#When I was left here when it freaked out and went out to sea

[babylonbirdmeat]

I will be Rute's hype man the Prince Rama Writeup is gonna fuck so hard

[crguang]

lost virgins with broken wings that will regrow

You’re an ordinary person with a void in your chest. Black Swan means to fill it.

smut, afab!reader, virgin!reader, sorta stalker!black swan (im just going with canon here…) so mention of voyeurism, oral sex on both parts, fingering, overstimulation, switch!r and swan, 9.3k words and 6k of it is just smut……………

A/N: um…… i just think she’s neat.

black swan: they are such a loser, weirdo, freak, social outcast i have GOT to fuck them

It’s under low, pulsing lights and seated between intoxicated bodies, sensual music in your ears and a half-empty drink in hand, that you feel the most alone. The irony burns your throat not unlike the alcohol you’re sluggishly sipping every five minutes as you take in the sea of strangers on the dance floor of the club rhythmically moving with the beat on the speakers.

Beside you at the bar, a couple converses lowly to themselves, staring into each other’s eyes and laughing quietly like there doesn’t exist a world beyond their intimacy. To your right, friends argue over who will be the designated driver tonight and draw from actual straws provided by one of the bartenders. The unlucky one pouts and the rest cheer before enthusiastically ordering colorful cocktails from a pink haired bartender. The bass reverberates through you, inciting you to join the sweaty bodies losing themselves in the music, but the throb of your head is louder. You feel fatigue at the corner of your eyes while you swirl the clear liquid in your glass and watch its hypnotizing movement, briefly lost in it. You tune out the drunk laughter and shameless flirting happening around you and feel the familiar sensation of your heart constricting in your chest. No one is interested in your sulking, people come and go in the seats beside you, oblivious to your inner struggle. When the feeling spreads to your lungs, forcing you to breathe in the smell of alcohol and sweat, you turn on the stool to search for your friend in the crowd. You catch a glimpse of her red hair as she sways against a tall woman with dark coily hair; she seems to be having fun, occasionally giggling when the woman bends to whisper in her ear, so you sigh and rest an arm on the bar. It was an unspoken rule that if you went clubbing together, you would either leave together or make sure the other would be sober enough to walk out the door with a stranger. You’ll give her another half hour, maybe, before ruining her night by telling her you want to go home.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself,” a smooth, sultry voice sounds near you.

You smell her before you see her; strong traces of resins and dried fruit, like incense sticks burning through the air, easily overwhelm the different odors assaulting your nose from the variety of people around. The pleasant fragrance makes you pivot in your seat. A woman sits on the stool to your left and drums her gloved fingers on the counter thoughtfully, keen gaze already on you and a small, easy smile on her lips. They look bare in the low lighting, though you can discern a soft sheen on them that suggests she must have applied lipgloss not too long ago. Her thick, pale hair frames her cheeks and disappears down her back in two wavy parts that would undoubtedly reach the back of her thighs were she to stand upright. The purple veil over her head matches the color of her dress— you think it’s a dress, maybe a tight strapless top?— and the sort of stained glass accessory between her collarbones that connects her top to the lacy piece around her neck. Your first thought is that she looks out of place amongst the flimsy, provocative clothing everyone is flaunting. Your second is that she’s gorgeous, the kind you can’t help but stare at like a fool. Which you are currently doing. Her head tilts in question and you blink, remembering the words she’s spoken to you a moment earlier.

You suddenly feel shy under her gaze as you try to come up with a reply.

“I’m not,” you say, mentally cringing at your lack of tact. Your honesty seems to amuse her though, sunset eyes glimmering with mirth.

“Not your kind of scene, I presume?” She has to lean closer for you to hear each other over the music and you meet her halfway.

You shrug dismissively, not wanting to admit that being surrounded by people only made you feel terribly lonely. It would ruin the conversation, you’re not that socially inept for you to know that. “Not really, no. The drinks are nice, though.”

You can barely hear her hum as she replies, “And yet, here you are. What makes you suffer through such an unpleasant experience?”

You find her way of speaking a little odd. Evidently, she’s not from around here. You turn around to face the dance floor and her eyes follow the direction you point your chin towards.

“I’m here with her,” you gesture to the redhead cheekily grinding against the same woman from before. The sight is a little funny, despite your mood you’re glad that she’s enjoying herself.

“I see. A friend of yours?”

You nod and steal a glance at the woman beside you. Her posture is impeccably straight, chin resting in the palm of her hand while she leans an elbow on the counter, and she looks at you with a sense of familiarity that you can’t reciprocate. You’ve never met her before, you would have remembered. You’re not the type to be embarrassed by every little thing but her attentive stare makes you feel exposed, as if you’re standing in front of her with your flesh turned inside out and she could see the gross parts of you usually hidden from sight. You want to evade her gaze, if only to compose yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to. She pulls you in effortlessly with only a look and you lean towards her when she speaks up again.

“I realize I haven’t asked for your name.”

You tell her your name, having to speak a little louder to be heard over the music. She repeats it, trying the feel of it on her tongue, then her eyelids lower in appreciation, a knowing smile on her face.

You ask for hers in return and she offers a gentle hand after answering you. “I am Black Swan.”

Black Swan. An odd name, like her odd behavior and turns of phrases. She stands out like a sore thumb and doesn’t seem to care enough to try to blend in. Her politeness is endearing, so you grasp her hand to shake it half-jokingly. Her fingertips linger on your skin when you slowly pull away.

“What about you? Are you here alone?” You don’t see anyone else acknowledging her presence around you. Black Swan confirms your suspicions with a nod. “Ah. A party girl, then.”

Her quiet laugh is beautiful, low and velvety. It makes you suppress a smile. The music blasting through the speakers is now much more energetic and worsens your headache.

“What makes you say that?”

You shrug. “You don’t seem from here but you also look totally at ease. I thought maybe you were either the sort to adapt quickly or to love this kind of scene.”

Black Swan hums, a forefinger tracing shapes on the surface of the bar. “I suppose that assumption is not entirely incorrect. I am not a local, no.”

“Where are you from?”

“That is… a complicated question to answer.”

You raise a curious eyebrow and she pushes some hair out of her face with a hand before leaning into you, closer to your ear. You pause as her soothing scent fills your nose and you feel her breath on your cheek, words meant only for you.

“Let’s talk somewhere quieter, if you wish. We can continue our conversation without having to yell to be heard.”

You consider her offer, hesitant. Your stomach tightens at her proximity and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep talking to her. Her subtle charms lure you in and lower your defenses, and that is both refreshing and concerning. Black Swan feels like the kind of person you only meet once, you want to make the most of it. Not to mention that it would be stupid to deny how attractive she is. You look back at your friend in the middle of the dance floor, suddenly envious of how easy it is for her to be comfortable among the crowd. She hasn’t spared you a glance since she was approached by her dancing partner and while that doesn’t really bother you, part of you wants to prove that you’re also able to make immediate connections with strangers, that you’re not an antisocial freak who only keeps to themself.

“Okay,” you accept and look away at the pleased glint that shines in Black Swan’s eyes. “I have to warn my friend, it’ll take a second.”

You stand from the bar stool and clumsily make your way to the middle of the room, narrowly avoiding sweating limbs and their intoxicated owners. You hate the way anxiety buzzes uncomfortably in your guts as you’re closely surrounded by so many people. You make it to where your friend is, breathing heavier from the stress, and tap her shoulder to get her attention. She wears a grin as she sees you and jumps a couple times in excitement, grabbing your shoulders.

“You wanna dance?!”

“I’m leaving with someone,” you say loudly, pointing to the bar. Her eyes squint, looking in the same direction. She stands on her tiptoes to see over the heads of some clubgoers but doesn’t seem to find who you’re referring to. “Are you gonna be okay?”

She looks back at you and smiles with a quick nod. You don’t think she’s drunk, maybe just a little tipsy, because her eyes are clear and she hasn’t pulled you into an intricate dance only she knows the steps to yet.

“Have fun! Don’t worry about me! Go get laid!”

You make a face, embarrassed by the idea. She only laughs loudly and turns back to the woman she’s been with all night. You make your way back to the bar as fast as you can, eager to be away from the crowd and deafening music. Black Swan waits for you near the end of the counter and gently takes your hand in hers when you get close enough. Her gloved fingers delicately curl around your hand, an unexpectedly comforting sensation. She expertly navigates through the sea of bodies, tugging you along with a firm hand until you’re both out of the club and standing under the moonlight.

From outside, the music has dulled to a faint pulsing and you feel like you can finally breathe properly. You briefly close your eyes to take in a slow breath, inhaling the crisp summer breeze and exhaling softly through your nose. Black Swan is still holding your hand as you do, she turns to face you and observes the way your shoulders relax a little more with each calming breath. Your eyes blink open. You feel a bit sheepish under her stare but her small smile assures you that she doesn’t think any ill of you. Your hand slips from her gasp so you can wring them together.

“Do you want to walk as we talk? My place isn’t too far from here,” you realize how that sounds and falter, glancing away. “Not that we have to go.”

“I would enjoy that. Lead the way.”

You scratch your temple awkwardly. There’s a silent pause as you start to walk through the empty streets and closed businesses, almost close enough that your fingers brush with every step. You take your time, your pace measured to bask in the night air and the way the light winds blow Black Swan’s perfume towards your face. The quiet is a reprieve for your throbbing skull, you feel your headache shift to a dull pulse with every passing minute. You look up at the round moon in the sky, then remember your question from earlier, the one she had trouble answering. You start to cross a wooden bridge over a wide canal and clear your throat.

“You didn’t tell me where you were from, earlier,” you say, slowing down slightly to look at the moonlight reflecting off the still water.

“Ah, that’s right.” Black Swan trails her fingers over the railing before coming to a halt. She follows your gaze on the water and leans her forearms on the railing, seemingly lost in thought. You turn the other way, your back against the wooden bars, waiting for her to sift through her thoughts. Finally, her head turns to look at you and she asks, “Are you familiar with Memokeepers?”

You take a second to remember where you’ve heard that word before. “Memokeepers… from the Garden of Recollection, right? Beings who preserve humanity’s memories for the Remembrance.”

“Yes.” She doesn’t add anything else, only rests her cheek in the palm of her hand and gazes at you like she’s able to see past all your barriers and it only fuels her interest in you.

“…Are you saying you’re…?

“I am.”

“Oh,” you ponder the admission for a short moment. That explains why she stands out from the crowd. You think you remember that Memokeepers choose who to be seen by; you must have looked like a crazy person if no one else could see her at the bar. “I don’t think I have any memories worth preserving to attract the attention of a Memokeeper.”

“Mmm… We seek to protect humanity against the irreversibility of time. I, for one, believe there is nothing more human than loneliness, wouldn’t you agree?”

The smile that stretches her lips is a soft one, far gentler than you think you deserve. You look away from her to observe the discoloration of the wood beneath your feet. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised she knows about that considering what she is, but you feel slightly irked at the idea of somebody intruding on your mind without your knowledge or consent. Your thoughts and experiences are yours to keep, no matter what any Aeon may believe.

“I don’t appreciate you looking inside my head.”

Black Swan shakes her head. “I haven’t. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You’re just that astute, huh?”

“Or you don’t hide it as well as you think you do.”

You hum. You can feel the warmth of her stare against your face and when you meet her eyes, you feel small. It’s hard to imagine all the things she has witnessed and lived through, you are nothing compared to her time among mortals. You don’t understand why she’s here with you, who is painfully ordinary and inexperienced in most matters of life.

“I still don’t think I have anything unique to offer to the Remembrance. You’re wasting your time.”

“Collecting every aspect of life includes the mundane, not every memory worth preserving is extraordinary. Besides, I don’t believe you to be ordinary.”

“That’s a bold, but misguided, assumption.”

Black Swan chuckles lowly, straightening up to face you better. She stands slightly shorter than you, even with her heeled boots. A step brings her closer to your body, a hand loosely holding onto the railing.

“I have plenty of those,” she drawls, a little quieter, “and I don’t need to look into your memories to know that they are true.”

“You got all of this from one conversation? I doubt it.”

“Then let me presume something else.”

Your breath hitches as her fingers delicately cup your jaw like it could break under her touch. You’re unable to tear your gaze from hers and you want to shrink faced with the bright sunset colors of her eyes, there’s a knowing sheen in their depths that makes you feel vulnerable in a way you refuse to be with anyone. Her thumb moves across your skin, the gesture almost tender.

“There is an ache in you,” she says, eyelids lowering to watch the movement of her thumb near the corner of your mouth, “a profound desire that creates an immeasurable crater inside of you. You feel that this void makes you fundamentally different from your peers, so you hide behind tall walls and attempt to ignore the cries of your heart.”

Your lips part but the words get stuck in your throat. Black Swan’s smile is without malice and you feel emotion swirl in your gut, tightening the muscles and quickening your breath. A chill passes through you, raising the hair on your arms, and you don’t know if it’s from the temperature or her hold on your jaw. The smooth fabric of her glove rubs against your skin in soothing motions, the smell of incense fills your nose from her proximity, you feel bare in front of her, exposed to her judgment— it’s all too much. You take several steps back to catch your breath and she lets you go somewhat reluctantly, observing your struggle as another breath of wind makes you shiver. The temperature has dropped since you left the nightclub; though you know nights can get chilly, you thought you would be going home in your friend’s car, the same way you got there, and wouldn’t need to bring a jacket.

You rub your arms, hesitantly glancing at Black Swan. “What do you want from me?”

“Let’s get you home, shall we?” She kindly replies instead, extending a hand. “You’re freezing.”

You look at her outstretched palm with slight suspicion. She hasn’t done anything to make you believe that she’s ill-intentioned, quite the opposite, but you’re used to being careful around others. Still, she isn’t wrong. There is a gaping hole in the middle of you and it makes you incapable of letting anyone past the walls you’ve built for yourself, afraid that it would consume whoever ventured too close. You long for something you can’t bear to think about anymore, but Black Swan is… different. Somehow, she sees you for everything you are, and while that thought is uncomfortable at first, it soon develops into something deeper, desperate. You don’t know how it feels to be known. Black Swan materializes behind your defenses and gazes at you with genuine interest. Against your own practiced sense of self-preservation, you let her.

Her hand is warm as you lead the rest of the way to your apartment. A shiver runs through you occasionally and her free hand trails up your arm after each one to warm you. You try to ignore the pulsing of your heartbeat in your ears and the yearning in your gut growing with every casual touch on your skin. You don’t speak much while you walk. It doesn’t take too long to reach your apartment, maybe around twenty minutes or so. You fiddle with the keys when you stand on the doorstep of the building. The door opens with a soft click and you keep it ajar with one hand, turning to face Black Swan.

“Do you want to…”

“Yes.”

She enters the building after you, following you up the stairs to the first floor where you live. Her presence makes you a little anxious since not many people have been inside your living space and you thank the Aeons that you’re a fairly clean person before opening the door and stepping inside. There’s a gust of wind as you walk in and you realize you must have left a window open because the place is colder than usual. You discard your shoes near the entrance to slip into indoor slides, toss your keys into the bowl on the small table and scratch your temple, wondering what you’re meant to do next. You don’t play host often, so for a moment you simply stand in your living room as Black Swan looks around, trailing her fingers on framed pictures and leather chairs. You suddenly feel self-conscious about your taste in interior design but she only looks at you with a smile once she’s seen everything she needs to see.

“Uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I have wine.”

Black Swan shakes her head. “I don’t feel thirst— not that kind anyway. You’re sweet to offer.”

You don’t ask her what she means by that, thinking it might be Memokeeper related.

“You should change into something more comfortable,” she adds. “I can see you shuddering.”

It’s not a bad idea. You nod, adjusting the room’s thermostat to a higher temperature and feeling her eyes on you all the while before disappearing into a hallway. Your bedroom is warmer than the rest of the apartment. You let out a breath as you rummage through your drawers for casual clothes, hesitating between sweat shorts and sweatpants. You’re already warming up a little, so you pick the former. You change into a t-shirt and step in front of the mirror to check that you don’t look as tired as you feel. You rub the fatigue out of your eyes then pinch your skin to make you seem more awake. You fiddle with your hair a little until it looks good enough. Thinking of Black Swan in your living room causes your stomach to flutter uncharacteristically. It’s a different kind of nervousness from the one you’re familiar with, anticipation lingers in your belly and you don’t even know what it’s for.

There’s a soft knock at your door that has you pivoting towards the sound in surprise.

“Come in.”

The hinges creak as it opens and Black Swan slips her head through the opening, eyes briefly running down your figure.

“Is everything alright?” You ask.

“Of course. I wanted to check in on you.”

“Oh.”

Her attention catches you off guard still. She walks further into the room, taking note of the various tapestries and images on your bedroom walls, and you sit on the bed as you watch her. Her hands trail on the desk of your vanity, on your low dresser’s wooden surface, around the bottles of perfume you keep on it. She seems entirely at ease in your room like it was her own, her composure not faltering for a moment. Her eyes stop on a polaroid of you and the same redhead you went out with tonight that is stuck to the full length mirror on the door of your closet. She observes it for a while, a finger tracing the picture’s edges.

“When was this?” She addresses you without turning around, immersed in the sight of you doubled over with laughter while your friend stands to the side with icing all over her face, a pout on her lips. A fingertip touches your frozen form. You think maybe she can sense the emotions through the captured memory.

“About two years ago, when we were still rooming together. We used to prank each other when the other least expected it.”

“You seem… lighter, less burdened than you are now.”

She’s right, once again. It feels as though there’s nothing you can keep hidden from her, like she’s already learned you from the inside. She said she hasn’t been inside your mind but you’re not sure if you’re inclined to believe her words. How else can she accurately perceive who you are? Something takes over the uneasiness you would normally feel at being so acutely exposed to another’s gaze, something you recognize and have desperately been trying to ignore for years. The profound yearning for closeness; for fingertips in your hair, for low confessions into the night, for a synergy that can only exist between two beings completely attuned to each other— it swallows you whole and leaves you writhing in its belly. Your fingers sink into the sheets as they curl to grab a fistful of them. You look away from Black Swan to stare at a point on the other side of the room, willing your treacherous heart to be steady.

You don’t notice Black Swan watching you until she steps into your peripheral vision. She walks around your bed, heels muted on the carpet, and takes a seat beside you. Her fingertips brush your fist as her head tilts, sunset eyes dimmed. You just now realize that she doesn’t have any pupils.

“Poor thing,” her voice lowers to a sultry tone, a hand tenderly resting on your cheek, “you’re scared, aren’t you? These emotions inside of you, itching to leave the confines of your heart…” She watches your lips part when you exhale softly through your mouth. Her fingertips trace your jawline before tilting your chin up. “I can sate this hunger, if you wish.”

You swallow, staring into her appreciative gaze. “Why?”

“Why?” She repeats almost to herself. Her thumb slides up your chin to your bottom lip and follows its curve. “I’m afraid that eludes me. There is something unattainable about you, a part of you that is locked away, perhaps. I feel… inexplicably drawn to it.”

Black Swan slowly leans closer as if gaging your reaction and giving you time to react should you want to push her away. You can almost feel her breath on your lips, then she pauses to look up into your eyes, searching for an answer to an unspoken question. She seems to find what she’s looking for and when you think she’s going to kiss you, a persistent fluttering in your lower belly, her head dips to the side and her lips press against the skin of your neck. You tense as her fingers brush your curled ones on the bed, moving over your knuckles to your wrist, then up your forearm in a deliberately gentle touch. You feel her open mouth trail down your neck. Her hand leaves your face to settle on your bare knee. You let out a shuddering breath, frozen in place.

“Your pulse is racing,” she murmurs into your skin, pressing a firm kiss to your pulse point, “I can feel it.”

“What… are you doing?”

“Enjoying you.”

The hand on your knee slides higher, fingertips brushing the fabric of your shorts on your thigh. The other coaxes your muscles to relax with soft touches up and down your arm. You feel overwhelmed by her closeness and you’re unable to do anything but breathe out at the sensation of her slow kisses up your neck and to your jaw. A shiver runs down your spine and she hums in delight. The tip of her tongue tentatively darts out to lick a stripe up your jawline to your ear, causing you to inhale sharply through your mouth and drawing an amused chuckle out of her.

Black Swan pulls away slightly to take in your facial features as her hands sneak under your shirt to hold onto your waist, squeezing once. Your lashes flutter with every blink, the rise and fall of your chest quickening under her seductive touch.

“How adorable,” she mutters with a lustful sunrise in her eyes. Her hands travel over the expanse of your stomach, one of them separating from the other to trail up your back. She rubs the skin over your ribs. “I’ve barely touched you and here you are… so breathless for me.”

A meek sound escapes you at her forwardness and an appreciative gleam brightens her gaze. With her insisting hands on you and her scent all around, you feel entirely at her mercy. When she leans closer for her teeth to graze your neck, your head tilts to allow her better access. Her thumbs rub circles on your waist, enjoying its pliable curves. Your hand sinks into her long hair, messily tangling around the soft locks, and you bite your bottom lip at the low hum that follows. Black Swan finds a sensitive spot on your neck, sucks on the tender skin and your fingers grip her hair tighter at the pleasant sensation of her mouth on you. You relax against her like butter left in the sun. You can’t help the sharp exhales that leave you and with each one, her fingers dig into your sides almost possessively.

Her tongue swipes over the bruising spot at the base of your neck, soothing the dull pain caused by her teeth and earning a quiet, breathy noise from you. Black Swan smiles into your skin.

“So responsive, aren’t you?” Her voice is a sultry purr. Her touches grow bolder, lifting your shirt to pull it above your head in one smooth motion. She discards it somewhere on the bed and leans to gently bite down on your shoulder.

“Oh!”

Her palms roam over your torso, nails brushing the band of your bra. You fleetingly wish she would take off her long gloves so that you could feel her without any barriers and she seems to be thinking the same; a moment later she takes her hands from you to pull the garment off her forearms. You don’t see where they end up, nor do you care, because the feeling of her soft, unscarred palms sliding over the plane of your stomach steals your breath away. They reach your chest, squeezing your breasts over your bra as her wet kisses travel to your collarbones. Her fingertips slip under your bra, grazing your hardening nipples, and something resembling a quiet whimper escapes you.

“I wonder… How long has it been since you’ve been touched like this, mm?”

“I’ve never…”

Her lips pause near your throat. You feel her breath on your skin with every exhale.

“Is that right?”

You nod hesitantly, apprehending her response.

Black Swan pulls her mouth away from you, fingers expertly unclasping your bra to get it out of the way, and firmly pushes you further into the bed. Her gaze is hungry as she straddles your thighs and looms over you, a palm over your breast.

“No one has ever held you so close… had their hands on you like this?…”

“No.”

A possessive glint flashes in her eyes. She squeezes the flesh of your breast, the friction of your nipple brushing deliciously against her palm has you gasping out at the same time Black Swan eagerly claims your mouth. Her tongue pushes past your lips to swirl around yours and she readily swallows the soft moan you let out. You hold onto her hips while she presses breathy kiss after breathy kiss on your lips. You feel a mix of her saliva and yours at the corner of your mouth and her tongue licks it off before meeting your own once more, leaving you breathless. Two fingers pinch your erect nipple, coaxing more needy sounds from you and a low, appreciative moan on her part.

Her thumbs roll your nipples in tight circles, occasionally twisting this way and that to draw a whimper out of you, and she reluctantly separates from your lips to allow you to catch your breath. Her own chest heaves as she looks down at you, at your bruised lips and hard nipples under the pads of her fingers, arousal pooling in her belly. She is the only one privy to the sharp gasps you make, to your soft moans and quiet whimpers. Black Swan fills the void inside of you with her lustful and unrelenting touches, claiming you with her hot mouth and nimble hands. She leaves an imprint on your body with every kiss to your skin, every graze of her teeth or nails across your chest. You feel your arousal ruin your underwear, clit aching to be touched. You bring Black Swan’s mouth to yours with a hand around her neck, lips locking in desperate, messy kisses. Her hums of pleasure only turn you on more and you have to squeeze your thighs together to try and relieve the pressure between your legs.

A thin string of saliva connects your lips as she pulls away to press the flat of her tongue over your nipple. The tip teases your sensitive bud before she takes it into her mouth and sucks, hard and fast. She fondles the other breast, twisting your nipple between two warm fingers, and you can’t help a choked moan at the feeling. Pleasure courses through you in short, intense jolts down your spine, and your cunt throbs in your panties, begging for her attention.

“B-Black Swan,” you breathe out, biting your lip when she hums in satisfaction around your nipple. Her teeth graze the bud teasingly but she doesn’t bite, instead she opts for long suckles and the occasional flicks of her tongue. “Please…”

Her mouth leaves your chest and stretches into a smug smile, desire apparent in the way she gazes at the faint marks she’s left on your skin.

“What are you pleading for, darling?”

You forego timidity to focus on the burning need in your belly. Your fingers curl around her wrist and guide her hand down your stomach, over the band of your shorts. Her eyes narrow though the smile doesn’t leave her face as she lets you slip her fingers into your shorts. Her middle finger sinks between your outer lips over your panties and feels your slick through the thin fabric. You hold onto her wrist to keep her hand over your covered sex, sighing in relief.

“How rude of me,” she says lightly, finger running up and down your slit, “to neglect you like this. I was caught up in my own desire, it seems.”

Black Swan settles between your thighs. Her lips leisurely trail wet kisses down the curve of your stomach and her pussy flutters in response to the whimper that comes out of your mouth. She’s so wet already and all she’s done is kiss you. Her gaze is intense as she looks up at your brows furrowed in anticipation of her tongue on your cunt. How stunningly helpless you look under her ministrations. So sensitive, so responsive… she wants to ruin you, devour you until your thighs tremble pressed to her ears and your throat is sore from crying out her name. It sounds beautiful in your voice, even more so with unashamed desire lacing your words.

Black Swan discards your shorts without ceremony, tossing them on the floor next to the bed. Her tongue swipes over her lips at the sight of your wet panties. Her fingertips trace the edge of the material, hooking under it to watch the sticky string that connects it to your cunt as she pulls it away from you. Part of her wants to take her time ravishing you, she’s waiting this long, after all, but she also desperately wants to indulge her desires. How can she resist when you’re panting under her this way, a hand around your own breast and gazing down at her figure between your thighs?

Her hands fondle the flesh of your inner thighs, lost in the sight of your glistening cunt. Arousal slides down your pussy in slow drops, the tip of your pretty, aching clit poking out from between your lips. She almost wants to curse.

“You have no idea how long I’ve craved to have you bare before me like this,” she purrs, two fingers spreading your lips to fully appreciate your cunt, “how much I’ve wanted you.”

You exhale shakily, brows twisting for a second. “We just met…”

“Officially, perhaps.” Black Swan presses a kiss on your wet folds, tongue licking a stripe up your slit and collecting your slick. You moan, eyes squeezing shut. The taste of you makes her greedy and she has to contain herself not to lick you silly. “I’ve had my eye on you for quite a while…”

Your brain barely registers the words. Your thighs threaten to close in around her head with every flick of her tongue against your needy cunt. You pinch a nipple between your fingers as Black Swan places wet, open-mouthed kisses on your pussy and you almost forget to reply to her statement.

“What— What do you mean?” You ask breathily, hips jerking forward further into her mouth.

She laughs softly at your confused tone. Her fingers keep your lips spread wide to allow the flat of her tongue to collect more of your arousal. She feels your thighs on her ears and makes no move to stop you from squeezing them together.

“What do you think? Memokeepers are rarely eager to show themselves, and this pull I feel towards you… I had to understand it.”

You don’t know what to say. She’s admitting to stalking you while in between your thighs, tongue greedily swirling around your slick folds. She feels so good that you can’t focus on anything but the way she spreads her saliva on your pussy and swallows your arousal. You vaguely recall that this is the thirst she meant earlier, this bottomless need for more of your taste coating her lips and chin as the tip of her nose bumps against your throbbing clit.

You have trouble forming full sentences in your mind when she sucks your folds into her mouth and you don’t even care about the invasion of your privacy.

“You…” A finger teases your entrance and you whine, momentarily forgetting what you meant to say. “You’ve been following me.”

“Mmm…” Black Swan tentatively pushes the tip of her index finger into your cunt and swallows a moan as it effortlessly sinks inside you. “I needed to know who you were, what makes you tick, your unspoken desires. And after observing you for so long, committing your every heavy sigh to my memory, I could not resist meeting you myself— to touch you with my own hands and hear my name fall from your lips the way curses escape you on the brink of pleasure.”

You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle a moan, the tip of her finger brushing against a sensitive spot inside you. Her pace is steady, careful not to overwhelm you too fast or too soon, and it takes you two full minutes to understand what she’s implying. She takes your clit between her lips and sucks, long and hard.

“F-Fuck,” you whine, hips jerking forward in need. You feel your orgasm build in your lower belly and grip a fistful of the sheets under you, grinding your pussy against Black Swan’s experienced tongue. “You’ve— You’ve watched me… watched me touch myself?”

A throaty chuckle leaves her like she’s amused by how hard you’re trying to follow her sentences. She pulls away from your puffy clit for only a moment, looking up at you with unbridled desire. She drinks in the quiver of your bottom lip and the creases around your eyes, your parted lips and your hand palming the flesh of your breast. You are as beautiful under her as she imagined you to be when she would take a look around your empty bedroom, piecing together the puzzle of you with the help of your possessions.

Black Swan quickens the thrusts inside you, feeling her own cunt clench inside her shorts at the sensation of your warm walls around her digit. “How could I not? The way you fall apart under your own hands… your quiet moans as you play with yourself, oh…”

She moans into your cunt and you feel yourself gush into her mouth at the thought of her gaze on you all this time, watching you pleasure yourself and having to restrain herself from touching you, quietly suffering while she ruins her underwear. You wish you could have seen her and you wonder if she squeezed her thighs together as you played with your clit or sucked in a breath as you thumbed your nipple. She’s usually so composed, to think that your bare body can bring her to the edge of her self-control makes you so wet you’re sure you’re ruining your sheets.

“I can be a very patient person. I’ve had to restrain myself all this time, to be content simply watching you.” Black Swan circles your clit with her thumb, applying pressure on the tip as her slender finger drills into you the same way you do it when you touch yourself. The pleasure is too much and has you moaning into your forearm, uselessly trying to contain the noise due to living in an apartment building. “And… I think I deserve a reward for my patience, don’t you agree, darling?”

There’s a tightness in your stomach begging to snap; the pad of her thumb presses against your clit and the jolts of pleasure that course from your cunt to the rest of your body is heavenly, you’ve never felt more desired than with Black Swan’s uneven breaths fanning over your pussy, tongue darting out to taste you in soft, sweet kitten licks. You can’t control the tremble in your thighs and the stutter of your chest, or the hand that tangles into her pale hair to pull her closer to where you ache for her. Broken, high moans fill the room along with the wet sounds of her digit inside of you and her lips around your clit. You can’t think of anything but the pleasure that suddenly crashes over you and makes you shiver. You come hard around her finger and on her tongue, thighs squeezing against her ears and fingers tightly gripping her hair, and Black Swan laps up your cum with a rumbling hum of satisfaction. She helps you ride your orgasm by slowly massaging your walls, but her mouth doesn’t leave your cunt even as your high subsides. She licks long stripes up your slit, teases the base of your sensitive clit, then attaches her lips to your gushing entrance.

“S-Swan…” you manage to utter, back arching.

Black Swan inhales sharply at the soft sigh of her name. Her hands fondle the flesh of your inner thighs and spread them wide, keeping them pinned to the mattress. Her colorful eyes have dulled, the shine of your cum on her lips alike the lipgloss she’d applied earlier tonight. Her gaze is hungry and smug at having you shake for her, at being the first to make you come, to hear the mewls spilling from your open mouth. The thin layer of sweat on your skin gives it an intoxicating glow and she can’t resist dragging two fingers between your folds to watch your slick envelop her digits.

“You are a vision,” she drawls, unhurriedly rubbing your sensitive cunt. “Beautiful and so, so responsive to my touch…”

The pad of her thumb presses against your twitching clit and your hips jerk as you whimper, helpless under her. Black Swan hums appreciatively and gives you some reprieve, hovering over you to plant a tender kiss to your jaw. Your fingers grip the back of her neck to pull her body closer and the friction of your hard nipples on the fabric of her clothes makes you exhale audibly. She uses sticky fingers to tilt your chin upwards. Your lips part almost instantly to welcome her hot, wet mouth. It’s a softer kiss than the urgent ones from before, her lips slowly slide against yours and you feel her breath in your mouth, her firm tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Your arm sneaks around her waist, pulling her body flush on yours, earning another long hum from her. Her weight on you is a delight as she leads the pace of your mouths and your heart constricts as if squeezed between loving fingers. This is intimacy, you realize; Black Swan’s thigh between your legs and her wet digits under your chin, her tongue past your lips and the warmth of her skin on yours. You feel breathless in an entirely new way.

The ache of your pussy dulls to a soft pulse, your hands run down her sides to squeeze her waist and you’re suddenly hungry for everything she has to offer. You rub circles into her pliable flesh, your touch growing insistent as you keep her pressed against you. Black Swan moans low into your mouth when your palms slide down her body to grasp her ass. Her breathing is a touch heavier against your lips and you prop up the thigh between her legs, drawing an exquisite gasp from her.

“Need you…” you mumble, fingers slipping under top to pull at the mesh of her bodysuit over her back. It slaps her skin when you let go and the needy sound that leaves her almost makes you moan. “Off.”

“Demanding…” Black Swan sits up, lavender hair cascading down her back, and grips the material of her purple top from the bottom to pull it over her head in one smooth movement.

Your pupils dilate considerably at the sight of the intricate lace of her bra. She leans forward to capture your mouth in an eager kiss. You run your hands up her stomach and fondle her heavy breasts between your palms, enjoying their plushness. Your fingers tug on the cup of her bra to free one of them and you whine in the middle of the kiss at the feel of her hard nipple under your thumb. Black Swan leans into your touch with a quiet sigh. You harshly twist her nipple for the surprised moan that escapes her. Pulling her tight bodysuit down her waist only takes a few seconds and your hands greedily take fistfuls of her breasts and squeeze once, then twice, as your mouth chases hers, her tongue wetting your lips in a sloppy, hurried kiss.

Black Swan helps you pull her clothes past her hips and takes the rest off herself, revealing the creamy skin of her plump thighs and the dark lace of her underwear. Slick clings to the fabric in a thick, sticky string when she slides it off her legs to discard it on the floor. Two of your fingers run down her cunt, grazing her engorged clit, and she lets out a breathy moan, resting her forearms on each side of your head to support her body. She’s incredibly wet, so ready for your touch between her folds. Her entrance gushes with another wave of arousal, breath heavy, as the tip of your index teases her hole. Her forehead rests on yours, the tip of your noses brushing. You nuzzle into her at the same moment you push a finger inside her throbbing pussy, tentatively thrusting into her to feel the warmth of her walls before slipping a second digit into her.

Black Swan squeezes her eyes shut with a needy moan against your lips and her cunt clenches tight around your fingers. The slight stretch of her pussy brings her considerable relief; it’s not long before her hips follow the pace of your thrusts inside her. Her breasts move with the rest of her body, baby pink nipples grazing your chest with every roll of her hips. Her breath is hot on your face and she stutters out soft gasps as you quicken your pace, drunk on the feeling of her cunt sucking in your fingers like she never wants to let you go.

“Yes—” she gasps against your mouth, “You feel so good…”

You plunge into her up to the knuckles, determined to have her gush over your hand. Your name is a half moan past her lips and her brows twist in pleasure, the filthy, wet sound of your digits drilling into her fluttering pussy filling your bedroom in an intoxicating melody. A quiver goes through her thighs. Black Swan lifts one hand from the bed to bring it between her legs and swipe her aching clit in tight circles, low oh’s and ah’s spilling from her mouth. Together, you bring her closer to the edge. You masturbate her the way you know how, the way she’s watched you do to yourself so many times, fingers curling inside her and making her see explosions of colors behind her eyelids. She’s tempted to curse, her who never does, and she feels the coil in her belly snap as white hot pleasure washes over her. Her hand stutters on her clit and she comes around your fingers with a sharp moan, squeezing them tight and forcing you to slow down your pace, her limbs trembling over you. Her orgasm is intense, she shivers from head to toe and struggles to keep herself above you, chest leaning into yours.

Black Swan barely has a moment to catch her breath as you slip out of her and rub comforting shapes into her love handles with one hand while bringing her wrist up to your face. You take her fingers into your mouth and her eyes blink open at the sensation of your tongue swirling around her digits, sucking her clean. She gazes down at you, lips parted.

“Swan…” you breathe out around her fingers, the hint of a whimper in your words. “Want you on my face.”

Black Swan applies pressure on your tongue, making you moan. “Is that right?” Her voice is low and throaty, each word carefully enunciated despite her heavy breathing.

You nod eagerly, squeezing the dip of her hip. The thought of her plush thighs around your head, trapping you between their soft flesh as she grinds her cunt on your tongue makes your head spin. You want to bury your nose in her slick folds and have her come in your mouth until she’s too sensitive to handle your ministrations. Black Swan hums, a fondness in her lidded eyes as she takes her fingers out of your mouth. They leave a wet trail on your skin when they cup your cheek.

“So eager to please,” she says softly to herself, thumb tracing the curve of your top lip. “Alright.”

Like she was ever going to say no to the needy look in your gaze; you look up at her with twinkling admiration and she feels herself pulled to you once more.

Black Swan positions herself over your face, thick thighs on each side of your head, and your arms wrap around them to pull her closer. Her pussy glistens, puffy and pink, as she gently tangles her hand in your hair and the sight is breathtaking. The short hairs on her cunt are only slightly darker than the ones on her head, they shine with her slick and entice you further into her folds. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up her slit, delighting in the soft hum that follows the gesture. You’ve never done this before, but you try your best to apply theory to practice, rubbing the flat of your tongue on her cunt and collecting her tangy cum. The grip on your hair pushes you closer to her wet pussy, but she’s careful not to be too harsh.

“Just like that,” her quiet, breathy moans encourage you as you suck her pulsing clit. The drawl of her words sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy. “You’re a quick learner, aren’t you?”

The taste of her fills your mouth, the smell of her arousal takes over your nose as it coats the tip of it, you can feel her all around and it makes you moan into her throbbing cunt. The vibrations reverberate through her pussy, pulling another long moan of your name out of her lips. She’s sensitive from her previous orgasm, already twitching against your tongue, yet her hips rolls into your mouth to chase release a second time. You stare up at her head thrown backwards in blind pleasure, at the sheen of her lips and the movement of her breasts, nipples like pretty pebbles on her chest. Sweat clings to her brows and dampens the bangs framing her cheeks. She’s a painting above you, one that you can’t tear your eyes from.

“You’re so pretty, Swan…” you mutter into her pussy, flicking your tongue on her clit, and she almost melts at the compliment.

Her hips grind into your face as she feels herself getting closer to release, gripping your hair a bit tighter to keep your mouth on her cunt.

“Oh…” Black Swan moans, two fingers closing around her nipple to pinch it softly. Her cum drips down your chin and her eyes shut in bliss.

Her orgasm comes embarrassingly fast— after having to rely for so long solely on the thoughts of you as she touched herself, hearing your muffled sounds into her pussy is enough to bring her to the brink. You’re enthusiastic, licking up her slit and between her folds, sucking her clit hard and fast, and she can’t resist bucking into your mouth as she comes on your tongue. Her body trembles and you welcome the gush of her cum in your mouth with a pleased moan, eagerly lapping up her release. Your hands tighten their hold on her thighs, keeping her flush against you while she rides her high, slightly leaning forward. Her clit twitches, her cunt throbs and she can’t believe how wet she is, cum staining her thighs and the bottom of your face.

You don’t let her pull away, gripping her tighter when her hips jerk away from your mouth, and she gasps out, the feel of your tongue pushing into her entrance quickly overwhelming her.

“Aeons—“ A moan breaks her sentence and the words get stuck in her throat as you wriggle your tongue inside her to swallow more of her cum.

Her thighs shake around your head and her eyes almost roll back into her skull at your desperate need to draw more of her needy sighs and throaty moans. Your open mouth won’t leave her pussy, sucking her lips, nose grazing her sensitive clit. Black Swan makes a pretty mess on your face and her hips greedily grind into you despite the overwhelming sensations, clutching the headboard in a tight grip.

She breathes out your name, eyes shut and brows twisting in pleasure, “Ah… Mmh—!”

You wrap your lips around her clit and suck, making her choke out a strangled moan as the hand in your hair attempts to pull you from her pussy.

“T-Too sensitive…”

Black Swan sees stars behind her eyelids, a broken whine in her throat when you relent slightly and opt to tease the base of her aching clit instead. Her stomach is so tight, orgasm rapidly approaching, and she can’t do anything but rub her cunt desperately onto the flat of your tongue. She needs to come so badly she forgets to take into account the fact that you’re having difficulty breathing with your nose in her pussy and her thighs around your head. There’s a throbbing in your skull not unlike a coming migraine, but you focus on making her feel so good her teeth sink into her bottom lip to muffle a needy cry.

With the tip of your tongue teasing her entrance, Black Swan comes hard and shakes above you as a drawn out moan of your name rips from her throat. You can’t breathe with how much she’s squeezing your head, you have to tap her thigh a couple times to get her attention and she finds the strength to pull herself from you, a tremble in her legs. You’re both panting heavily when she collapses on the bed beside you, catching your breath as the throb of your skull slowly subsides. Black Swan has the back of a hand on her eyes and you can see the quiver that runs through her with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

You bury your face in her chest and she sighs in satisfaction, absentmindedly stroking your hair as you press soft kisses to her breast.

“Was that okay?” You murmur into her skin, rubbing her waist.

Black Swan laughs, disbelief sending ripples through her abdomen. She tilts your head to face her and gazes down at you with a mix of endearment and amusement.

“It was more than okay, trust me.”

Her hand pulls you to gently kiss your lips, tasting herself on your mouth. You’re putty against her and she has no difficulty flipping you over so that your head rests on your pillows. A thumb swipes over your jawline when she separates her lips from yours. You watch the sun rise in her eyes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, mmh?”

[httpwintersoldier]

『jolly sailor bold. || shanks x reader』

[PART 1 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - SHANKS VER.

[BUGGY VER.] [MIHAWK VER.] [SANJI VER.]

pairing: shanks x f!reader words: lenghtyyyyy summary: your curse leads you to a certain red-haired pirate that ends up taking you hostage for the rest of your life. And you very much agree with the decision. angst; smut; fluff.

You had been cursed as a young child. A devil fruit user with the ability of merging whatever they had in sight had taken you from your mother and merged you with a fish. A cruel revenge plan taken out on an innocent child that was made to forever swim the ocean.

That had obviously changed you, in more ways than physical. You couldn't establish contact with other fish, you couldn't make friends with humans (who thought you were a freak and a monster) and there were no other merefolk (not to your knowledge, at least.

The insanity of the lonely life had taken a toll on you. You had begun luring in lonely pirates and seamen, only to tear them apart and eat them before they realized you weren't human and tried to hunt you.

It had been going on for decades, although your body seemed to not age at all, more parts seemed to be growing in. At first it was just the long, scaly tail that had almost of a metallic blue and green shine to it. Then your eyes fully shifted to a charcoal black colour, and your hair followed suit. And, in the past years, your arms grew fins and your fingers grew webbing, both a pale green colour.

Your years of solitude were cut short when you found a certain red haired pirate.

The top of your head was above the water as you watched the ship. The captain had only one arm and three scars on his left eye. He seemed pretty goofy, along with the rest of the crew. You almost felt bad for killing them. Almost.

You dove down into the cold sea, scratching the bottom of the ship with your nails that were borderline claws at that point, until you found a tall, wide rock in the direction the boat was headed.

You sat on the rock, in such a way that it would hide your tail as best as possible, and began singing with your enchanting voice.

"My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold..."

You could hear a ruckus coming from the ship, several feet running on the old, creaking boards of the deck, and soon saw a plethora of men (dinner) standing on the edge, looking at you.

"...there is nothing can console me, but my Jolly Sailor bold..."

You heard more feet scaterring and several voices yelling "Behold Man!" and you smirked devilishly.

As the ship approached, the red haired male you had seen before jumped on the rock you sat on. Big mistake. He knelt down a couple steps away from you.

"Hello little lady, what are you doing here? Are you injured?" The man asked, with a deep voice.

You looked at him through your eyebrows and smirked.

"No, but you're about to be." You replied in a husky voice.

You lunged at the man, taking him under water with you so his mates wouldn't attack you and, as you dragged the male down to drown him, you made the mistake of looking him in the eye. And, as you did so, you felt yourself falter, and your body getting weaker, and weaker. Your eyelids began shutting against their will, and you saw black as your body went limp.

When you woke up, you were startled. Once you found you could, you opened your eyes widely and began struggling, looking for the man you'd caught who should've been floating somewhere next to you, only to find that you were stuck in some sort of wooden tub, your long tail hanging out of it.

You felt as if something was weighing on your chest and you couldn't breathe. Panic. You were panicking. Last time you felt that way you were being thrown in the water by your mother.

"You're awake." A deep voice said beside you.

You carefully looked to the side to find the red haired man you had taken into the sea with you.

"Who... who are you?... Why am I here? How am I here?..." You asked, more to yourself than him, with a dry throat.

You coughed after you did so, and the man handed you water. You looked at the glass carefully, not trusting it. The red haired male sighed and rolled his eyes as he took the cup and sipped on it, to show it wasn't poisoned, before handing back to you.

"I'm Shanks. I'm the Captain of the ship. The "why" would be because you tried to kill me. As for the how... let's just say I'm good at persuading people."

You laughed, after drinking the whole cup in one go.

"Sometimes girls get hungry..." You said, biting your lip.

Shanks simply scoffed.

"You are brave, for someone who's in your position to be talking that way..."

"What can I say..." You shrugged.

There was silence, as Shanks admired your body.

"What are you anyway?..." He asked, leaning closer on the tub.

The way he came closer to you showed how unafraid he was of you, of your... exquisite body, so to speak. That was new, you quite enjoyed it, had he not taken you captive.

"Call it a freak of nature, if you will." You replied, as you shrugged

After the man pressed you once more about your origins and anatomy, you decided to answer truthfully.

"I was cursed. Well, that's the cool way of putting it... Some weird Devil Fruit user has the ability to merge stuff together, be it dead, inanimate or alive. I was the result of an affair, from what I could gather in the fight between this woman and my mom. The wife of the man my mom had an affair with found her and decided to punish her by merging me with a fish I guess... In the beginning it was just small changes, some gills and scales, had to spend a lot of time in the bathub but nothing too hard, so my mom attempted to raise me like this. She gave up when the tail began to develop and threw me in the ocean..."

Shanks' eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were set on your fish-like characteristics as he heard your explanation.

"And you resorted to eating humans?..."

You shrugged once more. It was your go-to answer, it seemed. No better way to show indifference.

"It's either humans or fish. Both of them are part of me, but only one of them cursed me, then cast me away and treated me as a monster."

"But not all humans are to blame for your... curse." The man tried to reason.

"I was also not to blame for my mother's mistakes. Yet here we are." You replied quickly, looking him in the eye with your orbs, devoid of any colour.

Shanks sighed and slapped his thighs as he stood up.

"Hey! Wait!" You semi-yelled, making Shanks stop and turn around "What's to happen to me? What will you do with me?"

"Seems like there is only one thing to do..." He said, sighing and placing his hand on his hip "We'll find the Devil Fruit user and get them to undo this."

Your eyes shined for a moment and your face lit up, before reminding yourself that the race you were talking to was untrustworthy, and the cold expression that was so familiar to you returned to your faced.

"Why. What's in it for you? Aren't you going to sell me to some freak show? Or keep me as a pet?"

Shanks sighed again.

"The only freak show master I know doesn't have me in great consideration, and you talk too much to be a pet and are not that useful." Ouch. "It seems like we'd be saving a lot of lives by helping you. Including your own."

He didn't give you time to reply, as the Captain left the room and closed the door.

You huffed, and relaxed in the tub, realizing that you had been tense this whole time. There was nothing you could do but trust these men now... It was nearly impossible for you to hop out of the tub and drag yourself out on the deck and into the ocean without being heard or seen flopping around, and the porthole next to you was far too small for you to fit through it...

As the sun set and darkness enveloped the room, the red haired man stepped in with a light being held by his mouth and a tray on his hand.

"Do you usually carry stuff with you mouth?" You joke with a teasing smirk.

The man set down the light and the tray, and pushed back the cape to reveal he had only one arm.

You felt embarrassed for a second, but wouldn't let it show (obviously).

"Seems like someone got to you before me." You joked with a simpathetic smile.

The man let out a belly laugh and picked up the tray again, handing it to you.

"You're a cheeky one for sure..." The captain commented and sat on a chair in the corner of the room.

You stared at the tray, it was some sort of meat you obviously didn't recognize and bread.

"This is what?" You asked, a little disgusted, pointing at the sead animal in front of you.

"It's chicken legs. You know, food from an animal that isn't either part of you." The man joked with a smile, pointing between your human torso and fish tail, and you laughed a little.

You picked it up carefully and examined it. You gave up the poison suspicions, if he wanted to kill you he would've done so. You took a small bite, waiting for a nasty taste to hit your tongue, but surprisingly you found it delicious. You widened your eyes and looked at him in shock, before devouring the meal in front of you.

"I take it you enjoyed the food?" Shanks asks with a chuckle, as he raised his eyebrows.

"It was edible." You replied jokingly, licking your fingers.

After taking the tray, the man remained in the room, surprisingly.

"You're staying?" You asked, cocking your head and blinking rapidly, as your eyes were used to a lot more moisture.

"Well, only one person keeps guard at night and I don't quite trust you to not go out there and kill him. I think I'm the only one that can take care of you." He said and winked.

You felt hot. Why did you feel hot? The bath water was cold. Just as you thought about his wink, you shivered.

Shanks raised an eyebrow and looked at the water.

"Is it too cold?"

Before you could reply, he stood up and dipped his hand in the water. Having his hand so close to you... So close to touching your body... It sent a strange feeling through your body, and you didn't know how to react.

"It's... fine. We don't have heaters in the ocean."

Shanks knelt down next to the tub so he could be face-to-face with you.

"Yeah, but you also don't have still water. That," he said, pointing at the water you sat in "will get pretty disgusting if it's not changed, unlike the ocean."

You looked at the water and it was safe to say the man was right. The sediments entagled in your gills and scales from sleeping on the sand, as well as some algae that had gotten stuck to you began staining the water as it cleaned you.

Shanks, realizing you had silently agreed with him, laid a towel on the ground and picked you up over his shoulder. You shrieked and grabbed onto his shirt, not being used to being carried (or manhandled). The captain slowly placed you on the towel, and you watched as he cleaned the tub and replaced the dirty water.

"Why are you going through all of this trouble? It doesn't make sense. What's in it for you?" You asked, seemingly getting defensive all of the sudden.

Shanks scoffed and looked over his shoulder as he worked.

"You have to stop thinking there's something in it for me, sweetheart. I just think you haven't been given a fair chance. Before labeling you as anything, I want to make sure you have a fair chance to become the person you think you should be."

You were out of words. Apologies and "thank you's" were not your strong suit, so you kept quiet. The captain took the lack of response as acceptance, and finished the job.

You could very easily flop back into the tub - you had been climbing up rocks and jumping from them all your life, after all - but you enjoyed it when Shanks picked you up and laid you down in such a careful way, so you didn't protest.

You spent the next three months of the search for the Devil Fruit user listening intently to Shanks' pirate stories and (unconsciously) fawning over him every night when he came to watch over you.

After the first month he trusted you to stay alone, but he woudn't leave you. He'd rather have your company. The Captain loved the way your big eyes shined as you looked at him, paying attention to every of his words.

Both your feelings were very obvious, and had anyone been in the room with the two of you they would've called you out on it. But that was the best part of your "sessions": it felt like a secret. It felt so intimate, it was honestly ironic how either of you failed to realize how infatuated you were with each other.

"Y/N!" The Captain said happily as he walked in the room and knelt down next to the tub.

You crossed your arms on the edge of the tub and laid your head on them.

"Yes, Captain?"

You had began calling him Captain as a joke, but he not-so-secretly loved it, and it showed: he couldn't keep the big, stupid smile off of his face whenever he heard you call him Captain.

"We found her!" The man said, holding your face with his hand "We found the devil fruit user!"

A wave of emotions washed over you. First you were happy, ecstatic even. But then came the panic, fear, uncertainty... And it showed.

"Y/N, what's wrong? You look... disappointed?" Shanks asked, not quite sure how to decipher your look.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn't know what to say or how to express what you were feeling - it was all brand new. Thankfully, Shanks gave you time.

"I just..." you started "I don't know. What will happen next? I don't know how to live among people, will I even like it? Will I even be able to walk? Will I miss the sea?" Tears streamed down your face and you were in a panicked state as you thought of all things that could go wrong.

Shanks hugged you and caressed your semi-wet hair.

"Sweetheart," you learned to love that nickname, it always put you at ease "I can't force you to go back to who you were, but I think you'd be infinitely happier on land, with people to talk to, with people to have fun with, with... someone to love." Shanks' voice brokw a little, as he thought of you living happily side by side with someone that wasn't him, but he cleared his throat and carried on "You can always choose to swim in the sea, and you can choose to walk on land and live as you were made to. I know it must be scary, all change is scary, but you won't have to be alone anymore"

By the time he finished, your heart was beating fast for different reasons and your breathing had calmed down.

When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were mere centimiters apart. You could both feel the tension and the attraction, but none of you dared move. You were almost sure you were both feeling the same.

"What do you say, Y/N?" He whispered.

You smiled widely and nodded.

"Let's do it."

The next few days of sailing were intense and overcome with emotion, but it wasn't long after your conversation with Shanks that the red-haired man came in with a big smile. He didn't even bother grabbing a towel - he was far too excited for that. The man picked you up, not caring that he got drenched in tub water, and carried you out to the deck.

The sun hurt your eyes and it took you a while to get accostumed, but the strangest part was Shanks.

"Do it." He said, turned to someone you could not see since you were still flung over his shoulder.

His voice was cold, demanding and soulless. You had never heard it this way, and you had a hard time assimilating that it was, in fact, the Shanks that you knew (and loved).

There was a long silence, it seemed like no one dared move, speak or breathe.

Suddenly, a woman cleared her throat, and you felt as if your body was being ripped apart. You gripped Shanks' back and tried not to make noise, but you couldn't help the toe-curling scream that left your mouth.

You could feel your legs slowly separating, and after a few excruciating minutes your body fell to the ground weakly.

"Y/N! Y/N?" Shanks called, hovering over you and cupping your cheek.

You opened my eyes and looked down at your legs, arms and hands.

"Legs!" You yelled happily and looked up at Shanks "Shanks I have legs!"

Shanks wrapped his arm around your waist and spun you around.

"Shit! It worked!" He said, looking at your face, still holding you up by the waist, as he was afraid you wouldn't be able to stand on your legs just yet.

As he looked down, Shanks realized you were (obviously) naked, and that your body was glued to his. The Captain blushed and fought off any... improper thoughts - he surely wished he had brought the towel.

The man cleared his throat and wrapped his cape around you as he carried you inside and ordered his crew to escort the Devil Fruit user back to the port.

Shanks sat you on a chair on his room and looked through his drawers for some clean clothes,

"Uh here- this ought to fit you."

His cheeks were red (as were yours) and he looked away as you put on his large shirt and a pair of loose pants.

"Can you walk?" The Captain asked.

You gripped the sides of the chair nervously.

"I don't... I don't know."

Shanks silently held out his hand, inviting you to try. You took it and slowly stood up. Your legs were a little wobbly and your walk was a little unsure and weak, but you sure could still do it. Muscle memory from before-fish-time, you assumed.

"I did it!" You said, wrapping your arms around him.

"You did it!" He cheered as well, wrapping his arm around your waist.

When you pulled away from the hug, your faces were close, and after all those years of luring men, you had never wanted to kiss one until Shanks came along.

"Now you can go resume your life back in your hometown!" The man said with a smile.

You stumbled away from him, suddenly finding the strenght to stand on your own.

"What?" You asked, incredulous.

"You can... go! You can live your life again, Y/N." He repeated, not understanding your reaction.

You scoffed, hurt and disappointed. You'd think that after spending every single night together for three months the reaction would be different. You thought Shanks felt the same about you, you thought he'd pick you up, spin you around, kiss you and ask you to stay on the ship, but no. The second you took a couple steps, he was ready to send you on your way.

"Yeah. That's probably best if I go. I'll leave right away."

You turned around, exited the room and slammed the door shut, leaving a confused Shanks behind. You wobbled away as fast as you could, using the walls of the ship as help, persistently fighting off the tears.

"Y/N! Wait! You're leaving now?" He asked, chasing after you.

"Well you want me gone! Might as well start now!" You said while walking.

Shanks grabbed your wrist and you tried to free yourself from it, but his grasp was firm.

"Y/N can we- Y/N can you stop struggling please? Y/N-" When the Captain got tired of asking, he picked you up and brought you to his room, throwing you on the bed as he closed the door with his foot.

"What is wrong with you!?" He roared, looking down at you with a look you couldn't decipher.

You stood up weakly.

"What's wrong with me!? What's wrong with you!" You countered, looking at him with the same mix of emotions running through you.

"Me!? I got you your body back! I freed you! And all I get is a cold shoulder and not even a goodbye? Maybe you are a cold hearted monster after all!"

Silence.

Silence as those words hit you like a brick and Shanks realized what had left his mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably for the first time in over a decade.

"Y/N-"

He was cut off by you trying to reach the door without another word. The Captain stood between you and the door.

"Y/N please I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"Let me leave! Let me leave! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, banging on his chest with closed fists out of frustration.

"Please Y/N, I'm begging you! I'm- I'm sorry! I was hurt!"

"Oh you were hurt? That's rich!" You said, laughing cynically.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, more calmly.

You stumbled backwards and let yourself fall on the bed, sitting down since you weren't used to standing for long.

"You spent three months with me, every night. You were the only person I ever shared anything with. And then the first chance you get... You want me to leave? To send me away? I-Is that all I am? A project?"

Shanks knelt in front of you, taking your face in his hand like he had done many times before, but this time, it held a completely different meaning.

"Y/N... Is that what you think? You genuinely think I want you to go?" His thumb wiped your tears as he looked into your glossy eyes.

"You... don't? Then why did you say that?..."

Shanks chuckled and looked away for a second before looking back at you.

"Y/N, I want you to stay by my side every day until I die of some stupid reason." You and him cracked a smile at the small joke "I obviously didn't want you to leave, never did. I dreaded this day because I thought you'd want to leave... to be free to explore, find yourself and finally get out of this ship."

You cupped his face gently and felt him lean into your touch.

"Shanks... this is my home. You're my home. Plus, what better placed to explore in than a fucking ship!" I said with a smile and laughed.

Shanks retributed the smile, twice as big, and laughed as well.

"Hey little lady! Language!" He jokingly told you off.

You stared into each other's eyes as your heads tilted ever so slightly. That was the moment. It felt right. It felt perfect.

Your lips touched slightly, and you pulled away just as quickly, trying to process the moment. But when you realized how much you wanted it, how much you needed it, you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him closer, smashing your lips together. The kiss was rough and passionate, full of emotion.

"Princess I planned on taking it slow, but if you keep this up I won't be able to hold back much longer." Shanks whispered as he left sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Don't hold back. I want to feel everything I've been missing out on." You moaned.

"Well in that case," Shanks paused, as he manhandled you to lay on the bed and spread your legs so he could hover over you "let's give the crew something to complain about, shall we?"

The Captain didn't wait for your response, he simply captured your lips in a rough kiss once more and yanked down the pants you were wearing. His fingers slowly travelled down your body and parted your folds. You watched as he then took them up to his mouth and licked them clean.

"Who knew you'd still be this wet outside of the water?"

You blushed and rolled your eyes with a smile at the cheeky jokes you'd come to love.

Shanks removed his cape and shirt, and then kissed down your body, slightly pushing up the shirt you wore to reach your stomach. He pondered on removing the shirt, but decided against it - the Captain thought you'd look good being fucked in his shirt.

He toyed around your pussy, biting and kissing several spots on your inner thighs until you were moaning desperately.

"Please touch me there Shanks..." You begged.

That was his cue to begin eating you out like a hungry man. You didn't even know how to describe the feeling, but that didn't stop you from trying.

"F-fuck! That's so good Shanks- so good!" You moaned, as one of your hands gripped his sheets and the other tugged on his hair.

He moaned at the feeling of his hair being pulled and you swore the vibrations made it even better.

Shanks slapped your inner thigh and gripped it over and over, and you could feel something in the pit of your stomach forming.

"Oh shit-" You moaned.

Your breathing accelerated and your eyes closed as your back arched, preparing for whatever was coming.

When suddenly Shanks' mouth pulled away.

"What did you do that for?" You whined, looking at him through your lashes.

Shanks hovered over you and kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you both moaned into each other's mouths.

"If you're going to cum for the first time sweetheart, you're doing it on my cock."

His hand expertly pulled his cock out, and you whimper-gasped when you felt it hit your pussy.

You looked down at it and widened your eyes.

Shanks laughed and caressed your cheek.

"You okay there, princess?" The Captain asked as he ran the tip of his cock along your folds, making you hiss.

"I'm- I have mixed feelings. Is all that going in me? And it feels good?"

Shanks chuckled and pecked your lips.

"I'll go slow, doll. If it doesn't feel good, you tell me, okay?"

You nodded, giving him the greenlight.

Shanks pushed into you, very slowly, carefully watching your face through the whole thing, until he bottomed out inside you.

"How you doing, dollface?" The man asked.

He wanted nothing more than to ram into you until the only word you could say was his name, but the man was patient.

"It feels... odd. But good. K-keep going." You said, suddenly feeling hot and shy.

Shanks slowly moved in and out of you, finding a merciful pace to fuck you in. His hand found your ass, that he gripped as tightly as he could without hurting you, taking out some of the frustration of not being able to fuck you as he wanted.

It became especially hard when you began tightening around his cock and moaning his name.

"Go faster, please-"

Those words were the only thing he wanted to hear. Shanks slapped the aprt of your ass he could reach from that position and steadily picked up the pace in which he fucked you.

"S-shit this is so fucking good Shanks!"

Your praises and moans were the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and the man wanted to hold on as long as he could, to listen to them as long as possible.

The way his shirt looked on you while he fucked you was an even bigger ego-boost for him. You looked his, you looked like you belonged to him. Wearing his shirt, on his bed, with his cock buried deep in you... Fuck, it was a sight to see.

He bent over as he fucked you, his hand grabbing the base of your neck as his lips left sloppy kisses and small bites all over it.

"I wanna fuck you dumb. I wanna fuck your pretty little pussy so hard Y/N."

You didn't know how much you enjoyed dirty talking until you heard him whisper those words to you, and the most sinful moan left your mouth.

"Do it! Shit- fuck!" You cursed as he fucked you at an impossible pace.

Skin slapping and squelching sounds filled the room along with your moans and groans, and the familiar feeling at the pit of your stomach returned. You had no way of knowing you were about to cum so you couldn't warn your partner, but Shanks knew. From the way your back arched once more, and your hand gripped the wrist that was gripping your thigh, he knew you were close.

Shanks tried to hold off his orgasm as long as possible, and it was painful but oh so worth it. Your pleasure-filled face, mouth agape followed by the incessant calls for his name in the form of moans... it was art.

He came right after, burying his cock deep in you, making sure it all stayed in. His mark.

The Captain pulled out of you with a groan and plopped next to you. You waited no time to roll over and lay your head on his chest, swinging your leg over one of his as he wrapped his arm around you, his hand laying on your butt softly.

"I don't think I'll be able to walk for a different reason now..." You said, smiling up at him.

"Hey you're getting good at making corny jokes like me!"

You laughed together, then a deep silence ensued.

"Shanks... did you mean that?"

He cocked his head slightly.

"About what? Wanting to fuck you dumb? Oh very much!"

You laughed and slapped his chest.

"No! About... really wanting me here... by your side."

Shanks smiled as he looked at you fondly and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"If you promise to tolerate me, I'd like to have you by my side until the end of my days."

[writeforfandoms]

Born for Greatness bonus 4

Find the series masterlist

FINALLY putting out the last bonus chapter for this series! This can be canon or can be discarded as you like, as it doesn't effect the main storyline at all.

Warnings: Pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy, probably rose-colored tbh, established relationship, established pack, shifter behavior, swearing, Logan has to learn a whole new interrogation method.

Word count: 1.8k

Soap and Gaz both murmured sleepily when you tried to nudge them off, nestling closer in retaliation. You looked to John for help, but he just shrugged. 

“Fucking burrs, I warned you,” he murmured, leaning over where you were trapped on the LoveSac to kiss your forehead. He nosed gently at your temple, breathing in the scent of you. “They’ll need to get up soon anyway.”

You sighed but gave in, a little reluctantly. “Five minutes, then I’m kicking them off.”

“Good luck.” John smirked at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before he left to go do his own preparations. Which is really what you should be pushing these two to do, but they clearly didn’t want to.

John hadn’t been sure how long they’d be gone this time. More than a week, he’d said with an apologetic little grimace, but he didn’t know more than that. 

Which was fine. You’d fly out to Logan, take care of some stuff there, maybe pick up a few etiquette classes or do some community work. It wasn’t like you were some wilting wife staring mournfully out to sea waiting on her husband. 

You snorted softly at the mental image. Yeah, no thanks. Not for you. 

You left shortly after they did, humming to yourself as you went through security and then waited for the plane. The trip was long, but worth it. 

And this time, you were giving Logan a taste of his own medicine and showing up unannounced. So you got a cab out to his property. 

Which was, of course, cold. Because the weirdo liked Canada. 

You fished out your house key and opened the door. “Logan?” 

There was a thump and a swear from further in the house. You grinned and headed that way. 

“You know, when I said your stuff wouldn’t be any trouble, I might have misjudged.” Logan glowered at you from where he stood in the middle of a storage room, which was currently stuffed with your stuff from your apartment. 

“I did tell you I didn’t need the furniture,” you pointed out, leaning in the doorframe. 

“The bookcases are nice, don’t wanna get rid of those.” Logan narrowed his eyes at you, head tipping as he approached. You paused, watching him, because this was not normal. He sniffed you, leaning in closer, until he made a face and took a step back. “Really, kid?”

“What?” You resisted the urge to sniff your own arm, because you knew it wouldn’t work. 

He blinked. Twice. “Oh fuck.” He rubbed one hand down his face, gaze flitting around the room, before he deflated a little and sighed. “Okay. Kitchen. Go.” 

Confused, you went, because this? You needed to know what this was about. 

Logan made coffee (he didn’t do tea) and growled at you every time you so much as tried to get up from your chair. So you just sat, utterly perplexed, and watched. 

Finally, he set a coffee in front of you, took a deep breath, and blurted out, “You’re pregnant, kid.” 

You blinked, suddenly quite aware of why he’d had you sit down. You grabbed the table to make sure you weren’t swaying. “I’m… what?” 

“I can tell.” He tapped his nose meaningfully. “I’ll drive into town and get some things for you.” 

“I’ll go, might as well,” you said, more out of habit than actual desire. 

And three tests later (you still had another pack to take in a few days), you were once again sitting at the kitchen table, more or less in shock. 

“I take it this wasn’t planned.” Logan nudged your foot with his, frowning a little. 

“Nope. Hadn’t even talked about it.” You breathed in slowly, trying not to freak out. 

“It’ll be fine.” Logan reached over to take one of your hands. “And if it’s not you’ll come here.”

You huffed. “You have a way of making things seem much more simple than they actually are,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t help but smile. 

“All depends how you look at it.” Logan shrugged. “You’ll be fine, one way or the other. You’ve got time and space here to think about what you wanna do. If you wanna keep the cub or not.” 

You put your head down on the table and whimpered. 

True to his word, though, Logan gave you all the time and space you wanted, letting you figure shit out. He offered opinions (sometimes wanted, sometimes not). And when you got too caught up in your own head, he bullied you onto the couch, turned on a movie, and shifted and laid across your lap. 

It was oddly effective. 

You had an entire month to sort yourself out. 

And then John texted, saying they were on their way back to base. 

Logan didn’t quite sit on you but he threatened to, glowering at you until you cooperated and then booking tickets for the two of you back to England. 

(“You can’t travel alone.”

“I’m pregnant, not dying!”

“Don’t care, you’re not traveling alone.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”) 

Logan stayed with you the entire time, calm as always. His calm seemed to directly increase in relation to your anxiety. Which was… something to think about later. 

For now you were just grateful he wasn’t biting your head off. 

John had volunteered to pick you up, so of course he was waiting for you, car idling, leaning back against the hood as he patiently scanned the crowds for you. 

You didn’t actually track the steps you took to get to John. You were in front of Logan one minute, and in John’s arms the next. He rumbled a soft laugh as he squeezed you gently. 

“Missed me, hm?” he teased, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m pregnant.” You didn’t think. Just blurted the words out. 

“...come again?” 

You pulled back, looking up at him. “I’m pregnant.” 

John was very, very still for the longest half-dozen heartbeats of your life. He blinked. His mouth opened. Then closed. You swallowed hard, sudden nerves clenching around your heart. 

And then he was hugging you even tighter, face hidden against the top of your head, murmuring too quietly for you to understand. 

When he pulled back, his eyes were damp, and he was grinning wider than you’d ever seen. “That must be why…” He trailed off, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing deep again. 

“Alright, you two,” Logan said loudly, blatantly interrupting you. “Figure it out later.” 

You huffed and shot him a nasty look before giving John a quick kiss. “We should head back,” you agreed, a little reluctantly. 

Of course then John took your luggage and fussed over your seatbelt and wouldn’t stop glancing at you the entire drive back. Logan, the absolute bastard, was laughing to himself in the back seat. 

“You go say hi to the boys,” you told Logan sternly once John had parked. “You and I need to actually discuss this, I guess.” You looked at John. 

“Alright.” He didn’t even sound freaked out, much more under control again. 

But he didn’t take you back to his office. He took you to his room. 

There was very little talking involved in the next couple hours. 

You did insist on a shower before going to see the rest of the pack. 

You did not tell the rest of the pack about the baby just yet. You wanted to do something a little more nice for them than just blurting it out. (You’d feel bad about telling John that way but he was too smug already.) 

So you enlisted Logan’s help, getting him to go take your entire pack on a run. You took the time to decorate the pack room with some balloons you’d run off base for, a cake, and a little banner you hung off the table. You had enough time to question all your life choices before they came back. 

Logan looked in first, grinned, and moved to a prime spot to get pictures. John was next, huffing softly but his gaze soft as he looked at you.

The other three started to come in, and stopped. Well, to be more accurate, Gaz stopped short, Ghost stopped just shy of hitting him, and Soap walked right into Ghost’s back and swore before peeking between the two. 

Silence. Complete silence. It lasted just long enough for you to wonder if you’d made a mistake, if they weren’t okay with this, if this was a bad thing after all–

Gaz whooped and grabbed you, picking you up off your feet in a spinning hug. You squeaked, more surprised than anything. 

He didn’t even set you down. Just handed you straight to Soap, who also spun you around while holding you tight. Then he deposited you in front of Ghost. 

Ghost blinked down at you before slowly, carefully initiating a hug. You melted. He never initiated.

“So, I take it you guys are fine with this?” you asked, only a little choked up, still leaning into Ghost. 

“To put it mildly,” Gaz agreed, grin clear in his voice. He plastered himself to your back, joining in the hug shamelessly and ignoring Ghost's little annoyed growl. And then Soap jumped in too and you were laughing as the pile of you tipped precariously. 

"Alright, you muppets," John grumbled, fond amusement clear in his voice. "That's enough." It didn't take long before he was gently tugging you away from the boys. 

It wasn’t all sunshine and daisies, and you were no saint. But the pack made it work. 

Until the day you were finally cradling a little girl against you. So far Logan was keeping the rest of the pack at bay, so you and John had half a chance to meet your baby in peace. You’d never thought you’d see John cry, but he’d surprised you. 

Now, though, you three had a little peace. Your little girl slept against your chest, John hovering over the both of you. 

“She’s perfect, love,” John murmured, tipping his head to rest his cheek against your temple. 

“She is.” You smiled, exhausted, leaning further back into the bed. “Think she’ll be a bear like you?” 

“Probably.” John huffed softly. “Too soon to tell. We’ll find out soon enough.” He touched the back of one tiny hand with one finger, impossibly gentle. 

“Ready for all the extra mischief?” You couldn’t help but smile, already thinking of all the trouble she’d get into with Gaz and Soap. 

“Be good practice for them,” John rumbled, amused. “It’ll be fine, love.”

“I know.” You yawned, struggling to keep your eyes open now. “Trust you.” 

“Go to sleep, love. I’ll keep watch.” 

You managed to open one eye to shoot him an amused look. “The pack is literally outside ready to take on anything,” you pointed out. “You don’t need to keep watch.”

“Won’t stop me from doing it anyway.” John rumbled soothingly, pressing closer to you both. 

“Ridiculous man.” But you smiled as you closed your eyes again, heart full to overflowing. The security of having the pack outside and your mate next to you made it easy to drift to sleep.

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

Can you do something with Wednesday and reader where readers love language is touch but Wednesday doesn’t really enjoy it, and so one day like she tells wends this and then Wednesday starts to be more physical with her because she knows it’s what reader likes? (Sorry if that didn’t make too much sense, love your works tho!)

touch

masterlist | request info

any ‘wednesday’ fic i do will be set at ‘nevermore university’ so the minimum age of any character will be 18

wednesday addams x reader

warnings: slight angst, brief mentions of bad days and being overwhelmed etc, mentions of kissing but pretty much just fluff

hope this is okay anon :)

Wednesday told you she had ‘what you would label as romantic feelings’ for you around a month ago, you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t surprised you but you were more than thrilled. You too had ‘the nauseating feelings’ swarming in your stomach when you spend time together and you find it amusing how she grumbles about being just like her parents. 

You’ve never been under the illusion that Wednesday is a physically affectionate person, before last month you’d not received more than a small touch here and there. She’d let you lean your tired head on her shoulder a few times without shrugging it away like you’d seen her do to people before but other than that you'd not been shown much. 

Over the past few weeks she’s planted a few kisses to your lips, she lets you cuddle up closely to her and even lets your legs rest in her lap when you're both reading. You knew going into the relationship that you'd go at her pace, waiting for her to offer a kiss or a hug. And you were perfectly fine with that. 

You wanted nothing more than for her to be comfortable but it didn’t take away that feeling of coldness where you craved warmth. When you just needed a hug at the end of a bad day or you just wanted to feel close to somebody when the rest of the world is too much. 

Her wit and words of comfort with that extra special Wednesday Addams touch were perfect but you’d always be left yearning for that tiny bit more. 

There was a day you went out into town, a short trip out alone for some down time with a cup of coffee at the Weathervane and a stroll through crisp with autumn streets. 

But that blazer you were wearing stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of normies. You noticed the side glances and the way young children were guided away from you by their parents as they passed. You heard the whispers and the not quite as quiet murmurs of you being a ‘freak’ - an ‘outcast’. 

Maybe you should be used to it by now but it still hurt, your throat felt tight and you wanted nothing more than to go back home. So you did. 

Your eyes were glazed over with tears when you reached their door and Enid pulled you into a tight hug right away, it was enough to help the tension roll away. She didn’t make you talk about it, just letting you sit beside her with an arm slung over your shoulder. Wednesday checked in with glances in your direction, a few small smiles here and there and mutterings of how she’d ‘kill them mercilessly until they wish they’d never been born’. 

Her comforting words made you smile. 

When Enid left a couple of hours later, your girlfriend moved to perch beside you on the bed. Her hands were folded in her lap as she thought before turning to you with a slight furrow to her brows. 

“You and Enid hug a lot.”

“Well, she’s my best friend.”

“You don’t hug me.”

“I know that it's not really your thing.” You reassured her with a smile. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Does it make you feel better? I’ve noticed you’re more physically affectionate when you’re upset.” She asked and it warmed your heart to see how serious she was, a genuine curiosity, just trying to understand you. 

“I find it comforting to be close to the people I care about, yes. It makes me feel cared for and it’s how I like showing I care. Like two parts making a whole.” 

“I suppose I wouldn’t be completely opposed to it. I'm not repulsed by you, after all.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” You laughed, linking your fingers with hers when she lay her hand on your thigh. 

-

You saw the evil glares Wednesday directed Thing’s way when she initiated intimacy, guiding your head to her shoulder or pulling a blanket over your bodies on a chilly evening. The hand was always smug when he was right. 

Sometimes a pale pinky finger would wrap around yours during a class and she would return the smile you would give her in response. You were growing used to that smile, a soft and gentle contrast to her otherwise prickly persona, the upturning of her lips that only you got to see. 

Wednesday Addams falling in love was not something that Thing and Enid had expected to see. It may or may not be a common topic of conversation on their manicure sessions. 

There was a day that she came with you to the Weathervane, warding off any potential sour words with a dark stare from her equally as dark eyes. She grasped your hand in hers as you walked, her thumb stroking over your knuckles with a warmth you might not expect. 

Her lips on your cheek never failed to make you smile and you swear the ones to your lips just get better each time. She doesn’t go quite so far as pulling you into a hug and kisses in short bursts are yet to go further but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Wednesday is soft in private, nobody would believe you if you told them and that is what made today such a shock. 

Your day hadn’t started off well at all. 

First it was your alarm not waking you up on time - the snooze button is just too easy to reach. And that meant you got to your first class late which earned a stern look from the teacher at the front of the room. 

Then you realised your late nights and trouble sleeping had messed up your grades, suddenly feeling under pressure from the workload. It all piled up into a generally shitty day, only made worse by the crappy grade you received on an assignment. 

It was safe to say that by your lunch break you were a total grouch, your chin resting in your hand with a pout on your lips whilst you just picked at the food in front of you. You let the laughter of your friends fall into the background; Enid, Bianca, Yoko and Ajax. They tried to pull you into conversation but all you could muster was a haphazard response.

“Hey, what’s up?” Bianca asked you with concern and Enid smiled at you comfortingly, pulling you into her side.

“Just nothing and everything.” You shrugged, laughing lightly at the joke Yoko made to brighten the atmosphere. 

Wednesday watched you for a few moments from across the room, a caring glint in her eye that she never thought could be there. She frowned slightly at the way your shoulders fell with a sigh and your fork poked at what she knew was your favourite meal. 

She’d made sure to grab an extra of your favourite drink and she smiled to herself when she saw your laugh - she loved the sight no matter how ‘pathetic’ that made her sound. There was just something about the way it lit up your face, the way she somehow felt it too. 

You didn’t see her sit down beside you, only being made aware of her presence when a drink slid in front of you. She smiled largely at you when your head swiveled round to face her, feeling the stress melt away at the touch of her hand to your back. 

“Are you okay?” She whispered to you, she just nodded lightly at your shrug. 

They didn’t dare to say anything - if they were held at gunpoint they’d likely swear they saw nothing - but shocked looks passed around the table at the arms that wrapped around your body. 

It startled you too to begin with but you quickly melted into her body, her hands stroked over your back and yours held onto the material of her jumper. She nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck, scaring away the wide eyed gazes of your friend group with one of her trademark looks, it felt like something she’d needed all this time. Something she’d been missing without even realising it until this moment. 

“Are you okay?” You asked her, perhaps she had a fever and this was merely an act of delirium. You heard her huff a slight laugh and practically felt the annoyed roll of her eyes at your comment. 

“Like two parts making a whole.” She shrugged.

[czrpenters]

jealous | jenna ortega x reader

summary: jenna ortega was definetly the jealous type.

warnings: just some filthy smut, jenna is g!p. vaginal sex and creampie. top!jenna & bottom!reader. english is not my first language.

pairings: jenna ortega x fem!reader.

word count: 1.5k words.

masterlist | request rules.

Jenna wasn't the one to get jealous very often. She was confident. She was an amazing partner and she knew it. That was until she met you.

You and Jenna have been dating for a while, so you could say you knew her pretty well by now, you knew she wasn't the jealous type. Except that, she was. She just didn't showed that side to you yet.

She hated it. She hated when you posted a picture on Instagram and got tons of comments about your appearance. Or when you wore some tight little skirts when you went out with your girlfriends. It was torture to her, an obnoxious feeling that she tried desperately to get rid of, day after day. But it was under control, she assumed. So, she wasn't going to tell you. She didn't need to. That was, until today. You guys decided to go to some club in Los Angeles just to take your mind off of work, Jenna was working like a dog lately, and things weren't easy for yourself as well. Jenna didn't liked the size of the dress that you were wearing, first of all, but she stayed quiet and left with you without saying a word about that. It's under control, she said to herself.

You both finally got there, and it was crowded with people dancing and drinking. It was a club frequented mostly amongst celebrities so the fans wouldn't be a problem today. The sea of people that you had to walk through was fucking huge, but nothing you couldn't handle. Jenna was holding your hand tight, noticing all of the people that were looking at her girlfriend like she was a piece of meat. Assholes, she thought.

"What do you want, baby?" You asked her, close to her ear so she could listen better. It sent chills down her spine feeling your hot breath against her ear. "Uh, just some gin and tonic will be nice."

You ordered the drinks, focusing more on the bartender making them out of pure curiosity, while Jenna was alert like an eagle, trying to murder everyone that were looking at you with her bare eyes. "I don't like this."

"Like what, baby?" You looked at her, smiling lightly.

"These people, they're literally eating you alive with their eyes. It's making me fucking insane." She huffed, holding you tight by your waist, making you laugh.

"So someone here is jealous?" It was an absurd thing to think about. You were completely hers. Physically, emotionally, sexually. You never belonged so much to somebody before. "That's ridiculous, baby."

"It's so not ridiculous, (Y/N). It pisses the shit out of me. I wish you were wearing a freaking nun outfit or something." Seeing her like this was funny and hot at the same time, and you couldn't help but enjoy teasing her. Your drinks finally were ready, so you took a big gulp of your martini and held her hand.

"Now that you mentioned, I kinda noticed... I think I do look good in this dress, right?" You teased her a little, adjusting your outfit while looking around, noticing all of the stares. From guys, girls, and anything in between. "Maybe I should wear it more often, right?"

"No, you shouldn't." She said seriously, with a very angry expression on her face. "People are already seeing too much of you."

"Really? I don't think so. Perhaps if I do this..." You grabbed the hem of the dress and purposefully pulled it up, making Jenna take a deep breath and count to three in her head.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, (Y/N)?"

"Nothing, yet." You loved teasing her, but seeing her like this was something new to you. So, it was a surprise when she grabbed your hand tightly and started walking towards the bathroom, in a rush. You didn't complaint, just followed her without saying a single word.

The bathroom was pretty empty, for some reason, but she wouldn't stop doing what she wanted to do even if it was crowded. She stormed inside a bathroom stall with you, and without even saying anything, she grabbed your waist tightly and turned you around. Your face was facing the bathroom stall's wall, your hands were touching it just for support. Before you could say anything, she put her hand over your mouth and slapped your ass so harshly that you knew it would leave a purple mark the next day. "Don't you fucking dare say anything, (Y/N)."

That was your cue to stay quiet, you thought. Jenna's hand pulled up your dress all the way up until your waist, while unbuttoning her own pants with her free palm. You felt her hardened cock brush against your ass almost immediately, and that feeling made you let out a loud moan. Not loud enough that someone outside could hear it, but Jenna did. And she loved it.

She slapped your ass again, merciless, wanting to you look at it tomorrow and remember that making her jealous was not an option anymore. "Baby..."

"What did I fucking say?" She spoke harshly by the tip of your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. "God, you're so fucking lucky that I didn't thrusted my cock into you yet."

Oh my god, you thought. You loved when Jenna talked dirty. It was something that you, and only you, could experience. And you felt so lucky for that. Jenna moved your panties aside, and without further ado, did what she desperately wanted to do. You felt her cock inside of you all at once, and that feeling made you moan like an actress right out of a porno movie. God, she didn't even gave you time to adjust?

Jenna was big. Not too huge, nor too small. She was the perfect size. But the best thing about her was that she was so fucking thick. It made you feel like your pussy was torn apart everytime she fucked you. "Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well... You're such a whore, aren't you? It's like your pussy was made only for me, right? Jesus, (Y/N.)..."

You couldn't even form a coherent sentence at the moment, not even think straight. She was thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow. It was so deep, so good and so damn right. "F-Fuck baby, it feels so good..."

"You like it, don't you?" You could hear her smiling through her words. She could be so fucking horny when she was in the mood. Again, she slapped your ass harshly, making you cry out in pain. "I bet none of these motherfuckers outside could fuck you like that, right? They wouldn't even make you cum properly, baby..." She pulled your hair strongly, holding your hips with her other hand while thrusting her dick into you as if her life depended on it. "B-Baby, slow down..."

You mumbled, not even being able to think at that moment. It made her laugh, and pull your hair harder. "Oh baby, you decided to tease me back there, am I right? Now take my cock like the good little whore you are. I don't wanna hear any complaints."

Your pussy was throbbing; when you said that her cock almost ripped you apart, you were not kidding. That pain was so fucking good and you wanted to feel her inside of you every freaking day. Her hand that was once in your hips, went down to your clit and started making circular harsh movements on that bundle of nerves. It made you moan like a whore, and that was, undoubtedly, her favourite sound in the whole world. "Fuck, Jenna! I'm so fucking close..."

"You are, baby? You wanna cum all over my cock like the bitch you are?" She whispered in your ear, getting you closer and closer to the edge each second it passed. The way she was fucking you could be easily seen in a hardcore porn movie, and you knew that she was enjoying every second of it.

"Fuck baby, yes..." You rolled your hips into her cock, making it throb inside of you. She was close too, you thought. "Cum inside of me baby, please..."

"Oh, now you're pleading? You never cease to amaze me, baby. Just when I thought you couldn't be more shameless..." She laughed, ironically. "And now you want me to fill you up with my cum, yeah?"

She had such a filthy mouth, and that drove you to the fucking edge. You came harshly, getting her cock covered with all of your juices. That was enough for her to shoot her thick cum inside of you, moaning your name loudly while she thrusted by pure reflex inside of you.

You were breathing heavily, your legs were barely holding up your own weight and your whole body was sweating. Jenna was holding you tight, making sure you wouldn't fall, while kissing your back and your shoulders. "Shit, baby... What was that about?"

"Don't you ever tease me again, are we clear?"

"Fuck yes, baby."

⠀

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Early Retirement

Summary: Izzy washes up on a beach after leaving the Revenge and rowing through a storm. Luckily for him, a kindhearted stranger took it upon themselves to take him in and nurse him back to health. Maybe even give him a new home.

Word Count: 6478

It’s cold. Too cold.

It seeped down into his bones and settled there until he couldn’t feel his limbs, he couldn’t feel anything other than that debilitating cold. He forced his eyes open but saw nothing but darkness, the salt stinging them. His lungs burnt in their attempt to suck in air but received nothing but water. 

Then everything just…disappeared.

The amount of time that passed was a mystery to Izzy but when he came back to consciousness, it was warm. It felt like his body had thawed out, limbs heavy but at least he could feel them now.

His heavy eyelids blinked open, the sunlight coming in through a window making him wince. Everything had a slight blur to it but he could make out that he was in a bedroom, one that he definitely didn’t recognise. He was tucked into a bed, pillows cradling his head and plush bedding cocooning his body, his injured foot elevated on a pile of cushions.

The last thing he could remember was…the sea. Fuck. He had left the Revenge after Stede’s return, at least being allowed the dignity to make that decision himself. A freak storm had rolled in when he was half way to reaching land in his rowboat. It ripped his little boat to shreds and the ocean had pulled him beneath the waves. 

He had barely even fought it when it happened. Izzy had always known this would be how he went, at the mercy of the sea, better than the end of a sword. Men like him didn’t get peaceful deaths, he accepted that a long time ago.

Yet, here he was and it was too warm and soft to be Hell.

As his senses returned to him he focused on a smell that wafted up from somewhere else in the house, it was something savoury, something warm and comforting.

He wasn’t alone then. It made sense, of course, but it still put him on edge.

Izzy tried to pull himself up from the bed but it felt like his body was weighed down and his foot throbbed when he tried to move it. With a grunt, he fell back down onto the bed. He could barely move, he’d need a proper plan before he flung himself out of bed.

Before he could try to move again, the door to the bedroom he was cooped up in opened. “You’re awake,” you smiled warmly, “how are you feeling?”

The pale, ragged, looking man in your guest bed was glaring at you. You were sure he would be threatening if he didn’t look like he just crawled out of an ocean grave.

“Where am I?” he questioned accusingly.

“Somewhere safe,” you assured him, ignoring his hostility as you crossed the room.

He hesitated, watching you cautiously. You supposed you couldn’t blame him, he was in a strange place and somewhat incapacitated.

“What happened?”

You sighed. “You washed up on the beach a few days ago. Saw you on a morning walk, thought you were dead by the look of you. Nearly scared the life out of me when you breathed,” you told him honestly.

“Days?” Perhaps his surprise would have been a little more audible if his voice wasn’t so scratchy. His wide eyes conveyed it enough though.

“Your foot is injured but it was wrapped so I assume you know that. You had an infection, have been in and out of consciousness with a fever for the last four days. I’m not surprised you don’t remember any of it,” you informed him.

“So you just happened upon me, dragged me back to your home, and nursed me back to health?” He was suspicious of you and he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“The doctor got some men to help haul you up from the beach and stopped you from dying on us, he left some medication, but then just left me to it.”

“Where are my things?” It was only then, as he shifted on the bed, that he realised he was only wearing his smalls under the blankets.

“For somebody who just avoided death, you are awfully quizzical,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “Everything that survived your little swim is safely stored in another room. I’m generous enough to try to help a stranger but not naive enough to let them have blades on them. I’ll bring you your clothes now that you’re awake and a pair of linen pants, they’ll be easier to get on and more comfortable than those leathers you washed up in.”

“So you know I could be dangerous?” Izzy squinted at you. You know he was dangerous but taking the chance anyway only made him more suspicious. People didn’t just do things out of the kindness of their hearts, especially for people who they thought were dangerous.

“No offence but when a man washes up on the shore, armed to the teeth and clad in black leathers, I don’t assume they’re just a travelling merchant,” you rolled your eyes.

“This happen a lot?” he asked sarcastically. At least he was well enough to give you some snark.

“Nope, you’re my first,” you shrugged, smirking slightly. “So, what do I call you?” you asked.

“None of your business,” Izzy growled, though it came out weak and scratchy.

“Well, you’re in my home but okay,” you rolled your eyes at him, as if he wasn’t a threat. Then again, he supposed he wasn’t much of a threat right now.

Izzy frowned, but his glare remained hard on you. “Who are you?”

“You tell me and I’ll tell you, for now you can just call me…your guardian angel,” you offered, making him scowl. “Anyway, you’re looking a lot brighter than when you washed up. You should be able to keep solid foods down now, so I made some healing stew special for you. Oh, and the bread just came out the oven this morning.”

Before Izzy could question you further, you had waltzed out of the room.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to return though, this time entering the room with a tray balanced on your hip. You walked up to his bedside, placing the tray down on the table beside his bed. 

The tray held a bowl of stew, a couple slices of bread, a mug of herbal tea, and a glass of water. 

Izzy just glared at the tray as you took a step back.

“Look, I’m not holding you hostage. If you want to leave, you can, but have some common sense and stay put for a while. Your foot was inflamed when you showed up, the doctor had to shave down the bone and redo the stitches. You need to rest it if you want it to heal properly,” you chastised him.

The man frowned, looking down at his foot. You saw the pain in his eyes and it made your voice soften. “Doctor said you’ll be able to move around in a couple of days if you use a crutch, then you’ll just have to use a cane. Once it’s healed though, he said it probably won’t affect your movement or balance at all.”

“You sure?” he dared to be hopeful.

“The doctor seems pretty sure. But you have to follow orders if you want it to heal properly. So you can’t go hobbling around looking for your ship just yet.”

He squinted at you, suspicions returning at full force. “What do you know about my ship?”

“Relax. I don’t know anything. I’m just not stupid, I figured you’re a pirate,” you shrugged.

Apparently, that only made him more suspicious of you. “And you still risked taking me in?” You had to have ulterior motives, it’s the only thing that made sense.

“You gonna kill me?”

“No. Not if you don’t give me a reason too.”

“Rob me.”

“No, unless I kill you.”

“...take me hostage and sell me?”

“No…”

Izzy sighed. You were right, he wasn’t a threat right now and even if he was, he had no intentions on hurting you unless you gave him a reason too.

“Then it looks like we’re safe,” you smiled, like you had just sorted some problem out. “Eat, I’ll be back soon to collect your dishes and change your bandages,” you ordered lightly before leaving the room again.

The next time you returned it was to take away his dirty dishes. He had emptied the bowl, having not realised how hungry he had been until he took that first bite. He would probably be able to eat more but knew better than to risk it, too much too soon could have him bringing it all back up.

You had brought some supplies with you to change the bandages on his foot. He had glared at you the whole time, as if expecting you to do something to purposely hurt him. You didn’t though. Instead, you handled his foot and ankle delicately, cleaned the wound as carefully as you could and rebandaged it. Working diligently, only speaking when you were apologising for something you couldn’t help or asking him if the bandages were too tight.

The rest of the day went much like that. He didn’t speak whenever you came into the room to bring him food or take away empty plates, and you didn’t try to engage him in conversation, just polite small talk before leaving again.

-

The next morning, Izzy woke up to you bringing him another tray of food. “Morning,” you greeted him, placing the tray down beside him. “Made you some breakfast, have to keep your strength up.”

Izzy tried to sit up, making himself wince. You moved quickly, helping him shift into a comfortable sitting position. His whole body still ached but the comfortable bed was helping, he couldn’t imagine how he would have felt if he had been recovering on his little cot back on the Revenge.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, sounding like you genuinely wanted to know, weren’t just being polite.

“Like my boat wrecked,” Izzy mumbled, letting you settle the tray over his lap.

“Well, that’s to be expected. You look better than you did yesterday already, that’s a good sign,” you encouraged. “I’ll be around, have some things to tend to, but just shout if you need something.” Izzy only nodded before you were out the door again.

-

The next few days went very much the same but with each passing day, Izzy could feel his strength coming back. He could sit up perfectly fine on his own, had even stood once, only to fall back down when his injured foot touched the floor. He could feel himself recovering, the room was comfortable and the food was good. He supposed he shouldn’t complain but…he was feeling cooped up, trapped, useless.

Izzy lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling when he heard movement outside his window. It was probably nothing of interest but even that was appealing to him right now.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, bracing his weight against the bedside table as he stood on his uninjured foot. He kept the wounded foot from touching the floor as he hobbled towards the window.

It was morning, you had just taken his breakfast dishes from his room, and the weather outside was bright. He looked out over the garden.

From what he could make out, he was on the second floor of a cottage, no other residences in sight.

From his window, he could see your garden where you were tending to your chickens. Tossing feed out for them. He lent against the window frame to support his weight and just watched.

You wiped your hands on your apron once you were finished tending to your chickens, looking up to see your guest in the window of the guest bedroom.

Izzy felt his face heating up, a shame building in his chest as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. But you just smiled brightly and waved at him, silently noting to yourself to chastise him for moving around without support.

-

Izzy scowled at you from his position, perched on the edge of his bed.

“Here you go,” you presented him with the wooden crutch the doctor had given you for him. “Think you can manage?” you kept your hands out, as if ready to catch him if he fell, as he pulled himself to his feet, letting the crutch take the weight off of his bad foot.

“I’ve used a crutch before,” he grumbled, determined to be able to be properly independent again.

“Just making sure,” you were still watching him closely, hands hovering around him as you moved out of his way.

Rolling his eyes at you, Izzy gave the crutch a test run, using it to walk across the room without grabbing at tables and walls. You just nodded to yourself, satisfied that he was adjusting well to it.

“Listen, now you move around more by yourself but don’t take the piss,” you scolded, surprising him a little. “You still need to rest, to stay off of your foot as much as possible. Okay?”

As much as he wanted to scoff and dismiss you, he could tell you were serious.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Seriously, just accept some help, alright?” you found yourself rolling your eyes at him again, you had lost count of how many times you had done so since this man could hold a conversation again. Still, you found you did it with a little fondness.

-

Now that Izzy had started using his crutch, he could move around your cottage, moving up and down the stairs with your help. He insisted that he didn’t need your help but you wouldn’t let him near the narrow staircase unless you were with him.

At least that meant he could come downstairs and sit in the living room or the kitchen instead of being locked away in his room all alone, he could even go and sit outside and get some fresh air. 

He was currently in the living room, you had left him in front of the fire with a selection of books to choose from, while you finished cleaning up in the kitchen. You had just put the last of the dishes away when you heard hissed cursing coming from the other room.

Tossing the rag down, you rushed into the living room to find Izzy standing, gripping the back of the couch with one hand and clutching his crutch with another. The pain was etched on his face.

“Alright, come on,” you spoke softly, with care, as you hurried to his side. 

You took hold of his arm, listening to him complain as you encouraged him to lean some weight against you. Still, he let you guide him back to the couch and sit him down.

Once he was sitting and you had placed the crutch to the side, you knelt down in front of him and pulled his wounded foot into your lap.

He had knocked it against something when he was walking around and when you unwrapped the bandages you saw that it was a little red but looked perfectly fine otherwise. He hadn’t broken any of the stitches, he wasn’t bleeding, it didn’t look too irritated. Thankfully, he was still on the mend.

“You have to take it easy, be careful and don’t over do it,” you sighed. Something about this man told you that he wasn’t used to sitting idle for long.

“I’m fine. Just knocked it,” he insisted petulantly.

“Yeah, well…just be careful. Once the bandages come off for good and you can put proper weight on your foot again, you’ll be able to get around with just a cane.”

“And then I’ll have outstayed my welcome,” Izzy nodded like he was agreeing with something.

“What? No!” you frowned, sitting back on your heels. “Of course not. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need.”

Izzy blinked at you, face contorting in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I’m kind and you’ve been a decent guest so far,” you shrugged, like it was truly that simple and that true, standing and brushing off your knees. “Now, sit still for once and I’ll fetch you some tea,” you ordered and, well, Izzy could follow orders, couldn’t he.

You were just about to leave the room, just about to cross the threshold, when he spoke up.

“My name is Izzy.”

You paused in the doorway, taking a moment to make sure you had heard him correctly. You turned back to him with a smile, all soft and sweet in a way that warmed him from the inside out.

“Izzy,” you repeated, testing the word on your tongue. Izzy found that he liked the sound of it and you decided that you liked the feel of it. “I like it.”

Izzy only nodded when you gave him your own name, still smiling as you disappeared back into the kitchen to prepare that tea for the two of you.

That evening, the two of you enjoyed a soothing tea in front of the fire together.

-

“I think it makes you look distinguished,” you complimented as you monitored his movements, smiling at how far he had come since you found him half dead in the sand.

“That’s a generous way of saying old,” Izzy rolled his eyes, adjusting his hold on the handle of his new cane. It wasn’t anything fancy but it was simple and sleek, good enough for him in his opinion.

“Absolutely not,” you tutted. “Anyway, you wear the age well so it still wouldn’t be an insult,” you shrugged.

Izzy looked away from you meaningfully, hoping to play it off as casual. “If you say so.”

“You could get a real nice one with a silver handle or something. Oh! You can get one with a hidden knife in it!”

You could just picture holding a sleek but ornate cane, just simple enough to satisfy him. Looking all distinguished and formal until somebody says the wrong thing, looks at him the wrong away, and he unsheathes his hidden blade.

“Huh…that’s not a bad idea, actually,” Izzy hummed, looking at the cane more approvingly this time. Yeah, maybe he could make this work.

-

Evening tea had become a bit of a routine for the two of you now. Sitting in your cozy living room in front of the fire, blankets over your laps, a cup of tea in your hands, and maybe a book each depending on your mood. It was a pleasant, calming way to end the day.

Izzy kept glancing at you, watching as your eyes followed the lines in your book, lost in the fictional world. He wanted to speak, to get this off of his chest, to take the weight off of your shoulders but…but he found himself worried that saying what he needed to say would take all of this away from him. He liked this, even if it wasn’t a life made for him. He would miss it.

“I’m really able to leave now. I’d find a ship,” he finally managed to speak, to push the words out without faltering.

You paused, lowering your book to look at him. “And I’ve told you, you’re still welcome. I like living out of the way, like the quiet, y’know, but it’s been nice to have you here. You’re interesting and I enjoy your company. Izzy scoffed. “Really, I do,” you insisted.

“Well, you’re probably the only person who does,” he muttered, thumbing at the pages of the book he hadn’t been reading.

“That can’t be true.”

“Apparently, I’m difficult.”

“Okay…yeah, I can see that. But it’s kind of…endearing, you know?” you laughed a little.

Izzy pondered it for a moment, still not really believing it despite how sincere you sounded. “...if you say so.”

“I do,” you didn’t care how many times you needed to reassure him, he needed it and that was all you needed to know. “Anyway, don’t you go worrying about rushing out of here. You can stay as long as you need.”

“You wouldn’t want me here if you knew who I was,” Izzy insisted firmly.

“Well, tell me who you are, Izzy,” you placed your book down, completely forgotten about, so that he could see your full attention was on him. “Tell me, Izzy. It won’t change anything,” you promised.

Izzy sighed, placing his unopened book down as well, refusing to look at you as he spoke. “You can’t promise that.”

“You’ll never know unless you tell me,” you shrugged.

Izzy took a stabling breath but nodded, knowing you were right, that you would probably find out eventually anyway. It would be better if you heard it from him.

“My full name is Israel Hands and you were right about me being a pirate,” he started. For some, that would be enough information.

“...that name is familiar,” you hummed thoughtfully, trying to remember where you heard it. It didn’t sound like a common name and you were certain you didn’t know anyone with the name ‘Hands’, but you had definitely heard the name before somewhere.

“I’m the first mate of Blackbeard,” he added.

For a moment, you could only gape at him. It wasn’t everyday you found out you were housing one of the most infamous pirates of your time.

Izzy waited for the horror or disgust to set in. He knew the stories and tall tales people told, some true and others wildly fabricated. He knew that you had likely heard one or two stories yourself if you recognised his name.

You shook off the surprise but found yourself more confused about how he ended up here. “What is the first mate of Blackbeard doing washing up here with a missing toe?” you asked, not sounding disgusted or afraid of him.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed, figuring you didn’t really want to hear it anyway.

“I have the time.”

Izzy was certain that you were just being polite, perhaps even afraid that if you weren’t he would hurt you in some way, but when he looked at you, you were nothing but genuine. Your eyes held the usual care and sincerity that they usually did when they gazed upon him. Your smile was still soft. Like nothing had changed, and maybe it hadn’t.

So, unable to find a reason not to, Izzy told you everything. You just made yourself so easy to talk to. He started from the very beginning because you wanted to know who he was, not just how he ended up here. 

He told you of a young boy at the docks sneaking onto a ship, of a cabin boy aboard Captain Hornigold’s ship, of a newly made captain and first mate that still had sparks in their eyes. He told you about the creation and rise of Blackbeard, of the fuckeries, the victories, and the losses. He told you about Queen Anne’s Revenge and of all the years they served her well. He told you of men growing bored and restless, of a ship christened The Revenge. Of the landed gentry come pirates. 

He told you a saga of hope and pain that ended in betrayal, desertion, mutilation, reunion, and finally in the enlightenment that had Izzy Hands climbing into a dinghy in the middle of the night. Only two days away from shore. Only one day before a storm that only his previous captain could have predicted.

Izzy told you everything in front of a crackling fire, the warm mug of tea growing cold in his hands. And you listened, like he was somebody worth listening to.

That night, you both fell asleep in the living room. The fire burning out but the blankets draped over you both keeping you warm. For the first time in a long time, neither of you fell asleep alone.

-

When you woke up the next morning to find the other side of the couch empty and the house silent, you worried. Your talk last night went very well, in your opinion. Izzy had opened up and you had listened, had reassured him when he was finished or doubted himself.

You threw off your blanket and jumped to your feet, heading out the front door. You walked around to the rocks that overlooked the beach, finding him sitting there, looking out at the sea.

You relaxed at the sight of him, reassured that he hadn't run away in the middle of the night. You joined him quietly, he didn’t look up but he seemed to welcome your company.

The two of you watched the sun rise over the horizon but you couldn’t help stealing looks at Izzy’s face, he looked so…content. There was a faint longing in his gaze, lost in his thoughts, but he looked happy, the early morning sun illuminating his face.

“Do you miss it?” you asked, staring out at the gentle water with him.

“Sometimes…” Izzy confessed on a soft exhale. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really. It’s strange being on land. The ground is always so still.”

“Yeah, it tends to be,” you joked a little, catching the way the corner of his mouth tugged upwards in the imitation of a smile.

A beat of silence passed. “I understand if you want me to leave now.” Unfortunately, he kept speaking before you could protest. “My foot is healed enough. The worst that can happen now is that I need the cane for the rest of my life, I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”

This again…you sighed.

“Izzy, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Even when you know who I am?”

“Even then,” you nodded, smiling fondly. “I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not some violent barbarian that people tell stories about. I’ve known you long enough to know you wouldn’t hurt me and that I’m rather fond of you. My home is open to you for as long as you want it to be,” you promised.

“Kindness gets people killed,” Izzy chastised quietly.

“Lucky thing I have the best swordsman in the Caribbean to protect me then, huh?” you teased, knocking your shoulder against his.

“Yeah…real lucky…” Izzy mumbled out at the ocean.

“So you’re staying?” you asked, not hiding the hope in your voice. Izzy just nodded. “Good, I’m glad,” your smile grew.

“At least for the time being,” he shrugged.

“I’ll just have to make the most of it then, won’t I?” You tried not to roll your eyes at his attempt to play coy. Izzy shook his head at you but found himself smiling despite himself.

“Now come inside and get something to eat,” you patted his shoulder.

Izzy let you help him to his feet and hand him his cane without complaint. He even let you take him by the arm and guide him back into the cottage, though he pretended that he didn’t find the whole thing comforting.

-

You walked into Izzy’s room, which you had started calling it instead of ‘the guest room’, and found him shaving in front of the mirror.

“Aw, I was likely the scruffy look,” you pouted playfully.

“It’s a fucking nightmate,” Izzy muttered as he shaved his cheeks clean. Now he could stop scratching at the stubble. You just chuckled fondly at him.

“Want me to trim your hair when you’re done?” you offered. His stubble had grown in almost enough to not be considered stubble anymore and his hair had grown as well, you figured he’d want that trimmed back down if he was so particular about his facial hair.

“I can do it myself.”

“I have no doubt. I usually do my own as well, but a little helping hand would do no harm.”

Moving on to neatening around his goatee, Izzy sighed. “Fine…just…”

“I’ll do it exactly the way you want, don’t worry,” you promised him.

“Fine.”

You sat on the bed while Izzy finished shaving and trimming his goatee until it was perfectly neat. Izzy’s stubble had grown in while he was bed bound, so this was your first time seeing him properly groomed the way he liked. Turns out, you liked it too.

He was huffy about it but allowed you to pick up the shears and comb through his hair. You worked slowly, making sure to speak to him and not take it too short. As you spoke and worked, Izzy seemed to relax, trusting you.

You cut his hair back down to the length he preferred but he still hadn’t slicked it back with pomade like he usually did, hadn’t done so since he woke up in this very bedroom. Instead, it hung loose and soft over his ears. It made him look soft, less intense. He supposed it was more suitable for his current living conditions so he tried not to dwell on it too much.

“There you go. You look lovely,” you complimented, running your fingers through his hair and letting it fall, smiling proudly at your handiwork. Izzy scoffed. “Oh just accept it,” you tutted, “you’re all neat and tidy again, all nice and handsome.”

“Christ,” Izzy complained, glaring at your reflection. “I will maim you.”

“Ah, so there is some pirate left in you. Very nice to see,” you teased. “I’ll leave you to keep grooming yourself.”

You could hear him muttering curses to himself as you left the room, giggling to yourself.

-

Izzy sat at the kitchen island, cane propped up beside him, peeling apples while you worked on making a pastry. “You really need to make a pie?” Izzy questioned, but didn’t slow his work.

“We need to use up the apples somehow or they’re just going to go bad and that would be a waste,” you reminded him. “Anyway, you’ll like it. I make a great apple pie.”

“...you’ll have a high standard to beat,” he warned.

“You’ve made me curious, Izzy,” you looked over at him but he didn’t look like he wanted to talk any further about it, so you didn’t push. “You can tell me another day.”

You continued to make the pie, the fluidity of your actions telling Izzy that you had indeed done this many times. You would give him a task here and there, and he would carry it out diligently. You could imagine him as a first mate, just as diligent on the deck as he was as your sous chef.

Izzy watched you plate up two slices of freshly baked pie. “Here, have a slice while it’s still warm,” you placed a plate in front of him. “Cream?”

“Sure,” Izzy nodded and poured some over his slice before joining him, sitting beside him. Izzy took a spoonful of pie and brought it up to his mouth before pausing and scowling at you. “Stop fucking watching me like that.”

“I want to know if you like it,” you whined.

“Then I’ll tell you,” he huffed.

“No you wouldn’t. You’d mumble ‘yeah, it’s fine’ even if it was the best thing you had ever eaten.”

Izzy fought back his smile, knowing you were right. “I promise to tell you just stop looking at me like that.”

“Fine,” you sighed heavily, dramatically. “If you insist.” No, you weren’t pouting.

But you also didn’t watch him eat, and that was enough to satisfy him. “Okay, yeah…” Izzy sighed after swallowing his second bite. “This is good,” he praised.

“Thank you,” you grinned, bright and proud, before digging into your own slice. 

Izzy just chuckled and shook his head at you, going back to enjoying his pie.

Izzy slows his chewing when a thought dawns on him. This was all so…domestic, the way you moved around each other, shared the space together. He didn’t think he’d ever be sitting in a kitchen of a cute cottage, eating a pie that was made for him by his…fuck, he needed to shake off that thought immediately. 

His what? His carer? The person who took him in when he was on death’s door, who took pity on him.

“We could go for a walk later, maybe even down to town if you feel up to it. Give that cane a proper test run,” you suggested between bites.

“Sure,” he agreed.

“But I swear, if I see a single flinch or hesitation in your steps, we are turning around and coming right back home.” You didn’t come off as a threatening person, you were rarely stern with him, but he knew you were being serious about this.

Maybe he was focusing on the wrong part of your warning but…

Home. 

You talked about it like it was both your home and his home, a home you shared. Like it could be his home. Could this be his home? Fuck.

“Sounds good,” Izzy nodded.

-

Izzy had allowed himself to grow too comfortable, he only realised that when the worries seeped back in. He had grown used to your home, your presence. He didn’t like change, never had, and a lot of things had changed lately but the two of you had developed a bit of a routine that helped calm his nerves. Now it felt like it was all changing again.

You had been acting strange, almost distant towards him. As much as you could do while sharing the same space. He would often catch you losing yourself in through but never voicing them, never letting him in on it when he asked. Something was wrong, he must have done something wrong, it was the only thing that made sense. Maybe you were building up the courage to kick him out and send him on his way, you had realised he was more trouble than he was worth.

“Izzy, can we talk about something?”

This was it, you were going to ask him to leave. He has outstayed his welcome, if he has ever truly been welcome in the first place.

“Sure.” His voice didn’t falter and he was proud of himself for that.

“You told me how you ended up here, about what happened and I was wondering…well, the crew, Blackbeard, aren’t expecting you to return, are they?”

That question threw him off. Oh, maybe you were worried about Blackbeard coming to your shores and causing trouble. “Probably not. They’re probably relieved about it as well,” Izzy answered, honest but a little bitter about it, even he could admit to that.

“And you aren’t going to try to go back?” you asked, though the question wasn’t judgmental in any way.

“Wouldn’t be welcome if I tried, I imagine. But I have contacts, I’d find another ship or something,” he didn’t want to lie to you but he also didn’t want you to keep allowing him to live in your home out of pity or guilt. He would manage, he would survive, he always did.

“…Blackbeard was talking about retiring, right?”

Izzy felt himself sigh before he heard it. “Sure. Guess he managed it too, in his own way I suppose. Didn’t think retirement was a fucking option. Still not sure it is,” he admitted.

You looked nervous again, aimlessly fixing a cushion on the couch you both sat on. “What if this could be your retirement?”

“What do you mean?” Izzy frowned.

You might have huffed and rolled your eyes at him for being dense but you could see his genuine confusion. “Somewhere peaceful and quiet for you to relax. Good weather. Somewhere comfortable by the sea. Sounds like a good retirement spot to me…”

“I…what are you saying?”

You had to fight the temptation to reach out for him. “I’m saying that maybe you deserve to have a retirement too. Some…some good days without constant worry and fear. Maybe you deserve it and have earnt it just as much as Blackbeard,” you gave into the need, reaching out and placing your hand over his, “and I’m asking if you could have that here, I’m asking if you would stay.”

“You want me to stay…for good?” His face was scrunched up like he was trying to figure out some complicated puzzle. Like he didn’t believe that you could just want him to stay here with you.

“I do,” you nodded like it was as simple as that, because it was. “I’ve lived out here for a long time. Never felt lonely despite the distance I am from town. I think I would be lonely if you left. Think I would miss you. No, I know I would.”

“I don’t need charity,” Izzy growled, pulling his hand away from yours.

It made you ache but you didn’t fight him, didn’t try to touch him again, giving him the space he needed. “I’m not doing you a favour. I just want you here, Izzy. If you want to go, I’ll support you and do whatever I can to help, of course, but I want you to stay.”

Izzy couldn’t argue with you, apparently. He didn’t snap or accuse you of lying, he paused and considered it. Why would you lie? What would you be getting out of this if you were lying?

“…why?”

There was so much you could say, so much you had yet to put into words. But one of the many things you had learnt about Izzy during your time together was that actions spoke louder than words, the care you had shown him had earnt his trust more than anything you had said.

You acted before you could talk yourself out of it.

You shifted closer to him on the couch, placing a hand against his shoulder when you lent in. The kiss you pressed to his lips was short and tender, just enough to express the way you felt.

When you pulled back, hand still on his shoulder, he was just looking at you. The lines on his face softened and lips slightly parted as he blinked at you.

“Will you stay with me, Izzy?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Izzy nodded, looking a little stunned but the answer felt right. “Yeah, yes, I will. I want to stay as well.”

You smiled adoringly, lifting your hand from his shoulder to stroke his cheek.

Izzy had woken up in your home thinking he had died out at sea but he knew there was no way that was the case because this couldn’t be his afterlife. He hadn’t done enough good to earn this, you were just giving him this out of the kindness of your heart.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve it, didn’t think he did deserve it, but he was here anyway. Maybe you were right, maybe this could be the next, maybe even the last, phase of his life. He would do whatever he could to earn it now, to earn you and this home.

[theobliviousunluckybastard]

This whole exchange was hilarious!!🤣🤣

Archie freaking out while Witira is beating the earthworm!!

HANNAH : What's the matter?

ARCHIE : ...I missed it

HANNAH : What?

ARCHIE : ... When I was young ....

Well, you know that our village is on ice, right? There-

Anyway, there was a piece of trash in the whale tribe too! That guy once got into trouble with a penguin beast when we were young.

Witira saw that -

[THUD!! The ground shook again]

ARCHIE : Ugh! ...Anyway, Witira went to catch that bastard!

HANNAH : Right, however?

ARCHIE : That scumbag ran away and just turned into a whale and jumped into the sea!

HANNAH : So?

ARCHIE : Witira caught that whale. And-

And Witira lifted the whole whale up and smashed it to the ground.

HANNAH : ......

THUD!!

ARCHIE : Now, now, this is the sound! It's similar to that beating! While holding the tail fin and drawing a semicircle left and right like striking a paddle! At that time, the sound was like this!

HANNAH : ..........

BOOOM!!

ARCHIE : She was so upset back then that Witira's eyes rolled back! It was Paceton, who was young at the time, crying and saying, 'Sister, that's enough'. It won't stop unless you cling to her like this! Paceton has grown up now. No! But if Paceton comes and cries and clings to Witira, Witira will stop! Paceton is in Roan! How can we bring him! Huh?

HANNAH : ... Why are you asking me that?

ARCHIE : No, we’re in real trouble!

[Leaves the tent]

Damn it! It keeps snowing! It’s getting worse! Damn it! We don’t have to worry about the water running out here!

HANNAH : Then wouldn’t it be good for the whale people? Wouldn’t it be good if there was a lot of snow?

ARCHIE (frustrated) : Therefore! It's a problem because we like it! If the snow piled up like this!

(Shouts) She could even go berserk! (Pulling his hair)Damn it! It all looks broken! We have to stop it!

[Starts running]

[Meanwhile, Cale and Raon, in a distance, watching the scene:]

RAON : Human, Archie is rushing to the battlefield! Why?

CALE : ....I think I understand.

[mousy-nona]

Half My Soul (As the Poets Say) 1/?

They called him Menoetiades. They called him Patroclus. 

But he knew himself to be Alastor, in this incarnation and in every other. 

He was born a prince, among jewels and fur. Here is a little known secret: when a prince is born, he is born with a crown on his head. And even if someone were to throw the crown away, the boy does not forget the weight of it. 

A prince is always a prince. His city might cast him out, his father may strike him down and send him away, they could take his title, his wealth, his armies – but they would never be able to drain the blue blood flowing thick in his veins. 

And so when his father exiled him to Phthia (you’re a freak! An abomination of nature! I would rather be childless than have a killer for a son!) he went with his head held high. As if his crown still sat heavy in his blood-red hair. 

The only thing he’d said to his father before he had left was: no one cared when it was a servant boy. 

Menoetius had sneered, but when he turned away from Alastor, there was a glimmer of fear in his eye. Why? Because he feared a man who could kill a prince as easily as he could kill a farmer’s son? 

Phthia was rich in soil and boys. Alastor stared eagerly, drinking in the unfamiliar sights, his eyes open so wide they caught the sunlight there like rubies in firelight. His native land had been all shadows, darkness and fog for miles unending. Phthia, on the other hand, was drenched in sunlight. Everything was bright, even the palace itself. It was the home of a hero – the mighty King Peleus, blessed by the gods, who had known Heracles and Jason both – and the stories of his great feats were written in the mosaics on the wall. 

As a disgraced ex-prince and a known murderer, Alastor was given a tiny bunk in the darkest corner room, which he shared with six other boys. No matter. Within a week of Alastor’s too-sharp smiles and his jokes about accidentally slipping and falling in the dark as he twirled his knife, the other boys slunk away to sleep in the courtyard, the olive groves, the stables – and Alastor had a room for himself.

The next week he figured out why there were so many boys in Phthia. King Peleus was building himself an army. Every day and sometimes well into the night, they were forced to do drills, run sprints, fire arrows, and – his personal favorite – spar. Alastor found he was particularly skilled with the spear, the sharp point finding its target again and again and again until even his teachers looked a little pale at his deadly accuracy. 

He was the best – aside from one. 

Achilles.

The first time Alastor saw the Prince of Phthia he thought: so the gods are real after all. 

Then he thought: why is he so short?

Achilles was carved from sunlight and grace. He had one foot on the back of a man’s head and one of his arms in a death grip, and he made the awkward move look like a song. His every movement was fluid and quick, more water than man. 

But his golden skin, his golden hair, the golden tips of his tunic – that was all divine grace. 

Achilles was the son of a king, but he was also the son of the sea, and Alastor shivered at the echoes of Thetis’s power that shimmered just underneath his surface. Alastor’s mouth started watering. The power of a god…what did that feel like? What did it taste like?

He must have made a sound, because Achilles looked up then, and their gazes met. 

If Alastor had had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. Red eyes. Just like his own.

“What are you doing?” He asked, cocking his head as he watched Achilles twist the man’s arm as easily as someone might pop the cork from a wineskin. 

“Stopping a thief.” Achilles’s voice was soft, almost musical. “This man was taking from my father’s stores.” 

“Why don’t you kill him?”

Achilles shrugged. “He doesn’t deserve to die.” 

“You’ll let him get away?” Alastor snorted. “So he can tell all his friends back home that Phthia is an easy target?”

The man let out a muffled shout of protest, but was quickly silenced by Alastor’s glare. Achilles huffed. 

“They wouldn’t dare. These are my halls. They know who I am.” 

“If your reputation is so frightening, why was he able to break in?”

Achilles spluttered, that godly grace broken by human indignation. Alastor smirked.

“What would be your solution then, o’ wise one?” Achilles snorted.

The blur of the knife was too fast for any eye to follow. Anyone other than that of Achilles’, of course. He stepped backwards, smooth and easy, milliseconds before the sharp blade impaled itself in the man’s head. 

He glared at Alastor, and a thrill of pleasure went down Alastor’s spine. Pissing off the Prince was fun. “You could have hit me.” 

“But I didn’t.” His smile was sharp. “I had to test your famous reputation, didn’t I?”

Achilles scoffed, bent down, and picked up the dead thief. Even though the body was twice his size, he lifted him as if he weighed nothing at all. 

Alastor stepped into place next to him. “Where are you going now?”

He sniffed. “To place this man’s body in a shroud until his family can come for him.”

Alastor raised his brow, paused, then started cackling. 

“What?” Achilles lurched to a stop, exasperation painting his face. “What is it now?” 

“You really are as righteous as the stories say,” Alastor grinned amid peals of laughter. “Achilles.”

The Prince wrinkled his nose. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then what should I call you?” He started counting on his fingers. “Prince of Phthia? Son of Thetis? Aristos Achaion?” 

“Lucifer,” was his unexpected answer. 

“Lucifer,” Alastor purred. Even then, the first time he said his name, the word came out like a caress. It sounded right on his tongue.

“And yourself?” 

Alastor couldn’t tell if he was being polite, or if he actually did want to know. But when he answered him, he gave him his true name, and not the false one. “Alastor.” 

That was how he became Lucifer’s shadow; the darkness to his golden light. That was how the threads of the Fates started to spin. 

[obsessedelusional]

i met y/n in the bathroom

paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x Fem!Reader

summary ✦ AU where Bella isn’t famous, just a regular high school senior. Bella has a fat ass crush on you. Not knowing the feelings are mutual. What happens when you finally gain the confidence to approach Bella? The weed in your system just might be the thing giving you that little push you needed. (alludes to smut)

word count ✦ 1,400ish

authors note ✦ can’t stop listing to I met Sarah in the bathroom by awfultune so I wrote this

masterlist

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Bella is eager to share the most recent development in her life with her life long friend, Riley. They arrived to school earlier than normal, sat at their regular hangout spot. Riley is no where to be seen, Bella nervously taps her leg. Pulling out their phone to shoot their friend a text.

Bella: where are you

“I’m right here.” Riley laughs, startling Bella in the process.

“What’s so important?” Riley asks sitting down next you Bella.

“Alright uh, let me tell you the story.” Bella begins.

“You know the party I went to last night?”

“The one you swore you wouldn’t be caught dead at, that one?” Riley ask, with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah that one.” Bella smiles a cheesy grin.

“I may have had a moment with a girl, a really cute girl.”

—

The Party

“Live a little, drink! Let loose!” Bella’s closest male friend Justin demands, already a little tipsy. Passing a drink to Bella, she takes it and pretends to take a sip.

“Finally!” He belches before leaving Bella alone is the sea of people. She lets out an annoyed sigh before taking a seat at an empty couch. Pulling out their phone, full of regret for even agreeing to show up. It never failed when she tagged along on one of Justin’s many escapades, they always got left alone as Justin went off to socialize. Bella continued to show up for Justin in the hopes to get a glimpse of you.

The loud sound of laughter causes Bella to look up from their phone. There you are, throwing Justin into a hug. While still in Justin’s embrace, you look over to Bella’s way. Smiling and sending a small wave their way, Bella smiles before going back to their phone. Too afraid to continue the eye contact.

Bella cursed them self for being so damn shy. She admired you because you were a daredevil. They admired you for a whole list of reasons. In Bella’s eyes your were gorgeous. Always dressed so well and makeup so extra, she loved everything about you.

Tonight no different, you were wearing a pink dress that hugged your curves perfectly. The dress has a cut out right under your breast, perfectly exposing the skin there. Pink colorful eyeshadow on you eyelids, your makeup always matched your fit. Tonight little sparkly butterfly clips placed strategically in your hair. Bella loved seeing what you came up with every day. Too frightened by the tiny crush that had been inside them for so long, to compliment you.

To Bella’s surprise, you walked over to where they sat. Plopping down right next to them. Resting your tired head on their shoulder. You weren’t that tired until you smoked, the green nearly knocking you out.

“Surprised to see you here.” You say, looking up at Bella who’s trying their best to act natural.

“Uh… yeah Justin basically begged me.” They say, attention on their phone. Internally they’re freaking the fuck out.

“Why aren’t we closer?” You ask, Bella looks down at you taken a back by your question.

“I mean like I’m friends with Justin. Your Justin’s friend. That basically makes us friends, right?” Your high ass ask.

“I guess so.” Bella responds, timidly.

“Bella. Ya know, I really like hanging out with you.” You speak just loud enough for Bella to hear. Saying everything but what you actually want to say.

“Aww I like hanging out with you too.” Bella says, partially confused. You guys never really hung out before. Yeah you were always around when Justin was around but that was about the extent of your relationship. Your high ass laughs out loud, falling into Bella again.

“I think I really wanna kiss ya,” you say even quieter than before. Finally mustering up the courage to say what’s been heavy on your mind. Biting your lip in anticipation for their response.

“Wait, really?” Bella asks, eyes wide with excitement.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to scare you.” You sigh, getting ready to leave Bella sat alone one the couch.

“Na, it’s cool.” She responds bringing a smile to your face. You stand up, intertwining your fingers with there fingers. You motion for them to stand up, Bella does just that. She’d do anything you’d ask of her. You lead Bella to the nearest bathroom, thankfully it’s empty. You guide Bella in, locking the door behind yourself. No one daring enough to turn the lights on. The only light is coming in through the small window. The moonlight illuminates Bella’s features beautifully.

“Can I?” You ask, Bella nods to afraid to speak and possibly ruin the moment. You move closer, pushing Bella into the wall. You kiss Bella affectionately which quickly turns more frantic when they begin kissing you back. Your hands find their way to Bella’s who doesn’t know what to do with their own. Leading their hands to your chest, letting them explore your body.

“Are you sure?” Bella asks, looking up at you. You were a few inches taller then Bella. The sight of them looking up at you like that, driving you absolutely insane.

“This is kinda crazy.” They say, actively trying to catch their breath. Hands still fumbling with your dress, finding their way to skin exposed by the cutout on your dress.

“I just really wanna… I don’t want to take it slow.” You respond, staring straight into Bella’s dark orbs. Attempting to read their face to find a reaction.

“If you want to stop I’ll stop. I don’t want to stop.” Bella smiles knowing with a face like yours so close to theirs, they can’t say no. They don’t want to say no.

“I want to.” Bella says, before smashing her lips into yours. Kissing you more deep this time, hands finally reaching under the thin fabric of your dress to caress your sensitive peaks.

—

“There’s so way you hooked up with her.” Riley laughs, not believing Bella in the slightest.

“She’s not even gay.”

“Explain this then.” Bella lowers the collar of their shirt exposing the hickey you left on their skin.

“That could be anything.” Riley half laughs still not believing.

“Where did you go last night? I tried calling you snd texting you like a million times.” Justin asks, sitting next to Bella. Bella shoots a look at Riley that says don’t say anything. But Riley says everything, all the time. Bella shouldn’t expect any less at this point.

“Apparently she was too busy hooking up with Y/N. Even got a love bite to prove it.” She teases.

“Makes sense.” Justin says, confusing them.

“You believe them, really?”

“Yeah. I may have told Y/N some things a while back.” Justin explains.

“Things?” Bella asks concerned.

“Yeah she told me she thought she was a lesbian. So I was like omg I know a lesbian and maybe have unintentionally outed you to her.” He further explains.

“Since then she’s always asking about you. Begging me to bring you everywhere with me. I thought maybe she liked you, I was right!” Justin says proud of himself.

“You’re welcome.” He says before leaving Riley and Bella alone. Bella trying desperately to understand all the information thrown at them. Today was fucked, there was no way Bella was gonna be a functioning student today. You had stolen Bella’s phone last night and texted you self so you could have their number. Your phone number was burning a hole in their pocket, desperately wanting to message you. Deciding in the end, it’s too risky.

At lunch they sat alone, waiting for Riley to arrive any second. Only for you to be the one to occupy the space next to them.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Hi,” Bella speaks softly.

“About last night…” Bella feels like she knows exactly where this going, she’s not ready for the heartbreak.

“If you regret-“

“I don’t regret what happened. Can I finish?” You ask to which Bella nods yes.

“I like you like a lot a lot and I don’t really know what to do with that information. So I was thinking maybe we could be more than friends?” You further explain, talking to Bella but not daring to look at their face. You watch Bella’s hands instead, as they fidget with the rings on their fingers. Trying your best not think about where those hands were last night, getting flustered at the memory.

“Are you asking-“

“Yes I am, okay?” You interrupt.

“Yeah I think I can make that work.” They tease causing you to roll your eyes. You playfully shove Bella before placing a sweet kiss on their lips.

“So she wasn’t lying, wow.” Riley speaks interrupting your moment with Bella. Bella only flips Riley off before falling into your embrace, kissing you again.

[deanscherrypie420]

Demon Blood - Part 1

A/N : Hi! This is my first public fan fiction I've written. I hope you enjoy! (Supernatural storyline is not followed) I didn't word count but uh.. It's.. It's long :D

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader (Y/N), Sam Winchester, Bobby, Castiel.

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Fem!Reader, Sam X Reader (Platonic) Castiel X Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Angst, demons, blood, injuries, mild detail into injuries, cursing, arguing, physical fights, supernatural hunts, slow burn (Let me know if I missed anything :) )

Summary: You were born a demon. You never found out why, but you have demon blood in your veins. Your father left when you were young and you've lived with Bobby ever since. One day, the Winchesters come storming back into your life for a place to stay. Sour memories are brought up and you and Dean can't stop fighting..

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

She woke up to commotion in the main room. She glanced around her bedroom and pushed the blankets away. Grabbing her gun from underneath her pillow, she quietly walked to her door, listening in for any context. All she heard was men laughing. Groaning slightly, she made her way out to the living room. Immediately Bobby turns to her, a weary smile on his face.

"Y/N! The Winchester boys are gonna be staying here for a bit between hunts."

She glanced at them. Sam had changed a bit, he was tall, very fit. He'd grown his hair out more and he had an awkward smile. Dean was.. Dean. She didn't need to get into more detail.

"Why? Can't they just motel surf?" She said bitterly. She glared at the older Winchester. He had a small shit-eating grin on his face and it made her sick. "Or did you miss me, De?" She said with a tight smile, sarcasm lacing her words line thorns on a rose.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was coloring at the dining room when two boys arrived. The older man dropping them off seemed to be in a hurry and just as quickly as he was there, he was gone. Bobby had guided the two over to her and she smiled big.

"Hi! I'm Y/N! What are your names?" She said excitedly. One of the boys was older than her, taller too. He seemed to be about twelve years old. The other one was definitely around her age, maybe just a little older. The older one glanced down at his brother and he answered, "I'm Dean. He's Sam."

This was the start of a friendship between Sam and her. They were best friends, always drawing or reading together. One time she even stole a book from a library for him. Dean on the other hand, didn't like her that much. He wasn't outright mean or anything, he just didn't spend time with her. Everything was fine until one day..

"Guess what! Look what I can do!" She giggled as she dragged Sam closer. Intrigued, Dean came over as well, glancing over his little brother's shoulder. She closed her Y/E/C eyes, and when she opened them again they were like a sea of ink. Dean grabbed Sam and pulled him back, shoving the little girl to the floor. Her eyes quickly went back to normal but they were filled with tears. "W-what's wrong?" She asked.

"You're some sort of demon freak! Stay the hell away from me and my brother!" Dean shouted at her. Bobby soon rushed into the room and went to Y/N's side. She was crying now. Bobby had to explain to the boys how she was indeed, a demon.

It was never the same after that.

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At dinner they ordered take-out from a nearby fast food restaurant. It was quiet. The air was a bit tense, just the sounds of food packages moving around occasionally and beer bottles being set down. She wasn't legally allowed to drink for another six days, but who's counting?

"So, what's it like being a demon? Bein' all grown up now I'm sure you use your bullshit in some way." Dean said casually, a smartass grin on his face. He was taunting her.

She took a deep breath before responding, "It's great, y'know. I live normally. Just like any hunter would." She took another sip of beer and gave a unamused smile.

Dean cleared his throat, taking a swig of beer himself. "Yeah well, I bet your family is scared, huh? Never knowing when you might kill them.." He said coolly. It was such a random comment. He was trying to get a reaction out of her and she knew it. It was making her blood boil.

"Good thing I've never hurt any human before, huh?" She was tense and everybody could tell. Bobby and Sam were allowing the conversation to continue, cautiously glancing at her to make sure she was alright.

She's not sure exactly when the argument escalated but it did. They were yelling at each other and she was pissed. He brought up a time when she got violent, and for some reason he was so hell bent on bringing up her family. God, it infuriated her! She screamed at him, "Good thing I don't have a family to kill! Nobody has to worry about fucking shit!" She then stormed out and sat on the porch, trying to control her breathing.

Shortly after her, Sam walked out. "Hey, you okay?" He said quietly as he sat down next to her. She scoffed and nodded. "Yeah, golden." It was quiet for a moment. "We don't have much family either. Our dad is.. who knows where, and our mom is dead." He said quietly. She glanced over at him and smiled softly, "Yeah, but you have each other. I got no one." Her voice was gentle. Sam wrapped an arm around her and sighed, "You have me."

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Bobby had taken them to a playground for her seventh birthday. He was trying to distract her from the thought of her dad. The boys had been staying with Bobby for a year now, Dean was thirteen years old and Sammy was nine. Sam and her were still okay, despite his older brother's wishes. Her, Sam and Dean were at the top of the tallest slide and she was yelling for Bobby to watch her go down.

"Bobby! Bobby! Look at me! Watch!" She squealed excitedly. She was such a bubbly kid. Bobby looked over and smiled. "Go! C'mon now." He cheered her on the best he could. She was giggling and as she was about to go down she felt the wind knock out of her. Before she knew it she was falling down to the ground, and then It went blank.

She woke up moments later to Bobby and Sam next to her, helping her up. She was crying hard. Bark and dirt covered her new "birthday dress" and she was bleeding from scrapes all over. Sam hugged her tightly as she cried while Bobby scolded Dean for pushing her.

"I got you, it's- it's okay, Y/N. I'm here." Sam said, squeezing her tighter.

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She was in the Impala with the boys on a hunting trip. The only reason she was brought along - and the only reason she agreed - was because they suspected it was demons. She was in the backseat with her earbuds in, listening to Taylor Swift to block out whatever the hell Dean was listening to.

It was night time when they arrived in Colorado. They were in a small town, a rather trashy town to say the least. They booked a motel room because, as Dean said, "We aren't gonna book two rooms and change routine just 'cause you wanna feel special, sweetheart. Suck it up."

She set her stuff down by the couch while Sam went to shower. Dean grabbed a beer and made himself comfortable on his bed. He turned on the T.V and started watching a show she couldn't care less about. She made a makeshift bed on the sofa and laid down. She was exhausted.

When Sam came out of the shower, Dean went in. She cursed him under her breath for not letting her shower first.

"Hey, earth to Y/N." Sam said, waving his hand In front of her. She snapped out of her thinking and gave an awkward laugh. "Sorry, I was just zoning out." She rubbed the back of her neck. He ruffled her hair as he walked past and smiled. "Yeah, I noticed. Take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch." She rolled her eyes at the suggestion, "No. I'm fine, Sammy." They bickered about it for a minute before Dean stepped out of the shower. "She gets the couch, Sam. End of discussion."

The room was filled with tension and she told Sam she was gonna clean up really quick. She went into the bathroom and showered. The water was cold, Dean purposefully using as much warm water as he could. When she was finished, she wrapped herself in a towel and peeked out the bathroom door. "Sammy," She said sweeter than usual, catching both the boy's attention, "Can you please grab me a shirt? I kinda forgot one." He smiled and nodded, "No problem." He reached into a bag and grabbed a t-shirt. Once he gave it to her she retreated back into the bathroom. Her face was flushed and she felt like an idiot. What the fuck was that, Sammy, can you pretty please grab me a shirt? She mocked herself, Sounded like you were trying to fuck him, Jesus.

She left the bathroom and made her way over to the couch. Dean stared at her the whole time, making her slightly uncomfortable. "Can I help you?" She said, more attitude in her tone than she intended. Dean gave a tight smile back. "You're wearing my shirt." He said calmly. For some reason, everything he did seemed to irritate her. "Oh, boo-hoo. Cry about it. It's just a shirt." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Don't give me attitude, I'm just pointing It out." He winked at her, a grin on his face. Is this fucker serious right now? She thought to herself. "Fucking. Gross." She said as she peeled the shirt from her body, leaving herself in nothing but sweats and a bra. She tossed the shirt at him and flipped him off, "Go bang a bartender or something, don't flirt with me." She scoffed and shook her head, "I might kill you, remember?" The room went silent as she lay down on the couch, quickly falling into an uncomfortable sleep.

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"Rise and shine, doll face! We got work to do." Dean announced as he opened the curtains to the motel window, the bright sunlight causing her to cringe. She forced herself up and immediately noticed a new face.

"Who the fuck is that?" She said bluntly, staring at the man.

"I'm Castiel, the Winchesters guardian angel. Nice to meet you." He said almost robot-like as he stuck his hand out to shake hers. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head, going over to the coffee machine and pouring herself a cup. Castiel tilted his head and quirked a brow at the brothers. "Was I inappropriate?" He questioned. Sam quickly answered before Dean could, "No, she's just not a morning person." Castiel seemed to accept this answer and remained seated.

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"Fucking bitch!" She yelled out as the demon sliced her chest, throwing her to the floor. It grabbed her by her throat and squeezed, nearly crushing it before chucking her to the wall.

She got into the predicament because she was playing bait. "A demon can't kill you, so just go in there and distract him while we figure something out." Dean explained to her. She had rolled her eyes and agreed, now wishing she hadn't.

"Not so strong now, are you, little girl?" The vessel cooed, making her teeth grind. She flung herself forward and shoved it to the ground, her eyes pooled with black. She heard a gunshot as she fell to the ground with it, but she didn't care, she was determined to kill this demon.

Suddenly, after tearing it apart, she was pulled off of It. She went to attack whatever the fuck interrupted her but she was quickly soothed by Sam's voice. 'Hey, calm down. Shh.." He whispered in her ear. Her muscles relaxed and she exhaled, her eyes returning to normal. "Fuck, we didn't mean to shoot you. Dean, wheres Cas?" Sam asked urgently. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and she realized that she was the one who got shot. The bullet went in right by her hip, the soft flesh around it soaked in blood. She couldn't make out what the boys were arguing about, but before she knew it she was laying flat on the ground while Dean tried to remove the bullet from her side. Sam was above her, definitely talking to her but she couldn't hear him. Black spots formed in the corners of her eyes and soon it consumed her.

She was out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She woke up in the motel bed, a groan leaving her throat. Both of the brothers perked up and looked over at her. Sam rushed to your side and began rambling, asking if you were alright and such. Her headache was banging against her temples and she shut her eyes tight. "Sam, shut up. I'm fine." She said sternly, quickly silencing the younger Winchester. Dean cocked a brow, "He's just making sure you're okay. Son of a bitch shot you, be grateful he gives a damn." Dean all but nearly yelled, his tone clearly pissed off. "Dean, shut the fuck up. I'm not in a mood to bitch with you right now." She snapped back, pushing herself up out of bed. She had bruising underneath each of her eyes, it was mild but it was there. Her forehead was scratched and she had a long incision down her chest. It felt like the wounds were burning through her clothes and It just pissed her off more.

Pulling her out of her thoughts, Dean shouted at her. "I'm sick and tired of you thinking you're some sort of fucking god because you're a demon. Get off your fucking high horse and be grateful we patched your ass up!" His brows were furrowed and his fists were balled up, his knuckles white. She grit her teeth and shoved him back. "It's your fucking job." She said as he banged against the wall. "Your job is to protect people, whether it be me or Sammy. Don't give me the "be grateful" speech when you aren't appreciative of shit!" She yelled back at him.

He sprang forward, not knowing what came over him. He slapped her so hard across the face her mind shook. "Good thing you're not a person. You're a disgusting fucking demon, sweetheart!" He chuckled dryly, "We should have left you for dead."

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It's been hours since she's been back at the motel. She checked her phone and it was nearing three in the morning. 2:37 AM. Great. She laughed to herself. She was freezing, the cold wind and rain chilling her to the bone.

By the time she made it to the bus stop, there was only an hour left until it took off. She sat down on a bench, the warm heaters inside the building making her head lull back. She closed her eyes and exhaled.

"5;00 AM Bus to South Dakota Leaving In Five Minutes." The intercom said, waking her up. She hopped on the bus and made herself comfortable in a seat closer to the front. She would be back home within a few hours.

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When she returned home, her clothing was still damp and she looked pretty.. rough. She quickly made her way past Bobby, and into her bedroom. She changed into a new set of clothes and took a deep breath. She knew the boys would be home soon, so she had to figure out a way to explain the situation to-

"Are you alright?" Bobby yelled through the door, knocking quickly before opening it. She smiled at his familiarity, the comfort of being home. He quickly rushed over to her and grabbed her face. "Who in bloody hell laid a hand on my kid?" He said through gritted teeth. She just shrugged and waved his hand away, sighing. "Hunts are rough." She remarked dryly. Bobby exhaled and turned her head to the side, not caring that she waved him off. "Only a demon would hit a woman like this." He said coldly and a part of her inside smiled.

Who's the demon now, De?

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"De! De! Look at what I drew for you!" She said, wobbling around as she ran up to him with a picture in hand. It was Deans thirteenth birthday. He was waiting for his dad at the kitchen table. He was supposed to come.

The picture was in bright colors and it read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEDE!!" In big pink letters. There was a cake drawing on it with three candles, she explained It was for the three of them. "One is for you, the red one! See, see! The green one is for Sammy, because he really likes trees! And- and the pink one-" Dean cut her off, "I don't care! Get your stupid ass picture away from me and stop calling me that!" He shouted as he grabbed the paper and ripped it, throwing the two halves back at her in little crumpled balls. Her eyes watered and she nodded, picking up the scraps. "I'm sorry, De.." She said quietly, and he pushed her hard. "Don't fucking call me that!" He yelled.

"Do not cuss at her like that, boy!" Bobby had said when he came in, yelling at Dean. She ran to her room and cried.

She couldn't stop crying.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the boys got home Bobby immediately approached them. Dean was prepared for Bobby's wrath. How he would yell at him for laying a hand on her.

"You boys! I swear to God! You need to take better care of her, that evil creature got 'er good! Cut her up and slapped her hard." Bobby said with the shake of his head. Dean's eyebrows quirked in confusion, cautiously answering, "The demon slapped her?" Sam glanced down at his brother and shook his head. "Who else woulda done it, Dean? Monsters are sick people.." Bobby said before waving the boys off and walking away.

Before Sam or Dean could say anything, Y/N appeared in the doorway, mimicking Bobby's voice.

"Only a demon would hit a woman like this." She said with a smug grin. Dean's eyes darted towards her and he seethed. "Bullshit. He didn't say that." Y/N just smiled, walking over to him and placing a hand on his chest. Sam raised a brow, a bit antsy. Dean's heartbeat was racing. He cheeks grew flushed and she just chuckled softly. Her hand trailed up Dean's collar and found its way to his cheek, cupping it gently.

"Only a demon, De."

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A/N : That's the end of part one! I wrote this all in one sitting and I didn't exactly proof read, so let me know If there are any mess ups! I hope you enjoyed :)

LETTING ALL READERS KNOW - The next part will most likely be more spicy than this so any minors reading - Mature audiences only

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any rec's feel free to send them over :)

[bullsandthebones]

"Car Lights" Pt2

Billy Hargrove x Male Reader

Fem Aligned DNI

Content Warning: Homophobia, Bullying, Rumor Spreading, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Mention of Cigarettes, Descriptions of Panic Attacks, We also have Hurt/Comfort that I didn't mean to add but yk, Reader gets beat to shit, Toxic Love, Slurs Mentioned

you did this to yourselves. repent for your sins however you deem fit. also I had just been watching A Court of Fey & Flowers before this so the wording has become regal, I apologize. I hurt myself with this as well so have fun.

Three weeks. Three full weeks had passed before you went back to school.

A fateful Friday, the day of your return, was also the day of an important basketball game, one that determined if the team would go to the state championships. You returned to school on that day in hopes that the game would overshadow your existence.

You hoped that not even he would notice, you hoped that he would be too focused on practicing to be aware of your presence.

Three weeks of letters being left wedged in your car door. Three weeks of gifts dropped off at your door in the dead of night. Three weeks of calls, three weeks of cigarette butts littering your garden, three weeks of rocks thrown at your window. Three weeks of this, three weeks of that. Three weeks that told you he was going to notice no matter what.

Your arrival was rather unceremonious. Your car sputtered into the parking lot and you slammed the door shut as you walked up to the entrance of the school. You speed walk past a group of teens chattering about in the lot, keeping your head down.

You had almost made it to your first class successfully, but you heard someone call your name before you could slip into the door. Panic arose in your chest, clutching your lungs and your heart, making you light headed and wobbly. Your breathing quickened as you slowly turned around.

A sea of eyes looked at you and the whispers began. A glance here, a cupped hand to an ear there, they all knew.

And they were all staring at you.

Your skin felt feverish, but you felt a chill run down your spine. You were freezing cold but burning hot at the same time. Your hands begin shaking as your eyes dart around in an attempt to find who called your name.

When they land on him, confusion and apprehension fills you. The former proclaimed "King of Hawkins" was rapidly approaching you, a nervous look in his eyes as he realized his mistake in calling out your name. He quickly grabbed onto your arm and led you to an empty classroom, flipping off anyone who made remarks about the scene.

Once he closed the door, he let out a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get everyone's attention."

Steve rests a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you, but you flinch away. You've heard about what they do to people like you in towns like this. He quickly retracts his hand and holds both of them up in surrender, not wanting to freak you out.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, we're on the same team." He gestures vaguely as he speaks, but the way he says it hints at something more than him being an ally.

Your eyebrows furrow in utter confusion. Steve Harrington, a queer? You motion for him to continue speaking as you relax your tense stance a bit.

"I thought you might-", he pauses, thinking carefully about his next choice of words, " I thought you might want a friend. I-in a situation like this, you know?"

You regard Steve carefully. His posture, his facial expression, his everything. He feels genuine, and for the first time in three weeks, you relax your whole body, almost collapsing into him. Steve catches your body, helping you stay upright.

"Yes, I.. I would like a friend." Your voice was raspy and broken due to lack of use. Steve just holds you as you attempt to regain your composure and clear your thoughts. He seems awkward but not willing to pull away, as though if he moves you'll break and crumble into millions of pieces. Ones that, try as he might, he could never put back together, not correctly. Not perfectly. Not you.

Unbeknownst to you, or to Steve, a certain blonde haired boy watched you get dragged off into that classroom.

×××

Rumors had spread about the school like wildfire.

"I heard that Steve Harrington kissed that little queer guy!"

"Well I heard they hooked up in the bathroom!"

"No way, Steve Harrington wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole!"

They all got back to you by the end of the day, Steve reassured you that rumors wouldn't deter him from sticking by your side. "I've been through worse.", was what he told you, a scary look in his eyes as he said it.

You had said some goodbyes at the entrance of the school before you both parted ways to your respective vehicles. You had majorly relaxed since the beginning of the day, no one dared to touch you with Steve by your side, and most people were too excited by the game to care. Even as the sky began to darken and the crisp autumn weather grew colder for the night, you were almost at ease.

Almost.

Hairs pricked at the nape of your neck, you felt like you were being watched as you opened your car door. Most people weren't in the lot, opting to stay and get ready for the game, so no one should be watching you. You gulp, attempting to push the feeling down as you clamber into the car.

Before you can fully sit down, a hand grabs your arm roughly and pulls you out. You fall to the ground with the force, looking up to see the one guy you had been avoiding for weeks. "Billy, please-"

Loud, howling laughter surrounds you as the rest of the basketball team steps out of seemingly nowhere. You knew what was coming, you just weren't expecting it from him.

A glimpse of pain flashes over Billy's eyes, before turning to rage. You see him wind back his leg, not even registering the blow to your side until he does it again. Cheering sounds from all around you, the situation feeling so surreal. Billy kicks and stomps you, shouting nonsense and slurs. You don't hear it, you're focused on the feeling of blood leaking from your nose and he breaks it with his fist. You don't attempt to fight back, not seeing the use in it, you can't win a fight against Billy. You could never fight him in the first place.

You accepted the beating, knowing that, unfortunately, your feelings towards the boy couldn't change.

You loved him. You loved him even though each kick to your ribs made a sharp cracking sound. You loved him even though blood was leaking from your broken nose down to your busted lips. You loved him even though you could taste blood in your throat and in your mouth.

When the jeering quieted down and the jocks felt as though the show had gotten boring, the reminder of your place in society had come to a stop. They dispersed without even a second thought, not even a glance back at you, at your body that had curled up in on itself as soon as they started leaving.

Billy stood back for a moment, a look of pure disgust and remorse adorning his features. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but when he saw you tremble and cough up blood, a tear fell from his eye and he briskly walked back into the school.

Leaving you there.

Alone.

On the freezing cold concrete that welcomed you as you lost any sort of consciousness that you were desperately clinging onto.

[immortaljai]

Here me out on zoro and luffy Part 2

Fluff, Comfort, reunion, slight angst, crack, cute shit. 777 words.

It had been a total of 3 months since you last saw the straw hats, you hadn’t changed your name- you couldn’t considering you were a still wanted pirate. Luckily the island you were on didn’t have many marines and if you anted you could take them out. According too word on the sea the luffy and his crew were looking for you. Rolling your eyes as you could practically here his voice screaming “Once a strawhat always a strawhat”

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts as you removed yourself from the bed you were laying in in a slightly dingey hotel that didn’t cost much preparing too fetch you some food (luffy really rubbed off on you huh) looking outside your window the sun setting quite nicely. As you moved out you saw a few ships arriving close too deck rolling your eyes you continued on your way, thinking “as if they could find me”

On the Going Merry

Luffy was pacing he was hungry and he was sure he would find you somewhere on this island…as if the other eight he swore you were on, but he digresses he still held his smile though impatiently (but hiding it) tapping his foot, Zoro however noticed it, with a roll too his eyes he stood too his captain walking too him “Its gona be fine she’s probably here..” zoro quite literally known for being nonchalant was freaked out the first day you were “missing” he didn’t think you would take it so seriously..when he said leave he was honestly trying too call your bluff.

Little did you know they went too high and lows too find you completely ignoring the marines and ruffing up them just too see if you were on and island..its comedic really.

As soon as the ship was posted up by the dock, Luffy lumped down landing on his feet-nearly falling as Nami smacked the back of his head, while Sanji was pouting seeing his crewmates wanting too eat other foods, knowing they needed too stock up.

You were simply chilling had a full dinner with soups that the nice people prepared for you since you ran out a couple of bandits, you here your name being called and the door slamming open, looking up you nearly spit out the food you had been chewing seeing luffy with the rest of the crew a small huff came from him before he broke out into a smile completely launching himself at you. As you two fell backwards you groaned out a “Get awf ME!” but he wasn’t listening arms wrapping around you several times spilling out “M’ so sorry- you gotta come back- is-is that steak can I have it?” a small smile playing at your face missing his clingy self before saying “OKAY” and he stilled looking at you a smile on his face still.

Softly saying your name and standing up as if you weigh nothing, you feel bodys on you the rest of the straw hats squishing you in a hug before nami moved back and slapped the back of your head a scowl on her face “YOU WERE MISSING LONGER THEN ME!” was all you heard but you were distracted rubbing the back of your head luffy still hasn’t unhanded you, while zoro just stared unsure of what too do before butting in and quite literally snatching you from luffy pressing you too his chest and sitting down at your booth.

Nami had a small smirk on her face that said “Well well well..”Zoro simply rolled his eyes and removed you from his lap and let you eat luffy squishing you as he slid too your left chatter soon starting up as they asked you questions about how you evaded them for so long a embarrassed look on your face as you explained they laughed at the little mishaps that happened but it soon died down as they turned too eat chatting amongst them self’s as if it never happened.

A small smile paying at your lips before feeling zoro and luffy both lean down and actually apologize for the first time- you decided that you would only forgive them with time and then apologized for scaring them and leaving. That made luffy laugh and kiss your cheek completely making you freeze as zoro chuckled looking away his hand on your thigh, as Sanji rolled his eyes “This is no time too be lovey dovey” Making Zoro scowl “Just because you are an unlovable cook doesn’t mean let it out on us” As a argument ensued between them you couldn’t help but laugh

Yeah you were gonna be just fine.

PHEW THIS TOOK FOREVER TOO THINK OF, idk if its better then the first one or not but the first was just a thought lol.

Tags:

@natalieisfreeziing

@b0nn1e

@heartsforseo

@art3misa635

@missprincesscreampuff

@sparklyphantom

@sorasolarium

@leiakim99,

Thank you for reading xo

[olliethescribe]

oh boy it’s @tmntaucompetition propoganda! Warren doesn’t know how he got roped into doing another one of these but hey, at least he has Ron with him this time

***

“Oh, god, there’s a lot of ya…”

Warren looked around at the vast sea of turtles that surrounded him. There were hundreds of them and only one him, with his turtles walking ahead of him and freaking out over their many alternate selves. They chatted excitedly, Donnie taking DNA samples of his duplicates when no one was looking. 

Warren’s pirate costume that Leo convinced him was a fashion must for the competition itched. The slider had joked about Warren having two peg legs, much to Warren’s chagrin. Yep, having a normal one. He sighed quietly to himself. At least there weren’t anymore horses to kick him out during round one like that first time. 

Beside the cloaked anchorman stood his husband, Ron, the magician not bothering to cloak among so many mutants. Didn’t help that plenty of the turtles they didn’t know were glaring at him. Like they knew something he didn’t. So Ron kept his gaze to his own kids and fiddled with his bandana for his own pirate costume, his talking parrot sadly unable to make it and left at home with the other birds for the weekend. 

“You think there’s any more like us here?” Ron said, looking around and scanning the crowd in short bursts. It was always lonely at these competitions. He had managed to bond with Donnie last time, even managed to make it past a round, but to be in a room without any other versions of himself felt odd. So many universes and yet there were barely anymore of him. 

And then he saw them. Off in a corner, away from everyone else, sat another version of himself with a Warren to boot. Above them hung a banner that said ‘Mutini’s AU’. Maybe things were turning around after all.

“Warren, look!” 

Ron pointed but Warren wasn’t paying attention. In fact, his husband was looking up at a massive board filled with brackets as far as the eye could see. The newscaster was grimacing as his eyes wandered to where ‘No Crime* Only Brooches’ was placed. 

“Casey’s gonna revoke our ally card.”  

The newscaster swallowed his nerves as he shook off the feeling of impending doom. They’ll be fine! They were always fine! Totally… totally fine… 

He looked around while taking a breath, the familiar reassuring squeeze of Ron’s hand over his calming his nerves. In front of him were his kids, all three of them. Wait, three? Oh god, oh god, oh god!

“Wait, where’s Donnie?!”

“He saw some version of himself with wings and a tutu and went running off. Don’t worry about it, pops, he’ll be back.” Leo fished an Tracking Tag out of his side bag and smiled. “Plus if he can track us everywhere then I can track him.”

He went to track the other tag and heard a beep right beside him. Only to look down and immediately find it. On the floor. With no Donnie attached. 

“Uh oh…” 

Ron and Warren exchanged a weary look. 

“Splinter’s gonna kill us.”

[trensu]

Here is the second chapter of the newest installment in the Hawkins Halfway House series, which I've named Tradition on ao3. (I haven't posted this chapter on ao3 but it'll be up before end of day today, I promise) It's still gonna have the Hawkins Halfway House for Homeless Horrors tag here just to keep the tracking easier for you guys.

ETA: this has now been posted on ao3!

--

It was hard to meet people as a queer man in rural Indiana. Harder still when the ‘man’ part of that description was…malleable. As if that wasn’t enough of a challenge, it was far more difficult when the queer man in question wasn’t particularly interested in sex.

Sirens used what people would consider ‘sex appeal’ to attract humans but that was only because sailors, having spent months at sea surrounded by the same faces, tended to desire newer, prettier faces that could be convinced to warm their beds. A siren’s song created an illusion of something a human could not resist. Sirens themselves, as far as Eddie had learned, had no real sex drive and not only couldn't copulate with humans, but also didn’t procreate in a way humans would recognize.

Eddie, however, was a freak of magical happenstance so he really couldn’t tell if his own minimal sex drive was due to his siren heritage or if it was a trait uniquely Eddie. He didn’t mind kissing and petting his partners. He actually quite enjoyed it, but things got awkward when his chosen partner would start fumbling at the fastenings of his pants. He’d have to redirect their hands and attention elsewhere before they encountered something unusual.

In the end it didn’t really matter how Eddie came about his lack of sexual appetite. It always resulted with a lonely Eddie after his partners finally had enough of his reluctance and left him. So when a charming man with gorgeous eyes and kissable lips seemed perfectly happy with Eddie’s boundaries, Eddie was over the moon.

He had been such an idiot.

“I could do other things,” Eddie told the man shyly the first time they met, after taking the man’s hands from where they’d wandered to the fly of his pants and placing them back on his waist.

“I’m sure you could, baby,” the man said in a way that made Eddie shiver pleasantly. “But we don’t have to do anything at all if you’re not feeling it right now.”

Eddie scoffed.

“This is the whole reason people come to these clubs,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes. He was lonely. He wanted company and some physical closeness. “Besides, I’m very good with my mouth.”

“With lips like those, I believe you, but I’d love to get to know someone as beautiful as you in other ways, too.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, surprised and stupidly susceptible to flattery.

“Mmhm. I’m Billy. Why don’t I give you my number and we can get together for coffee tomorrow instead?” Billy smiled, all gleaming white teeth and fluttery lashes.

How could Eddie say no to that?

So, because Eddie was lonely and dumb, he said yes. They went for coffee, during which Eddie was the center of Billy’s undivided attention. When Billy asked him out to dinner, Eddie said yes. Their pretty waitress spent the whole time flirting with Billy, but all of Billy’s sweet words were given to Eddie. When Billy invited Eddie to his place for a movie night, Eddie said yes.

Halfway through the movie, when Eddie was in Billy’s lap, kissed breathless and squirming, Eddie decided he would say yes when Billy’s hands wandered. Instead, Eddie’s muscles locked when Billy tried for the button of Eddie’s jeans. Billy pulled back to look at him and Eddie squeezed his eyes shut.

“No, it’s fine,” Eddie said.

He could weave a subtle little song so Billy wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Sure, he hadn’t sung since he was a teenager, but it must be instinctual to him as a siren, right? He could make it work.

He could make sure Billy enjoyed himself. Then Billy would continue to hold him and shower him with honeyed words. They could keep having dinner dates and movie nights and things would be fine. Good. Maybe even better.

“Go ahead,” Eddie insisted.

“Baby, do you want to?” Billy asked, voice soft and coaxing. Eddie wanted to say yes. He’d done sexual stuff before and enjoyed it well enough. He could figure this out, too, and enjoy it. Probably. If he had to.

“It’ll be fun,” Eddie said. For you, it’ll be fun for you was better left unsaid. Billy didn’t move. Eddie tried to dip into another kiss to break the sudden awkward atmosphere. Billy’s hands cupped his face, halting him midway.

“Eddie, look at me,” Billy said.

Hesitantly, Eddie did as he was told. He liked to believe that Billy’s beautiful blue eyes reflected the color of the ocean Billy grew up alongside. Not that Eddie would know; he’d never been near any oceans. Eddie loved having Billy’s ocean eyes on him, normally. Now he was afraid to see them dim in disappointment.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Billy said. He sounded so sincere, Eddie cringed. Billy said that now, but would he say it again in three days? In two weeks? Months later? Better to break his own heart now, Eddie thought.

“What if I never want to?” Eddie asked through a lump in his throat.

“Then we never will and I get to keep you as my boyfriend,” Billy said with his charming smile.

“Boyfriend?” Eddie asked, stunned. Billy’s smile grew wider.

“Yeah. That alright with you?”

And foolish, needy Eddie laughed out a yes and pulled beautiful Billy into a kiss.

After that, Eddie began slipping vague details about himself into their conversations where before he had been reticent. He told Billy how he worked at a community center that helped the disenfranchised.

“Where’s the community center? Would I know it?”

“Nah, it’s a tiny nonprofit out of town.”

Eddie told him about his annual fishing trips with his uncle.

“I used to go fishing with my dad. Where did you go for it? Maybe we’ve bumped into each other before.”

“No, you probably wouldn’t have seen me. We switch it up every year to keep things interesting,” Eddie lied through his teeth.

They always went to Lake Michigan, but it was a special time with his uncle. As smitten as he was, he didn’t want to have to share those moments with Billy. At least not yet, Eddie had thought to himself, maybe a couple years down the line. Instead, he distracted Billy by telling him about Jeff, his best friend since childhood.

“That must be nice. I never had one of those. When did you guys meet? Was it here?”

“Man, I don’t even remember. It was so long ago! We must’ve met through family friends or something since I was homeschooled for a while,” Eddie half-lied.

He had been homeschooled when he hadn’t yet learned how to wear a more human guise, but he remembered perfectly the circumstances under which he and Jeff met. Jeff had been the first person to ever say Eddie’s name right. It had taken him a few tries, but he’d nailed it in the end. That wasn’t something Eddie would ever forget.

Eddie was so pleased by how eager Billy was to learn more about him. He asked questions about every tidbit of information Eddie slipped him. Eddie believed Billy was genuinely interested in him. He was too charmed to ever take note of the kinds of questions Billy would specifically ask.

Two months after their first encounter, Billy showed up to their dinner date wearing something new. It was a cheap ball chain necklace. From it hung what looked to Eddie like the end of a cat’s teaser toy. The feathers, however, looked nothing like the brightly colored plastic ones found on those toys. They looked like real wing feathers, with strong, black shafts and well-groomed vanes and barbs. The feathers were a very dark red.

“My little sister made it for me,” Billy said when he caught Eddie looking.

“You have a sister? You’ve never mentioned her,” Eddie said, surprised that it hadn't come up before. Billy nodded easily.

“She’s a lot younger than me. I get overprotective,” Billy said with a laugh. “Half the time, people assume she’s my kid. She hates it.”

“Will I get to meet her?” Eddie asked hopefully. “I’m great with kids.”

“I don’t know,” Billy said teasingly. “Will I get to meet your family, too?”

Eddie, senseless in his infatuation, said yes.

He was met with resistance from the start. He figured Uncle Wayne would be reluctant because he was a solitary man; he was never really comfortable around new people. He didn’t expect Jeff, his oldest friend, to flatly refuse.

“Why not?” Eddie balked, stung by the rejection. Jeff shook his head.

“I don’t like him,” he said.

“You haven’t even met him yet,” Eddie pouted.

“No, but that shirt you wore the other day was his, wasn’t it?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Eddie asked, exasperated.

“It had a stink on it,” Jeff said.

“What, you don’t like his detergent?” Eddie asked, purposely obtuse.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Jeff said irritably.

“Then be more specific! Was he born under an unlucky star? Is he possessed by a malevolent spirit? What did you get from the goddamn shirt, Jeff?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know what it was but it wasn’t good, and I don’t like it,” Jeff raised his voice. Jeff never raised his voice.

“For all you know, he could’ve just bumped into someone that got themselves cursed. You know that shit clings,” Eddie said. Jeff was one of the most amiable people Eddie knew. He didn’t understand where this was coming from, and it hurt. “C’mon, Jeff. Just this one time? He’s important to me and he wants to meet you because he knows you’re my best friend.”

“No, Eddy,” Jeff said, almost sadly, but not relenting even an inch. It pissed Eddie off.

“Fine,” Eddie spat. “Fine! Then you can be on babysitting duty while he’s visiting instead.”

“You’re bringing him here?” Jeff asked, appalled.

“Yes! Just because you don’t want to meet him doesn’t mean he shouldn’t get to meet Chrissy and Uncle Wayne.”

“Dustin and El live here. They still can’t keep their human shapes consistently! You’re going to let some random human–”

“He’s not a random human! He’s my boyfriend,” Eddie interrupted. “But I’m not an idiot, Jeff, of course I’m not going to let him see Dustin and El. They’ll be upstairs while he’s here. House can hide the upper level from him easily. And since you’ll be watching them, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Jeff had conceded with a scowl. He made sure to tell Eddie he was doing it for the kids. Eddie had sneered at him. The two didn’t speak for the days leading up to the planned dinner. It was the longest fight they’d ever had.

When Billy visited for dinner, House looked like a small, cozy one-story home. Billy was his usual charming self. He wore the necklace his sister had given him that popped nicely against the light button-down he’d worn for the occasion. He’d brought Eddie flowers and some cupcakes from the local bakery as a dessert to share as well.

Uncle Wayne didn’t speak much, but that wasn’t unusual for him. Between Eddie and Chrissy, they were able to keep conversation flowing throughout dinner. After Billy left for the night, Eddie had eagerly asked two of his most favorite people what they thought of him.

“He smiles an awful lot,” Wayne said.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed like a sap. He didn’t notice the suspicious, unhappy slant to Wayne’s mouth. Chrissy’s smile, when he asked her, was wobbly but he hadn’t noticed that either.

“Does he make you happy, Eddy?” she asked him. Eddie nodded, tugging a lock of hair over his face to hide his lovestruck smile.

“He does, Chris,” Eddie confessed. “He really, really does.”

That time he did see how her expression wobbled. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. They stood there for a minute, swaying in the quiet.

“I don’t know about him, Eddy,” Chrissy said, tightening her grip when he tried to pull back. “I love you so much. I want you to be happy. I don’t know about him, but I trust you.”

At the time, the brief sting of Chrissy’s doubt was easily assuaged by her faith in him. He felt relieved and hopeful. Much later, he got sick with shame whenever he remembered that conversation.

[epickiya722]

You know what, seeing someone say Audrey is a "bitch" stirred some unwanted feelings in me because rewatching the first movie and comparing her to other Disney antagonists, Audrey isn't all that bad to me.

At most, what she did was make snide comments and that's about it.

She never tried to sabotage the VKs to send them back to the Isle. She only tried to make Ben jealous after he (being spelled) practically humiliated her in front of the whole school by declaring his love for another girl.

And she wasn't wrong about being cautious around the VKs (practically Mal) because Ben did get spelled, did he not! Didn't Mal use magic to manipulate Jane?

Even onscreen, we don't even see her be mean to other Auradonian kids.

And at the end of the first movie, she was the one to have a change of heart and even danced with the VKs.

And the thing about the Family Day scene, I don't even blame Audrey for not wanting her grandmother to talk Mal. I wouldn't either. That's the same girl who took her boyfriend away, the same boyfriend she known for years given the books and photos seen in the third movie.

Mal is the same girl who happens to be the daughter of Maleficent. THE FAIRY WHO SPELLED AUDREY'S MOTHER WHEN SHE WAS JUST A BABY TO HAVE A SLEEP-LIKE DEATH. Mind you, Maleficent probably did it because she could, not because she was hurt about being invited to a christening. Isn't Maleficent the "Mistress of Evil"? You really think a villain with that title would be like "woe is me, you didn't invite me, wah, *sad tears*"? Nah, she just wanted to cause some mischief. Look, some villains just want to be evil and cruel without any reasons, no sad backstory required. (Keep in mind, Descendants was following the stories of the animated films.)

Also, to me, watching the Family Day scene, Mal looked almost smug, kinda... it just didn't come off like she was being nice when Audrey told her grandmother not talk to her. Queen Leah didn't freak out until Mal made that face, probably getting flashbacks to when Maleficent cursed her daughter.

Granted, the VKs did deserve to have a chance to prove they're not like their parents and I like the VKs, I do. (In fact, most of my faves are the VKs, Sea Three included.)

But to me, Audrey really isn't all that bad that some people like to say she is. She was snarky, but let's not sit here and act like she was the only character doing it (just saying, she left no crumbs). She was cautious and had every right to be. But she never tried to sabotage anyone and she isn't shown to be mean to other characters until the third movie, but that was more so out of anger (after all the wrong she went through) and being corrupted by the scepter.

Collectively, throughout the three movies, the worst Audrey ever has done was steal the crown and scepter and use Maleficent's magic.

But not to excuse her actions, but I'm blaming Auradon for that one.

Why do they only have one guy holding down the museum?! Why?! Makes no sense!! Twice, twice someone managed to get into the museum undetected and the second time a lone person succeeded getting not one, but two items!!

Why was Maleficent's scepter not properly cased?! Oh, they be making sure FG's wand is safe and secured, but knowing how powerful Maleficent's scepter is they just leave out in the open! Just stupid! Stupid!

Expected though, since someone had the "brilliant" idea to have the barrier open and a bridge form through a button... but that's for another day...