN!Reader saving Eustass kid,Trafalgar law,Marco,Nico Robin from drowning
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Eustass Kid
He only drowned because his ass refuse to back from any challenge or fight ,which how he now end up sinking to the water with an angry pout and arms crossed,he is that stubborn and would spend his last moments as a stubborn idiot
someone challenged him to jump to the water and his ass is petty so he did it without any thought to the fact he can't swim
But Gladly! You dive in fast the moment he end up in the water and grab him tightly,good thing water make him weightless or you would have drowned trying to get him out
" and ugh..you are so heavy" you tells him as you pull him back to the safety of the shores ,kid scowl at you " you are just weak pipesqueak" you look at him as you swim ,you are tempted to leave him to drown for a moment,but in the back of your mind you can see killer masked face telling you not to do that because you would regret it later... ,you sighs,the price you pay for love...
He would not be thankful that you saved him, cuz you are his partner and Part of his crew , it's like your official duty to help from drowning cuz killer can't do it anymore :(
He Would suggest you do CPR on his dick instead of his mouth once he gained enough oxygen going through his Brain,you drop him on the sand so hard you hear a loud 'thump!'
You're literally the life guard of the kid pirates , it's almost funny that you have to drag kid out the water everytime his problematic ass fall into water
He get into these situations a lot ,you suggested once that he add floaty on his outfit since he always be falling into water,he threw a wrench at you but missed and it hit killer right at his helmet
He is very grateful for you secretly, he would never let you know but when he see you swimming toward him to save him? You look like an Angel and he is so thankful that you always willing to get into water to save him
He tries to be careful more (doesn't work) but it's the thoughts that count
He say the dumbest most inappropriate CPR jokes every time,you sometimes tempted to throw him back in water but he is already so heavy (nd you love him)
7.4/10 saving experience, should have let him struggle bit more in water ,maybe the water would have washes all the salty attitude off him someday (?)
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Law
This happens rarely really,he is very careful and usually use his devil fruit to avoid falling Into open water like that
But he once was very unlucky and fell off the submarine ship deck after a strong wave hit the ship ,one moment he was standing talking to you,the other moment he in the water sinking down the water ,he tries his best to hold his breath..last thing he see is a blurry figure pulling him up from the deep water
"I got you.. I got you" you says as you pull him out the water to the deck,you start performing CPR till he is coughing,he blink few times as he sees you above him, looking at him with worried eyes that melt to a smile "here you are lovebug ,good to have you awake" you tells him and law cheeks suddenly feel heated,he remove his wet hat off his head and sits down "thank you (y/n)-ya" law says as he looks at you with a little rare smile
"not a problem,that was a strong wave ,we should probably get into the submarine,might be a storm coming" you tells him as you pick up his hat and help him stands up,law can't help but looks at you adoringly...he loves you so much
He so thankful after that,not outloud but by the way he caress your face gently and smiles at you,a real genuine smile,rare sight only meant to his special people and you are so lucky you're one of them
He is more careful than everyone on this list ,so it won't happen often or again,he usually have fast reflexes to not get in that situation,it only happened then cuz he was so smitten by you(so cheesy ngl)
He will be thankful for a very long time,will go bit more easy on you ,no one would notice but you really ,it's wholesome
He give you extra cuddle every night from that day, cuz you his hero now,look at you getting spoiled rotten by him,so lucky
He appreciates you lot,thank you for loving and handling this stoic and secret nerd, he loves you so much just wait till he is no longer a flustered mess when getting affection from you
He really wanted to say that cheesy dumb CPR joke..he want to so bad,but he know you won't ever recover from hearing him says that..so he wait till perfect chance..
10/10 good saving experience
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Marco
One moment he was standing watching the beautiful sea , then suddenly a strong wave hit and he was too slow to use his devil fruit to fly away,he hold his breath as much as he possibly can,he can't help but feel helpless,what an embarrassing way to die...he fought in many battles,yet a strong wave is what took him out...
He feel bit dizzy at the lack of oxygen and he hopes that's the others weren't taken by the wave as well,he would feel bad if they too ended up a victim of this unfortunate event,he start chocking on water that start entering his lungs and it burn like hell,he wonder if you would forgive him for Begin so careless-he did not have the time to think more before he sees you swimming to grab him so tightly, looking very determined,Marco slightly smile as he let himself pass out,he hope that the CPR he taught you would be enough to pull him through this
"......And you are awake finely!" Your voice says as Marco slowly open his eyes and coughs the salty water "ah...sorry,was enjoying my nap" Marco jokes and he can see you shaking your head "not funny..Next time no standing near open water when you know it might be storming" you scold him and he laughs as he sits up "promise you that yoi, don't worry" he ruffles your hair "thank you for saving me" he tells you and you smiles "oh no problem! Just know you own me a dinner for giving me the scare of a lifetime!" You says playfully and Marco can't help but love you a bit more
He is 100% thankful for your help
He doesn't drown or get into water often so you don't have to Worry about this happening again
usually he is the one saving you from almost falling into water so it's a nice change of pace
He would make a CPR joke later on when the situation is long forgotten to make you squirm a bit
He will make sure to get you your favorite snack later as a thanks for saving him because he loves you
11/10 saving experience,very polite birdman
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Robin
How unfortunate,robin thought as the Battle between the strawhats and the Marines got bit too harsh and a Canon hit where she was standing sending her flying into the ocean water,she could say she lived a long life at least and died trying to protect her friends...she wonder if you would keep her collection of books safe after her untimely death-
Then suddenly,She is begin pulled out the water fast by someone and by the way she is held so tightly,she know it's You who had jumped to save her,she is slowly losing consciousness,but she smiles slightly as she trust she is in good hands now
"wake up damn it!-i can't lose you like this" your voice says as you continue preforming CPR on her,she open her eyes and cough the sea water she had swallowed earlier "thanks god robin-i was so worried" you tells her as you embrace her tightly,she can see that You are on the Sunny and it seem like the strawhats had managed to escape the Marines clutch which is good..you look not injured which is good,robin take a deep breath before embracing you back Gently " I apologies, I'm okay , don't worry my dear,thank you for saving me" she mumble softly as she hug you tighter "don't thank me...just..next time be careful okay? I almost had a heart attack seeing you fall into the water'' you scold lightly and that cause Robin to chuckles "I promise to be careful next time" she tells you with a gentle smile across her face
She is very grateful that you've saved her life,you always got her back even when she says she doesn't need help,you still offer to help her and watch her back ,so she is very grateful for that
She would thank you by begin extra affectionate with you for the rest of that day ,which you appreciate it a lot (Sanji is eating his hand as he envy you)
She doesn't usually end up in these situations,she usually able to get herself out of water by using her devil fruit ,so you don't have to worry about her much
Though ever since if the devil fruit strawhats needed to move through water,she would pick you as the person to help her across
She appreciates your help always,and she loves you a bit more ever since you've saved her from drowning
She kiss you later after that lot , thanks kisses she would call them playfully
13/10 saving experience ,she is the best
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(This been in my drafts since months sorry for the lateness bbg)
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