#i set him to use force powers until he runs out of force points

[hiddenbeks]

more than a month after my previous kotor update i am happy to announce that i have finally met jolee and had him join me <3

[sv3t1ana]

SYNOPSIS ᯓ Choso Kamo is a waste of your time. A temp intern with no real skills, constantly fumbling through tasks he barely understood. You've tried to get rid of him, but the agency won't take him back until his contract is done. You've been treating him like the extra he is, deciding that if he's going to waste your time, he might as well make himself useful.

PAIRING ᯓ Intern! Choso x Executive fem! Reader

WARNINGS ᯓ dubcon, office AU, degrading (really not that bad tho), he calls reader "ma'am," reader is mean to him (lmao sorry), reader is a workaholic, choso sucks at his job, power dynamics, choso has tattoos, obedience, use of "good boy," oral (m and f receiving), size kink, fingering (f receiving), punishment, unprotected p i v sex, begging, sub choso x dom reader?

WORD COUNT ᯓ 3.6k

SERIES ᯓ GOJO ⋮ GETO ⋮ CHOSO

Choso Kamo.

A lowly intern hired into this company, not based on merit, just placed here through a temp agency you signed a contract with a few years ago.

It’s gotten to the point where you tried to get rid of him, calling the agency yourself. That’s right, you took precious time out of your day to get rid of him.

“So, you’re telling me he still has a month here?”

“If you don’t have reasonable grounds to fire him, then yes, he will stay for an additional four weeks.”

You sighed, throwing your head back and tossing your feet up on your mahogany desk.

This intern was going to be the death of you. Seriously. Last week you tasked him with some very simple data visualizations, and he returned a pie chart.

A pie chart.

A single pie chart.

“Kamo, what the fuck is this?”

Choso was completely serious, sitting in the chair across from your desk in your private, sleek office. “It’s a visualization of last quarter’s trends.”

You glanced down, almost jaw-slack in disbelief. There was a big rainbow pie chart, indicating… last quarter’s trends? “Kamo,” you said, voice flat, “this is an abomination.”

You didn’t hold back tearing it apart in front of his face, tossing it on the ground at his feet while you silently pointed toward the door, motioning him to leave. It was sad actually, just a small part of your heart aching at the clueless loser here only because he could pass a drug test. It’s clear he tried, but somehow the dataset became absolutely vile, even after you provided a cleaned one.

It was so fucked up, seriously. As an executive you had meetings on meetings, you barely had time to eat let alone find ways to get Choso fired. Most of your days began and ended sipping caffeine, you even worked on the weekends. And to have this inferior being who can barely copy a few papers ruin your day was just the icing on the cake.

He’d already been here for a month, a temporary contract-to-hire position, (he clearly wasn’t getting hired) and you’ve just been having him run your errands for you.

“I need you to get this dry cleaned.”

“Go to my car and bring me the box of files.”

“Put my mug in the kitchen.”

He was almost like a pet, barely good enough to be named slave as you just ran out the rest of his time here with trivial duties.

It was a hell of a Thursday afternoon, pausing your busy schedule and setting your Microsoft Teams to offline as you waited in your office, blinds closed while you rested your head in your hand, slowly drifting off to sleep until-

BANG!

“Ma’am, I have your lunch,” Choso stood at the doorway dripping wet as he panted out of breath.

The sound of the door slamming open jolted you awake, your heart lurching against your ribs. He stood there, shoulders rising and falling, his shirt soaked through, clinging to his skin like it was painted on.

You blinked, trying to focus on something, anything other than the way his pecs pressed against the damp fabric, the slow drip of rainwater from his hair rolling down the side of his neck.

Absolutely not.

You forced your gaze to his face. He wasn’t even looking at you, too busy trying to catch his breath, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every inhale.

“...Apologies for the late time,” he finally muttered, stepping forward to set the bag of food on your desk.

You stared at him, but truly it wasn’t purposeful, your brain was just lagging, refusing to process anything except fuck, he’s actually kind of-

No. Not happening.

You cleared your throat, reaching for the food like it was going to save you. “You look disgusting,” you muttered, barely glancing up.

He huffed a small laugh, shaking out his sleeves in your pristine office before stepping away, rainwater leaving faint specks on your office floor. He didn’t say anything else. Just turned and walked out.

And yet, you didn’t stop staring until the door clicked shut behind him.

God, at least he’s pretty, too bad he’s useless.

That weekend you didn’t think about him once. Really, you didn’t.

But still, you were restless.

That weekend, you caught yourself checking your phone too often, feeling agitated over things that had nothing to do with work. You opened your email just to have something to do, only to find a message from Choso.

RE: Revised Visualizations

Attached are the updated charts per your feedback. Let me know if further revisions are needed.

Oh.

You clicked the attachment, expecting the same disaster as before.

And, well, of course it still sucked, but it was less awful. He was improving.

You set your laptop aside and rubbed your temples. Maybe you just needed a distraction.

It has been years since you last had one.

Work truly consumed the entirety of you, it was the only thing on your mind. Your laundry constantly piled up, dishes overflowing your sink often because you worked too damn hard.

It’s been so long since you had a boyfriend, not that you were keeping track but it’s been about 2 years, 6 months, and 24 days since you broke up with him. He was too bland, too safe, not exciting enough for you, but at least he was a distraction.

Hm, maybe you found yourself bored again, wanting to feel the adrenaline course your veins with a new love interest, but you just sat alone in your office the following week, sighing as you poked your food with a fork. You had no time for a relationship.

That next week you found your office a complete mess, last week the stakeholders visited, and you had endless meetings, constantly having to prove yourself in your position as a woman to these disgusting old men who only wanted money, it was draining.

Piles of paper scattered your floor, you had no idea which filing cabinet they belonged to. Your desk a mess, too, crowded with too many coffee mugs and random office supplies, where did this shit even originate from?

So, you invited Choso to clean your mess for you. Tasking him to organize the scattered papers covering almost your entire office floor. You watched as he sat on his knees, sleeves rolled up revealing toned forearms littered with tattoos.

“All of these papers are titled about the first quarter’s finances.”

Choso’s voice was steady as he handed you the file, but you barely registered the words.

Because his hands.

Shit.

You didn’t mean to look, didn’t mean to notice how thick and long his fingers were, the way the veins ran up his arms, disappearing beneath the rolled-up sleeves.

You swallowed. Taking the file a little too quickly, clicking your pen aggressively.

He sat on his knees, sorting through the mess you’d left him with, hair falling loose from his buns. Sharp jawline. The slow bob of his throat when he swallowed. The slight furrow in his brow as he focused.

You had to mentally will yourself to tear your eyes away, flipping through the file like your life depended on it. “You probably gave me the wrong one,” you muttered.

He exhaled, running a hand through his bangs and pushing them back for just a second, just long enough for you to notice his dark eyes, furrowed brows, the light sheen of sweat clinging to his temples.

You clicked your pen again, harder this time.

This was just nothing, nothing at all.

You were beginning to get frustrated, really frustrated. Because what the hell is wrong with you?

It’s not just some passing thought or fleeting distraction that can be shaken off with a splash of cold water. It lingered in your mind, the parts of your mind that should be occupied with financial reports and quarterly projections. Every time you saw him, some unwelcome thought wormed its way into your brain, like the way he had a ridiculous devotion to completing the most mundane tasks you assigned him. It’s infuriating, really, because how could you, as an executive, someone that clawed your way to the top of this company, be distracted by the likes of him?

Choso Kamo. A temp. A lowly intern who struggled inputting a SUM function in Excel. There’s about three million YouTube tutorials for that, by the way. This was supposed to be his last week here.

It’s not like you’ve never dealt with useless men before, your job is filled with them. Old, crusty men in ill-fitted suits who pretended you weren’t their intellectual superior. But at least they didn’t invade your mind like this.

And worse? He was so obedient, like some helpless thing always awaiting your instructions. He always called you ma’am, whether out of genuine respect or blind adherence to authority, you didn’t know.

Maybe that’s why, as you sat in your office, hands clenched into fists against your desk, you decide.

If you’re going to suffer through the remaining time of his employment, you might as well make it worth your while.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, rolling your shoulders as you stood from your chair, exiting your office.

“Kamo, my office. Now.”

No explanation. No context. Just a simple demand.

You waited, hearing a hesitant knock at first, light and unsure. It’s the same way he approaches everything, carefully like he’s afraid of stepping out of line.

“Come in.”

Choso enters, standing awkwardly just past the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Close the door.”

He does, albeit clumsily, his fingers fumbling with the handle for a second too long. You watch in silence as he turns his back toward you, shoulders stiff and posture straight as if he’s bracing for reprimand.

Instead of speaking immediately you stood again, walking toward your large office windows that overlooks the rest of the department floor. The blinds are drawn halfway up, letting just enough visibility in for others to see. That won’t do.

One by one, you lowered them, the only noise in the room being the mechanical whir of the blinds. Choso shifted nervously on his feet.

“You’ve been here for almost two months now,” you mused, tone even as you turn to face him fully. “Longer than I would’ve liked, but still.”

Choso nods, saying nothing.

You step closer, crossing the room slow and deliberately. “And despite your many, many failures, you’ve somehow managed to be useful in one way.”

His brows knit together slightly, but he remains silent, waiting.

You tilted your head as if to observe him. His hands are still clasped in front of him, his stance rigid, like he didn’t know whether to be nervous or grateful.

Good.

That mean’s he’ll listen.

You extend a hand, fingers wrapping around the nape of his neck as your thumb traced his jawline.

“You want to be useful, don’t you, Kamo?” Your voice was smooth, measured.

He nods immediately. “Yes, ma’am.”

You dropped your head slightly, “you have…” you sigh, feigning disappointment, “such a bad habit of wasting my time.”

He flinches, subtly, but you saw it.

“I-I’m sorry, ma’am, I-”

You tut, cutting him off. “But I’ve decided something.”

He falls silent again, waiting.

“If you insist on wasting my time, then I’ll run out the rest of yours however I see fit.”

“I don’t understand…” his voice was quiet, more careful.

You laughed softly, reaching behind him to flick the lock on the door. The click is soft but heavy, something final, “you don’t need to.”

You see the way his breath catches. How his fingers tighten into his palm like he’s resisting the urge to fidget. How his pupils dilate just slightly as you eye his figure up and down, like you were a predator sizing up prey.

And he is prey, nervous, uncertain, and pliant.

“You always listen so well,” you muse, talking slow steps to sit back at your desk. “Always so eager to do exactly as I say.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes.

You smile.

“Then be a good boy, Kamo.”

He shudders.

You motion him to your side of the desk. “Take a seat.”

He did so nervously, not expecting you to snap at the ground petitioning him to kneel before you.

“This is your first task, make me cum in 3 minutes or you’re fired.”

Though, this was an objectively easy task for him, you were aroused last night even thinking about it, no idea the state of your cunt currently.

You watched as he sat on his knees before you, inching yourself closer to the edge of your chair while you spread your legs, showcasing your naked center under your skirt.

You could almost hear the thumps of his heart, “aww, don’t be shy, Kamo. You’re running out the clock!” You say playfully.

He nervously looked around him, swallowing hard before licking his lips. His hands traveled up your legs, gripping your thighs to spread you even wider.

You leaned back in your chair, and it was almost as if he attacked you with his tongue like his job depended on it. Because, well, it did.

Inhaling through his nose, he used the flat of his tongue to draw a long, slow stroke along your folds while you exhaled loudly. Quickly, he lapped at you, dipping in your entrance with his tongue before he drew circles with the tip of it on your clit.

You couldn’t help but grip his hair as he worked you, inserting two dept fingers and curling them ever-so-slightly while the lower half of his face was buried in you. And you pulled him closer, tighter to you as you felt him begin to sweat profusely.

It was so cute, really, was he doing this because he wanted to? Or that he didn’t want to lose his job? Surely, he knew he wouldn’t get hired after his contract ran out, right?

“Mmm, one minute, Kamo,” you were breathless, having gone so long without the touch of the opposite sex, either that or Choso finally found something he was good at.

You reached your climax fast, crying out when he quickened his pace, your slick slit gushing out in the palm of his hand while he fucked you through it, gripping the back of his head and practically suffocating him between your thighs.

You gripped his forehead and forcefully shoved him out of you on the edge of overstimulation, leaving him on his hands and knees catching his breath.

You looked over at the digital clock on your computer, “congratulations, you passed!”

He looked up at you, a glossy film of sweat covering his face, or rather, a mix of his sweat and your arousal.

“Stand up.”

He obeyed.

“Look at you,” you tilted your head, eyeing the huge bulge that tented his slacks. “You’re all excited just from eating me out, hm?”

You groped his clothed cock, feeling how big it was under your hands. “Are you ready for your second task?”

You didn’t even give him time to respond before you undid his belt, unzipping his pants and pulling them down boxers included, his thick length popping out.

“If you cum, I’ll punish you.” You began stroking his length, using two hands to jerk him as you spit, using your thumb to spread his pre around his sensitive, engorged tip.

He nearly buckled at the knees, breath quickening and sweat dripping from his temples as he held back. “F-fuck…”

And you gave him no mercy, wetting your lips and pressing light kisses at his tip, squeezing his base with one hand as the other massaged his balls.

He was hunched over, using your desk as purchase while he watched from above as you took only the tip in your warm mouth, spitting on it to use as more lubricant for your hand that tugged him.

You let him out of your mouth slowly, “you look so pathetic,” you mused. “All fucked-out when all I did was lick your tip.”

You watched as his mouth dropped open, using both hands squeezing him tight, jerking him and letting his tip rest on your tongue.

It didn’t take long for him to cum, body convulsing as he struggled to maintain balance, painting your face and tongue with white, ruining your makeup and your tastebuds.

You sat still as he came down from his high, still fully erect in your hands. “You failed.” You said flatly.

He looked at you almost in shock, still out of breath.

“You can leave now,” you started rummaging through your drawers for tissues, wipes, anything to get rid of the horrible artwork left on your face. “Oh, see me in my office first thing tomorrow, for your punishment, of course.”

He didn’t say a word as he took a tissue from you, cleaning himself up before stuffing his still-hard length back in his pants and returning to his desk for the rest of the day.

It was the next day when he entered your office, you noticed the slight bulge in his pants already.

Oh, how faithful he was for you.

You sat on your desk, legs crossed and a bored expression across your face.

Choso averted his gaze, “ma’am, I’m ready to face my punishment.”

It looked like you just fired the man, as if he had a wife and kids at home and you just fired him before the Christmas bonus came in.

“Today you’re going to fuck me.” You said it so blatantly, just putting it out there in the air.

It simmered for a minute, Choso nervously looking around the room to see the blinds barely open. If someone wanted to peak in and see, they would.

“I-I don’t have any condoms,” he checked his pockets like a maniac.

“Just do your best,” you waved your hand, beckoning him to come closer.

His hands traveled your figure, squeezing your breasts over your tight top, pressing kisses to your neck when you throw your head back, his hands landing on your hips.

“Tell me how you want it,” he said, breathless and polite, yet seemingly more eager than yesterday.

All you did was spread your legs, revealing your bare center to him once again.

He began deftly unzipping his pants, bringing his solid length out at the sight of your glistening cunt. He put a hand on your lower back, face too close to yours as he leaned you back, positioning his tip at your entrance.

That’s when you locked your ankles behind his back, immediately stuffing yourself with him. You tried not to cry out too loudly, not even all of him could fit. It sure has been a couple years since you last hooked up with someone, the effects of it having a toll on your body.

You were so tight around him, walls struggling to even pulse around his length, struggling to adjust to his size.

He grunted as he began thrusting, brows pinched tightly as you seemed to clench around him, pulling him back in every time he tried to pull out.

Your pussy dripping for him, the sounds of it squishing, squelching in attempt to take him all as a slow, languid pace began.

All you did in return was grip his shoulders, squeeze your legs tighter to keep him close.

“You feel… so good,” he breathed out between thrusts, “fuck, I-I’m at my limit,” his voice was breaking, stuttering as he was engulfed in your warmth, squeezing him so tight that he was about to cum not even five minutes in.

“Mmh, Kamo, if you… get me pregnant,” you said between breaths. “You’re fired,” voice frail as he only fucked deeper and deeper with each rut of his hips, the only sounds in the room being breathless gasps for air and slapping skin, desk shaking beneath you.

You just squeezed your legs tighter, not giving him the chance to pull out as his hands fumbled in desperate attempt to unlock your legs behind him.

“G-god, I’m cumming,” he grunted, voice low as his grip on your waist sure to leave a few marks by tomorrow.

You felt yourself being filled up with him, so hot and sticky inside in the entrance to your womb, it brought on your own climax.

You lay almost lifeless on your desk as his body collapsed on yours, a pitiful look on his face as he stood fully, about to take himself out your entrance when you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, bringing your lips to his in a heated kiss.

You two sharing whiny moans as he kissed back with the same passion, the world around you stopping as you tasted his morning coffee, humming into each others mouths.

He broke away only to apologize, plead for one more try. “Please,” he was still out of breath, voice hoarse. “I’ll be good next time, I swear.”

You stifled a laugh at the sight of him looking so unprofessional, hair a mess and clothes all loose, your hand coming up to hide the smirk tugging at your lips. The letter sat on your desk, taunting him. You could practically feel the anxiety radiating off him as he stared at it.

Without saying a word, you motioned toward the paper. The offer a permanent position as your personal assistant.

“Do you want it?” you asked, your voice low but laced with amusement.

He just smiled like a kid in a candy aisle, smashing his lips to yours.

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

I need a fic where Lancelot gets hit by a curse that makes him extremely honest/completely removes his thought to speech filter.

Like, he doesn’t blurt secrets but he’s got no sense of fear for saying things he probably shouldn’t and just starts saying all the quiet parts out loud.

Merlin’s immediately worried about him. I kinda imagine it like:

Merlin: Do you think you’ll say anything about..?

Lance: your secret? No. Definitely not. It’s your secret to tell. Arthur should know how much you do for him even without it though. You should remind him you’re not obligated to do so much if he keeps taking advantage of your kindness.

Merlin: That…

Lance: I clearly mean it. It’s your choice of course. You know I love you too much to betray your trust.

(I’m a sucker for Mercelot but take that however you want)

Then when they all get back to Camelot and one of the towns people is struggling to fix a cart with a broken wheel.

Lance *goes over to help and starts berating the knights*: we’re knights. We’re supposed to help people. If you just want to beat people up, we’ve run into plenty of bandits that would probably take you.

And we all know he doesn’t like the structure of statuses and how power is distributed in Camelot so while he’s still respectful to Arthur as a king, the rest of the lords not so much. He avoids them as much as possible to avoid causing unnecessary problems but when Arthur asks if he’ll be at a council meeting, he’s gotta say no:

Lance: I don’t think that’d be a good idea.

Arthur: why not? I could use someone honest on the council.

Lance: I am honest with you. Mostly. You definitely shouldn’t ask what I think about magic until I can be tactful about my answer. But If I get a chance to be honest in the same room as Lord NoName I’m going to ask him if he doesn’t want to pay taxes because too much of his coin already goes to his mistresses and his wife will find out if he’s forced to document it.

Arthur: …

Lance: …

Arthur: … I don’t know which part to focus on first. If Lord NoName isn’t there will you attend?

Lance: he’s not the only one. Personally, I think they should hear it, but I don’t want to be callous about it. Their wives deserve better and forcing them to find out through gossip and rumours just seems unnecessarily cruel.

Arthur: I’ll call a round table meeting later.

Lance: Probably for the best. You should give Merlin a seat, he’s braver and has done more for you than anyone. I’ll see you later, sire.

I can imagine the magic thing would keep coming up too, just little comments about how he’s frustrated that he’ll be used as an example for why magic should be banned when it’s not all bad and can actually be quite amazing.

Everyone’s confused but he just asks Leon if he likes being alive because he wouldn’t be without the Druids and the cup of life.

Heaven forbid anyone says anything bad about Merlin. He never out’s Merlin’s secret as promised, but he absolutely makes sure everyone is aware how much Merlin does for people out of the goodness of his heart.

I also want him to shit on Uther at some point. About his parenting style or how he ruled Camelot, I don’t mind which.

I imagine someone mentioning how well Lance is handling the curse and “taking it like a man” and getting immediately shot down.

Noble: he’s handling it well, taking it like a man.

Lancelot: Hypocritical coming from you, Lord He-Payed-Less-Than-I-Did-Even-Though-It-was-Proportional-To-Everything-Else. (I don’t pretend to understand how a fictional court set in about 5 different historical eras is run) Actually, not complaining about a situation that sucks isn’t a manly trait at all. All of the problems we’re dealing with are because something happened and someone “took it like a man.” Tax evasion, wars, uneven distribution of wealth, *putting reports on the table for each one* The last time someone “took it like a man” we ended up with an entire people being murdered because a king fucked up, lost his wife, and didn’t want to admit fault and grieve like a sane person.

Everyone’s just silent for a moment.

Lance: … *thinks about what he said for a second*

Lance: No, I stand by that. I’ll apologise for my lack of tact, but not the content.

Meanwhile, watching in horror and barely contained glee:

Arthur: Should have let him sit this one out.

Merlin: Absolutely not. This might become the most productive council meeting we’ve had in years.

Anyway, I just want Lance being able to lean more into the unhinged side of his character sometimes.

He’s still got to fundamentally be a good person, he’s just less filtered in watching the casual stupidity of the nobles, or more honest about people not thanking servants enough (especially to the knights who seemed to forget that they were once common born too) and isn’t afraid to call people on their bullshit when necessary.

Everyone learns to appreciate it too so when the spell wears off, he’s less anxious about giving his opinions on things.

Just let Lancelot be the unfiltered chaotic good that he is.

[l1tw1ck]

Thunder

Bottom!FTM Cloud Strife x Top!Male Reader

⛈️ Word Count: 1,799 ⛈️

While out on a mission, you and Cloud get caught in a sudden thunderstorm, forcing you to find shelter for the night until it stops. But after a couple days, there aren't any signs of it letting up

AFAB Language Used | I had writer's block and got bored so i decided to finally continue playing final fantasy. I stopped like 30 minutes in to write this fic at 12AM. i put down the game (temporarily! i love it) after the section 8 stuff so i'm sorry for any inaccuracies, just needed to take advantage of this burst of motivation

CW: Rape/Non-Con, Somnophilia, Power Imbalance, Frottage, Teasing, Creampie

You peek outside the window, or what was left of it, of the broken down building you're in then turn to Cloud. “Looks like we’ll have to stay the night.” Lightning strikes to reinforce your words. “Think you can handle it, pretty boy?”

“Stop treating me like a rookie.” Cloud sighs. “And stop calling me pretty boy.”

“It's hard when you look like an adorable little kitten.” You smile.

He rolls his eyes and looks around for burnable items.

“It's like watching a lion cub hunt and gather.”

“I can't wait for this night to be over.” He groans. “How about you do something useful, captain?”

“Like what, kitty?”

Cloud grips the damp piece of wood in his hand in annoyance. “Like maybe finding things to keep the water out of here.” He tosses the wood aside.

“Sure.” You stretch.

The two of you worked together to make the old building livable for the night and went to sleep thinking it’d be over by morning.

Cloud wakes up to the loud sound of thunder and sighs. He sees you leaning against the wall. “It's still raining.”

“It sure is.” You chuckle. “We might be here for a while, kitty. Unless you want to run out and somehow dodge all that lightning?”

The two of you are way too far from the base to even consider doing that. The job pays well but not enough for Cloud to not be annoyed with this sudden detour. “I better get a bonus for this.”

“Of course. You could get paid even more if you did me a little favor.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“About 60,000 gil plus your bonus pay.”

“What is it?” He asks, attentive.

You smirk. “Since we're gonna be stuck here for who knows how long, I think it’d be nice to do something as a…pastime of sorts.”

“Stop beating around the bush.”

You motion for him to come over. He rolls his eyes and gets up. “I know you're talented in so many ways,” You grab his wrist and pull him close to you. “And I wanna see if you're talented in this way too.”

He pushes you and steps back, his cheeks red. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.” You laugh.

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

The sun set and the sky continued to pour. Then days passed. You rationed food and managed to find other edible things to keep yourselves alive but the situation isn't all that great for you. You're still functioning, but just by a small margin.

The two of you were able to collect rainwater to drink and help yourselves clean up. Cloud insisted on doing it upstairs so you wouldn't watch him. You promised you wouldn't but you were lying.

As time went on, it was getting harder and harder to keep it in your pants. Your mental state started to get a little wonky thanks to your body not getting all the nutrients it needs. You couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted him, especially since it was better than thinking about food. It got to a point where you couldn't even fall asleep.

You look at Cloud’s sleeping face, studying the slight movements in his facial muscles as he dreams. The soft glow of your lamp allows you to properly see him despite the darkness. His chest slowly rises and falls. You know if you made an attempt, he’d wake up, any good soldier would. But it's getting hard to control yourself. Being in such close proximity with him is driving you mad. You hesitantly, and very softly, touch his shoulder. He doesn't react. You poke his cheek. Nothing. You pause.

You trace your finger down his chest and to his pants. You carefully unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn't seem to notice you pulling them down. You take in a small breath. You're so nervous it feels like there's a hole in your chest. You remove his boxers at an agonizingly slow pace. You gulp as you start to see his pussy. Light blond tufts of hair beautifully surround his soft, pudgy cunt and his t-dick. You look at him. He's sleeping peacefully. He must be more tired than usual tonight.

You gently pull his underwear down his ankles and place it on the end of the blanket he’s laying on. You carefully spread his legs and slot yourself in between them. As you begin to free your aching hard dick, you start to feel a little bad. You tell yourself to give him a huge bonus after this. You gently rub your cock along his pussy, knowing you can definitely get off just by doing this. You don't want it to hurt, at least not too much, so you decide not to penetrate him since your luck would probably run out if you tried to prep him properly.

You bite down on your lip. The view is making you feel dizzy. Your ears drown out the sounds of the thunder storm and focus entirely on Cloud. On his soft, gentle breaths and the squelching sound of his wet pussy, aroused by your cock pressing itself against it. Your heart starts to pound louder, ruining your focus on Cloud.

You let out a breathy gasp as you begin to feel your climax approaching. Your eyes flicker over to his face, watching to make sure he's still asleep. You don't know how you’ve gotten this far but you're no longer so sure that you’ll be able to stop here. Your movements stutter as your cum splatters on his body.

“Cloud..” You whisper. His lack of reaction emboldens you to keep going. You move back and slide your middle finger inside his cunt. Squelch. It sucks it in with ease, and same with your ring finger. You slowly open him up while using your free hand to jerk yourself off. He twitches. You pause and look at him before continuing.

You eventually decide to stop and finally get to the good part. You gently lift Cloud’s legs and position the tip of your cock in front of his entrance. You take your time easing into him while constantly checking if he's awake.

Once you're finally fully inside, you take a couple minutes to take everything in. You're in serious disbelief but way too horny to be concerned about it. You know that, at this point, if he wakes up, you’ll be able to overpower him.

You slowly thrust into him, happily indulging in the wonders of Cloud Strife’s pussy. You gently caress his t-dick, smiling when you start to hear him whimper. “You feel so good, Cloud– ‘s like you were made for me, to tempt me..” You murmur, gradually picking up the pace. “I didn't think it’d be so easy…”

“Maybe you're not even asleep. No properly trained soldier would sleep through something like this…I wonder if you're enjoying this. Getting off on me assaulting you in your sleep like a slut.” You notice his cheeks starting to turn red. A chill runs down your spine as you start to get a feeling your assumption is correct. “You like this, Cloud? Letting yourself get taken advantage of? Does it feel good getting treated like a cocksleeve?”

He whimpers, his cunt squeezing you.

“I know you're awake. Answer me.”

His eyes flutter open, his face flushed and deliciously seductive. “It– it feels good-!” He moans.

“Good boy.” You grin. You never would've thought Cloud would be into something like this. You roughly pound into him. He cries out in pleasure, feeling his orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside and you're gonna take it like the good kitty you are.”

“Ye- yes–!” He shuts his eyes, squirting on your dick. His mouth hangs open as the aftershocks hit him. He smiles dreamily as he feels your cum flow inside of him.

You stop and catch your breath. “Did you reject me hoping this would happen?”

Cloud nods softly. “I didn't think it would…but I wanted it to.”

…..........

He pushes you and steps back. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.”

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

Cloud climbed the semi-intact stairs and explored the second floor of the building. There wasn't anything noteworthy inside but it did give him much needed privacy. No room to lay down but he didn't need to anyway.

He walked behind a wall to hide himself in case you decided to follow him, and unbuckled his pants. He stuck his hand down them and gently caressed his t-dick. He always knew you were attracted to him, it wasn't like you were hiding it, and he pretended that he hated it. He loves your pet names and the lustful way you look at his body. Part of him hoped that one day, you’d just force yourself on him and claim him like a prize. He didn't think it'd ever happen but he never got tired of fantasizing about it. He hoped he'd have some sort of opportunity for you to finally make your move.

He'd imagine you cornering him in the locker room showers and covering his mouth to make sure no one finds out.

Cloud sneakily rubs his sensitive nipples against the cold wall tiles as you enter him. “Shh, this is what you get for being such a tease.” You spank him, your cock forcefully entering his pussy. Cloud shivers at the sounds of your heavy breathing. He can tell how aroused you are and how much you love his body. He rolls his eyes back as you stretch him wide open, his own heavy breaths making him feel lightheaded.

Or he’d imagine you giving him an ultimatum and forcing him to submit to you in exchange for keeping his job.

Cloud fakes a look of disgust as he stares at your rock hard cock. He looks up at you then back at your length, hesitating before enveloping it in his mouth. “There you go, Cloud, finally doing what I hired you for.” You praise him. He shudders at the thought, his pussy throbbing with need. “This is what you should be doing, not out on the battlefield but here, pleasing me.”

He looks up at you, trying to look angry. You smirk and push his head down, forcing him to shift his focus back.

His latest fantasy was about being trapped together. He hoped that something would happen to keep the two of you together for a long time. And he’d tease you even more to frustrate you. Then you’d finally do it.

He didn't think that exact scenario would actually play out.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 27

masterpost This is just a first draft, please no concrit!

Danny wasn’t sure about this.

He should be. Bruce seemed sure about it. His… his siblings seemed sure about it. Babs seemed sure about it. But Danny… Danny couldn’t help but feel like he was forcing himself on another person. The fact that Annalise was dead didn’t help him feel any better at all. In fact, everyone had learned to avoid that point of argument after how upset it had made Danny the first time that Damian had tried it.

They didn’t get it, how could they? Death meant something different to them.

“Danny?” Dick’s concerned voice interrupted Danny’s thoughts. “Do you want something different to eat?”

Danny blinked down at the scrambled eggs that he had been idly pushing around on his plate for the last few minutes. The yellow lumps didn’t look very edible anymore. “Oh. Um, I guess another scone and some fruit?”

It was only Dick, Damian, Duke, and Bruce at breakfast that day. All the D kids. Jason had gone back home yesterday. Dick would leave today, but Tim would be back and maybe Cass. It was hard to have less of them there. It was hard to have them away where Danny couldn’t know they were safe. Danny tried not to make a big deal about it, he had to let them all start getting back to their lives. They had been giving up so much for him.

After swallowing a large bite of the scone Dick had passed him, Danny asked, “Can I see how changing back to my ghost form goes today?”

For just a split second, everyone at the table froze before they forced themselves back into motion.

“Of course. Do you want to do that after breakfast? I’d like myself or Dick to be with you, in case there’s a set back with your injuries,” Bruce said.

“I guess? I don’t know when Dick wants to leave,” Danny said with a glance between the two adults at the table.

“I don’t have to head out until early afternoon,” Dick chirped. “What’s work like for you, B?”

“Just an afternoon meeting that I’ll be attending virtually. Lucius knows there’s a family thing going on and is holding down the fort,” Bruce said.

“Lucius Fox,” Duke explained. “He keeps stuff running and Bruce on track.”

Bruce shrugged. “It’s true. He also knows about the family nightlife, which helps immensely.”

“I guess that after breakfast works,” Danny said as he picked a little at his scone. He was realizing that Bruce hadn’t actually seen his ghost form before. Damian and Duke hadn’t either, he didn’t think. It felt like a reveal even though it wasn’t. Danny met Damian’s searching gaze and gave a little bit of a shrug. “It’s just been a while since I’ve been in it. I guess I’m feeling, like, this itch about it.”

Damian gave a little nod. “A muscle that needs stretching. May I join Father and Grayson in the Cave to watch?”

A chunk of the scone broke off. Danny fumbled it slightly before just setting the pastry down on his plate. “Sure? I don’t know if it’s really going to be anything interesting. I’m guessing that I might still be pretty weak, so I don’t really plan to try much.”

“What sort of things can you normally do?” Duke asked as he mopped up the last of the egg on his plate with a piece of toast.

Danny resisted the urge to fidget with the scone again. “Oh, um, well flight is the most basic thing.”

“Please no flying too high or over open parts of the cave right now,” Bruce said with a slightly strained sounding voice. “I’d rather you not fall when we can’t safely catch you. When you think you’re stable, we can have a family friend over to spot you.”

“Oh. Sure? I mean, I’ve fallen before and I’ve been fine. It’s hard for me to take damaged in the form.”

“Still, Dandelion,” Dick said carefully. “We’d rather not risk you. Just put up with us being overly cautious for a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny replied on rote. He didn’t really get it. There hadn’t been any being careful before with Sam and Tucker, but he had been hurt around his new family a lot. “Um, other powers I have are to go invisible and intangible. And I can shoot some energy blast elemental things. There’s duplication too, but it’s, um… yeah. Not great and I don’t want to after…”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. This is just what you need,” Bruce assured him. “No one is asking you to use your powers here unless it’s something that you want to do or need to do for your health.”

Danny gave a jerky little nod and looked away. “Right.”

“Come on, Dami,” Dick said as he stood, “let’s go run through some stretches so we can get some practice in before I leave.”

“I’ll let Alfred know you’ll still be here for lunch and that I won’t be. Group project,” Duke said and got up also.

It went from a pretty full table to just Danny and Bruce almost instantly. Danny nibbled on a chunk of the scone.

“Danny, what’s going through your head, chum?”

What was going through his head? “I just… I don’t know. My ghost half has always been for something. Sam wanted me to fight the other ghosts. My… anyways, experiments. I guess I don’t know how to talk about it after everything. I don’t know how to talk about it with all of you. You guys are out there being heroes all the time and… don’t you want to use my powers?”

Bruce moved to the seat next to Danny. He was so large that he loomed a little even when trying to seem smaller. Danny didn’t think he’d get that large. Not anymore, not after dying. Not after the years in a box.

Would Damian get bigger than him? Probably.

“In the Justice League, I’m the strategist,” Bruce said calmly. “There have been times in my life that I’ve been far too much the strategist. There have been other times in my life when I’ve tried to use strategy to cover up my fears and feelings and have hurt people. It’s something that I still have to work on, and I likely will for the rest of my life. I very much do not want to not screw that up with you. After everything you’ve been through, I want it to be as clear as possible that who you are and what you are isn’t something that I plan to use. The only one that gets to say what you use that for is yourself. You’re not an asset, you’re my kid.”

Danny blinked quickly. He didn’t want to cry again. “I don’t know if I know how to be a kid anymore.”

“I was horrible at being a kid,” Bruce said. “As were… well, a number of my children. But the good of that is, you don’t have to be a normal kid here. If for you being a kid is training Ursa and going flying and, I don’t know, building model airplanes then that’s fine. If at some point you do want to be part of the nightlife, then that will be fine too. You have all of us to figure those things out with you. And we’ll disagree sometimes, because we’re us, but that is alright too.”

Danny gave a slightly watery little chuckle. “Going to build model airplanes with me?”

“If that’s what you’re into, absolutely.”

“What if… what if part of what I want is to reach out to Jazz? What if I want her to help me figure out things too?”

“Then I just ask that you let us figure out how to do that safely first so that no one can find you here and come for you,” Bruce said.

“You’d really let me?”

“She’s your sister. You being part of this family doesn’t change that. In fact, Jazz welcome to be part of this family if she would like to be. But she can also not be and still be your sister.”

“Once it’s safe,” Danny said. “I’ll reach out once it’s safe for me and for Dami and Jason too. I won’t let them get hurt because of me.”

Bruce ruffled Danny’s hair. “I know you won’t. Just let us help with it. I don’t think any of us could take you running off like that again.”

Danny winced. “That… wasn’t my best moment.”

“Maybe not, but we all understand how you got to that point. I’m just glad that you were headed to me and that we got you back,” Bruce said with a little shrug. “Well, and that you didn’t get pneumonia from being injured and out in the rain.”

Danny stood when Bruce did, setting his napkin on the table. He tried not to seem like he was scrambling, but the formal meals were still a little much. “I’m glad about that too. I think I’ve been injured enough for a long time.”

“You really have been,” Bruce agreed. “Which is why I’d prefer no full on flying until we have either Superman or Superboy over to visit and spot you.”

“I won’t fall, I don’t think.”

“Still,” Bruce said with a little frown that seemed somehow dark.

“Oh, strategist. You can, like, picture it, can’t you? Me falling.”

“Far too easily.”

“Okay, yeah, no full on flying on my own until you know I won’t fall,” Danny agreed. “Even if I know you’d catch me.”

“We’d try our best to, chum, always.”

[et6rnalsun]

SHARED BATHROOM — playgirl! reader

chris was already at the limit of any fucking tolerance he could have towards you. which, at the beginning of that unrealistic situation, was already little.

he really wanted to set the house on fire as soon as he knew he would have to share his bathroom with you. such a big space, endless rooms, and there wasn’t one for the guests? the answer was no, and for some strange reason, matt and chris gave that torture to him.

you didn't even care about that whole bathroom thing, but too bad you were so damn disrespectful.

chris had a specific time to shower in the evening, and he even made the sacrifice of talking to you to make it clear. so, that quiet day — after not seeing you at all, at 11 PM he approached the bathroom with his robe in his grip and already shirtless. his hand lazily rested on the doorknob, pushing lightly to get into the room. but it wouldn't open. it was locked. with a sigh of one trying to be patient with life that seemed to want to test him, he placed his ear close to it, clearly listening to the flow of the water running. absolutely fucking not.

he started banging on the door insistently, almost wanting to knock it down as frustration bubbled up in his veins like a powerful charge. he leaned against the wall, as he continued his actions all while waiting for her to open it. because yes, he knew she would.

in fact, at some point the water was turned off, he heard footsteps and you opened the door. “what the fuck did i tell you—“ his words died in his throat as his eyes automatically landed on his body in an instant. a measly towel was wrapped around your waist, intended to cover you even though it didn’t do that at all, not helping his imagination which was going crazy. the outline of your breasts were in plain sight for his hungry eyes, nipples painfully visible as they were pressed against the thin fabric. your hips were only further highlighted with the tightness of the towel, and god, he wanted to die.

“what?” you sassed him out, raising an eyebrow as you noticed how he froze. “you told me what, huh? this is my bathroom too, for now”

he ran a hand through his hair at your words, almost pulling at it in frustration. he forced his eyes to rise, meeting yours which were full of that usual defiance he hated so much. "i don't care. you can't act like you did nothin’, yeah? you know full well i use it now"

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, and his gaze fell again. your action only made chris sweat more, and he simply wanted to reach out and touch them until his fingers left a permanent mark on the soft skin. “too bad. i used it first, and you’re not dead. amazing, right?” your sarcasm was palpable, and to finish your little scene, you walked away, bumping your shoulder into his.

he was too frustrated. frustrated and with an erection that was pressing insistently against the crotch of the gray sweatpants he was wearing.

he slammed the bathroom door shut as he rushed into the shower, dropping his pants and boxers. the hot water that you had probably used a few minutes ago hit his face, and he immediately turned it to cold. he slowly ran a hand down his already wet chest, reaching his erect cock that hit his stomach fully. his thumb grazed the leaking head of it, and he let out a small groan as his back hit the shower tiles.

“fuck, fuck” he was jerking off while thinking about you. your body, your tits, your damn voice as you taunted him like that— “god” another strangled groan escaped his parted lips as he fisted his length faster, his head falling back with his eyes closed. with every pump, in his mind appeared that same night in which he had the opportunity of fucking you as he had long dreamed, and there was nothing else in the world that he wanted to do again even though he despised you more and more every second. you would have laughed in his face if you had seen him in that condition.

his pace increased as he choked out more sounds, trying to keep it all low. he felt his orgasm approaching, and came faster than he expected as he looked down at his aftermath-splattered hand. what he was most ashamed of. he couldn't keep this shit up.

TAGLIST. @wildfluer @waitforyrlove @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @sosasturns @zweigsangel @sturn777 @carvedtits @inspiredangel @sturniolossss @ilovedanielcaesar @jetaimevous @marrykisskilled @bluestriips @alesturniolos @rafespreciosa

[mylovesstuffs]

How OT13 would handle free-use with their s/o

Request: more seventeen non-con/dubcon themes please. like, maybe free-use if you’re comfy with it? like yeah, its consensual and they’ve established boundaries and stuff with you but similar to the angry sex one, it’s like… rougher..

A/N: The way I wrote it...it sounds weird. Doesn't sound tasty to my ears. Really weird flavours. I don't like how it turned out but okay...I'm sorry to the anon if this is not what they wanted. I just winged it—

Content warning: MDNI !! Non-consensual, power dynamics, dominance and submission, Abuse (physical/verbal), intensity, teasing, rough sex, control, degradation, violent themes, obsession and possession, tension building, touching and groping, kissing, slapping—lmk if I missed anything

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Seungcheol: Seungcheol is a textbook example of an aggressive, dominant abuser. He uses physical force and verbal degradation to assert his power and control over the situation and his partner. His assertiveness bordering on aggression. His words are very harsh and demeaning, but you don't mind as there's boundaries set up. We'll have to admit that he's actually both assertive and caring, which makes him the type to take control but always in a way that feels like it's for you. His voice is always low, like a command waiting to be obeyed. Without warning, he'll spins you around, pressing you roughly against the nearest hard surface - a desk, a wall, or any available surface. He doesn't give you much space to answer before his lips are on yours again, and his body flushes against yours in a way that promises he's not leaving until he gets what he wants. He will yank your hair back, exposing your throat as he growls in your ear. His free hand slides down your body roughly, grabbing your thigh and lifting your leg up against his hip to keep you off balance and trapped against him. Yanking your pants down abruptly, without preamble, he thrusts inside you, setting a brutal pace that leaves no room for gentleness. "Take it, slut. You asked for this, teeing me mad all night."

Jeonghan: Jeonghan's personality shifts to a darker, more menacing tone during non-consensual themes. He becomes assertive to the point of being abusive, using his strength to overpower you and assert his dominance. His words are laced with degradation and insult, designed to break your spirit and make you feel powerless. He is a master of psychological manipulation, using fear, intimidation, and verbal abuse to control you. He delights in making you feel helpless and trapped. He might call you derogatory names one moment, then whisper "baby" the next as he wraps his large hands around your throat. He could be forcefully shoving you down on his lap, then gently running his fingers through your hair afterward, like a sick parody of tender care. The way he glides his hand along your thigh is enough to make your heart race, his eyes never leaving yours. The sweet eyes shifts abruptly into something darker "You're making me wait, aren't you? Little whore doesn't know how to act properly." He slaps your ass hard enough to sting, making you yelp. His touch turns suddenly rough, fingers gripping your jaw painfully as he forces you to meet his intense gaze. His other hand shoves between your legs, groping roughly. His hand comes down on your ass again, and again, the slaps are loud and painful. He yanks your head back as he spits in your face. "Shut up and stay still."

Joshua: Joshua's teasing is masterful, balanced perfectly between charming and predatory. His touch is feather-light yet possessive, each gentle movement made to keep your senses heightened and anticipation building, his presence magnetic. When Joshua decides he's had enough of teasing and wants you regardless, he becomes a different creature altogether. His magnetic presence turns into a smothering aura, pulling you into his orbit whether you like it or not. His earlier gentle touches become rough grabs, fingers leaving unwanted marks on your skin. He corners you against walls, pinning you with his lean but strong frame "You're making this so much fun for me," he whispers, his sweet voice now carrying a dangerous edge as he blocks your exit. He backhands you sharply across the face, the sound echoing through the room. He wraps his long legs around yours to keep you from kicking, trapping you beneath him. He spits in your face (just like Jeonghan), his cold eyes locked onto yours as he growls, "Say it." Joshua leans in closer, his breath hot and foul against your face as he snarls, "Let me hear you beg, whore. Scream it for me." His hips grind viciously, forcing his cock deeper as his free hand mauls your breast, twisting the nipple cruelly.

Jun: Jun is playful with a dash of unpredictability. He might start innocently enough perhaps with a casual brush of his fingers against yours-but before you know it, he's pulling you in. He fully embodies his darker alter ego. His mannerisms become more aggressive and calculated. He frequently uses possessive language and may engage in acts without clear verbal consent (with boundaries discussed before), though his physical actions might give subtle warnings or tests. Physically, he could engage in rough handling, binding, or the use of objects without express permission. Jun's unpredictability shines through as he suddenly turn you around, pulling your back flush against his chest. His lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the skin teasingly. "Gotcha," he chuckles softly, arms tightening around your waist. His hands slide up your body, one possessively gripping your neck while the other teases your sensitive spots with a vibrating toy while making sure you're okay. His voice softens for a moment, genuine concern in his eyes meeting yours. But then his grip tightens again as he growls, "Answer," Jun hisses, his teeth sinking into your shoulder possessively. His free hand forces another toy between your thighs, the cold metal clinking as he turns it on, the vibrations intensifying. "You're not passing out on me, are you?"

Hoshi: Hoshi during non-consensual themes is a whole different entity. His playful and teasing nature gives way to a dominant and controlling persona. He thrives on the power dynamic, relishing in the fear and submission he inspires. His actions become rougher, more aggressive, and sometimes violent. But as we all know his energy is contagious, and his playful teasing is just the tip of the iceberg. He'll catch you off guard, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a spontaneous dance, only for the movements to turn more intimate as his hand finds your waist. In a swift motion, Hoshi pushes you against the wall, his hand gripping your throat gently. Hoshi's hand tightens around your throat, cutting off your airflow slightly as he pins you against the wall. He bites down hard, marking you with his teeth before pushing you further into the wall with his body. With a wicked grin, Hoshi begins to tear at your clothes as he exposes your bare skin. He presses his body against yours, his hands roaming roughly over your curves. Suddenly, he grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head, holding them in place with one hand. His other hand moves to your jaw, forcing your face up to meet his intense gaze. Without warning, he slaps you sharply across the face before immediately crashing his lips against yours in a harsh, bruising kiss.

Wonwoo: Wonwoo is calm, composed, and reserved, but there's an intensity beneath his quiet exterior that comes to life when he's with you. He'd watch you from across the room, his gaze piercing yet lazy, knowing that he's got your attention. When you approach him, he doesn't waste words; instead, his lips press firmly against yours in a kiss that is both deep and demanding. He pulls you closer, his hands settling on your hips with a surprising firmness as he guides you to stand between his legs. His voice, low and hushed, vibrates through you when he speaks. "I know what you need, and I'm going to give it to you." There's no question in his tone, just certainty. Wonwoo's fingertips trace agonizingly slow lines down your trembling skin, each millimeter a deliberate torment. His touch lingers, savoring every ridge and valley of your body like a connoisseur studying a fine wine. His fingers pause over particularly sensitive spots, circling teasingly before abruptly changing course, leaving you aching for more. Yet he denies you, drinking in the frustrated whimpers he extracts with cruel delight. His palm flattens possessively against your stomach, claiming every inch as his own. Despite the roughness of his actions, there's an undercurrent of affection in his words and actions, ensuring you know this is something you've both agreed upon, even if it feels like you've been swept up in the intensity of it all.

Woozi: Woozi's playful nature may be subtle, but that only makes it more dangerous. He'd stare at you for a moment, studying you, before his lips curve into a knowing smile. "You've been quiet today," he muses, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. Woozi traces patterns on your arm with his index finger, his touch feather-light yet electric. He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he speaks in a whisper, "You know... the longer you stay silent, the more I want to make you scream," before he pulls away just enough to let you wonder if he's really teasing or if he means every word. He brings one hand to your waist, pulling you slightly closer while his other hand finds its way to your neck, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His lips curve into that maddening smirk again, "Should I help you find your voice?" Everything is almost calculated, as if making you wait is his favorite game. Woozi's kiss is a paradox that's both romantic and violent. His lips are gentle and soft one moment, pressing against yours with tender reverence, and the next, they're demanding and rough, sucking on your bottom lip until it bleeds. He becomes a master of gradual entrapment, his seeming gentleness masking predatory intentions. Rather than overt aggression, Woozi employs isolating you through his undeniable charm and control that have you boozing.

Dokyeom: He uses his charm and humor to lull victims into a false sense of security before abruptly switching to verbal humiliation and threats. His are aimed to keep you off-balance while maintaining control. While physically strong, he prefers mental games over brute force. But he's also the type to make you laugh and feel at ease, but when he wants to tease, he does so with a twinkle in his eye. "Come on, you're hiding something," he grins, sliding his hand gently but firmly around your waist. DK's gentle grasp on your waist transitions into a firm hold as he spins you around to face him. His twinkle-eyed grin morphs into a smirk, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone. His hands roam more freely now, no longer pretending to be innocent. He backs you up against a wall, his hands sliding down to your thighs and hooking them over his arms. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, trapping you against him. Kyeom's hands move with a newfound roughness, tearing at your clothes with little care for the fabric. His fingers dig into your skin as he yanks you closer, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss. He breaks away only to rip your shirt open, buttons scattering everywhere.

Mingyu: Mingyu's playful teasing has a way of keeping you guessing. He'll pull you close, his hands lightly grazing your back, before flashing you a smirk. His lips press against your neck, and you can feel the intensity in his touch as his hands begin to roam, drawing out a soft gasp from you. His teasing doesn't stop with just physical touch; his words and gaze are enough to make your heart race as you lose yourself in his playfulness. Without warning, his strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. His grip is like a vice, crushing the air out of your lungs. In non-consensual times, Mingyu becomes a domineering, aggressive who uses his strength to overpower and violate. He employs brutally rough handling, from throwing you around to slamming you against surfaces. He uses his free hand to harshly grab your thigh, pulling your leg up to wrap around his arm, exposing you completely. He runs his other hand down your body possessively, squeezing and grabbing at your most sensitive areas. With a cruel smile, he rips your panties aside and shoves his thick, uncut cock inside you without any lubrication, stretching your tight pussy brutally. Mingyu pushes you down on the bed, spreading your legs forcefully. His large hand presses down on your throat, restricting your airflow. "You like being used, don't you?" Not giving you time to respond, he slams into you again, harder than before. You can feel every single throbbing inch of him as he roughly fucks you. His other hand comes down hard multiple times on your exposed skin, leaving angry red welts. "Take it, you fucking whore."

Minghao: Minghao teasing is a slow burn. His approach is subtly sinister. He overwhelms with patience rather than brute force. He corners you gently but firmly, trapping you against a wall, his eyes boring into you with an unsettling intensity. His voice remains eerily calm while doing whatever the fuck he's doing to you. "Spread your legs," he commands softly, his hands slowly pushing your legs apart despite your protests. He uses his superior height and build to position himself perfectly between your thighs. "You can't run now, can you?" His fingers trail down your spine with the same deliberate slowness, making you shiver. Minghao's lips trail slow, wet kisses down your neck, his tongue tasting your skin. He takes his time exploring every inch of your body, his hands roaming everywhere. When he reaches your core, he breathes hotly against it, "So pretty and pink." His tongue slowly parts your folds, teasingly licking upwards but stopping short of your most sensitive spot. He repeats this agonizingly slow motion, building tension but giving no release. His fingers spread your thighs wider, opening you up completely to his slow, tantalizing torment.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan's playful side is matched only by his ability to make you feel like the most important person in the room. I don’t think he’d ever be hard with you. Instead, he’d make sure you have the best time of your life, treating you with nothing but care and intention. And let’s be honest, even if it wasn’t entirely consensual, there’s no way you could resist that kind of overwhelming pleasure. He’d know exactly what you need, even before you realize it yourself, taking his time to draw out every little reaction from you. His touches would be deliberate, his words soft yet firm, making sure you feel cherished and completely swept away. There’s no rush with him. He'd slide in next to you with a smile that'll make you melt on the spot, "What's with the silence, huh?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. His lips find your ear, his voice a mock whisper. "You're not as quiet as you think, love," he says, laughing softly. His hands begin to explore your body with reverence, his touch light yet deliberate. He traces the curve of your jaw, the slope of your neck, the swell of your breasts. His lips follow the path of his fingers, pressing soft, worshipful kisses to your skin. He unbuttons your shirt slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin with each button undone. He spreads the fabric open, revealing your bare midriff, then your ribcage, then the lacy edge of your bra. He pauses, his fingers hooking in the fabric. His voice drops to a whisper, as sweet as syrup, "Is this another one of those nights where I make you forget your name?" He gently pushes you back against the cushions, his body covering yours in a way that's giving a loverboy vibes. "Your skin... it's like silk," he murmurs against your collarbone. He looks up at you, eyes dark with desire, yet still holding that playful spark. "You know," he whispers, trailing a finger across your lower lip, "Every time I touch you," he continues, his voice dropping lower, more intimate, "your eyes flutter like that. And your body..." His hands trace along your sides, making you shiver. "It responds to me like it's made specifically for my touch." His lips curve into a smug but sweet smile. (I low-key see CBZ Seungkwan here for some reason TT)

Vernon: Vernon's teasing is laced with an effortless charm, his smirk always making you wonder what he's up to. His hands slowly glide down your back, the light touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "Trying to act like you don't want this?" he teases, pulling you closer, his voice low and intoxicating. His confidence only increases the more you resist, and before long, you're unable to do anything but give in to him, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that's full of passion and playful dominance. As you melt into the embrace, a shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of his lips on yours. His hands continue to roam your back, possessive and gentle at the same time. You can't help but surrender to the warmth and comfort he provides, your arms wrapping around him instinctively. Suddenly, he lifts you up and carries you to the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around you. Before you can even process what's happening, he tosses you onto the mattress and pounces on top of you, his weight pinning you down. "Shh," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding as he reaches for a pair of handcuffs on the nightstand. He snaps them around your wrists before you can react, pulling your arms above your head and securing the other end to the headboard. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he looks down at you, bound and helpless beneath him. He slowly begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest. "Now, let's see just how loud I can make you scream," and yeah he's a different kind of Vernon.

Dino: He's the type who likes to chase and claim what's his, and he won't take no for an answer. Dino's energy is infectious, and his playful nature is never without a mischievous edge. He'd pull you into a tight embrace, his lips quick to find yours. His hands find their way to your hips, his touch becoming. His kisses are hungry, playful, and full of youthful energy, leaving you breathless as he continues to push you to the edge. "You keep pushing me away," he whispers, his voice dangerous and sweet at the same time. Before you can react, he's got you spun around, his chest pressed against your back, one arm banded firmly around your waist. "You're already soaking through those panties, aren't you?" "Answer me," he demands. His hand moves lower, tracing your thigh before suddenly yanking up your skirt. "Such a fucking tease, showing off these pretty legs. Was that for me?" His fingers find the edge of your panties, tracing the damp material. "Goddamn, you're dripping wet," he groans approvingly, fingers pushing your panties aside to feel your slick folds directly. "Look at that, your slutty little cunt is begging for my cock." Without warning, he plunges two fingers deep inside you, pumping furiously. "Take it, fucking take it," His long fingers continue their persistent rhythm inside you, curling to hit that sensitive spot while his thumb circles your clit. No talking, just the sounds of your wetness against his movements and your ragged breathing as stimulation becomes almost unbearable. He adds another finger, stretching you wider as he continues to thrust and curl inside you. His other hand reaches up to grab your thigh, pulling your leg up higher against his arm, opening you up even more to his touch. You're so overstimulated you can barely think.

[takumiraine]

Once Upon a Time chapter 7

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Danny is still going thru it. I’m not going to put it on Ao3 until I’m done with it. I have no idea about a master post though.

Some blood and a bit of puke in this chapter.

—

Danny was furious. Furious and terrified and alone.

Jason. His one friend. Red Hood. The man who had sworn he wasn’t a Bat. They were the same person. They worked with Batman. Bruce Wayne funded the Justice League. Bruce Wayne was Jason’s father.

He was going to be sick.

Danny stopped running to throw up in an alley, half bile, half swallowed blood. His nose was still dripping and oozing and throbbing and the force of his heaving set it bleeding in earnest again. He swore, spitting on the ground, before flattening himself into the shadows as the trill of police cars sped by, heading the direction he had just left.

He had to find a way to contact Tucker and Sam. Tucker was monitoring the GIW passively, and it was set up to know if anyone searched for him. If there was suddenly more chatter or a mobilization. But if the Bats were watching him…

Danny checked the street and darted another couple blocks before pressing against another wall and checking. When he got to his building, he scampered up to his apartment and locked himself in. Not that the locks would do anything against anyone that seriously wanted to hurt him but…. He moved his bed up against the door too.

Danny went to sigh out of his nose and spattered half clotted blood everywhere again. “Ancients fucking damn it!” Danny felt tears springing to his eyes at the thought of yet another mess he’d have to clean up before he could pass out. He went to the bathroom and growled at his reflection in the mirror. The break in his nose was obvious and he knew that if he didn’t fix it now, it would slowly fix itself over the next week or two.

If he had a shitton of food and a way into the Zone without drawing suspicion he could heal it in a couple hours but…

A deep breath in and a gritted yell out, and Danny was able to reset it, icing it in place with the little bit of his powers he was able to use without drawing attention. Gotham had a lot of random cold spells from that one supervillain. Danny wasn’t going to argue it.

He changed his shirt, and washed out the blood in cold water, gingerly wiping off his face as he went. Once it was laid in the kitchen sink to dry, Danny took the duct tape he had in his drawer and taped his windows shut.

The point was to make it obvious if they were tampered with and make a lot of noise in the process.

From there, he pulled his blankets into the tub, crawled on top of them and went to sleep, thankful it was the weekend. He would get the blood off the wood in the morning. He didn’t sleep well, waking up with barely muffled shouts and gasps for breath as the memories of broken bones healing while being used, burns so bad he couldn’t feel them regrowing nerves, the concussive blast of the Fenton Bazooka, the shredding feeling of the Fenton Ghost Peeler haunting his unconscious mind.

The irony of his parents handing over their otherwise harmless weapons to the GIW who upgraded them into the most painful versions possible under the guise of protecting him from Phantom was not lost on him.

He did not go to campus Saturday or Sunday, but showed up for his Monday class the slightest bit late, anxiety chewing through him like squirrels liked to gnaw through cables. Jason was in their usual spot, but Danny slid into one nearest the door, frowning when he caught Jason looking at him. He knew he was still all bruised up, he had to ration again, and aside from some bottom of the barrel cheap ass junk food, he hadn’t eaten this weekend at all.

He could feel Jason’s eyes on him most of the lesson, and Danny kept his head down, scrawling his notes the best he could with battered and split knuckles. He felt one of the scabs tear and absently lifted it to his mouth, making sure he didn’t bleed all over his notes. From across the room, Danny felt something from Jason’s core and used his own to push back “no” and “asshole”.

Jason might not be able to tell exactly what Danny meant, or even why, but he should be able to get a vibe. Judging by the small flinch, barely perceptible even when Danny was looking right at Jason, Danny was fairly certain his point was made.

The end of class came and Danny was the first one out the door, pushing his core down to nothing and ducking down another hallway and into a doorway of an empty classroom. He sat against the wall there to do his homework, rather than being predictable and going to the library.

Jason was well aware that he had fucked up. Danny looked half dead, more than the first time, with bruises on his face and hands and up his sleeves. Then Danny’s knuckle split and he sucked it into his mouth. Jason felt a pile of things swirl around the place in his stomach the pit occupied. Guilt tinged with arousal, followed by embarrassment at the arousal in this situation and then…. He felt like a wall slammed into the pit. He didn’t flinch, not anymore, but there was a hard blink in response. Danny’s glare told him all he needed to know. It had come from him. Somehow.

Then class was over and Danny bolted almost immediately. By the time Jason made it out of class after him, he was gone.

The next couple of classes went the same way.

Jason needed to find him, to talk, to explain, to apologize, to ask him how the fuck he knew. He almost got his chance on Wednesday when Jason was in the library with Babs, shelving books silently with her. Danny snuck around the corner and startled so hard he dropped the book he had been planning to check out, probably for their lit class. He looked between Babs and Jason for one tense moment, and Jason watched him go pale(r) in the bright lights. He opened his mouth and reached out a hand, and Danny flinched away, fear slamming into Jason like the force of that bomb. When he could breathe again, Danny was gone.

“He’s afraid of us…” Jason muttered, confused. “He took on six goons in the middle of the night and got stabbed, but still walks around Gotham at night without fear…. But he’s afraid of us.”

Babs looked up at him. “We need to find out what happened.” Her voice was matter of fact. “Before B stumbles into it and makes things worse.”

“I know.”

Friday, Jason got his chance.

Danny was creeping across the courtyard and Jason was just happening to cross at a different point. “Danny!” He called, just loud enough to be heard. He had his hands up, empty, as he approached. He was ready for the fear slamming into him this time, and ate the angry that followed behind it. “Wait. Please. It’s important.” Danny didn’t move, didn’t run, though he was scoping out exits. Jason made sure to leave him with several.

“You have one minute. Any other…. Associate…. Joins you and you don’t get another chance.”

“Fair. It’s just us.” Jason came close enough that he could talk without being overheard, hands still up. “I want to say I’m sorry first. I wanted to tell you, but it isn’t something I can really tell people and the relationship is complicated and we don’t really work together. But that’s not the point. B wants to know how you knew it was me and how the pit got to you. We tried to look it…. You… up but there was a weird firewall? Some account required shit and a number. One of the…. Others… called it and it went to a government information warehouse? She pretended it was a wrong number and it was on a burner that we destroyed after but- “

Danny looked ashen. “You called the GIW?”

“You know them?”

“They want to kill me. Again.” Danny crumpled to the ground, hunching in on himself. He took a step closer to hear what Danny was whispering. “-gonna fillet me… don’t have the shield, need to warn Tucker and Sam and…. No not Jazz. She’s normal… she’s safe… they don’t want her… they only want me… my fault…my fault…”

When it turned into Danny just repeating “my fault” over and over, Jason knelt beside him. Danny flinched, curled in deeper, but Jason just gently placed his hand on Danny’s shoulder, reminding him quietly of where they were and that he was safe.

It took time, but slowly Danny’s rapid and shallow breathing returned to normal. He looked up at Jason. “Why…? Why are you doing this to me?”

“We didn’t mean to call the government. Everything ever associated with you has had a firewall around it. Oracle can’t break in without alerting them. Why are they after you?”

“Batman and the league called them.”

“I…. They’ve never worked with the government.”

“Right.”

“Seriously.” Danny still looked skeptical Jason raised a hand calmingly. “Okay. Let’s pause that. Why do you think they would call them on you. What happened?”

“There was a lot of… weird and dangerous stuff happening in my town…. With me. I kept calling the league and leaving them messages. First asking for help… then asking for someone to just talk to me… make sure I wasn’t… going to hurt someone. Then the GIW showed up…”

“What does GIW really stand for?”

“We always called them the Guys in White, because that’s all they wore… but..” Danny took a fortifying breath. Jason noticed he was shaking. “Ghost Investigation Ward. See… my parents… were inventors and I accidentally turned myself into a halfa when I fixed something of theirs…”

Jason stared. It was a lot to take in. Bruce wouldn’t have ignored a kid asking for help. Hell, Supes or the Flash could have been there and back in less time than it took him to have a cup of coffee. So many questions ran through Jason’s mind, starting with why had he been the one the universe picked for this? Dick and Tim were both more emotionally available, able to give more than just a ‘there there’ or ‘that’s rough buddy’. Instead of the reasonable questions, like ‘what kind of weird things?’ or ‘what are you capable of?’ Jason just asked “Halfa?”

“Half ghost. Half human. Technically I died in my parents’ basement. But also I didn’t.”

“Is that how you knew it was me?”

“Yeah. Gotham has a little ambient ecto, all the violent deaths here. Not as much as home but, it works. You died once too though, pretty… permanently. But your core was still weak. It’s formed up a lot more with me, but it’s…. Like a fingerprint.”

“I need to tell B. That you’re being hunted by the government guys and why you think it was him and the league that sold you out. He’s going to want to crack the firewall, and probably hear your side of the story himself.”

“Just… when they come give me as much of a heads up as you can. We were… or you pretended we were friends. You owe me that much.”

“If I have to take on those dicks myself, I will. I won’t let them keep hunting you here. Those of us that died but got better have to stick together.”

Danny still looked suspicious. Jason didn’t blame him. “When he cracks the firewall, he’s going to learn who I really am. If…. If he wants me to trust him, I need to know who he really is.” Danny eventually said, quietly. Jason didn’t blame him.

“I’ll tell him that.” Jason didn’t know what Bruce would say to that. He assumed the answer would be as close to ‘No fucking way in any hell that exists or was ever imagined’ as Bruce got. But he would ask.

Danny nodded. Seeming smaller and way older than he should. Looking like a man that hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in years. Like every drop of anything worth anything had been wrung out of him. Jason knew that feeling. He wanted to make Danny feel safe again. If Danny really did try to avoid hurting people, he deserved safety.

He could have outed Jason to the whole town. He didn’t. Jason thought that was something. “I’ll talk to him.” Jason promised again.

[local-diavolo-anon]

i'm back!

ok so 2/3 days ago i found this youtube video where op turned Springtrap (or well, William Afton) into a fully build DnD character, and if i say so myself: things got out of hand fast

so here is my take on DnD Springtrap and specifically on that build (adding more infos under the cut for who is interested, i suggest to watch the video first)

starting with saying that unless you're playing in a scifi setting, this build is either not for you or to be modified, since in later levels spells are heavily centered around technomagic and electronic devices; personally when i will play him i will probably tinker around with the chosen spells and cantrips to make him less violently niche and/or more versatile

which kinda saddens me because it takes away not little of the characterization but, given most dnd stories take place in a medieval fantasy or high fantasy setting, a cantrip like On/Off or a spell like Remote Access are NOT particularly useful; so i will go for more psychic damage or necromancy oriented abilities, maybe i might take more than just 4 levels in artificier as well (especially given that again, all of those warlock spells at later levels are all technology oriented) but i need to see what those offer

however it is a kinda tank-y build given that with a shield on you can get up to a 27 of Ac, so even with low damage and not much hp you would not struggle too much to stay alive, and i like that!

as for the character himself, i put too much effort into my interpretation not to share it, so if anyone wants to play this guy as well, i fabricated a possible backstory that might come useful:

The character goes by the name "Dave Miller" (or whatever variant you want to use), and was originally a human artificier who created constructs for a living, mainly with the goal of offering aid to who needed it for whatever reason.

There however he ran into an issue, that being that a robot need a power source, and his own heart and lungs could not sustain a whole robot by themselves.

After losing part of his family to some kind of accident he became terrified of death, so with age he started replacing his own body parts with machinery to delay his last days (which made him a cyborg), until the point where he was very very close to become just a robot.

(This part may or may not involve a pact with a deity of death, this entirely depends on how you want to play him but it would make sense since the build is an artificier/warlock hybrid)

Through particular and very much not illegal experiments tied to necromancy he discovered that the life force of a living being could be shared, and used as a form of fuel. (possibly: age lived of the creature used= amount of extra months you get)

Here comes the second problem: this only worked with intelligent creatures, and more specifically, it worked best with creatures of your own race, which meant that he either went around murdering people or he found another solution. Non same-race creatures worked as well but not as good and there were not easy to find in the middle of a city and with a shop tied to your name.

And here is where and WHY he'd join a party of adventurers: after some time, his reserves or fuel were running VERY thin, and running into a group of adventurers was a god sent because by joining their party he essentially got a free pass to kill whoever he wanted, and reduce them to a dried raisin after sucking some life force out of them. Doing so you learn that the mowe powerful the creature is, the more energy it produces as well.

Your goal, that you as the player are following, when role-ing your character? essentially slay whatever powerful BBEG your Dm throws at you and suck all of that juicy fuel out of them, so that you can return to your little shop in the middle of the capital and return to create and sell whatever weird construct, doll, or robot comes to your mind for another few decades undisturbed.

And this is it. I think this might be a good backstory that could fit pretty much any setting you want to play this guy into, be it classic dnd or some scifi futuristic thing.

of course you don't NEED to use this one line per line, make up your own without looking back if you don't like it lol, dnd is the "make up shit and have fun" game after all!

Edit: also no his outfit makes no sense, i just went with vibes and decided a tanktop dress shirt, a twin tailed gilet and suspenders OVER said gilet was a good choice.

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

Theory as to Why Disney's Hades Wanted to Overthrow Zeus

So, I was thinking recently about why Hades tries to overthrow Zeus in Disney's Hercules. The reason that the Muses give us is because he "thought the dead were dull and uncouth", but that feels super flimsy to me as an excuse. Especially when we see Hades say this:

He points out the scheme's been around for 18 years, which means that Hades had set up the hostile takeover scheme right around Hercules's birth, but he hadn't checked with the Fates until the day Zeus had that party for Hercules on Olympus. How do we know he hadn't checked before? Clotho tells Lachesis they are not supposed to tell anyone the future. I doubt she'd argue if they'd already told Hades the future of his plans before.

Also, while Hades may not like his job, his job makes him the most powerful king because EVERYONE will eventually become his subject. Why would he even want to rule over the living if he thinks the dead are so dull and uncouth? It's not like being dead robs you of intelligence or good manners... So why then would he want to rule Olympus and overthrow Zeus?

Well, I noticed this in the song "One Last Hope".

The song has Fall and Winter. If you've studied Greek Mythology, you know that means Hades is married because Fall and Winter happen in Greek mythology when Persephone is in the Underworld. We actually do see Persephone and Demeter in several shots on Olympus in the movie.

On top of that, Hades says this when he's offering his deal to Hercules.

I think that Hades decided to overthrow Zeus because he was angry that Persephone had to spend Spring and Summer with her mother, rather than being his wife and Queen all the time AND on top of that, he had to take the rap for Demeter causing a mass famine over her daughter's marriage to him. Here's why I think this.

When Hades shows up, he tries to break the ice with a joke, but we see the party glaring at him. You know who we don't see? Demeter, who by all accounts, SHOULD be there and the ANGRIEST with him. After all, in Greek myth, he kidnapped his wife. But she's noticeably ABSENT.

The ones glaring at him are Ares, Athena, Poseidon, Dionysus/Bacchus, and Aphrodite. All people who were likely massively affected by the massive famine Demeter put in place. Wars and tactical strategies don't go well if the people are starving to the point of death, repopulation drops if there's not enough food, if there's no grapes growing, there's no wine or drunken madness, and besides the ocean, Poseidon is also over horses and many horses likely died due to lack of plant growth. But they don't seem to be mad at Demeter, given Poseidon is chatting with her earlier in the scene.

Instead, all the ire seems to be directed at Hades, who, as far as we know, hasn't DONE anything to warrant that reaction. All he did was tell a poor joke, but everyone is looking at him like he caused a major problem by being there. Hades brushes their reactions off and starts trying to play nice and then Zeus grabs him and says, "You finally made it!" And notice Hades's face here:

Hades looks so uncomfortable with Zeus trying to make small talk, but he's trying to hide his negative emotions. He's forcing a smile and when Zeus asks how things are in the Underworld, he responds with this:

Hades, then focuses on Hercules, and doesn't seem to have a problem with him until he crushes his finger, but the point where Hades drops the mask and shows his ire is when Zeus says "Join the celebration!"

He says, "Hey! Love to, babe, but unlike you gods lounging about up here, I, regrettably, have a full-time gig, that you, by the way, so charitably bestowed on me, Zeus. So, can't. Love to but can't." He then quickly leaves.

I hear this as Hades subtly reminding Zeus that he has a taxing job that he can't be away from too long, especially now that the one person who SHOULD, by all means, be there to help him with the load of running the Underworld, can't be there half the time to help him get the excess work under control. Persephone, unlike the rest of the wives in the Greek Pantheon, has EQUAL power to Hades, which means that if she'd been able to be with him all year, they'd likely get the work done faster and could do things other than work.

Zeus makes a joke about Hades working himself to death, a few of the Olympians laugh, but again, Demeter and Persephone are missing from the scene.

Hades, however, is very upset at the joke at his expense and he mutters, "If only... If only..." when Zeus says he kills himself. Back in the Underworld, Hades says this about Zeus.

Now, we just saw Zeus be super welcoming to Hades at the party for Hercules. Why on Earth would Hades call Zeus "Mr. High and Mighty, Mr. "Hey, you, get off of my cloud"? I think Zeus behaved this way when Hades argued against the summons for Persephone to return to Demeter. Persephone is the Queen of the Underworld, and in myth, the reason Hades kidnapped Persephone? Her father, ZEUS, told him to do so.

Zeus is the reason for Persephone's kidnapping and marriage. Hades was following the law of Ancient Greece at the time. Ancient Greece was cool about many things, but women's rights? Not one of them. Greek men, if they wanted to get married, arranged it with the father of the bride. The mother and the bride herself had little to no say. So, in actuality, the one at fault when Demeter caused a mass famine? Zeus. The famine was actually targeting Zeus, because if all humans died, he'd get no more sacrifices, and all the dead become Hades and Persephone's subjects.

So I think that Zeus realized how ENRAGED Demeter was and made Persephone return to her mother, but Hades tried to argue against it because Persephone was his partner is a very demanding job and he'd gotten Zeus's permission, but Zeus used his title as King to force Hades to comply. As in, "I already decided, so we're done talking about it. Now, leave and go home." That would explain also why Hades says this:

Another thing I see as a hint to Hades attempting to overthrow Zeus because he's mad about the Persephone situation? When he's in the mortal world, Hades only destroys a few things. One is the statue of lovers that he uses as a throne when he's questioning Meg about Hercules's weakness, another is the vases of Hercules because he's mad that he can't beat him, but the other two? Plant life.

In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, the main source for the Hades and Persephone myth, it's Demeter who brings back spring and plant life because she's happy about Persephone's return to her, not Persephone herself making the plants grow. While this could just be Hades taking out his frustrations on his surroundings, I find it interesting that he DECIMATES a grove of trees because Hercules is alive and could muck up his plans and that he burns a flower when he figures Hercules's weakness, which are often a sign of Springtime. It's almost like he's taking out his anger at Demeter's famine costing him his wife by destroying the plant life that Demeter creates as some small way to vent his frustrations. And speaking of Hercules's weakness, once Meg points out that monsters haven't been working against Hercules, Hades says this:

Now, given by this point, we KNOW due to "One Last Hope" that Hades and Persephone are married. I think this played into him figuring out to use Meg against Hercules. On top of that, Hades says this when Hercules is worried about innocent people getting hurt because of the deal:

I think Hades might have the same mentality about overthrowing Olympus. Having his wife back is more important to him than the ire of the rest of Olympus. Having his wife back is more important than keeping the Titans locked away. Having his wife back is worth being hated by all of Greece. Given the short time frame of his plot and all these other little things in his behavior, I really do think the reason that Hades decided to overthrow Zeus was so he could reverse the order for Persephone to spend half the year with him and half the year with her mother. But that's just my little theory/headcanon.

TLDR: I think the reason Hades tried to overthrow Zeus in Disney's Hercules was because he was angry he could only be with Persephone half the year.

[wolverigrl]

Hormonal

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: I can't anymore with this man. I'm not quite sure with this part, bit I still you enjoy it!

Warnings: mentions of Body Dysmorphic Order, angsty, a bit of fluff

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It had been almost two years since Hugh and I started dating, and life had finally settled into a wonderful routine. After the initial whirlwind of being labeled Hollywood's Power Couple, the constant media attention had finally calmed down. But even though the paparazzi had shifted their focus to new drama, we were still very much the couple that people looked up to - whether we liked it or not.

Hugh and I had been filming The Greatest Showman together, and it had been a dream come true for both of us. Playing Charity Barnum alongside him as P.T. Barnum was not only a professional highlight but a personal one. Every day, we got to share scenes, rehearse, and spend quality time together on set.

I'd also gotten close to his kids, Oscar, who was 15, and Ava, who was 10. Oscar was a typical teenager - sometimes distant but warm when it mattered. We bonded over our shared love for movies and music, and I had taken him to a few smaller premieres, which was pretty cool for him. Ava, on the other hand, was full of energy, always dragging me into whatever creative project she had going on. She loved to ask me about the costumes on set, always asking if I could sneak her something "cool" from the wardrobe department. We'd grown really close, and I adored being part of their lives.

Even Hugh's ex-wife, Deborra, had been nothing but gracious. I was worried about how our relationship might affect things with her, but she was kind and supportive from the start. We'd even had a few chats over coffee, which eased any awkwardness. There was no competition or resentment - just a shared love for Hugh and the kids.

But lately, something had shifted inside me. It started with the paparazzi photos. They had caught me in unflattering poses or oversized sweaters, and suddenly, the media was speculating that I might be pregnant.

One morning, while Hugh was making coffee, I decided to make light of the rumors.

I sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling through my phone and looking at the latest article headline: 'Is y/n pregnant? Signs Point to Yes!' I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, babe." said casually, glancing at him as he poured his coffee, "Apparently I'm Pregnant."

Hugh, mid-sip, immediately choked on his coffee, sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. "What?" he coughed out, his eyes wide in shock before a laugh escaped him. "What are you talking about?"

I snickered, showing him the article. "According to the tabloids, we're expecting!"

Hugh’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but then he tilted his head, a hint of concern creeping into his expression. “Well, your period’s still coming, though... right?”

I froze. The smile on my face faltered for a moment, and I realized, in that split second, that my period hadn’t come. It was late. Very late. I hadn’t even thought about it properly until now.

I must’ve looked shocked, because Hugh’s smile faded slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Right?”

I snapped out of it quickly, forcing a nod. “Yeah, of course. It’s just late.”

He stared at me for a moment, searching my face as if trying to figure out if I was serious. Then, with that signature Hugh charm, he broke into a grin, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close.

"How do they come up with this stuff?" He came over and kissed the top of my head. "You think they'd run out of things to speculate about?"

I laughed along, but something about the rumors hit closer to home than I was letting on. My body had changed recently. Despite working out regularly and eating well, I had gained a little weight. It wasn't much, but enough to make me feel insecure. And with the tabloids dissecting every detail of my appearance, it had started to eat away at me.

Hugh didn't seem to notice - or, if he did, he never mentioned it. He was as loving and affectionate as ever, but for the last few weeks, I had started pulling away from him, especially when things got intimate. I couldn't help but think about my body every time his hands roamed over my skin. I wasn't the woman I was when we first met, and I hated that it was getting to me.

That night, after we'd finished filming, we finally had some quiet, time together. Hugh was in a playful mood, and as we curled up on the couch, a glass of wine in my hand, I could feel him inching closer. His fingers brushed lightly along my thigh, and I leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine.

"I miss this, love." he murmured against my ear, his voice deep and sultry. His lips trailed soft kisses along my neck, and I shivered under his touch. His hand slowly slipping under my shirt, inching up toward my skin.

My breath hitched, and for a moment, I wanted to lose myself in him. But as his hand started to lift my shirt, I tensed

"Hugh.." I whispered, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

He slightly pulled back, his brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" I swallowed hard, unable to meet his eyes. "I can't right now."

His frustration was palpable as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. "You've been pulling away from me for weeks, y/n. Every time I try to be close to you, you shut me out."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's not you." I said quietly. "It's me."

Hugh sighed, his expression softening as he reached for my hand. "Then tell me. Talk to me. What's going on?"

I hesitated, my heart racing in my chest. I didn't want to burden him with my insecurities, but I couldn't keep bottling it up either.

"I've gained weight." I admitted in a small voice, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap. "I've been working out, eating right, doing everything I'm supposed to, and my body's still changing. I feel.. different. And every time you touch me, l just.. I don't feel like myself."

Hugh's face softened as he pulled me into his arms. "Y/n." he whispered, his voice full of love, "you're beautiful and I don't care if your body changes. I love you, all of you. always will."

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I buried my face in his chest, grateful for his warmth, his understanding. "I know." I whispered, my voice breaking. "But it's hard. The media the comments, the expectations.. just don't feel like I measure up anymore."

Hugh tilted my chin up, his eyes locked with mine. "You don't have to measure up to anything. You're enough, y/n. You've always been enough."

I nodded, wiping my tears away. His words brought comfort, but the insecurities still lingered in the back of my mind. I knew I had to work through them, but having Hugh by my side made it feel a little less scary.

The next morning I woke up feeling lighter as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I decided to take control of the narrative. If people were going to speculate about my body, I will be the one to set the record straight.

I grabbed my phone and took a deep breath before snapping a photo of myself in my workout clothes. I wasn't hiding anything. No filters, no posing to hide the weight I'd gained. Just me, as I was.

I opened Instagram, uploaded the photo, and typed my caption:

>>y/n instagram: Alright, let's clear some things up. No, I'm not pregnant. Yes, I've gained some weight. And honestly? That's okay. Bodies thange, hormones do their thing and sometimes despite working out and eating right, your body just decides to go through a phase. I've been feeling insecure lately, and I know I'm not alone in that. But here's the thing - I'm still me. I still love my body, and I'm working on being kinder to myself every day. So if anyone else is out there feeling the same way, just know you're not alone. We're all more than our appearances, but we're allowed to love ourselves in every stage we go through.

Now, if you'll excuse me, l'm off to eat a piece of cake. No guilt, just love.😋<<

I hit post, my heart racing as I watched the comments flood in. The outpouring of support was immediate.

>>logan1noir: Thank you for being so real! You're beautiful no matter what!<<

>>celesty634: This made me cry, I've been feeling the same way, and it helps to know I'm not alone❤️<<

>>dcxmrvl22: You are GORGEOUS! Keep shining, girl🫶🏻<<

>>chrisevans: Proud of you!!❤️<<

>>blakelively: How do you look good in everything??<<

>>vancityreynolds: As your humble friend, I demand you to stop setting impossible standards for the rest of us!<<

>>zendaya: QUEEN👑<<

>>thehughjackman: Always proud of you my love❤️<<

Later that evening, Hugh and I hosted a small dinner at our house. Just a few close friends - Blake, Ryan, Zendaya, Zac Efron and some other close cast members were there.

The wine was flowing, and the laughter was contagious. But all day, I had been feeling a little off. I was moody, switching from happy to sad in the span of minutes, and I was feeling unusually hormonal.

Hugh noticed, of course. He always did. And I couldn't help but tease him throughout the evening. Little touches here and there, suggestive whispers when no one was looking. His reactions were priceless, the way his jaw would clench, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You're playing with fire, darling." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin as we stood by the kitchen island.

I smirked, leaning closer to him, my lips brushing against his ear. "What are you going to do about it?"

Hugh shot me a look that sent a chill down my spine, his hand resting on my lower back, his fingers teasing the hem of my dress. But before he could answer, Ryan came strolling over, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Ryan teased, raising an eyebrow as he eyed the two of us. "You two seem a little preoccupied tonight."

I laughed, pulling away from Hugh slightly, but not before I felt his hand give my waist a playful squeeze. Hugh shook his head, his expression amused but clearly flustered by the interruption.

"Just enjoying the evening." Hugh replied with a chuckle, trying to act casual, though I could see the heat still lingering in his eyes.

Ryan leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. "I hope you two are careful, though. With all that tension, you might just end up giving those pregnancy rumors something real to work with."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, Blake sauntered over, a knowing smile on her face. "He's right, you know.: she said, her eyes twinkling with humor. "You two have that look - like you're up to something."

Blake's eyes lingered on me a little too long, and I noticed her frown slightly, as if reading something in my expression that I hadn't yet figured out myself.

Later in the evening, after dinner was served and the conversation had flowed naturally from movie projects to family gossip, I excused myself to the kitchen for a moment to gather my thoughts. I was feeling off - moody, emotional, and kind of disconnected.

Blake followed me, her eyes sharp as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "Okay, spill it."

I blinked at her you talking "What are you talking about?"

Blake tilted her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "You've been acting... odd tonight. Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. "Blake, no! I'm definitely not pregnant! I even joked with Hugh about that this morning."

She studied me for a moment, her gaze still concerned. "It's just... I've been pregnant three times now, and I can spot the signs. You're giving off all the vibes."

I sighed, leaning against the counter and rubbing my temples. "I don't know.. I mean I've been feeling weird lately, but I just thought it was stress. l've gained some weight, my moods are all over the place, but I don't think I'm pregnant."

Blake softened, placing a hand on my arm. "If you ever wanna talk about it, you know I'm here, right?"

I smiled at her, appreciating her concern. "Thanks, Blake. I think I just need to figure out what's going on with my body."

The night ended on a good note, with everyone laughing and chatting as they left. Ryan, of course, couldn't resist making one last joke. "Don't go making any little Jackmans tonight, okay? Or at least wait until we're gone."

I rolled my eyes, waving them off, "Shut it, Ryan!"

Once the house was quiet and the dishes were done, I finally let out a deep breath, grateful for the silence. But as soon as I sat down on the couch, I felt a familiar cramp in my lower abdomen.

I froze, my eyes widening. "No way!"

I hurried to the bathroom, and sure enough, there it was. My period had arrived. I wasn't pregnant.

Relief washed over me, mixed with an odd sense of joy. After all the speculation and confusion, my body had finally given me an answer.

I returned to the living room, finding Hugh still in the kitchen, cleaning the last wine glasses. He looked up as I entered, and I couldn't help but grin.

"What's with the smile?" he asked, setting the glasses down and coming over to me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. "You're going to laugh." Hughs brow furrowed slightly. "Why?"

"Well I just got my period!"

Hugh blinked, then laughed softly, pulling me closer.

"Well, that's good to know. l'm glad you're not stressed about it anymore."

"Me too!" I said, leaning into his embrace, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

He kissed my forehead, his hands resting on my hips as he looked down at me, his voice soft and teasing. "So, since you're really not pregnant and everything's fine.. does that mean we can stop avoiding each other now?"

I looked up at him, biting my lip playfully. "You know I was thinking the same thing."

Hugh's eyes darkened with that similiar heat, and before I knew it, he had me pinned against the kitchen counter, his lips crashing into mine.

His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer, and this time, I didn't stop him. I didn't feel the need to. I felt confident, desired, and most importantly, loved. As his hands slipped under my shirt, his touch igniting a fire inside me, I let myself give in to him completely.

"Hugh..." I whispered, my voice breathless as his lips trailed down my neck.

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his own filled with love and desire. "I've missed this. I've missed you."

I smiled, my heart swelling with affection for the man in front of me.

"I'm not going anywhere."

And with that, we lost ourselves in each other, the weight of the past few weeks melting away as we found comfort and passion in each other's arms. The insecurities, the rumors, the stress - it all disappeared as we reminded each other of what really mattered.

In the next morning, the world felt a little brighter. I've got an overwhelming support after my post and Hugh was by my side through everything. We spent the morning lazily wrapped up in each other, laughing and talking about the future.

Hugh kissed me softly, his hand gently tracing patterns on my skin.

"You know, I love you just the way you are, right? No matter what."

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"I know and I love you too. Always."

Our love had been tested, but we came out stronger than ever. And as I lay there in his arms, I knew that no natter what life threw our way, we would face it together.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

Next part

[captain-huggy-bear]

I've never been skating a day in my life, my Aunt promised she'd take me when I was 11 but never did. Irony is my dad apparently used to speed skate. Anyway this was a shower thought, quite literally, I was in the shower when I thought of this Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

Enjoying the sport of hockey a dating a professional hockey player, did not mean that you were a skater. In fact you had never set foot on an ice rink in all your 2 and bit decades on this earth. I just...it had never happened. When you were young aunts and uncles had promised to take you but never pulled through, your parents had never really shown an interest and as you grew older it simply felt too intimidating to start, too scary to try. Especially with how clumsy you were off the ice.

Clayton had been begging you to let him teach you to skate since your first date, and it simply had reached a point where you couldn't justify saying no anymore...not when you were curious to see what it was like, not when he was so determined and desperate to teach you, not when he gave you that smile and told you to trust him...because you did trust him.

That trust is how you find yourself at an empty Delta Centre with Clayton kneeling at your feet with a skate in his hands. He looks ridiculously good, his hair has grown out to the sort of length that you enjoy running your fingers through, stubble just visible enough on his jaw and a cosy looking hoodie over his torso. The way he looks up at you is soft, gentle as he taps your knee and moves the open skate towards your socked foot.

"Put your foot in, sweet girl." You follow his direction without hesitation, doing what Clay says is as natural as breathing and you don't miss the way his smile turns up wider at the corners as he tugs on the laces of your skate.

It really shouldn't be attractive, someone tying your skates for you, but somehow Clay makes it so. Maybe it's the competency of it all, how he does it without hesitation or thought, tightening each skate just right like it's the easiest thing in the world to him. Maybe it's his hands, how his long fingers, that stupid ring gleaming, tug and twist at each lace as he ties a bow and double knots it. Maybe it's the way he smiles at you from underneath his lashes as he pats your foot once he's done, the sort of smile that always takes your breath away because you're not entirely sure what you did to deserve it being turned your way.

The nerves start to build in your stomach when Clayton finishes tying his own skates, reaching for your hands to pull you to your feet. It's silly really that you're so nervous about getting on the ice for the first time, but you can't help but shuffle slowly with him towards the ice, delaying the inevitable.

Clayton steps onto the ice backwards, he barely even looks away from you, blue eyes fixed on your face as you grip his hands tight. He leads you onto the ice, doesn't let go of you even as you hunch over, scared of standing up straight in case you fall flat on your face.

"Baby, you can stand up, just bend your knees..."

"No...no..."

"Baby," You look up at him, still bent at the waist. Clay looks so utterly amused with you that if it were anyone else you'd be deadly embarrassed, "trust me."

You take a deep breath, puffing out your cheeks but forcing yourself to straighten, knees bending slightly as Clay starts to skate further backwards, pulling you with him.

At first its absolutely terrifying, you're frozen in place, the only reason you're moving at all is Clay pulling you along. But, slowly, slowly you start to move your feet, start to unlock your body, until Clay holds you by one hand and not two, letting you skate somewhat under your own power.

"See you're getting it!" It's when he starts to let go of your hand, fingertips leaving yours as you scramble for him that you start to panic again. Left entirely under your own control without the reassurance of his touch, it doesn't matter that he's right next to you, that he can grab you in and instant because he's not holding your hand anymore.

"Clay..." You're trying not to panic but your voice starts to grow in pitch, body starting to jerk a little in panic, movements not as smooth.

"Atta girl, you're doing just fine without me, baby." The smile should be reassuring, should provide you with a boost of confidence and pride, but it doesn't because you're picking up speed, feet feeling like they're going to fly out from under you. Your arms starting to flail as you panic.

"Clayton! Clayton!" He's there before you can even consider falling, left arm wrapping around your back, hand resting on your throat, thumb under your jaw as your pulse hammers underneath his palm.

"I gotcha, it's okay, I gotcha, baby." Clay pulls you tight into his side, solid, warm, and his fingers tighten slightly under your jaw, not hurting, not controlling but a steady, warm and familiar weight that reminds you to breathe, to refocus yourself, "Take a breath, baby"

You rest your forehead against his shoulder, letting out shaky breaths as Clayton skates the two of you around slowly. "I'm sorry..." You mutter it against him because you feel like a whimp, you feel silly, like you're ruining this for him. His fingers flex against your throat, arm solid around your back as you move together.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, sweet girl...it's scary when you're not used to the ice. You're fine." You can feel the kiss he presses to the top of your head, the way he leans his weight just to do it, the sort of shift that makes your stomach feel queasy even though you trust him not to let you fall.

"I just...I feel like I'm ruining this for you..."

"Baby," He pulls the two of you to a stop in the centre of the ice, skating in front of you until he can cup your cheeks and force your eyes to meet his, "You're not ruining anything. I just wanted to spend time with you, that's all I want. I don't care if it's skating or a hike or a movie or just a drive. I'm happy because I'm with you, baby."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Clay huffs out a laugh, not because he finds you funny or because he's making fun of you, but because it's so sweet how you don't seem to realise how much he wants to just be around you, "I just want to be around you, sweetheart. Whenever. Wherever."

"I do want to skate though...I just...it's really scary."

"I know, but we'll keep trying. Rome wasn't built in a day, right?"

[drusill-a]

[WWDitS finale spoilers]

Aside from the obvious – the gross shipbaiting and mocking naive viewers who dared to believe an m/m dynamic could be treated as anything other than the butt of the joke – my biggest issue with the WWDitS finale is that it’s an ending that could have made sense… but at most after s2. Back then, we were still watching a story about characters who didn’t share any particular bonds (except for Nadja/Laszlo) and who were entirely static, unaffected by the things they experienced.

The thing is, the creators themselves realized you can’t build a long-running story on that formula – eventually, the characters had to evolve at least a little, and their relationships had to deepen so viewers would have any reason to root for them. And so Guillermo’s position in the group began to change – first, he earned their minimal respect, then a very solid place, until finally, in season 5, all the other characters had reached a point where they didn’t even hide that they genuinely cared about him a lot. The same happened with Colin, who at first was completely left out by the other housemates but gradually earned an equal spot in the group and developed that stupid yet sweet bond with Laszlo (erasing those memories was, imo, one of the writers’ biggest mistakes). Laszlo showed himself capable of empathy, which he proved again in s5 by helping Guillermo, and even Nadja, who used to completely disregard everyone’s feelings, had several moments in later seasons where she openly cared – at least in her own way –  about the others.

And of course, that’s how we got the romantic subtext between Guillermo and Nandor. Over all those seasons – from s3 up until s6 – I was certain it was a classic will they, won’t they dynamic that would end with them getting together. I just couldn’t believe the writers would spend the last 4 seasons making their relationship more equal and showing Nandor’s journey to realizing Guillermo genuinely mattered to him, only to do nothing with it – or worse, regress them back by three seasons. But the late s6 Nandor’s “no homo” attitude has very little in common with the Nandor from seasons 4 and 5, who was openly pining and lusting after Guillermo.

From Guillermo’s perspective, this ending is an absolute tragedy – even the end of the previous episode gave him much more hope. Maybe he’d lost his lifelong dream and still hadn’t found a new purpose, but he had found a family and a place in the world, with a potential chance to build something meaningful with Nandor in the future. I don’t understand why this episode had to undo all of that – to show us that none of his friends really listen to him, that the power dynamic with Nandor will always be uneven, and that ultimately he wasted 16 years, and no one would really care that much if he left. Considering how great Guillermo’s development was, especially in gaining confidence from s4 onward, this ending feels so unfair and insulting to his character.

I feel like the writers’ biggest mistakes have been forcing a return to the status quo after every season. After the breakup in s3, the characters should have stayed apart for at least an episode or two. Colin should have remembered that Laszlo raised him, and they should’ve kept their funny, fucked-up father-son relationship until the end of the show. Guillermo should’ve been a real vampire for at least a full season—or, in my opinion, permanently—because, as it turns out, the writers had absolutely no idea what to do with his character once he lost that goal. Relationships that had evolved shouldn’t be randomly reset by a couple of seasons just because the writers couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort to write anything new for them.

You can’t have your cake and eat it too – if the writers were so dead-set on giving us an  ending that says “nothing in these characters’ lives matters, and nothing will ever change,” they should have made the show half as long and spared viewers the trouble of getting invested in character and relationship arcs that ultimately went nowhere.

This is a comedy show that was supposed to make people feel better. After this finale, I feel mocked by the creators for believing that the queer ship they sold me for 4 seasons had a chance of being treated equally to an m/f ship. I’m also sad because the characters were regressed and left stuck in eternal limbo, and generally I feel ridiculed because the writers openly made fun of us for getting emotionally invested in the story they wrote for us.

And maybe the biggest crime of these last few episodes was that they weren’t even remotely funny—so you can’t even say they prioritized comedy over character development, because it failed on that front too.

[hidingwhere]

Hybrid Task Force 141 x Human Reader AU

Hybrid AU where 99% of the world are hybrids and the only remaining humans are either hiding away or being taken by those of power for experimental use. After all, humans are such strange, complex creatures to hybrids.

The Task Force 141 are on a mission in an unknown country, cold and frost lingering against their bones and leaving them with a constant chill. All four of the men were wolf hybrids, hence why they were a task force. They stuck together through thick and thin and battlefields of violence.

However, one day, when stalking through the woods with guns strapped over their backs and heavy clothing to keep them warm, they stumbled upon a little creature. Kyle, who spotted you first, thought you were a little cat, maybe a snow fox suited for the weather… until he saw your pale face and human ears. Human ears. That fact itself almost stopped him in his tracks.

What was a human doing in an awful snow storm like this? He approached slowly, crouching down before pulling you forward and taking a long sniff of the air. A human, confirmed. He called the others over urgently, grabbing at the thin material of your jumper and jeans and watching your scared little expression become even more petrified when seeing three men appear from behind the first.

“Bloody hell,” Johnny mutters. “What the hell is a human doing ‘ere?”

“They’ll die out here if we don’t get them somewhere warm,” Price adds on gruffly, his wolf-like ears pushed back unhappily at the weather.

“They’re scared,” Simon points out. “Gotta hope they ain’t a fighter otherwise they’ll be giving themselves a death wish staying out here.”

Kyle turned to look back at you again, your body reeking of anxiety and nerves as he didn’t let go of your jumper. “Darling, you’ve gotta come with us, alright? We’ll keep you safe.”

No reply. Not a single word. He purses his lips before quickly making a decision and hauling the child up into his arms. “Come on, we need to get back to the cabin.”

You’re surprisingly compliant as they walk back to their temporary place, not struggling or trying to run away. They wonder if the cold has affected you so badly that you have no energy to try and fight back, or you don’t realise what’s actually happening. Kyle sits you down by the log burner in the living room upon the old carpet. The fire sparks and produces masses of heat that slowly wafts over to you as John wraps a blanket around you.

Your head falls back in exhaustion but John stops it and pushes it forward again, watching your slow blinks and disorientated movement.

“Can’t believe there was a child out there,” Johnny voices suddenly makes an appearance as he walks from the kitchen. He hands John a freshly made hot water bottle who then proceeds to place it on your small feet.

“When’s the last time you saw a human, eh?” He asks John, crouching down beside you.

“Years back.”

They soon set up a little make-shift bed on the floor besides the warm fire and let you rest. When you wake up, the fire is slowly settling down and emitting less heat. That is however until Johnny chucks another wooden log on the burner. It crackles wildly as you sit up, blinking and looking around. You feel a thick blanket beneath you that still doesn’t cover the feeling of the hard wooden floor.

“You alright, kid?”

You stare, perplexed, at the man in front of you. He’s human except for the… wolf ears. They flicker every few seconds, twitching.

“You feeling warm?”

No reply.

“Still in a little bit of shock?”

No reply.

Suddenly, Simon walked into the room, the bottom part of his balaclava pulled up as he sipped on his tea.

“‘M fucking freezing,” he says as he passes Kyle. You watch the little interaction, the massive masked man so casually drinking tea with a mug in his hand. You slowly look to Johnny.

“That’s Simon, he’s not as scary as he looks, I swear. The one that just walked past is Kyle, the one with the beard is John and I’m Johnny.” He smiled at you.

“Where am I?” You ask quietly. “I was in the woods… woke up here.”

“Ah, well, we were on a little mission and saw you wondering about. Didn’t wanna let you freeze out there so… brought you to our temporary cabin.”

“But you’re… a wolf.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you stare up at the man. “Don’t you live in caves?”

He barks out a laugh at your statement, finding it amusing. You seemed like someone to have little to no knowledge about hybrids. “Nah, we live in normal homes.”

“And you’re all wolves?”

“Mhm.”

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize, Part 7 (Yan Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other parts

This is the next chapter in the main plot line - thank you for your patience as I dabbled in various AUs.

Thank you to @tryingandfailingtowrite for your invaluable editing and beta-ing and thank you to @sordidmusings for your comments, editing, and generally hyping me up way more than I deserve.

Anyway, enjoy!!

Your POV

Something had shifted between you and the Apex Alpha ever since the disastrous conversation Shanks forced out of you. For one, Shanks was now drinking every night as the Red Force sailed the seas of the New World. He would begin drinking at lunch and wouldn’t stop until he stumbled into the cabin you shared, tumbling into the bed with his hands searching for you. He didn’t pursue anything more than holding you tightly in his arms or sniffing at your scent glands as he ran his hands up and down your flanks. Whereas before he’d sprawled out on the bed, now it seemed like he had to keep at least one body part touching you at all times, even during the night. 

It wasn’t like Shanks was celebrating either. He’d drink near his crewmates or by himself while staring off into the sea. It didn’t seem to matter to him what was happening around him. His crew didn’t seem to notice or mind the change, long used to their heavy drinking Captain. Benn sometimes threw you sympathetic glances as Shanks pulled you onto his lap, but other than that, they ignored you. Shanks’s constant need for physical contact was driving you crazy. You could only hope the ship would be docking soon so you’d get some kind of reprieve. 

For as close as Shanks was keeping you physically, he was emotionally distant and kept his own counsel. His hands would roam your arms and sides, he didn’t speak to you in the same light-hearted tone as before. He wasn’t mean or cruel; he would still bring you food or drinks, but his previously warm pleasantries to you were spoken in a detached manner. In the mornings, he’d bring you a warm cup of herbal tea and wait with you until you finished it, taking the porcelain cup back with him to the kitchens. Even so, his smile wasn’t as present either with you or with the crew. Shanks was off in his own world, and you couldn’t bring him out of it.

After several days of giving Shanks space, your instincts had you running ragged any time you saw the Captain. The drastic change in Shanks’s nature was setting off your internal alarms - the Omega in you demanded you placate him. Your body was telling you that you’d upset him and that you needed to fix what was wrong. You knew the change stemmed from the conversation that he’d pried out of you, but even so you couldn’t resist the call to console and soothe. 

Your mind also railed against you - you’d upset one of the four Emperors. Sure, he’d been nice to you up until that point, but what if he got tired of your attitude like Kid had? The worst moments of your life had been when Kid was upset, using you as an emotional and physical punching bag to work through his anger. And Kid had been decimated by Shanks while only using a fraction of his power - you couldn’t imagine how much worse your predicament would be under an angry Shanks. You didn’t want to find out.

Between your anxiety, biological drive, and Shanks’s distant mood, you weren’t comfortable or able to relax on the ship. You listened to every sigh for a break in Shanks’s nearly palpable tension.

One day, after Shanks silently watched you drink your morning tea, you couldn’t bear it anymore. The ship had been sailing for about ten days with no islands in sight on the horizon, and Shanks still hadn’t broken out of his stupor. You’d even gone to Benn to ask for advice, though being near another Alpha while Shanks was upset caused your anxiety to spiral. It was still the better option to get advice rather than let Shanks’s bad mood continue. You’d approached Benn while he was smoking and reading the newspaper in the early morning sun, while Shanks still slept.

“Mr. B-Beckman, I -”

“Just Benn,” he replied, his eyes still trained on the paper.

“Benn, I…I um, don’t know, is Shanks…is he, um-” you stammered and fidgeted as Benn continued to read, feeling like a child about to be reprimanded by an adult.

“He’s fine. He’ll perk up eventually.” Benn said in a bland tone, putting out his cigarette in the glass ashtray. His movements were unhurried as he folded up his paper and left to go below deck. You chewed on your lower lip, tasting blood after a few moments. Was he mad at what you’d told Shanks too? Did he know what you’d said? Or did he just have nothing else to say to you? Was the whole crew mad at you? Your gut churned as you continued to overthink the interaction. Every possibility only twisted your tangled emotions further into knots as you returned to the cabin. 

Shanks was stirring, so you quickly got back into the bed before he noticed you weren’t next to him. You typically woke before he did but one morning, he hadn’t found you next to him upon waking and was even stormier in thought and action throughout the day. Now you made sure to be in bed when he woke to try and mitigate the day’s brooding.

“Good morning, Omega,” he said formally, pushing his red bangs off his face with the back of a hand before he pulled you closer. His hair was longer than you’d ever seen it; maybe he should have taken that haircut on the island in your stead.

“Good morning, Shanks,” you said quietly, aware that he wasn’t looking for conversation. He tucked you into his side and ran his fingers down your spine as his eyes took on a faraway look. Your nose wrinkled in displeasure when the scent of last night’s booze hit you. He remained silent as he continued stroking your skin, and you pressed your lips together as a means to focus. Your mind took on a frenzied state, your instincts screaming for you to lick his neck or kiss him or talk or do anything to make him feel better. Your fingers twitched and you almost reached for him but stopped short. The image of Kuro’s blood dripping down Shanks’s throat had you balling your fists to combat your instinctive need to soothe him. You didn’t want to do anything without permission, you were frightened that any unwanted action would threaten the tenuous balance that Shanks was riding right now.

“I’m sure you’ve been up for a while. I’ll go get your tea,” he said in a monotone and pressed a kiss to your forehead before letting you go.. You were practically in tears as he stood up and straightened his spine, so different from the easy shuffle he’d had when you first met. He almost looked like a different person, now stiff and formal, when he’d been so carefree in the past. His dead eyes roved over you, finding nothing worth lingering on before he left the cabin. 

You sat up in the bed and quickly went rifling through his worn shirts, sniffing for the one with the strongest scent. Throwing off your clothes, you donned the extra large shirt and brought the collar to your nose. You took a deep inhale of the Alpha’s scent to calm you down, though you found it slightly soured by the stench of alcohol. Still, you inhaled the rich scent slowly, as if you were savoring it like a fine brandy. You took a few more breaths before the cabin door opened again, revealing the Emperor with your porcelain tea cup.

His eyes flicked over you before giving you a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Outfit change?” he asked, extending the teacup. 

“Thank you, Shanks,” you said as you nodded and took it with shaking fingers. Shanks reached out to steady the cup, seemingly concerned about the tea inside. 

“Whoa, steady. Don’t get it on the bed,” he said, making sure it was cradled in your hands. Once Shanks was satisfied that you had the tea secure, he sat next to you on the bed and loosely wound his arm around your shoulders. “Drink it while it's still warm,” he said tonelessly, his fingers tilting the cup upwards as you sipped the beverage. It seemed like the flavor intensified every day, but you didn’t mind. The tea had a strong woodsy flavor, not something that you’d pick for yourself, but it wasn’t bad either. 

The two of you sat in silence side by side as you sipped, the ship rolling through the currently calm waters. Even though a part of you was calmed by completing a task Shanks asked of you, the lack of emotional connection still drove your immense anxiety. You tried to drink the tea as quickly as you could without burning yourself, eager to show your compliance. Once he saw you had finished the beverage, he held out his hand for you to return the cup. You placed it gently in his palm and Shanks moved to rise from his spot next to you on the bed. Your mind was screaming at you that now was the moment to act; when he was calm and sober, you needed to fix everything . 

“W-wait, please...pl-if you want,” you stammered, sure you were making a fool of yourself. You scanned his impassive face as his eyebrow quirked up.

“Is something wrong?” he asked in a neutral tone, moving the cup to a bedside table. “Did something happen?”

“No, I just…I -” You wrung your hands together as you spoke, unsure what words would both convey your meaning as well as not anger him further. His face softened a little as he raised his hand towards your face. You consciously avoided flinching back as he stroked your cheek with one finger. The tension was so high and you didn’t know how to fix it; you could no longer hold back and your eyes filled with tears. 

“What’s wrong, little Omega? What’s making you upset?” he said gently, his brown eyes finally focusing on you as he turned completely to face you. You felt like you were moving automatically as you finally moved in an attempt to mollify the Emperor. Your emotions fueled your decisions as you moved yourself to straddle his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled yourself closer to his own potent scent glands, his rich scent calling to you like a siren, and buried your face in his neck. 

“Mm? This is new,” he said with mild interest, his arm running down your back. You choked back a sob as you felt his fingers roving over the shirt and pushed your face further into his warm, salty skin. You didn’t know what to say or do, usually Shanks led and you followed, but he wasn’t leading. There was nothing for you to follow, he was upset with you, with what you said, what you didn’t say, what you did wasn’t working, nothing was working, he was upset, everyone was upset. Everything was unbalanced and unwell and not right and ruined….

So you did the only thing you could think of at that moment. You put your mouth over his scent glands and bit down. Hard.

Shanks pushed your head back from the crook of his neck gently but firmly, his brows knit together in confusion. You’d heard that when Alphas’ scent glands were bitten, they felt intense pleasure, but Shanks hadn’t made any noise or even movement. He didn’t like it, he was rejecting you, he didn’t want you anymore, he was too upset to keep you, he was going to sell you-

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked quietly, his hand reaching to cradle the back of your head.

Shanks POV

It had taken all of Shanks’s considerable self control not to moan when the Omega had bitten his scent glands. Even now, he wanted to push your head back into place to where you’d been buried in his neck and have you sink your teeth into him again. It was his dream come true, his fantasy, to have you claim him like he so desperately wanted to claim you.

Hongo had unearthed a rare book about Omegas at the previous island and Shanks had finished it over the course of one night. In the past, Omegas had often marked their mates with a bite of their own, which Alphas wore proudly as a mark of distinction. A mating bite by an Omega didn’t have many biological implications beyond strengthening the bond already created by an Alpha, but it showed a love connection between partners. It had been a way to flaunt that partners weren’t only together by fate or designation, that they’d chosen one another. Obviously, things had changed once the availability of Omegas was disrupted by the Celestial Dragons but the idea held appeal. Shanks had told you he wouldn’t mark you until your next heat, and he’d hold himself to that promise. You , however, were free to mark him.

He’d been thinking deeply over the events of his life, drowning himself in whatever alcohol he could find. Ironically, it was the same method used by one of the men consuming many of his thoughts - Silvers Rayleigh. But it wasn’t just Ray that Shanks was reminiscing over - it was Buggy, Mihawk, Roger, Marco, Luffy, Makino, Crocus, Gabban, Shamrock. So many who’d chosen to cast him aside and abandon him when he needed them most. He’d come a long way, he’d had to, but the cost was high. No one had wanted him for who he truly was when he was just Shanks. They wanted the fool, the charmer, the Captain, the Emperor, the swordsman, the father, the brother, the son… but no one wanted him for just Shanks . 

Benn was the closest he’d come to having a true connection, and though it was grounding, it wasn’t enough. Something in Shanks needed someone to consume him whole, to take him as he was and leave nothing unturned and untouched. He ruminated about your near statements, about events in the past, friends lost, enemies gained - Shanks had been down this road many times seeking his answers at the bottom of a bottle of booze.

Despite his drinking, Shanks noticed your easily disturbed sleep and the bags under your eyes, so he put in extra effort to console you. Shanks reached for you constantly, trying to show you that he wasn’t going to harm you like he had Kuro on the island. That you would be safe even in his darkest moments. He’d been in deep funks before, he knew Benn and the crew would come to his aid if he buried himself too deep in his cups. 

Perhaps some of your desire to soothe him was driven by your biological needs, Shanks thought. He’d read that before the Celestial Dragons had disrupted the natural order, Omegas had generally been peacekeepers, able to ease tensions between the different designations. The book had made reference to other powers that Omegas had, but nothing specific was mentioned. Shanks was going to ask Hongo to follow up and find out further information on other islands - after he answered your mating call.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked, trying his best to keep his tone of voice even. The rising need within him was nearly choking his words but the Omega didn’t seem perturbed. You nodded with averted eyes while licking your lips, a perfect picture of submission. Shanks wanted to roar and claw at his skin, but gentled himself so as not to scare you. “We can always stop, I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t wish to do,” he whispered, pushing your hair out of your face. You tilted your head up to look at him, your pupils blown wide.

“I’m sure.”

 Shanks pulled your head towards his own as you wound your arms around his neck. You resumed your former position against his neck, this time kissing and sucking at his scent glands. Shanks did allow himself to groan as your hips started gently rocking against his own, his hand now gripping your outer thigh. Shanks’s cock was rock hard, ready to be buried deep within you as you marked his neck. 

Even as Shanks wanted to flip you onto your back and take control, he found your awkward movements on top of him to be rather sweet. You weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands - they kept flitting from his shoulders to his chest to his back - or with your hips. Shanks wasn’t sure you realized you were moaning as well, light little husks that had pre-come dripping from his cock. He smelled your arousal flowering in the air but wanted to give you the chance to take control. You could have discarded him like so many others had, but you’d come back to him even when he wasn’t at his best. Shanks wanted to show you that you did have choices and that with those choices, you had picked him. 

Your POV

You weren’t sure how to transition from sitting on Shanks’s lap to full blown sex. Shanks was more in the present than he had been since the island, and your instincts were telling you to continue to appease him. Even so, you didn’t quite know what to do and you hoped he couldn’t tell, or that if he did, it wouldn’t displease him. You’d finally been able to change his mood and you didn’t want to spoil it by doing something wrong. 

Before you’d been kidnapped by Kid, you were a virgin since you were always afraid of being with anyone in case your designation was somehow uncovered. With both Kid and Shanks, you’d never been allowed to take the lead - you weren’t even sure what that would look like.  There wasn’t a time you’d had sex with Shanks when you weren’t in heat and you didn’t remember most of the times when you did. You leaned back from Shanks’s neck and took the hem of his shirt with shaking fingers. As you started to raise it over your head, Shanks’s hand caught your forearm softly. 

“We don’t have to rush. There’s nowhere to go, nothing we need to do. We can take our time,” he said into your ear, his beard scratching your cheek. Shanks had stopped shaving a few days prior, the red stubble now an attractive short beard. Your breath hitched as you bit your lip - maybe he didn’t like what you were doing? You’d heard a moan a little while ago - should you bite him again, or maybe kiss him, or-

“Have you ever been on top?” Shanks asked, biting your earlobe gently after he finished speaking. 

“No,” you whispered back, flushing furiously at your lack of experience. You’d done a poor job of initiating, and now he was going to take over, you thought as you braced yourself to be pushed backwards onto the bed. 

“You can be, if you want. I’ll be good for you,” Shanks said teasingly with a genuine smile into the skin of your neck.  He practically purred when he continued and his body relaxed into a more familiar posture, “would you like that?”.

To your surprise, instead of flipping you back, Shanks lay down on the bed with you still on his lap. Now your hands landed on his chest as you leaned over him, your calves on either side of his hips. Shanks’s hand pressed on the middle of your back, bringing your face closer to his.

“What do you think?” he asked, a genuine smile lighting his features. You reflected his smile with your own, the sun finally peeking out from behind the clouds after a lengthy storm. 

“I’m not, um, good at this. I don’t know if you’ll like-”

“Don’t worry about what I like,” he hummed as he settled you more comfortably on top of him. “We’ll learn together,” he said as his fingers ran under the hem of his long shirt on your thighs. “Kiss me,” he husked, his hand reaching up to cup your face. Leaning over him, you planted your hands on either side of his head and took in his handsome features. You bent over and lightly kissed the top of the scar on his face, something you’d always wanted to do but had been too fearful to attempt. 

You worked your way down his face, Shanks allowing you to take your time in exploration. When you finally reached his mouth, he parted his lips but didn’t pull you towards him as you expected. You brushed your lips against his own as Shanks thrust up into you lightly, his heels digging into the bed. He whined as you kissed him again, this time allowing his tongue to sweep into your mouth. Shanks pulled you closer but only to kiss you deeper as he fought his own urge to take control. 

Breaking the kiss, you leaned even closer and began to nibble down his jaw. Shanks pressed himself into you, his hand returning to your thigh to increase the pressure on his aching cock.

“Please,” Shanks groaned as you worked your way down his neck. For the first time, it almost felt like you held power in your hands - one of the strongest men on the planet was whining beneath you, begging for you. It wasn’t real power in the same way as Kid or Shanks or anyone who could fight, but it was something for an Omega like yourself, you supposed. 

You lifted yourself onto your knees and pushed Shanks’s shirt up towards your waist to reveal your now glistening core. Shanks’s hand immediately found its way to its familiar resting place on your ass. After a quick squeeze, you heard the sound of Shanks unbuckling his belt as you leaned down to kiss him again. Shanks shuffled slightly, removing his pants without dislodging you with considerable skill. You felt the tip of his cock prodding at your backside so you reached behind you to feel for it. Your hand couldn’t wrap around its girth as you stroked him lazily. Shanks hissed as your hand continued to work him, your eyelids drooping as you watched Shanks close his eyes and pant wantonly.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, his hand gripping your thigh so tightly you knew there would be bruises the coming day. You placed your hand over his own to move his hand from your thigh to your core. Shanks immediately started running his long fingers through your folds, your wetness coating them liberally. He started to rub at your entrance but quickly moved to your clit, unable to decide where to touch you first. The rough pads of his fingertips started rubbing you, and you clenched in anticipation. You removed his hand from beneath you, wanting to concentrate on your actions. Shanks put his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence from them as if it were nectar of the gods.

“I need you,” Shanks growled, taking his fingers and putting them near your own mouth.

 As much as he was letting you take the lead, Shanks was still an Apex Alpha who was allowing this exercise to continue. You nodded and sidled backwards, positioning him at your entrance. Using your fingers you spread your folds to get the head of his cock poised to enter you. You lowered yourself down on his cock slowly, savoring the stretch as you sank down until your thighs met his own. You bit down on your lip as you closed your eyes, the pleasure intensifying with every inch he was further inside you. 

“Don’t hide from me,” Shanks said softly, his hand returning to rub at your clit. You opened your eyes as you continued biting your lips. This wasn’t like your heat, where everyone was off the ship. You knew for a fact there were crew milling about the ship, working and relaxing nearby. “Please, Love, let me hear you,” Shanks begged with a soft smile. You nodded and opened your mouth, but no sounds came out other than your panting.

“Start to rock on me, find what feels good for you,” he suggested in a low voice, his fingers continuing to tease. You shifted forwards and backwards as you continued to adjust to his size. It was difficult to believe that you’d taken him so many times during your heat, crying and calling out for him numerous times a day, even multiple times an hour. 

“Try moving your hips in a circle hah t-that’s it,” he crooned as you gyrated on him. Shanks’s heels dug into the bed once again as he resisted the urge to bounce you on his cock. “J-ust like that, s-so perfect,” he stuttered out, holding you in place for a moment to grind into you before returning his hand unerringly to your clit. You felt stuffed full as the band in your lower stomach wound tighter and tighter. 

It wasn’t as easy being on top as you thought. You wanted to please Shanks but couldn’t bounce yourself as quickly as he could thrust into you. You tried a rhythm that worked for you as you leaned forward to shift your weight onto your hands, lowering and raising yourself rapidly. You whined as your quads burned with the effort to continue your pace, but you didn’t want to stop. It felt like you couldn’t move fast enough for what you needed, though riding Shanks did feel pleasurable. You shifted to lean back and put your hands on his shins.

“I can’t c-come like this…c-can you…,” you trailed off, hoping that Shanks would understand the unasked request. Shanks laughed without malice and pulled you to lean over him again.

“We can practice again later, you did so well for your first time,” he said with a bright smile. You squeaked as he shifted and quickly rolled you both over so that you were now on your back, your legs still wrapped around him. “But you need something else, yeah?” he said with a grin as he shifted one of your legs over his shoulder. You did the same with the other, caught in a wicked mating press as Shanks settled his weight over you. It felt like he was melding his essence with your own as he began moving, thrusting deep within you.

Every movement he made hit your g-spot as Shanks also started licking your scent gland. He would whisper compliments to you in between nibbles and bites, which only drove your desire further.

“Such a good little Omega, so p-pretty, did such a nnh good job riding me…you need me, hm? Need this from me, just like I need y-you. Such a sweet hneh Omega…” Shanks continued a steady babble of soft praise as he pounded into you, his pace ever increasing. You tried not to hold back your sounds and close your eyes like he’d asked, but it was difficult to stay in the present as pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. Tears pricked your eyes at the mounting sensations, the coil in your gut winding increasingly tighter.

“Sh-aaanks!” you cried as you came around his length, your vision fading to white. You reared back your head and impulsively bit his own glands which were tantalizingly close to your mouth. He didn’t let up for a moment, fucking you without abandon as he roared his own orgasm, his hot come spurting inside you. 

As you came back down, you heard someone moaning and whimpering, only to realize it was coming from your own mouth. You hadn’t actually marked Shanks by penetrating his skin but if he had fucked you any harder, you weren’t sure you’d ever walk right again. Shanks was still stroking your clit so you whined and pushed his hand away. 

“C’n you give me one more?” he asked, his beard scratching at your neck. You shook your head weakly, unsure if you’d survive another round. “Aw, c’mon, Love. Just one more,” he said with a smile. You let out a light humph and removed your legs from around him, letting them splay to either side. Shanks laughed again and shifted the two of you to let you lie on his chest. “S’ok, you can rest,” he said, kissing the top of your head as you yawned. 

You laid down on top of the Alpha, content to let him take control from here on out. You’d finally coaxed him out of his bad mood and helped him regulate his emotions, which in turn was helping your own. You weren’t sure if you acted from self preservation or your base Omega instincts, but either way you felt content as you listened to the steady heartbeat of the Alpha beneath you.

Shanks POV

Shanks rubbed the back of the sleeping of the Omega in his bed, pulling the covers up higher on your body as you napped. Shanks was awake after the love making session, though you’d worn yourself out. He was pleased for you to have some true rest after the days of anxiety had worn you down. You finally trusted him enough to relax again in his presence, secure in the safety he provided for you.

The bite on his neck stung a little but it was the sweetest pain he’d ever felt. He tried to use his haki to determine if there was any headway into making a connection with the Omega but couldn’t detect anything different. Though a touch disappointing, he wouldn’t be concerned until after he marked you during your upcoming heat. Based on the medication he’d been giving you in the tea, you’d be in heat in about a week. Just as the Red Force was able to dock at another island. 

Shanks rubbed the bite gingerly, wishing that none of your shallow tooth marks would fade from his skin. It was funny - he had lost his left arm saving Luffy, gotten a facial scar on his left hand side from Teach, and now had an Omega’s bite on the left side of his neck. Significant events in his life were written in flesh and blood on his body, available for all to see. Well visible for a little while, until you made it permanent.

As Shanks watched over you sleeping, you let out a little sigh and nuzzled further into his chest, seeking his protection and warmth. Shanks let out a satisfied hum of his own - he’d finally won you over, you’d chosen him for protection, for connection, for love. All that was left was to seal it. 

Taglist: @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle @whore-of-many-hot-men @one-piecelover @anemonyee @joana7654-blog @mfreedomstuff @littlelovebug98 @hannya-writes @babi-lamb @sanjisleggy @princessuta061108 @twismare @iamrgo @littlelovebug98 @anonymousmuffinbear

[readychilledwine]

A Dance With Danger

Rhysand Week Day 6 - Worlds Axis

Summary - Dance with Danger - Learning the High Lord's secret has you on the run. Too bad he found you in the place you least expected

Warnings - setting up predator/prey play without touching the smut point, evil Rhysand theory *like way evil*, Liz used her favorite line from the bad Rings of power series, cliffs (in a couple of senses), threats, implied mention of the Winter Court incident

A/N - Happy Day Six of @officialrhysandweek ! I'm kind of excited about this little guy and what I could do with him. That hasn't happened in a while 👉👈 lemme know whacha think?

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

You were caught, and you knew it, but that didn't stop you from running, from using every tree as cover.

In reality, it was his own fault you had discovered this long hidden family secret. This constant ink smear on his father's family tree. Azriel had trained you far too well as a spy, Rhysand had trained you in too much detail as a researcher. You were too smart, and he had welcomed you in far too easily.

You had been running from him for over a week and a half now. Staying in animal forms until today when you somehow ended up in a different place while attempting to shift onto a new creature. You had a feeling where you were, but you continued to force him to chase just praying you were wrong.

He would blame that on your beautiful smile, on those innocent wide eyes, and the soft naivety in your voice. It didn't change his anger as he tracked you through the forest in Illyria. You had tried winnowing, but it was as if he'd already done something to you. Something that was keeping you trapped within the Night Court.

Nowhere was safe.

And it was almost your own fault for making it that way.

That smear in the family tree, that blurred name you had been stupid enough to unveil, was just the beginning. From that discovery, you'd learned through your shifting powers far more than Rhysand wanted you to. You should have left it alone, ignored that first eavesdropped conversation, but you know what they say"

Curiosity killed the cat.

You have learned his marriage to Feyre was fake. The bond was manipulated through magic. Magic he had planted to ensure she came to be by his side, and there would be no one powerful enough to stop him.

His death at the Cauldron had been planned. A way for him to gather pieces of life force from the other High Lords while also stealing some from a hysterical Feyre.

Nyx had been planned. A way to get Nesta to give her powers back to the Cauldron.

And Elain, poor Elain. The female had no clue what Rhysand and the Inner Circle had in mind for her. At least, if they could get her to reject the bond.

Rhysand had the very world itself playing in his hand, exactly how he wanted it. Thousands to bow to his feet, to worship him, and you now had the potential to jeopardize everything.

You continued running, lungs burning from the icy mountain air. He knew if he didn't catch you, you would die out here. You were so deep into the mountains that only he and his brothers could get you back at this point. Yet you still pushed on. Unknowingly irritating him further as a loud snarl tore through the woods near you.

It amazed you the level he had gone to in order to accomplish his plans. Collecting the most powerful beings in the land, placing them in his back pockets, and never looking back as he slowly began dismantling the other courts of Prythian one by one.

Spring had been a test. A successful one to prove to him that all High Lords had a price. A breaking point. He'd all but destroyed Tamlin with, as you had overheard him telling his brothers, “an only half decent cunt.” He knew the rest were weak as well.

Tarquin was naive. A spy already planned in his home.

Beron was prideful. His executor sleeping soundly in the bedroom near his.

Kallias was a new Father. Vulnerable. Emotional. Rhysand wasn't above killing children. He had already shown that.

Thesan was too smart to see anything coming. He believed the world was figured out. He believed he had the other courts figured out.

And Helion, loving, kind hilarious Helion? He'd follow Lady Autumn in her death is something…. Mistakenly happened to her.

Rhysand was cruel. He was the monster of legend he was made out to be.

And he was growing closer to you with each breath, each step, each beat of your heart.

A wrong turn ended the chase as you stared face to face with a cliff. The fall would be brutal, and you felt hope leaving you as you tried to think of any other way to escape.

“Well, little mouse, looks like you are out of options,” that feline line voice was enough to make to turn, facing your former friend and boss with neutral features.

“Rhysand.”

“At least you know your place. Only my-”

“Enemies and prisoners call you Rhysand. Yes, I've heard you use the same old line many times.”

One step back, one forward.

“What all do you know, Mouse?”

You didn't bother staying silent, watching as he began one step forward, and you one step back. “I know your plan to have all of Prythian under your thumb within the next year. To collapse the courts so quickly that no one can stop you.”

He began circling you like prey, gaze almost sad as he appreciated you one last time. You continued with a deep breath, “I know you planted the mating bond on Feyre through magic. That you are using her and her sisters. Who, you, actually sold out and paid Hybern to say was Ianthe's doing.”

He chuckled but didn't deny it. “And I know you are a quarter daglan.”

That made him stop, nodding slowly as he processed what you had said, “So, in summary, you figured out everything.” He circled you again, a look of disappointment beginning to show. “I had hoped to make something of you. To slowly bring you to my side and my web. Do you know how rare you are? How rare those precious powers of yours are given? Tamlin can't even take different forms as seamlessly as you can.”

One step forward.

One step back.

“I don't want to have to kill you, little mouse. Let's make an agreement?”

You shot him a look instantly, “What kind?”

“You join my Inner Circle, sworn to silence on all of this information, and I will still give you what I planned to. So long as you keep quiet and continue doing as you are told.”

One step forward.

One back that led to him grabbing you by your elbow, balance slipping as you began to hang over the edge.

“I can see your greatness, y/n. The power inside of you aching to be set free. I can give that to you. I can give you the true place by my side once this is all said and done.”

Had your eyes not already been wide, they would have been now, “You would make me a tyrant.”

Rhysand only smirked, flawless face no longer hiding the evil that lurked beneath his skin like a disease, “No. I would make you a queen. One worshiped from land to sea. One thought to be as powerful as the Mother herself. You just have to say yes before my grip slips.”

He let his grip go a second, catching you at your mid-forearm. A perfect brow arched as you looked down, panicking as you realized how high you truly were about to fall from.

“Not high enough to die,” he confirmed casually. “High enough to maim and leave you here bleeding out.” His grip loosened again, catching your lower forearm, “Either way, I get rid of a problem. Your choice.”

Your heart was threatening to pound out of your chest as your eyes met his calm ones. “I planned all of this as well, by the way. I really thought you would have fallen for Azriel's charm, but alas, you didn't.” He seemed almost bored as he held your life within one of his hands. “Azriel warned me he wasn't your type and that I could only fake what you and I both know if actually between us for so long.”

His grip slipped, laughing as you screamed and he caught your wrist, “I had hoped you would be a smart little mouse and come to me instead of running when I made sure you learned everything, but those damn morals of yours. How pathetic for the Cauldron to have given me of all males such a righteous mate.”

That smirk turned feral as he realized you didn't know. His eyes began to almost glow with excitement. “Oh little mouse, you really are just a stupid thing, aren't you?”

His grip slipped once again, catching you by lacing your fingers in his, admiring how snug and perfect they felt together.

“Last chance, y/n. Agree to my terms or die.”

He was so cold to you. So uncaring. He hadn't expected your last move, you unlacing your own fingers from his. You making the choice without his input. You falling.

And the last thing you remembered was the cold air ripping your breath from your lungs before impact ever came.

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