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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months

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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3

When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.

It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3

Part two out now!! Read it here.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #marvel

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layla4567 · 5 months

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The Medical

Summary: An incident causes you to have to take care of an injured Sanji.

Warnings: Mention of blood and wounds of course, sword fights, not proofread

Pairing: Sanji!opla x Fem!reader

Wc: 3k

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You could say that it all started when Luffy was the first to get hurt. Days before he had been kidnapped by Arlong and gagged and tied. When they rescued him, Luffy was unconscious due to a blow to the head, and you noticed with horror that he was bleeding slightly on the back, staining his dark curls.

"My God Luffy!! What the hell happened?!"-You shouted as Nami, Zoro and Sanji held him by the legs and arms to take him to his room.

You ran to them so you could heal him. You were in charge of being the "nurse" of the crew. You were not an expert but your intensive care and your desire to help always worked miracles. Despite the few nursing things that were on the ship and your little knowledge, your kindness and maternal affection seemed to be enough when it came to treating wounds.

They gently placed the boy in his hammock, resting his head on a pillow. You approached, worried, rolling up your shirt sleeves, ready to cure him.

"You need something? Do you want us to help you?"-Sanji asked

"No, I want everyone to leave now."

Your authoritarian tone brooked no reply. They knew you were firm when it came to doing your job as a nurse and needed to work alone and quietly. The three nodded silently and left, Zoro being the last to close the door. You turned to see Luffy who was still unconscious and got to work. Gently lifting his head to see the wound better, you brushed away strands of hair until you found it. Luckily it wasn't that big, you carefully disinfected it and put a patch on it so the wound could close.

After a few long minutes the brown boy slowly opened his eyes and woke up. With a grimace of pain he looked at you confused and you gave him a comforting smile, resting your hand on his wrist and caressing the back of his hand.

"Ugh my head... what happened?"

"You received a blow to the head but don't worry, I've already bandaged you up. Now you have to rest for a few days, okay?"

Luffy tried to smile but he still felt like his head was throbbing. Nami, Zoro and Sanji entered the room to see how their captain was doing. They were happy to know that he had finally woken up. Days passed like that and you stayed close to Luffy the whole time so that he wouldn't get bored. For a boy as hyperactive as him, staying in bed resting was a nightmare. He wanted to go sailing and have adventures, but you were firm and convinced him to stay in his hammock.

You went to great lengths to entertain him and provide relief. You read to him, you told him stories from your childhood, you held his hand and drew small circles with your thumb on his arm to calm him down. And little by little all your efforts paid off because Luffy was recovering. Sanji was in charge of feeding Luffy with foods that have protein and fiber to give him energy.

Knock Knock

The cook opened the door entering with a tray of mixed salad with pieces of chicken. Seeing the food, Luffy jumped up in his hammock and licked his lips hungrily. You laughed, shaking your head, and stood up to grab the tray of food.

"Thank you Sanji, you are a charm"-you said smiling

Sanji felt his heart begin to pump more blood upon hearing your sweet words but he simply smiled at you again.

"My pleasure, darling"

You left the tray to Luffy who had already started stretching his arms and flexing his fingers repeatedly as if he were a baby trying to reach his favorite toy and you left the room along with the cook. Sanji had work to do so he returned to the kitchen to continue preparing the next dishes of the day. You sat on a stool sighing tired but satisfied with your work and relieved that Luffy is feeling better. Sanji was cutting carrots when with a small laugh he said

"I'm glad that our captain is better but I almost get jealous seeing that he received so much care"

You rested your elbow on the table and your chin on your hand, looking at him funny. Was he implying that he wanted you to take care of him? You hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid and get hurt on purpose so he could spend more time with you and your miraculous hands.

"I take care of people that's my job Sanji…"

He smiling focused on continuing cutting the vegetables, but you quickly added

"But I take care of each one differently.. if that's what you wanted to know"

You smiled tenderly and mockingly, leaving him speechless. Then he laughed again and smiled at you, biting his lip slightly as he watched you walk away from the kitchen to go to the deck.

WEEKS LATER

And this brings us to today. Days after Luffy's accident he had recovered wonderfully thanks to you. You, Zoro and Sanji had decided to go on a mission together to stop Arlong and his minions, a little revenge for Luffy. The straw hat captain along with Nami tried to stop the fishman and distract him away from where the three of you were. Unfortunately, Arlong's minions were too many and they had you surrounded.

You and Zoro were dedicated to slashing with sabers while Sanji was very good at delivering kicks like a karate fighter. Each dodge was followed by a thrust from you and Zoro also helped you by staying close to you, back to back. Although the cook knew how to defend himself, he did not have any weapon and every now and then you would cast worried glances at where he was to confirm that he was okay. Zoro noticed that your movements were becoming sloppy.

"Y/n focus!"-He said while with a quick movement he cut the torso of an enemy near you.

You growled softly and forced yourself to be more attentive to your surroundings, briefly neglecting your blonde companion. There were already several enemies fallen and there were not many left to take down when a scream froze your blood and made you turn to see where it came from. A fishman had wounded Sanji with his sword near his waist.

"SANJI!!"

You broke away from Zoro and ran towards the blonde boy who was holding his left side as he knelt on one leg with a contorted grimace. You crouched close to him feeling like your world was falling apart and looked closer at the wound. He had a cut on the left side of his waist and was bleeding, soaking his clothes. You swallowed your panic and grabbed Sanji's arm, putting it around your shoulders to lift him up and stabilize him.

"Zoro come help me please!!"-you begged in anguish

He sighed as he stabbed his sword into an enemy to let him fall into the sand. He ran towards you as Sanji growled under his breath. With your help Zoro put the cook's other arm over his shoulders and together they helped him walk. Unfortunately the three of them were on a kind of round rock in the water and had to follow a path of separate platforms to get out of there. So with a lot of effort they had to help him jump.

"Come on Sanji you can do it"

You encouraged him as you grabbed his wrist and held your other hand on his back. Each rock became more difficult and on one Sanji was about to fall to his knees but you caught him just in time.

"I got you"

When you reached dry land, you detached yourself slightly from him and took off his jacket so you could temporarily bandage the wound.

"Dear.. that's not necessary"-He said with a grimace as he held his wound.

"For god sakes Sanji you are bleeding, I think it is necessary"

You took off the scarf that you had on your hip as a belt and wrapped it around his waist, tightening a little so as not to cause hemorrhage and stop the bleeding. As Sanji squeezed the handkerchief he let out a grunt. They soon arrived back at the ship while Nami and Luffy followed them after noticing the cook's condition and having explained to them what happened. Sanji still had an arm on your shoulders so he could walk better.

"Where are you taking him?"-Zoro asked

"To my quarter, now"

You didn't want to waste time, you knew that in your room you would have everything you needed to cure him. This time the wound was more serious and you needed many things to disinfect it. When you got to your room with the others following you, you placed Sanji on your bed, taking care not to touch the wound. You did everything quickly and so nervously that you didn't even realize that the other crew members were with you.

"Let's go, let's leave them alone, c'mon"

Nami pushed Luffy and Zoro towards the door as you thanked her with a nod. When you were both alone, you went to look for a first aid kit and a bucket with water and a clean cloth, your hands were shaking slightly and you were so nervous that you looked like a hummingbird flying frantically from here to there. God you had to act quickly or the wound could get infected and you didn't want that, you couldn't even think about what would happen if you couldn't cure him, if he didn't survive you… you. You felt a hot sting in your eyes and a lump in your throat. Sanji just looked at you realizing your affliction so when you sat on the bed to heal him he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I'll be fine my missus, you are the best nurse I know"

You closed your eyes, lowering your head and laughing softly, no matter how mortally wounded Sanji was, he would always find a way to continue flirting with you. While he was lying down, you removed the scarf from his waist that had gotten stained and you noticed that his shirt was also red on that side. You raised it a little to see the cut and let out a gasp. It wasn't that deep but it was quite big. You grabbed a damp cloth and began to clean the wound and put pressure on it. Sanji grunted again in pain as he felt the pressure of the cloth.

"I'm sorry"

"Don't apologize darling, I know you're being as delicate as possible, as always."

Damn it. His words tickled your stomach as he looked at you with his blue puppy eyes. You avoided looking at him and continued cleaning the wound. The chef in love studied your face as if you were an indecipherable manuscript. He concentrated on your eyelashes, your cheekbones, your lips. Then he looked at your soft hands working his wound and how your fingers lovingly avoided touching the cut.

"You know, despite everything I feel satisfied to finally be able to be part of your magical care, sweetherart"

You laughed, feeling your cheeks turn pink. If he kept calling you cute nicknames in less than 5 seconds you would rush in to kiss him. But you held back and finished cleaning up the traces of blood. You were going to put disinfectant on him when you realized that you couldn't work with his shirt closed and rolled up.

"Sanji…uh"

"Yes? What do you need?"

"I n-need you to open your shirt"-you said in one breath, embarrassed.

He saw you nervous and just smiled "Oh, sure"

The blonde boy quickly unbuttoned from the bottom up, exposing his bare chest. You didn't want to look like a pervert but your eyes quickly strayed to his pecs and abs that were well defined. You blushed and quickly looked at his wound, trying not to see him, Sanji chuckled, amused by your embarrassment. You grabbed a cotton pad with disinfectant and placed a hand on his abdomen to better look at the cut and place the cotton pad properly. When you did that, Sanji gasped, feeling the heat of your fingers near his navel. You mumbled an apology but he let you continue, despite the heat coming from your hand he felt a chill run down his spine.

"Alright I'm almost done, now I have to bandage you. Could you sit down for a few seconds?"

He nodded and slowly sat on the bed next to you, taking care of his movements so as not to awaken a wave of pain on his side, you helped him by keeping a hand on his back. You also told him to take off his shirt so you could bandage him better. Why would you have told him? When he took off his striped shirt you got a better look at his defined torso and broad back. If before your cheeks were rosy, now your whole face was the color of rubies when they shine in the sun. Good heavens, you couldn't take your eyes off his body, his muscles were always hidden, capriciously imprisoned in that striped shirt he always wore and now you could finally see them in all their splendor, free. You were tempted to run your fingers over his skin and caress it but that would have been too much for you and him. Sanji knew you were looking at him and smiled flirtatiously.

"So? Will you finish bandaging me now, miss Y/n?"

You looked into his eyes with enormous surprise, feeling caught red-handed and you shook your head to get rid of the dirty thoughts that had invaded you a while ago. With trembling fingers and your face still red you hurried to wrap the gauze around his narrow waist. You pretended to be calm even though inside you were dying of nerves and certainly having Sanji's eyes boring into you didn't help. Despite the speed you tried to be gentle and considerate with him. When you finished, you jumped up, moving away from him as if he were a hot arm and you sighed in relief, the worst had already happened.

"Thank you very much lovely nurse"

You smiled shyly. Sanji was about to put his shirt back on when you stopped him.

"Wait, your shirt is stained!"-you exclaimed

He seemed to realize it at that moment and looked at the stain. He was going to reply that it wasn't a big deal when you quickly exclaimed again.

"Stay here, I'll bring you a new one."

You trotted towards his room and felt strange when you entered it. It was the first time you were in his room and it was something…so intimate. You felt a chill remembering that he was also in your room now. You quickly grabbed a random white shirt and went back to where he was. He was waiting for you sitting smiling, you gave him the shirt and he stood up to put it on. This time you looked away and covered your eyes to give him privacy. Sanji looked at you and laughed happily, you were standing in front of him and you covered your eyes with your hands as if you were going to play hide and seek, he thought it was cute.

"Ok you can look now"

You slowly uncovered one eye and then the other, how could it be possible that he always looked good in shirts? Sanji threatened to head towards the door but you stopped him by putting your hands on his chest, he looked at you surprised.

"Ah, ah, ah, nothing like that. You will stay here until you recover, like I did with Luffy."

"B-but the food…"

"Don't worry about that, we'll take care of it."

You laid Sanji back on the bed and gave him a kiss on the forehead, brushing away his blonde bangs as you left your room.

"How is he?"-Nami asked you that same afternoon while they were in the kitchen.

"Better, but his wound will take a while to heal."

"And who will make the food?"

"We will, who else but?"

A muffled, mocking laugh was heard near you. Zoro was sitting on a stool drinking.

"What a good joke Y/n, you should be a comedian."

"I'm serious Zoro"

"But how do you expect us to cook something? We don't even know how to boil water"-Nami said

"Well, we'll learn how, we'll have to do it, I have to bring Sanji lunch…and the rest of us have to eat too, of course."

Zoro rolled his eyes.

"Fine, why don't we prepare something simple like pasta?"

"Good luck trying to boil water"

Nami hit Zoro in the back of the head.

"Well instead of complaining why don't you help come up with ideas?"

"Don't pay attention to him, pasta is fine"-Nami said smiling at you and placing her hand on your shoulder.

You looked all over the cupboard for packets of noodles but oh surprise! There was nothing left…

"Great, I better go before we starve to death"

Zoro snorted and turned away from there. You sighed in frustration as Nami stayed with you for whatever. Suddenly you remembered that your mother used to prepare a very good risotto for you when you were a child, you used to watch her cook your favorite dish and because you insisted so much she taught you how to cook it. You weren't as good as your mother at cooking but you did it carelessly. You grabbed a package of rice and the other ingredients and with Nami's help you managed to finish a quite edible risotto.

After serving the straw hats' dishes you went with a plate to your room where Sanji was. You found him lying down flipping through a book of yours. When he saw you come in with the food he smiled widely.

"I hope you didn't have any problems cooking."

"Let's say we manage not to burn down the kitchen…and the entire ship"

Sanji laughed warmly and then looked at the risotto you had prepared. He closed his eyes breathing in the delicious aroma and could feel his mouth watering.

"Is that.. what I think it is?"

"Yes sir, an old recipe from my mother. She used to prepare it for me every time I asked her"

Without thinking it twice, Sanji grabbed the plate and put a slice of rice in his mouth. You anxiously hoped that he would like it and that it wouldn't taste horrible. When he swallowed the bite, the blonde boy opened his eyes and looked at you in surprise. Oh no, he didn't like it you thought.

"Sanji I..-"

“Y/n this is really good!”

Wait, what?

"I didn't know you also had cooking skills."

"Do you really think it's delicious?"

"Of course I do! Why would I lie to you?"

You sighed in relief and smiled until your eyes narrowed. After eating you stayed with him chatting, you caressed his hair and cheek and he melted with your touch, sighing with happiness. Sometimes you would sing to him to entertain him or put him to sleep and then kiss him on the cheek or forehead. The days passed and he recovered more and more, he could even stand up and walk around the ship, but secretly sometimes he continued sleeping in your room just so he could be close to your presence.

"That story was beautiful, sweetie."

"I'm glad you liked it, good night Sanji"

You smiled as he closed his eyes and settled into the sheets. You were sitting near him, you liked to watch him sleep, not in a creepy way but he looked so peaceful like an angel. You got up and walked over to see him closer. Her eyelashes caressed the top of her cheeks, her soft skin shone with the moonlight, her thin lips seemed more rosy and velvety. Without being able to help it, you kissed her lips softly as if they were going to break, it seemed like you wanted to wake up the sleeping beauty. You moved a few centimeters away from his face and noticed his corners curl into a smile. Horrified, you covered your mouth and Sanji opened his eyes slightly, laughing softly.

"Sorry, I thought you were sleeping!!"

Sanji pulled you back to him laughing.

"There's no need to worry sweetheart, I know I'm irresistible"

You were about to protest but he gently pushed you towards your bed so that you lay next to him causing you to gasp slightly. You decided not to resist, a part of you wanted this anyway. The cook caressed your cheek with his thumb, his face close to yours.

"I never thanked you for saving my life. Thank you really Y/n"

"Oh don't exaggerate, it's the least I could do for you. I like to take care of you"

You could swear that despite the darkness, Sanji's face turned slightly reddish. You kissed his nose and laid on his chest. Now he was the one who felt butterflies in his stomach. Stroking your back and with his chin on your head you both fell asleep deeply.

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

oh man i just love writing one character bandaging/healing the other's wounds. chef's kiss

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arachnoia · 8 months

Text

fan favorite | miguel o'hara | part one here

in which your little side hobby is being a cam girl, except things get messy when you’re your boss’s fan favorite

pairing- miguel o’hara x fem! reader

tags- nsfw, masterbating, afab reader, idk how to make tags ! (perspective also changes from reader and miguel !)

—-

He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night but instead stared at his wall after he jerked himself off to the thought of fucking you.

Or at least the streamer version.

His sheets are ripped again thanks to his talons which were currently sinking into his mattress.

“Carajo…”

Now he knows who the streamer he likes is, and he doesn’t like it. Or he at least thinks he knows. The feeling of talking to you now makes him cringe.

Should he fire you? It would feel too awkward.

Or maybe it’s just him being crazy from not sleeping. Miguel has a tendency to not sleep. He either is too into protecting the multiverse to sleep or he’s horny and watches specifically your past livestreams to get by.

What can he say? He’s consistent with it.

“Miguel!”

Lyla emerged from his watch, dancing around his bed frame as he groaned, “What?”

She frowned and rolled her eyes, “Get up. I’m surprised you’re in bed at this hour for once!”

Miguel rolled his eyes and got ready, turning his lights even dimmer since he didn’t get sleep and his eyes were already sensitive as it is.

He stopped for a minute and looked at himself in the mirror.

His hair was messier than usual, his chestnut curls blocking his face. His eyes looked dead inside and in general, he looked fucked up.

He was.

“Miguellllll!”

“Ya voy!”

---

You bit your lip in frustration.

Yeah, your cut was fully healed and you slept okay. But that was only after taking melatonin and some sleep tea.

If that were not the case, you’d be feeling how you are now; stressed and anxious.

You didn’t know how to react when he called you Hermosa. That was someone a certain viewer from your streams called you and the phrase was associated with them. They would send a lot of money, which you were fond of.

Or maybe you misheard. Then again, it was quite nerve-wracking to be so close to your hot-ass boss.

“Y/N!!”

You quit brushing your hair and went over to your living room where Lyla was standing over your watch, “How’re ya doin’?”

You smiled forcefully, “Just peachy…”

“Gosh, what happened?! You look messed up, Miguel looks even worse! But anyways, just came to see how things are!”

You furrowed your eyebrows at what she said and sighed, “No, I just have a lot of things on my mind and I don’t know about O’Hara but he probably has his own shit.”

Lyla nodded and smiled, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

She looked over to your nightstand, where you just so happened to have a pink dildo that you used last night due to frustration. She furrowed her eyebrows, which you caught. You looked where she was looking and panicked.

“Hey, what’s tha-“

“I’ll see you at work, Lyla!! Bye!”

And before Lyla could even answer, you ran towards your watch to shut it off.

“Thank god…”

You looked over at your watch and saw the time which was 9.

You rolled your eyes and decided to skip today. Plus the secondhand embarrassment would be too much to bear.

___

Miguel frowned at his screens and looked over at the time, reading it to be 4.

“What the hell happened to Y/N? Have you seen her?”

He turned over to see Jessica Drew from below his platform.

“I, uh- don’t know. Why?”

She shrugged, “Dunno, just thought you’d know since you patched her up yesterday.”

All of a sudden she stopped and covered her mouth, “You don’t know, do you?!”

That question made his thoughts go all over the place. What didn’t he know? What happened? Did she know what he knew? Or rather what he thought he knew?

“Know what?”

Jessica rolled her eyes, “Y/N’s shy and young still. So I’m guessing yesterday was awkward for her,”

Oh…

“-Like y’know, since she got injured and stuff. Plus, I think she has a bit of a crush on you so don’t be as mean as you usually are if you see her tomorrow.”

Miguel frowned at Jessica and swung down, “I’m not mean.”

She snickered, “Sure, Miguel. Whatever you say- Hey, where are you going?”

Miguel turned around and pointed up to the platform, “You’re in charge. Lyla.”

“Yes sir!”

Jess gave him a surprised expression and frowned, glaring at him, “You still haven’t answered my question!”

“Don’t need to.”

---

Miguel felt a little sense of deja vu as he swung to your quarters. The sensation felt almost uncanny as he felt his stomach sink, “Shock…”

He hesitated as he climbed the fire emergency stairs from the outside of your building and slipped in from your open window.

And that’s where he heard it.

“F-Fuck Miguel!”

Then it went silent. You must have sensed something from her Spider senses. Miguel looked at the familiar flooring of all the live streams he saw, every detail of your living room engraved in his mind.

He turned his head to the sound of a door slightly opening, “Miguel..?”

You looked tired and breathless, only in your underwear and a tank top, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. He almost wanted to laugh. You were barely yelling out his name in pleasure and now you say it like you’re afraid of it.

“Yes?”

“Why are you here?”

“Why weren’t you at work? I know your healing abilities are fast.”

A smile crept on his lips as your quiet figure turned around. He felt his stomach doing cartwheels as he noticed you gripping something tightly. Something pink and curved.

“What’s that you’re holding?” Your reaction to his sentence alone made his cock almost twitch in excitement. Your lips slightly parted and looked away, “Nothing…”

He walked towards you, backing you into a wall, to see what you were holding a shot at it, holding a pink dildo before he knew it. Your face turned to one of horror and gasped, “Look-“

“I didn’t know you were into this. Y/L/N, I heard you.”

At this point, you two were only inches apart. He smirked as he could hear how fast your heartbeat went and how labored your breaths went.

“I- don’t have an explanation for that.”

“You don’t?”

He turned your face to look at him, towering over you and intimidating you. He began leaning towards your lips and noticed how you leaned towards closer to him before kissing him. If this wasn’t eerie, he didn’t know what was.

He started caressing your face, trying to be gentle before anything else until you took off your top and pinned him against the wall.

“Hermosa-”

You put your finger against his lips and motioned to his watch where he took off his suit. You kneeled down, looking up at him before smiling at his erect cock and starting kissing at his swollen tip, “I’ve always wanted to thank my number one supporter…”

“S-Shit. Just like that, baby…” He bit his lip and held back a moan. Your tongue grazed on his girth, driving him wild before your started pumping his cock. After teasing him a bit, you started taking him in by the tip slowly and bobbed your head to pleasure him.

He looked down to meet your eyes glazed with tears and gasped, “You’re so good, querida…Fuck-“

You smiled as you felt him twitch and let go only to place his cock between your tits. Miguel let out a groan as you started pumping out his cock again and releasing his load in your mouth.

Before you could even get up, Miguel lifted you up and pinned you against the wall again, where he ripped your panties off and felt his fingers through your wet folds, “Damn it…”

You let out a breathless moan and frowned, “My fucking god.”

He teased your folds with his cock, sliding it in slowly in you while you clawed at his muscular back, “M-Miguel, fuck!”

Miguel threw his head back from how tight you were, “You’re so fucking tight, hermosa. Just like that, mami.”

You cried out from the stretch as he inserted his whole length and held your leg up to his shoulder in order to thrust even harder, stuffing you full. You shut your eyes closed as the speed of his thrusts engulfed you in a state of euphoria. Like he’s been waiting to do this.

You looked up at him and chuckled darkly, out of breath, “Would you ever consider making a guest appearance one day?”

He let out an exasperated groan, “Maybe… it would be interesting.”

“You are a fan favorite anyways.”

—

masterlist

sol’s notes- i did not know how to end this and i have mixed feelings but lmk! also I typed this out, like yk the DRAFT AND I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT SO IM REALLY SORRY 🙏🏼

tags - @ashanomly @obi-mom-kenobi @tojisbabygworl @toaffes @celestia80s @thel0velykey190 @namorkawaiiwife @cheezit-luv3rr @neteyamoure @bammzyboomy @miyo-0oo @ihateuguys

#miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #sol (not de janeiro)

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mandiemegatron · 3 months

Note

One Piece has made "putting your prized, favourite, iconic hat on your s.o. as a form of claim, protection, comfort, promise, etc" now one of my favourite comfort/romance tropes.

Now apply this to the boys and their hats 🤭💕

I am SO sorry this took so long to finish but I got hit with a wave of sad and really needed my boys comfort 🥺💖 this was such a cute idea, I just couldn't not finish it !

ミ★ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘗��𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘗𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘏𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘠𝘰𝘶! 𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘓𝘢𝘸, 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘯 ♡ ★彡

Law ;

This man didn't let anyone touch his hat. Even when it came to wash day, he was overly protective the entire time you washed it, breathing over your shoulder with wide and concentrated eyes. It was like he was waiting for you to make one wrong move so he could sweep in and show you "how it's done," though every single time, you always cleaned it with love and warmth. The action caused Laws heart to feel like it was in a vicegrip, torn between ripping his beloved hat from your hands and watching you wash it with such soft motions. He always found himself holding his hat to his face when he got to his office, his spotted hat hiding his burning face from the outside world as he breathed in the clean smell, the fabric smelling like laundry detergent and the gentlest whiff of your perfume. He secretly loved it.

It was a rough battle. Most of the Heart Pirates walked away unscathed, but you, with your terrible luck, walked away with a gnarly gash on your arm. Law had sat you down in the infirmary, his hands almost rough as he looked you over, a deep set frown on his face as you tried to wave him off. "It's just a slice, Captain," you murmured, not wanting to show him any signs of pain. He grunted in response, making sure you didn't have any other cuts to your soft skin before setting to work on your injured skin. You went to bite out a retort but fell quiet as he uncharacteristically plopped his hat on your head, the action stunning you and lulling you into a soft silence. When he was done, he ripped his gloves off and tossed them aside, humming to himself as he stared at his handiwork before grinning down at you and taking his hat from your head. He smoothed out your flyaways with a comment of, "If I knew it was that easy to keep you quiet, I'd have done that ages ago." You didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning while thinking of how soft and warm his hat felt. You idly wondered if his arms would make you feel the same.

You were winning, for the first time ever, probably thanks to the alcohol running through all five of you. Card games were a big thing on the Polar Tang, and it didn't matter how bad you sucked at them, your best friends and your Captain always made sure to drag you along to play. "If I have to play, then so do you," Law would retort every single time you tried to refuse. You sat at the small round table, you and Ikkaku the only ones still wearing most of your clothes. Shachi and Penguin were down to their boxers, with Law in his spotted jeans and topless, though his prized hat still sat atop his head. "I'm coming for that hat," you bit out, slapping a card down with a laugh. "Draw four, mofo!" Law only rolled his eyes as he picked up four cards with a "Tsk," before groaning out, "Pass." You let out a triumphant laugh as everyone else placed a card or drew, bringing it back to you. You grinned and slapped down your last card, pointing at Law with a wide grin as you laughed, "Hat, please!" He had the most cards, which made him the loser and with a loud sigh, he took his treasured hat from his head and gently placed it on your head. Your eyes met and he grinned as your cheeks bloomed into red, his tattooed fingers reaching out to pull at them jokingly. "You look so stupid right now," he chuckled out, ignoring the pointed looks the other three were giving you two. "Yeah, but I'm your stupid, and you love it," you bit back before you could stop yourself, causing all three boys to burst out into laughter. You shared a look with Ikkaku, who simply gave you one in return that said, "I told you so!"

Shachi ;

This man was the living embodiment of 'Sharing is Caring', and share he did! There was nothing Shachi loved more than watching your face burn brightly whenever he plopped his orca hat onto your head. Every time, he'd grin and press a bashful kiss to your cheek before walking off, either tying his hair up or tossing his old green one on, just to feel less naked. Every chance he got, he'd throw his hat onto your head and it would pull you out of whatever trance you were in, whether you were reading or cutting veg for dinner prep, the stunned look on your face always caused his heart to swell. He knew it was real love when he put his hat on your head and you frowned, pulling it away from your head with a comment of, "This fuckin' stinks, Shachi, I'm gunna wash it for you." No one ever offered to wash his things ever, and your little acts of love truly made him fall harder for you every damn time. When you came back a few hours later, coming up behind him and placing the orca hat back onto his head, he turned in his seat and grinned up at you, pulling you into his lap and covering your face in a million kisses. "It smells like you!" He laughed out, your own laughter mixing with his at his actions. When he pulled away to smile lovingly down at you, you knew then and there that you'd love him forever, pulling him into a real kiss that caused Penguin and Uni to burst into loud, "OOOOOHHH!!!"s, knowing in the back of your head that you just inadvertently caused Shachi to owe them both money.

It was terrifying, watching your beloved crew get beaten down by these Pirates. You fought as hard as you could, to the point you had angry tears streaming down your face as you somehow fought back two men who were too strong for you. In a cheap shot, you were hit from behind and fell to the ground. You vaugely heard your name be screamed out, your eyes squeezing shut as you waited for the final blow only for nothing to come. You stared up as nearly sobbed as you saw Shachi and Law standing in front of you, both their swords impaling the two men you were fighting, watching with wide eyes as the pirates fell to the ground, dead. Law ran off, shouting for his other crew members as Shachi turned and fell to his knees, bringing you to his body. You sobbed openly, clinging to him tightly as he pulled you from the ground and lifted you in his arms. Everything around you two fell away into silence as he stared down into your watery eyes, a deepset frown on his face as he bit back tears of his own. Gathering you into a safe space, he ripped his hat from his head and placed it on yours, pulling it down to cover your eyes as he rasped out, "You'll be safe here. I'll be right back." Luckily, Bepo was nearby and protected you from any leftover men who staggered too close to you. When the fight was finally over, with the enemy dead and bleeding into the ground, you were pulled into a tight embrace, knowing by touch it was Shachi and you clung to him in response. Penguin, Ikkaku and Clione kept asking if you were okay, only to fall silent as Shachi glared up at them, holding you tighter to him as a sign for them to fuck off. When they finally did, you looked up at your bloodied and injured boyfriend and bit back another sob as he slowly got out, "I'll never let anyone hurt you, ever." You gave a heavy nod and hid your face in his neck, not bothering to hide your tears as he continued, "I'll always protect you. Always."

Waking up next to Shachi every day was a blessing and a curse, considering the part-fishman was a living furnace. On cold nights and days, it was a blessing waking up toasty and warm in his arms, his hat squished between your heads. (He really needed to stop falling asleep with it on.) On the days it was too hot on the sub, it was a mission to pry yourself from your grasp, almost struggling to breathe as he would only pull you closer and hold tighter. Even during chore time, he'd be clinging to you and would pout everytime you ripped your hand from his, both your palms already sweaty. "Please babe, you are killing me," you nearly sobbed out, your boiler suit tied around your hips as you paused doing dishes to fan yourself with a handmade paper fan. Shachi was dressed similarly, though his arms were tucked around your waist tufhtly, his face pressing soft kisses to your shoulder and neck. "Mm, but you're so tempting," he purred out, nipping at the side of your neck that caused you to shiver. You simply pulled away and glared at him, ignoring the goofy grin on his face as he made grabby hands towards you. "You better stop," you hissed out, shaking your fist at him only to stop as he plopped his hat onto your head and walked away pouting. "FINE, but only because you asked sooooo nicely..." You only rolled your eyes and went back to washing dishes, knowing you'd have to make it up to him in the showers later.

Penguin ;

This man was not a sharer. At all. You had to BEG the guy to try on his hat, to which he only let you wear it for a hot second before ripping it off your head and stuffing it back onto his own. You'd always pout, tugging on his boiler suit like a child begging their parents for something in the store, and he'd give a heavy sigh and reply, "No, now stop asking," though his tone was always playful and never hurtful. You'd often ask why he'd never share his hat with you, and he'd always respond, "It takes away from my dangerous and mysterious nature~" with a wiggle of his fingers in your face, causing you to burst out laughing. He loved hearing you laugh, and even though his answer never changed, it always pulled laughter from you. It wasn't hard for him to fall for you, your bright smile and loud laugh causing him to hide his burning face further under his namesake hat. How could he hide his love for you if you were wearing his hat?!

Penguins heart fell as he watched Bepo carry your unconscious body into the infirmary, rushing in after the mink only to be stopped by Shachi at the door. He tires to pull away, but Shachi holds tight, only shaking his head as the doors snap shut. "No, no no, let me go Shachi, they can't be alone, they need me-" Shachi only held tighter, murmuring lowly to his best friend, "They're in the best hands on the entire Grand Line. Just be patient." Penguin roughly pulled away, glaring at Shachi and trying to open the door again only to be stopped as Bepo walked out, a solemn look on his face. Penguins heart shattered, and he fell to his knees, pulling his hat low over his face as he silently sobbed into it. Bepo and Shachi shared a long look, frowns on both their faces as they bent down to comfort Penguin as best they could. When Law finally emerged from the infirmary, the three boys lifted their heads and sighed a breath of relief when he finally spoke. "They'll be fine. They got hit hard during the fight, but they'll pull through -" Penguin didn't even let him finish, pushing past him and immediately going to your side. His heart fell through the floor, seeing your bruised skin that wasn't hidden under bandages. Pulling a chair beside your bed, he ripped his hat from his head and gently tugged it onto yours before gathering your hand into both of his. He silently wept into the back of your hand, ending up falling asleep at some point. When he finally woke, your hand was slowly running through his messy hair, a tired but loving expression on your face as his eyes met yours. He shot up and held your face in his palms, uncertainty all over his face until you croaked out, "Just kiss me already, stupid." He didn't think twice, leaning down and capturing your lips in his own as gently as he could. He pulled back when you winced, pain in your eyes as he stared down at you. "You look like shit," you joked out, causing him to give a broken laugh of his own. "You look worse," he barely got out, holding your hand in his again. You simply grinned in response, commenting lightly, "At least I got your hat." He gave his own grin in response and leaned over to kiss you again, slowly removing his hat from your head to stuff onto his own. "Yeah, yeah. You're lucky I love you."

Thank you SO much for this ask, I hope this was okay! I wanted to add more but after writing that almost angst with Peng, my heart just would NOT let me write anymore 😭😂 thank you for always being a solid mutual, I love seeing you in my inbox and my notes !! I hope you all enjoyed this little blurb 🤭💖

If yall want me to add to any of these, please let me know ! 💖💖💖💖

#mandies mumbles ; headcanons / blurbs / ect...#answered ask #freelyhappycycle #ok to rb #one piece #heart pirates #trafalgar law #shachi #penguin #this was SO much fun 🤭🤭💖💖💖#if you see any mistakes - no the fuck you dont 💖💋#no beta we die like men #one piece fic #op shachi #op law #op penguin

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vivgst · 1 month

Text

TOXIC!VALERIA

Go to part one here

Crying internally while writing this because it was the happy ending that I couldn't have.

You watched TV or at least that's what you tried to do, you had already returned to your apartment and a week had passed since the last time you saw Valeria, you got depressed, cried a little and decided to watch romantic comedies that would rub you in the face that she would never give you something like that. You were feeling like shit, but habit had wrapped your feelings in a warm blanket and numbed them, so you no longer suffered with the same intensity.

However, life or fate, maybe fucking hell itself, insisted that you had to remember your pain and that you not only stare at it but embrace it, so the doorbell rang and you didn't need to open the door to know it was her.

Valeria collapsed in your arms and you almost fell to the ground, she was considerably taller than you, her muscles were not light either but you managed to help her reach the couch, she let out a barely audible hiss and you grabbed her face in your hands, examining her bruised face.

“What the hell happened?” You asked, your gaze dropping to her collarbone which had a cut, not too deep but noticeable enough and it was swollen around it, purple.

“Un hijo de su puta madre… he lied to us, it was a trap.” She murmured in annoyance and leaned her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes. Her clothes were full of dirt and she was not severely injured, but her body probably hurt all over.

“I imagine he couldn't get away with it.” You said and she shook her head, of course not, it had been too much of an achievement for him to have fooled her.

“Estoy hasta la madre… I'm so fucking tired.” Valeria opened her eyes to look at you, only then did you realize how marked her dark circles were, how her eyes seemed to struggle to stay open and you raised your hand to her cheek to caress it, seeking to give her some kind of comfort although you knew she wasn't too much of a lover of physical contact, or at least that's what she said.

“I’ll help you take a shower.” You spoke in that sweet voice that made her melt so she couldn't say no and followed you to the bathroom at a slow pace, taking off her clothes to get into the shower and she felt her muscles relax when the water began to fall all over her body.

“You can't help me much from out there.” She spoke and you looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds before sliding the silk robe off your body and stepping into the shower, the water was ice cold, just the way Valeria loved it and it made you shivered.

Her arms rested on your shoulders as her gaze met yours, but your eyes looked at her stomach, she had a few scars and even though she knew how damn sexy she was, she was still a human being with insecurities, like everyone.

"They are disgusting".

“Nothing about you is.” You responded softly as your hand rubbed one of her biggest scars, a stab wound that almost killed her, you remembered it very well, how she arrived at your apartment bloody and almost with no oxygen in her lungs but she refused to leave, she had her men come to help her.

You were the only home she knew and every time she felt broken she came to you, her only spiritual healing, the only one that caressed her soul without even trying and she would return from death just to give you one last kiss, it's a shame you weren't aware of that thoughts.

You stayed immersed in your own mind as you helped her shower, washing her hair that was full of dirt and handing her a towel at the end so she could dry off, which she did carefully and quickly.

You gave her one of the many pajamas she had left there in your place, but she only put on the pants, her torso felt on fire.

You both lay down, the only thing you saw was her back and you drew shapes on it with your index finger, being careful not to touch her bruises because you would hurt her.

“Are you asleep?” You asked in a whisper and she shook her head slowly, she always had trouble sleeping, stress and all her worries being one of the main causes. “You've never told me if you have a favorite color.” The room fell silent once you asked your question and you thought she wouldn't answer before you heard her barely audible voice.

“I've spent so much time living on the edge that there are many things I don't know about myself, my favorite color is one of them.” She paused, she hated casual conversations with you, she felt exposed and vulnerable, it was a bittersweet feeling. “But I hate light blue and orange.” She smiled as she heard you giggle, of course she would hate orange.

“You might like green.” You suggested and she nodded weakly, her head barely moving. “Why don't you ask me what my favorite color is?”

“Your favorite color is pink, maybe black.” You frowned and hugged her tighter, your arm hanging casually over her waist and she gave your hand a light squeeze, bringing it to her lips for a kiss that made your heart race.

“I don’t remember telling you that.”

“Yes but you are too noisy.” She said and you felt her smile against your hand, it was true, you never shut up and she partly envied that about you, the ability to be absurdly happy all the time. “Also, whenever I buy you clothes you choose those colors.”

“You like pink too.” You said and it was true, she had forgotten, which was pretty ridiculous considering she had her nails painted with said color.

There was a moment of silence, you heard her let out a sigh and you didn't really know what to feel, maybe she would tell you to go fuck yourself again because you knew how much she hated opening up to you.

But she rolled over to look into your eyes, she rested her hand on your cheek as her gaze searched for something in your eyes that you didn't know if she would find.

“You are the constant reminder that my life is more than blood and death.” Valeria said and you felt the lump in your throat, something usual when you were with her. And you felt helpless hearing those words that would mean nothing tomorrow once she got up to go and leave you.

She always did that, she came to you broken so that you could put her pieces back in their place, so that you could put her together like a puzzle and fill her with all the love she needed.

Then she would leave you, bleeding because you were tearing off pieces of you own skin to fix hers, and she would leave, leaving you all alone without caring if you were going to survive or not.

“Please don't do this to me.” You spoke and the pleading tone in your voice made her clench her jaw, she asked herself how she had been able to hurt you so many times if now seeing you like this was destroying her.

The hand she had on your cheek moved slightly across your face, as if she wanted to memorize it forever, immortalize it on her skin so she couldn't forget it even if she lost her memory.

“I haven't said it, but you know I do, right? I do". You looked down when you heard that but she put her finger under your chin, raising your face so her eyes met yours. “I love you, probably before you did.”

Your now teary eyes widened in shock and you couldn't process anything other than what was happening in front of you, the words you had wanted to hear for so long and it didn't feel real.

“And I won't be able to be there for you all the time, I have a shitty life, you know that-”

"I don't care, I want to be with you." You responded and gasped because the lump in your throat was consuming you, you couldn't believe it. She pulled you into her arms and you clung to her warmth, snuggling into the softness of her body careful not to hurt her.

Not many words were needed, both of you were comfortable in the silence that surrounded you and you felt your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you would fall asleep, like always when you were with her.

And this time you didn't wake up in an empty bed with teary eyes, you didn't wake up feeling desolate and used, you woke up in the arms you always hoped to be in, in the only arms you would hold on to from now on.

You woke up hugged by someone who loved you so much more than you could ever imagine.

#valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria garza x reader #valeria mw2 #valeria x reader #valeria x you #valeria x f! reader #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #valeria garza smut #lesbian #wlw

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

Note

okay am actually obsessed with feral reader & i saw you’re taking prompts/requests!! so how would feral reader react to joel being injured 👀 either while on patrol in wyoming or on their journey there w ellie

Aww thank you!! I'm so happy people have taken to her! And yesssss I'd had something along this line roughly in my head so I'm definitely down with this prompt!

Beast Joel Miller x fem!reader The Last of Us (Show/Game) 2.3k Words Warning: Gore, violence! Really putting the feral in Feral Reader lol

Later, she’d tear herself apart because they knew better. They knew to stay in pairs, knew to still be cautious, knew to not be so casual about the trips to the outskirt cities during patrols. It didn’t matter how long they’d been at Jackson, they knew what life was like outside the walls and it wasn’t something they could be nonchalant about. Complacency led to death and Jackson gave you a taste of that life. Life before a monstrous fungus destroyed everything. They were paying for that delusion now.

She grit her teeth at the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of Joel’s growl of pain and anger coming from around the corner where she was hiding. Something had felt off and she’d come back only to find he had been ambushed, wrist shackled to a pipe low to the ground and cut on his forehead bleeding down into his eye. The bruise blossoming on his cheek told her he’d already taken a few punches.

From her hiding spot, she could see there were two guys in the room with him. One crouched down holding a knife close to Joel, blood smeared across his face from a busted lip and black eye already forming. The other was standing closest to her, watching what was unfolding with a pistol hanging loosely in his hand. She almost snarled at the site of the blood spreading from Joel’s side, turning her favorite denim shirt dark red from some injury she couldn’t fully see. He was as angry as she was, brow heavy and glaring up at the two with a sneer. It was a stare that had promised violence, had signed death warrants and delivered it. They’d hurt him. They’d hurt Joel. It wasn’t an impossible thing. He was human. She’d seen them get into fights before, but this time they’d cornered him and there was no Ellie barrier. No leash that told her to be quick and efficient and not freak the kid out. No second focus for her. No one besides Joel to protect. All she could feel was rage because they’d hurt one of her people and were enjoying it, grins on their faces and chuckles leaving their throats. Her hackles raised, teeth grit together to the point her jaw hurt, as her hand gripped the bow she’d brought. They had planned to hunt. Got tired of dinner experiments and attempts to cook so they were going back to what they knew. Hunting wasn’t entirely off the table, just a different kind of prey was the target. She’d have to move fast. Move before the one closest to Joel could hurt him, move before they could react and shoot either of them. She didn’t have the same brutal strength her partner did but she was quick and quiet and that was all she needed. Taking a deep breath, she swiveled around the corner and drew the bowstring back taut, feeling it almost kiss her cheek before releasing with a quiet swish. It was fast and at close range the arrow hit home hard and brutally into the back of the guy closest to her’s skull.

A choked gasp left his throat from the impact then he was sliding to his knees, crumpling and drawing the other’s attention. Even in the chaos she could see Joel’s eyes flick over, take her in as she ran in a dead sprint towards the one crouched by him. He was still kneeling, knife in hand, but he was slow to react. In the back of her mind, she wondered how these men could have gotten the jump on him. Maybe all the jokes about him getting older were starting to ring true, her complaints about settlement life making them complacent coming back to haunt them. Domesticated. They’d been domesticated and for some reason that pissed her off more. The stranger hadn’t managed to get off the ground fast enough and instead was the perfect height for her to get the bow around his neck and yank him hard into her knee. He choked and wheezed, arms flailing as she growled and pulled. She pulled with all her strength, using her arm strength to keep the bow as tight against his windpipe as she could while her knee pushed him harder and harder into it. Ellie had asked once if they had ever snapped anyone’s necks. Like in the movies where they simply yank the goon’s head slightly in the other direction and it cracks, easy peasy. She’d told her it wasn’t that easy. Spines and necks are actually a lot tougher, can take a lot of strain and usually need a lot of pressure to break. Right now she wished it was that simple. Wanted to see how much pressure she could drive into his spine before that crack would reach her ears. The guy finally stopped flailing in panic and decided to use the knife still in his hand, stabbing wildly over his shoulder in an attempt to reach her and get her off him.

Joel was bucking and yanking at the cuffs, yelling as he attempted to get free or reach them to help. His hand was turning purple from the pressure and the blood in his side was spreading even more. She wanted to tell him to quit it, to think and focus because he was only hurting himself.

Both her hands were starting to hurt from the strain of pulling the bow and he wasn’t going down. With a hiss, the knife managed to skim her shoulder, slicing through her shirt sleeve. It was a gamble but she couldn’t keep it up, was going to exhaust herself before the guy would be out. When the stranger went to stab her again, she dropped the bow abruptly and grabbed his arm, wrenching it far back and ripping the knife from his grip as he screamed in pain. The knife found its home soon after, stabbed into the side of his head, cutting off the sound of his strained gasps. Jerking it back out, she took deep breaths while holding the knife, panting and watching the body collapse at her feet. There was silence for a bit, the slight clinking of the cuffs rattling against the pipes all she could hear for a second and adrenaline shooting through her veins. She enjoyed that silent moment after the fight was over where all she could hear was the sound of her heartbeat and lungs expanding and collapsing. It was the sound of still being alive. Joel’s eyes found hers and she relaxed a bit, seeing the way they burned. Either from want, gratefulness, wonder, she wasn’t sure. But never fear or disgust and that’s all she cared about. He was safe, they were alive, the people were dead. And maybe that small moment with him was what distracted her right before a third attacker came barreling in, tackling her to the ground. The man was big and angry and screaming in her face. The tackle had put her at a disadvantage, shoving her onto her back with her arms pinned between their bodies along with the knife. She couldn’t get her harms free or make any room to get leverage against him. The third attacker was heavy and her breath had been knocked out of her. She struggled to gulp in the air, to get breath into her lungs, before the man’s hands were around her neck. Joel was shouting her name. The man was spitting and yelling so close to her she could feel the spit land on her skin while his hands squeezed. They were big, were wrapped all around her neck easily. All she could do was buck like a trapped animal, teeth and claws bared as she struggled wildly under his weight. If she got taken out, Joel would be next. If she died, Joel would die. He couldn’t get free, couldn’t get back to Jackson and Tommy, couldn’t get back to Ellie. Her throat was raw and lungs burned, her mind desperately trying to find a solution but all she could hear ringing in her ears was Joel’s yells. The man was almost nose to nose with her, dirty face twisted in rage.

As hard as she could muster, she smashed her head into her attackers, feeling the clatter of bones and teeth shake her skull. He shouted and jerked back, hands loosening just a bit. Not enough she could get her arms free, but enough that she rushed forward and latched onto his neck with her teeth. She clamped down as hard as she could. His skin was dirty and salty and bile rose but she bit down harder and harder. Flesh tore beneath her teeth and blood rushed into her mouth, metallic and sharp, as he screamed and tried to get away from her. It only helped her to do more damage, ripping the skin. Jackson was home, but it wouldn’t tone her down. If anything, it gave her more to protect, more things she would tear herself apart to keep safe. She’d rip the throat out of anyone who dared to hurt what was hers. The man rolled off of her, desperately trying to cover the large hole in his neck as blood flooded out. She spat out the chunk of flesh with a growl and turned over with a hard swing of her hand, the knife skimming off bone before sinking into his chest with a hard thud. There was a wet gurgling sound coming from him and she panted, spitting some of the blood in her mouth onto his body. There was no appreciating the silence this time, no letting the rage simmer down. It stuck to her, hot and bright, like the blood coating her mouth and jaw. “Which one had the handcuffs?” she bit out and almost startled herself at how rough and raspy her voice came out. It felt raw, painful, but she swallowed past it and climbed unsteadily to her feet. Joel’s face was a mask as he took her in, took in the three bodies around him and the blood covering her. He didn’t say anything, only jerked his head at the guy with the shiner she had attempted to strangle. Her body didn’t feel grounded, a second delay in her processing making her feel out of it, but she focused on the taste of copper on her tongue and roughly went through the guys pockets searching for the key. Her fingers wrapped around a small piece of metal and she sighed in relief, thankful she wasn’t going to have to find a way to break the pipe and get the cuffs cut off in Jackson. Joel still didn’t say anything as she walked over and kneeled heavily in front of him, hands going to the cuffs and working to get them undone. His hand and wrist were torn up from all the yanking he had done and she was thankful it wasn’t his dominant one or he’d be pissed. Not broken, but the skin was bruised and purple and would need one of the doctors to look at it along with the wound in his side. The metal clicked and she pulled his hand free, not letting go, instead checking it over completely before she cupped his cheek and took in the gash on his forehead. “Hey,” he bit out the word, eyes dark and lips pressed together into a hard frown. She ignored him, focusing on checking him over and taking a mental log of all his injuries. She should have killed them slower. “We’ll have to scrap this run and get you looked at. I don’t trust those cuffs and the last thing we need is you getting infected,” muttering, she yanked up the bottom of his shirt without even asking and took in the long gash along his ribs, “You’ll need stitches. I can also see if Maria can get the blood out of the shirt and maybe patch the hole. This one’s a good one, I don’t want you to have to throw it away.” Joel growled her name again, this time louder, and grabbed her chin roughly in his hand to force her focus onto his face.

She clenched her jaw under his fingers, swallowing blood and pain. Waited for the beratement, the breakdown of what went wrong and the self-punishment he liked to give himself so often. Waited for the potential disgust at the violence. But she wouldn’t apologize. He’d seen her do worse for less and she wouldn’t apologize for protecting him.

Instead, he watched her and took in the hard line of her brow, the blood drying across her mouth and chin and smeared all over, the bright fire of rage still burning in her eyes. And then he yanked her forward, kissing her hard and brutally, practically pulling her into his lap.

He didn’t cringe away at the taste of someone else’s blood on her tongue, of the way those teeth had ripped into someone a few moments before. He drank her in desperately, uninjured hand diving into her hair and tightening on the strands. The pain was still there. Her throat was raw and his hand stung as it clung to her side, knife wound bleeding even as he brought her onto his thighs. They both didn’t care, swallowing the other’s gasps of pain and pleasure.

Her whole body relaxed in his grip as if to say he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay and she let herself hold him tight and kiss him.

He would never say thank you. It was a process to get the words dragged out of him, but with him his actions always spoke louder. His fingers skimming her throat whispered that he would have killed them himself if he could, his tongue against hers spoke of his acceptance, his tight grip on her was his gratefulness.

Joel didn’t pull away from her, didn’t try and change her, and she’d rip the whole world apart for him for that fact alone. He was her family and she protected what was hers.

#tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x feral reader #joel miller female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #raicodoll writes #oc: red #fic: beast #Series: feral #anon asks #asks #request fic

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 6 months

Note

That was amazing! This will be my last request around Eri!Reader until you reopen your requests so I’m not spamming you! (Thank you so much for writing these, I get so excited whenever you post since your so amazing and talented!! 💞✨)

Part 14 After returning to Water 7 to heal from their battle (And happy to learn Franky is going to make them a Ship and join them) Garp the Fist comes in, and reveals to be Luffy’s Grandfather, but before he could continue beating the snot out of Luffy, Reader stops him (Garp is happy to finally meet his one and only Granddaughter Reader!)

However Garp ends up pissed when Luffy told him Spadam hit her, and wants to get his hands on him! (No one puts their hands on his Granddaughter!! NO ONE!!)

Though Reader calms Luffy and Garp down from wanting to go back/to Enies Lobby to beat Spadam up (Garp’s cackling after learing that his sweet Granddaughter hit Spadam in his ‘Royal Jewels’, as he’s very proud of her for doing that) and leaves the Straw Hats alone after telling Luffy about his dad Dragon (Not before promising to spend time with Reader and gives her one of his Rice Crackers)

For the next 3 days the Straw Hats and all of Water 7 had a huge party, with Reader playing around with Chimney and Gonbei in her bathing suit Franky gave her (Including little Arm Floats that look like Starfish/Kitties)

And with Nami’s help, Reader calls Ace to talk with him, and Ace was holding in his rage after hearing what his little sister went through (As she told him it was scary) and the fact she got slapped, but he started laughing when Luffy told him what Reader did to Spadam’s ‘Jewels’ (Whitebeard and his sons were doing the same thing as Ace, angry and furious, but proceeded to laugh hysterically after learning what Reader did to someone’s ‘Jewels’)

I love Whitebeard so much (He’s so protective and caring about those apart of his family) he’s just a giant softie

They all see not only Zoro, Luffy, Robin and Reader’s Bounties upgraded, but everyone get a Bounty themselves (And everyone screamed when Reader’s bounty Skyrocketed again at 320-350 Million)

Reader also comforts her Brother Sanji about his Wanted Poster by giving him one of her own drawings of him (It’s a kid drawing, but compared to Luffy, it’s 100x better than his art skills and she drew it out of love)

I’ll wait until next time to ask you for a Garp and Eri!Reader Special (They’re going to spend a whole day together!) it’s just pure. unadulterated. Fluff.

-It had been two days since you and your family arrived back from Enies Lobby, as many of you were severely injured, you were luckily, being the least injured, but after overworking your quirk, you were just as tired as the rest of them.

-You were so happy that Franky was a part of the crew and that Usopp was back, as you felt protective of your family, you never wanted any of them to leave- you never wanted to be apart from them.

-Franky was super nice to you as the others were slowly waking up, both him and Iceburg treating you to breakfast as you were the first to wake up.

-You were in awe, seeing Luffy still sleeping but also eating, unable to look away until Sanji and Nami yelled at him to wake up while Robin and Usopp were laughing lightly at the sight.

-A knock then came from the door before it burst open and Franky dropped his shoulder, wrapping his arms around you, shielding you from the debris.

-A large man then entered, a marine which made you clutch at Franky’s Hawaiian shirt, scared as everyone was quickly able to recognize this man, Monkey D. Garp!

-Luffy’s jaw was dropped, “Grandpa?!” everyone quickly turned in shock, hearing this, yelling in shock while your little hands came to your face in shock.

-Garp then made you gasp as he punched Luffy, sending him flying into a wall. Zoro and Sanji were stunned, ready for a fight, seeing that he was able to hurt Luffy.

-You pushed on Franky’s chest and you managed to slip out of his arms and you ran over as Garp stalked towards Luffy, cracking his knuckles, ready to discipline him before you ran in front of your brother.

-Your arms were spread and you had big fat tears in your eyes, “Please don’t hurt my big brother!” everything froze, seeing you protecting Luffy and Garp stammered, trying to tell you that he wasn’t going to hurt Luffy, just discipline him.

-The tears fell from your eyes and Garp instantly fell to his knees, hugging you close, “Grandpa’s so sorry little Y/N! I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

-You sniffled loudly as Luffy struggled to his feet, a bit dizzy, before you spoke, “You’re my grandpa?” Garp glared at Luffy, his eyes turning red, “You didn’t tell her about your one and only grandpa?!”

-You tugged on Garp’s shirt gently, not seeing him as someone so scary now, “I have two grandpas- you’re my second one!”

-Garp turned to stone in shock before crumbling into a sobbing pile while Robin picked you up, holding you up on her hip, he cried, lamenting that he wasn’t your first grandpa.

-He then shot up, looking completely fine, looking fired up, “So who was your first grandpa?!” he wanted to find out to take that title from whoever got to you first, no matter who it was.

-You beamed brightly, your arms lifting to the sky happily, “I’ve never seen him but I’ve talked to him with Big Brother Ace- he said his name is Whitebeard!”

-The flames around Garp seemed to increase, growing hotter as his eyes turned red, furious that his adorable granddaughter had been adopted by Whitebeard of all people and that you saw him as your first grandpa, while Garp was in second place!

-He could only imagine you (in cartoon form), in Whitebeard’s arms, laughing with him as he stood on the 1st place spot of a podium while Garp was on his knees in second place.

-Garp wasn’t going to deal with your crew at the moment, instead joining you all for a meal, you sitting on his knee as you held a cup of juice.

-Garp noticed the bandage on your head, “What caused this?” you lifted your hand to your head and Nami was the one to answer, “It was that marine, Spandam- he hit Y/N for trying to protect Robin.”

-Garp froze, turning white, hearing that a grown adult- a grown man, put his hands on a child, injuring you as he was quick to get fired up, “Where is the bas-basket case!” he caught himself, not wanting to swear in front of you.

-You didn’t know why he was calling Spandam a basket, before his face appeared in your head, and his mask did look a bit like a basket.

-Your family was also still furious at Spandam, glaring and voicing their own anger while you were eating a cookie Garp gave to you.

-Nami pointed at him, scolding him, “Oi! Don’t be giving her cookies for breakfast!” you flinched as Garp just beamed brightly, “It’s fine- it’s fine!” Sanji grabbed you, “It is not fine! She needs healthy food in the morning.” Garp pouted, wanting to spoil you.

-He then spoke again, “So where is Spandam?” a few grins appeared as Franky ruffled your hair gently, “Y/N here took care of him, with a well-placed headbutt to the family jewels!”

-Garp laughed loudly, finding it hysterical, before he ruffled your head, praising you before he stood, telling Luffy about Dragon, his dad and you had question marks floating around your head, as you didn’t know any dragons.

-Luffy told you that he would tell you all about his dad and Garp gave you a bag of cookies, “I have to leave now my little Y/N~ I’ll come back to spend some time with you.”

-You smiled up at him, holding your hand up to him, extending your pinkie finger, “Pinkie promise?” Usopp was the one to teach you about pinkie promises, and Garp as well as several others around, Usopp, Luffy, Franky, Iceberg, and Sanji, all collapsed to the ground, clutching at their chests at your cuteness.

-After Garp left and all the damage caused by Aqua Laguna was fixed, everyone celebrated! There was a huge party with drinking, eating lots of barbeque, and you got to run around with Chimney in the water, being a normal kid for one, wearing your starfish shaped water wings that Franky gave you over your wet suit.

-Franky was confused why you were wearing a wet suit as he was your lifeguard, letting you sit on his leg, asking you and you pulled your arms in close, looking down at your hands, “There’s…” you couldn’t speak, instead pulling your sleeve up, showing him the scars, at least some of them, on your arms.

-His eyes were wide, seeing his as he held your hand gently, before a hand on his head pulled him out of his shock, and you both saw Luffy there who kneeled down, seeing you showing Franky your scars, “Someone hurt Y/N- badly. We don’t know much, but all we know is that he will never touch her again.”

-You gave Luffy a small nod before you all decided to head to the ship for a private party, having a bath with Robin and Nami while the boys started up a barbeque.

-You ran out to Luffy, grabbing his hand, pulling him away from the fire, looking excited as Nami grinned, walking out with Ace’s DenDen Mushi, “Nami and I are gonna call Ace and grandpa!”

-You sat on Luffy’s lap while he continued to eat, not bothering you heard it ringing before you heard Ace, “Is this my most favorite little sister~?” you giggled warmly, “Hi Ace!”

-Aboard the Moby Dick, their own drinking party, because it was Wednesday, everything went quiet as most everyone huddled around Ace, hearing the voice of their adorable little sister and granddaughter.

-You and Ace talked about your most recent adventures, including where Robin was kidnapped and then you were taken too. Ace was furious, flames surrounding him as they all heard that Spandam hurt you- and Whitebeard was ready to call for an attack before Nami had to tell Ace that you took care of Spandam yourself, taking out his family jewels.

-It was silent on the other side, all their anger instantly leaving before you flinched back into Luffy’s arms, hearing the roar of laughter from the other side.

-Once Ace was able to breathe again, he spoke, “What else happened?” you beamed brightly, “I met another grandpa- his name is Garp!”

-Ace shivered deeply, recalling his own memories of Garp before he managed to force a smile, “Oh? And how was he?” you thought for a moment, “Kinda loud- and he cried when I told him that Whitebeard is my first grandpa, while he was my second.”

-Whitebeard beamed warmly, hearing that he was your first, but he couldn’t help but imagine Garp lamenting over the fact that he was the second.

-The following day, you woke up to loud shouting and you wandered out of your room, a little delirous as you wandered over, rubbing your eyes as you grabbed Zoro’s pants, “Why is everyone yelling?”

-He kneeled down, putting his hand on your head and your eyes went wide as everyone showed you their new bounties, your eyes immediately sparkling brightly.

-Robin then smiled, “Here Y/N- this one is yours.” You looked exited, taking it while Luffy was pouting lightly, seeing your 400,000,000 beri bounty while you were gawking, “So many zeros!”

-You quickly ran to put it up on your wall, showing the other bounties as well and you beamed, feeling proud of yourself.

-You then noticed Sanji looked sad when you came back out and you quickly found out why, because the marines didn’t have a good photo, so they used a crudely drawn one by Luffy instead and Sanji was upset because it didn’t look a thing like him!

-You quickly ran back to your room, coming out with your drawing materials Usopp had given you and you got to work, making a new bounty poster to make your big brother happy!

-It took you over an hour to draw, everyone who had seen you saw the focus on your face before you ran to Sanji, “I made it better!”

-You drew your own bounty poster, including ‘bounty’ being spelled wrong, and a children’s drawing in the middle, showing Sanji making food with hearts surrounding him.

-Sanji fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he held it up to the sky, overwhelmed with happiness before he cried into his elbow, thanking you warmly, making you beam before your smile grew as he put it on the fridge, “So I can see it every day!”

-You celebrated with your crew, having a big feast to celebrate the new bounties, unaware of the, literal, darkness on the horizon.

#one piece x reader #eri reader #luffy #zoro #nami #sanji #usopp #chopper #nico robin #franky

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xo-rihanna · 1 year

Text

Future Leader Part 2 - Neteyam Sully

Warnings - swearing, smut, penetration, p in v, squirting, orgasms, oral, spanking, biting, spitting, edging. Minors DNI

A/N - Picks up almost exactly where Part 1 left off. IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGGGG I’ve been busy with college but I caught up enough to finish this😫 and I had to like rewrite half of this twice because I forgot to save it and it got deleted and then tumblr decided to freeze just as I was about to post it and deleted the last bit😐 anyways I hope this is okay and you enjoy it. This is not proof read! Thank you loves🫶🏻

“You’re welcome, your highness.”

The words practically oozed arrogance. Eywa you hated him. You drew a sharp breath, feeling the growth of an angry growl building in your throat. Neteyam saw just how worked up you were getting and grinned, it was exactly what he wanted. You could care less for your leg which was now spilling blood. The war party was waiting for your order and you clenched your jaw, regained some of your dignity and lead them on the flight home.

By the time you had gotten back to the village, which now resides in the caves of the Hallelujah mountains, all sensation in your leg was gone. You broke tsaheylu with your Ikran and slid off her back, grimacing as your leg hit the floor and you wobbled.

You hissed, fearing for someone to see your weakness. Neteyam watched as you struggled to steady yourself to walk, he felt an odd feeling in his chest. Like he couldn’t watch you struggling and do nothing. It urged him to offer you help and after battling with himself he gave in, knowing it was the right thing to do. Neteyam wrapped a strong arm around your waist, attempting to sling your arm around his shoulder but you resisted.

“Are you trying to ruin me in front of the whole clan? Get off. I’m fine.” You shoved Neteyam off and found yourself in a vulnerable position. Your leg was practically dragging along the floor as you attempted to walk. Neteyam held his hands up and smirked, “By all means, princess, drag yourself down to the Tsahik.” He chuckled as you hissed and threw your head back, knowing you couldn’t make it that far.

“I fucking hate you.” You mumbled, Neteyam smiled and took this as you accepting you needed his help. He wrapped his arm around you once more and tried to help you walk but your leg was just becoming deadweight.

“I hate to say this but I’m gonna have to carry you, Y/n. You’re doing more damage to it by dragging it.” He gave you no time to resist and had you scooped up in his arms before you could even attempt to fight him.

Your face flushed in embarrassment and you prayed to Eywa under your breath that this was a dream and you’d wake up and have some of your dignity left. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, princess.” Neteyam chuckled and you scowled up at him.

The calm beating of his heart against your ear made your own heart erratic and you were suddenly aware of every inch of skin he was touching. It felt on fire. You didn’t know why your body was reacting to his touch like this. You honestly wanted to just curl up and die from embarrassment.

Neteyam avoided looking at you because he felt the same. Your delicate frame in his arms was driving him crazy. Suddenly your big girl facade dripped away and he saw the pure beauty beneath it. Your sharp tongue didn’t seem so threatening anymore. Neteyam had a look among his face that looked like worry, if you had to give it a name, as the blood from your graze wound had leaked down your leg and was now dropping off your foot splattering the ground and Neteyam’s arm.

“Does it not hurt?” He asked, trying to pick up the pace to get to the Tsahik’s, your mother, hut. You shook your head, “I can’t feel my leg at all.”

Neteyam sighed in quiet relief as he saw your mothers hut just a few metres away. Your mother was no longer tending to other injured warriors and lifted her eyebrows as she saw her own daughter be carried in and set in front of her.

“It was a bullet graze. It’s been bleeding like crazy and she says she cannot feel her leg anymore. I had to carry her here.” Neteyam wiped your blood off his arm and legs and glanced down at you.

Mother nodded to Neteyam, thanked him and let him leave. You felt like a hole was being burned into your brain with the way your mother was looking at you. So full of shame. “Mother it is not as bad as it looks-“ You started, wiping at the graze and hissing slightly out of instinct.

Your mother shook her head sitting next to you and mixing up ointments in her hands, “You have been trained better then to allow these stupid mistakes,Y/n. You are future Ole’eykte. Act like it.” She harshly applied the ointments onto your wound and rubbed it in. Your head dipped in shame, unable to even let out painful whimpers.

Unknown to you, Neteyam lingered outside of your tent. He didn’t know why and he kind of hated himself for it. He listened to your Mothers words and felt a guilty knot tie in his stomach. He didn’t know you were under so much pressure. Biting his lip, he walked away, having heard enough.

Your wound was not bad, it was just deep. You’re mother fixed you up and you were instructed to rest for at least the rest of the night even though you felt fine. Your feeling had come back and you could put weight on it again. Besides the bandage, it felt like it hadn’t happened.

The next morning, you wasted no time to get out of your tent. Getting up the second sunlight hit your face. You avoided your parents at all costs, not wanting to get another scolding. You needed to have a talk with Neteyam. Subconsciously, your body and mind just craved being in his presence. Picking at anything, any excuse to just look at him.

As you neared the Sully’s family tent, you heard the commotion of the family getting ready. Childish bickering and fumbling of feet. The flap of their tent was slightly open and Neytiri saw you first, ignoring her oldest boys as they rumbled the tent with their play fighting. Neytiri smiled at you and nodded, telling you it was okay to enter their home.

You took the invitation and stood for a second in the makeshift doorway, watching Neteyam and his little brother rumble around like children. Neteyam laughed as his brother managed to shove him down to the floor of the tent and then caught sight of you and froze. You smirked at him, putting a hand on your hip. “Real mature, mighty warrior.” You smiled as Neteyam huffed and got up, brushing himself off as if it would take back what you saw.

“What are you doing here, peg leg?” He asked, his eyes jolting down to the bandage around your leg. You rolled your eyes and Neytiri gave her son a look. Jake just shook his head, “How are you, sweetheart? Neteyam told me you took a nasty graze yesterday.” He gave you a sweet smile.

“I’m okay, sir. Nothing a bit of yalnabark wouldn’t fix. I’m sorry to intrude on your morning but I need to talk to Neteyam in private.” You finished your sentence looking at Neteyam. His gaze hardened and he nodded, leaving the tent with you.

You didn’t say a word to him, you just walked. You didn’t know where was most appropriate to have this talk but your feet seemed to be taking you to your own tent. Neteyam noticed and picked up the conversation, “Can you get this over with please? I have things to do today.” He sounded like a brat which only riled you up, setting a blaze in your chest.

You stopped outside your tent, unsure of why your mind brought you here instead of somewhere more appropriate. You didn’t really want Neteyam scoping around your bedroom. “I’m just picking you up on the stunt you pulled yesterday. You know, carrying me to my mother didn’t make me forget that you deliberately disobeyed my orders.” Neteyam clenched his jaw, his own chest heaved with sudden rage. You watched in amusement at his reaction to your words.

“I saved your fucking life.” Neteyam told you through gritted teeth. The angry tension between the two of you came crashing back, hitting you like a brick. Your skin suddenly felt like fire, every inch of it blazing with his glare. “I didn’t need you to.” You hissed. Your tail portrayed your anger, hitting the ground numerous times with a muffled thump.

Neteyam grimaced in anger, before grabbing you by the sides of your arms and shoving you into your tent. Luckily, it was only you that lived there. Neteyam took no notice of your shocked reaction, you were already pinned against the far wall before you had time to realise what just happened.

His arms on either side of your head locked you in and you had no choice but to look at him. “What the fuck are you doing!” You asked. Neteyam smiled and cocked his head at you but it made your stomach drop. There was something different in his eyes. A nasty glint that he’s never shown you before.

“I’ve just about had enough of you. You’re a fucking brat. You can’t just admit you needed help. Well look where it’s got you.” He sneered. You hated the reaction your body was having to his words. His words rang with spite and it was turning you on.

You clenched your thighs together, desperate for him not to notice the wetness pooling in your loincloth. Neteyam’s eyes flickered down and smiled, “You’re a dirty slut you know that. You give me no choice.” Before you could even take a breath, he had you on your bed. Your hands are locked in an iron grip above you and his steaming body is pressed flush against yours. There wasn’t a millimetre of space between you. You could feel his hot breath on your face, his rapid beating, his throbbing bulge.

You squirmed under him, feeling your arousal grow by the second. Your core was burning, aching for attention. Neteyam smirked smugly as he watched you whine and grind your hips into his bulge. Desperate for his touch. “Neteyam please.” You mewled. He brushed hair out of your face gently and lowered down to place a delicate kiss to your jaw.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Your bratty whining only makes the urge to bend you over and fuck the attitude out of you stronger.” He mumbled against your skin, face still against your soft skin.

You hummed, feeling the pool between your legs intensify. You were going dumb and he hadn’t even properly touched you yet. Neteyam gave in to your desperate eyes, crashing his lips into yours and letting go of your hands to caress your cheeks. It was a passionate kiss, both of you wanting to prove your dominance. Neteyam won, his tongue roaming your mouth as your hands found the strings of his loincloth and tugged on it.

Neteyam released from the kiss and pushed your hands back down, releasing a laugh. “So desperate, Y/n.” You rolled your eyes and huffed. Neteyam tightened his grip on your wrists making you hiss.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Neteyam’s voice was sinister, stealing your ability to speak. You gulped up at him. “Speak. Or you won’t get anything from me, baby.” He rolled his hips into yours, the sudden friction making you gasp.

“Yes. Yes I did alright, fuck.” You told him.

Neteyam shook his head and suddenly ripped your loincloth off, disregarding it carelessly. His breath hitched for a moment as he saw the sight of your soaked pussy, calling out to be filled.

“If you cum before I tell you to, I’ll make you regret it.” He warned you before starting to place gentle, sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin on your inner thighs. Your slit was producing so much slick, Neteyam could practically taste it on the air. You whined, the fire in your core blazing hotter by the second.

“Alright sweet girl, I hear you.” He smiled as he watched your body tremble for him, little whines releasing from your pretty mouth. Neteyam licked a strip up your pussy, slick coated his tongue and the taste was something he couldn’t describe.

It was like sweet nectar, just flowing out of you. The sudden surge of pleasure made your back arch and a gasp escape you. Neteyam pinned you down by your thighs, you were unable to escape his mesmerising tongue. It lapped at your juices, absolutely obsessed with your taste.

“Oh fuck, Neteyammm.” You moaned out, scrunching your face in pleasure as his brought his thumb to your clit. Your whole body rippled with ecstasy. A knot tied in an unknown pit in your stomach, slowly unravelling with every movement of his tongue and circle of his thumb.

“Great mother, Y/n. You taste so good.” Neteyam was lost in the taste of your sweet juices. Drinking them up like he hadn’t drank all day. Thirsty as fuck.

“Neteyam please, I’m gonna cum!” You moaned, desperately tangling your fingers in his braids and trying to grind up into his face to get more friction.

Neteyam smiled, letting you rut your pussy into his face while he rubbed relentless circles into your clit. Your legs were beginning to tremble, your eyes rolled back and a sheen of sweat formed over your body as you chased your orgasm.

“Don’t you fucking dare. You don’t get to cum.” Neteyam growled at you, pinning your legs down by your thighs to stop the rutting of your hips. The knot in your stomach was begging to unravel, it was almost painful. The pleasure stopped and a sinking feeling settled within you.

You whined like a baby, desperately moving to get some friction against anything. Neteyam watched in disbelief, the girl that’s hated him his whole life squirming and begging for him to keep eating her out. She would never live this down.

You groaned in annoyance, “Fuck, Neteyam please. I’m sorry okay, I’ll do anything just p-please finish me.” You whimpered, begging him with your eyes to touch you.

“Alright alright, sweet thing.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Is this okay?” He asked you for consent to thrust his slender fingers into your aching hole. You nodded frantically, the consent just made you hotter.

Neteyam smiled, showing his sharp fangs before slipping them into your tight hole. Your back arched once again, feeling his fingers so deep within you only made you wonder how you would take the cock that was throbbing in Neteyam’s loincloth.

Neteyam curled his fingers sweetly so they were just brushing your sweet spot with every thrust. You were becoming a moaning mess under him, squirming and crying out for him. “Your little sounds are gonna send me over the edge, sweet thing.” Neteyam told you.

“Oh! Neteyam! Fuck!” You felt the knot in your stomach start to slip. You were so close. Neteyam made eye contact and he smiled, “You can cum, it’s okay. Cum for me, Y/n.” He suddenly increased his speed, hitting your sweet spot with no mercy.

“Fuck- Fuck! I’m coming!” You cried out before you finally released around his fingers. Neteyam’s eyes widened as you squirted all over his abdomen.

Your legs twitched and Neteyam pulled his fingers out of you when he knew you were done. Neteyam lapped up your juices that covered your thighs and wiped his mouth when he was done.

You watched as he licked up and swallowed your sweetness in awe. Your legs still twitched and you brought your hands to your face to hide the rush of blood that was burning in your cheeks.

Neteyam tsked and pulled your hands away, pinning them at your sides. He smiled, placing a kiss to your lips. “You don’t get to hide, sweet thing. You just squirted all over me, you can’t get shy on me now. We’ve only just started.” You gulped at his words and Neteyam nibbled at your jaw.

You hummed and brought your hand up to the rock hard bulge in Neteyam’s loincloth, palming him softly through the thin material. Neteyam sighed, looking at you with so much lust in his eyes

You looked up at him through thick eyelashes, untying the strings of his loincloth carefully. You finally got it removed, teasing Neteyam with how long it took you. His cock spring out, slapping his stomach. He was huge to say the least, bigger and thicker then anyone you’d even been with before. A nervous feeling settled in your chest, how were you going to take this?

Neteyam chuckled, “You’ll be fine, sweet thing.” Your nervousness must have been evident on your face. “I know.” You said, before stooping your head down to suck gently at his thick tip. Neteyam closed his eyes, he didn’t want you to know that his tip was extremely sensitive. He honestly could cum just from getting his tip sucked.

You noticed his body language, his body tensed and his breathing was raspy. You released his tip from your lips and smiled. “How cute.” You smirked. Neteyam gave you a look, telling you not to test him.

“Don’t make me ask, Y/n.” He told you. Your mouth lingered around his cock, refusing to make contact. Neteyam gritted his teeth and grabbed at your hair, making you yelp suddenly.

“Suck. Now.” He told you before releasing your hair. Neteyam watched as you submitted to him, taking his length in your mouth with difficulty. Your eyes couldn’t rip away from Neteyam’s, keeping eye contact as you forced his cock down your throat. Your eyes were stinging and your lungs were screaming for air. The air coming in your nose was keeping you from passing out.

“You can do it baby.” Neteyam cooed at you, grasping your hair gently and easing the last few inches down your throat. Neteyam screwed his face up in pleasure, your gagging was only sending him closer to the edge.

Your eyes were streaming tears so thick you could hardly even see Neteyam’s face anymore. His moans got louder as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck I’m gonna cum in your mouth. You’re gonna show me before you swallow okay.” He told you. You nodded and continued to bob up and down on his cock.

You felt it twitch in your mouth and with a loud groan, he spilled his cum into your mouth making sure you got every last drop. You pooled it in your mouth, making sure not to swallow it as he told you. Neteyam’s chest heaved and he gestured for you to open your mouth, grasping you by the jaw. Without warning he gathered his own saliva and spat it into your mouth. He smirked and said, “You can swallow now.”

You kept eyes contact with him as you swallowed his thick seed. “Good girl.” He said, kissing your lips slowly.

You panted into the kiss, you were so desperate for him to be in you. “Neteyam. I need you- Please fuck me.” You begged. He smiled and placed a simple kiss on your neck before flipping you over so you were on all fours.

Your back arched instinctively, giving Neteyam a clear view of your dripping pussy. Your tail wrapped around his back, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiled and kissed gently down your arched spine. “Tell me if it hurts. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” He told you and you nodded and whimpered back, feeling his tip sliding between your folds.

He held your hips tightly as he slowly slid just half of his cock into your wetness. A sharp gasp escaped both you and him, and you felt his thumbs pinched on the sides of your hips. Pleasure completely took over him. Your mouth was left open, drool pooled in your mouth. You gulped thickly and Neteyam felt your muscles relaxed and took that as a sign that you were ready for the rest of him.

He pushed the rest of him into you, leaving only his knot. He groaned out as he felt your tight walls engulfing him. You tried desperately to adjust to his length and moaned as his swiped your sweet spot. Neteyam couldn’t help himself and rolled his hips gently into your ass, thrusting in and out of you slowly.

You moaned out, feeling that familiar knot form in your stomach. Neteyam’s slow thrusts gave you time to adjust and you squirmed, “N-Neteyam, faster please.” He did as he was asked and picked up his speed, falling into a ruthless rhythm. You cried out as he hit at your sweet spot, holding you from squirming away by your hips.

Neteyam was sure he couldn’t go any deeper into your but he tried anyway and groaned as he poked into your cervix and abused your sweet spot, making you cry out and grasp at the fur pelt of your bed.

Neteyam slapped your ass and your mouth fell open, the skin tingling and burning with his handprint. Neteyam ducked his head down to your ear and growled, “No sweetheart. I want the whole village to hear how good I’m making you feel.” He placed a kiss to your neck and you moaned as a response.

“Mmm Neteyam please, I’m so close!” You fumbled over your own rough breathing.

Neteyam groaned, your words sending him closer to his release and your walls fluttered around his cock. “Beg for it, Y/n.” He ordered it, you shook your head and moaned. Neteyam slowed his thrusts almost to a complete stop and you cried at the loss of pleasure. “No no! Please Neteyam, please let me cum. Please!” You begged and Neteyam was satisfied with your response, returning to his previous pace.

“Oh fuck! I’m cumming!” You exclaimed as your legs began to tremble and a surge of pleasure was slowly washing over you. “I’m right behind you.” Neteyam moaned as you clenched around him and convulsed on his cock. He painted your walls white and for a minute you both just rode out your highs. The moans eventually stopped and he slowly pulled out of you, watching as his cum pooled between your legs.

He laughed and said, “We are doing this again.” Before trying to find something to clean you up with. You didn’t want to know what you’d just started but you had a feeling Neteyam might deliberately be disobeying your orders more often if it meant it ended like this.

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ckret2 · 10 months

Text

This chapter is a whole lot of Bill and Ford talking and I couldn't think of a good illustration for it, so have a funny comic instead.

Here's chapter 9 of The Pines Have Captured Human Bill Cipher And Nobody Is Happy About It (Title TBD), recent chapters are in my #my writing tag and on god I'll have a master post before chapter 10.

####

Ford knocked on the bathroom door. "Time's up. You've had your two hours, Cipher."

There was no reply.

Ford glanced at Stan.

Stan grumbled under his breath and cracked his knuckles. "BILL!" He pounded on the door. "Either you come out of the bathroom, or we're dragging you out by your ankles!"

No reply.

"That's it," Stan snapped. Ford nodded in agreement and took a step back to cover Stan as he opened the door.

The bathroom reeked of chemically-enhanced rotten eggs. From knee-height down, every single surface in the room was plastered with curly blond hair. Behind the bath tub—naked, curled up in a ball, and hiding beneath a towel like a child—was Bill.

Stan and Ford gaped at the scene. And then they cracked up.

"Most—" Stan wheezed, "Most people just use shampoo! But hey, whatever floats your boat!"

Trying to sound stern and failing, Ford said, "You'd better help clean this up."

Bill didn't reply.

Stan coughed and pounded on his chest. "Gah. Almost choked on my dentures."

"How did you do this? I know we removed the blades from the room." Ford was glad he'd put on his boots. He picked up a bottle of hair removal cream from the bath tub and tested the weight. Almost empty. "You didn't use this on your scalp, did you? It's far too caustic for facial skin."

Stan asked, "How do you know?"

"I've experimented with many shaving techniques, Stanley."

Bill didn't reply.

"Bill?" Ford's smile faded. "Did you burn yourself?" If he was burned badly enough, that was an infection risk—the last thing they needed was to haul their prisoner to a doctor...

Ford took another step toward Bill. Bill tightened his arms around his knees and retreated further into the corner. And still he said nothing.

####

Stan and Ford agreed that dragging Bill's naked butt out of the bathroom wouldn't do anything to help protect Gravity Falls from the horrible alien triangle menace, and also wouldn't make them feel particularly noble; so they left the door open, told Bill to get dressed and get out, Stan went back to bed, and Ford sat in the attic window seat to wait.

It took almost twenty minutes before Ford heard Bill shuffling around, and another ten before he finally emerged. Bill had dressed, thank goodness, but still had the towel draped over his head, like a Victorian widow in a mourning veil. Ford wondered if it was bad to find the sight of Bill's obvious distress so, so funny, or if the fact that it was Bill made it okay.

Bill got close enough to his window seat nest to spy Ford's boots from beneath his towel, veered off to the side, and curled up in a corner of the attic.

"Well," Ford said, to say something; and then drew a blank. Finally, he said, "The next time you claim you don't know how to bathe correctly, I'll believe you."

Ford could have sworn he heard the towel-covered lump hiss like a leaky tire. Had he gotten a laugh?

The ice broken, Ford went on: "Are you injured? That stuff can burn even when used correctly. And—you did not use it correctly."

No response.

"Just—why did you—why?"

No response.

"Say something so I know I don't have to call an ambulance and tell them you're in shock." Ford did not relish the idea of explaining a mysterious woman with no ID to a hospital.

Apparently, neither did Bill, because he muttered, "I don't need medical assistance." And then, "So I didn't want hair. Baldness isn't a sin. Get off my back."

"That's a heck of a way to get rid of it."

"Yeah, wow, I guess so. I wonder why I didn't just use a razor."

"You could have... You could have asked for a shave."

Bill let out another tire-wheeze laugh. At the thought of asking for help, or at the thought that he'd have received it?

"Bill—"

"Go away."

Ford frowned; but he got up, shut the bathroom door so Bill couldn't go back in, and went downstairs.

And a few minutes later, came back with a sandwich made out of the first odds and ends he could find in the fridge, and a six pack of hard apple cider. "Here." He set the plate and six pack on the floor near Bill. "Mrs. Ramirez hasn't touched it, I promise."

Bill didn't move, not even to see what food Ford had brought.

Ford shifted his footing nervously, his common sense insisting that he'd demonstrated all the common decency he was obliged to and that it was time to go; and then he sat down again on the window seat. "Listen," he said. "Bill." (He shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be talking to Bill Demon-Triangle Dimension-Destroyer Cipher, eternal nemesis, ruiner of Ford's life, threatener of his family; but right now, it was hard to see Bill Cipher beneath the hurting human.) "I've—been here before. I know what it's like to—to be trapped in an alien dimension, surrounded by hostile locals, with no way home." He tried not to think about the fact that Bill was the main reason Ford had been trapped, or that Ford was now one of the hostile locals, or that the locals (and Ford especially) had a damn good reason to be hostile to Bill, or that they all didn't want Bill to get home. He was kind of curious find out where the heck he was going with this conversation. "I know what that... grief is like."

Ford thought it might be an insult to suggest Bill was capable of grief; but Bill didn't twitch. Ford went on. "I know how tempting it is to—to ignore everything but the fight ahead. Never mind hot food, shelter, showers, fresh clothes, a comfortable bed. Luxuries you can tend to when your work is done. But—a fire can't keep burning without fuel and fresh air. Depriving yourself those 'luxuries' doesn't turn you into some ascetic warrior-monk. It simply... burns you out. It makes it that much harder to achieve anything." Ford shrugged. "I—learned that the hard way."

He tried not to think about the fact that Bill had been the fight Ford had burned himself out for. Or the fact that Bill no doubt saw Ford as his fight. Or the fact that Ford didn't want Bill to achieve anything. He immediately regretted the decision to find out where he was going with this conversation. What was he doing?

Voice muffled, Bill said, "You think you're the only person who's ever had to get used to an alien dimension before?"

And Ford remembered—a moment too late—that Bill had destroyed his home. It was so easy to take that information, the horrific enormity of it, and stop there; but follow the implications one step further, and that meant Ford had never once seen Bill in his own dimension. As long as Ford had known him and billions of times longer, Bill had been a stranger in a strange land. Ford should write off this conversation as a loss and leave.

"This isn't my first rodeo," Bill said. "But hey, thanks for coming back up just to patronize me. It's really what I needed tonight."

To hell with leaving. Ford wasn't letting Bill get the last word in after Ford had tried to do something nice. "This is your first time being a human in an alien dimension," Ford pointed out. "You said it yourself earlier—I bathe hundreds of times a year and you don't. As an energy being, you've never had to make time for daily showers, or sleep, or exercise, or..." He almost said food but paused. He'd seen Bill eat as a triangle. Was that fun or necessity? Never mind. "You probably think those chores are beneath you—but your body needs them whether you like it or not."

Bill laughed harshly. "Wow, this is rich coming from you. 'Eat better and bathe more,' says the guy who locked me out of the fridge and bathroom."

"I—" Well. Ford couldn't really argue with that. And he didn't regret it. "I know it's... not an ideal situation." The opportunity hung in the air for an and I'm sorry, and Ford self-consciously hurried past it. It was the thing one said in these situations, but it wasn't true. He wasn't sorry, he shouldn't be sorry, Bill was here on death row. "But I'm just trying to..." The sentence died. Why, exactly, was he trying to help Bill?

"Why would I want any help from you?" Bill's voice was venomous; and under the circumstances, Ford couldn't fault him for that. "Even if you didn't kill me and capture me! For all your talk of needing shelter and comfort when you're stuck in another dimension—you never accepted any help from me. But you think I can't take care of myself?"

Ford stared at Bill. (Not that there was much to stare at, except the top of a towel.) "I never accep—? You never offeredany help!" Not that he would have accepted it if Bill had, but just the outrageous suggestion that Bill had been—what?—charitably offering interdimensional refugee services that Ford had stubbornly turned down—?

"I never got the chance! You dove into the first wormhole you could find—you didn't even bother to say 'hi'!"

"Why would I say 'hi' after everything you—! Plus, you placed a bounty on my head! Within thirty seconds of my arrival!"

"So I got excited!" Bill uncurled just enough to shrug. "Anyway, the bounty was to bring you to me alive! C'mon, Stanford, I know you steered away from the frats in college, but you know what a little friendly hazing is, right?"

Flabbergasted, Ford echoed, "'Hazing'?" And then, even more disbelieving, "'Friendly'?"

"Wh... Sure!" One eye, almost luminescent in the shadows beneath the towel, peered over Bill's knees. As if Bill was as baffled as Ford and needed to see him for himself. "You built us a portal, you got cast out of your dimension into ours—you were gonna get a hero's welcome! You'd joined the gang! You were one of us!"

"I'd—spent weeks trying to stop you!"

"So?"

Ford gaped. Bill was a liar, he reminded himself—a liar, a manipulator, and a conman. He'd say anything to portray himself however he thought most useful. Ford remembered arriving in the Nightmare Realm. He'd relived it over and over—in hundreds, if not thousands of nightmares. "That was no welcome party. You were surrounded by an army of monsters."

"Hey, those are my pals you're talking about!" Bill laughed—a sincere, easy sound. It was unnerving, how real that laugh sounded. "Hate to point out the obvious, Sixer, but you've got a handshake that '30s Hollywood woulda designed a whole movie monster around. Who are you to judge appearances!"

Ford's thoughts flashed briefly to the Glass Shard Beach freak show he'd met as a child—the humans who'd called themselves "monsters" and who'd called Ford their "abnormal ally," the frightening friendly freaks who'd welcomed him warmly. He pushed the thought away. Bill wasn't running some kind of weirdo sanctuary; he probably just thought making Ford think he was would win him some sympathy. "You were sitting on a throne. Made out of optical illusions. Like a self-appointed tyrant."

"Oh, you noticed my throne!" Bill's head lifted a little more. "I got that custom made! It's upholstered with the torn fabric of reality! Say, did it look three-dimensional to you? I'm told it looks 3D if you cross your eyes just right, but, well, you need two eyes to cross 'em."

"Wh—" Ford blinked, trying to remember what the throne had looked like. "Was it... not 3D?"

"No way! Do you have any idea what it'd cost to upholster a whole extra dimension in the fabric of reality? I'm not about to drop that kind of gold on a feature I wouldn't even use!" Bill grinned up at Ford. All Ford could see was the one eye and his teeth. "But hey, if you couldn't even tell the difference—I guess the autostereogram detailing was worth it!"

And Ford thought, he means it. Bill, mad thing he was, never thought that being Ford's friend and destroying Ford's universe were mutually incompatible. When Ford had arrived in the Nightmare Realm, Bill hadn't been hunting him, he'd been welcoming him. Lounging on his stupid tacky throne, hanging out with his terrible friends, feigning a punch at the new guy to make him flinch before laughing and inviting him to the party. And Ford—sleep-deprived, terrified, paranoid—hadn't seen it.

And then Ford thought, he's lying. It was thirty years ago—almost thirty-one years (time ticks ever on)—and Bill could say anything he wanted about what he would have done if he'd caught Ford, because he hadn't caught him. Today, Bill probably thought his comfort, if not his very survival, was dependent upon convincing his captors that he was so much less a threat than they thought he was. It's all a harmless misunderstanding! It was no misunderstanding and Bill wasn't harmless.

Ford got to his feet. "We remember that day very differently."

Bill's smile faded into the dark. "Yeah. Guess so." And then his eye disappeared as well, as Bill curled in on himself and vanished under the towel. That wasn't like him. Ford had expected at least a little gaslighting.

Strange body in a strange land. And a recent death (metaphorical or literal, Ford still wasn't sure). Of course Bill was more subdued than usual.

Ford told himself not to worry about Bill. (He was unnerved that he had to tell himself.)

"Well." Ford gestured vaguely at the sandwich, decided against doing something nice like reminding Bill he needed to eat, and said, "Don't waste food."

Ford mentally chided himself as he walked downstairs. He'd been careless; he'd almost let his guard down in front of a friend who'd betrayed him. He'd been nice to Bill. He'd tried to encourage Bill to take better care of himself—when Ford was plotting to kill him, for crying out loud! Why? Because the human body made him forget this was Bill? No. Because Bill had tricked Ford into seeing him as a friend again, for just a moment, talking about parties and pals and—of all things—his stupid upholstery? No; that had come after Ford had offered compassion. It would have been nice if Ford could have blamed Bill. He'd like to think that he was being manipulated; it would free him from any personal culpability. But Bill hadn't done anything—except look miserable.

And that didn't line up with how Ford remembered Bill. Maybe that was what had thrown him off? But—he wasn't sure. Ford had spent thirty years with his thoughts spiraling around Bill, and now it was hard to think about Bill at all without second-guessing every thought that passed through his head. He'd have to talk this out with Stan.

Another question gnawed at him as he kicked off his boots and climbed back into bed. When he'd been cast from his dimension, the portal was still functional, just uncharged. There was nothing Ford could do from within the Nightmare Realm to either reactivate or destroy the portal. Bill had seemed in too good a humor to have punishment on his mind; and since Ford had been both useless and unthreatening, Bill probably hadn't wanted to recruit him for his help or eliminate him for Bill's safety.

So what had Bill wanted him for?

What had Bill wanted him for?

Probably just to kill him. For no particular reason. For fun. Bill didn't need any other reason, Bill was insane.

Ford tried to convince himself that was true.

####

Bill had gotten careless. He almost let his guard down around a friend who'd betrayed him.

He couldn't really blame himself. He was a consummate extrovert with nobody to talk to. Captivity in and of itself was bad enough; but without his friends, he was... bored. That was the word. Bored.

Bill's stomach ached. He peered at the food Ford had brought.

After a moment, he dragged over the six pack and popped out a can of cider.

That bathroom could be useful. He'd never be trusted in there for two hours unsupervised again, but if he mastered the art of the ten-minute shower and claimed he still needed an hour, that would give him some uninterrupted privacy. He could work a little magic in that time, even if he was limited to human capabilities. Most local female humans wore makeup, Melody probably kept hers in the bathroom; and in a pinch, there was toothpaste and shampoo; he could write with those. You could get a lot done with two mirrors, running water, a writing tool, and a human body full of blood.

Maybe he could call for help. Acquiring the supplies to get a call through to Hectorgon or Amorphous Shape would be difficult, much less calling any of his outerplanar pals; but Kryptos kept a psychic line open in dimension 46'\, if Bill got his hands on some candles he could reach him. At least, assuming Kryptos bothered to pick up the call. Bill hated the thought that his fate rested on whether or not the most annoying person in the multiverse felt like taking a call from an unknown number, but what could he do about it? If he could just reach the mindscape, this would be so much easier—

No, that wasn't quite accurate. He could reach the mindscape. He dreamed. He just... couldn't control it.

This body clamped onto his soul like an iron maiden. He couldn't just shed it like an old coat, the way he'd always effortlessly moved in and out of physical bodies before. He'd tried, curled up in the window for hours at a time, meditating silently, reaching for that point where he quietly detached from his borrowed form—but never grasping it. A couple of times the effort had exhausted him into falling asleep. He didn't know whether the Axolotl had done something to lock him inside this body, or if the difficulty in leaving it was a natural part of living in a human body rather than merely visiting one.

He'd probably have to figure out humans' techniques for controlling their dreams and shedding their bodies. He was sure Ford had done some reading on astral projection at Bill's suggestion, maybe he still had those books somewhere. Bill couldn't just ask for them. Ford wouldn't trust Bill with those books.

Not yet, anyway. But with time...?

Ford's little visit this evening had been... unexpectedly encouraging. Maybe the whole woe-is-me routine was working after all. Even if Ford had probably only pitied him because...

Under the towel, Bill's scalp burned. He could feel the alien contours of his head.

Never mind, never mind, never mind. This was all part of his strategy. This was his plan.

The point was—he thought, for just a moment, he'd gotten a glimpse again of the Ford that was his friend.

Bill could use that.

He'd keep working on Ford, softening him up. He'd already brought food. Rookie mistake. So few humans realized that once they'd done one favor for someone, they'd set themselves up to make every favor after that a little bit easier. He'd have Stanford Pines wrapped around his finger again in no time.

And until he'd worked his way back up to big favors, it might be nice to have someone to play chess with again. He was bored. He missed his friends.

He missed home.

He missed himself.

A lump formed in his throat.

To drown it, he popped open the first can of cider, chugged it in several large gulps, and reached for the second.

####

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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footprintsinthesxnd · 5 months

Text

Epiphany

So here is the fic to accompany the BoB x Taylor Swift moodboard for Bull. I actually really enjoyed writing for Bull for the first time. Thank you to @sarah-457 for requesting a fic for Bull Randleman. Thank you @rain-lavender-rain for proofreading.

Y/n watched in defeat as members of Easy Company trickled back into camp; bloodied and bruised, some carrying their wounded comrades, others limping in on their own. Y/n hurried to help them, guiding them to the aid station where Eugene had already begun to patch up several wounded soldiers.

“Sit down over here, kid. Where are you hit?” She asked, rolling up the young man’s trouser leg when he motioned to the wound. It wasn’t bad, a clean hit straight through. She applied some sulfa powder, dressing the wound quickly before moving on to the next casualty. Her eyes continued to scan over the stream of men entering the camp, keeping her eyes peeled for one particular sergeant.

“Hey Hoob,” she called out as Donald Hoobler walked passed her. “Have you seen Bull?”

“No sorry,” he mumbled. “Not since we retreated. He was there during the advance though. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

Y/n nodded, continuing to wrap a sling around the injured soldier's arm, her mind too preoccupied with the thoughts of Bull.

She wasn’t exactly sure when she and Bull had become friends. He was a private person and hadn’t warmed to her as quickly as the likes of George Luz and Skip Muck had but they soon became firm friends. Bull seemed to have this older brother persona and was always watching her back, even though Y/n didn’t see him as a brother and may or may not have been harbouring the world's largest crush on the sergeant.

As the night drew in, Y/n finally retreated to the foxhole she shared with Eugene, although as usual, Eugene was checking on someone. Y/n often wondered if he ever slept. He would rise early and go to bed late, the second someone was wounded he was by their side and she often wondered how he got there so quickly.

She slumped into the foxhole, cursing the world as she threw her musette bag off her shoulder. She still hadn’t seen Bull and the niggling feeling in her stomach grew to an all consuming ache.

“Hey Y/n, have you seen Bull yet?” Johnny asked, glaring down at her. Johnny always glared, despite the three of them being friends she could rarely recall a time when she witnessed Johnny Martin really smiling.

“No I haven’t seen him and I’m getting really worried,” she spoke softly, trying to hold back the inevitable tears that she’d been holding in all day.

“Some of the guys are going out on a patrol to look for him…”

“I’ll go,” Y/n interrupted, grabbing her musette bag and scrambling to her feet.

“No. No. No. Bull would never forgive me if I let you get injured whilst looking for him. Not a chance Y/L/N. Stay here. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”

She knew Johnny was right but the thought of Bull all alone, trapped and possible injured caused her heart to ache.

The next morning came too soon and with no sign of the patrol or Bull, Y/n couldn’t help the growing suspicion that something had gone terribly wrong.

She was sitting in an empty crate, counting through her medical supplies when she heard the all too familiar shout from Johnny. “BULL!”

Could it be? Was she just hearing things?

Shoving her supplies back into the musette bag she hurried over to the crowd, spying Webster and Hoobler who had gone out on last nights patrol. Then the unmissable figure of Bull Randleman appeared, his great barking laughter filled the air as he embraced Johnny and several other paratroopers.

“Bull?” She called out, stopping in her tracks. The group of paratroopers all turned to face her. Now normally at this point in the movies the girl would go running towards the man, jump into his arms and they share a passionate kiss as music plays around them. This however is real life and neither one moved. Johnny coughed and began to usher the other paratroopers away.

“Little lady,” Bull greeted her with his usual nickname, watching her cautiously as the cogs in Y/n mind seemed to turn into overdrive. Something within her snapped and she felt herself hurtling towards the large man her first raised.

“YOU IDIOT! What the hell were you thinking! You could have died!” She felt her fists hammering against his chest as she shouted, cried, screamed at him in anguish. Bull just stood still, waiting patiently for her to calm down.

“I could have lost you,” she sobbed, burying her face into his ODs. Bull quickly wrapped his large arms around her, pulling her closer to him and muffling her cries.

“Those Kraut bastards couldn’t kill me if they tried and by God did they try. I’ve got too much to live for to do something stupid like dying,” he confessed, cupping her cheek in his warm hand and bringing her face up to look her in the eyes.

“I’m sorry I made you worry. I promise I’ll try not to do it again.” He smiled and his heart swelled as she returned it with a tearful grin.

“You’d better keep that promise, Bull Randleman.”

“Anything for you Little Lady.” He looked passed her to check the others had dispersed before pulling her close again and placed a much needed kiss to her lips. The smell of tobacco was strong as she kissed him and had it been on anyone else she’d have probably pulled away for some fresh air but it made her want to kiss him more. His strong arms wrapped around her, pressing against the small of her back.

“Bull, I…”

“Shhh. For once in your life just don’t worry,” Bull comforted her but she fought against his grip.

“No Bull. I can’t give you my heart, you might break it and I don’t know if I could survive that.” Y/n felt tears welling in her eyes again and wiped her face in the grimy sleeve of her ODs.

Bull looked down at her, his eyes shining with adoration. “Oh Little Lady, I could never break your heart. I promise I’ll look after it.” Bull kissed her again, this time gentiler and slower, savouring every moment of…

“Hey Bull! Y/N! Come on, we're moving out.” Johnny called from somewhere on the road behind them and the pair couldn’t help but giggle like naughty children.

“Come on, let’s get that shoulder looked at Tough Guy.”

“Anything for you, Little Lady.”

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @merriell-allesandro-shelton @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky

#band of brothers #bull randleman x reader #bull randleman #band of brothers fics

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akutasoda · 4 months

Note

Hello!!! Can i request where reader (us) gets injured very badly from protecting them ^^ especially Chuuya pleasee you can also add other characters♡ Feel free to ignoreee~☆

im glad you were strong

synopsis - they'd be dammned if anything happened to you, especially right in fron of them for their sake

includes - chuuya, oda, natsume

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, angst to comfort, mentions of injury, wc - 903

chuuya nakahara ★↷

if there was one thing that you and chuuya had in common was stubbornness. noticeably he was more stubborn than you but you had your own ways of behaving in such a way. this trait paired with your love for eachother often meant it could have dire consequences that started as sweet intentions.

and that was what had occurred. a mission with your beloved, nothing seemed to be able to go wrong but there always was exceptions. something had caught you off guard and still left chuuya blindly unaware. and that something was a quick flash of what seemed to be one of the opposition's ability users.

it didn't really matter to you which one because before you knew it you had jumped in the way. red flashed in his vision as he turned around just in time to witness you get injured and all of a sudden it was like one of his worst fears come true. the enemy was crushed under the weight of gravity in a mere matter of seconds that was only intensified by his anger and panic.

simultaneously, he grabbed your body and brought it to his chest as he sat you down properly to assess the damage. it was a rather large gash that ran from your shoulder and across to your wrist. he wanted to scold you, he really did as if it were any worse you most likely would've died on the spot. but you were still here and if anything he needed to get you medical attention.

he always wanted to protect you. he wouldn't know what he would do should you leave, but he knew you'd do the same. which was what you did. and no matter how much he scolded you you could only sheepishly laugh and tell him it was worth it to keep him safe.

sakunosuke oda ★↷

he was always extremely cautious about the line of work he occupied. especially when it came to involving you. the last thing he'd ever want was for you to receive his backlash for his mafia duties and it put you in danger.

but he knew how strongly you could feel about things and protecting him was one of those things. you were both well aware that either of you would go to the ends of the earth to protect each other. and you both would stick to that.

so when you offered to meet him after he finished for the day, seeing as he got let off earlier, you didn't think much of it. you greeted him with a smile and he did the same but immediately he could tell something was going to happen. his ability activated and his mond was filled with the gruesome image of you dying before his eyes.

so before anything happened he took you in his arms and to safety of the dingy little alley between the shops. he knew as long as he could see what happened next nothing could touch you. and so he was able to successfully loose the unknown assailant and then decided to just go home with you.

but even back in the safety of your shared home, those images stuck with him. what would he do with himself if he lost you? the image of you dying before his eyes taunted him constantly, playing at the back of his mind. and as he drew you ever closer at night, all he could think about was keeping you safe. even if he had to risk his life to do so.

natsume soseki ★↷

it was rather a safe assumption to say that not many knew of his existence - or rather the ones that did, normally didn't have the friendliest intentions. it always did concern you a little but you knew he was capable and so were you! and the fact he was under witness protection for a reason you didn't know yourself.

but recently he had really worried you by arriving home later than he planned. he informed you that something occurred at the play he had set out to watch but it had been sorted and there was no worries. you hated when he did this. but you both knew by this point what that met and so you simply told him to keep safe.

but it seemed the group that was out for him this time were a bit more persistent than usual. he had left earlier the next morning and around lunch you informed him you were heading out for a shop and he offered to join you. by no surprise, he asked you to meet just neaf the bar he frequented for some reason.

you smiled upon seeing that same calico fur approach you. but something was wrong, call it intuition or call it spotting the shady figure standing not too far away. and as that figure broke into a sprint, so did you. and rightfully you sent them running but not after they landed a few hits on you. once the coast was clear, natsume shifted back and immediately took his place beside you.

you smiled at him, saying it was nothing really. but he wouldn't exactly call multiple deep slashes 'nothing'. he knew you'd do anything to protect him and he would do the same to you. doesn't mean he wont scold you when you go out of your way to protect him.

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd odasaku #odasaku x reader #oda x reader #bsd natsume #natsume x reader

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aha-chuu · 7 months

Text

I have this image in my mind of Wriothesley's trial and it goes like this:

So Wriothesley is like,,, 16. He's fresh out of the hospital and still bandaged up. He's only got one eye uncovered, the other blocked by gauze. He's a little street urchin at this point, alongside just being injured beyond belief, so he's not looking Great™.

And of course, no one even knows enough about him to fact check the name he gave the nurse.

It's not an exciting case and the trial is held first thing in the morning, right after Wriothesley was discharged from the hospital. There's not much of an audience and, of the people who are present, they're tired and grumpy and bored.

Neuvillette lists out the charges: two counts of murder, breaking and entering. He says that Wriothesley was found unconscious in critical condition at the scene of the crime, and the Gardes thought he was another victim at first. While Wriothesley was in hospital, they investigated and proved otherwise. The crowd makes a murmer of noise - if only they'd realised Wriothesley was the murderer right then; there'd be no need to have wasted resources saving his life.

Of course Neuvillette calls for order. Wriothesley is representing himself by his own choice,, how does he plead?

Guilty. Guilty on all counts.

And that's boring. Furina leaves immediately, and most of the small audience follows her in the next few minutes. The ones who stay only stay because they think they'll move onto the next trial quickly, and they hope it will be a more interesting one.

But Neuvillette must finish this one first - he asks Wriothesley for his version of events, which he provides clearly and concisely. How he'd attacked first and then one of the victims drew a knife. He expresses no remorse, but says that he accepts whatever sentence Neuvillette believes is just.

The details don't quite add up. Wriothesley never provided his motive, and the evidence shows that there was no attempt to rob the victims' house. It seems Wriothesley just had some psychopathic urge one day to break into a couple's home and kill them where they stood.

Neuvillette asks after his history; he's some homeless teenager. Well, where are his parents? Dead or gone. Left before Wriothesley could ever know them.

The audience gets a little more sympathetic. They invent this imagine in their minds of Wriothesley's tragic life, leading him to eventually snap and kill in cold blood.

So Neuvillette continues questioning, even though the case is pretty much open and shut. Has Wriothesley been on the streets his entire life? For the last few years. Where was he before that? Foster home. Did he know the victims beforehand? Yes.

And then the motive becomes clear, and Neuvillette asks him to share more. Wriothesley is still young, of course, and desperate. There could be reason to lighten the sentencing. Wriothesley maintains that he should be tried as an adult who fully understood the crime he was committing.

(and it's strange, the audience notices, that Neuvillette is acting more as Wriothesley's Defence than he is as his prosecutor. But Wriothesley himself is more interested in the latter).

Once Wriothesley has explained what his victims put him through, and laid out his reasoning for all to see, the mood shifts. The tiny audience argues among themselves; should this kid be tried at all? It was a vengeful murder, but could it be called self defense? Surely he's not deserving of the full sentence, not after everything that happened to him?

Wriothesley and Neuvillette are both silent for most of the trial, observing the crowd argue among themselves. But no one is really entertained - there's no exciting twists or raucous accusations being thrown around in this case. It's just a sad teenager and his sad life and there's too much nuance to the situation for anyone to really agree on anything.

Eventually Neuvillette has to call for order. Wriothesley is guilty of the crimes, he says. Extenuating circumstances or not, Wriothesley freely admits to having planned out revenge, so this cannot be called self defense. The Oractice has the same verdict, and Wriothesley's only response is to nod at Neuvillette. Some tiny acknowledgement on his blank expression.

Neuvillette chooses the sentence and it's shorter than the technical term. Due to Wriothesley's age and the circumstances surrounding the crime, he's given 15 years instead of 30 to life. Before Wriothesley can argue against his own good, Neuvillette clarifies that this is the most fair punishment.

#wriothesley #genshin impact #Neuvillette #Wriothesley character story leaks #brain rot brain rot brain rot #why did they do him like that #also if you've played Neuvy's story quest #well yeah they have Wriothesley's case file to read #but i need more info!!!

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thewritersaddictions · 1 year

Text

Request: The Witcher: Geralt Of Rivia- Brutal Life

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Wolf!Reader

Pov: Geralt

Warnings: Kissing, injured reader, fake monster sighting, camping, jaskier being his normal self, lone wolf, romance, fluff, dreaming.

Summary: A hurt wolf is marked as a monster so Jaskier and Geralt go to investigate. Geralt knows something is off though so he tries to be helpful.

WC- 2.0k

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers; Remember that Geralt of Rivia here on my page will continue to be written as if Henry Cavill is playing his character.

The Witcher Master List // Requests Master List

There was commotion going on just outside of the small town that we were staying in. Damn people and there need to intreput my dinner time. Jaskier was already apart of the drama happening outside. He came running back into the bar. “Jaskier what is it now?” A roll of my eyes gave tell to that small fact that I didn’t care or want to go outside to deal with commotion going on.

“Geralt you just have to help these people. You’re the witcher for fucks sake.” Jaskier wasn’t kidding. He was dragging me or at least trying to drag me towards the door of the bar. “Jaskier would you stop it already.” I mumbled out. “I’m coming alright, are you happy now.” Just outside the door the dark and loud rumbles of a growl could be heard. My interest was peaked to say the least as people ‘ohh’ and ‘awwd’ at whatever monster they had decided stupidly to surround.

By the time we got outside there was more then a gaggle of people surrounded it. Forcing it down into a tiny closed circle. “Oh the great Geralt Of Rivia here to save the day as always.’ A cocky old gente. I ignored him as I did with truly everybody in my life. “What seems to be the problem here?” I asked loudly into the crowd of people that was steadily growing.

The ‘monster’ was ovibouly not that scary, or dangerous as the crowd drew louder and crazier with every passing second. The rambles of talking and screaming, and everything else that humans are so great at doing. The smallest of whimper I heard in the crowd of people. “Can angbody get their heads out of their asses and tell me what the fuck is going on.” I asked loudly, my voice moving through the crowd.

A little girl is the one that answered me. Her voice was squeaky, and high pitched but she came forward. “Witcher it’s just a pour lonesome wolf, her leg is injured a little. She’s a whimpering mess over here.” The little girl said. I was impressed, but then the immediate stress of the world came crashing down on me. If that was so not a true monster then I wasn’t needed here, but the whimpers were so damn hard to ignore.

“Alright gents and gals it’s time to get your noses into something else that isn’t this clear none monster.” My voice boomed loudly across the field. Their were sighs, and disappointing words flying in through the sky. The growling started as soon as the crowd cleared the field and I got closer. The closer I got the more protective the wolf seemed to get. Jaskier as always was whining behind me. “Geralt let’s just go if you say it’s just some wolf then theres no need to sit around and wait for it to bite on of us.” Jaskier blabbled out. There were many times I wished that I had told Jaskier to shut up, but going to do a task was better for me right now.

“Why don’t you go gather our things from the bar, and Roach. I’m staying here to help this little one out.” I looked over my shoulder at Jaskier. There was an odd look on his face, then a shrug of his shoulders before he left the two of us in the field. The growled hadn’t stopped not even when I was talking to Jaskier.

I turned my attention back to the wolf on the ground a growling and whimpering mess. I reached one of my hands out, “Y/n is that you?” The words pouring softly. Even strange to my ears. Her eyes were so damn familiar, and I hadn’t seen her in years�� more then years. It felt like decades had passed. The last time I had seen her was when we were young children. Playing and before the world had separated us. The hand that I had reached out was getting closer and closer to being bite.

“How about we try something different huh?” I suggested, she growled lowly, and kept her eyes on me the entire time. “How about if you want help you just have to follow us.” I wasn’t one for having tag alongs but Jaskier had broken that record, and the wolf well if she was Y/n then there was nothing I would do to help her. Jaskier returned everything in his hands. A small huff of frustration falling from his lips. ‘Are you fucking insane Geralt, I can’t go around having people think I’m just your servant.” With that Jaskier dropped every single one of the bag interlocked in his arms and fingers. I rolled my eyes and walked away from the wolf towards Roach.

Petting her muzzle and then her mane. I turned and gave Y/n a knowing wink before walking towards the bleak basically dead treeline. Winter was on its way and the further we got away from the cold the happier that Jaskier would be. I kept an eye behind us as we travelled. Jaskier walking beside Roach, I kepther on the right track. “Who’s following us?” Jaskier prayed. I looked down at Jaskier. I wondered for how long had he been standing behind me, while I was talking to Y/n. “Nobody.” I clarified, as I got Roach back on the right path.

By the time that night fell on the sky, and treeline disappeared behind the dark sky I knew it was time that we stop. The last tiem I had seen Y/n walking behind us was before the sun set, and I was purposely walking Roach slower then normal for Y/n to keep up with us. Yet another thing that Jaskier commented on. “Why are you walking Roach so slow? Is she sick? You aren’t going to put her down if she’s sick are you? I’ll kill you if you do.” Jaskier rambled on, and with that the first question was forgotten behind Jaskiers concern for the well being of the horse.

The moon was high in the sky when we finally managed to settle in the small camp that we had… that I had made for the two of us. I could Y/n far in the distance, close enough to the heat. Far enough away from being caught, or taunted by either on of us. A fire burning that crackled with each burn of leaf and stick. The most scariest thing for Jaskier was the wolf, she had come to camp. A limp in her walk and still forever staying far away. A full moon had just passed and so from what little knowledge I had on wolves I assumed she would be changing form tonight in the darkest of night.

The wolf had decided that when of course she was comfortable she would join the camp. Jaskier being the scared little puppy he always was about everything wasn’t having it, and retreated to his sleeper. I tired my hardest not to laugh as Jaskier hurried away underneath the sheets of his cot. “If you feel comfortable, my lap is open for you to sit.” I muttered towards Y/n. Her ears peaked up, as she gave me a weary look. The truest of black eyes staring me down as I wondered what might happen. The growls had stopped, and the whimpers had began as Y/n walked on her paw. Small winces could be seen down her snout and with the curve of her brows underneath the prettiest fur I’d ever seen.

I waited for what seemed like a few moments. Time passed and the fire crackled against the dark sky, I waited until I felt the softest of nudge on my hand. When I did look down it was Y/n, her paw was placed gently on my hand almost bracing herself on me. Her eyes watched me with intent, keeping everything in a close enough gaze. “Y/n just lay down I promise I wont hurt you.” She took only a few seconds before making the quick choice and snuggling into my lap.

Warmth from her fur exploded into my clothing and skin. I wasn’t about tp pet her, but the closeness was enough for me. It had been so long that I hadn’t even thought of Y/n, but seeing her like this stuck in this form and hurt. My mind raced as I thought of what a cruel human being could have done this. The question popped into my head. Looking down at the curled up wolf in my lap her head rest on my thigh. “Who did this to you Y/n? You must tell me.” Gently the words flowed out soft around the edges and waiting for a response.

She just looked up and then nuzzled her nose into my thigh. A wet imprint from her nose stained my trousers, and I wondered if she’s ever tell. If she’d ever get the chance to the mutter the name of the horrible, vile, straight up disgusting human had hurt her this way. I moved ever so slightly and took Y/n with me as I lowered myself into the cot. “For now we will sleep and tomorrow you will tell me who hurt you. We have much to discuss Y/n.” I whispered into the cold winters air.

I dreamt that night for the first time in a long time. A small boy chasing a beautiful young girl. Her hair flowing in the wind before her mother had told her to cut it all off, or rather before the girl had taken a pair of shears to her hair and chopped it off at all sorts of angles uneven with each other.

I watched as she grew into a beautiful women. With piercing eyes, and a beautiful smile that made me melt in the knees. The only women to ever bring me to my knees was Y/n, the girl that hadn’t thought about in such a long time. Even has I slept the smell of Y/n whafted into my nose. Dirty, blood, but a hint of rose, and lavendar. Calm was everything that Y/n was, she was peace next to me.

In my dreams I saw a her standing there waiting for me, open arms and the widest smile on her face. Kind eyes that made you fell safe, I ran and ran as fast as my feet would let me. I wanted to feel the warmth of her body, the warmth of her heart pressed up against mine. When I reached her the batted breathe I let out felt like thousands of pounds being lifted off my shoulders.

She was the one to kiss me. Y/n lips felt so soft, not chapped and cut like mine due to the work I did. Her hand coming to rest comfortalbing in my hair as she tug and pulled me close. No fighting for dominance within the kiss or teeth scrapping against each other. We weren’t haste for time, so we took it for what it was. A peaceful, calm, deep, and loving kiss. The first of many and the best for a first. I wished that I didn’t need air, and Y/n was all that I needed in order ot survive. Y/n was my life line. In her arms I feared nothing and wanted nothing more then to be there in that moment forever with her.

A brutal life was one of waking up with her gone. Nothing was left behind as a guide of hope, just as she was here she had gone. As luck would have it for me I hope, Y/n might just come back into my life. “She went into the woods. If you move your ass you can catch up to her.” Jaskier yawned. “By the way she stole your coat. I think she might have shifted last night.” Jaskier mentioned, as I wiped the sleep from my eyes and hopped up. In search for maybe just the right person for me.

Completed on: 03/07/23

Posted on: 03/17/23

The Hero's-

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firapolemos05 · 7 months

Text

No devil hides beneath my bed

Part 1, Part 2

@whumptober | Ao3

No. 3 "Like crying out in an empty room, and no one's there except the moon."

No. 9 "Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days."

CW: NSFW (minors dni), noncon, captivity, pet whump, mind control, forced kiss, forced arousal, past whipping, licking wounds, mentioned death of a minor, multiple whumpers, creepy whumper, intimate whumper, object insertion (used to hurt and punish), spanking, bath scene, nudity, forced stripping, disassociation, restraints, future forced prostitution, whumpee injures whumper, begging, non-human whumpee, 'master' as a title, thoughts of self-harm, muzzles

(This fic is a direct sequel to my other story Still your heart, so much to prove so I recommend reading that before this. And of course Please Mind the Content Warnings.)

Tonight was not a fight night, so the Champion was rather alarmed when the silence of the dark cell was broken by the approaching footsteps of several people. Perhaps there was an event he'd forgotten? Did Master have company tonight, someone she wanted to show him off to? Was she angry?

The notion made him shiver as his blood ran cold. He thought he'd been good since the last time he was punished. Memories flooded back from that horrible night at the fighting pit. A too-young body lying cold. The bite of shackles and Master's whip. The wounds on his back were still sore.

It's why he was here, in a cold, dark stone box rather than his more comfortable quarters. His disobedience had cost him that privilege. He scrambles off the pallet serving as his makeshift bed, pushing himself to his knees as the door begins to open. But it was only a couple servants and one of the manor guards.

"You are being summoned to meet the master’s guest. She has ordered that you be presentable."

Most of the tension and anxiety drains out of the Champion’s shoulders. Ah, so it was just some company for the night. Nothing too out of the ordinary. He wasn't in trouble. Master wasn't angry.

He rises to his feet, following them down the familiar corridor to the baths. If he was being displayed to a guest, then he needed to look his best. He may be a fighter who got himself covered with blood and bruises for other's entertainment, but outside the caged arena, all he was was Master Scarlet's pretty little trophy. And pretty little trophies shouldn't be soiled with dirt, or unkempt hair, or the smell of old stone that enclosed his cell.

None of them speak a word, not during the walk, and not when they enter the bright, cold marble room. The servants because it was unnecessary; they knew the procedure. The Champion because he was not permitted to speak to them. Or at all, and he learned long ago what doing so without permission would get him. The guard takes post at the door while the other two strip the tiefling of the sparse fabric adorning his body. The enchanted gilded gold shackles chaining his wrists, along with his golden collar, are left untouched.

The hot water is a rare comfort. It chases away the chill of the stone tiles where he kneels, glittering black streaked with bold white. The servants pour the water and lather various scented oils and lotions into his skin and hair.

There was once chains dangling from the ceiling, forcing him upright as they hosed him down.

He lets his mind drift off. The air smells of roses and apricots.

He'd snap at any hands that drew close, until they forced a muzzle over his head and sedatives into his bloodstream.

Indifferent hands scrub a bit too rough at his still healing back. It hurts, he doesn't dare move.

' "He's forgotten that he is first and foremost a slave." '

It's far from the worst bath the Champion has ever had. He at least now has the privilege of being allowed to clean his lower half on his own.

He buries the memories back down.

One moment the warm steam curls up his skin, and he lets himself get lost in the feeling of being somewhere else. Someplace with no chains, cages, or whips to assault him. Someplace he can finally see the sun as much as he wants.

Then the next moment, he blinks and there's the touch of smooth, cool fabric. The water is gone, and he's standing as the servants dress him. By now he's already accustomed to the disappointment. Pants of sheer black chiffon embroidered with tiny red gemstones secured with laces up his thighs. Opaque black cloth with golden thread hangs from his waist, front and back. And finally a sash of red silk, set across his lower back before looping around to criss-cross his chest. The gold hooks fastened to either end clipping onto his collar.

It's certainly on the more revealing side of outfits Master has made him wear. But if the tiefling's opinions had mattered at all to her, he wouldn't be here.

Then came the jewelry. Dainty gold chains and more red gems. Draped elegantly around his arms, hips, horns, and tail. Tonight's guest must be expensive clientele if Master is decorating him this much. But they're finished with preparing him, so perhaps the Champion can finally get this meeting over with.

A lift brings them up to the main part of the manor, the churning of the mechanisms a pleasant break to the absent voices. Its doors open, and their master is waiting for them. All three kneel upon stepping off the platform.

With the Champion’s head bowed low, he feels his master’s eyes rove over his form, before she gives a pleased hum. "Good work with him, you two," she praises the servants. "You are dismissed. Follow me, my pet."

She leads him down one of many hallways, lined with various artworks and shining sconces. It's unfamiliar, and while he's supposed to keep his eyes cast downward, he can't help but take in the decor. Usually when Master presents him, he's brought to the dining room or the parlor, or some other gathering area for guests.

She stops at a pair of wooden doors, and once opened, gestures for him to enter.

It's one of the guest bedrooms.

A crackling fireplace bathes the space in a warm glow, colluding with the darkness leaking in from the night outside the windows and balcony doors. The glow lights up the rich browns of the wooden furniture, carved with ornate motifs that must be the bane of whomever was tasked with keeping them polished and free of dust. His eyes are immediately drawn to the large four-poster bed. The columns at its corners taper to spire-like points above the canopy frame, from which hang silk drapes of burgundy. A cushioned bench sits at its foot, and a plush rug of intricate patterns ('looks like Muthamian make,' says a far-off point of his mind) spans the area of dark hardwood surrounding the bed.

"Ah there he is." The voice pulls the Champion’s attention back to the opposite end of the room. A figure rises from an armchair in front of the fireplace, and years of training make the tiefling drop to his knees, eyes down. "My my. You have my compliments, Scarlet. This is quite the ravishing introduction."

Something about the man's tone doesn't sit well. It twists a knot in his stomach. He can't pinpoint exactly why, it's not like this was the first time someone made condescending remarks towards him.

"I figured this would be to your liking," Master replies. One of her fingers strokes the spikes on his horns, flicking a dangling gemstone. "You did mention wanting to see him in red."

Footfalls approach, and black leather shoes with gold buckles enter the Champion’s vision. A snap of fingers tells him he should look up. Pale stockings, slate blue pants rising high on the waist, a white dress shirt frilled at the collar and cuffs, and a smiling face framed in brown hair. In his hand was a wooden cane with a curved ivory handle.

"A pleasure to formally meet you, Champion," the man greets, words rolling with a thick Mężnydzik accent. Short, rounded ears speak human and high-quality clothes plus a well-trimmed beard speak high class. "Ivan Mitreski, I am an associate of your master."

"It's nice to meet you, sir." The Champion’s reply is automatic.

"Ivan here is rather new to the business with the fighting ring. He was witness to some of your most recent matches."

"Indeed, I was quite impressed. Though it's a shame you weren't able to handle killing that last dark elf fighter."

The comment feels like a slap to the face. Why did he have to remind him of such a failure, a horrible act he was forced to commit?

"His disobedience did come as a surprise," Master states, the coldness of her words further chilling his nerves. "But he won't be foolish enough to repeat such an offense, isn't that right, pet?"

"Yes, Master."

"Why don't you show Ivan what happens when you disobey." She snaps her fingers again and points down.

The tiefling bites his lip and quiets the part of his mind that bristles with humiliation. He hated this command. Lowering his chest to the floor, he crosses his shackled wrists to rest his head on, then raises his hips with an arch of his back. With nothing but a single sash of silk over his torso, there was barely anything to hide the tender stripes now on full display.

He awaits Ivan to make some sort of remark, relieved that he at least didn't have to see the man's face. But instead he was nearly jolted out of his skin as Ivan touched one of the wounds.

"So sensitive."

He wishes he could bite him. Touch still stings.

"If there’s anything else you find yourself desiring, feel free to ring one of the servants. Though come straight to me if he gives you trouble."

'Wait, what?'

"Of course, Scarlet. Again you have my sincerest gratitude for this."

And without a single regard for her pet's confusion, Master turns and departs the room. The Champion was left breaking position to stare at the closed door in bewilderment.

Master never left him alone with a guest.

'What's going on?'

"Your master has allowed me to spend time with you for a little while." Ivan sits on the bench in front of the bed, cane to the side, and gestures for him to come closer. "Don't be shy now, I'd like to talk with you."

The expression was soft, inviting. A warmth washes over him, easing his nervousness and tension, and he crawls over to kneel in front of the man. Ivan just wants to talk with him, almost no one ever wanted to make conversation with a slave. This would be a nice break from the norm.

"What would you like to talk about, sir?"

"I'd love to hear more about you. Tell me, how did you come to be Scarlet's fighter?"

He usually didn't like to think about this, the memories were often unclear, but with clarity began tragedy. But Ivan wanted to hear what he had to say, so it'd be rude to not answer his questions. "I don't remember everything, sir, but I did something unlawful and got caught. Master says she brought me here as punishment."

"I see, I see," the man nods, no judgment in his tone. "And how long have you been here?"

Another one he didn't know for sure. Prior to the fighting ring, Master had him held under some sort of spell that left him nothing more than a feral animal. Time and language meant nothing. He had no idea how long she kept him like that. "A few years. Sorry I don't know the exact number. But I do know I've been brought to the fights for about four years."

"And from what your master tells me, you became the Champion not too long after joining. That's quite impressive."

"Thank you, sir."

Simple questions like that Ivan asks him. Back and forth they went. The man asked him his age (Master says he's in his early 20s), if he had any family (not anymore), where he grew up (the outskirts of Altruek Atea). The question if he'd ever been in a relationship before seemed a bit off, but when he answered in the negative, Ivan didn't press further, so it was probably harmless.

"Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?"

That catches him off guard. Without thinking, he looks up and Ivan is leaning forward, arms resting on his knees, leveling the tiefling with a strange smile. He doesn't scold the Champion for making eye contact.

It was a compliment, right?

"N-not really. Master sometimes calls me that, but not in a serious way."

"Well that's a shame." His hand reaches over and brushes a lock of black hair behind a pointed ear. "I'm positive you'd be quite popular, little devil."

The touch was gentle, affectionate even. He should’ve detested it. He always did when Master touched him like that, a controlling caress meant to remind him of his place. But somehow this felt different. This stranger . . .no, Ivan's hand and words didn't frighten him. This was the first normal conversation he's had with another person in years.

"Thank you," he replies, as that was the polite thing to say.

Ivan smiles some more, then pats his thigh. "Why don't you come sit with me here?"

He . . .he wanted him to sit on his lap?

"Master says I'm not allowed to sit on the furniture."

"Oh I'm sure she won't mind as long as I'm allowing it, right? Plus she's not here right now, isn't she?"

That did make sense. If Ivan is requesting him to sit with him, it must be okay in this case. And yes, Master had left them alone, with the order to call her only if her pet was being disobedient.

He doesn't want to disobey Ivan.

Rising to his feet, he walks closer. He'd been expecting to simply sit on the man's leg, so he jolts in surprise when Ivan takes hold of his arm and waist and pulls the tiefling onto himself.

"Relax, Champion."

That was a little hard to do now when he was straddling the man. This seemed too close, too . . . intimate. "Is. . .is this what you wanted?"

"Yes, you're being very good, Champion."

Good, Ivan had said. That was reassuring. He wants to be good. So he continues to be good and not move when an arm wraps around his waist. When a hand cups his chin.

When Ivan purses his lips and angles his face towards his. The pressure of the hands holding him told the Champion he should allow himself to-

'What are you DOING?!'

A bubble bursts. A sudden brick shatters the veil that was the charm spell from his mind. Just in time for his wits to scream at him to get away and his body to respond.

It was a trick. A cruel lie.

He shoves at Ivan's chest, pushing the two of them apart. His shoulder takes the brunt of the impact as he fell, but that hardly mattered now. Putting distance between them, the tiefling scrambles back, then faces the man with a snarl.

"Get the fuck away from me!"

The moment those words leave his mouth, he realizes he'll be made to regret it.

Ivan's face holds no trace of that once kind smile. Only cold disappointment.

"Well then," he begins, standing up and dusting off his shirt, as if the Champion pushing him somehow dirtied it, "I had thought you would've liked to have this the easy way but it appears that isn't the case."

His hand traces a sigil in the air, one all too familiar, and for the second time that week, the Champion feels his mind shut off.

The average charm spell is valued for its subtlety. It falls over the mind like a friendly embrace, the warmth of an inn, a pair of rose tinted glasses. Most people won't even recognize the change until the spell lifts, and certain mages could make it so that their victims won't find out at all.

But a dominate spell holds no such features. It does not need to be subtle. It forces itself onto the mind like a muzzle and cage, locking down the conscious so that the body is a pliant little puppet.

So the Champion can't question it, can't fight back, when Ivan orders him to crawl forward. A hand grasps his jaw and the tiefling is incapable of resisting when Ivan leans in and presses into him with a possessive kiss, devoid of the faux affection. A tongue worms into his mouth, and even through the spell he tenses with revulsion, a small whimper escaping.

Ivan purrs into his ear when he withdraws. "Oh I'm definitely going to enjoy you tonight.” He turns away to drag the bench away from the bed before facing him again. “Be a good boy and kneel right here for me, facing the wall. Arms raised."

His body moves on its own, against his will. He takes his place on the mattress as commanded, lifting his arms over his head without a word. He can only wait in terrible silence as Ivan fixes his shackles to the canopy frame. The man then retrieves several cords of silken rope, tying his ankles to the bed posts. Even his tail was restrained to his leg to keep it out of the way.

The spell goes as easily as it came, allowing the Champion’s awareness of his predicament to set in.

Trapped. Vulnerable. Exposed.

Too similar to the position he found himself in mere days ago. The ache in his back grew into a throb until he could practically feel the stone pillar against him and smell his own blood.

"Wait." At this point, Master Scarlet usually wouldn't allow him to beg. The damage had been done and he needed to be taught a lesson. But Master wasn't here and maybe Ivan would show mercy. "Sir please, I'm sorry I re-. . . I disobeyed you. Not the whip again, please, anything but that. I can't-"

A hand on his horn pulls his head back, and he cuts himself off to bite back a pathetic sounding mewl as Ivan licks a wet stripe up the shell of his ear. "You beg quite nicely, little devil. Rest assured, I don't intend on lashing you."

The Champion’s thoughts are caught between distrust and relief. He wants to believe him. He can't begin to imagine how painful it would be for his wounds to be assaulted so soon after. That punishment had been agony, he can't handle it again. Is Ivan telling the truth or only trying to lure him into a false sense of secur-?

Something touches his thigh.

His gaze shoots downward and Ivan is undoing the laces in the silk.

"What are you-?" he begins to say, fear tainting his voice, but the man presses a finger to the tiefling's lips and orders him to be quiet. The undone threads bare more skin from thigh to hip, and soon the pants are tossed aside.

It's when the black cloth is removed, with the red in quick succession before he can protest, that the pieces fall together into a vile puzzle.

No.

The revealing outfit, Master leaving them alone, the charm spell, the lurid stares and honeyed words on his looks, the kiss, the fact that he is now naked as the day he was born with his legs spread.

No. NO!

"Oh did you figure it out?" The damning chuckle accompanying that question took a sinister tone. A harsh squeeze of his ass shocks the denial right out of him.

The Champion jerks away, body trembling in revulsion and terror. "Don't touch me!" But he can't go far, and the bindings hold tight.

Hands latch onto his hips, and Ivan pressed up against him. To the tiefling's dismay, he can feel the man's hardened member against his thigh. "Let's make something clear, little devil. Your master has given me full permission to use you to my desire. So I have full allowance to touch any part of you I want. Understood? So I have a question for you."

He's prepared to ignore it, or say some lie or refusal depending on what the question is. But then Ivan runs his finger up the length of his tail.

"Is it true tiefling tails are quite sensitive?"

An unfamiliar sensation rushes up his spine. His breath hitches in his chest. A strange heat begins to build up within him.

"Judging by that reaction, I'd say my presumption is correct." And Ivan continues his caresses with a heightened vigor.

What is this?

His tail is sensitive, and each stroke is sending jolts of . . .some feeling throughout his body. It makes him shiver and bite down on his bottom lip, the heat in his face darkening his cheeks and ears. It pools in the region between his legs and he tries to close them to no avail. His toes curl. He can't even thrash his tail to dislodge the offending hand, whose fondling is clouding his mind into fuzz. His brain keeps saying this is wrong, invasive; he doesn't like what this sensation is doing to him.

So why does it feel good?

Each time he tries to pull away, some semblance of his body resists him, tries to lean in for more of this pleasurable touch ('No, this is not pleasurable. You're not enjoying this.') He tries to ignore it. Ignore the touch, ignore the hands and chains. Instead he bites his lips until blood drips down his chin, digs his claws into his palms until they bleed, and focuses on the pain.

And it almost works, if the fingers hadn't been replaced by a tongue.

The Champion's vision floods with blurry stars and the sound he makes is some cross between a gasp and a moan. He would feel ashamed and disgusted with himself if his senses weren't being overwhelmed by his tail being licked and nibbled and dear gods one of you please burn that fucking thing out of Ivan's fucking mouth.

"Oh, you like this don't you? That won't do."

He wishes he could tell the bastard to go fuck himself. This was nothing likable. This was wrong and violating. But unfortunately, he was having a hard time convincing his body of that. He refuses to look down and see how else his body is responding to it. He doesn't even hear the second statement over trying to stop himself from whining and panting like a dog in heat.

When the mouth leaves his tail, it's a breath of relief. Until he lets out a pained yowl as it introduces itself to the wounds on his back.

Saliva stings abused flesh and the Champion writhes in agony. Ivan begins with a stripe across the small of his back and works upward, aiming for all twenty-five. Meanwhile his hands resume their torment of the tiefling's tail, assaulting the poor creature's body and mind with a simultaneous barrage of pleasure and pain.

"S-stop, pl-please!"

"But you taste so good, little devil."

He doesn't want to. He doesn't want any of this. But the touch won't stop.

The whip would be preferable to this, and that terrifies him.

Each stinging lick sends him squirming, arching his back desperate to escape. With every movement, the dangling jewels mock him with their chimes. They only entice his assailant on further. Further. A painful stripe running between his shoulder blades. Strokes at the base of his tail that almost make him break. It's maddening.

And then a single digit slips under to edge the rim of his entrance.

NO!

The Champion tosses his head back under a surge of panic, and the tip of his horn catches Ivan right in the face.

The hands release his body with a grunt of pain as the man stumbles back. Looking back over his shoulder, he sees Ivan hold a hand to his bloodied cheek and lets himself bask in the satisfaction. Serves the bastard right, he wishes he gouged out an eye.

But that vindication soon melts away as reality comes to slap him in the face with the enormity of his actions.

He hurt one of Master's guests.

Oh gods, he hurt one of Master's guests.

The dread returns in full, and only grew when Ivan composes himself and levels the tiefling with a knowing look.

“I- I didn’t mean-.”

“Save your breath. We both know that’s a lie.” He pulls a white handkerchief from his pocket to dab at the wound. “Now I am going to go fix this little mess you made, and when I return, it will be with your master."

"Wait!"

Ivan exits the room, ignoring the Champion’s protests.

His gut twists into a knot. If he wasn't chained up like this, he would've crawled into the smallest space he could to hide.

It's been years since the last time he lashed out. The last time he'd bitten a woman's hand for yanking on one of his horns. The punishment he received for that kept him from ever repeating that mistake again. Until now.

Master's going to be furious.

Whatever's going to happen next will be horrible.

It's futile to try and break free, but he tries anyway. He yanks at the chains holding up his arms, tries to wriggle his legs free of the ropes. Hopes that something will give.

Nothing.

The dread takes hold, squeezing at his insides like a snake constricting prey. The fireplace continues to crackle, yet soon there's more sounds filling the Champion’s ears. It takes a moment before he realizes what he's hearing is his own hyperventilating breath and the rattling of chains from how violently he's shaking. Terror takes root and his fear and anger feed it.

He doesn't know how long they keep him waiting. It simultaneously feels like both eternity and a brief moment.

Footsteps echo from the hallway.

The Champion’s never been the religious type.

'Dear gods.'

The door opens.

Maybe now's the time to try.

'Please don't let this happen.'

"Did you think that just because I'm absent from the room means you can ignore the rules, pet?"

Ever since Master Scarlet first captured him, her voice always felt like icicles stabbing into him. Sharp and cold. Even her words of praise held an icy undertone he could sense under the mask she placed over her apathy.

Scoldings felt like getting trapped in a blizzard.

"It was an accident-" A force he cannot see slaps him across the face.

"I don't recall giving you permission to speak."

He snaps his mouth closed, burying the hopeless frustration far down so it wouldn’t show. It was always a gamble with her. Sometimes she would ask the tiefling questions expecting an answer, others were only rhetorical. It was up to him to guess the difference.

"Besides, it doesn't matter if it was an accident or not. You're in no place to strike my guests at all. So you are going to apologize to Ivan, now."

His training egged him to submit. He messed up big time and punishment would be worse if he didn't say he was sorry. But anger clawed up his body like a cornered cat. Why should he have to apologize to the bastard? Ivan stood besides Master, puncture wound nowhere to be found, not even a blemish. That only further boiled his rage. Years have gone by without him managing to lash out, and now that he did, there's nothing to show for it? Ivan's wound is gone without a trace, yet the Champion has scars (from far more painful wounds) that will last the rest of his life.

It's not fair.

Does Master know what Ivan's planning to do? Maybe he should tell her. Perhaps she'll stop Ivan to prevent her pet from getting damaged like-

' "Kill the girl." '

No. She wouldn't care.

She definitely knows already. Ivan no doubt has informed her. She doesn't care. She forced her Champion to kill a little girl, of course she wouldn't have anything against this. She doesn't care.

He forces down the rage. The injustice. Forces it down into the deepest pits of his gut. He can't show it. Getting angry is showing disrespect. Hissing his words is showing disrespect. Giving an apology that doesn't sound genuine is showing disrespect.

He growls with venomous sarcasm, "I'm sorry for hurting your fragile pride, sir."

He's not sure how his grip slipped.

By the way her eyes narrow and fill with disappointment, Master doesn't find it funny. "So easily you forget your lessons. Did we not just have this discussion the night of your recent fight?"

' "He's forgotten that he is first and foremost a slave." '

It doesn't even target him, but the Champion senses her magic take. The shackles above him unhook from the canopy frame and suddenly he's being pulled forward by an unseen force. He falls onto the mattress, arms outstretched, and is helpless as the chains magically meld into the headboard. The position leaves no doubt as to what is meant to transpire.

He won't let himself feel regret. The bastard doesn't deserve it. But the little voice in his head still yells at him. Calls him an idiot for not obeying.

The bed is soft. Far more comfortable than anything he remembers sleeping on in his life. It feels nice against his face. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could lose himself in the rare luxury enough to drown out everything else around him. Like with the bath.

A hand grasps onto his horn and his head is pulled back so he can face his Master standing beside him.

"Let me make this clear, since you're having trouble remembering." Her finger presses into his side and traces a shape. The Champion can't see, but he knows exactly what she's touching. The branded initials of his master’s name seared into his flesh. "What does this mark mean?"

That definitely isn't a rhetorical question. There's an answer that his training won't allow him to forget. "It means I belong to you, Master."

"Good. And given that fact, it should be obvious by now what you are. I own you, pet. You are my slave. You have the title of Champion in the ring because I trained you. You fight for the entertainment of your betters since that's your purpose. To obey your master and entertain however your betters wish you to, whether it be fighting, being a pretty little server, or more private favors. Do you understand?"

His blood runs cold. 'Private favors.' A sugar-coated term for sexual favors.

Did-

Did that mean this would be a regular thing now? Would there be more people than Ivan who would use and violate him? More pain and more punishments if he refused or didn't satisfy? More-

He feels sick.

In his panic, he forgets to answer Master's question. She snaps her fingers. He senses Ivan behind him again but he can't see what-.

A sharp yelp rips from his throat.

Something is pushed inside of him. It's cold and hard and covered in some viscous substance. His body instinctively tenses around the foreign object, that strange heat already beginning to sink in.

"If you continue to defy your purpose, expect to receive this punishment more in the future."

This-.

This heat isn't the same as before with his tail. It lingers in the area it started and intensifies. It festers first into a sting, then a burn.

"Take this, Ivan," Master says as she hands over a flexible metal rod, the correction device she often uses on her pet. Said pet barely notices through the tears filling his eyes. He clutches onto the sheets with a desperate but futile wish for escape.

His insides are on fire.

What the fuck did they put in him?

"Strike him."

The rod cracks across the top of his right thigh, an acute twinge that gets drowned out by the burning spike as he tenses against the fiery intrusion.

It hurts in such an intimate way. He should’ve known; the rod by itself was too easy a punishment.

"First question: what are you?"

The moment he requires to register the question is taken as hesitation, and upon the next strike, the pain only grows worse and worse until it’s an effort to keep his words coherent. “S-stop!"

Smack!

"What are you?"

"Please, I'm sorry!"

Smack!

"Make it stop! Master, please!"

So this must be what the Infernal Hells are like. How ironic that a being of fiendish blood faces his own hell on the mortal plane. Devils did always like to scope out evil, and Master Scarlet had enough of it to last an immortal life. Hellfire would be a measly candle compared to the sear that tears through him.

"What are you?"

He can't even try to turn onto his side, the way his legs are bound won't allow it. The rod strikes an already tender welt and he howls.

"A sl- a slave," he finally chokes out, because this is too much. He'll do whatever Master commands to get this to end.

But the rod falls down on him again and Master repeats her question. So the Champion cries out the horrible word again because that is the right answer, isn't it? It has to be, there's nothing else it could-

Oh.

"I-I'm your sl-slave!"

There's a pause as Master acknowledges the correction, and her frown lifts into a pleased grin. "Again, louder."

Tears streaming down his face, he screams as the agony flares once more. "I'M YOUR SLAVE!" He wants this to end, he can't take it anymore.

Pathetic. Weak.

"Good boy. Second question."

He hates her. There is not a single fiber of his being that doesn't roar with contempt for this woman. He mentally prays to every god he knows to curse her with an excruciating death.

"What is your purpose?"

A far off point of the tiefling's mind hears this and thinks, 'To rid this world of you someday.' It's a wishful thought, wrapped in a fantasy. It barely registers to him through the fire.

"T-to obey a-and entertain!"

Smack!

All he can focus on right now is the pain and doing what his master wants.

"Say it the right way, pet."

"I'M TO OBEY AND ENTERTAIN!"

His face hits the mattress, and it takes several seconds of heavy, uninterrupted breathing and no more strikes of the rod for him to realize Master finally released him. It's over. His breath is short and ragged, throat full of cotton. He tastes salt and iron from his tears and ruined lip. His wrists probably don't look very good either from how much he tugged on the chains. He doesn't want to know what his ass and thighs look like right now. The rod doesn’t usually draw blood, but there’ll definitely be some nasty marks that’ll swell.

Another sudden touch startles him, and he doesn’t have the energy to stifle the whimpers as that awful whatever-it-was is pulled out of him. He nearly cries again in sheer relief as that burning presence fades.

"You have thirty more minutes, Ivan."

That picture of relief is shattered. Ivan is still here. Ivan still hasn’t finished with him. This isn’t over yet, they aren’t done hurting him yet. This man is still going to rape him.

"Oh that should be plenty of time," the man replies, unfazed by the tiefling's broken wail.

"I would hope you have some form of covering, or else that cream will give you a bad night as well."

"Worry not, I've come prepared."

"Good. Have him repeat his rule until he no longer hesitates. Let me know how he performs."

With that final damning note, Master Scarlet made her departure. And Ivan turned to the battered and crying slave before him, cruely brushing his thumb over a welt before unbuttoning his pants. "Well, little devil, it's just you and me. I'm still waiting for that apology."

The Champion buries his sobs into the bedsheets.

----

They chained him up and muzzled him for his second bath.

He didn't want any more hands on him. No more touch.

But since when did the Champion’s desires matter?

The water could wash away tears, blood, and other bodily fluids. It could not wash away bruises and bite marks that were definitely going to scar. Soreness and pain where it shouldn’t be. Nor could it stop making him feel sick, wrong, filthy, disgusting, weak.

He's back in his cell, lying on his palette curled up in a tight ball. Not a scrap of clothing adorns him, only the dainty little jewels that, with his hands bound behind his back, he isn't able to rip off.

He isn't able to rip at his skin either. To tear away soiled flesh and let blood chase away the phantoms that wouldn't cease their tormenting caress.

Master had stopped by minutes ago to tell him the news. She would be hosting a dinner party in a couple nights, and he would be present.

She informed him of its purpose.

The events of tonight weren't going to be a one-time occurrence.

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