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shrimpybbq · 8 months ago

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rafe experiences the comfort of a mother

synopsis: rafe appears on his girlfriend’s doorstop, badly burnt and in need of care and affection

Rafe stood in front of the guest room, body stiff and hand frozen against the wooden door. He wanted to knock, he really did, and yet he was hesitant. Only the day before had the couple fought, screaming and shouting until both were out of breath. Rafe had watched his sweet girl leave with teary eyes and he’d felt bad, his heart twisting as she had slammed the door in his face. It was the same door he finally knocked on after realising he’d been motionless for too long. The rap of his knuckles echoed and for a moment, he wondered if she wouldn’t answer the door at all, until a creak sounded. Rafe raised his gaze to see his girlfriend standing in front of him, her fists rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

“R-rafe? What are yo-”, she began to ask, voice heavy with tiredness, the hour late. It wasn’t until she looked at him properly that she paused, taking in his entire state. Rafe was standing there, clutching his arm to his chest protectively. It wasn’t the childlike pose that caught her eye though, no - it was the way Rafe’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and his bottom lip wobbling ever so subtly.

“Are you ok?” She asked gently, as if she were talking to their son. Rafe could only shake his head side to side, slowly pulling his arm away. At the sight of the red and blistering flesh, she gasped loudly, “Oh my god! What happened?”.

“I-uh, I got into some trouble,” Rafe responded timidly, full of shame and in pain.

“Come here,” his girlfriend said, gently ushering him into the guest room, “sit down. Have you cleaned this?” She asked. Again he shook his head, leading her to hum lowly. “Ok, I’ll need to clean it. Gimme a sec.”

Rafe sat on the bed patiently as he took in the room. He’d never been in there since she began sleeping in there, now taking in all the little trinkets she had lying around. He had been trying to get her to move back into his room but she still refused, and the pair used the nursery as a mutual zone.

His musings were cut off by a gentle voice questioning him.

“What happened Rafe?”

“It’s nothing, just an accident, you know?” Rafe grumbled out as she began to wet antiseptic pads in front of him. She looked up at him, gaze incredulous.

“This is bad, Rafe. You don’t just get something like this accidentally! You said you got into trouble before - what did you mean by that?” She questioned. Rafe sighed, having underestimated just how much she would question him, but he should’ve expected that, he thought to himself. When he didn’t answer, she began to clean his arm.

The sharp stinging sensation that travelled through him as the antiseptic touched his burn made Rafe jump, his voice exclaiming in shock. It was that sudden pain that caused the unshed tears in his eyes to spill over, and it was like once he started he couldn’t stop. All his pain and worries spilled out of him, the tears streaming down his face.

“Oh baby, it’s ok, come here,” he heard her say, cleaning forgotten as she pulled his head into her chest. Whenever she had comforted Rafe in the past, this had been his favourite position, curled up against her chest and having his hair stroked. So she did just that, soothing his heaving sobs with each pass through his hair. “It’s ok Rafe, you’re ok here baby. I’ve got you, ok? Breathe, Rafe.”

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, his sobs wetting the fabric of the tank top she wore. He’d almost completely exhausted himself by the time his sobs stopped, only able to breathe deeply now. It was then his muffled voice could be heard, “it was Barry.”

He felt her stiffen before she tentatively probed further. “Barry, your dealer?”

At the feeling of him nodding, she pulled him away from her chest. Her voice was stern, as if she was talking to a small child,

“Rafe, why is your dealer burning you? What did you do?”

He looked up at her, eyes wide and rimmed with red. He looked just a like their son, she thought, his features so innocent and needy.

“I-I couldn’t pay him back in time… I tried, I really did, but I had this thing and I couldn’t get it all there in time, and I said- I said to him I would get it bu-but he didn’t care,” Rafe began to ramble, his voice pleading with her to understand him. He had been trying to do better, for her - for his family. He watched her sigh, before she returned to clean his wound in silence. Rafe wanted to speak, to explain himself more but he didn’t know what to say, and the idea of her disappointed gaze upon him once more sealed his lips. The feeling of her fingers smoothing a burn cream over his wound tenderly had him curling back into her chest.

She began to card her fingers back through his blonde locks, feeling Rafe relax against her. When he was upset he would be one of two ways: angry and reactive, or clingy and touch-starved. Today, it was clear he was the latter. She couldn’t bare to leave him alone like this, and so she gently whispered,

“Come here baby, let’s get you into bed, ok?”

Rafe pulled away, his eyes wide as he looked up upon her face.

“Here?”

She nodded and began to pull the covers away, creating a space for him to shuffle in. Rafe allowed himself to be guided under the quilt and he couldn’t help but sigh at the feeling of her fingers tenderly brushing his messed-up strands away from his forehead. As he made space for her beside him, Rafe watched his girlfriend pull away from the bed.

“Nononono-” he began to mutter, only to be cut off. His hand was outstretched pathetically to try and keep her by his side, scared to be alone.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. I’m just going to the nursery. I thought you’d want him to stay with us tonight,” she soothed, watching surprised as Rafe shook his head in response.

“No, let him sleep. Just c’mere,” he mumbled, dragging her into his side and under the blankets. Within seconds Rafe had found his position for the night, curled up into her side, his head resting on her chest once more. He was so sullen and quiet as he listened to her heartbeat, hands clutching at her waist.

“Goodnight Rafe,” she uttered sleepily, the events of the night catching up to her.

“I love you,” he said quietly, his voice muffled against her chest. He didn’t say it often, preferring to show his love for her through actions, but she always knew it. With a soft kiss against the crown of his head, she echoed those words back to him, before slipping into unconsciousness,

“I love you too, baby.”

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loveanddeepsecrets · 3 months ago

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Domestic + Intimate Headcanons Pt. II

An impromptu two parter of me just spitballing (Pt. I for reference). This started out as a cutesy mini headcanon post for Raf’s bday, but quickly grew into hyper specific romantic scenarios and wishful thinking. It’s still probably clear who my mains are 😭 but I did my best to showcase the humility in all LIs

⤠ Disclaimer: I’m quite happy with the intimate headcanons from my initial post and truthfully couldn’t expand too too much without basically repeating myself from last time. So with the exception of Caleb, there’s a bit less spicy bullets this go-round :/

⤠ Tags: 18+, MDNI, *slight spoilers depending on affinity level or personal progress in main story +myths, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but written with an afab + fem!reader in mind

⤠ Word count: 2.1k (mostly proofread)

Xavier

SFW

✧ Eats the raisins you pick out of the trail mix

✧ Always draws stars next to your name when writing you letters/cards

✧ Bookstore dates. At every visit, you pick one of your favourite books to read for each other

✧ After begging him tirelessly to teach you a song, *any song* on the piano, he mischievously chose ‘Heart & Soul’

✧ Saves every voicemail/voice note. He often replays them to stay sane on dangerous solo missions

✧ On top of that, he made a bunny plushie version of you at one of those 'Build-A-Bear' type shops and used one of your voice notes . He sleeps with it on nights he can't sleep with you

✧ Sprays more cologne on his hoodies knowing you love the scent. He also thinks the extra spritz of fragrance will ward off other men since he knows you borrow his clothes. It’s his silent way of marking what’s his

✧ Loves making you blush. He didn't get enough time to court you in the past timeline on Philos, so he seizes every opportunity to (quite effortlessly) rizz you up to see your flushed expression

NSFW

✧ [canonically makes bolder moves to see how you’d react —secret times lvl 165]

✧ Game head. He gets a bit of an adrenaline rush if you do it while he’s online

✧ Doesn’t give not one shit about how loud you guys are. He probably prefers sex on the couch on the off chance Charlie might be passing through the hallway

✧ Though I still think he’s pretty quiet, he becomes a bit of a whiny mess when you’re edging him

✧ A gripper. Grabs on your ass during cowgirl, your chest during missionary, your hips/thighs during doggy, etc

✧ Sprained his neck from holding your hips down and guiding you when you sat on his face. It left him smirking throughout his recovery. Every painful twitch was a pleasant reminder of a job well done

✧ Has the fastest pace ot5. He moves at lightning speed when batting wanderers, so he probably moves at a back breaking break neck speed while inside of you

✧ After rewatching the 'No Restraint' card on YouTube… *sweats* he’s got magic fingers. I’ll put it like this and move on: firm, tiny circles 🫠

Caleb

SFW

✧ 10+ hours long face time calls

✧ Would actually be pretty decent at the claw machine if he wasn't such a massive cheater

✧ Utility man. He's your personal chauffer, home chef, alarm clock, umbrella, trainer, handyman, and so on. He strives to be the perfect emergency contact

✧ Has definitely seen those videos of couples trying to recreate yoga poses and had you try with him (would probably cheat using his evol)

✧ Bounces his leg if you scratch that one spot on his head when you play with his hair

✧ You always end up sitting on his lap when cuddling watching tv or reading peacefully together

✧ Holds pinkies more often than holding hands

✧ Super athletic and adventurous dates i.e. zip lining, skydiving, paragliding, kayaking, hiking, etc. He’s patient, encouraging, and talks you through the scariest parts of the activity and rewards you with several kisses in between telling you how brave you were

NSFW

✧ Hands down has the roughest sex regularly ot5

✧ Mile high club

✧ Orgasm denial + overstimulation

✧ LOUD, TALKATIVE, and MESSY

✧ Sloppy eater

✧ He expects a sloppy eater in return. Is probably the type to grab your head and start guiding you when he’s close

✧ Ik I said Xavier was bossy, but this man? His gravity evol? His colonel position? CONTROL FREAK

✧ Likely has the biggest “Sir” kink

✧ While I do think he aligns slightly more with booktok Sylus, I can’t see where degradation would fit with their dynamic. You’re the very thing he wants to shield and protect. Why would he degrade what he cherishes?

✧ On the softer side, he’s the type to melt into your touch. There’s true devotion in his eyes (and heart) when you’re making love

✧ On the days where he’s not rough, the sex is more sensual and almost tantric

✧ Will always find a way to be physically closer to you during the act. Whether it’s putting his forehead on yours, burying his face in your neck, hugging your waist, or simply holding hands

✧ You both probably cried (happy tears) after your first time. Being intimate felt like a confirmation from the universe that you knew each other more than words could express. There was no trial and error, you just knew

Sylus

SFW

✧ Hot air balloon rides

✧ Monogram matching robes

✧ Secret fan of game shows. He thinks they’re hilarious— or in his words “highly amusing”

✧ Bought you a birdhouse + birdfeeder for your apartment after he noticed you birdwatching on the last date

✧ Purposely chooses horror films on movie nights on the chance you’ll hold onto him and hide your face in his chest. He’ll laugh and make some remark about being hurt that you’d use him as a shield, but will hold you tighter and soothe you later in the night when you’re too scared to sleep

✧ Random slow dances. In the kitchen on the nights you make dinner together; in his study while music emits from his record player; in the bathroom, sleepily swaying side to side while lazily brushing your teeth

✧ Whenever you're holding hands, he often aimlessly draws random shapes on your ring finger

✧ I think all the LADS men have a default position they fall into when getting close or snuggling up. For Sylus, it’s resting his chin on your shoulder. It’s the perfect place to capture your scent plus, he can hear and feel your heartbeat. Of course he’ll playful bite or nuzzle into your neck, but he rests his head there because it’s most familiar and comforting to him and his old dragon form

NSFW

✧ Road head

✧ Mile high club

✧ Eye contact

✧ Has a secluded sex dungeon even Luke & Kieran don’t know about

✧ Due to the nature of his job, I don’t think he’d engage in explicit sexting. Too many people on his case and has probably dealt with his fair share of hackers. If one of your messages/photos/videos leaked anywhere, it would be the end of the N109 zone and the world as we know it

✧ That being said, if he wants to make home movies, it’s done with a vintage film camera to ensure the utmost privacy

✧ More of a grunter and groaner than a moaner. The few times he does moan, is when he’s buried between your legs

✧ I actually think he’d be into role play. He likes how you always keep him quick on his feet in your relationship, and will often humour and indulging in the change of pace. He’d like this even more in the bedroom

✧ Chuckles to himself and humours you whenever you suggest 69ing bc he knows you’ll inevitably just lay there with his dick idle in your hands, while you whimper on top of him

✧ Stamina coach. His methods for overstimulation are twofold. While he loves the state of you withering and coming completely undone, he also does this to help you expand your limitations and enjoy each other for as long as he can go. I already said he’s a pleasure dom, but he’s a pleasure dom with a purpose

Zayne

SFW

✧ Botanical garden tours

✧ Couples ice skating during the holiday season

✧ Uses his surgical skills to patch up injured plushies [x]

✧ He may or may not have added an extra rest day or two in your doctor’s note to Jenna so he can spend more time with you. He’ll deny it and insist you need the additional rest, and who better to take care of you other than your doctor?

✧ There’s something about the way he holds your hand that’s sickeningly sweet. Gentle, slightly cool to the touch that warms up quickly, with loving caresses

✧ Surprised you to a dessert degustation for your anniversary. Each dish is a highlight of the standout desserts you tried over the year

✧ Occasional late night strolls along the river. He passively recalls scenes from the western dramas you watch and (successfully) tries skipping rocks

✧ Enjoys exploring artistic outlets with you. Often suggests different workshops to try i.e. stained glass studios, culinary classes, candle making, terrarium building, etc

✧ A bit needy nowadays. To experience a love he never knew he could have, makes him hold your hand a little more tightly, hug you a few seconds longer and kiss you twice as many times as he did before

NSFW

✧ Much like Sylus, he’s also big on eye contact (when he’s in control)

✧ Literally the cutest thing ever when you go down on him. He’ll keep his composure, and lustfully tell you what he wants, but gets so flustered and stuttering as the pleasure builds and he gets close

✧ Truthfully, I don’t like to compare Zayne and Caleb all that much, but the love making between you two is also very tantric

✧ If you listen to the way he kisses you, it’s pretty similar to how he eats you. When completely drunk off your juices, it’s like he’s breathing you in. There’s a desperation to his licks and kisses, feening for the taste of your nectar

✧ He’s also the type to spell out his name with his tongue over and over again. Think of it as a spell. He needs to hear you call to him

✧ Incredibly patient. Foreplay isn’t some tit for tat curtesy thing, it’s important to him. He’s less of a tease and more methodical. "Relax into my arms. No, I'm not bullying you. I need you to come for me again. You should always warm up before stretching, and I don't want to hurt you so please, come for me love. Can you do that for me?"

✧ A stickler for clear communication. You must speak in full complete sentences. It’s not enough to say just say “Please.” What exactly are you pleading him to do?

✧ Slight exhibitionist. He’ll never allow you to get caught, but likes the challenge of finding the quickest ways to cover your mouth— using his hand, tie or lips to stifle your moans

Rafayel

SFW

✧ Hates going in hot springs, saunas, or jacuzzies. He’ll say he feels like a boiling crab

✧ Asked to keep your first completed sketchbook that are filled with many one on one art lessons with him

✧ Can’t sleep if some semblance of you isn’t with him. Will literally drag or carry you to the couch so he can take a nap. You don’t have to nap with him, just lay next to him and stroke his hair

✧ Apart from Moments, you’re the only one he’s following on all socials

✧ Always responds with a stream of texts in all caps and several emojis when you send him a selfie

✧ His biggest artistic aspiration is to find just the right pigments/colours that encapsulates you. Next is finding a colour palette that encapsulates both of you

✧ Used to think you were mocking him when you took him on aquarium dates

✧ Your pearl engagement ring was made from the tears he cried while drafting his proposal speech [x]

NSFW

✧ Next to Sylus, he’s a comfort king. Making sure you have enough pillows underneath you during missionary; repositioning you when he notices your head leaning off the edge of the bed; several consent check ins; "my hands aren't too cold, right?"; taking over when your legs start to tire out from riding him, etc

✧ Unpopular opinion, I think he’s the most into period sex out of the five. You really think a MERMAN is scared of the red sea???

✧ Speaking of which, he’s extra sensitive to your scent and the way you feel when you’re on your cycle. Though he won’t necessarily initiate anything

✧ Has you take the week off for Ebb Day. You’ll need the extra down time and he’s more than happy to spend the rest the week caring for you till you're back in good health

✧ On particularly intense— passionate rounds, he starts swearing/speaking in Lumerian

✧ Pretty gentle with you when you go down on him. He’s usually holding your hair back, softly running his fingers through your strands or caressing the back of your neck

✧ The biggest tease when he’s eating you out and MEAN about it too. Giggling when you mewl. That annoying "mmm?” when you start to get louder. "Speak up, cutie."

✧ Best stroke game. Ik I said this last time, but I’m dying on this hill. Dizzying backshots, frontshots, sideshots— literally whatever position you’re in, his hips are steady, fluid, and unrelenting

ꨄ︎ A/N: Thanks for reading 🤍 these lists were a bit harder to make this time ngl. Quite a few bullets from pt. I are now canon— which I’m happy about ofc, but it made it harder to bounce around new ideas since there’s fewer “what ifs”. It’s probably best to end this series here tbh. But I’m definitely open to different content suggestions to post next!

[x] - denotes credit for headcanon inspo.

⤠ dividers by saradika-graphics & anitalenia

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multific · 4 months ago

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A Father’s Devotion

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: Your pregnancy brought along new worries. But deep down, under the worry and uncertainty, your husband was thrilled to have a child with you.

When you told Geta that you were expecting, his reaction was one you’d never forget.

He stood frozen for a moment, his hands hovering in hesitation before finally resting gently on your shoulders.

“A child,” he repeated softly as if the words carried the weight of the world. Then, a rare smile broke across his face, and he pulled you into a warm hug. “Our child,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Happiness flows through both of you.

From that day on, Geta’s attentiveness bordered on obsessive.

He made sure your every need was met, from fresh fruits delivered daily to arranging the softest pillows for your comfort.

He refused to let you walk alone, always by your side and always watching over you.

“Should you even be climbing these steps?” he’d ask, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the staircase as if it posed some hidden danger. As if the stairs would somehow move on their own just to hurt you.

“I’ve been climbing these exact steps every day, Geta,” you’d reply with a small laugh.

“Yes, but now you carry our future,” he’d insist, his tone a mix of humour and genuine concern.

As your belly grew, so did his worries and his obsession deepened.

He spent long evenings learning about childbirth and asked for advice from trusted healers.

Sitting by your side, he often spoke about his own childhood, his voice tinged with both nostalgia and hope. Hope to be a better father.

But there was also fear. Fear of failure during which you had to reassure your husband.

When the day of the birth arrived, Geta was almost unrecognizable in his nervousness.

Normally composed and commanding, he paced the halls outside your chamber, his face etched with worry.

The sound of your cries from within made him stop in his tracks, his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to barge in and hold your hand.

His brother was there with him however Geta didn't hear a word Caracalla said.

Caracalla tried his best to calm his brother. But his words fell on deaf ears.

Despite tradition dictating that Geta remain outside, he lingered close to the door, hoping to catch any words from the midwife, he stood silently.

His heart ached at every cry you let out.

How could he stand outside when you were in pain? How can tradition dictate that he mustn't enter? How cruel it truly was to hear the woman you love suffer while he sat outside.

Finally, the door opened, and he nearly slipped in his rush to hear the news.

"How's my wife?" he asked.

“A healthy son,” the midwife announced, smiling warmly.

Since he didn't get the answer he wanted, he rushed inside.

His heart nearly fell out of his chest with worry as he entered. His gaze fell on you. You looked so tired yet you were glowing with happiness. He almost didn't even notice the bundle of joy in your arms.

“Come meet your son,” you said softly, your voice filled with love despite your exhaustion.

Geta moved closer, almost cautiously, as though afraid the moment wasn’t real. He checked on you first.

When the baby was placed into his arms, he finally looked at his son.

He sat down by your legs, admiring both of you.

“He’s perfect,” Geta murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “Just like you, My Empress.”

"Congratulations, Brother!" Caracalla said as he entered the room.

In the days that followed, Geta was completely dedicated.

He insisted on being part of everything when it came to your son. He was determined to not let anyone else close to your son.

Whether it was holding the baby boy in the quiet hours of the night, soothing his cries, or attempting to sing him lullabies, Geta wanted to be a part of it.

It helped you heal fast but it also melted your heart to know your husband was so devoted. You feared he wouldn't want to even hold your baby, and yet there he was, softly humming a tune as he lulled your son to sleep.

One evening, as you watched him cradle your son by the fire, you couldn’t help but smile.

“You’ve changed,” you teased gently.

He looked up at you, his features turned to confusion.

“Changed?”

“Yes,” you said, moving closer. “The Emperor of Rome, completely undone by someone so small he can’t even hold his head up.”

Geta chuckled, the sound warm and genuine.

“He’s my son,” he replied simply, before reaching out to pull you into his arms as well. “And you... My Darling Wife, you’ve given me everything I didn’t realize I was missing.”

As the baby stirred in his arms, Geta pressed a kiss to your forehead.

At that moment, the weight of the Empire faded into the background, leaving only the love shared between the three of you.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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innerfare · 6 months ago

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Nudes - Part 1

Summary: Their favorite nude photo of you.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // nudes (obv), oral sex, light food play with Luffy, unprotected sex with Daddy Zoro, and light cum play with Ace

———

Luffy:

Your naked body with whipped cream is Luffy’s wet dream boat, and the best gift he ever received was a pair of photographs featuring just that. In one of them, you posed with the sweet white substance smeared across your naked chest, all messy and in desperate need of being licked up. And the second, you had a neat trail of it in the shape of a heart just above your naked cunt, ripe for the taking. Needless to say, you had to recreate this little photoshoot with Luffy as soon as he laid eyes on the photographs.

Zoro:

He’s an ass man who’s obsessed with creampies, and his absolute favorite snapshot of you is from behind, your pussy flushed and swollen from him pounding into it, his cum dripping out of your little hole, and that pink, heart-shaped plug in your ass. The sight of it makes him salivate, and he usually ends up clutching his cock because the throbbing is actually painful. He’s gotten into many a bar fight after having one too many and pulling it out to stare longingly, only for some creep to gawk over his shoulder at your perfect ass and pussy.

Sanji:

You feigned illness one day and waited for the crew to leave you alone aboard the ship before sneaking into the kitchen in your bathrobe and swapping it for Sanji’s apron, snapping a few pictures of yourself wearing it with nothing underneath. One, in particular, turned out quite well, with your tits popping out the top and your hand pulling the bottom half to the side to reveal your naked little slit. That’s the one Sanji keeps in the back of his wallet.

Ace:

It’s horrible, really. It’s disgusting. But when he’s away from you, there’s nothing that brings him more pleasure than that photograph he took of you naked on a beach somewhere, his hat on your head and sand in your hair, his cum on your pretty face while you smile up at him and laugh, his hand tilting your chin up. It’s not just how sexy it is, though. You just look so happy, so pretty, and so very his. The photograph serves as a reminder of how much you smile, how happy you get, when he fucks you, and it always leaves him grinning like a fool.

Sabo:

He was sitting sprawled on the small sofa in his bedroom, and you were kneeling between his knees, his pretty cock in your hands, your tongue on the head. He had one of his hands tangled in your hair, the other holding the camera. He’d been away for two whole months, and the two of you hadn’t left his room for three full days and nights. It was day two when he took that picture, fresh out of the shower. He’d never seen so many hickies on your skin, had not known just how long the two of you could go until then, and he was determined not to forget.

Law:

Law’s a simple man- kinky, but simple. When he found a photograph tucked into his hoodie one day, he didn’t realize what it was at first. There wasn’t a face, just a body, but after a second, he recognized that body. And he recognized the loose t-shirt covering it, sliding off one shoulder and breast, revealing a single pert nipple, a hickey beside it. And the way the hem rode up, he could see you weren’t wearing any panties, though he couldn’t see between your legs with his pillow stuffed between them. The love note scribbled on the back begging him to come home safe only cemented it as one of his most prized possessions.

Kid:

He has a couple on the wall in his workshop where anyone could see, though nobody but you, he, and Killer really go in there. By far his favorite one, though, is the first one he ever took, before he even pierced your nipples, before you had even decided to stay on his crew. You were naked on the deck of the Victoria Punk, not posing in a particularly scandalous way, just staring up at the moon while Kid documented your nudity for his own selfish desires. He’d pinned you to the deck and fucked you for the first time after that, and he had a little keepsake from it.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece headcanons #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece smut #ace x reader #law x reader #sabo x reader #zoro x reader #portgas d ace x reader #trafalgar law x reader #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #eustass kid x reader #captain kid x reader

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starlightsalvatore · 11 months ago

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hunger / damon salvatore x reader

i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni

You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.

You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon.

“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill.

“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.

“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.

“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.

“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.

“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.

But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.

He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.

“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat.

“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.

“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild.

“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.

You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.

“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry.

Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther…

Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of.

And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago.

You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders.

His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.

His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction.

You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.

“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care�� not when he felt as good as he did between your legs.

Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled.

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.

He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in.

When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.

Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin.

You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.

His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest.

“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.

“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.

“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.

“A trip?”

You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.”

“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.”

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x you #damon salvatore fan fiction #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore smut #damon salvatore fluff #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fan fiction #tvdu

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fierysakura · 2 months ago

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Aite let’s do this. Here’s my thoughts on the Jedi’s Attachment rule and why it exists:

Attachment and love/affection are two very different things. You can be loving and affectionate without being attached to someone.

The same way, letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It’s accepting the way things are and that death and loss are a natural part of life. You can’t fight what’s natural. It also doesn’t mean to sit back and just accept things as they are, or why would Jedi fight to protect? To change things and save people?

Love is knowing to put the many over the few. If someone you love is in danger, but there’s also a boatload of civilians, it’s going for the civilians, even if you hate them, despite wanting to save the other. ie. Letting go of your feelings. Not being attached.

So why this rule is such a big deal.

For a Jedi, being *attached* poses a much bigger problem than for the average person (looking at you Anakin Skywalker.) If a normal person can go to extremes either as a result of losing someone or wanting to protect them, think of what a Jedi, who feels things more deeply because of the Force, could do if they can’t let go.

The important thing is Jedi don’t say ‘don’t love.’ They don’t say ‘feel nothing.’ In fact you often hear Obi-wan and others say to trust feelings, instincts and refer to each other affectionately.

Anakin: You’re like a father to me.

Obi-Wan: Then why don’t you *listen.*

(Episode II. Not a reprimand for calling him father-like but asking if that’s how he feels, why doesn’t Anakin listen like a son should.)

What they *do* say is don’t get carried away in positive or negative feelings, as both can lead to impulsive actions with long term consequences. It’s a concept that follows the lines of mindfulness and just being *aware* that they have so much power, they can’t afford to be reckless. Because the damage *will* be long lasting.

They say don’t love someone so much that you’ll do anything for them. They say don’t be *possessive.* Because that’s a *very* dangerous place to go for a normal person, let alone a super powerful being who could leave *chaos* behind. Attachment is refusing to let go. Stopping someone from doing what they love because you’re scared. Love is trusting and accepting things can’t/will change even if you don’t like it, and accepting that when there’s nothing you can do without breaking your moral code.

Jedi grieve. They feel loss. They get angry. They *love.* They just don’t let those feelings overwhelm them to the point of irrationality, accepting, understanding, and releasing them because they’ll do no good in the long run. If emotion overwhelms the brain, the logical part shuts down, and we’ve all seen what force fuelled temper/grief can do.

‘Kanan and Ezra don’t follow the rule.’

On the contrary.

You see Kanan learn to let go of his grief and *attachment* which has been holding him back all this time. In doing so he becomes a Knight and Master. He loves Hera, yes, but he loves unconditionally. Not possessively. He’s fine with Hera going on dangerous missions and accepts that there will be times she’s hurt. That there’s always a possibility she might not come back and he’s gonna have to live with that. He doesn’t try to stop her. He doesn’t fall into a rage if she gets hurt. He accepts it, pain, rage, grief and all, but lets it go so he doesn’t become fearful to the point he won’t let *her* go. He accepts Hera loves the Rebellion and compromises even if he doesn’t like it. Love. Nothing wrong with that in the Jedi Order.

In contrast you have Anakin. When Padmé is in danger he will drop *everything* to go to her, including putting his men and padawan in unnecessary danger to do so. You see his jealousy when Clovis is around. His lack of faith in Padmé despite her assurances. How he won’t back down even if it scares or disturbs her. You see how he *refuses* to take any chances at all with her health to the point of breaking his moral code. This isn’t love anymore. This is attachment, possession. This is what the Jedi forbid.

You see Ezra struggle with letting Sabine go on a dangerous mission and Kanan teaching him that he has to accept the danger, that she might not come back. and how to do it. Telling him to respect her abilities, what she wants to do, and not loving her to the point of stifling her. This is what letting go is. This is what the Jedi teach.

Ezra has to learn to let go of his own grief and accept Kanan’s death. This is what love without attachment means. This is what the rule is. Feeling it. Accepting it. Then letting the emotions go so they don’t control your actions more than your mind does.

Also, anyone can leave the Jedi Order. If they don’t agree, there’s nothing forcing them to stay. Being a Jedi is a religion, a way of life. You can discuss and debate the details, but you don’t get to pick and choose what parts to follow.

You can be a force wielder without being a Jedi. The privileges the Jedi received were because of their belief and the respect that earned.

But more importantly, you can happily leave the order, and the Jedi will still welcome you to come hang out. To chill with your friends and walk about the Temple, train with others and catch up. It’s a community. You don’t suddenly lose all of that because you decided following the Jedi way wasn’t for you.

#aite let’s see who this reaches?#I don’t want to call it pro Jedi because it’s more like.#this is how George Lucas created the Jedi #and I’m sorry I absolutely *despise* the way new shows have taken this beautiful Order #and rewritten entire aspects of it just so they can make Anakin look good #this isn’t even a theory. look at what Lucas says about the Jedi and Anakin vs what Filoni keeps saying about Anakin being the best Jedi #and how clearly this plays with Ahsoka #and how he shows Dooku and the Jedi in Tales of the Jedi #vs what was previous canon #aaaanyway. Tags!#Jedi #jedi culture #jedi order #anakin Skywalker #padme amidala #obi wan kenobi #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger #Star Wars #star wars meta #call me biased but loving without being attached is such a core part of my own faith #it’s something I’ve grown up around and just makes sense to me #so here’s my expansion on why the Jedi might have it ^^

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mournthebird · 7 months ago

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Condition.

summary: Soldat refuses to sit down, you notice he's in pain.

a/n: I saw someone caught one of the things I wrote earlier in hcs and I knew at some point I was going to delve deeper into it. So that's the push I needed. This one is potentially triggering thus no tags have been added to this post. Unedited; I have so may wips rn, I will check for mistakes later. ;; wc: 4.4k

You weren't too sure what the problem was.

Soldat didn't like to sit down. You thought maybe it was because he felt like he had to be on guard at all times, fresh out of HYDRA and paranoid the agents would somehow find his whereabouts, then forcibly break down your door and tear him away from your apartment that he deemed safe enough.

You noticed a pattern in Soldat's actions whenever he did reluctantly lower himself into a seated position. With each attempt, you saw a subtle but unmistakable wince or a barely audible hiss escaping through his clenched teeth, betraying his discomfort. These seated interludes were invariably brief, lasting a few seconds before he would abruptly rise to his feet once more.

The simple act of lowering himself onto a chair seemed to require an immense effort, though he tried desperately to conceal his discomfort behind a façade of indifference. The careful dance of pain that displayed anytime he attempted to lower himself down on the ground, or apply any pressure at all to his backside, shot up his spine and made him think twice.

On occasion, you noticed him favoring one side of his body as he sat, shifting his weight in what appeared to be an attempt to alleviate some hidden source of pain. But, more often than not, Soldat opted to forgo sitting entirely, preferring to maintain a standing posture that allowed for a quick reaction to any perceived threat.

It had only been a few days.

He maintained his resolute silence, stubbornly refusing to utter a single word. The only exception had been a barely audible thank you in Russian after you had carefully and gently bathed him. His demeanor remained guarded and defensive, occasionally punctuated by sharp, guttural exclamations of 'Нет' whenever you approached too closely. His words were replaced by growling and baring his teeth as if that were somehow off putting enough. He reacted as though you posed an imminent threat, despite your efforts to appear non-threatening and helpful.

You couldn’t really blame him, at the end of the day. His body bore the signs of telltale abuse and mistreatment for god knows how long.

As the days slowly passed, you grew increasingly concerned about his deteriorating condition. The pain etched across his features seemed to intensify with each passing hour, and you really wanted to confront him about his condition. He stayed in the spare room, his weary frame silhouetted against the window and sheer curtains guarding the glass. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion but remained vigilant, constantly scanning the darkened streets below.

Sleep had become a luxury he could ill afford, severe conditioning and sleep deprivation made it almost impossible for him to fall asleep naturally unless he completely collapsed from exhaustion. His paranoia and discomfort didn’t help his need to rest. The toll of his sleepless nights was clearly visible in the dark circles under his eyes and the slight tremor in his hand as he maintained his ceaseless vigil.

"Soldat..." You spoke gently, not wanting to startle him. Despite your cautious approach, your tone didn't have the desired effect. He still flinched visibly when you called his name, his body tensing as if bracing for impact. He turned to face you, his movements stiff and guarded, his eyes wary as the soldier watched you.

"It's okay, I just came to see you," you reassured him, your voice soft and soothing. You paused for a brief moment, allowing your words to sink in, before continuing with soft concern, "Are you doing okay? Are you in any pain?" As you spoke, you took a tentative step into the room, slow and deliberate to avoid frightening him further.

Soldat's reaction was immediate and instinctive to your step. He took one step back in response to your advance, his body language screaming discomfort and distrust. However, his retreat was cut short as his shoulder made contact with the cold, unyielding surface of the wall behind him. The realization that he had nowhere left to go flashed across his face, a fleeting expression of panic quickly masked by a forced blank stare. He stood there, cornered and tense, like a wounded animal trapped with no escape route.

You knew better than to approach too quickly. Experience had taught you that if he felt cornered or threatened in any way, he'd lash out instinctively. Although he hadn't physically harmed you before, you were aware of his potential to do so. He was a goddamn super soldier, and you were just a civilian. He could snap your neck with one arm. The tension in the air grew and you could sense his unease increasing with each passing moment.

"It's okay, I promise..." You slowly raised your hands, palms outward, trying to placate him. You were very cautious with your actions, designed to show him that you harbored no ill intent. You maybe hoped he’d recognize you were harmless, but understood why he still felt wariness in himself. You remained rooted to the spot where you stood, consciously avoiding any sudden movements that might startle him or exacerbate the fear you had inadvertently stirred. "I just want to see how you're handling yourself... you seem to be in pain, and I want to help. That's all I'm here for, nothing more."

You paused, carefully observing his body language. His already stiff posture became increasingly rigid as he pressed his back firmly against the wall. It was as if he was trying to conceal something from your view or instinctively protect an injury. His wince was unmistakable even in the dark room, as clear as a beacon in the night. Your ears picked up the sharp, hissing intake of breath when he inadvertently applied too much pressure to his backside. The sound was a clear indicator of his discomfort, and it only reinforced your concern.

"Please...Soldat, let me have a look at you?" You whispered softly, your voice barely audible in the tense atmosphere. Your heart ached with the desire to ease his suffering, to offer a gentle touch that might soothe his pain or provide the comfort he had been robbed from. You yearned for his trust, to create a haven where he could lower his defenses and find solace in your presence instead of constantly feeling so anxious and alone.

The air between you grew thick with anticipation, punctuated only by the shallow, measured breaths you both took. In the depths of his eyes, you could see the internal struggle unfolding—a battle between ingrained wariness and the desperate need and hope for comfort. Time seemed to stretch as he weighed his options, his body still rigid with uncertainty. Finally, after several long minutes, a subtle shift occurred in his demeanor.

Slowly, he began to peel himself away from the wall that had been his refuge. His body language was tinged with nervousness, his gaze never left you as he inched forward, scrutinizing your every breath, every twitch, as if anticipating a sudden betrayal. The distance between you diminished gradually until he came to a halt by the edge of the bed, his posture still coiled with tension, ready to retreat at the slightest provocation.

"There we are...good job," you offered gentle words of encouragement, mirroring the approach you had taken during his bathing session. The positive reinforcement had proven effective then, so you decided to employ the same strategy in this situation. "I can see you're in pain. Could you point to where it hurts?" You inquired softly, fully aware that he might not respond verbally given his usual restraint from speaking.

For a brief period, he remained completely still, his body language giving no indication of his thoughts. Then he shifted his posture, turning in such a way that his back was now fully exposed to your view. However, without the aid of words, the gesture alone didn't provide much clarity. The area of discomfort could be anywhere along his spine or surrounding muscles. "Is it your back that's causing you pain?" You asked, hoping for a more specific response.

He shook his head slightly, a subtle movement that nonetheless clearly conveyed a negative answer.

"Okay…is it your legs that are hurting?" You ventured, this query elicited a slight shrug from him, a gesture that hinted at possible agreement but still left room for uncertainty. You found yourself at a loss, unsure of how to proceed or phrase your next question in a way that would yield more precise information. After a moment's hesitation, you decided to be more direct in your approach, hoping it wasn't what you thought, but part of you knew deep down that it probably was. "You don't sit down very often. Is there some discomfort in your bottom?"

He almost made a scoff, his brow furrowing slightly at the unfamiliar sound. The concept of shyness was foreign to him, it contrasted to the harsh commands he was accustomed to hearing, vulgarity being barked at him about his body and how he looked. Soldat's eyes, initially narrowing with a hint of suspicion, quickly softened as he processed your tone. His gaze met yours, and he offered a gentle yet subtle nod. You noticed a flicker of discomfort cross his features, leaving you puzzled about the source of his pain. Hesitantly, you spoke again, "Can I see?"

He bristled instantly, a cocktail of emotions surging through him. Vulnerability and aggression warred within, his muscles tensing as if preparing for a fight. He had to remind himself that this was you standing before him, not them - not the towering figures from his past. You weren't one of the men who had loomed over him, using their size to intimidate and control. You weren't here to pin him down or force his compliance. Instead, you were asking for permission. The concept was so foreign, so at odds with everything he knew, that it almost felt like a trap. The idea that he might have any sort of autonomy, any say in what happened to his own body was terrifying.

Your simple act of requesting permission sent his mind reeling. It stirred up a maelstrom of conflicting instincts within him. Part of him yearned to seize this newfound agency, to exert control over his own choices. Yet another part, deeply ingrained and conditioned by years of abuse, screamed at him to flee. The mere possibility of having a choice was so overwhelming that it almost made him want to turn tail and run, to retreat to the familiar confines of obedience and subservience.

After a moment of internal struggle, he made a decision. He shifted closer to you.

His body language was a mix of caution and tentative trust as he allowed you to examine him. He was clad in the clothes you had provided, a simple black tank top and a pair of comfortable sweatpants. It wasn’t much, by any standards, but when he arrived at your home you had no men’s clothes at all. You hastily had to buy him an outfit of some kind. At least these clothes were stretchy, he hadn’t even told you his size.

His old uniform had been in a state of utter disrepair - torn, filthy, and reeking of neglect. You recalled the arduous process of attempting to salvage it, for whatever reason. The washing machine had groaned and protested, nearly breaking down after a single cycle as it battled against the ingrained grime and wear.

You delicately hooked your fingers into the elastic waistband of his sweatpants, slowly and cautiously tugging them down his thighs. This was different from when you had bathed him earlier; at that time, you hadn't been able to get a proper look at his condition. The warm water from the bath had caused his skin to flush, making any injuries blend seamlessly with the reddened areas. You hadn’t really looked at his lower areas either, your primary concern then had been to cleanse him thoroughly, rather than to scrutinize his body for signs of harm.

As the sweatpants descended to his knees, your eyes widened in shock, taking in the full extent of the damage. Angry welts and livid red lashes crisscrossed the backs of his thighs, creating a horrifying tapestry of abuse. The marks were severely inflamed, with some sporting small, beaded clots of blood that were desperately trying to peek through the swollen skin in an attempt to heal the split flesh. The pattern and severity of the injuries suggested that he had been repeatedly struck with a stick or a similar rigid object, each blow leaving its cruel imprint on his tender skin.

Your gaze followed the trail of lashes as they disappeared beneath the hem of his boxers, leading you to the realization that his buttocks likely bore the brunt of this vicious assault, explaining his evident discomfort and aversion to applying any sort of pressure to that area.

Steeling yourself for what you might find, you reached up to carefully peel down his boxers. As you did so, you offered him words of gentle reassurance, trying to comfort him since this was an extremely vulnerable position. "I'm just gonna take a look, okay?" you murmured soothingly as you slowly shimmied the underwear down to join the sweatpants at his knees, careful not to irritate his welts. Your suspicions were confirmed as the fabric fell away, revealing the full extent of the damage.

His buttocks were covered in a dense network of welts and bruises, the marks here even more numerous and severe than those on his thighs. Bruising painted his backside in various shades of purple, blue, and black, with the deepest bruises appearing almost pitch against his pale skin. The sight was enough to make your stomach churn, a mix of sympathy and anger rising within you at the thought of the pain he must be enduring.

Your gaze was drawn to the sight of dried blood on his inner thighs, your brow furrowing as you looked at the obvious bleeding that had been occurring. Without thinking, you instinctively reached out to get a closer look at the area, wondering if there was an open wound he had been concealing. You didn’t want him to have an infection, especially in that tender spot. Your hand gently caressed his cheek, gently trying to spread him to look.

Soldat's reaction to your sudden touch was immediate and he turned away from you, his movements awkward and uncoordinated due to his pants still being bunched around his knees. His eyes were wide with fear and anger, locked onto you as he glared fiercely.

"Не трогай меня!" He snapped, his voice sharp and filled with warning. The Russian words hung in the air between you as he stood rigidly, facing you with a defensive posture.

For a second, you were sure he was going to lash out at you physically with the way he postured up. But you realized that beneath the aggressive front he was putting on, fear was the dominant emotion. He continued to back away from you, his movements jerky and uncoordinated because of the way his pants were around his legs.

As he backed away, his knees collided with the edge of the mattress behind him. The impact caused him to lose balance, and he fell awkwardly into a seated position on the bed. The moment he made contact with the mattress, a sharp, pained sound escaped his lips, wincing as his face contorting in a grimace that showed the intense discomfort he felt from sitting. The force of his body weight had him sit harder than normal, the collision with the bed felt like he had fallen on his ass on the floor.

Almost as quickly as he sat, he struggled to his feet once more. His leg muscles flexed as he jerked himself upward, the sudden movement seemed to intensify his pain and you could see his knees trembling, threatening to give way beneath him. The agony that shot through his body was evident in every line of his face and every quiver of his muscles. He reached out and gripped the edge of the bed, trying to keep himself upright and not fall down to his knees.

Your heart ached seeing him so scared and hurt, especially in this sick way. You took a step forward, your hand held out as you cooed at him. "Soldat, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched without telling you. But you're bleeding, I just wanted to see where it was coming from, that's all." You attempted to explain your innocent reasoning, but he felt so much anxiety at the moment, he didn't trust you to just look. Those wild eyes made contact with yours, a look that told you to back off.

So you did. You didn't want to freak him out any more than he was right now.

His trembling legs felt uncontrollable, finally betraying him as he slowly collapsed to the floor, crumbling like a wilting flower. He surrendered to the soft embrace of the plush carpet beneath him, settling down on his side. He carefully curled into a tight ball, desperately trying to ignore the searing, relentless pain that radiated from his ass. The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming now that he had stimulated the pain by his accidental sit, causing him to retreat further into himself. It didn't help that memories were flooding his vision, he just saw boots surrounding him and vicious words being spat at him.

You observed his distress from a distance, recognizing the need for space in this. You made the decision to quietly exit the room, allowing him the solitude he seemed to desperately cling to. Attempting to intervene or offer comfort at this time would likely prove counterproductive, pushing too hard or too soon would only serve to exacerbate the situation, potentially causing him to withdraw even further. You wanted him to trust you so badly, but that meant patience was your best friend, and you required it for this delicate situation.

From what you had seen, your mind wandered to possible causes. You knew of the beating and relentless torture he faced, for whatever reason the idea of sexual assault hadn't crossed your mind until now. However...the blood trickling down his inner thigh felt like a slap in the face at your ignorance.

Of course they would do that. HYDRA was full of sick degenerates that were hungry for taboo and inhumane activities. The men in charge got away with everything, and being an asset in HYDRA was less than being a pet, a mere toy for pleasure and consumption. Soldat was basically just a doll for them to puppet around and fuck with.

After several long minutes had passed, you made your way back to the room. Soldat was still curled up tightly on the floor, his arms wrapped protectively around his face and his knees drawn up close to his chest. The poor soldier looked so pitiful as he curled into a small ball like that, as if he were shielding himself from an impending threat. Your heart ached at the sight, deep-seated fear must have driven him to such a defensive position.

You approached him.

Your feet moved silently across the plush carpet of the room, each step measured and deliberate so as not to startle him. As you drew closer, you lowered yourself to the ground, settling a few feet away from his huddled form. You wanted to be near enough to offer comfort, but far enough to give him the space he clearly needed.

"Soldat..." Your voice was barely above a whisper, soft and soothing to keep his frayed nerves calm. "Do you want me to help you clean up? I promise, I won't do anything you're not comfortable with. I'm not... I'm nothing like those bastards who hurt you." The last words came out with a hint of venom, your disgust for those who had mistreated him evident in your tone.

There was a moment of tense silence before Soldat eventually responded. He hesitantly lifted his head, the sight of his face made your heart clench. His face was flushed a deep red with random blotches, his eyes were glossier than you had ever seen them, brimming with unshed tears. The vulnerability in his gaze was almost unbearable to look at, making your chest feel tighter with each breath. You watched as he visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. His head inclined ever so slightly in what you interpreted as a nod of agreement.

Encouraged by his response, you continued in the same gentle tone, "I promise you, it'll help those welts feel better. Bit of cool water and some ointment will soothe the pain and help the inflammation." You paused, talking as if you were speaking to a frightened animal or scared child. "And I really need to make sure you don't have any tears or excessive bleeding down there. That could lead to infections or other bad things that will require more serious care, and I don't want your condition to worsen. I swear I'll be as gentle as possible."

A beat.

Then two.

Then three.

Soldat gave you another slow nod, just enough for you to notice his compliance. "I'm going to go grab some things, I'll be right back." You went to the bathroom where you kept a first aid kit, not really sure what you needed, but it contained some gels and ointments that you knew would at least soothe the swelling skin.

You carefully settled yourself beside him and reached for a bottle of soothing ointment, it was typically used for burns but equally effective for welts. The cool, smooth glass of the bottle felt reassuring in your palm as you unscrewed the cap. You squeezed a generous amount onto your fingertips, the translucent gel glistening and cooling your fingers already.

You lowered your hand to his ass, your fingers ghosting over his skin before making full contact. You tenderly began to spread the healing substance over one of his cheeks, ensuring every affected area was covered. You made sure not to press too hard, and to get it down his thighs too.

At the initial contact, his body tensed involuntarily. The sudden coolness of the gel against his heated skin elicited a sharp intake of breath, followed by a long, shuddering exhale. His mind reeled, struggling to process this new sensation. He never experienced the soothing balm of pain relief; it was an alien concept to him.

Throughout his time in HYDRA, he had been conditioned to endure, to bear the full brunt of every punishment, every ache, every sting. The mantra that had been drilled into him echoed in his mind: pain was the sculptor of his being, the unyielding order he was meant to follow. It was through suffering, they said, that he would be molded into their ideal.

And so, he had taken it all - every lash, every blow, every tormenting penetration they forced onto him. The pain had been relentless, a constant companion that he had learned to expect and accept, no matter how intense or unbearable it became.

But right now, things were different. For the first time in decades, the familiar sting of pain was gradually being replaced by a soothing coolness that spread across his skin. The sensation was so different, of relief, of comfort, of care. The contrast between what he had always known and what he was now feeling was stark and overwhelming, almost triggering him to react and wipe it away, to feel that horrible pain once again. He at least knew who he was, who he was supposed to be with the pain accompanying him like his shadow. Without it, the sliver of knowledge of his being was gone.

"Most of the lashes are already clotted to heal so...there's no need to bandage them." You spoke calmly, satisfied with the ointment being spread on him. "But I will wipe away the bit of blood from between your legs, okay?"

Soldat, still reeling from the memories plaguing his mind, somehow understood your words and gave a tentative nod.

He felt the warm, damp cloth gently press against his sensitive inner thigh, the soothing heat gradually softening the dried, crusted blood. With each careful stroke, you cleaned away the remnants of his ordeal. Even after it had long been over, his body carried the wounds of it, reminding him of the painful experiences. Your touch was tender, as if you were handling something precious and fragile. The level of care you were showing him left him with feelings he couldn't quite decipher. He struggled to understand and accept your gentle treatment with his own self-perception. You approached him with a kindness and respect typically reserved for fellow human beings, a category he had long since excluded himself from.

He was a machine.

He was a toy.

He was HYDRA’s fist.

He was not a person.

You delicately cleansed between the affected areas, ensuring no trace of blood remained. Your movements were slow and deliberate as you navigated around the swollen, tender flesh, careful with the area since you knew it was very intimate and you didn’t want him to feel like he were being threatened. After all the blood was washed away, you applied a cooling balm specifically formulated to alleviate inflammation and discomfort in that sensitive region.

"There we go...all done," you murmured softly. Your hand was so warm and comforting, trailed along his back in a gesture of reassurance. To your surprise, he didn't flinch or pull away from your touch, a small victory in itself considering he would with any other kind of physical gesture. Mustering his strength, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, twisting slightly to survey the damage inflicted upon his body.

Soldat turned away as quickly as he saw it, his mouth contorting into a pained grimace. The soldier couldn't bear to look anymore, his mind reeling from the vivid memories that assaulted him.

He felt the phantom strikes of various implements of torture - the sharp sting of canes and crops swinging down against his ass.

The bruising impact of hands and boots, the searing pain of teeth sinking into his abused flesh, and the cruel bite of leather belts. He especially hated when the buckle hit his groin.

These ghostly sensations, etched deep into his psyche, haunting him with the horrors he endured, making him flinch involuntarily as if the torment was happening all over again.

"It's okay." You whispered, "You are safe now." Your hand rubbed circles on his back, you'd keep this in mind, this kind of assault he endured. It was complicate things in the future, but for now all you cared about was his comfortability. You continued to whisper comforting things, pulling a blanket over him that had been on the floor by his makeshift bed. You draped it over his backside, covering him and giving him some kind of security with feeling covered up.

For the first time, he seemed to be accepting your touch without reservations, as you felt the soldier's back muscles relax under your palm.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier x reader #the winder soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x you #captain america the winter soldier #catws #bucky barnes angst #blythewrites⛓

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago

Text

Nature Conservation

Male Crocodile Hybrid Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, no pain, stalking, kidnapping, oviposition, non-human genitals, big slimy reptile dick, fucked senseless, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 550

(Y'all voted for crocodile man so y'all get crocodile man! Not beta read. Please forgive any mistakes.)

Wreck, the crocodile man, was massive. Large even for his species he was over 7ft. tall, and all muscle. His entire body was covered in thick scales, his fingers clawed and his back studded with sharp ridges.

And his long slimy cock, normally tucked away in his genital slit, was currently pounding away relentlessly into your shaking body.

Drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as you made a symphony of pleasured noises.

Wreck couldn't be happier. Your tight warmth felt just perfect around his large reptilian cock. You were made for him, he was convinced of it.

When he first saw you he was intrigued and watched you intently. You were a conservationist working to preserve the mangrove habitat that he called home.

Most humans he had to scare off, they came here drunk and got garbage everywhere. But not you. You did the opposite.

But you weren't stupid, you came with a group that you led to stay safe. Dangers lurked in these waters.

You noticed the croc man watching you and feared he may be hunting you. Which was true. He was hunting you. But not for a meal.

It took him a while to coax you into letting him get close to you. But Wreck was persistent.

It started by shouting conversations and curiously asking you questions followed by gratitude for your efforts to clean the environment. Soon he could sit by you and share food with you.

Wreck figured if he brought you some cooked food it would subconsciously make you aware that he was a capable provider. And it would also put you at ease because you could see he wasn't hungry and even had food to spare. So you would know he had no interest in harming a human for a meal.

He integrated himself into your group and helped you all gather garbage. He even posed for photographs that would be used to promote the work the group was doing.

Finally he got you alone. He clasped your mouth shut and dragged you into the water, swimming away with you to his cozy little cave before anyone noticed your absence.

Wreck wasted no time at all in removing your bothersome clothing and sliding his tapered dick right into you. It was so slimy that you didn't need any preparation and there was no pain, just a sudden fullness.

It had all happened so fast that you were stunned by confusion. One moment you were sitting at the water's edge beside Wreck and the next thing you knew you were being bred.

He put one of his hands at your hips and the other on your chest, claws raking carefully against your flesh but not breaking the skin.

You whimpered loudly as he fucked into you, and began moving back against him, desperate to have him even deeper.

His large body molded around yours as you both came hard.

You were panting, starting to realize what had just happened when, much to your surprise, the cock in you deposited a large egg inside you.

The day had started with dreams of cleaning up the environment for the animals and your crocodile friend. And now you were the environment for a crocodile egg.

And if Wreck had his way then this certainly wouldn't be the last one.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #Yandere #Yandere monster man #Yandere x reader #male yandere x gn reader #Gender neutral reader #Monster boyfriend #yandere boyfriend #monster x reader #My OCs #My OC Wreck

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queenofwands89 · 10 months ago

Text

The Storm Within Tyler Owens x fem!reader

Summary: What dramatic turn of events unfolds when Y/N storms off after an argument with Tyler, only to face the fury of a tornado that strikes their town and leaves Y/N injured?

Warnings: Tornado (duh lol), angst, arguing, mention of injuries, description of injuries, sad.

Notes: I wrote this because I am a whore for Tyler, and I love angst and pain. Enjoy byeeee

You feel the tension build in the air long before Tyler raises his voice. It's the kind of unease that clings to the back of your mind, an ineffable sense that something is about to go terribly wrong. You stand in the spacious, cluttered garage that serves as the command center for Tyler's storm-chasing crew. The storm models flashing on the multiple screens show bleak promises of another monstrous storm front moving across Oklahoma.

It starts as a simple disagreement. Tyler is passionate—almost recklessly so—about chasing a particular storm cell that evening. You object, voicing your concerns about the jeopardy it poses not only to Tyler but also to the entire crew.

"You never listen, Tyler!" Your voice quavers, your frustration edging too close to the surface. Your heart hammers in your chest. "You treat this like it's some adventure, but it’s dangerous!"

Tyler rakes his fingers through his hair, his expression a mix of determination and exasperation. "It's because it is dangerous," he shoots back. "But we do this because it saves lives, Y/N. If we can predict these storms better, we can give people the time they need to get to safety."

"And what about us? What about the people who love you? Are we just collateral damage in your crusade?"

Boone, who has been editing footage on his laptop nearby, looks up, his usually cheerful face clouded with concern. Lilly and Dexter exchange worried glances, while Dani silently tinkers with a drone, her stoic demeanor betrayed by the slightest furrow of her brow.

"I can’t sit by and do nothing while you risk everything, Tyler!" Your eyes well up with tears that you fiercely try to blink away. "One day, you might not come back."

Tyler sighs heavily. He takes a step towards you, but you instinctively recoil, the hurt in your eyes deepening the chasm between you. "Y/N, you know I love you, but this—this is what I do. It’s who I am."

"Well, I can't do this right now," you say, your voice cracking. "I need to clear my head."

Without another word, you grab your coat and storm out of the garage, slamming the door behind you. The echo of the slam lingers, punctuating the silence that envelops the room.

Tyler turns back to his crew, realizing that the argument has sapped the collective energy and morale. Boone breaks the silence with his usual attempt at lightening the mood.

"She'll cool off, man. Just give her some time," he offers, though his eyes betray the uncertainty he feels.

Lilly nods, her calm demeanor trying to instill a sense of reassurance. "Tyler, she just needs space. She loves you; that much is clear. Just let her process this."

Dexter, wiser and ever the emotional compass, adds softly, "Sometimes the best way to show love is to step back and let them come to terms with their fears on their own."

Tyler nods, although doubt gnaws at him. There is a sort of irony in chasing something as unpredictable as a tornado and yet being completely at a loss when it comes to matters of the heart.

You storm off down the gravel road, away from the storm-chasing headquarters. The expanses of Oklahoma stretch around you, vast and indifferent. You walk quickly, your thoughts a tumultuous whirl that rivals the storm brewing on the horizon.

Before long, a low rumble of thunder echoes in the distance. Your instincts tell you to seek shelter, but you are too consumed by your emotions to heed the warnings. Your phone buzzes, probably Jake checking in with you, but you ignore it.

As minutes turn to an hour, the sky darkens ominously, the oppressive weight of the storm hanging palpably in the air. You look up just as the first sharp gust of wind howls past you, sending a chill down your spine.

Your phone rings again. This time, you pick it up. It is Tyler.

"Y/N, you need to get back here. Now! There's an strom projected to hit our area. It's not safe out there!"

Before you can respond, the roar of the wind drowns out his voice. In the distance, a wall of debris begins to rise—terrifying in its beauty and formidable in its power. You feel a jolt of fear as you realize the windstorm is bearing down on you.

Panic-stricken, you try to find cover, but there is nowhere to go. The winds intensify, whipping your hair across your face and pulling at your clothes. In a desperate attempt to hold onto something, anything, you grab onto a nearby fence post as the monstrous tornado descends upon the town.

Back at the garage, the team is glued to their screens, tracking the terrifying path of the cyclone. Tyler's eyes are wide with dread, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"We need to go find her!" he shouts, his voice breaking with worry as he lunges toward the door.

Dexter and Boone spring into action, their grips tight on his arms, holding him back with all their strength. "Tyler, we will find her," Dexter insists, his voice steady yet intense. "But rushing headfirst into this will only get us all killed. We need a plan."

Tyler struggles against their hold, desperation etched into every line of his face. "You don't understand! She’s out there, and every second counts!"

Lilly's eyes mirror his fear but she nods in agreement with Dexter. "He's right, Tyler. We have to be smart about this."

Dani is already at the armored storm-chasing vehicle, her fingers flying over the controls as she starts the engine. "Let's go," she commands, her voice a beacon of resolve amidst the chaos.

The ride out is like plunging into a nightmare. The town around them is unrecognizable—a hellscape of uprooted trees, shattered windows, and debris swirling in the violent wind. The roar of the storm is deafening, a monstrous wall of sound that seems intent on swallowing them whole.

Every turn is fraught with danger, every street a potential deathtrap. The armored vehicle groans under the force of the gale, but it presses onward, cutting a determined path through the destruction.

Tyler's eyes scan the devastation, his heart pounding, every fiber of his being focused on one thing: finding you. The storm's fury lashes at them, but their resolve is unbreakable. They are driven by a singular, desperate hope—to bring you back alive.

As the harrowing storm begins to relent, the world around you is a landscape of devastation. The monstrous tornado has passed, leaving behind a chaotic aftermath. The team ventures deeper into the wreckage, eyes scanning anxiously for any sign of you.

Then they see you. Crumpled on the ground, clutching a fence post as though it’s the only thing tethering you to life, you lie unconscious, battered by the storm’s fury. Debris is scattered all around, a haunting testament to the storm's wrath. Tyler's heart wrenches at the sight.

Without a second thought, he leaps out of the vehicle, ignoring the stinging wind and flying debris that tug at his clothes and batter his body. "No, no, no," he mutters under his breath, sprinting towards you with a singular focus.

"Y/N!" he cries out, his voice breaking as he nears you. The sound barely cuts through the howl of the wind. He kneels beside you, wrapping his arms around your frail form, shielding you from the remnants of the storm. "Please, Y/N. Wake up."

Boone, sitting in the driver’s seat, immediately jumps out of the vehicle as well. He turns to Lilly and Dexter, his expression serious and determined. "Lilly, grab the emergency blankets. Dexter, I need you to help get Y/N into the truck, now!"

Boone rushes over to Tyler, his mouth set in a grim line. "Tyler, move aside. We need to get her stabilized." He swiftly yet carefully checks your pulse and breathing. "She's still with us. We have to move quickly."

“Be careful!” Tyler shouts over the wind to the crew, his voice tinged with panic. “She’s hurt!”

They work with meticulous care, gently extricating you from the wreckage. Tyler's hands shake as he helps lift you, his mind a whirlwind of desperate prayers and fear.

Dani, standing nearby, fights back tears, her voice breaking as she says, "Hang in there, Y/N. We’re not losing you."

They rush you back to the relative safety of the vehicle, urgency in every step. The vehicle starts moving, navigating through the storm’s terrible wake with a singular mission: to get you to medical attention.

Tyler sits beside you, cradling your hand in his, his eyes never leaving your face. “Hang in there, Y/N,” he whispers, as though sheer willpower could keep you tethered to life. “We’re almost there. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The crew speeds through the chaotic aftermath, dodging fallen branches and uprooted signs. Dexter keeps a vigilant eye on the road, never slowing down. Lilly's hands shake as she dabs at your wounds with a cloth from the medical kit, trying to do whatever she can to help.

All the while, Tyler stays with you, his heart breaking and yet holding onto hope, as the vehicle barrels towards the hospital, each mile bringing you closer to safety. Tyler holds you tightly, his voice trembling and tears mingling with the rain on his cheeks as he whispers, "I'm so sorry. I love you. Please, hold on. Just hold on a little longer, baby."

#tyler owens #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x reader #twisters fanfic #twisters #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens fanfiction #glen powell #glen powell fanfic #angst #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #lilly #boone #dexter #dani

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fanzou · 4 months ago

Text

✗ Genre: Smut

“What, best friends don’t fuck?” He poses the questions so innocently, like it’s nothing. He’s kneeling between your legs and his very prominent bulge is inches close to you.

“S-Sanji…” You’re blushing like a damn virgin, “If someone finds us out—”

“—But they won’t, we’ll be quiet, princess. Trust me.” He’s rubbing his broad hand across your lap and your skirt is threatening to expose so much more than you wanted it to, and you’d venture to think that’s exactly what he was trying to make happen.

You’re nervous, only because anyone could walk right through that wooden door into the dark room you both were in. Sanji doesn’t give a shit, and it’s written all over his face and body.

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, fine… but make it quick alright?”

His breath hitches, and you can see his muscles relax a little bit over your demand. He’s waited so long for this and tonight was the perfect night to finally make a move. Everyone was drunk out their mind anyways, so it didn’t matter. You were the only two fully conscious on board, though the concept seems surprising.

He’s removing his belt, and his long fingers moving so skillfully makes the heat in between your legs so much more noticeable. It’s practically radiating off of you and Sanji digs his thigh closer between your legs.

You didn’t wanna seem eager but the image in front of you was nothing short of exciting and it’s getting you to almost hypnotically move your hands to take off your panties while the man across from you already had his cock sprung and ready to put inside of you. What can he say? You told him to make it quick.

With your bare cunt facing him and your legs spread wide, you’re practically begging him to start his attack. Even though this was something that he wanted to make special, thoughtful and something never to forget, he guessed this could suffice.

Sanji lines himself up, and presses his cock against you. The intrusion was so much more than you thought it’d be. And it feels amazing. Amazing in the worst and best ways, the way it fully splits you and stuffs you all the same. It’s pleasurable and painful at the same time.

But you can’t let anyone sniff you both out. You’ll just have to get your quick orgasm in before anyone starts to suspect where you both have run off to. “Fuuuuuck… g-go… faster.”

And so he obeys, so much for truly being able to relish it.

He’s hardly a man who liked to be rushed during sex, his curved cock is grazing your insides just a little rougher than when he started and the whimper you let out proves it. “D-Don’t worry my love… next time… it’ll be so much more better. But I couldn’t stand it anymore. ‘Really fuckin’ needed you… oh shit.”

Your pleasure subsides for a second trying to puzzle together his insinuation, but then you hear something; footsteps.

Your eyes widen and dart at the door, then to Sanji, but he doesn’t care, he just comes closer to you and puts hand over your mouth. His grin gets wider and wider.

And he’s fucking you so much more quieter but there’s so much power in his thrusts, he tries not to push against your thighs too much because he knows the slapping will probably alert whoever was walking towards your room. He sloppily tries covering your sides with a blanket, this’ll work, he says, and he’s back to fucking you just a little harder than he did before.

You make it known to him, vocally, that you really appreciated the gesture.

The footsteps get louder and closer to where you can almost feel the vibrations off the floor. Sanji’s hand is like tape around your mouth, he wants you quiet but he fucks you like he’s daring you. He looks at you, then he looks to the door.

The steps are right by the door now, and they stop. Your heart drops.

“Where do you think shitty cook’s gone? Need him to get me some more booze.”

Sanji’s ecstatic. Like he wants Zoro to walk in, walk in on you getting fucked like your life depended on it. And you could sit here and pretend that you were absolutely in great terror of being found out by someone about the predicament you were in, but your pussy told the truth.

Much to Sanji’s disappointment, his sloppy and drunk footsteps walk the other direction. He removes his hand and watches your frustrated expression manifest.

You were clenching around him tighter and tighter and he knew exactly what that meant for you, the closer proximity between his cock in your tightened cunt made him feel like reeling into his own orgasm.

“You wanted him to walk in. Didn’t y-you? Yeah. You’re so d-dirty… ‘Wanted this more than me, huh princess?”

You could only take so much dirty talk. “Saaaaaaanji… stop talking… oh—” he pushes impossibly deep inside of you, and that’s when you let go. It was too much.

You squirted everywhere. And that was an understatement. It was bad. Like a lot of it went onto the floor and you’d have to clean it immediately after. But for now, Sanji’s chasing his own high. “You’re so… perfect. Fuck you’re amazing. Where do you want me, beautiful?” His thrusts get messy and the blanket is long gone, his skin on yours.

Not wanting anymore mess and a more obvious crime scene, “Just c-cum on my—fuck—stom-ach.

He obeys, and pulls out, he strokes himself on your stomach, with some of it pulling into your belly button. “Yeeees princeeeeess, oh shit…”

His chest is moving up and down and he stares at you lovingly before he smiles, it’s a genuine one, not laced with anything impure or malicious this time, fortunately for you. He’s back to normal Sanji.

“So… what would you have done if he walked in?” You ask him, genuinely curious.

“He’s plastered so, would’ve just made him watch us fuck. He probably wouldn’t have remembered it anyway.” He lays down next to you. “And if he did? ‘Nother thing to hold over his head.” You nuzzle into his chest for the short duration of time you had.

✗ A/N: Was drunk writing this. Do not mind the grammatical errors if there is any.

#sanji x y/n #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #sanji smut #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #law trafalgar #law trafalgar x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece masterlist

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inseobts · 3 months ago

Note

could I please get a Luffy x Fem reader where the reader has a really big crush on Luffy and she’s always embarrassing herself in front of him in attempts to flirt with him but he doesn’t take the hint and Nami or Robin or even both notice her failed attempts and try to attempt to get Luffy to understand how she’s basically trying to show that she has feelings for him, or something like that. I feel like it would be super cute! You can make it as embarrassing as you want lol! Thank you!!

Clueless Captain, Hopeless Crush

luffy x fem!reader

a/n: this was so cute byeeeeeeeee

words count: 1.1k

tags: fluffy, sfw, humour, embrassing reader

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The Sunny sways gently over the waves, the sun high in the sky as the Straw Hats enjoy a peaceful afternoon. You, however, are suffering as always.

“Okay, okay, just go up to him and say something flirty. You’ve got this” you mumble to yourself, hyping yourself up as you pace back and forth on the deck. Nami and Robin watch from nearby, sipping their drinks, clearly entertained by your struggle.

“Seems like she’s going to embarrass herself again” Nami mutters, smirking.

“Of course” Robin replies, amused.

Taking a deep breath, you march up to Luffy, who’s sitting cross-legged, munching on a piece of meat. He looks up at you, chewing loudly.

“Hey, Luffy~” you purr... well, attempt to. It comes out as more of a wheeze because you’re so nervous. You clear your throat and try again, resting your elbow on the railing in what you think is a cool, flirty pose “You know… if you ever need someone to keep you warm at night… my arms are always open.”

Luffy blinks “Huh? But I already have a blanket.”

Your entire soul leaves your body.

“I—I mean, like, if you ever get lonely—”

“I’m not lonely. I have you guys!” he grins “And meat!”

Nami actually facepalms while Robin chuckles softly behind her hand.

You force out a nervous laugh “Hahah, right! Meat! Can’t compete with that!” You take a step back, only to trip over your own feet and fall straight onto your back.

“Whoa! You okay?” Luffy leans over, his face suddenly close to yours, eyes filled with innocent concern.

For a second, you just stare at him, heart hammering “Y-Yeah” you squeak, scrambling up so fast you almost fall again “See ya!” You bolt away, hiding behind Nami and Robin.

Nami lets out a long sigh “That was painful to watch.”

Robin sips her tea “At this point, you should just spell it out for him.”

“But he’s so dense! I’d have better luck flirting with the mast” you groan.

Robin hums thoughtfully “Perhaps, a more direct approach is needed.”

A few days later, the crew is having dinner, and you’re seated next to Luffy. It’s the perfect chance to try again. Nami and Robin give you knowing looks, silently cheering you on.

You take a deep breath and turn to Luffy “Hey, Luffy… have you ever thought about, you know, kissing someone?”

Luffy, mid-bite, stops chewing “Kissing? Like when Sanji tries with those girls he always gets punched by?”

You laugh nervously “Uh, kinda! But, like… what if someone you like wanted to kiss you?”

Luffy tilts his head “Like who?”

Your face burns “I-I don’t know! M-maybe someone right in front of you?”

Luffy looks around “Zoro?”

You choke on your drink. Nami slams her forehead onto the table. Sanji wheezes in the background.

Robin chuckles “Oh dear.”

You grab Luffy’s shoulders desperately “No! Not Zoro! Me!”

Luffy stares at you “You? But why?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, taking the most dramatic, desperate breath of your life “Because I like you, you big, biiiiig idiot!”

Silence. Then—

“Ohhh!” Luffy’s eyes light up “You mean like-like me!”

You nod rapidly.

Luffy grins “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

You stare at him, mouth open “WHAT DO YOU THINK I’VE BEEN DOING?!”

Luffy just laughs, rubbing the back of his head “I dunno! You kept falling down and making weird faces, so I thought you were just being funny!”

Nami looks so done. Robin hides a smile.

Luffy suddenly leans closer, his face inches from yours “So, if you like me, does that mean I can kiss you?”

Your brain short-circuits “I—uh—wh—YES?”

Luffy grins wide, then leans in and presses a quick, innocent kiss to your cheek “Cool! I like you too y/n!”

The whole crew erupts into chaos, Sanji screaming dramatically, Usopp nearly falling overboard, and Nami looking ready to throw something at Luffy for not just saying all this earlier.

But you? You just sit there, face on fire, trying not to explode from sheer happiness.

The crew is in absolute chaos.

Sanji is on his knees, gripping the table like he’s in agony “WHY, Y/N?! WHY HIM?!”

You blink, still recovering from the fact that Luffy just kissed your cheek and declared you his girlfriend “Wait… what?”

Sanji points an accusatory finger at you, his face a mix of devastation and betrayal “Out of everyone on this ship, you picked him?! The most clueless, meat-obsessed, reckless idiot to ever live?!”

Luffy, still sitting right next to you, grins “Yep!”

Sanji glares at him “You stay out of this.”

Luffy tilts his head “Why? She’s my girlfriend now!”

You let out an embarrassing squeak.

Sanji dramatically grabs his chest like he’s been stabbed “Girlfriend?! Oh, this is a nightmare! Y/N, my sweet, darling y/n, I’ve been here this whole time! Showering you with compliments, treating you like a queen—”

“You literally do that to every woman...” Usopp interrupts, deadpan.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” Sanji cries “You were different, Y/N! I thought— I thought we had something special!”

You blink at him “…Sanji, I tripped over myself every time I tried to flirt with Luffy. I was dying over here.”

Luffy nods enthusiastically “Yeah, she kept saying weird stuff and falling down a lot.”

“That’s what flirting looks like?!” Sanji shouts, throwing his hands up “Then what have I been doing this whole time?!”

“Being annoying” Zoro mutters into his drink.

Sanji lunges at him “SHUT UP, MARIMO! THIS ISN’T ABOUT ME, IT’S ABOUT Y/N MAKING A TERRIBLE LIFE CHOICE!”

Luffy snorts “How is it terrible? I think it’s great!” He turns to you with that signature wide grin “Right, y/n?”

Your brain is still struggling to process everything “Uh… y-yeah?”

Sanji groans, dragging his hands down his face “I can’t believe this. I lost to him.”

Robin chuckles “It’s not a competition, Sanji.”

“For her love, it is!” Sanji gestures dramatically at you “I would’ve given you the world, Y/N! Candlelit dinners! Romantic dances! Heartfelt poetry—”

“You can’t even write poetry” Nami points out.

Sanji lets out a loud, pained wail.

Meanwhile, Luffy, completely unbothered by Sanji’s suffering, leans closer to you “Hey, y/n, since we’re dating now, does that mean I get more kisses?”

Your soul leaves your body “I—uh—wha—”

“Like this?” He presses another quick, innocent kiss to your cheek.

You make a noise that’s somewhere between a squeak and a scream.

Sanji grabs his chest like he’s actually about to have a heart attack “LUFFY, STOP CORRUPTING HER WITH YOUR IDIOCY!”

Nami groans “Oh great, now we have two idiots in love.”

Robin just smiles, sipping her tea “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

Luffy laughs, completely unaware of the emotional destruction he’s causing you and Sanji “I like you a lot, y/n!”

You can barely think straight. This is it. This is how you die.

And Sanji? He just slams his head onto the table, muttering “I should’ve confessed first.”

But who cares about him? Now you can finally stop embarrassing yourself… or will you?

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svetamillss · 5 months ago

Text

Headcanons: your NSFW relationship with her🫦

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

Warning: NSFW, but not very fat

A/N: This is the first time I've written something like this, sorry if it turned out badly! Orders are always open!

🫦🫦🫦

🫦Your Hyunnie is always very gentle with you. Although many people, looking at her, may think that she is a beast in bed, this is not true at all. She always asking: "Baby, are you okay?", "Aren't you in pain?". Of course, she can be rude to you in bed, but only if you want it. You have everything by mutual consent.

🫦 Hyun Ju loves to flirt with you, she really likes to see your reaction, how your cheeks blush a lot with embarrassment. That's why she uses it even during sex, which is doubly pleasant for you.

- Baby, when you blush so much, I want to eat you even more. - she says right in your ear, in response she only gets a moan from you.

- Baby, call me the way you always do it, I want to hear you.

- Hyunnie...

🫦 Her weak point is her ears and chest, so you pay a lot of attention to these places. In a whisper in your ears, you tell her all kinds of vulgar and gentle compliments. And you always gently caress and kiss her breasts, after all, Hyun Ju survived the operation on it, so she feels everything on it very strongly and sharply.

🫦 You promised her that when she makes a full transition to a girl, you will try a lot of lesbian poses with her, but for now one of your favorite poses is the one when you sit on her face. It confuses you a lot, but your girlfriend assures that she really likes to feast on you like this. Of course, you also have simple sex when she inserts her dick into you.

🫦 Your girlfriend likes to wear lace underwear, not only because she likes it, but also to tease you, because she knows that you have a weakness for it.

After she slowly undresses in front of you, remaining only in lace underwear, you immediately raid on her with kisses, in general, this underwear will never be on her for a long time.

🫦🫦🫦

#cho hyun ju x reader #cho hyunju #hyunju x reader #hyun ju squid game #player 120 #squid games x reader #hyun ju #squid game #squid game headcanons #hedcanon

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daisiescomelate · 6 months ago

Text

Collision

Prompt: Unfortunately, Sylus decided to drop by your apartment for a surprise visit the same day Zayne agreed to stay the night.

Content: Zayne&Reader, Sylus&Reader. no proofread sorry.

masterlist

Credits rolled on the screen and you cheered with a round of applause. Zayne followed your lead with his usual lack of intention to show enthusiasm and a stoic face. As the black screen led to a final musical number with all the crew in colorful outfits, you stretched your arms over your head and rolled your neck to get rid of the stiffness of laying on the floor for so long.

The lights were down and the cortines closed to add to the atmosphere. You sang to the tune, following the choreography you knew by heart with exaggerated passion, pushing Zayne’s arm to encourage him to join you. He didn’t, of course. Instead, he straightened his crossed legs and stood with his socks over the sheets and cushions you had thrown over the carpet to get yet another extra layer between you and the cold tile.

You held a high note holding an invisible microphone to your face, throwing your head back and striking a pose. You then motion to Zayne to take the spotlight for the next line.

“C’mon, Zayne! I know you’re a good singer!” You teased him.

“I prefer to keep my talents to myself.” Mr. Too Cool To Party pated over his dress pants to shape them back into their ironed form. “And lower your volume, you’ll get complaints from the neighbors.”

You didn’t let his attitude kill your mood –but you did quiet down a little bit, just in case.

“What time is it?” You asked as the music died down and the screen faded back to black. The sudden pain and tingly sensation that took over when you moved your leg warned you not to try to get on your feet just yet.

Zayne fixed up the sleeves of his shirt, pulling them back down and buttoning them up. He flicked his wrist so he could see his watch properly, then walked to the closest window and pulled the heavy clothes just a small fraction out of the way with one finger. The sky was a dark mass sprinkled with silver dust. The city lights painted reds, whites and yellows as far as the eye could see.

“Twenty minutes ‘till two.” Said Zayne, letting his finger drop and covering the view back down again. And moving to the stitch on the wall to turn on the lights of the living room.

You blinked.

“Wow.” Almost two in the morning?

You invited Zayne over for a movie marathon. It was a plan you had been postponing for a few weeks since his schedule was often messy and unpredictable. You guessed maybe now that you had finally been able to do it you got a little bit over excited and ‘Just one more movie’ turned into this.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was this late.” You scratched your neck and felt a tweak of guilt in your chest.

“It’s okay. Tomorrow is my day off. Well… today.” You winced. Zayne rarely had a good night of sleep pulling so many extra hours at work. To top it off, you picked him up from the hospital that afternoon after a long shift and he was too stubborn to take a nap. You didn’t even want to think how long he had been awake by now. He was certainly in no condition to drive.

“Do you want to stay the night?”

The question seemed to have taken him off guard because he stiffed before squaring his back again. He coughed and turned his face to look at you from over his shoulder.

“There is no need for that.”

“You have been awake for too long for it to be safe to sit behind the wheel.”

“I can just call a cab for that.” He pulled his phone from his pocket as if to prove he could.

“How long is it going to be until you get home? Aren’t you tired?”

“It’ll be forty minutes at most.” He typed on his password and set a stubborn hand over his waist. You looked at the side of his profile, and bit your lower lip. If there was one person who was more bullheaded than you, that was Dr. Zayne.

You made an effort to stand and walked to his side, trying to pick your face between him and his phone screen to force him to look at you for a second. He ignored you.

“We had plenty of sleepovers when we were kids, it would be nice to do it again. You rarely come to my apartment if it’s not to pick me up for something.” His expression didn’t show any sign of hesitation. You decided to take out the heavy ammunition. Knowing Zayne’s weak spot for puppy eyes after seeing him give in to his smallest patiences’ trickery, you hucked your hands around his arm and with pouty lips –Zayne’s health came before dignity– you attempted an attack.

“Please? I’m worried about you.”

Zayne looked down and away from the screen when you tugged on his arm. The words he was about to say died on his tongue and after a stuttering couple of minutes, an emotion you couldn’t catch flashed across his eyes. Probably the effect of your inexperienced pleading. God, you were sure you looked ridiculous right now.

I do this for your own good, Zayne.

His expression went from startled to a frown, but you didn’t budget. You could see a hint of internal struggle, which meant that it was working, so you squeezed his arm a little bit closer to your chest and waited.

Finally, the struggle gave way to resignation and you knew you'd had won.

“Fine.” He said in a cold voice. He held the bridge of his nose with two fingers and closed his eyes with exasperation, “but let go of my arm.”

You let a triumphal smile spread across your face since he couldn’t see you and you let go. “Great!” You sang, “We’ll have to find you some clothes for you to sleep on. I’m sure I have some oversize pieces at the back of my closet. Let me look for them.”

You ran off to your room, leaving a distress doctor sighing at your back.

No more than fifthteen minutes later, Zayne was on your biggest (oldest) black hoodie, stretched and torn after so many washing cycles, and a pair of gray sweatpants that barely got to his calf. You had retrieved a back up toothbrush from a dark corner of the cabinet –still in its box–, and he was brushing in the bathroom while you finished picking up the stuff in the living room.

“You are too big for the couch, I’m telling you. And you can’t sleep while sitting down, your neck will kill you tomorrow.” One argument had turned into the next. Now you were trying to explain to a six-foot-one man how tall he was. “And you could sleep on the floor if you wanted, but my bed is big. I don’t know why this is such a big deal for y—”

The doorbell rang from across the room giving you a startle.

Shi—.

“Who rings someone’s doorbell at two in the morning?” You asked, annoyed. What a way to scare the living hell out of someone.

You heard Zayne’s voice muffled from the bathroom.

“Probably some kids playing around.” His voice was followed by the sound of water running as he rinsed his mouth.

You scolded and dropped the cushions in their designated spot over the dining chairs. With angry stumps, you moved to the small screen next to the door. The security camera showed the image of the main door of the building.

Empty.

There was no one in front of the glass windows, not even a shadow under the iridescent light of the streets.

They run off. Rascals.

You prompted both your fits over your waist. “Seriously, that’s just annoying. I don’t see how this would be entertaining for anyone.”

“You can’t take in a joke?” Zayn’s voice sounds closer than before. He had walked off the bathroom and was moving to the kitchen area with that signature faint smirk in his lips.

“Oh, shut up.” You shushed him. You heard a low chuckle and the clinking of glass as he looked for something in one of the cabinets. You turned back to the screen, bent over and squinted your eyes, paying close attention for any sign of movement. Nothing.

Fine. You will let it go this time, but next time you would teach them not to play pranks on a hunter’s house.

You straighten back up and turn around. Immediately, someone knocked on the door behind you.

“What—!” You jumped.

“What was that?” Zayne asked from the kitchen.

“I– A neighbor?” You asked, your voice full of doubt even as you said it. You turned back to look at the door.

Oh, fuck. It was the singing, wasn’t it?

You groaned and covered your face, feeling the blood rushing to your face, making it go hot.

“I told you they would complain.” Said Zayne all coky, seemingly having the same idea as you.

“Be quiet. I stopped singing a while ago, this is probably because you were being stubborn about the couch. They probably hear us screaming at each other from one room to the other.”

“Well, I don’t live here, so this is your problem.”

You sighed. You were regretting your merciful soul. Maybe you should have let him fall asleep behind the wheel so he would learn his lesson by himself. No, you slapped your face with both hands. Leave those dark thoughts. One problem at a time.

Taking a deep breath, you faced the door. You fixed your appearance as best as you could before taking the doorknob into your hand and plastering an apologetic smile into your face. You opened the door slowly, and embarrassingly showed yourself from the crack of the door.

The apology dried down in your lips and your eyes went wide when you saw the person at the other side. The shock was such that you weren't able to hold back the surprise pitch in your voice when a word escape you,

“Sylus?!”

“Lower your volume, kitten. It’s late.” He laughed and held a finger to his lips. He stood there in his whole glory, covered in black leather. His jacket opened to show a white shirt with a small stain of blood close to the hem of his neck and his golden pendant hanging over his chest. His red eyes flickering with the light of the common corridor.

You started with your mouth open and let the expression set, seemingly pleased to have baffled you stupid as he often did. What is he doing at the door of your apartment? Your blood rushed again, this time with a more displeasing feeling.

You held the door tight, narrowing the gap that let him see into the apartment as much as you could without closing it right in front of his face.

“There are cameras everywhere in this building. I told you to stop doing this. What are you doing here?” You whispered between greeted teeth, a mix of anger and alarm.

He lowered himself to be eye to eye with you, placing a heavy hand against the door. Not yet pushing it open, but to at least make sure you couldn’t lock him out. He followed you lead by whispering his next words too.

“I missed you, that’s all.” His eyes flashed with amusement. Great, you gave him a great reaction –that sight of infatuation he liked to trigger on you– and now he was hooked and ready to play you around.

You swallow the come back lingering at the tip of your tongue. Don’t entertain him. You kept your expression neutral but firm when you said,

“Not today, Sylus.”

“What, are you tired? You can go ahead and sleep, I just want to sit with you for a little bit.” He moved closer until your noses almost touched. His whispers turn into soft spoken words. “Some pests have been running around causing trouble lately. They’re sneaky and give me a little bit of a headache. That’s why I haven't been able to come and see you lately. I still need to go back to work, so it will only be for a moment. Is that alright?”

You didn’t answer, running possible excuses for him to leave as soon as possible. While he waited for your answer, something seemed to come to mind. He moved back a fraction and tilted his head to the side, curiosity in his gaze.

“You opened the door quite fast. You weren’t asleep yet?” Whatever look you gave him was enough for him to know the answer to that. He laughed quietly and straightened back up, “Are you misbehaving, kitten?”

Deciding the most efficient way to deal with Sylus was to tell him to get the hell out of there, you opened your mouth to tell him off. He would always listen to you if he saw true displeasure in your expression.

In that instant, a voice came from behind your back.

“Is everything alright?” Zayne’s tone was calm, but also somehow worried and vigilant to your ears.

At the sound of the voice, Sylus’ smile dropped. Red lights swarmed in his pupils, turning to the deepest crimson, as black as blood when you gash out an important artery.

“Who is that?” His tone was sharp as knives. Games aside, he didn’t care about keeping his words a whisper anymore.

“I…”

“Are you asking about me?” Zayne’s calm tone turned into stone.

Sylus’ gaze twitched when he heard it again. His eyes clocked on you, almost threatening. He studied you, running his eyes over you from the tip of your toes to your face, looking for something. You tensed under his scrutiny, wondering why it made you feel so vulnerable. This was the hard gaze Sylus would use with the people he considered rats tampering with his trash and ruining his sidewalk. You weren’t used to those eyes looking down on you.

“Did I interrupt something?”

“If it was the noise that bothered you, we apologize for the inconvenience. We will stay quiet from now on, we were setting on to sleep.” Sylus’ attention moved over your head as if trying to see through the door to the person on the other side. “We can talk about this more in the morning if you’d like.” When Zayne finished his statement, Sylus’ slowly moved back to look you in the eyes. There was a lingering note of danger when he repeated Zayne’s words to you.

“...The noise?”

It was as if the cat had eaten your tongue. Sylus didn’t look alright. The sight of it made your brain immediately try to recall the spare gun hiding in a drawer in the kitchen.

A hand wrapped around your arm and pushed you away from the door.

—

Zayne brushed his teeth with his eyes passively staring at his reflection on the mirror over the sink. Your voice came loud from the end of the hall through the opened bathroom door. His expression remained stoic while listening to you talk some nonsense about waiting to share the bed with him from the living room. He deemed for every word of yours to get in one ear and out the next.

Rather than pay attention to your rumbling, he moved his gaze around over your creams and trinkles next to the tap and over the shelves on the side. Your towels hung on the walls, and the tiles on the floor showed small details coloured in gold.

Your soap scented the room, the air clean, light and sweet.

His eyes returned to his double in the mirror. The hoodie you handed him had gone from black to gray from washing, and the sweat pants had a hole on one side over one of the seams. He felt the softness of the worn down fabric and the scent of the softener in your clothes.

“I don’t know why this is such a big deal for y—”

The doorbell rang. His body flinched, his shoulders jumped sending his hand a little too far into his mouth, almost stabbing his throat with the toothbrush. You cursed between your teeth, the sound softened by the distance.

He frowned. He turned his head around, over the pile of neatly folded clothes lay his watch. He reached for it with his fingers and shifted it his way to look at the dial. Two past seven in the morning. Who in their right mind rings into someone’s house at this hour in the middle of the night?

“Who rings someone’s doorbell at two in the morning?” You asked from the living room.

Zayne put down the brush and held a hand to his neck, coughing lightly to get rid of the sting of pain at the back of his throat. He ran his fingers through his hair, regained some composure and washed the frown from his face.

He went on to turn on the tap as he answered,

“Probably some kids playing around.”

He let the water run to wash as best as he could at the lack of a shower. He blindly reached his hand for a towel and got the water away from his eyes. There was still a lingering line of annoyance at whoever had almost made him choke.

The smell of you on the towel took over his system again and his mind railed back to the thoughts he had been fighting and the alarming sensation of a fluttery feeling over his heart. The echo of your words from earlier and the feeling of your body pressing against his arm flooded him again.

He pressed his heart over the fluff of the towel and closed his eyes.

The sensation of heart palpitations might just be early signs of arrhythmia.

He uncovered his face and sighed. Putting the towel away, he moved his pile of clothes over the lid of the laundry basket and walked towards the hall and into the kitchen

“Seriously, that’s just annoying. I don’t see how this would be entertaining for anyone.” You said while leaning forward with your fits on your waist and annoyance clear in your tone. He could imagine your face scrunched up and the pout in your lips and he couldn’t help the smile that escaped him.

“You can’t take a joke?” He said, stepping into the kitchen door.

“Oh, shut up.” You snapped back and his smile grew wider. He moved to look through the cabinets over the counter. The uneven sets of plates and glasses spoke of your habit of hoarding all types of stuff that called your attention for either being ‘cute’ or colorful. He was looking for a pair of glasses that wouldn’t be embarrassing to drink from while you mumbled under your breath to the camera next to the front door.

You were still so vivid at this hour of the night, singing and dancing and cursing so freely. It made him wonder about your sleep schedule and if you were lying during your check ups about getting proper rest. He was about to make a comment about it when the sound of knocking on the door startled him again.

His hands freezed over one of the glasses, almost making it fall out of the cabinet and into the floor. He heard you hold back a scream and his body tensed.

“What was that?” He asked.

“I– A neighbor?” Your voice sounded as if you were trying to reassure yourself. However the idea made sense. Your vividness had come back to bite you. The scandal had been quite a deal. Maybe it would teach you about not having to stay so late at night in the future.

“I told you they would complain.”

You bikered with him and he enjoyed it. He was usually so inclined to mind his own business and stay quiet since he never had the patience for conflict, but since you two came back to be together he had discovered how entertaining it was to tease you.

He heard the door being unlocked and seconds later yet another scream, “Sylus?!”

Zayne turned to look over his shoulder, listening attentively. The name didn’t sound familiar to him, but your tone let clear you knew who they were. A man’s voice answered, dulled by the distance, but he sounded calm.

After your initial reaction the conversation turned quiet. Since you seemed to know him and there was no other striking reaction after your initial surprise, he felt he should be inclined to think that everything was fine. However, he couldn’t shake the wary feeling on his chest.

He put two glasses over the counter and filled them with water. Your conversation was a steady murmur he couldn’t properly pull apart. And when the buzzing of the refrigerator engine rose, he felt the urge to get closer to the kitchen door to try to catch on any word he could.

You were hunching forward with your head picking out the hall through a small opening in between the door and its frame. You held into the doorknob with white knuckles and your shoulders were tense like wire.

The light sense of instinctive wariness turned into something sharper. Then, he heard a chuckle.

A male’s voice, husky and oddly cheery, came from the other side, making the hair at the end of his neck stand on end and his gut kicked with a warning.

He walked slowly from behind you. All he could hear were the desperation in your whispers talking to the person behind the door.

“Is everything all right?”

There was a beat of silence, and all the cheerfulness had been washed away from the voice when the man. The voice was stone cold when he lashed his next question at you,

“Who is that?”

What kind of questions was that?

“Are you asking about me?” He intervened before you could give this man any type of answer.

Another beat of silence, and there was a layer of threat in the man’s voice when he said his next line.

“Did I interrupt something?”

“If it was the noise that bothered you, we apologize for the inconvenience. We will stay quiet from now on, we were setting on to sleep. We can talk about this more in the morning if you’d like.” This wasn’t a situation he wanted to muse over. You had gone completely still at the door. Zayne couldn’t figure out what kind of person this would be for you to not lash out at them by the tone he was using. He walked in strides towards the door, and he had extended his arm to pull you away by the time he heard the next question.

—

“...The noise?”

Sylus saw you disappear inside the apartment and a second later a tall figure positioned itself in front of him at the door.

He licked the sharp edge of his teeth, taking one deep breath to clear the rampage that had been set on his mind. He wanted to keep steady and not act in a rush. Who would have thought that you were actually out there being naughty while he was retained by the lame games of a sneaky dirty gang.

Sylus’ eyes were set on the man’s chest at the door since he was way taller than you. And when he felt like he had a hold of his temper again, he slowly slid them up to see the man’s face. What he found there made the last of his temper untwine and his posture relaxed. He couldn’t help but arch one of his brows with curiosity.

The doctor.

Sharp jaw, black hair, green eyes, constipated expression. It was a face he could recognize easily since he had got to see it too often in pictures and files Luke and Kieran collected for him. Someone many would call a prodigy. A cardiac surgeon at Akso Hospital, well known and respected by both his teachers and pairs. Level-headed, serious, pragmatic.

And a wimp.

Sylus’ irritability washed away from his eyes and his gaze recovered the glint of amusement.

Granted, this was the first time he met the Doctor in person, but he had seen enough of him to feel like they were old acquaintances. To Sylus’ eyes the cold expressions were nothing but a façade. It might be something that spooked others away from looking for too long in his direction, but to someone like him that wasn’t a barrier of any type. The man was actually a lot more transparent than one might feel.

Kieran had quite the hand for photography, and enjoyed capturing good images with feeling. Sylus had seen a significant amount of pictures of the shy side glance looks the Doctor sent your way when you weren’t looking. His feelings for you were clear as day, and by the light in his eyes, Sylus could tell it was an old type of love.

When he learned you and the Doctor had met when you were children the look made even more sense. It also gave Sylus some reassurance. To him it was obvious: Doctor here had a childhood crush that had rutted too deep into his heart, and after holding it in for so many years, and giving his shy personality, he was probably never going to confess in his lifetime out of the possibility of you saying no.

“We were too enthusiastic about our movie night earlier. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I presume we all have work tomorrow. It would be better to discuss this at some other time.”

With context about who your visitor was, it was clear to him that he had nothing to worry about.

The Doctor’s eyes set on Sylus and discreetly looked him up and down. Should he have known he would come to meet your childhood friend he would have chosen some better clothes. He moved his hand to cover a strain in his shirt from the altercation from earlier with his jacket. A virtuous fellow like him would certainly disapprove of his attitude, and Sylus had always considered first impressions to be very important.

The contempt in the Doctor's eyes didn’t stroke him as a surprise. What a shame, Sylus sighed. He always thought that if he played his cards well he and the Doctor could strike up a good friendship since they were both smart men and shared very similar… taste.

Sylus took a second to assess the situation. From behind the Doctor’s back, you slide him a warning glance. The poison in your eyes made his heart flutter like a teen with his first crush. Biting back a smile, he decided to show some mercy just this one time. The Doctor was not wrong, it was pretty late at night and you should take some rest now.

Leaving your eyes he moved to look straight at the doctor’. With a motion he knew his type would dislike, he lifted up his chin and looked at him from above.

“Well, I’m glad you are aware of your mistake.” His eyes deflected to you so the Doctor would catch it. “My neighbor here was too stubborn to admit it.” The Doctor’ nails pressed against the wood of the frame.

Upon closer inspection, Sylus noticed the virtuous doctor’s clothes and the way his pants barely covered his shin. Well, he had never been offered clean clothes when he stayed at your house. Favoritism games were not fun, dear.

By his expression, Syrus feared the good doctor might decide to start throwing punches. As fun as it could be to help him start a criminal record of his own, he was sure you would scold him for it. So he decided to cut the conversation short.

“Fine. I am tired myself.” He turned on his heels and looked over his shoulder to throw you a wink. “I will discuss this with my neighbor some other day, when we have both cooled down.”

If the man had a reaction, Sylus decided to miss it. The only thing that got to his ear was a muffled sound and your voice whispering the Doctor’s name.

The apartment door closed behind him with a click. He could only imagine the Doctor’s questions for you if he even dared to pronounce them.

His phone ding with an incoming message and he pulled it out of his pocket. Kieran had updates on the gangster’s location and urged him to go back to work. With a heavy sight he stepped down the hall into the elevator. The night hadn’t gone as he had planned it too, but he got to see you at the very least.

He still wasn’t worried about the doctor’s slender, well taken care of fingers and where they might try to stick to, but just in case, because he was a cautious man, he pondered if he should send Mephisto to make sure you didn’t get yourself into any trouble.

#lads sylus #lads zayne #lads #love and deepspace #sylus #zayne #x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #🍰 short fic

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