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milkywayes · 7 months

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Thinking about Garrus again and how much I appreciate his character, his development, his search for perspective and how it shapes his relationship with Shepard.

He always wants to do the Right Thing, as in Achieve X Positive End Goal, but the way there is so murky to him. So tough to navigate, to visualize. He likes when it's clear and when it's simple, but it simply never fucking is, so he has to Think It Through. And he simply cannot trust anyone else to do the thinking for him. He can't trust them to value the Right Thing as much as he does. He can't trust them to want it as badly.

and then, ENTER SHEPARD STAGE LEFT, and finally he finds someone that he can trust. With all of it. He can Tell she wants it just as badly, but the difference is, she seems to also have an idea of how to get there.

I've seen people complain that he has no backbone and just agrees with whatever Shepard says, and it's like… they don't get it. He needs someone in his life who he can trust to think things through with him, to meet him where he's at and to engage in good faith. She is the Only person he would ever cede to, the only authority he'll accept, because she has proven herself to care just as much as he cares.

(As a side note, that's also how I view his infamous elevator talks. He's not approaching these conversations closed-mindedly even if his word choice is often lacking or people take offense to his straight-forwardness. As I said, the path is murky for him. He's asking because he genuinely wants to know. He's practically desperate for another point of view. He wants to understand.)

He's the only character who constantly asks Shepard for her opinion on things, on morality issues and approaches and how she'd navigate all the little pitfalls that line the road to Justice. And over the games he recognizes that even this lofty end goal is anything but simple, and it's shaped by how they get there. He doesn't talk these things through with her just to follow her direction like a soldier following orders. Him accepting her response, no matter what it is, is him respecting her so much and believing so much in her true desire for achieving Justice - it's not blanket agreeing with her.

This happens so often in ME3: he'll ask, and she'll respond, and he will accept her answer without judgement, but you never hear him say "you're so right, o my moral compass". He's just mapping the path that's ahead, and he takes her opinion as much into account as his own, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have his own or that it always aligns with hers. He wants the full picture, and at that point, he is humble enough to know that his opinion is subjective, so he needs more points of view and more intel, and there is none that he values more than Shepard's.

But it's not all for himself. They're both stuck in the same, horrible situation. He's asking her, and in turn she has to think about it and really consider all the pitfalls he's already identified but isn't sure how to approach. He's a safe sounding board for her. They think it through together, her as this unstoppable force towards the Right Thing, him as the one in the sniper's perch who sights the path ahead and calls out to her when there's a wall before she can run head-first into it. In the end, they're two people united in their striving for the same thing, two halves of a well-oiled machine. No Shepard without Vakarian.

#mass effect #garrus vakarian #this applies in literally any context romance or no romance #but i'll tag it anyway #shakarian #fuck I'm just so obsessed with him.#so many people completely misunderstand where he's coming from #and it's a little sad but it's okay because at least Shepard gets it #she always gets him #who's mshep never heard of him btw #milky.txt

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puppetmaster13u · 5 months

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Prompt 182

Danny and Wes find themselves in the DC world after a portal incident. No they aren’t speaking about it, why would they need to? The issue is that they’re younger than they should be and it’s a lot harder to do things to try and get back home when people try to get them to go with them or go to the police or whatever.

It’s not like they’re actually five year olds- they were almost graduating! One more week of school! ONE! So maybe they’re salty about it and maybe they both have latched onto each other as the literal only familiar thing in this situation. They don’t have co-dependence, really!

But still, they have things to do! So if people could stop trying to stop them in concern that would be great! Aren’t big cities supposed to be horrible or something?!

#Dcxdp #Dpxdc #Prompts #Danny is his universe version of Superman #Wes is their universe version of Lex Luthor #Fun fact Lex did in fact used to have red hair lol #This WILL lead to misunderstandings #They just want to get home #Danny is only stopped from being a feral badger by the fact Wes is holding his hand #They’re a little co-dependent but they’re sure it’s FINE #It’ll all be fine once they get home #... they can get home again… right….?#Why yes people close to the DC world's versions of them mistake the two for secret love children #Or clones #Or even secret love children from another timeline #There are many misunderstandings

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shy-forceghost · 2 months

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One thing that I love about the bar conversation scene and Bea's "I did not say that!" about being royalty is that it implies that by that point Ava and Beatrice have already had a more detailed conversation about Bea's uppriggning. Not only that, but that it was such a lighthearted conversation so that Ava can freely mention it during a moment when they are both having fun and not worry about Bea's mood changing.

No heavy feelings, no fear of breaking the joy bubble. Just another anecdote to laugh about.

#I can imagine Ava making all kind of jokes to make the conversation a little lighter for Bea #partially - the other part is just because she's Ava haha #and Bea joining her because her past might be hard - but sharing it with Ava is easy #and I also love that the whole 'you said it [you are royalty]' more likely comes from a misunderstanding #and that makes me curious about what Bea could've said that lead to that #ava silva #warrior nun #sister beatrice

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an-au-blog · 8 months

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I came up with a bad idea...

cw: kidnapping, abuse, suicidal ideations

After Rodger gets killed people find out that Shanks and Buggy were on the crew and decide: since they're kids, they'll be easy catch. They couldn't catch Shanks because... well... he's Shanks but they somehow manage to capture Buggy. It wasn't easy and it involved sea stones but they managed. The problem was this happened after the crew fell apart and after they had their fight with Shanks. So no one was going to look for him.

For years they try to get information on the one piece from him. And for years he's endured torture and abuse. He keeps telling them he got sick and couldn't go, but I started sounding like a stupid excuse even to Buggy, so he stopped talking all together.

He had spent his entire adult life in a small (what he supposed is an) underground cell with no food and running water and with the sea stone cuffs on him at all times.

One day the door busts down. His captors have never been so aggressive. He balled up in the corner, trying to be as quiet as possible but the clanking of his cuffs from how much he was shivering wasn't helping. There was a heavy atmosphere that lifted as he heard the boots that walked in.

These weren't the boots of his captors.

"Buggy?"

That wasn't the voice of his captor either.

Someone else from the back shouted happily "He's here!"

Just as Buggy though he was taken by another greedy bunch, the man behind him scooped him up enthusiastically into a hug.

Buggy did his best not to show his pain from the sudden movements or the brushing across his wounds. But then he felt something wet land on his shoulder where the man's head was nuzzled.

"I've been looking for you. Oh, I'm so happy I found you, Buggy!"

He pulled away to look at his face, the red hair looked so familiar but he didn't recognize him. He learned to block out anything from his past as a trauma response. But there was water streaming down this smiling man's face. Buggy had been left without water for three days as a punishment for his silence. So it was almost on instinct that he tried to collect or drink it.

Seeing Buggy like this broke Shanks. But after he was fed and watered, Buggy seemed a bit better. He was malnourished and the place where his cuffs were left a huge dent in his skin. It made him wonder how he didn't lose his hands from lack of circulation. Every piece of food was devoured and treated like it would have been taken away at any moment. It hurt. It hurt seeing this. It hurt thinking Buggy was avoiding him and finding out from some drunk a month ago that he wasn't and that he was kept all these years. How horrible could he be that it didn't cross his mind that this could happen. That he had to search for his friend.

After being fed and taken to the ship, Buggy kept staring at the ocean with awe.

Shanks wanted to leave him be. He couldn't blame him after all what is a sailor without the sea. But just as he turned around he heard a splash. He had fallen in. Shanks jumped to save him. After coughing up the water, Buggy stood up and jumped into the sea again. Shanks fished him out once more.

"Stop that! What is wrong with you, you'll die!"

But Buggy just laid there on the deck with a slight smile and teary eyes.

In the next few months, whenever Buggy wasn't sleeping there had to be at least one person watching him. Just in case.

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bidisasterevankinard · 1 month

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Wip Wednesday

guess who again started new wip? me. now I'm with big bucktommy + eddie angst. For now I titled it I'm not the only one(work title at least i think so) bc of the song i listed while wrote all the 1k+ words i have for now. Part of these words here for you

(song for the mood)

The date was incredible and the kiss only better :)

You’re amazing Tommy <3

Buck tries to deny the proof for just five more seconds, praying to Tommy’s phone to show something else. To change the letters to something less heartbreaking. But as mocking him the last message from Eddie comes.

You should tell Buck sooner

Now Buck knows all the weeks when he tried to reason with himself that Tommy and Eddie would never do it to him, that his boyfriend and his best friend would never betray him like that, the weeks when he tried to tell himself it’s was just his insecurities talking, were nothing more that him fooling himself in believing the best. Nothing good ever happens to him. And Tommy and Eddie never were met to be his forever.

Or they chose to not be his forever. But maybe each other's. And Buck would eventually forgive them for breaking his heart. He would forgive Tommy for choosing Eddie, and before Eddie was ready, trying to have fun with a good second option like him.

But he can never forgive them the betrayal he feels right now. He can never forgive them for how they made him feel loved and safe with them in a romantic and family way only to be humiliated and destroyed by both of them. What has he done to them that they decided that it is normal to have a romance behind his back? How could Tommy cheat on him weeks after he told him that he loved him and asked him to move in? How could Eddie after everything they go through together, after everything Buck has done to him, go and steal Buck’s boyfriend, who he knows Buck loves more than life?

How could they both come after their hang outs over last weeks and look him in the eyes, smile and be ok? How could Tommy kiss him when he most likely just had his tongue inside Eddie’s throat? And good thing if only the throat.

Buck feels sick. What if Eddie and Tommy had sex? The same days Tommy would come to him and fuck him? He feels so dirty just thinking about it.

He, with shaking hands, takes a photo of the messages on his phone and runs to the place where he knows he will be safe, where he can cry his heart out and find a permanent place to live while he looks at the new apartments for himself.

tagged by @devirnis @ebdaydreamer @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @wikiangela

Tagging @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbi-ckley @rogerzsteven @rainbow-nerdss @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @usereddie @pirrusstuff @aspecbuddie @saybiwithme @spotsandsocks @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie-im-bi @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @loserdiaz @bibuckbuckley @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @bewilderedbuckley @neverevan @monsterrae1 @sunshinediaz @bi-buckrights

#IT'S BUCKTOMMY FIC WITH SOME MISUNDERSTANDINGS BETWEEN BUCK AND TOMMY AND EDDIE #tommy and eddie are just bros #but #buck's insecurities and little secret between tommy and eddie made buck believe he was cheated #bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #my wips #I'm not the only one wip #Spotify

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itwoodbeprefect · 2 months

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stoic illiterate unwilling assassin deeply in love with unfailingly kind rich sad gay man almost stabs his crush's brother because the brother cares so much and so genuinely for the gay man that he searched assassin's room out of worry and found knives and a mysterious letter before being interrupted by the assassin who then does not want to show him the letter which seems incredibly suspicious, only for a later scene (after the gay man interrupts them and thus stops any escalation from happening) to quietly reveal that the very sus letter in possession of this illiterate assassin is not in fact a sign he's lying about being illiterate.... it's just two pages of him practicing the gay man's name over and over in neatly spaced lines...... a reveal which he was going to STAB a man over because he doesn't know that the gay man's brother knows the man is gay and loves him with his whole heart and would never ever do anything to hurt him........ i will never get over this, how could i ever get over this, everything else ever is going to be downhill from here

#yeah HI. if you are WONDERING. i am still being absolutely destroyed. utterly torn to pieces. smashed into a million happy little bits. by #to sir with love #it's not even the romance. though the romance is excellent and only getting better (and also hilarious. THE CHONBURI SCENES???)#but the siblings!!!! these brothers!!!!! everything in the world is trying to turn them against each other and every time i hold my breath #and every time!! without fail!!!! without hesitation even!!!!!! they go no. i love him and i trust him and he would never hurt me or i him.#and i CANNOT TELL YOU. how hard that's fucking me up. in the best of ways #it would be SO easy in a hiiiigh drama messy family show like this to go the easy route and just have the two sides of the family #actually fully at war with each other. or to have one of these brothers betray the other / let some misunderstanding fester #and 🤞🤞🤞 because i still have a good deal of show to go but so far. oh my goddddd. they choose each other. they choose each other always #anyway. if anyone reads this and is looking for some very high quality actually good soap melodrama. to sir with love is free on youtube

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nethhiri · 28 days

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Marooned: Chapter 38

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warning: Another all smut no plot chappie! (feat. Heat kinda; also feat. everyone's favorite: inappropriate use of devil fruit power)

Sticky Situations

It was only curiosity. You weren't a pervert. It's not your fault sound travelled easily through the walls. You were walking past Kid's cabin when some distinct noises beckoned you to press your ear against the door. Did people do this when me and Kid were...? Maybe you should bring up the subject of sound proofing certain rooms. There was a string of groans and grunts that sounded like Kid. The other person was Killer, telling Kid to relax. Heat rose to your face listening to Kid's cursing and demands that Killer go harder. You batted your ear, as it was starting to itch. Wait. In a split second, the door opened and Kid was tugging you in by the ear with his devil fruit.

"Tsk." Kid pointed to your ear, "Might wanna take that off if ya don't want me to know yer peeping outside the door."

Your eyebrows knit together, puzzled. "Why aren't you both naked?" Kid had his shirt off. That's it. And they didn't have time to get dressed before Kid pulled you in.

Kid barked out a laugh. "Forward aren't we? If ya want us, all ya hafta do is ask."

"No that's not-. I thought you guys were..." You made sex gestures with your hands and moved your eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Even Killer laughed at that. "I was helping Kid get a knot out of his shoulder."

Somehow this was more embarrassing than walking in on actual sex. "I see." Now the noises made sense. "I'll see myself out."

"Not so fast." Kid pulled you by the ear again until you were in front of him. "I know yer avoiding me since Killer spilled the beans that I was gonna yell at ya."

"Noooo." Lie. You weren't scared obviously. You really didn't want to get sucked into some kind of 'you need to be more careful' bullshit.

"I'm not gonna yell at ya."

"You're not?" Before you knew it, you were bent over his knee. "Hang on a minute. Let's talk about this."

"We could have if ya didn't avoid me." Kid tugged at your pants until your ass was exposed. "The time fer talking is over," he said with a sinister chuckle.

You played along gladly. The last thing you wanted was a serious conversation. You couldn't stop yourself from giggling. This would be fun. Snooping had its perks.

"Fuck ya giggling about?" Kid cracked you on the ass with his metal hand, hard enough to leave a mark.

You yelped. "I love when Captain Kid is mean t'me."

Killer crouched in front of you. "Count out loud or he starts over." He tapped the chin of his mask. "How many, Kid?"

"I think 10 should do it." Kid added, "Oh and ya can't heal it either or I'm gonna do it twice as hard next time."

Smack!

"One," you still giggled.

"I don't think you're doing it hard enough." Killer mused.

Smack!

"T-two." Your grin faltered.

Smack!

"Three."

By the tenth spank, the bottom of your ass was cherry red. Kid's hand was so big its print took up most of the space. Tears pricked at your eyes and you yelped at him even resting his hand on the tender area. It was going to have a nice bruise tomorrow.

"Not so funny now, is it?"

"No, Sir." He thwapped you again and you yipped. "What was that for?!"

"Fer being a little shit."

"Eleven. You didn't count that one." Killer looked at Kid. "Looks like you gotta start over."

"Wait that one didn't count! Please don't." You gave Killer your best puppy dog eyes and turned to look at Kid to do the same. "I'll be good. I swear."

Kid tugged your pants back up and flipped you up to sit on his lap, earning a whimper from you. He grinned, "What's wrong, princess?"

"We're not fucking?" Was this not foreplay?

"This a punishment. Fucking is a reward." Killer patted your head.

You stared at them incredulously. "You're kidding right?" They both had shit-eating grins across their faces. The real punishment was winding you up and doing nothing about it. You stood up angrily. "You wanna play this game? Fine." You were going to get them to crack before you. They wanted you to beg and you weren't going to let them have the satisfaction.

You left in a huff, nearly hitting Heat with the door as you left. You almost walked past him, turning on your heel to see his red face. You cocked your head. "Heat," you started in an accusatory tone, "what did you hear?" It was a bit hypocritical to be mad at him for being a pervert. You weren't mad. But maybe he could help you. Several thoughts went through your head: you could fuck him and get relief that way, he could help you concoct a revenge plan, possibly combine those two things in some way. You didn't want to make Kid and Killer jealous, you just wanted them to crack first.

"N-nothing." He wouldn't meet your gaze.

"Are you busy?"

He straightened up, "No. Can I... help you with something?" He wasn't going to say no to a quickie.

"I need intel."

It started with you wearing the tiny black leather shorts and the deep red corset top you had bought a while back with Heat. You knew it would drive Kid wild to see the bruising on your ass peek out from the legs of the shorts. Shorts was a strong word. They were closer to panties than shorts with the way your cheeks weren't completely covered. Heat didn't mind helping you. He would win, too, watching you slink around half-naked. You could feel Kid's eyes devour you from wherever he was. Another time, you wore a leather harness adorned with metal accents under your clothes, with panties to match. You knew Kid could sense the metal with his power and feel every curve along with your body heat. It was taking everything in him not to play with the metal bits, he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself. He was about to crack. What pushed him over the edge was the night you wore a metal butt plug and had a matching metallic egg in your pussy to dinner. Heat helped acquire the items from Kid's personal collection. Kid could feel every time you clenched to keep the egg from falling out and every time you squirmed for friction. He had broken out in a sweat on his forehead.

Kid was vulnerable to the obvious things. Killer was more difficult because his expressions were hidden and you couldn't tell if it was working. In the mornings you would ask if he needed to check and make sure you didn't heal the bruises. You took one of the shirts he had let you borrow and made it into a skin tight babydoll crop top with your fruit. You wore that, sans bra, and some little jean shorts once to help him in the kitchen, "accidentally" brushing against him whenever the opportunity arose. Another time, you enjoyed a popsicle when you were sunning yourself on deck while he happened to be at the helm. You about caused him to have a heart attack when one afternoon he came to prep dinner and found you sitting on the counter in a tiny skirt, legs parted just enough that he could see you didn't have panties on. What really got to him, was at the same diner that had Kid sweating, you sat across from him and rubbed at the crotch of his jeans with your feet. Heat let you in on a few fantasies that Killer had.

What did Heat get out of it? Well, you let him know when the plan was going into action so he could watch, using your fruit to make a tiny peephole in the wall across from Kid's bed.

Once you knew you had them, you excused yourself and let yourself into Kid's cabin. The smirk never left your face as you ran into Kid's closet to get one of his old feather coats. You were going to strip in the closet but wanted to pay Heat back appropriately. You donned Kid's coat and laid on his bed. You didn't have to wait long, as the door flew open and Kid stepped in with his first mate close behind. You didn't miss the way Kid's eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of his coat.

"What the hell do ya think yer doing?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Kid grabbed your chin. "Ya know exactly what I mean, doll."

You hummed with a smirk on your face, rolling on your back so the coat fell open.

Killer made a noise of appreciation before stripping his shirt and sliding behind you with his legs caging you in.

You almost regretted wearing Kid's coat because otherwise you would have been able to lean into Killer's bare chest. Still, you let your head rest on his shoulder, arching your back to push yourself up high enough to put your lips to his neck. The rough skin of his hands running down your body gave you goosebumps. They stopped to knead at your breasts, your hips, your thighs. It was clear Killer had a penchant for the fleshier parts of your body. Small moans left your lips as you pressed them against the skin of his neck, every so often giving him a nip. He moved your legs to rest on the outside of his, spreading you wide open. A thick finger circled your entrance, making you whine.

Kid sat at the foot of the bed, sans clothing, lazily stroking himself and watching Killer play you like a fiddle, using his powers to alternate moving the egg and plug around. Fuck you looked so good wide open, pussy glistening and Killer had barely touched you. He wasn't going to give in to your teasing until he saw you laid out in his coat. There was no way he could let that image go to waste. As soon as Killer was done finger fucking you, he was going to dive in face first. Kid didn't understand how Killer held out this long without fucking you proper, but if you had taunted him as well as you taunted Kid, he was probably close to giving in.

Killer could feel his dick throb in his jeans, leaking precum. Every time he felt your cunt clench against his fingers, his cock strained against its confines. He could feel you squirm more and more against him as he worked a second and third finger in. The hand that wasn't occupied was lightly closed around your throat. He liked listening to the way your moans get raspier when he added pressure.

"Killer... please." You rolled your hips into his hand, pressing your clit harder into his thumb. "M'close."

"Go ahead. Cum on my fingers. Cum so your captain can watch."

The low voice in your ear and the breath ghosting the skin of your neck sent you crashing over the edge. "Oh f-uck, Kill-er." He held your legs open as they threatened to squeeze together. You twitched as he pulled his fingers back, opening your mouth so you could suck the juices from them. You whined when they didn't come, looking down to see Kid cleaning them off instead, leaving red stains at the base of Killer's fingers. You hadn't even felt him climb up the bed.

Kid yanked you down a little so he could wrap his arms underneath your legs. "M'gonna wear this pussy like an oxygen mask," he said, more or less talking to himself. For a moment he took the time to appreciate the pink, glistening folds before him, engorged with the increased blood flow and the base of the plug snugly nestled between your cheeks. Then he went to work, groaning as the taste of your arousal hit his tongue. He wasn't kidding. Kid buried his face in your sex, dipping his tongue as deep as it would go, greedily lapping up the juices that spilled when you came. He moved the metallic egg in time with his rhythm, driving you insane. It made his cock hurt how badly he wanted to bury in your walls.

Your head rested on Killer's chest so you had a good view. It was a good thing Kid had you locked in place with his grip because you would be writhing all over the place with how intense the actions of his tongue and the use of his powers were. Every time you jerked away, he gave you a noise of displeasure, kind of a weak growl. The only time he withdrew his tongue was to bully your clit with it, making you buck when he grazed his teeth against it. Your previous orgasm made you incredibly sensitive, and he had you on the edge again already.

Killer was throughly enjoying how much you were enjoying yourself as he played with your breasts. He could tell by the way your breaths caught in your throat and the near incessant noises you were making, that you were close again. "Kid, she's gonna cum. Poor thing can't even form the words to tell you."

You whined, but he was right. It was embarrassing how quickly you melted for them. The wave of tingling heat overcame you almost immediately after he said that. You felt a brief flood of wetness and heard sloppy sounds as Kid worked you through your orgasm. You panted hard and opened your eyes. You saw Kid put his googles back on his forehead, apparently having moved them down at some point.

Kid saw you looking, "What? I was in the splash zone."

"I can't fucking stand you." You laughed.

"Hah?! What was that?" Kid tugged you right out of his coat, flipping you onto your stomach. He teased the butt plug and egg in and out a few times, before removing the egg completely and putting the plug firmly back in its place, earning a squeak from you. "Tsk, wee mouse is overstimulated, is she?"

Killer tossed the coat aside and scooted further down the bed. He grabbed you and laid back flat, so your chests were flush. Then you felt Kid on top of you. His weight sandwiching you against Killer was making you wild. If only Killer would take his pants off, it would be perfect. Kid hiked one of your legs up, burying himself in you. You both groaned at the feeling.

"I can still feel ya twitching on my cock, dirty lass," Kid teased. "Tell Killer how good I make ya feel. Maybe he'll finally let ya have it."

You buried your face in Killer's neck, moaning, as Kid started to fuck you. "Feels so good to be f-fucked by a big c-cock." You attacked the other side of Killer's neck so that he would marks to match the ones you had left earlier, taking breaks to moan dirty things in his ear. "Don't you w-wanna stretch me out, too?" You rubbed your hand against the hardness in his jeans. "Please. Please let me." You moaned louder briefly at a particularly hard thrust from Kid. "I love w-hen Cap'n makes me cum all over his c-cock." Even your own dirty words were affecting you. "Let me c-um on your cock, K-Killer." After that, you couldn't form any more sentences. Kid's brutal thrusts had you screaming into Killer's shoulder.

You felt Killer grab your wrist and guide your hand to his length, which at some point, had been partially freed. It was still within his underwear, though it was much more manageable when it wasn't under the tough denim. Gripping him through the fabric, you jerked him off. You could feel his girth pulse under your hand. Just thinking about having it inside you made your pussy clench. You whined in protest when Kid repositioned you, tugging your hips up and back, pushing your top half down. You couldn't wrap your hand around Killer at this angle, and with the way Kid was pounding your cervix into oblivion, at the same time playing with the plug, however you could feel Killer's erection against your stomach. Under your own cries of pleasure, you could hear soft huffs from under Killer's mask as the motions of Kid fucking you caused your stomach to rub against Killer. You felt his hips move as he rubbed himself against you even more. There was something so erotic about him so desperate to get off that he was thrusting against your stomach. That in itself caused the coil in your core to tighten, but when you heard him moan and felt his cock throb against you with a sticky sensation spreading on your skin, the coil snapped.

This orgasm was the most powerful one of the three that they managed to give you. You shook as the pleasure took over your body, cunt gripping Kid so tightly that it forced him to his own climax. He pulled your hips tightly to him and ground his cock up into you harder. Your mixed fluids spilled onto your thighs. You could feel your walls flutter with aftershocks. Rolling off Killer to the space next to him, you looked down at the mess on your stomach.

"Damn, Killer," You said, looking at the mess on his own stomach to match. Kid spread your knees to look at his fine work and bent down to press his tongue into your overly sensitive clit. You jumped and he laughed at you before trailing his tongue up to lick a stripe through Killer's semen.

Kid stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya wouldn't get so pent up like that if ya let one of us take care of ya more often." He looked like he was in thought.

You looked up at Killer. Smug with the fact that not only did you tempt him but you did it enough that he let you touch him, too.

He seemed to know what you were thinking and sat up, running a hand over your cheek. "Soon, breadcrumb."

You were both startled when Kid banged his fist against the wall. "Heat! Ya fuckin pervert!" Kid could sense the various metals that made up his outfit, caught the same way he caught you. He touched the small peephole. Kid squinted. "What's this?" He immediately rounded on you. "Yer a sneaky one. Now I get it."

Killer cocked his head to the side, intrigued by Kid's outburst.

Kid continued, "Yer working with Heat!" He looked at Killer. "Heat was helping her behind the scenes and she made it easier for him to watch in exchange!" Kid laughed darkly. "So that's how ya got yer hands on this," Kid used his magnetism to move the butt plug, getting you to yelp again. Kid nodded, clearly thinking about what to do with this information. He looked at you. "Ya wanna wear it so bad? Ya can keep it in until I tell ya to take it out."

It turned out, Kid had Heat in the same situation as you. Realizing it when you both paused at the same moments during the day when Kid decided to fuck with you, trying to contain twitches and moans. Or at meal times when you both jumped in your seat. One particularly good moment, which Kid was quite proud of, was when he made you and Heat spar, playing with both of you while you fought. He could tell you both went off somewhere together afterwards, probably to relieve each other. He released you from the punishment after that, satisfied with the show he got.

#I meant to just start the chap with a funny little misunderstanding and then it turned into a whole thing my bad #mini #x reader #eustass kid #one piece #massacre soldier killer #marooned #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #all smut no plot

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romance-rambles · 2 months

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modern alkaid | 319 roses and a date

Alkaid gets asked on a date by the girl he desperately wanted to ask out, at least before he found out who the flowers were for. You'd like to maintain that nothing you said was a lie.

2.8k, post-alkaid's florist ending [everything else happens the same way, except alkaid's first meeting with mc happens after godheim], misunderstandings + some angst, mc is reader, series: none

ALKAID STARES DOWN BLANKLY AT the bouquet of white roses in his hands. At some point during his stunned silence, he had unwittingly taken them off yours, just as you had hoped for.

All 319 of them, to be precise—which is a number that, put in a different context, can also refer to 3/19, the day of his birth. Even with the limited capacity he has at the moment to sort out the events that led up to this moment, he can't help the way his heart flutters at the knowledge that you remembered, even though so much time has passed.

"Alkaid?" A gentle tap against his shoulder robs the flowers of their spotlight. "Do you...not like the flowers?"

He looks up and sees you, still here—still dressed so beautifully he's once more in danger of succumbing to asphyxiation, with a fretful expression that makes him wonder if he's already there. When he does not respond, you close the remaining distance between them, obscuring all else from his vision.

It is a problem only because he has nowhere left to run.

"No," he croaks out finally, leaning back over the counter to accommodate you.

Obliviously, you move closer, leaving him with no choice but to avert his gaze once more. Alkaid can only hope you aren't offended—that you don't think he finds you unattractive, with how often he does so. It's only that your beaming smile reminds him of what it feels like to stare down the sun.

"They're lovely."

Satisfied with his answer, you pull back. Your hands are clasped behind your back, and your ponytail sways slightly, once more retreating behind your shoulder. There's an adorable star-shaped pin fastened onto the strap of your cross-body bag.

He sighs discretely, relieved, and pulls the bouquet up to his face as casually as he can. The petals, he hopes, will be enough to cover up the deep scarlet staining his cheeks.

"I'm glad!" You clap your hands together. "I was worried they wouldn't be to your liking. Maybe I should've asked you what your favorite flower was before I tried asking you out."

A self-deprecating laugh slips out as you scratch your cheek. An intricate design spans the length of your nail now—shades of red and green shaped into what he can clearly recognize as halves of a rose hugging the edges—against a black background.

Alkaid bites his lip, converting the interrupted gasp into a quiet exhale.

"You guessed right. I like white roses," he says, hoping desperately that his words are nothing less than reassuring. "Though they share that spot with lilies as well."

"Lilies," you repeat, a determined gleam in your lovely eyes. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

He bites his lip harder.

THE MORNING HE'S DUE TO hand off your flowers, Alkaid finds himself contemplating the benefits of coffee behind the register.

Though his favorite concealer and his usual color corrector have done much to brighten up his undereyes, they can do little for the grogginess that comes with staying awake the whole night (Why such a specific number? Who are they for? Do you remember him at all?). And, by the time the clock strikes nine, he's already downed three cups of strongly-brewed tea.

What pushes him to finally break away from his usual preferences is a simple headache.

The store is empty, and there remains more than half an hour before you're set to arrive. A sharp twinge of pain in the side of his head as he stands up to check on your flowers draws out a careful hiss. Alkaid, with some amount of lingering hesitance, flips the sign on his door to closed, with a note explaining the rough length of absence. Then he walks out the door, his destination the artsy cafe across the street—the one that makes him think of you whenever he walks in.

Allen, the normally deadpan barista on duty, seems to shut down when Alkaid corrects him on his order. Soon, the news spreads to the rest of the employees, who take turns staring at him as he leaves with a warm thermos of coffee in his hands.

But, in the end, it proves to be an unnecessary trip.

You're already in front of his flower shop when he returns, half-crouched and studying the sign the way someone might study a work of abstract art. Today, too, you have a large, dark blue backpack slung over both your shoulders, its surface decorated with various pins and stickers—mostly of a cat, your cat, but also of a popular manga that you seem to like.

In Passing, that is.

It's about a love triangle featuring a tyrant emperor and a well-liked leader of the rebellion. Even without the reviews praising it for subverting expectations, Alkaid would've picked it up anyway.

He's on the third volume right now, and—

Hmm? His eyebrows furrow. Where did I leave it? In my bag?

All of a sudden, the sleep that had been so insistent on dragging his eyelids down vanishes. Alkaid wracks his brain desperately for the answers, stomach churning at the thought of you finding out about his latest reading material.

Unfortunately, you choose that moment to turn around.

"Oh, Alkaid!"

Your confused expression soon melts away, leaving behind only a cheerful smile. Tightening his grip on his thermos, he exhales silently, before flashing you a gentle smile.

"You're here." Time stops as you begin to approach him, your keychains singing a short jingle to accompany you. Your expression softens, as does your voice. "You didn't forget about me, right?"

Alkaid can only sputter out a half-coherent apology.

The words get drowned out by the insistent, purposeful beating of his heart. It's as if it wants to claw itself out of his chest and entrust itself to your hands, as it is, with shattered bones sticking out of it.

You laugh prettily, as always. "It's okay. I'm just joking."

Then, like a moth to a flame, his gaze falls upon your lips. A soft red, with a glossy sheen, one that matches the color of your skirt. On a plain canvas, it's all the more striking. It leaves him wondering about things he, currently a stranger, shouldn't be fretting over.

He's not sure how long he stares for, with slightly parted lips and a series of half-realized thoughts chiding at him to stop—only that it's not long enough for you to grow uncomfortable.

Alkaid clears his throat, holding up his thermos (I should've bought her something too, he thinks) as an explanation. "I apologize for the wait. I went over to the cafe across the street."

"Coffee lover?" you guess, making room for him to open the door.

"I'm usually more of a tea person." As he slips inside the store, he can't help but chuckle self-consciously, remembering all the different ways he imagined this scene playing out. Naturally, his next words are nothing more than the most blatant lie he's ever told. "I thought I'd try something else for a change."

"Is it a nice place?" Upon seeing the puzzled look he sends over his shoulder, you clarify, "The cafe. I've seen the reviews, but I think only experience can beat the testimony of someone you know."

He considers your question for a moment. "The staff is very friendly. I often stop by during lunch for their sandwiches."

"I see..." you murmur.

"I think you'd like it," Alkaid blurts out as he slips in behind the register, happy to note that his copy of Volume 3 is, in fact, in his bag. "The owner enjoys collecting art—there's a lot of different paintings all over the cafe. Um, since you're an art major."

"Well, now I have to try it out." You don't seem particularly startled that he knows about your major; instead, you take to drawing patterns across the wooden countertop. He thinks he sees the familiar curve of an A. "The cookies you recommended last time were really great too."

When he keeps his silence, the complete opposite of what the state of his mind currently is (she remembers?), you look up.

"Hmm?" You tilt your head, confusion clouding your once smiling expression. "Do I have the wrong person? You're Alkaid, right? From that time in the snow mountains?"

He forces himself to nod, but that too is enough.

A shy smile blossoms on your lips, paired with both a brief flash of relief flitting through your gaze and the slight, almost imperceptible widening of your eyes. Placing your hands above your heart, you sigh exaggeratedly.

"You had me worried for a moment," you say. Your eyelashes cast a dark shadow on your undereyes. "I thought we'd never meet again."

For a moment, he wonders if there's more to your sorrow than you let on. Does it have anything to do with the way you disappeared? Somewhere so far away that no one could reach you at all?

Alkaid shakes off his thoughts.

"But we did," he responds carefully. I never thought we'd meet again either, he does not say instead. "Whether it was destiny, whether it was just a coincidence, we did. All we can do is make the most of it."

A tinge of sadness mars your lovely smile. "I think that sounds lovely."

SOON AFTER THEIR REUNION, DONE properly this time, down to exchanging numbers, Alkaid excuses himself to go fetch your flowers. When he returns, lovesick heart brimming with curiosity over the recipient's identity once more, he finds you've returned to doodling on the counter.

"Here they are, 319 white roses," he announces.

There's a blank expression on your face when you look up. Slowly, as recognition dawns upon you, it melts away to something bitter and rough. Its jagged edges dig into his his heart, leaving a paralyzing mix of sadness and longing to wash over him.

And then—

"Thank you," you say, and take the flowers off his hand.

His hand twitches, yearning for the camera he still keeps in his backpack, for the days where he feels like memorializing something instead. Lovely is the only word he has to describe you as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and pull the bouquet close with a faint smile.

Then, you close your eyes, and you inhale deeply. Once more, you are somewhere else—somewhere far, somewhere he can't reach.

"Ah, sorry." You crack one eye open. Now, the bouquet is clutched against your chest, but your sadness remains. "I guess I'm a bit nervous. I don't know if he'll like the flowers."

He? From some far corner of his mind, he recalls the image of your guardian. A tall man, with long silver hair and a pleasant, but guarded expression. Cael, he thinks is the name.

"For your guardian?" Alkaid inquires.

Your smile drops entirely at the mention of your guardian. A complicated series of emotions flash in your gaze, soon averted to one of the potted plants at the display. Scratching your cheek, you offer him a polite laugh.

Today, only some of your nails are a plain black. The rest remain bare.

"No, it's not for Cael." You answer carefully. "Actually—"

Looking down at the flowers, you take a deep breath. When next you speak, your voice has reclaimed the softness it'd shown him earlier—your searching gaze as well. You leave him with the truth, imparting it onto him like a mischievous secret.

"There's someone I'd like to ask out."

His stomach drops, and you leave him with the memory of lovelorn smile, forever imprinted behind his eyelids.

"I hope he says yes."

[3:00 PM] you: Alkaid, do you have any plans tonight?

[3:17 PM] alkaid: No, I'm free

[3:21 PM] alkaid: Did something happen?

[3:22 PM] you:

[3:22 PM] you: I haven't asked him out yet. Gonna do it soon

[3:23 PM] you: All of my other friends are busy rn.

[3:24 PM] you: Is it okay if I stop by after you close up shop?

[3:24 PM] you: I'd want to talk to someone about it

[4:31 PM] alkaid: Of course

SOMEHOW, ALKAID MANAGES TO GET through the rest of the day.

His heart is held together haphazardly with duct tape and carefully-placed staples, though their efforts are thwarted constantly by a popular refrain (You hardly know him. Of course there's someone else.), and he's one stubbed toe away from being reduced to tears, but he manages. Somehow.

He swallows down his what-ifs and maybes and waits, watching the hands on his wristwatch inch ever closer to six in the evening. And eventually, the vaguely promised time arrives.

As he's stepping out from behind the register, a familiar chime echoes cuts through the silence. Alkaid looks up and sees you, dressed still in red and black, your turtleneck and skirt swapped out for a knee-length dress.

"Hi."

The bouquet of white roses—held in both hands, a stark contrast to the black leather jacket you're wearing—covers up its neckline. You smile sheepishly at him, pulling at the mesh of your bright red skirt to mimic a curtsy.

You're beautiful. Even the flowers surrounding them pale in comparison. Even the aurora they'd seen together pales in comparison. You rob him of his breath and leave gasping for a reprieve, but so long as he keeps his memory in even the smallest capacity, that's simply impossible.

The familiar knife called jealousy stabs into his heart, leaving him keenly aware of his longing. He averts his gaze, but the damage has already been done. You are beautiful, and he has waited years to see you.

"Hi." Alkaid swallows uncomfortably, as the sound of your footsteps draws closer. In a panic, his hands brace themselves against the edge of the counter. "Was something wrong with the flowers? I thought—"

A mysterious expression sits upon your features when you pull his gaze onto you, seemingly oblivious to your magnetic power.

With a deep breath, you thrust the flowers at him, knuckles brushing against his chest. You pull back for a moment, taking your flowers with you, and the soft coral of your blush makes it difficult to discern whether you find yourself a victim the of same scarlet blooming across his cheeks.

"That's—" You cough politely. There's a heart-shaped pendant dangling from your golden necklace. The dress is either strapless or your jacket has covered up the straps. "—what I'm here to find out."

Alkaid tilts his head. His confused gaze darts across his surroundings and stops at the glass window of the store's display, thinking perhaps that your mystery boy might be outside. But while the streets are not barren, there is no one outside his store.

You say his name in the same way you told him your secret. Like it's something precious. Like it's something you love. And the truth begins to settle into his bones with a finality that deafens the half-coherent puzzle pieces he's been trying to fit together—he is the only one you could possibly ask out in this empty store.

He has no choice but to look back. At you, and the bouquet you're offering him.

"Would you like to go to the movies with me?"

AND THAT IS HOW HE finds himself with the beginnings of a bruise forming on his lip. He doesn't mind, not when the sting he feels as he wets his lip reminds him that this is not, in fact, a dream (It feels like it though, he thinks), nor a fantasy.

"You...you don't have a girlfriend, do you? It's been a while since then..."

You rub your arm lightly, muttering about something he can't understand, and what else is Alkaid meant to do but take your hand? He squeezes it gently, tickled to find that he can return the favor for all the times you've stolen his breath away.

Your lips part slightly, but whatever you hoped to say does not leave the confines of your mysterious mind. Instead, you draw some of your hair from both sides over your flushed cheeks.

"Nothing like that," he reassures, smiling gently at you. "I'm just surprised. I didn't realize you were talking about me."

"That's a reli—what." In a single moment, your voice goes from girlishly breathless to an irritated flat. Releasing your hair, you blink uncomprehendingly at him. "How?"

Watching you descend into another muttered ramble, Alkaid shrugs. "If you'd still like that date..."

You whip your head in his direction. "Then it's a date!"

The first time he met you, it was when you had fished out of the snow and offered him a warm drink to fight off the cold. They had talked about miscellaneous things, from your half-hearted desire to request a camera for your birthday to who could make the better model between them both.

And back then, he had thought to himself that there was no sound more beautiful than your laugh.

Almost four years after the fact, as he watches you giggle, Alkaid can confidently say his past self had the right idea. Such a specific title leaves him with room to declare your follow-up smile to be just as breathtaking.

#fics by aya #lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles x reader #alkaid mcgrath #alkaid mcgrath x reader #lovebrush alkaid #lovebrush alkaid x reader #lbc alkaid #lbc alkaid x reader #little painter #rambles from here on ->#i feel like lars has the common sense not to act like a ceo in a manhwa but i really do think cael would think this is fine #i feel like he'd probably be like “this is the least i can do”#that said i am curious if mc paid for those flowers with her own money?? is her mom rich too #i feel like she'd still be funded by lars (because fan) LOL he also coached her on how to ask alkaid out it's the blind leading the blind #should i write mc's pov too LOL #this was just supposed to be silly little misunderstandings and now there's ANGST and BACKSTORY and MORE ANGST

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