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xpao-bearx · 1 year

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"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.

But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.

Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.

AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".

RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).

NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"

And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have ✨️6 PARTS✨️ This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!

Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun 😂

Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!

Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/

Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you

Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.

But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".

"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.

"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"

"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."

Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.

Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.

Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!

"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."

A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"

As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.

At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.

'She's so...'

'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.

'Amusing.' Jake snickered.

'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.

He adored you instantly.

♡•••🌙•••♡

It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.

From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.

Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.

You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.

You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.

Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.

'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.

Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.

'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.

'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'

Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.

You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.

"Steven? Are you okay?"

His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.

If only he actually meant it.

You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"

Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.

"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"

"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.

"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."

"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."

"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"

"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."

'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.

"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"

"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."

Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.

The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.

A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.

"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."

"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.

'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.

'Do WHAT?'

'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.

You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.

Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.

"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.

"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"

Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?

And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.

But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.

You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.

"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."

The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.

"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.

You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.

'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.

"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."

'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'

"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"

That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.

Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.

You won't be wearing any for long now.

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poweringthroughthis · 1 month

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birthday cake | lee sangyeon

nsfw, mature content, minors DNI!

ship: lee sangyeon x male reader

desc: (name) isn't a big fan of his birthdays, so his friends decide to cheer him up with a particularly handsome gift this year.

Birthdays are no easy feat for (name). Between corporate slavery, a horrendous economy and a dead love life, there really isn't much to celebrate. Well, maybe except for his friends. With New constantly reprimanding him for his bad decisions, Changmin being the sweetest guy ever, Juyeon raising his standards in men and Kevin teaching him all the naughty things of the world, (name) appreciated those little troublemakers deeply.

So, despite not being the biggest self-lover on birthdays, the male did expect his friends would, at the very least, come over to his place, watch horror movies and build pillow forts as they bitch about anyone and everyone. Being far away from family made (name) cherish the boys' efforts all the more.

However, with no one even replying to his texts, let alone showing up at his apartment, he was more than a bit confused. The male was just about to call New and demand the reason behind their sudden silence when the doorbell rang.

(name) was more than relieved to hear the chime and was quick to open the door, not wanting the person to ring it again. The man's mouth opened, a bright smile already on his lips but before any words could leave him, a cake was shoved into his face and his vision was obstructed by the sugary mess.

The male was still blinking in surprise when the candles were blown off and someone clapped happily, a voice exclaiming, "Happy birthday!"

(name) finally managed to pry the cake away from his eyes, looking at the group of four that stood before him. They were all holding gifts and smiling widely at him.

"You're here," he mumbled, not even bothering to hide the happiness in his voice.

"Of course," Kevin exclaimed, stepping inside the house and taking off his shoes. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"I'm surprised you guys are here, to be honest," the birthday boy mumbled, still wiping the icing from his eyes and nose.

"And why is that?" Changmin asked.

"You weren't answering your phones."

"Oh, those..." Juyeon mumbled, looking at the other three for a brief second before continuing. "We left them in the car. You know how the signal sucks here."

(name) nodded. He didn't believe a word of it. "And who brought the cake?"

"Me," the black-haired male replied. "You said you loved that cheesecake so I decided to surprise you."

"Thank you, Chanhee." (name) smiled.

"No problem, dude. Now let's go and open your gifts!"

"Yes, please. I have a present too and I've been dying to give it to you!" Juyeon added excitedly, pushing past his friends and into the house.

The others followed him, leaving their shoes at the door.

(name) was feeling like the happiest person alive. His friends came to visit, brought him gifts and baked a cake for him. They didn't have to, but they did it anyway.

Chanhee noticed (name) and gave him a small smile. "It was a pretty last minute decision. Sorry, we couldn't do better."

"I think this is already amazing," the male replied, mirroring the other's smile.

"Hey! Stop flirting and get your asses in here," Juyeon called out.

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "We should go and stop him before he does something stupid."

The younger one nodded, following his friend into the living room.

They did all that (name) had envisioned. Watching horror movies(The Amityville franchise this year), eating the cake Chanhee baked and talking smack. Like clockwork. The smile didn't leave (name)'s face the entire night. A few drinks in and the guys were still sober, but way more relaxed.

"Guys, I have to say something." (name) began, the boys turning around to look at him with fond smiles on their faces.

"Thank you. Thank you for doing this every year. And on days when it's not even my birthday. Life is a lot less shittier because I have you all."

Perhaps it was the soju talking, but (name) felt like he needed to make it known how grateful he was for his boys.

"Aww you cutie, c'mere.." Kevin cooed at the male, making kissy faces as he tackled him into a hug, the birthday boy yelling for him to get away.

"Ewww cringe!" Chanhee fake-gagged as he made a disgusted expression.

"Shut up, Chanhee. We know you're the biggest crybaby deep down" Changmin shushed him.

"I think it's time to give you your gift," Juyeon whispered into (name)'s ear, his hot breath sending shivers down (name)'s spine.

"O-okay."

Juyeon smiled, standing up and walking towards the door, leaving (name) confused. Why didn't Juyeon bring the gift inside with him initially? He glanced over at the others who were looking into space, avoiding his gaze. Alert number 1.

"I swear to god y'all if this is something stupid like last ti-"

"Hello."

(name) stopped dead in his tracks as a deep, matured voice interrupted him. He turned around to see: Lee Sangyeon. His very attractive, very charming and very well-spoken neighbor, though (name) had barely exchanged anything past normal greetings with the man.

"So, remember how we were late? We were hastily searching for a good gift shop as the old one recently closed, and ran into this guy who was kind enough to help us navigate to a new one. Guess who it was?" Juyeon explained the last bit in a sing-song voice. "Exactly! Sangyeon hyung."

"And when we left for the same way, we talked a little more and realized he's your neighbor! What a small world." Changmin added.

Hyung? Damn Juyeon and his extroverted nature. And yes, Changmin, (name) is well aware of his hot neighbor. Thank yew. He's been purposely treading carefully around him in order to NOT make a fool of himself, which you've kinda defeated the whole point of?!

"Happy birthday! I hope you don't mind me. I was free and your friends insisted I join." Sangyeon offered a charming grin.

"Thank you. And ,N-no, no, not at all! I don't mind. Please, feel free to join anytime you'd like. I mean-" (name) rambled.

"Oh boy. I knew he was gonna shit himself" New sighed.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. It's kinda cute. YOU'RE kinda cute." Sangyeon chuckled, and if the sound of it didn't send an electric jolt down (name)'s spine.

"So are we done yet or..?" Kevin yawned, leaning onto the couch. Everyone scurried off back to their places in the living room, continuing the movie they'd paused to drink. For a while, the boys made small talk with Sangyeon, (name) getting to know the man better. As time passed, they all became increasingly sleepy, but (name) and Sangyeon hardly ceased talking to each other, now cuddled up with each other. They clicked rather well.

"So, I think there's one last gift left. For both of you." Chanhee smirked.

"I agree," Sangyeon whispered.

Before (name) could blink, he was pulled into a warm embrace and his lips met Sangyeon's. It was gentle, yet firm, and (name) felt like he could die and be satisfied. The latter tasted of sweet wine, and the older's scent filled his senses as he pulled him closer, a soft sigh escaping him. Sangyeon's lips were soft and warm, and his tongue moved confidently against his own, making (name)'s toes curl.

As Sangyeon pulled back, a smile appeared on his face. (name) had been crushing over him for 2 weeks now. So is it safe to assume his feelings are somewhat reciprocated?

"How was that?" Sangyeon asked, his fingers stroking (name)'s hair.

"Amazing.." the latter breathed.

"I'm glad." The elder smiled, a soft chuckle escaping him. "Well, I hope you had a good birthday."

"Yes, and I have you to thank for it."

"Then perhaps we should do this again?"

"Definitely."

And (name) was sure his heart was about to burst with joy.

"Ahem."

New's voice caught their attention.

"Sorry for the interruption but it's getting late and we should leave," he announced, gesturing at the other 3 who were already gathering their belongings.

"Alright. You guys have fun and behave yourselves." Kevin grinned, bidding them a goodbye.

(name)'s eyes widened. "Yeah, bye Kevin!" he offered a tight-lipped smile, mouthing "I.will.Kill.You", knowing fully well it must have been the Canadian's idea to pull this stunt. "You needed this babe" Kevin whispered in the other's ear. "Thank me later", he left after blowing (name) a kiss, Chanhee and Changmin dragging him.

"Sangyeon, we hope we can see you around soon." Juyeon said.

"Definitely."

The birthday boy's eyes met with Sangyeon's, and (name) didn't miss the way the man's pupils dilated. He wasn't alone in his feelings.

"Happy birthday, again." The eldest of the 4 leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on (name)'s cheek, the gesture sending warmth throughout his body.

The moment the 4 left, (name) plopped onto the couch, still dazed from what had transpired.

"They really thought of everything."

"It seems so."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes, very."

"Good, that's what matters."

"Can I...can I kiss you again?"

"Of course."

Sangyeon cupped his cheeks, bringing their lips together. It was gentle and slow, yet there was a hint of hunger behind it.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," Sangyeon admitted, his thumb brushing over (name)'s bottom lip.

"So have I."

"That's good to know."

The eldest captured (name)'s lips again, this time with more urgency. He sucked on his bottom lip, drawing a low moan from him. The sound spurred Sangyeon on, and his tongue slipped into the younger's mouth, eliciting another moan.

"I'm not quite finished yet. There are many other things I'd like to do to you."

"Such as?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

The next thing (name) knew, he was being lifted up, the male's legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Sangyeon carried him to his room, and the two fell onto the bed in a heap of tangled limbs. Their lips met again, the kiss becoming more passionate and urgent.

"Do you want me to keep going?" Sangyeon whispered against his lips, his fingers brushing the younger's cheek.

"Yes, please," (name) whined.

The older one wasted no time and started undressing the male beneath him. After he had stripped him down, the two kissed some more, their hands roaming each other's bodies.

"I'm going to make you feel good," Sangyeon breathed against his ear, his fingers trailing down his abdomen, causing him to shiver.

(name)'s eyes widened as the elder stood up and stripped down his lower half, his thick member on full display. The birthday boy swallowed nervously, his cock throbbing at the sight.

"You're already so hard." (name) breathed.

The latter was about to apologize, but his words were caught in his throat when he felt a wet heat envelope his length. He couldn't hold back a moan as he threw his head back.

(name) continued to suck on his length, eliciting a chorus of moans from the elder.

After a few minutes, Sangyeon hurriedly pulled (name)'s mouth away, biting his lips to stop himself from cumming.

"Mmh, I think you're ready," Sangyeon mumbled, and (name) let go of his member, wiping his mouth with his hand.

He reached the hem of the birthday boy's underwear, tugging it down. The cool air of the room caused the latter's member to twitch, and Sangyeon smiled. He laid (name) down face first on the bed, spread out. Kneeling between the younger's legs, he leaned down and spread his ass cheeks apart using his hands, licking his lips at the sight of the male's pink, puckered hole.

(name) gasped as he felt the wet heat of the elder's tongue circling his entrance. He gripped the sheets tightly as he felt the sensation of being stretched.

The younger male could only moan in response, the feeling of being penetrated by the elder's tongue was intoxicating. He could feel his orgasm approaching, and he arched his back, pressing his hips against Sangyeon's face.

"It's your birthday, but i'm the one eating the cake," the elder chuckled, and (name) whimpered, feeling the latter's tongue slide in deeper.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Sangyeon continued to fuck (name) with his tongue, and the younger male couldn't help but cry out in pleasure.

"I-I'm gonna cum," (name) whined.

"Go ahead, baby," the elder encouraged, and the younger male could only gasp and shudder as his orgasm ripped through him.

Sangyeon sat up and grabbed the bottle of lube on the bedside table. He squirted a generous amount onto his palm and spread it over his length.

"Ready, baby?"

"Yes, please," (name) nodded, spreading his legs wider.

Sangyeon lined himself up with the younger's entrance and pushed inside, eliciting a loud moan from the younger.

"F-fuck, you're so tight," the elder moaned, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Feels so good," (name) panted.

The elder started to thrust in and out of the younger male, and the latter could only moan in response.

"You feel so good around me," Sangyeon moaned, and (name) could only whine in response, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

The older one leaned over, capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

The elder started thrusting faster, the sound of their skin slapping filling the room.

"Fuck, I'm close," the elder moaned, his eyes screwed shut.

"M-me too," (name) gasped.

Sangyeon gripped the younger's hips tighter and increased his pace, causing the latter to moan loudly.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," the elder growled, and he spilled inside the birthday boy.

"Holy shit," (name) breathed, his orgasm rippling through him.

The elder pulled out, the latter's cum coating the tip of his cock.

"Happy birthday to you," Sangyeon breathed, leaning down to kiss the birthday boy.

(name) sighed contently. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Making my birthday special."

"I'll make every birthday special, if you'll let me," the elder smiled, and the two kissed once more.

When the 4 were far away, New's voice broke the silence.

"Hey Juyeon.."

"Yes?"

"Do you think he'll actually thank us for setting him up with his crush?"

"Probably not.." Juyeon answered.

"Should we start running?"

"Yup."

"We're doomed."

"Well, it was worth it."

"Definitely."

"Happy Birthday, (name)." Kevin yelled into the night, wishing nothing but happiness for their friend, as the 4 walked home.

#kpop male idol #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #male idol x male reader #tbz x male reader #the boyz x male reader #the boyz x male reader smut #tbz x male reader smut #sangyeon x male reader #sangyeon x male reader smut #male reader insert #x male reader

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bratbby333 · 2 months

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the jjk men + ur birthday

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

blurb/brain dump

fluff version/sfw,, smutty version coming next

feat: gojo, geto, nanami, megumi, toji, yuuji

author notes: this idea 100% came abt bc my birthday’s in two weeks n i can’t help but gift this to myself

-gojo

Satoru is 1000% the type to over do it in the most endearing way possible. The celebration of you starts a week before your actual birthday. Stuffies, balloons, cupcakes, a lengthy, heartfelt card spilling his guts to you about how much you’ve changed his life. He’s even the type to book an expensive getaway for just the two of you after throwing you a surprise dinner party with all your friends.

“Your bags already packed. We leave for the airport in an hour” he says, brimming with joy.

He teases you about getting older, and you joyfully get to remind him that at least you’re still younger than him ((he pouts and huffs at this, of course)).

-geto

A deeply romantic man. Showering you in kind words and lingering touches of affection.

Suguru’s deeply intuitive and is most definitely the type of boyfriend to gather things you say you like throughout the year and secretly compile them in a basket to present to you on your birthday. He’s so sneaky with it that you have no idea it’s coming even though you two live together (where tf did he hide it??).

He’s so thoughtful and giving, it’s no surprise that he treats you extra special on your birthday. A bouquet of your favorite flowers, a reservation at your favorite restaurant, tickets to a movie you’ve been dying to see, walks in the park (stopping at your favorite café on the way there). He is just so deeply enamored by you and wants nothing more than to see your face light up when doing the things you love.

-nanami

Stoic and serious Nanami worships you each and every day. You opened his heart in ways he didn’t know existed, so he can’t help but reward you any chance he gets. You didn’t think he could ever out do himself, but each time your birthday comes around you are proven wrong.

Hefty bouquets of your favorite flowers adorn your kitchen, living room, and bedroom, different handwritten cards sitting against the various flower vases. For a man of such well thought out and analytically chosen words, he sure finds as many as he can to describe to you in detail how much you mean to him and how much he loves you.

He makes reservations at your favorite restaurant and takes you shopping to find an outfit for your dinner date, amongst other things-jewelry, bags, shoes, etc. He just absolutely spoils you.

-megumi

Even after a year of being together, Megumi still struggles to put his big feelings into the right words. He’d rather show you through acts of service than to say it directly to you. And you appreciate each and every thing he does for you.

The week leading up to your birthday, he takes over all the maintenance around the house; cooking for you every night, doing all the laundry, etc.

“I don’t want you to lift a finger leading up to your special day”

He takes you to get your hair done, your nails done, shopping…any sort of self care services that you want. He just loves being around you, even if a lot of the times, he may not be able to find the right words to say (you’re the only person he enjoys being around for extended periods of time) and he wants you to feel loved and pampered and beautiful on your birthday, even more so than you already are to him.

He cherishes the way you love him, and the man you’re turning him into, even if it scares him a little.

-toji

Violently nonchalant and seemingly uninterested in most people (I see where Meg gets it from), that part of Toji’s personality does a 180 when he’s around you.

Even though he hates being away from you, Toji takes on extra assignments in the weeks leading up to your birthday so he can make sure that he pampers you like there’s no tomorrow. You are not paying for a thing when he takes you out to celebrate your day.

And even though your celebration wasn’t as extravagant as it couldve been, you know the real party happens in the bedroom. Awoooga.

-yuuji

“Y/N!! Look what I got you!!” Yuuji grins wide.

“Happy birthday to the most amazing girlfriend ever!!” He beams, outstretched arms presenting you with three boxes in various sizes, wrapped neatly in birthday-esq wrapping paper (nobara must’ve helped with the wrap job).

Your eyes light up, giggling before looking at him.

“Yuuji, I appreciate and love you so very much. But, you do know my birthday is actually tomorrow, right?”

“Yes..duh! But I couldn’t wait. There’s more coming tomorrow, too!!” He replies, seemly more excited for your birthday than you are. Your heart melts at his never ending supply of enthusiasm.

He hugs you tightly and peppers your face with kisses.

The two of you spend the night before your birthday in the house, ordering food and binge watching movies until the sun comes up. And of course he has to be the first one to wish you an official happy birthday, right at midnight.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro toji #itadori yuuji #bratbby333

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bite-sized-devil · 1 year

Text

Piggy Back Rides

You've had a particularly long hard day at RAD. Exhausted and dreading the walk home, you ask your favourite demon brother for a little favour.

Was going to do these in groups, but they just kept getting longer and longer. Apologies my fellow simps, please enjoy them one at a time starting with the eldest and finishing with the youngest.

TW: None, this is just fluff. GN! MC.

Lucifer

Text chain:

MC: Can I ask a favour? 🥺

Lucifer: Depends, what is it you need?

MC: I'm so tired from today, could you give me a piggy back ride home?

Lucifer: Of course.

MC: Really? Just like that?

Lucifer: Yes, where are you?

MC: 😭 Thank you! Sitting on the stairs out the front of the building. ❤️

Smiling into his screen he gets up from his desk, the papers he was working on can wait until tomorrow. He'd rather come to your aid, he loves it when you need him. Especially for little things such as this. You are usually so self sufficient, a stark comparison compared to his brothers. Always so appreciative even when its something trivial like asking for a piggy back ride home.

He arrives moments later, seeing you slumped on the stairs with your head resting on your knees. Stopping in front of you he reaches out and gently rests his hand on your head, running it through the hair around your face when you lift your head to look up at him.

You might say you're tired, but you still look as radiant as ever when you bless him with a sweet smile.

"Ready to go love?" He says as he returns your smile.

"Mmn." You say as you nod your head once and slowly stand, reaching for your bag as you do. Lucifer is having none of that, if he's giving you a piggy back back to HOL he's carrying your bag too.

Slinging your bag over his shoulder before turning around and beckoning you to hop on. You put your hands on his shoulders before jumping up, pressing your thighs to his hips. His hands come up and grasp the soft skin behind your knees. Looping your hands loosely around his collar bone you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you Lucifer." You say softly before kissing his neck sweetly. His grip on your legs tightens momentarily before relaxing back into his original hold.

"You're welcome MC, I'm always here for you." He says as he turns his head to gift you with a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You spend the rest of the trip home listening to Lucifer talk about his day, to tired to talk about yours. More than happy to listen to the eldest's commentary on his younger brothers antics. With your chin rested on his shoulder and your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

Before long you feel yourself drifting off, the rhythm of Lucifer's long strides, and gentle voice lulling you to sleep. You wake up later to find yourself asleep in Lucifer's bed, your shoes & coat taken off and carefully placed at the foot of the bed. You roll over to find him sitting up in bed beside you, he smiles down at you through his glasses.

"Go back to sleep MC, I'll wake you later when dinner is ready" he says as he pushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. You nod slowly before curling up to his side and closing your eyes. His hand remains on your head, absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair as you fall back to sleep.

Likes, comments, reblogs appreciated. Please do not repost. If you would like to be added to the tag list please fill out this form

#obey me #obey me!#obey me shall we date #om!#obey me fandom #obey me mc #om! shall we date #om! mc #obey me lucifer #obey me! lucifer #om! lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x you #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me fluff #obey me fanfic #obey me brothers #saadie's fics 🌻

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quoththemaiden · 1 month

Text

The final chapter of @mrghostrat's Big Name Feelings Good Omens AU is dropping tomorrow, so obviously there was no way I could resist writing another fanscene. (Previous scene 1, 2, 3) Inspired by the sheer domesticity of chapters 15 and 16, enjoy this end-of-series scene.

—

Crowley's key fumbled against the lock — still Aziraphale's lock, technically, but very firmly Crowley's key. "Dinner was good, though?"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes a little at how much more attention his face was getting than the keyhole. Sherlock Holmes might have blamed the wine they shared at dinner for the scratches around the lock, but Aziraphale knew better. "It was delicious, of course. You should know; you were there."

"Nnyeah, well, it's your opinion I care about." As if that weren't obvious from Crowley having gotten them a table at one of the city's best restaurants on Valentine's Day and insisting on not even letting him see the bill.

As if Aziraphale was ever any good at hiding his appreciation of good food.

"Quite sure," Aziraphale replied with a gentle touch on Crowley's arm that swiftly turned into snagging the key from him to open the door himself. Crowley let out a huffy laugh as he followed him inside. "Tea?"

"Sure, if that goes with whatever we're doing next." Crowley had been trying to wheedle Aziraphale's planned gift out of him for the past two weeks, and Aziraphale had remained utterly firm in not sharing it with him. Crowley insisted that whatever Aziraphale planned would be alright with him so there was no reason for Aziraphale to be shy about it, and Aziraphale had said "I know, dearest," and somehow that's as far as Crowley's attempts at learning Aziraphale's plans ever got.

Aziraphale fussed around with the tea and put on some music — old-fashioned stuff on actual CDs, the sap — and Crowley was left to lean against the doorjamb watching him and coming to terms with being so terribly, completely besotted that their evening plans could be "absolutely nothing" and Crowley wouldn't love it a single speck less. Aziraphale had said that he'd always thought of Valentine's Day as just another day, and that he'd certainly never considered that he might be able to celebrate it publicly, so Crowley was already delighted at having coaxed him out to dinner. Crowley found himself very suddenly aware that if Aziraphale's supposed plans amounted to nothing at all, he honestly wouldn't mind. His fifteen-year-old self would eat him alive if he knew, and Crowley felt warm inside to know that that was his younger self's loss.

Crowley blinked out of his reverie in time to help Aziraphale carry the teacups into the living room, and was almost surprised when Aziraphale brought a bag in with him as he followed. "Whazzat?"

"Painting supplies, dear." Aziraphale set the bag down on the coffee table.

Another point in favor of another evening spent doing nothing unusual. Crowley relaxed back into the couch, wondering if his melting heart could leave stains on the fabric. "What're you gonna paint?"

"You!" Par for the course again, then. Aziraphale gave a happy wriggle. "I hope you aren't ticklish!"

Wait, what?

"Uh?" Crowley picked up one of the paints Aziraphale was setting out and found that the label said, quite clearly, "body safe." "Angel?"

Aziraphale looked at him with a smile that said he was still 100% confident in his plan despite Crowley's confusion. "I thought it might be a nice reminder of the con. Getting an airbrush and making stencils didn't seem sensible, really, but I know how to use a brush well enough."

Crowley let out a breathy laugh. "'Well enough' 's an understatement. Geez, now MY gift feels—"

"—completely, perfectly tailored to me," Aziraphale cut in. "I would have been actually cross if you'd insisted on getting me another sword." Crowley laughed again, and it warmed Aziraphale's heart that he'd seemed to do nothing but laugh all night. Aziraphale patted Crowley's hand before picking up his tea, taking an appreciative sip and willing it to calm the excited fluttering in his chest. "What do you think? Another serpent on your cheek? I was thinking a tree would look rather lovely spread across your spine and shoulder blades..."

Crowley shivered a little at that, easily able to picture Aziraphale straddling his hips as he lay on the bed, Aziraphale's left palm spread flat on his back to keep himself steady with the rise and falls of Crowley's breath, his paintbrush tenderly tracing a line along his spine...

"Snake first," he agreed quickly. "And then..." He looked down on Aziraphale's arms and swallowed. "Think you could paint on your own arm? I could help hold things steady for you."

"Oh," Aziraphale breathed, and Crowley's heart clenched in the best of ways. He had no idea how Aziraphale always managed to say that like he was falling in love all over again, time and time again, but he did.

No, that wasn't quite right. Crowley probably did know. He suspected it came from the same place as the way he'd looked at Aziraphale as he helped him out of the car today. Aziraphale had taken his arm without hesitation and looked up at him with a warmer smile than any mortal had ever earned, and Crowley had been certain he was wearing his own heart on his sleeve, his vest, and every other garment he owned.

He adored him, and somehow, ineffably, it was the smallest moments that made it stand out the most.

"...right," Aziraphale managed to say around the happy tightness in his throat. "Some art for the both of us, then."

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #bnf au #fanfiction of fanfiction #my writing #absolutely amazing fic bilvy #you should be proud!!

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tinfairies · 2 years

Note

no thoughts, head empty, only fucking aegon and aemond at the same time

Aegon Targaryen x Fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Content warning: Smut. There is no incest but two brothers actively have sex with the same woman so take that as you will

It wasn't you're fault they both fell for you. It was very much theirs.

Both Aegon and Aemond could have practiced self restraint. But no, they wanted you.

The two fought about it frequently, you had been showered in more gifts, luxuries and wealth than you would ever need in your lifetime.

Both wanted your affections, one often watched as the other would dance with you at parties before stealing you away for a dance of their own.

Aegon was the one who got physical with you first, of course he was. He shamelessly kissed you and groped your body. Aemond would tense up, seething rage filling his body.

In return Aemond left marks on your body, branding you as a way to show his brother you were his.

This fighting was back and forth for months, you had already had sex with both many times and yet their jealousy of one another never subsided.

Now, the three of you were in the library, Aemond had asked you to read with him and Aegon intruded on the date. Waltzing in and sitting right next to you throwing an arm around your shoulders.

Aemond sat on your other side, dodging his brothers arm as it separated him from you. He sighed and slammed his book shut. You looked between both of them, the men staring each other down.

Aegon smirked and moved to kiss you, cupping your face with one hand and using the one around your shoulder to grope at your tit. Aemond shifted in his seat, then started kissing at your neck. If it's a competition his brother wants then a competition he will get.

You would moan at the sensation of being touched by both men. Aegon uses his tongue to pry your lips apart and lick at your tongue, then pulls away slightly. "So sweet, brother you should taste these lips." he then pushed you back towards Aemond. Your back hit his chest, the younger prince tilted your head to kiss you.

You moaned into Aemond's mouth and reached your hand up to rest on his jaw, you suddenly felt Aegon lifting your skirts. Squealing, you tried to push them back down. "Don't act like I haven't seen your cunt a thousand times." Aegon pushed the skirts back up.

Aemond continued to kiss you, doing as his brother had and rubbing your tongues together. His hands moved down to grope your tits, you shifted to give him a better angle.

Aegon was kissing up your thighs, biting every now and then. Finally getting to your cunt, he buried his face between your legs and began his assault on your clit.

You moaned once more and Aemond moved his hands to start undoing your bodice. Making quick work of the ties, he pulled the top away from you.

Your nightshift was sheer and your nipples were already hard from Aemond's touch. He went back to kissing you, and groping at you, this time pinching at your nipples. The feeling of the princes both pleasing you was enamoring. Aegon licked up and down your folds before lifting his head again, chin wet with slick and spit.

He licked his lips "Do you want her mouth or cunt?" he was talking to Aemond. The younger prince scoffed, "She's not a whore, let her pick." they both looked to you now.

You stuttered face getting redder. "I want Aemond to fuck my cunt, and you to fuck my mouth." you said to Aegon. He smirked and sat on the couch again, undoing his pants.

You turned back to Aemond who suddenly moved you on your hands and knees on the couch. You gasped at his forwardness, face pressing into Aegon's thigh. Aemond lifted your skirts and got a good look at your pink little cunt.

Aegon finally got his cock out and stroked it, he was half hard and staring down at you expectantly. You moved to wrap your hand around the base and started pumping before placing your mouth over his weeping tip. He let out a hum of appreciation.

You could hear Aemond make quick work of the ties on his pants, and then felt his cock push against your cunt. You moaned at the feeling, sending vibrations through Aegon's cock.

The older man grabbed at your hair, pushing you down on him. His cock hit the back of your throat and you gagged.

"Is this how you always treat her?" Aemond scoffed.

"She likes it, huh whore?"

You moaned again in response. Aemond continued to grind against your cunt, not yet pushing himself in. He loved to tease.

You wiggled your ass against him and he slapped it in response. "You never acted like a common whore before. I think Aegon is poisoning you."

It's true you were always a good little girl for Aemond, and bratty whore for Aegon.

The younger prince finally pushed his cock into your hot cunt, he let out an exasperated moan.

"So tight."

Aemond set a steady pace, making Aegon's cock go further down your throat. The sounds that filled the library were nothing short of pornographic, wet squelching gagging and moaning. Aegon thrust his hips up, he was getting close.

Aemond started moving his hips faster, using your skirts to pull your ass back onto him.

Finally Aegon came down her throat, white hot cum spilling at the corners of her mouth. She immediately started cleaning his cock with her tongue when he pulled her off him.

"Already? No wonder she comes to me after you've disappointed her." Aemond sneered.

"Oh she's just sloppy seconds at that point." Aegon watched his brother pound into you.

Aemond felt your cunt squeezing around him, you were close. He dipped a hand below your skirt and started to rub your clit. You whimpered, the feeling of him hitting your sweet spot and rubbing your clit had lighting striking across your body.

His pace picked up some more and his groans got louder. "Mm Aemond." you moaned his name. Aegon brushed his fingers through your hair as he continued to watch the show in front of him.

"Fuck." Aemond swore, he was on the presuppose of orgasm. You moved your hips with his as he finally came, filling your cunt to brim with his seed. He pulled out and let the cum drip onto the couch.

The three of you were sweating, breathless and completely numb. Aegon blew air out in a sigh.

"So, have you made a choice?"

#house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #game of thrones headcanons #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #Game of thrones x reader #got imagine #got x reader #got headcanons #Smut

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sweetwolfcupcake · 15 days

Text

Wildflower: 05

The Secret Garden

John Wick x Reader

Category: Short Series

Warning: Physical attack, actual violence and allusion to violence and brutality and concussion

Note: John is relatively younger in this fic( late thirties to early forties)

Thank you @scarlettspectra for making such amazing GIFs.

Unedited

Wildflower 04

With all the commotion in her life– discovering her mother’s letter, moving to New York after a harrowing confrontation with her father that would fester life-long resentments (or at least a decade-long?) discovering that her mother was no more, getting used to the city and its pace— (Y/N) had come to appreciate the quieter aspects of life more than ever– the lazy days, the quiet mornings at a park, or a morning bicycle ride.

But perhaps, she should have known…It was not her quiet little town, it was New York City. She had barely paid attention to the quiet rustling of approaching footsteps. She was dumb enough to not even register the barrel of the gun until the cold metal was pressing against the back of her neck.

“Don’t you fucking move bitch! Han–me your wallet.” The voice was heavy and slightly slurred.

She froze— all the self-defence videos she spent watching after arriving in New York evaporated and she stilled as the reality of the situation bucketed down on her like painful, jagged ice. She whimpered when he pressed the metal roughly against her skull, the coldness dug into her and she knew that it would become a scar at the back of her mind if she made it out alive.

“Didn’t you hear me bitch!” he hissed, shoving the gun harder against her skull, it bumped harshly, making her hiss.

“Okay, okay–” As she tried to get up, she was shoved down, falling on her stomach.

Her knees were bruised, but with the adrenaline urge, she could hardly register the pain against the fear and her heartbeat thundering against her chest– she could even feel it in her head. She whimpered when she felt his footsteps nearing before a rough hand grabbed her hair.

“Don’t play smart with me— I’ll empty this fucking gun in your dense head.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please just—don’t hurt me!” She felt tears gathering in the corner of her eyes– one blink and her cheeks were dampening.

Her hands shook as she pulled out her wallet and handed it to him, not even considering playing smart.

She turned to look at the man but he tugged her hair harshly, keeping her still.

“And the ring too!”

Her eyes widened at the demand.

“N–No, No, I can't give you that–please!”

She screamed when he yanked her hair, her scalp burned as fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she shivered when he snatched her hand that had the ring. Roughly taking it off her finger. Her mother’s ring, her mother’s last gift to her.

No! No, she couldn't let it go!

“No! Give me back my ring— it—” She turned around as soon as he let go of her hair. But her protests were cut short with the back of the gun striking the side of her head.

—--

It hurt. That was what she registered first before her waking mind began to register the quietness. There was a beep, but it felt like it was somewhere far– consistent though, and the longer she heard it, the closer it came, speeding up, slowing? No, speeding, no, nothing changed.

She felt her eyelids moving as her mind became more coherent. Opening her eyes was a task— but she managed— it was just one blink first, nothing decipherable. But as she blinked again, she saw something move. A black mass– no, a looming form raising up— it seemed all black. In silence, it stood up and walked out of her sight. She wanted to move her head but it was too heavy to move. Every attempt to move it was rewarded with a deep, encompassing ache originating from the side of her head and spreading all over her skull. It made her whimper.

Was it the sound of shutting the door she heard?

She was not sure anymore, instead, she sank back, relaxing on the fluffy surface– a pillow– right, it was soft and good, and she could go back to sleep.

—--

It felt like she had slept only for a minute more when she woke up again. Much more coherent this time. Registering the beeping monitor and the IV. A bit over the top for concussion. Right, she was hit on the head after she tried to save her mother’s ring from the robber.

Could not even see that rat’s face.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. That was so unlike her– calling somone names. But at the same time, it was, for the first time in months that she felt any other intense emotion than grief or resentment. There was a numbness that had gripped her, paralysed her, closed her heart to feeling anything– life went by just as it was, and she felt on autopilot.

But the moment her mother’s ring was snatched, it was like a bucket of ice was thrown at her, breaking her out of the numbness, the void.

She had a purpose— she wanted to go on, and she was willing to go on and live because her mother would have wanted the same. Her mother who loved her, adored her so much and left so many unanswered questions behind. Questions she probably would never get answers to.

But now, the ring was gone and she was looking up to a white hospital ceiling, the room smelt fresh but with a hint of that same old ‘medical’ smell and assessing the private room she was in— it was going to burn a hole in her pocket.

“How are you feeling now?”

Oh, there was a nurse in there too, adjusting her IV. Her vision was a bit floaty. She blinked and cleared her parched throat.

“I’m… I’m feeling–weird?”

She smiled at (Y/N)’s slow, blinking eyes.

“Concussion, honey. You’re lucky the kind man found you and brought you here. Oh, yes, your things are kept by the bed, check them out and report if something’s missing, hm?” With that, she pressed the button to bend up the upper half of the bed, making her able to sit up slightly.

“Th–thank you… the man’s around? I can thank him.” (Y/N)’s voice was scratchy and her speech came with a bit of effort, but at least the pain was reduced to a dull throbbing.

“I’m afraid he’s gone. He was there in your room an hour ago. Went away after alerting us that you’re waking up.”

(Y/N) frowned. So, she was not dreaming. She sighed and leaned back, the pillow was big and soft. Slowly, she turned her head to the side, trying to focus on the table by her bed.

She blinked as the gleaming object caught her eyes. The sunlight fell just at the right angle as if presenting it to her, ushering her to pick it up.

Her mother’s ring!

It was her mother’s ring placed on the table. Her movements felt a bit disoriented and slow but she managed to reach out to it and pick it up.

“Oh, mother…Thank you— Thank you to whoever returned this.” She whispered, kissing the ring as tears escaped her eyes.

“Everything good?” The concerned nurse asked.

(Y/N) looked up and nodded her head. If she spoke, she would cry. Assessing her quickly one last time, the nurse left after informing her that the doctor would come to check on her after lunch.

Well, that would be added to the fat bill, won’t it?

But for now, she realised she was starving, and some overpriced food was all she could have for now, so, she would settle with that. The doctor came after lunch, and she asked about the billing process and insurance.

Only to find that all her bills were paid— she would be discharged the next day– a bit of a stretch– but her vision was still floaty and moving too fast was a task.

The kind stranger also paid the bills? Food and medicines covered?

What was he, an angel?

Or was she dreaming?

When she tried to get to the name, there was surprisingly nothing. Nothing in the sense that the doctor refused to disclose.

Strange.

So, things had magically turned out to be…good?

It was unbelievable but she had her mother’s ring on her finger, the bills were paid and… and she had a private room. With a TV.

All that was left was to inform her superiors regarding her situation. And maybe her family?

She contemplated the latter. She had not spoken to him for more than five minutes on the phone. The texts were–one-worded and with the stubbornness rooted in their family, she knew that it would take time for either of them to thaw.

She sighed and reached for the TV remote. Maybe she would think through things with a clearer head. She adjusted her vision, trying to focus on the TV screen that seemed to annoyingly blur. She shouldn’t be watching TV, but she was stubborn and certified stupid so…

Flicking through the channels mindlessly, she stopped right at an address. A park near her home—wait, it was the same park she was at when she was robbed! It was the park she would go to often to watch the sunrise.

She squinted her eyes, trying to focus on the headlines. There was a dull throbbing in her head intensified, but she could barely pay attention to that. Was she reading right? The face was the same, the one who robbed her.

He was…hospitalised?

For broken ribs, teeth and well some other broken bones.

Apparently, he had mugged many before, but the police could never catch him— or maybe they never bothered.

Why would they, it wasn’t a murder yet.

She rolled her eyes at the thought.

But now, he was at a hospital, and once discharged, he would be shoved behind bars. It was only a brief headline before the news ultimately turned to politics. She switched the electronic off and leaned down, trying to relax, and not think too much.

But all she could think of was the chain of events. It now felt surreal almost. She thought she was almost dead, but there she was, safe, comfortable— the most comfortable she could be with a concussion and in a hospital, and the robber had targeted the wrong person this time.

And who was that kind man who brought her to the hospital? Completed formalities, paid the bills in advance, made sure she wouldn’t have to touch a penny from her pocket and just chose to remain anonymous— to a stubborn level? She did not understand.

New York seemed to be too much to handle.

She felt like she did not belong there. Not like she wanted to find a home in the city, no, but it was like the city itself was giving her a cold, indifferent stare. The towering buildings were not intimidating, but the sense that she was in a completely new and somehow dangerous territory was bothering her. It was disturbing even.

She felt like an outsider. Not exactly like a ‘small-town-girl’ outsider. It felt like worlds apart.

Just as she felt in the Continental.

Everything about the hotel seemed good, posh, just not normal. No matter how much it tried to imitate the ‘normal’, she did not feel a sense of comfort or even a sense of normalcy. There was something off about the hotel. The city did not feel as ‘off’, but the thought would be constantly there at the back of her mind.

(Y/N) rubbed her fingers on her forehead, touching the bandages in the process. Maybe she was thinking too much. Maybe her ‘fresh’ start in New York had begun on the wrong foot.

Maybe—

Her phone rang.

Oh right, she had texted her senior regarding her accident. Picking up the device, she pressed the button to answer the call.

Here it goes— questions and answers, and more questions.

She sighed mentally while schooling her voice to sound as pleasant as she could at the moment.

—------

The next morning, it was Alex who called her. Even through the phone, she could feel his concern. She had not shown up in the bus they would usually take to commute back home, and of course, Alex noticed.

“I will be there.”

“No, Alex, there’s no need, I’m okay. I will be discharged this afternoon. You can’t make it then anyway.”

“Why, which hospital is it? I'm coming.”

“Alex, you have a job to do.”

“I will manage (Y/N), just tell me the name and address.”

“Ale–”

“(Y/N), what are friends for if they cannot even be by your side when you need it?”

She sighed and shook her head before giving him the name and address of the hospital.

There was a short silence.

“Oh.”

She frowned at the unexpected response.

“Alex? You good? It's okay if you can’t—”

“I’ll be there.” He asserted.

“O–okay. Sure, I will be waiting.”

****

Here comes another chapter. I'm sorry if the description of her concussion was incorrect, I'm no expert. Please feel free to correct me.

#john wick imagine #yandere john wick #yandere john wick x reader #john wick x reader #dark john wick

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swampstew · 9 months

Text

Period HCs with Monster Trio + Law, Killer, and Kid

Ya girl is wracked with cramps, overflowing with emotions, and seriously lacking in chocolate :( enjoy this utter nonsense my blazed brain baked as I curl back into fetal position.

Summary: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Killer, and Kid ranked by how they would handle themselves while you have your period. Implied established relationship♡

Minors DNI.

The worst actually. Not on purpose but Luffy's lack of awareness or self-restraint makes it difficult to appreciate his efforts. Not to mention he eats your snacks. You'd think with Nami and Robin on board he'd have some idea of what you're dealing with. Nope, you have to explain it again, it'll stick this time but it comes with another round of curious/invasive questions.

All your period comfort foods? Gone. The replacements? Also gone. You're lucky if there's a crumb of your favorite snack left over. Thankfully for everyone involved, his crew lends him a hand to make sure you're (eventually) satiated with alternatives and don't go on a murder spree during your cravings. On the flip side, Luffy abuses his power as Captain to have Sanji bring you both all the food when the kitchen is finally restocked. Good luck and bite him back if you have to!

His saving grace is using Gear 2 to cuddle and keep you warm. Giving you heated massages, foot and belly rubs until you're purring like a kitten. Unfortunately, he can only do the same thing for so long before growing bored. He needs a lot of intermittent breaks.

Has no tact, will ask you uncomfortable questions about your "thing going on" or your "comma" because he's so very curious and maybe also looking for ways to "fix you." Once he finds out about period poops, its over for you - there will be hourly check-ins. He'll make sure you're well stocked up on absorption products so there's that (also say thank you Nami, Robin and Franky)!

Zoro is shockingly adaptable but I guess if you spend enough time with one girl for two years - and also live with 2 full time - you're gonna learn a thing or two about having a period. Also, surprisingly reliable at getting you what you need, so long as you don't mind 2 hours to 2 business days to get it. Look he's trying ok?!

Be careful with what you say though. If you joke about cutting your uterus out, he'll take you at face value and have his blades ready. No one is a better slice master than he! Why is Chopper having a heart attack? BRB gotta tend to the younger bro.

Is not phased by your bodily changes or anything you might perceive to be "gross." Bodies are natural and they're just doing what they're meant to do, and for what it's worth he's trying to say things that will make you feel better but they don't always land. This comes from a guy who showers maybe twice a week so take the compliments as you will. He means them with his whole heart!

Out of all the guys, he's the only one who will respect your craving habits in a supportive way. That's to say he'll give you everything you want, but he knows when to cut you off before you make yourself sick. He also has a (terrifying) gift of knowing when your body is flushing itself out and he'll be right at your side with a tampon or pad in his hand at the ready. "I'm very in sync with you."

Ranks third because he's so fucking logical and doctorly. The kind of doctor that expects his medical advice and prognosis to outweigh your personal experience/feelings. Has Law ever experienced intense cramping and a headache while gushing a pint of blood and also pulled a full day's shift? No! "Doctoring" immediately invalid. Unless he gives you paid time off in which case his license is once again formally recognized.

On the OTHER hand, he will always have a colorful variety of options for you to take care of your personal business. He buys all biodegradable products, recyclable ones too! He also offers the best choices in birth control for you. Gynecology wasn't his specialty but taking care of his crew is so he studies and gets his license on the downlow.

Is VERY particular about his time spent and frankly, cuddling in bed isn't something he's entirely excited about. Sure he can do it with Bepo but that's like sleeping with a teddy bear you've had your whole life. Another person is different, especially one that needs his undivided attention and comfort. He'll give it and he won't complain about it, but he's not familiar with it and might be awkward at it for a time. Once he figures out what works best for you and let's himself relax around you, he's got the cuddling and rubbing your belly/lower back down to an exact science.

Questionable palate offerings when he first experiences your cravings. You had to teach him what's what when it comes to comfort eating and nutritional eating when you're in pain and your brain feels a bit scrambled from existing. Ikkaku had tried in the past to broaden the snack closet but it never stuck. With you, Law suddenly remembers to get things outside of his own personal preferences and comforts. It's comfort food for the BEPERIODED, LAW.

It's entirely because he's a chef and a well-groomed cutie that he ranks this highly. Honestly it was neck and neck between him and Law. His resume in the kitchen makes you forget about his perviness and near-infantilization of you.

You'll never have a craving unsatisfied because Sanji will go to the ends of the Earth to curb your hunger. The One Piece and All Blue can wait, his darling needs a rich, velvety chocolate mousse two minutes ago! He absolutely spoils you which may lead to overstuffing you until you feel worse than how the cramps made you feel.

Sanji waits on you hand and foot during your period. Practically carries you from point A to point B if you so wish. It might get annoying after a while if you don't like a hot blonde popping in your face every 10 minutes to offer you something you knew you needed but didn't know you needed right that second and you're kind of annoyed that he got it before you could even vocalize your own needs! Does that happen to anyone else or...? If you're into that pampered lifestyle, Sanji is the guy for you.

He wasn't around women a lot but living with Robin and Nami he did learn about products used and comfort items sought out, which he gives you in abundance. Sanji's weakness - period boobies. The slight swell has him a blubbering mess and he will always try to sneak a peek. He may or may not be able to smell your pheromones - its unclear but he is definitely sniffing you from time to time.

The clear winner out of the others its not even a joke. Is the trifecta of caring, supportive, and intuitive. The Period Manager™ everyone else should go back to their ship. No I am not biased.

Killer is the Chef of Carbo-loading but he knows his way around the kitchen and can make anything you desire at any given time. Desserts aren't his strongest suit but its the effort that makes it taste all the sweeter. You will never be without chocolate, praise be.

You've seen him so you know he knows muscles. Yours will become putty in his hands as he gently massages your aching body. With the help of low dose pain killers, Killer will slay your pain one sore muscle at a time.

Killer is so intuitive that he knows you have your period before you. Has your cubby on the bathroom countertop that includes: pads, tampons, flow-cup, aspirin, fuzzy socks, eye mask, and bottled juice. Your robe is hanging behind the door. He loves you so much.

Haha bitch you though. Kid is the true winner. Killer was the favored winner but you might have forgotten this is me we're talking about and Kid has never done anything wrong in his life ever. I support all his rights and wrongs, and I cheerlead at every speck of effort he puts in.

Where everyone else had mentors or positive authority figures to bond with, Kid had Killer - and Killer tried his fucking best. But not even someone as amazing as Killer can be a single mom and raise a mentally stable, well functioning person in society in a corrupted, gang-ruled regime. HOWEVER - Killer did teach Kid how to treat his period-having partner during their woes and Kid's success is Killer's pride and joy.

Like Luffy, Kid will definitely swipe your snacks and food because he's a greedy, greedy glutton. Prove you can bark back at him to stand your ground and he'll yield to you with a scoff and a pout. He doesn't even LIKE your snacks, he claims🙄 He'll make sure you have enough to satisfy your craving and then have a month supply in the hull of the ship just in case. This is where he'll sneak a few for himself without your notice.

Being the King of Treating Himself, Kid will generously make you things to comfort you. A weighted, heat-controlled blanket; a vibrating teddy bear that hugs your belly; a snack organizer to keep your preferences nearby; a personal cold/hot water cooler; pretty things to make you smile; dirty things to excite you for when its over; the gifts are boundless. So are the period products that he basically just steals from the other women in the crew.

“Captain you better reimburse me for those heavy flow tampons!!”

“I’m busy Quincy. Go bitch to the piggy bank (Wire) about it!!!”

“KILLER STOP THAT MAN!”

In his line of work, he's used to nitty gritty and things better left to the imagination. Also a bit grimy himself on occasion. That said, nothing your body does will ever disgust him. He rolls with whatever you throw at him. Bloodied bedsheets? He'll gently toss you and the sheets in the tub. He'll help clean out your soiled clothes. Buy or steal whatever you need to ease your comfort. Embarrassed by the way you feel or look? He'll give you a reassuring kiss on the cheek and say, "Eh, I've seen/heard/smelled worse."

#eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x you #trafalgar law #massacre soldier killer #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #swampstew #swampstew bedtime stories #swampstew stories #killer x you #sanji x you #roronoa zoro x you #monkey d luffy #luffy x you #law x you

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incognitobobcat · 3 months

Text

The Earthrealm Boys and Female!Reader who is laughing hysterically with the below poster involved:

Warning: swearing (for the younger eyes) and subtle mentions of suicide and depression.

Johnny Cage

“Ah! Hsbfhhdhwbhwjssnjjkiakkkk!!!!!!!” You cussed internally as the nerves of your fingers couldn’t take any more of you literally pounding sand, a big basin filled with hot sand, which was part of your Shaolin training. You were careful not to actually cuss in the Wushi Academy for obvious reasons.

“Looks like you wanna tell yourself to go “pound sand!”” Johnny called out to you, laughing.

You glared at him, blowing a lock of hair off your face before retorting, “You pound this sand, then!”

“Oh, no no NOOO!” Johnny laughed, “I’m good! I’ve had my fill of that!”

You groaned pathetically, not wanting to go on, as you have been doing that for the past half hour. You listened to your sore, red hands, waving them in the cool air to alleviate the pain.

Johnny beckoned you by waving his hand towards himself, “Hey, I’ve got a gift for you!”

Curious, you followed Johnny. He led you to a tree, where there was a large sign. The first thing that caught your eye was the wording inside a large circle in the centre that read “Bang Head Here”. You then read the rest of the poster before bursting out in hysterical laughter.

“It’s something for your noggin to get it off the pain. You’re welcome!” Johnny exclaimed before walking away.

Raiden

After a full day of training, the last task being crawling forward down several flights of stairs built on one of the downhill slopes as fast as you humanly can, all you wanted to do was throw up from the pain.

How you held it in was a miracle. You wanted to cry, and cry you did. You contemplated your life choice, which included joining the Shaolin, wondering why on earth you thought it was an excellent challenge to upgrade your skills, as it seemed brutal and unforgiving so far.

You found yourself walking down a trail lined with trees until you spotted Johnny’s “gift”. Your sadness transitioned to you being greatly amused as you walked towards it, chuckles intensifying to laughter.

Before you could stop yourself, you banged your head against the poster, not hard enough to hurt yourself, of course.

“Y/N! What are you doing??”

Your laughing subsided some as you turned to see Raiden walking towards you with a concerned expression. Your face softened a little.

“Don’t do that! You’ll hurt yourself!” Raiden chastised you gently.

You waved a hand in the air reassuringly, “Oh, don’t worry, I was just having a bit of fun with myself while contemplating my life choices. Look what Johnny got me! Isn’t that hilarious??” You gestured towards the poster nailed to the tree.

Raiden approached the sign and read what it said silently. Then he sighed, shaking his head.

“Johnny!” Raiden exclaimed in an exasperated tone.

“I think it’s the best!” You laughed hysterically, then held up both hands when you saw Raiden’s concerned face turned towards you.

“Not to minimize your concern, Raiden! I totally appreciate your concern! It’s just a little humour and fun in a stressful situation. I promise you, I’m not hurting myself!”

You appealed with a reassuring and apologetic look for worrying him.

Sighing, he relented, “Alright, I’ll let it go this time. But if you need to talk to de-stress from training, I’m here.”

You nodded appreciatively, “Thank you! I’ll keep that in mind.” You felt bad that your amazing human of a friend worried about you, though.

Kenshi

Another day of gruelling training meant another day of extreme pain. It never seems to get better over time and you were frustrated as hell from what you perceive was a lack of improvement. It has been months since you joined, and though you had a martial arts background you were no spring chicken either.

In order to release yourself from any self-loathing, you need some senseless and random humour. That was how you you’ve always countered any “tragedies” (over exaggeration) of life; that or listening to Sum 41, Linkin Park, Rammstein, and the like, which was not allowed in a Buddhist institution. By the Elder Gods, you missed your music!

You headed to a wall where the “Stress Relief Kit” was tacked on, hidden from the masters as best as it could be. Sighing, you started head banging on it, repeating, “No…no…no…” in sync with each banging.

Without warning, you yelped as were lifted of the ground and were sent flying a few yards before landing on a soft patch of grass with a thud.

Confused, you scrambled onto all fours as you saw Kenshi walk past you.

“There are other ways to distress, Y/N,” he said with a stoic expression without looking at you. He continued to walk and he disappeared into the trees.

Out of all reactions, a bout of hysterical laughter hit you once you processed what just happened.

Kung Lao

Whenever you were paired with Kung Lao as a sparring partner, you had so much fun. Even though Kung Lao had an ego, it was the kind of ego that a child has when he wanted to be praised for his attention-seeking antics.

He was an absolute riot. You didn’t know if lost more calories and got flat abs from training or from dying of laughter.

That does not mean that he wasn’t a good fighter. In fact, he’s got an awesome fighting style, even without the hat.

“Hey, Y/N,” he began, beaming, “You know that sign that Johnny gave you? Where is it?”

”Oh! It’s on a wall!”

“Go get it! I’m gonna show you something amazing!”

You quickly went to retrieve the letter paper-sized metal poster, then you handed it to Kung Lao.

You followed Kung Lao to where there was a long wooden plank of about an inch thick and six feet long that was held up on either side by stone pillars of around four feet high. Kung Lao placed the poster on the centre of the plank.

“Now, watch and learn, Y/N,” Kung Lao said with bravado and a grin. After taking off his hat and handing it to you, he stood up straight with his arms on his sides, closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and then-SNAP! At lightning speed, he broke the plank in half with his head.

It happened so fast and you stared at him with jaws hanging open and wide-eyed. Kung Lao smiled at your reaction as he took his hat back from you.

“OMG!! Teach me! Teach me!!” You exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down and pumping your fists in front of you.

Smirking, Kung Lao took another plank that was leaning against a wall and set it on the stone supports. He then took the dented sign that now resembled a bowl and flattened it as best as he could before placing it on the centre of the plank. He gestured towards the plank.

“Your turn,” he said.

You eagerly stepped in front of the plank and mimicked Kung Lao’s stance and breathing before you have at it. You smashed your forehead against the wood with all your might and, no surprise, nothing broke.

“OW!” You screamed as you fell on your butt, laughing hysterically while massaging your head.

“Y/N, a word.”

You recognize the voice of who called to you. Uh-oh.

Liu Kang

You clumsily scrambled onto your feet, trying to kill your hysterical laughter, but failing miserably.

You struggled to muster the most apologetic expression.

“Lord Liu Kang,” you greeted. Kung Lao, who was behind you, also bowed respectfully.

“Follow me,” the Fire God instructed.

You intuited the seriousness of the mood, so your laughter significantly subsided to a smile. You were led to a quieter spot of the area before Liu Kang spoke.

“Y/N, what is this I hear about you banging your head against hard surfaces?”

“Oh,” you began sheepishly, “It’s something fun that I have been doing to relieve stress. It’s for humour’s sake, I’m not really hurting myself!”

“While humour has its time and place,” Liu Kang began, “Further harming oneself as a joke to relieve stress has no place in training. There have been a few who have brought your behaviour to my attention. And, what is this “stress relief” poster?”

“Oh, Johnny gave it to me as a joke,” you quipped, slightly lighting up, “To lighten my mood!”

“Please retrieve this gift, Y/N.”

You did as you were ordered and handed the bent poster to Liu Kang who looked as it before sighing.

“I will have a word with Cage. In the meantime, I don’t want to see or hear about any more of this behaviour from you. If the intense training is more than you can handle, perhaps consider a break.”

“No, Lord Liu Kang. I will manage,” you replied, “I’ll bear it.”

Liu Kang nodded, “Good. One more thing, Y/N.”

You nodded expectantly, “Yes?”

“Don’t always follow whatever Kung Lao wants you to do. He has been training for far longer than you, and while his skills are indeed impressive, you are not yet at his level. The last thing we need is for you to needlessly injure yourself. It would be such a loss to Earthrealm. We need you, Y/N.”

Touched, you bowed deeply, “I apologize, Lord Liu Kang. It will never happen again.”

Smiling, the Fire God nodded, “ I trust that it won’t.”

He turned to walk away and you sighed in relief. As gruelling as Shaolin training was, you were glad that you didn’t get kicked out.

Sub Zero (Bi Han)

You and a couple of trainees were taking turns sparring each other in the courtyard of the Lin Kuei palace, where it was unrelentingly cold. Not only do you have to train under hard conditions and get your human bodies used to it, you also have to endure the dead serious attitudes and moody atmosphere.

You knew that you and a few others would love to let loose and be yourselves, but that can only happen out of the sight and earshot of your battle-hardened seniors, especially the frigid Grandmaster.

Luckily for you, the two trainees who you were sparring with were somewhat like-minded in terms of a sense of humour.

“I’ve got something to show you!” You said to your mates in a sing sing voice. It was your break anyways, and you took advantage of the situation. Your mates looked at each other then back to you with quizzical expressions.

You grabbed your bag and pulled out a metallic Stress Relief Kit sign and held it up. It only took a few seconds before the two erupted in hysterical laughter, followed by yours.

“If unconscious, cease stress reduction activity?!” The first mate said, “I think that’s a given!”

“Where are you gonna put it?” Asked the second one.

“Here!” You exclaimed, pointing to the nearest wall. You held the poster in place at face level, “Go ahead! Try it!”

“Excuse me??” the second one said, “It’s your poster. YOU do it!”

“Yeah! You do it!” the first one said, taking your place in holding the poster against the wall, “Go on! Show us how it’s done!”

You stood in front of the poster, braced yourself, and then banged your head against the circle three times. The three of you erupted into hysterical laughter and you were high fived.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” Came a harsh and gruff voice.

It’s safe to say that the hysterics stopped and the three of you froze solid with horrified looks, turning gingerly to face your Grandmaster.

If looks could kill, all three of you would be shattered ice statues by now.

Bi-Han eyed the three of you coldly, then he saw the poster held against the wall by the first mate.

His scowl deepens and he growled before speaking, “The Lin Kuei is an elite of highly trained assassins and warriors. We have a reputation and an image to uphold! I do not tolerate foolish and frivolous behaviours that will drag the Lin Kuei name down to the level of idiots! Conduct yourselves with dignity or face my wrath! And dispose of that at once!”

With a last growl, he turned on his heels and stormed off in a dignified manner, muttering, “Bird brains!”

The three of you just stood there staring at each other with held breaths. You guess you wouldn’t be having fun for a long time.

Scorpion (Kuai Liang)

It has been a few months since you became an initiate. Since the inception of Shirai Ryu, there was an urgency to expedite everyone’s training to get all of you where you needed to be, which is why the new clan was very selective of their initiates. Where time is if the essence, quality counts.

Since you had a friend who was accepted in first, she had dropped your name and were approached to become an initiate. You were lucky to have made the cut, since you had years of martial arts training.

While the training was held to very high standards, Grandmaster Scorpion was also fair and took into consideration a reasonable work-life balance. Because of the nature of your current profession, it only makes sense to include as much laughter as you can, while you’re still alive.

When you and your friend were still room mates back in college as international students, you had this one Stress Relief Kit poster for good laughs. Now that you were both initiates, that poster had found its way on the wall of your group’s designated dojo.

Everybody seem to have a great laugh out of it, but the most frequent user seem to be you, which put you and your friend in hysterics every time. That is why you got called into the Grandmaster’s office one day.

“Have a seat, Y/N,” Kuai Liang gestures towards the chair in front of the desk. You sat down, feeling anxious.

“How are you?” He began, looking you in the eye.

“I am well, Grandmaster,” you replied, slightly shifting.

“Is training going well?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good,” he replied; then, “Is everything alright with you?”

Confused, you nodded, “Everything is ok.”

“Are you sure?” He held eye contact with you, expression serious.

Confused even more, you nodded, feeling uncomfortable.

“It has come to my attention that you’re engaging in self-harming behaviour,” Kuai Liang said seriously, “Your team mates report that this often happens during training.”

Your face softened, “Oh,” you began.

“They reported that you are “stressed out” and that the frequent banging your head against the wall to music of a questionable nature is catharsis,” Kuai Liang began, “If that is the case, that tells me that your mental health is affected to the point where I am concerned. Do you need to talk to someone, Y/N?”

The genuine concern in his eyes made you feel guilty and cornered like a child being questioned about bad behaviour by a parent or a teacher.

“Oh, no, I am fine Grandmaster,” you began explaining about the poster that you and your friend had since college, and that the poster was meant for nothing more than lighthearted fun.

After you finished, Kuai Liang kept eye contact with you, and you can’t help but feel like he was a human lie detector. He finally spoke.

“Y/N, the Shirai Ryu takes training seriously. We hold ourselves to high standards as we are now one of Earthrealm’s protectors. We also need to be vigilant as the Lin Kuei can strike us at anytime. Our bodies and minds need to be in top condition in order to withstand the stresses and dangers of this way of life. If you feel that you cannot handle the stress that being in our clan brings, maybe this is not the right fit for you.”

Feeling bad, you reassured the Grandmaster that you are able to handle the stress of training, and the poster, again, was a joke to help cope with stress. You are indeed fine.

Kuai Liang seemed to accept your answer, and continued, “It is imperative that we check in with ourselves and each other. Your team mates did the right thing by coming to me. Do not hold this against them. Also, be mindful that you’re in a different country and therefore you need to be sensitive to the culture and its nuances. Many people may not understand your sense of humour and may take offence at it.”

“I understand, Grandmaster,” you affirmed, nodding solemnly, “I apologize for my actions.”

“Good,” Kuai Liang nodded, “ You are dismissed.”

You stood and bowed with both hands clasped in front of you respectfully before exiting the office a changed person!

Smoke (Tomas Vrbada)

Long before the above meeting with your Grandmaster happened, you were having just another typical training day, where part of it was spent training with your group, and the other half was either working out and honing your skills on your own.

You and your friend were sparring. Since it was just the two of you in your designated dojo, you whipped out out your iPhone and went through you play lists to play some music while training to hype things up.

“Oooh! That’s a good pick!” Your friend exclaimed with eyes wide as she hovered over you shoulder while you tapped the screen to select your music. You turned the volume up to a reasonable degree as rhythmic clapping started, shortly followed by the guitar riff, then the drums and the rest of the instruments.

At this point, you were both head banging to the music going, “Yeah!” “ I miss this song!”

“Wake in a sweat again

Another day’s been laid to waste

In my disgrace.”

The opening lines of Linkin Park’s “Given Up” were sung; hyped up, you each picked up your bo staff and worked on your technique and form taking turn as offended and defence. Sticks clashed seemingly in beat to the music as both of you eyed each other trying to read each other’s moves.

There were more clashing of sticks, grunts, cries, spins, evasive maneuvers, and deflections with your intense sparring.

You felt a hard whack at the back of your calves as your friend swept her staff at a low angle, knocking you on to your back.

As if on queue, you heard Chester Bennington sing, “I’VE GIVEN UUUUUUUUUP!” This elicited hysterical laughter from the both of you. As your friend helped you up, you leaned on her shoulder for support, struggling from laughter.

Your friend was far more skilled at the staff than you were, as so far, you’ve lost count of the number of times that she’s knocked you on your back.

“Aaaaaaaah!” you cried out, heading to a specific spot on the wall. You started to bang your head to

“PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY

PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY

PUT ME OUT OF MY

PUT ME OUT OF MY FUCKING MI-“

Your head banging was halted when your forehead suddenly made contact with something soft and warm.

“This again?”

You looked up and locked eyes with those of your Sensei, Smoke. The Shirai Ryu’s Second-in-Command had an amused look on his face as he placed his hand between your head and the wall that was home to the Stress Relief Kit.

Still in hysterics, you struggled to stand straight so that you can bow in greeting.

“At least you didn’t progress to the “unconscious” part,” Tomas chuckled, reading the poster, “And what an interesting choice of music to train to, Y/N.”

You managed to control your laughter enough to give an answer, “We miss this song from our college days.”

“You know,” Tomas began, “I have been noticing that you’ve been having a little too much fun with this.” He knocked a knuckle on the poster twice.

“It’s called catharsis! You should try it!” You quipped back.

“I can think of other ways that you can destress besides head banging against a poster on a wall to this kind of music.”

“What do you mean?” Your friend countered, “It’s frickin’ epic!”

“If you think about it, don’t you think that it’s counter productive to train hard to survive to music about giving up on life?” Tomas asked, “Are you Going Under?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, looking to your friend then back to him.

“You know, like, you want to stay in love with your sorrow, but God, you wanna let it go through “catharsis”?” He looked at you deadpan this time.

You paused for a minute before answering, “Aren’t you poetic, Sensei.”

You got a stare back in return, his expression still serious, but his eyes with a hint of teasing, which confused you.

“if you ever feel like you’ve tried so hard and got so far, but in the end it doesn’t even matter, my ears are open,” Tomas offered.

”Geez, I’m fine!” you protested, feeling more annoyed about being teased.

“You don’t have to hide. We’d rather you talk, rather than you walk alone on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.”

Something about what he said sounded familiar, then it clicked! That’s when your friend started howling.

“Oh! HAHAHAHAAA!! I see what you did! That’s very clever, man!” Your friend raised a hand to Tomas, which he returned with a high five.

Tomas cracked a smile, chuckling a little.

You shut your eyes in relief and laughed along. He had a sense of humour after all!

“I was, like, what’s going on?? Then, I’m like, “Oh, gotcha!!” You choked out.

“You’re fine,” Tomas lightly shoved your shoulder. As he turned to leave, he stopped and warned, “Y/N, being goofy is fine, just don’t overdo it. I might start getting worried, then I would have to have a serious talk with you one day if it continues. Remember, safety first!”

With that, he disappeared through a doorway leading to the next room.

Both of you were in high spirits and still giggling. It was a pleasure to see this subtle and humorous side of Smoke, which you hope you’d see more of.

**Can anyone guess what songs Tomas was quoting from? 😁😁😁

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ember-owlet · 2 months

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Hi hi :]] I practically did a little happy dance seeing blue eye samurai in your fandom list !

It's super easy for me to see Mizu as a regressor due to various reasons, particularly involuntarily! (And they very much deserve to catch up on their childhood)

So I think the formal request would be a headcanon post ! 👀 it doesn't have to be specifically regressor Mizu if you don't see her in that light /gen :]

I'm just happy someone else in this little corner of agere internet shares one of my interests !! ✨️🌿

hello!! aaa i'm ecstatic to know that you also enjoy blue eye samurai with an agere lens! despite the show's brutality, there are some really good nuggets of baby content to be found. i'd be happy to write some regressor! mizu headcanons for you as its about time i wrote something for them. and don't worry, i see her in the same light as well! feel free to send me your own personal thoughts on the characters/show to discuss as i'm thrilled to be in this corner of the agere internet with you friend. enjoy the headcanons! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ disclaimer! i do use primarily feminine terms when referring to mizu (they/she), but i do acknowledge that there are many interpretations of pronouns/gender identities to refer to the character as, and i find them wonderful! /gen

dynamic: regressor! mizu

content warnings: mentions of vent regression due to trauma, physical/mental anguish, light mentions of gender dysphoria ((stay safe little firelights, you can always come back to this when you're ready))

mizu has always been a trauma regressor to me, especially due to their lack of dealing with their feelings head on. their body would have to nearly force them to stop and take a break from their revenge mission and focus on recovering.

the first time she regressed would be terrifying to her, the feeling of being so out of control and helpless would make her hide away to try to push herself out of it as fast as possible.

it would take an incredible amount of time and trust developed before she felt safe around someone to tell, let alone show such a vulnerable state.

the select characters that i could realistically see her regressing around would be sword father or ringo.

if she were to regress voluntarily it would be to have the childhood that she wished she could have, one where she wasn't forced to grow up as a boy and to ease her gender dysphoria with feminine items/clothing.

she would be a very independent kiddo, not wanting to rely on others in fear that she would be an inconvenience or she would be punished for wasting someone's time after being treated as a monster for so long. if she were honest she genuinely wouldn't know how to react to such affection.

that being said, she needs gentle reassurance when in a younger state with a caregiver that helps her along the way. adding fruit/vegetables to her meals to make sure its balanced or mending their clothes would never go unnoticed and greatly appreciated.

she'd be so used to the feeling of being in pain or nauseous that she'd have a hard time differentiating pain that should be attended to or not. therefore her caregiver would need to keep an eye on her and remind her that any and all pain is worth looking at/caring for.

as a sentimental person she'd want to keep things gifted to her and wear or use them as comfort items until they physically can't be repaired anymore.

some of her favorite gifts would include free flowing or baggy clothes that she can keep close to her person for comfort.

her main comfort item is her sword, and would not be able to go anywhere or sleep without it clutched to her side as it reminds her of home and is something that she can rely on to keep her safe.

an actually extremely feral regressor as well if given the chance to be her true self (/lh /pos). i could absolutely see them wanting to play outside and then coming back home caked in mud and bruises while having the time of their life.

let her be a goofy kid!! growing up so fast from situations out of her control that she'd long for days where she'd let herself have fun.

LOVES going to the beach/aquarium. a true ocean lover whose favorite activities involve being around or in large bodies of water.

play fighting is a love language! she would love to wrestle her playmates/caregivers to see who is the strongest. as a physically stronger regressor she'd need to learn the value of her strength and to not be too rough if she were to get too excited.

they can get easily frustrated with creative tasks, and would prefer specific instruction in order to feel useful. it would make them the best helper around.

would love to play a game where they are the hero for once. (being called a monster can wear someone down mentally and it would definitely make her day to be seen as the hero of the story).

she also requires a ton of quiet time to allow her mind and body to rest. would she ever do it herself willingly is another question for another day, but she'd reluctantly do it if asked of her with sufficient gentle praise and coaxing.

as touch starved as they are, i can't see her being the one to initiate contact with someone unless the moment takes over her softer side and she can't help but wrap her arms around them or gently nudge them with her body to tell them that she's there and cares for them.

from her caregiver or those that she considers close she would accept forms of physical affection but wouldn't be too vocal on how much it means to her.

she'd believe that she'd never be able to repay her caregiver for their kindness but will continually try to find little things throughout the day to show them how grateful she is.

oddly enough i could totally see her gifting a sword to her caregiver as it is something that she believes she's good at and would work tirelessly day and night to make sure it's perfect.

despite being in a younger mindset she can and still would mean business to anyone who dares mess with her caregiver. even a baby phoenix still has talons.

#regressor! mizu #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai agere #mizu blue eye samurai #bes #bes mizu #agere #age regression #fandom agere #agere headcanons #sfw agere #sfw age regression #sfw agere blog #sfw age regression blog #sfw interaction only #embers writings

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littlespacereader · 25 days

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Traveling advice; You can always take a stuffie with you, I've found that most people truly don't care! And if someone asks about it, you can always says it's a gift for a younger sibling (it's none of their business but people are more sympathetic to family matters)

Thank you so much for this supportive ask! I really appreciate it! Ever since I posted my Travel Advice Needed post, I couldn’t believe the amount of help and advice people gave me.

Like this wonderful advice! I used to be self conscious of carrying my stuffie around until I saw so many people doing it in the airport. Now now I carry my stuffie all the time with me! I even carry one of my favorite Star Wars action figures with me for double support! (It’s Tech and Crosshair from the Bad Batch)

I just want to thank everyone again for some great advice. I really helped make traveling back and forth to college a lot more comfortable. Thank you🥹💞

#age regression #age regressor #agere little #agere #little space #sfw age regression #sfw agere #agere post #sfw littlespace #age regression blog #agere community #age regression community #sfw age regressor #travel advice #age regression sfw #ageregression #age re safe space #agere blog

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silkendandelion · 3 months

Text

Say My Name (This Time I Will Answer)

A One Piece fanfiction (completed, one-shot), Gift Fic for Mirage In The Desert reaching 2,500 hits on ao3!!

ao3 link

Sir Crocodile x OC (male) Words: 7.6k Genre: Smut, fluff, romance, angst, bottom Crocodile

Rated: Explicit for sexual content, no external warnings apply

In Mirage In The Desert, Crocodile fantasized about a world where he and River met under different circumstances, one conducive to a love they could nurture. So I wrote it. In a world where he never lost his hand, and remained both a swordsman and a pirate captain, he hires a man off a random dock on some unknown island, one who proclaims he’s on pilgrimage from a Paradise island, and is looking for work. Can be read as x reader because River is not described nearly as in depth as the original fic. It can also be read alone from MITD, but might not be appreciated the same way.

Thank you for all of your continued support, and please enjoy 💙 it was so fun to work with Croc and River again, and this one is a personal favorite. Sweet, romantic, soft Crocodile, moonlit swimming, and lots of sauce 💝 have fun you guys

~*~

For all of Crocodile’s love of gold, and the flash of truth in the eyes of his opponents as the arc of his blade reaches it’s apogee, the sea was his first. His greatest paramour, a punishing lover that shouts and thrashes as much as she laves his skin with warm foam, cleansed of lesser men’s blood and graced by a crown of coral while she whispers:

My king.

So he procured a ship. To be close to her, to see a better, wider world than the one he knew, one overflowing with gold and power. He fled his home country on a stolen carrack worthy of his ambition, and filled her with a crew that was appropriately dangerous, loyal enough, who called her La Forza Dorato.

Today, years later and under such a bright sun, he wanted to be nowhere else.

“Captain!” A young crew member called to him, where he stood on the pier. He had already forgotten this one’s name. “Your list is exhausted, Sir. We sail on your command.”

“Immediately.” With only his word, they bustled to begin loosing the sails, and he remained on the dock long enough to light his cigar. His left thumb flicked open the solid gold lighter with a bright ping, while his right shielded it from the passing wind.

Thwip, thwip. But it only sparked. He clicked his teeth, about to bark out an order for one of the crew to hop down and buy lighter oil before they departed, until a man spoke up beside him.

“Need a light?”

An elegant hand with a calloused forefinger offered him a flame, attached to a man younger than himself but certainly not a boy by the creases along his eyes. Strikingly violet eyes among tan skin and dark, expressive brows that matched the mane of thick, black hair draped down his back, pulled neatly into a leather hair cord. Crocodile’s gaze flickered from the silver lighter to the twin swords on his hip, both the same shade of moonlight.

“Thank you,” he replied, polite but curt, and head bowed to accept.

“Is this your ship?” The stranger turned to his boat, wandering nearly onto the ramp until the crew gathered to block him, ready to defend.

“Oh—have I overstepped?” He chuckled nervously—handsomely, Crocodile hesitated to admit—and he nodded to his pirates to relax.

“Only fools wander onto a pirate ship of their own free will. Or stupidity.”

“I assure you, it’s foolishness, really,” the stranger explained. “I’m on pilgrimage from a Paradise island. If you have work for me, I promise to work hard.”

The crew grumbled in a ripple of protests, unimpressed by his fine-tailored clothes and sturdy boots, worthy of an adventure, sure, but only barely broken in. On that, Crocodile agreed, hesitant to entertain any self-proclaimed mercenary who, despite the hand-me-down rucksack slung over his shoulder, smelled of expensive perfume when the wind picked up his long hair.

“Are those swords just for show? Or do you claim to be a professional?” He pulled back his cape with his left hand to show the rapier on his own hip, a golden blade with a spiral hilt, too heavy to be a dress sword and proportionate to his tall, wide body.

“Why don’t you find out? Or are you just the captain?”

Crocodile had killed mouthier fools for less lip, but the mirth in those eyes, dancing among purple firelight and hinting of mischief, made him want to find out. He took a long drag off his cigar to keep from smiling, though it nearly turned into a scowl when the stranger spotted his decision—and had the audacity to grin at him.

Careful, beautiful stranger. Looking at men like that tends to make promises I doubt you could keep.

“You will refer to me as such.”

“Yes, captain,” replied the stranger with a deep, flourishing bow. “River Joel Faustina, at your service.”

“Shall I call you River?”

“Please,” he replied, beaming like his new captain had committed some incredible deed by merely offering him employment. Conditional upon his performance, of which pretty smiles held exactly zero weight. Crocodile rolled his eyes as he gestured for them to board, at the same time his crew were already scattering to enact his anticipated command.

“Let’s go!”

~*~

Crocodile ruled his ship the way he governed his heart: loyalty must be earned, obedience is non-negotiable, and failure often proved to be a fatal mistake. As to why the fool was still alive, even he didn’t know.

Perhaps he found his perseverance endearing, determined to haul sails and throw freight with the brawniest of his crew no matter how it reddened his fingers, his fine clothes beginning to fray with the strain of manual labor. Perhaps it was because Crocodile often forgot himself, unabashedly studying his newest sailor piling all of his hair to the top of his head between orders, and clicking his teeth that he was never wise enough to begin with his hair up. Surely, the ditsy stranger had to know how the loose pieces stuck to his neck in sweat-soaked petals, how the pieces curling around his chin in the humidity were capable to cause insanity.

He suspected a long plot, one where the stranger knew exactly the picture he painted when he stood by the railing to wring his shirt dry, the long line of his back tempting Crocodile to press fingerprints into his skin, until he was love drunk and bewitched, too warm and drowsy to prevent the robbery of more than just his jewels. That in mind, he respected the stranger’s dedication to his scheme, putting in long hours day after day, from his calculated “good morning, captain” at first light, to sending him dark eyes across the fire of the evening, and further flaunting himself across his captain’s restless dreams.

“I don’t like him,” Crocodile declared to no one.

For as long as he’s sailed, Crocodile always ate last, preferring to eat alone, and only after he deemed the day well and truly finished, the sun long gone. Despite his singular statement, containing it’s own beginning and end, the crewmate who poured his ale felt the need to reply. For tonight, on this subject, he would allow it.

“No one does. But, he does as he’s told. So how much can any of us complain?” They shrugged.

“He can’t be trusted.”

“I wonder where he goes every night, when he sneaks out of his bunk like none of us have ears.”

The clatter of Crocodile’s fork to his plate caused the startled crewmate to flinch. A coat of sweat began to dot their pallid skin, as they watched him slowly replace his fork to the napkin. “When would I have learned of these nightly occurrences, if I had not spoken?”

“I-immediately, captain, as—” They swallowed around their tight throat. “The moment I knew what it was the brat was uh—up to.”

”We’ll never know then.”

Crocodile’s rings caught the candlelight in a deadly flash, the promise of a permanent end to their business as he wrenched the crewmate up by his shirt.

“WAIT! You can’t—DON’T—”

A door opening elsewhere startled them both to silence, the cabin perfectly still while they both listened to it close, and the joining patter of feet on the deck. He tossed the man away, suddenly uncaring to enforce his own rules, to the grateful pounding of the frightened crewman’s heart.

“Get out,” he said simply, eyes and ears still trained to the almost imperceptible noise of footsteps.

The man scrambled to leave him alone, dashing off to go through the door they had heard open, while Crocodile ventured the opposite way to the deck. Empty, he believed at first, awash with moonlight and the white noise of the endless sea, enough to rock the ship but not to wake the crew in their beds. Against the railing, he spotted him, the sneak, his face turned to the damp wind, and… standing there?

He waited long breaths for him to reveal a snail phone, communicate to his handler he was getting close to his target, or mark notes in a pocket journal about his plot to fell the rising pirate before he became too powerful—but he only stood there. Basking in the moon, catching spray on his cheeks and gazing out at the sea like he was in love with her too.

Perhaps there was no plot after all, and his newest sailor was simply a fool. Nothing more. For now, there in the dark, damp and awed, he knew only one truth: that he found him beautiful.

~*~

Did he know his captain watched him walk the deck every night? Wondering what he scribbled about in his journal, a salt-stained book with it’s leather worn soft? Does he know he captivates me?

“It’s poetry,” he answered when questioned one morning at breakfast. The pirates at his elbows leaned to see the pages better, and the stranger had little mind to cover up or pretend to be embarrassed.

“What’s a man like you doing out on these seas?” Another one asked.

“I’ve come to see the world,” was his simple reply. “Find a new home, maybe find love.”

From the doorway of the galley, Crocodile blew smoke from his mouth, an olfactory announcement of his presence. The stranger was the only one to raise his head and meet his guarded, golden stare. “You’re a fool for that too.”

He rumbled some warning to the crew about other ship’s in the area, determined to appear indifferent to the stranger’s show of vulnerability, like he hadn’t fled to the sea for the same.

~*~

That night, as Crocodile sat beside the window in his quarters, smoking and thumbing a book without absorbing the pages, he wondered why the fool was late. 18 minutes, according to the golden watch in his pocket.

Tch, he clicked around his cigar, and was about to pour himself a drink when he heard the crew quarter’s door opening.

“A night for star gazing, eh?” He said quietly to no one, seeing the stranger come to the deck without a book or his pen. The night was perfect for such, their ship drifting aimlessly on a glass sea, the air warm and sky clear. His thoughts drifted back to the dark liquor on his desk. Would tonight be the time he went to him with two glasses and a hope fluttering around his insides? He seized the crystal glasses before he lost his nerve, grabbed the neck of the bottle, but—

The sight of endless skin outside the window froze him where he stood.

Once-fine linen pooled around bare feet, and the stranger stepped from their puddle to approach the railing, the night bathing the entirety of his skin a dark, deep blue.

“What is he—wait! Fool!” Crocodile ran from his quarters too late to catch him, just in time to watch him dive over the railing and down into the warm water. Bubbles preceded his resurfacing, among a gasp of delight and a handsome, shamelessly giddy smile.

“What are you doing?” Crocodile scolded down at him, quietly lest the crew wake and his voyeurism be revealed completely. “Are you insane?”

“Oh! Hello, captain,” the stranger replied, wading happily like he wasn’t being glared at by his highest superior. “Would you like to join me?”

“Get back up here—that’s an order. Storms can roll in at a moment’s notice.”

“Sky’s clear, captain. It’s only you and me,” he said, paddling onto his back to show him the planes of his body, chest barely breaking the surface and modesty only partially maintained by the black, shadowed water.

“Do you have any idea the kinds of animals that live in these deep waters?”

Dark eyes find his, and the mesmerized sway of his mind suddenly feels too much like falling over the railing. “I’ll protect you, captain.”

Absurd. Impudent. Brat. Crocodile cursed him repeatedly as he yanked at his clothes. But, with every article he tossed to the deck, his annoyance dimmed, soothed by the promise of warm seawater and a welcoming soul. He dove over the railing, the water parting for his large body in a burst of bubbles that tickled along his skin with the melodious laughter above him. Coming up for air promised the sight of the tempter up close, dotted on every inch of his skin with droplets of diamond—but he found he was gone.

“… Where—,” he gasped, startled at the brush of skin against his legs, and a dark shape darting beneath the rippled surface. What could easily be an expert swimmer or fish revealed itself as a man some meters away when the stranger reappeared. Beneath his wet lashes, he found his own yearning reflected back at him, alongside the same glimmer he saw at the docks all those weeks ago. The one that promised to either transform or drown him.

“If you catch me, you can kiss me,” promised the stranger.

They dove beneath the waves, and Crocodile soon realized he chased a native of the sea, as fast as any animal, breaking the moon beams that shone down through the water with the strong arc of his body to remain just out of his reach. He tumbled over the net of his hands with ease, exciting bubbles around them with his need to tease, to tighten his nimble limbs around the struggling thump of Crocodile’s vulnerable heart.

But Crocodile was also born to the sea, a predator of his own environment, and asking him to give chase was a simple request, as effortless as the yield of the stranger—this siren’s body when he folds into the hands that ensnare him. First, by the gentle grasp around his ankle, then sliding up the length of his legs to hold him in the wrap of his arms. With his delicate organs separated from the predator’s wide palms by only smooth skin dotted with moles, he offered Crocodile the air in his lungs, the warmth of his blood rising to his face as they finally catch their breath.

“Caught you.”

Under the compounding heat of his gaze, the water felt suddenly cool. Their limbs remained intertwined as he realized the only reason he held this creature of the sea—a man with a name, he reminded himself—in his hands, able to feel the thump of his pulse and the puff of his breath across both their lips was because he swam into his net of his own free will. Were he to deem his captain unworthy to touch him, he would have swam to the bottom and drowned him.

Yet here he floated, soft and beguiling, like he might dissolve into foam if Crocodile didn’t kiss him right this moment.

The slam of a door on deck flinched them apart, and Crocodile covered him with his body, despite them both bare, able to be seen completely if only the ripples calmed. Incoherent, sleepy grumbling floated down, among the sound of a zipper.

“How rude. Hey—” River called when a big hand clamped over his mouth, barely heard over the sound of liquid over another part of the railing they couldn’t see. Crocodile kicked them towards the netting along the side of the ship, quiet enough the sailor must have believed them to be fish, and left them alone to wander back to the cabin.

Among the silence, Crocodile realized with devastating clarity, lips still tingling where they had nearly touched, that he could not bring himself to continue.

Nevermind the moment being shattered by a weak bladder, their focus had been elsewhere long enough for Crocodile’s doubt to creep back into his edges. Cold, sour doubt, the worry about his worthiness of love, and wondering if River could smell his weakness. Wondering if he would still want him if he knew the fragility of his heart. Unbecoming, he believed, of a dangerous, cruel, and ruthlessly resourceful pirate. To remain apart was to protect his most vital asset: himself.

“… You should be in bed,” he said quietly.

“But—”

“That’s an order. River.” He couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, not when he might see the breaking of his own heart reflected back at him.

“Yes, captain.”

River climbed the net first, crestfallen, and Crocodile could not even bring himself to admire the back of him as he shed water and fumbled back into his clothes. He took no delight in going back to his quarters, clothes in hand, to lie down alone. Damp hands scrubbed down his face, reaching for a cigar to soothe the sting of his self-inflicted isolation. A punishment? For what, the imagined sins inflicted upon him by people he had already killed?

No, he thought as he flicked open the lighter. For my own weakness. That I replaced the chains of the dead with my own shackles. He does not deserve their weight, and neither do I.

Smoke wafted to the ceiling in lazy plumes, filling his lungs with the blanket of a hard decision.

The next time I hold him, he will have to decide: be mine, or find a new captain.

~*~

“No breakfast today, captain?” A crewmate asked when they were called to fetch his neglected tray and an empty carafe.

“How long until we reach the next island?” Crocodile asked instead.

“Day after tomorrow, captain. Our supplies will hold, despite how much that flimsy swordsman eats.”

He spun his cigar over the ash tray, tired, unseeing eyes scanning the correspondence and notes sprawled across his desk. “Perhaps… he will not be with us much longer.”

“Anything else, captain?”

“That will be all.”

Once his door clicked closed, the silence all but clawed at his nerves. He placed a record on his gramophone, finding comfort in the little band inside the tin speaker, and the weight of his rapier in his left hand. A few practice strokes, precise, gentlemanly, sharp in every way he was also. Were he to lose his hand, his ability to fight, he wasn’t sure it wouldn’t kill him, or worse perhaps, leave him alive.

He wondered if River could love a version of him without his sword, a man who would surely crawl from bloody ashes refusing to die, one who no longer cared to smother his rage. After all, even whole he was still that man. To love someone, to be theirs and keep them, was to love both who they are and who they could become.

A knock at his cabin door tells him the sun had set while he was in his head, the entire day lost to his sword strokes and spinning thoughts. The turning of the knob without his permission tells him exactly who stands on the other side, and River slips between the door and the frame to encroach on his habitat with little care for how he might be received. It clicks shut behind him, at the same time Crocodile’s scolding dies on his tongue.

He stands in night clothes Crocodile had never seen on him, a long linen shirt fluttering around his calves, his body bared as if he were nude by the glowing orange of the lamp light behind him, while his hair and limbs drip seawater onto the floor in gentle patters. The cloth soaks through where it touches his skin, framing goosebumps and tight nipples that perked up on the walk from warm water to the cool, dry cabin.

“Are you going to send me away? Captain?” His quiet voice startled Crocodile from his ogling.

“Why?” He manages with a dry mouth after a moment, and River opens his mouth to reply but he was not finished. “Why do you torment me? What do you want?”

“How do you not know? Can’t you see me?”

The slam of Crocodile’s palms on the short bureau behind River startles them both, caging him between corded arms that strain his dress shirt. He dips, poised to rumble the penultimate question against the warm skin of his neck where his pulse flutters against his lips. Between his legs, Crocodile’s knee keeps him spread, vulnerable, at the mercy of his crazed musings, and squirming as the furniture digs into the give where his rear meets his thighs.

But his question goes unasked. So he decides, as he stands close enough to see his own burning want reflected back in blown pupils, feel the impatient quiver of him against his body, that whatever his answer might be, he needed this night first. One night to begin a lifetime of bliss, or a special, singular night to carry him through.

“River.”

“Yes, captain?” His pink tongue flicks out to wet his dry, bitten lips.

“No. None of that,” he growls in the space between them before surging forward to lock their mouths together, tongues sliding as he grips the back of his thighs to hoist him onto the bureau. Both of them grab and yank at the bottom of River’s shift, hoisting it up to pool in the bend of his thighs so he can cage Crocodile’s waist between his thighs the way he himself is trapped between the hard planes of his body and the wall.

“Captain, we—”

A jeweled hand grabs his jaw, thumb digging into the joint, and keeps them impossibly close to let every letter of his order vibrate in his blushing throat. “Say my name.”

The blushes rises to flood his cheeks, a challenge if Crocodile had ever seen one, to turn his entire body pink to match. “But you said when we first met—I mean, someone will hear us.”

“They would not come through that door even if they believed you were being murdered. Don’t tell me you are shy?” River’s answer comes as an unabashed moan, Crocodile’s reward for sucking hot kisses into the junction of his neck and shoulder while wide, greedy hands knead and pull at the flesh of his hips to drag their erections together through their clothes.

“The man who came to my quarters in nothing but a shift has no right to be shy.”

He hauls him into his arms but does not move to the bed, instead setting him down on the table where his dinner had lain only hours before. The sigh of anticipation that stutters from River’s chest urges him to continue talking, to keep working his body with his voice. All burgeoning promise and smoke, the one that has him leaking into the crumpled mess of his shift with thoughts of Crocodile using those big hands to yank him back into his stroke on every single piece of furniture in the room.

“With the ease you stripped yourself bare to jump into the sea, I do not believe the moon can see any more of you than it already has.” Crocodile’s words were punctuated by shoving his shift up to his chest with one hand, bearing all of him to his hungry gaze as his other hand pulled open the buttons on his shirt. He yanked his belt open to give himself some modicum of relief, sighing hot when thinner hands slipped themselves into his trousers to stroke the clothed outline of his cock. Relief indeed—but tonight, he had no patience for mischief.

”What if someone had seen you?” He reached passed him for the oil (the same bottle he had used to maintain his rapier earlier in the night), and the scent of cloves drifted up from where he hastily slicked his hand. Long, thick fingers briefly massaged the skin behind River’s sack, down over nearly the entire cleft of him until he pressed one inside.

“Or did you want to be seen?”

To the pounding of his heart in his ears, and the rhythmic flex of River’s hands on his shift as he obediently keeps it lifted out of the way, he bullies in a second finger. For all his intent to stay still and let his lover adjust, be tended to, River’s hips squirmed in restless circles, tempting Crocodile to be mean to him with the little moans that puff from his kiss-bitten lips. But, for them to collide in a wave that swallows them both, he needed to hear from those lips he was wanted, even if the answer came ripped from River’s throat in the wail of his ecstasy.

“Answer me.” His fingers continued to drag over sensitive walls, pulling out just to shove back in again, again, pressing to his spot on every entry with an insistent curl. “Did you want to be seen? Eh? Would just anyone do?”

“N-no, I never—they wouldn’t,” he stammered out, his breath stolen by the lightning bolts of pleasure beneath his navel that lit up his entire body. A plea laid across his tongue, ready to be sprung but Crocodile’s fingertips refused to let him breathe enough to confess, like they were intent to keep him drunk and babbling until he could no longer recall excuses.

“O-only you. Only you, Captain, wanted y-you to see me. See me, fuck me—” A loud moan chopped off his words, loud enough to wake someone if not for Crocodile smothering his lips with a wet kiss, sucking on his tongue as he swallowed the cry caused by a third, thick finger. He consumed his sounds with a greed he hadn’t realized he could have for anything but gold, possessed to wring River’s body of every heaving breath and take them selfishly into his own lungs—

Until he had everything he could give.

River’s body rattled, toes curled hard enough to hurt as he wrenched his lips back on a ragged gasp, hips bucking into Crocodile’s soaked palm until he broke on the choked, shameless cry of his captain’s name. He moaned his crest to the ceiling, legs beginning to shake when those fingers refused to stop pistoning inside him. Crocodile almost regretted being so aggressive, but seeing those violet eyes shine with tears, lips equally glossy with drool as he called his name for the entire sea to hear—he wanted to reward him with blinding, wracking pleasure until he could recall no other words.

In the sudden quiet, he reached to soothe him, brushing his palms down his sides and hauling him into his arms to bring him down slow. For a long moment, there was only the sound of slowing breaths, their matched heartbeats pounding against the other’s ribs, until River’s eyes finally peeled open at the beckon of his voice.

“Did I break you?”

His answer came as a surge of energy in a desperate kiss, arms flung around his neck and a mournful sound pressed between his lips. Even through the tears, his eyes shone wetter than before, prompting Crocodile to wonder if he had made a terrible mistake.

“You made me come. Didn’t you—don’t you want me? To be inside me?”

The tight squeeze of his hands on River’s quivering waist dries those tears awfully quick.

“What kind of men have you allowed to touch you, that you would think one is enough?”

He isn’t prepared to watch storm clouds roll into his eyes at his question, elegant hands suddenly gripping into his shirt to shove him back from between his legs. For a shorter man, he carried a strength Crocodile had yet to witness in action, now aimed at himself as he wrestled them down onto the bed to perch above his hips in a tall line that spoke of some kind of pride.

In his miles of moonlit skin he saw it: the threat to be drowned by a man he didn’t fully understand. Yet, it only made Crocodile want more, grabbing for a life preserver in the strong thighs draped over him, and watching River toss his shift somewhere into the dark.

“I’m tired of your questions. Your assumptions to know me, what I’ve done with my body.” Above him, his gaze, the weight of his brow sat open and startingly sober. Among the storm, he found another emotion, the precursor to love, so close to honesty, and yet Crocodile could not identify it as devotion because he had never seen it before aimed at him.

“From the day I came aboard this ship, I never pretended to want anyone else, never hid my intentions. I only ever screamed them if you would bother to look.” He swallowed around his resolve. “You don’t believe me, that I want you? I will show you.”

For all of Crocodile’s hard-nosed affection, his growled demands and confident fingers, the immovable line of him lies willingly supine under the smaller man, long legs parting for him to crawl off his hips and down between his knees.

He looks perfect this way, they think about the other, meaning the way River pulls his endless, black hair to the top of his head with the leather from his wrist, and Crocodile’s wide chest beginning to rise and fall faster, the muscles in his strong jaw clenching and releasing with anticipation River can see plain in the heavy, tight line of his cock against his hip.

The shock of a hot mouth against his tip makes him hiss, soothed by wet kisses along every inch of him that is revealed by River’s hands slowly peeling down his trousers. Momentarily, River ponders undressing him completely so they match, but finds he enjoys too much the sight of Crocodile half undone, shirt bearing his solid torso and lower-half exposed only down to the tops of his thighs. Perfectly disheveled, begging to be consumed, bared perfectly for the moon to see all of him too. Hard evidence it was River’s hands that destroyed him, who cared to reform him.

A telling bead of precum, worked up by River’s ardent staring, tempts him to taste, swipe the tang of him away and lead him between his soft, inviting lips. Crocodile’s answer is a long moan squeezed up from his chest by the squeeze of the throat around him, and betrays exactly how much he’s enjoying himself. His stoic face is unused to being scrunched in bliss by a feverish mouth taking him down to the root with just a few, determined swallows. River takes a moment to hold him there, nose pressed against the dark, neat hair on his pubic bone, for what Crocodile believes to be a breath-stealing, head-spinning eternity—until it’s gone too soon.

He thinks he might lose his temper when that mouth pulls off completely to speak to him.

“You are so much more than I imagined. Oh,” River panted into his skin. Red, slick lips mouth up to his flushed tip to suckle and demand for more precum until it rips a haggard groan from his chest, and Crocodile gives a flushed, pissy scowl, one that demands he stop fucking around.

It hardly frightens the man between his legs, not when Crocodile’s hair has fallen from his meticulous style in damp strands over his cheeks to match the shine of sweat on his forehead. Between his knees, the heat of him nearly steams where River breathes over his sack to roll them around on his tongue too.

Crocodile wants to complain about the crawl they’ve fallen into, demand he pick up the pace, but before he can arrange thoughts on his tongue he’s rewarded by those lips slipping back over him. They fall into an easy rhythm, one that slides hot and tormentingly slow over the entire length of him with every complete bob of River’s head.

A soft, yielding “fuck” flutters out above him, anxious thighs brushing his ears, and River takes the moment to admire the crimson flush creeping into the valleys of Crocodile’s chest, the bob of his swallow around an unguarded groan. Big, sword-calloused hands cradling the curve of his skull are their own reward, as are the little, muffled moans he lets vibrate along the cock in his throat, tempting those hands to squeeze into the roots of his hair.

Crocodile puffs out a quiet chuckle, needing it to be mean but the lack of air in his lungs is a powerful enemy. “Look at you. So haughty and spitting a moment ago. How quickly you’ve become docile for me,” he says, deep in his chest as his jeweled thumb smears a drop of drool away from River’s lip, across his cheek.

Is that how it appears, captain?

River’s eyes flick open, dark as the depths of the ocean that housed creatures more dangerous than either of them, and promising to ruin him on his own pride. They steal the rest of his breath, trading air for lightning in his veins, all while never ceasing the steady rhythm of his head. One of River’s hands, the one that had contented itself to rub over the firm planes of Crocodile’s abs while he pleasured him—suddenly slipped away.

But, Crocodile hardly had the mind to count limbs, not when a tongue prods the hole in his tip, massaging his foreskin and coaxing his eyes to close, assuring him he was the one in control. A pretty thought, pretty as the man who knows the truth, the one collecting his own precum to nudge behind his balls, lower, lower still, and massage over Crocodile’s hole.

His eyes fly open, face suddenly as red as his chest, shooting up to his elbows like River can’t feel him getting even harder against his tongue. “You little—brat—”

“Push me away, then.” That mouth, that smirking mouth lay open to let his cock slap on his glossy tongue. “I’m a swordsman too, certainly no waif, but you and I both know I didn’t lay you down on this bed against your will. If I’ve overstepped—stop me. Tell me to stop, Crocodile, if those rippling muscles have suddenly failed you.”

The pleased chuckle he breathes over the tip of his cock coincides with Crocodile’s surrendering sigh, and the impossibly long line of him falls back to the pillows with the dizzying slide of River’s finger inside him.

“Add another, hurry up—”

“Ah,” he tuts at him. “I will treat you with the care you showed me. Even if you didn’t wait very long at all,” River chuckled again, and Crocodile’s teeth clicking in annoyance turns a huff of pleasure when he gets his request.

He wants to be infuriated at the impudent swordsman for pushing him down and taking liberties with his body, but he can’t feel anything beyond the eager, searing heat that keeps swallowing his semblance of thoughts through his cock, and the expert, clever fingers massaging his inner walls so thoroughly.

River holds back a teasing comment about “who’s docile now” as he opens his eyes to admire him through the tears pooling on his lashes. For all River’s calm voice spoke of control, he knows neither of them can deny their body’s reaction, from his wet cheeks at his throat being filled dutifully over and over, to his hard cock between his legs that throbs as Crocodile writhes on his fingers, long legs restless against the sheets as his sturdy body shakes and cock swells in his throat. Such the cycle continues.

Below him, Crocodile melts on the simmering heat filling his body, threatening to burst from his cock and yet it doesn’t, can’t, as it’s held back by the distracting hand leaving fingerprints on his insides, all over his swelling prostate. He’s in a loop of pleasure, riding higher to a place he hasn’t seen in so long, so out of his reach from atop his throne. And yet here he was, moaning, gasping for air on the sticky, devoted affection of the man who came to his quarters and presented himself first.

The barrage on his senses retreats suddenly, and Crocodile nearly begs for the high, wounded sound he made to remain their secret. Luckily, River looks to have no intention to tease him as he wipes his lips clean with his arm, using his slippery hand to stroke over his own cock. By the glow of the oil lamp, Crocodile can see all four of his fingers shining, but recalls no pain when they had entered him. And they must have, if the openness of his hole is to be believed, felt by a quick touch of his own fingers.

“Why did you stop?” He rasps into the humid air between them.

River answers by leaning over him, hair mostly fallen from it’s quick style, pupils blown as they keep him pinned to the pillows, all while his greedy hands knead at Crocodile’s strong thighs. “Do you believe I want you now?”

Crocodile means to fire back some quick-witted, biting retort, until his thighs are hoisted up, baring his hole and held aloft by deceptively strong arms.

“I’m sorry you haven’t come yet… Would you believe that I want you if I had let you come in my mouth, showed your seed to you on my tongue before I swallowed it?”

“You are…” Crocodile growled out, golden eyes equally blown as his hands grabbed at the sheets. “A cruel, impudent little thing.”

The calloused hands on his thighs flex. “Cruelty recognizes itself, Crocodile, and I think you need better proof of my intentions.”

“I believe you.”

His ragged gasp as he breathed in, so unlike the Crocodile that strangled control from every aspect of his life down to his pleasure, desperate and—if River was anymore bold—vulnerable, had them both snapping to each other's gaze. For a moment, only the sound of the ocean outside filled the warm room.

“I believe that you want me, and I want you. Beautiful River, handsome poet, I want you, so—” Any more words were swallowed by the moan in his chest as River surged forward, bracing his hands beside his ribs and pressing his cock inside in one firm thrust.

River’s hips meeting his stretched rim comes with Crocodile’s big hands on his body, one in his hopelessly lost hair bun, the other on his lower back to feel his muscles clench and twist. “Come on, you wanted to show me proof. Or is this pretty face the extent of you? Your pretty cock—”

He’s interrupted by the throw of his hips, an honest moan worked up from both of them when River grabs at the mattress for leverage to work Crocodile’s body harder than his fingers could ever hope.

“I am more than this pretty face,” he pants over him, one hand leaving the bed to grip his thigh and spread him wide to bury himself even deeper. “More than the swords at your disposal. I will ruin your body, your soul.”

Crocodile’s head, also hopelessly mused from it’s style, presses to the pillow with the force of his hard, steady strokes. Quiet, panting moans leave his lips in rising succession. He touches River’s bicep where one of his arms keeps him braced, fingertips scratching him gently in a way that might have been reserved for admiration if not for the drop of drool that escaped his clenched teeth. Breathing is so hard suddenly, when he can easily look down to see the poet’s pretty cock disappear inside him, his own lying neglected and useless in a puddle of it’s own pre against his stomach.

He can’t help but be impatient, especially after being denied his orgasm down River’s throat, and reaches down to stroke himself off. His breath rises again, shorter, more labored as River shifts his knees to match his attention to Crocodile’s prostate with his wrist’s efficient, choppy rolls.

“That’s it, come on. Come for me,” River coaxes him, voice rising, whining and urgent like he was the one approaching orgasm and it flings Crocodile over the edge with a punch to his diaphragm that comes out as a deep, cracked groan. His vision blurs for long moments, white and crackling at the edges, until he comes back to himself to realize the rhythmic thumping against his flank has not ceased. River’s still at it, dragging him out of the dredges of over-sensitivity and back on the road to another, stronger orgasm.

Perhaps he will drown him anyway.

“I’m sorry it look so long for you to come, but I—,” River swallows around his dry mouth, “I will make you come again, I promise.”

“You stupid poet, you beautiful—” His words hold no bite as they wheeze from his wet lips, choking on air when River threads his elbows behind his knees to spread him wider, impossibly so as he leans over him to capture his lips.

He feels himself blush to be pressed completely open, River’s soft thighs rubbing against the skin of his hips to fuck him slower, deeper than he had before, the length of his cock dragging against Crocodile’s most sensitive places for the entirety of his stroke. It made kissing nearly impossible, not when the overworked neurons in his brain are firing off at a rapid pace and his body has begun to melt into the sheets.

“Kiss me, please, I need you,” River whimpered against his tongue, like he didn’t have him folded in half, moaning on his cock and golden eyes dripping tears down his temples and into his hair. Crocodile seized him to bring them chest to chest, one hand tangled in his hair, the other gripped on his rear to press the shape of his rings into his heated skin. Dizziness crept into his vision, he knew he was flying too high, only able to wrestle a few words from his vocabulary beyond the fluttering in his chest and the boiling just beneath his skin.

“Mine, all mine. Always,” he panted, his glassy eyes causing River to wonder if he meant him or his cock. The lightning in his belly begged it was the former.

“Yes, yours. No one else’s. Only you, captain, it’s always been you,” He moaned out, nearly a sob as Crocodile’s head flopped uselessly to the pillow. In the fog of his cooked consciousness, he still felt River’s forehead press to his temple, mouth hot near his ear, begging his words to be heard clear and coherent among the humid air between them.

“I’m yours, Crocodile, only yours for as long as I live.” The rhythm of his thrusts wavered as Crocodile’s mouth dropped open, dumbfounded to feel him swell even harder inside him, right against his sweet spot. “Command me, fuck me, use me as you wish.”

The storm rising beneath his ribs burst suddenly, flooding his body to the tips of his fingers and toes, his internal muscles squeezing unbidden, and they both call each other’s name over the ocean rushing in their ears. To Crocodile, it felt so different from the orgasm he had impatiently wrung from himself earlier, hand stripping his cock while he allowed River to sweeten the deal with his dutiful stroke. But this, this, River was in control of his pleasure, fucking it deep from within the most molten parts of his core and pushing him impossibly higher with every hungry, obedient thrust.

The sweet, keening moan above him is a treat, along with the last pleas of stuttering hips pumping him deep with a liquid heat that sweeps his insides to the corners of his soul. An apology, he thinks, for the ache in his hips as River finally lets his legs fall to the side.

He contemplates scolding him, picking the pieces of his pride off the floor to remind the other man he did not have permission to come inside him, until a muted thump to the mattress captures his attention first. Beside him, River lies bathed in moonlight, wearing his sated flush like a silk chemise, and decidedly too endearing to shout at. He sighed at length, supposing he earned it, after coaxing him to come twice on his cock and hard enough the second time to hit his own face with his seed.

But who would he be if he didn’t complain a little?

“Ugh. You come into my room, make a mess of me and my bed. I don’t suppose you intend to clean up after yourself, do you?”

“Shall I use my tongue? It will only take a moment.” River jumped up to lean over him, beginning to suckle the semen off his abdomen with a happy hum, to Crocodile’s flustered outrage.

“Outrageous, mischievous—hrn.” A strangled sound fell from his tired lips when the tongue moved to lap at his hole, interrupted by Crocodile’s firm hand in the roots of his hair. He dragged him back up for a kiss, tasting himself in their shared sigh, and a fond calm settled over them as they parted with a wet sound, not unlike the waves after a storm.

Crocodile anchored his stare by the firm grip on the back of his neck. “Did you mean what you said?”

“Every word.” River answered without hesitation, and let their foreheads gently thump together. “Do with me as you wish. Forever.”

“Promises like that, to a man like me, are liable to breed hatred eventually. You will come to resent me.”

“No, I won’t. Not this time.”

He wants to ask him what he means, why his gaze is so calm, as if he’s come home from a long journey. Maybe he’ll ask him one day. But not now, when their skin is so warm where their sides brush, and the ocean outside is quiet.

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