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emchant3d · 8 days

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They say Captain Munson has a gift. That he’s blessed by a god’s touch.

His ship has survived every battle. His crew flourishes with bounty, with health and good fortune. He steers them unerringly through every storm, sailing directly into the gargantuan waves, into the lightning and rain, and comes out the other side pristine while other vessels would have been sunk, snapped and splintered on the ocean floor, crew turned to ghosts to haunt the waters.

They say he made a deal, sold his soul, sold his crew’s souls, will find his reckoning one day at the end of a sword or drowned in the sea he loves so much. They say he’s a devil of his own, that his eyes glow red and black and his teeth are sharp and fanged, nails clawed, that he slaughters innocents and bathes in their blood.

But the truth is much simpler. Captain Munson is no devil, he did not sell any souls, and he certainly isn’t blessed by any god.

Captain Munson fell in love.

He didn’t mean to. When the fishing nets are reeled in that fateful day he expects nothing more than a few meals, a couple pounds to send to the kitchens for Benny to work his magic with. He isn’t even on deck when the catch is brought in.

It’s Gareth’s frantic voice that draws him upwards, his shouting and knocking on his cabin door that has him strapping a sword to his hip before taking the stairs two at a time to see the threat.

He’s expecting a King’s ship. Maybe another pirate.

He isn’t expecting a mer.

Pale, unconscious, bleeding, sprawled on the deck, plush and soft and gorgeous, tan torso tapering down into a huge, shimmering tail. He’s breathing but it’s shallow, weak, a shell on a necklace moving faintly with each hitch of his chest.

And the crown. A simple circlet, golden and shining, tangled in his chestnut hair, gems glinting from the locks.

Mers are mythical, believed to be stories by some and history by others, but Eddie grew up hearing the tales of them every night from his mother, and the evidence is right in front of them - how can they do anything but believe?

It takes three of them to move him below deck. Eddie grips him under his arms, Gareth supports his hips, and Jeff wrangles his tail. They take him to Eddie’s quarters, the only bed big enough to fit him.

He wakes in stages, delirious from pain, snapping teeth and swinging claws when he has the strength for it and slurring rambling words when he doesn’t, head lolling on the pillow, eyes rolling back.

His injuries are strange - a band of dark bruising around his pretty throat, his back shredded, bites taken out of the dips of his sides and the meat of his tail. There’s sickness in him, but Joyce is patient. She patches him up, soothes the mer’s fever and stitches the wounds she can, bandages what she can’t, keeps it all clean, keeps it wet because apparently that’s what he needs - salt water, which makes Eddie cringe in sympathy, but only seems to ease the mer’s pain, not make it worse.

It’s a week before those pretty eyes blink open with genuine awareness in them, sharp and wary. Eddie’s taken to sitting at the mer’s side, feels a strange responsibility to him that he doesn’t want to look too closely at, and he glances up from his journal to find the other’s gaze locked on him.

“Where am I?” he croaks out, and Eddie smiles, snapping the journal shut.

“You’re aboard the Hellfire, sweetheart. Captain Eddie Munson, at your service.” He bows in his seat, and it goes over about as well as he thought it would.

There’s a lot of threats and snarling and cursing, but Eddie simply leans back, out of the mer’s reach as he crowds himself into the corner of the mattress, back pressed to the wall and sheets tangled around his tail.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tries to soothe, and the mer scoffs. Eddie can’t blame him for his caution, but he tells him the honest truth - where he was found, the state of him, how they’ve nursed him back to health.

The mer’s hand hovers over one of the nastier wounds at his side, covered in gauze, dampened with saltwater. When he cuts his eyes back to Eddie there’s a little less animosity in his gaze, and Eddie will take what he can get.

Eventually he pulls a name from that snarling mouth. Stephan. “Prince Stephan,” he begrudgingly admits once Eddie points out the crown that he’d gently worked free of his hair.

And he’s a mer, but different.

“Siren, is what I believe your kind calls mine,” Stephan says, “half and half. Mer and human.”

“Human,” Eddie muses, and Stephan confesses, warily, haltingly - he’s the King’s bastard son. Born to King Richard of the land and the Mer Queen of the sea.

“And how did the Prince of the Mer find his way into my net, hm?” Eddie asks, smiling, and Stephan rolls his eyes at him.

He’s a runaway. King Richard had come looking for his son and with his mother’s blessing Stephan abandoned his title, his home, because the King would find him eventually if he stayed, and whatever dangers he might face in the open sea would be nothing compared to what the King might use his gifts for.

“Gifts?” Eddie asks, and Stephan smiles, his pointed teeth glinting.

It’s a clear day, not a cloud to be seen, no sign of rain or bad weather. And yet as Steve begins to hum softly, a shadow crosses overhead.

It happens slowly. Stephan’s voice builds, a wordless little melody, something melancholy and soft, and the sky beyond the windows of the cabin darkens. Thunder rolls and in the distance, Eddie can see a crack of lightning.

The ship rocks as waves begin to form, the once-smooth water taking a turn. Eddie can hear the crew above deck begin to shout to one another, confusion building, growing more insistent as Stephan’s song grows, and Eddie’s stomach drops.

The siren’s voice is haunting, terrifying. Eddie’s frozen in place, meeting his eyes even as tears well in his own. He’s transfixed, can’t move, can’t speak, paralyzed with some ancient, instinctual knowing of danger, of death.

Eddie does not scare easy. But this is terror personified. This is the true threat that lives in the sea. Not the waves, not man, this. This creature who smiles at him with sharp teeth and a haunting voice, reaching towards Eddie with a clawed hand, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear in a touch that makes Eddie’s skin crawl and his heart skip and dread sink into his very bones.

He’s staring death in the face, and death is smiling.

Then Stephan quiets, and it’s over as quickly as it had begun. The sky clears in moments. The waters calm. The vessel’s heaving calms, and Eddie’s spine unlocks.

He stares at the being before him, amazed, before a slow, brilliant smile breaks over his face.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you, Prince Stephan?” he asks, and gets a smile in return.

“Call me Steve,” he tells him, and fondness begins to worm its way into Eddie’s chest.

“Then call me Eddie.” He sees Steve’s eyes flutter, and he tilts his head. “You’re tired,” he tells him, and gets a huff in response. “You’re safe here, Steve,” he tells him, and he knows he doesn’t trust him, not fully, not yet, but that’s okay. “Rest. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Steve watches him warily, but clearly the little display has worn him out. His hand finds that same wound on his side, cradling it carefully, back shifting like it hurts to sit up straight and stretch all that marred skin.

“Lay a hand on me, and I’ll eat you,” Steve warns, and Eddie snorts a laugh.

“Whatever you say, highness,” and he tugs the sheets back into place over that large tail, and lets the mer get the rest he still clearly needs.

part 2 coming soon 💕 no tag lists, sorry!

#steddie #mermay #merman steve harrington #siren steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #stevexeddie #steve/eddie #mine

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ddejavvu · 11 months

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ok so personally, Im usually so adverse to romantic interactions that even if I click on that someone is genuinely pursuing me, ill ignore it or pretend they arent. maybe a defence mechanism? idk BUT it does make for the most rabid situations and thoughts ever ever ever

imaging best friend!James and reader maybe getting into the situation in which they have to share a bed sometime. maybe its a group vacation or something. in my head - James potter is a serial humper in his sleep sometimes. hes a big guy in all aspects, and he also cant help but wanna cuddle with you to sleep!! but that also means he wakes himself up a couple times by grinding softly on u, and he feels so bad, but thankfully youve never woken up cus of it. separately, youve also learnt to not mention that you can quite clearly uh..feel him some mornings when ur both drowsy, pressed together n still groggy. and you, oh so conveniently also never mention that you kinda like how it feels. but, hey-ho.

its the middle of the night, and as usual, James is spooning you from behind, he has to be bent a little to fit his head in ur hair, and hes pressing his entire body against ur back. the air still smells of washed-off sunscreen and sea salt, and theres a fan going in the corner of the room. and this time James wakes up to YOU humping HIM. im talking, his breath hitches and everythingggg until he realises ur sleep. ur asleep and grinding back on him and ur breathing is all stuttered and he always guessed youd be a little quiet but ur little noises are so breathy and holy shit ur wet????? theres no way you get this wet.. until James realises that hes propped himself up on his arm and is just staring down at where ur moving ur hips on him and he tries to snap himself out of it by waking u up. ur still groggy but absolutely mortified when he tells you "yeah bug, you uh- y'got a little excited 'bout me in ur sleep, huh? s'okay yknow, its okay :]"

and he 100% offers to help you out. even when u say that friends arent suppose to do that, AND also mumbling about how guys normally didn't really make girls cum and mentioning abt how you always hear people say its too complicated, he just brings up how you just grinded on his lap in ur sleep, and that felt good, so, how can it not be allowed? its just a friend helping out a friend! :) and that he can definitely get u off, he'd be sooo good at it!! the only way this goes in my head is that not much shuffling around is done, all that changed is that ur on ur back now, and hes licking his bottom lip into his mouth as he looms over you slightly from ur side, his hands moving down and down. he'd definitely be tilting his head and "yeah, this part feels really good, yeah? yeah" all nodding and smiling n shit. 'best friend' James from that point on, takes any opportunity to 'help you out', he'd transition into using more than his fingers too. he was in love with you before this but now???? hes a goner.

babe thank u for blessing me with these cause i did NOT feel like writing today so i let you tell me a story and it was amazing <333

this post is 18+, minors dni.

james potter sleep slut is canon in my mind... just the way he wakes up with his big beefy arms wrapped around you while his hips move?? mhm. and he wakes up and is like ohshitohshitohshit but he doesn't wanna let go!!! so he just tries to dial himself back in, but he most likely needs a minute in the bathroom to compose himself </3

no but if you feel it in the morning.. you don't wanna point it out 'cause what if he says something like 'oh sorry i'm just really sensitive' or 'sometimes the wind makes it do that' LIKE NO. YOU WANNA KNOW IF IT'S REALLY BECAUSE OF YOU. so you just keep quiet, but in the early morning when he's sleepily begging for fivemoreminutes and isn't quite in tune with his body yet, you're definitely hyper aware of his hard on digging into your thigh or butt or hip or belly or whatever <3

when HE wakes up to YOU grinding on HIM he's mindblown.. he knows he likes you, he knows you're pretty, but he marvels at how amazing you look while dragging your hips back against his, like how could you look this amazing??

but he feels even worse watching you than he does accidentally doing it in his sleep, 'cause this isn't an accident!! he's not catching you in the act by mistake anymore, he's just watching you grind on him and getting all worked up about it, which in turn is only making him more hard. finally he decides to just wake you, smoothing your hair away from your face and kissing your cheek, murmuring your name softly until you finally rouse. and when you're blubbering sleepily at him 'why'd you wake me?' he just smiles like :] oh you were having a wet dream :] just wanted you to know :] and you're !!!!!!! WHAT !!!!!!!

you're instantly apologizing a million times but he's reassuring you like no no no!! it's okay bug, really!! happens to the best of us <3 but if you want some help w that i can help you!! i mean i've got the facilities, trust me. just say the word and we can make your dreams come true :]

you're just instantly terrified. you're shaking your head, sitting up like no, that's not what friends do. and- and it's hard! to make a girl- y'know... and he's like ?? no it's not ?? i promise i won't have a hard time with you bug.

so once you've suggested that he won't be able to do it.. he's gonna do it. he'd never ever force you to do anything against your will but the only excuses that you have are that friends don't do that (and they totally do!!! james is right now!!!!) and that it would probably be hard for him, and nothing about you not wanting it. so when he finally gets it out of you that yes you want it, but no he won't be able to help, he's gonna go to town. he begs for a chance to prove you wrong and you should have known with his super competitive nature that challenging him would be dumb, but i mean. worst case scenario he can't do it. you're already expecting that. why not??

so he tries, rubbing your pretty little clit and stroking over your folds before dipping between them, only a little upset that you're already wet because it means that he can't get you all worked up first, he can't kiss the slick out of you, he can't suck on your neck until you're wet, it's already there </3 but next time for sure, for now he's very excited about just being able to touch you

your cunt is warm and wet and everything he's ever dreamed of, but he's too nervous about overstepping to ask to eat you out, so he doesn't.. but in future, it's coming.

but he absolutely soaks in the moment, humming and cooing and crooning at you about how good it feels, asking you every time you whimper if it feels nice, if he's doing it right, if you think he'll be able to finish you off. and it's so intoxicating having him that close that you absolutely have to use all of your willpower to not kiss him while he hovers over you. he guides you through your orgasm and brings you down gently, absolutely the perfect lover, and he even asks if he can lick his fingers clean. he's like wouldn't think it was weird, would you, bug? I can clean 'em off? and when you nod he sucks them clean, humming at your taste and grinning giddily at you.

now you have a helper ! he will not leave u alone. bed sharing is a must now, and the more you sleep together, the more horny you are for him, and the more you wake up in the middle of the night, and the more he 'helps you out', and it is a cycle that you couldn't break if you tried, not that you'd ever want to.

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction #james potter smut

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 17 days

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hey ari, i’m truly having an awful night. there’s a free pass for anything that involves someone being protective against a shitty guardian/parental figure. i wish jason todd would’ve kicked my dads ass tonight.

Lee took to Alfred much more warmly, peppering him with little boy questions about dinosaurs and oddly enough... piccolos? Which made the butler wonder if there was not a single neurotypical person in the entire family.

Adorable. He was enchanted. All dimples and curls. He'd carried Alfred a mug of tea managing to only spill half of it on the floor for the boxer and the wolf hound. And to get under your feet nearly causing you to fall twice- managing to get exiled to play outside with his dog.

It was a lovely afternoon. Watching Jason be so... soft. So helplessly in love with his wife and his children. Excited to be a new father. He enjoyed doting on his wife and fussing over his kids. He was comfortable in the vintage kitchen and the narrow halls. He liked the routine. Coming home to something stable.

When you started stretching your back in your kitchen chair, Jason smiled a little, "C'mon, let's get you on the couch."

"I'm fine, I just needed to-"

"Let's please not have to take you back to the hospital," Jason coaxed, helping you to your feet. "I'll tell Lee he needs to run in sight of the bay window every so often."

You snort and let him help you, grateful that he's strong enough to catch you if you need him to. It's comforting. He's comforting. Between his bulk beside you and Boris behind you. By the time he has you on the sofa you already feel better. At least until your phone rang.

"Hello?"

Jason frowned. He could tell from the look on your face who it was and he got Alfred seated listening with half an ear. Your biological father wanted money. Again. Either to have it put on his books or your sisters.

It hardly mattered. The divorce happened. Battle lines got drawn. You chose mom Mandy chose dad. Now you raised Mandy's kids and got "everything handed to you" as far as she could tell. Never mind trusts and adoptions. Or love. Or duty.

He gave Alfred a meaningful look and took a deep breath. Your biological dad and your sister were both banned. They both had no contact orders. And the second they upset you he'd be hanging up.

Your voice cracked. And tears fell.

And gently but firmly Jason plucked the phone from your hand, "If you're that fucking worried about Mandy's books use store brand instead of name brand for your meth and cut costs. Figure it out. Call here again and I'll report you to your PO." But before he could reply he hung up.

"Jay-"

"Shh," he soothed, "don't cry baby girl."

"God I hate it."

"I know," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you. "But you're doing good. Just breathe." He broke off and wiped your face, kissing your forehead, "I can't get you a shot but I can get the baby a snack," he teased, "what do they want?"

"Milk chocolate sea salt caramel truffles," you tell him.

He grinned and kissed your nose before standing up, "Alfred, did you feel up to going to the store with me or do you want to stay and keep Y/N company?"

"Well obviously," Alfred said sipping a fresh cup of tea, "I'm going to stay here and be nosey."

"Ky it is," Jason said, "I'll take a kid and a grocery list... then maybe we won't come home with half the cereal aisle."

"We hope," you tell him smiling.

"Shh," Jason said. "Be nice to me and I'll buy more than one bag of truffles."

"You should probably do that anyway," Alfred observed. "For practical reasons."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #disowned!verse

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aryxchse · 30 days

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godly bonding day / platonic! hera x poseidon & percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n : people should give more about hera and her other siblings other than z*us fr. and call me crazy or whatever but i've always thought hera married the wrong brother 🤞🏻

warnings : hera apologist right here, poseidon and hera being sweet siblings, zeus cheating, maybe swearing

"alright mom, that's it," you said, holding both of your mother's hands. "we're having a selfcare day together."

hera sniffed, looking at you with teary eyes. zeus once again cheated on your mother, and the gossip spreads around olympus very quick. specially when your mother has little spies that follows zeus' every movement.

instead of taking revenge -simply because she was sick of it-, your mother called you to olympus for cheering her mood. and well, maybe you reminded her the revenge she took from zeus.

"selfcare day?" hera asked, tilting her head. the goddess and queen of heavens was so vulnerable in front of you. and it made you think like she was a normal mother, who was crying because of her husbands betrayal. "what is that?"

"i'll call percy and we'll take you to new places in the mortal world," you said, smiling at her. the goddess sat straight, considering the idea. "who knows? maybe he'll bring poseidon!"

hera smiled at the mention of her favorite brother. "oh i love poseidon! he's the dearest to me." you nodded at her comment, caressing her knuckles. "i know mom. today is your day, we can't let a man ruin your mood, not anymore."

hera wiped away her tears as she smiled. "oh my lovely daughter, you're so kind to me."

"of course mom," you smiled. "come on, let's go."

‎ 🦚

while you waited percy to call you to say the suprise were ready, you and hera visited multiple shops and places. hera appearently loved iced americano with chocolate chip cookies. and she loved the style old money, since she had to change her clothes to more comfortable ones.

now you guys headed to some old but vintage beach, were percy and poseidon were waiting.

hera took a sip from her third iced americano, smiling at the taste. "i sure want these in olympus," she said, stopping to take off her shoes. "their taste is amazing."

you did the same as you took a sip from your own coffee, taking the shoes inside of your bag. "i know right?" you said as the smell of the salt water started to fill your nose.

you both heard percy and poseidon talk pationetly about something, but they stopped and smiled the moment they saw you.

"hey baby," percy said, hugging your waist and kissing your cheek. you hugged him back with your free arm, smiling immediatly. "hi!"

"poseidon!" hera cheered next to you, running on the sand to hug her brother. poseidon laughed and picked hera up in his arms, turning around with her. "hera, my lovely sister!" he cheered back. "good to finally see you on the mortal world!"

"thanks to my daughter," hera answered, finally standing on her foot but still not letting poseidon go. "she helped me open my eyes."

you blowed a kiss to her as you stand next to percy, your arm still lazily hanged around his neck.

"well sister!" poseidon said, turning her around to walk around the beach. "let's have some dinner eh?"

‎ 🦚

who would've thought god of the sea made the best meal?

you all eated happily together, which was a weird sight. you and percy never thought your godly side of the family would bound this much. but well, maybe they needed a little courage.

you and percy insisted on washing the dishes, letting the divine siblings have their moment. they eventually agreed, leaving you both.

you washed the plates and handed them to percy to dry, while watching your parents laugh together from the window.

"i thought hera would never smile," percy grinned, drying some plate you gave him. you washed a fork, chuckling. "that's because she has the worst husband."

poseidon picked hera up and throw her on his shoulders, running around on the beach like two little kids. some thunders appeared but the siblings didn't cared, laughing like crazy. you and percy started laughing with them behind the window, getting happier each second.

"she really needed that." you said quietly, giving the last spoon to percy. you closed the water and percy finished drying up the spoon, putting back to it's place.

"believe me, he needed that too." percy said, stading behind you and hugging your waist. you gladly appreciated the love, hugging back his arms and resting your head against his cheek.

poseidon finally put down hera but the siblings hugged eachother, hera's laughter echoing through the beach. the lightning get really loud, but the siblings made a middle finger to the sky, clearly saying 'i don't give a fuck about you!' to their most annoying brother.

you smiled. "appearently gods need to have a bonding day too." percy nodded, kissing on top of your head.

"siblings are siblings everywhere after all." he whispered, and you chuckled.

#uh i didnt really like this but STAND HERA AND POSEIDON SIBLINGHOOD!!!#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson headcanon #pjo show #pjo tv show #perseus jackson x you #percy x you

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selfindulgentpixies · 8 months

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Soothing words and decaf

Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto one shot

When nightmares wake you up once again your boyfriends decide they can't just leave you to sit up alone. Gn!reader, reader wears glasses and has bad eyesight, not stated where in the timeline this is. It's an AU where Suguru never left though. This is really just to comfort myself because my nightmares have been bad lately and making sleep super difficult. It why i've been slow on writing stuff because i'm tired a lot. Also i couldn't decide on just one of them for this comfort fic and needed to be doted on by both. Pls excuse any typos or mistakes

You wake with a start, a stuttering in your chest and a choked gasp. You gaze blearily up at the ceiling, your current location slowly invades your senses and pushes away the personal hell your subconscious had been creating for you. There’s warm breath fanning over the crown of your head. It would probably be ruffling your bangs if not for the fact they were plastered to your forehead by the sweat. You glance to your right and see that at some point in his sleep Satoru had decided you were his personal teddy bear. Your eyes then drift to the left and you jolt slightly to find that Suguru is blinking back at you with a combination of tiredness and concern.

“Another one?” He asks, voice low and thick with sleep. This had unfortunately become routine.

You go to speak and nothing comes out the first try but upon clearing your throat slightly and trying again you let out a small. “Yeah.. Go back to sleep, Sugu.”

He huffs a little at your words and how you begin to try and wiggle out of Satoru’s arms without waking him. An impossible task given that all three of you weren’t what anyone could call heavy sleepers. Trauma will do that afterall. So it’s unsurprising when Satoru grumbles and tightens his grip on you. “You should take your own advice.” Satoru’s voice is just as gravely as Suguru’s and when you glance up you see him peering down at you with his impossibly bright eyes.

“You know I can’t do that… Let me up and the two of you can get some sleep.” You scoot up to a sitting position, Satoru's arms wrapped around your waist making your task of reaching over him to the side table to get your glasses a far harder task than it needed to be. You whine and flop on him. Fine you’d just be blind. You wiggle down and under his arm, surprised he allowed you to do so as you slide to the end of the bed to get up.

You didn’t feel like giving Satoru a chance to change his mind about letting you go so you don’t walk past him to get your glasses and instead just pad your way into the kitchen. Your shared apartment with the two men was so familiar you could probably navigate it wearing Satoru’s blindfold.

Once you’re close enough to the microwave to make out the little glowing numbers you let out a huff. It wasn’t even five am yet. You’d maybe managed to get four hours of sleep which was becoming painfully typical. Today would be another day of surviving off coffee and hopefully slipping in a nap as soon as you got a chance. Your nightmares seemed to happen less when you slept during the day.

You’re shuffling around the cupboards getting down what you need to make coffee when you hear quiet foot falls, perhaps near silent for someone else but your ears were sensitive and seemingly more so when you chose to mostly forgo being able to see. Anything beyond a couple feet away from you losing all clarity and blurring around the edges. Impressions of objects you only recognized based on familiarity.

Well mostly. “That’s the sea salt, love.” Suguru whispers against the shell of your ear as he takes the long cylindrical container from your hand to place back on the shelf and then grabs a very similar but not identical container that houses the sugar.

You grumble. “Why do we even keep them next to eachother on the shelf?” Suguru’s hair tickling your neck makes you twitch slightly but you don’t brush it or him away as he leans over you, enveloping you in his warmth, resting his chin on your head as he bends at the waist and wraps his arms around your middle.

“Normally you’re wearing your glasses and can tell the difference.” there’s the smallest hint of amusement to his voice.

You sigh. That was true. It annoys you but it’s true. You rock back on your heels and lean into his chest. “Really you should get more sleep. Go cuddle with Satoru, I’m sure he’s lonely trying to sleep alon-”

A loud yawn cuts through the kitchen as Satoru walks in. “Too late, already here.”

“Seriously you both should-”

“If we should be sleeping so should you. So either you come back to bed with us, or we’re all starting our day at this ungodly hour.” You feel Suguru’s jaw moving against the top of your head as he talks.

You frown deeply, slouching in his hold. “I… can’t sleep okay? If i go back to sleep it’ll probably just start again.”

Suguru hums and rocks the both of you back and forth. “Then it sounds like we’re all getting up then, right Satoru? “ He turns you both so you’re facing Satoru who’s much closer now.

Another yawn. “Sounds about right.” And as he says this he places your glasses on your face, bringing his own into focus for you. Satoru is beautiful as always but definitely looks like he needs more sleep. But you know very well how stubborn both he and Suguru are, they’re worse than you are.

You cave. “Fine, stay up if you want then.” You wanted to sound petulant but instead you just sound tired. Suguru Squeezes you before rising to his full height and releasing you. “Go relax, I’ll make the coffee.”

Before you can respond he gives you a small nudge in Satoru’s direction who doesn’t give you time to protest as he scoops you up and carries you toward the plush living room couch. He flops both of you down before rolling you so he’s squishing you into the plush fabric. “Satoruuuu-” You try to protest as he nuzzles into your neck. If you were more awake you might have caught on to what the two men were doing since in the kitchen Suguru put away the regular coffee and switched it out for decaf before brewing it. They still had some hope of lulling you back to sleep and caffeine wasn’t part of that. They knew you well enough that you likely just needed to be soothed and given time to get out of your head so you could be directed back to bed.

“Mmm don’t want to cuddle me?” He pouts at you.

“You’re squishing me, you big menace!”

The two of you go back and forth, you sinking back into the couch and giving Satoru his way despite complaining when what feels like suddenly Suguru is there holding two mugs of coffee and judging by the heap of whipcream on the third mug a cup of hot chocolate for Satoru. He kicks one of Satoru’s legs. “Move over and quit crushing them. “

Satoru grunts and starts to complain until he looks At Suguru and spots the mug topped with whipcream. He sits up quickly, suddenly looking angelic which earns a sigh from both you and the long haired man. You sit up and give Suguru a grateful smile as he passes you one of the steaming mugs. “Thank you, Sugu.”

“Of course.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead. He gets you to scoot over slightly and as you often do you find yourself squished between the two men. You didn’t need to be squished, the couch was big enough, Satoru just seemed dead set on not moving further than he had to.

You don’t really talk as you quietly sip at your coffee, instead listening to Satoru and Suguru talk about the upcoming day, voices low and soothing. You hardly notice when your mug is pulled from your hands and placed on the coffee table before you can spill the remnants of your drink on your lap. You blink rapidly realizing you’ve been completely zoned out only now to have Satoru’s face directly in yours. It’s brief because the next thing you know he’s picked you up for the second time that night, or rather morning. “Satoru-” You cut off in a yawn and wrap your arms around his shoulders, body shaking slightly with a stretch.

“I think it’s time we head back to bed. Suguru and I have been talking to you and you haven’t even noticed,” he says amusement clear in his voice. You can hear Suguru in the background putting your mugs in the sink before following the two of you.

“Mm sorry,” you mumble against his shoulder, your glasses being pushed askew though you couldn’t care less. You feel more than hear Satoru laugh. And it feels like in the next blink he’s laying you back in bed, and gently slipping your glasses off before crawling in after you, wrapping you in his arms. It’s only a couple moments later that Suguru follows. A rough warm hand sliding under your sleep shirt to splay over your stomach.

You’re finally back asleep then, safely tucked between the two of them where no harm can come to you, even if your dreams make you feel otherwise. The two of them will always be there to remind you that you’re safe.

@nanamikentoseyebags @strawberrystepmom @icy-spicy

@gojoest

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #gn!reader #jjk x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader x geto #rossi writes

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merakiui · 2 months

Note

AAAAA ok so. You're one of my favorite authors here on Tumblr and slkssnlssksn I'm so nervous waaaa thanks for taking your time to brainrot with us <3 I'm in love with your writing and your delicious concepts and how you execute them oh god and when you write about stinky greasy incel Idia OK I'm gonna stop and actually order aaa

Can I please get assorted macaroons with a lacy lingerie along with a hint of sea salt caramels and a finishing touch of a pineapple parfait with Floyd and Jade, together? Something sweet and cute but with a lingering feeling of uneasiness <3 Hope it's well-ordered! Please and thank you very much!! 🥹

yandere!jade leech x (gender neutral) reader x yandere!floyd leech cw: yandere, unhealthy relationship/behaviors, drugging, implied captivity, brief mentions of implied nsfw, obsession note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ᴊᴀᴅᴇ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ & ꜰʟᴏʏᴅ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ

☆ Your “wedding” was unofficial, a quiet ceremony without an audience. Jade dressed you for the occasion, prettying you up as if you were a doll. You certainly felt so as you watched your reflection in the mirror, drifting in and out of a daze. Floyd poked at your shoulder to rouse you, giggling about his “sweet, sleepy Shrimpy.” When the wedding bands were slid on your ring fingers—the left for Floyd and the right for Jade—it became official. They kissed you on both cheeks and promised you a future filled with love and happiness. You couldn’t protest; there was no room for such a thing, not when Floyd’s mouth was already closing over yours.

☆ The first five days are for Floyd, and the next five will be Jade’s. They planned it together, all with your and their shared interests in mind. The first five days of your honeymoon are spent at a tropical resort. You delight in local cuisine and beautiful sights, allowing the twins to hold your hands while you walk between them. They spoil you rotten, buying all sorts of clothes and jewelry to add to your wardrobe, trinkets that catch your eye, sweets you seem to fancy. Money has never been an issue, which is why everything feels so grand and lavish. You’re taken to the beach, to a quiet, desolate strip that few tourists know of. Towels are laid out; an umbrella is propped. Floyd drags you towards the sea, eager to shed his human form and swim with you. Jade reads in the shade, occasionally glancing up from his book to watch you.

☆ As the sun shifts through the sky, you tire yourself out. Between swimming with Floyd, sunbathing alongside Jade, and indulging in a picnic with both, you’re plenty sluggish by the day’s end. They snap your picture just as you feel yourself falling, giggling to each other about how cute you look. The twins intend to capture many of your best (and possibly worst) moments during the entirety of this honeymoon. When the secret contents of your lunch catch up to you and render you sleepy, you assume it’s just the result of a long day sapping your energy. It makes you pliable, has you dragging them into bed when you’re oscillating between slumber and wakefulness. The camera shutters, capturing you curled up against Floyd in bed—perfectly, peacefully asleep.

☆ The twins take turns cooking for you. Mornings are for Floyd. He prepares all types of breakfasts, all with your favorites. You think he has too much fun in the kitchen because some meals are decorated cutely—pancakes looking like cats and bears and fruit cut into stars and hearts. Jade takes care of lunch and snacks throughout the day. They work together on dinner. It’s a guarantee that you’ll always feast on delicious meals regardless of which twin cooks. Strangely, the meals are so delicious that they leave you sleepy or, in some cases, achingly hot. The twins take good care of you whenever this happens. Maybe something just didn’t agree with your stomach… It’s nothing to worry about. They’re here for you.

☆ As the days wear on, you find yourself swamped in love. Whether you’re enjoying mornings down at the beach, exploring and shopping in town, touring popular destinations, or enjoying drinks on the balcony at sunset, the twins are always by your side. Floyd clings, his arm perpetually wrapped around your waist. Jade likes to slide his hand into yours, holding it with such a gentle fondness. He kisses your knuckles softly, eyeing the rings on your fingers with a pleased smile.

☆ Jade booked quite the quaint cabin for his half of the honeymoon. For the next five days, the three of you will see endless, sprawling pines from your spot in the mountains. He’s got a vague itinerary in mind, but it’s subject to change as you get through these five days. Surprises are more than welcome. The cabin is so cozy, equipped with all the necessities for a trip such as this one. It even has a fireplace. Jade is much too eager to gather and chop firewood even though it’s already supplied.

☆ He takes you out on hikes through the woods, pointing out flora and fauna as you encounter them. His eyes are sparkling the entire time. Floyd’s not as into it as Jade is, but he does enjoy walking alongside you and taking pictures of your most candid moments. You’ve been feeling groggy ever since breakfast, so you’re not nearly as alert as you usually are. Floyd takes this as his opportunity to snap your photo when you least expect it and to steal quick kisses. Jade thinks it’s so cute that you can hardly keep your eyes open. He promises the lot of you will turn around and head back after he gathers just a few more mushrooms for tonight’s dinner. You’re lying down for a nap by the time you make it back, the sun dipping below the horizon. You think you feel the bed depressing under Jade’s weight, his hands ghosting over your clothes to help change you into something comfortable. You let it happen.

☆ This place is oddly isolated. The locals are sweet, though. When Jade tells them you’re here on honeymoon, they all smile and tell you to have fun, to enjoy these special moments, to feel lucky that you have two husbands who adore you so very much. You thank them with a pleasant smile. Jade and Floyd keep their hands on you beneath the table during lunch. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. They make sure of that. And if you seem paranoid, they wave it off casually. Jade tells anyone who asks that you just love the variety of mushrooms here, especially the fun kinds. You’re not sure what he means until much later when you’ve digested your meal and your vision blurs. Jade’s there to steady you before you can fall over, petting your head in that affectionate way and cooing at you to calm down. It’s your honeymoon. You deserve to relax. His sharp, overly sweet smile is all you see in your dreams.

☆ Honeymoons are especially exciting because they come with amenities fitting for the occasion. A complimentary bottle of wine, luxury chocolates, condoms… Floyd tosses that last one aside. You won’t need them. If you insist on using protection for whatever reason, Jade will ease your worries with a placid smile. He’ll indulge your request. He wears one, yes, but then it’s not a guarantee that this one hasn’t been tampered with in some way. You’ll never know. Floyd’s a bit more difficult to convince. He adores cumming inside and then felching it out of your slick hole. You shiver through it all, clawing at the sheets as you melt beneath them. Your husbands pamper you excessively, so don’t think about anything and just enjoy yourself.

☆ The mountains are peaceful. Unlike the tropical paradise you previously came from, things are slower here. You enjoy watching the sunrise cut through the trees in the mornings, sitting at the window with Jade and Floyd. You sleep late into the afternoon, sandwiched between both of them. Floyd’s an early riser, so breakfast is always waiting for you when you and Jade eventually wake. It’s quiet bliss. You sit and sketch nature alongside Jade in the afternoon, who adores every little line you make with your pencil. He tells you so, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth when you pout and insist his is better. There’s no competition here, and even if there was he will always love yours more. When night falls Floyd prepares a campfire. You roast marshmallows for s’mores. Floyd dances around the firepit, singing gleefully and pulling you up from the log to dance alongside him. Firelight reflects off of your rings. It’s a wonderful honeymoon.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #yandere floyd #tw: drugging #lunar love hotel 2023

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mathmodder · 5 months

Text

youtube

Ocean Life Mod by MathModder (In Progress)

What you need to know:

This mod seamlessly integrates oceanic creatures into your game map, spawning naturally in the vast expanse of the ocean. Featuring Whales, Dolphins, Sharks, Seals, and various accompanying effects, the experience is enhanced as some animals gracefully breach the water's surface while others elegantly swim near the shore.

How do I make them appear in the ocean?

If your world already has the sailing boat effect like in Sunset Valley, they will appear naturally, spawning little by little without crowding your ocean.

For worlds that don't have this effect, you may be adding the "sailboats" effect to the CAW to make them appear.

There is another way you can do it without needing to go to CAW, which I will explain in a soon-to-be-released video, so in your save you can manually place it without having to edit the world.

How many files will there be?

Will be a maximum of 2 to 3 files.

It is worth mentioning that some files maybe will need to be placed in the Overrides folder and others in the Packages folder, they will all be specified at launch.

Is this mod compatible with other effect mods?

Yes, it will be compatible.

Bugs:

Animals always spawn at sea level. In case your city is very flat in relation to sea level, some whales might occasionally leap high and appear on land, but this seldom happens as land surfaces in worlds are usually a few meters above sea level.

Release date:

Early January 2024 Early Access for Patreons December 2023

Here is the list of animals and other effects that will be included in the mod:

Kraken (From Island Paradise Expansion Pack)

Sharks (From Island Paradise Expansion Pack)

Great White Shark

Tiger Shark

Lemon Shark

Whale Shark

Hammerhead Shark

School of fish

Humpback Whale

Dolphin

Beluga

Manta Ray

Seal

Sea lion

Sea Turtle

Sperm Whale

Salt Water Alligator

Pilot Whale

Sting Ray

Reef Shark

Narwhal

Killer Whale "Orca"

Sail boats

Water buoy

All the submerged fish from diving spots from the Island Paradise Expansion Pack will appear in the shallow waters near the shore

Want to support? Be a Patreon and get Early Access! Math Modder | The Sims 3 Mods and MO-MO-MORE! | Patreon

If you have any questions, leave them in the comments and I will add them to this post!

#sims3 #sims 3 mod #oceanlifemod #effects #sims 3 mods #the sims 3 mod #mathmodder #ts3 wip #Youtube

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ghcstao3 · 8 months

Note

i need lifeguard ghost and dumbass soap 🙏🙏

i am happy to oblige 🙏

“Y’know, Soap—“

Soap thinks Gazis talking. Has probably been doing so for quite some time already, but Soap has been staring at the lifeguard for just as long, and he can only pay attention to so much at a time.

He’s a good friend otherwise, he swears.

He’s just… distracted.

“Aye, sure,” Soap says halfheartedly. He doesn’t know what he’s agreed to, if anything.

“You’re not even listening, mate.”

Soap hums. He watches sunlight catch dampened blond curls. “Do y’think if I went out and pretended to drown, he’d give me mouth to mouth?”

Gaz scoffs. “There’s far easier ways of getting his attention, you know. You are aware of that, right? Like, you could just walk up and—”

“But he’s on the job, Gaz,” Soap whines. He finally spares a glance to his friend. “I cannae distract him while he’s working and saving lives, or whatever.”

Gaz rolls his eyes. “You’d be just as well wasting his time by pretending to die, mate.”

Soap groans, flopping back onto his towel. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m realistic,” Gaz says. Soap squints up at him as he gradually climbs to his feet, dusting the sand off his swim trunks. “Why don’t I go talk to him for you, then? No schemes required.”

Soap shoots up, wide-eyed and immediately begging Gaz not to do so, but his friend is already walking toward the absolute giant of a lifeguard. Soap scrambles after him.

“Gaz! You absolute—“

Soap’s foot suddenly catches wrong on a mound of sand and his ankle buckles beneath him, a sharp pain shooting up his leg as he collapses, cursing the whole way down.

He winces as he cradles his foot, inspecting how his ankle swells when a large shadow falls over him.

“You right?” An unfamiliar voice asks.

Soap scowls, prepared to peer up at the stranger and spit back, Do I look right?, until said stranger appears to be the lifeguard he’d been watching for a better part of the afternoon.

“I—I’m—“ Soap stammers. He swallows thickly, swiping his tongue over his lips. “I tripped.”

Perfectly-manicured eyebrows are raised. It’s unfair, Soap thinks, that someone could look so attractive while looking so unimpressed. At him, nonetheless.

“You… tripped?” The lifeguard echoes.

“Aye.” Soap grimaces. “And… possibly sprained my ankle.”

The lifeguard hums. He drops into a squat, looking closer at Soap’s injury. As he grows closer, Soap can only smell sea salt and a dash of something else. It’s the kind of scent he’d like to bottle up and keep forever.

“Looks sprained, all right,” the lifeguard grunts. “Maybe start with that next time, yeah? Here, let’s get you some ice.”

He offers out a calloused palm to Soap. His hand is pleasantly warm.

Soap is helped to his feet. A strong arm then unexpectedly wraps around his waist (okay, maybe not unexpected, Soap did need him for support) before he’s urged toward the proper lifeguard station.

In his periphery, he can see Gaz’s stupid smug look as he trails behind from a distance. It doesn’t help that Soap can feel the telltale tingle of a blush down his neck and back.

Despite the rough voice and appearance, the lifeguard is gentle in his care. He finds ice for Soap’s foot, asks for Soap’s name and information, gets Soap’s leg elevated.

Soap learns the lifeguard’s name is Simon, watches as he switches places with whoever had been at the station before their arrival, observes as he returns to work while Soap rests with the ice pack.

Gaz is allowed to join him, at some point, though he doesn’t stay long. Just pokes fun at Soap, hands over his forgotten phone, and tells him to text when he’s ready to go home.

Soap also catches Simon eyeing him once or twice. Chalks it up to him being dutiful, making sure Soap is alright. Soap ignores the fact that it seems more like a glare when Gaz is around offering friendly touches, smiles, and jokes.

It’s almost disappointing, when the ice pack has become thoroughly melted. Soap shifts in his spot, which immediately gets Simon’s attention, the lifeguard rushing over to check up on Soap.

“Everything good?” He asks.

Soap nods. Even as Ghost inspects the swelling, Soap is staring into the warmth of his wonderfully brown eyes.

“Your… friend, he’ll drive you home?”

Soap nods again, however this time more stilted. Hesitant.

“Unless…” Soap starts, attempting a smile, “When do you finish your shift?”

Those eyebrows raise again. “About two hours. Why?”

“Well,” Soap says. He feels as if his heart will beat out of his chest. “What if… you drove me home? And maybe stayed for dinner? Call it a date?”

His voice grows quieter with every suggestion, but Simon never seems to falter. He only ever searches Soap’s face like he’ll find something there.

Finally, Simon shrugs. “I don’t see why not,” he says. The hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “I’ll fetch you another ice pack in the meantime.”

Oh, Soap is so screwed. But then again, had he known spraining his ankle would work, maybe he’d have done it a lot sooner.

Not that he’ll ever tell Simon that, of course.

#ask #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap #writing #alternate universe

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hero-israel · 3 months

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So I've seen a lot of talk from people who allow that Israel was justified to attack Gaza after October 7th, but they feel that Israel still attacked too indiscriminately, killed too many Palestinians, and destroyed too much of Gaza. Two particular hangups I've seen most commonly are the idea that Israel should have done a "tactical counter-terrorism" action rather than a ground invasion, and a specific objection to Israel dropping 2000 pound bombs on Gaza specifically. I don't feel that I know enough about military tactics, so I don't know how legitimate it would have been for Israel to go into Gaza "tactically" or to drop smaller bombs, but I suspect Hamas would be a lot stronger than it is currently, and the same people would still be tut-tutting Israel's actions (if not calling them out with equal outrage). It's very frustrating

Everyone wants a better alternative but nobody describes what it is. Reminds me of the recent post about the Houthis - "don't bomb them, you need to find a way to get rid of the Red Sea embargo that only kills the badguys and nobody else." Okay, I'll just ask the genie of the lamp to magic them away. There are no options for going into Gaza that aren't utterly horrible. Hamas knows this, it was the whole point of their trap, and it is working.

Here's a fair-minded, moving essay by a Gazan Palestinian saying Israel needs "targeted, low-intensity, long-term operation[s] that could sustainably reduce Hamas’ military capabilities and create conditions to introduce a new administration in Gaza," and also admitting "tunnel warfare is dirty, complicated, costly and requires lengthy efforts and campaigns, not the short and swift operations upon which Israel’s military doctrine is built."

IOW, "go in and kill Hamas and destroy everything they have - but don't kill anybody else. Find a way to do it slower and smaller and neater, but still make sure you win."

It doesn't work that way. The tunnels are obviously boobytrapped, how are you supposed to order men in? The problem isn't expense, the problem is failure. Also a slow, prolonged ground campaign would require a lasting re-occupation, another lose-lose. Israel has purportedly been using the 2,000 pound bombs as bunker-busters to collapse the tunnels - maybe that's working, but it also kills the hell out of people on the surface, again part of the trap. I am disappointed that the IDF hadn't spent every waking hour the last decade building some technical gizmo that could make the tunnels uninhabitable, some kind of seismic or ultrasonic whatzit. I said a while back that I was in favor of flooding the tunnels and fixing the environmental consequences later. I've got messages in my inbox now urging me not to take that stance, that Israel should not be seen as "salting the earth," but it doesn't matter since it seems Israel isn't actually doing it, for whatever reason, so there's no point in a Tumblr blog taking a stance either way.

Tom Friedman is another useless Boomer leftover from the '90s and his "philosophy-of-cab-drivers" shtick is laughable, but he actually raised a good point here:

Netanyahu, I would argue, doesn’t want to win. He wants to be winning, OK, that is, he wants to be able to say, we’re winning. We’re winning. We’re winning. It’s just around the corner. But he doesn’t want to actually win because, if the war actually ends, two things are going to happen. Then he can no longer avoid what is the new political end state. And I believe there will be an eruption, a massive eruption, of Israeli anger at him that I hope and pray will drive him from power because I believe he is not only the worst leader in Israel’s history. I believe he’s the worst leader in Jewish history.

And that’s a long history. And what is Netanyahu’s calculation? It’s very simple. If he is not in power and has to face the conclusion of his trial and three corruption charges without the protection and influence that comes over the judiciary from being in power, he has a very good chance of going to jail. People forget. Israel jailed a president and a former prime minister. They’re not afraid to do that. And he does not want to go to jail. And he does not want to give up power.

And so this is a terrible situation where Israel is in a existential war, and its prime minister has basically dual loyalties, one to the state and one to himself. And at every turn, he is prioritizing himself.

I wish I could totally rule out the possibility that Netanyahu is going to try to drag this out until Trump's inauguration next year. I can't.

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thisisallthehattersfault · 4 months

Text

Someone makes a choked, shocked sound. Someone else yelps. It occurs to Ace, somewhere between the howling in his ears and the ache in his lungs and the taste of salt and iron flooding his mouth, that this is probably pretty surprising for his brothers to witness. Maybe even downright upsetting.

The thing is, Ace was wading into the jungles on his own as early as four years old. Dadan taught him how to do basic shit like talk and wipe his ass, but he honestly didn't have a ton of human interaction before meeting Sabo. And the thing about Sabo was that he had more than enough human interaction for the both of them. Ace learned some manners from Makino, but while Sabo was still around, there wasn't really any reason to get... good, at people.

But then Sabo died, and Ace needed to teach himself not only to talk his way out of trouble but also how to be the nice brother, how to treat Luffy with the softness he needed and deserved, how to gentle his hands and his voice and his words. So Ace did that, because he needed to, and it turned out to actually be pretty useful for dealing with people when he wasn't actively looking for a fight. So he stuck with it.

Which is all to say that by the time he'd joined up with Whitebeard, Ace was as close to tame as he had ever been. Almost downright domesticated.

Ace snaps his head to the side, putting some real momentum into it, heaving with all his weight until something tears. When he drops to his feet he springs right back up again, lunging. He spits out his mouthful as he goes, lets his jaw drop open.

The thing is, Ace is a child of the wilderness. He raised himself among that wilderness, and then he raised Luffy among that wilderness. He's a son of the jungle at heart, no matter how good he's gotten at pretending to be a person.

The sea-stone cuffs are chaffing his wrists. He feels tired and heavy, but he doesn't need his fire to be dangerous. Doesn't even need his hands.

Teeth find an artery. Body-hot blood sprays his face as Ace bites down, lock-jawed and snarling. Rears back and rips.

Another marine goes down. Ace spits out a chunk of the man's throat and is already rounding on a third. Notices, with a vague annoyance, that he's gonna need to find a toothpick -- there's a scrap of tendon or something caught in his teeth.

Mmm. Boar. They had pork for dinner, ah, the other night? Three days ago? Something like that, but it doesn't taste the same as wild boar does. And anyway, meat on the Moby is always overcooked. Ace is allowed to eat blue steak, but everybody always yells at him when he tries to steal bites of poultry or Sea King or whatever else while it's still tender and bleeding. This fight is giving Ace a real craving!

Duck. Lunge. Bite down, hard, thunder of a rabbit-quick pulse against his tongue, bulge of tender flesh against his soft palate. Iron and salt in his mouth.

Fear has a flavor. It is bitter and acrid, reminiscent of char, and Ace hadn't liked it much when he was young and still learning how to hunt. It stiffens up the meat, too, makes it kinda chewy. Somewhere along the line, he'd acquired a taste for it, though. He still marks it as a point of pride, his ability to hunt and kill prey without it ever knowing he was there, roasting something that is tender-sweet and gives easily under his teeth -- but the taste of fear isn't so bad either. Sometimes he even prefers it, gets a craving for it. Like wild boar, he hasn't had it in a while. Maybe he'll chase down his own dinner tonight.

Ace rears back. Muscle fibers split, skin stretches until it snaps. A heave, and a body crumples to the ground, gurgling. He gnaws kind of idly on his mouthful while he catches his breath, snorting blood out of his nose and straining his ears. Sounds like the fight's over, then.

Another lump of trachea gets spat into the dirt. Ace turns to face his brothers, counting heads -- good, it looks like nobody got hurt too bad, everybody is still standing! He grins. Ah, they're all pretty pale though, that's a little bit concerning, he hopes nobody's in shock. He learned from Marco that that can happen to anybody, even if they've been in a whole lot of fights.

"Hey!" Ace chirps. "Is everybody okay?" His wrists are killing him. Also, he really needs a shower. He's got blood in his ears, how the hell did that happen? But first he jogs over to where the others are all standing, clumped together, still just. Kinda staring at him.

Okay. Concerning. "You guys alright?" He asks again, lower. "Is anybody hurt? What happened?"

"Ace, man," Deuce says. His voice sounds kind of shaky. He drags a hand through his hair, fucking it up even worse than it already is. "What the fuck was that?"

#One Piece #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #feral jungle child ace my beloved #cat in human body ace my beloved #Do you think ace has ever proudly presented whitebeard #with dead marines or enemy pirates or whatever #the way a cat presents their humans with a bird they caught?#Do you think ace gets lectured about the dangers of cannibalism and blood-born disease #because he ends up with human blood in his mouth during fights so often #and he gets offended and confused every time the conversation comes up #he's not a cannibal! He doesn't EAT people! What's wrong with you!#he's just fighting!!! That's all!!!#Marco tries to explain that blood in the mouth is blood in the mouth no matter how the blood got there #Ace is. Not listening.#Luffy does this too btw #Sabo did this once before his memories came back #and got the blood born disease lecture #and then he gets his memories back and goes right back to biting people #because it's What Ace Would Have Wanted

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months

Note

While we’re on the Diasomnia ice cream au, it reminds me of those unicorn and mermaid themed food in the 2010s. The tie die stuff and blue purple with sparkles. In cupcakes, in ice cream, everything. Does the Diasomnia ice cream parlor have a unicorn and mermaid flavor like that? A dragon flavor to fit its theme?

[Referencing this post and this post!]

… I think you and this ice-cream brand were on the same wavelength 😂 They even have a “dragon dream” flavor, which is scarily on-brand for Diasomnia too! Sebek would probably be so proud to serve that up~

This got me thinking, what if their parlor had their own “themed” flavors like this?? Maybe an ice-cream flavor for the nocturnal fae, so it’s a rich dark chocolate speckled with bits of toasted marshmallow to look like a starry night sky?? Ooh, or amusing flavor for each dormitory??? Or even the individual student! I think Silver and Lilia in particular would be happy seeing people and places come together on the plate like that.

They could even do flavors inspired by different cultures and their cuisine (which is something I’ve seen irl ice-cream parlors do)! Lilia’s worldly knowledge could come in handy here—just don’t let him near the ice-cream machine or the ingredients!! They could incorporate spices from the Scalding Sands, or do their own take on the stretchy ice-cream Malleus tried there. What about all the fruits from abroad, like Silk Melon?? Those could work great as a flavor or a topping. What about ice-cream infusing flowers from the Queendom of Roses? Cacao from the Sunset Savanna? Sea salt from the Coral Sea? Apples from Harveston? Grapes from Fleur City? Twisted Wonderland is so vast and has a wide spread of dishes and produce to consider for frozen desserts 🤤

#twst #twisted wonderland #Diasomnia #Malleus Draconia #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #notes from the writing raven #twst AU #AU #twisted wonderland AU

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 14 days

Note

I totally love ur interpretation of alphas smelling kinda nasty it's not my thing but it's very cool and fun!!! (Pls share where you disagree with me I love hearing other opinions)

For some reason to me, omega! Price is fresh baked bread. Like it just seems correct to me idk why

Beta! Price is herbal. Maybe w some very slight powdery notes. But mostly like tea and old books. The smell is on the warmer side even tho I tend to see beta scents as more... cold? If that makes any sense

Alpha! Price is either a sharp, pine scent. Like a Christmas tree farm. OOOOOR this really yummy perfume I have called Jazz Club by replica. It's such a good scent and I feel like either price or ghost fit the vibe of it.

-🔪

Interesting!!! Also Pine Price? Yes yes??!??! 🫵🫵🫵

(I will be highjacking this to post my own hcs!)

(UPDATED) The 141's Scents in an A/B/O AU: Depending on Presentation

Follow-up on these two posts:

As a reminder, these two posts follow a theory of mine that:

Alphas smell so strong and overpowering, bordering on just smelling Bad™️;

Betas smell natural and comforting (average, no major complaints);

Omegas smell sickly sweet and so overwhelming it could make someone ill.

Johnny

Omega Johnny smells like the syrup that surrounds and preserves canned fruit. Canned peaches especially.

Beta Johnny smells like the sea. Salt water, seaweed… that kind of thing.

Alpha Johnny smells like shoe shiner, or another product like that. Maybe wet paint or varnish?

Kyle

Omega Kyle smells like something warm and cosy and gooey that melts in your mouth. My brain is saying honey or honeycomb, caramel or toffee maybe?.

Beta Kyle smells like freshly cut grass, and ivy. Especially when the freshly cut grass is damp too.

Alpha Kyle smells like nearly vinegary and acidic. The best way I can say it is... strong wine that has just started fermenting.

Simon

Omega Simon smells like talc/baby powder. Makes you wanna bury your face in him and sniff like you do to a newborn baby.

Beta Simon smells like old books with yellowed pages. Not necessarily musty or bad.

Alpha Simon smells of black pepper.

ALTERNATIVELY:

Omega Ghost wears scent blockers. You'd never know what he smells like because he doesn't let you. (It's vanilla sugar)

Beta Ghost smells of freshly carved wood furniture, unfinished and unvarnished, still full of splinters and rough edges.

Alpha Ghost smells strongly of burning. Like a campfire, a forest fire, maybe gasoline or sulphur.

John

Omega John smells like lemon merengue. Sickly sweet and tangy at once, with a softness that melts in your mouth.

Beta John smells like a forest, maybe a rain forest, but I could also see him smell of pine and very obviously so. But the kind of pine that people sometimes mistake for mint?

Alpha John smells like rusted iron and dirt... Which a lot of people confuse with fresh blood. Especially when he's angry and his scent mutates.

#asks #🔪 anon #141 a/b/o #a/b/o headcanons #cod headcanons #simon riley headcanons #kyle garrick headcanons #johnny mactavish headcanons #john price headcanons #john price #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley

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oogaboogasphincter · 23 days

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would u do a part 2 of after the beep when bunny gets home from work? because it’s very much delicious and i ate it up with a little salt and pepper

Stress Relief | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

🩷 hiii anon! 🥺 i can’t even begin to apologize for how long this took me to get to you, i’m so beyond thankful for your patience <3 i hope i delivered for you! 🫶

After an agitating day, your boyfriend Dieter helps melt all your worries away by delivering on the dirty promises he left in your voicemails earlier that morning.

word count/warnings: 4.9k+ words EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY MDNI! // hurt (reader has a terrible horrible no good very bad day) then comfort, reader and dieter have a verbal argument (in which reader throws a pillow at dieter) but it’s quickly resolved, phone sex mention, dieter threatens to blackmail your boss lol, anal play (f!receiving; fingering, licking), anal sex (f!receiving), masturbation (f), oral (m receiving), recreational drug use (weed, reader and dieter both use but it’s not a factor in their consent), insane amount of pet names (baby, kitty, bunny, sweetheart, sugar, lady, girl) // ao3 link

(this can be read as part 2 to after the beep but it can also be a standalone!)

“Dieter!?”

You shout as you wrench the door open with your rain-slicked hand and kick it closed behind you, leaving a muddy bootprint on the crisp white wood. The roaring thunder fails to drown out your enraged call, but you’re left unanswered nonetheless. The house Dieter is staying at - one of his actor friend’s vacation homes - is darkened by the storm outside and seems to sigh at your anger, upset that you roused it from its storm-induced slumber. But Dieter’s rental car is in the driveway, so you know your boyfriend is here somewhere. You yank your soaked jacket off and don’t bother finding a peg for it, throwing it on the hideous accent chair that probably cost more than your rent.

Despite the boisterous thunder, the quiet inside swells to an intimidating glower. By now Dieter should’ve come lumbering out of whatever pit of candy wrappers or wrinkled pajamas he plunged himself into, but the air remains undisturbed. You keep your footsteps light as you walk around the unfamiliar house, peeking in and scanning each room for him.

“Hey, Diets?” you ask another room, devoid of any activity. Your anger has softened now, eaten away by a growing concern of what Dieter could’ve possibly gotten himself into between when you left to go to work this morning and now. You know he was upset that you were leaving, but he always is. Hell, his voice gains a whiney edge when you just want to leave his grizzly embrace for all of thirty seconds to go to the bathroom. He left you those deliciously vile voicemails earlier in the day, detailing exactly what his erotic plans were for you later this evening, but it had been radio silence since then.

More calls, no answers. Your mind races with options, getting more worrisome as your brain’s overthinking cogs are given more unresolved time to spiral with. Did he go meet up with a friend and forget to text you? Did he get let go of by a project, a studio - god forbid it isn’t his lawyer - and he’s drowning his sorrows with some chosen vice? Did he make one too many wrong friends on one of his many esoteric adventures and they have come back to haunt him?

You circle back to the living room, taking out your phone to call the friend that owns this house. Maybe Dieter got picked up by them to have drinks and that’s why his rental is still here? You dial the number with a crease in your brow, and as you lift the phone to your ear and it starts to ring, you spot your dastardly lover: dead asleep on the couch, curled into himself. Only his muss of graying curls bobs from the surface of a sea of pillows and blankets with every light snore.

Your rage is rekindled to its fullest extent as a bolt of lightning cracks across the sky outside. You swear you can feel your eye twitch as you stand drenched from head to toe in rain before your dozing boyfriend, swaddled in cozy, dry warmth.

“Dieter!” You take one of the pillows and lob it at him, hitting him right on the head. You don’t feel bad because you know it didn’t hurt him and it irks you when his eyes burst open, holding his hand to his forehead like it did. He blinks slowly, his eyelashes sticking together with sleep as he mumbles quietly, “What the fuck?” Then his eyes - those irritatingly gorgeous puddles of melted chocolate - widen when they take you in. His expression morphs into compassion and he shakes the blankets off, stumbling to his feet with lingering drowsiness.

“Bunny, what happened?” he asks, reaching for your arms to hold you. You take a step back from him, still steaming with anger. You get even more irritated when you feel the hot tears that prick your eyes every goddamn time you get upset. Stifling them back, you straighten your back and unleash your anger.

“What happened? What happened is that I stayed late at work, even though my boss was being a fucking asshole, and when I went to leave, my car battery died, and since I stayed late, everyone else had already left, and my boyfriend didn’t answer my fucking calls!” You jab a finger into the air, aiming at his chest. “So I had to leave my car at work because no tow or rental company would help me, and I walked here in the fucking pouring-down rain!”

You turn on your heel and slip against the marble floor, which you honestly should’ve seen coming but you’re too irate to think rationally right now. Dieter reaches his arms out again, wanting to steady you, but you beat him to it and stomp away angrily. With your face hidden from his sight now, you let your tears silently flow down your cheeks and blend with the fat raindrops on your neck. Dieter follows behind you, quickening his pace to match yours and subsequently slides in his slippers in your wet wake. He tries to get you to stop, sympathetically calling out to you by name.

You beeline for the bedroom and lunge into the adjoining bathroom. Just as Dieter catches up to you, he’s pleading, “Bunny, wait, just let me-”

You shut the door in his face and lock yourself in, leaning your back against it and crying into the darkness. You let yourself sob out loud, releasing all the pent up anger, frustration, sadness and shame you’ve been holding in all day and that hit its climax when you started arguing with Dieter.

Your sweet, beloved boyfriend.

The two of you haven’t officially labeled yourselves as of yet, but you know it’s more than the booty calls it began as. You… care about him. You never thought you’d see the snarky, charming jerk as anything but. However, over the past two and a half years you’ve shared a bed with him (among various other furniture and locations), he’s revealed a soft vulnerability that you were convinced he faked in order to come off to the public as empathetic, intellectual. But he’s the real deal; all those philosophical musings, whether fueled by questionable substances or not, were spoken from his heart. That four letter word that scares the daylights out of you both rings in your head, but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

Just because you don’t have the wherewithal to vocalize your feelings right now, it only serves to engorge the guilt you have for shutting Dieter out, both literally and figuratively. He’s only trying to help you, trying to provide a safe space for you to lash out, cry, or forget about your grievances, like he always does. With a sniffle and a deep sigh, you open the door and jump a little when he’s standing right there; he was waiting for you to be ready. He never left.

His genuine care for you makes your eyes well up and flood again, your voice hoarse as you begin, “I-I’m sorry, I just…”

Dieter holds his hand up in a sign of peace and softly interjects when you trail off, “Hold on. Before you say anything more, sweetheart, know that you have nothing to apologize for.”

Your last bit of resolve is blown to smithereens and you practically fall into his arms, where he catches you and envelopes you in his warmth. Openly sobbing again into his chest, Dieter presses his warm mouth against your temple and just holds it there for a moment, letting his touch calm you as he caresses your damp hair away from your face. When your spluttering gasps subside, he speaks quietly and compassionately, “I’m the sorry one. I had the balls to bother you earlier, knowing you were stressed and busy, and then being the lazy asshole I am, I fell asleep and was dead to the world for hours. I’m sorry.”

When you fish your face out of his shirt, the damp spot that your eyes made on the fabric makes you cringe. Dieter reads your discomfort and rubs his big palms up and down your back, silently pardoning you. He’s had much more vile substances on his person before, a few tears from his lover isn’t anything to make a fuss over. You shrug and collect your thoughts that finally have some sensibility to them, “It’s okay. I just had a bad day at work, they gave me so much extra shit because I scheduled a few days off so they were trying to wring me for all I had and were even pushier than usual and were yelling at me even when I was doing all the right things and what they asked and- and then my fucking car-”

You cut yourself off with a gasp, not having realized that throughout your spill you didn’t stop to breathe. Dieter strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers as he coos to you, the cool metal of his rings grounding you, “Hey, shhh. It’s over now, right? You just relax, baby, okay? Focus on taking some deep breaths, like we practiced. In through the nose and out through the mouth, remember?”

If you weren’t so distraught, it would make you chuckle. You were the one that had given him that technique to calm his own anxiety, and here you were forgetting your own advice. Dieter sets an example for you, breathing slowly through his nose and out through his mouth, and you follow along until your sobs stop catching in your throat. His hands never stop stroking you, sending waves of comfort through you. Soon, your body has stopped trembling because of your volatile emotions, but you shake in your skin from the cold rain that has seeped into your bones.

He notices and chuckles breathily, rubbing your arms to instill some heat into your blood. There’s a hint of mischief in his smile, one that you sense will swell into some menacing devilishness as the night deepens, “Let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

He sidesteps you to go deeper into the bathroom behind you, going to the bathtub which he takes a seat on the edge of and turns the faucet on. With his palm upturned, his forefinger points at you and wiggles in an upward motion.

“Off,” he instructs. His eyes rake over your dripping frame, following the cold droplets’ paths over the rain-soaked clothes that mold to every delectable curve of your body. His yearning stare wedges an extra beat into your heart rate and makes it hard to swallow.

Despite the unceremonious manner of your strip, your locked gazes are brimming with passion, ferocity, boiling with the heat of the night to come. Your sopping clothes land on the floor with a splat and Dieter sighs at your figure in all its nude glory, moving his hand to palm himself unabashedly through his pajama bottoms.

He leans back and swishes his finger through the water once the tub is filled, checking the temperature. He jerks his head toward the warm pool, “Come here, sweet thing.”

His fingers graze along your bare hip as you step into the bath and retract back to his cock when you sink down out of reach. The water feels heavenly, and fulfilling Dieter’s wish without the need of verbal instruction, you lean your back against the slope of the tub until the water’s surface meets the underside of your chin, letting out a deep sigh. You’re about to close your eyes when he brushes a stray hair out of your face, wrangling your attention to the sweet smile that graces his lips.

His voice is soft but firm in its sincerity, “I’ll have your car picked up and checked out.” Knowing you better than you know yourself, you’re about to pipe up to offer that he really doesn’t have to do that, that you’ll pay for the rest even if he insists on covering the tow. He leans in closer, so close you can taste his breath on your lips, robbing you of all thoughts other than the ones that spiral around him. “Don’t worry about any repairs it needs. I’ve got ya, sugar,” he supplies with a wink.

“Your boss will be receiving an unsightly letter to treat you better or else. There’s also a blackmail package available, featuring a rather smelly, heaping pile of a ‘substance’,” his fingers scrunch in allusive air quotes, “that Bravo Enterprises can’t disclose only for the purpose of ensuring surprise for the recipient, of course, that can be left on his desk. If the lady so desires.” You’re giggling before he’s finished, smacking him on the bicep that leaves a wet handprint on his t-shirt sleeve.

“I appreciate the offer, but no thank you. I don’t want to be fired, or jailed, depending on what this ‘substance’,” you mimic his air quotes, “is you speak of.”

“But,” you look up at him from underneath your lashes, shyly, “how could I have known my boyfriend would send in a letter of complaint?”

He kisses your forehead proudly, stroking your cheek with his thumb affectionately, “That’s my girl. Now, I want you to sit back and relax for a while. Let the stress of the day melt away.” His hands dip shallowly into the water to rub his thumbs into your collarbone, moving onto your shoulders to massage soothing circles there after that. His voice drops an octave, with a satisfying rasp that runs parallel to velvety smoothness, “I need you relaxed for what I’m going to do to you later, anyway.”

With your eyes closed, you smirk in anticipation. He gives a parting kiss to your cheek, leaving you to shed the stifling stress of the day on your own time. Before he does, he asks, “Want some?”

You peek one eye open and are being offered a little white rolled paper with a twist at the end.

“No thanks,” you shrug, “Maybe later.”

A little while later, there’s a knock on the door so soft you don’t hear it. Dieter pokes his head in, his boyish scruff rearranging into a smile when he sees your eyes still closed in peace. He quietly lays a folded bathrobe on the counter next to the sink and steals one last admiring glance at you before he ducks back out.

When the water has lost its warmth, you exit the bath and shrug on the thoughtful, fluffy robe with a smile, knotting the belt loosely around your waist as you go into the bedroom. Dieter is lying on his back on the bed, toying with a vibrator in his hands. The scene makes you chuckle and the playful sound draws his gaze. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, “Get over here, sweetness,” and you oblige, standing in between his parted thighs. The robe you’ve had on for all of sixty seconds becomes a redundant heap on the ground. Dieter’s hands cup your asscheeks, pulling you closer to him so he can envelope your nipple with his tongue. He bites down on your pert bud softly as you do the same to your lip, moaning through your teeth. His tongue drags a path across your chest to your other breast, where he laves his desperate tongue against the erect little peak there too. When he pulls back, he looks drunk off of you already.

He pats the center of the bed, his tone gruff and lost in his allegiance to your pleasure, “On your knees.”

Dieter puts the weight of his palm on your back, sculpting you into an arch. You’re on your knees but you’re also on your forearms, too. He kneels before you, sitting back on his haunches, and lifts your gaze up to his with a finger underneath your chin. “You remember what I said on the phone?” he asks, using his free hand to squeeze his bulge through his boxers. You nod, resting your cheek on his thigh and batting your lashes up at him. “Mmhm…,” you lick a stripe up the seam of the crotch, “You said you were gonna fuck my throat.”

He pulls his underwear down to his knees, freeing himself. The thick heft of him lightly smacks against your nose and a pornographic moan rumbles up from your center, whose emptiness is gnawing away at you. “Until I gag,” you tack on, remembering all his erotic details. His shoulders deflate with a sigh, his eyes shine with rapture, “Smart girl,” and he feeds you his cock.

You take it greedily, engulfing it in your hot, warm mouth. Harsh, helpless breaths escape his chest as he stumbles through the foggy abyss of ecstasy, regaining enough consciousness to thread his fingers in your hair and glide against your waiting tongue. “Fuck,” he whispers on every thrust, taking the time to rut in and out of your mouth until enough saliva collects to aid his descent down your throat. You take it all like a good girl, his good girl. His stubbly balls nestle against your chin when he reaches that impossible smoothness at your end and he anchors himself there, waiting for that godsent sound of-

You gag wetly around his length. Tears spill from the corners of your eyes as you try to look up at him, despite the compromising position. He helps you out and leans back so he can stare at you in amazement; his wrought expression has you dripping from both ends.

He ruefully retreats from your cavern and a thick string of saliva leaves the two of you connected. He swipes it from your lip with his thumb and drinks you down as he shuffles on his knees behind you.

Planting himself at your opening, he sighs contentedly as he settles in to patiently work you up until you go crazy. “Open up for me, kitty,” he rubs the backs of your thighs and you concede to lay your head down on the bed, splitting yourself for his ravenous eyes. You wiggle your ass back and forth when he doesn’t do anything but sit there admiring and your antics earn you an abrupt, satisfying, open-handed slap to your ass.

In his voicemail smut, he promised he would open you up, nice and slow, and he does just that at a tauntingly sluggish pace. His languid, sensual tongue draws rivulets up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, before his warm breath ghosts across his tight destination at the peak of your apex. Your breath catches in your throat delightedly when his wet curiosity finds your hole at last, tracing it with his tongue then deftly swirling it around your perimeter. It makes you bite your lip and your breathing come more strenuously. You’re tight, you know that and he knows that, but you don’t doubt his capability to unravel you until you can take his whole length with no resistance.

His raspy, comforting voice murmurs into your cheek, echoing his promise, “Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll open you up. Nice and slow…” He starts with his tongue again, lubing your backdoor entrance until you can feel his heavy saliva slide down to your aching folds. You rub at your clit lazily while he massages your hole with his thumb, gradually exposing you to increased pressure. Your resistance fades in time with his patient ministrations, to the point where he can lick into you. You both groan out in relief, him at your taste and you in dire pleasure. He reaches to swap your hand for his and draws perfect circles around your clit while his tongue works magic against your hole, bringing you to the peaks of two orgasmic heights whose blissful slopes have you feeling relaxed afterward, like jelly. It takes a little while of licking into you for him to be able to slide his thick finger in there, wriggling it around.

It tickles more than you expected, making you giggle before you’re choked out with a moan as the ticklishness ignites into absolute pleasure. The tingles crawl up your spine, fizzing out in the base of your neck and skittering sparks of dopamine all over your brain.

He squeezes a second finger inside in between contractions of your muscle, convulsing and expanding in time with the merciless waves of ecstasy that pour over you. Dieter watches with rapt attention as you stretch around him, your impeccable body adjusting to him deliciously. When your body starts to pull him back in on every retraction of his fingers, his cock twitches. You’re ready.

He gets to his knees, stretching over to the bedside table to grab the lube - just for extra comfort. You whimper ceaselessly underneath him on all fours, your body on fire for him. You squirm with impatience, a fiery need for him to fill you to the brim thrashing through you. Hurried by your mewling, Dieter’s fingers slip against the bottle and knock it to the floor. “Fuck!” he spits, bursting you into pieces with laughter.

He regains possession of the bottle and settles your devilish attitude with a single smack to your asscheek. The cap pops open, the cold gel runs into his palm, and he warms it up in his hands before he coats you everywhere you’ll need it. Dieter gives himself a few additional strokes too, groaning at the thought of what’s about to come (quite literally).

He pushes his tip against your hole, testing you, relishing in the remaining pressure your body still keeps. It feels so good to be broken by him, like he’s knocking down a barrier you don’t have the strength to keep up anymore. You want to surrender and he lets you.

He pushes inside and you gasp sharply, immediately followed by warbling babbles of how good he feels, how big he is, how good it fucking feels! He eases into you slowly, gliding deeper until his hips are nestled against your cheeks and all he can see is his hairy base above where he’s buried inside you. His splayed hand runs from the nape of your neck down your curved spine. “Shh, bunny,” he soothes. His hand comes to a stop just above your tailbone, pressing into the small of your back to arch you further beneath him. You bend to his will and groan as the new angle seats him impossibly deeper inside.

Your pussy drips for him, warm and fresh, and your hips wiggle of their own accord to make his intrusion a pleasurable one. His fingers wind around your pelvis and hold you steady, tongue tutting at you over your shoulder.

“Move, goddamnit,” you seethe, on the verge of tears. You feel helpless beneath him, a prisoner to your own desire, and your voice comes out just as vulnerable despite its biting rage that he still hasn’t moved.

Upon hearing your desperation, he doesn’t make you hold out any longer. His first thrust is gentle, experimental, opening you up even further. Breath heaving, whole body shaking with every inhale that squeezes you tighter around him, “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…”

“Holy fuck,” he blurts out in an echo to you, staring down at his thick cock lodged in your tight hole.

Even as he starts to gain pace, he maintains a consistent degree of gentleness to his thrusts so as not to hurt you - that’d be no fun for anyone involved.

“Feel so good, bunny,” Dieter whispers breathlessly, neck craned up to the gods with eyes closed and imperceptible, breathy oh, oh, ohs flowing from his mouth on every plunge. Meanwhile, your face is smashed into the sheets, squealing with a sensation so pleasurable that is ill-monikered by “an itch that needs to be scratched”; this is more like a firework in the night sky that you jump to catch every singing ember of.

You grip at the bedsheets with white knuckles, grinding your teeth together. Dieter splays his hand on the crown of your head and lifts you up to release your stifled, heavy breaths, “Let go, bunny,” he encourages. Your resolve instantly weakens and your orgasm overtakes you swiftly, knocking you without warning. Wracked with blinding pleasure, every breath you take is either a scream, a desperate moan, or a wrecked sob for him to keep going!

He does, fucking you until you’re a mess beneath him. You faintly remember his threat on the phone, something like he’d pull out midway through your release and make you gape. But thank fucking god you appealed to his sympathy enough tonight that instead he treats you, keeping his length nestled in your ass for you to pulse around, choking on air as your heart pounds in your chest.

Not too long later, your reverie is dissolved when he lands a smack to your ass, “Good girl,” he purrs. He leans over your body, his breath cool on your feverish skin as it tickles your shoulder in a whisper, “Your turn.”

You whimper when he pulls out and stay stuck in your feline position, back arched like a cat and wishing he was still hitting it. Dieter lies down in front of you, his cock resting erect against his tummy and his stupidly big, pleading eyes beg for you. “Please, baby,” comes whimpering from between those plush lips.

You nearly choose to leave him dangling on the edge; after all, you know how much he likes to be cucked (and how much you like to cuck him). But you want him too badly. Like in his dirty dreams this morning that he analogged for you, you mount him and begin riding. His big palms ascend your sweaty skin to cup your breasts that bounce as your thighs work to propel you up and sink you down in quicker succession. He leans forward to take one plush mound in his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue - but you twist your fingers in his ruffled hair and tug him back. It felt good, but the devastated crease between his brows makes you feel even better. This push and pull, give and take of dominance and submission always had to equalize with you two; your egos were too prideful for the game to be finished with a clear decision.

With the score tied, you finally find the patience to slow down; you gyrate your hips, grinding down on Dieter and meeting his shallow thrusts in a symphony of movement. That is, until that biting urge deep in your tummy needs another orgasm thrown to it to be satiated and stop growling at you for more. You resume bouncing, not going as fast as you could but opting for a poignant, striking rhythm instead.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna-” he chokes.

“Fuck yeah baby, do it,” you hiss like a temptress, watching the restraint drain from his eyes and give way to the unstoppable bliss that erodes him until he’s nothing but. You lift your hips up for him to pull out and he takes himself in hand, pumping feverishly as white hot cum spills into his lap. The muscles of Dieter’s stomach jerk in tandem with his spurting, even after he’s reached empty. He runs his hand down his sweaty, wrecked face, breathing haggardly as you roll off his lap and lower your mouth to his hips to lap him up. He tastes mostly salty with a hint of sweetness, viscous and easy to swallow down. It might not be your arousal your tongue cleans him of, like he fantasized earlier, but the sinful sight drives him up the fucking wall regardless.

Both of you lie there, him on his back and you on his chest, for a long time, just trying to catch your breath. Dieter reaches over to the nightstand for a joint and raises his eyebrow, asking your permission, which you give with a nod. He lights up and passes the smoke to you through parted lips, before handing over the rest of it for you to finish off. The thing about weed’s specific effect on you, that Dieter is very familiar with, is that it makes you feel warm, cuddly, and… aroused. With a mischievous giggle, you grind your wet folds against his thigh, asking for more, to which he grunts and gives a dry chuckle.

“I’m not 25 anymore, bunny, you gotta give me a little bit of time to recover.”

“What do you think I was trying to get off work for?” Your fingers waltz up his ribs with a mission to tickle him, but he catches on and swats you away with a smile. You love that shit-eating grin he gets, but it tarnishes your own when you’re hit with the thought that… you’ll miss it.

You turn your face away to look down at the burning paper, trying to disguise the disappointment in your voice, “You’re leaving soon, right?”

He sighs bitterly, but not at you, “Yeah, I am. But I was thinking…”

Your ears perk up so that you don’t mistake not even one word in his soft, raspy voice, “If you could, if you wanted to… you could come stay with me for a little while.”

You meet his eyes to gauge if he’s fucking with you - to your delight, he isn’t. “I have that fuck off huge house that production gave me with nobody in it but me and some makeup and costume people who are in and out for a few hours each morning. Ha,” he chuckles, raising his eyebrows in time with his words, “In and out.”

He can never take anything seriously for very long, but that’s the Dieter that you fell in- nopedon’tsayitthatwordistooscaryheonlyinvitedyoutocomestayforalittlewhilethatdoesn’tmeananythingseriousthatdoesn’tchangeanythingbetweenyoutwo. But the softened glimmer in his eye… it’s not a high from the weed.

“I’d love to.”

main masterlist 🍑 join my taglist!

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#pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x afab!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x female reader

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ikkosu · 1 month

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Hewwooo

Would I be able to make request of IDW Soundwave with an femme!S/O that has an aquatic beast-mode (some kinda like, squid or kraken-type kritter). She has this siren-like ability hypnotise people through her singing it's a conscious ability thought so so she accidentially do it to someone). Maybe Soundwave meets his S/O is he hears her singing.

SOUNDWAVE (IDW). FEM!BOT.SQUID S/O

a/n : apologies for the wait!! I've been juggling through and through with some other requests. 👉👈

WHAT veiled the horizon was darkness. Among the ether bristled stars; miniscule upon first viewing yet a closer look, deemed it's significance.

Soundwave trotted towards the ledge of the cliff. It overlooked the rolling sea. The waves that curled and nipped at the crumbling cliff-side broke off into a harsh ripple.

For a moment, he thought he'd saw something.

One quick glance : the gentle loping of the water bulged with a flick. Then, a splash — it's gone, submerged back into the emerald grey. He could pass off the visage as faulty imagination, given the lack of lighting which curved the penumbra thoughtlessly into form.

But he saw it again. In the waters. Gliding below, dancing among the waves. The tail— was it even a tail? Flickered about the surface.

He peered over the ledge.

There. There, it was again. That voice

Like water, it flowed. Round, smooth and alluring. So much so that it eased into his helm. The echo shrouded his mind, danced through the crevices, cords and wires of the circuitry before roosting itself there.

Wherever the voice urges him to, his pedes drag along, sauntering close to the verging mass of blue then, and a tip over the edge, face first into the sea.

The waves crushed him, pulling him down, water for tendrils, inside the mass of blue. Tossed around by the rolling waves, he felt like a toy as he rocked against the tides, a frantic servo out just to grab something. Anything. But all there was, was water.

The distant horizon was an inch peek above the emerald grey when he drew back up. Only to be dragged down again when he wasn't quick enough to grab the protruding branch.

He could've sworn he saw a tail flicker somewhere amongst the tides that curled. A part of him realizes how absurd the situation is, but the other, encompassed by some strange desire, urged himself closer to the sound.

Then, sharp pain blossomed from the back of his helm and his vision darkens. What he registered last was the visage of tendrils latching out and reaching towards him, curling over like a cage.

—

SOUNDWAVE onlines with a jolt.

It was still dark. He's on the shore. On his back. Arms sprawled to the sides. His joints hissed and chuffed, a release of heat and water is purged from the nooks of his body as he sat up.

He groaned a little, sore from the shoulder links, neck cables and to every other protoform under his armor. A bad rust is going to take him soon and he's not sure if Shockwave would be willing to spare him from any chastise.

A ping notified the temporary halt in his cooling fans (he assumed the salt water clogged it) and several other nodules affected by the duration of his scuffle.

He clicked it away.

Then, warmth shrouds one side of his cheek. It was a feather-like touch, almost a brush of air that made him flinch, blasters drawn. A startled squeak was prompted. Before grabbing whatever appendage on sight, he blinked at the figure scuttling back into the water with a splash.

That can be sorted out later.

The back of his helm pulsed, though, with a migraine one that hammered intensely, prompting a wince.

He crawled to the ledge of the shore. A squid's head, two round black optics for eyes, nudged out a little from the water, as though cautious.

"I am unarmed." He says almost apologeticaly.

He sprawls out his servos, wagging it for further convincing.The bot like squid bounced in the water a few times, dipping down and nudging back up before completely plunging into the water.

His temptation to jump in was short-lived, impulsivity almost at a peak's high, when the muffled whirs of transformation pistons halted him.

The surface of the water loped then breaks out with a ripple when you emerged. The tendrils hooked on your back, moved almost with a life like entity of its own, swaying along to your emotions. He's almost reminded of that Organic folklore — Medusa, was it?

"I did not mean to target you." You spoke softly and he tries not to bristle at the familiar allure purging him. "My ability is not something I can suppress often. It's a conscious reverie. Hard to tell. And, mechs often fall prey to it — even when I don't intend to do so."

He leans close but you flinch, reeling away from the shore with a frantic look. Soundwave placates with both servos. He didn't want you to leave yet, not when you're here. Not when you're right in front of him.

He points to his audials.

"I've masked your frequency." He said. "You can speak freely as you like. I won't be affected, if that's your concern."

You blinked, a kind of sparkle eased over your face. "You can do that?"

When it's a given you're eager, Soundwave swings his leg over the shore and submerged it into the water. It gently rippled and lapped at the metal.

"Most can't?"

The tendrils lowered, resigned. "Not the ones I've seen." You vent. "They steer clear of me. And, off they go when they can't — plunging into the sea, rooked in like ants. I'd save them in time before the salt gets to their circuits, just like how I managed to save you."

You give three, very meek, apologetic taps to his open palm. Soundwave blinks at the gesture. He loosens and returns the tap on your own.

"For that, I forgive you." He says. "But I can't help notice you're alone."

"I shelter in an underwater cave." You say, sheepish. "It's not too far from here. A dainty spot, I'd say."

Soundwave seems like he doesn't concur. "Isn't it a little isolating to hide in the sea, when there's land you can come up to?"

You folded your servos on the shore, just beside his thigh and rested your chin on top of it, a little morose.

"I'm frightened of myself as they are frightened of me."

Soundwave observes at you for a moment, then up to the expanse of the sea. He curls out a digit. Slowly it hooks over your own.

"I don't think I'll ever be."

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