#<- let them be nice and have fun with one another

[c4tluver02]

party mishaps

wc: 3.2k

summary: You and Steve go to Tommy's party, it's fun and you two have a a great time. That is until a drink is spilt on you and Steve gets flashbacks from the last time this happened.

cw: r wearing a bra, r being shorter than Steve, drinking, partying, being drunk, hurt/comfort, slight fight (so small barely), happy ending, fluffff

When Steve told you about the party happening tonight you immediately agreed to going. It would be the first outing you have as a couple. 

Of course people knew you were dating, and it wasn't like you hid it from the world. Anyone who walked past you could tell you were dating– Steve always had an arm around you  or a hand shoved in your back pocket. 

But for the people who see you around school, the girls who talk behind your back about how Steve used to be, it meant something. Because you would be able to finally show off how strong you and Steve are. The relationship being somewhat new but solid nonetheless. 

You knew about his past relationships, how the meaningless sex made him feel, what Nancy did to him. None of it was lost on you, the things Steve has had to put up with. 

That's why when he calls you asking you to come over you do. And when it’s just you and him in his empty house he finally starts to feel warm. Like the feeling of another being is bringing him back to life. What once was a house with bones is now filled with a heart and soul, something it severely lacked without you. 

And when it’s late at night, your legs are tangled with his, he finally asks. This party he wants you to attend would be hosted by Tommy and Carol so you wouldn't be alone. You think he knows that's barely a selling point, not really friends with them, but still him letting you know was nice to hear. 

Steve doesn't really go to parties anymore, and for him to ask you to come felt like a big step. You know Steve, if you aren't into it he has no problem leaving. Plus it would be nice to have a fun night out with him, one that involves you getting into a cute outfit and hearing compliments on how pretty you look.

–

As you got ready for the party you heard Steve open the door, his keys make a loud noise when they hit the glass bowl. 

“Baby?” His voice booms even louder.

“M’upstairs!” 

The staircase is just as loud, the old wood creaks with every step he takes. 

“I just talked to Tommy, apparently people are already getting there, whatever happened to being fashionably late?” He stops at your door with a hip pop and a hand to rest there. 

You are putting on a necklace in front of your mirror but your hair keeps getting in the way, making it hard.

“Want help?” 

“Please.” You give him the necklace as you lift up your hair. Once he clasps it together he gives your shoulder a small kiss. 

Your outfit consisted of a tank top and a jean skirt, not wanting to be too uncomfortable but still look presentable. Anything that shows you legs will have Steve begging for you so it’s a win either way. 

“You look really pretty.” He says as he gives you a full look up and down. He’s leaning against your bed frame and you won't lie he looks even better. 

“Thank you” You turn around giving him a long awaited kiss. “Are you ready to go?” You never do your lipstick until you’re in Steve's car for this very reason. 

“Yeah, let's go.” His hand gives your hand a small squeeze before you turn to walk towards the door.

Steve opens the car door for you like the gentleman he is, and even gives you another kiss once you’re settled in with your seatbelt on. You can see him stare at your legs for a split second. 

“You feeling some Beatles or maybe Madonna?” You ask sorting through his many tapes. He’s already getting into the driver's seat as you ask.

“Whatever you want honey, it’s not too far away.” His hand is already on your thigh. 

Despite his comment about the distance his humming to the songs is loud. Long fingers drumming against your warm thigh, soft from a lotion he always says is his favorite smell. Steve loves to sing in the car, and thankfully he’s not bad at it. On your third date he sang you a song from a tape he made and you felt your heart double in size. 

When you turn into Tommys street you can already hear the loud music. Multiple cars park around his house and Steve gets lucky that his car is just small enough for a spot. As he helps you out of the car you can hear a loud whistle come from the other side of the street. It’s two old guys who are sitting in plastic chairs with a beer in hand– other alcoholic drinks surround them. 

Steve flips them off and walks behind you the whole way to the door. When walking into the house the music only gets louder and colorful lights appear on the walls. It’s not pitch black but it certainly isn't brightly lit, allowing people to make out in corners without being spotted. 

“D’you want a drink?” Steve asks, hand grabbing onto your own. 

You give him a nod as you run your nails up and down his arm. The last thing you want to do is be separated by Steve, even if it’s to get a drink. The old guys already got you in a bad mood. 

Steve is really great at making drinks, he always knows exactly how much you want or what flavors you would like. As he makes it you take a chance to look around at the people dancing. Sweaty bodies grinding against other sweaty bodies, not a care in the world. You see some girls from your english class, if all else fails you could always talk to them. 

Steve’s hand on your waist brings you back to him, a pinkish drink is in his reached out hand. 

“I added pink lemonade, if it’s still too bitter let me know.” 

You give him a small ‘thank you’ that he 100% doesn't hear but his eyes were already on your lips, easily reading them. He grabs a beer for himself, using the edge of the counter to take the lid off. 

The drink is a little bitter but not anything you can't handle. When you see Carol walk your way you already know you’re gonna need a few more of these pink drinks. She’s wearing an extremely short dress, one you’re sure Tommy yelled at her for wearing. She’s probably only wearing it to rebel against him, the way it pushes her boobs up and together looks extremely uncomfortable, like it's just a size or two too small but still she fits. 

“Hey you two! Have you seen Tommy?” The slur mixed with her speech tells you all you need to know. 

“Nope, we just got here. He’s probably smoking out back.” Steve answers, sipping on his beer. 

“He quit smoking, no way he’s back there.” She says looking through the crowd of people. It gives you a second to look at Steve as he shakes his head at you, as if to say ‘no he didn't’. 

Her drunk state probably isn't helping her look so you take her hand and make your way through the crowd. Steve is talking to some guys in the kitchen but his eyes are still on you. 

“Where did you last see him?” You are already almost done with your drink, the small glass plus ice did not give you much. 

“I went to get us drinks and he walked away.” She holds up the two bottles of beer in her hand, both opened ready to drink. 

Thankfully she isn't looking at the staircase because when you finally spot Tommy he’s with a blond girl walking down the steps. She presses a kiss to his cheek, lipstick leaving a print, and in seconds you are trying to think of a way to get Carol away so you can pull them apart. 

But her head turns too fast, her gaze follows yours, and she's already caught them. Her hand rips away from yours as she stomps over to the two people. The blond is quick to walk away, not wanting to be part of the whole fight, probably just wanting a guy to take home. When Carol dumps the beer on Tommy you walk away too, something you also don't want to get involved with. 

Steve is still in the kitchen talking to the same people you saw him with when you left a few minutes ago. But this time a new pink drink is sitting next to his beer, all perfect and ready for you. Putting the old glass in the sink you pick up the new one, it doesn't have as much ice, or maybe it’s melted from your time away. This one is stronger, the alcohol hits you quickly, making your eyes pinch together as you shake your head. 

“Too much?” Steve asks with a laugh. His arm snakes around your waist again. 

“Nope, perfect, thank you.” This time he hears you say it, faces so close together he just has to give you a kiss. 

Before you can deepen it he lets go. “Did Carol find Tommy?” You’re practically leaning your body against him, going completely limp into him. 

“Yep, with another girl.” His eyes widen and then roll. The shock lasted about 2 seconds before it wore off. 

You don't even give him a chance to say anything back, going in for another kiss. This time it’s deeper, longer, and says more. But the sound of another person entering the kitchen forces you two apart, Steve grabs your glass off the counter. 

“Hey, if you two need to use my room you can.” Tommy says with a wink. His shirt is completely soaked from the beer Carol dumped on him, the kiss print still bright on his cheek. 

Steve just gives him a small nod as he takes your hand to get you two out of the kitchen. Now that it’s taken over by Tommy you need a new spot. He nods when you point to a couch in the corner of the room, a nice lamp stands next to it, meant for a reading nook. It’s quite small, really only fitting two people or maybe one person who puts their legs out. Still it works for you both, turning on the lamp is a huge plus. Every other light in this house, besides the kitchen, is multi-colored so the nice warmth is appreciated. 

The more you and Steve talk in that corner the more the drinks flow. Every once in a while you’ll get up to get two beers, when Steve gets up he comes back with a beer and a new colorful drink. The longer you sit on the couch the less you care about the drinks and more about the effect it gives. 

You start to get up again, ready for another drink but this time Steve pulls you back down. He says something as you land back on the seat but you can't hear it, it makes you tap on your ear hoping he gets the gist. 

“No more okay?” He yells into your ear, the current song playing is way louder than the others. 

And the pout he receives is deadly. Your already glassy eyes become more prominent, the lip you stick out is lightly red from your leftover lipstick, and the whine that leaves you isn't missed on him. He should really cut you off but when has Steve ever been able to deny that face? 

Although you were originally trying to get it, he decides it’s best you stay seated. Your body is loosey goosey thanks to the alcohol, not a good way to walk around a crowded room. 

When he comes back with two drinks the smile is back on your face. After this Steve will man up and say no to you but for now he lets you chug the bottle down with no argument. He wants you to have fun after all, tomorrow you will hate yourself for it but right now the smile on your face is so pretty. He wishes he brought his camera you look so good, even all drunk and messy with your legs thrown over his lap. His hand is warm on your thigh keeping your skirt in place so it doesn't roll up and when you notice he isn't even touching his new bottle you make grabby hands for it. 

He lifts it up high so you can't reach, shorter than him sitting down and your arms are not as long enough to grab it. 

So when you swiftly move your legs off of his lap and stand you can reach it with ease. Grabbing onto the neck of the bottle, trying to get it your way. It all happened so quick, Steve was just playing around. But when you yank too hard on the neck it tips and all of the liquid falls out onto you. Similarly to Tommy, it soaks your chest, the white shirt you have on becoming see through. You’re left sticky and shiny with tears filling your eyes. 

You forcefully push yourself away from Steve and he catches you before you tumble backwards. His hands grabbing onto your wrists tightly. This only makes you angrier. You struggle to get away from him but his grip is too tight. 

Steve is getting the worst flashbacks from his last party of spilling a drink on his date. The way it ended, the words said, it all came back to him so fast. If you were in a normal state of mind you would be aware of this, probably not even mad about a drink spilt by Steve. But with the alcohol coursing through you and the drunk state of mind none of that comes through. 

“C’mere let's go to the bathroom.” His hands move from your wrists to your hips, pushing you both through the crowd. He’s too strong for you to pull away from, especially in your wasted state. 

It’s crazy how much the bathroom door blocks out the loud music. It’s like you can finally think again and you can even hear his sigh as he looks at the two of you in the mirror. Despite the slight smudge of mascara and the loss of lipstick you look pretty much the same. Except your shirt is now showing your bra and the shine from the beer is glowing from the light. 

“Will you let me help you clean up?” He’s still looking at you through the mirror, you stand there with your arms crossed thinking. You really aren't terribly upset, it’s not like he was mad at you like Carol was with Tommy. It was an accident, but still it happened and you were just trying to have fun. There was no need for him to be such a party crasher, even if he was just looking out for you, you know when you need to stop. 

Still you give him a nod as you turn to face him, he brings his hands back to your hips. You know what he's doing from your few times of making out in bathrooms. He says a little ‘jump’ as he lifts you up onto the sink counter. Slipping himself into your legs, all in your personal space. 

He grabs a hand towel from below the sink and wets it. Neither of you are talking and the fact that you're so drunk your boyfriend has to clean you up is making you want to cry again. This was not how the night was supposed to go, you two were having such a nice time talking and dancing to the music. 

“I'm sorry baby, I really am.” He gently lifts your chin so you can look at him. His eyes are downturned, the sad expression that takes over his face is enough to have you break as well. 

“I’m sorry too, I didn't mean to drink so much. I was just having fun.” 

Steve can't help but think about how different this is to him and Nancy. Both of you apologizing even though nothing was done on purpose, neither of you have done anything wrong. No mentions of how your relationship was bullshit or you that weren't actually in love. 

The towel is nice and cold against your burning skin, he’s being so soft with you in this moment. You want to kiss him, the only time you are put onto bathroom counters is to kiss so it’s weird that you feel like you can't. 

“I’ll grab a shirt from Tommy’s room, you wanna wear mine?” The last thing Steve wants to happen is for the old pervs outside to see your completely see through white tank top. 

“Yeah, good idea.” He gives you a small smile and you feverishly give one back. 

He pats your thighs as he leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You hop back down on the ground and take your shirt off, allowing you to get more of the beer that is still on you. Now that a million people aren't surrounding you, you’re getting really cold. Goosebumps litter your skin and at the moment all you want to do is go home with Steve. 

When he comes back he is wearing a plain black shirt, the one he just had on in his hands. 

“Are you okay?” His voice comes out heart achingly sincere.

“M’okay, thank you.” Your arms wrap around him as you pull him into a hug. The beer also got your bra and he can feel how cold it is through his t-shirt. 

His hands rub up and down your back in hopes to warm you up and you giggle. 

“That tickles.” It murmured into his chest. 

“Let's get this shirt on and we can go yeah?” 

You nod letting go of him and he puts the shirt over your head. Each arm slips in their respective place and he opens the door, music and lights hit you immediately and it makes you even happier to get out of here. 

An arm wraps around your shoulders and both of you make your way to the car. It was a good idea for Steve to give you his shirt because the old men are still there, this time with even more bottles around them. 

When both of you get settled into the car you turn towards Steev and it makes him pause. 

“Kisses?” You ask, puckering your lips. 

He breaks into a smile, the famous Steve Harringotn one that took your heart the second you first saw it. His hands grab onto your cheeks and he pulls you into him. The kiss is passionate and strong, you are still drunk though so when you let out another giggle Steve doesn't hold you to it. 

He starts the car and puts it in drive as you kiss along his neck. You’re a big distraction when he’s driving home but it doesn't matter. When you get home he’ll run a bath for you and the spilt drink won't even be thought of. 

[fanged-fanfics]

Can I request headcannons for transformers x gn human reader who said they could hold their whole world in their hands then gently cupping their face?

☆ The World In Your Palm — Transformers x GN Human Reader ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Features Optimus, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Starscream, Soundwave, and Megatron

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Optimus

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Can you now? That's quite the goal"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He thinks it's another cute little human idea initially. A bit of a naive one maybe, but most earth ideas for "shooting for the stars" always confused him a bit. He also sort of sums it up to a hyperbole and doesn't ask much more about it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Until you offer to show him. That gets his attention. Humans are capable of incredible feats, yes, but how were you planning to prove such a thing? Much more visibly confused, he leans down like you ask him to

ᯓᡣ𐭩 As soon as your palms cup his cheekplates, he's even more bewildered. After thinking about it for a second, he chuckles, leaning into your touch as he uses a large hand to pull you a little closer. "That's very clever" he says with a smile "looks like I can hold the world in my hand too"

Ratchet

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Uh..huh. Good luck with that"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Completely doesn't understand the setup. The whole world?? This one? The giant ball in space holding billions of people? What's that supposed to mean? He assumes you're trying to bait him into a joke or something

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Then you ask him to lean down, and he's even more lost. If this is some sort of practical joke you'd learned from others, he wasn't excited for the outcome. But because it's you, he trusts it, bringing his face close enough for you to reach

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands cup his face, he's even more lost. He runs the situation over again in his heads a few times before it actually lands. He acts exasperated to cover up how flustered he is, lightly patting your head. "You humans, I swear... cute trick, kid"

Bumblebee

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Oh yeah? Go ahead, try, I wanna see it"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's amused at the idea. He knows you're likely not being literal, but he wants to see where it goes. He's had a lot of fun learning human jokes so far, what's one more to the list?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He leans down as soon as you asked, excited to see the expected punchline. He can't exactly see where it's going yet, but knowing you he hopes for the best and waits expectantly

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands land on his face, he has to take a second to get it. There's a bit of a 'is that... it?' moment where he's still waiting for the joke. Then it clicks all at once, and he gains a very obvious blush on his face. He cups his hands around your head, grinning widely "Well I can hold my whole world in just one hand! Beat that"

Starscream

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Ha! That bold, are you? Is there no end to your feeble little plans?"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He sounds a little mean about it, but it's just his usual teasing. Sort of in a 'that's nice honey' kind of way. He of course argues that if anyone is fit to carry the world, it would be him, obviously

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It takes some convincing to get him to kneel down. He pretends like he's oh so busy and has so many important things to do, but inevitably gives in and indulges your whims

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The second your hands reach his face, he gets it immediately. He stammered a bit, chuckling as he tried to brush it off. He didn't want it to be so obvious that something so small could fluster him, but he couldn't help it around you. "Ahem- well- you're very brave for being so forward! But I suppose I can allow you to hold on for a moment longer"

Soundwave

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Improbable. The world is too big for human hands"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Takes your words at direct face value. He's trying to be honest and let you down easy. He's got no idea how you somehow convinced yourself you were strong enough to pull that off, but he feels like he has to bring you back to reality

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's only confused when you ask him to come closer. What does this have to do with your claim? He leans down of course, but he doesn't understand what's happening

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands hold his face, he just pauses. He's about to correct you, but before the words can fully leave his mouth, he realizes what you're trying to say. He sighs from his vents as he holds onto your wrists. "I see. I.. can hold the world in mine, too"

Megatron

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Aiming big, aren't we? Your time will come"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He indulges your comment. He's promised you the world, everything his servos can carry. Of course it'll all be yours someday, he'll make sure of it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He leans down at your request, though he of course asks what you're planning. He can tell by your little grin whenever you've got something brewing in your head, but he allows it for the sake of it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He catches on the second you hold his face, and he chuckles in amusement. "Ah, that's what you meant" he said, leaning into the embrace "clever... for a human" he teases lightly

[bewitched-hours]

Hello! Yeah me again asking abt the noli and 07 yandere thing (lord I feel weird asking again I don’t want to be a bother) It’s just the last one you wrote was really and I mean really WELL written and I was hoping to ask for a part 2 of how things go? Hacking together, speaking, debating life—just quite cool! I already sent you the link of the past one I was talking about so I hope thats alright!

HI- YEAH- I SAW IT LOL I only saw it at school tbf so I'm starting it with this and have the story opened in another tab to make sure I don't forget anything (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

The reader's pronouns are once again She/They-

Pre-Forsaken

All three of you sat on opposite sides of 007 as you looked at the child in his arms.

"It's kinda cute..." You tried to end the silence comfortably as you could see the man soften. Noli didn't look so tough either for a change.

Though the red bundle of joy was giddy now, you knew it was only a matter of time until it got hungry...

"What are we meant to do with it..?" Noli asked quietly, watching as the baby held onto 007's fingers with glee. It honestly melted your heart a bit.

"I say we keep it." You state bluntly, surprised eyes meeting your own as you went to quickly explain yourself. "Think about it. If we drop it off somewhere else it would probably reach the same path as us if it survives anyways."

The two of them gave each other an unsure look before you gently lifted the child out of 7n7's arms with a huff. "I'm not saying we'd be great parents or anything but it'd definitely be better than the foster system or death." Your tone was firm but they could tell you were empathising with that little red face giggling up at you.

Maybe you were trying to prove something to yourself. That you were better than your family? Maybe that you can actually take care of something meaningful?

Whatever, it wasn't like either of them could say no by the time you started cooing at the baby all motherly.

"Heh, guess you're right." 007 perked up first, getting you to smile a bit more.

Wether it was to make you happy or they actually liked the idea, you couldn't care less. What mattered was that this child was safe with you.

"We should totally call it after the c00lgui." You commented with a chuckle, having Noli cackling and 007 trying to suppress his laugh.

"Yeah- no- this is good- So c00lkidd?" He suggested, letting out a laugh at your grinning nod. It was silly, it was unusual...

It was perfect.

"It'll be the perfect addition! Plus, I have some experience back when I had a babysitting gig to save up some money as a kid myself. We'll just need to get a few things and c00lkidd is gonna be spoiled with love!" You practically beamed and placed a gentle kiss on the little one's head, going back to cooing at it as it giggled in your arms.

Being a family might just be easier than you thought...

Post-Forsaken

For once, 007 probably appreciated being an outsider.

It meant more time with you. More time with Noli.

You were quick to figure out a spot to all meet in where neither killers nor survivors would even hear you.

It was perfect, especially whenever Noli decided to bring along c00lkidd and you could just talk for a while.

CK loved you. He loved the idea of having a big family like this where you could be his mom. You played nice and fair and actually managed to tire him out at times.

Though he didn't understand why it was such a taboo to play tag outside of rounds, he trusted your explanation that it was because it was less fun with only you four and the other survivors wouldn't be willing to listen to you or 007.

And CK knew the other killers were even less willing so...

But you'd always promise that once you get back home, you'll be the best mother to c00lkidd. And he took it as a good promise to make before saying his goodbyes and waiting for the next round.

You were committed to being the mother c00lkidd needed and the 'wife' that 007n7 and Noli deserved...

A bit disappointed with how this turned out but I tried my best-

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[neveragent]

Suddenly married?

Summary: You only wanted to go out with your friends but ended up in the arms of someone.

Warning: sex and mention of rape

A/N: Don't use them as an example for relationships. You shouldn't marry this soon after meeting each other!

I was out with my friends. The evening was still young and we decided to go to a bar at the beach.

The hard deck

It seemed quite nice. Usually, I wasn't a person who was going out.

"So, how was your week?" My best friend Linda asked. "Just the usual stuff. Some emergencies... but also some people where you wonder why you think that they think that they needed to come to the ER," I summed it up. I was a doctor in the ER. It had always been my dream to help people and the ER was the only place where I felt usefull.

Amber put a shot in front of me. I looked up at her. "You know that I don't do that." "Oh, c'mon, it's weekend. Let yourself have some fun," she whined. I sighed. "Okay." She laughed and jumped around, clapping in her hands in joy.

"Okay, truth or dare?" Amber asked me, already a bit tipsy. I looked over at Linda, who was staring at her glass blankly. She always became like that when she was drunk. "Okay, dare," I answered, feeling the alcohol messing with my mind.

"Okay, you see those guys over there?" She mumbled and pointed at the pool table. There was a group of colleagues, maybe friends. According to their uniforms, they were working for the Navy. "I am drunk, not blind." "Okay, go over to them and flirt with one of them." I sighed. "Are you kidding me?" "Nope." "Okay, see you later."

I walked over, having to concentrate on not tripping. After some seconds, I reached the one with a nice smile. "Hey." He turned around with a fabulous smile. "Hey, darling." "You're having a cute smile." Yes, I was definitely drunk. "Thanks. I like yours too," he laughed.

"Who is that?" I heard a female voice behind the gorgeous man. "A beautiful woman," he answered while looking into my eyes. "I am not talking about her." He sighed and turned back to the woman and followed her gaze after that. I did the same.

A young man was sitting on a bar stool with some distance. He was wiping away the crumbs from his lap. Suddenly, he looked up. "When did you get in?" My handsome counterpart asked. "Oh, I've been here the whole time." "Man's a stealth pilot." I giggled at that comment. "Literally," another man answered. "Weapon System Officer, actually." He grinned. He was cute. And quite innocent. "With no sense of humor." The man gave his poolstick to the woman. "How about a drink?" He asked, turning around to me.

I looked back at him. "Nah, thanks." Suddenly, I was very interested in the Weapon System Officer. "Are you for real now?" I nodded and he answered with an annoyed sigh.

"What do they call you?" The woman asked as soon as the man was gone. "Bob," the cute man answered with a shy smile. "No, your call sign," a man behind the woman said. Bob looked down, hesitating. "Bob." "Bob Floyd? From Lemoore?" The young man nodded. "Lemoore, TopGun? You seem to be a good aviator," I grinned. If I hadn't been drunk, I would have never said that. I wouldn't even have interacted with them. Not because they were from the Navy (I do respect them a lot) but because I would've been too scared. I have always been an introvert.

Bob looked down in embarrassment. "Thanks." I went to him and stopped in front of him. "You're god damn cute," I whispered, touching his hair. His big innocent eyes looked right into mine. "Sorry, I am drunk." For the first time, I heard him giggle. "You're cute too." That made me smile.

I shot a glance behind him, where my friends were still standing. They laughed and seemed very entertained.

"When I am drunk, I tend to make stupid decisions sometimes..." "That's why I rarely drink." "Me neither. But my friends made me." "Doesn't sound like they're great." I huffed. "Without them I wouldn't be standing here right now." "Wanna get out of here?" I looked back into his eyes. "Yours or mine?" His eyes went wide in shock. "Oh, I... I didn't mean it like that." "Then how did you mean it?" "Maybe a walk on the beach? To sober you up again." "Gosh, you're such a sweet guy." "Just doin' what my mum taught me." "How am I supposed to know that you won't rape me?" "You can't. But I swear I won't. I would never hurt a woman." I sighed. "Okay, I'm gonna trust you on this." I grabbed his hand and dragged him outside to the beach.

"So, Bob, tell me about yourself," I said, enjoying the cold sand and water under my feet. "There isn't much to tell. My name is Bob and I fly for the Navy," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the ground. "There has to be more." "No, really." "Where do you come from?" "Texas. I grew up on a ranch." "A ranch? And you say there is nothing to tell about you? Tell me about your childhood on the ranch." "Okay, ehm... so, I learned riding when I was a little boy. My parents have cows..." He looked at the ocean.

"I loved those sunny afternoons where I was at the river. It was all warm, and you could smell nature. It was the best feeling in the world. I was lying in the sun for hours. My mum was always yelling at me when I came home with sunburned skin. But I was too naïve to think about it. Nowadays she always sends me sun creme for birthdays or other occasions. And I do use it. Before every flight." "That's sweet." He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't wanna have her sit next to me in the hospital one day and get another lecture." "Very smart of you." I smiled. "Now tell me about yourself." I sat down in the cold sand, thinking about what would be okay to tell him. "Before I start, you should know that I am quickly oversharing stories about myself. Tell me when to stop." He nodded. "Okay, so... I grew up in New York. My parents own a restaurant, actually. They always wanted me to take it over one day but that wasn't my world. So, I left to study medicine. Now, I am working at the ER. I have lived here for two years." "ER? Sounds like a stressful job." "It is. But I am saving lives. That feels great." "I believe that." "But sometimes..." I stopped. It was weird to speak that openly. "Sometimes what?" "Sometimes I struggle with everything. Everything feels very monotonously at the moment." "Monotonously? In the ER?" "No, not there but every other thing in my life." "I understand that. The only thing I do besides my job is going to this bar. Every Friday." I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder.

"I have an idea." "What?" "Let's marry." "You are still drunk." "No, I am not." Of course, there was still alcohol in my blood but thanks to the wind I could think straight. "We barely know each other." "That's the whole point." Bob looked out to the sea. "I am a Navy officer. I have to travel a lot. So, either we would see each other rarely or you would also have to leave." "That's a problem for later." "And also-" He stopped when I was sitting down on his lap. "Why not doing something crazy for once in your life?" Bob was silent. For some long seconds. Then he leaned forward and smashed his lips onto mine. His were moving sloppy but with emotions. He wrapped his arms around my body and pressed us together. He tasted like mint, peanuts, and something else I couldn't identify. One of his hands wandered under my dress on my hip bone. "Okay, let's do it," he whispered. I grinned, jumped up from his lap and started dancing around. Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind and before I could realise anything else, we both were in the water. His shy personality was gone and he kissed me again. "Your uniform," I whispered. "Who cares. That's a problem for tomorrow." I laughed and pressed my lips on his once again. It was like a passionate dance. He touched my lips with his tongue and when I opened them, his was touching mine. I've never felt so good before. "So, we'll marry tomorrow?" I put some distance between our faces. "Why tomorrow and not today?" "Is the courthouse still open?" He looked at his watch. "15 minutes. We can make it if we're fast. My car is in front of the bar."

We were running to the bar, which wasn't really easy with the sand. But we made it. We rushed through it and I didn't even tell my friends where I was going. I heard the man who I was flirting with earlier saying some teasing words about Bob but didn't pay attention to it.

While Bob was driving, his pinky was connected with mine. "Do you think they'll marry us this late?" "I will find a way to convince them, trust me," he grinned. And somehow, I knew that it was the truth.

As soon as we arrived, we couldn't make it fast enough inside. The lady at the reception seemed a bit annoyed. I probably would've done as well, if I was there and two people who were soaking wet came in three minutes before closing time. "How can I help you?" "We want to get married," Bob answered. "Come back tomorrow. The person in charge did already leave." Bob reached into his pocket and pulled his Common Access Card out of it. "I am leaving for a mission and it's very likely that I won't come back. Please, let me marry her," he begged. I knew he acted but something in his eyes was also showing honesty. The receptionist grabbed the phone and called someone. After she hung up, she turned back to us again. "The Judge will be here in 10 minutes. Please, take a seat."

I was sitting on Bob's lap. "Is it true?" I whispered. "I won't leave tomorrow. But in some weeks. We don't know any details yet but I met the team. It's only the best of the best. Seems like a serious thing." "You have to come back. I don't wanna be a widow." "Tell that Phoenix. She is flying the jet. Not me." I kissed his cheek.

"You may kiss your bride." Bob leaned down to me and his lips touched mine. I giggled into the kiss and I felt Bob grinning. We signed some paperwork and went out of the courthouse.

"Where should we go? Your place or mine?" Bob whispered into the silent evening air. "Mine. We should have one night when we don't have to worry about the Navy and your mission."

He was sitting on my bed when I went out of the bathroom. "I like your place. It's cozy." "Thank you." I tiptoed towards my bed. He was leaning against the headboard, and I sat down at the end of the mattress. We were staring at each other for some minutes. No one of us knew what to do or say. Suddenly, my phone rang. "Sorry," I whispered and reached out for the mobile on my nightstand. "Hello?" "Honey, where are you?" I recognized the voice as Amber's. "Home?" She gasped. "With the Navy guy?" "With Bob, yes," I smiled. "However, I have to hang up." "Wait? Are you okay? Are you in danger? The two of you disappeared quite fast." "I am fine," I answered and hung up. "That took long for your friends to ask where you are." I shrugged my shoulders and looked back to Bob. My body was working on autopilot when I crawled on his lap. His hands were grabbing my hip. "Mrs Floyd..." I stopped in my movements when I heard my new last name. "I like that." "Me too," he whispered and kissed my lips. "What will we tell our children without setting a bad example?" "I'll tell them that I saw their mum and fell in love. So madly that we married shortly after." "You fell in love?" Was that true or just storytelling? "How could you not love a doctor who sacrifices so much to save other people? A woman who loves adventures? Who has crazy ideas?" "Nobody has ever said such nice things to me." "I can't believe that." "But it's the truth," I mumbled with tears in my eyes. "Then you should make new friends. I think Phoenix is nice. I don't really know her but I think the two of you would be great friends." "Gosh, you're so cute," I whispered and smashed my lips on his. His arms wrapped around my lower back and I reached with my hands for his glasses. I felt that he was hesitating, but I continued. I put the glasses off his nose and placed them next to my phone. "And there I was thinking you couldn't get any cuter." "T-Thanks." I started to open the buttons of his shirt. After he pulled off the white t-shirt, I was staring at his abs. "Wow. Just wow." "You don't become a naval aviator by just reading some books." "I never thought about that. Those glasses with your face just made you look... more cuddly." "Did you just call me fat?" He acted hurt. "No. There's a difference between cuddly and fat." "Are you disappointed?" I refused to answer. "Oh my god, you are!" "No. It's just... normally, I am not into trained guys. Are you one of those with their protein shakes and overly healthy food?" "I could die on any mission. Why would I waste my time with living annoyingly healthy when pizza does exist?" I smiled. "Great, then I don't have a problem with you having muscles." "That's good."

His hand wandered under my dess. I felt his soft skin running over my thigh before he pulled the fabric over my head very softly. I was thankful that I chose my lace bra instead of my everyday one. Maybe all of this was destiny. I felt his penis pressing against the fabric of his pants right between my thighs. After him also losing his beige pants, I kissed him again. His fingers were playing with my bra on my back. "You can take it off." "You sure?" I nodded and worked my way down to his neck with my lips. Finally, he snapped it open, and I threw it next to my bed, where all the other stuff was lying already. I earned a small moan from his lips. "Are you sure you wanna do this." I nodded. "And you?" "I've never been this sure of anything else ever before." He lay me down on the bed and sat down in front of my legs. After he took both of our underwear off, he took a moment when he just looked at me. It didn't feel uncomfortable. He wasn't looking at me like I was a meal he was going to devours, but like I was a piece of art. "You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen." I was blushing. No one ever made me blush before. But Bob did it. I had a few partners before and all of them treated me like an object or a woman without needs. But Bob? He wasn't going for my boobs first. Or my vagina. He was leaning down to my lips again. Like they were saving him from drowning. "Tell me if I do something you don't enjoy, okay?" "I will," I whispered. His penis was touching my vagina, which made me gasp in surprise. It made him giggle. "You sure?" I nodded and then he slipped into me. I moaned and grabbed his back. He slipped all his way in, very slowly, so he wouldn't hurt me. I don't know how Bob did it or what kind of a god he was, but he reached my g point with his first thrust. "God, Bob, this feels so good," I moaned and digged my nails into his flesh. "Yes, it does," he squeezed out the words. He pulled out for a few centimeters before he glided back into me. His lips were pressed to the corner of my mouth when I let out another moan. My whole body was tickling. It might sound stupid since we just started, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could do this. I wasn't like Linda, who opened her legs to any male human who started a conversation with her. A lot of needs were inside of me, which made it even harder to resist the orgasm. "God, I'm close," I whispered after Bob's third thrust. "Me too," he whined. I felt his thick member gliding inside of me once more. This time, it was more sloppy and less careful. But I still liked it. I felt his vein pumping the blood through his body when he reached my g spot once again. My legs were wrapping around his torso to get him deeper. The next thrust made me scream in joy. His precum was filling me. His neck was getting sweaty, and I could smell some of his testosterone. "Oh my god, you feel so good," he whined before coming. His hot liquid was filling me up, which made me moan. His face was pressed into my neck. His right hand was grabbing one of mine from his back and pressed it on his chest. "I love you," he breathed in my ear. That did something to my brain and only seconds later, that electric feeling filled me. My hand from his back wandered to his neck and hugged him tightly. He let me ride out my orgasm and only slowed down when I was a whining mess under him. "That felt so good," he whispered. I wasn't able to say anything and just nodded. "Your cheeks are all puffy," he laughed. "And you are having tears in your eyes."

He rolled his body off of mine. I was about to play with his hair but stopped when I noticed something red on my nails. "Bob, did I hurt you?" I asked, alarmed. "No, you didn't, honey." "Bobby, turn around." He sighed and turned on his belly. Yes, I did hurt him. There were bloody prints of my nails on his back. "Oh my god, I will get something to clean it." "No, you don't have-" I was already in the bathroom.

He hissed when I put some sanitizer on it. "I am very sorry." "Don't be. And now come back to bed." "Should I get us some water first?" I asked. "No, don't worry. I just wanna cuddle." I laughed and lay down next to him. "You know? I am very excited what our future might bring us." "Me too, Bobby, me too."

[croquis-el]

I just want to get them as a gift

or

How Naruhodō knew about flowers

In addition to ladders and stepladders, which are the unofficial symbol of the franchise, there is another topic that receives a lot of attention.

Flowers and plants.

We know that Naruhodō inherited an amazingly resilient plant named Charlie, and how carefully he takes care of it, despite the fact that he does not remember its scientific name.

Is everything that sad?

思ったとおり、造花だ。

Just as I thought, it's an artificial flower.

ひまわりとチューリップ以外、 ぼくは花の名前は知らない。

I don't know the names of any flowers except for sunflowers and tulips.

お花がかざってあるよ。

ね。なんていうお花かな。

There are flowers on it.

Hey. I wonder what kind of flowers they are.

ひまわりでもチューリップでもないみたいだね。

It's neither a sunflower nor a tulip.

According to him, he can only tell tulips and sunflowers apart from all the different types of flowers. But! Case 4-5 gives us some additional information. Naruhodō learned what roses look like. Yey!

(バラの花、か････ キザな感じだな

(Rose flowers... how cheesy.)

There is another interesting point here.

Naruhodo uses the word きざ (気障) kiza - affected, smug, pompous, snobby, cheesy.

He literally says that pomposity and banality are in the spirit of Kirihito Garyu (Kristoph Gavin). Well, briefly about the true thoughts about the "friend".

何かしら? 成歩堂龍一。

その、手に持ったチューリップは。

What is it, Naruhodo Ryuichi?

What's that tulip in your hand?

チューリップ read as tulip

Even when Mei Karuma (Franziska von Karma) was hospitalized, he came to her with tulips. Ahem, with a tulip. One. (*quietly screams*) There is no indication of quantity in the sentence.

No wonder Mei was making fun of him. He could have at least bought a bouquet.

The houseplants are also a big sad story.

最高級の観葉植物だ。

It's a top-quality houseplant.

名前はわからないが、 どうせ高いんだろう。

I don't know the name, but it's probably expensive.

New classification! Let's write it down. Option 1: the expensive look houseplant. Option 2: a regular houseplant.

But! A poor understanding does not mean that a person does not like flowers.

向かいの花輪にくらべて、 さらにゴージャスだ。

It's even more gorgeous than the flower wreath opposite.

ゴージャス (gōjasu) - gorgeous

弁護士にも花輪があればいいのにな。

It would be nice if lawyers also had flower wreaths.

“成歩堂さん江依頼人一同”････とか。

"All clients of Naruhodo-san"...or something like that.

Naruhodō used the word 花輪 (hanawa) - flower wreath, flower garland

花 (hana): flower

輪 (wa): ring, circle, wreath

Its usage and symbolism are very specific and closely related to various ceremonies (opening business, events, festivals).

Hanawa are a fairly formal way of expressing feelings. They are rarely given as a personal gift between friends (for this purpose, bouquets 花束 (hanataba) are used).

There is a hint of regrets.

いいのに (ii noni) : "It would be nice if..." or "It's a shame that..." This is an expression of regret, a wish that something were different.

When he saved clients from jail, but didn't get a thank you wreath :(

Flower arrangements are "gorgeous" in his opinion (a reference to Max Galactika from 2-3), so he obviously likes them a lot. Someone give him a bouquet of sunflowers, make a good boy happy.

[cantstoptheimagines]

All Tied Up (Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Usopp | One Piece)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Luffy’s dream of tying you to the main mast comes to fruition. Zoro and Usopp join the fun.

Warnings and Other Tags ➳ Another pirate smut for the collection (rough foursome; free use (human fleshlight vibes at certain points); exhibitionism (fucking on deck but no one’s around to see); oral (female receiving); penetration (vaginal); overstimulation; bondage; hair-pulling; fingering and pussy slapping; creampies and facials; spanking; degradation and name-calling; biting and licking).

Notes ➳ Word Count is 2,283. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her).

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

Uncontrollable pants filled your ear at the sound of skin on skin echoed in the air. Zoro’s heavy balls slapped your clit with every thrust of his hips, sinking his aching cock deep into your entrance over and over. His efforts were made simply by your position.

It was one Luffy had pleaded to see you in for weeks. In the middle of his ship’s deck, you’re bent over a wine barrel, hips digging into the wood while your legs and feet dangle weakly. Incapable of touching the wooden deck, they swung back and forth with every harsh thrust against your backside. Yours arms have been stretched out in front of you, all so your wrists could be tied to the main mast of the Sunny. The knot securing them there was formed with one of Luffy’s infamous pirate flags. 

The sight of you, according to your captain, was nothing short of delectable. And his description must have been somewhat accurate, given the eagerness in joining the fun both Zoro and Usopp had expressed when they had first wandered onto the deck that morning. And Luffy, being Luffy, was always happy to share. 

On your right, he grinned down at you while stroking his long, twitching cock, “Perfect day for this, isn’t it? Nice and clear, easy to focus our attention on using you.”

Your response is incoherent, muffled by the fabric of your underwear. Usopp, moaning intensely on your left, slapped his own leaking tip against your cheek, and spoke up, “Can’t say anything, huh? Keep quiet next time and maybe I won’t need to shove something in that pathetic mouth of yours.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. Had that really been why Usopp had forced your underwear into your mouth? Did he not like your moans? Were you being too loud this time—?

You let out another muffled gasp after Zoro gave a particularly rough thrust into your core. His large hands dug into the flesh of your ass as he huffed, “Give her a break, Usopp! It’s hard work, taking cum all day. We’ve gotta let her squeal at least a couple times. She’s earned it after letting us bend her over like this.”

One of his hands slapped your backside, drawing out one of those squeals he had just mentioned. Usopp didn’t have much time to think of a response before a wave of pleasure raked over his spine. His orgasm burst from the tip of his cock. Creamy, white ropes of his release splattered onto your face. His length twitched with every spurt. 

Once his release had subsided, Usopp smiled with a deep moan, “Damn, that was good. Bet you like all that cum on your pretty face, huh?”

“My turn! Ah! My—! My turn now!” demanded Luffy.

His hand fiercely stroked his own length, attempting to reach a quicker finish. One squeeze of his balls sent him over the edge. Another wave of cum sprayed onto your sweaty skin. Luffy’s fingers wove themselves into your hair as his other hand aimed his cock’s mushroom head at your face. His release mixed with Usopp’s, leaving white beads dribbling down your forehead and along your nose.

Behind you, Zoro let out an amused laugh. He yanked your hips, roughly dragging your tight entrance on and off his thick length. With his strength, it didn’t require much effort. His teeth filled out a feral grin, “Bet they’re gonna wish they came in your pussy more when they had you to themselves this morning. It’s mine now though, I’m taking it over. Look at ‘em, trying to get it back up.”

He was right. Both Luffy and Usopp were already stroking themselves back to life, desperate for more.

“Fuck!” grunted Zoro, his thrusts becoming more frantic. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum! Get ready, I’ve been saving this for you all day. Gonna fill up that tight womb with my cum, got it?”

He rocked you against the wine barrel, occasionally readjusting your position with a grumble whenever you got knocked out of place. The wood made your hips and pelvis ache with each of Zoro’s unyielding tugs on your body. Even now and then, you’d get a peek at your clenched toes whenever they were forced to swing forward enough. 

“Filthy little cunt, it’s always so damn tight,” he groaned, your muffled cries causing warmth to pool in his tightening abdomen. “Take it! I’m dumping everything inside, take it all! Suck in my load with your pussy, c’mon, taking my fucking cum! Oh, fuck, you little slut! Hah!”

He spread your cheeks for a better view, gritting his teeth at the sight of his cock sinking into you one last time. His balls pulsed, flush against your clit. His cum flooded your walls and painted your insides white. 

“Shit, that’s it. Take it all in there,” he muttered, slowly easing his length out of your entrance. He gripped himself with one hand and then struck the quivering head of his cock against your unused asshole. Still exposed by his other hand groping your plump flesh, your tightest entrance clenched around Zoro’s thumb when it sank inside. “Gonna ruin this one later. Need to get some energy back first.” 

He slapped your sore cheeks a few times before smearing his cum through your sensitive folds as it oozed out of your wet hole. Finally, with another few taps of his leaking cockhead, he stuffed himself back into his pants and sauntered off. 

Luffy wasted no time in taking Zoro’s place. His hips collided with your bare skin as he bottomed out inside you. His hands pressed against your lower back, forcing your spine into a deep arch as he began thrusting at a fast pace. You couldn’t help but whine through your makeshift gag.

“Zoro got you all stretched out! He’s too big for you!” he huffed angrily. “He’ll ruin you for the rest of us if he keeps stealing so many turns with your pussy. Why d’you let him do that, huh?”

“Mmph! Mmph! Mm—Mmph!” was all he got in response. Over and over, his cock sank into you, your wetness squelching out around him with each movement.

Usopp slowly stroked himself to the sight of his friend making you go cross-eyed, “That’s it, pretty thing. Enough about Zoro. You’re gonna cum on Luffy’s cock now, aren’t you?”

His words seemed to only bring Luffy closer to a release upon hearing them. You whimpered when Luffy pressed his chest against your back, restricting your movements even further. One of his hands tightly gripped onto your shoulder. Meanwhile, the other reached around your head, allowing Luffy’s large, sweaty palm to press against your forehead. He forcefully pushed your head back as he panted into your ear.

“Pretty pussy,” he muttered, only seeking the pleasure your body offered him. “My crew’s pretty, perfect pussy, all tied up. Ugh! So good, this pussy’s so good, wanna eat it.”

Still stroking himself, Usopp stepped closer, reached beneath your swaying body, and found your swollen clit, “Let me help ya out.”

“Yes, yes!” cried Luffy.

Although the feeling of Usopp attacking your clit with his fingers was almost too much for you, neither of them seemed to care. Tears welled up in your eyes while your cunt clenched around Luffy’s cock. His speed was so fast, it could be considered inhumane. He offered your pussy no relief.

Instead, he cried and huffed and whimpered into your ear upon feeling the increasing tightness of your sopping entrance. It wasn’t until Usopp struck at your aching clit, pulling your own squirting release from your cunt, that Luffy’s resolve finally broke.

He sank his length deep into your walls while his teeth suddenly dug into your temple. Rope after rope of hot cum shot into your wet cunt. All the while, Luffy’s bite shifted to your cheek and then to the side of your neck as his eyes rolled back. To anyone else, he probably looked akin to a wild animal, desperate to mark and breed its mate.

Usopp gasped, tearing his hand away from his cock before his own release could wash over him. However, he continued his assault on your overstimulated clit, grinning as you twitched and whined uncontrollably.

“What’s that?” he mocked. He then pulled your underwear out of your mouth, and chuckled, “Speak up, cutie. C’mon.”

“Please, please, ugh! Please, wait!” you cried out. A gasp fell from your lips when Luffy’s teeth released your neck, only for his tongue to repeatedly run over your sweaty skin. “Luffy, need you—hah—to slow down! Too much!”

“Almost done,” muttered Luffy, though he listened to your pleas regarding his pace, and pulled his cock out of your entrance. However, it was quickly replaced with his tongue when he knelt behind you, and said, “Still wanna eat.”

Usopp groped your ass, spreading your cheeks for Luffy, who gripped your shaking thighs. His long tongue ran over your folds once, then twice, before it sank into you.

Usopp teased your asshole, much like Zoro had done earlier when he was still on deck, while Luffy took a deep whiff of your arousal. Your captain’s mouth explored your wetness carelessly, panting and slurping. His release from just moments ago, now mixed with your own, dripped into his awaiting mouth. He let out a series of satisfied groans, sinking his nails deep into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Pussy tastes—yes—so good! Need it! Don’t squirm too much! Put it back in my mouth, c’mon, your clit! There you go! Mmph! Yes, yes!”

“Cum again,” ordered Usopp. “Cum on his tongue so I can put my dick in you already, c’mon!”

Your vision blurs as another orgasm washes over your body. You hardly realize it when Luffy gets in one last lick before he walks away with a satisfied grin, his softening cock swinging between his legs with every step. He toyed with his balls while making his way to the kitchen.

“My chance with you now, pretty thing,” muttered Usopp, disappearing from your sight to take his place behind you. “Talk to me. You still feel good?”

Every part of you lies still, your limbs weak. You’re panting uncontrollably, trying to catch your breath from your time with Luffy. You can only hum in response to his question. Quietly, Usopp laughed from behind you, and you can’t help but shudder when a warm hand runs over your spine.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, only to groan when he took a glance at your soaked folds. “Those two always fuck you up, huh? I think you can take another round though.” 

Usopp abruptly shoved into you, stretching you even further. You can’t stop a loud, surprised cry from escaping your lips. One of his hands wrapped itself in your hair while the other reached around to grasp your throat. He quickly yanks your head as far back as he can manage. Your back is arched at an almost impossible angle, not that he seemed to care.

Hunching over you, Usopp cursed and immediately set a quick, unforgiving pace with his thrusts. He resists the urge to choke you every time your throat pulses beneath his palm with a new plea for him to slow down. Instead, he leans over you enough to lick the sweat that beads on your temple. 

“Ours, ours,” he groaned. “Pussy’s ours. Wanna fill you up and leave you tied up for everyone to see. Want every ship passing by to know whose cum is dripping outta your guts.”

“Usopp, ugh!” you whined, gasping each time his hips smacked your aching backside. “Please! Can’t do it again!”

“Can’t do what, huh? Cum?” he chuckled with a deep huff. “You don’t need to worry about it—fuck, baby! I’m taking care of that for ya. Yeah, I’ll make you cum again, just as soon as I’m through with this pussy of yours, m’kay?”

Your eyes squeezed shut and you were unable to do anything but pant and whine as Usopp had his way with you. He hissed into your ear, occasionally licking your skin, as he dug his nose into your temple.

With his eyes rolled back and his teeth clenched, Usopp's hips become a blur. His thrusts are so quick, so rough, that you’re beginning to experience whiplash.

“Gonna do it, fuck!” he panted. “I’m gonna cum in this cute, little pussy! You do it with me, okay? You hear me? I’m going to make you cum!”

One hand forces your head down against the barrel while the other dives between your legs to torture your aching clit. Usopp is practically drooling with pleasure as your release finally overtakes his pulsing cock.

He slaps your clit a few times as you orgasm with a loud cry. He pounds into you harder and harder until he’s flooding your insides with his own release. With thick, white cum frothing out onto his balls, he grunts and pants into your ear, still occasionally licking your sweaty flesh.

He doesn’t pull out until his cock is soft and unable to continue with another round. Not for lack of trying, however. Usopp does his best to stroke himself back to life, slapping his throbbing tip against your twitching asshole upon spreading you open with a large palm, but it’s all to no avail.

Realizing he’s unfortunately spent, he finally gives up on stroking his overstimulated, twitching cock. He runs his fingers through your folds instead, admiring the excessive amount of cum that oozes and drips out of your used body.

“Get some rest,” he said, slapping your backside one last time. “I think Sanji’s got something special planned for you later.”

[salmoninnit]

Wish You Stayed

ex!satoru gojo x reader x crush?!choso kamo pt. 1 - pt. 2

The sound of your phone buzzing awoke you from your sleep, with a groan you reach for it and open your eyes slightly. 

Satoru: Morning, you fell asleep in the car and wouldn’t wake up. I brought you upstairs and made sure to lock up before leaving. I left some alka-seltzer pills that are on your bedside table. Feel better

Same old Satoru as he was before, caring and considerate towards you even after not speaking for years. A part of you wanted to see this as a good thing but another part felt like you can’t just go back. People change in 3 years, you’ve changed in 3 years.

Nothing ever can be the same, it can only get better or worse. 

A part of you from last night wanted to see how things played out with Choso while another part of you wanted to run back to Satoru. 

You: morning, thank you for bringing me up and for the tablets. my head is pounding

He instantly replied to your message.

Satoru: Yea of course, need anything else to feel better?

You bit your lip, you wanted to ask for something just to see him. But you knew better to do that to yourself. Him being here, taking care of you? It was asking to become putty in his hands and with how shitty you feel, it’d work and rewire everything. 

You: no ill be fine! thank you for offering :) Satoru: Okay, just let me know if you do

You thumbs up the message and toss your phone on the bed. It was 10 am and thankfully you didn’t have plans. You reluctantly got up and grabbed the tablets he left for you. Letting them sizzle in the water as you go to the bathroom. 

Splashing water in your face after you freshened up felt like falling into a cold pool. You shivered as you patted your face dry. Heading back to your room you drank the water. Feeling a little less groggy as you climbed back into bed. Playing some random youtube video and laying down. 

You don’t know how long it took but you were again awoken by a buzzing from your phone. Sighing you flip it over and see it’s 2 pm and the buzzing was now a text from a random number. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey it’s Choso. did you make it home safe last night? 

A flutter appeared in your stomach as you smiled. Adding his contact and replying back. 

You: hey! yea i did, a friend dropped me off. i drank so much, im suffering the consequences of my own actions Choso: i’m glad to hear you made it safe. how much did you end up drinking for you to feel that bad?  You: i lost count after my fourth round of shots and 3 drinks deep tbh Choso: one hell of a reunion for you and your friends huh?

You giggled as you tried to recount how many drinks you actually had. Kento’s beer, a mojito, two drinks with Choso, 2 shots, another mojito, another shot, another mojito, and maybe 3 other shots? No way you drank that much, your bank account shall suffer and you shall not check it. 

You: yea it was. i’ve seen most of them except one throughout these past three years and so this was the first time we were all together since highschool Choso: that’s nice, im glad you had fun. I had fun with you last night 

You feel your cheeks warm as you giggle. It really was nice talking to him, it was easy and he was kind but also intimidating. He was tall and built, probably not as tall as Suguru or Satoru. But his build definitely matched similar to theirs. 

You: i did too, would definitely take you up on that date you mentioned :P Choso: are you available tomorrow? 5 pm?  You: yea! what is the setting? how should i dress? Choso: anything you want, you’ll be pretty and fit in anywhere i have planned :) You: okay then, i’ll see you then :)

He hearts your message and you send your address to him. 

Either that alka-seltzer put in the work or the idea of a date with Choso made you feel so much better. 

You sigh as you look up at the ceiling, this was just the start of whatever will be your next few months of whatever the fuck is happening with Satoru and Choso. After 3 years of nothing romantic, all of a sudden two men appear. Even though Satoru hasn’t explicitly said he wants you (you saw him once, maybe you are a bit delusional), there was a feeling in your gut that said he does. The stares, the way he talks a bit quieter when he speaks to you, and the way he just is the old him when you were together. Less brash and nowhere near as affectionate (for obvious reasons), he still looked at you the same way he did before. 

You don’t know if he ever stopped looking at you that way, even when breaking up. Yea it was on mutual terms but the look in his eyes as you agreed to it, held every emotion he still carried for you. 

And he still carried that look in his eyes 3 years later. 

A part of you yearned for it, wish you spoke to him sooner. But you didn’t dare to reach out and neither did he. So what was the point? Still being in love with your high school sweetheart, mutual affection both ways but at the same time, you both loved old versions of each other. 

What if we changed so drastically and once found out, it wasn’t there? Would there be a point in bringing up old emotions from a previous time? From previous versions of you?

You didn’t know and didn’t want to think about it much longer.

So you let the day move on, eating and resting. The alcohol killed you but at least you hadn’t thrown up. Pretty sure the alka-seltzer really did work overtime for you. 

Lounging on your couch at 8 pm, playing a tv show and laying on your side. A knock on your door echoed through the apartment as you lowered the volume of the tv. You made your way to the door and looked through the peephole. On the other side stood Satoru, wearing a hoodie with digimon character and jeans. Your heart did a small flip as you opened the door. 

“Hey”, you said with a smile. 

“Hey, sorry for showing up like this. Wasn’t sure if you had eaten and was in the area. So I got you your favorite - or old favorite pho”, Satoru said as he held up a bag from your favorite spot. 

“It’s okay, thank you. Come in”, you say as you move aside for him to walk in. He takes off his shoes and makes his way to the table. He starts taking out the pho containers and setting them up, then he sits casually in the chair just like he used to before, like it was second nature for him.  

You shut the door and make your way to the fridge, grabbing two sodas, one coke and one dr pepper. Proceeding to the table as you sat across from him, placing the coke in front of him and grabbing your portion of the food. 

“I got you the same as before, hope you didn’t switch that”, he laughed as he opened his container. Popping the top part out and dumping it onto the noodles. Then filling the container with broth. You followed suit and let the noodles soften. 

“You know you didn’t have to do this right?”, you say as you look at him. He’s adorning a smile and now you take notice he isn’t wearing his glasses. His eyes are set on you and speaking a million words. 

“I know but it felt like a nice thing to do, plus I haven’t seen you in ages. Thought it’d be nice to just hang out”, he says as he looks down at his soup. Satoru had debated this for hours since the morning. He was hoping you’d tell him you need something, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat to see you again. Even though he doesn’t feel like he has that right anymore, he was willing to do anything to make it be his right again. 

“This is nice, I honestly was craving this after my shitty excuse for food earlier. Made a burnt grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup from a can”, you laugh as you stir your noodles around, breaking them from their mold of a circle. 

“You could’ve asked, I told you just to let me know”, he says softly as he mimics your actions with the soup. He cracks open his drink and takes a sip from it. “Still remember my likes, like I remember yours”.

“Well hard to forget when we ate and drank much of the same things back then”, you laugh and start eating your pho. 

“Fair enough, it’s like it’s embedded into my brain”, Satoru says as he starts eating. 

You fell into a silence of eating and the only thing being heard was the tv and you two eating. It felt domestic, it felt like it did before. The time changed and yet you’re still here, sitting across each other in the same way, eating the same foods you two would get, and being comfortable with each other. 

As you were finishing your pho, your phone rang on the table. You glanced at it and saw Choso’s name at the top. You inhaled and grabbed it quickly. 

“Sorry I’ll be right back”, you say as you get up and make your way to your room. 

“Hey!”, you exclaim as you make your way into your room. 

Satoru’s ears perked up at how happy you sounded. He had seen the name on your phone and by your reaction, it had to be the guy from last night. With a small groan he threw his head back. Competition wasn’t new for him, he’s always been competitive and good - no great - at everything he did. But he had never dealt with competition when it came to you. 

Having met on your first days of highschool, you two were both nerds. Relating on interests and hobbies, staying up waiting on drop dates for games or going out and buying ridiculous anime items. It was natural for you two to end up liking each other, even your friends saw it before you two did. They bet on how long it’d take for someone to make a move, it wasn’t until before the ending of freshman year that anything was said to one another. 

He confessed first like a lovesick puppy, he had seen you get hit on by some guy in another class. It was the first time he saw you blush at anyone other than him. He felt a sickening feeling in his stomach, at the thought of losing you, at the thought of you being with someone else.

And that’s when he realized he had liked you. He had rushed over to you and told you some lie to pull you away from the guy. He had dragged you outside to where you two would hangout after school with your friends but usually after they left, you two would linger there. 

“I need to tell you something”, he said nervously as he balled his hands into fists. 

“Okay what is it ‘Toru?”, you spoke lightly with a tilt of your head. Eyebrows furrowed as you stared up at him. 

“I-I like you. I don’t know how long I’ve liked you for and maybe it was the first time you smiled at me. O-Or when you gave me my keychain for my phone, or when you laughed at my joke the first week of class. Maybe I’ve liked you from the moment I got to know you. But I just know I like you. More than anyone else, more than my favorite digimon character”, he utters as he averts your gaze. 

You had stood there in awe, shock, and pure bliss. 

“Toru…I like you too. I didn’t think you’d like me back but looking back I might be a bit stupid from not realizing it”, you laugh as he shot his head back to look at you. You were looking down as he stared wide eyed. He didn’t think you’d reject him but at the same time he didn’t think you really did like him.

“Oh..I-I honestly don’t know why I didn’t think you’d like me too. Maybe we're both a little stupid here”, he laughs as he reaches for your hands, embracing them with both of his. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You gaze up at him with a saccharine smile, eyes crinkling from how genuine it is. “Really?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Yes really stupid. I think if you don’t answer I’ll bury myself 6 feet under”.

“Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend Satoru”, you giggle as you pull your hands away from his and hug him. He reflexively wrapped his arms around you and picked you up with a spin. You laugh out and so does he. 

Shoko won the bet, she had said you’d two be together before the end of the school year. Kento and Yu had bet you’d get together by the beginning of the next semester. While Suguru thought it’s take another year for you two to even realize it by how stupid you both were to each others yearning. 

Satoru sighs as he replays the memory, he thinks about it far too often. Having replayed every detail from that day, the days before and after. His biggest regret was breaking up with you before college. You hadn’t grown apart, it was all the same but you both wanted to focus on college. He proposed the idea after seeing all the time he’d have with school and the family business, he didn’t find it fair to you to be unavailable constantly. It hurt him to even bring it up, to even think about it. 

But you understood, you wanted the both of you to be successful in your own ways. It crossed your mind but you never voiced it. When he brought it up, you wanted to say it’d be fine and you’d understand his time away. But you knew, it would ruin you two. The lack of seeing each other and affection you both couldn’t 100% show. Would make you two grow to resent it and resent each other for not trying harder. 

So you agreed. The no contact was to not be distracted, neither of you saw each other as distractions, but you both knew it’d turn into it. So there was no fighting, no lashing out; just acceptance. It killed you both and even 3 years later, after graduating and working, you both felt the same way for one another as you did then. 

Satoru tried to move on, tried to meet new people, tried to forget about you but everyone he met wasn't you. Everyone was shallow with no true personality, you were the only one he’d met that fit him like a puzzle. So he stopped trying, he’d get hit on but turn them down. 

Now watching you get excited over someone else was killing him. He wishes he’d come around sooner, yea you met this Choso guy last night but the way you had looked at him when you had talked to him in the bar, Satoru had only seen you look at him that way. 

He knew from Suguru that you hadn’t been with anyone else since him. He reveled in the fact that you hadn’t moved on from him.

As if you’d ever truly be able to move on from one another.

But this factor of running into someone who clicked with you like he once had, had him nervous. Had him on the brink of begging you to be with him. But he couldn’t.

It wouldn’t work, maybe before, back then it would’ve. But he can tell you changed, you’re not as you were before. Not lovesick for him like he was for you. 

He might be too late but that won’t stop him from trying. 

<<previous : next>>

so guess this is my first series on here, not sure if it'll be long or short but lets see how ill do

[smallestapplin]

HIII! I just wanted to say that I absolutely adore your work. THE RESCUE BOTS POST ARE JUST IT. I love them all although Our sweet helicopter guy posts and your head canons for him are just *chef's kiss*. Could I request some head canons on how their first date with the (human)reader would go? (Ofc if anyone hasn't requested that yet) Just genuinely curious about your opinion on that. THANK UUU ヾ(＾-＾)ノ

I love Blades so much, he’s such a sweetie! He and Heatwave are my faves no doubt (chase is in there too, im weak.)

-

-

- First date with Blades! He’s a mess asking Dani and Boulder for help, he finally managed to ask you out and you said yes! He didn’t think he’d get that far at all! They have to calm him down before giving him advice or a sweet date idea which he all takes to spark. Blades is beyond nervous, he wants to make a good impression as a suitable partner so badly, he’s scaredhe’s going to mess this up and you’ll never want to see him again. He has to be talked down part two.

- He spends most of his time before hand getting a nice blanket ready, with Dani, Cody, and Graham helping him pack human food for a nice picnic, while Chase, Heatwave, and Boulder attempt to help but it’s mostly Boulder trying to properly explain the purpose to Chase and Heatwave putting some cubes of energon in the picnic basket for him. Aside from that Blades is cleaning himself with all he has, making sure ever crack is cleaned, his intierior cleaned and smelling good, and then polishing himself to look pretty.

- The closer the time ticks to the hour you two planned he grows more and more nervous, he’s shaking trying not to cry thinking of every worse case scenario. That is until you pull up, dressed in a very nice but still casual outfit, it’s something he’s never seen you in it instantly has his wings fluttering making a loud ‘ptptpt’ sound, and his face plate bright blue. He stutters in greeting you but he’s such a cute mess.

- He’s nothing short of sweet to you. He transforms and lets you hop in so he fly you both to a safer more private location (and away from the prying eyes and optics his friends) you probably have to reassure him you don’t mind cause he will start nervously rambling.

- Most likely taking you to one of the smaller uninhabited islands around Griffin rock for a nice picnic, it’s nice, it’s private, and it’s just the two of you (he will get flack for this later since the other couldn’t spy on him.)

- A little picnic by the shore with your favorite helicopter. His frame is polished, buffed and waxed to look his best, the moment you tell him how pretty he looks his face plate is bright blue and he’s giggling like an idiot. Smitten.

- Please keep giving him compliments throughout the day, he’s trying his best to compliment you, tell you how dashing you look, how much he likes you but he keeps getting choked up, but if you say something back like “you’re too sweet, Blades.” Or “Could say the same to you, handsome.” He will start to buffer and you’re going to need to give him a moment, a very cute moment.

- Overall it’s fun! So much to talk about with Blades, he never runs out of a topic even if you do, so much sand on the shore to build sandcastles together and make up stories about your kingdoms, or even find a pretty rock to give each other! It’s easy to have fun and fall into fits of laughter with him.

- He doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t want this day to end, even as you’re sat on his shoulder leaning against his helm, both of you relaxing after using so much of your energy. You place a kiss to his temple, “thank you for the lovely day, I had a blast. I hope we can have another soon.”

- Congrats, you’ve killed him. When he finally does managed to get back, the team is asking for details but he squeals into his servos everytime he remembers something even slightly flirty you did.

[a99jazzybean]

OR it could be jaycexreader trying pot brownies 😬 I think that’ll be funny and can get spicy. If your are comfortable with it of courseee

This one was cute and fun to write! Thank you for the request!

High Enough

synop: You decided to make pot brownies for your roommate, but realize you don't have enough bud. You decide that using juice from a cart is a good idea. Jayce eats some of the brownies not realizing they have weed in them. He convinces you to get high and shenanigans ensue.

Reader is gender neutral but AFAB

words: 3.5K

includes: jaycexgn!reader, modern au, recreational drug use, weed use, high sex, creampie, smut

a/n: Guys, DO NOT make pot brownies like this. This recipe was inspired by my dumbass friends that poured a cart out into brownie mix. A tiny piece had me knocked out in 30 minutes. Do not recommend.

Dammit… You were all out of bud. You swore you had some left, but found measly crumbs at the bottom of your stash jar. That’s what you get for switching to pens you suppose. 

A lightbulb went off in your head. That’s it! You could use a cart. That couldn’t go wrong, right? 

You grabbed a fresh cart and some needle nose pliers and went to work on the cap. After some careful maneuvering, you managed to get it open without breaking the glass. Dumping it in your mixing bowl, you got to work making some brownies. 

Turning on some tunes, you hummed and danced your way through cracking eggs and measuring flour. The brownies were for one of your roommates, Viktor. A “thank you” for getting you out of a bind on a major school project. 

While they were a gift, you obviously were planning on trying them out yourself. Especially since you were experimenting with using a different form of weed. Probably best to see how you fared before accidentally making your friend green out. 

When the brownies baked you found that this batch appeared to have less of the typical pungent scent than if you used flower. Noted. 

After baking you left out the pan to cool. Deciding you needed a shower after accidentally covering yourself in flour, you headed down the hall. As you bathed, your other roommate returned home. 

Upon entering, his nose and eyes were immediately drawn to the fresh baked brownies on the counter. Mouth watering, he skipped over to the kitchen. As the apartment’s resident baker, it wasn’t uncommon for you to randomly make goodies to share. Jayce saw this as no different. Pulling out a knife, he cut himself a decent piece of brownie. Taking a large bite out of the gooey chocolate, he moaned with content. 

When you walked out of the bathroom, you heard Jayce shuffling out in the kitchen. Eyes widening, you rushed in. It was too late. The man had already scarfed down the brownie, his hand reaching once more to cut out  another piece. 

“STOP!” You yell, hand out. 

Turning around, Jayce gave you a confused wide-eyed stare. 

“What’s wrong?” Oh how naive the man was. 

“Jayce, those are pot brownies.” 

“Wait, really? I can’t taste it at all.” 

“I might have used juice from a cart instead of flower…” You trailed sheepishly. 

“WHAT???” His eyes grew even wider. “Why the fuck would you do that?” 

“I ran out of bud! And I wanted to do something nice for Viktor!” You shrugged your shoulders. 

“Something nice for-“ He let out an exasperated sigh. “ I’m pretty sure what you have created might put the man in a coma.”

You scoffed. 

“I doubt it. He’s got an insane tolerance.” 

“Regardless, I’ve eaten one.” His eyes narrowed at you. 

“Don’t blame me! You ate one without asking!” 

“You bake things all the time! How was I supposed to know?” He was growing very concerned. 

“Hey, let’s calm down.” You softened your voice. The last thing you needed was for Jayce to spiral. 

“How are you feeling?”

“I can already feel my head getting lighter.” 

“Okay, so we know it hits pretty quickly.” You walked up to him slowly, taking his hand to help ground him. 

He grasped yours tightly. 

“I’ll keep an eye on you, kay?” Your thumb traced circles on the back his hand. The tender action made him shiver. 

“What if you joined me?” Gears were turning in his head. 

“What do you mean?”

“Eat one too.” He gave you pleading puppy dog eyes. 

“Jayce, we have no idea how this will affect you, much less me.” You shook your head at him. 

“Were you just planning on giving them to Viktor?” He eyed you suspiciously. 

“W-well, no. I was going to try them-“ 

“Then try them. Since you were already planning on it.” He cut you off. 

Those damned pleading puppy-dog eyes had you wavering. Really, what would be the harm? As long as you stay home you should be fine, hopefully. 

Nodding, you gave his hand a squeeze of reassurance. He beamed at your response, making your heart swell.

Ushering you over to the counter, Jayce cut out a piece for you. You took it, giving the treat a once-over. Looking at Jayce, he was shifting side-to-side impatiently. Eyes blown out, leaving a tiny visible ring of a hazel iris. 

“This is what that D.A.R.E. officer warned me about in eighth grade.” You sighed, then took a bite. 

Chocolatey goodness filled your senses. Jayce was right, you couldn’t taste anything off about the brownies. Oh, that was dangerous. 

You swallowed then looked at Jayce expectantly. 

“What now?”

“We could chill in my room, or yours. Doesn’t matter to me.” He shrugged nonchalantly. 

Jayce really, really did not want to be left alone right now. And if you were going to be in the same state as him might as well do it together, right? It’s not like he was expecting anything out of it. After all, you were very good friends. But in his weed addled mind, there was a teensy part of him that was hoping for maybe something more. 

See, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous in the man’s eyes. While you had been close friends for a long while now, Jayce secretly wished for something more. 

It didn’t help that the two of you had enjoyed the occasional sloppy make out sesh that followed an evening of drinking. Giving the man just a taste of what you had to offer, and nothing more. 

The thing was, you also wanted a little something more as well. Not necessarily a relationship. But having a hot piece of ass like him around was tempting to say the least. 

“We can chill in my room.” You said, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the hall. 

Jayce had spent time in your room every so often, but it still felt like a sacred space. Especially now when it felt like his mind was floating. 

Once in your room you hopped onto your bed. Sinking into the mattress with a satisfied sigh. This was the best part about being high. Just laying down and feeling it hit you. Limbs sinking down into the plush of your bed. Lifting your head a bit, you spotted Jayce awkwardly watching you. Shuffling in place like he didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing. 

“Get in here, Talis.” You motioned for him to join you. 

He padded over to your bed, then laid down beside you. A small smile on his face as he watched you in content bliss. 

“It’s so nice to just sink in.” You sighed. 

“I take it the brownie has hit?” 

You nodded with a hum. Allowing yourself to enjoy the pleasant buzz in your head. 

Reaching out, you grabbed Jayce’s hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and you let out another sigh. 

“You have really nice hands.” You lifted his hand above your face, studying it. “So warm. They’re working hands,” you traced the calluses at the top of his palm, “but somehow still soft. Yes, very nice hands.” You hummed bringing his palm to your lips and placing a tender kiss in the center.

Mouth agape, Jayce stared at you wide eyed. A red flush dusting his cheeks. 

Looking at him, you gave him a sweet smile. One he couldn’t help but return. 

Even though you were holding his hand, the distance between you felt too far. Jayce wrapped his free arm around you, pulling you closer to him. Nose to nose, you giggled. This felt… really nice. Humming, you nuzzled your nose against his. The adorable action made him blush even harder. 

Damn, you sure got physical when high. Not that he minded. 

“Jayce…” You mumbled, then pressed yourself into the space beneath his chin. Your face pushed into his chest. “You’re soooo warm.” 

“I think you’re higher than I am.” 

Shrugging your shoulders you nuzzled into his chest. The man curled his arms tighter around you. Leaning his head down, he pressed a warm kiss onto your forehead. 

“This feels really nice.” You murmured.

The comforting sinking returned. Feeling your body go heavy as you slumped into the man. Almost like you were going to meld with him.

Jayce’s skin was buzzing. Your touch feels ten times more intense than normal. As you curled up into the man, your hands roamed over him. Trailing up his torso and neck, fingers curling into his hair. Slowly they skimmed back down his arms. A pattern of movements that had him shivering against you. God, did it feel amazing. 

“I really like that…” He said softly, kissing your forehead again. 

“Mmm, yeah?” You gave him a dazed smile.

“Yeah.”

Your hands returned to his hair. Fingers scraping against his scalp, making him let out a low groan. 

“You’re like a puppy.” You giggled to yourself as you continued to pet him. “So cute.”

“A puppy?” He questioned.

“Yeah. The way you’re responding to my pets. And you have puppy-dog eyes.” 

“Puppy-dog eyes?” He gave you a confused look, head cocked to the side. Looking exactly like a confused dog.

Giggling again, you snuggled as close as you could to the man.

“Puppy-dog eyes that convinced me to get high with you.” You poked him in the chest. “They’re dangerous.”

He chuckled, puffs of air hitting the top of your head.

“Dangerous.”

“Exactly. So use them for good next time.” You admonished him with a finger. 

“Is this not something good?”

Pondering on it, you shrugged. 

“I’m not complaining, I suppose.” You gave him a sweet smile.

“Anything I can do to make it better?” 

“I dunno. You got any ideas?” You gave him a sultry look. 

He licked his lips nervously, eyes darting between your own and your lips. Leaning up, you pressed your nose against his. Lips just barely brushing against his. Looking into his eyes expectantly, you spoke softly.

“Well?” 

Warm lips crashed into yours messily. The man moaned as soon as he pressed against you. Every fiber of his body on fire when you pressed your lips against his. Teasingly, you lightly lapped against his bottom lip. Jayce slightly opened his mouth, inviting your tongue to tangle with his. You slid your tongue into his mouth, groaning at his taste. 

His hands roamed over your body. Appreciating the fact you wore nothing under your comfy pjs. Large fingers pinched your nipples over your clothes. You squeaked at the sudden sparks of pleasurable pain. He swallowed the sound, moaning against you. He was rutting against your thigh, making you feel the prominent bulge straining against his sweats. 

Pausing for a breath, you slightly pushed away, looking over him. This probably shouldn’t go further. Although there was a burning ache in your groin, you knew that going into this high wasn’t the smartest decision. But you didn’t really make a smart decision on the brownies while sober… so perhaps the night was one ready for many mistakes. Though you didn’t feel like hooking up with Jayce was a mistake. It could be for him though, you wouldn’t hold that against him. 

“Is everything okay?” He wanted to pull you back to him.

“Uh, yeah. I just don’t know if we should continue. I wouldn’t want you to regret anything.” You looked away from him, embarrassed.

“I could never regret anything with you.” His eyes pleaded with you, hips shaking as he did his best not to rut himself against you again. 

His words made your heart swell, a blush flushing on your cheeks. Pushing yourself back in, you gave him a deep kiss. Fuck it. You wanted this, your body was making you feel like you needed this. 

“I’ll take it you’re okay with us continuing?”

“Oh fuck yes.” You pressed your lips against his again, earning you a deep moan. 

Jayce returned to rubbing up against your thigh. Letting out little whimpers at the friction against his hard cock. Feeling his length against you had you drooling at the thought of him inside of you. Through the fabric of his pants you could feel how long and thick he was. It would be a stretch, but you wanted all of the man in front of you.

“C-can I taste you?” Jayce pulled back for a breath. “I really want you to sit on my face.” 

That had you flushing furiously. 

“Are you sure?” You asked softly. A part of you was concerned about hurting him.

“Yes. I want- no. I need it.” 

You nodded, agreeing. He beamed at you before shuffling your bodies on the bed. Rolling himself beneath you. You were straddling his waist and felt the head of his cock through his pants brush against your clothed sex. You whimpered at the friction. 

Jayce reached for your sleep shorts, eyes asking for permission. Nodding, you maneuvered your legs to help him remove the article. After tossing them, he turned to look at you. Groaning at the shiny slick coating your pussy and thighs. Lifting you up, he encouraged you to crawl to his face. Obliging, you made your way above him. Holding onto the headboard, you slowly lowered yourself over him. Large arms encircled your thighs, forcing you onto his waiting mouth. The sudden action makes you cry out. 

With a warm tongue, Jayce licked a stripe down your pussy. Your body was buzzing and sensitive with your high, making the pleasure more intense. Lapping through your folds, Jayce was making you release noises you had never known you could make before. Each whine and moan shot straight to his straining cock. Twitching impatiently as he made you fall apart on his tongue. 

You had to use the headboard to stabilize yourself. Around his head, your thighs were shaking as pure pleasure coursed through your body. Warmth was growing in your belly with each tantalizing lick against your clit. 

Beneath you, Jayce groaned. You were fucking delicious. He felt like he could stay under you for hours. Hearing the sounds you were making made him wish he could just hold you pressed against his tongue. 

“C-close!” You squeaked out. 

Jayce had begun flicking his tongue against you quickly. Each flick builds up your climax. With how sensitive you were, it would only be a matter of time before you burst. His tongue continued to flick against you rapidly. At this point, your entire body was shaking with the build of your orgasm. One perfectly placed swirl against your clit was your undoing. 

Practically screaming, you came on his face. Squirting over his chin with the force that your orgasm hit you. Between your squeezing thighs, Jayce thought he died and went to heaven. Oh he would gladly die squished in your plush thighs, your taste filling his senses. 

He only gave you a brief moment before his mouth was back on you.

“Jayce!” You squealed as he overstimulated your cunt. 

It seemed like he didn’t need to breathe as he continued to eat you out with fervor. Tongue tasting every inch of you, occasionally pushing into you. You could barely keep your body up as the shaking grew stronger. Your climax rapidly grows with each lap against your sopping pussy. 

With a shaky hand, you reach for the top of his head. Fingers curling into his hair. The feeling made him moan against you. 

This time, your orgasm hit you like a train. Crashing through your entire body with a giant wave of pleasure. Above him you twitched and whimpered as his tongue continued to lick you. Eventually you pressed your hand against his forehead, making him let you go.

“T-too much, Jayce!” You whined.

Sliding off of his face, you flopped belly down onto the bed. Jayce eyed your bare ass and legs, licking his lips with anticipation. He slid behind and over you. Turning to watch him, you felt your thighs clench. Flopping against his belly was probably the most enticing cock you had ever seen. Tip flushed an angry red, just begging to be fucked. 

Jayce looked at you, the hunger in his gaze making you shiver. Wiggling your hips, you urged him to continue. He spread your legs, and pressed down on your back. You lifted your hips, whining impatiently.

Because of that, Jayce decided to tease you. Dragging his cock between your folds. Gathering up your ever-accumulating slick dripping out of you. His cock caught on your entrance, making you whimper. Fuck, you needed him to fill you. You felt like you were floating and sinking at the same time. A pleasurable bliss that was about to get better. 

Slowly, Jayce pressed himself into you. Thick cock stretching you out deliciously. Both of you moaned as he continued to push his length inside. His cock brushing against the gummy spot that had you keening. 

“That feel good?” He leaned his body over yours, murmuring into your ear. 

It felt too good. You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Instead, you decided to nod vigorously. Hoping he would move inside you. 

“Mmm, good.” He crooned, pulling out slowly then slamming back into you. 

Your whole body jolted with pleasure as his cock began to abuse your sweet spot. Head of his length continuing to hit it over and over again. Clutching the bedsheets you were a sobbing mess. The oversensitivity from your high mixed with the pure pleasure the man was giving you caused tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. 

“J-Jayce!” You cried out and one very intense thrust. 

“F-fuck,” he released a stuttering breath against your neck. “Please cum, please cum for me. I need to feel you. So fucking bad.” He nuzzled into your shoulder.

Jayce would soon be getting his wish. An intense pleasure was blooming within you, making you gasp and moan. This man was making you feel like an overstimulated puddle. Each press of his cock makes the pleasure grow tenfold. Your entire body was ready to shatter. 

And shatter you did. Jayce’s cock thrusting in and out of you, draggin your orgasm along with it. Your pussy clenched his cock, drenching your bed sheets as you came. 

Jayce groaned, but held himself back. He needed to feel you do that at least one more time. 

You whined when he pulled out of you, then yelped when he flipped you over. A brief moment of soberness had you remembering that he was actually really strong. Then your stoned brain chimed in with how fucking hot it was that he was manhandling you so desperately.

He had you on your back, legs hooked over his shoulders. As he pressed back into your wet heat, he gave you a sloppy kiss. The two of you catching eachother’s moans of pleasure. He pushed up your shirt to your shoulders. Warm hands cupped your breasts, teasing over your nipples. The action makes you shiver all over. 

His hands moved to your waist to give him more leverage. Fast thrust pummeled the sweet spot within you. Jayce managed to hit it perfectly in this position too. Crying out, you felt a sting of pleasure. Thick fingers were circling your abused clit, sending sparks shooting through your body. Moans and whimpers escaping you with each circle. Your hands clenched his biceps for purchase as your body shook. 

He could feel your pussy pulsing around him. Another climax building inside you. He chased your high, wanting to cum with you. Knowing he could burst at any moment, Jayce hoped you would join him. The tightness in his balls was growing a bit too unbearable. 

As if your body was answering his wish, he felt you clench against his length. Unconsciously thrusting your hips as you chase down your orgasm. A scream of pleasure ripping out of you as you gushed around him. 

Warmth filled you as Jayce was granted his release. Cock twitching deep inside you as hot ropes of his cum poured in. A pleasurable feeling that seemed never ending. Jayce’s orgasm lasted long after he had fully unloaded in you. Cock overstimulated with the feeling of your tight twitching walls around him. 

Both of you came down from your orgasm highs. Still extremely high from the brownies. Something that could easily be read based on your drooping eyelids and dopey smiles. Before pulling out, Jayce kissed all over your face. You giggled as his lips pecked all over your cheeks.

“That was amazing.” He purred against your neck, giving you a kiss. “You are amazing.” 

“You feel sososososo good, Jayce.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. 

With a groan, Jayce pulled out of you. His eyes transfixed on your pussy now dripping out his spend.

“That’s hot.” He looked up, chuckling at your confused expression. 

Kissing your forehead, he stood up. 

“I’ll get us cleaned up.”

After a moment, Jayce returned with a wet washcloth. Softly he wiped you down. You softly thanked him for helping you. He responded with a sweet kiss. 

When you were both cleaned up, Jayce returned to snuggle up in your bed. Large warm arms held you close to him. You felt yourself drifting as Jayce spoke to you softly. The man letting out a stream of compliments and fond memories. Occasionally he would kiss you, feeling like he was drowning in your lips. 

“We should do this again.” Jayce said softly.

“Yeah? Yeah.” You giggled, answering yourself.

“Though I think we could skip the brownies next time.” 

[aayakashii]

my thoughts abt the whole episode

Lyca being considerate of MC's curse........ LYCA LEARNING CERTAIN SOCIAL CUES IN ORDER TO KEEP MC CALM.... I LOVE MY BABY

mc is so nice 😔 giving the doll a proper name that fits the Kirisaki family :(((( the little quiver in Zenji's voice :(((( man I cant, Zenji makes me so sad LMAO I love him but he's such a tragic character... every time I look at him I remember how his max affinity line is saying he hopes to meet MC in their next life because he was too late in this one... god that DESTROYS me

SOMEONE JUST TELL LYCA THAT TOWA REFERS TO MC AS DANDELION PLEASE

ALAN GRUNTING OOOHHH GOD HAVE MERCY ON ME

HAKU JESUS CHRIST. that man is horny 24/7... asking for a picture.... WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THAT PICTURE AFTERWARDS THEN ARE YOU GOING TO JERK OFF TO IT AND [GETS SHOT]

Oh my god subaru looks so pretty asking us to take his hand....... oh my god and he's being so? Protective? Am i going insane or what

I LOVE THE SIBLING BANTER BETWEEN TOWA AND LYCA 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 TWO BIG BABIES while Lyca is the nicest kid and Towa is the one that misbehaves the most

The Sky King......... is so gorgeous. I Need him

HARUUUUUUUUUUUU AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LET ME HELP HIM ON HIS BOOTH PLEASEEEEEEEEE

LYCA WANTING TO PAY FOR OUR SODA ://////// HE'S SUCH A GOOD BOY (he's doing better than most irl men and he canonically barely had any human contact)

HARU IS RHIS A CO FESSION. BECAUSE YES I DO GIVE U MY HAND IN MARRIAGE

ZENJI IS BEING SO SAD FOR WHAT REASONNNNNNN IM SO WORRIED

Lyca loves Sho's food 🥹🥹🥹 im so happy he's interacting more with other ppl (even though he still skipped the line w Towa lmao)

Also why is Sho so hot when he's cooking and being nonchalant goddamn

Towa and Lyca are like. The dumb brothers that enable each other's bad behavior

Btw I talked to Mal abt this, but I was a bit worried Towa would treat Subaru weirdly but I'm glad they get along okay!!!!

SHO IS SO KIND MY GODDDDDDD HE'S SO SWEET TRYING TO GIVE THAT HUGE CANDY TO THE DOLL :(((((((( UGHHHHHHHHH

Also not Alan acting as if Sho is his vice captain while Leo is nowhere to be seen

Zenji is being so melancholic this episode 😔 I wish I could wish for him to be a living being again

STOPPPPPPPPPPPP NOT ALAN GETTING SO LOST HE ENDED UP IN THE SPIRIT WPRLD LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I KNEW LYCA WOULD LIKE ALAAAANNNNN FINALLYYYYYY PLEASE BE FRIENDS IM BEGGING

Also Subaru being happy Alan agreed that they're allies :'))) cute

I MISSED LUCA AND KAITO SMMMMMM MY CHAOS DUOOOOO

My god I wanna kill everyone that's prejudiced against Lyca. Like legit I want to explode them with my mind. I hate hate hate them so much UGHHHHHH THE WAY I WOULD SNAP AT THEM SO FAST LET ME IN THE GAME RN

If Zenji doesnt speak up and say whats wrong im gonna go insane

THESE FUCKING PRICKS ACCUSING LYCA ARE MAKING MY BLOOD PRESSURE RISE SO MUCJ I WANNA KILL THEM ALLL

SUBARU OH MY HOD LMFAOOOOOOOOOOO FINALLY HE SNAPPED FINALLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY AAAAAAAAAAA

Man I'm so sad. Why does Lyca have to always be blamed for EVERYTHING all the time :( I'm glad he has more people supporting him, even Towa, but goddamnit

What the fuck. This ending was so sad. I would stay behind with Zenji btw wth? I wouldn't just leave him all in his lonesome 😭 and yet another reminder that the 3rd years are leaving..... where is this story going bruh

Idk I'm sad. This was such a fun episode but it ended so bittersweet :/ im sad....... i dont want the 3rd years to leave and I want Zenji to be happy again ughhhhhhh I'm SADDDDD

[maddssturns]

˚࿔ #1 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 - 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰𝜗𝜚˚⋆

#1 in my first writing marathon - heartbreak weather, niall horan

creds to @bernardsbendystraws for the dividers!

creds to @delilahsturniolo for the idea of a writing marathon!

disclaimers: smut, p n v, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, big dick chris, use of y/n, baby, sweetheart, i think thats it! let me know if i forgot anything xx

word count: 1.2k

“all of my life its been heartbreak weather”

i wasn’t planning on going to the party.

i had one of those weeks where everything felt a little off—nothing dramatic, just that quiet kind of lonely where you start scrolling through your contacts just to feel like someone’s there. but my friend begged me to come out, said i’d have fun if i just got out of my head for once.

so i went.

the house was warm and loud, filled with people who looked like they knew exactly what they were doing. i kind of hovered near the kitchen for a while, pretending to look for something. i didn’t know many people, and everyone seemed wrapped up in their own little circles. i didn’t mind, really. sometimes it’s kind of nice to just observe.

i ended up outside on the porch. the night air felt good and cool against my skin, and quieter than the music inside. i was scrolling through my phone, not really reading anything, when someone sat down next to me.

“you’re not really a party person either, huh?”

i looked over. he had a soft smile and messy brown curls and the kind of presence that didn’t demand anything. just… existed.

“is it that obvious?” i asked, laughing a little.

“a little,” he grinned. “but it’s okay. same here. i’m chris.”

“y/n.”

we started talking, just small things at first. favorite snacks. weird childhood fears. the kind of stuff that’s easy to talk about with someone you’ve never met because there’s no pressure. but the conversation kept going, and something about it felt different. like the kind of different you don’t even notice until later, when you’re smiling for no reason.

chris was funny, in a quiet way. not loud or trying to impress me, just genuinely kind and easy to be around. we ended up walking around the block, talking about our favorite movies, our dream vacations, and how both of us secretly love staying in more than going out.

────୨ৎ────

he lays me down on the bed in the hotel room, his lips moving to my jawline and down my neck.

my fingers find his thick brown hair, tangling themselves in it.

he smirks against my skin, his hands gripping my hips as he begins to kiss lower.

my breath hitches as i feel even more aroused, earning a quiet whimper out of me.

“can i take off your dress, sweetheart?” he asks making eye contact with me.

“yes” i say, practically desperate.

he unzips my dress and pulls it down my body so im left just in my underwear. his mouth finds my nipple and sucks on it.

my grip in his hair tightens as another whimper escapes my lips.

he switches to the other nipple, flicking it with his tongue while his hand travels down to my clothed pussy.

i squirm. trying to get some kind of friction against my throbbing heat. “p-please chris…”

he looks up at me with a soft smirk, his fingers tracing the lace of my panties. "please what, baby? use your words."

“please touch me chris…” i ask pleadingly.

he pushes my panties to the side and inserts a finger inside me, curling it just right. "Like this?"

“yes! jussstt like that… fuck.” i moan, arching my back as he immediately hits the spot that makes me see stars, like he knows my body like the back of his hand.

chirs adds another finger, pumping them in and out slowly while his thumb rubs my clit. "you’re so tight for me, y/n. so wet and ready."

────୨ৎ────

he pulls his pants and boxers down, positioning himself between my legs, glancing at me, making sure im still comfortable.

he thrusts into me hard, groaning as he fills me up.

i whimper at the stretch, gripping his shoulders for support. “fuck! s-so big chris”

he grins, moving my legs so they wrap around his waist as he starts to move in slow and hard thrusts, speeding up quickly. he grabs my hips and slams into me deeper and deeper. “you take me so well, taking my whole cock, baby.”

“i am- fuck don’t stop!” i moan, my nails digging into his back, my tits bounce with every thrust.

he grabs my tits, squeezing them as he keeps fucking me. "never. i’m gonna make you cum again and again."

“chris! i-i’m gonna cum!” i manage to get out between moans. he grunts, his cock twitching inside me.

he smirks, knowing i’m close. "cum for me again, y/n. let me feel you squeeze my cock."

i let go, loudly moaning his name, almost screaming. my nails mark his back as my own back arches off the bed.

chris hisses at the scratches but doesn't stop, loving the feeling of my nails on his back. "ah, fuck yes! that’s it, baby. scratch me up, mark me."

he releases deep inside me, reciting my name like a prayer and panting heavily as he collapses on top of me. "jesus christ”

────୨ৎ────

the morning light came in soft through the blinds. it painted quiet shapes across the sheets, warm and golden, and for a second i wasn’t sure where i was.

and then i turned my head and saw him. chris.

he was still asleep, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other stretched out like he’d meant to reach for me in the middle of the night. his curls were a mess and his face looked softer somehow, like the weight he usually carried in his eyes had taken the morning off.

i didn’t move. just watched him breathe for a while. slow, steady. peaceful.

last night felt like something more than just a moment. it hadn’t been rushed or loud or dramatic. it had been quiet, slow, full of those nervous laughs and lingering looks that say are you sure? and yeah, i really want this. it felt like finally stepping into something i didn’t realize i’d been waiting for. something safe.

when he stirred, i looked away, like getting caught watching him sleep was something too tender to explain.

but he opened his eyes and smiled.

“hey,” he whispered, voice still all sleepy and rough.

“hey,” i whispered back.

he reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. it wasn’t slick or flirty, just… sweet. natural. like touching me was something he was supposed to do.

“you okay?” he asked.

i nodded. “more than okay.”

we laid there for a while, neither of us in a rush to leave the warmth of the bed or the softness of whatever we were stepping into. he traced little shapes on my arm with his fingers while i talked about the weird dream i had. he laughed at the way i described it, that kind of laugh that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes squint, and i swear, it made something in my chest squeeze.

when i finally got up to grab water, he watched me like i was something rare. and when i came back, he held the blanket open without saying anything, like this is yours too now.

and maybe it was.

maybe whatever we were wasn’t just a one-night thing. maybe it was the start of something slow and real and good.

i curled back into him and let myself believe it.

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 thank you for reading!

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[azullumi]

IN THE DESCENT OF MADNESS CALLED LOVE !!

premise — he’s going to die in this place; he will be trampled on and reduced to nothing, and the only thing that will ever be remembered of him are those hues of skies that glimmer like stars in their wake and hair that mirrors falling snow, and the only one who will remember is you; alternatively, phainon is everything warmth and kindness embodies, and when he stumbles upon you, a person who just wants to get out of this very hell but can’t, the both of you get caught up in the mess created by your very own hands. content tags and warnings — pairing: phainon x gn!reader | alnst!au, kind of a toxic relationship, graphic descriptions of death, wounds, and blood, cynical and hater reader meets golden sunshine boy, a lot of physical touching and intimacy, religious themes and metaphors, love is cannibalism, some things about anakt garden is up to assumption, comfort/fluff if you squint, rocky start but they get bad before they get better then worst, angst, not proofread | wc: 5.0k

note from me — i did not write this with a sane mind at all but its fun exploring this kind of dynamic lol also this week i learned that i have scoliosis ?

i.) cast the flames and shatter your heart, you are nothing without the ache of your hands

Anakt Garden is ugly.

It’s suffocating and abhorrently quiet despite the echoes of laughter and feet stomping and stumbling on the grassy grounds. It’s detestful how some humans treat it as paradise when it actually is a warm embrace before death takes you, a preparation for something equally repulsive as the lights on stage or the collar on your necks. 

You’ve stopped caring about it, about everyone else. 

You’re a few minutes into your granted free time, and you’ve decided to sit by the trees near the lake—not a lot comes here, after all, so you can finally have some peace.

You’re halfway through sketching a single fish when a shadow looms over you. You don’t look up, disregarding the presence as another measly child who is simply too curious.

You finish the sketch, take out the crayons, and begin coloring. Minutes pass; you hear some shuffling and rustling, then finally, a voice, gentle and clear as the crafted melodies you have sung.

“Can I color too?”

You look beside you where the sound came from, where you see a blur of blue and white. It’s a boy—there’s a boy sitting right beside you and peering over your sketchbook and you cannot see his face.

Either he had mistaken you for a close friend of his or it’s normal for him to be this friendly to a total stranger.

“No.” You simply answer, before scooting a little away from him and resuming your work. You add details to the fish on the left, adoring it with sparkles and a reddish pattern.

The boy follows and keeps the same distance.

“Why not?” You don’t answer, so he pursues like a relentless fire. “I’m not going to ruin it.”

This time you finally look at him and you see it—hair, the reflection of snow, and a pair of eyes that holds the skies within. It’s a beautiful blue, adoring and soft; the kind of hue you have heard your provider tell you when she mentions this place called ‘ocean’. You’re sure you can see yourself in them too as he keeps his gaze on yours.

“It’s not about ruining it.”

“Then why?”

“I don’t know you.”

Not like you know anyone here, though. You’ve always kept your distance from everyone, nothing good is going to ever come out of making bonds in this grand play of life and death. You look back to your artwork. 

Silence falls in the small space between you and him, in the gap between that can be easily closed if he were to push a little closer, but he seemingly abates and you’re about to let out a sigh (of relief?) when he speaks once more.

“I’m Phainon.” He beams a grin at you when you look at him again. “Nice to meet you!”

It feels like there are floating flowers and stars surrounding him when he speaks, and you’ve come to realize and accept the fact that this stubborn child is not going to give up. So you simply just relent and give him the boxes of crayons, bringing the sketchbook closer to him.

You don’t see him but you feel it—the sparkle in his eyes and the utter warmth that clings to his smile. You think you never want to see it.

“Ah, you smudged it.”

“Oh, wait. Let me fix it quickly.”

“You ruined it even more!”

“Oops, sorry.” He looks at you while scratching the back of his head, his somewhat insincere face completely rendering his apology useless.

“Don’t look at me like that. We can just do this,” he picks up a different crayon, one that stands out from the background, and begins doing whatever he is planning while you watch. It’s not like you don’t have the energy to stop him—and maybe you actually do—, but curiosity triumphs over you as your eyes follow the movement of his hand. “Ta-dah! I present to you: Fishnon!”

There’s another fish standing beside the one you have drawn now, except this one looks a little messier—mixed in the blur of colors and blue, laid on top of the hues like a coveted stain, but it stands out in the array of pigments, nevertheless.

“Fishnon…?” You don’t know why you question it nor what you are even questioning for, but your eyes are glued to the paper, specifically to the newly-added fish with a sword. Oh, and the two fishes are now holding hands.

“Yeah, Fishnon! It’s Phainon and Fish combined.” 

He’s rather enthusiastic. And it’s stupid. Like extremely stupid.

Phainon’s art skills are not much developed compared to yours and his fish persona looks ridiculous standing beside the one you have drawn. But for some reason, the tight knots in your chest eases just enough to make you breathe again. You don’t realize you’ve been holding it.

“It looks just like you.” You say, adding details to Fishnon.

“As it should.”

And somewhere between here and there, in this moment under the carefully drawn skies, he calls for you in a kind tone (you don’t recall ever telling him your name) and you can feel something shift deep within you. Something soft, warm, slowly unraveling itself.

It’s high time in noon, meals are being served, and it feels like a curse has been cast on you.

Ever since then, your eyes betray you—always seeking blue, and whenever you find it, it’s already gazing back.

The thing that has you scratching your head and wishing to slap yourself is that it always follows with that stupid smile—that stupid grin with that dumb face and those annoying eyes that crinkles into crescents.

You stab your fork harshly on the pea that it scratches against the plate’s surface. It bursts under the tines, its guts smearing the porcelain. The poor vegetable colony probably cripples in fear of being the next victim.

“Is this seat free?” 

You don’t look up. You don’t need to. His voice is unmistakable—honeyed and light, like the choir’s song before they curdle into screams.

“Yes.”

“Can I sit beside you?”

This is why you never try to know anyone. Not only is it a waste of effort but it will do nothing but harm. Bonds here are rotten fruit born from a splendid tree, dangling from a branch just to be plucked and crushed underfoot. The Garden’s love is a slow poison, and Phainon gulps it down like communion wine. You’re not sure who to blame here, but is there really anyone to do so? Was this a sin?

But when you open your mouth, what comes out is:

“Go ahead.”

It all feels so foolish. Like pull-your-hair-out stupid, what-the-hell-did-i-get-into foolish. Despite averting your eyes away, your gaze only returns to him soon after like a pair of magnets that can never be separated—and perhaps he simply was just like that, how irritating he may be even if doing nothing. There was a certain fascination in how he can remain rather optimistic and happy despite the circumstances he is in.

Your gaze drags back to him. Always to him.

Phainon eats like someone who still believes food is a gift, not fuel. He peels the crust off his bread, arranges his carrots into a smiley face, hums between bites. Alive. Too alive.

“Are you always eating alone?”

You shrug, “I’m used to it.”

He leans in, elbows on the table, breadcrumbs clinging to his lips. "Let’s always eat together," he declares, as if it’s that simple. 

He’s going to die in this place; he will be trampled on and reduced to nothing but another pretty corpse onstage, and the only thing that will ever be remembered of him are those hues of stolen skies that glimmer like stars in their wake and hair like falling snow, and the only one who will remember is you.

"Suit yourself," you mutter, but your hand is already stealing a carrot from his tray.

He laughs, bright and startled, and you hate how it settles in your ribs like a second heartbeat.

ii.) let it consume you, it must consume you, allow your body to return to ashes

You’ve noticed this before but Phainon is really well-cared for.

In every moment he had pestered you —leaning into your space with that infuriating grin, humming off-key hymns—and in every moment that you had indulged him, you have never seen him unkempt clothes or tattered fabrics. He appears to be pampered, meticulously attended to and looked after—it almost feels like every joint of his are strung, his movements controlled and calculated. Everything about him is so well-maintained it practically exudes that he is beloved by the aliens.

Not with the bruise blooming across his cheekbone like a stain, not with his shirt torn at the collar, rust-brown blood smeared down his chin, dripping on his pristine-white shirt.

Your eyebrows knit into one, “What did you get yourself into?”

He had never struck you as someone who would get into meaningless squabbles. 

Earlier, whispers slithered through the halls: A scuffle near the dorms, a group of boys throwing punches against one another, a chorus of gasps. You ignored it—until you couldn't and you found yourself with your hand on his wrist and running away with him. And so here you are, inside one of the vacant art rooms—your art room, the one reeking of turpentine and stolen solitude—tending to his wounds with a careful efficiency like handling a porcelain vase.

You dig through the kit that you retrieved from your room: half-dried alcohol, cotton balls pilfered from the infirmary, bandages fraying at the edges. Supplies you’d hoarded for yourself, for the days when the weight of the Garden’s hymns threatened to crack your ribs open. 

You’ve never thought that you were going to use it in this way. I mean, sure, they are eventually going to be used to clean up wounds, cuts, or whatever, but you’ve only done it to yourself.

Doing it for someone is different. This—closeness and something unnamed that sinks into your bones, that engraves warmth in your lungs, that makes your hands tremble—is different.

He laughs—a nervous and embarrassed sound as he darts his eyes to the side. His collar is red. “Let me explain.”

You work in silence, dabbing at the split skin of his lip and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“They started it.”

“That’s not helping your case.”

“They called you a freak.” Your hand doesn’t falter, even as your pulse stutters.“They called me one too, but that’s whatever. Then they dragged you into it, said you were—”

You press particularly hard, shoving the cotton into the gash of his knuckles. squeezing alcohol out of it that seeps directly into his wounded skin. He yelps.

“—OW! Okay, okay! Mercy!”

“Don’t do that ever again.”

Don’t make it so easy.

Don’t let them see you bleed. Don’t let them hear you care. But he does, he always does, and that’s what makes it devastating—like a tragedy waiting to be written with the ink of your blood and papers of your flesh.

Phainon’s smile is lopsided, a fractured thing, too bright for this rotting world. Blood is still trickling from his lip. "Worried about me?"

You want to strangle him. You should have let him bleed out on the floor, should have let the surveillance catch him and apprehend him, you could have.

You tape the bandage over his knuckles too tight, relish the way he grits his teeth. "I’m worried you’ll get us both in trouble."

He leans in, close enough that you taste copper on his breath. "Too late for that."

Outside, the tree’s shadows stretch long across the fields, and for a heartbeat, you let yourself loathe him. Loathe the way his lashes catch the light like gilded wire. Loathe the way his pulse jumps under your fingertips, alive and reckless and his. Loathe that he’s here, now, ruined—for you.

He is a cosmic masterpiece carved by the stars themselves.

A divine joke, what a terrible sense of humor the universe has. A boy built from sunlight and sonatas, now bleeding onto your hands because he thought your name was worth defending.

You press your thumb to the bruise on his cheekbone, smearing the violence deeper. This is how love feels, you think: like swallowing a shard of glass and calling it sacred. Like watching a god kneel in the dirt and knowing you are the blasphemy that brought him low.

“What are you thinking?” His voice is soft, mingling with your tangled breaths.

“Nothing.” You say, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent of the crushing abyss that awaits for your fall.

You will remember the exact shade of red his blood makes against your skin, long after the stage burns his voice from the light.

“Did it hurt?”

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, wrenching it aside to reveal the jagged letters carved into his skin. PHAINON—a filthy scar that glares at you, one that should have never existed.

You were subject to an excruciating procedure of having your names burned into your skin, a brand that will forever remain in your being, a foul stain. You don’t like it, you don’t like the pain, the screams that only the walls and machinery can hear; everything about it was disgusting.

Phainon tilts his head back so you can see the engraving better. “Not really,” he simply says, like he’s discussing the weather. “I didn’t feel anything at all.”

“You’re a bad liar, Phainon.” Your thumb gently glides over the engraving and his breath hitches—just once—when you trace the A, the I, the N, as if you could rewrite him with your hands.

“Okay, yeah. It hurt a lot.” A shadow flickers across his face—there and gone, like a fish darting into deeper water. “But it’s just skin anyway,” he murmurs.

Just skin. As if the both of you don’t know that skin is the first thing they take from you.

You release his collar with a sigh, “Whatever.” But he catches your wrist before you can retreat, his hand wrapped around right above where your name is engraved. He smiles, tilting his head like a curious hound: “Why do you care?”

The question hangs between you, sharp as a guillotine. You could lie. You could say it’s disgust, that it’s nothing else beyond the warmth that spreads on your skin that touches his, that it’s fear and repeated notion of 

“I resent you.”

His thumb strokes your inner wrist, right over the vein. “I know.”

Of course he knows. He’s always known.

You resent the way he grins through bloodied teeth, the way he hums and runs around like everything is just a mere game. You resent that he chose you—a hissed sit with me, a crayon shoved into your hand, a thousand tiny violations of your solitude that you allow anyways.

Hatred, you’ve learned, is the closest thing to love this place allows.

This rotten land doesn’t teach you how to cradle someone’s face gently—it teaches you to bite. It doesn’t teach you whispered confessions—only how to carve your devotion into flesh, letter by letter, until the wound never closes.

"You’re disgusting," you say, and your fingers dig into his engraving like you want to peel it off his bones.

Phainon laughs, breath hot against your cheek. "Yeah." His other hand slides up your spine, nails catching on fabric. "You too."

It almost feels like a vow.

You hate him. You hate the way his breath hitches when you claw at his back. You hate how he licks the blood off your skin, how he steals food from the cafeteria trays to leave in your room, how he burns brighter every time you try to push him away.

Most of all, you hate that he’s right—that this is love, here in this rotting cradle.

Love is teeth breaking skin, it is holding someone’s heart just to feel how hard it struggles, it is watching the aliens mark him for slaughter and thinking, Mine, mine, mine.

“You shouldn’t have followed me that day,” you mutter.

“You were drawing a fish,” he says, as if that explains everything. Maybe it does.

The air between you is thick with the scent of something cruel and soft at the same. His grip tightens, not enough to bruise, but enough that you feel the ridges of his fingerprints like another brand.

“Does yours still hurt?” he asks suddenly.

You could lie again. Instead, you yank your wrist free and press your palm to his chest, right over his heartbeat. You lightly push him away, glaring, “Yes.”

He exhales, sharp, like you’ve stabbed him. Then he leans forward until his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and uneven. “Good.”

Phainon does not believe in love the way they tell it, in the way endless adoration and worship is tangled into one golden thread that ties you to another person, but he believes in you, in this anger, hatred, warmth, in the way your nails dig into his engraving like you want to peel his name from his flesh and swallow it whole. 

It’s ugly. It’s his.

And that’s close enough for him.

(He will adore you for a very, very long time.)

It’s starving, gnawing.

The guilt is a living thing inside you—a parasite with needle teeth, chewing through your ribs, gorging itself on the soft pulp of your shame. It festers in the hollows of your lungs, swelling with every breath, until you choke on the stench of your own rot. 

You want to claw it out. You try—digging your nails into your sternum, as if you could peel back skin and snap your bones apart to reach it. But it’s slick with bile, writhing deeper every time you grab hold, leaving your fingers glistening with the proof of your sickness.

Every thought is a crime.

You should have pushed him away harder.

You should have let him hate you.

You should have been cruel enough to save him.

But you weren’t. And now, the competition looms like a guillotine blade, and all you can taste is the sour tang of regret on your tongue, the way it coats your teeth like rust. You want to scream. You want to vomit. You want to tear your own skin off if it means escaping the weight of what you’ve done—what you’re still doing—by letting him stand this close, by letting him believe, even for a second, that you can protect him, that he can protect you, that you are safe in this tight space you have molded for yourselves.

“You’re not going to die!”

This was the first time Phainon has raised his voice at you.

It cracks through the air like a whip, raw and desperate, and you flinch like he’s struck you. His hands are fists at his sides, trembling, his knuckles white with the force of it. There’s something wild in his eyes—something terrifying, something alive—and it makes your stomach twist.

"Say it," he demands, stepping closer. His foot knocks against yours and your vision spins as you fall back into your bed, your body welcomed by the soft mattress. He hovers over you, hands caging the sides of your face: "Say I’m not going to die."

You open your mouth. Nothing comes out.

The silence is worse than a lie.

Phainon’s breath hitches, and for a single, horrifying moment, you think he might cry. But then his jaw sets, his shoulders squaring like he’s bracing for impact, and he laughs—a sharp, broken sound that scrapes down your spine. It dies like a record slowly breaking down and he pulls you up in his arms, cradling you close to his chest, his face buried in the crevice of your neck.

“I can never understand you at all.” His words vibrate against your neck, warm and damp with something too close to tears.

You chew the inside of your cheek until copper floods your tongue, your hands trembling by your side instead of embracing him too. You don’t offer any words of comfort but you allow him to pull you close, let him hold you—you allow this. This fragile, fractured closeness where your shadows merge into one grotesque shape on the wall, a two-headed creature bound at the ribs but never at the hands. 

Yet it is not enough, it feels like you’re still far from him, like you could easily slip away from his grasp, and it makes him scared.

“Do you want to leave?”

“But where do we go?” There’s nothing else for you out there. Perhaps there was a time, a spur-of-the-moment decision when you had run away with him, slipping through the cracks to be greeted by crimson skies, vastly different from the perfect cerulean illusion you are used to seeing. You'd run until your lungs burned, Phainon's hand welded to yours, both of you laughing like the world couldn't catch you, but that was it.

“Anywhere.”

“There’s no ‘anywhere’ for us.”

“Then the rebellion, I’ve heard—”

“And what, Phainon? What happens after that?” Your voice cracks like dry earth. "What happens after that? We trade one collar for another? Die faster?"

The words linger between you, sharp as the scent of ozone before a storm.

Phainon's fingers dig into your waist, his breath hot against your skin he begins trailing his mouth up your neck, like he’ll eventually meet god at your lips. A salvation, a small prayer.

"We could fight."

"We are fighting," you snap. "Every single day. And look where we are."

The competition looms in three days and you can hear the ringing in your ears, the humming, and you cannot ignore it. You will lose yourselves one way or another, and that is a tragedy, a certainty, that had loomed over you, that had awaited you.

The only thing you could do was to lie there, tangled in each other but impossibly separate, his heartbeat thundering against your chest where yours should be answering. 

Phainon's hand slides up your spine, pressing you closer like he can fuse your skeletons together. "Tell me to stay," he breathes.

"Why?"

"So I have a reason not to go."

Your fingers finally move—not to push him away, but to clutch the back of his shirt, twisting the fabric until your knuckles bleach white. The cotton stretches taut between you, threads straining like the last fraying ties to sanity. His warmth seeps through the thin material, burning your palms, but you hold tighter—as if you could stitch him into your skin with just your desperation alone.

"Stay," you whisper.

It's too much. It's not enough.

There’s a wet, broken sound—and suddenly his arms are crushing you against him, his face buried in your hair. You feel the exact moment his resolve shatters; the tremor that runs through him, the way his shoulders curl around you like he's trying to shield you from the world, from himself, from the inevitable.

You are so terribly, devastatingly alive together.

Alive in the way open wounds are alive—raw and pulsing and too tender to touch. Alive in the way a noose is alive when it snaps taut. Alive in the only way the world has allowed you to be: achingly, horrifyingly, beautifully alive, even as death crouches in the corner.

iii.) until the world stills, until you weave your hands into mine, until death embraces you

Inherently, every human is afraid of dying.

You’ve watched him on the big screen as he performs, as he tramples over every single person he is faced against, as his numbers rise higher and as it declares his win; his victory flashing as he smiles—that brilliant, broken smile—and bows like the good little performer they've molded him to be.

But you always see what they don't.

The way his fingers twitch at his sides when he thinks no one's looking. The barely-there tremor in his shoulders as he walks offstage. The single bead of sweat trailing down his temple that has nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with the knife's edge he's balancing on.

He does the same for you, he watches every single one of your performances with a glimmer in his eyes, like pride and adoration, but something else also stains the hues—fear, anxiety, and everything that makes his fingers tremble and his mind muddled. It’s raw and rancid.

It's in the way his breath catches when you hold a high note a second too long. In the way his lips move silently, mirroring your lyrics like a prayer. In how he searches and reaches for you after every round of yours, his trembling fingers skimming your wrist, your jaw, the pulse at your throat—as if to remind himself that you’re still here and alive, and the knowledge sits between you like a third body in bed.

The screen glimmers, your profile and his beside each other blinks mockingly. It’s like a death sentence. No, it is a death sentence.

The air hums with static as you walk toward the stage, each step heavier than the last. Anakt Garden's constraints had been suffocating, but this is akin to drowning in open air.

You've always thought Phainon would die under these lights. That his blood would be the one to stain the stage crimson, his final note ringing through the speakers as the audience cheered his demise. You'd imagined it so often the scene played behind your eyelids every night - his blue eyes going dull, his snow-white hair matted with red, his hand slipping from yours as the life left him.

Perhaps you’ve changed by now.

The bars of your scores compete against one another, numbers flashing across the screen in a cruel mockery of choice. You’ve cut your lines short, fallen into a note lower than you’re supposed to sing; you'd practiced this for weeks in empty rehearsal rooms—how to make imperfection look accidental, how to falter just enough.

Then you feel it - something cold punching through your neck, sharp and sudden. A gasp tears from your throat as warmth spills down your skin.

Phainon's eyes widen in dawning horror as your fingers twitch in his grasp; you swear you could hear him calling your name out in panic. He sees it before you do, before you even realize what is happening—the dark bloom staining across your clothes, the way your lips part to speak but only blood spills forth. Your knees buckle, and he moves without thought, catching you as you collapse against him.

Oh, you think, distantly amused. You’re dying.

And, oh, you are dying. The realization comes with startling clarity, with something almost like relief, and it feels euphoric like warm honey flooding your veins. It makes your chest ease as if you could ever breathe again—like the time he had shown you his ridiculous art piece with pride. Because you are the one dying, because you are the one bloodied and the crimson staining the stage is yours. You are dying, desperate and violent, but it’s you.

His arms tighten around you, his breath coming in ragged bursts against your temple. The audience's cheers fade to white noise as he presses his forehead to yours, his tears mixing with the blood on your lips. "We're okay," he chokes out, the words a desperate incantation. "We're okay, we're okay."

You can feel his heartbeat where your chests press together - wild and frantic and alive. So alive. More alive than you'll ever be again. The thought should terrify you. Instead, it settles in your bones like peace.

You kiss him instead of answering. His mouth tastes like the candy he stole from the cafeteria, like the salt of your shared sweat, like last chances. And when you pull away, his sob cracks through you like gunfire. You want to tell him it's alright. You want to tell him to run. Instead, your fingers find him, twining together one final time as the world narrows to the blue of his eyes, the warmth of his hands, the sound of your name on his lips.

You and him could have done so much more if you were on earth, instead of whatever rotten, disgusting stage this is. The thought comes unbidden, sharp as the pain radiating through your chest. 

You could have had lazy mornings in sunlit kitchens, his off-key humming drifting over sizzling pans. Could have traced the constellations on his skin without counting the scars. Could have stood before stained glass windows, vows spilling from bloodied lips not in desperation, but devotion.

Instead, you get this: his tears hot on your cheeks, his voice breaking around your name, the metallic tang of your last breath clinging to his tongue.

You don’t want to die, you never wanted to die—perhaps the feeble attempts of not caring whether you’ll end up bloodied whether on stage or on dirt were simply just things to lessen the growing void of fear that gnaws at your heart, to make it painless. But it hurts, it hurts so bad, you can feel it; your body feels cold, everything feels cold, your eyes are becoming blurry, and everything around you is fading into white noise. You don’t even feel Phainon’s arms wrapped around yours, gently cradling your existence within his grasp as if you’re going to slip away—because you are.

It all dawns on you. You feel selfish, you’re being selfish. Stupid, reckless, selfish. You’re going to leave him alone in this hell, with nothing but the memory of your blood on his hands and the echo of your voice in his ears. The realization claws up your throat, bitter as bile. You want to take it back. Want to scream. Want to beg for more time—just one more second, one more breath, one more chance to tell him—

“I know,” He presses his lips to your forehead, lingering like he could imprint himself there. “You’re not being selfish, I know.”

Of course, he does. He’s always known you like the back of his own scarred hands—known the way your bravado cracks at the edges when the lights dim, how your "I don't care" always meant "I care too much." Known that beneath all your sharp edges and bitten-off words, you were always the one who would throw yourself into the fire if it meant he could stand in the light a moment longer.

“Please,” You plead for the first time in your life, and it hurts to speak but you still do, fingers tightening weakly in his shirt. “Forgive yourself.”

The both of you had made this decision knowing it won’t end well. 

And you murmur it: the three words that have caused all of this mess, the confession that started your slow descent to madness. They taste sweet as stolen sugar on your dying tongue, bittersweet as the candy he used to slip into your palm. His arms tighten around you like he could rewrite fate through the sheer force of his embrace, and he wishes he could.

PHAINON WIN.

BRO IS NOT MIZISUA

© AZULLUMI. plagiarism of any form and type, stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is NOT permitted.

[yaboirezzy]

Other people's headcanon for the Royal Woods/Great Lakes folks: Everyone is so melodramatic, every single female is shipped with Lincoln, everyone hates the louds (except/especially Lincoln) because they're 'evil' and 'a pariah/bad luck', heinous incest shit, wait a second the louds have friends?!?!

My headcanon:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A procession of confessions.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[sysig]

Do not separate them /threatening (Patreon)

[ghost-bxrd]

because apparently it bears repeating:

No ship/character bashing on this blog! You’re just tempting me to write exactly that content out of spite.