Do you like shapeshifters, epic quests, magic, dark forests, and obstinate princes? Well, have we got an exclusive excerpt for you!
Forestborn is an upcoming @torteen novel by debut author Elayne Audrey Becker. Becker graduated from Vassar College with a BA in classics and history. She is currently continuing her education at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland after time spent as an editor with a New York publisher. She grew up with a lake and woods as her backyard, spending long days outside and visiting national parks with her family.
Forestborn will be available at bookstores everywhere from August 31. Read the exclusive excerpt below, and thanks again to Elayne for sharing her inspiration moodboard with us!
Forestborn By Elayne Audrey Becker
I find her deep in the Old Forest, facedown in the dirt.
Sharp pain needles my palms where I’ve balled my fists so tight, the nails have carved half-moon marks into the skin. Snaking across the twig-strewn ground, gnarled roots press against my boots like a warning as I roll the young woman onto her back. Best to be sure.
No, she is certainly dead. Cold, stiff, and hungry like the rest; even with forest debris masking much of her shirt, the threadbare cotton dips in unmistakable rivulets across her bony frame. I swallow my disappointment and push her eyelids shut, wanting to spare her kin the sight of those empty, pointless eyes.
“Sorry,” I murmur, sitting back on my heels. “I’m guessing you didn’t deserve this.”
Around us, the trees lean inward and down with ominous uniformity, leaves and branches straining against their holds, drawn to the dead woman as if tethered by ropes. The sway, the humans call it. I ignore the prickling in my belly. They’ll straighten out soon enough when the magic leaves her body.
With a final nod, I push to my feet and wend my way back to the forest’s edge. It’s a close wood, with broad oaks in summer bloom crowding the grassy floor, their leafy canopy admitting shafts of sunlight that glitter like crystal chandeliers. All in all, too peaceful a setting for someone driven to madness to die alone. I breathe it in deep to savor the scent while I can, grateful that for whatever reason, these trees never seem drawn to the magic in my own blood. I’ve had enough of vengeful wilderness to last a lifetime.
“Well?” Seraline asks, her knuckles nearly white where they clutch the hem of her shirt.
I shake my head. “Dead.”
Her shoulders sink. Though Seraline is sturdy as iron when she’s in her aunt’s tannery, shaping leather into draft horses’ yokes, standing a determined two paces behind the tree line now, she seems shakeable as snow.
“Come on,” I say, nodding to the stony town just across the open fields. “You’re going to be late.” I don’t ask if she plans to examine the body for herself. Seraline may have insisted on coming as a show of support, but our friendship has many limits, her discomfort with the dead and dying the least of them.
After a brief hesitation, Seraline falls into step at my side, sweeping her seeing stick across the ground in broad strokes. “Poor thing.”
I nod, my jaw clenched tight.
This time of year, the late summer air hangs heavy even in the early morning, enough that the back of my neck is already slick with sweat. The barley fields remain mercifully empty as we pick our way through the dusty rows, but still I plow forward with my head down and shoulders bent, half from habit and half spurred by the hour. Seraline isn’t the only one who’s running behind.
“Will you not come with us?” she asks, her head tipping to the side as we near the town. “Aren’t you due back in Roanin, anyway?”
“I can’t,” I reply, making it sound like an apology. I’m not really sure why we still play this game when we both know it’s futile. “I have a few things to take care of first.”
“Today of all days,” she snorts.
“You know how it is.” In truth, I’d give my right arm to stay away from the capital today. But there’s no help for it.
“Her husband deserves to know,” Seraline adds after a while. “The two of them were inseparable.”
“He will know. The trail wasn’t hard to follow.”
Seraline is always trying to persuade me to talk to the deceased’s families. She believes I have a softer manner than many in uniform, and once she even called me heartless for refusing. That time hurt the most. But it isn’t my job to report any deaths I uncover to next of kin. Only to the king. And it’s not like she’s stepping up to volunteer, anyway.
Briarwend is a humble farming town that stretches all of three streets, a collection of squared off stone shops that deal in necessity rather than charm. Its weather-worn residents are the same. When I began seeking intel here four years ago, long days tending the surrounding fields made the people lazy and open over a couple of pints. Lately, they’re just hungry, poor soil and rising taxes leaving gaping holes that only tempers seem to fill.
Each night under dwindling lamplight and over stained, sticky tables, the pub dwellers deal out anger and judgment like tossing seeds across the earth. The battered forest walker I helped home last night is not the only magical person I’ve found bleeding on cobbled streets. The humans’ anger is growing fists.
Seraline’s family is fixing their horse’s harness to an old wooden cart when we reach their cottage home. Most others have long since departed.
“Where have you been?” her mother demands, tightening the leather straps. The roan mare stamps a hoof, ears flicking nervously in my presence. “We should have left hours ago!”
“Lela needed my help. And you’re not ready, anyway.” Seraline shrugs.
“Nor are you. Breakfast is gone, so you’ll just have to wait. Go get changed.” She studiously avoids my eye, as if I’m not even there.
Seraline bids me farewell with a light touch on the shoulder, which causes her little sister to quickly interlace two pairs of twisted fingers and pull them apart. The sign to ward off bad fortune.
“You shouldn’t indulge my sister,” the dreadful Arden says once she’s gone, stomping over and swiping a greasy hand across his forehead. By far the weakest sibling in this family of four. “Seraline is delicate. She can’t be tramping about the kingdom with the likes of you.”
Which is ironic, really, since he was eager enough to sidle close last year, when he thought empty flattery might earn him a kiss. That was before a too-often empty belly soured his tongue, before he learned who and what I was. And though I truly could not care less what this boy thinks, I’m dismayed to find my stomach still burns with anger and something close to shame. My gaze drops to his pant leg, which bears splotches of dried blood from the night before.
“Problem?” Arden sneers, white skin burned red from long days in the sun.
A slow tingling feeling bubbles up from my core, threads of numbness that tiptoe across my arms and legs. I force myself to breathe deeply, to beat the threads back. “I know it was you,” I mutter.
He traces his chapped lips with two fingers, beady eyes darting to his mother before he leans forward, his smile stiffening. “You know nothing,” he hisses.
“You forget I have certain resources at my disposal.” I raise a hand in front of his flaking face, where my nails have sharpened into claws. “And that I know where you live.”
I stare until a satisfying trace of fear tinges Arden’s expression before stomping away toward the town’s single inn, which is little more than a guesthouse with four creaking rooms. If Helos were here, he would tell me to not take the bait, that I’m better than that. What he never seems to understand is that I’m not better than anything at all.
Request: Alright I have a request, so like monarch techno is pretty cool but what if he had a royal guard and asked them to taste test the food and it practically turned into a date because he just keeps feeding them.
A/N: I had a hard time writing this one, but I hope you like it all the same!
You did your duty, protecting your lord, the King of the Nether… The one and only Blood God. He didn’t need you by a long shot, he could protect himself, but he chose you as his head knight, his bodyguard. You had come to accept that you would probably just serve as a meat shield to him when the time came and nothing more. This was one of his sleepless nights, and you had to stay by his side. Being head knight meant more responsibilities… And very little sleep.
You stood by the door of the dining hall, as your king waited for his food. Parts of the blackstone floor were shining red from the light the windows let in. That light shone over the king, as he seemed to be in thought. He held his chin in his hand as he stared off into space. Nights like these weren’t too bad, the King was always quiet… Always in his own head… He intrigued you.
Well… He did more than intrigue you… You spent many overworld moons pining after the hybrid King. He treated you like a dear friend, speaking to you as an ally not as a servant. But that could always be your mind playing tricks on you. So… You settled for servant, ready to lay your life down for him always.
You tensed, your hand on the hilt of your sword as the doors opened revealing a maid with a silver platter in her hands. Her heels clacked on the blackstone, as she made her way over to the king. Setting the platter in front of him. She curtsied, a blush forming on her face. She was one of the new maids of the castle. His bored eyes settled on her as he waved her off, dismissing her.
You kept your eyes forward as she left. The sound of her heels receding into the depths of the castle. The king looked at the dome that covered the food on the platter and he removed it, revealing his steaming hot supper. Your body straightened as he called your name.
“Will you please test this for me?” His golden eyes sought you out and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. “You never know when someone… wants to poison the king.” So… you were now… a taste tester?
“My lord?” You were confused. “Isn’t that the chef’s job?” You questioned. Oh, to be reduced to nothing more than a… poison detector…
“I don’t see him out here.” The king kept his eyes on you, as he waved you over.
“At your command… Sire.” Your words were almost bitter. You wanted to lay your life down for him but dying to poison was not an honorable way to die for your king… Making your way to the table he motions for you to sit down, and you do. He sat at the head of the long dining room table and you sat at his right side. You lean forward, grabbing his utensils, you start carving off a piece of the steak that lay on the platter. You take your bite of his steak, feeling his eyes watching you. You swallow, enjoying the taste. Nothing seemed amiss, so you put his utensils down next to the plate.
“What about the rest of the meal?” His words were soft, as he motioned toward the bread, the potatoes, and the carrots on his plate. “Can’t afford to have the King die now, can we?” You deadpanned, was he… taunting you? You weren’t sure you appreciated that… You looked down at the seemingly harmless food in front of the both of you.
“No, my lord…” You grumbled taking his fork in hand once again. Stabbing the fork into the carrot, the king’s eyes stayed on you as you raised the carrot to your mouth, you were starting to feel self-conscious… But this was for the safety of the king, it was your duty to protect him. When you had tasted everything that was left on his plate you pushed the plate back to him, standing up from your chair.
“Did I dismiss you?” Your king's voice rang out in the dining hall and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You had heard that tone of voice from him before and while you were glad it was never directed at you, well… before now… Why in the hell were you so aroused when it was??? You shook your head sitting back down in your chair slowly. He rang a bell signaling the maid from before, asking her to bring another platter of food. He watches her leave before his eyes slide over to you.
“Now…” His eyes settled on you, almost in a demanding way. “Since it seems that you do not like the food that I have to offer you… I’ll let you off easy. Your punishment shall be you finishing that plate of food since you don’t seem to like it.” You looked up at him quizzically, questioning him. His cheeks burned a deep red, and you let out a laugh, falling back in your chair.
“Forgive me my lord but… Did you plan this?” The way the King looked away told you, yes… This was exactly what he was trying for. He was silent for a few seconds, his eyes eventually meeting yours.
“…It’s been on my mind for a while… I just… couldn’t find the time to ask you. I couldn’t get you alone to ask you…” The king looked away, embarrassed. “Being king is busy enough, but you’re always workin’ on ways to protect the castle, I chose you for that reason… You are an amazin’ fighter, fightin’ by your side has and always will be a pleasure.” Your heart pounded, and butterflies made their rounds in your stomach.
“You couldn’t have just requested an audience with me?” Techno shook his head, as he leaned up onto the table, his eyes leveling with yours.
“Too many pryin’ eyes.” He looked down at his hands. “The… voices quiet down when I’m with you…” His cheeks burned as he took to studying his hands too closely, long nails tapping at the mahogany table. “I feel at peace with you.” The voices… He told you about his voices, made you swore not to tell anyone, for only you and Phil knew about them. It could be used as a weakness against the Nether King. You felt honored that he would even tell you.
“My lord?” You bent forward trying to catch his eyes.
“It is a knight’s duty to die for their king…” He didn’t meet your gaze, “I don’t want that for you.” Heartrate rising, you grip the arms of the chair you sat in. “The king isn’t supposed to want to die for the knight should the time ever rise...” It seemed like Techno had a lot of inner turmoil he was working through. “I don’t want to lose you.”
With that, Techno stood abruptly, the chair letting out a groan against the blackstone flooring as he stands, he quickly kneels in front of you, just like you knelt in front of him when you were knighted. His pink hair and red cape pooling around him as he bows his head to you. You… were stunned. How were you supposed to react to this? Gods forbid anyone see this right now.
“I may be a king, but that doesn’t mean anythin’, not when it comes to provin’ my worth to you.” Techno let out a shaky breath. “I pledge myself to you, mind, body and soul… If you’ll have me?” His eyes flit to your sword that hung on your hip. “Strike me down if I am unworthy.” You swore you could melt at this scene.
“Techno…” The word felt strange on your tongue, you had never called him by his name before, well, not to his face anyway. Your hands slowly make their way to his face, the pads of your fingers swiping over his scarred face, as you lift his chin to look in his eyes. Without a word, you lean forward in your chair, the creak of the wood echoing out through the room as you did so. You pressed your lips to his, letting out a soft groan. This felt amazing, like the two of you were made for each other.
You went forward off of the chair, your knees hitting the floor as you pressed yourself deeper into him and his kiss, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, the size of his body enveloping you. Tangling your fingers into his hair you felt tears springing forth. This man, who had pulled you out of battles to heal you with the finest potions, who treated you as an equal rather than a peasant, really thought he was unworthy of you. Your head spun at the thought.
You pulled back for air, leaning your forehead against his. Eyes locked as the two of you regained your breath, your fingers still entangled in his locks. You loved the way his hands felt as they glided over your form. You were sure it would feel better once your armor was off, but for now this would have to do.
“Be mine?” Techno looked for confirmation, and when you nodded his grip tightened on you. “Even with a whole kingdom to take care of?”
“I’m yours,” You whispered it in his ear as you rested your head on his chest, taking in his scent. He was everything you wanted and more. The door of the dining hall opened once more and that was when the two of you split from each other standing from your position on the floor. The maid from before, taking note of both your hands intertwined in the others. The both of you were nothing but shy smiles as you moved your seat closer to his and you both ate the meal in front of you. Random conversation playing in the wind.
There were preparations to be made. Changes to be had, but that was fine, just as long as you stood by your king… Technoblade.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit. 18+, minors DNI
Words: 3.9K (look at me writing something shorter than 15k, huh?)
Warning: Semi-public sex. Anal play (fem receiving). Love.
Description: A short version of Hotch's POV from Chapter 1 of Bittersweet ("Accidents" Part 5). Link to the full series in my masterlist - will probably make most sense if you’ve read those first 💕
(Warning: Very NSFW below the cut! 18+)
There were a lot of reasons why Aaron loved you.
The bigger things, of course, such as your intelligence, your sharp humor, and your heart. Your unbridled compassion for the whole world, however undeserving at times, where Aaron occasionally filed himself in the latter category. Just occasionally though, not all the time anymore. Not after you had made it so blatantly clear how good you thought he was and he found himself striving to live up to those expectations. Surprisingly, it worked.
So yes, the bigger things were almost self-explanatory for why he loved you. Why anyone would love you, really, if they got the chance. Then there were all the little things. Small drops accumulating all the time, like water on a mountainside patiently eroding the seemingly impenetrable rock. One drop after the other until the dam broke and Aaron finally realized he loved you, even if he had done it for some time already. How you hummed to yourself if you thought no one was around, how you always stretched right after waking up, and how you lit up at the sight of him without noticing it yourself.
It was subtle, of course, especially when you were at work. But after Morgan had deftly pointed it out to Aaron — who had asked how the infamous bet started — it was impossible to ignore. He could see how other people on the team had picked up on it. It sometimes made it unbearable to maintain the rigid professionalism you had agreed on at work because now Aaron noticed it all the time. Whenever you walked into a room, you would seek him out first. A small glance, maybe a split second at most, but always there. At home, in more relaxed surroundings, you dropped your guard down further and he could see how your pupils dilated when you caught his eye. And lately, you got that small smile on your lips too, a smile that had Aaron convinced he would do absolutely anything for you.
It was that smile of yours that had made him bold enough to say those three words for the first time back at his kitchen. After that unsub clocked you with a two-by-four and Aaron had to physically restrain himself from beating up a local SWAT officer. Your reaction to those three words had not been as he hoped for, at least not at first, but it had improved quickly. He had come to realize that although you were — like him — keenly intelligent and —also like him — profiled people for a living, you were just as stupid as he was when it came to love. Just as human and vulnerable. There was something incredibly reassuring about that and in all honesty, it just made him love you more.
It meant he had to work harder though, to make you realize how serious he was about this. About this relationship, about you. This promotion they offered you, the one that forced him to squash down his selfish desires to keep you close at all times, was a good thing. It was good for you, and where he had let Haley play the second fiddle in favor of his career and his goals, he was not going to subject you to the same. He could be supportive — he wanted to be supportive — and if that meant sacrifices on his part, so be it. Hopefully, you’d realize he was serious about both this relationship, but also that he took you seriously. As a person, a partner, and a profiler.
The forced hierarchy from your jobs should not and would not seep into any other areas of your lives together.
All of these things had been clear in his mind when you stormed into his office earlier, kicking the door shut, and demanding answers. He loved that about you too. How brazen you could be and that you were comfortable enough around him now to be brazen, even here. Time had gone by quickly, but he could recall just like yesterday when he had held an impromptu performance review here in his office. When he had tried — in vain — to lay down some boundaries, but still found himself unable to say outright that this couldn’t happen. You and him? Impossible for so many reasons. The age difference, your jobs, his son — so many obstacles that had been swept away by those steady drops of water. Things he eventually forgot were obstacles at all unless someone pointed it out for him.
And as he watched you chew your bottom lip raw — so obviously conflicted about this offer and so obviously looking for some kind of permission from him to take it — he realized he would do anything for you. Maybe that was why it had happened? He certainly hadn’t planned it, but seeing your wet eyes after he asked you to move in — again, not the reaction he planned for — he had acted on instinct. Anything to turn that confusion into something simpler.
It started as a kiss. Just a simple gesture of affection and a physical distraction. And perhaps your boldness had rubbed off on him or all those whispered confessions how you fantasized about being bent over his desk played a part, but the next thing he knew, he had pushed his hand up the skirt of your dress. By then it was too late to back down. The way your breath hitched when his fingers brushed against the silken part of your inner thigh skipped through both ears and brain and lodged straight into his libido. And then that perfect mouth of yours had dropped open when he ran his finger against the thin material of your underwear. Using his trigger finger to carve out that well-defined slit marking the entrance to something downright holy — he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to, and despite your half-hearted pleas, you didn’t want him to stop either.
You hadn’t been wet to start with, but it took seconds before he felt the fabric dampen. Blood rushing to swell your lips and that tight bundle of nerves he loved to rub, suck, and bite when the occasion called for it. He thought he could tell the difference with each of your heartbeats and he’ll admit he got lost in the moment.
A calculated risk on many levels, but when you shuddered and tightened around his fingers — two of them pumping into you with sloppy wet sounds — he knew he would have come in his pants if he’d been twenty years younger. Sometimes he hated that he was noticeably older than you, other times he silently thought it gave him the opportunity to show you the sexual experiences you deserved. He had another kind of patience now than when he was young, another kind of appreciation for giving as well as receiving pleasure, and let’s face it, another kind of stamina. Not necessarily better, but different.
The sight of you fully dressed, knees knocking against his where he caged you in the chair, and with a glow to your cheeks would forever be burned into his retina. He’d never able to see anyone sit in that chair again without remembering this moment and he was unable to decide whether or not that was a good thing.
It was at least part of the reason why he stayed hard — rock hard, so uncomfortably strained against the stretchy materials of his boxers — even while driving to the city. Trying and wanting to make good on his offer for lunch. And he could smell the faintest wafts of your juices on his fingers and that didn’t help one bit. For a second he had been tempted to let you help him as you had offered — unzip and lean back as far as possible in the seat, pushing your head down and feeling the rasp of your teeth when he pushed too hard at one point. No. He had tried, he told himself, to make this about you. All about you.
There was still a limit to his willpower.
“Aaron,” you had said when the car was parked, the forest empty besides the two of you. As if nothing really existed outside the two of you. Your lips were swollen from his kiss where you leaned halfway over the console. Your eyes were heavy-lidded and focused on him, pinning him in place with your unbridled sincerity. “You just need to decide if you want me to suck your dick or not before you fuck me.”
It took less than a minute before he was shoving his dick into your wet and open cunt where you laid splayed over the passenger seat in the SUV. The door stood wide open to allow him access to you, with the chill of the Virginia forest whispering across the bare skin of his thighs and yours alike. Outdoors, in the middle of the day, when you both were supposed to be at work and not fucking like two teenagers at the end of a forest road. You with that fancy dress rucked up to your midriff, and him with his pants and boxers nestled around his ankles. He didn’t even bother stepping out of them, working with what he had and shoving himself into you through the car door.
The agent and the lawyer in him mumbled something vague about indecent exposure, but drowned out at the sight of you throwing your head back when he snapped his hips forward, your wet open lips pressed against and around him. You weren’t even worried. Another part he loved about you. Spontaneous, risk-taker, daredevil — call it whatever the hell you wanted, but he loved it. It. You. He loved you.
It always felt like the first time when he pushed into you, that heated way you almost sucked him in, squeezing around his dick like a tight fist. Pure velvet fire consuming his dick, and his fingers scrambled for hold, searching for those soft parts of your body that yielded to his grip. He could feel your insides tighten whenever he hit a particularly good point and he kept the pace brutal because you asked him to. At least he thought you did — you at least swore incessantly and it was hard to tell the fuck me’s from the ordinary fuck’s. You always swore like this when you didn’t have to be quiet — and sometimes even then — and it was all breathless and beautiful and he strived to give you everything you wanted. Everything he had.
He loved the way he could see your breasts bounce even under that tight dress he had all but tricked you into wearing today. And when you had to turn around, he loved the way your ass jiggled every time he thrust into you. He loved the way his fingers fit on your body, how pliant it was, somehow always making room for him — be it his fingers, his dick, or his tongue.
You made a spectacular sight and he didn’t know where to focus. On the faint reflection in the window on the other side where he could see your eyes tightly closed and mouth hanging open. On the curve of your waist, flaring up to your hips where his hands held you. On the ripple passing through your thighs and ass cheeks every time he went all in so his balls smacked against your undoubtedly swollen clit. Or on your puffy wet lips gripping around his dick in rhythm to his hips snapping forward, a clear mirror of how your other lips looked like when they locked around his cock.
His mind felt blank and he was aware he was saying something. Trying and failing to put his thoughts into words, mostly groaning your name and saying how beautiful you were over and over again. Because you were. Jesus Christ, you were. It was partially as a distraction for himself when he reached around to find your clit — two fingers, pulling the hood back a fraction so he could move better around it — because he wanted to fill you up now.
He wanted to pump you so full of his cum you’d feel it for the rest of the day. It was a little caveman-ish, but he was done trying to deny he loved seeing his white spend pool out of your hole. A claim, a mark, an undeniable sign of where he’d been. Of what you’d done together and how you’d let him use your pussy. The only thing that could compare was seeing it in your mouth, a small pearly shimmer of something that was his gliding over your tongue.
This distraction wasn’t working. Fuck. Aaron felt the drops of sweat run down his back — despite all his cardio, his dress shirts were tight and warm now with the brutal pace he’d set. God, you were exquisite. Knees spread wide on the seat, bottom of your ass resting on your ankles on either side of his thighs. Wide-open and fucking gorgeous. He wanted to make you come around his dick again. He needed to make you come around his dick again. To feel what only his fingers felt earlier, how you’d squeeze and pulsate and buck your hips to get deeper and more. Fuck.
His tie hung loosely over your back and occasionally censored you from his view. Breathing hard, Aaron flung it away and — acting on some kind of instinct or just pure debauchery — he pooled spit in his mouth and let it drop down so it hit that perfect little asshole of yours. You obviously felt it — he heard both a gasp and had to increase his grip so you wouldn’t fly right off his dick, but most of all he saw how you tightened and that little asshole became momentarily smaller. Fucking exquisite. He checked your reflection in the window, saw the full-on mask of pleasure, and more blood left his head to pump into his dick so he wondered if you would feel it thump inside of you.
He could debate how good of a distraction it was, but at least the sight of his spit running between your cheeks kept his focus from how his dick felt in your pussy. Aaron knew he was good at multi-tasking, but this was almost too much. Remembering to keep fingering your clit — aided by how you squirmed against his hand — and trying to keep a steady pace with his dick — again aided by how you also pushed back to meet his thrusts — and wetting his thumb thoroughly before gliding it over your asshole.
Worth it, he thought vaguely, based on those positively angelic sounds you made. Even with how you swore, it sounded like gospel. He barely remembered to ask if it was okay —if it was good, if this was accepted —so mesmerized at the sight. He had done this before — always carefully, always asking for permission — not really for any other reason that in some positions, it felt like your body offered it to him. And you liked it and where Aaron hadn’t had any particular fantasies about it before, it struck that caveman-gene in him again that this was another hole to fill with his cum. Another part of you to claim in the most depraved way possible.
Maybe down the line, but so far you had never gone further than what he did right now. Rubbing a slick finger around that tight little ring he couldn’t imagine fitting even his pinky inside. It took some willpower to let his hand follow the rhythm of your body — sometimes you pushed back against his dick so hard his finger would have poked into you whether you wanted it to or not — but he wanted this to be good for you. Needed this to be good for you.
But when you told him to fuck you, and rub your clit, and don’t stop, he wasn’t going to question it.
He groaned, mostly because of how you squeezed your pussy around his dick — again like a tight fist that you might as well have sucker-punched him with — as he pushed the very tip of his thumb into your ass. Tight. Hot. Only wet because of his spit, but based on your sounds, not exactly painful. He rubbed your clit harder, hoping to ease any discomfort there was or at least distract from it, and worked his thumb gently around. A vision of his thumb buried down to the hilt floated across his mind. Another way to grip you, using your ass as a balance hole to pull you back onto his dick, and he closed his eyes while involuntarily working your clit harder as if he could transfer some of his quickly approaching climax into you.
Another time, he reminded himself and tried to focus on your words. That didn’t help. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Aaron, please don’t stop. And in the same breath, you told him to come inside you — to fill you up — and that you were moving in with him and you wanted him to keep going and he couldn’t.
On your instructions, his thumb was inside to the first knuckle and he could feel himself now, could feel his dick where he was balls-deep inside of you. The further his thumb went in, the easier it got too, almost like you were sucking him in and he tried to remember to wiggle it around, loosening you up some, wanting this to feel good for you. But you were so tight and wet and you weren’t happy with how he’d slowed his pace on anything because you obviously wanted more.
He kept rubbing your wet little clit, almost on auto-pilot, but had to stop thrusting before he came before you. Did you have any idea of how good you felt? On his dick like this? Gushing wet and spread open and still so fucking tight? The slick sounds of his fingers on your clit drowned in your breathy pleas for him to keep going.
The words made it through the haze in Aaron’s mind, where all he could see was where the two of you were joined. Yes, he could do the fucking laundry. Yes, in his apartment. Yes, you were moving in. Yes, you were close to coming and you sounded so desperate he had to try. His wrist burned from circling your clit at the awkward angle, but he’d wear a wrist brace for the rest of the week if that meant feeling you lose yourself to a climax around him.
But he was so close. His balls tight and throbbing, bursting with cum he wanted to shoot inside of you. Wanted to watch it ooze out of your swollen glistening cunt afterward, use his fingers to push it back in, and then let you lick them clean. He wanted to do all of that. But not before you came first.
Almost holding his breath, he pulled his dick out with a lewd squelch, fighting to keep the rhythm on your clit even though you were squirming and swaying all over the place. Both of you were so close and you shoved your hips back to meet his next thrust, and your tight, tight asshole swallowed the rest of his thumb, and thank god that made you almost scream as you came because Aaron only lasted two — three — four more thrusts into your tight, tight pussy before he followed. He felt it in his whole body, the way the dam burst, and his nerve-endings exploded as he came.
The quiet forest engulfed his loud groan, the sound of your name in his chest, and your thin whimpers of unbridled pleasure. He desperately grabbed onto your hips to steady himself, keeping you from pulling away, wanting everything pumped into you. He halfway pulled back and buried himself all the way in again and grunted your name like he had traveled ten thousand years to the past and reduced to nothing but animal instincts. His balls pulsated, shooting string after string of cum into you, more than he would have expected. Hopefully enough. Filling you up to the brim, just like you’d fucking asked for, and enough to eventually run out of you to coat that expensive lace he’d bought today.
He clutched your hips like a lifeline — like you’d clutched that folder earlier today in his office — like your pussy clutched and milked his dick. He still twitched inside of you, still on the cusp of the orgasm, and he breathed hard to counteract the light-headedness. You were so perfect for him in every way, just so tight that he could feel his own cum coat around his dick in the limited space.
I love you, he thought and memorized every curve and line of your back, not enough breath in his lungs to say it just yet. Slowly coming down, he massaged your hips where he had left his marks yet again. Fingerprints dug into your skin in slight bruisings, ones you seemed to appreciate. You breathed equally hard as him, but looked at him over your shoulder, so flushed and gorgeous and deserving of the world.
I love you.
It was in your eyes, your smile, and often coming out your mouth too. Not right now as you only panted slightly, but you looked at him in a way that stole his breath away all over again.
I love you.
You had looked at him like that so many times before you said it for the first time, and Aaron knew you had held back. Patience. Trust. Understanding. It was in your every move and conversation with him. He didn’t know if he had earned it, but he hadn’t lied before of how grateful he was for it. Now it was his turn, he realized, to show you the same. To adapt to your schedule and your needs like you had done for him.
Like you were doing right now when the sound of his ring tone cut through the foggy aftermath of your orgasms. Not even hesitating, you reached out for his phone — Aaron swallowed a grunt when the movement pulled his dick from your gushing hole — and handed him both phone and some wet wipes. You had never tried to compete with either the job or Jack, and Aaron loved you for that too. Even if he deep-down knew he should have prioritized differently at times, you had made it so he didn’t have to. You had made everything so easy. Always, so easy, because apparently you felt he was worth it.
Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything but satisfaction in your eyes now either as you watched him try to listen to Garcia. If you kept this up, he might start to think he was worth it too.
He wanted to be worth it, he realized, watching the wicked glint in your eye when you sucked his fingers clean after the call ended. Wanted to have you and this and everything forever.
There were many reasons why Aaron loved you, but most of all because you had made him believe he could love again at all.
A/N: First time writing this "you"-style from Hotch's POV and looking for feedback. If it's confusing or if it’s unclear who’s POV it is. Also first time writing smut from a guy’s perspective and accepting feedback on that as well 🥰
As always, I strive to be inclusive of my reader-inserts, so please let me know if any descriptions or phrases needs changing.
Remember to reblog if you liked it! And that comments feed my creativity just as much as caffeine 💕
A Huskerdust/Angelhusk tumblr exclusive fic based on Ellie Goulding's "Close to Me" feat. Diplo and Swae Lee.
Part of the Light up the Night storyline
CW: Lots of cussing, mentions of sex and bullying Moxxie
Charlie jumped when she heard a door upstairs slam, then a hard pounding on wood before a frustrated yell had her on her feet.
She nearly ran into Husk as he stalked to the bar, grabbing a bottle off the shelf and uncorking it, taking several large gulps.
“Um…Everything good, Husk?” She asked.
Niffty suddenly hopped past, whining softly to herself as she leapt into the kitchen, hearing pots and pans banging.
Charlie looked at Husk, who had started on a second bottle and quickly followed the cyclops girl.
“Hey, Niffty?” Charlie asked.
Niffty was quickly measuring out flour and muttering to herself as she grabbed some eggs.
“Sad brownies?” Charlie asked as Niffty grabbed a block of fudge, then turned a grabbed a second.
“Sad brownies.” She said and turned to tie her hair in two short pigtails and wash her hands.
“What happened?” Charlie asked when Niffty gave her a bowl and whisk.
“Oh, Miss Charlie…” Niffty sighed and started chopping nuts. “It was awful!”
“Dance with me, Husk.” Angel teased as they walked past a club, Niffty peeking inside and grinning.
“We gotta get this stuff back to the hotel, Ang.” Husk said. “Some other time, okay?”
“Fiiiiine!” Angel huffed and reached for Husk’s hand.
Husk pulled his fingers away and crossed his arms.
Angel blinked. “The fuck?”
“Not here, Angel.” Husk said and looked at an old poster of Angel in drag.
Angel’s eyes followed his and he scoffed.
“Are ya serious?” He asked and stalked ahead, Niffty looking from Husk to Angel before hopping to the former’s side.
“Husky, what’s going on?” She asked.
“Nothin’, Niff.” He grumbled.
The walk back was tense and silent as they all made it back into the hotel.
Angel dropped his things on the counter and went up to his room, Husk cursing and following after his boyfriend once the groceries had been put away.
Niffty cocked her head and leapt up the stairs, hearing muffled shouting.
“…fuckin’ scared to be seen with me?”
“…know damn well I don’t give a shit!”
“Be honest Husk!” Angel yelled as Niffty placed her ear near the door. “Ya think I’m disgusting or somethin’? Think I’m too much of a slu—”
“Shut up!” Husk yelled. “I just…I don’t think…Ang…we’re…not good enough to been seen together…”
Niffty squinted her eye, Husk voice very low.
“Good en---Good enough?!” Angel yelled and there was the sound of glass breaking.
Niffty ran behind a plant as Husk ran out, a perfume bottle smashing behind his feet as he turned.
“Angel…I didn’t mean it like that…Angel!” Husk yelled as the door slammed. He pounded on the door before yelling in frustration and going down the stairs.
Niffty sighed. “I think I get what Husk meant. I hear him talking with Mimzy when she’s over."
“Oh?” Charlie asked as they waited for the brownies to bake.
“It’s not Angel isn’t good enough.” She looked up at Charlie. “It’s Husk. He thinks he’s not good enough to be seen with Angel.”
“And so Angel…oooooh.” Charlie said. “What should we do?”
“Brownies and milk.”
“Right! Any alcohol will make Angel spiral!” Charlie said. “He’ll lose all his progress!”
“…No, milk just taste better with brownies….” Niffty said with a frown.
“Right, right, right…” Charlie laughed awkwardly. “Sorry.”
Niffty huffed and heard the oven ding, taking the brownies out and letting them cool as she set up a tray.
“Ya know, Miss Charlie, sometimes we just gotta do what’s best for people in their own way.”
“But Angel staying clean is best for him—”
“Angel, not the hotel.”
“I…I think I have an idea. But I might need some help.”
She grimaced as she took out her phone and shot a text.
“Okay, Niffty, we might need a few more batches of brownies…” Charlie said. “And some of the good liquor I know you stowed away for this kind of situation. Let’s move all this to the home theater. And make sure the front room is clear.”
“Why both rooms?”
“That’s such bull!” Loona said as she downed another shot.
“How can he imply he’s better than you?” Octavia added.
“Yeah, Angie, you’re like, the fucking best!” Cherri said and stuffed another brownie in her mouth.
“Thanks gals.” Angel said, sniffing and taking another tissue from Millie. Then another shot.
Niffty sat on one of the sofas, a weird cartoon playing on the screen no one was paying attention to. She quietly excused herself and hopped to the other side of the hotel where Husk was drinking from another bottle as Blitzo chattered away.
“Listen, they all throw fits, but just have really rough angry se—”
“Sir!” Moxxie interrupted. “The best response is proper communication. As a happily married man, I can say with confidence—”
“No one cares about your boring married life!” Blitzo said and pushed Moxxie off his stool.
“Blitzy Dear…” Stolas cooed. “Aren’t we in a committed relationship?”
“Well I mean, yes.” Blitz said with a blush. “But! Marriage makes it less…sexy.”
“I see. But being my consort is much more…enticing?” Stolas purred, leaning against his partner.
“Fellas!” Mimzy chided. “This isn’t helping.”
Husk was sobbing now. “I fucked up again…”
“Oh, Husker…” Mimzy said and rubbed his shoulders. “Alastor! Can’t you help us?”
The Radio Demon looked up from his drink, cocking his head. “Oh, I’m trying, my Love.”
“Tryin—Alastor! What are you up to?” The shorter demon asked her lover.
Niffty chirped and gasped, running back to the theater.
She burst in to see the same scene she had just escaped from.
“He’s so fuckin’ beautiful, Mimz!” He said. “Like, look at ‘im! Hic! ‘Den look at me! He’s too good fa’ me and I hate…”
Angel’s eyes were transfixed on the screen.
“Hate how people look at us. ‘Dis tall fuckin’ babe and his shlubby boyfriend!”
“You’re not shlubby—” Mimzy said.
“Yes, I am!” Husk said and hiccupped. “I’m an ugly old man and he’s just! Just!”
“Just what?” Mimzy asked, side eying Blitzo and Stolas escaping into the hall to a bedroom.
“He’s fuckin’ perfect! He’s pretty an’, an’ has a nice voice…His cute widdle snore an’ man! Can he shoot, Mimz! He’s so fuckin’ vicious when he wanna be!” Husk said, waving his bottle around. “He looks so happy when he’s mowing down fuckers! Yeah, I snap at ‘im. But he can always tell when I’m bullshitting ‘im. We get in our little back and forths an’…he does dis little pout that melt me, ya know?”
“His laugh…” Husk continued Mimzy carefully took the bottle. He mixed his drink with a smile. “Fuckin’ infectious. An’ he always smells so fuckin’ good. He looks at me like…like I’m da best damn ting in da world, ya know?”
He smiled into his glass.
“When Angel is…well, if anyone makes it outta here…I hope it’s Angel…I want ‘im happy.” Husk said. “I love him—”
Angel tackled him on screen, and everyone was shocked to see Angel had sprinted down the halls to kiss Husk's face.
“Love ya too, Husky!” Angel yelled happily, kissing the cat demon's cheeks and lips over and over.
Husk clutched him tight in a hug. “I’m sorry, Baby.”
“I know, I know, Husky.” Angel whispered. “Let’s get ya sobered up, Baby. Then we can cuddle with Nuggs.”
“Love Nuggs.” Husk mumbled as Angel picked him up, his wings dragging behind them.
“Aw~” Millie cooed as the girls joined the rest of the group in the front.
“Well, it’s late.” Charlie said.
Vaggie placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Feel free to stay the night.”
They suddenly heard pounding from Blitzo and Stolas’s room.
“Ew.” Loona and Octavia said.
“I just fixed that damn wall!” Vaggie huffed and shook her head.
Niffty offered her the last brownie, the taller demon smiling at her as they dispersed.
Angel rubbed the base of Husk’s ears as he purred into his chest fluff.
“Ya wrong, Baby.” Angel said.
Husk moaned sleepily.
“We good.” Angel said, pulling the other into a kiss. “Together.”
“Shut up.” Angel chuckled. “Just stay close to me. And love me like ya do, okay?”
Request: since there seems to be the lack of fundy work, may i request clingy!fundy x male!reader?
Fundy woke with a start, heart pounding and tears flowing forward from his eyes. Looking over at you in your shared bed he couldn't help but choke back a sob. You slept peacefully in the dark room. He didn’t want to wake you up over a nightmare.
So, he curled up in a bed opting not to wake up his boyfriend. He felt his back against you, and he tried focusing on that but, it just couldn't compare to feeling your arms around him. His body shook from his silent sobs and that's what ultimately woke you up. Waking up to hearing his distressed sobs... It always hurt your heart. He had been dealing with some nasty nightmares lately.
You rolled over wrapping your arms around his shaking form. At your movement he turned himself to where he was facing you, his face nuzzling in your neck.
"Shhh, I've got you." You coo’d in his ear. Your fingers running through the hair on his head. You felt his tears soak into your night shirt. He clung to you as if his life depended on it.
He babbled his dreams to you; you couldn't understand half of what he was saying. What you could understand, troubled you. The fact that these dreams kept coming back... it worried you. Not that you would convey that to Fundy. You just planted kisses over his face.
"There's something wrong with me..." Fundy sniffled, and you just held him close to you as you shook your head. "Please..." He couldn't get the rest of the words out.
"Please what love?" You pulled back to look in his watery red eyes. He quivered in your hold.
"Don’t leave me..." His grip tightened on you. "Everyone always leaves, I couldn't handle it if you left me too..." You felt tears start welling in your own eyes. Shaking your head, you press your lips against his.
"Fundy... love I am not going anywhere. I will never leave you. I love you."
"I love you too..."
Morning crept up on the two of you and soon the light of the morning sun streamed through your curtains, bathing your room in golden sunlight. Fundy had fallen asleep hours ago, the silence deafening to you, you laid there awake pondering over everything your boyfriend had gone through in his life.
Pressing your lips to your hybrid’s forehead, you sighed peeling him off of you. You wanted to make him breakfast. You wanted today to be a day just for him. You loved him and you would be there to help him through every bit of turmoil in his life, today was no different.
You padded your way to your kitchen, starting on breakfast for him. You kept your ears open just in case he had another nightmare, and you needed to be there to help him again. Some time had passed, and you felt his arms snake around your torso, pulling you to him.
"G'morning handsome." He murmured burying his face in your back. "Smells good." He stayed like that as you chuckled.
"Morning, I'm cooking your favorite." Your hand came to rest on his arm that kept you tightly to him. "I figured you and me could go out and have some fun today."
"Scams?" You heard the excitement in his voice, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Yes, scams." You nodded turning so your front was facing him. Resting your arms over his shoulders, your fingers caressing the back of his neck, the two of you look into each other’s eyes. You were happy that he wasn’t upset. Even though the puffiness of his eyes was enough evidence to show he had been crying.
He peppered your face in kisses, reveling in your laugh as he did so.
"I'm so happy I found you. You're perfect for me." He rested his forehead on yours staring in your eyes. The two of you stayed like that swaying as if there were music. When the smell of the food burning reached your nose, you tried pulling away, only to have Fundy pull you back. "One more minute." He begged.
"Fundy, the food is burning." You giggled, your hand rising to his face, fingers caressing his cheek.
"I don’t mind eating burnt food. I've eaten worse." He buried his face in the crook of your neck. A shiver ran up your spine in disgust, remembering how he would only eat spider eyes. You were glad you got him out of... that phase...? His arms around you showed no signs of letting up off of you and you sighed cradling him against you.
You actually were able to get him off of you and you finished cooking, serving him at your dining room table. He gave you the sweetest smile as you sat down next to him with your own plate. Light conversation filled the silence as he told you all of the plans for the scams, he wanted to do with you today. Most of it seemed harmless, then there would be a plan that would include blowing stuff up, you quickly steered him away from those plans. The last thing you needed was another version of his father, you wouldn't let that happen. Not again.
When the two of you were done with your meals you put the dishes in the sink to soak, opting to do them later. Right now, was both yours and Fundy's time, and no one would take that away from either of you. He pulled you to and from the areas he wanted to hit.
Walking down the prime path, your arms locked together. The two of you reminisced of the days of early L’manburg, you had grown up with him. Watching everything he had to go through firsthand. Finally admitting your feelings to one another, when the two of you just watched the final fight for L’manburg on this same prime path.
The two of you had been through so much together even when you two were tiny boys eager to grow up, and that would still hold true for the future. You had his back and he had yours, and there was nothing that was going to change that.
How to Care For You - Extra/Deleted Scene - Part 1
Relationships: Eustass Kid & Trafalgar D. Water Law, Trafalgar D. Water Law/Original Character(s), Implied Eustass Kid/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Notes: Takes place in Chapter 5 of How to Care For You (a KidLaw fic I wrote). Contains fic spoiler. Tumblr exclusive.
Tags: De-Aged Trafalgar Law, Kid Tries to Be Law’s Guardian, Established Relationship
Summary: Law invited local island kid Metal to lunch with the Kid Pirates.
For @riel-chi, because you listened. Thank you.
“You wanna learn crafting?”
“Can you teach me?” Law asked, eyeing the red-haired boy beside him. The boy was a local kid Law met on an island where Victoria Punk was docked at a few days ago. Law called him Metal. He didn’t know this boy’s real name. It was a thing between them. They went by code names and knew nothing of each other’s real names. Metal had approached him when Law was bored out of his mind while the Kid Pirates were all too busy to mind him.
“I only know the surface of it,” Metal admitted, “I like collecting stuffs, but am not necessarily good at making them.”
“Will you at least help me choose the right materials?”
“That I can do, Goldfinch,” Metal grinned at him. Goldfinch was Law’s code name. Metal decided the name for him.
“I want to invite you to Victoria Punk to see the captain’s workshop. The things you can see there are incredible. I bet you have a more discerning eye than me,” said Law. “But I’ll have to ask Eustass-ya’s permission.”
“So he’s your captain, huh? This ‘Eustass-ya’? What’s his full name?”
“He’s not really my captain. More like my guardian. Name’s Eustass Kid.”
“That notorious pirate of the Worst Generation?” Metal frowned at him, “And you’re on board his ship? Why?”
Law glanced to the side. “Hard to explain.” He couldn’t tell Metal that he had been de-aged, that he didn’t even know the exact nature of the relationship between Eustass and Law’s adult self. What he knew, though, Eustass loved him, and Law had realized he loved Eustass back. It was the love he once had for his parents. Eustass was the new recipient of that.
Metal eyed him suspiciously. “Goldfinch, are you in need for help?”
Law blinked. “What?”
“When you can’t say anything, how about giving a signal?”
“What the heck are you talking about?”
“If you need help, we’ll do something, alright?” Metal said, “You know what, I’ll get Onion and Strawberry, then we’ll do something whether you can safely signal us or not.”
Onion and Strawberry were the code names of Metal’s friends and also Law’s recent acquaintances.
“Again, what on earth are you talking about?” Law asked in confusion.
“It’s okay,” Metal grinned meaningfully, placing a hand on Law’s shoulder. “We’ll be there.”
“I don’t need help. If you’re worried about Eustass-ya, he’s my guardian,” said Law.
“Is that a secret code? He’s the one who’s ‘guarding’ you, huh? I get it, Goldfinch.”
“No, I don’t think you get it,” Law shook his head. “Eustass-ya is—“
“Law!” Eustass’ voice boomed in the distance, “Time for lunch!”
“—too much as a guardian sometimes.” Law clucked his tongue. Sheesh, that guy didn’t need to yell for everyone to hear. Law knew when to come back for lunch.
“He sounds evil,” Metal squinted his eyes, gazing into the distance.
“Villainous, isn’t he?” Law smirked, “But he isn’t as bad as you think. Probably.” He turned away, eyes fixed on the distant figure of Eustass on Victoria Punk. The man was waiting for Law on the deck, but he was still busy talking to a local shipwright while glancing occasionally at him. Law turned back to Metal. “Hey, come with me. I’ll introduce you to Eustass-ya.”
“R-really?” Metal’s expression was unreadable. Nervousness, perhaps?
Law thought it could be a little fun to introduce them both. They looked so similar, after all. Metal was how Law imagined Eustass would be like if he was a child. He wondered what Eustass’ reaction would be. “Yeah, really. Who knows, maybe you can even eat with us. No guarantee, though.”
After Law took a few steps forward, Metal’s voice interrupted him. “Hey, Goldfinch. Do you mind holding hands?”
“What for?” Law asked, genuinely curious and a tiny bit concerned. “Are you hurting anywhere? Need medical assistance?”
“No. I’m not hurt. Just because.” Metal offered his hand.
Law stared at it, shrugged, and took that hand. Metal tangled their fingers together, so Law had to practically drag him forward sometimes. Metal had been acting a bit weird today.
They came back to Victoria Punk in time, but why was Eustass glaring at him? The redhead stood by the end of the plank, blocking their path to step on Victoria Punk. His arms were crossed over his chest. The metal arm made that gesture looked a little unbalanced as usual.
“Eustass-ya,” Law said, pulling Metal by his hand to stand beside him. “I want to introduce you to—“
“Why are you guys holding hands? He needs medical assistance? Shot himself in the foot?” Eustass asked. There was no concern in his voice. Only sarcasm.
Law opened his mouth, but he didn’t even know the answer to the first question. Metal just asked him to hold hands, that was it. “Why does it matter? Anyway,” Law pointed at Metal with his free index finger, “his name’s Metal. That’s a code name by the way. Mine’s Goldfinch.”
Eustass glared daggers at Metal, but Law didn’t think much of it. The redhead glared daggers at anybody. He often looked like he might murder someone. Sometimes he actually did the murdering, but Law didn’t think he would this time. “Metal?” Eustass scowled, “You call him ‘Metal-ya’?”
“No,” Law instinctively tilted the visor of his hat down, “You are the only one I ever addressed that way.”
He could feel Metal’s intense gaze at him.
Perhaps it was simply Law’s imagination to see a relief on Eustass’ face. “So you’re the brat who gave him the name ‘Goldfinch’?” Eustass’ voice was a low, threatening growl. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh? Pet name?”
“Code name!” Law emphasized, “I already told you it’s not pet name!”
“Who knows if it’s a pet name in disguise,” Eustass turned to Law. “And stop holding hands! What is even your point of holding his hand?”
Don’t order me around. The thought came briefly into Law’s mind, but he had grown to respect Eustass enough to be a bit more obedient than he usually would toward other adults. Law released Metal’s hand. “I don’t know the point. Just because,” he parroted Metal’s reasoning.
“Just because,” Eustass repeated, towering over Metal, who took a step back, but still dared to look up to Eustass. “And you were the one who suggested it.”
Metal remained silent, not turning away from Eustass’ glare. Law admired that little bravery in the boy.
“I’m Eustass Kid,” he looked at Metal, chin hanging high. He was still keeping that intimidating pose.
“I know who you are,” Metal said. He seemed a little scared, but who wouldn’t be? Eustass was damn scary.
Law had hoped for a better introduction process, honestly. Perhaps something like Eustass’ stupid face when he saw a reflection of his own childhood self. Maybe Law was wrong. Eustass might not look like Metal when he was young. Law was only speculating, after all.
Eustass was still glaring at Metal, “Good that you know. That means you also know that you’re not welcome to set foot—“
“Eustass-ya, is it okay for Metal to have lunch with us?” Law got in between his sentence.
“—on Victoria—hey!” Eustass shifted his glare toward Law, his voice raising, “Lunch? Us?”
Law nodded. “I invited him. I didn’t promise anything, though. It depends on you.”
“Then it’s a no,” Eustass grunted.
“Ah,” Law sighed in disappointment, “alright then.”
“Fine!” Eustass suddenly said, “Only for lunch, then he’ll be outta the ship.”
Taken by surprise, Law’s eyes slightly widened. Eustass could change his mind so quickly at times. When Law asked Eustass to read Sora, Warrior of the Sea out loud to him when he lay sick in bed, the man also instantly relented out of nowhere right after Law already accepted he wouldn’t do such a thing.
“Get on,” Eustass finally turned around and walked, allowing them to get on the ship through the plank. Law frowned, staring at Eustass’ red fur coat that was draped in front of him. Eustass sounded pissed somehow, but Law didn’t know exactly why. Eustass was okay with the Kid Pirates members bringing their flings to eat and drink on the ship at times, and all Law did this time was bringing a kid his age who happened to be an acquaintance, nothing more.
He decided to not think too much of it. Eustass had allowed him. There was no reason to cancel his invitation. Besides, he didn’t dislike Metal’s presence by his side.
This Valentine’s Day is the perfect opportunity for a Follower Appreciation Gift.
I want to give you a hearty thank you!
I feel very blessed to have a bunch of the very best followers:
Compassionate, creative, patient, open-minded, friendly...
Recently, you participated in my survey (28 of you! I received great feedback) and you were very forthcoming with donations (so far, I collected over 70% of the needed sum) and reblogs.
You like and comment my posts and read very long text posts. You know just what to say when times are tough and you spread joy and love, motivation and encouragement.
Today, I hand-painted this pattern for you. I am a bit too late to post on Valentine’s Day (at least in my timezone), but I designed, drew, created, colored, tested, screenshotted, corrected, polished and uploaded it all in just one day. (New record!)
I hope you like the design, I tried to keep it fresh and cool and not too tacky.
💜 💜 💜 Download 💜 💜 💜
Alternative download (mediafire)
P.S.: Here is a darker recolor, have fun experimenting with it!
A ficlet based on @b1rdza‘s imaginary friend!Ranboo AU, which I love dearly and am now obsessed with.
.....or, in other words, I wrote some hurt/comfort on my phone during dinner to cope with my horrible day. Here it is. Bon appetit
Finn, please tell me if I got anything wrong with the AU lore ^v^
Tubbo slammed the door behind him, harder than he meant to, and flung his backpack onto the floor by his bed. A muffled shout from below warned him not to slam doors. He ignored it, falling face-first into his bed. Almost immediately, his face was wet as he buried it into his blankets. Silent sobs wracked his body.
It was shit. Everything was shit and he was alone. High school was horrible, even worse than last year. Why had he thought sophomore year would be better than freshman? What was going through his head? It was all shit. Equally awful. And now, he thought, he had no friends to see it through with him. Tubbo couldn't believe it took him so long to realize that they didn't want him around anymore.
A hand settled on his shoulder, hesitant and gentle. Tubbo sniffled. The weight was comforting. He turned his head and, out of the corner of his eye, saw Ranboo.
"Hi, Boo," he said. His voice sounded rough and miserable.
"Hi, Tubbo." Ranboo's response was soft, but sure. His voice was comforting. Strong, Tubbo thought. Ranboo had a strong voice. He wondered if he made him that way because he needed it.
"You wanna talk about it?" Ranboo asked hesitantly.
In response, Tubbo turned his head back into his sheets and grumbled out a wordless sound of denial.
"Ok.. that's ok." Ranboo's hand on his shoulder patted him comfortingly, then moved to the small of his back and rubbed gently. It felt childish, but good. Tubbo's mother used to do this for him when he cried, back when he was little... he missed it.
Slowly, his breathing evened out, and he began to relax. He still felt like shit, but now he was tired from crying, and it was much easier to drift in and out of conciousness with Ranboo by his side. His friend was speaking, talking about something, but Tubbo didn't listen to the words; he just hummed in response and let the words wash over him.
"Tubbo...? You feeling better?"
"Mmm... you know, you're a dick."
He could almost see the affronted look on Ranboo's face, even with his eyes closed. "You kept making faces at me in math today. Everyone looked at me weirdly when I laughed."
"... I thought you liked that."
"It was pretty funny," Tubbo admitted, rolling over and shooting him a smile. His eyes were surely still red from crying and his whole face and body felt heavy, but he felt good enough to crack a few jokes.
"Ranboo..." he suddenly became introspective. "Why are you here?"
Ranboo looked away, quiet.
"I'm here..." Ranboo's hand curled into a fist by his side, scrunching up the blanket. He spoke his next words slowly, quietly. "I'm here to be your friend. Because you need me. Because you... don't have any right now. At least... I think so. That's..—" he stumbled over his words for a moment—"I can't explain it. I just know. I'm sorry." He was looking at Tubbo now, seeing how his face scrunched up. How his jaw set. How the confirmation hurt him—that he wasn't just insecure. His friends weren't his friends anymore. "I'm sorry," Ranboo said again. His hand came up to brush against Tubbo's, and Tubbo opened his. Ranboo's fingers closed around his. Warm. Real. Comforting. Tubbo closed his eyes.
"Thanks for coming back, Ranboo. I... missed you."
Completely unedited, written partially to cope with my own feelings, and partially to get a feel for writing this AU and how their dynamic works in this verse. Thanks for reading <3
One shot based on a little interaction between @zariawolf1zariathedinokid and me listening to Owl City while jacked up on Red Bull
"Kenji has been seeing a merman in the water over the last year."
TW: Hints of suicide, please tred carefully
Kenji looked down at the water.
“Honey?” He heard his mother call, dressed in a robe and some rainboots.
“I saw him again…” Kenji said softly, looking off into the grayish water.
“Your friend?” She asked and sat next to him.
“Yeah…” He whispered.
Candy wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.
“Come inside now, Mijo…” She whispered back.
He got up wordlessly and followed her, trying desperately not to look back when he heard splashing under the wooden dock.
Kosei’s hand was warm on his shoulder.
“I think this could be good for you.” He said as Kenji looked at the treatment center.
“I’m not crazy.” He said.
“Kenji…there’s no one there and those drawing of yours…”
“The mermaids?” He scoffed. “You’re worried I draw mermaids?”
“One in…in particular, Son.”
Kenji pushed away from his father.
“Kenji!” Kosei called, but Candy held his arm, her sad eyes begging him to give their son some breathing room.
“…And there’s this treatment center in Monterey Bay they want me to stay at for a few weeks.”
There was a splash to his left, and he smiled at the person in the water, big gray eyes looking up at him, chestnut hair held back by an old blue bandana. He surfaced a bit, pink skin on display that gave way to shiny pale blue scales and translucent fins. He smiled with too sharp teeth.
“Why do you always hide from everyone but me?”
The merman smiled wider and Kenji cupped his cheek, the other leaning into the touch, eyes gazing up at him.
He blinked and he was in the same place, but next to him was a human boy dressed in khaki shorts, a short sleeved blue button up and hair brushed to the side. He was blushing.
“I love you, Kenji.”
“I love you too.” He said and when he blinked, both the boy and the merman were gone.
“…with the guilt?”
“I’m sorry, what?” He asked and looked up.
He was now in a warm room that smelled like daisies and was decorated in bluish green colors and white. He was sitting, no reclined in a navy blue chair.
“Do you struggle with the guilt?” A plump middle aged woman asked from a plush sea foam green love seat.
“I mean, it was your idea to go for a joyride, wasn’t it?” She asked. “And I hate to bring up that you were the one speeding when the car went off the curve and into the water—”
“I really-!” Kenji stood up. “I can’t!”
“Kenji! Let’s take a deep breath!” She said, standing slowly. “Sandra Pincus—”
“NO!” He yelled and ran out.
He was back at the beach, the merman next to him.
“He would have been eighteen today.” He said softly.
The merman tilted his head.
“My…my boyfriend…died on his birthday.” He said. “No…I killed him.”
He took a breath and looked out at the waves.
“I really loved him. I didn’t…I didn’t think we’d last. I thought, hey! He’s cute, I’ll give it a shot.” He said, sniffing as his face heated and nose ran. “But he was more than cute. He was…sweet and sarcastic and a germaphobe sometimes and this badass at others and…I wanted us to go for a little drive, y’know?”
He looked at the merman, now the boy.
“I was scared we’d break curfew, and I didn’t want to get in trouble. It started raining…”
“I was speeding when we were going to hit that curve you hated. Always made your stomach flip.” Kenji chuckled. “I should’ve slowed down…”
“But you didn’t.”
“And all the bad things and bad decisions…We flipped over the guard rail.” Kenji said. “Some people saw me, and they were able to get me out before the car was submerged. I was so dizzy but…I kept yelling.”
“They couldn’t find you. Couldn’t find your body. Thought it got washed out to sea.” He sobbed. “And the worst part was no one blamed me when I knew it was my fault!”
The boy smiled and took Kenji’s face in his hands.
Kenji felt the tide coming in, water splashing over his thighs from where he sat.
“You have to let me go.” Ben whispered.
“Kenji, if you don’t let me go, you’ll never wake up.” Ben said and Kenji gasped.
“I can't let you go, Ben…”
“I love you.” He whispered.
Ben smiled with too sharp teeth and kissed him softly.
"I love you too." He whispered and Kenji clutched onto him as the water rose higher and higher...
Kosei sighed as he stared off into the water.
“Do you think we’ll ever know what happened?” He asked his wife, who bit her lip to keep from sobbing.
“They said it was an accident.” She said. “When the tide came in he just stayed there and…”
Kosei hugged his wife and felt her sob.
They both gasped as they heard two loud splashes and a thud. Kosei walked over to their dock, seeing a large blue seashell and a dark blue bandana. Candy let out a surprised scream when two figures swam out to sea.
Kosei breath left him when he saw blue scales, pink skin and chestnut colored hair. And next to it, navy scales, tan skin and black hair.
He blinked and they were gone, Candy clutching his arm as they stared out into the waves.