#and i think i took the wind out of my own sails

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (4/?)

Word Count: 2,270

Chapter 4

"Meet me on your best behavior, meet me at your worst…" - Death Cab for Cutie

Wondering who-the-fuck-in-Hell would be there knocking this late at night; Lucifer opened his door. Seeing that it was, in fact, Alastor standing at his threshold with a seemingly pleasant smile across his face; Lucifer immediately bristled.

“What in fuck’s – wait. Is that wine?” Lucifer peered behind Alastor’s waist; seeing his separated shadow clasping a large bottle of Riesling and a pair of wine glasses.

“Yes. I thought it might pair well with our…discussions. May I?” Alastor asked him, politely.

“…yeah, ok.” Lucifer stepped aside; letting him in.

Alastor stepped inside; his shadow following close behind. The shadow paused briefly beside Lucifer; offering him the bottle. Lucifer took it, and the shadow swept further inward to be closer to Alastor. Looking at the label; Lucifer closed the door.

“Where in Hell did you get this!?”

“I don’t just deal in souls; your grace.” Alastor told him. “And I’m rather partial to a rare vintage every now and again. This one has been made ready for us to enjoy.”

“No shit. Damn.” Lucifer led him to a small suite; directing him and his shadow to some plush chairs and an ornate table for them to recline by. There were less rubber ducks and circus trinkets scattered throughout here than were piled in his work-room. Alastor didn’t seem to pay much attention to the surrounding room though; his gaze never straying across items, walls, furniture, etc. He was very focused on his business here.

Alastor’s shadow; taking the bottle from Lucifer – opened it and began pouring wine into the two glasses. Alastor and Lucifer both sat down. Lucifer reached across for his wine glass; then leaning back he asked:

“So…what the fuck do you want to talk about?”

“I’m sure you are well aware of the subject matter that I wish to address with you tonight.” Alastor said; taking his own glass from the table and gently swirling the liquid. His shadow excused itself into a dark corner nearby.

“Hm…how forthright of you. You seem to be in a more…agreeable…mood tonight than you were yesterday.”

“The extermination is merely a couple months away…I had hoped that I might avoid having to address my…“rut” until sometime after, but I’m afraid that won’t be the case.” Alastor explained. “I’d like to discuss the best…approach to the problem; if you are so inclined.”

“Uh, huh.” Lucifer said dismissively. “So, what exactly are we discussing then?”

“I’m afraid that the effects of the cycle will greatly influence my duties in safeguarding Charlie and the hotel. During that time, I won’t be getting much sleep and –“

“Do you actually sleep?” Lucifer interrupted, prodding him.

“Yes.” Alastor answered him honestly. “Maybe not as much as most but I do require a reasonable amount.”    

 “I must have really taken the wind out of your sails.” Lucifer tipped his glass to his lips. “I didn’t anticipate you coming here and being so candid with me.”

“Yes, well, I can admit when I’ve made an ass of myself.” Alastor allowed.

Knowing this was as close to an apology as he was liable to get; Lucifer stated: “Well, I won’t say that I’m sorry. If anything, I think I should have gutted you sooner.”

Lucifer waited for Alastor to make a quip at that but then; he said nothing. Instead, he raised his own glass to sip from – offering no comment.

Interesting.

“Ok, so I assume you are wanting to formulate some plan going forward, is that it?” Lucifer clarified.

“Indeed. Initially, I preferred the idea of you safely displacing me from the hotel until I cycled out but, the timing is not ideal. There’s too much to be done and I don’t like the idea of leaving the hotel unguarded for any extended length of time.”

“Ah, lock you away in a tower just like you’re Rapunzel and I’m the dragon.” Lucifer japed; unable to help himself.

“I don’t recall a dragon in that particular fairy tale.” Alastor remarked.

Lucifer nearly choked on his wine. “The fuck do you know about fairy tales!?”

Alastor shrugged then waved him off; “Essentially…I suppose, but it’s not a good solution; not now.”

“Oh?” Lucifer absently traced a sharp claw around the rim of his wine glass. “How long do these things usually last for you, anyway?”

“You are somewhat familiar with Cervidae demons, yes? You’ve commented on it once before. We are commonly known for our deer-like tendencies. One very prominent one being that we experience fluctuating periods of cyclic mating periods or “the rut”. There’s a lot that gets rather muddled with it though; it’s confusing even for us demons that experience it because each and every individual is different in the timing, frequency or intensity of their own personal mating cycles.”

“Sounds frustrating.” Lucifer offered.

“It…is. I never know when a rut will happen or for how long. I can usually tell when one is approaching due to certain…changes. Even now though; I know one is coming I just don’t know when. I could start the cycle tomorrow or in a couple of weeks; it’s terribly inconvenient. Judging by personal experience; my cycles range anywhere from part of a day to several weeks. Unfortunately; avoidance is what lengthens the period. If I…sate, the need and rather quickly, the period tends to be much less.”

“So what if I contact Asmodeus? I’m sure we could find you some willing participant from the lust ring to fulfill whatever needs you need satiating.” Lucifer suggested. “He might even have another Cervidae in mind.”

Alastor shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with that. I assume when you offered and agreed to our deal that it was implied that you would be the actual one to…manage this. I’m afraid now it might have to be quite literal. Lilith wasn’t wrong in saying that I’ve killed other demons during my rutting. After your explicit demonstration yesterday; I am confident you would be well equipped in governing my actions.”

 “Honestly, I meant it in whatever way you wish to take it. I’m no prude.” Lucifer shrugged; tipping his glass. “While we’re on the subject though; I’d really like to know –“

“If you are referring to my moment of sexual homicidal infamy; I’d rather not discuss it.”

Lucifer very much wanted to prod more into it; but, he could see that Alastor was making a great effort here in being professionally courteous. Which led him to his next question;

“So, what exactly is your deal with all of this?” Lucifer asked him; setting his wine glass down now. “You’re here pitching off your plans to me like we’re discussing something terribly unpleasant. I get that you might think sex is beneath you; or rather you’d prefer you didn’t need it but, c’mon…if you have to go through it anyway, why not own it and enjoy it?”

“You misunderstand. It’s not my perception of sex that has anything to do with it.” Alastor told him. “I simply don’t…care for it.”

“What?”

“Apart from when I am in rut; it holds no interest to me.”   

“None? Whatsoever, just….nothing?” Lucifer gaped at him.

“Truly.”

“So, you just can’t get it up unless you are in one of your rut thingy’s?” Lucifer was trying to make sense of this.  

“Not exactly…” Alastor huffed. “With enough effort; stimulation and finding the right mindset – sure…but, it doesn’t just happen. It’s really and truly something I don’t care to think about or pursue, otherwise.”

“I can’t…I can’t wrap my head around that. I mean I-I could fuck anything that moves. Not that I really would but, well…you know.” Lucifer shrugged.

“No…actually, I don’t.” Alastor reaffirmed.

“So, do you – do you like know what you want to actually like…do?” Lucifer asked him.

“How do you mean?” Alastor’s ears slightly leant back; whether it was him being uncomfortable by the question or a display of true confusion; Lucifer couldn’t tell.

“Mutual masturbation? Oral? Anal? What have you?” Lucifer threw out.

Alastor’s ears stiffened; pressing further back. Definitely discomfort.   

“When I’m in in rut; I’m sure anything and everything will be open and on the table.” He sighed.

“So do you like, turn into an even bigger asshole when your rutting?”

“No, not quite…that more tends to happen to the time leading up to it.” Alastor was telling him; briefly remembering his friend Rosie dismissing him from a brunch they were having in Cannibal Town once telling him: “come back after your damn rut; honestly, you’re worse than a woman!” He couldn’t remember details; only that he was terribly aggravating to her that day.

Meanwhile; Lucifer was waging an internal battle. So, you were PMS-ing yesterday? He very badly wanted to say it…he very nearly did, but he reigned it in; feeling it prudent to continue with the good footing they had established here.

“It’s more that I’m…” Alastor was continuing with his answer. “I’m just – Well, I can be a lot in those moments.”

The Radio Demon promises a good time… Lucifer thought, then he asked:

“Ok, so circling back. When or where are we going to…hash this all out?”

“I’m naturally crepuscular; and I’m generally more nocturnal in my activities. I can easily manage myself during the day. If we spend too much time at the hotel; even in my radio tower – we run the risk of being found out or discovered. If I spend too much time here or elsewhere; it leaves the hotel vulnerable. I propose we go back and forth; it won’t be so different to my normal activities – no one would think to question it at this point – and I have Niffty and Husker established so that if anything were to happen while I’m away; I’d know and can be there almost immediately.”

“Hm…yes, that might be wise. We can always tell Charlie that you and I buried the hatchet, as it were, and are meeting to discuss ideas with how best to proceed with the upcoming exterminations. She’ll wish to be included – of course – but if I tell her it’s something you and I are bonding or getting to know each other over; she’ll let it be.”   

“How…very manipulative of you.” Alastor commented; ears perking up. He was…impressed.

“Yes, well…” Lucifer reached back for his wine; lost for a moment in his thoughts. Then leaning back in his chair again; he offered:

“You’ve been very…frank with everything tonight. Do you have any questions you wish to ask me?”

“This meeting Charlie has with Heaven…do you think it will accomplish anything?” Alastor had in fact; been holding onto some questions.

“No.” Lucifer told him bluntly. “I don’t but, Lilith foresaw Charlie asking me to arrange it. I’m not…comfortable with it but Lilith will be there – Charlie won’t know that, of course – but it’s the only reason why I’d allow my daughter to go up there without my being there with her.”

“Do you think Lilith will succeed with her plans?” Alastor asked him, wanting to know. “Do you think that she can actually overthrow Heaven?”  

“If anyone; it would be her.” Lucifer finished off his glass; Alastor’s shadow quickly slid out from the corner to refill it for him. Lucifer nodded to it, taking a sip as it shifted itself back away. “She’s been planning this for some time now, making sure everything falls into just the right place at just the right time. The only hiccup we’ve ran into was you slipping yourself between the cracks but maybe that was fortunate for us – it remains to be seen.” He gave Alastor a hard look.

“If I get what I want from this, I’ll be as beneficial to your cause as I possibly can.” Alastor told him. “But, why are you choosing to do this? Weren’t you amiable toward Heaven; even after everything?”

Lucifer sighed. “Lilith has been with me through all of it…since the beginning. I’ve tried to make the amends to my mistakes; tried to make Heaven see that what we did…it wasn’t for the intentions that they thought. I’ve been fighting a losing battle for thousands upon thousands of years…Lilith stood by me; supported me all that time. Now, it’s time I stood by hers. We got nowhere with my plans and ideas for our future; so it’s time I supported hers.”

“How disgustingly devoted of you.” Alastor made a face and movement of his tongue; like he had actually tasted something terrible.

Lucifer laughed. “That’s just who we are. We depend and rely on each other.”

“So…she really has no issues with…this? What you and I are going to be doing?” Alastor asked him; wondering. “Call me ‘old fashioned’; but I’d hate to come between a man and his wife.”

“Lilith never would have agreed to it if she had reservations.” Lucifer told him. “She wasn’t lying when she told you that our relationship has been…unconventional, at times.”

“Hm…” Alastor remembered his wine and sipped from the glass.

“How long has it been for you anyway?” Lucifer asked him. “I’ll be coming out of a bit of dry spell myself; Lilith tends to get focused on other things when they’ve claimed her interest and I haven’t found much motivation in seeking out an outlet.”

“Years?” Alastor though. “Very nearly a decade, maybe.”

“Fuck.” Lucifer blurted. “You’ve got me beat then. You weren’t kidding when you said these mating cycles of yours were unpredictable.”

“Also part of the reason that I’m relying on you…specifically. I’m not sure just how…enthusiastic I might be.”

“So, how will I know that you are in rut?” Lucifer questioned him.

“Oh, don’t worry – my King.” Alastor fixed him with a sharp gaze. “You will know.”

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Scene inspired by: @applepartysins fanart/comic here

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor #fanfiction #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #my fanfic #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #alastor and lucifer #alastor x lucifer #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #radioapple #lucifer hazbin hotel #appleradio #alastor's shadow

[danganbangan]

yeah the 6th trial of v3 is my least favorite trial out of all the games. utterly disappointing is the best way I can put it

#rambles #’oooo it was all a dream none of it was real’ FUCK YOU #I think I’m so disappointed BECAUSE I enjoyed the characters and potential of this game SO MUCH #and the ending just really took all the wind out of my sails #the end animation where Keebo destroys the school WAS cool as hell though I’ll give it that #perhaps I will do a little rewrite just for fun and also my own sanity cause WOW they could’ve gone in some very cool directions #but they decided to have the lamest fucking twist in existence

[brainrotcharacters]

Lifeline

ship: opla luffy x reader

summary: Luffy sees you hanging over the edge of the ship, holding nothing but a piece of rope in your hand.

a/n: remember when I said my meltdown felt finished? So that was a fucking lie. I wrote a comfort fic instead.

tags: sfw, one piece live action, reader is a devil fruit eater, suicide attempt, angst/comfort, friendship, the Strawhat crew is a found family, Luffy fulfills the caregiver role

--

Everything was set into place. After such a long time, you finally controlled one part of your life.

Ending it.

You were going to do it during a clear night sky. There was the sounds of the winds against the sails of the Going Merry, and the lapping of the ocean waves against its magnificent hull. Usopp took great pride in keeping the ship in peak condition― it was easy to keep filling his mug with booze as he boasted about the ship, and it didn't take long for him to weave belowdecks to find his puke bucket.

Nami and Zoro were more difficult to put under, until a comment misheard by one of them led to another drinking game that ended with both of them unconscious under a table. Sanji helped you get them to bed, but when Zoro wrapped a massive arm around him, he was as good as pinned to the mattress with them. You ignored his pleas as you slowly exited the room, moving two barrels of dried meat in front of the door. Sanji's kicks are strong enough to break through wood, but the idea was to delay his movement, not stop him.

The rope in your hand strained as you lean further over the portside. Your feet remained on deck, but the rest of you teetered dangerously beyond the edge. As a Devil Fruit eater, you had a death wish, setting out to sea. Now you were proving everyone right.

"What are we looking for?"

Goddamn Luffy. You couldn't think of how to put him under, and now you were out of time. Luffy descended the ratlines at your right, eagerly squinting into the inky black ocean. "Are there any dolphins? Are they awake at night? I couldn't hear them from up at the crow's nest."

"Luffy..." you loosened your grip on the rope, the literal lifeline that kept you anchored to the ship. "Leave me alone for a bit, please. Sanji needs help with Nami and Zoro. They've been drinking."

"Sanji can take care of them." He planted his sandaled feet on the bulkhead, detaching from the ratlines. "He takes care of all of us. Even you."

Oh, the bastard. A forced, empty laugh escapes your mouth. "I feel the need to ask. Can you tell what I plan to do?"

He blinked slowly, and that's when you suspected he might succeed to persuade you against it. "Yeah. By the way, if you jump, I'm jumping in after you."

This time, you laughed more genuinely. True; in the short time that passed since you first joined, you knew Luffy had that type of personality.

Luffy smiled, simply happy that he heard your real laugh. The you that was his friend was still in there somewhere. "Y/n, please give me your hand."

He lifted his own, palm facing up. All things considered, he could use his ability and yank you back. But he wasn't that kind of captain―wasn't that kind of person.

"I'm out of place, captain." You keep your attention fixed on the ocean. It was easier than seeing Luffy's face. "I don't have much to offer anyone on this ship, least of all you. Joining you was a mistake."

"You don't mean that." Luffy had seen a similar devastation before. Nami, back when they helped free Coco Village from Arlong. "We like having you here. We all want to keep sailing with you."

A scoff splintered your throat on the way out. "What's your point?"

Luffy shifted on his feet, confused. The point? "You said you're out of place. Then, we'll make a place for you!" He thought they were already doing that, anyway.

He watched your grip on the rope slacken further. Only an inch of rope left before you fall to your death. Luffy scowled. "What about your dream?"

You roll your eyes, even as they prickle with tears. You say over your shoulder. "Someone else will be born and have the same dream. Let them fulfill it."

Luffy stopped himself from complaining about how lazy, how defeated of a thinking that was. Think like a captain. He told himself. "Y/n, no one else will pursue your dream the same way you would. That other person will do one thing differently than you, and you wouldn't be able to scold them for not following your lead. Because you chose to jump tonight."

The stars shimmered on the ocean surface tonight. You couldn't see where the sky ended and the sea began, only that it was dark. And Luffy was a red and blue and orange beacon within your reach.

"They won't..." You swallow the image that formed in your head. A child who didn't know any better, deciding to change one key element of your dream for the hell of it. "They won't pursue it how I would."

"Right." You heard Luffy take two steps closer. "So come on, Strawhat. Take my hand."

You find the strength to turn your head. Luffy's hand remained lifted, open and welcoming. Especially to the undeserving.

He offered you a tender, genuine smile. The softness reached his eyes. "We both know that when you take my hand, I will help you. All of us will help you, Y/n. But only after you reach for my hand."

He was cruel, your captain. This was him asking you to continue living. To continue suffering, to continue feeling pain. With him. With everyone. The annoying thing about Luffy was that he believed his crew has each other's backs, and actively made sure it became true.

Zoro was half asleep, but he still protected the back of Nami's head when they both fell on their asses under the table. Sanji complained about Zoro's weight on him, but still made sure his and Nami's necks were at comfortable angles. Usopp embraced everyone good night and sang garbled songs about how he found his courage with the crew, on his way belowdecks. When the singing stopped, the puking began. Sanji and you had chuckled to overhear it.

Goddamnit. You think to yourself, twisting fully and grabbing Luffy's hand.

Your captain grinned, pulling you close. His arms were solid as they braced around your middle, hand grasping your shoulder from behind. His face was buried in your hair, his next words muffled. "There we go. The crew is complete again."

#one piece live action #one piece #luffy #opla #opla luffy x reader

[cloudshuffle]

unmasked. yan!childe

index / prev / next / beta reader @lupikekee

warnings: explicit nsfw

You break the surface of the cold waters face first. There’s still a tightness in your chest, but you find it’s just the blanket, all twisted up with your legs and tugging at you. You grumble, still trying to shake off the sticky cobwebs of sleep, and struggle out of bed. 

Apart from the ticking of the clock, you realise that a silence has fallen and that you’re alone. A peek out the window reveals that you’ve made it to open sea, which means that everyone can now relax - an occasion for drinking to any Snezhnayan.

You leave your mask, knowing that the others would have done the same, and make your way onto the deck.

Nadia’s the first to greet you, grabbing onto your arms and whirling you into the ring of people grouped loosely around a fire burning in a barrel. “You’re up! We missed you!”

Judging by the way one of the women casts her an unimpressed glance, “we” more accurately means “I”. But you’re grateful for her induction into the celebrations otherwise.

She pulls you down to sit with her on an overturned, oversized bucket. She looks like a wild fae of the forest, her eyes alight from both drink and joy, and her cheeks flushed rosy. 

“Your hair’s a mess,” you comment, helping her settle the unruly curls.

She giggles, kicking her feet like a child, and dive right back into whatever conversation they were having earlier. 

You feel yourself fading comfortably into the background, smiling and laughing whenever appropriate. Someone passes you a shot of fire water. It goes down like, well, liquid fire, burning down your throat and stomach from the inside, warmth slowly spreading to every part of your body. Another one finds its way into your hand soon after, but this one you refrain from tossing back.

Your gaze wanders out over the deck. The sails flap every so often in a steady wind, the ship cutting through the calm waters like a hot knife through butter. At this pace, you’ll be reaching Liyue the next morning. 

The faces around the fire are familiar and friendly, but only a handful of names come to mind. Surely the captain of the ship wouldn’t be excluded from the activities of his own crew…?

A chorus of cheers rises from the men facing me. “El capitan!” one of them cries in a horrible accent, raising his glass and tilting so far back the other men have to catch him. We all turn back in unison.

“Markus!” Ajax calls back, raising a fist in return. He’s lost the red cape, usually draped around his neck and over his back, and his red harbinger mask is also nowhere to be seen. Without it, you think he looks… younger. More normal. Less like a tyrant and more like a boy. “Sorry my business took so long.”

The ring shifts reverently, allowing their leader in amongst their midst. Tartaglia takes a seat on a barrel to your right, heaving a satisfied sigh. A glass is delivered into his hand immediately, and he inhales it just as you had. “Finally. I’ve been on my feet all day.”

The conversation resumes, still cheerful and light-hearted, but it’s hard to ignore the undercurrent that tows you all towards his presence. Drinking or not, a harbinger is still a harbinger, the closest person to the Tsaritsa you’ll ever get to see, someone who can order your execution at the flick of a hand. Some seem to be trying to take advantage of that. Others shy away.

You watch him closely, taking back your second shot. Funny enough, the expression he wears is closer to a mask than it was on the archery field, though he doesn’t have his mask around him now. He laughs and chats with his soldiers just the same, but you can tell that he feels the undercurrent too, like a black hole swallowing a galaxy.

Too much thinking. You pour yourself a third, then a fourth shot.

Now the edges of your vision begin to spark with a mystical light, and the warmth from the alcohol coils in your body like a serpent. The conversation thrums in your temples like a tribal drum, and the pendant of your necklace pricks at the pads of your fingers as you fiddle with it. It doesn’t help. 

“I’m going to step away for a bit,” you murmur to Nadia. 

She giggles, nodding enthusiastically. She’s had nearly twice as many drinks as you and is likely on the edge of hysteria, but you know someone’ll help her if she passes out. 

The front of the ship feels like a world away from the chatter, the wind cutting through your coat and helping to take the edge off the heat inside you. The stars are quiet and calm, twinkling peacefully a million miles away, a soothing sight to your still-unsettled nerves. 

You had no fear of the water, but enclosed spaces made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. The ocean felt like your friend. Your cabin… felt like the mouth of a lion, maybe. It was a curious fear, but you’d never been able to figure it out.

You’re toying with your necklace again. The string begins to chafe at the back of your neck, so you pull it up over your head.

It’s a crude thing, a sundial shell wrapped up in a twist of rusty metal and strung up on a piece of cotton rope, but beautiful too. Moonlight shows faintly through its translucent surface, making the shell glow blue. 

He had brought it to your bedside as a good luck charm, the same ‘he’ who’d dove into the lake and hauled you out. 

Ajax had been kind, and cheerful, and popular amongst the other children because there wasn’t a dare he wouldn’t do. You’d never gotten along particularly before the incident. But afterwards, when grandmothers muttered that the lake had taken your spirit if not your soul, and the other children refused to play with you, Ajax would still spend time sitting in windows and reading fairy tales with you.

“Here you are. I was looking for you.”

You lower the pendant. There’s no need to turn around to see who it is - his slow, measured strides across the deck are telling enough.

“I just needed to clear my head.” You lower your head to tie the necklace back on, avoiding his discerning gaze, his easy smile. “I hope my lord wasn’t too concerned about me.”

The corner of his lips quirks up. “Let me help.” His cool gloves brush against yours. 

You hesitate, then lower your hands. He knots the string together deftly, then sighs and takes up a place next to you, leaning on the railing of the ship.

You glance back. Behind you, you can hear the festivities breaking up. Most are returning to their cabins, though a small knot of men remain, drunkenly carolling an old Snezhnayan lullaby to the stars.

“Are you afraid? That people might talk?”

“I might, if there was anything to talk about, my lord.” You allow yourself a small smile as he furrows his brows, evidently displeased.

“Since when did you call me ‘my lord’?”

“Since we were a part of the Fatui, and you became a harbinger.” You nod towards his belt. “Since you wielded a Vision, and I didn’t. We’re not part of the same world anymore.”

Ajax sighs, running a hand through his hair and turning his gaze out to sea. “Won’t you at least call me Childe?”

The drink emboldens you. “It’s a silly name. You could’ve chosen something better.”

The corners of his mouth raise, seemingly against his will. The moon casts the bridge of his nose in silver, turns the blue of his eyes into clear, unfrozen pools, illuminates the lovely flush spread across his cheeks from the fire water. This is Ajax, you think to yourself. The Ajax you knew.

You gradually become aware that he’s giving you a similar appraisal, lips slightly parted as if he wants to say something, and you know - whatever you choose to do now will forever alter the course of your life.

Ajax reaches out and pulls you towards him, and you choose to let it happen.

His sweetness envelops you first, a gentle scent entirely at odds with the rough calluses on his hands. He folds you into his embrace and you tilt your head back, accepting the shy kiss he ghosts across your lips.

“Are you afraid?” you tease softly. “That people might talk?”

His eyes glint dangerously. He kisses you again, but this time urgent, hard, adjusting his grip so he clasps both your wrists. A surprised sound escapes you, and Ajax takes the opportunity to have a taste of you, pressing you backwards into the railing.

He tastes like the sweet aftertaste of hard liquor and fresh spring water, breath shuddering with desire, a low groan rumbling in his chest. No, you think. Not the exact same Ajax you'd known.

You pull back. “Ajax,” you murmur.

There’s no turning back now.

“Come on.” He doesn’t let go of you, tucking you into his side and guiding you to his cabin, set apart from everyone else’s. 

It’s warmly lit with a number of wax candles burning low in their holders, parchment and maps scattered across the small but functional desk. Best of all, there are multiple windows, and the moonlight throws a grid of light onto the floor. 

Your observing is interrupted when Ajax kisses you again, this time allowing himself a purr of pleasure, kneading his fingers into your sides. He fumbles with the lock behind you, then leads you step by step to the bed, not once allowing you to pull away.

“Since when did you get strong?” you gasp, finally surfacing for air. He cages you in with all four limbs, and you finally understand what that glint is. Hunger. Desire. Desperation, even.

“Since I was a part of the Fatui.” A kiss, on the corner of your lips. “Since I became a harbinger.” On the jaw. “Since I received my Vision.” A trembling, reverent kiss on your pulse. “Since I left Morepesok, and I’ve been thinking of what I left behind since.” 

He nudges aside the pendant he gave you, and this time the kiss comes with teeth.

You bite back a whine as his hands paw at your shirt, undoing the buttons with trembling fingers. He blows cool air over the mark, peeling your clothes aside.

“The good thing about the uniform,” he pants, pupils blown so wide his blue eyes look almost dark. “Is that it covers up a lot of skin.”

Before you can protest, he ducks his head, working inward from your shoulder to your collarbone. Each bite feels like an electrical shock. He kisses each bruise gently to soothe the pain, but you're still shaking by the end of it, chest heaving.

You're not sure when he got rid of your clothes, but as he leans back to take a look at his handiwork, your skin prickles under the intensity of his gaze. 

“I'm glad you weren't my first,” he mutters, moving down to your chest. “Then I wouldn't know how to make you feel… this good.”

His mouth closes on a pert nipple, and a thumb strokes gently along your slit.

He groans into your soft flesh when he earns himself nothing short of a whimper of his name. 

“Ajax,” you plea, your nails scraping against his back. It's too hot, too restrictive, and he rids himself of his clothes too. 

He can feel your hole, already clenching and unclenching with want, leaking arousal onto his fingers. He releases your boob, inhaling your scent deeply.

It's sweet and salty and everything he's imagined your love to be. His dick jumps in his pants. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, and slides one finger in.

The moan you let out has him painfully hard, but Childe doesn't want to hurt you. He curls his finger inside of you, massaging gently, then pushes in another. 

You're trembling now, the pressure in your lower stomach mounting. The cool roughness of his glove against the hotness within you draws moan after moan from you. 

“Patience, darling.” You squeeze around him, fast and desperate… and he removes his finger, leaving you teetering on the edge. 

“Ajax,” you cry. Smiling, he bites into the softness of your stomach, and this time he catches your hips when they jerk up to collide with his chest.

“I imagined every one was you. I hoped I could fall in love with another,” he confides quietly. Your legs fold up your chest obediently. “But they were just… not enough. They just weren't you.”

“Is this a confession?” you manage to gasp. He's so large, larger than the few you've seen, his hot weight resting on your pussy. You can feel yourself throb, your slit weeping just for him.

“It's a declaration.”

His hands pin your wrists above your head, and he pushes past your entrance.

You make a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “Big,” you whimper.

He shushes you, leaning in for a kiss as he inches deeper, bit by bit. You squirm underneath him both in pleasure and pain.

“Tell me if it's too much.” His voice sounds strained. His veins scrape against every inch of your ribbed walls, pulsing and twitching as you swallow him whole. “Oh, baby, so tight, so warm… Baby, baby.” One hand clasps your chin. “Look at me. Don't look away.”

You whine assent. Your whole body alights with sparks, but you can feel him approaching somewhere dangerous.

His tip massages against a sensitive spot, your hips jump up of their own accord, and he slams into that sweet gummy area deep within you.

You throw your head back with a cry of his name, your hips shuddering, grinding you into him as you cum so hard you see stars.

“Shit,” he hisses, and starts thrusting into you.

You fit him so perfectly, it feels like your pussy was already moulded into the shape of his dick. Your walls flutter frantically around him, drawing him deeper, deeper, until he knows his tip is kissing your cervix because you moan with every thrust.

“C'mon baby, one more time, you can cum for me,” he mutters, beginning to lose himself in the obscene squelching of your cum all over him. “Inside, ah, gonna fill you up, gonna cum inside…”

He picks up the pace, and the pressure in your tummy begins to build again. Your back is arching, your hips shuddering, and still Ajax fucks you relentlessly.

“Look at me, baby, c’mon, cum for me, cum together, ngh, together, cumming, cumming, cumming-”

He moans loudly, and you swear you can see heart in his eyes, his hips still pistoning into you as hot, heavy ropes of cum spill into you where you never knew you were empty.

“One more time, yeah?” he pants.

— word count: 2506. thank you for reading!

#cloud writes #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin #yandere childe #childe #genshin childe #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia #genshin tartaglia #yandere tartaglia #smut #childe smut #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin smut

[loubombshell]

Imagine Nikolai being drunk.

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader

It was a beautiful evening. The sun started to set, turning the entire sky into a beautiful red while the ocean reflected the color. A refreshing breeze blew trough y/n's hair, making her take a deep breath from the salty taste of the wind. Her eyes followed the wind, that filled their sail. Most of the time a Squaller was responsible for the wind, carrying them around the ocean, but right now they had enough of it to sail on their own. Y/n sat on a bench near the railing just enjoying the view and the sound of the waves.

A shadow walked up behind her and sat down next to her, one on her left and one on her right. The girl turned around and looked at Tolya and Tamar joining her.

"Do you need anything from me?" She asked with a little smirk.

"Don't act like we just come around when we need something." Tolya scoffed.

"The last time you talked to me was- wait let me think." Y/n put a finger on her chin, pretending to really think. "Oh yes! It was when you lost your sword and thought Nikolai added it to his weapon collection." She chuckled about it.

Tamar laughed a bit about the conversation and put a hand on Y/n's shoulder.

"You're not completely wrong. It's about Nikolai, he and the whiskey got pretty close to each other- like really close." Tamar told her honestly and Y/n sighed a bit about it.

"On my way." Y/n added and made her way under deck. She didn't hear him singing old sailor songs, which is a good sign.

So far, so good.

The creaky door opened, revealing Nikolai's chambers. There was a desk, with different maps either drawn by him or getting ripped from a book. The lamps hanging from the ceiling swayed to the left and right with the rhythm of the waves, that were hitting the ship.

In the middle of it, Nikolai stumbling from left to right also with the direction of the waves. Y/n had to bite her lips a bit, trying to hold her laugh, she came in and closed the door behind her.

Nikolai turned around by the sound of the closing door, looking at his girlfriend standing in the room too, he let out a drunken smile.

"Y/n!" He raised his arms happily. "The girl of my dreams." He chuckled and walked towards her. "Whoops." He let out when he swayed pretty much to the left side.

"Princess of my Kingdom. My leading Star. Fire of my love and-" Nikolai called her and put both of his hands on her shoulders, as soon as he reached her.

Y/n crossed her arms infront if her chest and raised her eyebrows up. "Are you finished?" She stopped him.

"-and my little mermaid." He smirked and tapped her with a finger on her nose.

The girl was charmed by his words, even if he won't remember them the next day. She wanted to keep a straight face, but after his last sentence she lost it.

"I hope you know, that alcohol isn't good for you and your body." She told him honestly. "You're not going to get older than 40 when you keep doing." She added.

"Are you saying you're going to miss me in a few years then?" He smirked.

"Of course dumbass. I want to see your beautiful face in wrinkles." Y/n joked smirking.

Nikolai looked horrified to her and touched his own face.

"Oh no! I never thought of this." He admitted.

Y/n laughed even more about it. "Come on, let's get you to bed." She took his hand and lead him towards his bed.

"You could've just said so many minutes ago." Nikolai smirked but Y/n couldn't take him seriously with his drunk face. She just shook her head with a smile and pushed him into bed, helping him to take off the shoes and threw them into some corner of the room and sat down on the side of his mattress.

"Are you going to sing for me now?" Nikolai asked with a smirk and looked to her.

"If you want me to wake a shark up, sure." She told him smirking. She was a terrible singer, but she had her qualities elsewhere.

Nikolai chuckled a bit about it. "I can teach you, I'm a great singer." He smirked arrogant. "Do I get a goodnight kiss?" He leaned on his elbows.

Y/n rolled her eyes with a smirk and leaned towards, wanting to give him a little kiss to the cheek but in the last moment her turned his head and she kissed his lips instead. The girl didn't pull back, she stayed like this for a few seconds before ending the kiss with a smile.

"You taste like alcohol, idiot." She pushed him back into the pillow with a smirk and stood up again.

"You're not going to join me?" Nikolai asked her.

Y/n shook her head laughing. "Goodnight, Nikolai." She closed his door and walked over to the little cabinet with his liquors in it, she grabbed every bottle and walked upstairs again with the many bottles drowning every single one in the Sea.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai lanstov x reader #shadow and bone #Shadow and bone x reader #Shadow and Bone imagines #patrick gibson #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov x you

[amesch]

The Yonko's Beloved

×-------------------------------------------------×

Pairing: Shanks x F!Reader

Rating: SFW

Chapter: 1/?

Creator's note: ya'll it's my first fic so I hope you like it 🙏 also what do you prefer, you, yours, you're or I, me, mine?

×-------------------------------------------------×

Chapter 1 - Tragedy at Sunflower Village

The sun was setting, a bright orange color along with a light blue mixed together in the sky painting the clouds a princess pink color. The vast fields of sunflowers spreading across the hills, wind blowing gently and calmly. Truly a beautiful place.

But now, all was set a blaze.

You were sitting beneath a tree on a hill looking down at your village. It was a big village with wooden houses and a church standing in the center. Your eyes were hooded, your clothes stained with your own blood and your body so exhausted you weren't even able to raise a finger. The only thing you could do now was spectate and thank God that you made it out alive.

You were able to hear wood cracking and buildings falling apart as the fire spread. The sky now filled with smoke and flames, all beauty gone. The field of yellow sunflowers burned to a crisp, the vast fields that represented your village... no, everything that ever proved the existence of this village was burnt down...

You could feel your consciousness was slipping away, you were pretty sure if you'd pass out now you'd probably die of blood loss or the fire would reach you and turn you to ash. But you didn't mind, all was gone now so you just took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

HELL did you not know what fate had in store for you...

×-------------------------------------------------×

You're eyes fluttered open tiredly, a salty breeze hit your nose and you sat up.

You immediately noticed the bandages beneath your shirt, they were going up both your arms, torso, chest and ended at your neck. You were wearing clothes you didn't recognize and your vision was too blurry to make out any details of the room you were in.

The only hints of your location was the salty breeze and the sound of waves outside of the room. You were on a ship...

Outside the sound of male voices and loud footsteps, this was no ordinary sailing ship. From the sound of the conversation it was probably a pirate ship, but you were begging for it not to be one.

You kept on thinking to yourself on how to get out of this situation and if you should go outside or stay in the room, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of 2 people heading towards the room.

You quickly lay down again, your plan was to play pretend and trick the Pirate's into thinking you were asleep and then maybe if they lower their guard you could run away and... Well you didn't know yet.

But as your body quickly lays on the ground again you feel a sharp pain in you whole torso, you managed to stay quiet but also had to hide your face of pain and close your eyes. The Pirate's had made it to your door and it was now opened, the footsteps grew closer and you could hear one of the Pirate's crouching down beside you while the other one was standing above you.

You didn't dare to open your eyes nor to move a single muscle, the person who was crouching next to you began checking out your wound while the one standing above you began to speak.

"How are her wounds, Hogo-San?"

A male voice, somehow deep but also soft at the same time.

"They closed up nicely, Captain."

The man who was crouched next to you replied while rebandaging your forearms.

He lifted up your shirt up to your chest and rebandaged your stomach, you kept quiet trying not to wince at the pain.

After the man finished doing his work on your body he got up and left, closing the door gently behind him.

But the captain stayed, you heard him sitting down and breathing gently. You could feel his eyes on you which made you wonder if he knew that you were awake or if he's just a creep.

"I know you're awake."

Your breath caught in your throat, a chill running down your spine as you quietly panicked. Your brain reminded you of the knife you kept at your hip in that moment, an escape plan started playing out in your head.

"You're terrible at hiding facial expressions"

He chuckled, a rather sweet sound coming from a man like that.

Your eyes snapped open, your hand reached down to your hip as you simultaneously sat up and lunged towards the man.

Seeing the man's appearance for the first time had you in trance. He was tall and muscly, definetly at least one head bigger than you. His hair was an unusual crimson red, three scars ran across his left eye.

Tho what made you snap out of this weird feeling was when your palm grasped at thin air, your brain reminded you of the unfumiliar clothing on your body, which meant your knife was also gone. You quickly made your hand into a fist and raised it, it would be a sloppy punch but it could still hurt him.

His expression doesn't change, a slight smile on his face as he quickly raises his hand and stops your weak punch by grabbing your fist.

"There is no need to get violent."

His smile got bigger as his your fist disappeared in his palm, his fingers closing around it, but his grip wasn't tight.

His hand... No his arm... Shit, his whole body was quite huge. The tunic he was wearing was open, revealing this man's six-pack and... Boobs? You could swear they were bigger than yours as you stared at them.

You blinked a couple of times before you looked at his eyes, now catching a better glimpse of how handsome he was for a pirate...

"Who are you and what do you plan on doing with me."

You snarled at him, aggressively tugging your hand away from his palm, he let go surprisingly easily and his arm dropped.

"You could start by maybe saying thank you?"

The man laughed, for some reason he didn't even seem scary.. But you decided to keep your guard up.

"You're a pirate, aren't you?"

You asked, keeping your harsh tone as you spoke. A frown played on your face as you schoothed a way from him a little.

"I am."

(accidentally posted it from my drafts so it's not done yet sorry </3)

He simply replied with a light and playful tone, a small smirk tugging on his lips as he continued to look into your eyes. A moment of silence followed after his answer before you took a deep breath in and asked another question.

"What are you planning to do with me...?"

You averted your eyes from his and looked down, you were expecting a bunch of weird shit to come from his lips now... For example:

"My crew is planning to use you as their special needs toy" or "you'll be our new chore girl and our slave"

A bunch of ideas flew through your head, but then his voice was heard again.

"As soon as you're healed up we'll let you go on the next island we dock on."

He said, the kind tone in his voice never leaving nor faltering. You look back up at the man a confused expression on his face which mad him chuckle.

"What were you expecting?"

He ask while laughing.

#one piece #shanks #shanks x reader #fanfic #first fanfic #akagami no shanks #one piece fic #shanks x you #shanks fanfiction

[trashytoastboi]

Hello! Can I request headcanons of Cracker, Katakuri, Usopp, Marco with S/O waking up finding a bug in their bed? This happened with me and my BF and we were freaking out haha

Hi hi! Of course~ Honestly bugs and beds... nope. Don't want any strange bedfellows thank you very much. Sorry for the long wait and hope you enjoy ~

Headcanons: Cracker, Katakuri, Usopp, Marco x S/O – Waking up and finding a bug in their bed

> Gender neutral

Charlotte Cracker

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🍪 Cracker took a long time, detailing his day and laughing at the idiots at World Government, he walked right past the marines and they didn’t even know it’s him. To further his little taunt he stood RIGHT beside his own wanted poster and those idiots never even picked it up. Cracker did this often and boasted of his tales before bed, to his partner who always willingly listened. He enjoyed the attention, how attentively {Name} listened. “Well enough about me-” he cut his own story short upon seeing how sleepy {Name} was. 

🍪 He crawled into the obnoxiously large bed, right besides {Name}, doing his usual routine. Surprisingly when he wasn’t boasting about his own achievements, or speaking enthusiastically about his family he could be quite affectionate towards his partner. Maybe it was his pride as a lover, or something of the sort but he had a strange softness to his biscuit coated heart when it came to {Name}. He pulled them closer, pressing a soft kiss to their shoulder. He felt a tickling on his thigh, he chuckled thinking it was {Name’s} hand. Until he realized that unlike him, {Name} wasn’t exactly tall enough, with long enough limbs to reach his thigh the way they were laying. So what was tickling his thigh? 

🍪 Cracker decided to ignore it. Surely it was nothing. The prickly, tickling sensation kept moving. Squirming, he could not ignore it. It stopped for a moment and {Name} shrieked at the sudden feeling and practically launched themselves from the bed, entrusting Cracker to find the culprit. He scoffed at seeing their terror, when he lifted the blanket. A monstrosity, some hundred legged demon wriggled and wreathed all over the bed. It set its sights for Cracker and aggressively squiggles towards him, Cracker would tell everyone it was his partner who shrieked high enough to crack glass, but it was him. He discovered he'd rather face an admiral instead of a centipede. 

🍪Cracker unleashed the full force of his devil fruit, making sure there was no possible way for this foul creature to survive. Sure {Name} was scared and grossed out but the extent Cracker went to seemed like overkill. Even after all of that, practically decimating his entire room…He noticed it again. Nonchalantly marching along as if nothing ever happened, the centipede was alive and well, its presence tormented Cracker. Eventually {Name} worked up the courage to approach it, trap it in a container and toss it out the window while it sailed on the wind until probably landing safely somewhere to strike fear to everyone else. 

🍪 Cracker was exhausted. He refused to go to sleep in his room, not until enough time has passed and he was double- no triple sure that it was clean and free of insects..He felt itchy and thought about how long the centipede tickled against him. One thing he can say for certain is he now knows that he has a fear of centipedes. Well any creature with more than four legs already raises his danger bells, this was just the epitome of it. What’s worse, it was a giant centipede! It’s unnatural how it could even get that big. 

Charlotte Katakuri

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🍩 Katakuri is very soft, and finds he really enjoys the nights when he can sleep next to his partner. Their presence is so warm and comforting, evoking the same kind of fluffy and comforting feelings as his tea time. Katakuri rarely expressed this but you could easily tell, he acted noticeably softer and more gentle during these times when his heart felt at ease. With one of the most comfortable beds to ever be created and his partner, what more could he need for a restful night. He had prepared a small plate of snacks, something light to go with a late night beverage, he relaxed with {Name} sharing snacks and talking about the day. 

🍩 After that Katakuri so naturally snuggled against {Name} well seeing that he is as tall as he is, {Name} was designated the role of little spoon every time. Once they tried to be the big spoon but they made Katakuri burst out in laughter. Everything seemed peaceful, although it was warm so Katakuri opened a window in the hopes of a pleasant breeze to come drifting through. Although the breeze was not the only thing that came drifting into the room. 

🍩 Maybe the slightest hum of wings was not enough to alert them. Not even when it got louder, and closer. Until Katakuri felt something tap against his cheek. He thought nothing of it, until it moved. He casually brushed it off and it fell to the bed and made its way towards {Name}, the slightest tickle of an antenna gave them an itch. Although they didn’t expect to feel something when they went to scratch what was tickling them. They went to have a look, maybe they left something on the bed earlier? They spotted some odd creature. A scorpion? The silhouette seemed to match, but they had never heard of a scorpion that had an antenna? It started flying and {Name} shrieked to high heaven - Not a scorpion. 

🍩 Katakuri could see {Name} panicking, being chased by some very tiny thing that had them running for their life. So nonchalantly asked them what the problem was. In their panic Katakuri heard {Name} complaining about ‘it’ crawling into their ears and tickling their brains. The idea actually sounded quite disgusting even by his standards.  He easily captured it in a mochi cage and threw it outside to ease his partner’s concerns. Katakuri didn’t even see it for that long but the sheer terror that it evoked in his partner was strange. {Name} described in great detail about earwigs and all the horrific old wives tales that exist about them. 

🍩 After hearing the tale about how they’ll crawl into your ears and lay eggs Katakuri started sleeping with earbuds in to prevent such. He brushed it off saying that he’s not affected but {Name} knew otherwise, plus Katakuri no longer opens the windows. So there’s something to suggest that maybe he’s not as unaffected as he makes himself out to be. 

Usopp

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🏹 Ussop said goodnight to all of his lovely little plants, making sure everything was ready for tomorrow and he kept telling {Name} that he’d be there in a few minutes. In the meantime, {Name} prepped the bed making sure it was all comfortable and ready to turn in for the night. They knew Usopp could get stuck with his plants for hours, talking to them, tending to them and deciding they’d turn in before him. They got comfy and were in a half asleep state. 

🏹 They’d just managed to lightly fall asleep, they felt the weight shift and the bed dip when Ussop climbed inside. He was talking to himself about the to-do list for tomorrow to remind himself of everything he wanted to attend to. He climbed under the blanket humming to {Name} with some random lullaby. {Name} shifted closer out of habit and all was well until something very evidently came crawling on the bed. {Name} could faintly make out the silhouette of the thing coming closer, closer, - it wasn’t big enough to have significant weight but they could see the blanket move underneath it so clearly it was big enough to do that. They silently watched as it got closer before being unable to take it anymore. 

🏹 {Name} didn’t know what it was but they flailed, and flung themselves all over the bed to get away from it. Usopp obviously woke up from all the panicking wondering what had his partner so riled up and perturbed. When Usopp lifted the blanket to catch the culprit it revealed a spider. Eight legs, walking along like nothing could go wrong. Usopp chuckled and scooped the spider onto his hand “Don’t worry this little guy won't hurt you.” He reassures {Name} while admiring how pretty the little fellow looked. {Name} was terrified, reassured and surprised to see Usopp so unphased while he let the spider run around his hand and arm. 

🏹 Usopp moved the spider to a container and he took it outside, while {Name} just remained inside, confused and too scared to look in the bed. Maybe they should just sleep elsewhere; they wracked their brain until they heard Usopp return. He fixed the bed and invited them to lay beside him. {Name} asked if there were any more bugs, evidently afraid to return. Usopp reassured them that it was just that little guy. {Name} told Usopp just how surprised they were to see him handling that with no issue ever, he’s never found bugs scary and rather on the cute side. 

🏹 {Name} was too scared on their side of the bed and scooted closer and closer until they were practically sleeping on top of Usopp. Not that he minded all that much, he thought them being afraid of a little spider was adorable. They protested that they’re cute until they bite, Usopp couldn't really argue with that but explained he’s never been bitten. 

Marco

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🍍 Marco quite enjoyed his midday naps, granted if everything was quiet enough to permiss that. He even roped {Name} into joining him and it almost became routine when they would disappear for an hour or two to just rest and recharge before getting back to the grind. He didn’t even bother opening the bed and threw a soft blanket on top instead, without checking it. Had he checked things might have been different for the two of them. He plopped down and awaited {Name} wondering why they were so late. 

🍍 {Name} arrived to find a very half asleep Marco who greeted them with a sleepy tune and an interrupting yawn. They walked over and plopped over, smiling as they saw Marco’s resting face. The moment felt so serene and peaceful, warm and comfortable. {Name} wished it would last forever until they felt some hard, cold thing MOVING next to them. A slight hissing sound arose and they froze, a snake is easy no big deal. But this didn’t feel like a snake. It was smaller, still sizable and more rigid. 

🍍 “Marco-” {Name} called softly, trying not to move, “Marco!” They called a little louder, before reaching up and shaking him. Marco woke up, flustered “What’s wrong? Enemies? Marines?” he searched around, when {Name} shuffled closer to him “There’s something behind me…Take it away please” Marco was confused but noticed the genuine fear that lingered in their expression. He came closer and reached behind them, to feel something. For a moment relief washed over him, it was probably a random item. He thought that until it moved in his hand and Marco threw whatever he was holding across the room with a muffled shriek. 

🍍 Marco and {Name} skedaddled to the polar opposite side of the room and looked for any sign of movement and there it was. Red, brown and black amalgamated onto a palm sized insect. An intimidating and shrill hiss escaped the creature, Marco did the only rational thing. He took {Name} and left the room before burning it, the flames would leave nothing behind. After watching everything turning into ash, Marco seemed relieved. Until he saw something JUMPING at him through the ashes.

🍍 They shut the door and Marco called for someone who was better at dealing with such things than he was. To his surprise it was easy to find someone…Enthusiastic about bugs amongst the eccentric crew. They were excited while ‘admiring’ the fine specimen which they identified as a parktown prawn. Marco didn’t care what kind of creature it was but more to the fact that his whole room had been overturned by its existence. 

#one piece #trashytoastboi #charlotte cracker #katakuri #usopp #marco the phoenix #fluff #sfw #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #one piece headcanon #cracker x reader #katakuri x reader #one piece usopp #usopp x reader #marco x reader

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 16

MASTAPOST

tell me what u like about the chapter :D guess where the story's going, anything! gimme fuel qwq

Damian lay on his belly on Phantom’s chest as the boy floated just underneath the surface. It was night time, and the Atlantean town they’d sacked was far behind them now. Here they only had the stars to accompany them, wobbling and swaying over the distortion of the water.

They were so close… Damian pushed himself up with his arms. His head breached the surface, water washing over his face like a veil. His eyes widened as he took in the beauty of the night sky, much more comfortable without the blinding sunlight when he’d first tried this.

There was something comforting about the stars, something beautiful outside this world that would be there no matter what, even in his most miserable nights with the League. It was something he missed when he moved the Manor underneath Gotham’s smog-filled skies.

Damian pushed himself further, balancing himself on his tail and hip fins instead of his arms. The gentle sea breeze prickled at his wet scales, causing him to shiver. It brushed against his ear fins and gave a sense of immeasurable calm. Just him, Danny, the stars and the whistle in the wind.

And a feeling of suffocation.

Damian’s lungs demanded air. Or was it water? He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the sea from above it rather than underneath, but it didn’t help. He inhaled again, but the pressure remained.

What- What was this madness?! Sirens could breathe over water. This was indisputable. Danny had been able to breathe and talk over water the night Damian was transformed. Damian was able to breathe air and talk then. Damian sucked in more and more air, desperately trying to sate the need for oxygen. Why couldn’t he breathe?!

 Damian’s vision twisted. His head spun. His chest felt like knives being stabbed into it.

Hands grabbed him. Danny pulled him back under, where the water provided sweet relief. Damian clutched his chest, as if any moment now he would drown again.

“Are you ok Damian?” Danny’s hands hovered over him, like he was fragile china. Damian scowled.

“Why couldn’t I breathe? What has happened to me?” Damian asked, demanded, heavy with accusation.

“Dude, your lungs are water balloons right now. You gotta empty ‘em out before you can breathe air.” Danny said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Damian’s cheeks burned. He turned his back on Danny and crossed his arms.

“I was aware. I was merely testing you.”

Danny poked him in the sail, the sensitive touch causing Damian to hiss instinctively. “I mean if you’re the siren expert, then by all means!”

Damian did not dignify him with a response. Instead, he surfaced again, determined. Instead of inhaling in panic, trying to pump air into lungs at full capacity, Damian focused on exhaling, on pushing the water out.

His throat cramped with pain. The young siren gargled and gasped. His throat clamped and throbbed, like he was pushing a jagged boulder up. He barely managed to spit out a meagre drop of water before Danny dragged him under again.

The older boy pulled him to his chest, stroking his back as Damian coughed and hacked.

“Ok that was my bad, are you ok?” Danny said, ear fins drooping. Damian wheezed, his eyes closing as the pain abated.

“Do you go through this every time you surface?” Damian shuddered. What would happen to him once he got home? He wouldn’t be able to walk, and now couldn’t even breathe without immense pain.

“Hehe, no.” Danny deadpanned. “You’re supposed to use your gills.”

Danny tapped on his own gills. Instinctively, Damian moved his elbows to cover his. Lately he had been keeping sane by not thinking too much about the creepy feeling of having water flow through the slits in his chest, how exposed and vulnerable it made him feel. How it gave him a glaring weakness that could be easily exploited.

“Just open up your gills, and let the water drain out. It’s that simple.”

Damian sputtered. “What did you say?”

Danny shrugged, like he was explaining grade school mathematics to a two-year-old. “Like this.”

Danny’s gills flapped open. It was only from years of stoic training that Damian did not gag at the sight of Danny’s pale flesh revealed underneath his aquatic breathing apparatus. His eyes trailed to his own set of gills.

“Is there another way?” Damian was not avoiding this issue, nor was he ‘procrastinating’ as Richard would insipidly suggest. He was merely searching for a more optimal alternative.

“We’re sea creatures, Damian. I consider myself lucky for being able to not drown in air at all.”

Damian swallowed the lump in his throat. He was the son of Batman and Talia Al Ghul. He could face this. Being unable to breathe above water would make him a liability on this journey. He had to push through.

Damian prepared to resurface, gathering his nerves.

“Just relax. You can do it, Damian. It’ll be as easy as breathing.”

Encouraged by the prospect of not hearing any more puns, Damian pushed his upper half over the surface. Accordingly, Danny also pushed closer. This high over the water, Damian wobbled as his body adjusted to his weight in the air.

The pressure started to mount on his chest. Damian focused on the slits between his ribs, on the alien feeling of wind blowing into them and hitting exposed flesh. He squinted his eyes and tried to push the water out through his gills. He flexed and contracted his arms and stomach, searching for the unconscious switch in his brain that could activate the write muscles.

It was too much. He went under again.

“This is proving more difficult than I had anticipated.” Damian huffed, chest heaving from strain.

“I can tell.” At Damian’s glare, the older boy raised his hands in defense. “Hey, you looked legit constipated up there. I was starting to worry you’d actually make a mess of yourself. Now, like I said, all you need to do is-”

Damian hissed at the older boy’s mockery. “I can take care of myself. I need no advice to do something as simple as breathing. Thank you.”

Damian glared at the surface, the invisible barrier between this world and the old one, and redoubled his efforts. The pressure came back. Damian twisted his body and nerves, but he couldn’t get a single gasp of air in. He sank. He re-emerged, he suffocated again. Each time Damian pushed himself further, only to be met with the same difficulty. Each time left him sorer, more cramped.

Until after many an attempt, Damian slumped against Danny’s chest, scaled skin warm despite the cold, deep-sea looking appearance. His muscles turned to jelly, even as he feebly pushed against the older boy’s scales for another attempt.

The young siren felt soft hands wrap around his waist. Damian tried to push away, to wiggle out. Danny’s chest vibrated with a low him, and it was like his strings were cut, and Damian’s resistance ceased. All he could do was mutter weakly.

“What are you doing?”

Danny surfaced, arms keeping Damian under, until they began to pull him up too. Damian’s heart accelerated. He could not stop the frightened chitters forcing their way out. His fins went rigid. Was this it? Did Phantom finally lose his patience, and decide Damian was no longer worth the effort? This was bad. He needed to escape and he needed to escape yesterday.

But as Damian began to struggle, the rumbling vibrations from the elder’s chest intensified, and the small boy went limp again. His muscles, sore from exertion and rendered even weaker by the strange biological signal, refused to move. All he could do was tilt his head away, trying to delay the inevitable. Helplessly, he watched the surface creep closer and closer, until he went over.

Damian waited for his death. In his prayers, he apologised to Father, to Richard, even to Drake, for everything. In this moment, as tears pricked his eyes as he was helpless but to drown in fresh, oxygen-rich air, Damian resigned himself.

The pressure did not come.

His chest tingled. Pinpricks poked the skin and outer scales, and along the lining of his gills. Water ran down his chest and over his abdomen. Damian blinked, and looked down.

His gills were open, fully open, gaping wide and exposing his insides for the world to see, but they were open. And water flowed out of them, emptying his lungs. Damian gasped, and felt sweet relief as cold, burning, fresh air finally filtered into his body. His body wracked from the sweet release, chest struggling to accommodate the big greedy gulps he took.

“And now you shut them, keep the air going out the other way.”

Damian nodded glumly. That he could manage. A swift motion, and the flaps of scales and skin shut tightly, leaving only thin lines on his body to suggest that he ever had gills in the first place.

For a moment, he felt human. Even as he actively commanded his breaths, he felt more like a normal human again than he had in the last 48 hours.

“T-thank you.” Damian said, cursing the weakness in his voice. Not to mention how it sounded completely different now, travelling through water instead of air. It was unnerving, but he couldn’t place why. He felt too tired for more riddles about his body. “You have saved me a great inconvenience.”

Danny quietly chuckled. “It was literally what I told you. You need to loosen your muscles to get the water out. This whole time you’ve been all tight and wound up like a spring lock. Dude I think you even sleep all locked up too. That can’t be healthy.”

Sleep was when you were at your most vulnerable. Any threat could walk by and do with you whatever they pleased. In his life, there would be danger at every turn. It was a sentiment he’d expressed to the others in his family when they too voiced the same concerns.

He would never be safe in this life.

A finger poked his cheek. Damian snapped his teeth at the infantilizing gesture, only for it to retreat back just as quickly. He turned around and looked up, muscles no longer rendered limp by the subjugating vibrations.

Danny pointed to the sky, a soft smile on his face.

“It’s a good night to stargaze, isn’t it?” A comet whizzed by in the night, a streak of white trailing behind it, like an artist’s brush across a canvas. Now that he could breathe again, Damian felt an overwhelming sense of calm again, treading water and watching the stars shine.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #angst #danny phantom #mermaid au #merboys #mermaid transformation #transformation angst #animal instincts #mer biology #sirens #damian drowns in air #drowning #suffocation #comfort #fluff

[ghouljams]

Hihi! This is my first time requesting so I’m a lil nervous lol but I LOVE ur writing, especially your cowboy aus!!

I was scrolling on insta and saw this : https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3YYJmyPETo/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Immediately thought of cowboy!Graves during a rodeo winking and giving reader, who’s sitting in the front row with her friends, his signature devilish smile when he lands on the fence. Maybe even taking his hat off and reader thinks he’s just saying hi (tipping his hat yk?) but he ends up putting it on her head?? Save a horse ride a.. yk 😏 kinda thing

Maybe he comes and finds her after the show or vice versa and it gets a lil spicy?? Or maybe some fluff + banter would be better? idk 🤷‍♀️

NEwaysss just some late night thoughts that are squirming their way into my brain. Totally feel free to ignore this and have an amazing day/night!! 🫶🫶

Ok, I hope you don't mind me tweaking this a little, I've got Graves set up as a bull rider, with his sweetheart riding brocs, and this just popped into my head as soon as I saw that man hit the bars.

The bronc bucks you right off and onto the metal fence. Your shin hits the bar and you nearly roll over the top into the crowd. You manage to catch yourself before that happens but not before nearly face planting into someone's lap. You look up and flash them your best smile, and feel the wind rush out of your sails staring up at Graves. Eyes previously fixed down your shirt, dart to meet your own. His lips curl over his teeth in a way that make you think he'd rather bite you than anything else, more baring his teeth more than smiling. Heat rushes to your face, embarrassment flooding you.

"Howdy," He coos, and you scramble to get off the fence and back into the ring. He laughs when you jump back down to the dirt, and the sound follows you on your way to settle the horse. You reach up to fix your hat and hit empty air, you look around the ring for it and spot your least favorite bull rider plucking it out of the stands to settle on his head. He waves his hat for you and you feel your blood boil.

Forget the horse you hustle backstage, you cannot think about the horse and your hat, and the way he'd smiled at you without a stiff drink.

"That was a first place dismount," One of your friends laughs, as you look around for you stuff. You need every reason not to stick around. You're smart, you're capable, you know exactly what's going to happen in the next few moments if you aren't ready to book it.

"Fourth place ride," You grumble, snagging your water bottle from their hand. You get most of the way out of the door before you're caught.

A firm arm catches your waist and spins you to meet a wolf's smile. You do your best to look unamused when he tells you, "That was a lucky dive you took."

You work your tongue over your teeth for something to do instead of talking, trying to come up with the kindest way to say 'give me my hat back and let me go' the best you get is: "Thought PBRs didn't show up 'til tomorrow." If you'd thought the subject change would help it doesn't.

"You keepin' track of me? Here I thought you didn't like me." Unflappable, you don't think you've seen this man break once since you met him. You wonder what's wrong with him. Usually folks are able to take no for an answer.

"Never said that," You try to shake off his grip and he pulls you closer. Your arm bumps against his chest and you stiffen at the firm muscle. "A little space?" You gripe, feeling him lean into you.

"I'm alright," He purrs, tipping his head and running his thumb along the top edge of your belt, "comfortable actually."

"You flirt with all the bronc riders?" You ask watching a few walk by and smile at him, he raises a hand in greeting and pushes his hips against yours. You can't help the shiver that snakes its way down your spine, the way your hand goes to grab his wrist when his fingers brush against your stomach.

"Just the real feisty ones."

"So all of them." You make a small noise pressing back into him to try and get away from the warmth of his hand.

"Don't be like that sweetheart," He presses, his chin settling against your shoulder, the depth of his voice makes you squirm, you hate flirts, you hate that they get to you like this, "you and me are end game, the sooner you figure that out the better it'll be." He hums, and you can almost feel him thinking before he tacks on, "for both of us."

He lets you go and you stumble a step out of his grasp, turning to glare at him. He settles his hat on your head and suddenly your glare feels more like a pout.

"Lemme buy you a drink, help ya walk off that dismount." He offers with a crooked smile.

"Top shelf," You glare.

"Of course," He cocks his head.

"As much as I want," You narrow your eyes further, just because it makes his eyes sparkle with heat.

"Anything you want sugar, any time you want it."

...

Maybe you can entertain one flirt once. Especially when he slips the bartender a black card and orders a round for the bar. You probably should notice that everyone in the bar is masked, and sporting the same rook/spade insignia, but you're a little more preoccupied with the drink Graves slides you. Your confidence only wavers when you remember you didn't tell him what you drink, and somehow- somehow he's gotten it exactly right.

#cod x reader #x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves cod #graves cod #graves x reader #graves mw2 #graves call of duty #phillip graves call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cowboy au #pbr!graves #f!reader #Graves you better get outta there before the 141 shows up for Goose's ride #otherwise you're fucked

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #9 - It's Cruel To be Kind

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Apologies for the wait!!! 🥺❤️

CW: Whumpee thinks Caretaker is new master/whumper, vampire caretaker, bloodbag whumpee, reference to vampire whumper/previous abuse/captivity, bloodbag whumpee, recovery whump, aftermath of nightmare, emotional breakdown/self doubt (August going through it!!!) [Pls lemme know if I missed any! 🫶]

---

The wind is swept from August’s sails. It feels as though he’s adrift in the open ocean. Lost at sea with no waves or wind to carry him to shore. A storm rages overhead, lightning splitting through the pitch-black sky, dark clouds rolling in. There’s an island on the horizon, a glimmer of hope. It calls August - it beckons him. And he tries with all his might to paddle there, waiting for the gust of gaia’s wind to propel him towards salvation.

It never comes. The ferocious ocean waves sway August further away. Totally stranded and utterly helpless. 

August skulks out of Declan’s bedroom in bruised defeat. The desperate screams for mercy and freedom fade until they’re nothing but a distant echo, swallowed up by the silence of the house. This isn’t working. This isn’t fair. They’re getting nowhere. The road they are paving for the human’s recovery is nothing more than them blindly stumbling in the dark and feeling their way around, and it’s to Declan’s detriment. At his expense. Torturing the already tortured soul. 

It’s cruel, August thinks. He took an oath when he devoted his life to medicine; he swore to alleviate pain and suffering, to do no harm, and uphold ethical practices. This cannot be ethical. Surely. What he’s doing feels downright criminal and inhumane. Is it worth the healing of Declan’s body only to terrorise his mind? Leaving him in perpetual anguish and dazing confusion day in and day out. Keeping him hidden and isolated far away from his loved ones.

August slides his back down the wall, head buried in his hands. He can still hear Declan’s shrill cries ringing in his ears, piercing through his heart. Honestly? He always hears them. Day and night. Since that first day Declan woke up and nearly burst his eardrums with his terrified screams. August’s conscience won’t let him forget them, it’s harrowing.

Because Declan is scared half to death of August. The screams are because of him. 

Home might just be the best medicine for Declan. That is the true cure August is searching for. Declan may not be held here with ropes and chains or kept under the lull of persuasion; but he is wholly and unwillingly dependent on August for his survival. Declan has no choice now but to rely on the vampire for his entire humanity -  he’s too weak to fend for himself, let alone chase his own heart's desire. He is reliant on the vampire for his nourishment, for his health, safety and protection and even his communication. His whole way of life. The only way Declan can exercise his own free will, is if August helps him to.

And well…Declan keeps asking for home. Who is August to deny him that?

“He’s going to try some sleep again,” Lucas whispers across the hallway, careful to slowly and gently pull the bedroom door to. No loud or sudden noises. They’ve learned that the hard way. “I’ve promised him we’ll leave him to it for tonight. He just needs space to breathe.”

And then what? Declan jolts awake an hour later in floods of tears and hiccuping sobs again? Do they ignore it this time? Leave him be and let him cry it out? Or send Lucas back in…he likes Lucas. August knows he shouldn’t be, but he’s so envious of that. He’d never harm a hair on Declan’s head, he’s fought tooth and nail to save him. Why must he be branded the bad guy?

August knows the answer. That doesn’t make it any easier.

“I have never seen fear like that in my life,” Lucas slumps beside August on the floor, a far-away look on his face like he’s just seen a ghost. He stares blankly, dead ahead, at the floral wallpaper across from him, and shakes his head in disbelief, “What the hell do you put a man through to make him scream in his sleep?”

Hell. Exactly that. That’s what you put him through. You turn him into a zombie, living dead. A body forced to live when its mind is melted to a puddle. You send him to tango with death and live to tell the tale. Hurt him until he can’t feel it, and even then still hurt him some more. It’s impossible to comprehend the horrors Declan suffered, or fathom why or how someone could do that to another living, breathing being. But it happened, and August can’t change that no matter how hard he tries. 

“Lucas? Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”

It’s a question that’s been rattling inside August’s skull for a while now. Guilt and sympathy fighting each other to the death. He only ever wanted to help Declan back on his feet, bring him completely back to himself and, help deliver him home all in one piece. August could never live with himself if Declan went home to his family,  lifeless and comatose. They may as well have sent him with his casket too. And he can’t send him back as he is now; the tattered man weeping himself into another dread-fueled nightmare.

Or can he? Should he?

“Without a doubt in my mind,” Lucas asserts, certain as can be. He says it with his entire chest, and he seems almost offended by the question. He straightens himself from his slouched slump on the floor, sitting up against the wall and crossing his legs underneath him, “What makes you ask that?”

August opens his mouth, but no words come out. His jaw clicks shut before he can even dare try. If he says it, it makes it all real, doesn’t it? Every worry springs into existence, everything he’s frightened of is brought to life. August will have to face all his mistakes and misdeeds, every foolish mis-step he’s taken in Declan’s care. But he has to own up to it sooner or later. Face the music. So he can do what’s right by Declan.

“I fear…  I fear we’re doing more harm than good to the boy.”

“August-”

“W-What if I’m getting this all wrong?” August falters, his voice thick with shameful, threatening tears. As Lucas shuffles closer to console him, August crumbles even more into the floor and wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “What - What if we’re hurting him, and sure maybe not hurting him like that vile monster who stole him but... in a different way?”

Declan still thinks and feels like a prisoner. He was trapped in Vince’s basement, and then he was trapped in his mind, his body and now trapped all over again. This time as August’s patient, stuck helpless in bed. 

But Lucas shakes his head passionately, giving a reaffirming squeeze to August’s knee. Lucas is too good to August, too kind and forgiving. It’s more than he could ever deserve in this life or the next. But right now his words of encouragement fall on deaf ears, August needs to be told how it is. And it's plain as day that his presence is damaging Declan, not helping him. Declan is still suffering. He’s supposed to be free and thriving, and he’s still hurting.

“Were it not for you, Declan would have taken his last pained breath that first night you brought him home. Even worse, he could have died a broken shell of a man in that basement, alone and suffering. You revived him. You gave him a second life.”

It doesn’t feel like it. What kind of life is jumping at shadows and cowering behind blankets? Terrified of what’s around the corner. A thousand words trapped in his mind that he could never say.

“I bought him. Like livestock…he thinks he’s my property-”

It’s time to call it a day, and let him give up the fight and lay down his sword.

“He’s just scared, August. He’s so scared, and all alone and horribly confused. He’s been through hell and back. It’s not you.”

“It is me, Lucas,” August disagrees,  “It’s what I am.”

A blood-sucking monster that stalks the night looking for its next prey to feed from and drain dry. August has spent his whole life trying to break free from that mould, to run far away from what he’s supposed to be and never look back. Somehow Declan sees right through him, right down to his core. He sees what August refuses and tries to hide from. His own blood, his very nature.

“How could he ever heal at the hands of something he fears the most?” August asks, disgusted with himself. He should rip out his fangs and run outside to bathe in the sun’s agonising rays. It sickens him that he is associated with the brute that did this to Declan. That August’s kind hunt and kill humans for food… for sport. Who could blame Declan for being scared of vampires. August is scared of vampires.

“He deserves better-”

“-Declan deserves you,”  Lucas’ tone was clipped, as if his word was final and there was no possible room for discussion. But August had known him so long, he could hear the affection underneath the terse words. “You are the best thing that could have ever happened to him. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lucas once looked at him the same way Declan looks at him now. With nothing but fear and disdain in his eyes. Backed into the corner like a scared small animal.  August remembers the way he felt when they both locked eyes for the first time, terror meeting terror; it felt like he wasn’t worthy of breathing the same oxygen. That he was a monster, and should whittle the stake himself and hand it to Lucas with an apologetic bow. 

Has August always mistook help for harm?  He must be doomed to repeat the same cycle of pain. Maybe it’s just in his cold-blood. His vile, worthless blood. Vampires hurt humans. That's how the story goes. There’s nothing he can do to escape that fate.

“My friend,” August chokes up, grabbing Lucas’ hands to squeeze in his own, and stroking his thumb over his wrists.  “I wronged you. I hurt you. Just like I’m hurting Declan now.”

A thousand apologies could never make up for what he’s done, the hurt he inflicted. Years down the line the shame and regret still plagues him, festers inside him deep down. Over and over he’s told he’s forgiven, more times than there are drops in the ocean. Again, it doesn’t change the fact it happened.

“You saved me,” Lucas gasps in awe, astounded by August’s confession. Something they’d both long agreed was water under the bridge. “ Just like you’re saving Declan. Would you have given up on me?”

“Never.”

“Then why give up on him? When he needs you more than I ever did?”

A fire lights inside of August, determination burns within him. This isn’t throwing in the towel, this is him fighting. Doing what’s right, even if it feels wrong. If it means letting go-

“I’m not giving up on him. I would never give up on him. I want to do what’s best by him.”

“I trust you, August. And I think if you just hold in there, Declan will learn to trust you too. It just needs time.”

Time does heal all wounds, as they say. And maybe Lucas is right. Maybe if they just play the waiting game, Declan could make it through to the other side, unharmed and unafraid. Yet August knows that these aren’t fresh wounds - not anymore - they’ve turned to ugly, withered scars. A permanent mark on the boy’s mind, body and soul. There’s no curing that. But could Declan learn to live with that?

“Tell yourself what you tell him. He’s not a captive. We’re going to take him home, yes?” Lucas quirks an interrogative brow, and August nods miserably in response. Declan is starting to feel like a captive against all intent and promises. “I think if we drop him off in human territory now - lame and pain-riddled, scared of everything that moves - that is what would be cruel. Us looking after him and building him back up for a little bit longer; that’s the mercy he’s begging for. Even if he doesn’t realise that right now.”

“How do I know which path to take?” August whispers with a wince, like the daunting thought threatens to implode inside his mind.

“Humans know so little of vampire persuasion, how it affects the brain and body. He could be stuck like this forever. His family will get half their son back at best. Who knows if his state will deteriorate? If he’ll ever walk or talk again. We can help him, August. You know that we can help him feel human again.”

“I don’t want to cause him any more unnecessary pain,” August laments, “He’s been through enough.”

August was never under any illusion this would be easy. He was prepared to weather the storm from the second he first laid eyes on Declan. Down in that basement; knelt and bound, small and fragile, unreachable and lifeless - drowning in Vince's power. August can help Declan, he’s got him this far already, he’s nearly out of the woods. They could do it, this could work. But at what cost? 

“Whatever you decide, I’m with you,” Lucas promises, “Wherever you go, I’ll follow. Always…”

August had saved Lucas before, hadn't he? Perhaps there is still hope. Perhaps he can still save Declan.

---

Thank you to @darkthingshappen for beta-ing this chapter!!!!

Next update will drop on Monday! (7/8) 🫶 Time for a lil flashback to how August and Lucas met... 🤫

Taglist: @octopus-reactivated @whatwasmyprevioususername @ramadiiiisme   @darkthingshappen  @whumpsday   @thecyrulik   @t0rture-me   @redwhump   @the-cryptid-finch   @snowstuffscuff   @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump   @wolfeyedwitch   @interdimensional-chaos   @termsnconditions-apply   @whump-blog   @leyswhumpdump  @not-a-space-alien   @onlybadendings   @darlingwhump  @sparrowsage   @flynnswhumpprompts  @whumpcereal  @wolves-and-winters  @ashh-ed  @idkmansomeusername @whuarri  @33-sdtr-45 @pigeonwhumps  @canislycaon24  @the-whumpers-grimm  @damienxozmoze  @predacon-skydrift  @morning-star-whump @neverthelass @espresso-depresso-system @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @mushroomlover554 @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @kadeee00 @that-one-small-world @doodlepoodle154 @sodacreampuff @cupcakes-and-pain @topsheepstudent

Let me know if you would like to be added or if I forgot you! 🥰

#Shattered #bloodbag whumpee #vampire caretaker #vampire whumper #recovery fic #rescued whumpee #declan durant oc #august crinamorte oc #lucas slater oc #angst #whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper #captivity #emotional breakdown #vampire whump #whump fic #whump series #whump writer

[fandomnerd9602]

That Lovin' Feeling

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace x Reader

The desert sun dipped below the horizon, painting the Mojave sky in fiery hues of orange and gold. You leaned against a gleaming Super Hornet, the crisp twilight air humming with the gentle drone of cooling engines. The echo of celebrations from the Top Gun graduation ceremony had faded, leaving behind a pleasant bit of silence in the legendary Maverick hangar.

Across the expanse of concrete, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace stood bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Her flight suit seemed to melt onto her lean frame, highlighting the confident set of her shoulders and the subtle curve of her hips. A stray lock of raven hair escaped her loose braid, catching the light like a feather on the wind. You watched her, mesmerized, as she ran her hand along the sleek fuselage of a decommissioned F-14 Tomcat, her gaze distant, tinged with a bittersweet nostalgia.

The urge to join her was irresistible. You pushed away from the Super Hornet and strode across the hangar, the silence stretching taut between you. As you drew closer, she turned, her emerald eyes snapping to yours. A playful smile curved her lips, the faintest blush warming her cheeks.

"Admiring the view, Rebel?" she teased, her voice laced with an undercurrent of warmth. Phoenix loved calling you by your call sign.

You chuckled, the tension easing. "Which view you talking about? The sunset, the Super Hornet or you?"

Her smile broadened. A small blush made its way across her face, "I can't believe your father's letting you look after this place"

"It was my home away from home" you shrug

"Did he say when he was coming back?" she asks, a little sway in her hips.

"Out sailing with Penny, I don't think we have an exact time but I think we have plenty of it"

The playful banter sparked a comfortable fire between you. You traded stories, anecdotes from your training, memories of Goose and your father, the infamous Maverick.

Her laughter, crisp and bright, filled the hangar, bouncing off the polished steel and leather.

As the shadows deepened, she led you further inside, away from the fading light. You found yourselves bathed in the soft illumination of a vintage lamp, spotlighting a corner tucked away amidst the planes. A worn leather couch sat near a dusty record player, the air thick with the scent of engine oil and old paperbacks.

She gestured to the couch, her smile inviting. You hesitated for a moment, then sank down beside her, the leather creaking softly. The silence returned, but this time, it felt charged, expectant.

She reached over, plucking a record from a nearby shelf. It was the Righteous Brothers, the familiar notes of "You've Lost that Loving Feeling" filling the air. Her fingers skimmed across the dusty record sleeve, then met yours in a fleeting touch. The electricity that sparked sent a shiver down your spine.

Without a word, she stood up, pulling you along with her. You stumbled to your feet, your hands still tingling from the contact. She took your hand, her grip firm, yet somehow delicate.

And then, she was dancing with you.

It wasn't a slow, romantic waltz. It was a whirlwind of playful spins and dips, feet tapping to the rhythmic beat. You laughed, surprised and delighted, her laughter blending with yours in a joyous harmony. Her steps were precise, yet strangely loose, mirroring the way she flew: fearless, controlled, yet undeniably graceful.

You held her close, the heat of her body burning through your flight suit. Her scent, a mix of aviation fuel and her own intoxicating perfume, filled your senses. Her eyes met yours, sparkling with unfiltered joy. The hangar, the planes, the world outside – everything faded away, leaving only you and her, caught in this whirlwind of music and laughter.

The final notes of the song faded away, leaving a breathless silence in its wake. You stood still, chests heaving, foreheads almost touching. Her eyes searched yours, a question unspoken yet hanging heavy in the air.

You leaned in, drawn by an invisible force. Her lips were soft and warm. The kiss was so brief, almost tentative, but it ignited a fire within you, a flicker of something real and raw that promised more.

As you pulled away, her gaze held yours, hesitant yet hopeful. You mirrored her expression, unsure of what this newfound connection meant, yet unwilling to let it go. The question hung in the air, echoing the song's final lyrics: "Bring back that lovin' feeling"

In that moment, bathed in the shadows of the Maverick family hangar, amidst the ghosts of a legendary plane, you felt a different kind of burn. A spark of hope, of possibility, of something that soared far beyond the confines of Top Gun, an echo of a future with Natasha "Phoenix" Trace by your side, dancing in the twilight between danger and desire.

for @deafeningsharkslimeempath

#top gun #top gun maverick #natasha trace #natasha phoenix trace #natasha x reader #natasha phoenix trace x reader #maverick #maverick reader #phoenix #phoenix x reader #monica barbaro

[alectoperdita]

Heeyyy there, can you do 36, 30 or 7 from the ask game???? Joukai of course. Thank uouuuuu!!!

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

36. Avalanche/huddle for warmth & 30. Only one bed

Ahhhhhh! Sorry this one took so long. It's longer than usual, though, so I hope that makes up for the wait. Thanks for your patience. ;;;_;;;

tags: hurt/comfort, minor injury word count: 3,265 words

---

Skiing was stupid. People who skied were even dumber.

Case in point, rich, arrogant good-for-nothing assholes skied.

Kaiba skied.

Jounouchi's argument was ironclad. Unassailable even.

"Watch it, you oaf," a voice colder than the biting wind howling around them snapped in his numb ear.

"I should leave you to become a popsicle," he grumbled, firming his stance in the soft, powdery snow and readjusting his grip on Kaiba, careful not to jostle the other man and set off another tirade of complaints.

"I could say the same."

The fingers burrowed under the fold of Jounouchi's scarf bit into the nape of his neck. Hard to tell if it was because of an involuntary reaction to pain or a deliberate warning. Either way, it and Kaiba's words took the wind right out of Jounouchi's sails.

Yeah, skiing might be stupid, but it was even dumber to attempt a slope above his novice ability only to get lost off the trail. Especially as a winter storm brewed. But he couldn't stand how effortlessly Kaiba made everything appear, so suave and eye-catching in his ski gear. Or how he turned up his nose at Jounouchi.

It inspired a familiar feeling, one that drove him to act recklessly.

So it was Jounouchi's rotten luck that Kaiba, as the most experienced skier in the group, ultimately tracked him down. Kaiba predictably berated him for his idiocy, Jounouchi snapped back, and they fought. And then, in a begrudging attempt to extract Jounouchi from a ditch, the man fell and busted his leg instead.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he studied Kaiba's beet-red face. Kaiba wore his ski goggles atop his head like a hairband, pulling back his bangs and exposing his forehead. So it wasn't hard to spot the pained grimace wrinkling his brow. Flurries clung to his long lashes, no matter how often he tried to blink them away. He was sweating buckets despite the frigid temperature.

Jounouchi sympathized with that. Underneath his thick winter coat, his own clothing stuck uncomfortably to his skin. He'd kill to be back at the lodge and enjoying a hot shower.

"We need to get out of the open," Kaiba declared.

Jounouchi swept a critical eye across the windswept landscape. There were trees and snow as far as he could see, but his range was limited. Visibility plummeted as the storm intensified.

"Can't you, like, call for help? Doncha have a satellite uplink on you all the damn time?" asked Jounouchi.

"Atmospheric conditions affect satellite communication," Kaiba sneered, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

It probably was to a guy like him. Jounouchi merely rolled his eyes and focused on their terrestrial concern, repeatedly putting one foot in front of the other to make the most painstaking progress. It was the only way they'd get out of this if they couldn't count on rescue incoming.

"Who would've guessed you had such dainty ankles?" he said, then winced when it sounded like a shout as the howling wind died down at that precise moment.

"Excuse me," hissed Kaiba, tightening his grip. Ouch, ouch, he was definitely squeezing his neck on purpose.

Jounouchi had already dug his hole, so whatever. "I think you need more calcium in your diet, dude. Ya twisted that ankle like nothing. If you're not careful, you're gonna start breaking your hip like 'em little old ladies."

"First of all, it's not a fractured ankle, it's a fractured tibia. Second, my calcium intake is fine. Better than yours, given the trash I've seen you shovel into your mouth. And third, I'm taller, which means I have a higher center of gravity, which affects..."

Jounouchi tuned out the rest of the rant. He could feel the nervous energy flowing from Kaiba to him. As long as Kaiba kept running his mouth, it meant he stayed awake and alert. It meant he kept working with Jounouchi to cross the increasingly treacherous and snow-blind slope.

A stark shiver wracked their bodies. Jounouchi paused to assess his companion again.

Kaiba's teeth chattered. Sweat blanketed his forehead. Neither were good signs.

"You okay? Cold? In pain?" he asked softly.

"Yes," was Kaiba's reply. Which was as clear and helpful as mud.

Jounouchi sighed and urged them onward. He could only guide them toward what he hoped was the downward direction and pray that they stumbled back onto the trail.

After limping for what felt like hours, their footsteps dragged heavier and heavier behind them as snowfall and fatigue weighed them down in equal parts. That was when Jounouchi spotted what he prayed wasn't a mirage beyond a thicket of trees.

Slanted rooftop, horizontal wooden slats, the glint of glass windows—a cabin!

Giddy from the sudden shot of adrenaline, he nudged Kaiba. "Hey, hey. There's a cabin up ahead!"

Kaiba blinked blearily. He'd grown strangely quiet during the recent stretch. Now, he squinted, scrutinizing the building in the distance, perhaps wondering like Jounouchi if it was real.

The decision made itself.

"Let's go. You know what? I'm gonna carry you on my back. It'll be faster." Jounouchi was already carefully lowering Kaiba onto the snow-blanketed ground while keeping the weight off his injured ankle.

"No," Kaiba snapped. He clung to Jounouchi's biceps.

"It'll be fine, ya stubborn bastard. I swear I'll never tell another living soul so your damn pride can stay intact. I dunno about you, but I wanna get out of the cold ASAP."

"And if you drop me? Or you break your ankles next? What then?" challenged Kaiba. There was an increasingly frantic light shining in his eyes.

"Trust me. I don't wanna die out here any more than you do!"

For several terrifying beats, Kaiba stared at him. His claws were locked in rictus, threatening to rip into Jounouchi's padded winter jacket.

"C'mon, we're both freezing our butts off."

Jounouchi didn't know what convinced Kaiba in the end. Maybe the poor bastard was too wrung out to pick a fight.

"You drop me and it'll be the last thing you ever do." The threat lacked teeth, though.

Kaiba's hands trembled as they released Jounouchi's sleeve. They shook when they planted themselves on Jounouchi's shoulders. Kaiba was heavier than anticipated. Turns out there was meat on those bones after all. But it was a weight Jounouchi could shoulder.

The strangest sensation by far was the hot and heavy feeling of Kaiba breathing down his neck. Yet it was a soothing reminder that Kaiba was alive. Jounouchi huffed and puffed the final stretch to the tiny cabin, but he never dropped Kaiba.

Once they climbed onto the raised porch, Jounouchi deposited him against the railing and shook the accumulated snow from his gear. Eyes drilled into his back as he pulled off his beanie and brushed his hair clean.

The dog comparison he was certain was incoming never materialized, though. Kaiba must really be tired.

Hobbling on his feet, Kaiba's gaze stayed fixed on the door. "How do you propose we get inside?"

"Uh... Key under the mat?"

Kaiba leveled a disgusted look at him. He banged twice on the door with his fist. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

Right. Also, wouldn't hurt to check if there were already people inside. Preferably someone who could help them and wasn't going to hunt them across the mountainside for sport. He blamed Bakura for that last thought.

Leaning close, Jounouchi peered into the window, straining to see through the gap between the curtains. It was dark inside. There was no movement. No one was home. That made sense. The ski racks out front stood barren.

They'd long abandoned their equipment, too. No point in dragging extra weight along when Kaiba was already injured.

"Stay here. I'll check around back," ordered Jounouchi before hopping off the porch.

He circled the perimeter. It hardly took any time. To call it a cabin was probably generous to someone like Kaiba. But it looked sturdy, and it offered shelter from the storm. As he passed one window on the side, he noticed a small sign in it that read "Ski Patrol."

He jogged back to Kaiba. "Cabin belongs to ski patrol. There might even be a phone inside!"

Kaiba turned and greeted him with a key ring dangling from his index finger.

"Where'd you find those?"

"Hideaway inside a fake rock." Kaiba gestured to a pile sitting in the porch's corner.

Jounouchi laughed. "So I was right. That's basically under the mat. God, I hope they're the spares to this place."

He was glad they didn't have to go with his backup plan of busting through a window.

Braced against the doorframe, Kaiba went through two keys on the ring before he unlocked the door. Jounouchi whooped in celebration. Then, he moved forward to shoulder Kaiba's weight and usher them inside.

To Jounouchi's relief, the cabin came equipped with indoor plumbing and even a gas stove in the open kitchen out in the main room. There was a small round table and several chairs, but nowhere to lie down. But in another interior room, he found a bed.

One cramped twin-sized bed squeezed between the wall and a narrow nightstand. There wasn't room for much else.

He went back to the main room to report his findings. Kaiba sat at the dining table where Jounouchi left him, but he had his injured leg propped up on a second chair, ski boot and all.

"Phone's down," Kaiba grunted. "There's electricity, but there's no telling how long the generator will hold up. It's best if we don't use it until we must."

Jounouchi groaned. Guess it was too much to hope for. "Cool, well, there's only one bed."

Kaiba stared at him, unblinking for long lengths. Yeesh, did the bastard really think he was going to fight an injured person for the sole bed?

He approached the table. "You should take it. You're the one with the busted ankle. Want me to carry ya, princess?"

Laughing, he barely dodged the ski goggles Kaiba flung at his head. Somehow, that restored the equilibrium between them.

"Make yourself useful and find a first aid kit," barked Kaiba.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Inside a kitchenette cabinet, he located a red bag with a white cross.

"Found it!"

A soft swear answered him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Kaiba hunched over his elevated foot, struggling with his bootstraps. Jounouchi heaved a sigh, and on his way back to the table, he grabbed an afghan blanket folded on a shelf. He deposited the first aid kit on the tabletop and the blanket onto Kaiba's head, where his hair turned damp from the melting snow.

Kaiba cursed, louder this time, his limbs flailing under the blanket. Jounouchi kneeled down next to him, shed his gloves, and started working the snaps open. Above him came a snarl. He peered up just in time to see the outrage on Kaiba's face melt into shock after he ripped the wool away. Fighting a sudden wave of self-consciousness, Jounouchi lowered his gaze and kept going. His fingers, slowly warming, fumbled briefly on the next catch.

He waited for Kaiba to say something. Anything. Bark an order. Throw an insult. But Kaiba had gone deadly quiet, howling in his silence. The behavior was so strange Jounouchi wondered if Kaiba also hit his head when he fell.

Either way, Jounouchi felt the other man's stare drill through the top of his head.

Next came the hard part: getting the boot off without further agitating Kaiba's injury.

Again, his eyes flicked up to Kaiba's face, where he noted the almost contemplative expression that now dominated its planes. "Ya ready for this?"

Kaiba squared his shoulders, then nodded.

Yet afterward, the man's forehead was drenched with sweat, his face stripped of all color. Jounouchi went straight to the first aid kit and fished out the painkillers. With trembling hands, Kaiba snapped up the packet, tore it open, and swallowed two pills before Jounouchi could ask if he wanted a glass of water.

Figures Kaiba was the kind of freak that could swallow pills dry.

As Kaiba slumped forward and placed his head down atop the table, Jounouchi helped him out of the other ski boot as well. He set the footwear, both emblazoned with fancy KC logos, aside.

"Thank you."

The words stunned Jounouchi. His head whipped up, and he gawked at Kaiba. He couldn't see Kaiba's face, but the tips of his ears blazed bright red.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Jounouchi replied, "That should be my line. You're the one that found me after I got my dumbass self lost. So thanks for coming to get me."

To his surprise, Kaiba didn't lift his head. His bangs smeared across the tabletop as he nodded, though.

"And sorry you got hurt because of that," Jounouchi added quietly. His eyes darted back to Kaiba's elevated leg, but the thick pants made it impossible to gauge the severity of his condition. "How bad do you think it is?"

The table muffled Kaiba's reply. "Are there scissors in that kit?"

"Yeah."

"Cut the pant leg up to the knee."

Knowing that the alternative was somehow peeling Kaiba out of said pants, Jounouchi obeyed without complaint. He worked carefully, though, not wanting to cut Kaiba. A gigantic bruise sat halfway up to Kaiba's knee, right around where his ski boot ended. The entire area was swollen, but there was no sign of blood.

"No bone pushing through the skin, so that's a good sign." Kaiba said, suddenly right next to Jounouchi's ear. His warm breath puffed over Jounouchi's cheek.

Jounouchi jerked back, grabbing the chair's back to steady himself.

Thankfully, Kaiba was too preoccupied with examining his leg to notice his overreaction. "I should splint it."

Jounouchi jumped to his feet. "Splint, yeah, makes sense. Ya need a stick or something, right? I'll look for one."

As luck would have it, he dug up segments of PVC pipes already cut in half. Kaiba also appeared pleased when he presented them, kindling a warm glow within Jounouchi's ribcage.

"Can I help with anything else?" he asked, despite not knowing how to make a splint.

Kaiba hesitated before replying, "I have it handled. But I'll let you know if I need anything."

Jounouchi nodded automatically. He bounced between one foot and the other as Kaiba worked. But when Kaiba peered up at him for a second, something inside him snapped. He spun on his heels before declaring, "I saw a firewood shed out back. Gonna see if I can get a fire going for us."

Without waiting for a response, he fled the small cabin. The cold hit him in the face like a slap. It was invigorating. Got his blood pumping in a good way.

It wasn't until he dropped several split logs that he realized he'd left his gloves inside. Instead of going to retrieve them, he sank to his knees and cupped his numb hands to his mouth, blowing hot air over him. He couldn't say how long he stayed like that before the chill finally drove him back into the cabin.

Kaiba barely acknowledged him when he returned. That made Jounouchi feel simultaneously better and worse. The bastard hadn't even waited for Jounouchi to return before he somehow hobbled his way over to the loveseat close to the fireplace.

He focused on the fireplace instead.

Once the fire got going, the temperature inside warmed considerably. Unsurprisingly, Kaiba had to be bullied out of his outerwear before he could be swathed with blankets over his shoulders and his newly splinted leg.

Save for the seldom pop and crackle of the fire, it was silent.

Kaiba glared at his smartphone, occasionally adjusting its position as if that would catch a stray signal bar. Jounouchi also checked his phone, but he was sure his coverage was shit compared to Kaiba's.

Jounouchi also hung up his jacket to dry and shed his ski boots by the door. He didn't hesitate snatching the quilt off the bed in the other room, huddling under it while standing next to the fire.

"You stand any closer and you'll catch fire," came a dry quip from behind him.

He turned to face Kaiba and found the man with his phone facedown on his lap while squeezing the bridge of his nose. He lay lengthwise along the too-small loveseat with his legs elevated on the armrest and his sock-clad toes peeking out from under a blanket.

Despite that, Kaiba looked cozy? Shit, Jounouchi felt a bit insane even thinking about that. But Kaiba appeared comfy. His sharp angles and harsh lines blunted under woolen curves.

Disarmed. Soft. Jounouchi had never seen him that way before.

"What?" snapped Kaiba, jerking Jounouchi from his hazy thoughts. When he shivered, though, the entire fabric mass shook with him.

"Still cold?" Jounouchi asked as he padded closer.

Kaiba dropped his gaze to his pale hands clasped on his lap. "Nothing to be alarmed about. I've always had circulation issues."

Jounouchi laughed. "Cuz you're a skinny beanpole."

Kaiba glared, but he didn't argue.

Another insane thought crossed Jounouchi's mind. One he shouldn't dare entertain, but being cold probably wasn't good for Kaiba's leg in his current state. He had already dedicated himself to Kaiba's well-being to this point. Might as well ensure neither of them became popsicles before Kaiba could get proper medical attention.

"Alright, budge up."

Kaiba should hurry. Before Jounouchi lost his nerves.

"Excuse me."

"Ya heard me. Make room. We're gonna share body heat."

"Why?" Kaiba's voice rose an octave. He gave Jounouchi a frantic once-over from head to toe.

"So we don't freeze, duh."

Kaiba looked at him as if he was insane.

Jounouchi felt insane.

"Look, you're still cold, and I'm not giving you this blanket too. It's the last one," he argued.

For a moment, Kaiba looked as if he might eject Jounouchi from the cabin entirely, busted leg be damned. But then a miracle happened. Kaiba, after lowering his gaze, scooted forward, leaving space for Jounouchi to join him on the furniture. With his heart in his throat, Jounouchi squeezed in, carefully wiggling until he bracketed Kaiba's tense form with his legs. Without asking, because he was positive the answer would be no, Jounouchi pulled the other man's back flush to his chest.

Kaiba stiffened. He froze as if he had been left outside in sub-zero temperatures. That gave Jounouchi an opening to slip an arm around Kaiba's waist, but he left the limb atop a layer of quilt.

From this angle, he could only make out the back of Kaiba's head and the tip of his flaming ears.

Kaiba remained strangely mute. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest signaled his consciousness. Another shudder wracked through his body, and Jounouchi could feel it, from the hissing inhale to the tensing of back muscles to the exhale and shoulder slumping under the woolen weight.

Kaiba stopped shivering afterward, though. So that counted as a success, right?

"Don't worry, I don't mind sharing the bed with you if you want a space heater there too," Jounouchi joked. A hard lump formed in his throat, and he fought the urge to tighten his arms.

In response, Kaiba elbowed him in the stomach. But it was a light touch for him.

Jounouchi wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was content to remain here. Just the two of them huddled under blankets until the storm finally passed. And when Kaiba leaned back against him, he gave the impression he didn't mind either.

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

#replies #lorennaaaaaaaa #yugioh #puppyshipping #violetshipping #kaijou #my fanfiction #writing prompts #in case you're wondering i imagine them as skiing in Nagano #look at them and their dumb crushes on each other but channeling it into being competitive with each other instead #i still have two more of these to go #will hopefully get to them soon #thanks again for your patience <3

[imaginepirates]

Everything I Need

Jack and the reader both have feelings for each other, but have yet to act on them. When the reader sees him kissing someone else, they think he's already in a relationship, and they begin pushing him away to save their own emotions.

@emdrabbles @tesserphantom @viper-official @hellspawn-brownies @groovy-lady @ghoulishbehaviour @kittenlittle24

~3100 words

~~~~~~~

The distinct slide of warm sand through your toes pulled a smile to your face. After six long months of roving, the Pearl had made port back at Tortuga, and your feet hit solid ground for the first time in half a year. As much as you loved sailing, a ship was only so large, and you could only walk the same fifty yards of deck so many times before it began to drive you batty. 

The scenery never changed on the open ocean, not truly. Oh, every day the water was a new shade, and the sky a new color, and the patterns of the waves and clouds never took the same shapes, but even when the sea changed from serene to angry, wind was still wind, and water still water. 

The little cove you’d tucked yourself into was a welcome change to all that. You relished the vibrant greens and yellows and reds of the plants, as well as the chirping of birds, and even the singing cicadas. Later, you would enjoy new company, too, and new stories alongside, but for the moment, you were content to sit only with the company of the land. 

Your seclusion, however, didn’t last long. A figure dropped down next to you, barefoot with their trousers rolled up to the knee. It hadn’t taken Jack long to find you; he knew you too well. It should have annoyed you more, that he always knew where you would be, but his company was never unwelcome. 

“Glad to be back ashore?” 

You accepted the bottle he held out to you, taking a swig before answering. “In all honesty, I am. But you’re already itching to be back out there, aren’t you?” You nudged him with a knee, and he smiled back at you, used to your teasing. 

“Can’t help myself, love. The ocean calls to me, and who am I to deny her? I have everything I need out there.”

“Except rum. You come back for that.”

“Except rum,” he agreed. 

It was easy, conversation between you. Jack had a way about him like a gentle morning tide, an ebb and flow to his words and thoughts, simple to wade through and enjoyably warm. A part of you wondered whether he shared this side of himself with everyone, and another, selfish part of you secretly hoped he didn’t. 

The truth you had come to accept was simple: after many long years of knowing him, somewhere along the line you’d fallen a little in love with your captain. That truth, of course, was a maddeningly frustrating one. There were many unspoken rules aboard a ship, the first and foremost being that no part of the crew was to have romantic, or god forbid sexual, relations with the captain. It was a grand violation of the fragile ecosystem that was ship life. Compounded with that fact was the deeper, more meaningful reason you couldn’t bring yourself to confess— Jack was a creature of freedom, and in desiring his affection, you would be denying him the full range of liberty he needed. It was a thing you simply couldn’t do. 

“What are the chances Anamaria has already gotten into a fight?” Jack was still staring out over the horizon, that characteristic gleam in his eye. 

“What are the chances she’s already won?” You knew Anamaria, and there was a high likelihood that by the time you got to whatever tavern she was in, someone would already owe her money. And have a broken jaw. 

Jack stood, helping you to your feet and corking his bottle. “I won’t let you be reclusive all night. I’ll need someone sympathetic there when Anamaria decides it’s my turn.”

“I’d pay good money to see that.”

Jack feigned offense. “How could you?”

“Because if there’s someone knocking you around, you likely deserve it.”

You walked into town like that, joking and placing meaningless bets on who had gotten up to what while you were both away. Tortuga was exactly like you remembered it, a city much like the sea, where things never really changed. Every building was still itself, if a little more tattered and worn. Not that you minded. That exact attribute was what made it perfectly suited for a group of pirates. The place had its charm, even amongst the heaps of mud and rusty door-joints. Old and battered, just like you all were.

Jack slipped past you into a crowded bar, and you promptly followed. You were overwhelmed all at once by the rowdy music, the sea of voices, the mix of smells, the different fabrics, and the heat created by so many bodies in so little space. You tried peeking around for a familiar face but had no such luck. Instead, you accepted the random fluke of drink Jack had plucked off a bar and set in your hands. 

It took careful navigation through multiple rooms before you saw anyone you knew. Sure enough, Anamaria had a stack of coins on the table in front of her, and half the room away a man was nursing a black eye and bloody nose. 

You settled down next to her, eyeing the considerable amount of money she’d won, grinning. You could swear she had some sort of gambling god sitting on her shoulder, whispering in her ear and telling her the right cards to play. Jack had wandered off somewhere else, presumably in search of something new to drink. You watched him go, letting your eyes linger on his form in the dim light, comfortable in the knowledge he couldn’t catch you, only to get an elbow in the ribs from Anamaria who sat just beside you. 

“You have got to stop staring at him like that.”

“Hey now, don’t be unfair.” You held up your hands, reluctantly tearing your eyes from Jack. “It’s not that bad. I really doubt many people have noticed.”

“Only half the crew. If excitement onboard doesn’t pick up, we’ll be betting on you two next.”

“That’s unfair. Pintel and Ragetti provide ample entertainment.”

Speaking of those two, you noticed them across the room, clearly bickering over some newfound subject. They always found ways to inspire philosophical discussion, even if the philosophy at hand was objectively ridiculous. 

Unfortunately, though, Anamaria was right. Your feelings for Jack were probably a bit obvious, despite trying to keep them to yourself. You were afraid Jack would find out, or worse — that he already knew. But you couldn’t keep yourself from noticing his smile, his laugh, any simple expressions of true joy that weren’t part of his facade. He put on an act, you knew, for most people. The perfectly suave pirate come to rob you of all earthly riches, leaving you dazed and a little enthralled. An alluring storybook character come to life. It was those real smiles, though, that you couldn’t shake from your brain, that kept you staring after him even as the moment faded and passed. 

Then there were the endearments, said out of habit if anything else, but they still had their charm. Every time he called you ‘love’, you got this warm sensation in your chest like the feeling of a good drink, spreading to your stomach and dancing across your limbs. Flirtation was in his nature, but that didn’t make it any less effective.

You sighed, taking a sip of the mystery drink Jack had handed you. It was some sort of cocktail, pleasantly fruity with a hint of grenadine*. Jack had disappeared, so your focus shifted toward watching other bar-goers. A tall blonde sawed a whipping fiddle, the tune drawing dancers to the center of the floor. The dancers, of course, were too drunk to keep their coordination, and the resulting chaos of limbs had you snickering. 

Tortuga really was the last bastion of revelry in the ever-shrinking world. You let yourself enjoy it; there was enough time for overthinking things later. For the time being, you relaxed back into your seat, cheering on Anamaria when another poor sod challenged her to cards, wheezing with laughter as Gibbs attempted a jig, blushing and breathless as the fiddler pulled you into the crowd for a dance of your own. 

By the time early morning rolled around, the bar was full of passed-out patrons, people napping wherever they could find room. You rose groggily to your feet, unaware of how long you’d been asleep, and staggered to the door. The outside air made a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat inside the bar, and the smell of brine helped clear your head. You rubbed your eyes and straightened up. 

You walked around the back of the bar in hopes of finding clean water with which to wash your face, only to see a handsome, redheaded young-man with their fingers buried in the front of Jack’s shirt. And their mouth firmly on his. 

You whipped around before either of them could notice you, stalking back the way you came. You didn’t hear the soft thud of the redhead’s body hitting the wall as Jack pushed them away, nor Jack’s voice, calm but firm, denying any further advances. Instead, you followed your feet until they hit sand, curling up in the cove you’d found the previous day. 

You should have known. You should have known Jack would already have someone, someone he was closer to than you. You couldn’t be the only person in love with him—if you’d noticed all the wonderful things about him, other people undoubtedly had, too. Jack had been a pirate for a long time, and had a whole past you knew nothing about. Of course there would be someone else. 

You curled and uncurled your fingers in the sand. The breeze off the ocean did nothing to cool the hot wave of jealousy that rolled over you. You let it sit there, broiling and festering and simmering within you, allowing yourself to stew over it. Warm tears fell over your cheeks, and you wiped them away angrily with the back of your hand.

Then it was gone. Like the recession of the morning tide, your jealousy left you in one fell swoop, and only exhaustion and emptiness remained as you hugged your knees. You had no right to feel jealous of Jack’s lover. You and Jack had never shared a romantic relationship, and you had no claim to him. All you had were the feelings you kept to yourself, and it was your own fault for never acting on them. If anything, you should be happy Jack had someone he cherished; it was so rare as a pirate to find time for partners. 

Still, a little nagging voice in the back of your head whispered its miseries in your ear. 

Back aboard the Pearl, the crew filed onto the ship, still dreary and in need of more sleep. But Jack seemed anxious to leave, and everyone was used to hangovers and quick departures. Gibbs grumbled something along the lines of ‘what trouble has Jack gotten into this time?’, but nobody argued about getting underway. 

For you, it was both a blessing and a curse. While you doubted anyone had noticed your absence that morning, you were less than thrilled with the prospect of seeing Jack every day and being reminded of the feelings you desperately needed to leave behind. Then again, leaving Tortuga meant you wouldn’t have to hide from the bars in fear of more…potent reminders. 

You spent your time avoiding Jack as much as possible. Somehow, there was always a task for you to do down below when he was on deck, or rigging to climb until he was a speck far beneath you. The crow’s nest was quickly becoming your favorite spot. You could climb there and brood for a while under the pretense of watching out for the Navy—any of them—and you didn’t have to deal with concern from the crew over uncharacteristic frowning. 

But he noticed. And you noticed he noticed because his gaze wavered whenever it landed on you, and that never used to happen before. He’d stopped speaking with you, though you felt how much he wanted to. You told yourself it was for the best, but it felt wrong at the same time.

In truth, it hurt. You missed your old conversations, the easy familiarity you used to share. Your life on the Pearl just wasn’t the same without it. It was your fault, too, which stung even more, and you hated thinking that you were putting Jack through any sort of torment of his own. Your intention was never to hurt him, but you feared that was part of the result you were getting. 

As it turned out, Jack wasn’t the only one who noticed. “Why are you avoiding him so much lately?” Anamaria sidled up to you, helping you secure belaying pins. Jack wasn’t on deck, so you were more free to talk without fear of anything getting back to him.

Leave it to her to sniff things out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried playing the comment off, but knew you failed miserably. 

“Did something happen between the two of you in Tortuga?” 

“No.”

She put a hand over yours, halting your work and forcing you to meet her gaze. “Something’s wrong, of that I’m sure. Care to enlighten me?” Seeing your hesitation, she reassured you. “I’m your friend. I’m not going to tell anyone, and I’m not going to judge you. Too much.” 

You knew from her smirk that she was joking, and it was the first time you’d had any humor around in weeks. It felt good to have that dynamic back, and you warmed to the idea of opening up, though you were a bit mortified to do so. 

“It’s just…” you began, “you know I have feelings for Jack. And I was finally coming to terms with them, but the morning we left, I realized there’s no place for them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I saw Jack kissing someone else.” You stopped mid-action, the rope in your hands suffering an unfinished knot.

You didn’t need to look at her to know Anamaria was shocked. You pushed on, the silence too much for you to bear at the moment. “It makes sense: I mean, he’s been a pirate for a long time, and he’s had all these adventures and travels, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he met someone on one of them. I have no right to feel jealous; we were never together.”

“That doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Anamaria’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, her thumb rubbing gently over your shirt. 

You sighed. She was right, as usual. “No, it really doesn’t.”

“I’d say let’s spit in his drink, but you’ve already acknowledged it’s not that sort of situation.”

You smiled a little in spite of yourself. You continued working in silence, taking as much comfort from her company as you could. Maybe with her around, and being friends with the rest of the crew, you could dull some of your pain with their companionship. No matter how much it stung that Jack couldn’t love you, you could never be truly lonely with the rest of them by your side. 

Evening fell with a cloudless sunset, nothing to obscure the reds and yellows and pinks of the darkening sky. You stayed on deck instead of retreating somewhere else, unwilling to let your negative thoughts get the better of you. You were still alone, standing at the rail by yourself, but you weren’t lonely with the rest of the crew milling about, wisps of conversation drifting over to you. 

A presence at your side made you turn. It was Jack, staring out over the horizon, looking a little anxious. You couldn’t blame him. You knew you were the source of his discomfort, and you wanted to make up for it as best as you could, though the prospect of confessing the reasons behind your behavior scared you. He would think less of you for this, you were sure. He was too easygoing to understand why you would be so caught up on jealousy.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but you started. “I know I’ve been distant, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for what had to come next. “I saw you in Tortuga the morning we left, you know, with that boy. He’s a handsome sort, and I’m glad for you, but I had no idea you were in any sort of relationship, and I had kind of been hoping…” you trailed off. This was hard, but you had to grit through it, because not talking to Jack again would be harder. “I had feelings for you. Have feelings. And watching you with him has kind of been eating me up alive.”

You risked a look over to Jack after a moment, waiting on a response. To your surprise, he looked shocked, and beneath that, you saw a tinge of sadness. 

“I’m sorry to overwhelm you,” you began, but Jack cut you off with a shake of his head. 

“I’m the sorry one, love. You shouldn’t have had to see that, and it gave you the completely wrong idea.”

Now it was your turn for shock, and not a little panic. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I didn’t want him to kiss me.” The sentence hung in the air before Jack continued. “It’s not that he isn’t good looking, or that I don’t know him—I do, but I don’t feel that way about him. I don’t…” Jack frowned, looking for the right word. “I don’t love him.”

“Oh.” It came out so small you weren’t sure you’d even said anything, but Jack finally managed to look you in the eye. 

“I don’t know if I deserve your affection. My flirting gets me in trouble; you got to see it first hand. And that got me in trouble with you. I’m not sure I’m worthy of commitment.”

“Oh Jack.” You raised a hand to cup the side of his face. “I don’t think you have a choice. I’ve already loved you for so long, I’m not sure I can stop.”

“Even though I deserve one of Anamaria’s beatings?”

“Even though that.”

Jack’s fingers laced themselves through yours, keeping your hand in place on his cheek. “I don’t need land to find my lover. You said it yourself: I could stay at sea forever. Because I have everything I need right here.”

*I’m aware grenadine wasn’t invented until 1872, but I needed to put something there, and idk my alcohol. 

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #jack sparrow #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow x reader #potc fanfiction #x reader #pirates #pirate #writing

[gothic-thoughts]

Hey! Do you plan on doing an Exes2LoversAU with Zoro part 2 where they go though a similar situation three years ago, and reader fears the the same thing happens again where he’ll leave her, but this time, he doesn’t (the reader probably gained some kind of abandonment issues from last time)

Ouuu, I like that. I didn't even have an idea for a part two fr

For the those who don't know, Part 1 is Right Here

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(A/n): Thanks for the request and sorry it took so long, know that I saw it I just couldn't think of a scenario.

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No One Left Behind? (Part 2)

Roronoa Zoro x Black Fem Reader Angst (Fluff)

Exes2LoversAU, PirateAU

CW: Reader learning to trust Zoro again, robbery

TW: abandonment issues??

Word Count: 1050 (give or take)

Previously:

“I know you work alone, but just think about it.”

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Zoro was sitting in another bar after helping Nami save her town. The crew sailed for a while before stopping at this island where the ex-pirate hunter was now indulging himself with a bottle of wine, but he stood out more than he would've liked to. You walk into the same bar, but you recognize those three swords anywhere.

You continue walking casually, pulling out your new dagger while you walk up to his barstool from behind. Once you were close enough, you poke the blade into his lower back and rest your chin on his right shoulder. Zoro’s eyes look to your face, his body still motionless. 

“Long time no see again, Roronoa.” You whisper in his ear.

“It seems you have a knack for showing up when I least expect it.”

“Well, I gotta keep the pirate hunter on his toes; you might lose your edge.”

“I've faced stronger opponents than you, and I'll continue to do so." Zoro says, with a smirk, taking another swig of his wine.

You chuckle as you tuck the blade into your boot before sitting on the barstool to his right. 

“Guessing you're not in this town because you knew I was here.”

"I could say the same about you; why are you here? You following me now?"

“Tch, following you? You wish. I was on this island first; I saw your floating clubhouse pull in just yesterday.”

"Hm. You didn't answer my question." He raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?" 

“You know I go where the wind takes me. Literally. But I’m in this bar specifically for a lead.”

“Lead? You a detective now?”

“Relax, it’s for my own best interest.”

“Thank god, thought you might’ve been turned into some kind of saint.”

“Call it payback,” You say, taking a shot, “Some dickhead stole an entire pouch of berry from me in here yesterday. Was kinda hoping he’d come back.”

"And how'd you let that happen? You getting soft on me?"

“Go ahead, laugh.” You chuckle before taking another shot, “Not one of my proudest moments. The bastard lives in some big, fancy inn.”

“Inn, huh?” Zoro chuckles, sipping more wine, "You must be pretty desperate if you're going after someone who lives in an inn."

“Must you think so low of me, Roronoa? It's a luxury inn, meaning he's loaded; which is why I wanna know why he stole my shit.”

“I guess that means you're gonna have to find out." He asks, with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Thanks, I hadn’t noticed. Though...”

“Though?”

“If you're not busy with your little pirate club, you could help me get it back.”

He chuckles, “You...need help?”

“It's high class, so it'll be crawling with security, I bet. And besides, we haven’t seen each other since last time I wanted to kill you, so it'll be a....bonding...exercise.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow at your comment, a small smile on his lips.

"When do you want to go?"

“Ten.” You stand from your seat, putting a dollar on the bar for the bartender, “Can I trust you to meet me outside the Inn at 10 pm? Or do I have to deal with another heartbreak and drag you from your pirate friends?"

He smirks, "Kicking and screaming?"

"I would hope so. I mean, if it's okay with your captain, of course.”

Zoro finishes off his bottle of wine and then gets up from his seat.

“You have my word.” He says, tossing some coins on the bar before making his way towards the exit.

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At 10pm, I was leaning on the wall outside the Inn, looking back and forth down the road, waiting for Zoro to round the corner. I groan in annoyance with myself before kicking a stray bottle near me, and when it breaks in the middle of the road, I swear under my breath for possibly alerting any guards inside as I start to pace back and forth, trying to console myself down.

"I knew it!" I chuckle in disbelief, "Just like when he left the first time. Ugh, can't believe I trusted him again!"

I punched the wall a couple times before kicking over a barrel, breaking and stepping into it with the heel of my boot.

"Fine." I pull my sword, squeezing the handle tightly. "I should've just handled it my-damn-self."

I take a deep breath, preparing to go through whatever happened inside, no matter how many guards there were between me and my stolen berry. I hear heavy boots stepping against the cobblestone, and I groan loudly, thinking it was passersby that didn't need to get in the way. But when I turn to the sound, I see Zoro approaching with one hand in his pocket and the other on one of his three swords. It was 10:10.

"Sorry, I'm late." He stops a couple inches from me, "You okay?"

"I...." My eyebrows furrow, and my brain fogs with confusion, "You....came?"

"I gave you my word."

"I don't know what your word is worth. We were enemies, remember?"

"Fair. Well, my word is my law—my promise."

"Then where the hell were you?"

"Well, coming out this late had me getting a lot of questions...."

"....Mm."

"And then I took a wrong turn when I got off the boat."

"I...." I stutter, looking away from him as the grip on my sword loosens, "Believe you."

"You sure you're okay? If you're not up to it, I could always get the money back while you wait here."

I snap out of it and look at him, "Don't you 'damsel-in-distress' me! I invited you, and I can handle myself. I just needed someone to watch my six."

"I know, cuz I wasn't going to. And look...I don't know if I said this when you found me at that bar," Zoro says, locking our eyes with a glance, "But I'm not leaving you again. Not if I can help it."

"...And if you can't help it?"

"I'll learn."

I stammer, not knowing how to respond as my heart races. I clear my throat and look at the Inn's front door, gesturing for Zoro to come closer. He gives a dark smirk as he moves, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger.

"Shall we?"

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(A/n): dropping a part 3 cuz I can raaahhh

#zoro x reader #zoro fluff #zoro angst #black writers #x black reader #x black fem reader #black reader #opla zoro #zoro opla #one piece live action #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x black reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x black reader #one piece zoro #one piece

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Racing Hearts - Part 4 // Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: The first encounter with being in the public eye - and you're not to happy about it. But also: FIRST DAY ON THE PADDOCK!

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: Pure Fluff and some snuggling

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

A/N: So, we are on our first day on the paddock :) AND I'M SO EXCITED THAT IT'S RACEWEEKEND AGAIN! (not only in my story)

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional, and any character portrayals are just how I wrote them - hence fictional! I don't know them, except my OCs.

Tagging: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @bellewintersroe, @faithm120601, @needtokeepfeelingsincheck, @bbygrllllllll

After your wonderful date, you woke up with a big smile plastered on your face, but just as the day before, Sofia came jumping into your room.

"Holy sweet cheeks, you are already famous!" she exclaimed, and you looked at her confused.

"What the hell are you talking about, Sof?" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

Sofia took out her phone and held it into your face. "About this, silly. They wrote about you. In the news !!"

You took Sofia's phone and stared at the tabloid.

Love Afloat: Charles Leclerc's Yacht Romance with Mystery Blonde - Is Isabella Rossi History? Monaco's beloved racer, Charles Leclerc, was seen sharing an intimate moment on his yacht with a stunning unknown blonde beauty. The pair seemed to be in a world of their own as they exchanged a passionate kiss under the Mediterranean sun. But what about his long-term relationship with glamorous model Isabella Rossi? Have the winds of change blown a new love into Charles's life? Our exclusive sources reveal that the young couple's romance has hit the rocks, with whispers of tension and heated arguments. Could this encounter with the mysterious blonde be a sign of moving on? We can't help but wonder - is Charles Leclerc ready to sail away from the past and embrace a new adventure with this enchanting stranger? Stay tuned as we keep you updated on all the juicy details!

You sat up straight in your bed, reading the article. "What the fuck! What is this?"

Sofia cocked an eyebrow. "This, my dear, is called being in the spotlight."

"What? I mean... why?" you asked, giving Sofia back her phone.

"Because you, sweetie, are dating Charles Leclerc. That's why." Sofia lay down on your bed, looking through the article again.

"We're not dating. We're just..."

"Snuggling?"

You took your pillow and threw it at Sofia, who looked at you shocked, but then you two started laughing.

"Just ignore it, okay? They write about everything they can get their hands on", Sofia assured you and you thought about it. You tried not to let this get to you.

The days passed, and Charles and you spent a lot of time together. He showed you all his favorite spots and places you would've never seen as a normal tourist.

As Monaco race week approached, Charles had to focus on the race more and more, and he had less time to spend with you. At that time, he sent you random cute texts to let you know that he was thinking of you.

You felt like you were in a dream, watching from the sidelines as Charles worked hard to prepare for the race. You knew how important this was to him, but it was hard not to feel a little left behind.

You didn't take it too personally, as you spent the days with Sofia and, to your surprise, also with Lorenzo, who was with them a lot since the encounter at Jimmy'z.

One morning Sofia and you went shopping to get new clothes for the race, as the brunette stated. And by shopping, Sofia meant raiding her father's store, among others.

When you approached Starbucks for a coffee, you almost collided with someone, and as you looked up, it was no other than Isabella. Charles's ex.

She looked you up and down, clearly remembering you. "Well, would you look at that? This is the new one I told you about", she said to her posse, and they giggled.

"This? You're telling me that Charles is dating this?" her friend said, and you and Sofia exchange a gaze.

"Yes, apparently. But don't worry. As soon as he realizes that that isn't good enough for him, he will come crawling right back to me", Isabella said, giving you a dirty look.

Sofia snorted, amused. "Wow, you really are as conceited as I thought you would be." She stood closer to Isabella, since she was almost as tall as Isabella. "Let me tell you one thing, starveling, just stay away from my girl here, and it would be best if you would from Charles, too. He is with her now, and he is as happy as he can be."

Isabella lost her face for a millisecond before she smirked at Sofia. "And what if I don't?"

Sofia snorted again. "If I see you near Y/N, I'll promise you, you won't recognize your face in a mirror for a long time."

Isabella and Sofia gave each other an eye duel before Isabella turned around and walked away with her posse.

"You know, you don't have to defend me, right? I'm more than capable of doing that myself."

Sofia chuckled. "I know, but little Miss My-Daddy-paid-for-my-modeling-career doesn't need to know that for now, does she?"

You and Sofia looked at each other and then laughed. "You're right."

As you and Sofia walked through the bustling paddock during Monaco Raceweek, your excitement was palpable. The atmosphere was electrifying, with the sounds of engines and the energy of the racing world surrounding them. The VIP and Ferrari pass that Charles had given them made you feel both special and a bit nervous, being amidst all the action.

As you turned a corner, they spotted Pierre chatting with some of the team members near the Scuderia Ferrari garage. He was wearing his Alpine Shirt. You exchanged a quick glance with Sofia, who offered a reassuring smile.

Pierre turned and noticed the two familiar faces approaching him. His eyes widened in surprise, and then a warm grin spread across his face. "Well, well, look who we have here!" he exclaimed, giving you and Sofia a playful wink.

You smiled back, relieved by Pierre's friendly greeting. "Hey, Pierre! It's great to see you again."

Sofia chimed in, "We're so excited to be at the Monaco Grand Prix. This whole experience is unbelievable."

Pierre gestured towards the garage, his excitement evident. "Welcome to the heart of Formula 1, ladies. It's the most prestigious race of the season, and it's going to be one hell of a weekend."

As they chatted, you noticed Charles making his way toward you, and your heart fluttered with excitement. He looked dashing in his Ferrari team attire, and your smile grew even wider. Charles gave Pierre a nod of acknowledgment before his gaze locked onto yours.

"Hey," Charles said warmly, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "I see you've met Pierre again." He winked at his best friend, knowing well of your past playful banter.

You laughed, feeling more at ease with Pierre around. "Yes, and he's been showing us around the paddock. It's incredible!"

"Wait till you see the race," Charles said, a sparkle in his eyes. "It's going to be something else."

Pierre, ever the teasing friend, leaned in and grinned. "So, Charles, you didn't tell me you had such beautiful company joining us today."

Charles rolled his eyes but chuckled. "You know Y/N, and you know Sofia. They're here to enjoy the race."

Pierre raised his hands in mock defense. "I'm just saying, it's not every day we have two stunning ladies on the paddock."

Sofia laughed at the playful banter between the two friends while you blushed, feeling both flattered and a little bashful. You knew that Pierre was teasing, since you also knew that a lot of celebrities are attending the Formula 1 races, especially in Monaco.

As the day at the paddock drew to a close, it was time for you and Sofia to bid farewell to Pierre. You exchanged warm hugs and promises to catch up again soon. After Pierre left, Charles led them to the prestigious Ferrari motorhome, an exclusive area where the team members relaxed and strategized during the race weekend.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Charles said with a grin, gesturing toward the impressive motorhome.

You and Sofia stepped inside, your eyes widening in awe at the luxurious interior. Charles introduced you to some of the Ferrari team members, who greeted you warmly. Then, he led you to meet Carlos Sainz, his teammate.

"Hey, Carlos, these are some friends of mine, Y/N and Sofia," Charles said, smiling.

Carlos shook your hands with a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you both. I see Charles wanted you to have the supreme package."

You chuckled. "Oh, he's certainly not shy about it."

Sofia laughed, playfully nudging you. "And she's not shy about teasing him either. It's great to meet you, Carlos."

Carlos and Sofia seemed to hit it off immediately, engaging in lively conversation about the race, their experiences, and their interests outside of Formula 1. You couldn't help but smirk as you noticed the ease with which they connected.

Charles looked on, amused by the interaction between his teammate and Sofia. "Looks like you two are getting along well," he remarked.

Carlos nodded, grinning. "Yeah, Sofia is fun to talk to. You've got good taste in friends, Charles."

"Hey, I know," Charles replied with a playful wink, looking at you.

As the evening progressed, you and Sofia enjoyed spending time with the Ferrari team, soaking in the atmosphere of camaraderie and excitement. You were treated to a delicious snack and even got to see the team strategizing and preparing for the upcoming race.

As it was getting later, Charles walked up to you while Sofia was once again talking to Carlos.

"So... What do you say? Want to come over tonight?" he asked, and you looked at him a little surprised.

Before you could answer something, Sofia ran up to her. "OMG, Y/N, Carlos asked me out to dinner. You don't mind, do you?" she asked, and you looked at her.

"Of course not! Have fun!", you said and pushed Sofia in Carlos's direction. The two were talking and then said their goodbyes.

"So, does that mean you have time?" Charles asked, and you smiled.

"Apparently, I do."

Charles smiled and walked out of the paddock with you, leading you to his car. You were photographed as you left the paddock, and you tried to lower your head as best as you could. Charles led you to his car, and then you drove to his apartment.

As you entered, Charles put his things down and looked at you. "So, what do you wanna do?"

You smiled and looked around in his living room, especially at the big TV. You grinned at Charles, and he understood.

"Movie night it is", he smiled. He walked over to his room. "Do you want something more comfortable to wear?" he asked you from the bedroom.

"Oh, that would be great", you answered, and he stood in the door with some short sweatpants and a shirt. You took them and smiled at him.

"You can change in there. I'll put on something more comfortable as well", he said, pointing at the clothes in his hands as he made his way to the bathroom.

You went into his bedroom, changing into more comfortable clothes. You put her hair in a messy bun and decided to remove your makeup. Since you felt that comfortable with Charles, you didn't care.

As you stepped out of the bedroom again, Charles was already lighting some candles and his cozy living room, dimly lit by the soft glow of flickering candles strategically placed around the room. The evening sun has set, and the darkness outside is met with the warm ambiance inside.

Then you heard a popping coming from the kitchen when you smiled at Charles. "I see, you are prepared" you grinned, and he nodded.

"Hey, no movie without popcorn", he smiled, and then he realized that you were purely natural now, with no make-up and your hair in a messy bun. And he loved it.

He finished preparing the popcorn before hopping onto the couch and patting next to himself to invite you to sit with him. You smiled and sat down next to him as he spread a blanket over you.

"So, what movie should we watch?" Charles asked, looking at you with a playful grin.

Your face lit up with excitement, and you couldn't hide your enthusiasm for fantasy movies. "Oh, there are so many great ones to choose from! How about 'Lord of the Rings'? Or 'Harry Potter'? Or maybe 'The Chronicles of Narnia'?"

Charles chuckled, realizing that you had a vast selection of fantasy movies to choose from. "You really love your fantasy, don't you?" he teased.

You nodded eagerly, "Absolutely! I love the magical worlds and the epic adventures. It's like escaping to another realm."

Charles chuckled and looked at you with adoration, as you were already dipping into a different world. "Which one is your favorite?"

You looked at him, blushing. "Well, my all-time favorite is still Y/F/M, I guess", you said shyly, and he got up from the couch, and to your surprise, he put it in.

"Y/F/M it is", he said and sat back down.

You smiled warmly at him and then cuddled closer to him so that your bodies touched. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other so that when the movie was almost finished, Charles had his arm around your back, softly caressing the skin on your back, as your shirt slid up a little and you had your head on his chest and one leg over his, breathing in his scent.

As the movie night comes to an end, you and Charles find yourselves wrapped in each other's embrace, still feeling the excitement and emotions of the films you watched. The closeness you shared during the movie has intensified your feelings for each other, and the atmosphere in the room becomes charged with undeniable chemistry.

Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and you both feel the spark between you grow stronger. Your hands gently explore each other's bodies, and your hearts race with desire. However, amidst the passion, your voice breaks the moment.

"Charles," you whispers, your breath slightly uneven. "I... I'm not ready to take this step yet."

Charles stops immediately, understanding the importance of your words. He pulls back, looking into your eyes with genuine care and respect. "Y/N, I completely understand. We don't have to rush anything. I want to be with you, but only when you're ready."

You smiled gratefully, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You appreciated Charles's understanding and the fact that he respected your boundaries. "Thank you, Charles. I really care about you, and I don't want to ruin what we have by rushing things."

Charles caressed your cheek tenderly, "You won't ruin anything. I'm here for you, and I want to take things at your pace. We'll always communicate openly and honestly about what we're comfortable with."

You pushed yourself up a little and gave him another tender kiss. "You are just the perfect gentleman, aren't you?"

Charles chuckled. "What can I say? My Mom had some strong opinions when it came to her parenting."

You smiled. "And what about your dad?" You noticed an immediate shift in his demeanor, and your smile faded. "Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep."

"You didn't", Charles said softly, smiling at you with a sad smile. "It's just that my Dad died a few years ago. He was really sick and well..." Charles sighed. "He is the reason I am what I am now."

You looked at Charles and caressed his chest, comforting him. "I'm sorry about your Dad, Charles."

"It's okay... Well, it was hard, but we managed." He cleared his throat and pulled you a little closer. "What about your family? I never asked. How are they feeling about you, being gone for so long?"

You chuckled. "Well, I'm really close to my Mom. It was always us two against the world." You averted your gaze slightly and pressed your lips together. "My Dad... Well, let's just say he's gone for a long time."

Charles realized that you didn't want to talk about it further and accepted it. "So, do you wanna watch another one or head to bed?" he asked instead.

You looked at your phone for the time and then stood up slowly. You stretched out your hand to Charles to pull him to his feet. "Bed it is. You have a tough day tomorrow, Mr."

Charles laughed and stood up as well. You put out all the candles and the electronics before heading to bed. You snuggled up to Charles as he opened his arms warmly for you. You could hear his heartbeat and just felt comfortable.

As you lay in each other's arms, Charles took a deep breath, gathering the courage to ask the question that's been on his mind. He looked into your eyes, a mix of vulnerability and hope in his gaze.

"Y/N, I've been thinking a lot about us, about where this is going," he began softly. "And I know it's still early, but I can't help but wonder what you see for us in the future."

Your heart skipped a beat at his question, and you appreciated his willingness to discuss your relationship openly. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, wanting to be honest with him.

"I've been thinking about it too," you admitted, your voice steady. "And I have to be honest with you, Charles. When we started this whole thing, I wasn't looking for anything serious. I wasn't prepared for the way I'm feeling about you now."

Charles nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "I felt the same way, to be honest. I never expected to fall for someone that quickly, especially with my career and everything that comes with it. But being with you has changed everything, Y/N. You've become such an important part of my life."

You smiled softly, feeling a warmth in your heart. "You're important to me too, Charles. That's why I'm worried about how all of this will work out. Your career is incredible, and I don't want to be the reason you miss out on anything."

He took her hand, gently intertwining your fingers. "Y/N, you're not holding me back. I want to be with you, no matter what. Yes, my career can be demanding, and there will be challenges, but I believe we can face them together."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love in his gaze. "I want to be with you, too," you said softly. "But I'm just scared of how it might change things."

Charles nodded, understanding your fears. "It's natural to be scared, Y/N. But we don't have to figure it all out right now. Let's take it one step at a time, enjoy being together, and see where life takes us. And if at any point you feel overwhelmed or unsure, we'll talk about it, okay?"

Your heart swelled with love for this understanding man. "Okay," you replied, a small smile forming on your lips. "I'd like that."

He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Good, because I really care about you, Y/N. And I want to be there for you, no matter what."

You cuddled closer, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x Reader #Charles Leclerc Fanfic #Formula 1 x reader #Formula 1 #Charles Leclerc Romance #Formula 1 Romance #Ordinary x Celebrity #Celebrity relationship #Racing Hearts #Kim writes again

[echoing--stars]

Hello worm. For your prompts, maybe Wind trying to show off to Wars how he’s just as much a hero as him despite his age? It can be fluffy or angsty, you decide. Also bonus points if Wind discovers Wars enlisted early and starts calling him a hypocrite

This was an amazing idea! I wish I could write more for it, but I hit a wall of fatigue (thanks flu shot and covid booster cries) so this is all I got. Maybe I'll come back to it!

(If you read this and would like to request a short snippet, see this post!)

Wind was sick of being treated like a kid. He didn't get as many watches as everyone else and never the second watch. They'd stopped early when he'd complained about the walk — even though Legend had been complaining for an hour. He was stuck with guarding civilians while the others battled the monsters. And now Warriors was getting his arm stitched up by Sky after taking a hit meant for Wind. He bided his time, however. Wind was mad but he wasn’t mean. He waited until Sky was finished with the stitches and bandaged Warriors’ arm. And then waited until they’d moved away from the battlefield and made camp. Warriors stood and stretched, then grabbed his waterskin, saying he was going to the nearby stream. Wind grabbed his own waterskin and followed. Warriors didn’t acknowledge his presence, but Wind knew better than to think he hadn’t been noticed. He wasn’t exactly trying to be sneaky, but he’d long since learned to not startle the captain, especially after a battle. When Wind kneeled down next to Warriors to fill his water skin, Warriors turned to look at him. “How are you doing, Sailor?” Wind pulled his waterskin out and slammed the lid back on. He rocked back on his heels before standing up. “How am I doing? I should be asking you that.” Warriors sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. He stood up and stepped away from the water before turning to face Wind. “I’m fine. The cut was small and Sky took care of it.” “You took a hit meant for me.” Warriors froze for a moment, and his eyes met Wind’s. Like this, their height difference seemed greater than normal. “It—” “I’m not a kid, captain! I can fight my own fights! You don’t need to get injured to protect me.” “Sail—Link. That sword was heading for your back while you were engaged with another enemy. It was coming from your left, so you wouldn’t have been able to block it with your shield. I took a calculated risk to save your life.” Wind opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He’d known the enemy was there, had sensed the attack. But he hadn’t realized how dire it almost was. As much as he wanted to believe that he could have escaped the attack, he trusted Warriors’ battle experience to know what he was doing. “Okay fine. What about not letting me take second watch? And me taking fewer watches than everyone else?” Warriors tried to respond, but Wind cut him off. “Or putting me on guard duty while everyone else fought the monsters in Twilight’s world a few weeks ago?” Wind could feel the heat in his cheeks as he ranted. “I am just as much of a hero as anyone else. And I’m sick of being treated otherwise!” Wind took a deep breath. He spoke his final words soft and cold as a steel knife. “And one last thing. I overheard something the other day. That you lied about your age to enlist early. You’re such a hypocrite.” Warriors sighed and his shoulders fell slightly. It was as if he’d aged years just in the past few moments. Wind didn’t feel bad about it in the slightest. Warriors gestured to a fallen log a bit further away from the river. “Sit with me?” Wind huffed, but stomped his way over to the log and sat as far away from Warriors as he comfortably could.

“Link, I know you’re a hero. You’re amazing. Maybe even the best of all of us.” Warriors looked up to the sky where, the stars were just starting to come out. Wind scoffed. Fancy words with no substance behind them. “I’m serious!” Warriors said. “You’re the youngest of us, but your skill in battle rivals even the best fighters among us. You defeated Ganon and saved your world—” “Before you even joined the army,” Wind muttered and crossed his arms. “Exactly.” Warriors rubbed a hand over his eyes. “But that’s exactly why you should get to be a kid sometimes.” That made Wind pause. Warriors took the chance to carry on. “We all grew up too fast. Nearly all of us began our journeys before we reached adulthood. Some of us never stopped once we started, or at least not for many years.” Warriors expression was grim. It reminded Wind of the old man. “If I can give you — and all the younger heroes, for that matter — a chance to be a kid sometimes, I will take that chance. Over and over again.”

#worm writes #linked universe #lu fanfic #lu warriors #lu wind