Note
I am going to The Club(TM) on Saturday for the first time with a couple friends do you have any advice :(
if u like drinking definitely do that lol. for sure improves the experience. usually when I go w friends we end up sitting on the patio talking to whichever strangers sit down which is honestly my favorite part so I recommend it lmao. I can only handle the dancing to incredibly loud music part when I'm appropriately intoxicated so I spend most of the rest of the time talking to people outside. I've had some incredible conversations with strangers at the club
ALSO if you're not into loud noises you should get like concert earplugs! you can get ones that just block excess noise so you can still like hear if someone says something into your ear but the music won't be blasting you. it makes it all MUCH more bearable
#i assume u have a club picked out but i exclusively go to gay clubs. im not sure if straight clubs have less interesting people?#my favorite drinks: pineapple Malibu (straight up tastes like pineapple juice)‚ bahama mama (a classic)‚ long island ice tea#(will fuck you up. lots of alcohol). my favorite drink tho is a grateful dead but most bartenders dont know it#so i only get it at my favorite bar. but its like a long island just with raspberry instead of lemon and coke. and its PURPLE#i also always bring a dab pen because weed helps me with anxiety and sensory shit and pain#you can also kind of use like wireless earbuds for ear plugs but I don't like doing that bc of the risk of losing them#i got a 2 pack on amazon for $10 but u can probably find some at Walmart or whatever
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Favorite View
Killer x gn!reader (afab) a/n: hopefully it's okay considering i wrote this slammered at the bar lmfao. also mo leannan and mo chridhe mean my love and my heart in old scots gaelic
“Killi, would you look at that view?” you said with a small gasp as you ran over to the window of the shared room the two of you were renting. Your crew was currently on some kind of resort island while the ship received repairs. They were deep repairs too, so everyone needed to be off the ship. Everyone spread out in the multiple resorts that the island had, wanting to try everything.
However, the only downside was that it was a wintery island, so you couldn’t exactly go outside and enjoy the sun too much without becoming absolutely frigid.
You felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle. “Mm, the view is nice, but I still think the view of you is better.” You snorted as Killer spoke, rolling your eyes. “You’re such a sap,” you mused, leaning into his touches.
“If it keeps snowing like this, we might end up getting stuck here. I think the only other two in this particular resort are Hip and Gig.”
You let out a gentle sigh as you felt his lips find their way to your neck, you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your skin. “That’s fine,” he mumbled against you. “I didn’t plan on meeting up with anyone tonight anyway.”
“Is that so,” you mused, pressing against him. You could already feel the man starting to get riled up. After all, he’d already taken his helmet off the moment the two of you entered the room. He had been wanting to jump you since the moment you two were alone. You weren’t going to complain, you wanted the same thing.
“Mhmm,” he hummed against your skin, pressing a kiss to the spot where your shoulder and neck met before biting it softly. You gasped softly, chuckling. “I’m not going to argue with that.” You turned your head, kissing him hard.
He let out a small growl against you. You turned, sliding your arms around his neck and he pressed you against the cool glass of the large window. You let out a small whimper when you touched it; between that and the heat radiating off the man before you, it felt really good.
You pulled away from him for a moment, both of you panting heavily. You could see that the heat of both of your bodies was already fogging the glass on the window. You wondered just how foggy it was going to get.
You dropped to your knees, surprising Killer slightly with your sudden movement and change of pace. Considering the fact that he had treated you with extra care the last time, you figured you’d return the favor this time. It didn’t take you long to pull the man out from his cloth prison and, you were right, he was rock hard already.
“Already this riled up?” You had a light tease to your voice and licked your lips slightly.
His face was already flushed and he was panting just from the sheer anticipation and excitement of seeing you down on your knees. “You just do things to me,” he mumbled.
You just grinned before pressing a kiss to his tip, mostly just to mess with him. You knew taking it slow drove him even more wild, which would pay off in the end for you. He grunted softly as you pressed another kiss to the base of his shaft before dragging your tongue along the side of it, listening as he let out a shaky breath. He put a hand on the glass window behind you to support himself as the other hand found its way into your hair, giving a light tug that made you groan a bit in response.
You couldn’t help but tease him, it was your favorite thing to do. Mostly because it made it harder for him to hold back, which is exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to go wild on you. So, you took his cock, slowly sliding it down your throat as you pressed your tongue against its underside. He let out a long groan. “Oh, you’re being slow on purpose,” he ground out, knowing exactly what you were doing. But, he fell for it every time.
Or maybe he couldn’t just say no to you. He looked down at you as you looked up to him and winked. He gripped your hair firmly and you felt your heart race as you pulled off of him. You were panting slightly as you looked up at him.
“Ah, ah,” he mused in his gravelly voice. It always grew deeper when he was riled up, making you so excited. “What do you think you’re doin’?” You could hear as his accent was slipping through, making your heart race.
“Open.” You obeyed, opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him. He grinned. “Good, mo leannan.” A shiver ran down your spine as he used the native tongue you both had. It wasn’t long before he had his cock deep inside your throat once more, both of you groaning as he did so. Your entire body felt like it was on fire with how turned on you were in this moment.
“Now, move.” Once again, you obeyed, beginning to move your head. He grunted, his grip tightening and pulling on your hair more, making you whimper around him. You moved your hands to his thighs to steady yourself as you found a good pace to bob your head.
Though, you wished it would-
Your thoughts were interrupted as he did the very thing you were thinking about. He began moving his own hips, thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as you let him essentially have his way with you, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Despite his rough movements, he was calculated enough not to actually cause you harm. Not that you’d be upset with a bit of aching from an activity like this.
Eventually, you could feel him twitching and his movements growing more erratic before his hips stilled as he shoved himself deep down your throat and came hard. Your eyes widened slightly as he reached so deep, but you welcomed it. When he pulled out, you made sure to swallow every bit, panting as you tried to recover for a moment.
He was panting as well, pulling you up so he could kiss you again. You hummed against him, wrapping your arms around him. “I always love it when you do that,” you mumble and he just grinned. He knew you liked it when he was rough, it was just pushing him to that point because he didn’t want to hurt you. Sometimes he forgot just how much you could really handle.
He pressed you against the glass once more and your entire body shivered and you whined. The shock of the cold only turned you on further and you could hardly stand it at this point. “Fuck, Killi. I need you,” you whined against him.
In one of the quickest fashions you’ve ever seen, he had your lower half completely clothing free. You yelped in surprise as the cooler air hit you, but more surprised when Killer turned you around and bent you over slightly. You pressed your warm face against the cold glass, eyes rolling back slightly as you whimpered.
At this point, you were sure he was doing this on purpose.
You shivered again as you felt his fingers trace along your folds, circling your clit. You let out a breathy moan, eyes rolling back slightly. “Killi,” you whined. You weren’t surprised that he was going to be the one teasing you now. You gasped, moaning loudly as he slipped one of his thick fingers inside, moving it around to start stretching you out.
It seemed he was just as impatient as you were because it wasn’t long before he had three fingers moving around inside of you, all kinds of noises of pleasure coming from you. However, between how turned on you were from earlier and the way he was handling you now, you could feel yourself being pushed towards the edge and that coil tightening from deep within your abdomen.
Only he pulled his fingers out before you could cum, making you whine in protest. “That was un-” You were cut off as you felt Killer begin to push himself inside of you, your words turning into nothing more than garbled moans. You leaned into the glass more, your eyes glued to the back of your head. Fuck, he always felt so good. Your toes curled a bit as your insides stretched for him and once he bottomed out, you were panting heavily, trying to keep your head from spinning too much yet.
“You’re doing well, mo chridhe,” he crooned in your ear in a low voice. All you could do was muster up some small moan in response, your brain already clouded with lust and the need to have him absolutely rail you against this window. His praises only riled you up more.
You opened your mouth to finally say something when he started to roll his hips, slowly pulling out of you before absolutely ramming himself back into you. You cried out, your entire body tingling as you felt that coil tighten and snap all at once, clenching around him as you came. You were panting heavily, your head spinning. “Better,” he teased lowly, playing off your statement from earlier that he had cut you off for. You just glanced at him over your shoulder, narrowing your eyes the best you could, but it only made him grin.
He enjoyed seeing you like this. The usual dominant doctor of the crew, a submissive and blubbering mess below him. And just for him. He leaned down, the movement somehow pushing himself deeper inside of you, forcing a mewl to come from you. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before he absolutely began to destroy you. His hips moved fast and rough, the squelching noise of him rapidly moving in and out accompanying the sounds of skin against skin bouncing off the walls around you.
Not to mention you were far from quiet. The moans and cries for the other slowly became less and less coherent with each thrust. His grunts and growls sending shivers down your spine as he also left hickies all over your neck and shoulders. You definitely weren't going to be able to cover those without being suspicious.
At this point the window was fogged apart from where you were touching it, but as soon as you moved slightly, whatever glass was newly exposed was instantly fogged up. Much like your mind right now. It also wasn't very cold anymore, you had completely warmed it up. You were also glad there was a blizzard, no one could see you getting your insides rearranged from down below.
Between Killer holding on to your hips and being pressed into the glass, you were glad for the support because you weren't sure that you'd be able to stand on your own.
You felt him begin to twitch inside of you before his hips stopped and he filled you up quite generously, you weren't long after, crying out as you did so. Both of you were panting but you noticed that Killer didn't seem done quite yet.
Oh man, you were going to sleep good tonight.
You felt his arm snake around and his hand gently wrap around your throat. Ah, fuck. Your heart started racing even faster, if that was even possible. He lifted you up, standing with you as he pounded in and out of you. The window where you had been pressed against already fogging back up.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, mind blank with the pure pleasure you were feeling. With his hand placement and the sheer force of his thrusts, he squeezed the sides of your neck to cut off your oxygen just a bit to give you that perfect high. You were a blubbering, drooling mess at this point. Your legs numb, body buzzing with pleasure as he had his way with you - and you wouldn't have it any other way.
You reached up behind you, grabbing at his hair and tugging it. Honestly, you were just moving without much thought. Killer let out a low groan as he bit into your shoulder roughly causing you to cry out his name. The first coherent thing you've said in the past half an hour.
He didn't last long this round, stilling his movements once more as he filled you up once again. You also came again, your head spinning rapidly as your body went slack against him. You were panting, trying to catch your breath. You felt Killer doing the same. He held on you you around your waist, his other hand on the window before you as he tried to keep both of you steady.
You mumbled something completely incoherent and you just felt him smile against your skin as he pressed soft kisses to the newest bite mark. That one wasn't going to be disappearing for a while.
After a few moments, Killer turned your face towards him and kissed you softly. “Mm, I think this view is my favorite,” he mumbled against you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you grinned.
“You're so cheesy.” You kissed him again, slowly gaining your strength back.
Honestly, if you were snowed in for a few days, you wouldn't exactly be upset about it.
#i didn't even go through and edit these btw#im so fuckin' gonezo garbonzo#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x you#killer#killer x reader#massacre soldier killer#one piece smut#am fics
164 notes
·
View notes
Text
the only thing we have to fuck is fear itself
rating: 18+
pairing: max phillips x f!reader
word count: 5309
summary: You get drunk at a happy hour and tell Max to his face you don’t find him scary at all. He takes that personally.
warnings/tags: drinking, like two seconds of scary vibes, smut, (secret) established relationship, work hard, play hard, have secret sex with your coworker even harder
a/n: I’m so sorry to FDR for butchering his quote for the sake of a title, but i like to think that horny bastard would have loved my smut.
🤍AO3 Link 🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!
Despite working at a place that was quite literally soul-sucking, your coworkers could throw one hell of a happy-hour.
There wasn’t a bartender in a ten mile radius from the office who didn’t know you all by name, didn’t shout a greeting over the tightly-packed house the instant you walked in. Rarely was it just a single crew member at the bars – you often got accused of moving in a pack like a five-headed hydra that could drink double its own weight in liquor, beer, and frosés – and being only two-fifths human, the Monster Squad was an alcoholic force to be reckoned with.
Maybe because you actively promoted unity amongst the species, like poster children for positive and “non-toxic human-demon relationships” HR kept encouraging in their Monday-Funday email blasts, but your little group was something of a legend in the area. You thought any notoriety was more likely due more to your faces plastered all over the bars’ trivia night winner boards, but in the office, people tended to stare. Trish, a siren from Santa Barbara, loved the attention, said it was good for her skin – gave her a “dewy” look. Nita, the only other human in your group besides you, disagreed with Ken (a quarter leprechaun on his mother’s side) when Ken claimed the whispering came from the sheer volume of nonsense that started around 4PM in the office on Fridays and continued until you all left the office. Ken was of the belief that the notoriety was actually infamy – to which he was promptly booed and had to buy the next round.
And yet, to yourself, to the quiet conversations you had in the bathroom mirror after two long island ice teas and whatever was in what the centaur bartender at Lucky’s called an “Ass Whooping”, you suspected there might be another reason the Monster Squad even had a name at all. Within your own fields, each of you were respectable – Ken and Trish were both heads of marketing and Nita oversaw a considerable team of engineers, with you of course a department leader over in legal – one member of your group was, let’s say, more well-known.
Well-known because he was the flashiest, the loudest, and certainly the most demonic of you all: Max Phillips, VP of sales, money-maker extraordinaire, and a fan-favorite amongst your Overlords, the rest of the sales team, and anyone with working and interested sex organs in the near vicinity.
To your complete and utter annoyance.
You don’t quite remember how you all came together, who brought who into the group, and when it was unanimously decided that you’d stop snatching up office workers like limes at $5 margarita night after Trish, but it was Max who kept you together, who set up the group chat (somehow mysteriously gathering all of your phone numbers after a very late night), who bullied anyone who responded to his weekly “winner winner liquid dinner” texts every Friday morning with a tepid maybe into coming out that night. He already seemed to know half of the bartenders in the city, all of whom were happy to send over a free round of tequila shots as a “thank you to Max’s friends”. While you’d never look a gift vampire in the mouth, you were suspicious of his influence. Was that vampire hypnosis real? Did he have a pack of lesser, baby vamps to send out to tenderize the hunting grounds?
One thing’s for sure, he definitely didn’t scare them into it.
“Has Halloween, like, changed for anyone else?” Nita grouched over her second Sangria Spritzer two hours into another fantabulous happy hour at Heel Clicks. The four of you were huddled into your comically small booth up on the landing near the back bar – of course there were other seats available but this had the best view, the closest access to your favorite bartender, and at some point, the shoulder-to-shoulder proximity served as a way to counteract the tipsy swaying.
Trish leaned around Ken, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“What do you mean?”
“I dunno,” Nita shrugged hopelessly. “It used to be one of my favorite holidays when I was a kid. I loved the candy, the costumes – all of it. But I really liked being scared the most.”
Ken sorted into his old-fashioned. “Well, if you’re still scared of things you were as a kid, Nit, I think you’ve got a bigger problem than seasonal preference.”
She elbows him and he knocks into Trish.
“Not like that . . . but, like, monster movies aren’t really scary anymore? I mean, I used to watch Ginger Snaps religiously around Halloween, but, uh, now that I know an actual werewolf and he’s the nicest little old man in accounting, I dunno . . . it’s just not the same.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble on monsters,” Ken shrugged. “But I personally cannot relate. As a member of the Free Folk, my people have always been welcomed, seen as bringers of good will towards man.”
“You know there’s eight movies where a leprechaun murders literally dozens of teenagers, right?” You turned to Ken over Nita, your entire right buttcheek hanging off the edge of the booth.
“Oh, yeah, baby Jennifer Aniston,” Trish mused, thinking. “If that’s what your uncle looks like, Ken, then I posit Halloween is still fucking creepy.”
“Halloween is definitely creepy and it sucks.” Your ringleader has returned with electric-green jello shots. Max Phillips carried a tray with one hand, his immaculate blue jacket gone to display firm forearms underneath his white, rolled-back sleeves. “Bunch up, kiddies, Daddy’s back with treats.”
Half the group groaned, the other squealed in delight.
Max hip-bumped you, his ravenous cologne immediately making you think unwise thoughts, as he pushed his way onto the bench absolutely not made for this many people. He looked back at you as he passed out the drinks.
“Now why are we all in agreement that Halloween is a lame holiday?”
“Nita claims that because she personally knows a werewolf – Ned, right? – she’s not scared of monster movies anymore.”
Max scoffed. “Well, there’s your problem right there. Werewolves were never scary to begin with.”
“What monster movies have you been watching?” Nita gaped at him. “Maybe it’s bad representation, but all the movie werewolves can tear you to shreds!”
Ken nodded solemnly. “This is why affirmative action is so important.”
Trish smacked him over the back of the head.
“So, what?” Max continued, crunching up the jello in its plastic cup. “Now that you know me, a vampire, you think all Dracula movies give blood-suckers a bad rap?”
“No, being a human-sized mosquito with too much hair gel is doing that all on its own.” You smirked, dead-eyed, at him. Behind you, Ken and Trish snorted so hard they almost spilled their drinks.
Max narrowed his eyes at you, in a look he only gave you when you wouldn’t let him ease around legal loopholes “for the good of the business”. Only Nita seemed to be oblivious.
“That’s a good point, Max.” She thoughtfully stirred her jello with her pinky, unsticking it from the sides of her cup. “I mean, I guess I never watched that many vampire movies to begin with.”
Max broke his heated staring contest with you to look around at Nita, elbow pressing up into your chest as he leaned forward on the table. “I can promise you, doll face, vampires have been and always will be more terrifying and lethal than werewolves.”
“Not the argument I think you want to make, mate,” Ken murmured as you shifted yourself to face Max entirely.
“Oh, yeah? Enlighten us all –,”
“Nope,” Trish called down the row, “we’re taking this shot before you two get into it again.”
“To Ned!” Ken yelled.
“To Ned!”
Plastic crunched, tongues slurped, as jello ungracefully slipped into every open mouth down the bench. You licked your lip, tip of your tongue green. Max watched the movement out of the corner of his eye.
“So, enlighten us, Max, why should we be so afraid of you?”
Max grinned out the side of his mouth. “One, I’ve seen more bite out of a pomeranian than one of those Tribbles. And two, whatever-wolves can only get it up once a month. I’m all monster, all the time, baby.”
At this, everyone groaned.
“Dollar to the Dick Jar!” Trish smacked her hand on the table.
“Here, here!”
Max pouted as he took a dollar out of his wallet and slammed it into the center of the table, payment towards tips or the bill or whoever suffered the most due to The Dick.
“Face it, buzz,” you shrugged as he put his wallet away. “You’re just not scary any more, if you ever were.”
“Is that right?”
Fuck, you were in a lot of trouble. Beneath the table, his thigh soaked yours in heat.
“That’s right.”
“You know what is really scary?” Ken muttered, digging around in his crushed up for the last remnants of jello. “Kelpies.”
“Ah – yes! They’ve got sloppy fangs covered in algae!”
“Hey – that’s my cousin you’re talking about!”
Heel Clicks was hands down one of your favorite bars in the area. Devoted to the local music scene in the area, the vibe was a mix of old 70s rock bands, modern steel, and whatever justified lots of mounted horns and hairy cow-skin stools. The drinks were great, seasonal too, and there was always live music on the patio out back. In a twist that you found particularly cool, the old rum-runners tunnels had been converted to comfortably spacious bathrooms in the basement. Behind the solid oak door, the noises from the above bar are nearly entirely muffled, making the slow descent to the bathroom something of an out-of-body experience when you’ve had a few and the sudden silence is almost an echo.
Plus, these fucking stairs are a death trap.
You embarrassingly clutched at the railing, the wooden stairs at far too sharp an angle even if you were sober as a judge, much less at a Monster Squad happy hour.
Stupid Max and his stupid drinks and his –
What was that?
You stand up right on the third to last step, listening.
In the half darkness in front of you, there are three paths available. To the left, employee storage, the lights above the door flickering, the sign reading “do not enter” pulsating in and out of visibility. To your right, another door, maybe an exit. Always unmarked and always locked every time your drunken curiosity got the better of you.
And across from the stairs were the bathrooms, left women, right for men.
God, what year is it? Shouldn’t it all just be gender-neutral? You think to yourself, a tad bit more aggressive than you’d usually oppose the gender binary – primarily to wash out the rising concern at the back of your neck.
You are alone down here. It’s obvious. It’s not like there’s that many places for some dastardly villain to hide. Four shut doors and three hallways. Unless some maniac was curled up under the stairs, you are the only person in the basement.
At least, the only person you can see.
You don’t realize how sweaty your hands are until you try to continue your way down the stairs. You take a step and nearly slip, the eyes you know are on you somehow laughing.
One blinking light. No where for anything to hide, so why are you so nervous? You are an adult woman, for god’s sakes. You make it to the floor, the most likely candidate for your demise behind you and –
The stairs creaked.
The empty stairs that you just walked down creaked and you nearly leap across the hallway to put space between you. Heart in your throat, you make the monumentally stupid decision and call out, “hello? Is anyone there?”
As if the serial killer was just going to announce himself, give up the whole element of surprise.
Blinking through the bleary haze of too many drinks, you take out your phone and flip on the light. A white beam chases back the encroaching darkness, a frantic worried ghost peering through the gloom. And yet, like you consciously know, there’s nothing there. But the darkness feels heavier, the eerie distant noise from the bar above so quiet and removed the sound is more of a memory – the idea of what comfort and community should sound like. But it’s not. It’s too far gone – if anything were to happen, it’d be hours before they found you. If they did at all.
“Oh my god,” you scold yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Get a fucking grip and go pee and then go back up those fucking stairs and –,”
Okay, that was definitely breathing.
Breathing, right behind you. Ragged, hungry, disembodied breathing, in your ear and your heart ricochets into your chest. Your own breath turns short, choppy, panic swelling into your ears, over your fingers. You think you might drop your phone, your fingers are so numb from fear, so you clutch tighter, the trembling throwing white light across the paneled wood in a craze.
Be rational, this is crazy, there is nothing down here!
The stairs snarl again and you squeak, all but bolting for the women’s bathroom, desperate to put at least some space between you and those fucking stairs, put some boundaries between –
The door is locked. When the fuck is this door ever locked?
Panic recedes to overwhelming rage because fuck, fuck, fuck, now you’re trapped in here – you can’t go back to the stairs – you rattle the handle, shaking the door against its lock –
“Fucking let me in!”
The light above the exit door goes out. And then the other. You throw all of your weight against the bathroom door. You claw at the handle, begging it to give way.
Fuck, fuck, fuck – you can hear the darkness breathing –
No, speaking – it’s saying something, chanting, mocking, calling out – calling out your name –
The door suddenly unlocks and you stumble forward – into something solid –
Its hands grab you and like a fucking fool, you played right into its trap.
It turns you, throws you up against the tile wall, its claws around your shoulders, cold tile against your cheek and you whimper. Whimper when you feel the soft pin-prick of fangs against the back of your neck – fuck, this is how it ends?? – and –
“Got you.”
That voice.
That condescending, snide, bratty, little –
You elbow the solid body behind you and Max lets out a puff of air, staggering back. You whip around, nearly snarling in his smirking, beautiful face. The bathroom is dark, black tiled walls and floors with a faux-wooden sink and dim lights across the top of the mirror. In the flushed orange light, his eyelashes encourage thick shadows under his eyes and in the collar of his throat. If it wasn’t for that insufferable smile, he’d look painted from thin brush strokes and heavy scarlet paint.
Caravaggio, eat your heart out.
“Max, what the fuck was that?”
He rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot on his chest where you hit him, at the top of his ribcage. “Oh, c’mon, it was just some fun. Saw you sneak off after you got Nita’s drink and thought I’d mess with you just a bit.”
You sigh, willing your heart to slow down, throwing your gaze to the ceiling and dropping your head against the tile.
“God, you asshole, I thought I was gonna die.” You swallow and move your hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I what?”
“You scared –,”
That smile, the crack of fangs across his mouth, widens, the bottom of his lip rolling back over the cut of his teeth, those brown eyes melting into a warm, obscene black, as he meets you hip first against the wall.
His hands climb over your waist, as though daring you to hit him again, and your thigh muscles tighten. Your hands instinctively trace the exposed skin left by his opened collar at the dip of his throat when he comes closer, chest pressing up against yours, nose against your temple.
Fuck, it shouldn’t be this easy for him. You sigh through your nose, eyes rolling shut, when he nips at your cheek.
“I think you were supposed to be mad at me.”
“I am,” you groan. “I’m livid. I’m enraged. I’m –,”
His thumb brushes your ribs – not tickling, not entirely touching, but just reminding. Reminding of the force behind his touch, behind his teeth.
“Baby girl,” he chuckles softly, the sound running down your neck like rain, “you’re melting in my arms.”
“This doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.” You focus on the softness of his hair between your fingers, the heat of the back of his neck beneath the pads of your fingertips – resolutely ignoring the radiating scent of his cologne coming from up under his collar. More than once had he come across you in his apartment bathroom, sniffing that bottle like some dopey perv looking for a quick fix. Of course, instead of admonishing you, he bent you over his sink and fucked the daylights out of you, his wrists singing with the smell of that cologne. Now he wore it to work wherever he wanted something from you, particularly to overlook some pesky lines of legalise.
In the hallowed darkness of the bar’s bathroom, he drops a single kiss just below your jaw, inches beneath your ear. He grumbles when your pulse there quickens, and again his fangs find a curve of skin to press against – a reminder.
Always reminding, always lurking, a threat without a promise.
And he knows exactly what that does to you.
You release a full body shudder when his hands drop lower, guiding you back against the wall, fingers rounding around your thighs. Like interlocking pieces, your bodies slide together, your arms curling around his neck, the heat of his chest branding yours as it forces you against the wall. You’re breathing all wrong again, but for different reasons this time. You catch a flash of the ink-well darkness of his eyes when he nuzzles out of your neck to admire the mess he has made of your skirt.
“Can I fuck you in this or is this thing too tight?” He asks, like he specifically didn’t get on his hands and knees and beg you to wear that gray pencil skirt only twelve hours earlier.
You lean up, snagging his bottom lip between your teeth, kissing him roughly and showing him he’s not the only one with a little bite. He groans softly, one hand curling into your hair at the base of your skull, and he licks you, from the front of your lips up to the valley of your mouth. He tastes like the sweetness of his whiskey n’ coke, his tongue rubbing the flexing muscle of yours, the sharpness of your molars. You could spend hours just sucking on his plush mouth.
Maybe he did scare you. Maybe he should have scared you more, the threat of anyone discovering your relationship a real danger to both of your careers. Maybe it should have scared you, how little you cared about any of that when he palmed your breast over your shirt.
You inhaled over his mouth, popping off his lips with a moan, his hand cupping you roughly as he dove in to suck marks on your neck. Every moment that passes, you feel your skin ratcheting up with heat, blood almost hot. He thumbs your perk nipple through your shirt and you arch your chest, his massive palm nearly cupping your ribs to your spine.
“Max, either you figure out how to fuck me in this skirt or you owe me a new one.”
“You want me to rip it off you?” He slurs, eyelids heavy, his thigh slides in between your knees, the fabric preventing him from going higher, to the place where you both need him. You groan in frustration and his hands squeeze your hips at the sound. “Tell me fast, baby, because I can’t–,”
“For the love of – just fucking lift it up–,” His hands fumble over yours as your fingers curl under the hem, his own want making that brilliant mind for numbers almost stupid. His warm fingers overwhelm your own as they push your skirt up your waist, and then dig around the line of your pantyhose.
“Jesus Christ, are you trying to Fort Knox me out of your pussy? Why are there so many layers?”
You hiss at him as you slide out of your heels and shove your nylons to the ground, hopping on one leg to take them off your feet. “It’s like you’ve never undressed me before.”
Freed of the chaos of your underthings, Max’s hands rush to his belt, the clinking of the metal sending shivers down your back and straight up your cunt. He doesn’t notice because he’s obsessively watching your thighs. “I’ve never undressed you with our coworkers a floor above us and probably becoming increasingly suspicious about where the fuck we are–,”
You take him by the back of the neck, hand clenching around the starch white of his shoulder. He comes to you, zipper digging into your hip bone as he pulls you up off your feet. For once that chatty mouth is quiet, open and wet with desire as he takes in your flushed face, the blood pumping under your tits. Max is nothing if not almost supernaturally consumed by the look, feel, texture, and taste of your tits.
The look on his face is one of those reasons you tend to throw caution to the wind, why your heart almost feels too big for your chest, whenever he’s around.
He hooks an arm around your low back, tilting your hips forward. You feel the heat of his cock somewhere below you and it takes all of your strength not to grind down.
“Max –,” he’s not even inside of you and you’re already begging. You bite down on his ear to stifle whatever was rising up your throat.
“Hang on, baby, I gotta make sure you . . .”
Using your shoulders as counterbalance, he holds himself up against the wet warmth of your cunt, breath stuttering as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds. That bratty aloofness is gone; he wants to sink so, so deep into you.
“Fuck, baby, I didn’t even get you ready – but you’re already so wet –,”
You don’t resist grinding down now and he knocks his shoulders forward, needing movement, but fighting against the urge to buck up into you, gasping from the feeling of your cunt.
“Please, Max, just –,”
“Yeah, I know, baby, okay, just, I gotta . . .”
He angles himself and you arch your back, unable to watch with the mess of your skirt around your waist, but he finds it, finds your opening, the place he loves to mark, and without any warning, thrusts his length up into you.
The stretch, the surprise, the ear-ringing split between being empty and then stuffed so full – you can’t help but moan so loudly, you sing to the ceiling. For a moment, your bodies hum with the stillness, the blood in your cunt pulsating around him, you claw at his broad shoulders, need him closer, needing that smell of him that haunts your empty bed as far inside of you as his cock is. His hips stutter and he presses one hand against the tile by your ribs, teeth clenched against the sensation.
“When I fuck you, every time feels like the first time. Every goddamn time.”
It’s not particularly the confession it could be, but you shake your head, clearing it of anything stupid like feelings for Max Phillips, your chin brushing his jaw, his nose against your ear.
“Then do it,” you whine. “Just fuck me, Max.”
With a groan that could be mistaken for a snarl, he lifts you both up right, pushing your hips down and spreading yourself over him. You lock your ankles around his back a second before he pulls out halfway, then to jerk back in with such force and precision your eyes roll to the back of your head. He sets a pace that has pleasure weaving a tight drum just under your stomach. Each sweaty thrust fires sparks up your spine. He really is so fucking good at this.
This is the release you need, you both need. Sure, it’s an after-effect of having a high-powered job, but it’s also more than that. Max fucking you is unfortunately very often the highlight of your day. He knows what you need, how you need it – how hard to drive his cock into you, it makes you tongue-tied and dizzy. The fast pump of his cock, how it feels to split you apart over and over again, the back zipper of your skirt digging into your back – it’s too fucking good.
“Don’t know where you get off giving me orders,” he grunts, the pounding of his hips into yours rapidly shoving you up your ascension. The slapping, wet noise in the empty room is obscene. “I’m a fucking VP, little girl, and I–,”
You tense your muscles around his cock and he fumbles, his knees buckling momentarily.
“Do not fucking bring up the org chart right now,” you hiss, your own edge yanked away when he stills. “I’m almost there–,”
Quicker than he’s been all night, Max lunges forward, mouth open and teeth bare. He bites your neck and then he bites you.
Fangs puncture your skin, not deep, but enough that your body is thrown into a messy coil of nerves and adrenaline. It knows you could die like this, even if you’ve only ever called the vampire a mosquito to his face, and triggering a self-preservation instinct, your body trembles from the sudden blast of sensation.
Your pupils dilate further than they were, your skin becomes overly aware of every drop of sweat, every flutter of hair, every rub of flesh – and your fucking nerve-endings feel like static, as if brushed by lightning.
Pleasure so-white hot it almost burns roars up your spine, slick coating his cock inside you, and you cry out. Wail in his ear. Begging him to make it better. To give you your release. The feel of his cock pounding up inside your now-overly ripe cunt brings tears to your eyes.
“Oh, fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck – Max, p-please –,”
“Can you handle it if I touch you?”
You shake your head. “Yes, yes, please, touch me.”
“You can’t keep screaming like that,” he scolds you breathlessly, the punch of his hips bouncing you against his cheek. For all his vampire stamina, the flush of exertion across his cheeks is truly staggering and a triumph for your ego. Flecks of blood dot his mouth. “Someone’s going to come looking.”
“I don’t care,” you groan, angling your hips to take more of him. His hand not on your back cups under your knee, tugging it higher up his torso. His pace is relentless, overwhelming – with his weight on top of you, and his cock up under you, inside you, you’re consumed by Max Phillips. “Whatever you do, d-don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“You scared I’m gonna?”
“Yes,” you whine. You can feel your heart pounding out its shape into your ribs.
“Good girl. And good girls get to fucking come.”
Balancing your increasingly limp body, he holds you up right, his hand snaking beneath your skirt, between the sweat of your thighs and his torso, and –
He thumbs that buzzing bundle of nerves, “come for me, baby”, and you do. You come screaming, the tension snapping, vision sparkling with stars, and you are shoved over the edge. You don’t know you’re wailing his name until he comes too, all concern for getting caught seemingly gone as he begs you to continue as he fills you up with his pearly, gooey cum:
“That’s right, say my name. Say my fucking name, sweetheart.”
His hips thrust weakly, some instinct choking him until he makes sure every drop of him stays in you. You’re going to be dripping for hours.
His skin is fire-hot beneath his starched white shirt. You’ll be thinking about that for days afterward when you see him in the hallways of the office.
This is what scares you the most. When you realize it's over and neither one of you want it to be.
Shaking from exertion, Max slowly sets you down, unwinding your legs from his waist, your ankles trembling against the cold tile. You couldn’t imagine putting your nylons back on, the thought of that pressure against the curve of your lower stomach while you are so full of his cum practically unbearable.
He lifts his head from your neck, eyes intentionally avoiding you as he inspects where he bit you, breath coming in ragged, long gasps. Sweat darkens the hair at his temple and that post-fuck blush is staggeringly gorgeous on him. He pricks his thumb on the sharp edge of his fangs and with a scarlet bead balanced on his thumb, he smears his blood against the puncture wounds, like someone would wipe dirt away from a loved one’s skin.
It doesn’t really hurt, but the effects leave your neck tingling. You’d never say this out loud, but you fucking loved when he did that.
He steps away without looking at you, giving you time to adjust your skirt, your hair in the mirror. You help him straighten his collar because it’s not like he can use the mirror to check himself.
He grins, the flush fading far too rapidly from his cheeks.
“What are you going to tell them?” You nod to the stairs on the other side of the wall. “This can’t look good for us.”
“You got attacked by a werewolf on the way to the bathroom. I saved you.”
“Thought you said werewolves weren’t scary.”
He shakes his head, smirking, then presses a kiss to your temple. “Just said I was the bigger monster between the two of us.”
“My hero.” You turn your head until his lips drink in yours.
It is dangerous, your feelings for him.
He taps you on the butt, pulling away. The lines around his eyes do an excellent job of masking the hurt in the brownness of his eyes.
“Gimme five, then you come up. Can’t have you looking so completely debauched.”
He kisses you again, betraying whatever amounted to “cool and collected” he attempted for, and without another word, he slides out the door.
His smell lingers in the air long after he does. The throbbing of your cunt also serves as a fantastically bitter reminder.
You go back to the mirror because yes, you could not have been more obvious if you were wearing a sign that said, “hi, yes, I did just get my back blown out.” You try to fold your hair around your ears at least a dozen times before pulling it back in what you hope to be a casual pony-tail. You toss your nylons into the trash can, pleading that the “oh, I tore them in the bathroom” excuse might hold an ounce of water.
You think about what’s waiting for you a floor up and your stomach clenches.
Fucking Max could upset the dynamics of your little group, your little Monster Squad. Whatever the stupid office bylines were, your happy-hour social group is one of the bright spots in your life, especially while working at a place run by those bastard Overlords.
And Max knew that. He didn’t want to risk your long-term happiness for his short-term.
Max didn’t scare you because he was a monster.
He scared you precisely because he wasn’t.
You open the bathroom door and return to the world.
#max phillips#max phillips x reader#max phillips x you#max phillips fanfiction#max phillips x f!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#bloodsucking bastards#max phillips smut#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal characters
293 notes
·
View notes
Text
a continuation of things that i think happen in my favorite fucked up silly little city (gotham)
• In hosptials in Gotham there’s another wing dedicated to super villain attacks Like how theres the ED, NICU, L&D, ICU, etc., theres another branch called Excessive Villain Attack Department (for) Emergencies. Also known as EVADE for short. it’s a brag to say you work in EVADE for doctors/nurses because A. the pay is ridiculously good, and B. how much extra stuff you had to learn to work there. People who work in EVADE have to go through weekly psych evaluations as well as physical testing to make sure they are still fit for duty.
• there are EVADE pop ups all around gotham so it’s citizens ares never more than 5 minutes away from medical attention. You have to work at a pop up before you’re allowed to work in EVADE in a real hosptial. People say working the pop ups is a lot harder and a lot nore stressfull, because people can come to you in really any condition out there.
• Similar to how kids in some areas cant wear certain colors like red or blue to school because of gang affiliation, gothamite students cannot wear anything superhero, vigilante or villain adjacent. No birds, bats, clowns, etc. Its a way for schools to try and stop kids from being targetted by their peers/ crazy adults who will attack them for supporting a specific person or party. Hero or otherwise.
• A lot of mom and pop diners/townie bars have foods named after vigilantes and specialty drinks named after villains. Some examples are:
Red Hoods Hot Chicken and Mac: bufallo mac and chicken with house hot sauce, so hot and tasty it will bring tears to your eyes! (this is true. jason tried it and he literally couldn’t feel his face. He couldn’t tell if he was blinking or not. Dick swears up and down he wasn’t.)
Nightwings: boneless chicken wings with a honey barbecue dry rub, with bleu cheese dipping sauce and chips and a blue corn dip. Dick can and will order 4 and eat them all by himself in one sitting.
Robins Eggs Breakfast combo: 2 sunny side up eggs, strawberry french toast, vegetarian sausage, house salad and an OJ. They tried to make it vegan but no one in Gotham wants breakfast without eggs. Robin said he appreciates the thought anyway. He is very smug and protective of his meal and the restaurant that made it. When he has the day shft he stops by there for breakfast, which isn’t often but still.
Signal soup: a classic squash soup, house focaccia and a garden salad. Its a seasonal meal that comes around every fall, and sells out almost every day for the entire season.
The Scarecrow: literally a long island iced tea with black liqueur in a martini glass with 3 olives. It tastes fucking horrible but will get you beyond hammered
Poison Ivy: shot of pochteca lime liqueur and pink whitney. Very tasty.
Regulator: its a blue margarita with coconut milk in it. Its a little sweet but its yummy. It’s common to black out on these because you cant taste the alch and by the time it hits you its too late and its the next morning and your naked in a strangers bed. Darn those regulators for a night you wont remember! at least the guy is handsome…
• See also the Condiment King challenge: A pint size glass of equal parts ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, mayonnaise, hot sauce, soy sauce, honey mustard, sweet and sour, bbq, salsa, fish sauce, vinegar, ranch, and wasabi. Hell in a cup! If you can drink it within 10 minutes without throwing up, you eat free at the dinner for a month and you get a t shirt that says “I completed the Condiment King challenge at Jimbo’s Dinner!” With a poorly drawn picture of condiment king on it. There has only been one winner: Timothy Drake. Jason dared him to try it after he hadnt slept in 3 days. Tim didnt puke, but Jason did. There were threats of violence if Tim ever told anyone that. Tim didn’t believe him, told Dick and magically ended up with a broken finger. “No AlfredI have NOOOOOO idea how it happened! Must’ve had a bad fall on patrol :3”
• taxes in gotham are shit-your-pants-when-you-see-it-the-first-time high. Gotham has to be able to pay for all the damages somehow, despite Bruce Wayne paying for about 15% of those damages out of pocket, its still not enough to stop prices from skyrocketing. To try and combat this, there is a Gala held anually for the top 10% of Gotham to fundraise for emergency city repairs. It helps a lot but doesn’t solve the problem.
#ofc vi writes too#headcanon#biblically accurate headcanons#dc#dc comics#batman#robin#red hood#nightwing#gotham#gotham is like my little snow globe that i shake to see what happens but instead of snow falling its actually mass destruction <3
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
💥 DIRTY TALK 💥 bakugo x reader
Smut,fluff,dirty talk,Slightly public. 18+ guys,and gals 😽
how it got started you were unsure,but he began teasing you more with his words rather than with his hands.
Some of the things he said embarrassed you,weather or not it was whispered in public.
Other things crawled down your spine tingling in your lower belly. Lust blocking with in you.
Your brain and body were surprisingly working together as he confused and teased you with his new cues and words.
Teasing you in public was one of his favorites. The dark embarrassed blush that came so quickly. He couldn't get enough of it.
"look at you (y/n).you a sweet good girl to everyone". Bakugo began,eyeing some of the crowd around trying to get you, eyeing around as well to see what he was looking at," it would really be a shame if I had to taint your Pyrenees in front of them~, now wouldn't it?
He'd whisper real close to your ear so only you could hear him. The easy his voice curled inside your head made something little in you alight with arousal.
"your looking really cute in that new skirt". "Would you mind if I take an look underneath"?,he purred innocently, how about I take my hand and make you feel good? Stroke your folds through these panties and make a nice wet spot with your arousal~.
Bakugo started scenes.in public sweetly, like he was complementing something about you but at the and it twisted with his deeper darker desires for you. but when you were at home his words were definitely out going,getting right to the point. Sometimes you wondered of he'd take you right there.
" that adds is looking mighty fine there (y/n). What's your secret?", he winked at you across the island bar in the kitchen, I think its your shaking those hips to the beat. Trying to seduce me~. Bakugo got up from his seat and rounded the kitchen island to get to you. Your little charm worked but backfired. "I'm gonna enjoy bending you aver this counter and taking this cute butt".
At times he kept his promise of pleasure. Making that ache of pleasure he started go away. But not for good no,no. You craved him more now because you can't get his words out of your head. And he brought you to the bedroom making things worse for your panties.
Hed give you Pat names. Calling you sweetheart,darling,princess and so much more.The way you responded to them only encouraged him further.
Bakugo also encouraged you to be loud and beg for him, and with the way he's been acting lately its not that hard.
" you live me this (y/n)?",When I fill you deeply?", make your brain mush and your body quiver just from one move. He asked you,not expecting an true answer He specially started thrusting into you from the behind while he whispers in your ear. What me to male you louder? To make you cry out with all those pretty moans and mewls that are ment for me?" I think you do~."
His words could reach vulgar and stressed as he tried to keep a talking as he made love with you.No longer keeping up that posh nonsense they some how made you wet and embarrassed no matter the setting. Underneath all that,there was the rough man you fell in love with a long time ago.
"Fuck",bakugo groaned,loving the way you felt around his cock," your pussy feels so fucking good around me like this. so tight and well...all for me~."
When he comes he's surprisingly quiet other than his usual short curses or groans.but his eyes tell a different story if your looking right at him. They're warm you from the inside out just as your climax over comes your being.
Bakugo accepted cuddles after sex,glad to have a break from the words. Going back to the "Actions Speak Louder Than Words" motivation. Though he whispered to you before you fell asleep or before you left the cuddly mindset.
"do you feel better sweetheart?" ill kiss every aching mark that I left on your body if you want", his voice soft and concerned for you. No longer set on arousing you.But making you fell loved more than anything.
hi guys I'm sorry this took so long its just been a really stressful week and I've been trying to get this done to so its just been long I have another on coming so plz bear with me. Bye😽
#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#fluff#shameless smut#smut#public stuff#y'all know the rest 😸#Pillow fluff#Kittyfuckincheshire
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 22
Note: This chapter contains explicit sexual content.
Taglist: @hom3landr @theaudacitytowrite @lover1307
“So is it true?” you ask suddenly.
You’re seated on the sofa in Black Noir’s living room as John scrounges together dinner for the two of you. And it really is scrounging — it is blatantly obvious that John was never taught to operate a microwave, a truth that is simultaneously tragic and funny by virtue of being so fucked up.
Still, you can tell he is making a genuine effort, just like you could tell by the way he laid out clean clothes for you and bundled you up in a blanket before starting on dinner. Even though he hardly knows how, John is doing his best to take special care of you in the aftermath of your captivity.
In the kitchen, John freezes at the sound of your words. After what Vogelbaum had said to you back at the lab, he knew it would only be a matter of time before you asked a question like this. And, frankly, it terrified him because, once he tells you about all the shit he’s done… what if you don’t like him anymore?
John forces himself to take a deep breath before he turns to face you. He made a promise that he would never, EVER, lie to you, no holds barred, flaws and all — and, by God, he is going to abide by it.
“Is what true?” John responds, answering your question with a question.
“Well… Jonah Vogelbaum said you killed a lot people,” you say, seeing John visibly wince at your words. “Is that true?”
The captain of The Seven walks around the kitchen island, enters the living room, and sits down on the couch alongside you. After a long moment he answers, “Yes, it’s true.”
“H-how many?” you ask, your heart rate beginning to pick up as John’s words sink in. What if you escaped one danger just to end up faced with another? And you don’t feel any better when his next words are,
“I have no fucking idea.” At this, John puts his face in his hands. “Too many… way too goddamn many. Sometimes I lose my temper in the heat of the moment, like today… but usually it’s an accident.”
Usually? you think to yourself. There’s a “usual” way he kills people?! Forcing yourself to push down your panicked thoughts until you get all the facts, you ask, “What kind of accident?”
The Supe bows his head silently, eyes shut as he revisits memory after painful memory. After a beat of silence John says, “Like one time, in th-in the Bad Room… I tried to give my teacher a hug, but I… I squeezed too tightly. I broke her spine, and sh-she died.”
“Jesus Christ!” you blurt out. “And none of this was ever made public?”
“Of course not!” answers John with a mirthless laugh. “No matter how many people Vought’s Supes hurt, the company doesn’t fucking care… anything to protect that bottom line.”
It wasn’t just Mom and Dad, you realize now. For decades, Vought’s been covering up the crimes of the company AND its employees. They have been selling the American public on a lie, when all along they cared more about profits than people.
And John might be the best (or worst) example of all — raised in a lab, by people with no conscience, tortured and desensitized to the value of human life. America’s favorite hero, with the potential to become the entire world’s greatest enemy.
But it’s only potential. You see that now, by the way he’s risked life and limb to protect one life — yours. The way he’s tried so hard to make you feel comfortable and safe, and the way he’s sitting next to you now with his head buried into his hands, body shuddering as waves of emotion crash over his shoulders.
“I want to be different, Y/N,” John says now, in a near-whisper. “I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
And with every fiber of your being, you know he’s telling the truth — you believe him. So you outstretch your hand and place it on John’s knee. The Supe lowers his hands and looks over at you, his expression changing rapidly from fearful to hopeful to wistful and back.
“Well, I have good news,” you say. “It’s not too late for you to start over.”
“With you?” John asks, the vulnerability in his voice cutting, like a chainsaw to the heart.
“Yes, with me,” you reply, offering a small smile. “Like you said, we go together, right?” [continued on AO3]
#ao3 writer#fanfic#the homelander#homelander the boys#homelander x you#homelander x reader#homelander x y/n#homelander#the boys tv#the boys#the boys smut#the boys fanfic#the boys amazon
31 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey do you know any current really good Ereri fics you could recommend??
hi hello ty for sending ask :)
not all of them are ongoing but have some of my favorites:
Enigma by Alias_InsertName
144,262 words
Where their story begins underground and not separated by bars.
Or Levi and Eren met and fell in love years before the attack on Wall Maria.
The same story, another beginning.
The Mercy of Paradis by gazastripping
The Rumbling is over, and the world outside of Paradis is dead.
Ymir seeks a newfound freedom by etching her soul into Historia’s newborn child. Her exit shatters the Paths, lifting the curse from all remaining shifters, including Eren Jaeger, who hadn't expected his own survival. Ripped out from the carcass of flesh, Eren is taken back to Paradis and imprisoned—possibly for life.
Winter freezes the land, causing uneasiness amongst the island. Having formed a new, aggressive political movement of the state, Jaegerists defend Eren’s right to freedom now that their martyr is no longer facing imminent death at 23. A court date is set later in fall.
Eren does not believe in his own freedom anymore. But when he finds out that Levi’s sole vote against Eren's publicly debated execution holds the most power, he begins to wonder why Levi would speak for him a second time—and whether he regrets the first.
a life time with you by anewkindofthrill
2,450 words
Levi has promised to kill Eren if he goes wild. Yet it would have been nice to spend more time with him.
Repeating History by RosyLilac
253,386 words
Levi had always been a sucker for those gem-like eyes. Those eyes beseeched him to do their bidding; from smuggling literal horseshit for fertilizing his precious garden, to adopting three kids and a teenager without Levi putting the ring on him let alone growing the balls to confess yet ("It's been 18 years, Levi," Farlan reminded him, the long-suffering witness). And the effect didn’t lessen when those eyes were as big as double his head and the owner now a fifteen meter of bone-white, bare-assed, hammer-swinging juggernaut currently begging to be allowed to cross the sodding ocean to meet up with his psycho older nephew and conduct a peace summit with delegations from all over the world.
Perge Sequar, Pari Passu by SinisterAmix, 135,679 words
It’s been six years since our last expedition outside Wall Maria, and the circumstances have changed. We have no idea where our enemies are located, or how far, and the only way to remedy that is to send out scouts to try and remap the surrounding territory as best as we can. Four small units will depart from the Walls and head north, south, east, and west to survey the layout and the titan demographic. It will be vital if we ever want to have a foothold in a world we’re oblivious to,” Erwin continued slowly. His eyes scanned everyone at the table before adding, “And that's why I've specifically requested each and every one of you.”
Or: Levi and Eren are assigned a lengthy cartography mission outside the Walls and pick up on the little things. Eren also does some reckless dumbass shit and Levi just wants to get back in one piece.
The Ship of Freedom by SaZB
176,458 words
When Levi Ackerman boarded the Titanic on April 10, 1912, he expected warm meals, soft pillows, great service and running water. All luxurious things the Titanic boasted it could offer on its journey across the Atlantic Ocean, even for the low-class passengers like Levi.
What Levi did not expect was what could only be described as an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object in the form of a young, snobby 1st class passenger named Eren Jäger. And Levi certainly did not expect falling in love with Eren so quickly it felt like exactly that - falling.
Augenfresser by teke, 75,455 words
Monsters did not like to hide under beds, as his father had told him. No; he found the monster hiding in his closet.
Misguided Ghosts by mandrs
134,792 words
As an outcast at his high school, Eren Jaeger is desperate to belong in a story that doesn’t feel like his own. No matter how hard he tries to fit in, he’s always felt different. But when he sees an ad seeking a guitar player, everything changes.
Through jam sessions and late-night conversations over make-shift meals and Budwisers, Eren begins the journey of unlocking a piece of himself that he never knew existed.
#ereri#attack on titan#riren#rivaere#levi ackerman#shingeki no kyojin#eren yeager#aot fanfic#ereri fanfic#fanfic reccomendation
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
HELLOOO its the one who ask about your fics again lol (sorry if I'm bothering you )
Since it's Ukyo's birthday, please tell me what make you like Ukyo as a character ( why notice him in a vast amount of people in dr stone and when did you know that you like him) have a nice day (can we please have an estimate time when you'll post a new ff - if there isn't it's fine! Please take your time!! And I AM SOOOO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT you will consider writing a sequel to Ocean Tide! I can wait for a year or 2 tbh as long as you're still writing and okay in life)
(Don’t worry about it, I love getting asks!)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE CHARACTER EVER!!
As for why I came to like Ukyou so much—it’s kind of related to writing him. Me and a friend were co-writing something for fun, and he turned into a major character. I ended up in love with writing him and his perspective.
I got attached to him because (in my interpretation of him) he is a character that values peace above all else—to the point of refusing to engage in conflict and looking for every alternative possible, which is something that can end up a flaw (backed up by his actions in Tsukasa’s Empire and to an extent in the treasure island arc). While in Tsukasa’s Empire, he never really had his allegiance questioned—something I like to attribute to his ability to keep his emotions in check and hidden behind a mask (or a smile). In that arc, his moral code gets backed into a corner. He turns a blind eye to Tsukasa shattering statues and, knowing he was horribly outmatched if he were to act out, tried (and failed) to tell himself it wasn’t equal to murder.
That kind of leads up to one of my favorite scenes in the manga: Chapter 73 and 74, when Ukyou talks to Senkuu over the phone. I feel like that scene is where Ukyou knew that his only chance at doing the right thing and succeeding, rather than opposing Tsukasa on his own and recklessly, was to hope that Senkuu was someone good. (I tend to have this in their dynamic when I write them a lot, with Senkuu being Ukyou’s hope and lifeline and confidence that they could do anything (even saving the world). And with Ukyou being Senkuu’s reassurance and the calm to his chaos.)
I think I loved Ukyou when I realized he was a character that understood the world’s darkness and was afraid—not of the darkness, but of the harsh decision between self-preservation and honoring his own beliefs and morals. He’s surprisingly realistic as a character, who keeps hoping for the best even when he falters, but can tell the difference between realistic and unrealistic expectations. (Which, when Senkuu promised, delivered, and then kept going far past the bar and the standards Ukyou held while at the same time working hard to make his goals happen, makes Ukyou feel grateful to have met Senkuu at all. He doesn’t admit it, but I like to think Ukyou felt like Senkuu saved him. And maybe that’s how Ukyou starts to fall a little bit in love with him.)
That turned into an essay, but I’ve been thinking about them for way too long and they continue to surprise me. Ukyou especially is just a character I’m forever going to be attached to. I love the entire Dr. Stone cast, but I just eat up the crumbs from the manga and anime, haha
As for when I’ll have a new fic, I can’t really give an estimate on that. I’m definitely a planner, but I’ve also been unable to write a lot lately (I’m hoping to work out a better pace with writing and work, since I’m a little bit sporadic despite all the planning I do). I’ll definitely remember to post here when I have a new fic, though! I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed reading them <3 It makes my day.
I hope you have a wonderful time, whatever part of the day it is for you! It’s a good night for me, thank you for the ask!
#dr stone#happy birthday ukyou#I’ll never get tired of putting them in situations#also every time I talk about him I end up with an essay and I will never be embarrassed about it#asks#ukyo saionji#senku ishigami
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
So we went to this theme park in Waterloo, Iowa. Lost Island. It started as a water park but now they have a theme park across the street. Opened a year ago. It's so cool, they put lots of thought into it! They have "realms" like water, fire, spirit, earth, air..
The spirit one is a bunch of kiddie rides and playground stuff. Each realm has a cool play feature. The fire has a fountain, theres 4 spots to place your hands that activate special parts of the fountain. And of course if all are activated at once, you get a bit of a show. The air realm has some music and more play stuff. There's splash pads and the earth realm has a sand pit with fossil features to uncover.
They have their own characters! And the app!!
They have an interactive app, and if you're one of those people who like to collect medals and arbitrary checkpoint things, you'll love it. Theres dozens of medals to earn in the app, and the animation is beautiful.
They have a 3D shoot-em cart ride. It keeps score and shows you the results. Its got a good story, not just the ride, but the whole park. You get bits and pieces of the lore on each ride. Its very cool. And the 3D ride has animatronics, since they're new they look SO good.
And also the rides are nice. More comfy and safe than some of the ones at Adventureland.
Like Adventureland used to have a log ride. You hop onto these constantly moving flumes, straddle a bench and hold on to slippery metal bars on the side. Then you go down two coaster hills.
This one had seat belts, covered bars and a board to brace your feet. The other log ride, there was no traction or support whatsoever.
And we got moderately wet. A nice even spray. Very nice.
This place needs more attention. It was totally dead. There were more staff than guests about.
Speaking of which, the staff were lovely. They were very diligent in doing their checklist duties. And they were all nice. Some were fun.
The only thing i wasnt impressed with was the food. They had some gourmet sounding shit, but... Some of it was super lackluster. Not all of it though. The noodle bowl was good. Expensive though.
Also the drink choices. The tea was the most disgusting thing ever, no one carried sweetener and the water tasted weird. I got diet coke out of desperation..
Also if you buy a souvenir cup, its free refills. So thats nice. Usually theres a charge.
But anyway. I liked it. It's a small park and it was dead so we didnt have any lines. One ride was broken but they got it fixed and we got to ride. It was one everyone was looking forward to and its one of my favorites now.
Also the weather was pretty good. It was a bit too sunny and warm only for like an hour. Otherwise it was pretty nice and overcast.
They had more than just characters to portray their story, they actually had cast! There was a show in the middle of the realms telling the story. I think I saw them all playing "Mother, May I" with some kids later. Their show was interactive too. I thought they were cool, so I got a pic with them. 😁
We're thinking about getting a few season passes next year. Its like 300 bucks a person, but its free admission into both the theme and water parks, and discount on food. Apparently 7 trips would pay for it. 👀 So we may do that instead of vacation next year..
I'm so sad they're so dead, its a good joint. The rides are good. I did almost get a concussion on a coaster, but.... 👀💧 Now that I know when to BRACE..
I really hope they get more attention soon or they're not gonna last long 😩
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have you listened to interview Zane Lowe recently did with The National yet?
Yes, and oh boy I can’t wait for this one. Seems like she’s been getting at least some of her inspiration of “switching perspectives” from the collaboration Matt does with his wife. I love it when years of back and forth and hearing her talk about different perspectives comes to the forefront. But I’ll skip to the part you’re probably referring to (took the liberty of typing it out):
And speaking of collaborations, you know, Phoebe’s not the only one making an appearance on this record, we’ve got Taylor Swift, who I feel like The National expanded universe includes Taylor and I know you guys made an appearance on her track Coney Island, but talk about how that relationship made its way onto this project. It’s the first real National album in four years, everybody’s been off doing these projects, you know you and your wife did the stuff on Cyrano and Aaron’s been super busy with his own stuff and this feels like the first time that you guys are all coming back in the studio and brining those experiences with you. What was it like working with Taylor on this project?
Matt Berninger: Well, I met Taylor along time ago and we knew Taylor was a fan and eventually we got to know her and her work with Aaron was so brilliant, and I know that she was really interested in the writing process and how Carin [his wife] and I collaborate and so when the song The Alcott, when I wrote that and it very much is a perspective of one person sort of coming to try to reconnect with a one person in a space, a room like in a hotel bar and I’d written all that side of it and Aaron sent it to Taylor right away and I think she jumped right into sort of like the role of the other voice, the other perspective and like I was writing about my wife but it sets a scene of a person with a notebook writing in a bar basically and she knew exactly and fit right into that. So when it came back, all of a sudden this song I’d written suddenly has the other viewpoint or the other perspective added to it by one of the greatest songwriters of all time.
More on this:
So some listeners have been surprised to see the two emerge, in recent years, as close collaborators. After the pandemic interrupted Swift’s promotional plans for her 2019 album, Lover, she reached out to the multi-instrumentalist Aaron Dessner to help produce two new albums, Folklore and Evermore, the latter of which featured all five members of The National—whom she called her “favorite band”—in some capacity. The albums easily could have amounted to a credibility-chasing costume change: pop star goes coffee shop. Instead, they refreshed Swift’s style by pairing sophisticated, moody arrangements with a new lyrical approach. Rather than once again mine her own life for lyrics, she imagined fictional scenarios: a teenage love triangle, a murder conspiracy among friends, a romance between two con artists. Swift was availing herself of the freedoms, even imperatives, that men in rock and roll had long enjoyed—projecting moral ambiguity rather than wholesomeness and virtue.
Now it appears that Swift may have pushed the men of The National in new directions too. On the band’s latest album, First Two Pages of Frankenstein, out in April, Swift’s influence feels pervasive. It’s not just her voice, which she lends to the lilting track “The Alcott”; she seems to have taught them something about the mode of candid self-expression that she has mastered. In so doing, The National and Taylor Swift have become one of the unlikeliest and most productive synergies in contemporary music—the cross-pollination of a gloomy indie-rock fraternity and proudly sentimental, stadium-charming pop.
But the band guards against cheap inspirationalism by relying on the idiosyncrasies that have defined it all along. Its old motifs—romantic death and rebirth, sad saps saved by realists, drums that burst like flak cannons—now serve a new aim by acting as a reminder that empathy doesn’t come easily. Rescuing people can mean coaxing them to share how they really feel—and that process requires psychological struggle. On “Alien,” Berninger urges someone to “drop down out of the clouds you’re in.” A hint of conflict lurks in the line, acknowledging just how bracing such conversations can be. Real breakthroughs, these artists have shown in their work together, come from blunt and open exchange.
As Swift and Berninger sing on “The Alcott”: “I tell you my problems / You tell me the truth … You tell me your problems / And I tell you the truth.”
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
3005 (chapter 4)
pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x fem! mitchell! oc
word count: 1532
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41505768/chapters/108910935
“it’s an existential thing”
a story where the return of north island's resident player leaves a girl with a lot of influence in a predicament.
chapter 3 - series masterlist - full masterlist
----
dogfight football. a game invented by my uncle and its legacy passed on through my father. tom would never admit it but my dad was far better than him at the game. dogfighting had always been my dads thing, in the sky and on the ground. even though pete didn’t teach me how to play, i had a knack for the sport just like him.
it was always fun to surprise the new top gun aviators. i wasn’t exactly what they were expecting when they heard about a “surprise visitor to make the game more interesting”. they came in expecting someone like hollywood, and left with their ass whooped by me. a callsign-less “civilian”.
i heard through the grapevine (bradley) that my father had sent out a last minute message, reporting the dagger squad to meet at the beach behind the hard deck as opposed to the base. i had a feeling that the aviators were gonna be subjected to my fathers favorite game, but i had no idea it would be so soon. usually the dogfighting on land happened on an off day, but i wasn’t complaining.
bradley was an early riser, as were most of the people in the military, and i wasn’t. the only thing i loved more than my family was hitting snooze on my alarm. but today i was awake at almost the same time as him, eager to get to the beach and play some football. it was also the first time since his arrival that i’d gotten the chance the have a proper conversation with my brother. “long time no see bradshaw.” i said, walking into the kitchen and making a beeline for the fridge.
“i could say the same for you, mitchell.” he replied, turning to face away from the coffee machine. “coffee?”
“i would love some. do you want eggs? im making bagel sandwiches.”
“sure, did you fuck hangman?” he asked, pausing before asking his question. seemingly unphased by the explosive question he just asked.
“ok first of all, no callsigns in the house you of all people should know that. and second of all i did not sleep with him, we had dinner thats all.” i shot back, sticking my tongue out at him like i did when we were little. “also why do you care? you jealous?”
“never in a million years.” he scoffed. “i would rather stick my dick in a meat grinder.”
“ok well if you get to ask me a completely random question i get to ask you one.” i said, tossing the bagel into the toaster. “why was jake drunker than us on homecoming night when javy brought him to the house the other night?”
“drinking game.” he shrugged, completely unphased by the question.
“drinking game?” i complained. “hes a fucking navy pilot what drinking game leaves him drunk as a skunk?”
“one that involves you.”
“excuse me? why am i involved in your childish dick measuring contests?”
“okay it wasn’t a dick measuring contest, phoenix and i just wanted to see how far he would go to get an audience with uncle tom. he came back into the bar talking about needing to earn your number” he said, putting emphasis on the “earn”.
“so you made him drink until he was too wasted to stand?”
“we didn’t make him do anything, he wanted to do it.”
“you are gonna be the death of me bradshaw.” i opened my mouth to continue speaking but the sound of the toaster finishing my bagel occupied my attention. we didn’t need to be at the beach until 9 so bradley and i had a slow breakfast. we took our time catching up, swapping stories from his deployments and my various experiences with drunk delinquents at the bar. i suspected that my brother purposefully bringing up hangman stories from when they were originally at top gun. he wasn’t overprotective or anything, but i think he was a little weary of what might happen between us. seresin was a notorious womanizer, in the years that they’d known each other he hadn’t changed. bradley wasn’t gonna tell me what to do, he knew that he couldn’t do anything to stop me, but he could sure as shit try. after all, knowing what to expect going in is better than getting crushed with 50 tons of unexpectancy. bradley also made it very known that if hangman hurt me, there would be consequences.
as we were getting in the car he gave me the classic “be safe, don’t do anything stupid, give ‘em hell” speech, one that i’d heard from my father, my brother, my uncle, and pretty much every man related to me. “should we surprise them?” i asked. “i can wait in the hard deck and make my grand entrance.”
“god you do that one every time.” bradley droned. “switch it up for once. what about the ‘i’m not great at football go easy on me’ routine?”
“ooh i love that one” i exclaimed. “would they fall for it tho? i feel like some of them know what i’m capable of.”
“all the guys there see a pretty girl and lose all their judgement, you’ll be fine.” his statement was returned with various gagging noises.
“that’s disgusting bradshaw.”
“that’s just how they are i guess.”
“like you’re any better.” i replied, rolling my eyes as we pulled into the parking lot. i noticed hangmans truck almost immediately. blushing at the idea of seeing him again so soon. bradley took note of the redness in my cheeks and began teasing. pretending to call hangman over, or whispering the occasional “oh jake, i would love for you to tackle me with your big strong arms”. bradley bradshaw was a lot of things, but he was a child at the end of the day. we got out of the car and began walking towards the beach, immediately being greeted by a hyperactive bunch of aviators. my dad ordered the pilots at attention and began explaining the rules, and i occasionally butted in with my own questions. i was dedicated to my con, after all seeing the look on everyones faces when i turned out to be a secret dogfight football god would be so worth it.
after explaining the rules my dad split us onto 2 teams, with hondo in charge of keeping track. the first team was natasha, fanboy, jake, my father, omaha, halo, and javy, and the rest of us were team two. bradley and i had been playing dogfight football since we were in highschool, individually we were amazing and together we dominated. over the years we’d created various plays and could tell what the other was doing with the slightest movement. i had never played with bob or payback before i had a feeling they were hidden aces. call it instinct. either way i could usually tell when someone had a hidden talent for the game.
“you sure you’ll be okay angel?” a voice behind me asked, snapping me out of my obsessive analysis of the teams. “i wouldn’t want you to mess up that pretty face.”
“god i have no idea.” i said, putting on my best ‘defenseless’ face and bringing my hand to my chest. trying my best to look like the hopeless southern belle’s jake was used to. “i’m a little worried.”
hangman made more cocky conversation and i simply nodded along, trying to tug on his heartstrings, until my father announced the start of the game. my team lined up, hangman and rooster taking their places at the front for the first handoff.
——
i tapped out an hour into the game, leaving the aviators behind and making a b-line for the hard deck. the cool air hitting me in the face as soon as i opened the door, inviting me to the bar to make a drink to further cool me down. i looked out the windows facing the beach, seeing my new (and old) friends run around like a pack of dogs.
moments like this were rare. most of the people i’d grown up with were either dead or not living on north island anymore. seeing my brother and my dad getting along was a foreign concept after he’d pulled bradleys papers, but their playful competitiveness brought a smile to my face. their relationship was rocky, despite caroles efforts to keep them together. after her death bradley pushed away from everyone, creating even more of a divide between him and my father.
as i exited the bar and took a seat next to penny on the deck, i realized i hadn’t thought about iceman all day.
it scared me a little, thinking about how easy it was to put him on the back burner.
to be honest, everything going on with hangman was terrifying. my entire life i’d attached myself to the people i cared about, and continually lost those people. first goose, then carole, and soon uncle tom. i lived in constant fear that i would be alerted of my father or bradleys untimely demise.
did i want to spend the rest of my life with someone who’s life could be taken away in an instant?
#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#pete maverick mitchell#top gun fanfic#top gun maverick fanfic#hangman fanfic#jake seresin fanfic#hangman x fem! mitchell! oc#pete maverick mitchell x daughter oc#bradley rooster bradshaw x sister oc#tom iceman kazansky#reuben payback fitch#javy coyote machado#mickey fanboy garcia#penny benjamin#netasha phoenix trace#robert bob floyd
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
[A] musings and a drive
Amy Rose is an enigmatic creature.
She sings to herself when she washes dishes, and always takes ten minutes longer to get ready than she says she will. It's a different excuse every time: "oh, I couldn't find my lipstick", or "I wanted to wear a different headband", or "I changed my mind about the dress I wanted to wear." But, she always comes out in such a bluster and flush, that she is easy to forgive.
This is persistent whether we are going out on the town, or whether we are going out for a ride together. Even for a day trip, she wears a smart, form-fitting leather jacket, her hair back in a bandana, with tight jeans and tall, flat boots. Today her bandana is red--when I met her again, she was keen on wearing black, but she tells me that she's reintroduced the splash of red back into her wardrobe as a "throwback to her roots". Indeed, I remember her in a red dress, many years ago, at the heels of a blue-haired speedster, reminding me of a promise I made to someone so long ago...
But, the past is the past, and the present has her green eyes on me, already mounting her motorcycle. It is sleek with a deep purple sheen and a rose stenciled on the tank. She calls it "Passion" and shines it regularly. It's small and suited to her frame, and there is an air of confidence that surrounds her when it is beneath her.
My own Dark Rider is a modified GUN vehicle, with a heavier body and black frame, even through its piping and mechanics. I have stripped the government logos off it and applied a Black Arms decal as an homage to my distant heritage. It also has wires to hook directly into my own electronics, so I can be as close to the vehicle as possible. I can also mimic a "nitro fuel" injection with the energy from my Chaos Drives. The biological feedback is intense--the sensation akin to how some drugs must feel.
How we ride depends on her mood. Sometimes, she will ride behind me, arms wrapped around my back. It is a more traditional affair, but her warmth is no less a comfort. She is a good companion, and knows how to ride with me, instead of against me. I enjoy when she holds me tight, and when she holds the grab bars and enjoys the city sights.
Sometimes, I will ride behind her: a little awkward, given our size difference, but it is manageable. She is a capable driver, and loves taking long, winding loops through South Island and its hillsides, frequently stopping at turnabouts to show me her favorite lookouts. She loves the journey, though occasionally she will indulge in the thrill of speed, causing me to hold her tightly. I can tell her experience on the bike is limited, but she has ridden much in that short time.
Today, we ride each on our own bikes, side by side. We share the road--her on the outside, me on the inside--and set out from Station Square, to the seaside route beyond. She keeps pace, and I occasionally give directions through a speaker in her helmet, if not a simple hand signal. When the road stretches out long and lonely, I will downshift and goad her to a race, and we are two bullets of black and pink down the open highway.
When we have these sprints, one of us always says "What would Sonic think of us?", and we share a chuckle. What would he say, indeed. Both of us have experienced encounters with him, and while I can only speak for myself, something about him lingers in my mind. I am sure it drove her own passion for him years ago. It is not a subject we have fully breached, but I know it is only a matter of time. If Sonic could see us now, what would he have to say?
Best not to dwell on it...
I win the little race, but not by a large margin. She laughs as she takes off her helmet in the scenic turnabout, a puff of pink, and it lights up the sky like a sunset. I can't help but smile at her. She is bubbly, and bright, and beautiful. As I'm sure she has compared me to her love in Sonic, I compare her to my love for Maria. Maria was fragile, gentle, and soft--while Amy is invigorating, a squeeze of lemon, with all the femininity of a rose.
Maria...
After the torrent of grief from losing Maria, there was a hole in my heart, a loss of purpose. But, I remember her words from so many years ago, as well as the last she ever gave to me.
"Light will always follow you, Shadow..."
While I cannot say the sadness has lessened, I can feel my life having grown around the grief. The friends I have reconnected with, and the new love I have found.
I wrap my arm around her and kiss her head. This life is a gift, and I will not squander it.
0 notes
Text
through the night
even in the latest, most tiring moments, you and wonwoo never fail to make each other feel loved
warnings: uses of terms of endearment if that makes you uncomfy
fluff, 1130 words, boyfriend!wonwoo x reader | established relationship au
a/n: sorry but we are taking a break from our scheduled programming of summer fair drabbles for wonwoos birthday 🧎 but i did write most of this before then 😅 oh yeah reader does wear wonwoo’s t-shirt btw
As Wonwoo pushes open his front door as quietly as he can, he takes in the scene of his apartment. The living area is completely dark, except for the small, warm glow from the lamp near the sofa, sitting on the far end under the window. He then turns his attention to the kitchen, where a few plates sit in the dish rack. While he surveys the room, he spots a pot cover on the island counter.
Despite Wonwoo being away for most of the day, it’s well lived in. A smile finds its way to his lips. This isn’t just his place. It feels like a proper, dearly loved home.
Slipping off his shoes, he tip toes towards the bar to pull off the lid, revealing a small dinner. It’s grown lukewarm in the hour or so it’s been out, but Wonwoo appreciates the thought and the effort.
He puts the noodles in the microwave, setting the timer before making his way to his room. It’s pretty much your room too, with how much you stay over. You practically live at this place, though technically you do have a lease somewhere else in the city. Not that Wonwoo minds your presence here at all, though. It’s quite the opposite, actually.
The handle is cool to the touch, and as slowly as he can, he pushes it down and the door out, causing the smallest creak to come from the wood.
Moonlight shines through the window and on your skin, illuminating the side of your face squished against his pillow. Maybe a strand of drool is falling from your open mouth as you take deep breaths, exhausted by your long day.
And then his eyes fall upon your clothing. You’re still wearing the jeans and top from when you left in the morning. He chuckles as he imagines you earlier in the day, plopping down for what was supposed to be a short nap until you probably gave in to your fatigue and passed out on his bed.
He tries his best to take quiet steps before he sits on the edge of the bed, lightly tracing the shape of your face with his fingers.
“Angel,” he murmurs.
You make some sort of responsive hum as you snuggle your face further in his pillow. An old, faint scent of peach and cucumber meets your nose and causes you to smile, almost like you’re in a pleasant dream. Your favorite thing about Wonwoo’s room, his whole apartment, has to be how even just being in it reminds you of him, makes you happy. Everything is infused with him, his personality, his essence. It’s a constant reminder of the person who brings you joy all the time and it spreads to the deepest nooks and crannies in your brain when you need it most.
“Let’s get you changed into something more comfortable,” he says, coaxing you out of slumber slowly with his smooth voice.
“Too tired,” you mumble before you hide your face further in the soft pillow to avoid the moonlight, causing your words to get muffled by the fabric.
While he offers a small smile, he does worry about how uncomfortable sleeping in this outfit all night will be, so he presses his lips to your cheek and whispers a simple “Please?” against your skin.
His breath tickles, causing your lips to curl no matter how hard you try and how much you want to stay in bed, which only makes you whine.
“I’ll help you, okay?”
You grumble but force yourself up, rubbing your eyes with your palms.
“There’s my angel,” he coos.
He stands to press a kiss to your head and pad over to the dresser, pulling out his most worn t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants you leave in his drawers.
You’re still blinking sleep out of your eyes when he places the folded clothing in front of your slouching figure, kissing the crown of your head as you try to get your brain in a conscious enough state to change.
When you think you can finally see without the blurry film of drowsiness, you shake your head to rid yourself of the last bits of the feeling. With your vision and thoughts finally somewhat clear, you glance up and Wonwoo is gone. He can be so polite sometimes. Even after all these years he still likes to give you your privacy, even when you don’t mind.
The somewhat worn cloth has the familiar smell of fruit, and the softness of the fabric is already lulling you back into the cozy slumber you’d been in minutes earlier despite your efforts to resist. Wonwoo’s clothes just…remind you of him, like a nice hug both for your whole being, the comforts of belonging, of love, of home, all wrapped up in one thing.
Once you’re changed into his shirt and your bottoms, you creep into the hallway and spot Wonwoo at the counter, munching on his old noodles.
“I’m sorry they got cold,” you whisper as you approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face against him.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, settling into your touch despite jumping a little at the coldness of your hands seeping through his own pajama shirt.
He eats in silence, with you falling asleep attached to his back and him happy to ease you into dreaming again. With his eyes wandering while he chews, they find your reflections in the oven door.
He can’t seem to stop his lips from curving and smile from blooming when he notices the way the old cotton of his shirt sits on your shoulders. Knowing that you prefer soft t-shirts, especially with his scent, to sleep in, he’d given you his, and he can’t say he doesn’t like it. It’s a nice little reminder that you are his to love and cherish, that you feel the same things towards him.
As he finishes the last bite of his dinner, he places the plate and utensils in the dishwasher. They’re tomorrow’s problem. Right now, he just wants to bring his favorite person to bed and cuddle you until you’re both fast asleep.
Patting your locked hands that rest on his middle, he begins the journey to his room, letting you drag your feet on the wooden boards and use him to move yourself. Regardless, he would never tire of your weight on his back.
Once you’ve returned, he closes the door behind you before helping you into bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin and crawling in next to you.
“Sleep well, love,” he whispers, pressing one last kiss into your cheek.
“Mm, g‘night.”
What a good night it is. You would dare even say it’s the best kind of night.
a/n: i am no good at sappy notes, so i make no promises on how good this one will be either. i don’t know wonwoo and wonwoo doesn’t know me. but in some of the most volatile, terrifying, stressful and hopeless times of my life, i looked to you, and, while i didn’t think everything would suddenly be okay, at least i felt a little better. and i don’t know just seeing you can make me smile. if i could say anything to you it simply would be thank you. thank you for all the happiness and respites you have given me, whether you know it or not. and i hope that it is paid back to you and then some. i hope you are and will always be happy. whether or not i’m a carat for a long time, i will be grateful for you.
happy birthday, my dearest. i hope you are having a great birthday filled with love and joy.
-another carat on the internet
#caratwritersclub#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fluff#seventeen wonwoo#mei's#this was self indulgent bc i like to wear soft tshirts to bed 😭#so thats where the idea came from 🧎#mei.svt
674 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hangman Songfic - Dress
Hangman x reader story, inspired by the Taylor Swift song Dress.
Check out my Masterlist for more Hangman songfics!
Thanks to everyone for reading :)
Y/N - your name | Y/LN - your last name | Reader’s Callsign is Vegas
---
You and Jacob Thomas Seresin had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Your mom and his mom had been best friends all through high school and college and when the two of you were born only a few years apart, they had already started planning your wedding. Unfortunately for them, you weren’t Jake’s type, at least he had never shown any interest in you that way. Your honey blonde hair, bright eyes, and not so subtle curves hadn’t ever captivated him the way that the skinny, bleached-blonde ones had.
He was a handsome boy who had grown into a stunning man, and during high school it was like you lived in a cheesy RomCom. He was the football captain and of course he was dating the head cheerleader. While he had tried to keep up your friendship, she inevitably pushed you out of the picture, always insecure about Jake’s long standing friendship with you. Even that couldn’t stop you from sitting with his mom in the bleachers, cheering him on. However, your heart would break a little more every time he would hug her after a touchdown was scored and you always left before the game was over, you couldn’t take the disappointment of being ignored.
Say my name and everything just stops
I don't want you like a best friend
As the years went on, you both grew apart. Jake never seemed to understand why, but for you it was just too painful to keep holding on to him as a best friend when you desperately wanted him as anything else. When he graduated high school and went to college it got a little easier, he was busy and didn’t reach out as much, and you didn’t have to pine after him every day.
You tried not to get your hopes up when his relationship fell apart, and you helped him to pick up the pieces of his heart. She had cheated on him while he was at school. Jake might plaster on a hard exterior but he had a heart of gold, and he was devastated by her betrayal.
Despite your best efforts, you found yourself falling even more pathetically in love with him. With no clear signs from him that he could be interested in you, besides your usual banter, the best course of action was to run. His friendship meant too much to you but at that moment you needed space to get him out of your system.
You applied to the Naval Academy, and were accepted. You left the state of Texas behind on a seven-fifty-seven headed to Virginia, after your four years of schooling and training, you made it into the pilot program. You graduated top of your class and took every single mission you could to work your way up through the ranks. Jake hadn’t let you drop contact though and the two of you spoke often, most times when you hung up the phone you had to go to the gym to work off the emotions his calls left in their wake.
All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting
My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah)
When you got your letter to Top Gun ecstatic was the only way to describe what you were feeling. You called Jake, to tell him how excited you were about being one of the youngest pilots in Navy history invited to the program. He had picked up on the first ring, and the sound of his voice when he said, “I’m so proud of you,” would ring through your mind until the day you died. He informed you that he had leave time coming and would be disembarking at North Island around the same time you would be arriving at Top Gun. Before you hung up, he made you promise to meet him at a local dive bar when you arrived.
—
You sauntered into The Hard Deck in your favorite blue sundress, strappy while sandals tied to your feet. Your hair was pushed back from your face with a headband, its wild curliness enjoying a break from the Florida humidity. Your home station was currently at the Naval base in Pensacola, Florida and the sun had been working wonders on your already blonde hair, it now held streaks of platinum color throughout it and your skin had a glorious tan from morning runs on the beach. The California coast just wasn’t the same as the Gulf coast, but it would have to do for now.
You spotted him as soon as you walked into the bar, he was standing by the pool table talking to another woman. His green eyes pierced the wall that you had built up over the last few years and you couldn’t keep your breath from hitching in your chest when a wide smile broke over his face. He walked away from the woman and made his way to you. As she turned to see where he was going, you couldn’t help but feel your heart sink, she was beautiful, her olive skin and dark hair pulled back into a regulation bun.
“Y/N,” he said, as he made it to you, taking both of your hands in his to look you over, pausing a second to glance at the little gold bracelet he got you for your twentieth birthday, “How have you been? You look great!” he asked, a small smile on his face.
You had never known the infamous Hangman to be insecure, but looking at him now, that's all you could think to place the look on his face. “Jake, you’re looking handsome yourself,” you replied.
Our secret moments in your crowded room
They've got no idea about me and you
The tension between the two of you seemed to be unrelenting as he guided you over to the pool table, the same woman from before was still standing there, you note that the name on her khaki uniform says Trace.
Jake introduces you, “Y/N this is Natasha Phoenix Trace, Phoenix, this is Y/N Vegas Y/LN.”
You give Phoenix a wave, “Are you here for Top Gun too?” you ask her.
She shakes her head, giving you a kind smile before saying, “No, I graduated with Hangman here a few years ago. Just passing through before heading home tomorrow on leave.”
“Ah, I was hoping for another woman to befriend. The one drawback about being a pilot is that there's so much damn testosterone,” you say laughing.
Phoenix joins in, “Speaking of testosterone, I don’t know how you deal with this one,” she says pointing at Jake.
“That wasn’t my choice really,” you say, trying to downplay your relationship, “Our moms are best friends so we were forced to get along too.”
Jake chooses that moment to butt in, “You know you love me,” he says, a seemingly knowing smile on his face.
You feel the blood drain out of your own face, the smile slowly going with it. The air around the three of you now feels tense in a way that it wasn’t before.
Trying to salvage the situation you turn back to Phoenix, “So are you and Jake together then or..?”
She bursts out laughing, “Oh no! I have a strict no coworker policy,” she says before lowering her voice to a stage whisper, “Also I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but he is kind of an asshole.”
You laugh at that, “Some things never change,” you say, watching Jake’s face fall a little at your teasing.
The tension from his statement before has finally lifted from your small group. You are joined by a few other Navy members and soon it is like a party in the bar.
You push your way outside for a breath of fresh air, the vodka tonics you had been ordering all night were starting to get to you. Making your way onto the beach, you take a careful seat in the soft sand. The sun had long since set, but the sand still held a flicker of its warmth.
You listen to the sounds of the waves hitting the shore, the gentle lull of the noise making you close your eyes. The rush of the alcohol was leaving your system quickly, making you feel tired instead of lively. Suddenly, another body plopped down next to you in the sand.
“I thought you left,” Jake said quietly, almost sounding disappointed.
“No, I just needed a break from everyone,” you said, opening your eyes to look at him.
He nodded, looking at the bracelet on your wrist. You had worn it tonight for much the same reason you had put on this over the top sundress, because you knew that Jake would be here. No matter how hard you tried, your heart wouldn’t let you stop hoping that maybe this would be it, this would finally be the time that he would open his eyes and see you.
There is an indentation in the shape of you
Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo
After a while, you hear Jake huff out a sigh, “You wanna get out of here?”
Your heart clenches in your chest, what could he mean by that? “Sure, where to?” you say, hoisting yourself out of the sand, brushing any remnants from your dress. You feel his hand brush across your bottom gently. Your heart leapt in your chest as you turned to look at him with wide eyes.
Seeing the look on your face, he immediately apologizes, “Sorry, you missed some sand. I thought maybe you’d like to come back to my place to ugh…catch up,” he finished lamely, his hand coming up to run through his now less than perfectly styled hair.
“That would be nice,” you say with a smile, trying to reassure him, “I walked here anyway so it would be good to have a ride closer to home.”
He led you out to his truck, a black Dodge Ram, and helped you in the passenger seat. You could have sworn that he whispered something under his breath as you climbed in, but you couldn’t be certain.
As you pulled up to the bungalow he was staying in for a few days, you couldn’t believe that it was only a few down from yours. He came around to help you out of the truck, it was lifted after all, and as you stepped out, your foot slipped off the running board. Your strappy sandals, while cute, were a safety hazard at times. Luckily Jake was there to catch you, steadying you in his arms before you could hit the ground, he dropped a quick kiss to the top of your head before he let you go. Was he drunk? He had never kissed you in his life.
And if I get burned, at least we were electrified
I'm spilling wine in the bathtub, you kiss my face and we're both drunk
As you close the door, turning to face him, you almost throw caution to the wind and pull him down for a kiss. Could it be so bad trying to make a relationship work with him? He was a single man, and you a single woman. If it didn’t work out, your friendship of twenty-five years could survive it, right?
Before you get the chance to act on your thoughts, you realize that Jake has started making his way to the front door. You catch up to him as he swings the door open and follow him inside. As you bend down to take off your sandals, you hear him inhale sharply from behind you.
You had bought this dress with him in mind, the cut was just right to show off your shapely thighs that even the Navy training couldn’t rid your body of. As you slipped your second sandal off and stood up, you turned to find him looking at you with wide eyes, “Would you like another drink?” he asks quietly.
“Sure, what do you have?” you ask him back. Watching as he tears his eyes from you to turn to the fridge.
“Mostly just beer,” he says, poking his head into the fridge, “I think I have a bottle of whiskey in the freezer though.”
Sure enough, he did, and that’s what led you to sitting on the floor of his living room, giggling like a schoolgirl. You watched Jake take a final swig finishing the bottle, it had only been a quarter full to begin with, but the liquid fire was giving you some courage. You let out a loud yawn, “I think its time that I head on home,” you said sleepily. As you try to get up, you stumble, falling into Jake’s lap, overturning the now empty bottle onto the floor.
You are mortified. Jake just starts to laugh, however his laughter dies down soon after he realizes that you aren’t laughing with him, “Maybe you should stay here tonight?” he asks quietly, sounding sober.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you agree, as he maneuvers you off his lap.
He makes his way towards the hall that you assumed led to his bedroom, saying, over his shoulder, “Let me get you something more comfortable to sleep in.”
When he returns with a white shirt and a pair of Navy sweat shorts, you give him a smile as you take the clothes and head to the bathroom. You reach behind you to unzip the dress, only to find that no matter how you stretch your arm behind your back, you can’t undo the zip. Huffing out a defeated sigh, you open the door to find Jake loitering outside.
You had just opened your mouth to call for him, but stopped short at the sight of him waiting for you, “Jus’ wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said quietly.
“I actually need help,” you say, turning around, pulling your hair away from your back with your hand, “I can’t reach the zipper.”
You hear him let out a shaky breath as his hand makes contact with the bare part of your back. When his hand reaches the zipper, he asks quietly, “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
Involuntarily, you let out a laugh, before saying, “I only bought this dress so you could take it off Jake.”
His hands are still on your back, holding the zipper halfway down, “What did you say?”
Only bought this dress so you could take it off
Take it off (ha, ha, ha)
Carve your name into my bedpost
'Cause I don't want you like a best friend
“You heard me Seresin,” you say, as you turn around to face him, your hands now holding the top of your dress up by the tiny straps. You give him a daring look, one telling him to rise to the challenge you just laid before him.
He just stands there staring at you for so long, that you think you broke him. Before he can reject you, you take a step back, reaching one hand to close the bathroom door so you can attempt to disappear into thin air like they do in Harry Potter. His hand grabs the edge of the door before you can close it fully, and he pushes his way into the bathroom. You take a few steps back, looking down at the floor in embarrassment, still holding the top of your dress up to protect your modesty. You didn’t let just anyone unzip your clothes for Christ’s sake.
You feel his fingers on your chin, lifting your face up to his. His eyes bore into yours, searching for some kind of sign, which you must give to him, because in the next moment he is kissing you.
Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off (ha, ha, ha, ha)
Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off (ha, ha, ha, ha)
Only bought this dress so you could take it off
—
Your dress did end up on the floor that night, alongside his khaki uniform. You could now comfortably say that you were definitely Jake’s type, he just never thought he had a chance with his best friend.
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake hangman x reader#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun#songfic
160 notes
·
View notes
Text
Loving is Easy ♡︎
siyeon x gn!reader (request)
You and Siyeon had this cliché but adorable tradition of going to each other's houses for movie night, which mostly took place at your house as your robot girlfriend lived with her members and she didn't want to have to deal with the girls' silly fights while you were there. Even though you told her how much you liked the chaotic atmosphere of her place, she wanted to spend some quiet time with you; although the real reason for her disagreement was that she didn't want to share you with her members, you were HER island paradise all to herself.
Who would have thought that the charismatic wolf Lee Siyeon was actually a cuddly and jealous little baby.
This time it was her who invited you, which surprised you at first, of course you had accepted because it had been so long since you had gone to see her at the dormitory. And even since the comeback you hadn't been able to see her very often, which you could understand, but finally being with her was so nice and comforting for you, knowing that she cared about you just as much despite her busy schedule.
So excited to see your beautiful girlfriend that you were already fully dressed since 2 hours and finishing packing her favorite dishes in tupperware while singing your song of the moment "Maison" of course, you were a partner but also her number 1 fan, you never missed a comeback, live or stage because how could you not be so proud of Siyeon and her members when they were so talented.
When you finally arrived at the door of the dormitory, you could feel your heart start to flutter with stress and joy even though it had been a few years since you and Siyeon, you were still blushing as much as on the first day of your relationship.
Tapping on the door hesitantly and immediately taking back your bag of tasty food in your arms, because you knew that your korean girl was always happy to see you appear with food ; and as if that was out of your thoughts Siyeon opened the door with her usual childish smile and held back from screaming when she saw what you had in your hands, grabbing your heavy bag and trotting into the kitchen to put it down, before running back to you and clinging to you like in the romantic movies.
You couldn't help but smile at her being so dramatic, stroking the top of her head to calm her energy surge and while you still had both feet in the lobby the girl was already on your back plunging her face into your neck.
— Siyeon-ah, I love you but I can't move forward if you're standing on my back like this.
You couldn't hold back the giggle knowing that your girlfriend was already pouting at your remark
— Let me hug you, I missed you so much!
She had gotten off your back dragging her feet in a sulky way to be in front of you and plunging into your arms in the sweetest way you had ever seen; and to think that you were in a relationship with such a wonderful and strange creature that you couldn't help but kiss her all over her face.
— So tell me what do you want to watch tonight, serial kisser ?
Siyeon always had a knack for coming up with the most strangely affectionate nicknames for you and you loved it.
— Oh I saw a trailer for an anime movie on Netflix, wait I'll get it!
Jumping on the spot remembering the movie, you were all happy to finally see it as you remembered that it was released a long time ago but you didn't have the time to see it.
You wrote on the Netflix search bar the animated movie "Over The Moon" it had caught your attention since its release and as you knew your girlfriend loved cartoons you didn't hesitate a second to start the movie.
Siyeon was already sitting on the couch with her arms wide open to welcome you and all your warmth and affection, she loved to feel you close to her and her heart knowing that unfortunately she couldn't do it every day and she would never stop showing how much she loves you.
So when you see her like this, your heart can only melt at how cute she is, you throw yourself into her arms sitting on her lap and resting your head on her chest as she wraps her hands around your waist.
Now concentrated on the movie in front of you since 1 hour, you were really happy to have chosen it it was a really beautiful and interesting animation, some passages were funny and others very surprising but worth preferred were the songs because you could not stop dancing and singing in company of Siyeon.
But strangely the anime comes to an end and you hear less and less your girlfriend on whom you were lying, you think at the beginning that she is asleep which can be understood, however at the time of the last scene you feel the legs of the singer shaking and feel sniffing near your ear. You wonder if she got sick and you turn your head to look at her, and what was your surprise to see your wolf's eyes filled with tears, her cheeks slightly pink and her nose turned up in the most adorable way you have ever seen.
— Are you crying ?
You were often worried when Siyeon started to cry because you knew that the girl used to hide her feelings so as not to annoy those around her, but seeing her crying like this and wiping her cheekbones with the sleeves of her oversized sweater, you couldn't help but laugh out loud at her reaction as you came to pinch her cheeks like the baby she was to you.
— Stop laughing at me, the movie was really sad, she lost the love of her life and had to live on the moon...all alone.
Even though she was trying to explain the reason for her sadness, you were just standing there giggling at that while hugging her affectionately.
— My baby is moved by a kid's movie ?
At your mischievous remark Siyeon gently hit your arm showing her pouty face, she who had a routine of teasing you.
Then you jumped out of the sofa and headed to the kitchen with an idea in mind, Siyeon didn't really know why you got up all of a sudden for no reason, but when she was about to get up too to see what you were up to, her ear was titillated by the clicking of the old CD player that had not been used for many years but she remembered the sound.
You were with your back to your girlfriend putting the right CD track and when the rhythm started, you turned around in a ridiculous way with a ladle in your hand and sunglasses on your nose that you had found in the cupboard (there was everything and anything in the kitchen, especially the stuffed animals in Minji). Singing the beginning of the lyrics in a deep and exaggerated voice to amuse your wolf.
And Siyeon was completely confused at first, it was the first time she saw you singing and dancing even though it was humorous, but remembering your movements as a parody of the scene from Guardians of the Galaxy on the song "Come And Get Your Love" she could only smile at your nonsense.
She soon joined you in grabbing another pair of sunglasses and kitchen tools to use in her noisy musical performance, sometimes joining in with your extravagant dance steps, and jumping up and down on the couch like children on euphoria as you continued your broken vocals.
The playlist continued to scroll and you continued to dance with Siyeon but more gently and your hands clasped between them. Your antics continued until the sound of your partner's laughter, it was a moment that you knew that she was not so sad anymore and that you could finally rest from your performance, you decided to sit on the cool floor with your smiling wolf.
— I'll always remember the day you cried in front of the movie Boss Baby, it was just as hilarious
— It's embarrassing don't mention it!
This time the korean girl's cheeks were red with embarrassment at your anecdotes about her crying over children's movies, and as much as you enjoyed teasing her about it, it was a reason why you loved Siyeon even more, she wasn't afraid to remain the child she sometimes was and allow herself to be emotional.
You can't help but kiss your girlfriend on her whole cute face, stopping her in her justification speech, this side of her was perhaps the most beautiful of her personalities to you because knowing that she was opening up about her feelings in this way was one of the most honest proofs of love to you.
— Lee Siyeon, I love you and everything that goes with it, you don't have to be embarrassed
Even more shy upon hearing you say how much you love her, Siyeon wrapped her arms around your back and hid her face in your neck hugging you in a way to show you all her love too and she whispered so faintly and close to your ear so that you could hear her say those few words just to you.
— It's so easy to love you and I appreciate that... I could easily want to spend my life by your side Y/N
| Sorry for the wait, I have so many exams right now, I hope you like it, I know it's short and I hope one day to be able to do longer and better quality |
#dreamcatcher imagines#dreamcatcher x reader#girl group imagines#girl group x reader#dreamcatcher reactions
86 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey Moosh! I know it said your requests are closed for now but I just wanted to maybe put this idea on your radar because I know I'll end up forgetting to ask later! I think I also understand the rules and I didn't see anything against what I'm gonna request but if you need to ignore this ask thats totally fine I 100% get it
I'm a big fan of pegging and I'm really looking for Shanks with a GN, or Trans male character that tops Shanks. Like I just feel like Shanks probably has tried it, absolutely loves it and at some point would bring up that he wants to experience It with his SO. Sometimes I switch between Shanks being a demanding power bottom. If he's going that way I'd love to see him go to town riding his SO and tell them how good they're making him feel. I also think he could be just a straight up bottom that relishes in the freedom of handing over control to you. Like toss him on the bed, toy with him first and then teasingly demand he fuck back onto you in doggystyle until you decide thats enough of admiring his ass and that you're gonna hold him down between the shoulder blades and take over. Either way? I think Shanks would really enjoy bottoming.
Ah thank you I hope I did this right. Stay happy and healthy!
Bottom Shanks👏 bottom Shanks bottom Shanks 👏bottom Shanks 👏
I've been holding onto this request for quite some time in my drafts and decided to go on and post it, hope you enjoy its kind of a bit all over the place 😅
(This work includes gender neutral reader and with the use of vague language this work can be interpreted as either reader using a strap or using the 'ol natural method depending on you the reader's personal preference to pound our favorite redhead to oblivion :))
(NSFW under the cut as always)
You weren't exactly sure what it was about him - one of the Yonko of the sea with tens of hundreds of islands of territory flying his flag, a master of conquers to send and entire battlefield to its knees in matter of seconds, a man so skilled in communicating that can just about talk to anyone and be convincing and reasonable with that the World Government is willing to hear him out when times are reaching their most desperate, a very powerful, intelligent captain and potentially being very deadly if you get on his bad graces who once served on Gol D. fucking Roger's crew as a kid - all of that and still knowing personally everything he's capable of, but behind close doors or whatever ally he drags you to out of the loud drunk noises of the crew croaking and singing in whatever poor bar the Red Haired pirates decided to call their home in that night, he tells you in husky whines and whispers how fucking bad he wants you to wreck his slutty ass all the way to the other side of the Grandline until he can't sit for weeks.
Fist full of bright scarlet locks you yank his head back, eyes rolling back and sharp exhale stuttering out of his throat interrupting whatever string of profanities he was just wheeze out previously. Your teeth graze down his neck and you slowly pull his head down more and more forcing him to present deeper skin of his flesh going down his shoulder to his chest where your tongue exchanges places and rolls over your teeth to give the nice fat of skin and patterning over whatever scars your tongue can trace down and across a good long several attention filled licks before trailing across to give the same attention to his nipples - that shaking a good sharp gasp out of him and leaning into more of your touch with his chest more into your face (like nice soft pillows)
The only arm he has grapples to whatever he can grasp - that being your back as with his thighs slightly shaking as he's straddled very very wide over your hips to give you such a nice view of his crouch and how his pre come leaky cock throbs and jolts around with every thrust he himself makes down onto you; which makes him only hold on even tighter not to loose any balance. His face is almost the same shade as his hair (which honestly could also be do to himself currently being very drunk but so are you so you wouldn't be surprised with how much alcohol in your system could also be reflecting on your expression that your love seems to currently lost in) his eyes never leave your face with only the exceptional eye rolling back into his head when you hit deeper in juuuust the right spot oh and of course he makes sure to tell you so you can keep hitting it just like that.
He talks. A lot. Though even out of the bedroom this of course is something everyone knows, again, Shanks is very good at communicating so of course when he's then has his head held down and ass up waiting for you to get back in him for whatever round this is because it's very easy to lose count.
Not just he talks alot he's also very teasing but that's no matter what role he takes top or bottom, he will always try to find some way to joke or tease just to revile the reaction he gets of you.
"Come on love," He shudders out with the occasional exaggerated sway of his ass from side to side, his face flushed against the sheets as he looks back to at you with smug eyes, his body his fully supported but the weight he applys to his torso as he keeps himself upright - afterall he only has the one hand and that one hand is very importantly occupied with keeping his already wrecked hole open on display in a teasing manner as you prep yourself up to go again. "-you wouldn't want to leave you're dear old captain waiting, do you?"
Pry his long toned legs alllll the way open, Shanks is rather quite flexible and he likes when you get a bit rough with him when you take exactly what you want and it doesn't matter if you're smaller or larger than him he will gladly wrapped his legs around your shoulders to give to deeper access into him.
Even if he's bottoming he still will find all kinds of ways to praise you, like telling you in whined out cries how good you're taking him, how fucking amazing you feel inside of him, how much he loves you, how dizzy you're making him from coming over and over, ect. He definitely can switch things up from being moaning mess rocking frantically into you like a bitch in heat to tenderly clasping onto your hand or your face peppering sweet kisses or rubbing his forehead against yours all while you continue to buck into him - mixed with said early praise giving things can turn tooth rotting sweet so fast.
"Make me yours, please, please." He'll whimper after awhile, clearly exhausted with his eyes hanging open by only threads after hours of non stop passionate railing.
His fist clenches onto desperately to the headboard above as he practically melts into the cupst of your hands on his hips rocking in steady rhythm back onto you each punctuated with a sharp hiss of air catapulting from his throat in shambled shapes of your name.
His back is coated in a thin layer of sweat that shines and dances along the length of his skin with every move you pound onto him in the dim light of the lamp bared witness next to the bed. Your face is tucked deep in the Yonko's shoulder, your mind hazy as you till yourself not to completely loose yourself before he does, but lucky you he is very close as he desperately is bucking into your tight grip around his cock that prevents him from meeting his climax.
"Make me take it - make me take it! Please! I'll d-do anything you ask - anything you want - I'll never come ever again if you only ask! Please, if you just let me come now!" His voice, now so frantic and wild all the previous cockiness and smug overconfidence gone and now just left with the overstimulated mess, easily forgettable that this was one of the most strongest pirates in the world beneath you given what you turned him into... your favorite version of him.
When you finally do let him come, the absolute roar he makes that echoes throughout the room and without a doubt leaks into the halls of the Red Force/or inn depending on where ever you're humping fest has taken you, you feel woozy and top heavy as your body goes slump against him and struggling to keep upright as an extreme radiance of Conquers shoots through the whole room and practically sparks out of you your own release no matter who close or far you were originally. It takes you both a moment to catch your breath together but Shanks turns his head, half of his head still engulfed by bedsheets and tangled mess of his signature hair - his non scarred eye staring up at you clouded with drunken lust, still lost in his own high that he just can't help with the matching wide grin that comes along with it.
"Oh come now, love," He struggles to chuckle out. "You know it's not polite to stare, unless you're planning on finishing what you started..."
If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!
Tagging list
@ochizokulevy
How to be added to the tagging list + additional info
#one piece#one piece x reader#red haired shanks#red haired shanks x reader#shanks x reader#sin content#mine#one piece headcanons#gender neutral reader
81 notes
·
View notes