#this both comforts me and sends me to insanity by the way. i am never normal about this

[uncanny-tranny]

The two things I love most about language are simultaneously that the human need to communicate is so strong that we will invent languages, vocabularies, and new turns of phrases at the drop of a hat (freeing our thoughts from the confines of our mind), but also that language is so naturally limiting that it won't truly encapsulate your deepest, most inner thoughts and feelings (your thoughts are yours, but at what cost). Do you understand how feral this makes me feel. "Please understand me," we tell each other, and we both will be seen but also so, so misunderstood, and it isn't our faults, not really, and we continue trying, trying, trying to be understood.

[leftoverpages]

Loyalty’s embrace

Pairing 𓅪 Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood x betrothed!reader

Tags 𓅪 jealous and protective Benjicot, small fight scene (no gore), fluff at the end, romance, reader uses she/her but no physical description

Notes: i have been writing for years without posting anything so i have a insane number of fics to post, enjoy lol

Wordcount 𓅪 1.3k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The grand ballroom of Blackwood Manor was awash with warm candlelight and the soft hum of conversation. The air was filled with the scent of roses and the clinking of crystal glasses. Lady Y/N stood at the edge of the room, a vision in her resplendent gown. Her dress, a masterpiece of crimson silk and midnight velvet, flowed around her like a river of fire and shadow. The bodice, embroidered with intricate patterns of gold thread, clung to her form, highlighting her grace and strength. Across her chest and shoulders, the Blackwood sigil was proudly displayed, a symbol of her new allegiance and her own fierce spirit.

The fabric shimmered in the candlelight, every movement sending ripples of light and shadow cascading over her. The skirt, full and layered, swirled around her feet like a tempest, the deep red contrasting beautifully with the inky black. A delicate gold chain rested at her throat, drawing attention to the elegant curve of her neck.

She stood there as her betrothed, Benjicot Blackwood, engaged in conversation with several lords and ladies. She found herself alone for the moment, sipping a glass of champagne and watching the festivities from afar.

Despite the grandeur, there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. Being betrothed to Benjicot, the fierce and enigmatic heir of House Blackwood, was both an honor and a daunting reality. Their engagement was more strategic than romantic, a union meant to strengthen alliances and secure power. Still, she had hoped to find some genuine connection with him, something to hold onto amidst the political machinations.

"Lady Y/N, you look ravishing tonight," a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Lord Cedric, a notorious flirt and known for his less-than-honorable intentions, standing far too close for comfort.

"Thank you, Lord Cedric," she replied, forcing a polite smile and taking a small step back.

He didn’t seem to notice—or care. "It's a shame you're tied down to Blackwood. A beauty like you deserves better," he said, his eyes raking all over her in a way that made her skin crawl.

"I am perfectly content with my betrothal, Lord Cedric," she replied firmly, trying to edge away. But Cedric persisted, moving closer, his hand reaching to touch her arm.

"Come now, Y/N, you can’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it would be like to be with someone else," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Before she could respond, a strong hand gripped Cedric's wrist, pulling him away from her. "I believe the lady has made herself clear," Benjicot’s voice was low and dangerous, his dark eyes blazing with anger.

Cedric paled but tried to maintain his bravado. "I meant no harm, Blackwood. Just a bit of fun," he stammered, taking a step back.

Benjicot stepped between Cedric and Y/N, his posture tense and protective. "Your idea of fun is clearly misguided," he said coldly. "If I ever see you bothering her again, I will not be so forgiving."

Cedric sneered, his fear giving way to indignation. "And what will you do, Blackwood, uh? Throw me out of your pretty little ball?"

A dangerous glint appeared in Benjicot’s eyes. "No, Cedric. I’ll do much worse."

Before Cedric could react, Benjicot’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. The ballroom fell silent, guests suddenly turning to witness the confrontation. Cedric, recovering from the initial shock, lunged at Benjicot with a roar, swinging wildly.

Benjicot dodged, his movements controlled and precise. He landed another punch to Cedric's midsection, doubling him over. "You don’t know to quit, do you?" Benjicot muttered, grabbing Cedric by the collar and lifting him to his feet.

"Enough!" Cedric spat, struggling against Benjicot’s grip. "You think you can control everything? Even her?"

Benjicot’s eyes darkened further. "I don’t need to control her, Cedric. I trust her. Something you clearly don’t understand."

With that, Benjicot shoved Cedric away, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. Cedric, breathing heavily and bruised, glared up at him. "This isn’t over, Blackwood."

"It is," Benjicot replied coldly. "And if you value your life, you’ll stay away from her."

Guards approached then, at Benjicot’s silent command, hauling Cedric to his feet and escorting him out of the ballroom. The guests slowly resumed their conversations, the tension dissipating, but whispers of the altercation lingered.

Benjicot turned to Y/N, his expression softening as he reached out to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She nodded, but her composure faltered, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you, Ben. I didn’t know what to do..."

He stepped closer, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek. "You never have to face such things alone. Not while I'm here."

Y/N looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. Instead, she found a depth of concern and protectiveness that took her by surprise. She had always seen him as distant, a warrior hardened by duty, but now she glimpsed the man beneath the armor.

"Why do you care?" she asked softly, her voice trembling.

Benjicot sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know our betrothal was arranged, but that doesn't mean I don't care for your well-being. I've come to admire your strength and grace, Y/N. I want us to be more than just a political alliance."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She had longed for some indication that he felt more than obligation towards her. "I want that too, Ben," she whispered.

He smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that made her heart flutter. "Then let's make it so," he said, taking her hand in his. "Together."

As they stood there, hand in hand amidst the glittering ballroom, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her.

Benjicot glanced around the room, the tension in his shoulders easing. He looked back at Y/N, his eyes filled with a tender resolve. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice soft and inviting.

Y/N felt her breath catch. She nodded, unable to speak, and he led her to the center of the ballroom. The musicians, sensing the moment, began to play a slow, melodic waltz.

As they took their positions, Benjicot's arm encircled her waist, his hand warm and steady. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he guided her with a grace that belied his warrior's demeanor. They began to move, their steps perfectly in sync, the world around them fading into a blur of light and sound.

The music swirled around them, a symphony of emotions. They glided across the floor, each step a silent conversation. Y/N felt as if they were floating, the dance a magical respite from the political intrigue and uncertainty that had shadowed their engagement.

Benjicot's eyes never left hers, their dark depths reflecting a myriad of emotions. In that moment, she felt a warmth spread through her chest, a burgeoning hope that perhaps their union could be more than just a strategic alliance.

The music swelled, and Benjicot spun her gracefully, her dress flaring out like a crimson and black flower. When they came back together, he held her a little closer, his gaze softening even further.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want us to be more than a political alliance. I want to know you, Y/N. To truly understand you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. "And I want to know you, Ben."

As the final notes of the waltz echoed through the ballroom, they came to a gentle stop. The guests around them erupted into applause, but Y/N and Benjicot remained in their own world, their gazes locked.

"Thank you for the dance," Y/N said softly.

Benjicot brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure was mine," he replied.

In that moment, surrounded by the approving smiles of their peers, Y/N felt something shift. The alliance they had been forced into was beginning to transform into something real, something hopeful.

The future was uncertain, but for the first time, she felt truly seen and protected. And perhaps, just perhaps, they could find love in each other’s arms.

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 4

Pairing: Lance x Reader, Grid x Reader

Summary: no spoilers 😈

A/n: I’m not ready to let them go, so send in book club requests so we can keep the club going 🥲

requests are open 🗣️ masterlist

—————————

“Nico, when did you ask your wife to marry you?” you dangle upside down on his couch, just chilling and asking for life advice, similar to how the book club started.

“When I knew the time is right and she was the one. Are you second guessing Lance?” he asks, sitting in a chair beside you. You are both in your racing suits, ready for the upcoming race.

“Not necessarily, it’s just that we’ve been together for so long, and god I really love him. You could ask me to marry you right now and I’d say no, that’s how down bad I am,”

“He’s your pookie,” Nico says, smiling proudly at using slang.

“Hell yeah,” you high five him. “I know he wants to marry me, I just wish he’d propose,” you groan.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Never, ever, ask a girl that. And the answer is no. I just- I don’t want to rush him. I know Lancelot, and he’s gonna want to make it perfect, so I don’t want to make him feel rushed,” you explain and Nico nods.

“Well then, in an alternate universe, I have already asked you to marry me,” Nico says, trying to comfort you.

It’s true, on Earth 2, you and Nico are closer in age and married.

“God, I can only hope,” you grin at the Haas driver, moving to sit normally.

“Don’t worry about it, I see the way he looks at you, it’s only a matter of time,” Nico reassures you.

“Thank you. You really are one of my closest friends. Our little club is my family,” you tell Nico who pulls you into a hug.

“We always will be. Competitors on the track, family off the track,” Nico says as Kevin walks in.

“Y/n, you okay?” Kevin asks, sitting on the other side of you.

“I’m okay, just a little in my bag, probably about to start my period or something,” you wave Kevin off.

“Okay, well you are basically our grid daughter so if there is anything bothering you, let me know,” he gives you a small hug.

“Guys, stop, you are gonna make me cry for real,” you tell them, a little laughter in your voice.

“Alright, go crush this race,” Nico says, walking you out of Haas. You head back to your garage, feeling a lot better than you did before.

Little did you know, was you were venting to Nico, Lance was panicking in front of Fernando, Lewis, and Valtteri.

“What if she says no? Oh my god, she will finally admit that she actually despises me and barely tolerates me,” Lance paces.

“Mate. I don’t know if you noticed, but she looks at you like you hung the moon and the starts. You look at her like she is the thing that makes you live and breathe. You will be ok,” Lewis quotes the song he wrote based on the book you selected.

“Really?” Lance stops his pacing, his eyes shining happily.

“Yes, you two are insanely love sick, it is cute,” Fernando says, amused at the Canadian.

“Just ask her when she wins, she will be too excited to say no,” Valtteri says, Lewis and Fernando gasp, as well as Lance.

“That’s not nearly romantic enough,” Lance groans.

“We arranged for a romantic track walk and picnic at turn two, here is a book with a hole in the pages. When she opens it, eso,” Fernando says, confirming what they had been working on.

“It took a little convincing the FIA, but we did it,” Lewis says. Lance visibly relaxes, a lot of tension releasing.

“How can I repay you for this?” Lance asks, a little overwhelmed, but very grateful for their help.

“Take care of our grid daughter, make sure she is happy for the rest of her life,” Valtteri says simply.

“Hey guys, sorry we are late,” Daniel walks in with Checo.

“What did we miss?” Checo asks, sensing the odd atmosphere.

“Just giving Lance permission to marry our grid daughter,” Lewis tells them.

“Did you ask Kimi?” Daniel asks, the whole grid knows how close the two have gotten. You don’t have a great relationship with your dad, similar to Max, so Kimi has easily filled that role.

“He was the first person I asked, then I asked Kevin and Nico since she is really close with them,” Lance nods, knowing you are probably with them.

“We will be out there taking pictures, don’t worry,” Valtteri reassures the young Aston Martin driver.

“Amigos, it is race time,” Checo says, leading everyone out to the track. Lance spots you with Logan.

“Yeah, you can totally join, I’ll give my copy of this weeks book since I finished it. Just don’t tell the other non-club drivers,” you tell the American. You have gotten closer with him, seeing how excluded he is from some other groups in the Paddock.

“I’ll see you later, thanks for being a good friend,” Logan says, squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Hey, Lancie,” you grin, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“Hello, love. Are you excited for our date after the race?” Lance asks, his hand resting on your waist, his warmth blocked by your fireproofs. You chat until you reach your respective destinations.

“Good luck, I’ll see you when I overtake you,” you tell him, and he returns your sentiments with a laugh.

You end up placing P4 after pushing the car harder than you ever had before, so you were extremely pleased. After a shower, media responsibilities, and debriefs, you change into a sundress and fix your hair. Lance meets you outside the motorhome, looking handsome in a button up and dress pants.

“You look so hot,” you tell him, jaw dropped a little. 10/10 girls would agree that the only thing hotter than a guy with a baby or small animal, is a guy dressed up in a well fitting suit.

“You look cuter,” he kisses you sweetly, grabbing your hand as he leads you through the paddock to the track. He told you about the track walk after weighing in. The grid helped him set up the date spot while you got ready. Your breath is taken away a bit when you approach turn two. There are fairy lights hanging from the fence and a blanket with a picnic basket on the track.

“Lance, this is incredible. How did you set it up?” you ask him in awe. The clear night sky lets stars shine bright above you.

“The grid helped, especially Fernando, he’s a big romantic and really liked the idea,” Lance admitted shyly.

“It’s perfect,” you take his hand to assist you in sitting down. Lance sits beside you, offering you a snack from the picnic basket. Conversation flows easily between you, talking about anything and everything except for racing, the one topic always off limits on date nights. Lance reaches into the basket and pulls out a book.

“I got you a little something,” Lance says, pushing down his nerves. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the grid popping out of their hiding spots in the grass area.

“I do love my books,” you smile, taking the book from him. As you usually do, you flip through the first few pages, pausing when you see a ring taped to the third page.

“I had a big speech planned, but will you let me make you happy for the rest of your life and make me happy the rest of mine by marrying me?” Lance asks and you can only nod as tears start flowing. You launch yourself into his arms, holding him close.

“I love you so much,” you whisper and he holds you tighter.

“I love you more,” he says. You pull away slightly and kiss him. Lance carefully removes the ring from the book and puts it on your hand. It’s simple yet stunning, absolutely perfect for you. You both look at the grid when they start cheering and hollering.

There is a social media intern for Formula One somewhere in the group who captured the whole thing on video, Fernando paid her under the table for it and he hid another camera and microphone on the wall of the track. He knew the guys would only remember to get pictures.

You take your time thanking each driver and hugging them, you really tear up when you see Kimi there.

“Congratulations, you raced so well today, I am very happy for you,” Kimi actually hugs you, if there wasn’t photo proof from Lando and Daniel, who’s jpg accounts broke the news of the engagement (you wouldn’t want it any other way), people wouldn’t believe it.

“Thank you. Wait, you said you weren’t going to be here for the race!” you gasp, looking at him a little betrayed.

“If you knew I was here, you would insist on getting dinner with me instead of going on a date,” Kimi shrugs, a small knowing smile on his face. Not only is he basically your dad now, he has been mentoring you a few times a week, even hopping in the sim once in a while.

“You’re right. I’m just glad you approve,” you smile as Lance wraps an arm around your waist.

“He was the first person I asked,” Lance kisses the side of your head.

“Wait, I thought we were the first,” Kevin says, looking at Nico.

“As long as she’s happy, I’ll get over it,” Nico jokingly mourns his loss of you.

“The ring is gorgeous,” George says, inspecting it. He is the babygirl of the group.

“Alright guys, let’s leave the happy couple alone,” Logan says, Lewis helping him herd everyone away from you and Lance.

“This may have been the most perfect day ever,” you sigh happily.

“Only because I am with the perfect girl,” Lance grins at you, holding you close as a blush covers your face.

“Shut up,” you giggle, pulling him down onto the blanket with you. He holds you in his arms for a few minutes before you yawn.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel,” Lance chuckles, helping you stand up. He is grateful that his assistant is taking care of the cleanup and your assistant packed up your drivers room for you.

“Mhmm, I need cuddles ASAP,” you yawn again, thankful for everything the day has brought you and that the hotel is close by. When you get back, it doesn’t take too long for you to crash.

“How did I get so lucky?” Lance whispers, pulling you close to him. Your steady breathing lulls him to sleep.

[snookienthusi4st]

light yagami x fem! reader hcs

warnings: smut, bondage, degradation, angst if you squint, reader has a death note, au where he doesn’t die even though he totally deserved it/j

note: i apologize in advance when i tell you that i do not care for this man in the slightest but i’m doing my best for you guys 🙏 i might’ve self entered a bit in this bc i was so mad when he started yelling at misa so feel free to alter it based on your personality

nsfw under the cut

• you two met when he found out there was a second kira(you’re basically misa plot wise)

• you agree with his morals and his plans to rid the world of evil, so you admire from afar

• instead of going over to his place you send tapes and letters to him like misa did, letting him know where you are so he can see you if he wishes

• you’re smart, pretty, and the moment he finally meets you, he’s aware of how perfect things played out

• you’re the perfect cover girlfriend, and task force won’t suspect a thing when they realize you two are an item, so he might as well string you along, right?

• so he makes you aware of everything he’s trying to do and you both agree to a fake relationship to keep the task force at bay

• it works! but to his surprise, he ends up getting attached

• he actually ends up finding you nice to be around, which he’s definitely not used to

• you’d come over sometimes back when he’s living with his parents and hang out with sayu, she loves you like the older sister she didn’t have bc she got stuck w a clinically insane older brother instead

• you bring apples for ryuk and give him hugs kinda like misa does, he thinks you’re cool

• as the case progresses, he realizes how much he actually likes you as a person and it kinda scares him

• so like anybody does, he ends up asking you out around the time where he starts living by himself

“do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“i already am your girlfriend, genius.”

“no, i mean-“

• you accept happily, having developed feelings for him as well over the course of your time together

• when he’s not busy getting the task force off his tail, he’s an exceptionally sweet boyfriend

• his dream is to live in a world of justice where he knows you’re safe wherever you end up going <3

• he’s like the embodiment of vanilla ice cream when it comes to romantic gestures

• just the normal stuff like flowers, forehead kisses, cuddling at night etc etc

• sometimes he snaps a bit when things aren’t going to plan but unlike misa, you’re actually assertive and don’t take shit from this man so he learns to keep himself regulated

• it’s kinda cute seeing him all submissive and apologetic once he realizes what he said

“just shut up and do what i told you, alright?”

“excuse me?”

“i-i mean..”

“rephrase that sentence.”

“sorry, sorry. can you..”

• you kinda have to learn how to be the man of the house smtimes to avoid his habit of needing a power dynamic to boss you around

• he genuinely doesn’t mean to lash out, it’s just how he’s always gotten things done and he’s never been accustomed to much else

• but you’ve helped him grow into someone that asks ppl to do what he tells them a bit more politely :3

• whenever you’re worried about him overworking himself, he’ll probably dismiss it

• but if you’re like really worried he’ll let you sit with him while he’s at work

• like it’s late and he’s writing down names and he feels your head lean against his shoulder

• and then he ruffles your hair with his free hand and shifts a bit in his seat to make you more comfortable

• sex

• i just know bro is incredibly misogynistic in bed

• like he doesn’t mean it but the way he talks has him sounding like a white man before the equal rights movement

“god, you’re such a slut..”

• but if you’re like me and you’re not rlly into that, don’t worry! bc if you communicate that to him he’ll be super sweet

• but a few degrading terms might still slip out every now and then

• would definitely be into CONSENSUAL bondage

• like watching your hands shake against the ties on them as he goes so teasingly slow

• you might have to peg him and lower his ego a bit tho

• he hates how much he enjoys handjobs

• or blowjobs

• literally anything oral is his weak spot

• achilles heel achilles dick, you feel me?

• like he’d love having to stay quiet while you suck him off under his desk as he writes down names or does his homework

• sometimes he has rough days and gets touchier like an unsaid ask for you to give him head

• like you’re js chilling and then you get a hug frm behind, and you’re confused for a sec until it hits you that he’s wanting you

• would play video games with you if you’re into that stuff

• he’d act uninterested but it takes him back to easier times like playing w sayu when he was younger

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

I think this is where we ask for requests? but if it is shanks x reader fanfic ( fluffy pls! and SFW! ) if ur not uncomfortable with it!🤍

Hiii @iloveyoushanks Thank you so much for your ask (and for all your support on my stories! ❤️ I appreciate it very much!)

This was my first time writting for Shanks (excluding his appearance in the meet-cute series, but he's just a dad there, not a daddy 😏) so I hopeeeeee you like this! Totally SFW! Also, you didn't specify gender, so I kept it gender neutral, hope it's okay! Let me know if you liked it! 🙏 Thank you!

Source for pic

Chasing Constellations

Word Count: 2490

Tags: SFW; gn! x Shanks; Fluff; Comfort; Camaraderie; Acting on crushes;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You are done dating boys, you want men. Your Captain claims to be man enough for you. But is he? And are you about to find out?

Notes: Be sure to check out my 100 followers event, as I will close requests on Sunday! Full disclosure, answers to requests may take a while! Thank you for reading this! I do hope you enjoyed it!❤️

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist

“Want to come home with me?”

“Sorry, not today.” You answered with a warm, apologetic smile. 

The man who had been leaning at the counter next to you, all smiles and smooth words, cursed loudly as he turned away, slamming his glass on the wooden counter along with a few coins.

The barmaid sighed as she collected them. “Shame, he was sweet and easy on the eyes. Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I don’t know why, really. I guess I am done with boys. They don’t have the emotional maturity of a man.” You said with a scoff.

“Honey, when you’re dating pirates you can’t help but deal with boys. The only maturity they achieve is in size, not in behaviour.” The barmaid let out a hearty laugh while she poured another drink into your empty glass. “If you ask me, you’re much better off just hooking up randomly. Take ‘em, leave ‘em and be done with it!”

You laughed alongside her, her contagious laugh infecting you and your tipsy state allowing you to behave more freely than you normally would.

“That’s some sound advice there.” Shanks, your captain, clinked his glass with yours before downing it in one gulp. “Or just follow mine: date a real man!” He grinned, his smile creasing the corners of his eyes and forming a charming dimple on the right side of his cheek. 

The barmaid left you two alone as she tended to other patrons and you eyed your captain from top to bottom, humming in what seemed like an appreciative manner, leaving him to puff his chest at you like a bird attempting to mate. “A real man, you say?” He nodded and winked. “Well, when you find one, send him my way, please.”

Beckman, who was next to Shanks, snorted his drink through his nose as he banged his fists against the wooden counter in pure mirth. Shanks’s grin turned into a pout, his hand against his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, you’ll get over it, aren’t you a real man?” And with that, you let a few coins drop onto the counter and turned to return to the ship. Your captain was funny, handsome, strong, intimidating and he could be very protective of you, even if you rarely needed him to help you. You got along great and had both been spending more and more time together, lately, but, even if you harboured the hardest of crushes on him, you would never consider dating him.

He was too much of a flirt, too much of a manwhore, too much of a player…

He was too much. 

Period.

Besides, he would never really be interested in you, right? 

-*-

Tossing and turning in bed, sleep kept eluding you. The cabin was too damn stuffy and your crewmates’ snoring - though normally nothing that bothered you - were driving you insane. If only they could all snore at the same rhythm instead of this dissonant cacophony! 

Huffing, you threw the sheets back and slid on some slippers on your bare feet, grabbing a light blanket to drape over your shoulders because the night and the sea breeze could be unforgiving. 

You found a cosy - secluded - spot by the deck, and sat down, leaning against the balustrade to gaze at the stars. They looked especially bright tonight and the sky was clear of clouds, leaving you with a beautiful painting-like picture to admire. 

Just as you were starting to relax, a deep sigh escaping your lips, you heard a roguish voice near you. “Couldn’t sleep? Or are you searching for your perfect man among the stars?”

You immediately smiled at his words as your eyes met his. A mischievous smirk painted his lips as he pointed up. “How about Orion? A legendary hunter, strong, skilled, muscular?”

You scoffed, your fingers entwining as you hugged your knees and Shanks sat beside you, still looking up. “Orion? The stalker?”

Shanks chuckled, making himself comfortable near you and you didn’t miss the way his leg brushed against yours. “You know your myths?”

“Please! I know myths and constellations! Orion pursued the Pleiades sisters who, in exasperation and desire to escape his endless pursuit, sought the help of Zeus, who placed them in the sky as stars so they could be free.” Shaking your head, you huffed in annoyance. “I don’t know what’s worse, running from someone who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, or having it be written into a love story by someone who clearly doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries and personal space.”

“Message received!” Shanks chuckled as he scooted his leg away from you and you bit your lip. That’s not what you meant, his touch was quite welcome. If you ignored the fact that this was how he flirted with everyone!

Sensing the slight change in atmosphere, you decided to lighten the mood. 

“Besides, Orion is clearly fictional. If I'm trying to find a man, I need him to be real. Let's see, he was a giant, handsome, with great strength and hunting skills.” You cheekily stared at Shanks, your legs falling to the side in an effort to close the distance he had created when you spoke about personal space. 

Visibly relaxing with the return of your touch, Shanks winked, raising his hand and counting on his fingers. “Giant?” His laugh was cocky and filled with innuendo. “Check! Handsome and strong? Check and check again! Hunting skills? Baby, I'll hunt you down blindfolded in a forest. Try me.”

The huskiness of his voice caught you by surprise, holding your breath prisoner in your throat for a split-second before you both burst into laughter. 

“Well, he was also arrogant, boastful and prideful so that's another three checks for you, Captain.” You nudged him playfully with your leg and he laughed, holding his hand in the air. 

“Aye, aye, guilty as charged.” A moment passed as he scratched his chin, eyes fixed on the sky. “How about that one?” He pointed at another constellation, clearly challenging your previous claim of knowing your way around the stars. 

“Hercules?” He nodded. “Another strong handsome man?”

“I think you might have a type.” He laughed, letting his arm fall on the balustrade behind your head. The heat from his body made you aware of his proximity. “He was brave-...”

“Reckless!”

“He held a strong sense of justice and duty.” 

“Impulsive, short-tempered with anger issues…”

“A hero!” He finished proudly. 

“An idiot.” You replied with a smirk. “They might have been branded as heroes, but they were still boys, flawed, full of themselves, with almost no regard for others, let alone for a loved one.” Sighing you fixed your eyes back on the sky. “Not even heroes and myths are perfect men, Captain. This is an impossible task.”

This all started out as a joke. A simple answer to a question a barmaid - you'd most likely never see again - asked you. And now it has turned into a real dilemma. You were sick and tired of being toyed with. You did want a real relationship, but none of the men - boys! - you'd dated had been ready to commit. 

Shanks was older than you, supposedly wiser and more mature. But he was not boyfriend material, even if he was the perfect man. So he needed to stop this useless flirting if he wasn't going to follow through because your heart wouldn't take it. 

“Well, you've left out a perfect specimen.” He pointed up and you followed, a frown on your features, already regretting having indulged your captain in this banter. 

“Perseus?”

“Yes.” He answered, pride evident in his features for your correct answer. At least you managed to impress him with your knowledge of the stars. “He had no faults. Come on, I dare you to say something bad about him.”

You pondered, your chest rising and falling with a deep inhale, but Shanks didn’t let you speak. 

“He was brave, loyal, honourable, ingenious and resourceful! Plus, he saved his beloved from being eaten alive by a sea beast!” Shanks looked you straight in the eyes and moved his stump, trying to make you laugh again. “Luffy was not my beloved in that sense, but he was still a loved one. I'd say I check all the boxes!”

That did make you laugh, and the two of you shared a fit of giggles, lightening the mood. You could always count on your captain to make you laugh. As you both regained your composure, Shanks let the arm that was on the balustrade fall and land onto your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body, muttering that the night was quite cold and he didn’t want you to catch a chill.  

You didn't object, your head fell against his chest as you tried to blame the unexpected gesture on your slight tipsiness - though by now you were more than sober. 

“There's one fault I can think of about Perseus.” You whispered as a sigh escaped your lips when you realised how well your head fit against him. 

“Really?” Shanks sounded doubtful. His fingers dug into your arm, pulling you even closer, as if there couldn't be any gap between your bodies. 

“Perseus was described as youthful. Some legends say he was around fifteen when he slew Medusa. Others say that he was in his early twenties. A boy. Not a man.” Lifting your face slightly, you let your eyes meet his, a slight sadness pressed into them. “Forget it, Cap. I’m fine on my own. Even if they were perfect,” you pointed your finger at the sky, “they would still be out of reach.”

Shanks’ goofy grin, one he had been sporting since he began speaking to you, fell off his lips as his gaze locked onto yours, his pupils darkening and something else hidden, glimmering and pulling you in like a magnet. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m right here, then.” The hand on your shoulders travelled to your nape, fingers slipping under your hair, heat permeating your entire being. “And an even better one, I’m definitely not a boy.”

His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned down. Your heart pounded incessantly against your chest and every fibre of your being told you to pull away, to flee, to run. This was Shanks! Your Captain! The eternal flirt!

“You’re not a boy, you’re right here… but you’re also a manwhore, Captain.” The soft chuckle that left his lips ghosted over yours, leaving a promise of what could be, if only you let it happen. 

“You know, some things are just myths… I bet Orion wasn't even a giant at all! Perseus courageously defeating a sea beast? I guarantee he was scared shitless! Me being a manwhore - as you so eloquently put it.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly, an invitation, the opening of a door, leaving you to decide if you wanted to enter or not. “Most definitely a myth.”

“But you are as unattainable as one.” All you had to do was lean in. Just a little adjustment of your mouth. He was right there. 

“Not for you.” Somehow, his words rang true. You hadn't seen him bring anyone to his cabin in ages. Granted, he could still be seeing someone outside of the ship and then returning, but if you thought hard enough, he had barely been flirting with anyone. 

Except you. 

Breathing was hard. He was right there. Thinking was harder. His scent was intoxicating. Hearing was impossible. Your heartbeat pounded so loudly that there was nothing else to hear. 

“You’ll just break my heart.” You couldn’t find the strength to pull away, even though your words might say otherwise. 

“Try me.” It almost sounded like a plea, but it couldn’t be, because Captain Shanks didn’t beg. His fingers pressed into your hair, as if grounding himself and staving off the urge to pull you against his lips. “Please.”

Oh… 

Apparently he did beg after all. 

Shoving all doubts, insecurities and fears down to the pit of your stomach, you pressed your lips against his. Just a taste. A small peck. You were going to pull back, you really were, but Shanks’ hand spread across your nape as he pulled you against him with the hunger of a starving man. 

He tasted slightly of sake, the alcohol lingering on his tongue, making it slightly bitter. But mostly… he mostly tasted of excitement and adventure, of a blissful future and sweet moments. 

Suddenly, the stars were no longer in the sky, they were shining within your closed eyelids, supernovas exploding inside your chest, your head swirling at the speed of light. 

It was… 

“Perfect…” You muttered against his lips as he pulled back a little to let you breathe. Your foreheads pressed together, his hand moving to caress and cup your cheek. Why had you doubted this? 

Why had you doubted him? 

“Gods, I've been craving that kiss forever.” There was still hunger in his voice, but something else, something far sweeter. 

“What do you mean?” Your hands reached in as you pressed your fingers tentatively against his chest, pondering whether you should pull him closer, considering the implications of a second kiss. 

“I thought you were the unattainable myth. Not the other way around. You never gave two shits about me.” He made that familiar whine that told you he was playfully hurt. 

Your chuckle caught you by surprise, so much so that you let your head fall forward, nuzzling the crook of his neck and breathing in the tanginess of his skin, sea salt and sweat mingling into a dizzying aroma. 

“Maybe you should've asked sooner.” You spoke into his skin, holding back the urge to press your lips against it and test how soft it was. 

“Asked what?”

“What that guy asked me at the bar.”

“Oh…” You felt as he took a deep inhale against your head, his hand now placing soft circles against your back. “About wanting to come home with me?”

You hum softly. 

“Aye, aye.” He chuckled as his fingers travelled up to your chin to tilt it, allowing him to stare into your eyes. “So, do you?”

You weren’t about to make this easy on him. “Do I what?”

“Want to come home with me?” He kissed you between words, his lips pressing against your flushing cheekbones, then your closed eyelids, and finally your nose. A softness to his touch you didn't know he possessed. 

The warmth filling your cheeks could have answered for you, but you still nodded, arms circling around his neck, pulling him down toward you, lips merely a breath away. 

“Is that a yes?” He didn’t hide the giddiness in his voice, the slight joviality that your wordless agreement brought. The boyish grin on his face. 

And you didn’t reprimand him for that. Because for all the youthful attitudes your captain had, he truly was a real man.

And one you wanted to date.

[flowerxbunnie]

Hola! Soy Dora! —

okay wait no for real tho.. can you pretty please write a nasty lil big bad b bernard matty boy fic? like where he’s big daddy dom and he’s got an unspoken relationship with y/n? like they’ve not spoken the words, but they belong togetherrr 🎶 okay but for real.. that, and they have a night together where they’re just drinking and vibing with one another (just them) and it takes a turn 😈 and he’s being like all controlling and makes her ride his thigh while he touches himself to the sight, and then and then and then just rails her into oblivion? loooadddds of filthy speak because i am a slut for that right there! pretty please with a cherry on top? 🍒

Carnal

Matt x Fem reader

Warnings: pure FILTHY smut. Dom!Matt, daddy kink, deg/praise, thigh riding etc :)

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR

I throw back the last sip of my drink and hand my cup to Matt, the alcohol tasting like candy but burning just the same going down. I take the gummy worm off the rim and suck the sugar off, Matt’s eyes watching my every move closely. My skin is warm and my veins are filled with a buzzing feeling. He stacks the plastic cup on top of the others we’ve collected on the coffee table throughout the night, a chuckle escaping his lips as he counts them in his head.

“Damn, we gotta slow down soon.” He shakes his head slightly. “I’d like to not have a migraine tomorrow.”

“I’m feeling good, don’t know about you Matty boyyy..” I draw out, sitting back on the couch.

He sits back along with me and throws his arm over the back of the couch, turning his body slightly to face me. He has a half full cup in his other hand, his finger circling the rim slowly.

“Oh, I’m feeling good.” he smirks, bringing the cup to his lips and sipping as his eyes stay locked onto mine.

I can feel the slow and steady beat of the bass in my chest, his playlist playing quietly on the speaker on the table. We spend a while scrolling through my liked TikToks, cuddling and laughing together.

I find myself spending most of my Saturdays here in his living room, drinking and talking all night while Nick and Chris are away. My relationship with him is complicated. We’re definitely more than friends, but also less than lovers. I think we both have a problem with labels, feeling far more comfortable leaving things unspoken. I can’t help the thoughts that live in the back of my mind, like an itch I can’t scratch. A worry that maybe I’m not the only one he spends nights like this with. I know he’s my one and only, I can’t even fathom another man making me feel the way Matt does. Whether I’m in his car cracking up at his road rage or in his bed with the headboard thumping against the wall, I’m always filled with insane butterflies for this man.

But even though I’m sure of my feelings, he’s never outright spoken his. We’ve never had the conversation of if we want to date around or keep this situationship we have going on between us two. I feel selfish for wanting him all to myself, but he makes it hard not to.

“You good, baby?” He asks in his raspy voice, the nickname flowing off his tongue like honey and making my heart flutter. “You seem a little zoned out tonight.”

“I’m fine,” I lie, sitting up to grab another prefilled cup off the coffee table. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” He asks and brings his hand to the small of my back, his warm fingertips brushing beneath the hem of my shirt and sending shivers up my spine.

I just shake my head and give him a smile before throwing back a big gulp of my drink, melting against his touch as his hand inches higher up my spine. His rough fingertips run up and down slowly, my tense muscles going soft as he adds pressure.

“You know that’s not an answer, Y/n. Come on, talk to me.” He speaks sweetly as he sits his cup down.

His hand wraps around my waist and pulls me back down next to him on the couch, hooking his hand around my legs and bringing them up onto his lap. The look in his eyes is serious, even through the glaze the alcohol has brought on.

“I don’t know Matt,” I play with my fingers like I always do when I’m nervous. “I’m just having weird feelings tonight.”

His eyes soften like he already knows what I’m going to say. “Tell me, love.”

I sigh and let my back fall into the soft cushions. “I’m just scared.” I start, watching as the look on his face stays the same, unwavering. “I’m scared for the day you find someone else who you’re ready to make things official with. I’m scared that I’m not the only one you fix gummy worm drinks for.”

He chuckles and my heart drops, my suspicions feeling all the more real as he breaks out into a fit of laughter. His hand leaves my legs and comes up to rub his eyes, his head shaking from side to side. “That’s what you’re all worked up about?” He asks through giggles.

I nod and feel the tears threatening to spill over, my drunk emotions amplified insanely. He doesn’t even notice, he just keeps laughing and brings his hand to his chest as it heaves.

“I don’t see how it’s funny..” I speak softly, my voice cracking at the end, my cheeks heating up as my weakness becomes obvious.

He immediately stops laughing, his head snapping back to me and his eyes softening. He brings a hand to my cheek and moves his thumb back and forth, his eyes flicking back and forth between both of mine.

“Baby, I thought it was obvious.” He tilts his head slightly, his eyes scanning my face slowly.

“Do I need to call an Uber?” I croak, still sure that he’s about to tell me I’m dumb for thinking too deeply about the way he felt for me.

“What?” He says shocked, his eyes wide and his hand halting its movements on my face.

It’s like the realization flashes in his brain, he closes his eyes and sucks in a breath. He doesn’t say anything, just brings his hand back to my leg and traces it up to my thigh and gives it a squeeze. My body is reacting in a way I don’t know if I like, blood rushing to my heat between my legs despite the hurt I’m feeling.

But like Matt always does, he makes it all better. “You’re all I need, Y/n. All I want.” His hand trails higher, gripping and squeezing my skin along the way. “You know I’m not good at speaking my mind.”

My breath hitches as his fingers trace around the bottom of my shorts leaving a burning trail in their wake.

“But trust me,” he starts, his fingers dipping ever so slightly beneath the fabric, “I know that you’re it for me. Now stop worrying so much.”

His hand trails back down my leg, my thighs instinctively pressing together wishing for the friction I never got. He leans over and grabs my cup, handing it to me and sipping on his own. “Let’s finish these, hm?”

I grab the cup and down it quickly, squeezing my eyes shut at the burn. He chuckles and tilts his head back, his jawline sharp and defined in the ambient light of the lamps and candles. He sucks his teeth as he grabs my cup and stacks it into his, discarding them along with the rest.

“Take your shorts off.”

I’m taken aback, the conversation feels so unfinished but my head is swimming with thoughts of how his body would feel against my own. I still oblige, hooking my fingers into my waistband and slipping them down my legs, tossing them onto the coffee table. He gives me a slight smirk and grips onto my left ankle, lowering my foot onto the floor. He turns his body to fully face me and brings my right leg to the other side of him. My thighs open and my clothed core is exposed to him.

“You wore my favorite pair.” He coos, his thumb coming up to ghost over the fabric.

The smallest whimper leaves my mouth, my pussy aching for his touch. He moves up slowly, almost as if he’s memorizing the pattern in the lace, his thumb running up to the hemline and resting against my lower abdomen.

“Did you do that on purpose?” He questions, hooking his index finger into the elastic and pulling. “Did you know it would make daddy get all worked up?” He lets go and it snaps against me, a pulsing sting etched into my skin.

“N-no, not on purpose,” I lie, my heart speeding up at the dirty name. I knew damn well what I was getting myself into when I grabbed them out of my drawer.

“I don’t like when you lie, baby.” He moves his hand to my hip and gives it a squeeze. “Tell daddy the truth.” He begins slowly pulling my panties down, stopping when I don’t speak right away.

“I’m s-sorry daddy. I like the way you get so turned on when you see them.” I breathe out, a satisfied hum coming from my throat as he resumes pulling them down.

“That’s better.” He helps me maneuver out of them, bringing them to his face and placing a kiss against the fabric. “I think I’ll keep em’.” He smiles smugly as he slips them into his pocket.

He runs his hands up both of my thighs, his eyes raking up along with his movements. He brings his thumbs against my folds and spreads them open, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of my arousal.

“So wet already, baby.” His thumb rubs against my swollen clit once, my pussy clenching in response and a whine falling past my lips.

He bites his lip as he does it again, watching intently almost as if experimenting and seeing if he’ll get the same reaction. He does- my pussy clenches and tightens around nothing and my tender bud begins throbbing. He looks up at me with lust filled eyes.

“I love seeing your pussy beg for me. I’m barely doing anything and you’re already clenching up.”

He presses his thumb down suddenly with increased pressure but holds it still. I arch up and whine out, my heat aching for anything more than what he’s giving me. His free hand roams up my stomach and underneath my shirt, finding my bare breast and toying with my nipple. His thumb remains stagnant and still on my aching clit.

“P-please daddy. Please… more.” I whimper and rock my hips against his touch, moaning as I finally feel relief.

He pulls both hands away quickly, a disappointment filling his expression as he narrows his eyes.

“W-why? I need more.” I pout and reach out for his hands, only for them to be pulled away roughly.

“You wanna get off so bad, huh?” He sits back against the couch. “Do it yourself.”

I suck in a breath, taken aback at his harsh tone. I swallow thickly and bring my own hand down slowly to my heat, shaking slightly as he watches me intently. I begin rubbing slow circles onto my clit, speeding up because my body doesn’t react the same underneath my own touch. I bring my bottom lip between my teeth and close my eyes, trying to imagine it’s Matt’s fingers instead of mine, speeding up and bucking my hips up, desperate for any sort of relief. I keep going and even add a finger, curling it up inside my walls and hoping I’ll feel the euphoria soon.

But I don’t. I let my head fall back in frustration, removing my hands and giving up. I hear him laughing, taking enjoyment out of my struggle.

“Can’t get off without daddy, can you?” I look up as he begins unbuttoning his jeans, a visible bulge straining against the denim.

He pulls them down and keeps his boxers on, his erection still confined beneath the black fabric. He adjusts in his seat, leaning back and opening his legs wider.

“Come on baby. Use my thigh.” He pats his leg and motions his head for me to come over.

I sit up and try to control my shaky breath. Matt’s always been the dominant one, but it’s like something else has taken over, an almost devilish look in his eyes. I position myself onto him, my legs straddled around his right thigh and my pussy hovering above his skin. His hands run up to the hem of my shirt, pushing it up and pulling it over my head. His eyes become half lidded as he drinks in the sight of my exposed chest.

“What are you waiting for, princess? You were so eager a minute ago.” He rasps, his hands settling on my hips and lowering me down to make contact with his leg.

I suck in a breath at the sensation. My mind is buzzing from the alcohol and the arousal, I feel like I’m floating until I focus on the throbbing between my legs. I slowly rock back and forth once, my clit rubbing against his thigh with no resistance, my own arousal lubricating it perfectly. I swear I can see his cock jump beneath his boxers.

I let down all of the weight I’ve been subconsciously holding up off of him, the pressure sending a shockwave through my body as I begin grinding against him. I let out whimpers and moans as I circle my hips, crying out when he lifts his leg higher up to press against me.

“Such a naughty girl getting yourself off on my leg. So desperate that you’ll grind on anything I give you, hm?” He speaks lowly, bringing his arms up behind his head and watching my every move.

I bring my hands down to his chest and run them down until they settle on his abdomen to give myself some stability. My muscles are starting to tire but I keep going, rubbing and grinding against his thigh as my stomach begins to twist into knots. It’s like he knows I’m close to giving up, close to stalling. He begins to bounce his leg over and over, vibrations shooting through my body as his heel comes into contact with the floor roughly.

“F-feels so good, daddy..” I whine out, digging my nails into his shirt and twisting it, needing to do anything to release some of the pleasure flowing through my veins.

His eyes are glossy and dark as his hand comes into contact with his erection, palming it and tightening his grip repeatedly. I watch in awe as his veiny, slender hands work against himself. He pulls his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring up, groaning as he pumps himself. His tip is dripping with precum, swollen and pink with need. He swipes his thumb over his slit to gather it and brings it up to my mouth, rubbing the juice onto my tongue as he presses it into my mouth.

I gain a sudden burst of energy and arousal and begin grinding down against him with everything I can, inching myself closer and closer to release as I watch him jerk his cock underneath me. His free hand reaches up and grasps onto my breast, his large hand encompassing the tissue completely as he kneads the skin. His palm rubs against my taut nipple, sending waves of pleasure shooting through me.

“Come on baby, make a mess on daddy’s thigh,” he encourages, “I won’t get mad as long as you help me clean it up.”

I cry out in pleasure as the knots in my abdomen wind so tightly they snap, the pressure releasing and my thighs shaking as I come apart on his leg. I grind down and my pussy clenches and throbs as my juices leak out onto his skin, his thigh now slick with my release.

“Good girl, that’s it. Such a good job.” He coos and praises, bringing his hand up and stroking my hair as I catch my breath. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’ve got a big mess to clean up.” He motions to the spot where we connect, a sheen of liquid across his skin.

He pushes my shoulders down to encourage me to my knees, and I oblige. I look up at him through my lashes, hesitantly licking a stripe across his leg and tasting myself on him. His hand grips around his cock again, pumping slowly as I kitten lick his thigh.

“Doing such a good job.” he croaks, a moan sneaking it way out.

I continue cleaning up my mess, lapping up all the evidence I had left behind. His motions around his dick become quicker as I pull back for a moment, a string of my arousal shining in the light between my tongue and the skin of his thigh.

His hand stops pumping and comes to lace into my hair, pulling me upwards. I lick up his leg, sitting higher on my knees and trace my tongue up to his base, flattening it all the way to his tip. I take it into my mouth just enough to wrap around his head, sucking lightly and batting my eyes.

“Hmm, don’t even have to be told what to do. Daddy’s precious girl.” He says sweetly while caressing my cheek.

I hum around him and feel my cheeks heat up at the praise. I slowly take more and more of him into my mouth, his droopy eyes watching as I gag at the feeling of his head touching the back of my throat. He smiles in satisfaction, bucking his hips up to elicit the same response once more. My mouth fills with saliva and it drips out and down his length, providing the perfect lubrication for my hand to grip around what I can’t fit into my mouth. I twist my hand around him and his head falls back in pleasure. I bob my head up and down, taking his cock in and out of my mouth as groans fill the room around us.

His cheeks are rosy and his forehead slick with sweat, half from the alcohol warming his body and half from his arousal. He grabs onto his shirt and pulls it over his head, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing deliciously. He wipes the fabric against his forehead before he tosses it to the side, his eyes fixing back onto me with blown pupils.

Both of his hands come down to grip onto my jaw before he disconnects my mouth from his cock, pulling me up with a popping sound. “You’re gonna have to bend over for daddy. Need to feel that tight pussy around me.” His voice is low and commanding, almost rumbling through my chest.

He pulls his boxers the rest of the way down before he grabs my hands, pulling me to my feet as he stands up himself. He turns me around and guides me towards the arm of the couch, pushing me down until my chest is pressed into it.

“Arch up for me,” he instructs, his hands grasping my hips as he helps me get into position for him. “So good at listening to instructions.”

He keeps one hand on my hip to keep me in place as he lines himself up with my entrance, dipping in and out teasingly.

“P-please daddy, I need it.” I speak up, wiggling my ass back and forth in hopes he’ll be convinced.

“Need what, baby?” He taunts, running his tip through my dripping folds until he brushes against my throbbing clit.

“Need… n-need your cock inside of me.”

“Those are such naughty words to be coming out of your sweet little lips..” he chastises and pushes only his head into me. “Tell me more.”

My breath hitches as he gives me another inch, slowly pulling out once again. “F-fuck I… I wanna feel your hands all over me while you fuck me, daddy.”

His hands rub from my ass up to my back leaving a trail of warmth and goosebumps. “Like this? You like when daddy grabs all over you?” He questions, bringing his hands to my hair and making a makeshift ponytail.

I nod and bite my lip to contain my noises as he pulls my head back roughly, bringing his other hand down to smack my ass and rub out the sting. He pushes halfway in and stalls, but I can feel his cock throbbing between my walls.

“You want daddy all you yourself, hm?” He whispers as he releases his grip on my hair and moves his hands down my sides, tracing along my curves before settling on my ass.

“YES! … Y-yes, daddy, please. Wanna be all yours.” I squeal as he bottoms out, his tip brushing against my g-spot.

He starts pumping in and out, his hips slamming against my ass with the depth of his strokes. I reach around desperately, looking for anything I can grip onto. His hands reach down and grab mine, crossing them behind my back and gripping my wrists together with one hand. His other hand squeezes and massages my ass, smacking every now and again to give me small stings of delicious pain.

His thrusts are calculated and controlled as he pounds into me. Our pants fill the air as we inch closer to our climax together, his free hand roaming my body. It’s all slippery and sloppy and animalistic. Lewd, wet sounds echoing into the room and low grumbles escaping his throat.

I feel his dick stiffen to get impossibly hard, twitching and jerking inside of my heat. “F-fuck. Help me out baby.” He croaks as his strokes start to become sloppy.

He releases his grip on my wrist and grabs my hips as I begin meeting his thrusts halfway, throwing my body back against him. My name falls out of his lips over and over in a whisper as his fingers dig into my skin.

“S-so close..” I whine, my head swimming and my stomach clenched.

“Shh.. it’s okay baby. Give it to daddy.” He encourages.

That’s all it takes for me to unravel, my pussy throbbing around him as cries of pleasure sound into the room. He releases alongside me, his warm load spurting into me and filling me up as he continues fucking into me. We continue until we can’t anymore, and he pulls out with a wince.

He pulls my aching body up and spins me around, wrapping his arms around me and placing my head against him. His heart pounds against his chest, so hard I can almost feel it thumping against my ear. Our bodies are sticky and exhausted, but nothing is uncomfortable.

He places a kiss onto my hair, his hot breath fanning down over my shoulders. “Did that tell you what you needed to know?”

I only nod, unable to form words. He pulls back and hooks a finger under my chin to bring my gaze to meet his own. He looks at me intently and comes in to place a lingering, passionate kiss against my lips. When we disconnect he places his forehead against mine and whispers sweet nothings, his soft skin brushing against my still-swollen lips.

He gives me one more kiss. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

tag list: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo

[lizthewriter]

Hi! I love your fan fictions! I was wondering (First time requesting ever) if you could do a FIC for Mattheo or Theodore based on exile and the readers dealing with self hate,anxiety, autsim, adhd, Depression, and they feel so alone and push him away because the readers scared to accept her feelings and afraid she’ll get left, and no one loves or cares about her?

AUTHOR'S NOTE Oh my God, thank you so much for sending in a request! This is actually the first request I have ever received, so this is a first for us both! By exile, I'm assuming you mean the song exile by Taylor Swift. Here's a little blurb just for you anon! And thank you for the compliment, I'm glad you love my fanfics! Sending love and good vibes your way

Honestly, I tried my best with this. I've gone through depression and self-hate, and I am currently dealing with anxiety and ADHD. I don't know too much about autism, but I really tried my hardest to convey what you've requested. I hope this is satisfactory!

exile / mattheo riddle

PAIRING Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader

SUMMARY Everything in your life feels like it's going wrong and there's nothing you can do to change it. What once brought you joy only leaves you numb. What once excited you now only bored you. What you loved only saw you as a friend.

Taking shelter in an empty classroom during a panic attack, Mattheo Riddle finds you a sobbing mess on the stone floors. You find out that he likes you more than you think he does.

TAGS Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, self-hate, depression, anxiety, stress, ADHD, autism, exams, panic attack, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, fluff, happy ending, kissing

"All this time, / we always walked a very thin line, / you didn't even hear me out," - exile, Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver

WORD COUNT 2.0K

WRITTEN 23.08.2023

pt. 2 here, karma

You sat in Transfiguration, leg bouncing nervously as you stared down at the test questions. You have always been a terrible test-taker - all the pressure of having to get good marks in such a limited time period and all this weight on your shoulders with the upcoming NEWT's made you more than nervous. Your brows were furrowed in both concentration and confusion. As you were gnawing on the end of your quill, McGonagall announced that it was time for you to place your quills down and pack your things. You let out a shaky sigh, placing down your quill. How could you not answer a simple question? Everyone else seemed to be finding the material easy, why couldn't you? You sat there, beating yourself up as you quickly packed your things away and left class.

You left Transfiguration by yourself and headed back to your dorm. Not only were you doing poorly in your classes, you also happened to be insanely in love with someone in your year. And, of course, you had to fall in love with the most unavailable person. Not only was he not interested in girls, he would never be interested in someone like you. I mean, why would he? What made you so special? And he has referred to you as a mate on so many occasions that if you had a nickel for every one, you'd surely be drowning in an ocean of them. Oh, and not only that, but you didn't really have friends. Most of the people you knew were dating and had at least one best friend. But you? No, you may know a variety of people but you couldn't call any of them a good friend, even. You didn't understand what you were doing wrong. Why was everyone else living happy, productive lives while you were stuck being miserable, alone, and depressed?

I mean, you lost all interest in everything. You couldn't find the joy in reading or taking walks about the grounds anymore. Your schoolwork was taking a turn for worse and you found yourself and bored and tired of your classes. Your grades were slipping, you had no friends, no partner, no nothing. Everything just felt wrong, wrong, wrong. And all you could do was sit there and blame yourself.

You knew you wouldn't be able to make it to your dorm to find the privacy to cry- you quickly ducked into the nearest room, curled up into the corner, and burst into sobs. It was all just too much and too little at the same time. You just felt like you couldn't deal with all this anymore. If you didn't deserve to be happy, than maybe you didn't deserve to be at all. Your hands bunched up into fists, lightly hitting your head at your temples. You hated your thoughts, the way your brain worked. You hated how you could think about everything all at once. You just wanted it all to stop, all to end.

You didn't hear the sounds of footsteps passing the classroom - Mattheo had only been walking by, skipping out on Potions, when he heard you. When he glanced into the classroom and saw you crying there, he couldn't help himself.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

You froze, sniffling, your chest heaving for air. You hadn't heard him and was caught off guard. Quickly, you wiped your face with the edge of your sleeve, collecting your bag from the ground and hiking it up your shoulder. "Nothing - nothing's wrong."

He ducked his head, his lips set into a thin-line as he observed you. "I'm not stupid. I can see that you're crying."

Great. Now you had offended the only person, perhaps, that even cared to talk to you for more than five minutes. He must hate you right now. Depise you. Think you to be cruel. "I didn't mean to say you were stupid." It was hard to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over the threshold. You wiped your eyes with the end of your sleeve again. Why should he care about you? He must be pitying you now, surely he would have no other reason to act so concerned. Even if he did, he would one day realize that you were never as good as he thought you.

His gaze softened, the edges of his lips curling up slightly. He approached you, raising his hand to wipe away a tear that had collected in the inner corner of your eye. "'S all right, darling. Don't cry. Just talk with me about it, hm?"

Your chest heaved as you took in a shaky breath. "W-why do you care? I'm sure you have better things to do." You let out a weak laugh, backing away from his touch. "I mean, come on, don't you have Potions right now?"

"Why do I - I care about you. Do you need a reason why?"

"Yes, I do, actually," you responded, cringing at how snarky you sounded.

Mattheo let out a sigh. "I care about you because you're beautiful, inside and out. I care about you because you make me laugh. And you make me feel better when I've had a shit day. I care about you because no one makes my heart flutter like you do." His voice got smaller as he took a step towards you, and gradually raised his hands to cup your cheeks. He drew your gaze to his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes. His expression was rather serious, as though he were trying to affirm his words. "I care about you cause you're the only person who's ever really cared about me."

You trembled beneath the soft caress of his knuckcles, meeting his eyes for a short moment before shoving him away. A brief moment of hurt echoed through his eyes as you shook your head, backing away from him. "No, no you don't. I don't. And even if you did . . . " You found your voice trailing off. You hiked the strap of your bag up your shoulder again, having slipped down your arm. "I should go. I have History of Magic soon and I don't want to be late."

Mattheo glanced at you and then down at the floor, his jaw clenched. "Fine. I won't stand in your way then."

-

You spent the majority of your time avoiding Mattheo, but you knew there'd be a day when you would run into him and you couldn't do anything about it. Today was that day, almost two weeks after the aforementioned incident.

You were curled up in the Astronomy Tower, late at night, lying on top of a blanket as you glanced up at the stars. It was perhaps the only moment of peace you had found in a while - maybe it was the whistle of wind or the glittering of the stars.

You should've known he'd be up here. He's always sneaking off places late at night, the highest points of the castle. You heard your name being called and turned around to see a surprised Mattheo. He stood but a few feet from yourself. You weren't exactly sure what to do - in your panic, you did nothing.

"Erm - may I sit down?"

You didn't say anything for a moment, drawing your legs into your chest and resting your head upon your knees. You nodded ever so slightly, glancing away from him as he plopped down next to you. His shoulder brushed up against yours and he leaned forward to try and catch your eyes, mimicking your seated position.

"Hey, I'm sorry about the other day. I should've stayed there with you . . ." His voice trailed off. He let out a sigh as he leaned back on both palms, now spraying out his legs across the blanket. He stared put at the stars, his expression neither upset nor particularly happy. "I don't think you really meant it when you said you didn't care about me. I know you do. I just want to know why you're trying to convince yourself that you don't." He paused, hesitating. "Is it because you think I don't feel the same way about you? 'Cause you can erase that thought from your mind. I like you - really, really like you. And I don't know why exactly you keep pushing me away, but I want you to know that I'm here to listen."

He bathed in your silence, not necessarily perturbed by it. He finally decided to test the waters, raising his hand to gently touch yours. He seemed fascinated with you as he ran his fingernail gently across your skin.

You didn't know whether you wanted to tell him or not. You didn't know if you could trust him. If he wouldn't just laugh in your face, call you a fool, and leave you a pitiful mess. But Salazar, did you want to spill your heart out to him. And in the mental state you were in now, coupled with your fatigue, you didn't even care anymore.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't have any friends. I'm not particularly close with my family. And everytime I did start to make a friend or - or something more, they'd just leave." You wrapped your arms tighter around your legs. "I always wondered, what's wrong with me? Do I say the wrong things? Act the wrong way? Am I really so despisable that people actively go out of their way to ignore me?" You scoffed. "Guess I must be some kind of horrible person then."

"That's not true," Mattheo said immediately, surging forward in anger. "You're an amazing person. Whoever has just left you or treated you like that, they're arseholes. I won't do that to you. Never. I don't care how many times I have to say it 'til it gets through that pretty little head of yours, I like you, I care about you, I want to make you happy . . . and if leaving you alone and pretending like I never admitted that to you makes you happy, then that's what I'll do." He waited for your response, painfully hoping for a verbal one. However, you remained silent. Mattheo felt his heart sink. "Right then. Well."

He began to push himself off the floor to get up, but you quickly grabbed his hand. "Wait!" you exclaimed in alarm, finally meeting his eyes. "I - I lied before. I do care about you. Please don't go. Please."

Mattheo sat back down with an easy-going grin, like he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

"You really like me?" You asked, both breathless and doubtful all at once.

"Do you need me to prove it to you?" His grin grew smug.

"Yes, actually."

"All right then." Mattheo raised his hand to rest under your chin, tilting your head slightly to the side so you were facing him directly. Your eyes widened as he drew closer, his eyes glancing between your eyes and your lips. Breath growing shallow, you tensed as you could feel his humid breath on your lips. "I can prove it to you right now, if you let me."

You wasted no time in smashing your lips against his, hands coming up to cup both of his cheeks. Your eyes were shut tight as you relished in the feeling of his buttery smooth lips running against yours. He was a bit more passionate tha you had expected, but he had been waiting for years to do this. And whatever his imagination could try to conjure, it was nothing compared to the real thing.

Mattheo was the one to pull away but he was soon back to give you a quick peck, sming against your lips. "You're amazing - I don't think I'll ever be leaving you after a kiss like that."

You finally grinned, a true grin, gor the first time in a long time, and brought his face back down to yours to kiss under the stars.

Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!

[hollowfyshunsuikubo]

Mayuri Kurotsuchi Headcannons

A/N: Thie fic itself is going to take a while (Uni started up again and I am Suffering) so to feed yall before the self-indulgent smut im going to write, here's some SFW and NSFW headcannons. NSFW (and NSFW contents + warnings) is below the cut!

Mayuri Kurotsuchi x Gn!Reader (but Fem!Reader mentioned for NSFW)

Warnings: Smut, general Mayuri insanity, Slight Yandere themes, mentions of minor surgery, goofy silly moods

SFW:

You and Mayuri tend to have a very argumentative relationship once you've been dating for a few years

In the beginning, he was very possessive but also distant

He was very in denial that he felt anything, but he opened up after a while

You two have lots of arguments over morals and people

He believes that as long as you're safe, everything is fine

You're just trying to tell him that yes, you're safe. But the damned shinigami noble on the table getting a second heart because they paid for a years worth of funding is definitely not at that particular moment.

Hes often rude and blunt, but he means it in a good way. He'll often sound disinterested, but if you ask him about what you were talking about, he'll repeat it word for word and ask if you're going to continue or if he can keep working.

His version of being sweet is showing you his Lans and creations, but keeping you close my his side, his long nail always touching you if he needs to move forward or a little further away to show you something

Has definitely tried to show you how to dissect something odd, like another shinigami he picked up stole from the 4th Division. Needless to say, a fight broke out between you two, which ended with a scalpel and Akon both being thrown.

He also likes to have you sit on his lap while he's working.

Did he make a chair that he can sit in comfortably while you sit on his lap? Yes.

Does this chair have more comfort than any other chair in the 11th Division? Also yes.

Hes quite big on quality time you see, mixed with physical affection

Though some days, when he's more on edge than others, he'll opt to keep you in sight, but doesn't want to be touching you.

Like cuddling with you at night, when he can be bothered to sleep.

When he is very busy and can't make it to bed, he'll send Nemu with his regrets. He'd prefer to go himself, but it's far too busy.

He has contemplated installing a lavish, closed off, private, quadruple password locked room for you in his lab, just so he can see you easier, but he felt it may be too dangerous for you

He also enjoys seeing you chat with Nemu, though he does reprimand her if she gets too 'free' with you. Nemu is just happy her master is happy.

Nemu treats you like a mother. Yes I believe that Mayuri and Nemu are father daughter and not husband and wife come @ me. She enjoys going on "surveillance trips" with you (AKA walks around the Seireitei)

Moving on to nicknames and pet names, he doesn't really use them, but he does have clear favorites when he's in the mood. Baby and my dear are his go-tos if he feels mushy, but sweeting and rabbit are for his muh softer moments. He likes using rabbit as a teasing word. Not bunny, rabbit. He doesn't like bunnies.

He likes making sure you have things to do if you want to spend time alone, or if he's too busy.

His Captain's salary used to fully go towards funding the lab, but buying you things you want is also a good use of his money.

Hes never overstepped that particular boundary of excessive buying, though, especially if you're money conscious (all my people raised poor wya!)

Being with Mayuri is generally just an odd, but fun, if a little strained, time.

Tiny drabble:

It was cold today. You were bundled up as warmly as possible, attempting to not freeze before you go to Mayuri. You'd hoped to see him last night, you even stayed up far past your usual time, but Nemu poked her head around the corner and said that he'd regretfully be spending the night in the lab. You were welcome to join him, though.

You declined. It's been getting much colder, so you stayed in bed.

Now you wished you hadn't. You're tired and cold. A few Division members say hellos to you as you walk, and when you finally reach the lan, you see Mayuri in his chair, hunched over the console, looking at data.

"Nice of you to join me. Come, sit, now." He waved you over, not taking his eyes off the console. When you pause to wrap yourself up a little more, you hear the clacking of his fingers on the keys stop. "Sweeting, come here."

You forget about how cold you are and hurry on over. He's already leaning back in his seat, his hands away from his console, his brow irritated that he has to wait for you. You slide into his lap, and the smart chair registers that you're there. Another back pops up behind you, soft and squishy. But you opt to snuggle into Mayuri. His headpiece is a little annoying, but it's more endearing knowing you've seen what's underneath. That handsome face, alongside the soft lips that aren't covered with paint. He is finally able to get back to work, not saying another word.

That is, until he notices how many layers you're wearing.

"This lab has the best technology in the entire Soul Society, underfloor heating, and is warmed precisely so nobody is every distracted by the cold. If you're feverish or sick, go back to my room. I will provide you with warmth and a cure-all for your sickness." He doesn't look zt you just yet.

He feels a little insecure. How would you get sick? Is he not doing enough to keep you safe and healthy? Does he need to strengthen your immune system so he can spend more hours like this with you?

"I'm just a little cold, that's all." You reply gently. "There's nothing wrong with it. I'm not sick." Your reassurances did nothing to persuade him, but he supposed he could at least keep an eye on you while you're with him. At least you're with him. If you weren't, he have to take drastic measures to make sure you were. Nobody else was going to have you, that was for sure.

"Hmph. Fine." His clacking increased in speed. You closed your eyes, ready to finally cure the tired part of you, when you heard the clacking stop again and fabric wrap around you.

You opened your eyes to find he's wrapped his Captain's cloack around you, pulling you closer to him while also keeping you warm. The combination of his body heat the warmth of the cloak, and the renewed rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the keyboard fixed all your ills. The cold and your tiredness ebbed as you fell asleep in his arms, nestles close to him.

Despite the fact he was still working, he cursed you fot breaking his concentration. You were a little pest sometimes.

But at least you were his pest. He'd been working all night, after all... having you asleep with him, providing hum some much deserved affection as a reward for his hard work was worth it. After all, he was the most intelligent man in the Soul Society. He deserved to have a beautiful woman on his arm, in his arms, providing him with pesky emotions he didn't exactly not like, but rather enjoyed. He especially liked the strange fuzzy feeling he gets whenever he sees your peaceful sleeping face. What was that feeling called again?

NSFW:

a/n tried to keep it as gn!reader as possible, but there is ONE mention of a womb and pregnancy. (I fully believe Mayuri would give a biological male a working uterus and womb just to get them pregnant though)

WARNINGS: Sex toys, marking, nipple play, slight exhibitionism, breeding kink, degrading, power play, mentions of branding, mentions of knifeplay, semi-public sex, creampies, mentions of cock, womb mention/s (f!reader), masturbation, implied yandere in drabble

So, he likes toys.

Hes even made them for you.

Vibrating dildos in the shape of his cock to keep you coming while he's not there.

Vibrating panties that are so silent you can't hear it when you're right next to them.

A little toy kind of like the rose toy, except it's unsettlingly like his actual tongue

Needless to say, he's got you covered while he's away

When he's with you?

RIP.

Throwing it out there: he's a scientist. He's made his dick bigger. We've all seen how he carries Ashisogi Jizo. BDE.

So: 8.5 inches (cut, he likes to be clean) he keeps it unpainted (most of the time) and his balls are clean shaven, having slightly low. Good girth on him, enough to be somewhat of a stretch but not unpleasant. Really good hygiene down below too.

Anyway, he likes to study your reactions

The first few time you had sex, all he did was watch you. He even took notes.

You can't find the notes he took but you're sure that if you can't, nobody else but he can.

He's memorized your weakest, spongy spots

knows you live having your nipples sucked and licked and gently pulled.

those first few times were just you orgasming over and over and over again

loves biting. Marking is a big thing for him, as it shows that you belong to him.

Doesng like to mark with you cum though, as he feels it's a waste

Breeding kink? No

Hatred of wasting perfectly good seed with the potential to grow a genius nearly at his level within your womb? ✨️yes✨️

Is a more dominant man in bed, though likes to power bottom if you really want to ride.

The few times he's properly subbed for you, he didn't mind it, but he'd rather not

You made your sexual boundaries clear, but he's always asked permission to test them. A small brand he healed and got rid of here, a few interesting nights with knifeplay there...

Mayuri may be off the rails, but he'd do anything to keep you by his side. He knows your boundaries, and he knows his.

Moving on, he loves to degrade you.

Filthy slut, naughty whore, stupid bitch, and little cumdumpster seem to be his favorites

He loves the risk of being caught, as he loves the risk of you being humiliated

But he always makes sure you're never caught.

You'd be in an alley way, his cock thrusting in and out like a piston, one leg hoisted into the air, the cold air hitting your most sensitive part while he uses you like a toy, his other hand gripped firmly under your chin to tilt your head back to look at him.

You're dripping everywhere, the sounds of his dick going in and out of you something so lewd and pornographic you can't even contain your moans.

"You'd like to be caught, wouldn't you, you little whore? Go on, cum then, give the men who will walk past something to lick up and stare at."

When you cum, he shoves two fingers in your mouth, causing you to choke a little. He doesn't stop his hips, but you can feel your eyes rolling as he keeps abusing that sweet, sensitive spot inside you

Without warning, he's all the way in, his tongue running down your neck to bite the junction between your shoulder and neck as he cums deeply inside you.

Theres always a lot of it, to the point where it's almost like hes got years worth just stored there (even though your sex life is somewhat regular)

Oh yeah. I don't think Mayuri has a high sex drive, per se, I just think he likes to be close with you. Any chance he gets, he's like to be spending quality time with you and touching you in some way, and sex is quite good for that.

aftercare is pretty odd tbh

"You did better than I thought you would."

he generally likes to hold you close, and uses his captains hoari to wipe you down, if you want to be wiped down.

not many kisses, but he'll talk about the most insane things (i.e, how exciting it would be to study Ichigo Kurosaki, how annoying Captain Shunsui is, nitpicking over Akons work in the lab) quietly to help you get to sleep

once you're asleep, that's when the real aftercare starts

If your an afab, as much as he hates wasting it, he gives you a little injection to prevent his seed from taking hold in your womb

because of course, he's modified his semen to bypass any and all forms of birth control

after that, he cleans himself up, becayse he actually hates feeling sticky (as fun as it all was, that's one of his few icks when it comes to sex) he gets all the cum, the bodypaint, the sweat, and blood (if there is any) off before going back to bed

lastly, he'd make sure the bed was comfortable enough for him to settle down into, and he cuddles with you for as long as he can before either morning comes or he has to go back to work

he likes to cage you to him while you sleep, making sure you really can't escape

Tiny nsfw drabble:

His mouth devoured yours, much like how a lion would devour it's first meal in days. In the tiny corner of the lab, a hidden room long covered over but with no dust on any surface- he must have planned this, you think -he presses you against the wall, kissing you with such passion yet such possessiveness, you wonder if this is how the moon feels knowing the sun chases her. Knowing such heat is so close, yet only the sun can demand when you shine from it.

Everything in your mind turned into mush as he shoved you further against the wall, the pommel of Ashisogi Jizo pressing into your stomach, pushed a little further out than normal from his hard cock, still confined into his pants.

You tried. You really did. You knew his rule -"No touching until I tell you," -but it was so hard to abide by when you hadn't had him in over a week. It had been so busy, what with his newest big project...

So your hands moved to the front of his hakama, gently cupping his growing bulge through the fabric. You were rewarded so kindly for your disobedience, with a low growl from him and a hand flying to your throat to stop you from moving anymore, but the gentle grinding of his clothed cock against your hand. His lips nipped at yours and when you opened your mouth to gasp, he slipped his tongue inside, Ashisogi Jizo pressing painfully into your stomach as he leaned his entire body against you, quite desperate now to relieve himself of how hard he was. When he took his hand away from your neck, for a brief moment you had perfect clarity, and realized he wasn't going to punish you today.

Mayuri needed you. Over a week of yearning, battling himself and working so hard for his projects costs and hard work to pay off, he deserved to just stop talking. He deserved to not have to speak, to not say any words or make any sound. He just needed you.

The air was hot as you two writhed. His needs were coming and coming fast, much before yours, but when he dipped his head to bite and suck on your neck, his headpiece digging into your jaw, if felt as if you were about to orgasm just from that.

His hands were rough, pawing at your waist and ass, as if he could tear off your clothes and skin and get to the bones underneath, and make messy, bloody, raw love to your insides. Mayuri was a mess, to the point where he himself, who prided himself on his sharp mind and ability to be clear-headed through anything, began just desperately thrusting his clothes cock into your hand.

Your moans and little gasps when he kept attacking your neck with his lips and teeth, his body pain leaving marks of his lips all over your skin, but not marks like he loves to give, bruises formed by his lips that both adored and condemned you. Lips that lied and manipulated and coerced you into staying once, lips that now tried to make up for all lost time.

As soon as Mayuri found that sensitive spot on your neck- he didn't go straight for it this time, odd... -you scrambled wit your hands to pull down his hakama pants and grabbed ahold of his bare cock. The fleshy hardness of it, the girth, and the length... you couldn't do it alone, but he would help you out. He groaned into you neck, the second sound he's made since he dragged you into this small, abandoned room, pleased with you. He began thrusting, sloppily, into your hands, as you tilted your head back as he kept on kissing and marking your neck. One of his hands moved to paw at your chest, blindly reaching into your shihakusho to toy with one of your nipples as his tongue lapped at your neck.

You're breathy moans and whines, mixed alongside his occasional grunts, echoed in the room, and despite the locked door, he selfishly wished he'd dragged you anywhere else, just so nobody would hear you but him.

At the reminder to himself that you were his, his alone, and his until he chose to discard you (which he would never do), he grunts then exhales from the back of his throat, his cum coating your hands. He slowed his thrusts down, he stopped kissing your neck so hungrily, and he withdrew his hand from the inside of your shihakusho. His breathing was heavy still, and he looked at you with half lidded eyes filled with fire.

You felt a pull in your gut as his cock, which had been softening ever so slightly, hardened again. Mayuri kissed your neck softly, featherlight, before pulling his head back, but he didn't move his hips, or try to escape the grasp your hands had on his dick.

"You're not going to waste the next few, are you, my dear?" His voice is husky, raw with emotion. The look in his eyes reminds you of a man starved, a softly boiling rage born from need of something just beyond his reach. Mayuri leans forward to brush his lips against yours, his long nail on his right hand slowly tracing down the front of your disheveled shihakusho, opening it for his eyes and his eyes only. To see your skin, unmarred for over a week, displayed before him...

"I won't."

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, and his gaze flicks to yours again. He grins, a predator, a man who will take what he needs to soothe his hunger.

"Good. On your knees then, and don't be wasteful."

[thought--bubble]

There is still hope Isn't There? Pt 5

Tom Bennett X (Best friend's sister reader)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 1,562

There is still hope masterlist

Tom Bennett Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners & Dividers by @arcielee

Warnings:: None

A/N: Only one or two parts left to this not sure if i'm going to do one long part or two shorter parts. Sorry for the slow update i had to take a slight writing break for my sanity.

Josh sits at the table, chuckling to himself as he watches you and Tom do everything you can to avoid interacting with each other.

He watches as you stare at Tom until Tom looks your way and then watches you quickly pretend you were not looking, just for the cycle to repeat the other way.

"Would you like some tea?" You ask Tom in an uncharacteristically gentle voice, and Tom responds with a very respectful "Yes, please." Which finally sends Josh over the edge, laughing in hysterics.

Both you and Tom look at Josh like he has gone insane.

"Yes, please," Josh mocks between fits of laughter. "Who are you?" Josh continues laughing, wiping the tears from under his eyes. "Would you like some tea?" Josh mimics in a high-pitched voice.

"A bloke can't be polite?!" Tom's voice is laced with aggravation, his face a bright shade of crimson.

"A bloke can yeah. Not you, especially not to my sister. Never ave been. " Josh leans back in his chair, a smug smile on his face and his arms crossed, his eyes shifting between you and Tom.

You can feel your face burning and your chest getting tight, the urge to hurt yourself over the table and strangle your brother growing stronger by the second.

"I gotta go. Ummmm, " Tom stammers while rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, you're also gonna start looking for a job before the sun is even fully up?" Josh laughs again. "You're outta sorts, mate." There is a twinkle in Josh's eyes as he watches Tom scramble for his rucksack and shoot out the door at a record pace.

You sit across the table from your brother, completely mortified the heat in your cheeks unmistakable.

"Don't you look at me like that," he teases. "Any dolt with an ounce of sense in their head can see you two running circles round each other."

You want to deny it, but you can't. You look at Josh and sigh. When your mouth finally opens, you think you are going to deny Josh's allegations. Instead, a very telling question is asked. "It doesn't bother you?"

Josh slightly lifts his eyebrows, the smug smirk never leaving his face. "No, it doesn't bother me." He moves slightly in his chair before continuing."But, if he hurts you or acts like a fool, I will kill him, best friend or not."

You smile, more to yourself than Josh, but he sees it anyway.

"He's grown a fair bit, I know he's a good lad." Josh stands and starts clearing the teacups from the table. "So if I am the reason you two are acting like young children, don't."

You feel the heat collect in your cheeks, your eyes glued to the smooth wooden top of the kitchen table.

Josh chuckles once more before kissing the top of your head and snatching up his own rucksack before heading out the door to work.

"Have a good day!" He yells out on his way out the door.

As soon as he leaves, a comfortable silence settles around you as you sit alone at the kitchen table. Your smile is growing by the second until you finally jump up frin tour chair, and your hands fly over your mouth.

Josh just gave you his blessing, and you can't believe it. You jump and giggle giddily.

You attempt to distract yourself with chores throughout the day, your eyes shifting over to the door at every sound just waiting for Tom to return.

But he never does. The hours tick by, and he doesn't come back. You feel so frustrated, bursting at the seams, wanting to tell him about the conversation you had with Josh. Thinking if he knew Josh was ok with it, he would finally make that move and actually kiss you.

You groan in frustration as you get ready to leave for work, knowing it will be hours before you are able to tell Tom about your conversation with Josh.

You go over the conversation repeatedly in your head as you walk to the pub you work at. Trying to estimate Tom's reactions. You imagine him shocked and then thrilled, excited even. The visual in your head filling you with anticipation.

Right up until the moment you round the corner to get on Main Street, just a few steps from the pub to see Tom. Arm resting against the wall, smiling down at a very pretty woman.

Your eyes burn with tears desperate to escape, but you swallow them down.

Clearly, both you and Josh misread the situation, and you feel stupid. You put your head down as you try to pass them unnoticed.

Tom, of course, recognizes you and slightly recoils from the woman. "Off to work?" He calls out to you.

"Hmmm," you mumble in confirmation, not sparing him a glance. You couldn't stand to look at him in this moment. You fear you would burst into tears. It's your own fault, you think. You built this up so much in your head without knowing how Tom actually felt.

You walk into the pub and set down your bag and jacket, hands slightly shaking. You're frustrated. Upset, but mostly confused. Are you upset with Tom? Or yourself? You didn't even know. All you knew was that tonight was going to be a long, miserable night.

Tom led you on... didn't he? Or are you just so stupid that you saw something that wasn't there?

Your thoughts run rampant all night long through your shift. Your usually sunny disposition is dampened by your disappointment.

When your shift finally ends, you feel relieved quickly gathering your things and offering your coworkers a brief wave before nearly running out of the pub at lightening speed.

You try to focus on the clicking of your heels against the pavement as you start on your trek back home, desperate to keep the thoughts of Tom and his partner for the night at bay.

"Walking home alone, love?" You wince at the sound of his voice coming from behind you.

"Came back to walk ya home and find out ya already left! What you in such a hurry for? Josh, give you a new curfew?" He laughs as he pops a cigarette into his mouth, pulling out a match and lighting it.

"No. I'm tired." Your answer is short and curt. You don't turn to look at him, and the irritation you're feeling is very obvious.

"Right. You alright then? Someone givin you a hard time? I'll sort em. Just let me know who"

You can't help but roll your eyes. Is he really this clueless?

"Thought you had plans for the remainder of the evening. I'm surprised to see you." You start to walk ahead, your pace quick and head held high, not waiting for his response.

He runs a bit to catch up with you while he chuckles. "That what this is all about? The bird from outside the pub? You think I'm a tramp?" He takes a puff off his cigarette as he walks beside you. "I didn't mean to offend your delicate sensibilities, love."

If this were a cartoon, smoke would have shot out of your ears.

"I'm not sensitive, I just don't need to be walked home by a common whore" the words didn't seem as harsh in your head as they sounded when they came out. Although you were so deep in your frustration that you refused to apologize for it.

Tom's eyes go wide in surprise for a moment before he chuckles and stays quiet, simply walking beside you.

When you reach the flat, he clears his throat as if to say something, but with your emotions high, you quickly enter the flat and slam the door behind you, leaving him outside.

Josh looks up at you from his usual spot at the table. "Everything alright?"

"Obviously!" You yell before stomping upstairs, leaving a bewildered Josh sitting at the table.

When Tom finally quietly enters the flat, Josh is still sitting at the table waiting for him.

"Guessing all that was about you?" Josh waves his hand toward the stairs where he watched you stomp away in anger.

"Aye, she called me a whore" Tom forces a smile on his face while looking up the stairs absent mindedly.

Josh nearly spits out his tea while breaking into a laugh. "Did she now? Well, what did ya do to earn that title?"

Tom rolls his eyes, as he leaves the stairs and walks toward the living room.

Josh sighs and groans as he rises from the table to head upstairs to bed. Before going up, he stops and turns back toward the living room.

"Why didn't you just tell her you didn't do anything?" He says toward the darkened room where Tom lies frustrated on the sofa.

"What makes you think I didn't?" Tom retorts rolling his eyes and turning over onto his side.

"Because I still remember your golden rule"

Tom closes his eyes and chuckles, realizing how he has given himself away in this moment.

Josh laughs one last time before starting up the stairs. "You always said. It's rude to leave before morning. Yet here you are, on my sofa"

"Yeah, yeah," Tom mumbles to himself before closing eyes with one final thought.

"I'll tell her in the morning"

Part 6

To be added to taglists see HERE

[foxgangfoxgang]

Adore You 4 (Yandere! Sugar Daddy! Mingi x Yandere! Yunho x Black! Reader)

Do you tell him? How do you tell him? How do you tell the man who took you off the streets, has you living in a luxurious penthouse, sends you on endless shopping trips, and is practically catering to you that his best friend is a psychopath and possibly a murderer. You bite your nails worried about how Mingi would take the news if you told him, on one hand its the truth and Mingi should know the truth...on the other hand Mingi could possibly know and kill you for speaking up. That's probably what happened to the other women the Yunho mentioned.

The clocks hands seemed to drag as every minute felt like a year, the anticipation of Mingi arriving home felt like you were at the top of a roller coaster ready to go down the hill. 1 minute, 2 minutes, 3 minutes....you were about to go insane. Finally the front door opened as Mingi walked in hanging his coat. You jumped rushing up to him ready to greet him. Mingi looked to you and smiled gently...weird. You've never seen Mingi smile at you so warmly before, the only other time you saw him smile was when you two watched the news of the perv being exposed. The warm smile made you temporarily forget your main purpose of approaching him. "Your excited to see me" Mingi commented as he walked to the kitchen, "I am?" you blush as Mingi grabbed two oranges, he peeled one and handed it to you before peeling the other and savoring each piece of fruit.

You nibble on the tangy fruit as the silence comforts you both. Mingi cleared his throat as he looked to you "I was told that my...ex wife came here" Mingi began, oh yeah....Sara. Yunho had completely taken over your mind you forgot that Sara had came. "She did...she wasn't all that happy to see me" you said picking at the orange. Mingi frowned, he didn't like that his past was popping up, he didn't like that you now knew he was once married, would the arrangement you two had be soured by this fact, will Sara run you away...no, over Mingi's dead body will you leave him. "Listen...Sara is...a previous affair, if she comes by again let me know and I will handle her" Mingi's eyes turned cold, it scared you. The sudden change in tone and the cold look in his eyes made you back off from your original plan to tell him about Yunho.

"Anyway, we're going to cook dinner together, think of it like bonding thing" Mingi informed you. Cooking...you never learned how to properly cook, you either took leftover food from the soup kitchen or steal small snacks from the convenience store. "I...I don't know how to cook" you tell Mingi. The business man looked to you for a moment before nodding "It's ok Yunho's joining us so he'll help me out" your blood ran cold, Yunho's coming.

7pm would roll around as Yunho happily entered Mingi's penthouse, Yunho loved cooking with Mingi, it was a special bonding time for the two, it would remind Yunho of when they first met in high school. Yunho would see Mingi eating alone due to his asshole friends abandoning him their reason to leave was for Mingi eating slow, Yunho would join him for lunch from then on and those assholes leaving Mingi by himself suddenly disappeared. Yunho entered the penthouse holding a bottle of fancy wine. Clattering could be heard from the kitchen, Yunho giddily skipped to the area where he saw Mingi gathering pots and pans and you sitting on the counter watching him. Yunho’s mood slightly soured, he thought you would have gotten the idea to stay out of his way when he came over, guess you were more stubborn than Yunho thought.

“Yunho put the wine in the fridge and help me” Mingi called out. Yunho fixed his face and did as so “so what’s the plan tonight?” Yunho asked, Mingi pulled out ingredients “I thought about either kimchi fried rice or bulgogi” Mingi explained, Mingi looked to you “what do you want” you looked to the counter afraid to make eye contact with yunho or Mingi “um…how about kimchi fried rice” you said softly. Mingi took notice to your behavior change, “if you’re embarrassed about not knowing to cook it’s ok” Mingi smiled softly, the older man walked around to you grabbing your hand, Mingi guided you to the counter “here take out the kimchi and cut it in chunks” Mingi stood behind you as he grabbed a knife and guided you on how to cut the kimchi.

Jealousy bubbled in Yunho as he watched you two, how pathetic of you to pretend you don’t know how to cook to get Mingi to coddle you. Yunho prepped the rice as he watched you carefully cut the kimchi by yourself as Mingi cut up the green onion and garlic. “So… (Y/N), how’s life been since Mingi took you in” Yunho asked. You kept quiet for a moment wanting to choose your words carefully who know how Yunho will react. “It’s different, I didn’t have a lot of money before so I feel weird” you said quietly, Yunho hummed “so what did you do before meeting Mingi” you froze as did Mingi. Yunho tried to hide a smirk, the both of you were hiding something.

“I um…” you tried to think, “she’s a college student” Mingi blurted. Mingi wasn’t an idiot he knew if anyone were to find out that you were just some homeless women he picked off the street he’d be a social laughing stock. “Oh what do you study” Yunho asked. You look to Mingi who only nodded towards Yunho “n-nursing” you stammer out. Yunho refrained from rolling his eyes, nursing a typical answer, it’s easy to act as if you’re a nursing student given their busy and hectic schedule.

Yunho only hummed and continued to prepare the food, both you and Mingi let out a sigh of relief. The cooking would go by quietly as everyone was stuck in their own minds. Finally the food was ready, the three of you sat and ate the meal. “So Mingi, it’s almost time for our annual trip, do you have an idea on where you want to go?” Yunho said the smugness hidden in his voice. “Oh, I forgot…well we’ve been everywhere even visited some places twice…y/n where would you like to visit” Yunho could nearly break his chopsticks the way he gripped them in anger at the mention of you joining the trip. You look to Mingi and think, you’ve never been outside of Korea, you don’t know what the world is like, is it as cruel where you already are, or is it different being the arm candy of a wealthy man.

“Mingi she’ll probably be too busy with her school work to go on a trip” Yunho smiled his teeth feeling as though they may break with how hard he’s clenching them. “She can make up her work” Mingi said, Mingi was touched Yunho cared so much about your education however he felt bad lying to his best friend. “Now y/n where would like to go” Mingi asked again. You tried not to look at the glaring Yunho “uh, p-paris?” You say more as a question than an actual statement. Mingi smiled “Paris is perfect, you loved it when we visited right Yunho” Mingi looked to his best friend. Yunho forced a smile “ I did, it was such a great time for us” Yunho emphasized on the word us. “Then that’s where we’ll go!” Mingi beamed happy his two favorite people were going on a trip. Meanwhile both you and Yunho began to dread the upcoming trip with one another. One was for certain, only one of you would make it back alive.

[lotus02lavish]

✐✎ Yandere! Samurai Jack x Gn! Reader

➳{Never Ending Love}➳

"They call me Jack, Samurai Jack."

《🌹↬Headcanons 🧠// Romantic 💋// Samurai Jack 💌// Violence 💘》

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡ ˚₊꒷˚︶ɞ₊˚︶︶꒷꒦˚⊹๑‧₊ ᘏ ︶꒷︶₊·⊹๑⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

No longer the suffering of loneliness staying in his travels far and wide since you always accompany him, you are the one that makes Samurai Jack feel comfortable and perfectly natural with his full trust in you. No matter what happens next, he never wants to abandon you.

Always overprotecting you from anything in this dystopian future, especially from Aku. If that foul demon ever dares to lay a finger on you, Samurai Jack will definitely be merciless than he ever was before, and make sure that shape-shifting master of darkness does not have evil plans involving you anymore. "This fight is only between you and I, Aku!"

When a wicked creature or a new twisted robot is able to capture you as a bait for the samurai to come and rescue you, Yandere! Samurai Jack will not rest for days and will never stop looking every single place for you. By the time the stoic hero eventually found you, he cold-bloodedly sliced the kidnapper into ribbons, rage and brutality taking over his mind. "How could you take [Name] away from me!?"

‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊ The Royal Samurai runs towards you and gently pulls your head into his beating chest, reminding you that his heart is beating for you. Samurai Jack really misses hugging you tightly while fully smelling your scent and patting your back for comfort.  "Don't worry..." Samurai Jack whispered in a gentle tone, "I am here now; you are safe."

Samurai Jack is extra clingy to you, and he many times asks politely: "May I carry you?" "I want to hold you, please?" "Can I keep you this close?" Before picking you up in bridal style, cuddle, rest his head in your lap, and put your head on his shoulder.

If someone else is foolish enough to get near you and is flirty with no manners, Samurai Jack immediately pulls you closer to him, and he sends a death glare at the one who dares bother you. When you are not looking, Samurai Jack quietly eliminates the foe in a blink of an eye and pretends nothing happened.

꒰💌!🌸꒱ "Who confessed first?" To answer that lovely question, it is clear that Samurai Jack reveals his feelings to you. "I have fallen in love with you and will stay that way to the end of time. My love, are you able to see? Our relationship is intended to be."

"Ooh! From the looks of it, I think they're definitely yer type, laddie." Samurai Jack obviously asks his friend, the Scotsman, for guidance on how to be boyfriend material. His best pal just laugh his ass off to see the legendary warrior messing up his flirty and corny lines because of you. At the same time, the Scotsman is still supportive and gives a thumbs up to Samurai Jack becoming a maniac by impressing you with the 'water beetle' and 'peacock dance' moves. You confusedly join with the silly samurai and laugh together.

Yandere! Samurai Jack does not need to stalk you since you likely prefer to be close to him and not wandering everywhere away from his sight. Even so, he does not let his guard down.

Samurai Jack thinks it is cute that you get jealous when some ladies approach him in an attempt to woo and compliment him. The Samurai happily tells those women that you are his significant other, and he will always remind you that no one can ever be your replacement.

"Not even death itself can stop me from protecting you." Samurai Jack does not let death take both of you apart. He cannot lose you. You are the one makes him still feel alive in the faraway future of Aku's. If you die, Samurai Jack will go insane and do anything to bring you back to life. He even also willing to go to the underworld in search of your soul!

As a friendly reminder that Samurai Jack's patience can grow thin, he lashes his anger at you once in a lifetime. This Japanese Prince felt in deep remorse and cannot forgive himself.

This Japanese man positively showers you with the 'princess treatment' every single day and enjoyably intertwined your fingers with his. What is more comforting in the night is the time when he hold you close to his chest for warm and you caress his head.

When Samurai Jack interlocks his fingers with yours and gently swing each other hands back and forth while walking or running together to the faraway lands, he will smile happily, and his cheeks will start warming up. The shy Samurai thought that he is holding the hand of a sweet angel from sacred heaven. (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞ (っ≧ω≦)っ

Thereafter, Samurai Jack is touch-starved and patiently waiting for the perfect time and place to be in your warm embrace. Surely, he willingly obey each word you command him. You want him to untie his hairbun down to brush his long hair? Settled! You need to heal his scars and wounds while kissing every boo-boo you find at every inch in his muscular body? With pleasure 😏

You pointed out that he reminds you of a cat because of his eyes, his lips, and his silly acts sometimes. The samurai chuckles as he kisses your forehead and says: "You thought of me as your kitten? I am flattered."

The wandering samurai knew the gaze on each other's eyes with adoration had deeper meaning than words that left to be said. However, Samurai Jack and you cannot stand eye contact too long since both of you end up blushing so much and look away shyly.

What a wonderful feeling for the prince charming to experience a true love kiss with you! it feels like a sweet fairytale. Oh, he has lovely dreams of you are his spouse, returning to his right time and beloved home together, and living happily ever after.

In the alternate ending, Jack ultimately realizes that he belongs with all of his friends, including you wearing a crown like his, standing by his side to look upon the bright future ahead, and united to vanquish Aku once and for all time. Finally, you and Jack spend a life of endless bliss. And in years to come, the two of you will reminisce how both of you have brought to the story to an end...

≫─ "I cannot let you go because...without you by my side, I will not have my happy ending."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡ ˚₊꒷˚︶ɞ₊˚︶︶꒷꒦˚⊹๑‧₊ ᘏ ︶꒷︶₊·⊹๑⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley

♡ --- "Cause my insides are red

And yours are too

And the red on my face

Is matching you

And goodness you're bleeding

What a wonderful feeling

You're down and you're pleading

My head is just reeling." --- ♡

[fuctacles]

For @batboysxprompts Secret Steddie event. My prompt:

Quote: "You've never been touched like this before?" Song: 'Raw Deal', by Judas Priest Optional:  a leather bar AU/place, +18 content, set in fall Don’ts: Pregancy/breeding kink, choking/breathplay, vomit, scat, watersports

E | 2365 | cw: drugs | loose Cruising AU, leather bars, bicurious Steve, going undercover | tape dividers by @cafekitsune heart dividers by me

The door slammed closed behind him, leaving Steve alone in the empty hall outside the Captain’s office. In his hands, he was holding the turning point of his career, a special assignment he was dreaming of, handed him by the captain himself. A leather jacket. With his new address and keys in its inside pocket.

He was still buzzing with anger at his colleagues, at the hateful words they used and their unwillingness to take this on. It was mostly that, which pushed him to bite back and offer himself.

By the looks from his peers, it seemed it was their plan all along. To send the gay sympathizer in as one of their last straws. But will he be a short or a long one?

It’s not what he dreamed of when joining the force, certainly not something he felt comfortable with. But he was too pissed to back out, and the whole case was hitting a dead end.

A strip of paper with a crude map and a name led him through alleys until he passed the first leather-clad guy, then another, then groups of them. He kept catching stares that were both the same and completely different from the ones women would send him. He knew he was in the right place.

The bar itself was suffocating with its loud music and weird smells. But most of all, the mass of bodies, glistening with sweat and smattered with hair.

So much hair on so much bare skin.

The beer was lukewarm, giving no relief from the heat around him and he knew he was on his way to a bad headache. It was like stepping into a hazy dream. He was pretty sure there was a threesome happening in the right corner of his vision. There was also a real possibility he was getting intoxicated on the fumes hanging in the air alone.

A guy, clad in a dark tank top and sweat, leans on the bar beside him, his dark eyes flitting up and down appraisingly over his body.

“You look new here.”

“I am new,” Steve admits.

“New here or new-new?” The man raises his eyebrow, intrigued.

“New-new.” 

He lights up at that.

“I could show you the ropes,” he offers with a smile suggesting a joke Steve’s missing. He lets him pull them into the pulsing mass of bodies on the dancefloor anyway.

It takes him a couple of minutes to figure out the rhythm, let the music and the crowd seep into him, and guide his movements. While everything here was different, he’d been to bars before. He knows how to dance, knows how to flirt.

“What’s your name?” he asks loudly over the music.

The man’s smirk moved his trimmed mustache. He leans in, closer than any man ever has before.

“You can call me Spike.”

Steve nods.

“Sven.”

The man doesn’t move away, stays close and so does his lopsided mustache. 

“You look like Sugar to me.”

Steve smiles, surprised and flustered.

“Then Sugar it is.”

They dance, now closer but not uncomfortably so. Two guys beside them are grinding against each other, and the sight lights a fire under his skin. It’s a dangerous feeling, considering he’s on a job. Ah, and there’s a killer on the loose. It’s not the best moment to give in to his homoerotic fantasies.

So he plays the part of Sven, a shy, closeted bisexual who doesn’t make first moves, afraid of where it might lead him.

The last part distinguished him from Steve, who was insanely curious about what could happen.

Some making out, hopefully, wouldn’t foil his plans.

He doesn’t put Spike’s hands on his hips like he wants to, but steps a bit closer, and sways his hips in a certain way. 

A hand does land on him, but instead of pulling him in, it’s dragging him away.

“Back off, we’re dancing!” Spike pushes between him and the owner of the hand. Steve looks back, ready to snark at whoever is groping him, but he finds a familiar face.

He’s frozen for a second too long, but Edward Munson, the man still considered a main suspect by many, takes it in stride.

“Relax, Spike, we’ve met before. Haven’t we?”

Steve nods, earning himself a glare from Spike.

“The Freak? You said you were new to the scene.”

“Never said we’ve met here,” Munson clarifies, voice growing sharper with a warning. “Go find a different virgin, you perv.”

Spike grumbles something before leaving, and Steve is pulled into Munson’s chest. He huffs when their ribcages collide painfully. Everything is hot and sticky, and he wants to go home. Or rather, the temporary flat he’s renting while undercover.

“So Spike likes inexperienced men, huh?” he asks conversationally. 

“Yeah, but he also lives with two roommates who've known him for the past five years.” Munson rolls his eyes. “An unlikely suspect.”

“Thought you weren’t going to help us?” Steve raises an eyebrow. 

“Maybe I’m not helping you. Maybe I’m just keeping my eyes open because someone is killing gays in the area.”

Steve humms at that.

“So what’s your name, stranger?” he asks mockingly but Steve already knows he likes pushing buttons. Especially with cops, suspect or not. 

“Sven. But Spike seems to think Sugar works better for me.”

The man snorts, giving him a quick once over. 

“It does,” he decided. “Well, if you hear about the Freak or Popper, that might be me.”

“Popper?”

“Care for a hit?” He reaches into his leather jacket, bringing Steve’s attention to his bare chest. There were a couple of tattoos on his pecks and a fine dusting of hair.

From an inside pocket, he brings out a tiny bottle. It looks like a nasal spray with two cones instead of one.

“What is it?”

“Poppers,” he answers shortly before putting the thing in his nose and inhaling. “Probably my most popular ware. Great for anal, relaxes your muscles and stuff.”

He shakes the bottle in an offer and Steve takes it. Plunges into the sweaty world of leather and testosterone, as were his instructions.

They keep dancing and take a couple more hits. Munson tells him about all the regulars, the dos and don’ts of this world. His hand is under Steve’s shirt and his mouth is on his ear to keep their conversation private.

There is so much to take in.

“Where do I get pants like that?”

Munson follows his line of sight and sees a hairy ass peeking from a cut-out in leather pants. He grins back at him.

“I can show you a place.”

Two weeks in and Steve is barely focused on his assignment. The breeze on his ass is all he can think of. The stares he attracts, the fact that he’s almost offering himself on a silver platter. He could just lean a bit more forward on the bar, bend his spine, anyone could just stand behind him, grind against him, and…

His cock gets heavy just at the thought and he does lean in. Can’t help himself.

He almost sighs when a hand scopes the globe of his ass.

“You’re blending in quite nicely,” he hears Munson, Eddie, in his ear. Of course it’s him. “Just another slut begging to be touched by a random pervert.”

Turns out he’s into dirty talk now as well. Who would have thought?

“You have a really nice ass, too. I think the pants were a good choice,” he says, squeezing. “How do you feel in them?”

Frozen between pressing into the touch and squirming away, Steve weighs his words.

“Like candy on display. An offering.”

Eddie humms, suddenly closer.

“Yeah? What are you offering?”

He doesn’t know. The idea of gay sex had never really crossed his mind but for the past week, it’s all he can think about. He keeps wondering how far he is willing to go with the charade. If his curiosity will turn into exploration.

The palm presses on his tailbone and slides down, a single finger tracing his crack, but not pushing between the cheeks. It’s still tantalizingly close to his hole. Steve’s fingers scrape on the bartop in front of him.

“What? You’ve never been touched like this before?” Eddie asks teasingly. “Of course not,” he answers himself. “This is not your scene. You shouldn’t be here.”

Steve straightens up. He doesn’t want to turn around for some reason, so just presses against him, back to chest.

“I’m doing my job.”

“I could do it.”

“You’re not trained,” Steve reminds him, angry at the turn in the conversation. Places Eddie’s free hand on his middle. His fingers flinch at the skin-to-skin contact and Steve feels pride in his choice not to wear anything under his jacket today. Eddie traces the hair on his chest.

“Well, we have the same chances against a gun to the head.”

“He uses a knife.”

“And now you’re spilling confidential details. Not very professional.”

“Everyone knows that,” Steve argues but he’s already irked by Eddie’s prodding.

Speaking of prodding…

There’s still a finger, lazily tracing his ass.

He likes it. He can admit this much.

“Maybe it could be my scene,” he says quietly, turned enough for the other man to catch. Eddie makes an inquiring sound, to which Steve puts his palms against his, making him press harder against his skin. The finger on his ass slides between his cheeks.

“You could show me the ropes?”

Eddie lets out a husky, surprised laugh.

“Pun intended?” 

“Pun very much intended.”

He’s making a mistake. None of this is worth it and he’s risking his assignment, failing his precinct. Letting a murderer run around, knife in hand, killing innocent men.

These are his thoughts when Eddie slips his fingers in and out of his ass. It’s weird but not unpleasant, the drugs are doing their job of helping him relax. But the appeal is lost on him and it’s a pity because he really warmed up to Eddie, hoped they could be friends, solve the case together. But now it’s gonna be awkward, because-

All his doubts are cut short when Eddie finds his prostate, nearly making him choke on his spit.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “Okay.”

Eddie chuckles from between his legs.

“Okay?”

Steve nods, blinking at the cracking ceiling.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get it. Do it again?”

“Of course, Sugar.” He leans in to plant a kiss on his leather-clad thigh before going to town on his prostate.

Steve arches off the bed in a silent scream and with a little help of a hand on his dick, comes all over himself and the pants he’s still wearing. His head is too heavy to lift properly and the gasps of breath aren’t helping but he looks down Eddie’s body with a frown. This was so much easier with a woman. He licks his lips and tries to get an elbow under himself. 

“Do you want to…”

Eddie looks up at him from where he’s wiping cum off the leather.

“Want to what?”

Steve scrunches his nose.

“Fuck me.”

He stops what he’s doing and sits up. He lost his pants before so his dick stands hard and proud between his legs.

“I do,” he shrugs matter-of-factly. “But I’ll be fine.”

Steve’s shaking his head before he’s even finished talking.

“No. Do it.” He uses what little is left of his strength to flip on his stomach and raise his ass. He moves it in a way he hopes is inviting. “I’m still curious.”

Eddie’s silent for alarmingly long and he’s starting to feel he said something wrong, but then the man lets out a choked sound. The mattress dips under his weight when he moves closer. 

“Are you sure?”

Steve considers the ugly pattern of Eddie’s wallpaper.

“No,” he decides. “But I want to know. Just use a fucking condom.”

Eddie scoffs and grabs his ass in both hands, kneading his cheeks.

“Of course.”

When he enters him, it’s like nothing else Steve’s ever felt. His dick goes so much deeper than the fingers and the stimulation on his prostate is twice as prominent. Especially now that he’s already come. He didn’t think he was gonna do it again any time soon but Eddie’s dick might just prove him wrong. 

And it’s not just the stimulation doing him in. There’s so much more to take in now.

There’s a man behind him, pounding into him with big hands holding his hips. He’s under him, bent with his ass up, face in the sheets, and rubbing against them as his whole body rocks for another man’s pleasure. He likes being used, likes being on the receiving end, he realizes. Already knows it’s not going to be a one-time experiment.

Eddie grunts behind him, low and deep, and his hips snap harder against his ass, fingers digging painfully into his skin. He can feel him twitch inside as he climaxes and Steve follows, stuffing his face in the sheets to hide his pathetic whine. He hasn’t been this drained after sex for a long time, and he wasn’t even the one doing the fucking.

Eddie probably felt the same, because he collapsed on him, all heavy limbs and itchy stubble against his back.

“You were so tight, so hot and perfect,” he mumbles against his skin, leaving tiny kisses in his wake. Steve didn’t know what to do, because he never thought what he would do after the sex. What they would do.

Thankfully, Eddie’s hazy blissed-out brain has an idea.

“Can we cuddle?” he asks, almost inaudible with his face pressed into Steve’s shoulder.

“Sure,” he answers in a hoarse voice because the idea sounds heavenly. “Lemme just…” he shimmies out from under Eddie who makes a displeased sound but Steve has to get out of the leather pants before he falls asleep. He does so as quickly as possible and falls back on the bed.

It takes a moment for their boneless limbs to align comfortably but it happens and Steve finds himself being the little spoon for the first time in his life. He quite likes it, he decides. 

[lucero-is-here]

DROPS IN COVERED WITH SNOW

Good evening, morning or afternoon ladies and gentlemen! I am your host! !̷̢̢̦̲̱̬͓̘̖̩̦͓̭̤͈̯̬̗̩̺̩̑̾͒͊̊͌̒̍̚̕͝͝ͅ?̸̧̢̡͖̰͎̦̱̣̪̪̗͔̘͙̜̼̿͆̇ͅ! Today we have Duncan Young! as for the other requests that are insanely overdue! you have my apologies!

requested by:

here he is:

let’s get to him!

- he gets almost no sleep. he is severely sleep deprived and he has no intention of getting more sleep in future

- bisexual

- he genuinely cares for Amy, and he really wants her to be safe. he really does care for his sister.

- he hates his mom a lot. he never wants to see her again. after he went to jail, he was happy because it meant he didn’t need to see his mom again.

- really rough and dry hands. he uses a lot of hand cream, but it doesn’t really help.

- Duncan got some counselling in jail to help him become better mentally. he really appreciated it, and he opened up a lot regarding Miriam

- he hates himself. he’s constantly thinking back to if he was just more careful, if he was more cautious, then he wouldn’t have become wheelchair bound in the first place

- when he first tried learning to walk again, he fell down so many times he had bruises all over himself.

- he’s really scared of dying. he doesn’t know what’s going to happen, and he doesn’t like thinking about it either.

- he likes strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries very very much.

- he likes doing sudoku puzzles, word puzzles and crossword puzzles in his free time. he thinks it’s a good way to pass the time, and he has a ton of fun doing them.

- he’s super damn good at chess. he plays with Amy sometimes, and she always loses to him.

- he can eat spicy food but he doesn’t like spicy food so he won’t eat it.

- he wears socks to sleep. he thinks it’s comfortable and he has a little sock collection too.

- he usually wears boots. he thinks it’s more convenient and suitable, since he mainly lives in white peaks.

- after Virginia died, he felt pretty angry at himself for no protecting his childhood friend, and he ended up punching a wall to try to feel better about himself. but he only bruised his knuckles and caused some bleeding.

- he likes cats. he thinks they are lovely and he had a pet cat. it would sit on his lap and purr while he pet it.

- one of the reasons he dislikes hus mom so much is the way she constantly reminded him of his job as a police officer. he hates remembering it because it reminds him how helpless he has become. with Miriam constantly reminding him, he was never able to full move on. he still thinks of his past

- He ate dirt as a kid. he didn’t know why but he liked eating dirt. Amy had to make him cough out a lot of dirt because he ate a lot-

- If you were in a relationship with him, he would ask if you would still love him as an earthworm. He would go up to you and ask: Y/N, will you still love me if I was an earthworm?

- He has a teddy bear, and he secretly sleeps with it every night. the teddy best gives him a lot of comfort. Amy ends up taking the teddy bear, and sending photos of the teddy bear to Duncan a lot. the photos include the teddy bear wearing silly clothing, in a party hat, at a party…

- He talks to Amy every now and then. she always finds an excuse to talk to him and to check in on him. he admits to himself that he likes how Amy visits him, and he does miss her to an extent. (both siblings partly resent each other, but they are trying to move past that)

okay that is it. see you. goodnight

[starvedvampire]

a little introduction before you proceed

hi everyone, my name is Sabre🩸i’m 25, i only use he/him pronouns, although i don’t identify as 100% male. i’m transmasc, in any case. a bisexual switch*, i welcome all queer people to this space (especially fellow transmascs hi there).

*sub-leaning, usually i only feel comfortable domming people i’ve developed an emotional connection with, but we can try

please keep in mind that i’m in a fulfilling relationship with my partner, @my-vampires-favourite-treat (yes matching usernames 🥰). she is not only the object of all my love and adoration, but also my proud owner and my lovely bun🌻 my mind, body and soul are hers🖤 (also she’s responsible for so many of my most recent kinks omg i fucking love her)

we’re both polyamorous tho, so if you want to sext/flirt with me that’s cool, just as long you know i’ll communicate it to her

please remember that this blog is for me and me alone. if you enjoy the things i post or rb, that’s great, i’m glad to know there are others who share my insanity, but keep in mind i don’t owe anyone here anything and i will block whoever makes me uncomfortable or disrespects me.

I firmly believe the best experiences related to intimacy are the ones that include enthusiastic and clear consent. even if some of the scenarios in this blog don’t explicitly show it, never forget that all sexual interactions fundamentally require consent from all parties involved, as it’s crucial to have it before you engage in kinks (also while you’re engaging bc it’s important to check up on your partner).

Kinks, asks, terms, DNI below the cut…

🩸fuck yES: monsterfucking, aliens, demons, tentacles, slime, belly inflation, oviposition, hucow/lactation/breast expansion, biting and blood as in vampirism, dumbification, breeding (pregnancy but only in theory, never in practice), praise and degradation, corruption, drooling, use of aphrodisiacs, body worship, restraints, humiliation. pet play bc my partner got me into it 🌻 hypno and voyeurism are both tumblr’s fault

🩸 maybe/sometimes: priest kink, cnc, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, hierophilia, light intox (alcohol), r4pe play (idk, still questioning this one)

🩸 dislike/don’t include me: birth (mentions are fine but no graphic descriptions), guns, belly bursting, gore, feet, anything unsanitary

🩸 hard no: detransition kink, misgendering, incest, dd/lg, age play, bestiality

Regarding asks and dms:

🩸 to be honest when it comes to messages i’m not consistent at all but you can try your luck if you want. just please ease into it before jumping into graphic stuff, say hi and your pronouns and stuff.

also please don’t text me in a sexual way if you’re under 21, over 35 or identify as a straight man.

🩸as for asks, please send more and give me an excuse to touch myself (just keep my pinned info in mind)

Terms you can use when referring to me:

Please only use these, i will only accept others if i’ve previously agreed:

🩸pet and filth names: darling, slut, cumslut, cockslut, pet, love, whore, beloved, sweetheart. call me good boy/pretty boy and i will literally melt🖤

🩸body parts: regarding to the ones that may cause me dysphoria, please only use cunt, hole, tdick, dick, cock, strap, clit, chest and tits. terms for other body parts are all fine.

DO NOT INTERACT / WILL BLOCK YOU IF:

❌ you’re a minor (under 18) or your age isn’t visible in your bio/pinned.

❌ if you send me pictures of genitals with no context/unprompted, i will block you

❌ you fetishize trans people/trans experiences. remember i’m a person and i am worthy of respect just like everybody else

❌ you’re a terf, swerf, transmed, pro-life, ableist, racist, misogynist, homophobic, islamophobic, antisemite. bigots in general please don’t come near here

❌ thinspo blogs stay the fuck away

❌ p*dos i will fucking report you, don’t try me🔪

Tags i’ll be using:

🩸#sabre posts: for random thoughts and whatever

🩸#thirsty sabre: this is my horny license which i can whip out at a moment’s notice

🩸#sabre types: for answering all your horny asks

Anon tags: #💜 #💫

the #🌻 is reserved for my beloved bunny

*i’ll try to tag my kinks as they appear in my posts but i get distracted easily so no promises.

i reserve the right to change/update/alter this at any given time

🖤🩸that’s all, remember to take care of yourselves while misbehaving🩸🖤

[blackjackkent]

Nice.

This was one of the more intense "boss" battles that we've had so far; Malus had a LOT of health and he and his little nurse friends hit HARD. Hector and Karlach both have less than 50hp left between them.

But it's done. He won't hurt any more Selunites (or anyone else for that matter).

The game does not actually give us the chance to give Shadowheart a "what the fuck" for trying to agree with any of what Malus was saying, but that's never stopped me before. If the game will not provide me with conflict, I will write my own. Drabble time!

Hector is soaked in blood when the battle finishes. Some of it is his. More of it is Malus's. It is spread an inch deep on the filthy floor of the surgery.

He hardly seems to notice. He simply stares down at the unmoving body of the "surgeon" with an expression of cold fury on his face.

"Lie there, you blasphemous dog," he mutters hoarsely. "And be damned to you."

"Soldier?" Karlach lays a hand gently on his shoulder. "Hector...you all right? Breathe."

He shakes off her grip. At any other time, both of them gravitate towards those moments of touch - it's still so new, so extraordinary that it is even possible - but he does not want her comfort in this moment. He is too lost in the maelstrom of emotions coursing through him. And on some level, deep down, he hates the loss of control that Malus drove him to. He hates Karlach seeing him in this moment of undisciplined rage.

"The man on the table?" he asks.

Karlach shakes her head. "Dead."

"Better that way," Shadowheart puts in. Her voice is troubled. "There wasn't much left of him."

Something in Hector seems to stir again at the sound of her voice, and he wheels around abruptly and - to the surprise of all of them, not least himself - he lunges at her. Quarterstaff forgotten, one of his fists erupts in a wild swing at her face, which would connect except that Karlach catches his arm and yanks him backwards.

"Whoa! Soldier, wait--" she snaps, wrestling him into an embrace that binds his arms as he struggles in her grip, trying to lash out at Shadowheart, who has not moved a muscle as he came at her.

"You-- how DARE you--" he snarls. "I have walked with you down many dark corridors, Shadowheart, but this-- you look at this--" He manages to shake off Karlach's hold and gestures at the sea of blood around them. "You look at this and see a 'stinging truth'? Have you truly gone so far into the abyss? Are you insane?"

Now she does flinch, and her eyes flick away from him towards the floor. "I am not mad," she says hollowly. "Do not mock me for daring to believe what I have been taught. You do the same, every day of your life."

Again his fist flies forward - again Karlach catches it and drags him backwards, this time assisted by Gale, who grabs hold of Hector's collar, an unreleased Hold Person spell glowing in the palm of his free hand.

"Will you calm down?" the wizard hisses. "Our situation is dire enough without us turning upon each other like a pack of wild hyenas in a feeding frenzy!"

"She-- she--" Hector sputters. The energy is starting to fade out of him but he isn't ready to let go of it yet. While he is angry, while he is lost in it, he does not have to face everything that still lies ahead. "She claims that this is what she has been taught! Is that what you mean, Shadowheart? You mean to claim this as your field of honor?" He kicks a boot into the pooled blood, sending it splashing around them. "Is this brutal surgery what you were taught? What you feel is right? Will I wake up to your knife at my eye one night, ready to teach me the meaning of absence?"

There is a long, strained silence. Shadowheart does not look at him; her eyes are fixed on the ripple of blood next to his boot toe. "No," she finally mutters, and the pain with which she says it is visceral. It goes to his heart, in spite of all his anger.

He sags in Karlach's arms, his eyes closing for a moment. Gale's grip on his collar loosens; the pale pink light of the held spell fades away.

"No to which question?" Hector asks, his tone softer now, something like his usual voice but thick with exhaustion. "No, you will not stab me in my sleep? No, it is not what you were taught? Or no...you do not feel it is right?"

Shadowheart does not elaborate, merely turns away and walks up the stairs out of the theater. They all watch her go, and then Karlach hoists Hector up and fully onto his feet with a grunt.

"Gods, Soldier," she says. "Remind me never t' get on your bad side, eh? Never seen you like that..."

"You've never implied to me that you enjoy watching a ritual torture," Hector says gruffly.

She shrugs. "Mm. Well. Think you might be going a little hard on her. 'f you really think she actually thought this was all a good idea, and wasn't just parroting lines, you definitely weren't paying attention."

That's likely true enough; he was far too deep in anger to notice exactly how Shadowheart said what she said. "I just..." He trails off, pauses, then rubs a hand down his face. "I just couldn't, Karlach. I couldn't stand it anymore..."

"I know, love," she says softly. "We're all owed a breaking point, now 'n again. Just...keep it pointed forward, yeah? We're still in this together. That hasn't changed."

He draws a slow breath, lets it out. As the adrenaline fades, he starts to become aware of the myriad of deep gashes Malus's scalpels left in his body. A particularly deep cut across his side is still bleeding freely, soaking into his robes. Karlach, too, is in a terrible state, with a cut over one eye and a chunk of the metal in her chest exposed where the surgeon's bonesaw ripped into her.

"We should get cleaned up," he says quietly.

"Aye. No argument here." Karlach glances at Gale, who - of the entire party - is the only one who emerged from the battle without a scratch. "Starting to think you've got the right of it, y'know," she quips dryly. "Standing in the backline, shootin' fireballs and all. Wish I'd thought 'a that when I took up soldierin'."

Gale smiles faintly. "I think we both know you'd grow terribly bored with such a sterile, clinical existence."

"Yeah, well, I think at this point we could all use a little boredom."

[dangermousie]

Farscape Rewatch - Different Destinations, 3x05

I think DD is the single most depressing, bleakest episode of Farscape and one I find hardest to watch and rewatch; it makes me cry. There are more heartbreaking episodes out there, true. Episodes I ended up sobbing in more than I do here (DMD for one). But the reason DD is so profoundly bleak is that the message, the meaning of the story seems to be: there is no point in trying, anything you do makes it worse and there is nothing you can do to make it right.

Because the whole situation is ultimately no one’s fault? Or everyone. I suppose, if you want to really attenuate the blame, you can blame John, because he wanted Stark to be comforted. Stark is, after all, now near catatonic in his loss of Zhaan. I think his initial composure was just shock and it wore off and he descended into this. Here he is imitating Zhaan’s words and gestures, as if he’s turning himself into a facsimile in grief.

I think that part of the reason that John wants to comfort Stark is because John is, despite everything, despite the fact that it has been beaten out of him until there is only narrow scope, is innately kind. But another part is that I think John recognizes a certain kinship, with insanity in Stark, and with loss of love driving one mad. It’s further and twisted but there and I think John has a certain ‘here but for the grace of God go I reaction. I love the scene with D’Argo, Aeryn, John and Stark, where Aeryn, frustrated, turns to D’Argo if he is feeling lonely because he and she are the only ones not hearing voices in their head. 

Or I am thinking of a later scene in ‘Meltdown’ when John tells Stark that Aeryn ‘is my Zhaan.’

But yeah, to give borderline insane, grieving, and very powerful energy being a vid which is half peace treaty, true, but half last battle? Bad idea. But no one in their right (or even wrong mind) would expect a tear in time created by Stark. We can’t blame John for it any more than we can blame Stark for creating the tear, or D’Argo and Aeryn fighting when they got there (they are attacked) etc etc. And John almost did fix everything right, if that nurse didn’t shoot the general at the last minute. I understand her, but I just want to shake her and yell ‘stupid woman.’

The is one of the episodes I get mildly frustrated with the crew playing ‘pin the blame on John’ game, even though they don’t do it overly much, and it’s frustration talking, not genuine blame.. It. Is. Not. His. Fault. UGH. Stop. I know, I know, emotional masochist. Still, come on.

I love the surreal scene of Scorpius playing the harmonica, in cowboy boots with ‘Andy’ on them. And I love Stark’s kindness, even in the midst of his own grief and madness, towards the little girl, Citrina. I never realized before that when he hugs her, once she said she never cried when her father died, he is crying instead and for her. Another transfer of sorts.

He is so gentle throughout, in a way death is his mileau.

But the show, in its consistent bleakness, does not allow a comfort of a peaceful death or life after or anything but bleakness. It refuses even crumbs of comfort.

Or Aeryn, amazing Aeryn, learning that the PK hero Deacon was still a hero, just a very different one, and that underneath the propaganda myths is truth of honor, and the past where PKs were not yet perverted but were defenders of truth and justice. And having to send this kid to die and it ending up meaning nothing in the scheme of things, except another burden for her. She has more optimism in the beginning of this episode than John (who is utterly bleak in his worldview and yet somehow it still goes below his nonexistent expectations, still breaks his heart.)

I love D’Argo’s moment of bonding with the kid, as well. But he is not as distraught at the end because ultimately, both he and Aeryn are tougher, soldiers from birth by nature and nurture and culture and blood. Unless it’s the death of a few very specific people, they can function on, stiff upper lip, no wound on them as bad as John’s, who is despite it all, just a talented amateur.

And so we end the episode with John utterly hollow, broken, sitting there just sifting sand through his fingers, because yes, they minimized the damage but the nurses were slaughtered anyway, the same nurses who would have been saved if they never went through. And I love that, as always, it is Aeryn who is there for him at his lowest, who is there to answer his hopelessly decent person’s ��What was the point? [of the murders]’ with her PK-nihilistic ‘There probably was no point.’

The Universe is cruel and even trying to help ends up worse and how far has John come (been broken) from the idealist of the beginning, and how much further into darkness and despair he still has to travel. I think he is so shattered because he never gets truly used to the cruelty of the Universe. I wonder if it’s because he’s had a safe, proper childhood. It makes him fight because of his burning sense of injustice, but it also makes him vulnerable the way Aeryn and D’Argo, who are soldiers by birth, culture and breeding, or even Chiana and Zhaan never are. 

I love that at his lowest moment in this ep, in this season so far, Aeryn is there for him (I remember years ago on Farscape boards someone pointed out that her name, ‘Aeryn Sun’ is really ‘air and sun,’ two essentials for living. Because that is what she is to John. I have no idea if the makers thought of it, but how incredibly appropriate.)

And the fact that John tried to go back, to fix it, or to save them and die trying is…GUH. I love Crichton so much. Of course, I really don’t see how it’s his fault (not even not leaving the guns, they couldn’t leave future technology), so it’s just his enormous sense of responsibility (just as that is what made him talk to Nurse and tell her they were leaving, as if he wanted to be focal point for blame later).