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elen-aranel · 8 months

Note

Helloo~ May I make a Christopher Pike x reader request? It's a month old scuttlebutt, that the captain is involved with you, based solely on misconstrued events (leaving the direction of his quarters early morn in a rumpled uniform, stopping by medbay for a 'shot') Everyone knows that everyone knows, from cadet to captain. Except you don't. And noone has bothered checking. And the captain finds it funny (and you 'apparently' don't mind either as you've not bothered to shoot it down) so any moments you two have in view of others, he gives you a conspirational wink with some flirty banter. You think (hope) he's really flirting and not just being friendly.

Is it a bit much for a request? If so lemme know. Or i can commission? Idk. The idea hit me and it made me giggle with all the ways it could go.

Thank you so much for the request, and for your patience... this took a while! I hope you like the direction I've gone with it <333

Common Knowledge

Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings/Notes: Reader wears the dress version of the standard SNW uniform. Food mentions, alcohol mention. WC: 5.8k

It all starts the morning after you spent gamma shift in a Jeffries tube. Well. Several Jeffries tubes, in fact, chasing down an issue with a relay that had blown and taken a bunch of circuitry out with it, including some life support systems.

You’re feeling good, though, as you step out into the corridor on a deck full of crew quarters. Yes, your red uniform dress is creased and you’re in dire need of a shower, but the relay and the burned-out circuitry are replaced, and all systems are back online.

You deserve a water shower, not a sonic one, you tell yourself as you head toward the turbolift, nodding to the occasional officer as you walk by them. You just need to make sure the ops console on the bridge is reading everything correctly, then your duty shift will be done.

“Commander, Lieutenant,” you greet Lieutenant Commander Chin-Riley and Lieutenant Ortegas as you enter the turbolift. Unlike you, they both look fresh and ready to face the day. Number One nods in greeting, but Ortegas looks you up and down quite blatantly, and you find you’re trying to smooth your skirt despite yourself.

“Long night?”

“I—” you start, but before you can reply—

“Computer, hold. Open the doors,” Commander Chin-Riley says, and as you turn, Captain Pike is walking into the lift. And somehow, even though you’ve been on the Enterprise for a while, you’re never not struck by his presence. His broad shoulders. How handsome he is.

“Good morning, Number One, Ortegas. Lieutenant.” He puts an odd weight on your title, even though of course he knows your name, and then your mind goes blank as he winks one of those blue eyes.

“C-captain,” you stutter, well aware of Ortegas trying to stifle a laugh next to you.

“Sleep well?” Una asks, something knowing in her voice, after the captain directs the turbolift to the bridge.

“I’ve had… more restful nights,” he says, and looks at you sideways, doubtless taking in your rumpled dress and less-than-fresh appearance. “Like the lieutenant here, I’d wager,” he adds, and you must have missed a memo somewhere because this ‘lift ride has gotten very weird, very fast.

You decide keeping quiet is your best bet — it’s a short ride, thank goodness.

But you can’t shake the feeling that there are eyes on you as you finish your work on the bridge.

It may have started in a Jeffries tube, but it continues in sickbay.

You appreciate knowing sickbay is there. Doctor M'Benga and Nurse Chapel are skilled at their jobs, and you’ve had cause to be grateful for them when accidents happen, from a pulled muscle during a workout to a painful plasma burn from faulty equipment.

That doesn’t mean you love getting your quarterly check-up and shots. But you decided early on in your career that you weren’t going to be one of those people doctors had to chase for their physicals. Every three months you turn up. You’re due for routine vaccinations against some common alien viruses that human immune systems need reminders about, and your contraceptive shot.

Not that you really need it, of course. You aren’t getting any. The closest you’ve been since you joined the Enterprise was Lieutenant Paulson, a senior engineer who sometimes commands gamma shift when you’re on that rotation. He asked you out to dinner on Starbase 1, and while you like him as a person, you had to decline. You’d known him for a while, and never felt any kind of spark. And there’s been no-one— there’s been almost no-one else on the ship that you’re interested in. But still, you get your shot.

Today your appointment is during your shift. You didn’t want to be interrupted; you’re working on a new scanning device to be used on a planet with an unusual combination of atmosphere and magnetic field, which affects the resolution of normal scanners. So when your reminder went off you kept hold of your PADD, and you carried on entering the design parameters as you walked.

“Woah there,” a voice cuts through the equations you’re focussing on, and you feel hands on your arms, steadying you as you stumble.

As it turns out, walking with a PADD is a mistake.

Especially when you walk straight into the captain in the corridor outside sickbay.

“Captain! I’m so sorry! I—I was— I’ll pay more attention.” You look up, flustered, into his blue eyes, suddenly keenly aware of the bulk of him, of the controlled strength in his hands. Happily, he seems amused rather than annoyed, that half smile playing about his lips.

“I do admire your... dedication, Lieutenant, but you’re right. Paying attention is a good idea.”

And as the doors to sickbay swish open, letting Chief Kyle and one of your fellow engineers out onto the corridor, you realise the captain hasn’t moved. You’re still in his space, and he’s still holding you.

“Captain, Lieutenant... are you joining us?” Nurse Chapel looks as though she’s suppressing a smile. “You’re, uh... both here for your quarterly shots, right?” she adds, as Pike finally steps back, and you walk with him into sickbay. You nod, mutely.

“Yes. Timed it perfectly this time, didn’t we Lieutenant?” he says, and he grins at you, knowing.

“Sure,” you find yourself saying, sitting down a little abruptly on the biobed Doctor M'Benga indicates. Is Pike… flirting with you? Or just being his usual warm self?

“This shouldn’t take too long. I’m sure you want to get back to your... duties.” M'Benga looks meaningfully at Pike, who shrugs, a picture of innocence.

“Can you blame us?”

You can’t help your smile.

But actually, now you really think about it, maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it started with the onions.

You have a shift free, moving from nights to days as you do on a semi-regular basis, since some edict came down from Starfleet that people shouldn’t just work nights for health reasons. It doesn’t entirely make sense to you; you’re on a ship, so it’s not like anyone has a real day or night, but being able to socialise with people who are always on alpha is a plus, and you suppose the same rules apply to planetary bases which do have day and night.

The captain has invited you to dinner. That isn’t special, even though you wish it were – he likes to get to know the whole crew in an informal setting, and it’s just your turn. And maybe you over-think it just a little, during the day, planning what to wear to make yourself look pretty but not like you’d tried too hard.

Either way, you are early. You only realise as you press the chime for the door, when it’s too late to back out.

But the captain’s smile is warm and welcoming. “Hi, come in, come in. You any good with a vegetable knife?”

You grin in return, relaxing. “Yes sir. It’s been a little while, but I can chop.”

“Chris. We’re not on the clock right now.”

“Yes, Chris.” You follow him into the kitchen area of his quarters, taking in the fire, the view of a green forest through the windows, all the details that mark the space as his.

“Excellent. That spatial anomaly today— well. I’m playing catch-up here.”

“Oh wow, you really are...” the vegetables are all laid out ready, and there are a lot. But then, you don’t know how many people will be here. “Set me to work. How do you want the carrots?”

Pike’s knives are sharp and well balanced, and it’s easy to chop carrots into even circles, and to dice potatoes into neat cubes. You chat, too, about the food he’s making, and the special unit he had the ship’s botanists set up to let him grow fresh herbs in space.

You’re pretty much on autopilot by the time you get to the onions. You know the technique: you slice them in half through the root, then make sure you don’t cut the root again as you cut from close to the root to the tip, then across into chunks.

“So, there’s something I’m curious about,” you say as you grab the next onion.

“Oh?” Pike pauses for a moment, hand poised over the control for the oven.

“The forest overlay you have for the windows. Is it somewhere special to you? It’s really lovely.” You blink a little as you chop. Perhaps you got a lash or something in your eye.

Pike presses the control on the oven, then turns to look at you. “No, actually it’s—” he frowns. “Wait, are you all right?”

You blink again. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Your brow draws together, and you put your knife down, turning to him a little more.

“Because you’re crying.” He starts towards you.

“Oh, damn.” You can feel it now — that tell-tale sting in your eyes. You look down at your chopping. “The onions. But I was being careful.” You sigh, blink again, and feel a tear roll down your cheek.

“If there are a lot it doesn’t matter how careful you are. I’m sorry, I should have done them.” He reaches past you, and you’re terribly aware of him in your space. He pulls off a piece of kitchen towel.

“It’s not your fault—” the words die on your lips as he turns to face you, blue eyes filled with concern.

“I’ll just—I don’t want you to use your hands—” and he takes the towel and dabs your face, and you suck a little breath in at his closeness, wondering why it has to be in a circumstance like this, when the door chime goes. “Enter,” he says, distractedly, blotting away one more tear before stepping back. “There. No harm done. But you should wash up. Ah, Spock, perhaps you can take over the chopping.”

You look round to see that Spock, Sam Kirk, Ortegas and Uhura have all walked in, just in time to see you with red eyes from the onions. At least, you think as you wash the onion off your hands, your makeup is waterproof.

Regardless of how things did or did not start, you’re pretty sure the captain only thinks of you as a friend. That this flirting is just a joke between the two of you... even if you wish it were real. Either way, you decide you might as well enjoy it.

You get back to the transport point from your solo hike on Chi Orianis Prime – it’s beautiful, with fluffy peachy-pink grass that’s soft underfoot and smells very slightly citrus-y when you tread on it, interspersed with lavender coloured bushes, with views of blue lakes and red mountains in the distance – right as Pike gets back from his fishing trip. Given how he’s carrying his cooler, it must have been a successful one.

You’re just about to ask him about it when Chapel and Ortegas arrive, with Uhura and La’an in tow, laughing together. They’re wearing t-shirts and shorts and sandals, carrying towels — clearly back from the beach, La’an actually looking like she might have caught the sun a little.

You take a step closer to him.

“Enjoy your trip?” The smile on Erica’s face is just a little too innocent.

“Yes, thank you. Wouldn’t have been the same without the lieutenant here, though.” Pike catches your eye, and you smile back at him, sappy, playing along.

“The captain’s right. We had a good time.”

None of your close friends wanted to go to movie night with you tonight. They’re showing a classic 20th century Earth film, Casablanca, and none of them were interested in seeing something that old. But it seems pretty popular with the rest of the crew when you get there. You pick up some popcorn first, wondering once again whose idea it was to put a Starfleet delta on the containers, and you head to find a seat.

Maybe it was a good thing your friends didn’t come. There aren’t too many spaces left when you go to sit down, but there are a few seats a couple of rows in front of where Spock and Nurse Chapel are sitting together. You settle in, allowing yourself three pieces of popcorn before the lights go down.

And right before they do, Pike slides into the free seat next to you.

“I thought you were going to stand me up,” you tell him, tilting your popcorn container over.

“A gentleman would never,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he takes a piece.

The back of the shuttle is open to the bay, and Cadets Novakova and Manuel, on engineering rotation, are standing inside it with you, PADDs in hand. You’ve popped a panel off the inside of the shuttle, and you indicate a junction point.

“So, okay. You want to interplex the circuitry here. What will be the result of that? What are you hoping to achieve?”

“Well, the increased signal strength will improve thruster response time and efficiency.” Manuel says, shrugging his broad shoulders like it’s obvious.

“Yes, and we need better responsiveness for the planet. The atmospheric differentials are almost out of spec.” Novakova nods. “This is the easiest way to achieve that.”

“All right. And looking at the systems in front of you, will there be any other consequences?”

“No, there shouldn’t, it should just—” there’s a pause, then Novakova steps back, playing with a twist of her blonde hair as she considers. “Wait. That pathway, it connects to the impulse engine as well, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does, and the boosted signal would go through there too…” Manuel’s fingers fly over his PADD.

They look at each other as the penny drops, and you notice Pike in the bay, listening in. You tilt your head and raise a brow in a silent invitation, but he shakes his head a little, content to observe.

“So if we interplex the circuitry there, we will get an increase in thruster efficiency, but at the expense of introducing instability into the impulse control matrix.” Manuel sighs.

“You’re flying along, minding your business and then boom. Impulse reactor overload.” Novakova winces. “I didn’t see that.”

You nod. “You didn’t. Because neither of you really looked. For what it’s worth, it would probably have worked on the shuttles at the academy. But these are a different model. You have to work with what’s actually in front of you. That’s half the battle.”

“Wise words, Lieutenant.” Pike leans into the back of the shuttle, and you can’t help your smile at the praise as the cadets turn to acknowledge him. “The two of you should take them to heart.”

You're sitting on a bench in the bar, sipping a favourite drink, listening to Ensign Thyra play an Earth guitar but sing a wistful sounding song in her native Andorian, when Lieutenant Ortegas sits down next to you. And then Nurse Chapel sits on your other side.

“So, you and the captain. How’s that going?” Christine’s opening is straight to the point.

You give her a sceptical look. “It... isn’t? Hi to you too, by the way.” You turn to Erica. “To both of you.”

“Oh, come on. You guys are not subtle.” Erica rolls her eyes. “It’s been scuttlebutt for weeks. Me, Number One,” she starts counting off on her fingers, “Christine, Mbenga, Uhura...”

“Sam Kirk,” Christine adds.

“Yes, Sam Kirk, Spock, La’an...”

“We’ve all seen it. I even heard the cadets talking about it. Everyone knows.”

You shake your head, putting your drink down on the table in front of you. “We’re not... I don’t—” you look from one to the other. “There’s nothing between the captain and me.” You take a breath. “He flirts, sometimes I flirt back, but it’s just a joke.”

“Doesn’t look like a joke to me.” Christine says, her voice soft, almost sympathetic.

Erica shrugs. “It’s okay. You don’t have to admit it, if you guys are keeping things to yourselves... We just wanted you to know that we’re happy for you. Pike should have someone on the ship. And you. You should have someone too.” Her smile as she stands to leave is genuine.

“I—I’m not hiding anything. But thanks, I guess? I appreciate the sentiment.”

Arriving early when the captain invites you to a crew dinner is your habit now. You enjoy helping with prep when you can, and having a quiet moment to chat with Chris.

But this time you use the computer to check that others have arrived before you get there. You try to relax; these are your friends, Chris is your friend, but with what Erica and Christine said… you feel self-conscious. Second guessing everything you do and say.

You leave as soon as you can without being rude.

You feel a bit self-conscious with work, too, although you try to bury it. Especially with Pike piloting the shuttle for this mission. You’re sitting in your tactical uniform in the back of shuttle Kepler with Spock, Sam Kirk, La’an, and a couple more science officers. You would expect Kirk especially to pass some comment, but even he is quiet, because Zeta Lyrae VI’s wind shear is every bit as bad as science predicted.

A long-range scanning probe identified it as a possible source of dilithium as well as some other useful minerals — visual scan only, though, because the strange magnetic field prevented scanning of the interior. But that’s where the scanner you developed comes in. The visual scan also tagged some potential ruins which Kirk will investigate, and there’s general surveying to do too.

You grit your teeth against the turbulence. You trust that the captain’s piloting skills and the modifications you and the cadets made to the shuttle will see you safely to the ground, but you still feel motion sick. You know, though, there are pattern enhancers in the cargo. Perhaps you’ll be able to beam back up.

The turbulence lessens as you get deeper into the atmosphere, but you’re still very glad when the shuttle touches down. There’s a metallic tang to the air as the shuttle door opens, but it’s cool and refreshing despite that, and you take a deep breath, settling your rolling stomach, before you get to work.

The dawn sky of Zeta Lyrae IV is muted shades of pale blue and grey, warming a little to mauve-pink at the horizon, where the two suns have just risen. Barren-looking plains stretch out in front of you, with a river lazily meandering across, and there are hills leading to mountains not far away to your right. It’s hard to make out, but the lines of dark stones partially embedded in the ground to your left could well be the remains of a wall, and there are other, more defined structures further away in that direction.

“Lieutenant, you have everything you need?”

“Yes sir.” You lift your last case again, the heavy one, and try to keep your face blank at the weight of it. You know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but its contents were too large for your backpack. “I’ve identified a site two kilometres away that’s suitable for the scanner base. Enhanced scanning should be online within an hour.”

Pike nods. “Kirk, La’an, you have the ruins. Spock, the science survey is yours.” He turns to you. “Let me help with that.”

“I’m fine, honestly,” you protest as Pike takes the case from you, fingers brushing yours for one tiny electric moment.

“We’ll make quicker time if we share the load. Which I’m sure Spock will appreciate.”

“Aye, sir.”

You notice that there’s no flirtatious comment today.

This planet feels a bit like a dream, with its dead quiet, muted colours, pearly grey sky and the two suns gently highlighting the landscape. The only evidence you can see of the turbulent atmosphere are the occasional blue-green clouds scudding quickly across the sky.

You pick your way through the pathless terrain, looking for any signs of life. While there are scraps of ragged looking vegetation here and there, a lot of it seems dead, and the planet as a whole seems mostly barren.

You don’t make conversation; there’s something about the planet’s quiet and your confused emotions that steals your ability to make small talk, and Pike is quiet too. There’s just the sound of two pairs of boots crunching on the ground.

Until you almost step on a flower: a seven petaled bloom in the shape of a star, pale blue in the middle deepening to grey-purple just at the tips. You pause to get a better look, to see if there are any others like it nearby, but it seems solitary.

“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”

You look up to see Pike has stopped too, mild concern on his face.

“Yes sir, I’m fine.” You straighten up. “I just... this flower is the only one I’ve seen, and I wonder... is it the last gasp of the life that used to live on this planet, or is it a glimpse of hope for the future?”

Pike glances at the flower, but his focus is on you when he speaks. “We’ll likely never know, but I... I choose hope.”

The site you chose from the visual scan is obvious when you get there. You’re at the edge of the hills, and there’s a grey cliff curving round one edge of a flat open area. Geophysics had identified it as a potential location for dilithium, and as you get close you can see veins of the pink crystal running through the rock.

Now you just need to find out how much there is.

With Pike helping it doesn’t take too long to set the scanner up. You start with the base in the case he was carrying, and together you fold it out into a large circle, locking struts and its three legs in place.

You attach the probe that will drill into the soil, the antennas to communicate with the smaller unit near the shuttle and with the Enterprise, and to facilitate scanning in the atmosphere. Finally, you attach the computer from your backpack which is the brains of the system — you can’t help your private smile of satisfaction as it comes online. The shuttle is far enough away that its systems don’t affect the sensitive scans, and when the probe deploys and calibration data flows straight through immediately.

You talk to Commander Pelia and Lieutenant Spock on comms, making adjustments on the fly to the different parameters, optimising the uplink from the scanner and away team’s tricorders to the Enterprise.

Pike checks in with La’an at some point, but next time you look up you see he’s a little way away, tricorder out, following a standard scanning pattern working outward from where you are. You’re a little surprised he didn’t tell you that’s what he was going to do. Then the scanner beeps as the drill returns a result outside expected tolerances, pulling your focus.

It’s easier to get lost in your work than think about him, and for a long while, you do.

“Lieutenant, do you see that?” There’s a note of concern in Pike’s voice, and you follow his gaze to the horizon to your right.

It almost looks like a distant rain shower would on Earth, but there are green lights sparking all through it. Like lightning but less directional. You take a breath, and realise the metallic smell has intensified, to the point you can almost taste it.

“Yes, sir, I do.” You turn and meet Pike’s eyes.

“Plasma storm?”

“Plasma storm.” You redirect your scanner’s gain to maximum in that direction, sacrificing resolution elsewhere.

Pike’s tone is rueful. “Should’ve known when I scanned a burned patch of vegetation. It must have developed quickly.”

“Looks like it’s moving fast, too.”

“I’ll contact the rest of the away team, have them meet us at the shuttle. You start packing.”

“Sir,” you reply, distracted, already deep in the scanner readouts. You vaguely hear Pike calling Spock, then La’an, but you’re focused on one last scan.

“Lieutenant? I gave you an order.”

“Yes sir, you did, but look.” You point to the readout of the storm’s speed on the screen. “Scans show that even if we leave right now, we can’t make it back to the shuttle before the storm hits. We don’t even have time for them to pick us up.”

Pike frowns. “Options?”

“The cliff. There’s a cave system behind it. I don’t think there’s an entrance close enough, but...”

“Phasers? All this dilithium makes it risky.”

“Plasma burns are no fun, sir. I would know.”

He raises a brow. “Sounds like a story for later. All right. Let’s do this.”

You grab your phaser from your holster and dial the power up.

“Fire.”

You focus your beam on the weakest spot, and Pike fires at it too. And... nothing happens, for long enough for a shade of doubt to creep in. Then there’s a sound, a pile of rubble, and a gap. Just large enough for a person.

The cave is dark. It’s big, too, enough that the torches on your vests can’t illuminate the other side from where you are.

The storm is still raging outside, but the sound of it is quiet in here; the narrow space you opened the gap into curved round for a few metres before opening out into the space you’re in.

Now all you can do is sit and wait.

And you’re so aware of Pike, sitting with you.

He’s quiet, and now you come to think of it he has been all day. Definitely no flirting. You try to steal a glance at him, see what he’s thinking, but it’s too dark, and you don’t want to turn to face him.

You cast around for a distraction, and find a piece of dilithium embedded in the rock floor of the cavern next to you. The surface is flat and glassy-smooth, but with a few imperfections, and you like the feel of it under your fingers. In your head you go over the dilithium crystal eigenstates you memorised at the academy in one of your classes in warp field mechanics, and calculate the power output you would need for your phaser to trigger different levels.

“Sir, I’d like to try something, to give us some more light. It’s safe.”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

You adjust your phaser to its second lowest setting, scoot across a little and fire on the dilithium, counting seconds in your head. It starts glowing red immediately, but as you shut the beam off the glow spreads, along one vein, then another, then another, until the whole cavern is lit up like its own galaxy, surrounding you on the floor, the walls, the ceiling.

“Wow, that’s—that’s good work. Thank you.”

There’s something in his expression as he looks at you, the wonder in his eyes melting into a smile, that makes you brave.

“So… I had an—an interesting chat with Chapel and Ortegas the other day.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently the scuttlebutt is that we’re dating... we’ve been dating for a while. They wouldn’t believe me when I told them it wasn’t true.” You stare out across the cavern at all the glimmering lights.

“Oh.” He exhales. “Hah, yeah… I’m, uh, sorry about that? Things… got away from me.” You hear him stir, move into a different position.

You frown. “I don’t understand. What are you sorry for?”

“I’ve always been interested in you. And you’re not the sort of person that’s cowed by rank – Paulson is your superior, in your chain of command, but I was in the bar when he asked you to dinner, and you were so sure of yourself when you rejected him. So that day in the turbolift, Una and Erica jumping to conclusions... Your face was a picture, and I had to take Una’s bait. But by the time she told me there was already a rumour, you were joining in, and I—”

His voice goes quiet, like a confession.

“I couldn’t stop. And that wasn’t fair to you… making you an object of gossip like that.”

“Chris, I—” but now it comes to it, you can’t find the words. How do you tell him that you wouldn’t mind, not at all, if only the gossip were real? “But you did stop. We’ve barely spoken today. Until now.”

“I can read the room. You weren’t up for it the other night. Or today. And… I would never force my attentions where they clearly aren’t wanted.”

“But... they are, Chris. They are wanted.”

The cavern is dead quiet, and you almost wonder if you actually spoke aloud. But the look in Pike’s eyes when you finally turn to meet them—

“Lieutenant Spock to Captain Pike. Come in, please.”

Pike shrugs a little, face apologetic, as he flips open his communicator.

The ride back to the Enterprise is as quiet, and bumpy, as the ride to the planet. Spock and the rest of the away team had sheltered in the shuttle with shields up while the storm passed over them, and when the Enterprise’s scanners had shown that another one was forming, they came to pick you up.

All the equipment you left outside was destroyed.

But you think, as you climb in the shuttle, you catch a glimpse of one of those star-shaped flowers, still intact. Still blooming.

And Pike makes a point to catch your eye as you leave the shuttle bay. It’s subtle, but you recognise the invitation.

You think you can smell food as you press Pike’s door chime, and the scent only gets more appetising as you walk in. The lights are low, apart from the fire burning brightly, and Pike pauses, apron on over his gold uniform, to smile at you as you walk over to the kitchen area.

“You came.”

“Of course.”

He picks a small bottle up, and pours from it into a salad bowl in front of him. “I hope you’re hungry… I may have gone a little overboard on the mac and cheese. I thought we could use a little comfort food after that planet.”

“It smells amazing. Anything I can do to help?”

“It’s almost ready. You could pour the wine?” He indicates to the bottle and two glasses on one end of his L shape table. You uncork the chilled bottle and take care of the drinks while he brings plates, salad, and the macaroni cheese, piping hot and smelling delicious.

Sitting next to Chris, rather than opposite like you might at a restaurant or on the other side of the L as you have when you’ve been to crew meals here, feels so intimate. As he reaches over to get some salad, or you go to pick up your glass to sip some chardonnay, you can’t help but touch. You try not to let being this close to him distract you… as intimate as this is, as hopeful as you are, nothing is settled.

You take a bite of your pasta and sigh. “It’s perfect, Chris. Creamy, the cheese— everything. Perfect comfort food. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You see him relax a little as you load up another forkful; he cares what you think.

You eat for a while in companionable quiet, then he takes a breath.

“I’m planning on demoting Spock. He has the worst timing.” He quirks one of those half smiles at you, the kind that make you melt a little, but then his expression goes serious.

“My position on this ship… I have to be careful of it. Your training – everyone’s training – tells you to do as I say. So, if I’m… interested… in someone, usually I try to set that aside.” He puts his fork down and shakes his head a little. “Clearly I didn’t do well on that score with you. But… I would have to be sure, before I truly pursue anything, that a person isn’t saying yes because of my rank.”

“I told myself that flirting was just a joke between us. That you don’t get involved with your crew. I want it to be real, but when people assumed that it was… It spooked me for a moment there.” You turn to face him more fully, to look into his eyes.

“I understand what it means for you to be Captain Pike. I understand that the Enterprise comes before me. But I felt that—that pull toward you, long before whatever this was started. It’s not your rank, your position of authority, Chris, it’s you.”

Chris stands from his chair, reaching a hand out to you. You stand and take it, his fingers warm in yours, and let him draw you to him, feeling the press of his body all along yours. You stare into his eyes, and see a wonder there that you’re sure he sees in your eyes too – the knowledge that you can finally have this. But then your eyes drift shut as he kisses you, gently, unhurried, savouring the moment.

You part for just a second, and then it gets passionate as you kiss him back, one hand on his chest, while his other hand finds its way to your lower back, holding you tighter. Your lips part, his tongue finds yours and you taste him, and you can’t get enough.

“So I know your shots are up to date,” Chris says, voice gravelly, when you pause for breath. “Would you like to take this to the bedroom?”

“Yes please.” You don’t care if you sound needy; you just want him. He takes your hand again and leads the way.

You are not quite sure what happened to your dress. You remember Chris helping you take it off last night, but quite how it got this crumpled is a bit of a mystery. You lift it up from the floor, and try to shake it out, not very successfully.

“Breakfast is served,” Chris says, looking fresh and neat in his uniform, not a hair out of place. No evidence to be seen of your activities last night, or how little sleep he may have had. “Oh, did you want a new uniform? I can synthesise one.”

“No need. I’ll have time to change in my quarters before shift.” You pull it on and try to smooth your skirt. “Breakfast?”

“Waffles. And real maple syrup. I know this little farm—”

It isn’t far from Pike’s quarters to the turbolift, and the officers in the corridor nod and smile to you as usual. Until you meet Lieutenant Ortegas.

She looks you up and down, taking in your creased dress with a raised brow and a sly smile. “I saw the duty rosters; I know you’re on alpha today. So… you get lucky last night?”

You try to hide your smile, but you feel too good – you don’t really want to.

“Yes, Erica, I did.”

Everyone will know, but you don’t mind. You and Chris are at the start of something special.

#Christopher Pike x Reader #Christopher Pike x You #Captain Pike #Christopher Pike Imagine #Star Trek Strange New Worlds #fanfic #ask #elen answers #request #noctiscorvus #writings of the girl from outer space #Common Knowledge

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undomychainofpain · 2 months

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It's crazy to think about that i'm related to THE VAMPIRA MAILA NURMI- It's soo crazy. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

She was an icon and the fact that she is my third cousin thrice removed? WHAT-?! Her great grandmother is my 4th great grandmother's sister..

#vampira #maila nurmi #pin up #pin up girl #50s pinup #goth aesthetic #goth pinup #vampira show #classic television #50s #vintage television #plan 9 from outer space #too much too soon #hollywood pinup #50s hollywood

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theizzifromosaka · 6 months

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Happy Halloween!

Here's my small collection of Halloween OC art (again), hope everyone out there's got fun plans for today

Me and some friends are hopefully gonna watch Killer Klowns from Outer Space later today

This movie technically has monster girls in it, I could review them

#oc #monster girls #halloween #robot #robot girl #ghost #ghost girl #fae #bunny girl #clown girl #killer klowns from outer space

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avengersacademyarchive · 2 years

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Mission: Mean Girl From Outer Space 1, part 2

Loki: You’re leading the Chitauri? That’s appropriate. Finally, you have peons as hideous as you are. Space Warrior Enchantress: They aren’t my peons! My peons are exclusively men who will do everything I say and let me use their tears as a facial toner! Loki: They must look at you and see themselves: a disgusting face on a tastelessly-attired body.

#marvel #avengers academy #loki #enchantress #enchantress character storyline #outfit storyline #mean girl from outer space

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bwallure · 7 months

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MAILA NURMI as Vampire Girl in Plan 9 from Outer Space (1959)

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henneseyhoe · 3 months

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Milk Marie

Unique x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: unprotected seggs(wrap before you tap!), dirty talk, after care, soft(ish)!Unique, pussy whipped!Unique, kinda short, das it(I think)

SUMMARY: Unique figures if he can’t get over her, he’ll get under her instead.

✮Prompt✮

✮✮✮✮

Girl, I want everything that come with you. Even if you got stretch marks and even two children. I can’t blame you, girl.

It seemed like he always ended back up here. Right here. In this bed. With this woman. Wrapped up in her sheets with his hands touching all the parts only the luckiest of men got the pleasure of even seeing. He swore they were meant to be, and she almost thought so too. He treated her so well, like the beauty she was, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

They had known each other since the sandbox, his mother always offering to watch her while her mother was at work and since that first time they met, they were connected at the hip.

No matter if they fell out and swore to stop fuckin’ with each other, they always ended right back together. No matter how many times she attempted to leave, he’d just find her again.

He hoped by the last time she left he’d be too tired of her bullshit to follow after her, but he was more resilient than he thought, and withdrawals are a muthafucka. Now he knows how the people he serves feel.

That first taste he had of her? It was like a babies first lick of sugar, addiction waiting to happen. The first time he came was like floating in outer space with no destination or desire to be anywhere else. And as ironic as it was, she looked innocent on her knees for him.

Her mouth worked its way down on him until the tip of her nose touched his stomach and her eyes began to water, her throat capturing his entire length. With no problem, she bobbed her head up and down on him, her mouth so sloppy that spit escaped from her lips and trailed down to his balls, making him shudder.

She took her hand and began spreading the spit around his heavy sack, massaging as she felt him throb in her mouth, the taste of precum already being prevalent on her tongue. He occupies his hands and digs his fingers into the couch cushions, knowing that she would stop and he’d be fucked if he reached for her freshly done silk press that was wrapped in a silk scarf, secure for those rough times.

Flashes of white appeared behind his eyes like stars as that familiar pull in the bottom of his stomach appeared once again, a warm sense of feeling covering his body as he came down her throat for the first time in months since he found out where she had been hiding. Which just ended up being her childhood home in the city over.

It took unique all but a mere few seconds to recover before he was pulling her up from her knees and into his strong hold, giving her that kiss of death before he got to doing his own damage. As he stood from the couch with no care about the jeans and belt still around his thighs, their tongues danced together in sync. Unique could taste every bit of both of them on her tongue, but he was never one to fuss about kissing after head if it was with her. He welcomed it if anything.

Tossing her body onto the bed, he takes a second to admire how the room hadn’t changed one bit since she became an adult. A doll house sat in the corner with dolls still inside, a memory of the last time she had played with them. Teddy bears that had eventually fallen off the bed when she was sat. Pink walls with brown, white, and gold for the future. A color pallet reminding him of something else in particular.

✮✮✮✮

“Nique~” She moaned sweetly, her hands gripping the sheets underneath her as the man above her pushed his hips onto her ass, his piece sinking into her ever so slowly. The stretch was always the same, the thickness of him leaving a burning sensation at her entrance the more he pushed into her, but it only stayed for a few seconds as she adjusted to his size, which was nothing average.

The thrusts were sensual and loving until he leans up off of her and pulls out just a bit further than usual, giving her the room to pull her ass up in the air and put a perfect arch in her back. She began bouncing herself back onto him, gaining speed and momentum as he meets her ass with his hips.

“Oh fuck..” He groans quietly.

His eyes were trained on the motions of her soft skin jiggling with every collide of their bodies. His thrusts only got harder from there, segments of moans falling from the girls lips. He didn’t even have to tell her how wet she was, the squelching sounds erupting from where they connected told her all she needed to know.

Switching the angle of his thrusts, he places one knee onto the bed and leans into her, his hands placed in the middle of her back just to make sure she wouldn’t be able to run from the lethal position. And running, she did not do, couldn’t do because of how he was holding her. Suddenly the bed dipped under them both with the strong force of his thrust making her collapse on her stomach, leaving the girl breathless after calling out to the highest one she worshipped.

“You feel that, baby? I’m in it?” He asks with his breathing unsteady, his balls tightening and her toes curling.

“Yes, Nique!”

She was in shambles trying to keep up with him. She could feel the tip of his dick pressing against her g spot, constantly slamming into it like a button, like he’d get some kind of prize if he pushed it correctly. He fucked her so hard, sweet compliments being the only things that contradicted the rough strokes. She could hear the belt buckle of his pants jingling around his ankles, remembering that they had barely been undressed fully before Unique got impatient and just shoved his pants down and her nightgown up before pushing her to her knees.

As Unique continued on with damn near breaking this girls childhood bed, he thought to himself. This was the pussy that niggas killed for. The type pussy that’d have you bussing back to back without a second thought about a condom. This was the pussy he thought about on those lonely nights when she was mad at him, when he had to take matters into his own hands and desperately jerk himself off, his mouth agape and muscles flexing as he cums all over his stomach to the beautiful thought that was her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She whimpers. At this point she could feel him poking at her stomach and being pressed against the mattress helped nothing. He would probably fuck her through the cushion if he could.

“Uh-huh. Cum on this dick, Princess. Lemme feel you wet this dick up, show me how good I make this pussy feel” He spoke, punching nothing but a thick 9 inch pole into her spine. The man gave her no choice but to scream and give him exactly what he wanted, which was her release.

✮✮✮✮

Between her thighs were messy and wet, coated with a layer of white cream that was from both of them. Unique gently wiped her down with a wet towel, careful not to swipe over her sensitive clit too fast or harsh.

“Shhh—“ She hissed, her thighs almost closing in on his hand. Unique’s eyes flickered from her core up to her expression. “My bad” He simply apologized before tossing away the dirty rag in a hamper next to the bed. Laying next to her on his back, he sighs. “you gon’ learn to stop running from what you love”

She smiles, turning her head to look at the side of his face, getting a view of that nearly perfect profile. “Who says I love you, Unique?”

He smirks. “I don’t need a second opinion on a fact”

And the cycle continues…

✮✮✮✮

Woke up and remembered I forgot the taglist chile! LMFAO(some tags aren’t showing up, dk why!)

🏷️ @thatone-girly @notapradagurl7 @swavydadon @miyahmaraj @planetblaque @msinterlude @milkiboo @bloodripleygal @stevelacyballs @naj-ay444 @blackelysian @shaolyninferno

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sink-me-in-your-ocean · 7 months

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𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 II

How would the Ghouls & Copia manhandle you when you’re being naughty?

Prompt by the illustrious @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

At first, he doesn’t realize why you’re doing what you’re doing

But then he puts the pieces together, and it makes his hands twitch

He makes you lay across his knees, never needing to ask more than once

He’s going to spank you with his gloved hands

He makes you count each one

“How many was that?”

“Five.”

“You’re not counting properly, either that or you’re lying intentionally. I have no idea why you’d do such a thing.”

“I’d never say less with the intention of you giving me more on purpose.”

“I’m beginning to think these punishments aren’t working on you anymore, amore. Let’s try something else...”

Swiss:

Won’t hesitate to put you on a leash when you step out of line

When a leash won’t work he’ll resort to other methods

Ties. You. Down.

He will step back to admire his handiwork on you, after a moment of staring he forgets your transgressions because of how good you look tied up

He’s lost in the sauce

“Sweet fucking hells, you’ve never looked better.”

The gag in your mouth keeps you from speaking.

“Remind me, what were you doing that was so bad earlier?”

“Hrmph - ” The sound was muffled.

“Shhh, don’t talk with your mouth full. Now just stay right there.”

Phantom:

When you act up, it flips a switch in his brain

Picks you up with ease from the side, lifting you bridal style into his arms

The tightness of his grip on you speaks volumes to his possessiveness

He scans for an unoccupied room, hells, even a dark corner to take you

He needs you immediately and he knows you need him just as badly

“Oh you’ve done it now, you’ve got my attention, so let’s go.”

“Phantom, slow down!”

“No. You fired me up now you can bring me back down.” He sets you down once you’re behind closed doors. “On your fucking knees.”

You kneel in front of him, eager to please him after misbehaving.

“Oh fuck, yes, such a good girl, just like that.”

Dewdrop/Sodo:

Misbehaving is a broad term to this ghoul, in fact, he likes when you’re naughty

Except when you give any attention to his brothers

Now that is a sure-fire way to pour gasoline on his flames

He comes up behind you when you least expect it (see where this is going?)

His long fingers wrap around your throat, pressing intentionally on your arteries, your head swooning in seconds

“Don’t go all limp on me yet.”

“But, Dew -” you whimper.

“Come on, you know exactly what you do to me. It was intentional, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I’m going to be very intentional with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight the rest of the night.”

Rain:

He has infinite patience, at least until you vex him

And boy howdy, once you’ve crossed that bridge you’d better be prepared

There’s a determined look in his eye as he stalks towards you

He grabs your wrist, and even if you try to pull away, it’s impossible, his grip strength is too much

He drags you with him through the nearest corridor to a quiet space

“You’re going to be nice and quiet now for me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

His hand clamps over your lips shockingly fast, leaving you a thin line to breathe from your nose.

“I love seeing you get a taste of your own medicine. Don’t like it when I match your energy? Don’t misbehave.”

Mountain:

Sits and watches stoically as you make a fool out of yourself

Doesn’t need to say anything

Doesn’t need to do anything, but he does

He easily scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder

He could spank you from here, but he prefers his partner underneath him (If you know what I mean)

“You do have to do all of that to get my attention, you know.” He plops you on his bed, climbing on top of you.

“I know, but maybe I’m looking for bad attention.”

“Yeah?”

You whine and writhe underneath him as he smacks (not hard) the thickness of your outer thigh.

“That’s what you want? Just ask next time, little villainess.”

Just da bois this time, but if you’d like me to include the ghoulettes pls just comment, I’m happy to oblige a fellow ghoulette lover! ( *︾▽︾)

Ghoulette Version Here!

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wroteclassicaly · 1 year

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so, like, my horny steve thot is almost always the same: i just love the idea of his cock being sooo uncommonly long and girthy that he has to take his sweet time getting you ready and even tho he makes you cum on four fingers and his tongue twice, he still can only fit about half of his cock inside you before you’re crying (crying for more? crying for less? you don’t even know … you’re crying for more probably) :(((( hehe

I know this is way more than a Steve thot, but I do hope you like it anyways? Hehe, thanks so much for sending it in, my dear Cece! I tweaked it a little bit ;)

Note: My vaginismus having ass could not take Steve’s monster very easily (if at all), but this is nice to think about. And I felt like having trouble, even with prep from four fingers (my god, I struggle with sometimes one and definitely two) — is relatable af!

Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, touches on sub space a little bit, mentions oral sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and the reader has a hard time taking Steve, so there’s significant pain. I think that about covers it?

Sometimes you felt as if you were floating. Higher than the tallest cliff hanging off the quarry, rocks jagged and waters a deep, enriching blue, rippling in velvet serenity. Your particles could be scattered to the Midwest winds and you’d have yet to realize, halfway through time — maybe even space…? It happens more and more frequently now, tonight is no different.

You shift, one jut of your knee that slides into a slippery sloping press, his wiry leg hairs tickling your calf. He moves, widening your right thigh, your ankle sliding across your rose colored bed sheets, and back behind his slender form, where he’s kneeling in front of you. An electric heat flows so hot between your legs that the cool air rushing in hurts. You fist your own fingers into your air, massaging, tugging, neck stretching to expose the delicate tendons that run up your throat — ones he’s littered in his claims. God if he could suck them raw, nip the sore flesh into his teeth, enough that you whimper again, opening yourself just the way he needs you to…

Your arm is still thrown above your head, the outline of your forearm pressing into your pillow, your kiss-swollen lips shiny with spit and dormant pleas that he’d heard not long ago. He’s tried to say a few words, even used his palm to push down on your abdomen, still four knuckles deep into your soaking wet pussy. It’s to no avail, your eyes completely glassy, lash line soaked, gaze fucked over and reaching outer limits — a place he can only imagine what’s it like (from your perspective, anyways). He knows this path you go head first into. The books and magazines he had read a long time ago in his High School days mentioned how sex is obviously different for girls, how they can experience things more intensely sometimes.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for this. The very first time it happened coincided with a two hour long foreplay. Steve remembers it like the back of a Farrah Fawcet spray canister. He was prepping you to take him — all nerves and mangled, panting breaths. One finger and his mouth on your neck, two found his lips sucking underneath your jaw line and crooking against that spot just right, three had you stifling whimpers into his neck and riding his splayed palm that stayed drenched, and four… Well, four was an unremarkable set of attempts that took up the better part of the second hour.

You’d done it with Steve’s patience, his languid coaxing. And when you had berated yourself for being unable to take it much past the tip of the fourth, he’d slid between your legs and lifted them apart, his tongue finding your creamy opening and helping himself. You lost count on how many fuses he’d lit and caused to explode, only touching your senses upon hearing Steve hiss out a yes when his fourth finger easily joined the other three. It took a few minutes with him talking to you, high on a raspy ease, a delicious chorus of praises pouring off his lips — then you were back. Some sort of transitioning space, Robin had told him when he couldn’t help but to ask, wondering if it was too much for you.

And that fed into Steve’s addiction to satiate his hunger for seeing you in such an uncaring, completely melted state. All because of him.

He grabs your chin with a calloused thumb and pointer finger, pinching to tilt, your lips catching his and separating in an easy smack. His nose tucks into your cheek, another glide of his mouth, four fingers turning back into three and a stretch, and you inhale sharply — everything coming back into focus. Your breath is winded, bosom heaving and nipples dragging across his tufts of chest hair. He’s so fucking warm, his freckle splattered skin stained red with flush, his aftershave sinking into the corners of your mouth, stubble tickling your chin, and inky pupils littered with cinnamon rings. His brows pinch together, pearly white teeth grinning lazily as he presses another kiss to your mouth the moment that you sigh into a shared breath.

“Welcome back, baby.”

His free hand reaches for your forearm above your head, fingers sliding along damp and salty skin, tickling across your palm and lacing with your own digits — squeezing.

“Mhm. Stevie…” His thick fingers buried in that scorching mess between your thighs is suddenly on the forefront. Holy shit he’d gone to town on you. The evidence has slicked down your ass and onto the bed sheets, that’s no secret.

“I tap out again for a second? Fuck, you’re so good.” You coo at him, enjoying how his eyes light up in a mirth unmatched.

He hooks your right leg around his lower waist, leaving the other lowered to where you’ve got it propped. His eyes find yours and he drinks you in as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, both of you letting out a choked moan. His thumb pad caresses your clit, his digits smacking your cunt and scattering some arousal. You jump, toes curling, digging into his waistline.

“Shit, honey, let me taste you first.” He’s teasing, smirking that Steve Harrington smirk, popping his sopping fingers into that plush mouth, making a real diabolical show of it.

You practically chase his touch, eager to sample yourself — whatever he’ll let you have. He wiggles his shiny fingertips and barely touches your bottom lip, teasing you, making you raise up — the action causing his very prominent erection to nudge your folds. You jump a little, that instinctual preparation that promises a very defining pain — working its way to the forefront. Steve shakes his head and swipes his fingers across your mouth, planting them on your hip to massage in soothing circles. You’re so fucking wet that you’ve already soaked him, and that makes holding back from taking what he wants that much harder.

“Easy, okay? Haven’t even tried to put it in yet. You know I’ll always ask you before I do, right?”

You nod, breathing in a few self-comforting breaths. It’s not that you’re terrified of the pain. Hell, your little kinky ass indulges in it most of the time, but there’s also that percentage that is nervous, that worries about how much it usually does hurt, (despite many orgasms and lubrication), or if you won’t be able to take him at all this time. His walnut strands tickle your cheek as he descends to nuzzle your nose with his own, reassuring hand still on your hip.

“You want it like this tonight?”

You nearly combust on the spot, body bowing to a magnetizing nostalgia of various positions he’d fucked you in; nice and deep, or ever-so-slow and fucking filthily. You can almost taste his sweat from thrusts he’s yet to initiate, feel the goosebumps pepper your flesh as his silky mane tickles your forehead, maybe even your neck and shoulder (it all depends on which way he has you, really). You aren’t quick enough to draw in your timid answer, starting to slip again, preparing to drift and seek him out. His fingers leave your hip and pull down on your bottom lip, releasing it with a plop as the digits head towards your jaw — strumming a slow scrape. “Babe?” He’s amused, questioning. “How do you want me?”

“I..” And your throat feels like it’s overworked, yet you’ve barely spoken. It drips with elated exhaustion, slowly clambering upright. “Right where you are. Get the stuff, honey.” You flip his nickname for you back onto him, and it has a reaction that crashes into his chest, making it swell in size for you.

He nods immediately, the hand that’s holding yours — leaving, but only to work open the bedside drawer in haste, fumbling clumsily as he decides to capture your bottom lip between his teeth — leaving little love pecks as an after motion. You can barely leave his mouth, his neck straining and flushed bright red, caked in sweat. He rolls back on his haunches, his heavy cock bobbing against his stomach and leaving a connective trail of your slick and his pre-cum to both, your thighs and his.

“Jesus,” he mutters in awe. You’re always so wet for him.

You do shift a little, relaxing your legs around his lower back and connecting your ankles. He has the lube bottle in hand, cracking its lid and wiggling his brows at you. A silent signal not missed, you present your palm and he squeezes out a good amount of gel in, tossing it onto the nightstand beside your head. And fuck, you really wish you had your Polaroid right now, because watching him inhale through clenched teeth, toned waist giving into a bunch, and licking a sharp swipe of his tongue across his lips, the moment that your hand is reaching forward to take him in your grasp — it’s forever seared into your pitiful, Steve-stamped retinas. Screw your pupils, might as well be little Steve’s there instead.

His breath trembles, caressing his tongue, body unprepared as your fingertips tap a tempo up his shaft, barely grazing, before moving back down again. His cock twitches, jumping in your hand, and that’s the moment that you take your chance and wrap your fist around him. He falls forward on hefty palms, fingers splayed beside your head, bunching your sheets in a white knuckled grip. This is one of the parts that you absolutely go to the outer limits for.

He mouths at your jugular, nose pathing up your neck and dragging across your chin until he’s able to kiss you and pant against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Use it however you want to. S’ all yours. Don’t need to be afraid of it. ”

That first sticky contact where he’s finally parting your folds turns you into a babbling mess, a wanton whimper tangled at your tongue’s tip. The fingernail of Steve’s thumb scrapes at your chin, tugging and encouraging your sounds to spill free. When you oblige, he slides that very digit into your mouth and presses, salt, his saliva, and your own musky essence pouring over your taste buds.

“That’s my good girl — shit!” You roll your tongue around his finger and take him down to the knuckle, your fist gliding across his length at an easy rhythm in a simultaneous thievery.

“Monster madness.” You whisper, letting your tongue flick around his thumb, before releasing.

He meets your mouth in a shared grin — all teeth, light laughs. “So I own a monster and a python, huh?” He winds your hair back behind your ear and you know it’s almost time. Your grip on him has loosened a little.

You share a heavy stare, a connection that doesn’t falter, even through one raise of his bushy brows. You watch in a marveling, drool-lathered wonder as the tendons in his wrist flex when his fingers separate, pushing your folds apart. They disconnect with an audible squelch, making you grip him tightly again — squeezing. A diagram-deep groan punches through his esophagus and claws its way from his mouth. “Oh. Fucking do somethin’, honey. Please…”

His voice sounds wet, like a hurricane is rising inside his lungs, battering his insides, and threatening to flood his throat — a desperation that finds an adjoining link within your own desires. As he still holds you open, you bring his purpling tip to your swollen clit, and with a blinking of newly tear stained lashes — you use him. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, another beading escaping him and helping the friction you’ve begun to stimulate you both with. Your knee jerks and he thrusts into your hand, his thick, full balls catching on your ass, your wetness having found a home there too. It’s all too messy to comprehend a clean up. And he doesn’t want to, if he’s being honest.

“Baby, you have the prettiest clit. God it feels so good, you know that? Don’t stop for me.” He’s shaking in his forearms, biceps rattled, muscles caving in. He’s not even inside of you yet and he’s already drenched and throbbing, about to blow his load.

Luckily, you know him as well as he knows you. And you release, quickly lifting your ass in a slight wiggle, legs still locked and now wound around his lower back. You give him one pleading command. “Split me open, Stevie.”

He takes an intoxicating initiative, finding your left hand to hold on tight, fingers leaving your cunt and wrapping around his glistening base, curls matted with your cream. This isn’t gonna last long. “Need more lube, baby?” He checks one last time, your head shaking

You’re fucking warm and soft when he drags his dick through the seam of you, teasing, slapping your inner thigh, your clit, finally teasing his head to that ring of nerves. “Fuck.” His hand lifts on your hand, knuckles smashing into your pillow case, palms held and fitted. You’re relaxed enough that you’re close to sucking him right in, and as soon as the head pops past your opening, he sees your eyes fill with tears. You dig your nails into the top of his hand, scratching, nearly breaking skin. What comes out of your mouth before he can say anything shocks him.

“H-hold on. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s lips find your neck and they suck, bite, licking clean the evidence of a beginning claim. He has to stop himself from fucking you up the bed at this new knowledge. “Oh yeah? Feels that good?”

“Just go slow.” You whimper into a kiss he bestows, tongue greedily slinking into his mouth to take what you want.

He sees what you mean when he presses in a little more and is flooded with a fresh wave of cream, his eyes rolling back and clouding over. And that’s the moment he knows that he has to check in, because you sniffle. There it is.

“Honey? You alright?”

You’re trying to say you are, but it comes out as a broken “mhm” and you lick your lips, eyes focusing on the ceiling, sclera burning. It fucking stings, your body is telling you what it knows — that it’s gonna be too much, that you’ll be sore. But he’s so warm, so heavy inside, and he isn’t even completely there. You try to shove your hips and seek out more, only to be rebuffed. “Baby…” he warns, composure tilting over that precipice, wavering.

And the air changes, your body goes light, and that’s it.

“Come here.” Your hand that’s unheld, is digging into his hair, its soft strands becoming rising waves in the gaps between your fingers, tumbling over yourself to get to his mouth.

His knees help keep him above you, or else he’d collapse. You breathe in deep, releasing it against his lips when you part, your nipples prodding at his slippery flesh. Smashing your nose into his own, he nudges, he shifts, and you’re caught — his thick cock sinking into you. It’s not even half, but you cling to Steve through gasping cries and tear splattered lips, everything aching and throbbing. Your heart is racing so hard that you’re sure your bones are being dusted to ash.

Despite the nearly unbearable fire his size carries, your body welcomes him halfway in without anything else needed. Steve pauses, not just for you, but for himself and the ridiculous choppiness that he can’t even call breathing. He lifts your combined hands and kisses each finger, making you tighten around him and his hips shove forward. You both curse and he apologizes, to no avail. You’ve begun to beg him, and he thinks he might be in his own transitioning space.

“Honey — Baby, hold on, m’ tryna make it better for you.”

“More, I want it all, S-Steve… Don’t stop!”

“But you’re tensing on me —“

“Please, oh god, please — Steve!”

His control vanishes and his closed fist reaches the bottom of your folds as he helps himself push the rest of the way in — in two swift, squelching glides. His tip finds that spot right away, settled like a flesh tight glove, and it sets off a series of sparks, your throat barely able to let out a scream before your release squirts from your cunt and reaches the happy trail scattered around Steve’s navel. Yep, it’s over. He pulls your linked hands up and drapes them by his neck, pumping his hips on one good time, forehead sticking to yours, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, and he comes. Your exposed hands that aren’t together, they find one another and match the other two, lacing, pieced just right.

Steve crumbles and collapses on you, your breasts dripping with combined exertion, his pulse racing to stabilize, face burrowing on the swell of your chest. It’s a few silent moments — his cock softening inside you, your cunt brimming with his warm spend, and then he’s looking up at you from his spot. That five o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, his pupils trying to normalize, and fuck — his own eyes have spilled moisture. Every freckle and mole is visible, his easy grin and silent apology starting, but you brush the hair of his forehead, enjoying his reddened cheeks.

“I love you, honey. Are you okay? Want me to—“ His own voice sounds discombobulated.

“Stay a little while with me, like this? Inside?” Is your airy soft response.

And now, now you think that Steve will be floating over the quarry with you. Particles that fuse together. Of time and space.

// eat me paragraph //

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cameronspecial · 5 months

Text

I Will Love It, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe wants to make their house a home for Y/N.

Masterlist

Being married to Rafe is the most amazing stage of Y/N’s life. She didn’t think he could’ve gotten more loving and attentive, but he did. When they moved into their house in the Outer Banks, he did the whole carrying her across the threshold thing and his husbandly duties didn’t stop there. He helped in every possible way to bring their house together and create their home. He gave his input on the paint colour, couch swatches, what style of furniture he wanted and anything else she would ask him. Even going as far as buying a few decorations he sees in the store and thinks she would like. Every time he would meet her with the same adorable nervousness of her not liking it, which she would always reassure him she does like it. This house is really starting to feel like theirs.

Rafe knows Y/N has been dreaming of a built-in bookshelf in the room that is going to be their office and Rafe is dying to make that happen for her. Sarah took Y/N out for the day under the pretense of showing his wife the island that is now her home. This allows him to work on his project for her. He enlisted the help of Sarah’s pogue friends because he knew he wasn’t the most masterful with his building. He isn’t their biggest fan, but he can put their differences aside for the sake of Y/N.

“We just have to nail the last top face frame rail and then we are ready to paint,” Rafe confirms with the others. Pope nods, “Yeah. Although, she won’t be able to put anything on it until after twenty-four hours, so I don’t know if you want to wait to show her.” “I think I’m too anxious to wait. I need to know what she thinks right away. What if she doesn’t like it?” Rafe frets, not seeing that he is holding the wood up crooked. JJ hits the back of his head, “Snap out of it. You aren’t holding it straight.” Rafe fixes his hold on the wood so that JJ can nail it into place. John B is the one to reassure his, hopefully, far-future brother-in-law. “Don’t worry, Dude. You said that she’s been showing you pictures of these bookshelves, so you know what she wants. Plus, she’ll just be touched by the gesture even if it isn’t exactly what she wants,” John B promises, slapping the husband’s back. “Thanks,” Rafe whispers.

———

The big reveal is quickly approaching and Rafe feels the sweat on his palms. He wipes it off on the towel in his hand. The front door opens and he swears as he realizes he won’t have enough time to get cleaned up. He runs to greet the girls and is met by a questioning look from his wife. She sets the bags in her hand down, “What’s with the paint?” “Uhh, I’ve been working on a project for you, but I’m not sure I want you to see it,” he confesses, walking over to pick up the bags and kiss her. She returns the kiss, “Why don’t you want me to see it?” “Because I don’t think you will like it. So I’m going to have to take it down and pay a professional to make a better one,” he explains. He pulls out his phone to call the pogues back to take down what they had built not even twenty minutes ago.

Y/N takes his phone out of his hand and makes him look at her. “You don’t have to do that. Just show me what you did. I’m sure I will love it, Rafe,” she comforts him, placing her hand in his. He lets out a breath and takes her upstairs to their office. He opens the door to reveal the labour of his day. Her eyes set on the bookshelves and she lets out a squeal. Her arms wrap around his neck. She kisses him on the cheek, “Rafe, I love it. This is incredible. Thank you so much. You are really making this place our home.” He gives her a kiss of his own with a massive grin. “You’re welcome, Angel. I would do anything to make you feel comfortable. I want you to love this space as much as I love you.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

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angsthology · 6 months

Text

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

the misadventures of being the only female f1 driver through the eyes of the grid’s renowned snoopy-loving kangaroo

mostly thank u to @sebscore and @disneyprincemuke for the idea of fem!driver on the grid (i love both of them by them please check it out)

anyway! these are mostly from random spurts of thought i have along with memories of my toddler self who wanted to be race car driver! (did not in fact become one btw. im somehow becoming a law student instead). i also try to not use any y/n (which so far i have succeeded in, hopefully, hehe) and psa, she is often implied as a non-european. (well more on how i write her cause i write what i know)

also, apologies in advance, this is going to have a LOT of projecting <3

talk to meee!!1! (or maybe request just whatever)

tag << everything rvstw (asks, brainrots, & more!!)

ABOUT THE DRIVER

☆ introduction

a little intro into our driver and the likes of her (hcs)

☆ re-intro

idk car stuff and some designs

☆ more

just random stuff about her

☆ behind the driver

behind every little gremlin is a group of tired adults

ROOKIE ERA (2022)

☆ the origin story

the journey of when what and whys of our driver

☆ the kangaroo!

the story of how she got the nickname “roo”

☆ the gig

she’s... in a band?

☆ the presence

roo has been acting a little too quiet and when the drivers take notice of it they had to ask

☆ the figure

it started as an accident, ended with family

☆ the dye

who told him this was a good idea?

☆ the m problem

so... we need to talk about roo?

OH, WELL, THE MORE YOU KNOW! (2023)

☆ the rise

lets get the year started, yeah?

☆ the button (–2024)

it went from that to this

☆ the kid

she forgets things, it’s not her fault

NEW YEAR, NEW ME (2024)

☆ the shoot

welcome to 2024! who is this person...

☆ the streak

she is posessed by the demon (her real self)

☆ the girls

at times like these she really misses her girls

HOLIDAY HURRAHS (from summer break to winter breaks)

☆ secret santa

the process of how the 2023 secret santa went

☆ beach day

spending the day at the beach with a large group of f1 drivers may seem like a good idea until you remember some of them are literal children

☆ beach day the sequel

the consequences of your actions and some more actions

PADDOCK ENCOUNTERS (misc & shorts)

☆ chilli-pepper

☆ sold

☆ teenagers and baseball gears

☆ roo vs. the cameraman

BEST OF ROO (the compilations)

☆ radio

☆ incorrect

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS

☆ after the gig

☆ what’s your roman empire?

☆ there’s another side that you don’t know

☆ into outer space

#tine’s roo vs the world

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persefolli · 4 months

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐱 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐬, 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐀𝐠𝐞-𝐆𝐚𝐩

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐉𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐥

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Okay, Y/n, they're all yours.”

A heavily pregnant Neytiri bid you goodbye before leaving her home. You were entrusted to watch both of the clan leaders' children, Neteyam, and Kiri, while both of the Sully parents worked during the day. Although it was two of them, and two kids, Neytiri still seemed as if she carried the load, which was the reasoning behind her exhaustion and irritability.

Jake lingered around the home a lot, his meetings were held locally, and he usually had one or two na’vi runners to spread any news or plans he had to other clan members. From the outside, he seemed like a very hands-on leader, but after watching it play out behind closed doors, he was actually very lazy at times.

You sat on the floor of the living space, watching the two toddlers as they crawled all over you. From nowhere, Jake came and scooped up his eldest son. “Arg! You gonna be good today? Hm boy?” He held and shook Neteyam in the air playfully. THe boy did nothing but let out a loud scream. Jake chuckled and set him down, watching as Neteyam crawled back over to you. .

“Seems he likes you more than me.” He smiled, which made his outer eye corners crinkle. Jake was younger than previous Olo’eyktan’s, physically at least, but it seems his duties aged him by a mile. “That’s okay,” He said with a sigh. “We all like Y/n. Isn’t that right?” He looked between the two children who paid no mind to him and paid more attention to the bright colored beads that were in your hair.

You blushed slightly and looked back towards the kids. Amongst your friends, Jake was ranked at the top of the list for the most attractive men in the clan. He was strong, and willing to break tradition, and what na’vi girl didn’t like men who rebelled? Your friends and your sisters might've been calling him fine as a harmless comment, but you deluded yourself into forming a small crush on him. The more you were around him the more you felt a certain pit building in your stomach. It was embarrassing to admit but unlike your peers you've never felt the touch of a man. Being in Jake’s presence sent your skin ablaze, and his voice almost made you combust into flames. You knew it was wrong to lust over your older, married Olo’eyktan, but the thought of him having so much more experience made you hot in certain places.

“Guys like straightforward girls, girls who know what they want.” Your sister said to no one directly. “That's true actually.” One of her friends spoke up. “I fucked Sulak and his friend because I wanted to. Now look at all three of us, a beautiful couple…throuple.” You often found yourself in the middle of these discussions with your older sister and her friends, not so much talking but certainly listening. Mental notes were scribed in your head, and as much as you wanted to use those notes, you couldn't help but save them…for Jake.

You babysat the Sully babes everyday, at this rate, but it was all a part of a long plan you planned on carrying out. You built the courage to speak to Jake, managing to initiate conversations on your own. Jake was a funny man, often cracking jokes and making you funny shaped carvings to take home. You felt he was drawn to you as you were to him. You came close to flirting with him so many times, but right when you were about to hit your mark, one of the two children you were watching came to bother you.

But boy was Eywa on your side.

“I'm going to need you to stay a few nights. Or if you wish you can leave later and come earlier, I'll add on to your pay.” Neytiri requested. She reached the point in her pregnancy where she would go into the forest with her mother and complete her journey. It was a secretive ritual that some na’vi women participated in before giving birth.

“I can come earlier.” You agreed. “Will Jake be leaving with you?”

“No. This is between me and my mother.” She said a little coldly. “He will be here, or anywhere else.”

You nodded in response, feeling a bit bad for Jake, but strangely this wasn’t out of the ordinary. All the time you spent babysitting, you noticed that Jake and Neytiri were never intimate with one another. No goodbye kisses or good morning hugs, just wake up and head straight to work. That could be something you can use against him, the lack of affection he got. As promised, Neytiri left and you were now alone with the two Sully kids and Jake. With Neytiri’s absence, he became more…lively. He cooked breakfast in the mornings and helped you with playtime before he had to leave for the day. Jake was out of the house more, but he seemed more expressive when discussing any plans for the future of the clan with trusted members. Maybe Neytiri was the issue.

As time passed, you decided it was go time.

You put the two Sully kids down for a nap and sought out Jake. Each step you took down the hallway felt heavy, but you eventually found him. He was in his room messing around with some stuff, and you stood in the doorway.

“Hey.” He acknowledged you without turning to look at you. “The kids sleep?”

“Yes.”

“If you want you can go hang with your friends. I know you've been tired of us.” He joked.

“I like being here. It's not all bad.”

Jake scoffed, like he was in disbelief a girl like yourself would actually enjoy babysitting for them. A beat of silence passed between you two before you finally spoke up.

“Do you think I'm beautiful?” You blurted. That probably wasn't the best line to start with, but your sister did say straightforwardness was the key. If he thought you were pretty, you might have a better chance.

“Uh…I think..yeah, you’re a very beautiful girl.” He nodded. “Easy on the eyes, I'm sure all the warriors want your hand in marriage.”

“I’m still a virgin you know.”

Jake turned around and looked at you with a struck expression. It wasn’t in your nature to be vulgar, and you always came with bright beads and a high-pitched voice, ready to care for his kids, but now, you just…shifted.

“Good for you.” It was clear he didn’t know how to respond. He then smiled, “It’s always good to protect yourself, and not be pressured by your peers. Trust me the things you hear as Olo’eytkan...maybe it's good you’re protecting that.”

“I don’t wanna be a virgin.” Your voice got curt.

“Why?”

“Because I'm in my 20’s. And everyone has had an experience at least by 17, I-I like you Jake.”

He looked at you with soft eyes and nodded, finally understanding all the not-so subtle subliminals you’ve been throwing at him. “You like me?”

“You’re smart, you're a strong leader…you care about this clan, you care about your family. I need that in my life.”

Jake scoffed and turned back around, you stood and walked closer. “You’re masculine, my sister says masculine men are the best..they’ll make you feel…I feel like a real girl around you.”

Jake sighed deeply and set aside his bow and arrow. “Listen to me Y/n, I have to explain something to you. I-I’m older than you…I’m wiser, and I know some things. I know that this is just a bump in the road for you, and you will look back and realize that…your judgment was clouded.” He reassured you. “This is not what you want sweetheart.”

“But-”

“I’m old enough to be your father. I’m not as mobile as I used to, I get sore in the morning…and hell, I used to be human. You don’t want that.” He tried his very best to convince you to get over the crush you had on him. But he didn’t seem to notice it wasn’t working. “Hey…I know a few warriors. Let’s get you a nice guy…get to know him, learn to trust him, and maybe you’ll share a bond.”

You sighed and untied your top and let it fall to the floor. Jake sighed deeply and attempted to cover his eyes. “Hey…Y/n don’t-” He moved to grab a nearby blanket and used it to cover up your exposed breasts. “Jake,” You said desperately, “I don't feel like a real girl I-I can't do this with anyone else but you. I want you Jake! I'm certain! If you think I'm pretty, you would do this one thing for me. Please? I'll go away after I'll-” He shushed you and walked over to the doorway, pulling you into his body, and closing the curtain. “You don’t have to go.” He said. “One favor…i’ll do it once, because you’re a sweet girl.”

You nodded and he guided you to the middle of the room, sitting you on the floor. He moved slowly, or at least that's what your nerves made it seem like. Jake pushed your stray hair behind your ear and leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips. You kissed back, savoring the taste and feeling of his lips against yours. He then trailed his kisses down, kissing your lips, your cheek, your neck, then your collarbone. His large hand caressed your thigh, and under the flap of your skirt, getting dangerously close to your core. “Can I touch you here?” He asked, inching closer.

“Mhm.” You nodded.

“Here?” His fingers grazed over your undergarments. You let out a small gasp, feeling the heat radiating from his hands.

“Yes.” You wanted to squirm but you stayed planted in place, frozen in anticipation.

His finger looped around your underwear and he gently stroked the sensitive fleshed that was underneath. You whimpered softly and watched his veiny hand flex and stretch as he kept his movements minimal. He groaned, feeling your wetness, and he felt his own self getting aroused. He pulled away, resulting in a dejected sigh from you.

“Lay back.” The two of you shifted and he untied your skirt, pulling it off, before sliding off your underwear, completely exposing you to him. He let out a breath and kneaded the inside of your thighs. Jake untied his own cloth and threw it to the side, situating himself on top of you. He didn't allow you to look down, because if you looked down, he knew you would get nervous.

“It might hurt okay?” He cooed. “Look at me.”

You looked up at him with innocent and watery eyes, which drove him crazy. Your scent, your arousal, it was blurring his mind. “It hurts. We stop.” He reassured again. You nodded and looked up at his ceiling, prepared for the oncoming pain, but it wasn't what you expected. You felt him prodding at your entrance, and listened to him grunt as he slowly entered you.

You let out a gasp, feeling the foreign stretch inside of you. Jake got about a third in before he stopped. “You okay.”

You nodded, letting out a small whimper. He inched further into you, and that's when you moaned, feeling a small tickle, a pleasurable one. You began to clench around his cock. “That’s it.” He groaned.

The two of you shared synchronized groans and melodic moans as he deepened his thrusts and found a pace that was satisfactory for the both of you. You admit, it was a bit awkward, because it was your first time and the two of you were just hunching on the ground. You knew it wasn’t gonna be the hot and rough like your sister described, but you also enjoyed watching Jake take his time. He kept his large hand on your cheek as he thrusted into you, biting his lip to muffle himself. He bent down and latched his lips onto your neck, sucking on the flesh softly. You moaned at the gesture and fluttered around him again, causing him to jolt and hiss. “Fuck I- Shit!” He quickly pulled away and released under you, panting. “I'm sorry, shit.” he cursed himself.

You sat up and looked at him confused. “What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

“No sweetheart.” He chuckled. “I just…I haven't been intimate in so long. Guess I dont have much endurance anymore either.”

“But Neytiri is pregnant, no?”

“Only lasted long enough to knock her up. I haven't felt tied to her in a while. Not even during sex. It’s been years.”

You nodded, confirming the disconnect the two lovers had. They weren’t in love anymore, and they weren’t even trying to hide it.

“I'll tell you what.” He came close again, placing a kiss on your lips. “I owe you. I’ll teach you anything you wanna know.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

#jake sully x reader #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader smut #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar #persefolli #persefolliwrites

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elen-aranel · 3 months

Note

Dearest darling Elen, when last was it that I bothered you with the idea of Regency!Pike?

Old friend of the family, Captain Pike, who was your brother's commanding officer on the good ship Enterprise, and who was invited to winter at your parent's house?

Who agrees to chaperone you and one of your suitors in the parlor, whom he finds most unimpressive

Who encouragingly offers, "He's kind," When your suitor leaves, and guffaws when you counter: "He's an idiot."

Dany my love I am sorry to take so long to reply to this ask but I have been rotating this idea in my mind, considering it, researching it, enjoying it

“An idiot? That may be, but he’s an idiot with a large estate, and important friends.” The captain shrugs. “He might be Sir Idiot before all is said and done.”

“And am I to be Lady Idiot?” You rise, feeling as though the walls of the drawing room are drawing closer. Feeling the need to move. “I’ve never aspired to jewels and pin-money. A clergyman like my father would have at least been to Oxford. Or someone like—”

You bite your tongue.

You were about to say someone like you.

But Captain Pike… whose company is so entertaining, whose contributions to conversation can be so stimulating… who is so handsome — far better looking than the idiot, or any of the small number of other men who have paid attention to you — has shown you no particular partiality. He is simply a friend.

“Someone like…? Is there another gentleman whose attentions you would prefer to entertain? Perhaps you would like me to accompany you on a walk next time?”

“Oh, no.” You can see you have piqued his curiosity, but you move to stifle it. You shake your head, meet his eyes and put sincerity into your voice. “There is no one else.”

You find you’ve wandered to the window, and you peep out between the curtains. The gilded carriage is passing through the gate, taking your suitor away.

You turn back to Captain Pike. “I merely meant to say, someone I can talk to. But I had rather be an old maid, and dote on my nephews and nieces. My brother’s children.”

He stands, and joins you by the window. “Your brother is young yet, and the sea is a dangerous place.” His tone is serious for a moment, and you almost see storms in his blue eyes. But they turn amused, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “And I might not promote him to Lieutenant.”

You roll your eyes — you know him well enough to know his words are a provocation, nothing more. But he has a point — your brother cannot inherit your father’s livings. He will need the patronage of others to make his way in the world.

“Papa would appeal to the Admiral if you don’t. Fine, then, a governess, or a teacher at a school for girls. Or perhaps I shall cut my hair, don my brother’s clothes, and run away to sea myself. I don’t believe I would be the first to do such a thing.”

He raises his brows at that, surprised, then tilts his head, studying you. He was curious before, but this is something more. Still, you meet his gaze, and the moment holds.

“And how would a fine lady such as yourself like the sea, and all the privations we face in the Navy? Surely your brother has written to you of the hardships he faces aboard my ship?”

You incline your head. “He has indeed, on many occasions. And I know I would not… relish… engagements with the Spanish. But he has also written to me of palm trees, distant shores… sunlight sparkling on the ocean. I feel sure I could become accustomed to hard work, if it meant I was able to see some more of the world. If it gave me even some measure of the freedom that I lack in my present station.”

You sigh, looking out of the window again, to the tiny part of the world you know. “I suppose I shall have to marry the idiot, to protect my dear mamma in years to come if nothing else. And I do understand my fortune, truly. But… my dowry is next to nothing, and there are many other ladies who would near kill to be mistress of Hampton Park. Why does the idiot press these attentions on me?”

The door opens and your mother bustles in, followed by the housemaid laden with a fresh pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

But you don’t think you imagine hearing Pike mutter, “Why indeed?” to himself in answer to your question.

#elen answers #regency!pike #christopher pike x reader #I actually did do research you know I read like three or four blogs about the navy in regency times #it was really interesting! I enjoyed it a lot #youvebeenlivingfictional #writings of the girl from outer space #Dany tag

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revasserium · 6 months

Note

beloved with zoro opla :O?

kiss me sweet, swallow me whole

opla!zoro; 2,155 words; nsfw, fem!reader, smitten!zoro, established relationship, fingering, p in v sex, "baby girl"/"baby", no "y/n", tummy shot, drowsy morning sex, pwp

summary: sleepy, emotional morning sex w/ zoro; that's it, that's the plot

a/n: extremely self-gratuitous zoro smut for my 2k celebration bc why not

He breaks you like a promise, cracks you like lightning over his storm-ridden skies. He kisses you like you might have forever buried beneath the heat of your tongue, like if he just kissed you hard enough and deep enough he could pull the essence of you into his mouth, swallow it like sunken treasure. He kisses you greedy; he kisses you sweet and urgent and needy. He kisses you and you kiss him back and the pair of you trade your breaths as if you’re going to live underwater or in outer space — just like this, his breath for yours and yours for his, back and forth till neither of you knows where one ends and the other begins.

Truth tangles like sunlight against the morning seas, flickering and fractured.

Heat breaks between your bodies, and you think you can taste the shape of his grin against your lips. You pull back to catch him chuckling.

“Morning,” you say, leaning in to skim your teeth against his bottom lip.

He lets out a soft groan, surging forward to slot your mouth against his, thumb stroking along the line of your cheek, down your jaw to hold you close, hold you open —

“Morning…” he murmurs, when he finally pulls away again, your foreheads pressed, his nose nudging yours once before he trails his lips down to your neck. You feel his breath there, hot and ragged against your pulse. You hiss as you feel him, hard and insistent on your hip, his leg pressing up between yours, chasing white-hot tingles of pleasure up beneath your skin.

“Good dreams?” you ask, letting your eyes flutter closed as he mouths at the sensitive skin of your neck, his large, warm palms skimming down the length of your body, skating along the ridges of your ribs, down till they settle on the soft plush of your thighs and squeeze. You can’t help but whimper; his lips tug into a satisfied grin against your collarbone seconds before he sinks in his teeth just to hear you moan.

“Sure,” he answers, and you can still hear the slur of sleep in his voice, but there’s nothing sleepy about the way his fingers skim into the waistband of your panties, lingering in the dip of your hipbone, “You?”

You press your lips and let yourself sink into the dull, insistent ache of desire, inching your knees apart to allow him more access, your own fingers skimming along the skin of his biceps, up, up, and up till they sink into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Mm… dreamt of you…” you admit in a low, honey-kissed voice.

At this, Zoro laughs, and the feel of it rumbling from his chest to yours makes your stomach tense in anticipation.

“Yeah? Wanna tell me about it?” the dull of his nails drags along your thighs as he slowly tugs your underwear from you, slipping them down your legs till you kick them away, breathless. He pushes himself up, caging you beneath him, the sudden, expectant heat of his erection pressing against your slick folds making your whole body shudder with want.

“Z-Zoro… mngh —” you squeeze your eyes, coherence fluttering from you, quick as sparrow-wings. But he tuts, leaning down bite into your shoulder, the sting making you twitch.

“Tell me.”

You suck in a long breath, forcing your eyes back open as you look up at him, batting your lashes, and he thinks he can lose himself in the caramel thickness of your gaze.

“You — I — ah fuck — “ you whimper pathetically as he leans back to slip a finger along your sodden folds, his neatly filed nails catching on your pulsing clit, making your entire body jerk and arch upwards. He watches with hooded eyes and kiss-bitten lips.

“Sorry — didn’t catch that —”

You whine, barely able to cast him a reproachful look before he pushes a finger deep into you, curling it to skim along where he knows you want him most. You keen, head tipping back to expose your throat. He is mesmerized by the sight of you, taken by the image —

“Zoro!”

He lets out a thick groan, pushing another finger into you, and then another, savoring in the way you quiver beneath him, the stretch of his fingers already setting you on edge. He gives his wrist an experimental flick and smirks, satisfied with the way your whole body shudders. He does it again, and then again.

“Mm — so about this dream…” he says, leaning down to drop a kiss to your collarbone before lowering himself to your tits and licking his lips. He’s never been shy about how much he loves them, the soft fullness that fills his palms so perfectly, the sensitive hardness of your nipples as he rolls them beneath his thumbs. He grins as he uses his free hand to give your right tit a squeeze, relishing the way your skin takes on the imprint of his palm and fingers.

He flicks his thumb against your clit again, pumping his fingers in and out of your needy cunt.

“Tell me about it.”

You shake your head, already incoherent, and he loves you like this — loves to know that he’s the only one who can reduce you to this with a few flicks of his wrist, a few thrusts of his fingers.

“Z-Zoro — need you — w-want you…” your voice is just as broken as his self-control feels as he leans down to mouth at your lips, licking into the heat of your mouth, sucking on your tongue as you whimper once more.

“Need you to use your words, baby girl.”

You whine, writhing beneath him as he pulls all three fingers from you and presses them to your lips. You let your mouth fall open without complaint, taking in his fingers, and he has to bite back a thick groan as he watches the way your tongue flicks out to lick each one of them clean.

“W-want you — want your c-cock —” your voice breaks, almost as if you’re shy about the indecency of the word, but Zoro only grins, pinning both your wrists above your head as he maneuvers himself between your legs and lets the tip of his cock tease against your entrance. You hiss at the contact, hips rucking up helplessly.

“Deep breath, baby,” he says, and for a moment, everything is still and everything is the breath — you feel the air fill your lungs, feel the faint press of his palm against your stomach, and then —

You let out a sharp cry as you feel him thrust into you in one, fluid, endless motion, knocking the breath from you. And then — it is only the stretch and fire, the burn and desire. You think you might go insane with the shape of him filling the shape of you, the push and pull, the force and full —

“F-fuck — more —!” and you’re desperate with it, he knows you are. The way you tug at his arms, the way your body tightens over his cock.

“Yeah? More?”

The bed creaks with the force of his thrusts, and he vaguely wonders how hard he’d have to fuck you before the entire thing breaks. You whine, high and pitched in the back of your throat, your whole body thrumming to the rhythm of his hips. Zoro groans, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck as he ruts into you, hard and fast and reckless.

“— so good — f-feels so — g-good —” your breathless, voice nearly ruined from how hard he’s fucking you, saltine tears kissing the edges of your lashes as you lay beneath him.

“Mm —” and he feels how close you are, feels you fluttering around him, your stomach tensing even as you tug weakly against his hold on your wrists.

“Z-Zoro — gonna — gonna —”

He leans down to capture your lips in his, intent on swallowing down your moans as your toes curl and your knees bend and he feels your climax crashing through you till you’re twitching beneath him, your cunt squeezing down over him, so tight it nearly drives him insane.

“Fuck — fuck, baby…” he groans as he feels your walls clamping down around him, and he pushes through still, feeling the head of his cock as it brushes against the base of your cervix and your entire body jerks at the movement.

“T-too much — Zoro!” you grapple at him, attempt to scramble away, but he’s a greedy man and he pulls you back by your hips, pinning you beneath him with a savage, hunter's grin.

“Yeah? It’s — a lot, hm? Think you can take more?” he asks, sitting back on his haunches now, his eyes half-lidded as he drags you down the length of the bed, nearly mindless with pleasure, fucking into you so fast and hard that your eyes nearly roll back into your head.

“N — ngh — yes —” your voice cracks and he grins, reaching down to pull you even higher over his hips, his fingers digging into your thighs as he hoists your entire lower body up into the air, holding you suspended so you’re helpless to do anything else but let him have his way with you.

“Lemme hear you beg —” he says, his voice slurring with want as he finally lets himself go, chasing his own high.

“Zoro — please, please, p-please!”

“Fuck — shit —” he pulls free of you a second before he cums, splattering your stomach and chest, gasping as he slowly sets you back down on the bed.

You’re both panting, and distantly, you can hear the sounds of the rest of the crew — the dull clank of footsteps, Usopp grumbling about having to pull up the anchor, Sanji calling for breakfast down the hall.

You let out a long breath, peering up at him with a lazy smile.

“You’ve made a mess,” you say, even as Zoro sighs, laughing as he slumps down beside you, nosing into your cheek.

“You helped,” he says, his voice gravely and low and almost accusatory. You crinkle your nose as you strain up to examine the thick ropes of sticky white cum drying on your stomach and chest.

“Mm,” you sigh as you slump back down into your pillows.

Slowly, Zoro pushes himself up and haphazardly wipes away the mess with one of his discarded shirts before tossing it back onto the floor. You make a face.

“Ew, aren’t you gonna wear that later?”

“Thought about it… not anymore,” he says as he slumps back down next to you, pulling the covers over you both and pressing a lazy kiss to your cheek. He loops an arm around you and you sigh into his touch.

You turn your face towards him only to find him smiling. You trace a finger against his cheek and lean in for yet another indulgent kiss. Like this, love is a language both your bodies have always known how to speak, and falling is just the font and the figure.

"You never did tell me about your dream," he says, tracing abstract patterns into your waist. You grin, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks.

"No need -- we just lived it."

Zoro laughs, even as an insistent knock comes at the door.

"Zoro? I know you're in there -- breakfast is ready. If you don't come out soon, Luffy's gonna eat everything," Nami's voice calls from beyond the door.

You groan, burying your face in his chest. Zoro sighs, but doesn't respond.

"Fine then, have it your way," Nami says as she leaves.

“Think we can skip breakfast?” you ask when you finally pull away.

Zoro grunts, “Probably… the cook’ll save something for us if we don’t show up. Even if he bitches about it.”

You giggle, head tipping back as he lays another series of kisses along your neck and collarbone.

“Yeah… he probably will.”

Zoro lets out a long breath as he tugs you into his chest, feeling you relax against the shape of him. He wonders if he’ll ever have the words to tell you what you mean to him — how you’ve grown to become his whole entire world. How there are facets of love he doesn’t know he’ll ever be able to explain — but you make him think that one day, he might be able to learn how to.

“I…” Zoro’s breath tapers off as you shift in his arms.

“Yeah,” you say, looping your arms around his torso and running your fingers against the planes of his back.

“Yeah,” he agrees, letting his body melt into the feel of you, the solidness of your touch, the warmth of the sunlight pouring in from the open window.

“I love you, Zoro,” you whisper, leaning in to press your lips to the place between his eyebrows.

He hums, holding you close, and then closer.

“Me too,” he says, his lips skimming the skin of your collarbone, and he hopes that you understand. The words weigh heavy on his tongue — sweet and salty and somehow, heavier than he’d imagined. He’s told you before, and he’ll tell you again. But sometimes, these words still don’t come as easy as he’d like.

But he hopes you understand.

You smile; you kiss him.

And he knows that you do.

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