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formulanando · 4 months

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Say Yes to Me | Fernando Alonso x Reader

part 2 to boy it's you i desire

fem!reader x dbf! fernando

word count: 2.4k

minors dni!

taglist: @scarlettmurphy @nizem8 @sarahedwards16 @ashf1 @all--that--jazz @rhey-007 @spanishgp @savrose129 @roostersluvvr (sorry if i missed you!)

warnings: age gap, swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbating, and a pinch of smut

Fernando had gently taken you by the arm once more, and led you to the pool, which was a mere few meters from where you had been. He pulled you closer to him, and almost as a reflex, you put your hands on his chest. Your back was to the pool, while his face was tantalizingly close to yours. You looked up at him slightly, as he was not much taller than you. He had an absolutely stunning, devious grin on his face. He pulled back, your hands falling away. Part of you wondered why he moved so quickly. Did you misinterpret his glances that you pretended not to see? Was he just playing with you? You were at an irritating loss. You were not even able to tell if there was thick, sexual tension, or if you just really, really wanted there to be. You were biding your time.

Before you could say something to him, or even take another breath, he pushed you into the deepest end of the large pool. You were unable to even react fast enough to grab him, or something to keep yourself from getting soaked.

“‘Nando! What the hell was that?” You sputtered, slowly swimming over the pool’s ledge. You pushed your hair away from your face, slightly irritated that you were going to have to wash your hair again later that evening.

The only thing that could fix that was having someone in the shower to do it for you… Thinking about him in the steam, carefully rubbing your body with your favorite shower gel would drive you over the edge in every way. Him standing before you, slowly sliding his hands down your sides, while you tangled your fingers in his hair. Holy fuck, his hair. You had no issue thinking that when you were left to wash the dishes, or reading before you went to bed, but not when Fernando was this close to you. Even worse, you knew he would see your lips upturn into an accidental smile, and ask what you were thinking about. You could always be honest. But, the “I was thinking about you fucking me in my shower!” route was a little too bold for you.

“I did nothing. What are you talking about?” He laughed, and said your name while shaking his head. He lowered himself to a crouch once more, then rested his hands on the pool’s ledge, examining the flowers that your mother had planted on the other side of the garden. As the world had learned, he was a flower padre, and he distracted himself at the worst time. Turning his head away from you was a mistake. You grabbed his wrists, effectively yanking him into the pool with you.

“Ay, cariño, it is one thing when I do it to you!” You quickly swam away, daring him to swim after you. He did exactly that. You messily swam a few zig-zags around the pool, before you were able to make your escape. You knew you were not going to be able to stay away from him for long. He was so fit, even if he was practically a fossil. You darted across the grass, drops of chlorinated water flying off your skin. You could hear Fernando’s footsteps closing in. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that signature, self-assured grin growing as he shortened the gap to you.

As embarrassing as it was, your heart was pounding in your chest. In a last ditch attempt to stay away from Fernando, you bolted behind an older, wide tree in the corner of the yard. Your tall fence was just behind you, with a few scattered plants to the side of you. Mulch crunched under your feet as you began to slow your pace, knowing you had nowhere else to turn. He went to grab your shoulder, but managed to grab the one tie of your bikini top, causing it to come undone on one side. You quickly caught it, vaguely embarrassed about the situation the two of you were in. There you were, practically cupping your tit in front of one of the hottest men you had ever met. You only faced him, as you needed to scoot past him in order to properly fix your bikini. Apologies began to spill from Fernando’s lips, wanting to try and remedy the compromising position. He had wanted to rip that bikini top from your gorgeous frame, but this was an honest accident.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. A frustrated sigh fell past your lips. It was absolutely impossible to tie the strap with the cruel combination of pruney fingers, and wet hair continually dripping down your neck, onto your shoulder. You let your hands fall to your side, forgoing the strap for a moment. You did not need to deal with angry tears on top of being fucking mortified. You roughly ran your hands down your face, preparing to try again.

“Let me help,” Fernando walked over, and was standing within a meter of you. He was easily able to tell that you were struggling, since you had not moved or really said anything in a few minutes. He figured he could at least end the awkward silence that fell over the entire yard.

“No, Fernando. I promise, it’s fine.” It wasn’t that you were upset with him, you wanted him to touch your shoulder. You just were not in the mood for having another stupid interaction to fantasize over. One that meant everything to you, and definitely meant nothing to him.

“I caused this, and you will let me fix it. Come here.” His tone became stern, and it was not something you expected. You decided to mess with him. He was leaving tomorrow, and if your stunt missed the mark, you had no idea when you were going to see him next. You closed the gap to him enough so he could reach the strap, but not enough to be called into question. You calmly swallowed, preparing for your little, albeit insane, plan.

“Well, since you want to help, why not do some more work?” You stared into his eyes. Letting your hand drop from where it was supporting your top, you moved both of your hands to untie the other strap. You figured it was now or never. The bikini top fell from your body, leaving your chest entirely bare. The only clothing covering you now were the equally small, matching bikini bottoms. The look in your eyes playfully dared him to do whatever, make his mark.

For a brief moment, Fernando’s eyes were full of shock. You were unable to tell if you had overstepped, and you fully prepared to fix your swimsuit, then retreat into the depths of the house until he left. While you were still momentarily swimming in panic, Fernando was suddenly within mere centimeters of you. Looking into his eyes, you slowly closed the gap to him. The way you felt during that kiss alone called into question why you had not sought Fernando out sooner. Fucking hell, you were addicted after twenty seconds.

You woke up in your house’s guest bedroom the next morning, the sun was barely beginning to rise, as it was just peeking above the horizon. The dim light was just shining through the blinds, casting small rays across Fernando’s face. You saw a few of your things strewn about the room, intermingling with Fernando’s belongings he had brought for the week. It made you picture a beautiful life with him, if only you were not almost twenty years his junior. Or if there was not an even more glaring elephant in the room: him being a man you call tío. The idea was tantalizing. Sharing a home, having a Christmas tree, little feet running around. You brought yourself back to the present, realizing you will only enjoy him like this once.

You and Fernando’s naked bodies were intertwined, the sheets wrapped around you. You were curled into him, and your head was lying close to his chest. You could hear his quiet breaths over the eerie silence of your family’s home. As you shifted your weight, preparing to begin the day, Fernando groaned. He placed his hand on your back, rubbing your shoulder blades, then tracing your spine with his finger. You smiled, trying not to shiver. He was trying to press you closer to him, if that was even physically possible. Heat radiated off his smooth skin, making it difficult to want to leave his intense embrace.

“Cariño, stop moving. We have the house to ourselves. And, I want to feel that mouth of yours again.” His voice was soft, as everyone’s is when they first wake up. He was smiling as he talked, evidently feeling very pleased with himself.

“Shut up.” You laughed in response, swatting at him. You would indulge him at some point, of course. You needed to enjoy every inch of him while it lasted.

You were the most beautiful woman Fernando had ever seen. He had never been more glad to see your parents and brothers disappear in the middle of the week. Your moans echoed in his ears. He pictured the pleasure in your eyes when he devoured you like a man starved. The large, raised scratches in his back cemented how good he made you feel. He is a selfish man, as most racing drivers are. The next time you fucked one of your little boyfriends he wanted you to be thinking of how he got you to unravel so easily. On his fingers, in his mouth, everywhere. His name spilt from your mouth, like a prayer before death.

His fingers, and his mouth were more than enough. They were too much. His tongue would ghost over your pussy and clit, his breath fanning across where you needed him most. His cock was unfathomable. Not unrealistic, but thick and long enough where you felt instantly full of him. He took you on your kitchen island first. You were both still wet from the pool, leaving a trail of water throughout the kitchen. You two kissed with fucking ferocity, stumbling through your large home, neither of you wanting to lose the other for a millisecond. You had an all-encompassing, carnal need for him. Aftering inhaling his cologne, while feeling his lips begin to trail down your neck, it was game over. There was no way to explain this, write it off as a childhood crush. No one fucks their father’s closest friend on a kitchen island because of a crush from the days of roll-on lipgloss and temporary tattoos.

From the second your lips brushed, you knew there would be no need to fake an orgasm, and play pretend. Bowls clattered as you hastily climbed on the countertop. You swear you had soaked through your bikini bottom before he had even laid a finger on your body. Following your stunt in the backyard, you felt zero need to re-tie your bikini top. Your small bottoms ended up on the tile soon enough, with Fernando’s wet clothes following in quick succession. Every movement was rushed, sloppy, messy. Hips slapping, and moans bouncing through the rooms of your parent’s home. Every fantasy you created while you touched yourself paled in comparison. The sex had you at a loss for words. He was the only man you could imagine laying naked with on your kitchen island, languidly making out with following multiple orgasms.

In the early morning, the dim sunlight fell on him so beautifully, glinting off of the newfound gray that intermingled with his brown hair. Still locked in his embrace, you ran your fingers through his hair. He had let it get longer than he had in the past, and you prayed he stayed away from a pair of scissors. You suddenly pulled at his hair, eliciting a groan from Fernando.

“Don’t tease, amor. I hate that in my old age.” You turned once more, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, smiling into it. You finally peeled the sheets from your body, and got up.

Even though the Spanish sun was hot, and the Spanish man next to you was even hotter, the tile beneath your feet was perfectly cool. You walked around the room, gathering your toothbrush, clothing, and other small items you scattered in the room the previous evening. You put everything in a pile on the dresser. Fernando’s suitcase laid in front of you, and you decided to dig through it for a shirt to wear that day. You decided on one of his Aston Martin team shirts, nothing incredibly fancy. You pulled it over your naked frame, and grabbed your things from where they briefly rested. It was not too big on you, so it covered a little bit of your ass at the very least. You were going to quickly go to your room to get dressed. You knew putting makeup on was out of the question, as it would probably be smeared from your face soon enough.

As you moved toward the door, Fernando called for you to come back. You told him what you were doing, and you were met with a brief protest that you laughed off. You would return to him quickly, and your fresh clothes would end up in a rumpled ball on the floor. You came back to the room less than ten minutes later, a cloud of your perfume trailing in your wake. You were still wearing his shirt, obviously, but with shorts and a bra on. Like a normal person who had not spent the last eighteen hours fucking their dad’s closest friend!

You climbed into the bed, crawling to where the most handsome man you had ever met lay, oblivious to any other noises. You sat on his lap, and straddled him.

“So where did we leave off, papí?” You smiled up at him, knowing how much he loved hearing you call him that. His facial expression changed, a devious grin taking over his face. You knew you were in for a literally wild ride.

Before you moved another centimeter, you happened to hear the front door of your house open, the entryway filling with your parents’ and brothers’ voices.

—

author's note: i am eternally sorry for how long this took me! college burnt me out from writing, and my first semester was an emotional rollercoaster. thank you so, so, so much for reading! i will proofread this more closely in the next few days, but i hope it was worth the wait! please shoot me any feedback you have, or if there's something you think i should write next. xoxo

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #aston martin f1 #f1 #dbf!#aston martin #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso fic #aston martin formula one

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c-nstantine · 3 months

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Paranoid

Description: Based on the Ty Dolla Sign song. Dick sees both Y/N and Barbara Gordon in the club and Jason is no help.

Warnings: Cursing, Infidelity,

Word Count: 0.8k

Bonding, he had called it. Dick thought it would be a good idea for him and Jason to go out for drinks like somewhat normal, non-estranged siblings. Jason only agreed because Dick said that he'd pay for everything and unlike Gotham, cheap liquor was hard to come by in Bludhaven.

Dick was flirting with the bartender as she prepared two beers for the brothers. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw her. He saw a flash of ginger hair. There was nothing to be worried about, he thought to himself. There were plenty of gingers in Bludhaven but it wasn't until he got a glimpse of her face that he realized who it was.

Flashing a smile at the bartender, Dick grabbed the beers before making his way to Jason. He stopped in his tracks when he smelt a familiar fragrance. One he recalled buying for his and Y/N's anniversary. Dick had never been more grateful for dark clubs because Y/N walked right passed her boyfriend and didn't even blink an eye.

"We gotta go, like right now," Dick said while forcing the beer into Jason's hand before chugging his own.

"Huh?" Jason was confused. Dick begged for this outing and now he was in a rush to leave for no apparent reason.

"Y/N's here," Dick explained partially. He grabbed his jacket and began to put it on. From where the two were sat, Dick had a clear advantage of the club. Y/N was in the DJ booth dancing to a song he'd never heard while Babs was sitting near the bar.

"So? Invite her over," Jason would never turn down the opportunity to see Y/N. She was so perfect in his eyes.

"I can't. Babs is also here," Dick damn near whispered as if that would summon one of them. The elder brother ran a hand through his hair before wiping the excess sweat onto his pants.

"Damn, if you get caught, can I date Y/N?"Sure, Dick was his brother, but Jason had priorities. If he'd only been a little quicker the night they met, Jason could've saved Y/N from this potential heartbreak.

"What?" Dick was baffled by this thought.

"I had a crush on her but you asked her out and we were just starting to repair our relationship so it didn't make sense to ruin it because of her," Jason explained while still slowly sipping his beer. He figured that he would take his sweet time because Dick was an asshole. Toying with Barbara was one thing but bringing Y/N into it was a step too far.

"You've had a crush on my girlfriend this entire time?" Dick's tone was accusatory as if he didn't just admit to cheating on his girlfriend.

"Well, I mean- You've had two girlfriends this entire time," Jason pointed out before grabbing his jacket. Dick peered out over the dancefloor one more time before determining the best route for escaping. The two brothers bumped through a sea of people. They were almost there just a few more feet and Dick would've been completely safe.

"Dick?" Y/N said as she approached the brothers. Now, Dick could've kept walking and pretended it wasn't him, but Jason had more devious plans in mind.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you," Jason spoke before pulling Y/N into a hug. He spun her around and made direct eye contact with Dick who was motioning a prayer a sign, a silent plead.

"Oh, wait is this the bonding thing you were talking about?" Y/N questioned before flicking back one of her goddess braids and pulling down her short mini dress that had ridden up when Jason spun her around. Jason stood quietly as he took in her beauty.

"Yup," Dick said stiffly. He felt exposed and he wasn't even home yet. His palms were sweatier than before and he was sure his face was flushed.

"Jason, it's so nice that you do this weekly. Dick told me how much it means to you to salvage your relationship," Y/N said with a smile, almost as if she was proud of her boyfriend.

"Did he?" Jason cut his eye to Dick who was staring at the floor.

"Jason? Dick? I didn't expect to see both of you. I thought you couldn't make it?" The red-headed woman's last question was directed mostly towards Dick. Richard Grayson thought that the floor looked most interesting and not the scene that was about to unfold.

"Couldn't make what?" Y/N asked. Her eyes flickered between Babs and Dick. Y/N knew of Babs but from her understanding, Dick and her were just friends.

"Well, I and Dick have a date every week about this time. I'm sorry who are you?" Barbara asked. She wasn't trying to be mean but her tone indicated otherwise.

"Fuck you, Richard," Y/N said throwing a drink in his face before stumbling towards the exit. She didn't know if it was the alcohol she had consumed or the tears forming in her eyes but she needed to get away from here.

"Y/N, let me make sure you get home okay. It's late and you've been drinking," Jason said while lightly placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Jason. You're so sweet," She said while wrapping her arms around him. At least, one person got what they wanted tonight.

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x black!reader #dick grayson x black!reader

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cozage · 2 months

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The Moss that Grew in Gloom

Chapter 3: Training and Teaching

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

A/N: After a LONG LONG time...I've finally updated this. I'm so sorry it has been so long. Thank you everyone for your patience :) ily all, I WILL be updating this more frequently! Summary: As the daughter of the best swordsman in the world, your life has been a lonely one. You've never minded the quiet life, until a mossy-haired swordsman falls to your island and shakes things up. Word Count: 3.5k Characters: female reader x Zoro --

The next morning, you rose early. You checked over Nikko, making sure all of the teeth on its flat were still in perfect condition. The last thing you needed was your father scolding you for not treating your blade properly.

You bounded down the steps for breakfast, and when you saw your father sitting at the dining table, you held out your blade so that the tip pointed at him.

“You ready old man?” You had a devious look dancing in your playful eyes, and your father's lips tugged upwards at the corners.

“Eat first, and then we’ll get started.”

You grabbed some toast and eggs and sat across from him, doing your best not to eat too quickly.

Your father watched you carefully while you ate, waiting for the right moment. “What happened between you and Roronoa yesterday?” he finally asked.

You shrugged, shoveling eggs into your mouth. You swallowed before you spoke, knowing how much he hated when you spoke with your mouth full.

“He said he wasn’t coming back until he figured it out.”

Your father turned to look out the window, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I see.”

“Why?” You took a bite of toast, looking between him and the window.

“It seems he kept his word.”

You tried not to choke on your food. “He didn’t come back?”

“It doesn’t look that way.”

Your eyes gazed out the window for a moment, wondering what fate he met last night. “Good riddance,” you said with a mouthful of bread. Served him right to spend a night in the cold.

Your father shot you a look, though you weren’t sure if it was because of your response or the food in your mouth. You took a long swig of water to wash your meal down, and then stood.

“Let’s go.”

Your father scowled at your eagerness. “You should wait thirty-”

“You scared?” you taunted back.

Your father rolled his eyes at your words. Taunts never worked with him, but it was still fun to see his expression. He rose, following your lead. “I will not be merciful if you get a cramp during our match.”

“Good!” you shouted back to him, bounding out the door. “I would be offended if you did!”

You walked out to the clearing you and your father had created years ago, when you both first came to this island. It had served as your training grounds then, and served as an occasional sparring match between you two now.

“You sure you don’t want to warm up first?” Your father asked. But he knew your answer already, and he pulled Yoru off his back.

You grinned at his blade and unsheathed Nikko. It was small and slender, especially compared to your father’s blade. Most people would probably assume Nikko would shatter in a fight against such a strong blade. But most people didn’t know what you were capable of.

You sent out a flurry of air slashes, trying to corner your father into taking a specific route to you. But of course, as the greatest swordsman in the world, he could see right through that movement. He countered them, sending flurries of air strikes back your way. He moved closely behind them, trying to close the distance between you two.

But his speciality was short range, and you jumped back to keep your distance. You knew you could only get in close enough one time to strike before Yoru would take you out, and you maintained the distance between you two, no matter how you had to maneuver.

The two of you sparred like that for thirty minutes, a constant equal battle with neither party willing to give an inch. You knew your haki would run out before his, but you still had plenty reserved to keep fighting. If you could just make one move he’s not anticipating, you could get in close and maybe actually scare him. You deflected his blows while working to create your own opening, trying to find an opportunity to take advantage of.

Finally you saw it: a path that-if you get through at just the right angle-you could get in close. You jumped at the opportunity, sacrificing a few scratches on your arm and across your cheek to make it there. You got in close and jabbed at your father, aiming to kill him. If only Zoro was here to see how quickly you were able to get to the greatest swordsman in the world, he would never question you again.

You could see the flash of surprise in your fathers eyes at your sudden approach, which quickly melted into the familiar gaze of disappointment. You’ve missed something vital, but there’s no time to stop yourself. He swiftly dodged your jab, and then used his free hand to grab your arm. He twisted it, forcing you to drop Nikko as you cried out in pain from the sudden motion.

Your sword clanged to the ground, your hand still stuck in your father’s grasp. You tried to pull away from him, but he held tightly.

“Let’s go again,” you huffed out, wincing from the pain in your arm.

“No more sparring today.” Your father’s voice was firm and final.

“We just started!”

“And you’re already distracted.”

The opening had been a decoy. You should’ve known that your father wouldn’t have given you an opening so quickly. You had been hopeful that he had made a rusty mistake. But Dracule Mihawk didn’t make mistakes.

He dropped your hand and placed Yoru on his back, turning to return to the castle. “Go find Roronoa,” he said simply. “That seems to be weighing heavily on your mind.”

You had barely broken a sweat from your sparring, and you were irritated it was over so quickly. But you knew your father, and you knew he wouldn’t budge on the matter. You sheathed your sword and scanned the forest, trying to decide the best course of action. You didn’t want to be the solo search party for a man who could get lost in a hallway, but you had to admit you were a little worried about him for that exact reason. Your best bet would be to return to where you last left him and track him from there.

You wandered into the forest, heading for your old meditation spot. You could feel the presence of several baboons standing just out of your vision, watching you. They had no hostile intentions, which was unfortunate. You were itching for a good fight, but you guessed the baboons knew that, which is why they left you alone.

You made it to the ruins quickly, but of course luck was not on your side. You jumped to the highest point on a nearby building and scanned the area, looking for moss green amongst the rubble, but there was no sign of Zoro.

You cupped your hands around your mouth and took a deep breath. “Zoro!” you screamed out as loud as you could. “Where are you?!”

Only a flock of birds reacted, scared by the sound of your voice. You groaned and dropped back down to the ground and walked over to where you last remembered him standing.

Your father had taught you how to track, both on the sea and on land. You had thought it was useless back then, but now you were thankful for his teaching. You could see Zoro’s boot prints walking away, soft points in the soil that had been disturbed by his presence. It seemed he walked away calmly. At least there weren’t any baboons that had attacked him here.

You followed his trail to the edge of the forest, where it became quickly obvious where he had gone. Vines and leaves were sliced, branches cut with the smooth edge of a sword…Zoro wasn’t exactly subtle when he walked through the woods. At least it made your job easier.

You found him lying in a field, staring up at the sky. You hurried over to him, thinking the worst may have happened to him. But his eyes were open, and he looked deep in concentration. You saw his eyebrow twitch when you stepped on a twig, but he simply mumbled something to himself and kept his eyes on the dark clouds above him.

“Zoro?” you whispered, approaching him slowly.

He groaned, sitting up and turning to face you. His face was full of shame. “I can’t get it,” he said.

“Huh?”

“The haki thing,” he said. “I can’t make it work yet.”

“That’s okay,” you said, sitting in front of him. You reached for his hand, but he yanked his hand away from your reach.

He scowled at you. “I didn’t progress. I shouldn’t be rewarded for failure.”

“Shut up,” you said. “I’m not going to give you a massage.”

You held your hands out, your palms facing him. “Copy my movements.”

He raised an eyebrow, but rested his palms against yours without any further grumbling. You closed your eyes, and he closed his as well. You took a deep, even breath, and a moment later you heard Zoro do the same. A soft breeze blew through your hair, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Can you feel the places where your body is touching the ground?” you asked.

“Of course I can.” Zoro was questioning your motives, but you could tell he was trying to understand.

“You can’t force haki,” you explained, ignoring his attitude. “It’s a part of you. An extension of oneself. In order to allow haki to flow through you, you have to allow yourself to be willing to flow.”

“Myself willing to flow?” he asked. You could hear the confusion in his voice.

You tried to explain it in another way. “Like your blood flowing through your body, imagine that tingling sensation of haki flowing the same way. From your heart to your fingertips.”

You sat there quietly for a few moments, and you could feel his fingertips start to tense again.

“Zoro,” you chided. “Relax.”

You pushed your hands against his, and you felt his muscles lock into place and tighten against your touch. You sighed, pulling your hands away from him and opening your eyes.

“I’m trying!” he said, exasperated. “You keep distracting me!”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“I know!” He opened his eyes, meeting yours for a moment before darting away. “You’re still distracting though!”

You thought you could see a hint of pink appear across his cheeks, but you weren’t sure why he was embarrassed.

“Everyone struggles with haki at first,” you explained, trying to ease his embarrassment. “You have to rethink how you act and react. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed. I’m just frustrated.”

“Let’s try something different,” you offered. You placed your hands on your knees, nodding at Zoro to do the same. He followed suit, and you closed your eyes, hoping he continued following along. “You know that feeling you get in your muscles when I massage them at night?”

“Why are you bringing that up now?!?” You could hear the fluster in his voice, and you stifled back a giggle.

“I just mean how relaxed your arms feel, how that relaxation flows from your shoulder and down your arm into your wrist, and then into your fingertips. That feeling?”

“Oh,” Zoro said. “Yeah, that feeling.”

“And the tingling sensation you got right before you dodged my attacks yesterday?”

“Right.”

“Do you think you can combine them?” you asked, eyes still closed.

“Combine them?”

You hummed. You didn’t want to give him too much direction, or else he wouldn’t be able to make the feeling his own.

He was silent for a while, and you sat in silence with him. You could feel him tense, and then force himself to relax again and again as he struggled to find the correct middle of flow and concentration.

You opened your eyes, watching him focus without commentary or judgment. It’s how your father had done it with you, the two of you sitting amongst rubble a few years ago as you struggled to find the correct balance. Now you were the teacher, trying to remember all of the things your father had taught you so long ago.

You sat there unmoving for several hours, waiting for Zoro to succeed or give up for the day, when finally you saw a small patch of metallic substance coat his hand. You held in the urge to scream out praise, not wanting to break his concentration.

Zoro must’ve sensed that he did something right, because his eyes snapped open, staring at his hand in awe.

“Keep going,” you whispered to him.

His eyes glanced up at you, startled at your presence. But he didn’t lose his haki focus, and you nodded in encouragement, wanting him to continue further. You both watched as he expanded and extended the haki up to his elbow.

Your eyes widened, and a smile spread across your face and you watched him. He was able to hold the armament for about a minute before he lost it, too exhausted to keep up that level of haki emittance.

“That was amazing!” you said, springing forward and grabbing him in a hug.

“Hey-I-” Zoro stiffened, lost for words. “It’s not a big deal, get off!”

You pulled away from the embrace still grinning. “It took me like a week to perfect at that level!”

“It’s not perfect,” Zoro said, and you laughed at him.

“Stop criticizing yourself! Just celebrate your victory! We have plenty of time to keep training.”

He looked at you, his face full of shock and questions. You were starting to realize that Zoro spent a majority of his life in some state of confusion.

“What?” you asked.

“I just don’t feel like I can celebrate until I’m the best,” he said.

“That’s stupid,” you said simply. “You’re allowed to celebrate more than just your life goal. And this is worthy of celebration.”

He looked at his hands. “How do I push the haki into the blades?”

Your smile started to fade. You were finally coming to terms with the fact that Roronoa Zoro wasn’t the kind of man to take breaks, even when he needed them.

“I’m not telling you,” you said, frowning at him.

He gritted his teeth. “I need to keep moving forward. Luffy-”

“Will see you in two years,” you finished. “You aren’t going to get anywhere if you don’t stop to comprehend what you’re doing. Or recover from your exhaustion.”

A part of you couldn’t blame him for being so eager. You had been that way when you first learned haki too. Your father had to carry you back home every night while you practiced perfecting and strengthening the method.

“Listen,” you said. “Tomorrow we’ll start working on strengthening your haki. It’s a lot like strengthening muscles, which you are clearly not a stranger to.” Your eyes couldn’t help gazing down at his shirtless chest and toned arms.

“Today, let’s celebrate,” you continued. Your eyes flicked back up to his, hoping to persuade him to take a break. You could see that his cheeks were flushed, and you could feel heat rush into your own face in response.

“How are we celebrating?” He asked. He sounded nervous, which was strange to you.

“You like wine right?” You could see his eyes light up at the mention of alcohol. “I have an idea. I’ll come get you after the others go to sleep.”

“That sounds like a long time to wait for a celebration,” he grumbled.

You jumped to your feet, and he rose to his. You all walked quietly back to the castle, not saying anything. You could tell that Zoro was proud of himself for learning how to use armament haki. He didn’t say anything or hold himself any different, but he kept gazing down at his hand, flexing it and smirking at the thought of success.

You all were almost to the door of your home before either of you spoke.

Zoro cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he choked out. “You really helped me out today.”

You smiled and shrugged. A strange warmth blossomed in your chest, but you ignored it. “You would’ve gotten it on your own eventually,” you said.

He laughed dryly. “I’m not sure I would’ve,” he admitted.

“You’re right,” you agreed, and he shot you a baffled look. “You’re pretty stubborn,” you teased, smirking up at him.

“Oh, shut up,” he rolled his eyes, and you busted out laughing as you opened the door.

“You’re late,” your father scolded from the dining room.

“Sorry, sorry!” you said, still smiling as you walked in the door and to the set table.

Mihawk’s eyes darted from you to Zoro and back to you again, but he said nothing more about your delayed arrival. The four of you ate dinner in silence like usual, until Perona spoke up.

“So, Zoro, where have you been exactly?” Perona asked. “You’ve been missing for 24 hours!”

Zoro’s eye twitched. “I got lost.”

You bit your lip to prevent a laugh from escaping, but you couldn’t hide the smile forming on your lips in its place.

“What’s so funny, Y/N?!?” Perona demanded. “I was really worried about him! Our room was lonely last night!”

You’re not sure why, but your mouth falls open from her comment, a pit slowly forming in your stomach. You hadn’t taken much interest in Zoro’s or Perona’s sleeping arrangements, but you were shocked to find they were sleeping in the same room. There were so many empty rooms in this castle, and yet they were sharing a room. It didn’t sit right with you, though you weren’t sure why.

“Yeah,” Zoro commented. “I enjoyed the peace and quiet.”

“You were outside!” Perona screeched.

“Better than your never ending rambling!” Zoro snapped back, a vein popping out on his forehead.

Perona gasped. She slammed her hands down on the table and rose, storming away and up the stairs.

“Might want to reconcile with your girlfriend,” you mumbled.

You weren’t sure why you added such a formal title to their relationship. All signs had pointed to Zoro and Perona being enemies, not lovers, but perhaps you had misread the situation.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” he yelled, and you glared at him for using such a tone. He noticed your glare, and lowered his voice slightly. “She’s just some pest who won’t leave me alone.”

“The girl does seem very codependent,” your father added, agreeing with Zoro.

“I don’t even know her,” Zoro grumbled. “I met her like…three days before we got here.”

Your heart lightened at the new information that had been given to you. You were relieved to know that Zoro found Perona as annoying as you did. At least you weren’t alone in that feeling.

“If you are not happy with your current accommodations, you are welcome to pick any available room on the third story,” your father stated.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro nodded.

“If you can find the third story,” you said, giving him a teasing grin.

“I’ll take you to collect your things and choose a room now, if you’re done with dinner,” your father said, ignoring your comment.

“That’d be great,” Zoro said. “The sooner I get out of there the better.”

The two men went off to change Zoro’s room, and you took the opportunity to steal away to the wine cellar. You grabbed two bottles of wine and two glasses, and then scurried back to your room.

You leisurely read in your room, listening to the scuffling of furniture above you. After about an hour, a knock came from your door. It was your father’s knock, a secret code you all had made up years ago.

“Come in.”

The door cracked open, and your father’s face peeked in. “Roronoa is moved into his new room.”

You smiled. “Thanks for letting me know.”

He stared at you for a moment, as if he were debating adding more to the topic. Whatever he was considering saying was never said, because he changed the subject. “I’m heading to bed now.”

“It’s way past your bedtime,” you scolded, looking at the clock.

You saw a faint smirk appear across your father’s face, but he began to shut the door without saying any more.

“Dad, wait,” you called with a slight urgency in your voice. The door reopened swiftly at the sound of your voice, and your father’s eyes reappeared.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I was distracted today,” you said, casting your eyes downward in shame. “You gave me a good opportunity to train and I screwed it up.”

“We all have off days,” he said. “Tomorrow is a new opportunity. Just don’t get distracted.”

You nodded and gave him another smile. “Goodnight, dad.”

“Goodnight.” He disappeared behind the door and shut it with a soft click.

You smiled softly to yourself. Tonight, you would celebrate with Zoro. Tomorrow was a new day.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece fic #one piece x you #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #cozage #TMTGIG #✧˚zoro✧˚

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scaranation · 1 year

Text

༊*·˚ 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

Pairing: Alhaitham x GN!reader

Content: Modern AU, childhood friends, mildly suggestive

In which you reunite with Alhaitham, the nerdy scruffy kid you’d used to tease in middle school - except now, he is neither awkward, nor quite as small as he used to be.

“Are you coming to the reunion?” Your friend’s voice over the phone was excited, almost imploring.

“I’m not sure, should I?” You were sprawled across your bed languidly, phone tucked into your shoulder and laptop balanced precariously over your knees.

“Yes, please! I heard even Alhaitham’s coming to this one!”

“… Alhaitham?” You paused your typing for a moment to readjust your position.

“You two were assigned seats next to each other throughout middle school, weren’t you? I remember you always complained about it.”

“Oh, yes.”

“You should really come and see him. I’ve heard he’s now a prolific researcher. And Nilou finally got into the dance academy she wanted as well - oh, just turn up! It’ll be fun to meet our class again.”

“Ah, I’ll make an effort to come.” You replied, hanging up, although your mind was elsewhere. Alhaitham… That was a name you hadn’t heard in a long time.

You’d been distraught when you were forcibly separated from your friends by the woes of a middle school seating arrangement. Even more so when you realised that your desk partner was none other than Alhaitham, the hilariously awkward nerd who seemed to be physically attached to a book at all times. He was a scrawny kid - shorter than you at the time, hence the fond memories you had making fun of his height and mockingly peering down at him.

Coincidentally, the two of you had been forced to sit together for many classes over the next few years - leading to a casual sort of friendship. Or, that’s what you saw it as. You loved to tease Alhaitham, watching in glee as his neck and ears turned red. Looking back, he probably despised you now - you were quite mean back to him back then, taking advantage of the fact that he had a crush on you. Occasionally, the two of you would hang out outside of school, and although there was no dismissing how difficult it was to hold conversation with the boy, you grew to become fond of those times. Fond, to a certain extent.

Perhaps it was your own denial, but you preferred to remember it that way - merely sentimental fondness for pleasant times between friends.

In high school, you had decided to pursue humanities, whilst Alhaitham had gone down a different route. And so, the two of you inevitably grew apart, with you never rarely ever seeing him again. You were simply too busy - following your devious shenanigans in middle school, you’d decided to turn over a new leaf and engross yourself in academics to compensate for your former rowdiness.

On the day of the reunion, you were late. At least twenty minutes late, for sure - and that was if you could even get your car started. Drowning in student loans, you’d only managed to buy a third hand car that barely clung to life, and you were now suffering the consequences of its senile engine.

“Fuck!” After turning your key in the ignition again in exasperation, you got out of the vehicle in defeat, slamming the door shut and resorting to calling a taxi.

Fuming, you left your apartment block and waited out on the street, a frown fixed across your face. That frown was only further perpetuated when the most obnoxiously high end vehicle swerved, wheels skidding through a puddle and spraying you in filthy city water.

Almost too stunned to move, you glared into the heavily tinted car windows as the vehicle slowed to a stop by the curb. The driver’s side door opened, and a man stepped out.

Broad shoulders, ridiculously tall, muscular build and a tight fitting dress shirt… You craned your neck upwards, and almost recoiled.

“Alhaitham?!” You stumbled back.

“So you’re done staring at my pecs?” The former victim of your relentless bullying bent down mockingly to be eye to eye with you, a smirk decorating his face.

“They were right at eye level! Fuck, it’s not my fault you got tall.” You recovered from the shock quickly, remembering that you were furious at the man once again.

Alhaitham had definitely changed. His jawline was stronger now, and his gaze was different - the awkward tenacity of his preteen years was replaced with cut calculation, cold despite the playful gleam that occupied them. Catching yourself gawking again, you defaulted back to your scowl.

“You got me wet.” You accused.

“Oh, did I?” Alhaitham quirked a brow, grinning suggestively.

“Not in that way.”

“Do you want it in that way?”

“Stop trying to change the topic. The issue is, I’m soaked through with puddle water and about half an hour late to the reunion.” You snapped. Oh, how the tables had turned - now you were the one being teased, your face flushed and your fists clenched by your side.

“Alright, I get it. I apologise. Do you want my coat?” Alhaitham shrugged, looking down at you now in concern.

“Yes.”

“And a lift to the reunion as well, I assume?”

Archons, how much you hated him in that moment. His wry, mocking smile was back - although you were grateful for the warmth that now settled across your shoulders from his coat. Begrudgingly, you agreed, and Alhaitham ushered you into the passenger seat.

“Careful, watch your head. Don’t want you hitting it on the roof, because you’re just so much taller than me, aren’t you?” The man chuckled from behind you.

“Shut up, it was ten years ago.” You retorted, only to be met with another condescending laugh as he buckled your seatbelt for you. Alhaitham then climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine smoothly before pulling away from the curb - only pausing for a moment to shoot you a smug smile.

The reunion was pleasant, albeit mundane. Much to your annoyance, Alhaitham was the centre of attention - the gleaming golden child who’d had a glow up and dominated whatever lame industry he’d decided to get into. Despite this, he was remarkably different around others. A stoic expression was settled on his handsome features as he mostly kept conversations short and blunt, refusing alcohol.

You, on the other hand, had lost count of your glasses, relishing in the feel of liquor searing down your throat whilst you brooded from your seat next to Alhaitham.

“Alhaithaaam, why don’t you have a drink? You’re… no fun…” You mumbled, pushing your glass against his lips as you rested your head on his shoulder. It was warm, and broad - how pleasant it would be, to just rest on it.

“I have to drive you home, remember? Speaking of which, you should stop drinking now. It’s not healthy.” Alhaitham pushed your hand away, although he kept hold of your wrist to prevent you from pouring another glass.

“Just one more drink…” You whined, frowning and slamming your free hand over Alhaitham’s mouth upon sensing he was about to spew some medical fact about the effect of alcohol on the body. That was one thing that hadn’t changed about him.

“Alright, time to go. It was pleasant meeting everyone.” Alhaitham pursed his lips, pulling your hands away and tucking his arms under your shoulders to hoist you up.

“Nooo, I don’t wanna…” You flailed, vaguely making out the mirthful expressions of your former classmates before Alhaitham grabbed your legs and carried you out of the restaurant bridal style.

“Put me down!” You hit at his chest, which probably did more damage to your hands than it did to him, and kicked your legs to no avail.

“Shh, you’ll thank me for this in the morning.” Gently, you were set down in the passenger seat - hearing the click of the seatbelt buckle and the clink of the door shutting. Alhaitham readjusted his jacket around your form so that it covered you like a blanket, sighing and turning his attention to the road.

“Mm…. Do you have any wipes?” You rifled through Alhaitham’s glove box, before your fingers brushed over something. Pulling it out, you realised it was an old photo of you and him standing outside the school gates. A wide grin was spread across your face, one arm propped up on his head, a vastly less amused expression occupying his smaller features.

“Alhaithaam, what’s thiiis?” You snorted, delighting in the way Alhaitham’s adam’s apple bobbed at seeing the photo clutched in your hand. Finally, he’d broken his infuriating demeanour - even if it was only for a second. You decided to prod it further to get more of a reaction.

“Hmm… Maybe… You stiiill have a crush on me?” You smirked, although you put little thought into your words. There was no way the stoic, cold Alhaitham could maintain his former-

The car stopped with more force than necessary at the immediate red light. You weren’t sure if it was the reflection of those lights, but Alhaitham’s face appeared flushed. His hands gripped the steering wheel to the point where his knuckles turned white, eyes fixed on the road with searing intensity.

Oh?

“No waaay.” You turned to Alhaitham incredulously. Perhaps it was the liquor. The alcohol churning in your veins. After all, what other explanation could there be for your racing heart?

And, more importantly, did his heart race like yours?

The answer was in the abrupt stop of the car by the side of the road. In the cold, lithe fingers holding your chin. In the push of Alhaitham’s lips against yours, tasting like sweet mint. The answer, breathless, was muttered by your childhood friend as he finally pulled away.

“So what if I do?” Alhaitham’s voice was barely more than a whisper, his face close enough to the point you could feel his breath. His eyes were so beautiful, opulent green flecked with glowing amber. They searched yours desperately for a reply, for reciprocity.

You were confused. Drunk, both on alcohol and the taste of Alhaitham’s lips. So many feelings gushed around your head like the liquor you’d drunk earlier, sloshing nonsensically. As if to deflect the restlessness of your own heart, you leaned in again for another kiss - for that was the only certain reciprocation you could give.

And under the streetlight, amidst flushed cheeks and wandering hands, you found the Alhaitham you’d known from middle school again. The Alhaitham that blushed at your words, and shot you yearning looks. Chuckling between shallow breaths, you cupped his cheeks in your hands - smiling at the familiar face of the boy you’d loved.

#genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin oneshots #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham oneshot #alhaitham smut

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

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I Come With Knives Pt5

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Am I happy with this chapter? I think so??? I think I was trying to get it to go somewhere it didn't want to go before but I'm happy with how it ends now. I don't know if the words I'm saying make sense I'm so tired lmao

This chapter was inspired by A Lover's Folly (the chapter Fear of Losing It, specifically) by @tripleyeeet! Please go give it a read it's so fucking good

Warnings: angst, blood, murder, canon-typical violence, swearing, hints to a panic attack, Macbeth reference

Word Count: 2,103

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“A mystical and dangerous people, we travel the land, never settling in one place. We steal your chickens, curse your crops, seduce your daughters - your friend here has heard it all, I’m sure.” You look at Astarion from the corner of your eye. Despite his cool, confident demeanor, you can see how tense he is. He’s staring at the man before you like a steak on a silver platter. “I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess. Alas, I am a simple wanderer. A simple wanderer and monster hunter. But I’m no witchdoctor or cut-throat.”

“So what monster are you hunting?”

Astarion pipes in, a devious smirk playing on his lips. You’re shocked the self-proclaimed monster hunter does not take notice of his fangs or the punctures on his neck. Though, Astarion’s are far less prominent than yours - you feel fortunate to have a high collar. “Something terrifying, no doubt. Dragon? Cyclops?” He paused, a teasing lilt in his voice as he adds, “Kobold?”

Gandrel chuckles. “Nothing so dramatic. Actually, this quarry is a bit unusual. My people got word of a missing person, stolen in the night by a vampire. It’s unlikely they’re still alive, but with any luck we’ll find the kidnapper.”

You swallow, but the hunter doesn’t seem to notice. Astarion can hear the spike in your heart rate. “That’s not much to go on.”

“You’re right about that. We do know the victim’s name, though there’s not much work can be done with that save wander around shouting for them.” He tells you the name, and your heart drops. You make a good effort not to show it. Your face is still neutral as before, your body stiffly in position, but with a glance Astarion can see the way your eyes are distant. They flicker over Gandrel’s face, assessing the threat he possesses. You’re trying to work up a plan, an escape route, anything - but fear clouds your thoughts. Astarion can smell the anxiety wafting off you, even through the hunter’s stench.

This shouldn’t be as big of a problem as your mind makes it to be. You could lie, tell him you weren’t stolen, tell him you ran away. Perhaps he would take money for his silence. But what if he chose to take you back anyway? What if she is providing a much higher reward than anything you can offer? You can’t go back. You can’t.

Astarion clears his throat and steps forward. “And if you find them? Where will you be taking them, exactly?”

“With any luck? I’d be taking them back to Berdusk.”

Berdusk. Being able to place a name to the city of your tormentor somehow made it worse. You knew where she resided now - you could simply take a detour from Baldur’s Gate and kill her. But, that would mean going back. Walking within reach of her clutches. You could almost feel her hot breath against your neck. Her nails digging into your skin. You can’t go back to that.

“Are you alright?” Your mind is forced back into your body when the Gur directs his question at you. You search your mind for an excuse, but fall hopelessly short.

Astarion steps in where you falter. “Ah, yes, you remember then, darling?” He speaks, then, to the Gur. “I believe we heard that name along our travels. A mere whisper on the wind.”

The hunter lights up. “Really? Any information you have would be invaluable to my mission.”

He taps his chin, frowning in fake thought. “It’s a bit foggy - we must have crossed paths weeks ago by now. If only I could remember…” He looks at the Gur from the corner of his eye, smirking. “Perhaps I can be enticed to recall just where they went.”

The man sighs. He reaches for his coin purse. Your heart leaps into your throat. He’s reaching for a weapon. He knows who you are. He’s going to kill you. He knows what Astarion is. He’s going to kill you both.

When your mind catches up, the man is on the ground. You kneel over him. Two hands hold your dagger within his eye, hilt-deep. The other stares blankly up at you, mouth gaped around a silent scream. Droplets of blood marr your face, mere specks of warmth and wet.

“Shit.”

Astarion grabs your shoulder, but your mind is still consumed by fear and paranoia. You whirl around, bloody blade bared at the vampire. Your grip is all wrong - you’re terrified. He steps back, hands raised. Your eyes flicker across his face over and over again, but you don’t see him. In his place is a stranger. Someone ready to steal you, haul you back to Berdusk, back to your master.

“As much as I love the offer, now isn’t the time,” he quips. He kneels down slowly, getting to eye-level. His whole face is dark. The reference to sex is completely masked by his seriousness. “You’re safe. You’re not going back - not if I can help it.”

Your hands shake. Drops of blood fall off the knife, landing in the dirt without a sound. His blood. This man’s blood.

Gods, what have you done?

You drop the knife like it burns you to hold it. It clatters to the ground with a dull thud. You didn’t notice before the blood staining your fingers, but you do now. It’s all you can notice. Well, that, and the body beside you.

“I-I killed him,” you stammer out, barely a whisper. Astarion says nothing. He realizes the irony in your guilt just as much as you. “I didn’t even think- I didn’t… Gods.”

Your thoughts are consumed by the red stains. You have to get them off. You have to rid yourself of this ever-growing weight in your stomach. But you don’t have much to wipe it off on. Your clothes? Then you’d have to wash the blood out. (Though, little flecks stick to your collar and sleeves already.) The ground? Rub dirt all over until somehow it removes the red? You couldn’t even entertain the thought. But you needed to get it off.

You frantically wipe the blood away with your hands, only serving to spread it further into your skin. But it’s all you can think to do. You have to get it off. You must. If you don’t… If… Would something bad happen? You’re not sure. It feels like yes, something terrible would occur the longer it sat on your flesh. But what? Why won’t it fucking come off?

You don’t even realize you’re speaking. Half-formed desperate, choked pleas to get rid of the blood. Prayers to higher powers to forgive you - even when you’d never prayed for such a thing before. Insults spewed toward yourself, damning you for being so fucking weak.

So you killed a man, so what? You’d killed hundreds to get you where you kneel. What made him any different?

I killed him in self-defense.

You’ve killed loads of men and creatures alike for the same reason.

He didn’t recognize me.

You don’t know that, do you?

All he had was a name. Not even a description of who he searched for. He wouldn’t recognize me.

And why dwell on that? If he’d recognized you, surely he’d drag you back? Tie you up, gag you, drop you on her doorstep. She’d recognize you.

And she’d punish me. Punish them. And then she’d see my scars. What then?

Then she’d gut you. Slowly. Keeping you alive for as long as possible so she can moan to your screams, so she can lick her fingers clean of your adrenaline-rich blood. She’d even do it in front of her spawn. And they’d love it.

I hurt them.

You fucked up and they paid for it. They’d laugh as you beg for mercy. They’d even join in if they could.

But he didn’t need to die. Astarion, he- He could have led him away. I would have been safe.

And when he realized Astarion sent him on a wild goose chase? He’d turn right back around. And by that point his suspicions would fall to you - the leader. He’d know.

He’d know you’re the monster he hunts.

Hands roughly grab your own, snapping you out of your restless trance. Your skin is not only red from blood, but from how much you rubbed and scratched. Small lines beaded with your own blood where your nails broke the skin. It stung. And finally feeling that pain grounded you further.

“Calm down, for gods’ sakes,” Astarion cursed. He hurriedly pressed a white handkerchief into your hand. It was soft and cool to the touch. Gold embroidery danced around the edges, quickly becoming stained and ruined. “You’re going to rip your skin off.”

You felt everything so vividly. You almost wished you were numb to it again. “I’m sorry,” you croaked. “I don’t know what happened, I just… I thought of her. Of what she’d do to me, and I couldn’t think of another way out.”

He sighed, annoyed but all too understanding. “I was going to send him off North. By the time he realized he’s been had, we would already be in Baldur’s Gate.”

“I’m sorry.”

He smirked wickedly, mischief twinkling in his eye, despite the tinge of concern underlying it all. “You’ve simply provided a more permanent solution to our problem.” He glanced over, but you closed your eyes. You didn’t want to look again. “No point worrying about it now.”

“He could have helped,” you chastise. The intensity was only directed toward yourself. “If we paid him or explained or- or something, he could have gone back and said I was dead. Then- then she might have stopped looking for me.”

“And if he didn’t?”

You couldn’t let yourself spiral through that argument again. You just shook your head, opening your eyes to watch as he wiped away the blood. Most of it stayed, requiring water to wash it off - a realization that frightened you. What if the blood never came off?

“I know it may seem hard to believe,” he began. His voice was strained, like he was forcing himself to believe in it too, “but you’re not alone in this fight. If she finds you - Do you hear me? If. - we can protect you. And if she takes you away, we know where to find you now.”

“Berdusk.” He hummed, pleased you understood his meaning.

“Karlach would go on a rampage before she ever lays a finger on you.”

You chuckled weakly at the thought. You could almost picture your companion barging down the front door of the manor, everybody else behind her, as she tears through the place to find you. It’s… comforting.

A shiver runs through your body as the adrenaline finally fades from your system. You sighed. And just when most of your guilt has left, another weight finds itself in your throat - a heavy lump of fear. “I’m afraid to go to Baldur’s Gate,” you admit quietly. He pauses to look up at you, red eyes scanning your face. “Berdusk is so close by.”

“If it’s any consolation, Cazador is in Baldur’s Gate.” You hum; he’s told you this before.

“And you’re walking back into arms reach.” You look up from your hands. “Doesn’t that terrify you?”

He huffs a humorless laugh. “Do I hide my fear that well?” he teased. “Of course I’m terrified. I have no idea how well these tadpoles block his influence. For all I know, the moment I step foot in the Gate, he’ll have full control over me again.

“But if there’s even the slightest chance I could kill him, I’m going to take it. I can’t go back to that life. Not after this.”

Not after experiencing freedom for the first time in too long.

Astarion curls your fingers around the handkerchief so you’ll hold it. He picks up your bloody dagger and cleans the blade on the dead Gur’s clothes. You can’t watch, but you can see the sneer on his face as he does so. He reaches forward and tucks it away in your sheath. It feels heavier at your hip somehow.

He holds you by your arms as you stand, continuing to hold your hands in front of you. It feels wrong to let them hand so casually by your side, and just the thought of using them makes you feel worse. He turns you away from the body, directing you back toward camp.

You can still feel the Gur’s blood in your skin, even after you spend two whole hours washing your hands.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie

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fancifulplaguerat · 10 months

Text

I’m so not normal about this

The way that Artemy tries to make Daniil feel better despite not caring solely because Daniil is upset, the “you are also better-crafted than me” like Artemy is telling him not to think of himself as some worthless unloved doll because look at yourself, you’re so much more than that; just that last line the compassion the kindness in it I cannot stand this. I’m not even that into Burakhovsky in canon but this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life (←light hyperbole)

I’ve gotten too desensitized to the doll ending that I forget what a gut punch it is. That line “Strangely, there is still not a word to be heard from the Powers That Be. Perhaps they became bored of it all... or were called back home for supper” plain devastates me. Just the futility of it all, how pointless all the characters’ suffering was, in particular the healers’. Though I enjoy the theatre-framing in Patho 2, the ‘children’s game’ meta in Patho Classic gets under my skin far more, as there’s some ‘purpose’ in Artemy/Daniil/Clara suffering onstage, playing their roles for an audience. While Patho 2 implies futility with the ‘you aren’t important, you can be recast,’ that idea of ‘you are not important, and everything you did meant nothing’ hits me harder in the game framing because the healers aren’t even worth being replaced. Everything is just some kids’ make-believe that can be tossed aside when they get bored or are called away.

But I fucking love “The Powers That Be” concept because it’s so perfectly ominous and vague. Could be anything, likely the government, but sike actually it’s two children who orchestrated your entire living nightmare. I love the subtle references to them throughout the game, too, such as a plague victim telling Daniil “I keep hearing children’s voices... the girls are crying, and the boy is laughing... We mustn’t scare them...” or Aspity asking, “Pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat... Can you hear the kids running around?” And granted this might not truly be about The Powers That Be, but it certainly feels like it could be. Or the foreshadowing on Day 1 of the Bachelor Route when Daniil asks the kids, “How did it even cross your mind... to play epidemic!” And Clara directly references them when she goes underground with Artemy, warning him to talk as little as possible so “they who are beyond the wall won’t hear you.”

She elaborates:

“I can only feel them. They are obscure. They are the ones in charge of everything here. They’re big but narrow-souled, trying to hide their wretchedness from us. It was all their doing. They haven’t revealed themselves yet. [...] Their time hasn't come yet. They are waiting in the wings. They will probably break into the world when it ends. Tomorrow they will show themselves...”

I highly enjoy Measly and Thrush’s presence being all over the game unbeknownst to the player and characters (excluding Clara).

And it creates even more futility to me because there’s no catharsis of just anger against some cruel puppet-master, like I can’t be angry with these children who are just playing. Especially how they ask, “Heal the town, please! Just look, it’s so wonderful... It’s alive and it’s our favorite one... We won’t be able to make another one like this. If it can’t be helped, then it will disappear forever. You know how much we love it?” They’re just kids who want you to save something that they love; even if they can be devious they don’t really have malicious intentions. But even their fears about losing their town aren’t real and I’m just going to go outside and start eating handfuls of dirt

#to say nothing of the mishka's doll quest in artemy's route #pathologic #daniil dankovsky #artemy burakh #the powers that be #patho.txt

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ariundercovers · 10 months

Text

Choke on It - Dark!Joel Miller x Reader

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: (AFAB reader) takes place post-TLOU. They’re both members of the Jackson community, often put on patrols together. Reader has a penchant for destruction and rage, especially in the face of self-preservation. Sometimes, they just want to be able to let go.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: explicit 18+ graphic depictions of sex and violence. dubcon, choking, breath play, degradation, skull fucking, spitting, forced blowjobs, idk. It’s dark. Kinda a hate fuck? They like each other tho. Semi-established/FWB situation.

a/n: PLEASE HEED WARNINGS. Joel is not a nice man. Y’all, its dark again. Please heed the warnings. Maybe this is where I live now. (No, I don’t – I’ll never get enough of writing fluffy Din fics.) Not a lot of plot. Mostly porn. At least partial credit for this one goes to @ezras--moon! We had a blast working on a VERY similar scene with two other characters, and I woke up this morning with thots, so I needed it to be full-length.

Enjoy, you filthy animals.

This fucking woman.

She was one of the most vicious and notorious members of the patrol in Jackson: the first one they sent out when there were murmurings of a group of raiders, or big trouble past the walls. And he was fucking infatuated by her – always had been. From the day he met her – all grumpy eyes and deep mistrust – something in him always drew him to her.

He looked over at her on the horse just a few meters beside him, sunset framing the shape of her face from behind. It could’ve been one of those super expensive pictures in a museum, he thought. A fucking Michelangelo, or a Bernini, or whoever those old famous artists were that they learned about in high school. Hadn’t thought about them in at least two or three decades, probably wouldn’t think about them again.

The two of them were peas in a pod, really. They ran on the same wavelength – self-preservation, protecting the ones they held close, and a total lack of trust for anyone outside of their inner circle. Joel was all too happy to lean into it, lean into whatever this was with her, especially now with the way that Ellie looked at him like she hated him – his last lifeline connecting him to something more human, severed. She was the last thing for him to grapple onto that gave him any sense of human connection outside of his brother. He took every patrol he could with her, every task in Jackson that would allow him to work near her, with her, in earshot of her, in view of her.

He was a goner, really. That stupid little perfect ass of hers, the way her lips puckered when she spoke. The curve of her breast, the way the scars littered her stupid, perfect face. The devious look in her eye when they went on patrol, when she got herself in trouble – and then, of course, the way she killed things: infected, clickers, raiders, without even the slightest hesitation. The way she shot her rifle without batting an eyelash, sunk a dagger into her enemy’s eye socket without a second thought. The way she let herself just kill, with reckless abandon.

Oh, and kill, she did.

There’s a glint in her eyes that he catches sometimes – it’s fierce, brutal, kind of like the fire he can watch travel under her skin at the smallest hint of danger ahead. It’s like watching lightning strike a tree – explosive, frightening. It all plays a part in why Joel just couldn’t keep her out of his mind. Her presence was all-consuming to him in a way that he couldn’t manage to slip out of. He was bound up in her talons like a falcon’s prey.

It’s her voice – not Joel’s - that eventually fractures the silence between them as they move along their scheduled patrol route.

“Sun’s almost down, we should set up camp for the night. I’ll take first watch, you get some rest.”

He glanced over at her, intrigued. Even the way she commanded things to him – something he wouldn’t take for a second from anyone else – thrilled him. A spark shot down between his legs as he thought about taking that from her, shutting her up and making her follow his own rules, instead.

Their camp for the night is just an outcropping of stone with a few closely spaced trees – they’ve used it before. It’s a small fire and a couple sleeping bags and a flask of Tommy’s shitty home-grown alcohol, held tight to his chest. It’s the silhouette of her damn gorgeous body on display for him, lit up by the flames, just for his viewing pleasure. “I know you’re awake, Joel. Stop staring and go the fuck to sleep.”

How could he possibly sleep? He was too busy thinking up all the ways he could touch her and disassemble her right now.

“Can’t just do that, darlin’.” His voice is gravelly when it comes out, partially due to lack of sleep and partially due to the arousal he’s been trying to fend off since they started their patrol this morning.

“Yeah, you can, Joel. Shut the hell up and close your fuckin’ eyes.” The eye roll she gives him is magnificent – makes him suppress a chuckle in the back of his throat. He sits up, glaring at her, and he slides sideways out of his sleeping bag.

“Now why the fuck would I do that, sweetheart, when you’re jus’ sittin’ there lookin’ good enough to eat? When I could be using that perky little body of yours for whatever I wanted?” His words are laced with something salty-spicy-sweet, cutting her deep while he praises her, catching her off guard.

She blinks back at him a few times, taken aback by his forwardness. He’d never been this direct before – she always had to coax it out of him, convince him it was a good idea, that they should let off some steam with each other every once in a while.

It was threatening. And thrilling.

He stands, slowly, and his movements are labored now that those joint just don’t work the way they used to anymore, but his eyes are back on hers in an instant, glaring daggers right into her soul. She’s sitting on a downed tree a few feet from the fire, and as he stalks his way around it to breech her personal space, she can’t help but recognize the gushing feeling between her legs. This was a different Joel than the one that usually came on patrols with her – a kind of Joel that she always thought he had in him, but he’d never let himself show.

“Yeah, Joel? Not sure you have it in you to make that happen.” She doesn’t move from her spot, perched on the edge of the log with a rifle strewn across her lap. Her eyes stay trained on his, not backing down even an inch, and her body stays relaxed, calculated – unafraid. The taunt is deliberate, teasing the waters of whatever this version of Joel was willing to put up with.

The toes of Joel’s boots click against her own and he crouches down in front of her, eyes still trained on one another with snipers’ gazes.

“That a challenge? I don’t think you wanna challenge me right now, darlin’. I’m feelin’ all kinds of ways about that mouth ‘a yours.” Her eyes narrow at him and she stands, slowly, dropping the rifle into one hand.

“Real cocky for a half-deaf almost senior citizen with two bad knees and a fuckin’ savior complex.” His hand jolts out before his brain has a chance to choose otherwise, wrapping around her neck instantaneously and squeezing – not enough to completely cut off her air supply, but enough to make her feel it. Her hand that’s not on the rifle comes up to claw at his forearm.

“Fuckin’ watch it, sweetheart. I am not in the mood.”

She blinks back at him and smirks, still cocky even with the hand wrapped around her throat starting to squeeze tighter with each passing moment. “Do your fucking worst, Joel. You. Don’t. Scare. Me.”

The chuckle that comes out of his throat is dark – maybe even sinister. His eyes narrow at her and he inches himself closer until their noses are almost touching.

“My worst, sweetheart? You’re gonna regret that. Almost feel sorry for your fuckin’ throat.” He uses his grip on her neck to push her down, dropping her hard onto her knees as she looks up at him with hooded lids. Releasing her throat, he runs his hand through her hair before fisting it in the locks tied up at the crown of her head. He uses the leverage to yank her head backward at an uncomfortable angle that throws her off balance – she’d fall right over if he let go right now.

A wicked smirk comes over his face as he reaches down with his free hand and unbuckles his belt, then his pants, pulling out his already hard, leaking cock. Her eyes widen just slightly, always a bit shocked by the size of it, and he uses the grip in her hair to inch her mouth closer to the tip.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart. Couldn’t keep it closed a minute ago.” He pushes the tip just past her lips and she lets her jaw drop, taking him in as his width stretches the muscles in her jaw.

He’s not kind about it – he slams her head down onto his cock so hard she’s sputtering and gagging at the bottom end, no chance to adjust to his size. The hair in his hand becomes the reins he uses to rock himself into her at a violent pace. Her hands instinctively rest at his thighs, nails biting into the jean-clad flesh as she gags and chokes at every thrust. He pulls her off him and watches as her saliva remains in strands – connecting her to him even while she isn’t touching, running down her chin like she just bathed in it. Her breath comes out in pants, trying to catch it before he makes his next move.

This was what he was aching for, he just didn’t know it until he had it in his hands. Needed to see her this fucking wrecked because of him, messy and broken. He’d break her more tonight – this was just a crack in the outer shell. Letting out a quick puff of air, his smile is sinister when he offers her his next command.

“Deep fuckin’ breath, darlin’.”

He watched her take a few short breaths and then a particularly large one. At the top end of it, when he could see that her chest cavity was full, he forced her mouth back down onto him as far as she can go, holding it tight to his pelvis so she couldn’t move.

“20 seconds, now.”

The nickname sears her as she blinks back the salty tears that start to fall without her permission. Her nose is buried in his pubic hair and the cock in her throat is so deep she can’t swallow, can’t even gag, really, and definitely can’t breathe. She has no other choice but to hold her breath while she’s locked onto his cock like this. Her grip on his thighs increases as the tears in her eyes start streaming more steadily.

And then, finally, he starts counting.

“1… 2… 3…” His grip on her hair is legitimately bruising – skin stretched over her skull to the point of pain. It’s like he’s ripping the back of her skull off while simultaneously pushing her down and it makes the gears spin in her brain faster than she can process them.

“6… 7… 8…” She looks up to him and his eyes are locked on hers. If she could form a coherent thought in her brain right now beyond breathe, breathe, breathe, she’d realize he was watching her closely – the way she flinches, how her throat spasms around him, the twitching of her body as she struggled for oxygen he so expertly deprived her of.

“12… 13… 14…” He’s not rocking his hips into her mouth, luckily – at least not yet. He’s just holding steady, actively pushing in with his hips and his hand in such a way that it made it impossible for her to get any semblance of relief.

“18… 19… 20.” He yanks her head back from his cock and she sputters around him, gagging as he finally pulls himself from her throat. Her muscles spasm and contract from the abuse, breath shaky and panicked. Coughing, her lungs burn as they fill back up with air, and she’s not sure what’s saliva and what’s saline tears on her face anymore.

“Another one, darlin’. Breathe.” Joel watches closely while the muscles of her neck expand and contract, waiting to see that big breath he needed her to take. At the peak of it, he pulled her hard onto his cock again, burying her nose into his pelvis bone, even a fraction deeper this time, and starts to count.

“1… 2… 3…” She was just so damn pretty with so many tears rolling down her face - eyelashes clumped together, face a shiny mess of bodily fluids. He watched the way her eyes were getting redder as the tears came more freely this second round, enraptured by the way they turned bloodshot, illuminated by the warm glow of the campfire.

It was just so lovely.

“9… 10… 11… 12…” This time, he started rocking his hips now, pushing a bit deeper where he could. Strategically, he thrusted only about an inch at a time – still deep enough to cut off her airway completely but giving him the satisfaction of fucking into her throat at the same time.

“18… 19… 20.” In truth? This was like watching a star explode around his cock - this usually powerful, dominant, no-fucks-to-give woman with a penchant for violence and decimation everywhere she went reduced to rubble in his hands, putty on his cock. He ripped her head back off of him once more and groaned at the way she sputtered out immediately, coughing as tendrils of saliva broken splashed back and forth onto his dick from her mouth, chin, and neck.

“Breathe, darlin’. So fucking beautiful for me. You’re such a fuckin’ whore, so wrecked on this cock.” She caught her breath, a panicked look in her bloodshot eyes as she met his again, holding a hand to her throat. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, ‘m not gonna make you do that again.” He squeezed her jaw tight in one hand, letting go of her hair with the other. Fingers dug into her cheeks, he could feel her teeth through the thick flesh as he pinched her cheeks together, as her hands scrambled up to cling to his wrist, pleading for him to stop, to keep going, to move faster, for something. She didn’t even know what.

“You did alright. Gonna make you count to 30 for me next time, though.” He steps up toward her and spits on her face, her eyes and mouth wide open as his saliva makes contact and mixes with her own. He rubs it in roughly with his free hand and pushes her away. Off balance, she falls back onto her heels, and she turns over onto her hands and knees as she continues to heave and cough, spitting on the ground below. He crouches over her again, his chest now inches frond her back, and he whispers darkly.

“Gonna fuck you like the whore you are, now.”

A shaky breath catches in her throat as she composes herself before lifting her head and turning it back to him, meeting his eyes while still trying to heave breaths back into her lungs. She smiles wickedly, teeth bared. That glint is in her eye that gets him every time.

“Do your fuckin’ worst, Joel."

#joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #dubcon #writing #dark!joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #the last of us fanfiction #no beta we die like men

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a-devious-route · 3 days

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Marco Pigossi

400*640

(( more ))

Pour @andthesunrisesagain 👀

#c'est pas grand chose #mais j'espère que ça servira!#marco pigossi #marco pigossi avatars #marco pigossi avatar #avatar #avatars #felicis #faceclaim #ressources #faceclaim suggestion #rpg ressources #ressource #a devious route #forum rpg #trying some new stuff #slowy getting back in

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crissiebaby · 7 months

Text

The Pampered Curse: Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, humiliation, domination, masturbation/diaper sex, hyperwetting, mental regression, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: BlossomBitchDolly

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Beggar’s night. The one night a year when parents deem it acceptable to let their snot-nosed brats run amuck through every suburban street in America. For Edan Claymore, who often enjoyed a nice evening walk around the neighborhood, Halloween was up there with the Fourth of July for the most annoying holiday. Not even his noise-canceling earbuds were a match for the ear-piercing shrieks that echoed all around.

“Boo!”

All of a sudden, a random kid with a white sheet draped over themselves ran up and shouted in Edan’s face, causing him to recoil. By the time he caught his breath, the kid had sprinted off and ducked between a row of houses. Unless he wanted to get mixed up in chasing some dumb kid around the neighborhood, he had to let it go.

Having been thoroughly annoyed by the vermin who were obstructing his usual walking route, Edan decided to turn off down a gravel road that he had never seen anyone venture down before, much less himself. This was mainly due to the gravel road part with him not wanting to get his shoes dusty for no good reason. However, desperate times called for desperate measures, and a dirty, isolated road was better than the alternative.

Walking alongside the rock-covered road, Edan picked up a small handful of pebbles off the ground and chucked one as far into the empty field as he could. As he did, he spotted a house in the distance that he’d never seen before. He supposed that shouldn’t be a surprising fact since this was his first time walking in this direction. Still, he’d lived in this town his whole life so it was a bit odd to find somewhere unfamiliar.

Edan approached the structure with a skeptical eye, which grew wide as he discovered what he was walking toward wasn’t a house but a massive mansion. This only spiked his curiosity further. He tossed a pebble over the black, gated fence and struck the abandoned-looking mansion on its dilapidated roof. Part of him considered trespassing briefly, especially since there was clearly no one else around for at least half a mile. But as he looked down at his untorn blue jeans and new, slightly dusty sneakers, he figured it was not worth it.

“MMMMMMMMMMMUH!”

That was until a feminine moan hooked itself around Edan’s ear. He whipped his head back toward the mansion, scanning the windows for signs of life. To his surprise, it appeared that someone was inside the house, visible through one of the lower windows. Creeping back up to the gate, he focused his sights on the silhouette in the window, able to make out the naked, curvy form of a busty woman.

In the back of his mind, Edan knew he should pretend he never saw or heard anything and leave. Nothing good would come from trying to get a closer look. But as he looked back and forth at the empty road, his devious, lewd mind got to work. Perhaps beggar’s night wouldn’t be a total bust after all so long as he got in some “trick or treating” of his own. Throwing caution to the wind, he used the brain between his legs to will himself forward, passing between a pair of bent bars along the fence and sneaking up to the tantalizing window.

*SQUELCH!*

“Goddess, this chick must have the wettest pussy alive,” thought Edan as he listened in on this young woman’s sloppy sex noises. She must’ve been so unbearably horny for her slit to be that moist; a fact that produced a small tent in the front of his pants. Getting his breathing under control, he placed his hands on the window sill and hopped up on his tippy toes to get a look at the insatiable, slutty cutie whose voice beckoned him like a siren luring men to their doom. If only Edan had known how apt a comparison that actually was.

“Oh, fuck! M-More!” yelled the young woman who had every right to believe that no one was around to eavesdrop on her dirty deeds. Though what kind of dirty deeds she was up to was far outside of anything Edan could have ever imagined. At first, he believed his eyes had to be playing tricks on him. Sure enough, there was a lone girl positioned on an antique couch with her hands lovingly plunged between her thighs.

Besides her hands, something else was between her legs as well. Something white and bulbous with a faint, yellow center. It wasn’t until Edan rubbed his eyes that he was able to confirm his wildest suspicions. Whoever this girl happened to be wasn’t just masturbating, she was grinding atop a swollen, squishy diaper, the likes of which were far bigger than any he’d ever laid eyes on.

Edan watched with mouth agape as the woman arched back and howled a deep, passionate cry. Her hips rocked with a velocity he’d never seen before. It would almost be majestic if he wasn’t so repulsed by what she was doing from a base standpoint. Not that he really cared much what someone was into one way or another. He just found the idea of getting off in a diaper to be a ridiculous fad that would be sure to fade in time. “Psssh, fucking gross,” he mumbled, realizing too late that his thoughts had absent-mindedly slipped out of his mouth.

“Huh?! Who’s there?!” said the woman, instantly becoming alert to the strange whispering coming from her window. Tragically for Edan, he wasn’t fast enough to avoid being seen as she spotted his fingers still clung to the window sill. Her response was fairly predictable, “EEEEEEEK!”

Releasing his grip on the ledge of the window, Edan backed away as he recognized the gravity of his situation. The last thing he needed was to get caught and be labeled the town peeper. He stumbled away from the mansion with his eyes glued to the window he’d been staring through. Unfortunately, this meant he wasn’t watching where he was walking.

“Excuse me!” said the woman, who appeared in Edan’s path just as he turned toward the gate. Naturally, he screamed and fell back onto his ass, startled by her sudden appearance, “And just who do you think you are?!” She placed her hands on her hips, which still had the ridiculously large diaper she’d been humping taped around them.

Falling down into the knee-high grass, Edan was flabbergasted by how unnatural fast this woman managed to meet him outside. He didn’t even hear the front door or any footsteps. Something was definitely off. Still, for as many bizarre thoughts that entered his head, an equal amount of brain power was focused on quelling the situation to keep the police from being called. “I-I’m so sorry! I heard a scream from down the road and thought I outta check it out,” he lied, pretending it was concern and not titillation that brought him in.

Unsurprisingly, the woman saw right through Edan’s pathetic excuse, though was unable to stop herself from blushing at the thought of how audible her sex acts were. She teetered in place, feeling her horniness begrudgingly rise again, caused in part by how exposed her playtime was but mostly by the ultra-squishy diaper that squelched between her knees with every tiny movement. Furrowing her brow line, she issued Edan a single warning, “Leave this place now…and forget anything you saw!”

Sitting up, the pace of Edan’s heartbeat slowly came down as he listened to the mysterious girl’s declaration. Just who did she think she was ordering him around like that, especially while standing in front of him in a diaper that brought new meaning to the word, “soggy.” Sure, he was technically in the wrong but he also wasn’t the exhibitionist masturbating in front of an open window before subsequently marching outside in her sex gear. “Trust me, I won’t be coming back here again,” he said, his aggression getting the better of him as the woman rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. Who was she to judge him?! Losing control of his tongue at the wrong moment, he continued, “It’s not like I’d wanna spend time around some diaper-wearing loser chick anyway.” He climbed to his feet and dusted the dirt of his jeans.

“A diaper-wearing loser, huh?” said the woman, once again having moved at seemingly the speed of lightning to meet Edan face to face, “Such a vulgar tongue you have. Didn’t your mother treat you how to talk to others, especially your elders?”

Edan jumped backward for a second time, though he was aware of his footing enough this time to remain upright. He caught his breath as he stared at the woman defiantly. “Oh, I have plenty of respect. Just not for some diaper-loving weirdo who’s practically begging to be degraded. Fuck, I bet you’re getting off on all these insults, aren’t you?” he said, folding his arms and smirking at the diaper-clad woman. He flashed his pearly white teeth, believing his words would send her running back into the house with her oversized nappy tucked between her legs.

Unfortunately for Edan, the woman had other plans. “That sounds like an awful lot of projection if you ask me. All you saw was me doing was practicing a little self-love, and now you’ve concocted this whole story of me in your head,” she said, tracing a finger across his collarbone with a seductive yet sinister smile, “Maybe…just maybe…that’s exactly what YOU want.”

*SNAP!*

In the blink of an eye, the woman vanished with the sound of her snapping fingers still lingering in Edan’s ear. He looked around frantically, a cold chill moving up his spine, before turning tail and spirited for the small opening in the gate. And he didn’t stop running until his feet had returned to the familiar comfort of pavement. “Last time I ever walked that way,” he muttered to himself, hoping he’d never have to see that woman or that house ever again.

Meanwhile, standing in the same window she’d been discovered in, the woman lifted her arms up and leaned against the glass of the raised window. She breathed in the crisp, evening air through her nose, a spiteful grin crossing her face. “Be seeing very you soon, my new Little toy.”

Up overhead, the clouds parted just enough to allow a shred of moonlight to be cast down on the mansion. As it did, the woman’s physical form disappeared from sight. Her expression, however, remained.

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*BEEP! BEEP! BEE-*

After a long night of drinking to block out the sounds of the various trick-or-treaters who took it upon themselves to ring his doorbell in spite of ensuring all lights were off in the house, Edan’s bloodshot eyes flickered open as he slapped an exhausted hand down on his alarm clock. Given that it was Sunday, he considered closing his eyes and sleeping for another hour or so. Sadly, his bladder put the kibosh to that idea almost immediately as his body instinctively woke up needing to pee. Groaning, he shuffled his feet out of bed, knowing his need to relieve himself would only grow if he tried to ignore it.

*CRINKLE!*

Suddenly, Edan’s movement came to an abrupt halt as a strange rustling sound accompanied every twitch his lower half made. If that wasn’t odd enough, there appeared to be something soft and plastic-y stuffed between his legs. He threw open his comforter to see what was causing these foreign sensations, his jaw dropping over what he found.

Wrapped around Edan’s crotch and butt was unmistakably a diaper. A generic, white, disposable diaper. A humiliating, infantile, degrading diaper. Many unpleasant thoughts circulated in Edan’s head, most pressingly of which was, “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Edited by AllySmolShork

#ab/dl #ab/dl art #ab/dl stories #ab/dl girl #crissiebaby #diaper art #diaper stories #diaper humiliation #dirty diaper #diaper messy #wetting diaper #md/lb #mental regression #hypnosis #diaper hypno #diaper humping

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silver-crowned-riders · 4 months

Text

I need to start unfollowing all these criminals and evil teams yall are IDIOTS!

Except us. We're the ones who get it ^_^

( 500 GAZILLION notes )

🐲 route-1-full-evos Follow

Yo that guy doesn't have running shoes let's fucking kill him

( 173,688 notes )

R rocket-grunt Follow

Guyssss Giovanni in that new released court footage... someone help me... 🧎💘💔🚑

R rocket-grunt Follow

WINKING AT THE FUCKING JURY????? SIR

R rocket-grunt Follow

I KNOW he's saving a luxury ball just for me

🌲 nerdy-old-man Follow

None of these words are in the pokedex :(

( 309 notes )

🦔 super-duper-sonic-sandshrew-fan Follow

Hi guys I'm Timmy this is my intro post! I'm 10 and love video games. Team Plasma took me in when I was 6 and I haven't seen my family in years but I'm NOT brainwashed!!! I'm not!!!!! My Pokemon are my lvl 11 Tepig and my lvl 30 Rotom assigned to me that keeps a lookout on me :)

#intro post #team plasma #sonic the sandshrew

( 3 notes )

🐈‍⬛ devious-liepard Follow

Guys can we stop like having evil team leaders try to employ actual literal children. Like how are these kids on Rotomblr in the first place??

🌙 umbral-charm Follow

Okay I'm sick of seeing this post on my dash. The trainer's journey starts at 10 obviously these people can make their own decisions 🙄🙄🙄 you are the same people going on about Team Rocket letting teenagers become murderers its NOT A BIG DEALLL. Evil teams these days are so straight laced it's insane.

💀 layla-used-hex Follow

All of you are wrong I joined an evil team on Club Penguin when I was 9 and I swear whatever kid was running that was a bigger menace than Ghetsis. Leave them alone n they'll accomplish more than Giovanni did

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Friendly reminder since this is making rounds again that the first two ppl here ended up being Faba sock puppet accounts. Because it's always Faba. It's always fucking Faba.

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50,000 Pokedollars

#top reward posts #evaluated posts #trainers journey discourse #no arguments in the notes please arc I already had to deal with that on the last aq*a m*gma post for weeks

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#// inspired by the realpokemon one #pkmn irl #rotomblr #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #beau posts #jace posts

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arc-misadventures · 11 months

Text

New Family Dynamics

Willow: Hmm, hmm, hmm~!

Winter: Hello, Mother.

Willow: Huw?! Oh, hello, Winter. You startled me.

Winter: My apologies…

Willow: …?

Willow: Is something wrong, dear?

Winter: Mother… How are you dealing with… all of this…?

Willow: This?

Winter: This new family dynamic?

Willow: Ahh… Well… for the most part I am happy. For the first time in years I can feel genuinely happy.

Winter: You feel happy?

Willow: Yes, inmeasurably so. No more hiding my feelings behind a bottle, being surrounded by those that care little for me, and having a husband that married me for my family’s company, a man who married me for money. You ran from the family, Winter, you managed to get out, and free yourself from our horrible family. I, and the rest of your siblings are still trapped there, in that house, trapped with that monster. Here I am free, here I am happy.

Winter: Do they really make you feel that happy, Mother?

Willow: Well, when it comes to the, Arc’s compared to, Jacques: Would your rather be embraced with a hug, or a slap?

Winter: What?! Has father slap you?!

Willow: Yes… Several times at that… I suppose that is another reason why I went to the bottle…

Winter: I-I didn’t know…

Willow: Well… I didn’t want you to know. You were only a child at the time. Perhaps if I let someone know…

Winter: I’m sorry that happened, I didn’t know this was happening…

Willow: You were already gone by the time he first hit me. You weren’t there on, Weiss’s tenth birthday where he told me he married me for our families legacy, he never loved me, he just wanted money, and power.

Winter: I… I didn’t know…

Willow: Of course not; I never told you any of this.

Winter: I just thought that you… that you didn’t love us. That you didn’t care about us anymore.

Willow: No! Nononono… It was never like that, Winter. I just… couldn’t do anything, and I had no idea how to handle it. I married a man that I thought who loved me, and he gave me two beautiful children. But, even that he seemingly stole from me…

Winter: Stole them? Jacques didn’t steal, Weiss, and Whitely from you.

Willow: Well, not, Weiss, I have more, or less pushed her away from me. Whitely however, I fear he is becoming a mini version of his father. So long as, Jacques is near him I fear I will lose him forever.

Winter: Do you… Do you have any ideas on how to get him back?

Willow: I have been thinking about that since I came here. I want the family life, Juniper, and Acheius have with their family: Being so open, and capable of expressing their love for one another. And, to do that, I have to remove, Jacques Gelé from the, SDC. Permanently.

Winter: Y-You’re not referring to… Killing him?

Willow: That would be the quick, and the efficient route to take. But, I wouldn’t do that… I want to crush him, to kick him out of the family, to leave him destitute, and penniless, to slowly die as the bitter worthless bastard that he is out in the cold of wastelands of, Mantle.

Winter: Oh… That is the better route to take.

Willow: It is; I have a few ideas on how to get the ball rolling, but his taint runs deep. It will not be an easy feat to accomplish. I have mentioned this to, Juniper before, and she been offering me a rather odd bit of advice. Care to hear it?

Winter: What is it?

Willow: Sic, Jaune after him.

Winter: Jaune? Why did they recommended that you should sic my little brother after him?

Willow: Little brother? D-Do you see, Jaune as your little brother?

Winter: D-Did I really just say that?

Willow: You did.

Winter: I just said it without even thinking… I guess I do see him as my little brother. Huw… Isn’t that something.

Willow: What about the girls; Do you see them as your sisters?

Winter: …

Winter: Yes… Yes I do.

Willow: That’s wonderful to hear, Winter. I’m glad you can see those kids, as your siblings. Now, as for, Jaune being sic on, Jacques. They only said this: ‘That smile hides a devious mind.’ I… I don’t understand what they mean by that.

Winter: Hmm… I’ve been sticking around the twins a lot since we got here. And, Jeanne challenged me to a game of chess, she is quite good at chess, we managed to settle for a nice win/loss ratio. 5/4, my favour. But, Jaune… Jaune beat me flawlessly for all nine rounds we played.

Willow: Little upset that your little brother showed you up?

Winter: No…

Willow: Oh really now?

Winter: Okay I am! I have never been so thoroughly beaten before in all my life! It’s so frustrating! And, he was playing blindfold chess on top of it?!

Willow: Blindfold chess? He can play chess like that?!

Winter: They both can! But, Jaune is so much more better at it! He beat me in seventeen moves, seventeen moves!

Willow: Well, It seems like your having fun bonding with your new siblings~!

Winter: The two are really sweet to be around. But, they are quite devious, especially, Jaune. Together they are a menace, on their own. Well, if you messed with, Jeanne, she would shove your head through a wall. If you messed with, Jaune though; Well he would spike your drink with laxatives, lock the door to the bathroom, and by the time you finally manage to get unlock the door, he smashed the toilet to bits.

Willow: R-Really?

Winter: Yes, Jaune is quite… Vindictive…

Willow: Well, if that’s how he fights, he might be able to deal with, Jacques quite swiftly… and, brutally…

Winter: Quite so. I can see why your so happy now, Mom… They make me feel quite happy to. Jeanne’s actually coming with us to, Atlas when we leave.

Willow: Really, why is she?

Winter: Well, Jaune is leaving soon to, Vale for an internship. So, Jeanne is coming with me to, Atlas where she will be my protégé for a few years. She will be training with me to become a, Huntress. I’m looking forward to it actually.

Willow: I’m happy to hear that. Coming here to be with the, Arc’s… Makes me wish I told them years ago I was pregnant with you. Acheius would have stolen me away, and brought me here, and made me his second wife. Where would have raised a large family together. I would be so happy together with them.

Winter: Yeah… Speaking of having a large family… You’re not… You’re not planning on giving me a little sibling any time soon, are you?

Willow: Oh, Winter. Nothing like that is happening. You don’t have to worry about that.

Winter: Mom… I know you’ve been sleeping with the, Juniper, and Dad.

Willow: …

Willow: Eh…?

Winter: We can all hear the three of you going at it.

Willow: Beg pardon…?

Winter: We’ve been camping in the woods because the three of you are so loud for the past week.

Willow: W-We’re that loud…?

Winter: So… Yeah. Are you really not planning on giving me a new sibling?

Willow: …

Willow: Well no… But, if another happy little accident happened; Would you be upset if that happened?

Winter: …

Winter: I wouldn’t be upset…

Willow: Oh… That’s great to hear!

Winter: I just hope I win the betting pool they set up though.

Willow: B-Betting pool? What betting pool?!

#rwby #jaune arc #jeanne arc #juniper arc #acheius arc #jacques schnee #weiss schnee #winter schnee

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