#my confliction knows no bounds

[auntieclimactic]

Which is the greater sin? Adding yet ANOTHER chapter to my UtBoH fic--which, I remind you, was supposed to be a one shot--or dropping a 17K final chapter when the other chapters have been 9K?

Pls help. After 25K of pining, the smut has finally arrived, and it cannot be contained. 

[haunted-xander]

Another Hajime POV komahina comic bc they make me so insane

[thefunniestguy]

had a thought about the most recent chapter. i don't Think changing the past would mean mitsuba lives (or whether or not kou and yashiro will remember) but like. imagine

[taxed-up-trotter]

Bonus panel + info dumping

i was gonna render this today but then i remembered i have finales tomorrow but i really wanted to post this today and then it hit me that i am bound by no rules and i can post whatever i want, finished or not JHJKHDSF (i will probably come back later tomorrow to finish this though)

OK SO ANYWAYS this is my first time posting anything story related about my hanahaki + amnesia au so lemme introduce it to you :P

So in this au lamb chose to give up the crown for narinders freedom, however he isnt happy about this, he knows he should but all he feels is guilt and the 2 got into a conflict of "This isnt right, i dont want you to sacrifice your life for me." and "My life is not worth your freedom."

long story short they both came to an agreement (to the cats dismay) and narinder guided the lamb to the afterlife, EXCEPT this isnt really the afterlife, but its sort of like purgatory, lamb cant rest yet cause they still have unresolved feelings for narinder so they had the option to either accept it, leaving them to the actual after life or deny it, leaving them to reincarnate. lamb ofc chose the latter

They wake up centuries later in an unknown place with their memories wiped out not too long after they stubled upon a graveyard of some sorts and found a cat holding a bouquet while standing next to a grave labelled "lambert"

lamb asked where they are and after a bit of shellshock from narinder he finally responded the 2 quickly became acquainted (though he doesnt tell lamb abt his true identity) w/ each other, narinder offers lamb a place to stay

JSHDKFD thats all i could tell u in this post for now, im not used to info dumping myself so im sorry if tis sounds confusing HDSF

[exuvianen]

dating hc's with dr. ratio, aventurine + blade!

headcanons about what these hsr men do in a relationship witth you <3

cw: x reader, gn! reader (no physical descriptions), mostly fluff, sfw, headcanon style

notes: hsr brainrot… ahahaha... i hope i have a fairly good grasp on these characters and wrote them well. 

wc: ~1050 words, around 350 words per character. all under the cut!

feel free to drop an ask or to add on to my thoughts! likes + rbs are appreciated  <3

✎ Dr. Ratio:

He likes parallel play, or being alone together with you. He works on his own projects, like grading papers or writing a new thesis while you’re doing your own thing, like playing video games or reading. Occasionally, he might ask you for your input, such as ideas about his next thesis or what pose he should sculpt himself into next. 

He has a spare desk and chair for you in his office. You can choose to do work or entertain yourself there when you visit him and he’s still teaching a lecture, but feel free to take a nap on the plush sofa he bought just for you. 

He will nag you about your health but in an annoyingly endearing way. He fusses over you, telling you about appropriate attire for today’s weather, offering you an umbrella, and reminding you to drink water. 

He entertains all your ideas, no matter how silly or illogical. He’ll hear you out on anything you say, though he might have some very strong disagreements or objections to your ideas, especially if they are silly or completely nonsensical. However, he never turns you away when you bound up to him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes - he just sighs and prepares himself mentally to hear whatever goofiness comes out of your mouth. 

He’s your biggest cheerleader, supporter, and advocate. Though he may come off as intimidating, he is always willing to help advance your career or work. He has many connections and vast knowledge of the universe after all - why not utilize them for his beloved? 

He’s very good at dispelling any irrational thoughts in your head. If you’re panicking and your mind is disoriented, he’ll sit next to you and hold your hand gently, but firmly to ground you. He doesn’t speak at all when you vent out all your frustration, confusion, or anger - rather, he’s silently contemplative and then asks questions when you finish talking. He’ll indirectly guide you to a solution while gently calming you down as he dispels those pesky thoughts from your head.

He makes a custom alabaster head for you. 

♤ Aventurine:

A big fan of matching accessories and clothing. You don’t need to wear the exact same outfit, but he likes wearing complementary colors and jewelry to yours.

If you’d like, he’d be more than happy to bring you to casinos and public events with him. He wants to show off to you and let you witness his wit, talent, and skill like a peacock presenting its colorful feathers. 

He likes it a lot when you trace his skin through the spade-shaped hole in his outfit.

He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, but he likes being around you. This creates conflicting emotions inside of him. Oftentimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with it and just lurks by you. Pull him into a hug to quiet the voices in his head. 

He will send you packages or luxury items from the planets he’s visiting. You’ll be greeting a disgruntled Topaz or IPC soldiers at your door as they hand you various gifts ranging from limited-edition jewelry to flowers that bloom only once every 200 amber eras. He gifts extremely grand things, but he always knows how to find things that suit your tastes.

He’s a big spender on you. If you’re unused to the amount of money he’s willing to throw at you, he’s going to give you a lot of “exposure therapy” with his generosity. He’ll invite you to private auctions, lavish galas, luxury boutiques, and high-end jewelry stores. He’ll start filling your wardrobe with tailor-made clothes with the excuse that you should match his outfits when you attend formal events together, but his clothing contributions eventually infiltrate your closet pretty deeply. 

He enjoys being pampered and pampering you. Self-care nights are a must - as a representative of the IPC and one of the ten Stonehearts, he has to keep himself presentable and looking sharp, and that goes for his partner too! He’s more than happy to spend money to fund your trips to the salon or buy you any beauty products to use at home. He’d love to put on face masks together and share a drink or two with you. 

☠︎︎ Blade:

If you want to, and Elio’s script permits, he will bring you along on missions to safer planets. He’ll drop you off at a commercial district - feel free to go shopping or try out some novelty food while he wraps up his Stellaron Hunter business.

He likes getting his hair brushed. One of his favorite activities is sitting down and letting you comb through his hair after he cleans up from a mission. It’s an activity that leaves him vulnerable, but he doesn’t mind if it’s with you.

He’s an acts of service kind of guy. He moves to take your bags before you even say anything, holds open doors, and pulls out chairs for you. Brings you a cup of water and some fruit when you’ve been working for too long, and silently drapes his jacket over you when you shiver.

Tell him you like a certain pastry and he’ll show up every day and bring some. Show him a picture of a pretty flower and he’s boarding a spaceship to bring the flower to you personally. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it.

He’s pretty quiet, but he’ll remember everything you say, what your preferences are, and what you like. He secretly writes it down in case his memory gets murky, and he’ll often reread his notes to remind himself.

He gives simple but traditional gifts to you, such as jade bracelets and pendants, and combs and hairpins if you have longer hair to wear or use them.*

He’ll treasure anything you gift to him. If you make an accessory for him, he wears it at all times. If your gift is small enough, he’ll stow it safely in his pockets and take it everywhere with him.

If family is important to you, he’ll send funds their way and ensure that they’re taken care of. 

As someone who’s often dead and then undead, his body can get stiff. He’ll enjoy it immensely if you massage him, and accompany him for his daily stretches and calisthenics. Even if you just hold him for a while, he finds that his muscles will relax from the warmth emitting from your body. Therefore, he quite appreciates having you physically near him.

* Combs, hairpins, Jade bracelets, and pendants were given as tokens of love and affection in Ancient China. These gifts have a deeper meaning/symbolism, but for the sake of post length, I did not write them all out. 

[onlyswan]

i’m back to give you my iw!couple brain rot 🤲, please handle with care.

but !! imagine jungkook and oc doing that “see how long we can go without kissing” challenge !! how would fold first? they’re both so competitive but smitten it makes me conflicted. 😣😣

knowing them, jungkook would be twitching his eye just from the thought of being deprived kissies so would oc give in first to let him win? or would jungkook just take what’s his?? 🤔

imagine oc being a blushing mess from staring at jungkook’s face for too long 😵‍💫 THEYRE SO CUTE I CANT THINK STRAIGHT😭🫶

summary: in which jungkook is twenty-six years old and yet… you still give him butterflies.

idol!jk x reader, established relationship / word count: 0.7k

content/warnings: sexual tension, making out, it’s honestly just them fighting over who gets to be on top

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe hi anonie… sorry… i kindaaa got carried away… i had to write out the thing or else i would’ve gone insane just talking about it <3 (written with love and care) <3

—

“i don’t understand this challenge.”

“me neither,”

jungkook remains in a hypnotic-like trance, doe eyes trained to your lips stained with a lighter shade of mixed red and brown.

“we’re this close and we can’t kiss…? this is absurd.”

“do they actually do this in bed? with someone on top?” you chuckle as you coyly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. “i don’t think so?”

“i don’t know. i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he teasingly brushes his nose against yours, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended. “since, you know, we’ll be here a while.”

“oh wow. bringing me to bed, really? you’re that confident?”

he cockily raises an eyebrow. “hm, we both know you won’t be able to resist me here. you’re all over me all the time.”

you try not to roll your eyes in annoyance. and you also both know that you’re just as competitive, if not more.

“oh my god, you,” you mumble. the calm of your voice contrasts the aggressive push of your hand against your boyfriend’s naked chest. “and your stupid arrogance and your stupid need to flaunt your stupid hot body.”

in the blink of an eye, jungkook finds you stradding him, and himself, trapped underneath your body. he blinks in disbelief, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“this is dirty.”

you remove his glasses, moving it aside without care. “that’s just your mind.”

okay, perhaps bringing you to bed was a bad idea.

you lean down, slowly, close and then closer— it’s quite ridiculous that he’s nervous as if he doesn’t know what is bound to happen next: he’s thoroughly convinced that you’re going to kiss him.

once he feels your lips ghost over his, mere millimeters away, his eyelids flutter shut.

terrible idea. terrible.

the kiss, much to his disappointment, never happens.

he opens his eyes and your face is suddenly tucked in the space between his neck and shoulders, giggling and shaking and positively amused.

he turns away and squeezes his eyes shut. a painful admit of defeat against your infinite allure. “ah, i’m fucked.”

“we’ll get there later,” you lift your head, tilting his chin to face you.

you smile and scoot closer. so close that your bottom lips grazes his. he fails to remember the last time the two of you touched as chastely, as softly, but it felt like accidentally touching a live wire. he gets a funny feeling in his stomach. butterflies…? he’s twenty-six years old. he must be losing his mind.

“after you lose.”

“that’s not happening, baby.”

“yes, it will.”

“i won’t give up so easily.”

you give him an innocent look. “but i really think you will.”

you stare at each other for a little while, anticipating the other’s next move.

“fuck- yeah, okay-” he grits his teeth, taking advantage of his strength to finally flip back your positions. you’ve had your fun. “you’re right.”

“babe! ru-”

your surprised gasp is cut off by jungkook’s lips crashing on yours— curved into a smirk, you can feel it. your whines are muffled and swallowed by him, wrists caught in his hands and over your head because you were hitting his shoulder and he just wanted to kiss his baby properly.

“you lost,” you remark quietly when he draws back, only inches away, to scatter kisses along your face and down to your neck.

it tickles, you squirm in pleasure when he reaches near your collarbone, but your hands are still tied.

you were supposed to have him underneath you as a hot and flustered mess, not the other way around. damn it.

“really?” he feigns interest, lips finding their way back to yours. “doesn’t feel like it.”

[qvrcll]

Warnings: mentions of political marriages, strangers > friends > lovers, kissing near towards the end, mentat at mind, lover boy at heart

The ordeal is simple — at-least on paper. You and Paul are meant to be wed on the single promise of a shared goal between the two of your houses, which come down to one thing and one thing only: security. Wealth, power and standing do not surmount to what, in Leto’s words, the Emperor has planned for the futility of house Atreides. He knows, Thufir knows, everyone knows, that Arrakis wasn’t branded to be some sweetly wrapped gift that fell into his lap when the time came to reward the duke. No - matters of this sort were much too systematic, especially at a scale such as this. Something must be done, to solidify the house of Atreides upon the rain-swept expanse of Caladan. Something to bind the Atreides to their mother planet long enough, so there might not be strife or conflict that sharpens whatever blade is held against them. So, wed Paul you must.

Simple doesn’t translate so easily against the obscurity that is the real world.

In the real world, the two of you are mere strangers. The only thing that binds the two of you is the responsibility bourne from the insignias that you wear, that are soon to culminate as two adjoining houses; whilst his happen to be two thick lines of silver against his collar, yours take on a different shape, a strange alterity between curves and striking lines, and shot through with gold against the sleeve of your garments. There is it — the mere tellings of your differences, as pure as day. He wonders how the symbols will look like, meshed together and serving as one. He wonders how he will appear next to you - frail boy or able man?

Half of the time, you catch his eye simply because you are there, sitting duly next to your father and ascertaining the weight of such a marriage past paper, when all is said and done. Other times, you are a blurring fragment in the hallways, swathed in your house’s colours and too fleeting to get a hold on, sometimes even flanked by your house’s livery. Mere strangers, he reminds the indiscernible feeling in his chest.

-

“Where is your head at? Focus!” Gurney growls out, more harsh tempered than his usual mood, as he crouches and takes Paul’s fair strike for what it was - a clean swipe that was meant for his chest, which now deflects smoothly off of the older, more haggard man’s shield, and sets the room abuzz with vibrations. And so the smell of ozone worsens, Paul calculates in his head, as he shakes his head thoroughly and shifts his grip on his weapon. Gurney isn’t impressed — not in the way he usually is. Paul knows he must answer.

“This is me focusing,” Paul offers, and doesn’t grit his teeth or possess a sudden candour with his strikes because he respects Gurney. But he cannot help the mood that has blanched him - voids, how he wishes he could confess those words, verbatim, to the older man who currently encircles his passes like a seasoned ring-fighter. But the word ‘mood’ had gotten him in line last week, when Gurney had simply upped his antics with the mere mention of it, “I’m just out of breath.”

“No, you’re not.” Gurney smiles, clenching his palm around the ragged hilt of the Kindjal. He knows, Paul thinks bitterly.

“No, I’m not.” Paul confesses. He tests a low swoop of his dagger - ill-advised - and reigns his laugh in when it catches Gurney off his feet, his back staggering against the training table.

Let’s see how you like this, lad, Gurney formalises in his mind, as he presses his defence like a bull and keeps his attacks slow and pulsing through the air, blinding all of Paul’s spots, “Is it the marriage?”

Cornered for tactics, and focusing mostly on not getting cleaved to pieces during training, Paul scoffs, “Of course it’s the marriage.”

“You’re scared.”

At this, Paul counters metal with metal, bounding back when it rings against his ears, rings against the room, “I’m not scared. I’m prepared to fulfil my duty, even if I am given options,” a dull parry, which still creates momentum, and thus space, between the two men, “I’m only uneasy because I’ve never actually met her.”

“You have. Several times. Or have you been asleep throughout your father’s meetings?”

Paul stresses a firm strike against Gurney, which repels off of his own shield by how close the dagger strikes the space between them. But he’s good at catching himself. Gurney, unused to Paul’s strange and newly learnt manoeuvres, falls short. He tries to counter, but cannot, but he is most impressed for it.

“Concede.” Paul breathes, low and attempting a threatening veil, as Gurney’s back meets the floor. The old man grunts, before nodding deftly as Paul hauls him to his feet with one palm alone. They settle in different corners of the room, silence beseeching both of them suddenly - they’re not two men for silence, but in Gurney’s head, Paul is undergoing a strange part of his life. He wonders if Paul fears it in the night.

Paul interjects Gurney’s thoughts.

“Do you - have you… met her?” his voice is meek. Uncharacteristic. Gurney smirks.

“Once or twice, in the hallways.”

“And? How is she?”

Gurney laughs. The boy is eager today.

-

The next time I see her, I will speak, he promises.

Better said than done. With no similar companions his age - a course of action being the very result of his heritage, his mother reminds him - he truly doesn’t know how to properly seek you out. You are more shadow than friend, more idea than person, and the more he sees you, the more he forgets.

“Something on your mind?” Duncan nudges him with the edge of some Fremen equipment, that bothers him well enough to dredge out Paul’s concerns. Not that he needs to. It is written on his face.

“Yes,” Paul confesses, readjusting for comfort, “It’s about my marriage.”

“You speak as though you will marry tomorrow. It is not set it stone. Not yet.”

Paul scoffs, “I know that. I just haven’t met her yet. And I want to.”

Duncan, in the midst of polishing some hardware and solar devices, that smell quite faintly of hot sand and the sun, pauses to glance away from Paul’s face. When his gaze returns, it is almost teasing, a smirk ripping across his face, “You’re in luck today.”

“What?” Paul swivels and —

Oh. Oh.

You’re standing there. Hands clasped behind your back, yes. Stoic, assessing expression, yes. Clothed in rich colours of your house, as you always are in his passing vision - only this time, it is a green so deep that it comes across as black. Suddenly, realising that you have been found out by not only Duncan Idaho, but by the Duke’s son himself, you uncharacteristically let slip your own embarrassment through wide eyes.

“Oh. My apologies — I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude. I was just curious by the - er - gadgets.” you fumble for words at a rate that would be comical if not for the morbid embarrassment seizing you by the seconds. You’re shaking your head politely, smile strained and legs rooted where they are and ready to melt into the various corridors - back to your own duties, you assume. Away from company. Paul, however, stands linearly and full of purpose, face constructed of hard lines that all smile at you.

“No, please. Join us,” his voice is smooth - you’ve never heard him talk, even around those board room meetings - and his hand is extended to gesture within the space, “I insist.”

Duncan raises a brow in amusement and Paul wants to tamp his feet down with a neat blow. That pulls a chortle out of the man, which only further startles you. Paul invites you cordially to take a seat, where you fit awkwardly, like you were truly imposing. However, in a manner of minutes, that is all erased when Duncan lets the two of you weigh the objects in your hand – sand compactor, weapons, stinted devices that were far too aged to be still of use but gathering attention nonetheless. When Paul passes it to you, he feels your soft fingers pass underneath his own, where a warm feeling curdles as an afterthought.

“This—is a sand compactor?” you ask warily, tilting the device as though it would spring up on you and dissolve to bits. Duncan barks out a laugh.

“For sand compacting, yes.” he humours you. You, however, are too lost on the object, still swirling it around in your palms; eyes peeled downwards.

“Yes. I see.” you reply.

The two men dissolve into a fit of laughter. You look up, eyes helplessly trailing from one to the next. The day is easy.

-

Paul is thankful for the event, and so are you. It doesn’t solve all his problems, and his head is always probing with inquiries and worries, but he can count on the off chance of seeing you in the hallways. He can count on the fact that you will pause, meet his eyes and smile.

You’re walking the countless hallways of the estate - Caladan had so much water to offer, but no one on your native planet ever mentioned the striking architecture, the hollowed out walls and think-pieces painted across rooms. High domed ceilings, with absolutely nothing to offer but soft light. Some rooms contained scintillating glass, chairs of different shapes and mediums, tables too big for just a few affairs. Others were bound shut, but that didn’t discourage nor intimidate you, nor your entourage.

On one such day, you’re caught in your explorations by none other than the Atreides heir.

In actuality, it is you who catches him first, stood perfectly still at the end of the corridor and holding a terse expression. When he spots you, his shoulders relax and he manages to blink once, before his mouth opens underneath the realisation that you were really here.

“Hello.” his voice is strong, and carries well.

That was awkward. This is always awkward. He curses himself.

You smile, and it swipes at the ground beneath his feet, “I didn’t expect to see you here.

“This is my residence, yes?” more jest than anything else. You snort.

“I am aware. Your residence is quite beautiful. I like to wander,” you say, finding yourself fixing a meandering pace beside him, and he smiles softly when he realises that he, too, steps beside you at a similar speed, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. Never.”

It is quick work after that – by pure coincidence, that you joke to Paul that is it is methodical instincts and ground-work as a mentat that he is able to summon himself almost anywhere you are present from that point onwards, you two bump into each other more and more in the corridors, and from there, it extends to the rather large library, the training space with Gurney skirting its edges, the ever-blossoming gardens even, which held more water than shrubbery in retrospect. Meetings pertaining to your marriage held an element of amusement now, as Paul actually tries to catch your eye this time, drumming his lithe and smooth fingers against the table in a way that could’ve passed off as a wandering of his mind as his father droned on about security measures and fuel caps, but you notice.

You hadn’t, not before, but you did now. To his pleasure, you even respond in a tiny flickering of fingers against the age-old meeting table, the vibrations a blur against his obvious contentment.

-

“You look glad.” Gurney comments and Paul realises how uninvolved his attention had been on the room before him. He quickly assesses it and whatever lays within it; table, check. Light source, check. Scratchy walls, check. Gurney’s ever-gracing height, check.

When had his habits, trained and chained to duty, begun to sweep towards you?

“Do I?” Paul asks, keeping his voice as still as he can manage. He had swiped at his face to rid the itch off his brow, but he unwittingly catches how warm he is. Not uncomfortable, no. But enough to leave a mark on his consciousness. It was like he was simply losing grip on his own composure when he thought of… something. It was still fleeting in his own mind.

He is too afraid to retrace his steps and find a familiar pair of eyes staring at him in the recesses of it.

Gurney slaps a hand on Paul’s shoulder, seemingly articulate with the latter’s feelings. Old man, Paul would curse out in jest, but he merely smiles. It is strained, and strange. Paul never puts an effort into his smiles, Gurney notes.

“Something is on your mind.” Gurney clicks his tongue.

Paul blinks, swallows, “Something is on my mind.”

“Out with it.”

Paul hesitates, which is strange, because in all his fights he is the first to stoke the flame. He isn’t vengeful – at-least, he doesn’t think he is – that’s why his strikes lack a hunger for blood and instead, settle for calculation. Briefness. No means to an end just yet. Or ever, he thinks.

But with you, it’s different. That’s what he spits out, what he lets Gurney work with. How you were a supposed intrusion into his life – something he had assumed would be awkward, like a stab wound that had scabbed over and began to weakly throb in pain, always to remind itself of its own compromise to work around demise. He thought you would be that; but upon meeting you, you were anything but that. You were curious and brilliant in your own way – similar to him, yet miles apart so that you were the form of a friend he had always wished for in his youth. You talked about your interests and spent double your time inquiring about his. When your hands brushed, his own grew clammy – that’s the strangest one of them all, Gurney – And something was blossoming – was it friendship? Was it trust? Was it fear?

What was this spattering and gooey mess slipping over the swell of his heart whenever you appeared? What was it?

He talks and talks and talks until Gurney squeezes his palm over Paul’s shoulder in a way an uncle would do to his nephew who he might want to reassure. Or a brother would to his youngest companion, as if to say: I see you. I hear what you say.

“Sounds to me like there’s an awful lot of trust between the two of you,” Gurney clicks his tongue again, only this time, Paul scoffs. Ah, there he is – there is the Paul Atreides I know, Gurney smiles, “And something else too.”

“What is it?” Paul asks. His eyes are curious, brows furrowed. Gurney holds down the laugh building in his chest, and the emboldened words in red: you’re falling in love with this friend of yours, boy, and instead, pats him on the shoulder.

“Piece of advice, if you’ll heed to anything I say,” Paul straightens with attention, “Let the truth flow. Do not stop it. Do not push it back. To live with the truth, you must learn its ways and be one with it.”

That night, Paul walks back to his room with the truth beneath his skin, and listens to his own heartbeat against his pillow. The rest of him warms with the realisation of, oh, oh, oh.

-

The next time you see Paul, you think you’d done something to offend him. Or bore him. Or something other.

It had become a pleasant habit; meeting him at the Caladan gardens, opting for a spot and sitting with your backs to the grass, counting the stars as you talked. Before, conversation had tipped forth whenever. Now, there was something in the air – tension. And it is him that brings it.

Paul avoids your eyes, settling instead for the vast colouring of grey across the hallway walls whenever he caught you in it. He had stopped sending you the familiar drumming of his fingertips across the meeting table, and instead always froze up when you met his gaze, whereby he turned red with anger – or was it anger? What was it?

He’d always be staring at your face, and you would wonder if there was a piece of parchment stuck to it, or if he was merely bored around you; most days, you allowed it. It stung, yes, but you had nothing ill to hold against him. But it accumulated, unbeknownst to you, and for him to miss your question yet again made you sigh in defeat – disappointment?

“You seem distracted,” you say, not bothering to shield the hurt in your words, though you couldn’t begin to understand why and when you had ever begun to crave expect the attention of his earthen-dusted eyes, “Am I boring you?”

He straightens up, his eyes wide, which in turn surprises you, “Bored? Seven hells, no. ‘Course not.”

“What did I just ask then?”

He cringes, “I promise I’m not bored. Just…”

His fingers flex in his lap, before curling into themselves, and his cheeks warm slightly. Is it happening now? Is he doing it now? The weather was right; a typical Caladan breeze, heavy with the wetting of the sky from the day, and now shrouded with clouds and a darkness that was impenetrable. Even as the two of you laid against the bare grass, no one outside could tell either of you apart from the ground itself. In the moonlight, you were almost one with it.

“Just?” you ask. You were curious of this now, “Just what?”

“Just!” he sucks in a harsh breath, his sharp face now boyishly soft and pliant in a way you hadn’t seen it before, “I… Just promise you won’t take offence to this.”

How ironic.

“I promise, Paul,” you smile, shoulder bumping against his as you glance at the side of his face, the way his nose shapes perfectly against the dampness of the Calandan wind, “Tell me.”

Be one with it. Be one with it. It is a mantra in his head.

“I realise that I have begun to grow a certain, uh, affection for you. Yes, I like you. I don’t know how it had begun. And I know it’s foolish of me to even act this way when we are set to marry. But I know, in my heart, that—“ a breath, as he nervously glances at your now surprised face and oh, he shuts his mouth. He opens it again, panicked, “My apologies. I shouldn’t have—let me—”

“Paul.” you stop him, hands against his one arm that seems to be quivering ever so slightly – how much of it can he hold?

He waits. Bated breath.

You smile, shy and sweet and it whips against him in a way that the wind of his mother planet had never managed to. Here is my dear friend, he thinks, my dear friend who was but a stranger a long time ago and is set to marry me once talks have been concluded. Here is my friend who I have poured my stupid, ill heart to and who still looks at me with kindness.

“I like you too.”

He blinks. He looks at you when you speak and watches, really watches, how your mouth forms against the words. I like you too.

“As a companion? Or friend, at best? Is that what your ‘like’ refers to?” he asks, nervous in the face of your admission. It makes you smile, as he rambles slightly, and though his countenance is that of poise and grace, beneath he is a a boy of tender heart. Smiling, you grab the front of his thick coat lapel and watch his words die on his tongue as you place a feathery, warm and soft kiss against his mouth. It was so unbelievable, he thought he’d conjured it all up – that you weren’t here, timidly kissing him with a sheepish smile on your face, and the stars of his home glinting against your skin. He lets his finger brush your cheek, still dumb-struck.

“Again.” he whispers. His heart hammers at the sound of your breathy laugh, as you repeat the action, conviction in your palms as they lay upon his cheek, “Again, please.”

“Again?” you ask, voice soft and muted as he hoists you atop of his front, chest to chest, and gazing at him like he was everything. Within the action, your golden insignia brushes his own, silver ones so briefly that he can make out a shape bourne from the contact of either two, before they separate. You wanted him, as he wanted you. And soon, you would wed, and the image of gold upon silver won’t be so unclear anymore. Maybe, somewhere warmer and less unbelievable, he could let himself grow familiar with the reality of you. But for now, he could settle for this to be a mere dream he had grown to relish so very much. Even now, he could almost believe none of this to be real, just a trick of the mind. Maybe fatigue or delusion.

He says your name so quietly, a plea, and it has never sounded sweeter, “Please.”

And yet, the soft press of your mouth upon his convinces him that it is so much more.

-

i wanted to incorporate some inferences of paul’s character from the early novel (mentat, solitude in terms of companions, great fighter), as well as the film, whilst wanting to stray away from the destruction of house atreides after the gifting of arrakis, which would explain why the marriage needs to take place. sooo no one dies! HURRAH!!!!!!!!! enjoy :]

© 2023 qvrcll. Do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 4)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(requested tags: @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @maliciousmace @nevermorekisses @wildfire153)

(thanks to my amazing editor for helping me with this chapter!! @kruncher mwa mwa! /p)

It's been half a month, and you still aren't sure if you really wanna do this.

Sure you have done your research on spells, blessings, everything to protect yourself and maybe even others while venturing into Hell, possibly even in battle if you felt brave enough.

But nonetheless, it was conflicting. Not only were you going to see your father again but you're going to be literally in hell-- the terrible place was always a tempting topic to bring up in a hushed conversation, though few actually dared to do it. It's the worst place to go to after death, everyone on earth hated speaking of it and mentioning it was somewhat like a bad omen, at least from how you've seen others react to it at certain times.

Why bother diving head first into a realm where none of it’s events or residents were any of your business? The souls are in hell for certain specific reasons, so why bother saving a world that was meant to be the end of the line.

Oh but-- Charlie.

Charlie Morningstar's case and evidence sure intrigued you, but was it really worth the risk? Is it worth the sacrifice, the hiding, the possible dying to try to save a bunch of sinners? All of them, more than likely... are very much similar to, if not the same as, your father.

"Maybe..n-.." you breathed out loud, your hand moving away from under your chin as you were stuck in thought sitting at your desk. You were reluctant, of course you'd be.

You looked down at your bag on the floor beside your desk, filled with supplies and necessities for venturing into hell-- you planned it out but-- was it really.. Do these sinners truly deserve to be saved? Helped?

Why, of course they do.

At the very least.. some of them. 

Those who genuinely want redemption and those who committed sins in which they had no choice before they died or to help others. Those are the ones who should be saved.

And from what you learned in the court trial exactly half a month ago, you could only imagine how many sinners Adam and his fleet of Exorcists slayed that were genuinely hoping for a better chance at this 'second' life.

Besides-- why not save lives? Even if they weren't worth saving, even if you didn't know them personally or at all. Isn't that why you got into heaven anyway? Because you sacrificed yourself for someone you didn't know in the slightest?

You died for that reason, what's so wrong in doing it a second time?

Besides, souls like that one sinner Charlie showed the court, Angel Dust, could be on the path to light and eternal paradise... you could almost feel it in your bones and you bet Emily did too.

Wait, that's right--

Emily!

You could have almost jumped from your seat, Emily was the key to your path to Hell! But how to get to her-- Sera was always around..

Oh-- No, no, this is too good.

Ever since the court day Emily has been getting a bit more distant from Sera, if you could find Emily alone once without any inclination you were seeking her out then you could do it! Convincing shouldn't be too hard, she feels the same way as you do in a certain way.

You've been so caught up in your plan to escape disguised as an exorcist that you couldn't see the answer right in front of you! All those weeks wasted-- the initial plan was bound to fail anyway no matter the amount of preparation since, according to your research, the exorcist angels were scattered everywhere in their HQ like a beehive swarm; like busy bees buzzing with bloodlust. They seemed to all recognize each other and have specific physical attributes that you lacked immensely, even if you were to try and steal a uniform you really couldn't because-- you didn't know where they kept them inside.

You took in a deep breath in and out, 'I'm definitely not coming back unscathed..' you thought 'but.. everyone deserves a second chance, even sinners. And if they really don't deserve it then might as well save them so that they may continue living out their eternal sentences with no easy way out.'

You then looked towards a corner of your desk, grabbing a small and recent photo you took with someone very dear to you. You smiled softly at it before letting out a gentle huff of confidence and then carefully stuffing that photo in your bag for your trip to hell.

You then grabbed your bag, put it over your shoulder, and carefully walked out of your home.

It was currently early night in heaven, the sky as always was filled with stars that glow immensely so that heaven is never in utter darkness. At this time of the evening everyone was home and getting ready for bed, shops closing, people walking home. Thankfully you've hung around Emily long enough to know that when she's bothered by something, she doesn't go to sleep easily till she can fix it, and from what you knew the extermination in hell was still going to happen. 

Your wings started to gently flap and as quietly as they could they flew you up to the home quarters of Emily and Sera, them owning a taller building than the ordinary 'winner' would have considering their higher statuses.

It wasn't that hard to fly by since there was no need for security or guards, heaven never exactly needed to be protected from the inside.

You made your way around a high up balcony, one that you knew led to Emily's quarters. You noticed the balcony doors closed but light flickered from within; she's in there.

Your feet carefully plopped themselves on the balcony, nervously lifting your hand to knock on it-- still hesitant.

'Do I really want to do this?' 

It was too late to even ask that now, for your hand already knocked on the glass surface of the balcony door, breath hitched-- you awaited an answer.

...

The sound of pitter pattering steps could be heard from the inside as they neared where you were standing, a figure approached you from behind the glass.

Emily!

You smiled and waved at her awkwardly as she looked at you with a mix of shock, joy, and exhaustion. She opened the door to you with anticipation.

"______! How are you!... wait-- what are you doing here? It's late, you should be at home.."

"Look Emily," you said breathlessly due to your anxiety. "There's no easy way to say this but I need a huge favor from you.. bigger than anything I could ever ask for and will ever ask for. Not only that but- I'm sure you'll believe in my cause.."

She hummed in thought, eyes narrowed at you in an attempt to see if she should listen to her head or heart. "I'm listening..."

You then nodded towards the inside of her room, silently asking if you could go inside so no prying ears could hear you, even if it's unlikely. She read the words in your expression as she nodded and welcomed you in, closing the door behind her carefully.

You started whispering, "I need you to teleport me into hell."

Emily's breathing scuffled a bit, absolutely shocked from your request. "Hell??.. but why?.. ______ you nor I have ever been to hell!.. you could get really hurt or worse die..!" she whisper-yelled in concern to one of her best friends.

"Well-- we aren't sure if they can truly kill angels but I've practiced a few spells to try to defend myself. You know I'm a lot faster with my wings and if I find Charlie I'm sure she'll keep me from getting hurt!.."

"Charlie?.." she asked, now fully remembering what happened on that fateful court day "Wait, you want to go to hell to see Charlie?"

You nodded, "I have to, it's the only way I can survive there. Besides, I need to help her.. you know that what Adam and Sera are letting happen is unjust and inhumane.. you and I both know and agree about this and you can help me by sending me down there."

"but.. _____ I--"

"Emily, the extermination is going to happen in less than a month now.. there's no time left to leave this in the air."

"______.. are you even sure you'll survive a second down there? how do you even know you need to be there, if you really want to help you can try and stay up here where it's safe--"

You let out a quick sigh of fear, afraid that she's getting cold feet "C'mon.. even with your influence Adam won't stop and neither has Sera ordered him to pause for even a moment.. Besides, if they need to have sinners show their improvement and actually redeem themselves.. they need someone who actually has been in heaven and knows how to get there. 

They need a role-model, an example, and I'm willing to help and sacrifice myself a second time to at least give other people a second chance at 'living'.

This time, you shut Emily up, she's speechless-- you truly took her breath away with how determined you were. You were right to some extent, help from a 'winner' for sinners, become just like them as a teacher and be an example could genuinely make much improvement and possibly open the case once more. 

She softly smiled at you, a small amount of pride swelling in her chest, pride that she has for you and hope that she has in your mission.

"Well.. I'll take you there but not without one thing--" she stepped closer to you and folded three fingers of her right hand, then crossed you with them in an all too familiar pattern. Right shoulder, left shoulder, forehead, chest. The sign of the Cross. A sudden glow shined from you for a split second as if a star bursted around you,

"A protection spell. To protect you from the strongest blow that encounters itself towards you, it only works once but it's the strongest spell I know that can be an extra safety net for you down there.. meanwhile I'll try my best to convince Sera to think differently about the genocides.."

"Oh.. thank you Ems!.." you hugged her and she hugged back tightly, both of you guys brimming in a flurry of hope, determination, and anxiety. "I won't let you down.. I promise when I come back, and I will, Adam won't need to kill anymore people with his exorcists anymore.."

"Just-- be careful, _____. You're one of a kind, no one helps and brightens things up like you do.." she backed away from the hug only to hold your hands and smile at you, conflicted but convinced by you.

"Promise. I'll be back before you know it."

"Pinky.. promise?" she took out her pinky finger for you to hold onto, to reassure her that she's making the right decision. Helping you.. she doesn't want to lose you by sending you down your death sentence.

"Hehe.. pinky promise." you took out your own pinky finger to wrap it around hers, another spark lighting up around your wrapped fingers as if sealing the deal.

"Good.. once again are you sure you're prepared??.." she couldn't help but ask-- she didn't want to lose her best friend..

"I'm ready to face what I have to face, ready as I'll ever be." you let out a shaky sigh, betraying you slightly.

Emily let out a shaky sigh of her own before stepping back and slowly summoning a portal, it starting from a little glow in the air to slowly trying to mass itself into your height and size so you may go through with ease. It was difficult since it was mostly Sera or Adam opening them with constant ease and she never really had to until now, unfortunately though.. it was starting to make noise.

You hold your bag as tightly as you could, double checking if all the zippers are closed before preparing yourself for the even growing yellow portal.

"I don't know exactly where the Hazbin Hotel is so-- be... be careful _____.."

You looked at her and nodded with confidence, a look of strength emitting from your face. 

There was shuffling from the hallway outside Emily's room, "Emily? What are you doing at this time of the night?" Sera could be heard from afar, her voice loudly echoing across and even through the closed doors. 

Emily sped through her magic as she used as much of her mental strength as she could to open up the portal, it shouldn't be that hard but-- she never had to do this, she never thought she would do this. She was only in charge of keeping you happy-- but if this were to make you happy, then she's obliged to do so.

The portal was finally big enough for you to enter through, both of you hearing loud oncoming steps coming from outside the halls and in a quick motion you waved at Emily with a smile, her doing the same thing before finally-- you jumped into hell.

Right as you disappeared into the yellow and gold void, she let herself go from holding it open and right as Sera was opening the door, without even knocking mind you, the portal disappeared from thin air and all that was left was Emily standing in the middle.

"What are you even doing?.." asked Sera looking puzzled.

Emily chuckled nervously, shrugging her shoulders "Practicing for next show's fireworks..? heh.."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You on the other hand-- were being slammed against a hard metal surface that smelled like rotten flesh and food, dried blood, and other stinky items. Hitting your head against it causes you to groan in pain and slowly hold your head, the smell beside you slowly making you feel a bit sick.

Your halo, clattering to the ground, its glow still present on it.. confirming your status to still be an angel. 

"Fuck.." you mumbled, rubbing the back of your head while picking yourself up from the ground. Looking at your surroundings you were in a sort of alley, the metal surface being a large dumpster. Your wings flapped a bit to stretch them out from the hit you took. 

You look at your halo and feel a huge sigh of relief get out of your mouth, despite knowing that only becoming a fallen could only happen if the court officially banishes you from heaven from all you knew it still felt good to know you're still the same you. Besides, you didn't know if a winner has ever become sinner before so.. that at least helped your mind keep itself from flipping over.

God..but your surroundings?

It reeked.

You peeked a bit in the dumpster out of curiosity but the intensity of the smell made you wanna puke so your nose begged you to move away. Now looking at the exit out of the alley you first picked up your halo to then place it above your head, floating above you right after letting it go. Picking up your bag once again to hold it tightly near you so no one would steal it.. being as cautious as you could.

Slowly peeking out of the alley you noticed a humble little town with colors of red, shades of pink, and filled with a few sharp toothed people. Everyone walked around casually and happily, like how normal humans would. Despite how huge the place is there seems to be a lack of crowds.. as if half of the town is missing.

Huh, this place reminded you of a sunny day in New Orleans when you were alive. Is this.. really hell? You haven't come across any people jumping out to kill you or anyone else randomly but a few explosions from far away still made you jerk from fear.

You carefully stepped out of the alley, feeling especially out of place the moment you started walking out. People with various shades of gray skin, everyone with blacked out eyes, sharp teeth, and all still dressed in clothes from around the time you died, maybe a bit of more older fashions but still.. reminded you of back home on earth just slightly.

Each step you took was a new question that you gave yourself.. where were you? is this a level or part of hell? does hell look this way all the time? is the Hazbin Hotel of walking distance? is Emily okay? why does the air smell weird? is your dad Alastor around? is it obvious im not from here-- oh of course it is you have a fucking halo damn it.

'Everyone looks almost normal," you thought 'Maybe I can try to find someone to help m--'

"Oh!.." you bumped into someone, someone small. You looked down to see a fairly normal looking child with eyes entirely blacked out, no pupils to be seen. Geez.. you couldn't lie but they creeped you out a bit.

"Hello there.. sorry I didn't see you.." you spoke to the kid despite how weary you were, giving it an apologetic smile while waving a little towards them in a very awkward manner.

They spoke nothing but instead flashed you a large sharp toothed smile that made your blood curl a bit, what made it worse was what it did next.

"It's okay missy! I like your wings!" Normally you'd smile more and make small talk but-- then the kid took out a cut off hand from behind their back and started chomping it on it as if it was corn on the cob. With your skin crawling and your face as white as a sheet from the shock, the kid then proceeded to run off nibbling on the bleeding hand.

You stood there frozen, your stomach begging to release anything you ate before you came upon here. You slowly turned your head to the right, your peripheral vision noticing a large wooden sign.

'Welcome to Cannibal Town!'

'Well that.. really explains it.' you took a few deep breaths as you tried to control yourself and your upcoming panic as to not alert other cannibals of your fear.. but you could've sworn they could probably smell it off of you.

Would they eat you? Are they going to eat you?.. but some have been looking at you walking by-- are they getting ready to pounce on you, bite off your flesh and--

You stopped in your tracks, noticing how further you are in the town from all your overthinking. You looked up to see that you are at the front steps of a small stage?.. gazebo..? you couldn't remember how hard your heart was pounding.

All of a sudden you felt an incredibly sharp pain on your wing, one that made you shriek aloud and everyone suddenly stopped and stared at you. You turned to see an old lady with a cane looking very similar to other residents around you-- BITE your wing?? what the actual living fuck??

The old woman seemed to grin and licking the golden blood from the bite she got from your wings, fortunately for you she only bit and didn't actually get a chunk of your wing off instead.. either way it fucking stung the way a large wasp sting would.

"Angel wings.. not bad at all-- OUCH!!" The old lady then let out a shriek herself, being hit by the end of a sun umbrella this time and whoever was holding it was shooing her away from you.

"Shoo! Shoo! Susan!! Run off now! We don't bite new otherworldly guests like that!" The voice shouted before the old woman scurried off just as fast as she came. 

You whimpered a bit as your bitten and slightly bleeding wing leaned towards your hands, your palms and fingers then gently caressing them as an attempt to soothe the pain with tears brimming and silently sliding down your eyes.

"Oh I'm so sorry about that sweetheart, that old hag has no manners." The same voice, a woman's voice, called out to you. Her appearance also looks similar to everyone else, the only difference is her large hat decorated with elaborate feathers and adorned with a small skull. 

"Let me see that dear.." she leaned in with her hand reaching towards your wing but of course you flinched away from her, absolutely not trusting her in the slightest form your first terrible experience and the many words of others before you.

You looked at her with fear you've never felt before, fear that you haven't felt since your death. You quickly backed away, your injured wing cowering towards your hands and chest.

'Holy.. fuck..'

"The names Rosie, sweetheart, what's a pretty little thing like you walking around here with no sense of danger?"

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor held you in his arms as your nine year old self was fiddling with a toy in your hands after a long day of being taken care of by one of Alastor's lady friends. The man was coming out of work from hosting his famous radio show as he usually always did and now was entering his home after a tiring day from work and honestly he wasn't up for taking care of you right now. If anything he should've probably let you stay with the woman forever and he wouldn't have to be dealing with baby troubles..

Yet everyday you somehow always gave him a reason to keep you despite his almost heartless nature.

He walked in his home and closed the door behind him, locking it as well. Walking over to the sofa he turned on a nearby lamp before setting you down on the cushions and let you be in your own world while he then went to go eat something himself. You didn't have to since the woman that babysat fed you quite well and you liked what she gave so there was no need for you to be overfed.

Alastor went to prepare a meal for himself, not saying much to you in the process since all he wanted was to eat and sleep so better to just fill one of the boxes on that checklist as soon as possible. So while you were still distracted he quickly made himself a meal and started eating so he wouldn't starve before bed.

You were playing with your toy the nice lady gave you, mumbling small nonsense here and there while playing around. Until you decided to speak up loudly from afar,

"Papa, can I ask something?" you talked as you kept yourself entertained with your toy.

Alastor sighed a bit "Yes dear, what is it?" exhaustion evident on his voice that contracted to his permanent smile, be it small or big.

"Is it true that when you found me, my mama and papa didn't want me because I was an ugly and loud cry-baby?"

Alastor almost spit out his food, inevitably starting choking on it. Saving himself from dying of choking by drinking his drink he set with his food and calmed down. "W.. Why do you think that sweetheart? Who told you such an untrue lie!.." 

In truth, he didn't actually know why you were abandoned in that alley. All he found when he picked you up was you wrapped around in baby blankets in a basket and a note with a date on it, most likely your date of birth, but other than that he never knew why you ended up there and why. He simply just took you in and called you his own.

"The boys in the playground I played with said their mamas and papas knew you, and knew you found me. They then started saying I dress too girly and that my real mama and papa left me because I was ugly and a loud cry baby and that's why I don't have a mama and papa." Your little voice seemed to shake a bit but obviously tried your best to hide it away even at this young of an age.

But your father could see and hear right through you. 

Alastor sighed before taking one last spoonful of his food before leaving his meal there to walk towards you, settling himself on the same sofa you both always make the best of memories, this being one of them.

"Well darling, those boys obviously have parents who don't educate them! And are as dull as a doorknob if they say all that foolish nonsense.. you do have a mama and papa!"

You looked at him incredibly confused, since when did you have a mother?

He noticed this and laughed a bit at your expression "Silly, I'm your mama and papa! I do both jobs! I make you food, I have clothes for you, I give you a home, I get you ready for school, I talk to you all the time because you're mine!" He spoke cheerily, as if stating a very well known fact "Their eyes also must not be working also since I think I got the prettiest daughter in all of New Orleans if I do say so myself!" he pinched your cheek playfully, making you giggle. 

He continued on "Yes, you did indeed cry a lot as a small tiny baby but do you think I would've kept you if you were an enormous crybaby? Of course not! Which is why I still have you here with me." Alastor-- "And you dress too girly??.. why, but of course you'll dress the way you do.. you're my little girl! how will my little dove be able to shine in her natural beauty if she doesn't wear the most marvelous pieces of wardrobe I can get her!" He then continued to pinch both your cheeks at the same time, some of your cute baby fat still present on your face despite being a year behind in heading towards the double digits. 

You giggled and laughed loudly, smiling.. just the way you should always be.

Yes he was too tired for this, he was downright exhausted, but hey-- if he can keep an unfaltering smile despite feeling this then of course he can keep up with you even if he's not in the mood. You're the only person who he doesn't like to see in pain, in tears-- 

It's his job to do this, for what is he if he leaves you wilting by yourself with no 'light' of your own to guide you.

Certainly, he wouldn't even deserve to be called your father.

"Oh and dear?"

"Yes papa!"

"What are the boys' names? And their parents? I must have a little chat with them soon!..."

Oh, Alastor.

[confessioncassette]

𝐔𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐝 - 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩.

𝐭𝐰 : 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐈’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

me and the devil, when you knocked upon my door.

Just one more time.

He'll check just one more time.

Alastor's footsteps are soft over the carpet leading up to your room, the faint glow of the lanterns pass over his face. Conflicted, he hesitates at the foot of your door.

The hotel is still. Charlie and her people fast asleep. The hallways smell of fresh carpet, wood and paint due to the new renovations of the hotel after the extermination.

It should be safe enough for you, but he can't help the feeling that gnaws at the pit of his stomach.

Mortification burns through his veins. The pathetic act of cockiness nearly killed him. How could he let himself slip up so badly? His battle with Adam should have been easy, but he overestimated. He should have reminded himself that he's bound as well- and to not push a limit that's out of reach.

The one thing that boils within his chest is now something that cannot be ignored- something he refused to acknowledge for a while.

That his composure that was once tightly woven is now unraveling. His composure is slipping through his fingers.

The face of your door mocks him. He shouldn't be here.

He stares at the wood to find an answer, but he's left with nothing. Not even a shadow. And yet, everything that is within himself stares right back at him.

Taunting. Insulting.

Pathetic.

"Alastor," that familiar feminine voice echoes throughout his head, "you've really let yourself go."

He knows what lies beyond, and he knows that he cannot mess with this any longer. But no matter how hard he pushes this feeling down, he's always pulled back to where you lie.

A moth to a flame.

With a rush of anxiety, similar to a child about to do something bad and knows of the consequence, he melts into shadows and slithers into your room.

And there you are, lying peacefully as you sleep. Your body slowly rises and falls to the rhythm of your breath.

Safe.

He just needed to see it.

"You know she won't be safe for long," the voice coos, a mental hand caresses his brain, "all the things you sentiment will always die."

Alastors face remains calm, ignoring the nagging voice that unsolicitedly forces its way in his head.

"Pathetic... I expected more from you."

Drowning out the voice, Alastor is focused only on you.

You.

A leach. A bloodsucking creature that slithered your way in and sunk claws into his soul. It simultaneously confuses and angers him that a small, insignificant sinner could pry their way down into the depths of his being. It's disgusting.

It's a problem that he can no longer dance around.

He knows what he is, and he never denies it. He thrives in death, the beauty of torture, the screams he can produce from pain. The temptation of killing is always pricking his fingertips. And yet here you are, a harmless little fawn.

You never matched him in power, but the depths of your soul are intriguing. It calls to him like a song that never stops singing. That day he bound your soul was the first time he's heard such beauty. It's infuriating.

It's hard to ignore.

"You'll never be able to keep her safe... A pathetic excuse for an overlord like you will never be enough."

Red eyes scan over your sleeping form. His ear twitches with annoyance as he admires your parted soft lips, your hair splayed out over your pillow, your face peaceful and slack with slumber.

Alastor doesn't make a sound as he saunters to your bed. He wonders what lies in your dreams, if he's there with you or if you prefer to be alone. He wonders what worlds you travel to when you drift away.

His gloved hand slides over your soft bedding before gently sitting down into the plush mattress. He's careful not to wake you with the movement. He's been in your room plenty of times- it feels both foreign and familiar. Your decorations down to the pillows are soft and delicate, like you're trying to find a comfort in this hell- a perfect reflection of you.

How fitting.

Do you dream of a life outside of this inferno? Do you believe him when he tells you that you're protected? What lies beneath your smile? Do you have any inkling of his growing passion for you?

Do you wish to spend your eternity elsewhere?

"My little doe, so delicate." He murmurs as he brushes a stray hair out of your face.

She'll be safe, he reminds himself, just never let the facade falter.

"For now."

Moments like this remind him that in the midst of chaos, in the midst of his sadistic desires, that you're the one thing he needs to come back to at the end of the day.

[willowbelle]

Hunger

luffy & jealousy + possessiveness

per this request from my 500 follower event!

❤︎ luffy x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: jealousy, infatuation, breast play, oral (f receiving), first-time-sex, wall-sex, messy sex, possessive sex, use of “say you’re mine”, fluff.

summary: luffy is confused about his emotions, therapist/mother robin to the rescue, luffy is jealous of seeing reader with someone else, luffy confesses his love for reader, reader is a bit of a tease, luffy is a bit of a softdom, luffy is silly, fluff, possessive sex ensues.

word count: ~5,000

tagging: @luckycheesecakeangel @missmugiwara @bby-deerling @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff

Hunger

Luffy is a force to be reckoned with. 

A dream-driven man with a stong heart and big goals. 

The strawhat captain seems to always possess an infectiously optimistic and cheerful demeanor, seemingly boundless in its exuberance.

And yet, something seemed to shift in Luffy when you joined his crew. 

Something foreign stirred within the rubber man’s heart at the sight of you with someone else.

His once unwavering buoyant spirit falters, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. His demeanor, once brimming with optimism, now bore traces of insecurity and envy, casting an unusual shadow over his usual vibrant presence.

----

As he sits alone on the deck of The Sunny, his gaze lifts towards you nestled in the crow's nest alongside Usopp, sharing laughter and conversation as you peer through the telescope onto the open sea.

A knot begins to tighten in his stomach, a feeling he’s never experienced before. It’s a surge of conflicting emotions—longing mingled with frustration, desire tempered by insecurity. He can’t quite place it; it’s alien, unsettling, and leaves him feeling confused and frustrated by its elusivity. 

He balls his fists, shuts his eyes tightly and wrinkles his nose before letting out a frustrated sigh. What was happening to him? He’s going to be the King of the Pirates, he can’t be held back by something he doesn’t even understand. 

This uncharted territory challenges Luffy. He’s always been fearless, plunging himself into uncertain situations without a second thought; blinding following his heart as he charges through predicaments with a wide smile and laughter as his battle cry. His courage knows no bounds, once he sets his mind to something, he'll stop at nothing to achieve it. 

Yet, in this moment of solitude on the deck, he finds himself grappling with an emotion entirely alien to him. Despite his typical determination to conquer any challenge, this unfamiliar tide of jealousy erodes his confidence, tickles his skin and buries its way into his conscience, leaving him exposed and adrift in uncertainty.

----

Robin is quiet in her approach, slipping beside the captain completely unnoticed as his eyes are still screwed shut, internally wrestling with his emotions. 

“Luffy,” the tall woman says quietly, placing a gentle hand on her captain’s shoulder, “Are you alright?” 

Luffy's eyes flicker open at the touch of Robin's hand on his shoulder, surprise evident in his expression as he turns to look at her. He finds solace in her motherly presence, her calm demeanor a soothing contrast to the turmoil raging within him.

For once, he takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I- I don't know, Robin. Something feels off. Never felt like this before."

Robin's gaze softens, her understanding evident as she meets his eyes. "Emotions can be complex, Luffy. Even the strongest of us struggle with them from time to time." She rubs soothing circles into his shoulder as she speaks, “Can you describe what you’ve been feeling?”

Luffy lets out a long exhale, his shoulders relaxing under Robin's soothing touch.

"It's like... there's this tight knot in my chest," he begins, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, "I've always charged into things without thinking too much, but now... it's different. There's this feeling of... of wanting something I can't have, and it's driving me crazy."

"Are you thinking about something or someone in particular?" Robin inquires, sensing the shift in his persona.

Luffy's gaze shifts, his expression reflecting a mix of hesitation and vulnerability. "Yeah... I'm thinking about her," he confesses, eyes darting upwards to you in the crow’s nest, his voice barely above a whisper.

Robin hums and nods understandingly, her eyes empathetic as she waits for him to continue.

"She's always been there, you know?" Luffy continues, his voice gaining strength with each word. "But seeing her up there with Usopp... it's like a punch to the gut. What does that mean, Robin?"

The tall woman chuckles warmly, impressed by her captain’s vulnerability. 

“I think you’re jealous, captain,” she speaks kindly, but there’s a hint of amusement evident in her tone. 

"Jealous?" the rubber man questions.

"It’s a natural emotion that arises when we feel threatened by the possibility of losing something or someone we care about to someone else." she begins, "It can stem from a fear of being replaced or left behind, or from a deep-rooted desire to possess what we perceive as rightfully ours," Robin elaborates, her tone patient and empathetic.

Luffy reacts with immediate defiance, as is his custom, shaking his head adamantly in denial.

 "Me? Jealous? Pfft, no way!" he retorts, his stubbornness evident in his refusal to accept her diagnosis.

Robin offers a knowing smile, recognizing Luffy's typical reluctance to acknowledge his vulnerabilities.

"Luffy, it's okay to feel jealous," she reassures him, her voice gentle yet firm. "It's a natural part of being human. It’s completely normal to feel this way, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. It doesn't make you any less strong or brave."

Luffy grumbles under his breath, still reluctant to admit to himself that he's experiencing such a seemingly weak emotion.

"But think about it, Luffy," Robin continues, her tone encouraging. "Jealousy shows that you care deeply about this person, that they mean a lot to you. It's a sign of the strength of your feelings."

Luffy's expression softens as he considers Robin's words, a flicker of understanding dawning in his eyes.

"Maybe you're right, Robin," he admits reluctantly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But what do I do about it?"

"Well, first, you acknowledge your feelings," she advises, "Then, you talk about them, like you're doing now.”

Determination has found him again, and Luffy rises from the deck, courage etched into every line of his expression. He turns to Robin, his eyes alight with determination.

"I'm going to talk to her!" he declares, his voice ringing with a familiar conviction.

Robin smiles, her pride evident as she nods in approval. "I'm proud of you, Luffy. Remember, honesty and sincerity will always guide you."

----

With those words echoing in his mind, Luffy sets off across the deck, his heart pounding with anticipation. As he approaches the crow’s, his nerves threaten to overwhelm him, but he pushes them aside, focusing on the goal ahead, like he always does. 

Luffy ascends the steps to the crow's nest with a determined stride, his heart beating a steady rhythm of courage. As he reaches the top, he finds you and Usopp engrossed in conversation, your laughter mingling with the gentle breeze.

"Hey, Luffy!" Usopp greets him with a wide grin, but Luffy's focus remains on you.

"I need to talk to you!" Luffy blurts out. 

You look up at your captain, surprise flickering across your features at his sudden request.

"Sure, Luffy! What's on your mind?"

“J-Just come with me!” the strawhat captain stammers. 

You exchange a curious glance with Usopp before nodding, intrigued by Luffy's urgency. Following him down from the crow's nest, you make your way to his quarters so you can talk in private. 

"What's going on, Luffy?" you ask, concern knitting your brow as you take in the seriousness etched into his expression.

But instead of answering, he simply rushes forwards, abruptly pressing you against the wall and immediately closing the distance by crashing his lips onto yours. 

“Mm!” you let out a surprised whimper as your captain’s lips roughly meet yours. 

Caught completely off guard by Luffy's sudden and bold move, you freeze for a moment, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. His lips against yours ignite a fire within you, stirring feelings you never knew existed.

As his kiss deepens, you find yourself responding instinctively, melting into the warmth of his embrace. His lips are rough and chapped but you don’t care, you just want this to continue. The world around you fades away, leaving only the sensation of his lips moving against yours, the beat of his heart echoing in sync with your own.

When Luffy finally pulls back, his eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and longing.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I just... I had to do that."

But before he can say more, you reach out and gently cup his face in your hands, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Luffy, it's okay," you reassure him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time too."

Relief floods over Luffy's features, his eyes sparkling with joy as he realizes that his feelings are reciprocated. Without another word, he pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if never wanting to let go.

“What finally made you do it, Luffy?” you whisper softly, the inquiry warm against his neck.

Luffy pulls back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of bashfulness and determination.

"I couldn't hold it in any longer," your captain admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you up there in the crow's nest, laughing and talking with Usopp... I realized how much you mean to me. I didn't want to waste any more time pretending that I didn't feel this way."

Your heart swells at his confession, the warmth of his words enveloping you like a comforting embrace.

"I'm glad you didn't," you reply softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I've been wanting to kiss you for so long."

A grin spreads across Luffy's face, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Me too," he admits, leaning in to brush his lips against yours once more.

“So captain,” you whisper sensually into his mouth, running a finger down his scarred chest, “You were jealous?”

Luffy’s breath hitches in his throat at your advancement; the feeling of your fingertip gliding down his body makes his skin tingle with something new. It’s exhilarating, arousing. 

“Y-Yes, y/n,” your captain stammers, his voice uncharacteristically shy, “I was so jealous..”

“Mmm,” you hum softly, eyes blown with lust as you gaze up at him, “Why don’t you show me just how jealous you were?”

Luffy's breath catches in his throat at your sultry suggestion, his heart pounding with desire as he meets your gaze, filled with a hunger that mirrors his own.

Without a word, he leans in closer, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that ignites a fire within both of you. His hands roam eagerly over your body, tracing every curve and eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

His kiss is primal, not practiced; he’s simply acting on instinct, letting human nature take the reigns.

“Oh, Luffy,” you whimper into his mouth, bringing your hands up to tangle your fingers in his mess of dark hair. 

As the heat between you intensifies, Luffy's passion burns bright, fueled by the jealousy that had consumed him moments before.

Luffy's hands explore your body with an eagerness that sends shivers down your spine. Each touch, each caress, is fueled by a primal desire to claim you as his own, to show you just how fiercely he wants you. 

His movements are hurried and clumsy, he’s clearly out of his element, but you couldn’t care less, you just want his hands on you, regardless of  how haphazardly they behave. 

 His hands roam hungrily over your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he pulls you closer.

“Y/n,” the captain rasps into your mouth, “Need you” 

You shiver at the rasp of his voice against your lips, the urgency in his touch igniting something fierce within you.

“Then take me, Captain,” 

Your words hang in the air, charged with desire and anticipation, as you meet his gaze with unwavering intensity. In that moment, there's no hesitation, no doubt.

With a primal growl of need, he crushes his chapped lips to yours once more, his touch becoming more urgent, more desperate as he pulls you closer.

His calloused hands travel up your torso to grasp your breasts through your shirt, making you let out a whimper at the sensation. He’s rough, not thinking twice as he lets his yearning speak for him; undeniably Luffy. 

Lost in the heat of the moment, you give yourself over completely to him, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of his touch and the overwhelming emotions that consume you both. 

You let your eyes roll back as Luffy presses you harder into the wall, the grip he has on your breasts never faltering as he haphazardly snakes his tongue into your mouth. 

“Mm, L-Luffy-” you whine, letting your captain have his way with you. 

“All mine,” he groans into your open mouth, “You’re all mine.”

A playful smirk curves your lips as you pull back just slightly, teasing him with your proximity. 

You know your captain can’t ignore a challenge. 

“Prove it,” you whisper sensually. 

Without a word, he responds with actions rather than words, his hands moving with purpose as he trails kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch is possessive, claiming you as his own with each caress, each tender stroke.

You gasp at the intensity of his touch, your body arching into his as he keeps you pressed firmly against the wall. 

An amused chuckle rumbles out of his chest as your body melts to his touch. 

He continues down your neck, speaking into your skin in between kisses,

"You like that, don't 'cha?"

His kisses are rough and quick, but they leave your skin goosebump-ridden and undeniably needy, eliciting moans of pleasure from your lips as he trails down to your chest.

"Off, off," the captain whines eagerly, his hands tugging impatiently at the hem of your shirt. His urgency sparks a giggle from you, and you oblige his needy request, slowly peeling the garment from your body, revealing the bare expanse of your skin underneath.

As the fabric falls away, his eyes widen, drinking in the sight before him with unabashed hunger.

With your shirt removed, you feel a rush of exhilaration, basking in the raw desire reflected in Luffy's eyes. You shyly turn your head, blood rushing to your face as his gaze roams hungrily over your exposed skin, his breath growing heavier with each passing moment.

“W-Woah!” he exclaims, astonished, “You look so beautiful!”

Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips trailing a path of fire along your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your breath hitches at the sensation, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair as you pull him closer.

He’s hot to the touch and his breath is no different, sending a rush of heat down to find its home in your core. 

Your legs suddenly feel weak, threatening to give out beneath you at the intensity of the situation; Luffy’s hands exploring your body, his rough lips against your skin. It's magnificent, allconsuming. 

“Luffy,” you whimper, desperate for more stimulation. 

The strawhat captain chuckles warmly against your skin, pleased at your desperation. 

“Ya must really want me, huh?” he teases, sinking to his knees in front of you. 

You playfully swat at the top of his head as he assumes his new position. 

“Oh shush,” you tease, sucking in your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch Luffy bite at the waistband of your skirt. 

As Luffy kneels before you, a mischievous glint dances in his eyes, his fingers deftly working at the waistband of your skirt. With a playful tug, he begins to slide the fabric down your legs, his movements slow and deliberate as he reveals more of your trembling form.

As the fabric finally pools at your feet, you stand before him completely exposed, your skin flushed with arousal and anticipation. Luffy's gaze roams unapologetically over your body, his expression one of pure hunger as he takes in the sight.

To your astonishment, you could just make out the faint hint of drool pooling at the corners of his lips.

Without a word, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he presses his lips to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urge him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

In this moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint—only the overwhelming need to lose yourself in the ecstasy of his touch, to surrender completely to his advancements.

As Luffy's lips trail higher along your inner thigh, a shiver of anticipation courses through you, your breath hitching with each tender kiss. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body and leaving you yearning for more.

“Can’t wait to taste you,” he rasps quietly against your flesh. 

You feel a surge of heat pooling in your core, aching to be released, as Luffy's warm breath fans against your skin. With each passing moment, the intensity of the sensation builds, drawing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers threading through his hair as you guide him ever closer to the source of your desire. 

“P-Please, Captain,” you whine. 

And when his lips finally meet your clothed slit, you let out a soft cry of pleasure, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

He immediately hooks a finger beneath your panties, unable to resist any longer, he tugs the fabric aside, revealing your soaking cunt.

He lets out a pleased sigh, pupils growing wide with hunger at the heavenly sight.

His tongue meets your slit immediately, not even waiting a second before it starts hungrily slipping up and down your aching sex. 

“Mm, L-Luffy!” you stammer, letting out a weak cry of pleasure.

Luffy's ministrations are relentless, each flick of his tongue sending you spiraling further into the depths of pleasure.

He lets out a hearty moan into your cunt as he continues his efforts,

“Damn, you taste so delicious, y/n.”

As Luffy’s tongue continues to trace patterns of pure bliss, you begin to lose your composure, breathing growing heavy as you seem to melt into the wall you’re pressed against. 

With a primal growl of ravenousness, Luffy takes your thigh in his hand, his touch both firm and gentle as he raises your leg to rest it upon his strong shoulder. The new position grants him even greater access to his feast, allowing him to delve deeper into your most intimate depths.

“O-Oh, Captain-!” you moan shakily, engrossed with the feeling of his hot tongue meeting new parts of your pussy. 

He's messy and uncoordinated, slobbering all over your cunt as he devours it feverishly.

Your breaths come in quick, shallow gasps, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of your arousal. Your cheeks flush with warmth, the heat of your pleasure painting your face in crimson. Your skin feels feverish under Luffy’s tongue, each flick igniting a blaze of euphoria that spreads through your body and leaves you trembling.

His movemenrts are undeniably sloppy, but beneath the messiness, there’s an unmistakable underbelly of desperation, hunger, longing. 

With each passing moment, the intensity of the pleasure builds, drawing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. You cling to him desperately, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation.

“L-Luffy,” you huff weakly, “I-I’m close-”

The rubber man doubles his efforts, flicking his tongue more feverishly now, latching onto your clit and sucking hard at the aching nub. 

"Mmm, y/n-"

In an instant, you’re gushing onto his tongue, making him groan heartily as he laps up all of your essence. 

You bask in the glow of your pleasure, legs trembling as you struggle to stand, face flushed hot with the intensity of your oirgasm. 

Luffy's laughter rings out, a joyful sound that fills the air as he rises from his knees, his eyes sparkling with both pleasure and amusement. 

“That was so fun!”

With a playful grin, he leans in, capturing your gasping mouth with his own in a searing kiss.

“Wanna have more fun with ya,” the captain smirks. 

His urgency makes you giggle, blush decorating your cheeks. With a playful grin of your own, you nod eagerly, your heart pounding with anticipation.

“I want you so badly, Luffy,” you nip at his neck.

He wastes no time in tugging his pants down as his tongue dances with yours, his cock springing free and hitting against his toned abdomen with a lewd smack. 

He chuckles into your mouth at the sensation, amused by his own arousal. 

His desisres and primal and raw, and he can’t shake his unwavering desire to be inside you.

In an instant, Luffy lifts you effortlessly into his arms, pressing you against the wall with a new sense of urgency. Your heart races as you feel his powerful muscles flexing beneath you, his warmth enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

“L-Luffy-”

You gasp at the suddenness of his movement, your body tingling with anticipation as he holds you close, his gaze locked with yours in a silent promise of passion. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“W-Wanna be in you,” he rasps into the dip of your neck, his breath hot against your flesh, “Wanna show you you’re all mine.”

As you’re suspended against the wall in his arms, he brings a hand down to grasp his needy cock, moving forwards to begin rubbing it against your weeping slit, the friction making you whimper with need.

As Luffy continues to rub himself against your slick folds, the intensity of the sensation builds; each movement sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you gasping and whimpering with need.

“Luffy,” you whine, “Please, fuck me-”

Your captain chuckles at your desperation, continuing his efforts as he groans softly into your collarbone.

“You’re so warm,” he sighs shakily, “Gonna squeeze me so tight.”

Your skin tingles with anticipation as you feel him pressing against you, his cock hard and eager against your aching core. 

His tip meets your entrance with a precautionary nudge, and he glaces up at you, a wide smile decorating his face. 

“You ready for me?” he asks, his voice filled with anticipation and a hint of mischief.

“Yes, Luffy,” you whimper, your voice laden with need, “Please-” 

And with that, Luffy presses forward, his cock sliding effortlessly into your slick heat. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel him filling you completely, stretching you in all the right ways.

“O-Oh, captain!” you moan, letting your eyes roll back in your skull as he stuffs you full.

He groans heartily as he buries himself deep inside your tight heat, pressing you harder into the wall as he finally bottoms out. 

“Damnit,” he rasps, slurring his words as pleasure consumes him, “S-So tight-never felt this before-”

His admission sends a thrill of satisfaction coursing through you, knowing that you are the one who has ignited this newfound passion within him.

Soon enough, he’s pulling his hips back to thrust into you, completely driven by instinct. 

With each thrust, he drives deeper, his movements becoming more urgent and intense. You cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his muscular back as you cry out in pleasure. 

His thrusts are feverish and uncoordinated, but the way his tip kisses your cervix has you seeing stars, and you simply can’t get enough. 

“Luffy-!" you whine, “F-Fuck-”

As he continues to move inside you, his groans of pleasure fill the air, mingling with your own cries of ecstasy.

You can feel him trembling with pleasure, his body pressed against yours as he loses himself in the intoxicating sensation of being engulfed in you.

"Y/n," he groans, his voice shaky and raspy, the intensity of his desire evident in every word. "Say it," he grits his teeth as he speaks, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment. "Say you're mine."

Your head feels fuzzy and your vision is hazy as Luffy continues pounding into you, filling you with only visions of him and his brutal thrusts. 

“I-I’m yours, Luffy-!” you whine, your voice becoming hoarse, “I’m all yours-!”

"Good," the rubber man chuckles, a wide, toothy grin tugging at his lips as he revels in your admission, "That's what I want to hear."

He leans forward, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck as he continues to drive into you with increasing fervor. Each thrust is more forceful than the last, the sensation of his teeth against your skin sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

“F-Fuck, L-Luffy,” you curse shakily, feeling the coil tighten in your lower stomach as you rapidly approach the brink of your impending orgasm.

“Yeah?” he groans, “Are ya close baby? I can feel ya shaking,” he giggles, his skin meeting yours with a lewd smack with each thrust.

Despite the roughness of his actions, there's a tenderness in his touch—a raw, primal need to possess you completely. With each bite, each thrust, he claims you as his own, leaving no doubt in your mind as to where you belong.

“Y-Yes, captain,” you moan unapologetically, “Please d-don’t stop-!”

As he rams into you with reckless abandon, you can feel the tension building within you, the pressure of his desire pushing you closer and closer to the edge. With each passing moment, the fire of your passion burns hotter and hotter, threatening to consume you both in its fiery embrace.

“Fuck, y/n-”

He groans through gritted teeth as he reaches his own peak, trembling as he holds you up. With one final, brutal thrust, he spills his hot cum deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release.

You reach your own climax in tandem with him, the intensity of your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your legs shake uncontrollably as they remain wrapped around his waist, the waves of pleasure washing over you with an undeniable force.

“L-Luffy,” you whimper, overwhelmed by pleasure, clinging to him desperately.

You collapse into each other's arms, spent and sated, basking in the glow of your shred ecstasy. 

“Mine.” Luffy giggles, rubbing comforting circles into the apple of your cheek as he kisses you gently. 

“Yours,” you smile against his lips. 

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Siren!Leon headcannons 🧜🏼‍♂️🐚

A/N: this was so much fun!!! I got a little carried away, but I feel there's still so much I could add here, so let me know if you want to see more! There's not smut in this one sadly, because um... idk.. how that would work?

~Fi 🐝

《Prompt》: lovely request by @maviettt is here!

《Warnings》: brief mentions of gore and Leon eating people, obessesive and possessive Leon, some angst, insecure Leon :(, lots of luv for the fish boy <3

《Word count》: 2.4k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

💙~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🪼~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💙

💙~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🪼~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💙

Siren!Leon, who spends his days luring all the pretty sailors to their demise, having himself a tasty meal of naivety and pure unawareness. I mean, what girl wouldn't be enarmoured with this handsome and so kind merman, right? With his blue, ocean eyes and shiny scales.

Siren!Leon, who lurs them in with promises of love and care, only to yank them into the deep sea and tear into them with his pointy teeth. He's not too fond of doing this, but he doesn't really have a choice, and you get hardened over the years.

Siren!Leon, who casually swims through a nearby Lagoon, catching a glimpse of you and your sisters lounging in the sun. You're laughing, and Leon swears that you're the Siren in this scenario. You look so pretty with your colorful, glittery tail. Your damp hair that's drying up from the salty water. The small trinkets braided into your locks and hung from your body.

Siren!Leon, who is always drawn back to this Lagoon, always wanting to see you again. He thinks you're a bright, shining pearl, and the world is your oyster. But he also understands that you're off limits to him. You would be scared of him, wouldn't you? You're such a pretty thing. His treasure.

Siren!Leon, who admires you from afar, always hoping to see you smile once again. He's infatuated with you. He's sighing dreamily when he sees you throw your head back in laughter or hiding your giggles behind your hand.

Siren!Leon, who looks for you after he hasn't seen you at the Lagoon for a while, only to find you washed up on the beach, all tangled up in a net. You look so... dry. The colors of your tail are dulled, and your skin doesn't look like it was kissed by the morning dew anymore.

Siren!Leon, who is so conflicted. He needs to help you, but what if he scares you? He doesn't want to risk that. You're the favorite part of his day! Alas, he relents and carefully swims up to you as close as he can before gently tugging you back into the water by your tail.

Siren!Leon, who holds you until you've gotten some of the ocean's energy into you. He can basically watch you flourish as you're returned to your home. But his heart breaks when you gain back consciousness and immediately try and get away from him.

Siren!Leon, who tries to explain to you that he just wants to help. You're still bound in the net, and you can't swim properly like this. You're obviously skeptical. Acting all kind and luring people in was kind of his deal as a Siren, after all. But there's something so soft about his voice and expressions.

Siren!Leon, who truly has no bad intentions, but he has to restrain himself from pouncing on you the second you give him the go-ahead to free you from the net with his sharp teeth.

Siren!Leon, who doesn't miss your blush, when his lips brush against your skin while he's chewing you out of your bounds. He can't help himself and grins, and accidentally bumps his lips against your scales more just to see you react.

Siren!Leon, who is quite flustered himself when you thank him and tell him that he's not as scary as you thought he would be. And when you tell him you like the color of his scales and his cute little fin ears, he is over the moon!!

Siren!Leon who tries to hide his malicious side from you as best as he can just because he is terrified that you would be scared of him. Maybe even disgusted. He doesn't want that.

Siren!Leon, who sees you wave to him on his usual morning round past the Lagoon, and he almost passes out. Yeah, he had saved you, but for you to so boldly be nice to him in front of your sisters? He's thinking of that for the rest of the day.

Siren!Leon, who gets bolder each day, waving back with a smile, maybe even greeting you and your sisters until he fully swims up to all of you! He's kinda crushed when your sisters scatter like little anchovies. He just wanted to say hi :(

Siren!Leon, who gets comforted and assured by you, saying that "they don't know you like I do." You explain how, although Leon is a Siren, he's so sweet! He saved you from certain death, after all.

Siren!Leon, who eventually gets taken in by your sisters, and he gets to lounge in the Lagoon with you. Some are still a little weary, but as time goes on, they all warm up to that smile and those pretty eyes.

Siren!Leon, who only has eyes for you. You are the sun in his sky, the moon that guides his tides. He's head over heels for you. It started off as forbidden glances, admiring your beauty, and now he is making you laugh and spending as much time with you as he can.

Siren!Leon, who knows you're falling for him too when you start bringing him little treasures and trinkets that you found. It's usually a shiny rock or a seashell, but sometimes you bring him valuable shinies from recent shipwrecks that you're not supposed to be around.

Siren!Leon, whose heart pumps out of his chest when he sees all your sisters nudging you in his direction with your hand behind your back and a red face. He revels in your cuteness when you shyly press the rock into his hand and speed off.

Siren!Leon, who starts calling you his treasure or his pearl. That's exactly what you are to him, and he needs the whole seven seas to know that. Plus, your pretty smile and the kiss to the cheek he gets from you after is a nice bonus.

Siren!Leon, who lets you decorate him and his tail when you run out of space on your own. You tie cloth and braided seaweed around his fin and arms, adding one of your little trinkets at the end. He wears them with pride because everyone knows they're from you.

Siren!Leon, who loves to braid your hair for you. You're always finding more pretty things to put in your hair, and you can't see the back, obviously, but he loves doing it for you. He gets so good to the point that he's doing all of your sisters' hair, too.

Siren!Leon, who rarely goes back to luring humans to their death, simply because he would rather spend time with you. He's acquired a taste for small fish, which unfortunately can't match the salivating taste of humam flesh, but he's willing to give it all up for you. he's still so worried that you'll catch him one day and see the monster he truly is.

Siren!Leon, who sits in the small tide pool close to a bay, soaking up the moonlight with you, and the way it makes you look ethereal. You look even prettier like this than in the sun. The silvery streaks reflect off of your features so beautifully, and he knows that he's doomed.

Siren!Leon, who spends all of his nights with you, not wanting that image of your lovely self dipped in the rays of Mother Moon to go away. He loves talking to you at night. Sharing quiet stories and tales interrupted by soft giggles.

Siren!Leon, who kisses you for the first time on the beach where he saved you. He melts when he finally feels your lips on his, and he's holding you so tight and full of love that you can't imagine being anywhere else.

Siren!Leon, who found a pearl at the bottom of the ocean, your favorite color, and he gives it to you as a gift under one of those moonlit nights. He's confessing his love to you, giving the pearl to you as a sign of always wanting to be with you.

Siren!Leon who doesn't know whether to blush and hide or be giddy like an idiot when he sees you wearing his pearl the next morning, showing it off to all your sisters who are all in awe of its beauty.

Siren!Leon, who loves to spend his days lying in the sand with you, playing with the many small braids and twists that adorn your silky locks. There's not much to do, but you make the days go by so fast.

Siren!Leon, who goes ballistic when your sisters rush to tell him that you've been captured by some filthy pirates while you were out exploring a new shipwreck, trying to find more odds and ends for your collection.

Siren!Leon, who can feel his blood boil in his veins. It's like a switch was flipped, and he falls back into his bloodthirsty and feral ways. It scares your sisters, but they know he's doing it for you.

Siren!Leon, who follows your scent and your soft pleads for mercy as the pirates decide whether to gut you or keep you for themselves. He has never swam this fast in his life. He had a strong tail, no doubt, but he pushed himself to his limit only to get to you.

Siren!Leon who feels so deeply and can feel the storm brewing inside of him. He can't help but feel somewhat reassured when dark, thick clouds rise in the sky and heavy winds, rain, and thundering streaks of lightning descend from the sky. He thanks Mother Moon with all his being for helping him rescue his treasure.

Siren!Leon, who sneaks close to the ship undetected, due to the heavy rain and loud thunder. He is out for blood, and one thing is clear; that ship will sink today, and he will make them pay.

Siren!Leon who punches holes into the body of the ship with his strong tail, making the ship sink slowly into the dark embrace of the ocean.

Siren!Leon, who when he finally gets to the bastard pirates, tears them to shreds without a thought. Thick crimson spills into the rowdy waters, and you can almost see the red reflecting in his eyes.

It's a mess of limbs and guts, the blood clinging to his pale skin like a curse. He doesn't want to admit how refreshing this felt- he was still a siren after all.

Siren!Leon who snaps out of his craze and immediately starts searching for you, calling out your name with desperation and fear. The lightning gets worse as he looks around frantically.

Siren!Leon, who finally spots you clinging to a piece of wood with bloody hands and teary eyes. He rushes over to you, and the relieved cries that rip from your throat make his heart hurt.

Siren!Leon, who scowls at the deep gash on your tail, no doubt courtesy of those pirates. He embraces you so softly, kissing your temple and whispering sweet reassurances to you.

You sniffled and looked up at him, the rain slowly washing away the blood that tarnished his skin. You spotted tears of his own welling up in his blue eyes, pained by the image of your wounded self. He never stopped stroking your hair and wiping away the rain that mixes with your tears as it falls on your face.

"They... they only hurt me because I didn't want to give them... this.." You spoke quietly, opening your bloody hand, revealing the pearl he had gifted you now smeared with blood. Leon felt his heartbeat all the way in his head. The gusting winds, loud thunder and the electrifying strikes of lightning died down and the surface of the water stilled into a soft ripple as he stared at you, not knowing what to do, or to feel.

Only the soft patter of rain on the ocean filled the silence that lingered between you two. Leon swallowed thickly and cupped your face, finding his words.

"My treasure, My pearl... why?"

You'd never heard him this hurt, defeated before.

"Because you gave it to me."

With your simple answer, he pulled you tight against his chest with his lips pressed to your forehead, hoping the rain would cover the tears that ran down his face, soaking into your hair.

Siren!Leon, whose blood freezes in his veins when you catch a glimpse of the massacre he had left and absolute horror washes over your face. He can feel his heart shatter with the way you look at him, with so much fear and- ...gratitude?

Siren!Leon, who gets the words knocked out of his head once again, when you softly touch his cheek and tell him that you're not afraid of him. You're still shaken up, in agony, and dismembered bodies aren't part of your usual routine.

But you tell him that you could never be scared of him. You know he would never hurt you, he loves you, and he only did what he needed to in order to rescue you. You're fully aware of what he is- a Siren, not a monster. He proved that to you many times with his gentle and kind nature. He feels pathetic when he breaks down as you whisper that you love him and press kisses to his hair. You're hurt, and he's crying, utterly overwhelmed by you and your love.

Siren!Leon, who will take care of you and the wound on your tail until it's fully healed. He gently drapes seaweed wraps over the gash and always makes sure you're not in any pain. He will make you hang onto him by his neck when he swims so you can still get around but not put any strain on your tail.

Siren!Leon, who plucks a scale from his tail and gifts it to you as full proof of his love and devotion for you. It hangs around your neck, right next to the pearl he had given you, and he can't help but smile when he sees how his shimmery blue scale looks against your skin.

Siren!Leon, who wears one of your scales on a cloth, tied around his arm, proudly showing it off whenever he can. Because he's as much yours as you are his. <3

💙~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🪼~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💙

I loved writing this so much!! Lmk your thoughts on Siren!Leon <3

More Leon works are here 🩷

《Tag list》: @dmitriene @k-fallingstar @vampkennedy

Comment to be added!

[communistkenobi]

Hi, genuine good faith question if you'd like! How is TOS racist? It was my understanding that the OG Series was like, huge for equality in media?

I’m speaking primarily about the content of TOS itself, not its historical impact - I understand it had various historic firsts in terms of having characters of colour in respectable roles, which I’m not dismissing. My experience with the discourse on here surrounding the show is that people front-load these character representations as emblematic of the show’s progressive politics. Which, if we want to go that route, TOS was contemporary to the US civil rights movement, which provides us with a handy measuring stick to see how TOS actually grapples with race, not just the presence of characters of colour themselves. I'm going to be kind of defensive in this explanation, not towards you specifically, but because I have had this conversation with people online many, many, many times, and so any defensiveness on my part is in anticipation of arguments I know will come up as a result of making the basic claim that a show made in America in the 1960s is racist. I'm also going to be copy + pasting from an older post I've made on the subject since it's been a while now since I've watched TOS so some of the details are fuzzy.

Like okay, the premise of TOS is that the Enterprise, as an ambassador of Starfleet/the Federation, is seeking out new alien life to study. The Prime Directive prohibits the Enterprise crew from interfering with the development of any alien culture or people while they do this, so the research they collect needs to be done in an unobtrusive way. I think this is the first point at which people balk at the argument that TOS is racist or has a colonial conception of the world - the Enterprise’s mission is premised on non-interference, and I think when people hear ‘colonial’ as a descriptor they (understandably, obviously) assume it is describing active conquest, genocide, and dispossession. Even setting aside all the times where Kirk does directly interfere with the “development” of a people or culture (usually because they’ve “stagnated” culturally, because a culture "without conflict" cannot evolve or “develop” beyond its current presumed capacity - he is pretty explicitly imposing his own values onto another culture in order to force them to change in a particular way), or the times when the Enterprise is actually looking to extract resources from a given planet or people, I’m not exactly making this claim, or rather, that’s not the only thing I’m describing when calling TOS racist/colonial.

The show's presentation of scientific discovery and inquiry is anthropological - the “object” of analysis is alien/foreign culture, meaning that when the Enterprise crew comes into contact with a new being or person, this person is always read first and foremost through the level of (the Enterprise’s understanding of) culture. Their behaviour, beliefs, dress, way of speaking, appearance, and so on are always reflective of their culture as a whole, and more importantly, that their racial or phenotypic characteristics define the boundaries of their culture. Put another way, culture is interpreted, navigated, and bound racially - the show presents aliens as a Species, but these species are racially homogeneous, flattening race to a natural, biological difference that is always physically apparent and presented through the lens of scientific objectivity, as "species" is a unit of biological taxonomy. Basically species is a shorthand for race. This is the standard of most sci-fi/fantasy genre work, so this is not a sin unique to Star Trek.

Because of this however, Kirk and Co are never really interacting with individuals, they are interacting with components of a (foreign, exotic, fundamentally different) culture, the same way we understand that a biologist can generalize about a species using the example of an individual 'specimen'. And when the Enterprise interacts with these cultures, they very frequently measure them using a universalized scale of development - they have a teleological (which is to say, evolutionary) view of culture, ie, that all cultures go from savage to rational, primitive to advanced, economically simple to economically complex (ie, to capitalist modes of production). And the metrics they are judging these cultures by are fundamentally Western ones, always emphasising to the audience that the final destination of all cultures (that are worthy of advancing beyond their current limited/“primitive” stages) is a culture identical to the Federation, a culture that can itself engage in this anthropological mission to catalogue all life as fitting within a universal set of practices and racial similarities they call “culture.”

This is a western, colonial understanding of culture - racially and spatially homogeneous people comprise the organs of a social totality, ie, a society, which can then be analysed as an “object,” as a “phenomenon,” by the scientists in order to extract information from them to produce and advance state (ie Federation) knowledge. The Enterprise crew are allowed to be individuals, are allowed to be subjects with a capacity for reason, contradiction, emotion, compassion, and even moments of savagery or violence, without those things being assigned to their “race” or “culture” as a whole, but the people they interact with are only components of a whole which are “discovered” by the Enterprise as opportunities to expand and refine the Federation’s body of knowledge.

Spock is actually a good example of what I'm talking about, because he is an exception to this rule - unlike the others in the crew, his behaviour is always read as a symptom of his innate Vulcan-ness, where his human and Vulcan halves war for dominance in his mind and character. Bones (the doctor, one of the main cast) constantly comments on Spock's inability to feel things, that he is callous and unsympathetic, ruled by Vulcan logic to such an extreme that his rationality is a form of irrationality, as his Vulcan blood prohibits him from tempering logic with human emotion and intuition. Now you can argue that Bones is a stand-in for the racists of the world, that Spock proves Bones wrong in that he is able to feel but merely keeps it under wraps, that Vulcans are not biologically incapable of emotion but merely live in a socially repressive culture, but this still engages in the racial logic of the show - Vulcans are a racially-bound species with a single monolithic culture, and Spock's ability to express and feel 'human emotions' is the metric by which he is granted human subjectivity and sympathy.

And on the flip side you have the Klingons - a “race” that is uniformly savage, backward, violent, and dangerous. In the episode Day of the Dove, where Klingons board the Enterprise along with an alien cloud that makes everyone suddenly aggressive and racist (this show is insane lol), the Enterprise crew begins acting violent and racist, but the Klingons don’t change. They aren’t more violent than before (because they already were fundamentally violent and racist), and they don’t become less violent when the cloud eventually leaves (because they are never able to emerge from their violence and savagery as a social condition or external imposition - they simply are that way). Klingons are racially, behaviourally, psychologically, and culturally homogeneous, universally violent and immune to reason, and their racial characteristics are both physical manifestations of this universal violence as well as the origin of it. The writers and creators of TOS are explicitly invoking the orientalist idea of the “Mongolian horde,” representing both the American fear of Soviet global takeover as well as blatantly racist fears about “Asiatics” (a word used in the show, particularly in The Omega Glory where a fear of racialised communist takeover is made explicit) dominating the world.

This is colonial thinking! Like, fundamentally, at its core, this is colonial white supremacist thinking. Now this is not because TOS invents these tropes or is the origin of them, it is not individually responsible for these racial and colonial logics - these conceptions are endemic to Western thought, and I am not expecting a television show to navigate its way outside of this current colonial paradigm of scientific knowledge. I’m also not expecting an average person watching this to pick out all the intricacies of this and link it to the colonial history of Europe or the colonial history of western philosophy/thought. But this base premise of Star Trek is why the show is fundamentally colonial - even if it was the case that the crew never intervened in any alien conflict, never extracted any material resources from other people, this would still be colonial logic and colonial thinking. The show has a fundamentally colonial imagination when it comes to exploration, discovery, and culture.

I think a good place to end is the opening sequence. The show's first line is always "Space! The final frontier." I do not think the word frontier is meant metaphorically or poetically - I think the show is being honest about its conception of space as an infinitely vast, infinitely exotic frontier from which a globally Western civilisation (which the Enterprise is an emblem of) can extract resources, be they material or epistemic

[jadestone2]

IM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH UR GUNS N ROSES + READER FIC AAAA I NEED MORE ITS LIKE A WHOLE NEW WORLD (please if you do write more I will be jumping out of joy (^.^)

Roses ‘n oil 

Theme: nsfw

Summary: Going to the bar with your boyfriends was a mistake, especially when someone flirts with you. They came up with an agreement to mark what’s theirs.

Pair: Boothill & Argenti x chubby reader 

Tw: bitting, oral (fem), praise

Song: Don’t go insane

A/n Don’t be shy to make yourself an official Noonie for my blog<33 you also didn’t tell me if you wanted sfw or nsfw, I did nsfw because I said I would for these 2 

Maybe going to the bar with your boyfriends was a mistake, especially when fights are bound to happen. The moment Boothill saw there was an ongoing fight he instantly shoves his hat on your head, covering your eyesight. 

His hat smelled like his cologne and the nasty smell of cigarettes, a hint of oil smell too. His intense smells clouds your head, though you welcomed it.

You sigh, watching a table smashing into a guy’s leg. Boothill goes crazy, his demonic laughter filling the bar as people watch with anticipation.

“Ugh, why am I surprised? So much for a calm day” You say, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“It’s alright, my love. Boothill will be fine, how about I get you a drink?” Argenti asks, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You nod your head, watching how Boothill doges glass bottles being thrown in his direction. Argenti could see how tense you were, he gently rubbed at your shoulder.

You watch the red man slowly dispersing into the crowd of people, the long red hair fading from your eyes. You sit in silence, still watching how Boothill seemed to enjoy making a scene. 

Suddenly the smell of alcohol smells stronger, a drunk man having a drunk smile on his face. Your eyes twitch in annoyance, he takes a seat by you.

“Looking good, darling” the man slurs, he looked like he was going to black out. 

His hands grab at the fat of your hip, squeezing. You cringe, removing his hand from your hip.

It felt like the fight stopped, the cheering slowly going dead quiet. You shiver, someone was staring at you with an intensity that would pierce through you.

The click of shoes as someone walks close to you, it sounds like they are getting closer, making you even more nervous. The sudden cheers getting louder, incision someone won. 

“Hey there, partner. I’d like to let you know that this little sugar is off limits” Boothill says, his voice coming directly behind you. 

You tense up when you see a revolver coming in your eyesight, pointing at the man. Terror strikes the man, frozen in fear. 

You could see him tremble, holding his hands out. Boothill chuckles when the man quickly walks away, almost tripping over his feet. That famous cocky smile on Boothill's face, facing you with amusement. 

“Was that necessary? Put that away, people are looking” You avoid, shoving his revolver into his pocket. 

“What’s happening, my love?” A familiar red hair asks, placing down your drink. 

“You were supposed to watch ‘er, she could have got hurt” Boothill grits, a glare sent Argenti’s way.

“Me? I went to get her a drink because you were stressing her out, starting a fight” Argenti says, you could see how he was starting to get annoyed. 

Argenti almost never gets mad, always so calm, but it was obvious Boothill’s antics were getting to him. The obvious conflict brewing between them, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere. 

 “Guys, it’s ok— let’s just go home” You says, grabbing their hands.

You take a sip of your drink, the alcohol sending a sweet flavor down your throat, your taste buds tingling. Argenti and Boothill share a look, lifting an eyebrow. Boothill chuckles, putting a hand on his hip.

“Of course, sugar~ let’s just go back home” Boothill says, walking past you. 

“What’s that for?” You ask, confusion dripping from your voice. 

Boothill looks over his shoulder, his teeth showing as he smiles brightly at. You could hear the quiet chuckle from Argenti, deciding not to question it. 

The way back home was quiet, the sound of romantic music playing quietly, the click of Boothill’s boots. Argenti hums quietly, he must know this song.

He seems at peace, even though he seemed pissed earlier. It looked like something was bothering him, his brows furring in concentration. 

Honestly, can you shut the flip up partner?” Boothill says, glaring at Argenti.

You snort, guess he’s still not able to cuss. Argenti continues to hum, opening your house door wide enough.

“Sugarplum~” Boothill draws out, circling around like you were his prey, his hands tracing around your hip.

Argenti leans in, kissing your lips. He rubs at your cheek, the smell of roses fill your head, the cologne he wears. 

“Boothill!” You shriek, feeling sharp teeth sink into your shoulders. 

A tongue swirls around the area, coating the area in a thin sheet of spit on your neck. You stare at Argenti with pleading eyes as Boothill nimble on your neck, leaving marks. 

“Let us mark you, sugar~” Boothill coos in your ear, licking at your earlobe. 

Argenti carries you to the couch, helping you out of your clothes. The metal of Boothill’s hand sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps covering your soft flesh. 

“Mmh, you don’t mind? We want to worship you, your beauty” Argenti says, parting your thighs. 

The tip of Argenti’s tongue licks at your clit, drinking in the juices that coat your cunt in a shiny layer. He hums into your clit, tongue swirling around the engorged bud. 

“Do you have to fiddling hog her? Dang voice restriction!” Boothill grunts, shoving Argenti’s head out the way. 

Boothill eagerly laps at your cunt, leaving no area unexplored. You moan, plucking his hat off his head. 

“Serves you right, learn your lesson, you can’t keep cussing in front of children” Argenti chuckles, pinching at your nipples. 

Boothill grumbles, it sounded muffled since his head was buried in your cunt. His cold hands grab at your thighs, squeezing the chub.

“Boothill!” You whine, his tongue plunging in your clenching hole.

A sharp stung could be felt on your thigh, Boothill chuckling when you glared down at him. 

“Just marking what’s mine” Boothill teases, continuing to lap at your cunt. 

Argenti trails kisses back down, spreading your thighs wider. His tongue slowly rubs at your clit while Boothill’s tongue plunges in and out of your soaked hole. 

The wet sounds fill the room, the occasional groans from Boothill when you pull at his hair. Argenti pulls from your clit, his fingers pressing on the bud. 

“Good girl, cum for us” Argenti says, his fingers rubbing at your clit fastly. 

You tense up, throwing your head back. You tense up, drenching Boothill’s face with your cum. 

“There you go~ so good for us, my sweet” Argenti says, rubbing spare hair from your eyes. 

“I wanna watch a movie” Boothill grins, acting like his lower half of his face isn’t soaked in your juices. 

He sits beside you, his tongue licking most of your juices from his face. Your face goes bright red in embarrassment. 

These idiots just ate you out and now they want to watch a movie?! Argenti grabs at the remote, putting one a cheesy romance movie. 

“This reminds me of us” Argenti says, pointing at a scene where two guys are fighting over the lady. 

She looked so tired of their shit, like she was about to smack the shit out of their head. It was honestly so funny, you snickering when the two guys in the movie let out a pained cry when she smacks their head and scolds them. 

“Boring! Let’s watch a cowboy movie, right sugar?” Boothill asks, looking over to you with a cocky grin. 

“Don’t you dare” you warn, a disgusted look on your face. 

“You love riding cowboys? Especially metal ones, right?” Boothill says, laughing hard when you shriek and hit his head, even Argenti laughs.

You wonder if that woman in the movie was you in another universe, she seemed to have the same reaction as you.  

Taglist: @sidhion @ihatelifesm @sneakylilbartender @missingtophat

[cosycafune]

NIGHTLY AFTERCARE; TOJI FUSHIGURO:

a summary of the chapter: it’s a rainy night and toji has just fucked you sore. usually, he grants you simple aftercare — but you want more. you want more; love is all you yearn for.

a synopsis of acts: nervousness, anxiety, nakedness, crying, sniffling, unestablished relationships, the aftermath of sex, a broken past, coldness, forbidden intimacy and potential more.

𖥔 ࣪ ꗃ⋆࣪

Sewn with the art of conflict, you stir within the thickness of your brother’s best friend’s grasp — planted in the homeliness of his arms. Arms you know are so painfully forbidden, particularly as you lay so soundly in your strawberry bedsheets — unsure of where to proceed.

Foolishly, you wanted the entirety of Toji’s unavailable heart — solely because he was your unforgiving first. Toji was the man that divulged within the pureness of you, freely stretching you out, capturing your delicate lips, plunging your withering purity with the thickness of his unrestrained cock.

Within your first time experiencing intimacy, he applied himself into expressing gentleness. A gentleness that pushed you into tears, unsure of how someone so emotionally connected could navigate themself into spewing all you wanted to hear.

Toji had all of you, completely at his mercy. At his mercy, your virgin self poetically divulged and deciphered by the prickliness of his nimble fingers. Fingers that strike an addictive pain within you. He had never cast himself into judging you, even with every tear you released when he shoved the girth of his cock into your inexperienced cunt.

“Y/n!” Toji lightly shouts, his fingers slithering around the suppleness of your waist — dancing around your belly piercing.

“T-Toji?” Shoving the meekness of your tone elsewhere, you convert yourself into a deciphered stoicism.

“Something’s up with you,” The bluntness of Toji’s voice stirs you into collecting guilt, unsure of if you wanted to bask in his temporary company.

“What do you mean?” Plastering naivety in your wavering vocals, you push your lips together with trepidation.

“I’m not an idiot, say it,” Wincing at the sly annoyance in Toji’s command, you burrow further within him — your stomach aching with irreversible nausea and guilt.

“I…feel,” Taking a deep breath, steadying your pathetic tears, you lull your wavering emotions, “Like I’m not good enough… for you.” Restricting the air in your lungs, you intake the outflux in Toji’s breathing.

“What do you mean?” Toji questions, aware that he knows where your mind is bound to travel — completely altering the strained dynamics of the two of you.

“I feel like I wasted my virginity sometimes because you don’t love me or want to claim me,” Sniffling, deprived of an aspect of your dignity, you intake Toji’s physique tighten around you.

“I’m your brother’s closest friend, you know damn well he wouldn’t accept me sleeping around with you,” Softly, Toji informs you — plastering a warming kiss upon your forehead.

A kiss that causes a lump to form within your throat, stealing away at your strained sanity.

“B-But, you don’t think of that when you are deep inside of me, teaching me new things,” With your lips trembling, you reveal the truthfulness of your thoughts to an unreadable Toji — your heart aching with an overwhelming pain.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, move, speak or regather yourself.

“I know that, but do you want more?” Indecisive, Toji’s flat tone grows coerced with emotions.

“Y-Yeah, but you only like me for one thing,” Weeping, you cast yourself into softening your wailing sobs, “If you knew I was a virgin, who has never had a boyfriend, why would you target me?” Pleading for a representative answer, you halt your quivering breaths.

“I like you for more, but it’s impossible for us to work when your brother told me to not go after you,” Becoming emotionally open, aside from his surface level nature, Toji knits himself into informing you of everything you didn’t want to hear.

“We’re old, stop it,” You mutter, your heart aching at Toji denying you because of the sly age gap between the two of you.

“You’re nineteen, going back to university whilst I’m running a billion dollar empire,” Toji’s eyes steer down to greet the suppressed nature of you, as every word of his adorns you with a poisonous venom.

“Then, why sleep with me?” Drawing out of Toji’s grasp, the plumpness of your breasts being adorned with cool air, you gasp as he pulls you back into his chest.

“Because I love you,” Halting at Toji’s announcement, your stomach churns at words you would never expect to flee from his lips.

“So, you take my virginity before taking me on a date and telling me that you like me?” Puffing your cheeks out, you suppress your smile, “You willingly watched me bleed the morning after, bought me plan b, but was scared to admit your feelings, Toji?” Scoffing, you intake the knot that floods his sculpted chest.

“I mean, I’m sorry, but you’re still going back to university soon, even if you do try to get more from me,” Feeling Toji’s cum stain your supple thighs, you drift your embarrassment towards the twinkling stars in the nocturnal sky.

“Your kids are running down my legs, be more serious before we cut this off and I never see you again.” Informing Toji with a stern nature, you listen to the agitated groan that slips from his lips — knowing that all he yearns for is for you to alter yourself for him.

“Okay, I’ll set up a first date for us,” Beaming at Toji’s relentless promise, you steer yourself into finally resonating with his fond heartbeat.

“This is all I’ve wanted to hear from you, but my brother’s for another day.” Muttering, you glimpse the beauty of the framed photograph of the two of you — settled upon your rosy-pink diary.

This is all you wanted, just for Toji to be more revealing and loving during aftercare. For him to tell you that he adores, cherishes and longs for your love and care.

—

do not copy any of my works and simply enjoy it. reblog all you want, but please be respectful of my work. all rights reserved, vampiified, 2024.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Good enough to Eat

Licking CW: bound reader, abduction, body worship (receiving), teasing, drugging, dub-con, body image issues

The reflection in the mirror glared at their body, turning in circles to fully appreciate how bad they looked in this outfit. It was such a stereotypical thing to do that (Reader) felt ashamed, but that didn't stop them, not when their skin was squishing out over the top of their jeans. Their best friend was waiting in the living room for them to hurry up, but every shirt they put on laid weird on their body, even their favorite band tee. It was just going to be one of those days.

(Reader) left the bathroom mopey, struggling to look happy. Their attempt failed completely when Vince pulled out his phone to take a picture of them.

"Not today V."

"What? Why?! We never get to hang out anymore, and I want some pictures of us." The man whined, jokingly pouting to hide his real disappointment.

"I'm just..." (Reader) tugged on their shirt subconsciously, "not feeling it."

Vince's eyes narrowed, his joking demeanor fading into an empty glare (Reader) had never seen before, worrying them. "I can't do this. I wanted to do this the right way, but you're pissing me off."

Before (Reader) could question their friend he shoved his fingers into their mouth, pressing a bitter tasting pill into their throat and forcing it down. They tried to jump back, but Vince held (Reader's) head, clasping their mouth shut until they swallowed and holding them still until it kicked in. First their muscles grew heavy, then (Reader) couldn't hold their eyes open, collapsing into Vince's arms.

(Reader) woke up hours later, completely naked and hands chained to the ceiling above them, arms twisted in an angle where they couldn't pull up and dangling just high enough for their toes to touch the floor. In the dark of the cellar, Vince stood in front of (Reader) with his arms crossed, a disappointed look on his handsome face.

"Vince? Where am I...?"

"Mmm.. my house." Vince was uncharacteristically upset, his voice cold and eyes weary with frustration.

"Why-?"

"You know, I had this whole date planned out for us. I was finally going to confess to you." He looked down, rubbing his hands together. "But you're so damn insecure, I know if I told you today that I've been in love with you for the past seven years you wouldn't have believed me."

A strange ache stabbed into (Reader's) heart; a conflicting mixture of his congestion causing it to skip a beat and pain from their anxiety. He was right, they didn't deserve his love. Ignoring the fact that he had just kidnapped them, Vince was the most attractive man (Reader) had ever seen off the big screen.

"Vince, I-"

"So, before I officially confess to you, I need you feeling better about yourself, so you accept me." Vince walked over, a sick smile creeping over his features. "You are so fucking beautiful. I've never met anyone as sexy as you."

"Vince, I'm sorry... If you let me go we can pretend like this never happened.."

He cocked his head. "Why would I want to do that? I finally have you all to myself, and you want me to pretend like I've never had the privilege to see you like this?"

(Reader) sniffled, ashamed, both by how exposed they were and by his sweet talking. "Please stop-"

"You don't believe me.. That really hurts my feelings, (Reader). It was bad enough hearing you criticize the person I love all the goddamn time, but even now you're looking at me like I'm a liar." He pressed his nose against their cheek, inhaling their scent. "Which is so unfair, when you look good enough to eat."

His sharp canines bit into (Reader's) neck as his rough hands caressed their body, rubbing their chest and the spot between their shoulder blades. (Reader) cried out, both in surprise and from pain, before squirming in discomfort as he ran his tongue over his teeth marks.

Vince seemed to enjoy the reaction he got from licking (Reader's) neck, because he moved down, chasing the shivers he was sending down their body. His calloused palms gripped (Reader's) flesh, digging his fingers into their soft body selfishly. His hot muscle left wet trails down (Reader's) goosebumps, greedily tasting their body.

He left hickies from his sucking and biting, bruising their nipples from enthusiasm. Every time he latched on it was hard enough to draw blood, but was quick to soothe the stinging with kisses, cleaning the red droplets with his tongue. Vince ignored (Reader's) pleas and whines, enraptured by the taste he had dreamt of for so long.

"You are so beautiful.." He groaned dreamily, pawing at himself through his pants as he planted butterfly kisses down to (Reader's) hip, turned on by their shudders under his feather soft touches. Sliding into his knees, Vince gazed up at (Reader) with lust. "Please say that you believe me now."

"Vince.." (Reader) was torn between their embarrassment and how good they felt.

His lips attached to their sensitive skin right next to their groin, tickling them. The area was so sensitive to the touch that they arched their spine to get their pelvis away from the teasing kisses, but lost their footing, rocking back into Vince's face.

The man continued licking and kissing everywhere but (Reader's) genitalia, encouraged by their responsiveness. He wouldn't gift them release, not until they felt have much he craved their body.

"Do you believe me now?" His heavy panting against their skin was almost as unbearable as his spider light brushing.

Desperate to be let down, (Reader) whined "Yes! I believe you.."

"Does that mean you'll let me be your man?" Another kiss, closer towards their painful arousal. (Reader's) thighs quivered and butterflies erupted in their belly.

"Yes!"

"Because you know that I love you?" The fluid leaking down (Reader's) leg was licked off hungrily.

"God, yes!"

"And you love me too?"

"Yes! I love you, I love you too, Vince!"

As soon as he got his confirmation, (Reader's) legs were draped over his shoulders.

(Reader's) toes curled as Vince's tongue swirled around their most delicate parts, drinking in their essence. His mouth devoured (Reader), crushing his face with their pelvis, pulling them harder into his jaw, hands on their buttocks pushing them in.

"Vince, I'm gonna cum.." (Reader) pathetically whimpered, feeling his tongue fuck them faster.

A wave a shame followed their climax, insecure suddenly over their orgasm. But that brief thought immediately dissipated as Vince didn't stop, taking all of their juices and continuing his assault on their sensitive nerves, pushing them past the point of pleasure. Tears poured from (Reader's) eyes as they tried to wiggle out of his iron grip.

But Vince continued until he came, pulling away to breathe as he moaned out, staining his jeans. His face returned to the kind looking Vince (Reader) knew and adored, smiling up at (Reader) sweetly as though he hadn't just abducted and assaulted (Reader).

"Thank you for accepting my feelings, gorgeous."

[inmyloveworld]

as usual (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~3.7k

synposis: the time for you to meet the Hard Deck, and the Daggers frequenting it, has finally come. but some digs on the oldest aviator of the bunch in front of his younger partner leave a tension between you that begs to be broken.

warnings: age gap (unspecified but in my mind was about 10 years), assumed alcohol consumption, allusions to anxiety, use of the pet name "bunny", jake is an instigator

a/n: this was NOT going to be this long in my head but once i got writing i could not stop.. enjoy some more self-indulgent comfort angst from me!

As usual, Bradley pulled up to your apartment complex right after a long day on base. And as usual, you were standing in the window like a pup waiting for its owner to come home. He made the comparison in earnest. It melted him to know someone was that excited to have him near, that you were that excited to have him near.

He could barely make it out of the Bronco before you were bounding out your door and down the stairs. Bradley had just rounded the passenger side when you reached him. The sinking sun somehow made your eyes sparkle brighter. Butterflies flew in his stomach, and a lovestruck grin spread across his face. Gentle hands caressed your hips as his caramel gaze took you in closely.

"Did you manage to lock the door?" Bradley teased. You softly grunted at the dig, feigning annoyance in a half frown. The front door and you were nothing if not eternal foes, and Bradley knew of this conflict too well.

"I resent that, I really do." His responding laugh was all it took to break your weak facade. A smile overtook you as you lit up once again to be in his presence. Your hands found home at the base of his neck as your lips greeted each other. Seconds moved in hours whenever you kissed Bradley Bradshaw. He made the noise of the world lift into a soft hum with every touch.

It was understandable that you whined whenever he pulled away. "We're gonna be late," Bradley bargained. Your mouth fell into a soft pout that he was happy to peck away into a smile, and into giggles once his lips found your cheeks, and nose, and temples.

"I thought you said we'd be late!" you laughed as you batted him away to slip into the passenger side. He held the door open for you, like the gentleman Carole had raised him to be. Then he bent to kiss you more softly, like the gentleman his father was.

"You are always worth it." You couldn't fight the flush that broke onto your cheeks to crowd the makeup already present. Blush served little purpose with Bradley lighting your cheeks aflame every chance he got. Nor highlighter, with the glow you seemed to emanate since the day he walked into your life.

His hand found home on your thigh, yours placed atop it to toy with his calloused fingers. The Bronco drove off to the famed bar where he and his naval companions flocked. Such companions were eager to meet the girl who settled their "Rooster" into domestic life.

"Cupid's sure been hard at work," Phoenix remarked upon catching her best friend cheesing at the texts you sent him. Whatever force in the world brought you to him, be it Cupid or God or Nick and Carole themselves, he was grateful. Never had he felt so complete.

"How was work today, bunny?" Bradley asked. A simple question most would roll their eyes at, you jumped to answer. You were eager to tell him of every detail: the pesky clientele, the interdepartmental dramas, even how poorly the coffee was brewed. Excitement ran through you and, by proxy, to Bradley. "Bunny" was a nod to the energy that filled you and energized others, much like the battery mascot.

Your anecdotes filled the minutes driving through the bustle of San Diego rush hour. Bradley glanced over at you every chance he got, adding in commentary where he saw fit but mostly admiring the expressions taking over your face.

He could listen to you ramble for hours, he was certain, as you did for him in his own moments of boundless vigor. An equal partnership seemed unattainable with the women he'd met through the years yet came easily with you.

What place did age have to stall a feeling like that?

-

Some last-minute Bronco kisses had you and Bradley walking into the Hard Deck five minutes behind schedule. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand tucked into the front pocket of your jeans to keep you snug against his side. Still, he let you lead the way, content to follow you wherever you found your feet.

You gawked at the space already half packed with people in uniform, a few civilians bridging the gaps. Various signs and regalia littered the space between windows. The perfect sunset view of the beach was on every wall. Miniature aircraft figures crowded the ceiling in permanent flight.

"Is this place for real?" you remarked, earning a kiss on your cheek from Bradley.

"That it is, bunny. As far back as my pops and Maverick," he answered, stopping as he caught his first familiar face. Bradley took the moment to lead you, bringing you to an open space at the bar. "And now in the hands of this lovely lady here. You remember-"

"Penny!" The excitement in your voice brightened the owner right up. Bradley's heart performed somersaults at your cheer. "This place is incredible!"

Penny tried to humble herself under your praise. "Hey, it's the nicest Navy daycare I could imagine." You giggled at the quip, making her break a smile. You quizzed her on her run of the bar as she pulled a draft for Bradley and mixed a margarita for you. The two of you initially met when Bradley brought you to Maverick's hangar. She was just as endeared then as she was now by your bright spirit and compassion for others.

Once you were settled with your drinks, you attempted to tip her out. Penny was quick to push the cash back at you with a wink. "On the house for you tonight. Call it my welcome gift." You must have thanked her half a dozen times as you moved across the bar. A small table against the wall was your target; somewhere to ground your drinks for when you inevitably got spotted-

"Bradshaw!" The time came sooner than you predicted. A brunette tagged with a name you'd heard too many times to count found her way to you. A man in true aviator glasses followed closely behind. Part of you tensed in anticipation. Still, your outgoing nature won over any resistance.

"Phoenix? Bradley has told me so much about you!" You reached out a hand to her. Her eyes slowly followed the gesture as if examining it.

Phoenix took her time to speak up. "So you're the one who's got Bradshaw off in la-la land?"

You blinked, trying to read into her tone. "I-I think so?"

"Phoenix, play nice," Bradley warned. She scoffed at him, finally grabbing your hand to shake.

"I haven't seen the old bird this happy in ages," Phoenix said as she met your eyes. A real smile tugged at her mouth. You were quick to mirror it as you relaxed. "Keep him that way; he flies better."

Bob followed up with his own introduction. It was hard for Bradley to contain his joy at the moment, even with the slight brows Phoenix threw his way. He hadn't told her the details of the age difference in passing; he hadn't thought it important. Bob was none the wiser, simply offering a game of darts to share amongst the four of them.

"Oh, I LOVE darts!" you exclaimed. "But be warned, it's rare that I actually hit the board."

Phoenix chuckled. "Your boy's not too good himself. We ought to split you apart so Bob and I are more evenly matched." Bradley rolled his eyes, though the interaction had his heart soaring. You were happy as can be getting to know his closest friends. They seemed happy as can be getting to know you.

Questions were passed between throws, Bob asking about your work and Phoenix asking about your relationship. It was the kindest form of interrogation you could've envisioned. Meanwhile, the empty pool table behind you was beckoning another group of aviators in your direction.

The tallest of the trio, a man with a square jaw and dark eyes, was quick to single you out. "Now, who's this pretty young thing you guys rounded up to play?"

You turned to make his acquaintance briefly, your usual cheery demeanor receding some. No person with words like that would get the better of you. Instead, you drew in a breath as you threw the last dart of your turn, hitting a triple ring in the process.

"Bradley!" you squealed. He drew you in happily as you jumped into his embrace. "Did you see?! Did you see?!"

An answer was pressed to your lips, leaving you breathless in the aftermath. Bradley hummed at your slightly dazed expression. "That's my girl."

He felt the stares of Harvard, Fanboy, and Coyote burning holes into the floral print shirt he adorned. No mind was paid to any of them, though; not until you solicited it yourself. "You must be more of Bradley's.. coworkers?"

The man of middle height held his hand out for you with a charming grin. "Lieutenant Javy Machado, or 'Coyote' if you'd rather." You were introduced to the other two, with Harvard taking some quizzical glances your way.

"I can't help but wonder, how'd you get shacked up with this fossil?" The audience around you laughed, Bradley included. He had mentioned he was a bit older than his team, giving rationale to the jest and the 'old bird' comment Phoenix made earlier. Still, something in these remarks began to itch you. You were quick to table the feeling, certain it was only your misunderstanding among old friends.

You went on to indulge them in the story of your mildly embarrassing meet-cute. A few other aviators popped in to make their introductions, Payback and Omaha namedly. It seemed that each of them, in due time, had to take their shot at ragging on Bradley's age. He brushed each one-liner off in spades, settling any greater debate with an amused chuckle rather than a defense.

The itch in you was replaced by a gnawing in your gut. You worked to suppress it as best as you could, wanting to make a perfect evening for your partner: the one who kissed you when you shot well in darts and pulled you to the piano to serenade you front and center.

But the words echoing in your ears began to shrink you in your bearings. Suddenly, you had little to say in response to any harmless question. You certainly had less to say as Harvard and Hangman were questioning why you were with Bradley "of all people". Bradley himself had gone to the bathroom, trusting you would be safe and at ease in the company of his friends. It was only upon his return that he was made to see how wrong he'd been.

Bob, the perfect wallflower, had noted the shift in your behavior. He stood by and watched as the dazzling person he was first introduced to started to lose their spark. The WSO watched as you tried to fake smiles and laugh along to the jokes cracked. None of it reached your gaze that began to dart around, as if looking for refuge. Bradley was clueless, too caught up in the moment of his worlds merging to notice one was falling back.

He returned from the bathroom and attempted to dart to your side, stopped only by Bob's light grip on his arm. "Rooster, something's up with your girl." Bradley froze. He scanned the bar, locking onto where you sat with a pair of his friends. Confusion filled him. The night had gone so well. You were getting along with everyone, even Hangman. What could possibly be wrong?

"Just trust me," Bob pleaded, practically seeing the calculations Bradley was attempting in his head. It was seeing your hands nervously fiddling together that confirmed to him Bob was right. He clapped his friend's shoulder, uttering a gracious thanks before making his way over to you.

"Mind if I cut in?" It was nothing more than a courtesy. Bradley would not let you stew in your own head a second longer. "I think we ought to be heading out soon, bunny."

Bradley outstretched his hand to you, which you gladly placed yours into. He pulled you up from the booth with ease and waved his goodbyes to the pair left at the table.

Hangman would not settle for courtesies. "Aww, come on, old man; can't you let her stay out past curfew?"

You barely had a breath to react before Bradley did with yet another chuckle. If nothing churned your stomach that night, the sound of his amusement at this running gag did. You managed your goodbyes to everyone in passing well enough as you exited the bar. The Bronco was a relieving and suffocating sight at the same time.

Silence: that was all Bradley had been given as he led you to his car. A frown fixed on his face. You were keeping a firm distance between the two of you where normally there would be none. Your fingers danced with each other in a nervous rhythm where normally they were laced with his own. Something was seriously wrong, but he hadn't the faintest idea as to what.

Bradley held the passenger door open for you, as usual, and had to hold back a gracious sigh as you let him. You would not so much as look at him since leaving his friends, but he held onto the simple gesture as a sign of hope.

He dared to lean in to catch your lips against his, only to be met by the soft skin of your cheek. Bradley stuttered backward. You had turned away from his kiss.

"Take me home, Rooster." An icy cold poured through him. You had met him in uniform, full with his "Rooster" embellishment, but had never once used the name. And he was starting to wish you never had, for the distant feeling it brought chilled him to the bone.

Bradley hopped into his seat and got the Bronco in motion toward your apartment. Maybe you needed the fresh air and the sights of the city to cool off, he thought. However, with each mile, the tension was growing thicker. He felt it in the silence walling you from him. He felt it as your quad contracted under his subconscious grip, so much that he was growing nauseous himself.

Bradley was a worrywort by default. It's why he hesitated in the air. It's why he hesitated with almost everything in his life. You had been the one piece of his existence that brought him such thoughtless bliss. Had he been too thoughtless to not notice where things were souring?

As quickly as you had raced down, you were flying up the stairs to your apartment. The thud of the passenger door slamming startled him. Bradley barely parked by the time you were halfway up the flight. He locked the doors and jogged up in the path you'd made.

His stature made it fairly easy to catch up to you. That, and the fumbling of your fingers with your key in the villainized deadbolt. You were cursing silently to yourself as you tried and failed to get the lock to turn just right. Tears began to blur your vision, making the simple task even more frustrating.

Bradley's voice was gentle, apologetic already. "Here, let me-"

"Just go home, Rooster; I don't need a fucking babysitter!"

Your response comes out sharp and cold. Your use of his callsign half an hour ago might have chilled him, but this sudden outburst froze him from the inside out. It wasn't long until you froze up yourself and realized the words you let fly.

"Whoa.. where did that come from?"

Bradley didn't receive an answer; not verbally, at least. The only response he received from you was the clutter of your keys against the ground as you tucked your chin into your chest. Soft whimpers began to shake your frame. Within seconds, your resolve gave way to desperate cries pouring from your throat. Bradley's heart cracked.

He moved into action, tucking you into his broad chest and letting you lean your weight into him. Light shushes and repetitions of "It's alright" rushed to console you. Bradley held you upright with one arm as he bent over to swipe your keys into his grasp.

"Come on; let's get inside, yeah?" he cooed as he stood back up. You said nothing and continued to cry into his white tank. Mascara stains were sure to form, but he couldn't care less.

Bradley got your door unlocked in a single try. He propped you safely against the wall as he locked the entry behind himself. You felt like you were floating with his help to get to the couch. There was no resistance or fight in you; only fear.

His hands were on your knees, rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin your jeans exposed. Bradley knelt down in front of you. He waited for you, any tell that you were ready to talk, as long as you needed.

You gathered a hiccuped breath as your sobs faded to sniffles. Your trembling hands reached for him, feeling the warmth of his grasp almost instantly. Bradley gingerly kissed your knuckles on each hand. "Talk to me, bunny." Head lifting, you finally met his worried stare. "What's going on?"

It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, as you tried to form the words, you felt a rush of embarrassment. How ridiculous was it to get so worked up over some lighthearted fun? There was no reason for you to have this sick feeling in your stomach over it.

"Hey," Bradley called, moving a hand up to hold your cheek. His thumb swept at the tears still pouring from your lash line. You hadn't noticed your line of sight drifting away from him with your train of thought. As you found his face again, you saw greater desperation. He ached to know, to help. "Talk to me. Please."

And you did. Grabbing onto his hand with both of yours, you released a heavy sigh. "Tonight was great. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. They all seem like really good people, a-and I'm glad you have them in your life to support you."

Bradley managed a sad smile. Even through your own pains, you were searching for the best to make of the situation for him. He squeezed your hands holding his to comfort you in letting the other shoe drop.

"But.. I-I know you're older than them. I'm sure that, that they make those jokes around you a lot, and did way before you met me. It just.." You stopped yourself, shaking your head as if to shake the thought away. "It's probably so stupid-"

"It's not stupid if it's got you this upset."

Oh, Bradley. The only man you'd ever encountered who genuinely yearned to empathize with you at every struggle or hardship. The person who encouraged you to feel things through in a healthy manner instead of immediately pointing blame at yourself for feeling it at all. No person at any age topped the level of emotional care and safety he provided you.

Your words started to flood out, mixing together in disarray. Yet, Bradley listened intently to every fragmented sentence you gave. "I care about you. So much, B; so much it's scary sometimes. And I don't ever think of the years between us because it's all meaningless, you know? The way I feel for you, and how I think you feel for me. We each have our shit sorted, there's no weird power dynamic bullshit going on."

He restrained a laugh at your frank vocabulary. It was one of the things he admired most about you. When your feelings spilled out, there was never a filter. You expressed yourself entirely authentically. That's why your earlier silence frightened him into his own.

That was not to say your troubles were easy for him to hear, because they weren't. Who wanted to hear that the person they loved ever doubted as such?

"All those jokes… I don't want your friends to not take me seriously. That I'm with you for any reason other than you make my life so much better just by being in it, and I hope to god I can do the same for you. I don't need you to take care of me, be my 'sugar daddy' or anything like that. And-" You pursed your lips as another sob caught in your throat.

Bradley leaned in to kiss your forehead, so tenderly it sent chills down your spine. Your lips parted to release that choked cry. "I-I was scared when you just.. just laughed with them, that, that you didn't take me seriously e-either."

The words were a knife in his chest. "Oh, baby, no," he nearly gasped. "No, no; I never have thought like that, bunny."

You began to cry once more; out of the feelings you'd held that evening, out of the faint insecurity you'd held the months you'd spent together, and out of relief to hear him reassure you. The mix of emotions was blowing you over.

"Can I come up there, baby? Can I hold you?" Your answer was in the frantic way you pulled at his hands. Bradley fell into your ragged loveseat in an instant, tugging you into his lap as you wept. He rubbed up and down your back and pressed kisses into your hair to soothe you.

His voice was warped with his own emotion when he spoke next. "I'm so sorry I ever made you doubt how I feel about you. You are worth so much more than your age." He cupped your cheek again to meet your watery gaze with his own.

"You're incredible. The way you navigate life so carefree and full of light, and how you pass that feeling onto everyone you meet. How you care about everyone you meet and effortlessly brighten their day. How you care about me so much that you're this worried that I don't know it."

Your tears rolled freely onto the skin of his fingers, your body jolting with hiccups. And Bradley thought you were every bit as beautiful as you'd ever been.

"But I do. And I will treasure that, I will treasure you, every day of my life." Your responding smile was the most welcome sight. It cleared up the dark clouds that were looming overhead to shine brightly on whatever was to come. As usual.

-

a/n: this was very VERY loosely proofread but i am open to feedback and suggestions! thank you all for reading <3

tags: @roosterforme, @avengersfan25