#head empty just chomp

[shy-writer-999]

It's getting hot in here...

Summary: After a nice meal, you start to feel weird. Did you eat something funny? It turns out everyone is feeling the same, and there's only one thing to do about it. Read content warnings please!

CW: Lots of nasty sex. Afab reader, G/N language. Aphrodisiacs. TONS of zosan gay shit (like 50% of this fic). Could be considered dubcon because the aphrodisiacs are strong and reader keeps losing touch with reality, but it is consensual >_> Voyerusim, dacryphilia, begging, dry humping, edging, masturbation, "good boy," riding, prone bone, you name it. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS (VERY) NSFW CONTENT.

Something was in the water at the new island the Sunny anchored on. Or was it in the wine? The bread? The butter? You couldn’t remember what you ate. Your memory of the night was blurred—scattered scenes played through your mind the next day. Your recollection was… messy and nonsensical. You tried to recount the night.

In the early hours of the night in question, Sanji went into the island’s town to get supplies and ingredients for dinner. It was a nice day full of free time, clear skies with a slight breeze.

Nami and Robin went shopping and they wouldn’t be back on the ship in time for dinner. Brook, Usopp, Chopper, and Franky went off and did god knows what. Similarly, they wouldn’t be back in time for the evening meal. Sanji promised to make enough so they could have leftovers later.

When everyone went on their separate outings, that left you, Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji on the ship.

It was a small, simple, and delicious dinner that night. An intimate setting with just you four, a nice opportunity to hang out with part of the East Blue crew. You were soaking in some modicum of silence and peace (whenever Luffy allowed it) on the mostly empty ship.

Aside from Luffy’s chomping and smacking noises while he ate, dinner was relatively silent. Sanji and Zoro weren’t butting heads for once, either. You sat at the table, talked sparingly, and drank some of the wine that Sanji bought in town.

When dinner was over, you helped Sanji wash up (like usual), then you sat at the dinner table and did some reading.

An hour or so passed. You read your book while Sanji prepped food and cleaned the kitchen a few feet away. Gradually, the room got warmer. You opened a window, letting in some of the cool evening air, propped a door open, and sat back down again.

After a few minutes, you noticed that you felt a bit ill. Lightly perspiring, you almost shivered—your limbs felt heavy, you felt light-headed. You tried to reason it away. Did you have too much wine?

No, you didn’t. You stood up, and as you rose to your feet you realized that you felt like you were going to pass out. At the same time, your body started to buzz. You had never felt like this before. Something was seriously off.

Sanji was still in the kitchen cleaning up, and you staggered in his direction, stopping at the sink to splash some water on your face. The cold water felt great on your hot cheeks, and you could have sworn you saw steam rise up from where the cool droplets met your skin.

“My love, are you alright?” Sanji’s sweet voice shocked you out of your feverish stupor. You had almost forgotten he was there. When you turned to face him, your body pulsed and heat tingled outwards from between your legs, radiating to your whole body. He had never looked so good before.

The blonde’s eyes widened in shock—your pupils were dilated, your breathing was shallow and quick, and your face was covered in a sheen of sweat. He brought a hand to your forehead and confirmed that you had a fever. “Are you sick, dearest? You don’t look well.”

When his skin touched yours, your breath hitched. “Sanji, I don’t feel too good.”

“Do you need to go lay down? I’ll get Chopper to come take your temperature and give you something to help you feel better, okay?”

You didn’t know it, but Sanji was starting to feel ill, too. He was sweating just barely and had, up until that point, been blaming it on the fact that he just cooked and cleaned and was a bit exhausted. But what was more concerning to him was that in your feverish state you looked even more beautiful than usual—no, beautiful wasn’t the right word. In his mind he remarked that you looked fucking hot. Stunning. Sexy, even.

He could rip your clothes off here and now and ravage you, had you been up for it. But that sentiment wasn’t necessarily out of the norm, rather, it was that you were evidently sick, and he was starting to feel a bit woozy himself.

Maybe the food had turned, and he didn’t realize it, so you were both suffering from food poisoning. But that would have been very unlike him to not pick up on the food tasting rotten. It must have been something else. Did you both pick up some virus from the last island you were on? Like Nami on Little Garden that one time?

A soft whine slipped out of your lips. The noise made his stomach flip. You sounded like you were in pain but… you also sounded a bit erotic to him. In this state, his mind raced. Is that what you would sound like in bed? Whining like that?

Sanji mentally berated himself more than ever before, letting self-disgust wash over for a moment before he shook it off. When he got back to his senses (he had been staring at you for only a couple of seconds), he started to guide you to your cabin for some rest. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you to bed.”

But no matter how many internal curses he threw at himself, he felt a tent forming in his pants. Something weird was happening.

He balked at the idea that seeing you in your current state was getting him so flustered. You were ill, after all. What sort of gentleman would he be right now, if he was thirsting over you while you had a dangerously high fever and were obviously in pain?

As he tried to shrug off how odd he was starting to feel, the blonde chef guided you down the hallway and towards your room. You walked behind him and your vision started to get splotchy. With every degree your fever worsened, you felt something get more intense—was this feeling arousal? At a time like this?  

Sure enough, heat bloomed between your legs; small zaps of pleasure radiated outwards with each step. The arousal-sickness combination was disorienting and concerning.

And not only were you just aroused, but it was coupled with wild sensitivity—as you moved, the fabric of your pants brushed down there, sending an electric shock up your spine as the tingling sensation intensified. Were you hallucinating, or was wetness seeping out of your core, saturating your panties?

The walk down the hallway felt like years.

By the time you were almost to your bed, you were soaking wet from nothing other than walking. You tried to squeeze your legs together. Was there a stain on your pants from how unreasonably wet you were? Should you hide it? The fabric of your pants was rubbing you just right, and, in the moment you sat on the (conveniently large) bed, you convulsed in pleasure. Undeniably, you moaned. A quiet one, but a moan, no less.

You sat there for a few seconds, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as you positively buzzed in pleasure. You didn’t know what was happening, and you were unaware that you were slowly rubbing your thighs together, drawing out more tingles of pleasure. Was that an orgasm?

Sanji’s mind was racing, and he was hyperaware of everything—every shallow breath and flutter of your eyes was making his heart patter and the tent in his pants grow. He was fully erect now, and his mind was so scrambled that he didn’t even think of hiding it. He almost couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

It was from this point on that you started to question if any of this was real or if you were just having a fever dream.

Sanji stood over you, watching in what could be called a mixture of concern and rabid desire. Your eyes opened finally, and it felt like you had tunnel vision. You noticed it then—his erection, hard and big. There was a visible stain on his bulge where precum pooled into the fabric. His cock twitched when he realized your eyes were focused on it.

“A-are you okay?” Sanji asked. He didn’t know what to say. He needed to drag himself away to a bathroom and deal with this.

His words got caught in his throat as your body literally worked against your own whims. Your fingers moved like they were being controlled by a puppeteer—you watched them in third person as they trailed down your abdomen and came to rest over your throbbing core.

Looking up at him, you gave yourself a squeeze through your pants. Some erotic sound tumbled from your lips. Your fingers started to circle over the fabric of your pants where your clit must have been, and you spread your thighs a bit. You couldn’t control yourself.

“Help, Sanji,” you whispered, mouth dry. “Don’t know what’s happening. Can’t stop.” Your fingers moved faster, building a crescendo of pleasure that would crash onto you soon. You felt like you were going crazy with need. No longer focused on the fever wracking your body, your mind knew only one thing: you needed pleasure.

If you didn’t get more soon, you were worried you’d pass out. Or something would happen. Would you go crazy?

“H-help?” Sanji’s voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

“Touch me,” you whimpered, fingers moving faster now. His jaw dropped.

Luffy suddenly staggered to the door and leaned on the frame. He was unbothered by the sight in front of him and, quite frankly, he looked a damn mess. His hair was plastered down on his forehead in sweat, he had no shirt on, and his pajama pants were riding down, showing the band of his boxers.

“Guys,” Luffy’s voice was strained. “I feel really weird.”

Your eyes darted down. Luffy was rock hard, bulge standing out against the gray fabric of his pants. His cloudy vision came to rest on your chest. With no care in the world, one of his hands reached down to start rubbing himself.

“It won’t go away no matter what I do,” Luffy rubbed the heel of his hand down the outline of his erection, and his words were broken by a loud grunt. “I came here to ask for help but it—it looks like you beat me to it.” He cracked a grimace/smile and threw his head back after a moment, leaning his whole weight on the door frame as he touched himself through the fabric.

You snuck a hand into your pants. Brushing your clit gently, you keened. You were on autopilot, incapable of controlling your actions and not the most cognizant. All you knew was you needed more, and if you didn’t get more, something bad would happen.

“Mmmphhhh,” Luffy stifled a groan as he squeezed himself, lost in his own world. “It’s like my body is on fire.”

Your vision went black around the edges—you started to rub faster, spreading your legs open wide and creeping your fingers under your panties.

Burying your hand in your underwear, you hissed in air at your teeth as your fingertips came in contact with your hot folds. Your back arched and a needy sound trickled out. “F-fuck, Sanji help me.”

Sanji froze, eyes glued on your hand that was shoved down your pants, stirring under the fabric. The stain on his pants got bigger and wetter—it was very noticeable.  

“What do you want me to do love?” He asked in a hushed, hesitant tone. He was holding onto his last shreds of reason, trying not to pounce on you, but those shreds of rationality were slipping out of his grasp like sand.

Your vision started to go black. You closed your eyes, lost in the pleasure that you pulled from yourself in a daze. Sanji reached a hand up to your core and ran a thumb up and down over the fabric above your clit. Your wetness was seeping through the layers already.

Some amount of time passed. You came and it helped you regain lucidity. When you opened your eyes—you had no clue how long it had been—you were laying on the bed and Luffy stood over you, watching intently.

Sanji was sitting at the end of the bed, now shamelessly digging his thumb into the tip of his cock, playing with his slit as clear precum seeped out of it. His hips bucked upwards a few times and you watched. You realized that you were touching yourself, moving your fingers in swift and messy need.

Luffy leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. The first few kisses were surprisingly sweet, loving, even, but they quickly turned sloppy. He maneuvered onto the bed—now, his knee was pressed against your core, a hand braced on one side of your head, and the other rested on your cheek as he kissed you passionately.

You made out for a few seconds, grinding down onto his knee a bit, aiming for friction. Your mewls were driving him and Sanji insane—the blonde continued to tease himself and stroke slowly while he watched Luffy take in every inch of you with his lips. The captain’s lips moved south.

He pulled your pants and panties off quickly, spread your thighs wide, and started to eat you out on the spot. Pressing his tongue on your clit, the captain drew soft circles around your sensitive bud, then he swiped his tongue up and down along your entrance. Luffy wasted no time slurping and greedily licking every inch and crevice of you that he could.

You started to lose touch with reality again—you realized, distantly and in third person, that whatever was wrong with you seemed like you would start to black out any time you went too long without an orgasm. As you were making this conclusion, a loud thud at the door distracted you once again.

Zoro’s body had dragged him across the ship, bringing him to your room of its own accord. He could hardly walk, slamming into the door frame, and before he knew it, he was sitting on the bed next to Sanji, eyes darting between Luffy eating you out and the blonde’s fist stroking and squeezing his hard on.

Your eyes shifted to Zoro, sitting with his legs spread wide on the bed next to Sanji. The swordsman started running a palm over his clothed erection. His breaths were fast, his cheeks were bright pink, he didn’t seem fully aware of the fact his eyes were glued on his nemesis/frenemy’s fist pumping over his cock.

No one said a word for a few moments. It was a silent agreement—whatever was happening needed to be addressed, and there was only one thing to do.

It had been too long without climax for you (again). Your vision went black and your mind went blank. When an orgasm finally crashed into you, minutes later, it brought you back to reality and a few moments of lucidity. Your ears were greeted by a cacophony of ragged breaths and deep groans to your left.

Turning your head, your eyes were met with the sight of two people (who you thought utterly hated each other) entangled on the bed.

Sanji was completely naked, while Zoro had on short, tight, black boxer-briefs. He was on top of Sanji, rubbing his aching erection on Sanji’s while his brows furrowed and needy sounds trickled out of his mouth. Every few seconds, Sanji let out a whimper and arched his back off the bed.

“Don’t stop,” Sanji gasped, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as Zoro’s muscles rippled.

“I f-fucking can’t,” the swordsman grunted in response, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Your eyes stayed glued on the pair, bewildered and feral, until Luffy’s tongue, buried inside of you, demanded your attention. Was he using his devil fruit powers? Head had never felt this good before. His tongue prodded your pulsing hotness, sliding up and down greedily between your lips before pushing inside of you again.

The slurping noises from your captain were sinful. Your eyes crept from his head buried between your legs to the sight of his hips rutting on the sheets beneath. His cock craved friction. He wished his tongue wasn’t buried in you but something else instead.

Grabbing tufts of Luffy’s hair, you dragged his mouth closer, pressing his roaming tongue as deep as physically possible.

“L-luffy, need m-more. Please.” You begged, vision getting blurry around the edges. You felt hotter than before.

Instead of your captain’s voice in response, a loud moan from Sanji answered your pleading. Your eyes snapped to the pair of men again—Sanji was squirming under the swordsman, shuddering and clawing at Zoro’s biceps now as he grinded up into his cock.

“Cumming,” the blonde grunted, pushing his hips upward, grinding harder onto Zoro. “I’m c-cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The chef came on his own stomach while Zoro rocked his hips into the blonde’s shaft with more urgency, overstimulating him and eliciting desperate cries.

“Can’t stop,” Zoro choked out amidst his own moans and heaves for air.

Tears pricked in the corner of the chef’s eyes, but he didn’t tell the swordsman to stop, in fact, he rutted his hips up again and again. He was gearing up for yet another orgasm when Zoro brought him into a kiss and trailed his fingers towards the blonde’s erection.

More moments fleeted by—more gut-wrenching pleasure from Luffy’s tongue inside of you, hazy images of Sanji and Zoro grinding on each other, smearing the milky puddle of cum all over Sanji’s abdomen on Zoro’s underwear and abs.

Your eyes fixated on the outline of Zoro’s erection through the damp fabric. You were mesmerized.

Time faded into oblivion. The next memory you had was of Zoro flipping you over, onto your stomach, and climbing on top of you. He positioned you in prone bone, pressing his chest on your back. Trailing his fingers down and squeezing a rough handful of your ass, he then dipped two fingers into your hot folds and coaxed fireworks of pleasure from you.

Zoro relished how wet and ready you were for him thanks to Luffy’s previous work. He played with you for a little while, dragging his finger pads across your g-spot repeatedly and curling them upwards inside of you until you begged for more. When he pushed his cock inside, he felt so big that it was almost painful. He entered you centimeters at a time, and when he finally bottomed out and the ring of hair around the base of his cock met your flesh, his hips started to pump into yours rhythmically, gaining speed each moment that passed.

“Feels hot and s-sticky inside,” he gasped, hips shuddering into you as his tip passed your g-spot. You shifted under him the slightest bit, drawing a sensitive gasp from the swordsman. Every movement from him felt euphoric—and coupled with his weight on top of you, you felt like you were going crazy with desire. He couldn’t fuck you fast enough.

Turning your head, you realized that Sanji had one hand wrapped around his cock again but was now in a similar position to you. He was flush with the bed, chest pressing on the covers, simultaneously stroking himself and humping the sheets as he watched Zoro fuck you.

Zoro groaned pure filth in your ear. “Just like that, baby. Fuhccckkk. Feels so good.”

Each pass of Zoro’s length inside of you and past your g-spot was met with a squelching noise from how wet you were—every roll of his hips pushed him deeper inside of you and it felt like you were floating.

As Sanji watched, his fist moved faster and so did his hips. He roughly jerked his length and rubbed his glistening tip into the covers. His cock felt hot, it was pulsing, and each brush of his flesh against the fabric made him shiver. He was working off of animal instinct alone, eyes so dilated and mind so foggy that all he knew was that he felt good and he didn’t want it to stop. He could watch the pair of you for hours. He didn’t care.

Voice husky and bathed in lust, Zoro was getting more worked up. “Say my name,” he groaned as his length passed in and out of you. “Say it.”

Before his name could exit your lips, Sanji moaned into the sheets below. “Zoro. Zoro. Hah, fuck, Zoro.” Moments later, you watched him orgasm all over the sheets below, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut.

Hearing the chef’s desperate, pathetic mewls made Zoro fuck you faster. Just when you thought you were at the precipice of orgasm, Zoro reached a hand under you and started to rub your clit, then he bit your shoulder. The pain felt good, and the combination of sensations was overwhelming—your orgasm was intense, shocking, and ecstatic.

A fleeting thought passed through your mind—where’s Luffy?

He was perched at the end of the bed, touching himself to the sight, waiting for his turn, which he promptly took when Zoro was done with you.

The next scene in your memory was Luffy fucking you, but you weren’t quite sure how you got there. You did remember that right before Luffy touched you, he asked you softly, “Do you want to keep going? Or have you had enough?”

You croaked out an eager, “more.”

“On top?” Luffy asked, waiting for your confirmation. And when you again agreed, he shifted, so he was laying on the bed, and you were on top of him.

Sinking down on his cock, you started to ride him. His hands came to rest on your hips and his eyes looked hungry. As if he wasn’t full from the ridiculously huge meal he just ate.

Parallel to you and Luffy, Zoro had Sanji on his lap. Zoro’s chest pressed on Sanji’s back, so the chef was facing you and Luffy. The swordsman’s large, rough hand wrapped around Sanji’s front. Languidly, Zoro played with Sanji’s shaft, teasing him at a snail’s pace.

Zoro wasn’t all there mentally because of (what you deduced to be) the aphrodisiacs. It’s like he was running on pure thirst. Something in him wanted Sanji to beg and wanted to see you getting off to the sight. He was getting a kick out of the cook being absolutely pathetic. He wanted to see him be utterly shameless.

“’m gonna cum,” Sanji whimpered, writhing around on the stocky pair of hair thighs underneath him.

“Shhh. Not yet, cook. Can’t you hold on for a little bit longer? Don’t you want to watch?”

Sanji got quieter and nodded, holding his orgasm at bay as best he could while he watched you ride Luffy, who was practically growling out commands faster than you could keep up.

 “Faster.” “Faster.” “Harder.” “More.” Every time he spoke, you did as he said. You did so until your legs started to burn, until your thighs started to shake, until he was doing all the work for you, lifting you up and down on his shaft.

He pressed his tip on your spongey hot spot and wrenched pleasure from you. Zoro edged and teased Sanji within an inch of his life while the pair of them watched—it was almost cruel. The cook was in tears over how good it felt, how badly he wanted to keep cumming, and how much it was getting to his head.

“Please Z-zoro, fuck, please.” Sanji was close to his breaking point.

“Just a bit longer, curly brows, hold on.”

A few more seconds passed. It didn’t take long for Luffy to bring you to the brink of orgasm, which was what Zoro was hoping for. As you started to shake, eyes rolling back in white-hot pleasure from your orgasm, Zoro finally gave Sanji permission to cum.

You hadn’t expected the swordsman to be this controlling, this mean, and this verbal.

“Mmmphhhh. Just like that,” Zoro exhaled while he watched you cum all over Luffy’s cock. “Now you can cum.” He then murmured something in Sanji’s ear that would have left you gob smacked if you had enough wherewithal to think. “There’s a good boy.”

While Sanji painted his own stomach white, you collapsed on top of Luffy. He kissed the side of your head and started to pet your hair.

“You need a break?” He asked you, voice tender and kinder than usual. You nodded and then drifted into unconsciousness for some period of time.

Memories after this point completely faded to black. You had some notion of waking up and sucking Zoro off and then riding Sanji until he cried again, but… the images were blurred. Someone came on your face, two indiscernible figures in your memory were entangled on the sheets again, but… you drew a blank after a point.

---

When you finally came to, you concluded that whatever the fuck that was must have been a very strong aphrodisiac. You couldn’t figure out what it was in though—the wine? The water? Something in the food? Whatever it was, it must have gotten out of your system through sheer number of orgasms and hours of fucking.

You were still on your bed, under the covers and tucked in along with Luffy. Sanji and Zoro were off somewhere, presumably getting cleaned up but…? Who knows. 

You checked the clock—it was around 10:00PM. You, Sanji, Luffy, and Zoro had been going at it since 5:00PM, shortly after your early dinner. So… almost five whole hours? But you didn’t feel like it, really. You weren’t sore or anything which was a feat in itself.

Putting some clothes on, you wandered to the kitchen for a glass of water. You were parched. You’d have to wait to debrief until you saw Zoro or Sanji, or until Luffy woke up.

You walked into the kitchen and were met with a sight that broke your brain for a second. Nami, Robin, Franky and Usopp were at the dinner table, chowing down on the dinner leftovers Sanji packaged up for them in cute little serving boxes. They must have just gotten back from their outings.

Your eyes flashed around the room—wine bottles were open. They were having a grand old time.

Your stomach sank. Fuck. They were about to have even grander of a time if they kept eating and drinking like that. You’d have to sit yourself out for round two—not sure you could handle it, honestly.

After that night, you came to a good understanding of the dynamics with each man in bed. Not only from your memory, but because you went in for seconds with each of them at some point. Luffy was greedy and forthcoming, but kind, like usual. Zoro was an absolute machine, filthy and verbose. And Sanji was, well, Sanji. He was doting, pathetic, and desperate. What a good variety to choose from—you were never left wanting again.

ik im gonna look back at this later and go GOD DAMN woman, were you okay? frothing at the mouth. anyway...

thanks for reading!! this was pretty challenging for me, i wanted it to be halfway decent but just couldn't get it anywhere i wanted really T-T idk if i'll ever live up to the luffy aphrodisiac kinktober fic i wrote :p

here's my masterlist if you're interested!

dividers courtesy of @issysh3ll taglist @eggrollforyou !

[todomochi-uwu]

About last night | R. Z

Pairing(s): Roronoa Zoro x reader Genre: Angst, fluff Warnings: This content is for a mature audience Synopsis: What are we? Author's notes: It seems all I can write are self-indulgences, enjoy. Masterlist If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Once again, the crew was celebrating a victory. 

Nami and Robin were dancing together; Luffy was chomping down every single bite left of the buffet; Usopp and Chopper were goofing around the island; Sanji was surrounded by a bunch of beautiful ladies; Franky was in the middle of arm wrestling some poor loser; and Zoro was, as usual, downing bottle after bottle of sake. You were content seeing each of your crewmates have fun and relax after the rough days you’d gone through, but there was an empty feeling in your chest.  

You looked at him and wondered if the same questions ran around his head. Did you ever cross his mind other than when you were in bed together? Did he ever want more? Or was it just you? 

Whatever you two were seemed to be enough, in the beginning. Now, the nights you used to crave so much seemed turned insipid. Not to say Zoro wasn’t a great lover, of course not, but once the act itself was done, all his warmth died down, quick to ask if you were okay, and proceeded to snore almost right away.  

Admittedly, it was no one's fault but your own for allowing yourself to fall for the swordsman. 

Your heart, body, and soul ask for more, not only for his body to embrace you but also for his entire being to give you the same passion with which he fights, with which he drinks, with which he lives.                           ...but that would be asking too much from someone who doesn’t love you. 

So now, your punishment is to wait and see if he’ll ever. 

"Hello, love, is this seat taken?” 

“All yours, Sanji.” You gave him a small smile. Trying to hide what’s already written all over your face. 

He lit a cigarette and turned to look at you. "My god, you are gorgeous." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. " Why don't you go dance with the girls? They are having fun. Maybe that’ll cheer you up.” 

“M’okay.” You whispered, looking at your feet. 

Yeah, you had gotten all dolled up. A cute, and kinda risky dress (courtesy of Nami’s closet); some small heels; shimmery makeup and a quick bun with some face-framing hair pieces. Robin said you looked gorgeous, that anyone would be a fool not to notice you. Yeah, well, apparently, he was.  

"Come on, love. I can’t stand seeing you dress to the nines only to spend all night glued to a chair.” He caressed your cheek. Why couldn’t you fall for Sanji? It would be a thousand times easier, I mean yeah, he might be a perv and a whore, but at least he was honest and transparent with his feelings. Always paying compliments and showing his love through food, no puzzles, no mental games, just plain and painfully obvious love. Must be nice. 

You leaned against the warmth of his skin, "You know why I’m like this, Ji.” 

He scoffed, “Don’t remind me, still can’t believe you fell for that fucking marimo, he’s beneath you, princess.” He lit up another cigarette, taking a deep drag as he looked at where the source of all your troubles remained. Wasted. Dishevelled. Relaxed. "You deserve everything good in this world, and yet you settle for someone like him. I don’t get it.” 

“Sanji.” You gave him a sad smile. He didn’t mean the things he said about Zoro, but he would always try to protect you. 

"Dance with me." He took your hand in between his, sweetly stroking the back of it. Just as you were about to get up, wanting to end your pity party, an uproarious crash turned everyone’s heads. Boisterous laughs and the flapping sounds of sandals running down the corridor. 

“Give me a second, beautiful.” He gave you a bright smile, before running off to the kitchen (you guessed), where Luffy was probably tormenting some poor cooks. “Goddamit, Luffy, why are you like this?!” 

You simply laughed.  

“He’s not wrong, y’know?” You flinched. Where in the fuck was he hiding? “You look drop-dead gorgeous.” 

You just blushed. How does one accept compliments again? 

He extended his hand, “...” The guy from the bounty poster, the one Nami had been gushing about when you first arrived at the island; wait, what was his name? “Saw you fighting back there, you have some impressive moves.” 

“Thank you.” You chuckled awkwardly. Oh god, you and your incompetence against social skills.  

“Care for some company?” 

“Sure.” 

He sat next to you, taking a sip of his drink, "Thank gods you said yes, I spent like two hours trying to grow a pair just to talk to you.” 

“Really?”, you giggled, “why?” 

“Why? Do you really have to ask? I don’t think you know how beautiful you are.” 

"Oh." You looked down, your face hurt. 

“Let’s see if I get lucky one more time.”, he extended his hand, “would you dance with me?” 

“Umm...”, you looked at Zoro one more time, hoping he at least was looking your way, but no. Too busy drowning himself with sake and ale along with some of the other warriors to notice you, “yeah, why not?” 

The next hour you spent beside him on the dance floor. He told you all about his crew, how they had ended up at that island and the things he’d done that earned him that bounty price. He was as much of a good dancer as he was a storyteller, making you forget about your sorrows, at least for a couple of hours. 

Nami and Robin were sending looks your way, whistling and throwing kissy faces. You simply laughed and shook your head.  

His movements were precise, spinning you and pulling you at the right pace of the music, his fingers ran up and down your back, grazing your waist, sending shivers down your skin, the way his mouth would whisper against your ear made your poor heart jump. If only a certain man wasn’t in the back of your head, you might have let yourself fall, just for tonight. 

At some point, you had asked him to step out with you, the heat becoming too much. You sat on the balcony, looking at the scenery, the moon and the stars, the soft ocean waves, Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp being chased down by Sanji. Everything was okay — at least on the outside.  

-

“Look at our beautiful seamstress, doing the walk of shame, heels on one hand and makeup smeared all over that pretty face." Nami said, giggling, just as you approached the Sunny, "had a good night, princess?" 

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny." You flashed her the middle finger, "fuck you." 

“My god, do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Or better yet, do you suck co..:” 

“Shut up!” Cheeks bright red. 

Hell of a night you had. No, you hadn’t gotten laid last night, much to your dismay. After declining your companion’s advances, you had gotten wasted and passed out on the grass somewhere on the island;  mosquitos did have their way with you and left bites on your neck, shoulders and legs; one of your heels had snapped so you took them off, and, because you stepped on a stone, you were walking funny; you also wouldn’t stop crying so you had mascara smeared all over your face. So much for a victory celebration. 

“I’m going to bed, please, please, don’t bother me. All I want is to die right now.” 

Both girls looked at you with sympathy; they knew your heart was broken, and theirs broke because of that. If only the culprit weren't such an idiot. 

Robin stroked your back, "We are just kidding, babe. Want me to get you some tea?" 

"No, I just want to lie down. Need to rethink some life choices.” 

“Of course, I’ll check on you later.” 

You hummed, going straight to your cabin.  

-

“Has Y/n come back? I didn’t see her last night.” 

"Wait, she didn't sleep here?" Sanji said, alarmed. 

“Don’t worry, she’s back. She went to bed; she was exhausted." Robin sipped her coffee. 

“Poor thing didn’t get an ounce of sleep last night. She was... busy.” She grinned. She spied on Zoro out of the corner of her eye. He had woken up, now trying to look indifferent, but she knew he was very alert. She had seen him checking the deck every couple of minutes, waiting for a certain girl to come back; she was sure he was about to go out and look for her when she showed up. 

“Oh, right! I saw her talking to some guy last night, he had white and black spiky hair, tall and buff, yeah, he seemed nice.” Usopp said, eating his lunch. 

“This guy?” Robin conveniently pulled out the bounty poster.  

"Yes! Oh, wow, look at his bounty, that’s a nice number.” Nami gasped, it was an overkill, but she knew the marimo head wouldn’t notice. 

“It’s not that big of a deal. Mine’s bigger.” The targeted man said, jaw clenched and teeth grinding. 

“I mean, it’s quite big, either way. Plus, cute and a high bounty, it’s any girl pirate’s dream.” 

His face turned a deeper shade of red. 

Sanji laughed loudly, “Stupid marimo", before realising what was going on, "Wait, Nami-swan, you think this guy is attractive? He looks so bland! Ugh, his face makes me want to throw up.” He continued making gagging noises. 

“Well, I think he’s cute, but our dear seamstress deemed it nice enough to sit on it.” Usopp choked on his food, coughing and reprimanding the navigator on her vulgarity, while covering Chopper’s ears. 

“Huh? What does that mean? Why would Y/n use his face as a chair?" Luffy said, tilting his head, "Is his face comfy? I don’t think it can be, can it be Zoro?” He pulled on the swordsman’s sleeve, wanting answers. Precious and naive Luffy. 

"It's nothing, Luffy," Sanji said, cheeks bright red. 

“No, but what is it?” The captain continued, “Hey, someone answer me.” 

Nami simply ignored him, "Must have been one hell of a night, she could barely walk straight.” 

Zoro’s right hand now wrapped around his sword; the left one was tightly gripped around his mug. Fumes coming out of his nostrils. It’s almost hilarious how easy he was.  

Crack! 

Franky knew exactly what she was doing, and while at first, he decided to just lean back and enjoy the show, his natural instincts barged in. “He had some great moves on him." He got up and started moving his hips suggestively, "he was so smooth, I was almost jealous... of her” 

 He was also tired of the tugging and pulling that the boat’s sweethearts had, and (though he would never admit it) he loved gossip. 

“She looked so gorgeous yesterday, my heart almost stopped. Well... if I had one.” Brook broke into giggles, then took a sip of his tea. Whether he knew what was going on is unknown, but he always had great timing. “I wonder if he got to see her panties.” 

Crack! 

“Did she dance all night? Is that why her legs hurt?" Luffy continued. 

Crack! 

"Well, they sure did a lot of work, oh, and her hips must be killing her, all that grinding and thrusting, music sure was intense last night.” Yeah, that was enough. 

Crack! 

The ceramic had finally given in. White dust and bits of it now lay on the table and floor. Zoro got up, snapping the back of his chair in the process, he stomped his way down the corridor. 

Robin giggled, placing her face against her palm, amused by the scene. Nami could only sigh. Finally. 

“Hey, Zoro! Don’t go around breaking things!” Usopp yelled. 

“What’s going on? Where’s he going?" said Luffy, not catching a single clue. 

-

He didn’t even bother knocking, straight up slamming the door. 

“Where were you last night?” 

Completely disoriented. “Huh?” Your eyes could barely open. 

“Where. Were. You. Last. Night?” 

“What? What do you want, Zoro? I’m tired.” You turned to your side, burying your face in your pillow. 

Air abandoned his lungs. Purple marks... deep purple marks covered your neck. Mascara running down your cheeks. The hoarseness in your voice. A vision he knew all too well, Nami was right. 

His mouth dried up like Yuba, he felt like screaming, throwing up and running away all at the same time. His feet were cemented to the ground; millions of questions roamed around his head. Were you still his? Please, please tell him that no one had put their hands where he did most nights, that no one pulled noises out of you only meant for him to hear, that you hadn’t allowed anyone to see you in ways only he had. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. What's up with him? “I was at the party; you saw me there.” 

“After that, where did you go? You didn’t sleep here? Where were you?” He pushed, hating how desperate he sounded. 

“Zoro...” 

He glared at you.  

A toxic brew formed in your chest: heartache, a hangover and lack of sleep, don’t make a good combination. “What’s it to you?! Fuck, Zoro why are you acting like this?” 

“I have every fucking right to know!” Now full-on yelling. 

“No, you don’t! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You sat down on the bed, glaring directly into his eyes.  

“I want to know who the fuck my girlfriend spent the night with!” 

...

 

His what? 

“What?” You whispered, the pounding in your head now in sync with the one in your chest. 

“Who did you fuck last night?” His fists tightened at his sides, bile spitting out of his mouth.  

Your brain could barely process what was going on. His girlfriend? Fucked someone last night? Huh? 

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n, the rest of the crew saw you. Getting all cozed up with that lowlife.” 

His eyes didn’t waver, waiting for an answer, demanding it. Any confirmation that you hadn’t betrayed him, but he got none. So, he did what he always does best: he put his walls up. "Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore.” He turned to leave, stomping his way out, not wanting you to see him this vulnerable. Panic flooded your chest. You couldn’t let him go now, not like this, you were quick to grab him by the arm, "Let me go, woman.” 

“No, we have to talk about this.” 

“What’s there to talk about? I don’t tolerate disloyalty, no matter how drunk you were or who it was with.” 

“I didn’t sleep with anyone.” 

He turned to look at you; you knew he didn’t believe you by the look on his face. 

“Zoro, I swear.” You begged. 

He didn’t say anything. 

“I passed out drunk on some hill, completely alone.” 

He scanned your face and voice, searching for any traces of lies. "You have marks all over your body." 

“I do?” You looked at your skin, noticing small red splotches all over your shoulders; your fingers touched your neck, tiny bumps covering it and itching, “Yeah, I think bugs had a great time last night.” 

You could see him hurting, but you were just as confused as he was, “I’m not lying, Zoro.” 

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. He looked at the floor, not daring to look you in the eyes. 

“Yes, I’ll admit I was dancing with someone,” his frown deepened, “but I rejected him, nothing happened.” You touch his chest, moving up to his neck, making him look at you. You were sincere, he knew that now, but he was still aching. 

“Now, I need you to tell me something.” Your voice got really quiet. "What are we?" 

“What do you mean?" he gave you a puzzled look. 

“Us. What are we doing? What’s this?” You gestured between you and him. 

His eyebrows arched, "We are dating, aren't we?" 

“I don’t know. Are we? You never talk to me, Zoro, I never know what’s going on in your mind.” 

“I assumed we were together because we... sleep together.” He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks turning red. 

“Oh...”, well shit. 

“What? Do you think I just go around sleeping with anyone?” 

“No, no, but you never said anything to me, never gave me a sign or a label or anything.” 

“Sex isn’t enough of a sign?” He snorted. 

“Well... no, Sanji always talks about...” 

He groaned, shaking his head, "Don't talk about him, not right now or ever." 

“Okay.” You bit your lip, not knowing where to go from there. 

"Stop overthinking, you always do that." He stepped closer, pulling you into his chest, "Is that what this is about? Was yesterday's tantrum because of this?” 

“It wasn’t a tantrum! I was genui..." The green haired man cut you off, tugging your chin in between his fingers. 

"You are such a baby. Why didn’t you just talk to me?” 

“I don’t know how to.” You looked away. 

“Fair, I don’t know how to, either.” 

You both fell silent, not knowing what else to say. You blamed Zoro for his lack of communication and clarity, but you were just as bad at it. Minutes went by, simply spent in the comfort of each other's arms,  

“Look, we don’t have to solve everything right this second, okay? Just... okay?" He placed a small yet firm kiss on your lips. 

“Okay.” 

[suksatoru]

kiss it better; k. bakugo

you forgot to give katsuki his good morning kiss—and he is not happy about it.

pairing: katsuki bakugo x you!

Your boyfriend is fuming—steam coming out of his head, red in the face type of fuming. You can see him in the corner of your eye, burning a hole into the side of your head. The pencil he was holding as he did his homework snapped in half within an instant.

You furrow your brows in concern, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him this time. He looked like a ticking time bomb—as if he would implode any moment. You send your boyfriend a small frown, and mouth 'what?' but he merely grits his teeth, grabbing a new pencil from his backpack as he turns his back to you and scribbles away at his work—ignoring you completely.

You pout when he turns away from you, and Mina pokes you with the end of her pen as she laughs.

"What's he whining about this time?" She questions, and you can see the muscles in Katsuki's back tense up—you know he wants to turn around and snap back, but he remains still, peering down at the math worksheet in front of him with a clenched jaw.

"I don't know. But—he might be hungry!" You say, digging into your backpack to find one of his snacks as Mina's eyes light with amusement.

"Hangry." She jokes, and you suppress your laughter for your boyfriend's sake as you approach his desk with apple slices in hand—freshly cut by your loving hands this morning and packed into a little orange zippy bag.

"Kats," You singsong, sitting in the empty seat beside him as you hold out his apple slices with a smile. He turns around with a scowl, but his eyes soften just the slightest bit when he sees you brought him something to eat. Unfortunately, they harden once again as he turns away from you.

"I'm not hungry, you idiot. Do you need help with the homework, or something? I know how much your dumbass struggles with linear equations." He mumbles—and your eyes light up at his words

"Nope! I did it all by myself today, Kats! And I think I did good..." You say, lost in thought as he grumbles something under his breath

"What was that?" You say, opening the ziplock bag and taking out an apple slice—you feed it to him, and he chomps down fast—nearly taking your finger off in the process.

"Ah!" You shriek, leaning backwards in your seat as you laugh—oh, he was very cranky about something this morning.

"Seems to me like you don't need me anymore." He states, voice gruff as he continues doing out the math problem in front of him. You blink in surprise, putting his snack down onto the table before you place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"What makes you think that?" You ask, gently rubbing the spot between his shoulder blades and neck as he subconsciously leans into your touch. You always knew where his body ached the most —and your gentle hands always soothed the pain behind his skin that no one else couldn't reach.

"You know why," He sighs, and you shake your head no as he lets out an even louder sigh

"You didn't give me my good morning kiss." He mutters quietly, staring at the ground with furrowed brows as you let out a thoughtful "ah."

"Well, if that's the case..." You start, quickly checking your surroundings to ensure no one was looking—before you pecked his lips as quickly as you possibly could. Katsuki doesn't even have time to blink before you pull away with a laugh, walking back to your seat beside Mina as you send him a playful glance over your shoulder

Unfortunately, you made the mistake of believing your stubborn boyfriend would be satisfied by just that.

He's stomping over to you—and Mina can barely even get out a warning for you to duck from the crazy blonde marching your way before he grabs hold of both of your cheeks and pulls you into a kiss—pressing his mouth hard against yours as you let out a squeal of protest, trying to push him off as his friends laughter echoes through the room.

He pulls away after a few seconds—his lips tilting into a slanted smirk at the flustered look on your face before it disappears as he turns towards his cackling friends. Without another word—Katsuki stomps back to his desk and sits down, continuing his work as if nothing happened while you sit still in your seat, quite literally stunned into silence.

"Hey! That's the first time I've seen him kiss you, Y/n! I didn't know he knew how to love a woman right, but I'm glad to see it!" Kirishima exclaims with a sharp grin and you cover your face with a groan. Bakugo barks out a laugh from across the classroom at his words—at the nerve.

"Of fucking course I know how to love her right, you moron! No one does it better than me, and that's a fact!"

No one disagrees with him. And it's only a few minutes later when he's walking back to you with much calmer steps—muttering a quiet thank you for the apples slices.

Yeah, he was a handful, but there was no doubt that he was all yours.

[xjcjuis]

LAZY DAYS

pairing: billie eilish x reader

synopsis: just me craving soft billie fics "with biting as a love language"

warnings: no pronouns used but female implied ; 'sweet girl'

wordcount: 0.8k

a/n: there isn't enough billie fluff (i need a hug from billie)

"don't go yet, please," you whine, eyes tightly clamped shut as you reach over to grab onto billie. unfortunately, your arm falls short and drops back down onto the covers empty.

forcing your eyelids open and momentarily getting blinded by the light of reality, you discover that she was, in fact, not lying beside you but rather sitting at the foot of your bed. she seems to be on a call, with her phone in hand and over her ear. billie's voice was soft, apparently not sensing that you were up and still careful not to wake you.

"babe?" you call out, sort of whispering. your girlfriend turns to you, smiling slightly and then gesturing to the device in her hand. you nod in understanding, waiting for her to hang up.

however, the way-too-familiar bedroom was running out of interesting stuff to look at, so naturally your gaze returns to billie. it's only been a few minutes, but to you it feels like hours, and her phone call still hasn't finished.

with a huff, you gently shove off the covers slipping down your shoulders as you scoot over to your girlfriend. your arms move on their own, hooking underneath her arms and around her waist as you rest your cheek on her back, smiling.

billie's hand instantly rests upon your own around her. you breathe in, inhaling her scent and feeling her warmth flood into you. the soft material of her t-shirt, the strands of her hair lightly tickling your cheek, the comfort her body brings from the hug.

you remain in that position for a moment before you turn your head to rest your chin upon her shoulder instead, staring at the side of her face as she continues to speak softly.

beautiful, was all you could think as your eyes traced her jaw, her skin, her nose, her lashes. perfect, was all your mind screams as you watch her lips move in conversation, pink and soft and so damn kissable if it weren't for the fact that she had an important call.

you puff out air once more, moving back to stare at her shoulder before biting it gently, with her still in your embrace. she jerks a little but relaxes immediately, your actions already familiar.

the corner of your mouth quirks up, now chomping on her shoulder with your lips over your teeth. proud of your little handiwork (aka the small bite marks on her shirt), you end it with a kiss to the cloth of her shirt before settling with nuzzling your face into her neck.

finally her call ends.

"good morning, my love," billie grins, turning around and basically tackling you back onto the bed. she holds you in her arms below her, her expression as soft as the morning sun peeking through the windows. you let out a small shriek of surprise at her actions, placing a hand delicately on her cheek and reaching up to kiss her right on the corner of her lip.

the smile turns into a pout. "you missed, sweet girl."

"hmm, what?" you tease, admiring the way she seemed to glow.

billie rolls her eyes playfully, leaning in to peck your lips. "tease." she taps your nose lovingly, shifting so that the sun shone straight through and onto your face. your eyes shut in instinct, a soft giggle escaping from you when she brushes her lips over your eyelids, just enough to be considered featherlight kisses.

she sits up abruptly, pulling you up with her so that you sat between her legs and quite stuck in her hold. not that you were complaining.

she peppers kisses along your head as you, once again, take her forearm into your mouth and bite. "i just got off call. i have a day-off today."

you stop your attack before she even finishes her sentence, turning to look up at her with starry eyes. "really?"

"mhm." she hums in confirmation and kisses your nose.

you hastily extract yourself from her and kneel on the mattress before her. "can we go out for breakfast?" your eyes are wide with hope, already placing an order in your mind for pancakes and syrup and hot chocolate and perhaps dessert. billie laughs softly at your excitement.

"of course, my love. on me."

with a squeal, you basically fly off the bed to search for something to wear. billie's laugh intensifies, watching you rummage through the closet before speaking up. "hey, aren't you forgetting something?"

you pause mid-swipe, waddling back over to her still sitting on her bed, and kissing her quickly on the lips. as you move away to resume your search, she stops you by the wrist. "uh-uh. not enough."

this time billie kisses you fully, and... you end up being a little late for breakfast.

[scannainscanrula]

shadowed corners

remmick x reader (18+ mdni)

You're a romance author suffering from insomnia, writer's block, and strange nightmares. Your publisher offers to send you to Maine for a short sabbatical to clear your head. It's a quaint town with charming locals, and a mysterious man running the lighthouse that nobody seems to know much about... [part two here]

author's note: well well here we are again. this is MUCH longer than my other fic and i intend to have at least 3(?) chapters for it, so strap in girlies. no smut just yet yous have to earn it first by sitting through all this fucking exposition. grma enjoy! warnings: horror elements, discussion of animal death, discussion of shark attacks, sexual themes

You sit at your desk in front of an empty document, the cursor blinking at you mockingly. Your eyes are tired and your head feels heavy, and the last time you fell asleep at your desk you had drooled on your keyboard, and you really don’t want to find a place to get it fixed. 

“An old-school computer always helps me when I have writer’s block,” one of your colleagues had told you at a cocktail party when you lamented about your publisher’s insistence on a new concept.

You had a very embarrassing and uncomfortably visible breakdown in her windows-only corner office. You began word-vomiting all over her sleek carbon fibre desk about your writer’s block and insomnia– leaving out the extra embarrassing detail of your recurring sexy nightmares– and she had patted your back and attempted to comfort you with corporate jargon. When the tears started she lowered some blinds and lowered her voice, sitting against the edge of the desk in front of her.

“Look, kid. You’re a hell of a writer, okay? Nothing sells like your stuff. I mean, I don’t get it, but the girls love this… creepy vampire stalker shit.”

Dark romance, you want to correct her, but it’s futile after four years working together. 

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“How about… I give you a company card and you go… rent on the coast somewhere for a few months? We have some contracts to draft because these streaming services are just chomping at the bit for rights to adapt. So you go pack your things and take a break. Get an Ambien prescription, fuck a fisherman, whatever you need to do.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll bankroll it.”

She taps her manicured acrylic nail on the cover of your most recent title, Shadowed Corners. It was a total and complete success, where your first two were mafia romances set in the same universe, SC was a dark romance with a vampire love interest stalking your adorable main character. You love red flags, and Milo was covered in them.  

“You’re a money-printing machine, babe.”

So here you are, not relaxing, not on sleeping pills, and completely unfucked by any hot guys. You press your fingers to your temples and sigh, closing the pages and pushing the circular off button for the computer. You slide back and lean forward, stretching your creaky back. You miss your cozy little setup at home, your comfortable chair and the souped-up gamer style keyboard. You sacrificed comfort hoping it would make you work harder, but you think you’ll just finish this little sabbatical with more lower-back pain than usual. 

You fill your water bottle with the filter in the fridge, admiring the stickers all over it. Among the logo of your publishing house and the ones about writing, you have fanart of your books and quotes from your own characters. Ones you’ve found at book fairs and second-hand stores as well as online. A handful were sent along with fanmail. Your laptop and idea notebook are covered too, because it drove you mad to know people liked your stuff enough to make art out of it. 

You huff and trudge up the stairs, feeling exhausted and dreading the next day. You sit in your bed and look at the sticker of Milo with his signature phrase I’d like to see you stop me, babygirl. 

You turn the bottle away from you as you open the bedside drawer. Inside of it are two options. A scent-proof bag that holds your pipe, grinder, and bud, a vape, and a few edibles. The other is a vibrator. You wonder what the point of this vacation was. You could get high and get off at home in the city. And at least there you could order munchies for delivery after you’d fucked yourself silly thinking about the made-up vampire in your head.

You just shut the drawer, rolling your eyes as you lay back. 

Two hours later, you can’t sleep. You’re “jerking off your ego” as your friends would call it, looking through positive reviews of your last title. You know you have detractors, people who think your work is trash or anti-feminist. It’s a little trashy, but it’s just for fun. And you’ve had your share of shitty boyfriends like any girl your age, you know the difference between right and wrong. God forbid a girl wants a hot vampire to follow her home, you think. 

You sit up and put your phone face down. You need fresh air. You need a walk. So, you bundle up and stick in headphones for a brisk, freezing, 7 PM wintertime mental health walk. The New England air isn’t just cold, it’s thick and wet with the marine layer from the ocean, which you’re a short walk away from. It’s not nice, but it does invigorate you as you follow the path from your little cottage down to the beach. It’s pretty private, tucked away in a little alcove– which you were warned not to enter when the tide is too high. You peek over to see it’s not. So you climb down and skirt around the rocks to walk on the main beach, which is empty. Obviously. The recently released audiobook of one of your peers’ newest titles plays in your ears, narrated by a sultry English man. You should have gone somewhere else for inspiration. You vaguely remember hearing someone at a book release party talk about how inspiring their trip to France was, and another person responded about their time in Ireland. You’ve mostly just met fishermen and townies, and none of these men had the Milo quality about them. 

Milo was inspired by a stunning man you saw while at a nightclub in New York City. You were very, very drunk on espresso martinis, but you saw him and his adorable girlfriend– who also served as your muse for Annmarie, SC’s protagonist– at the bar together. His arm was around her waist in a way that was possessive but romantic, his hand rested over her tummy, and you saw his thumb rubbing circles into her skin lovingly. 

“Oh my God, girl, are you seriously drooling? You are so drunk,” your friend had half-sighed, half-laughed as you wiped a little drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“We have got to get you some dick, queen,” another friend joked.

“I am perfectly fine being single,” you protested.

“Nuh-uh, I read that last book of yours. All work and no dick makes you fucking crazy. How did you come up with that shit anyway?”

“She’s totally sick in the head, that’s how.”

Your back straightens up as you think you hear a voice.

“Miss!”

You pause the book and turn around to see a man jogging behind you, holding something in his hands. You freeze with terror until you realise it’s your notebook he’s holding.

“You dropped this,” he says, handing it over. He stays a nice distance away from you.

He has some sort of Southern accent, not New England. 

And he is very, very attractive. He wears a tight black t-shirt and black athletic shorts. His short hair is semi-dark, and probably reddish from the way it looks in the blue moonlight. He smiles politely at you, his dark eyes are hard to see. There’s a scruff of facial hair on him.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry, I… I woulda tapped your shoulder, but I was worried you’d sock me in the nose if I scared you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Are you uh… you okay? It’s pretty dark out here.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just clearing my head.”

“Right.”

You take a breath and introduce yourself quickly.

“I’m Remmick,” he says.

“So, what are you doing out here, Remmick?”

“Well, I work at that lighthouse. Just takin’ a jog before I head up there.”

“Oh.”

Hot lighthouse worker. That could be a love interest.

“You on vacation? I think I’d remember your face if I’d seen it before.”

Charming lighthouse worker. 

“I’m uh… on a sort of sabbatical.”

“You a doctor or something?”

“God, no. I’m a writer.”

“Yeah?”

The tone and timbre of that yeah have your head spinning. 

“Books or what?”

You nod.

“What kind?”

You hesitate.

“Can I guess?”

“Go for it.”

He thinks for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he does, which makes you flush. 

“Are they scary?”

“Parts of them are scary,” you admit. 

You remembered researching for SC and finding out that a lot of people only have a little over one gallon of blood in their bodies. You felt lightheaded and queasy at the visual of a plastic gallon bottle full of blood.

“But they ain’t all scary, huh?”

“Nope.”

He eyes you and smirks.

“Are they dirty?”

You hesitate and suck in air through clenched teeth.

“Yeah. They’re pretty dirty.”

“You must make good money, huh?”

He chuckles and you shrug.

“I do alright.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Where’re you stayin’?”

You pause and he holds up his hands.

“That probably sounded creepy. I only meant… there’s some nice places, and there’s a Holiday Inn.”

“Well, it’s not the Holiday Inn.”

He looks at the watch on his hand.

“Shit. Well, I gotta get goin’.”

He says your name and your chest fills up with a weird feeling. Half-elation, half-dread.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” you respond.

“Only if you keep walkin’ at night. Boats don’t need a lighthouse in the daytime,” he explains quickly, jogging off toward the beacon.

Hot lighthouse worker who’s charming and funny. Now that could work.

You go home and open the fridge. Time for boxed wine in a mug as you power-write for the next forty-five minutes until your hands cramp up.

You put the notebook down and pull out your favorite pen. You need certainty when you put book ideas down. You write in quick, messy bullet points, only getting down little ideas. You heard that coastal New England towns are famous for gruesome murder. Your instincts take you to the mafia but one glance at your water bottle has you thinking otherwise. SC was such a success, and you’re the vampire girl now. 

So you begin to pen the vague outline of a dark romance with a steamy, stalkery vampire lighthouse worker. A man in thick knit sweaters with a messy beard– that could get messier covered in blood or buried between a writer’s thighs–

You pause and see you’ve written writer on the page. You cringe and scribble that out. You had your humble beginnings with composition notebook self-insert fanfiction as a tween, but you’re a big girl now. And you’re already writing prose over a guy you just met, you really don’t need to make it any weirder. Your mind goes through some humble, wholesome occupations to compliment a love interest like that. Baker? Too cliche. Schoolteacher? Too male gaze. Big city corporate lawyer? Too Hallmark movie.

You tap back of the pen against the page rhythmically and sit up. Investigative journalist. Still technically a writer, but the only things you investigate are late-night Twitter links on a private spam account not even your best friends know about. 

Your pen dashes across the page, scrawling wildly. There’s not even any music playing, just the not-so-distant sound of the ocean, the radiator, and your own hand brushing against the paper. Soon, you’ve filled five pages without realising and that doubles in a blink. Shit! Your hand cramps up and you lift the pen finally, massaging your other thumb into your palm. It’s time for bed now, as three hours have passed and your back is killing you. 

You ascend the stairs again and just go to sleep, hand and wrist sore and content with your productivity.

You wake up surprisingly early the next day, and decide to go into town to get some groceries. Your fridge is looking sparse and the pantries are basically empty. You buy some frozen stuff and some supplies to make coffee. You see the honey is placed on the highest shelf you’ve ever seen and huff. No workers around. You can probably get it on your tiptoes. You strain to reach it and hear a man’s voice.

“Can I help you with that?”

You almost fall dropping to your feet again, and a shooting pain goes up from your heels.

“Ow, shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

It’s a man in a lifeguard’s hoodie with red swim trunks on. Maybe you hit your head and you’re having some sort of insane Baywatch fantasy.

“Yes. Please.”

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know who puts this stuff up there. The lady who owns this place is like, four-eleven.” You laugh at that as he hands you the honey.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m Chris, by the way.”

You give him your name and shake his hand. Fucking hell this guy is strong. 

“Are you visiting?”

“Yeah. For a few months though. I’m working on a book.”

“You write horror?”

“Sorry?”

“Um, Stephen King’s from Maine. I feel like horror writers are always trying to… come out here and get some of that inspiration.”

“I think the inspiration he had was-”

“Cocaine?” he says at the same time as you. He shrugs. “At least you can recognise that. Half the other writers are ready to climb into the sewer.”

“Shit, well there goes my day at the rock quarry,” you joke. 

He laughs at that and you grin. 

“I’m a lifeguard on the beach for the next six hours, if you um… feel like you need some fresh air. Sunlight isn’t really a November specialty.”

“Are people really swimming this time of year?”

“Oh, they are. But so are the great whites, so, I’m mostly on seal watch.”

“Right.”

“I’m in tower Four,” he tells you eagerly. It’s like the words just jump right out of his mouth. “It’s right by the lighthouse. Nobody swims there, so… if you wanna tell me about your book or something… my job is pretty boring.”

“I’ll see you out there, Chris.”

“See you.”

You check out and ride the bike the homeowner left for guests back to the cottage. You feel insane. Maybe you were hospitalized after that breakdown and this is all some elaborate, drugged-up daydream you’re in. You pull out your notebook after the groceries are put away and flip to a new page. You click your pen and write HOT LIFEGUARD at the top of the page. 

A love triangle sounds awesome.

Later on, after you actually manage to type some words on a new, more permanent outline document, your vision drifts out the window. It is actually kind of a nice day, even though it’s overcast and windy. You stand and squeeze your hands together, stretching out. It is time for another brisk walk, this time to Tower Four.

Chris sits up there, slumped in his chair and holding his rescue tube in his lap. His tanned, toned legs are wide as he sits back.

“Would it scare you really bad if I started yelling ‘help’?” you joke, peering up at him from the ground.

He chirps your name, sitting up and sliding his sunglasses on top of his head, pushing back his hair. 

“You made it.”

“I brought you a snack,” you say, handing up the small bag of chocolates.

“Wicked,” he says, taking it from your hand. He swings down like a monkey and sits with his feet dangling off the side of the tower. You share the candies and look out on the water.

“So, you gonna tell me about your book?”

“Yeah, I’m not a horror writer.”

“What do you write?”

You hesitate. You know this song and dance, the divulgence of your career and the weird stares and uncomfortable shifting that follows. It’s ruined all sorts of dates and first impressions. Fuck it. You’re on sabbatical.

“Um… dirty romance books.”

“No shit? Is it like that crazy mafia stuff online?”

“Yeah, it’s exactly that.”

“Killer. You make a lot of money?”

“Enough to stay here and not work for three months.”

“So… you’re not writing a book?”

You shake your head.

“My creative well is completely dry. I came out here for-”

“Don’t even say it.”

“-some inspiration.”

“You are such a liar,” he teases. “You’re just like all those Stephen King wannabes,” he jokes, turning away from you.

You laugh at his silliness. You remain for a while, chatting about life and the town.

“The city is wild. I’m getting used to the silence, I think,” you tell him, having moved to– illegally– sit on the tower with him.

“Is the crime really so crazy out there?”

“Yeah, I mean… most of that is just there’s so many people crammed into such a small place. People go nuts.”

“Damn.”

“No crime here?”

“Not here, no, but um… about twenty miles north there’s this beach town, it’s a complete tourist getaway, but they got rocked by some shark attacks a few years back.”

“Some shark attacks?” you repeat his casual wording, shocked.

“Sorry. That sounded insensitive, it was really scary. That place is on its last legs now.”

“Well, yeah. Who wants to stay at the Jaws resort?”

“Bull shark, probably. The same thing happened in nineteen-sixteen. It was pretty gruesome.”

“Are you fucking with me?” you question him seriously, eyes squinted.

“I’m being serious, look it up.”

“Huh. Shit.” You sit back, eyes wandering to the lighthouse.

“Have you ever met the person who works up there?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking creepy.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“You met him?”

“Mhm. Last night.”

“Remmick? The lighthouse guy? You met him?”

“Yeah…? He was jogging.”

“Fucking weirdo,” Chris mutters. “He’s a complete shut-in.”

“How long has he been here?”

“Couple years? I don’t really know when he got here, he just… was there one day.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, well. We used to have a night lifeguard, and– listen, I can admit having a girl out here on her own was pretty stupid– not that girls are… incapable or something-”

“I get it.”

“Right. And… full disclaimer, this girl really liked shrooms, but she swears up and down that she saw that guy covered in blood and eating a seal.”

“Whoa.”

“I mean, there was a dead seal on the beach, she was right about that.”

“Great white?”

“Oh, for sure. I’m think he was probably just doing that creepy-ass night jogging by the tower when that seal washed up, and… sometimes the sharks don’t fully kill the things-”

You grimace.

“I know, it’s pretty sad. Anyway, probably it was yowling and her fucking shroomed out brain conjured up that pretty picture. But he’s just a weird guy. He’s totally nocturnal. I’ve never seen the guy in the daytime. I’ve probably seen him six times and talked to him like… two, maybe?”

“Jeez.”

“Yeah. Anyways, sorry. That was a lot. I’d just stay away from the guy if you can. I don’t know what his deal is.”

You swiftly change the subject to movies and TV, which is good, because you two seem to share the same interests. Strangely enough, vampires are among them.

“I have sisters, so, I’ve seen Twilight about a hundred times? Maybe more?”

You laugh at that. You see him grinning and you check phone, seeing that two hours have passed.

“Shit. I have got to get back.”

“Right.”

“Thanks for the company. And the advice,” you add, nodding to the lighthouse.

“Um… would you want to grab a drink, tomorrow?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Um… where?”

“It’s called The Weasel. It’s definitely a townie bar, but… the drinks are cheap.”

You are fiending for an espresso martini, and you fear you’ll have to settle for an old reliable at a dive bar. 

“Alright.”

“Cool. Um… eight o’clock sound good?”

“Eight o’clock sounds great.”

“Awesome. See you there.”

“I will see you there.”

Your back hits a tree as you pant, unable to run anymore. Your lungs burn as you gasp for cold night air in a dark, damp forest. You’re barefoot, in a wet nightgown that sticks to your skin and you’re terrified. 

You tremble, feeling the looming presence of something evil and ancient, rising up in front of you. Met with words in a language you don’t understand, a clawed hand grips your jaw. They’re wet and sticky, hot with something you realise is blood. The creature laughs at you cruelly and on the other hand grabs a handful of your nightgown, claws ripping through the fabric as it tears a strip down the center. The hand cups between your legs. It splits your lips carefully– almost reverently– brushing a knuckle between your folds, claws away from your most sensitive skin. You gasp and shiver, hands against the tree. You’re wet, though. Soaking the creature’s hands as it coats your skin in blood. It’s so dark and your vision is blurry with tears, you only see two red spots staring at you, and the glint of pearly fangs as the jaw of the creature opens and lurches forward.

You shoot up and sigh, panting as you try to catch your breath. You’ve been plagued with these “psychosexual night terrors”, as your therapist calls them, since you finished writing SC. Some weeks they’re sparse and other ones you can’t sleep without waking up sticky and horrified. Your cortisol levels are through the roof and your sex drive is in the stratosphere. The running theory is that your frantic writing for the deadline of SC drove you just a little bit crazy, and your panic and arousal from writing about Milo’s sexy antics while your publishing house breathed down your neck combined and manifested as the scary void creature in your nightmares.

You take a cold shower that morphs into an everything shower when you remember your date with Chris. Not a date. Just grabbing a drink. Could be a date.

You feel like a kid again, having a cute summer fling with a boy at sleepaway camp with the distant bitter sweetness of knowing you’ll leave in three months. Except you are an adult woman and if you do fall in love, you could just move here forever. 

But that’s wishful thinking.

You wait at the bar patiently. You’re a punctual girl, your agent adores that about you, so you are a little early. You chat with the bartender. She’s an older woman with a thick Mainer accent. 

“Let me guess-”

“Not a horror writer,” you joke back. 

She laughs at that. Her laugh is creaky but comforting, and you can tell she’s a smoker.

“You look nervous.”

“I’m meeting somebody?”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t say who, because I’m guessing you know everyone.”

“Well, I also know who’s single and who isn’t. If you’re worried he’s married, just give me a name.”

The bar is quiet, some men play pool and a group of vacationing dads drink beers and watch some sports on an outdated television. 

You order another drink as you watch the clock behind the bar tick on.

By eight thirty, you’re sufficiently buzzed. You didn’t even get his phone number to text him.

By nine, you decide you should go home. You thank the bartender and leave her a generous tip. You’ll be too embarrassed to come in here for a while.

You take the bike home, slumping on the sofa in the living room as you kick off your heels. You feel tears pricking at your eyes and rub them away, not caring about your smudged eyeshadow or makeup. You wipe it off in the bathroom and change out of your clothes. You need another walk. Maybe you’ll run into the allegedly very creepy lighthouse man and you’ll get some inspiration. 

“I’ll show you Stephen King wannabe, dickhead,” you mutter to yourself, pulling on your coat and shoving your notebook in your pocket. 

You follow the familiar motions, down the path, out through the alcove, and down the beach. You have some angry music playing this time as you stomp down the beach and pass the lifeguard towers. Shrooms girl better thank her lucky stars she’s off night shift, because you look pissed off right now. You stalk all the way down to tower four and roll your eyes. This is a tantrum. You’re an adult.

“I thought I might see you again,” a voice calls. Remmick is on a ledge above you, leaning on the wooden railing. 

“Can I come up there?”

“I’m not gon’ tell you what to do, sweetheart.”

You try to ignore the fire that lights in you and climb the sand and rock stairs, joining him on the ledge. He sits on a bench and pats the seat next to him.

“I heard a lot about you today, from a couple locals,” you tell him, lying about it.

You get the feeling Chris was being insecure, or maybe Remmick’s stolen one too many girls from him. 

“Yeah, I’m a seal-eating nightwalker, you got me,” he jokes, his hands up in mock surrender.

You exhale through your nose. You wish you could laugh harder.

“I’m just a solitary kinda fella. People here, shit, they tight knit like fishin’ nets. They think everybody’s gotta know everybody’s business. Nobody knows mine, so they’ve been makin’ things up for the past three years.” 

“Sorry I brought it up.”

“Hey, I’d rather you hear it from me.”

He looks at you for a moment and rubs a hand over his knee.

“You look upset.”

“Yeah. I uh…”

You hesitate, and see him lean forward, actively listening.

“It’s stupid.”

He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to speak.

“I got stood up,” you admit.

“For a date?”

“Not exactly. Just drinks.”

He clicks his tongue.

“That’s no good. Must be a pretty dumb guy, to stand you up.”

“Yeah. That was a dickhead move. I’m just hoping it was more of a… ‘oh shit, I totally forgot’ kind of thing.”

He eyes you and you cross your legs.

“Still. You musta gotten all dolled up for it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, I uh… I’m not so much a bar kind of fella, but if you wanna come out here sometimes all dolled up…” he leans in, “I got some good whiskey and two glasses.”

You lean in too, close to him.

“I might take you up on that, Remmick.”

“I gotta get up there,” he murmurs, looking at your lips as he speaks.

“Right.”

He doesn’t move, locked in place for a moment. He seems to shake off the spell and sits back, scrubbing a hand down his face, wiping his mouth. It almost looks like he’s wiping away drool. He stands up.

“You uh, you alright to walk home on your own?”

Words flash in your mind, the scene from SC where Milo promises to stalk Annmarie home, which results in him watching through the window as she touches herself. You’re drunk, you realise, as the neurons in your brain flicker out and blood rushes down your body.

“Yeah, I should be fine.”

“Right.”

He starts to walk away and turns back.

“I mean it. You come up see me sometime.”

“I will.”

You mean that, too.

Remmick thumbs through your notebook. How can you even understand this stuff? Your messy handwriting is charming. He reads through descriptions of vampire lore and fangs and turning that make him chuckle. He thinks of the smell of you, that hot scent of desire and the buzzing of your intoxicated body as you sat together. He’s so fucking cold in Maine, and he hasn’t been touched in years. He imagines you’d be hot to the touch. He knows you’re frustrated, you’ve been dissatisfied with pleasuring yourself. The descriptions of sex scenes have him biting back groans and palming himself through his pants. 

He flips to the final page.

HOT LIFEGUARD

His eyes narrow as he realises who it was that stood you up. He turns the page back over, scanning through your previous writing. 

LIGHTHOUSE VAMPIRE LOVER. CLAIMS TO KILL FOR HER. STALKERY? MILO PART II. LESS TENDER. MORE EVIL.

Oh, you’re fucking crazy. 

He grins, his fangs sliding down.

He can make do with crazy.

You wake up early, painful early. You dress groggily and decide to get some air on the beach before the dickhead lifeguard starts his shift. You’re slightly hungover as you traverse down the path and through the alcove to walk on the beach. 

The light is pale and you have to watch your step for kelp as you walk down. You see something up on the sand, and your heart sinks.

It has to be a seal. It’s not breathing, so you look at the nearest lifeguard tower for the animal control. You dial the number and wait patiently.

“Hello?” a voice that sounds just as groggy as you feel answers.

“Hi, I’m um, I’m on the beach right now and I think there’s a dead seal by the first lifeguard tower.”

“Oh, hell. Sorry, miss. It’s too damn early. Do you see any marks on it?”

“It’s hard to see with the fog. Is it safe to get closer?”

“Seals aren’t half as aggressive as sea lions, miss, so go ahead.”

You step closer, squinting with the fog. It’s absolutely dead, not moving at all. You approach it cautiously, worried about what other creatures might be lurking around.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

This is not a seal.

This is Chris the lifeguard, and he’s missing an arm.

[ryzheling]

sfw, fluff, bicep biting, mention of suggestive themes, loosely based on this, kinda goofy don't take me seriously guys ( ~700 wc )

It’s sitting right there. Right in front of your face.

On any other day it would’ve been easier to hold back, as they’d always be covered and usually out of your sight. But during times like this – particularly in the mornings where the sun is up and high above your head, when no blood is to be spilled and the bed is meant to be occupied by two naked bodies tangled in the sheets together – your impulse is being tested like no other.

Alas, you’re just another human being with desires and itches meant to be scratched.

“Would it be weird if I say I’ve been wanting to bite your arm?”

Nagumo pauses. One of his hands hangs midair above the printed pages full of table lines and empty boxes, his eyes blinking curiously at the numbers as if trying to comprehend what you’d just said.

"Nope." He then turns to you with his head cutely tilted to the side, “Do you think it’d be weird?”

His reply doesn’t surprise you, to say the least, and if anything, you’d expected him to say that much. Though what you didn’t expect was for him to direct the question back to you, causing you to take a second too long to respond.

“Well, I mean…” your eyes drift back to his tattooed arm, cursing at the lack of clothes that he’s sporting. Nagumo’s leisurely sitting back against the headboard, the blankets that you have pulled up to your shoulders pooling around his waist and hiding all the lower part of his body, much to your dismay relief.

Then again, you can’t really blame him because last night was… something.

The little sudoku book is long forgotten on his lap, and the pencil is idly being twirled between his lithe fingers. His lips curve into a smile – always so keen to indulge you – then the next thing you know Nagumo’s already shoving his arm in your face with a low murmur, “Go on.”

(You’re exaggerating. He’s just holding it out closer towards you but what could you possibly do in that situation, really? Lay there and pretend to be normal about it?)

You wanted to do it. God, you really do want to do it. But he’s looking down at you, his big round eyes so soft yet so sharp in the way his gaze is solely focused on every reaction you’re about to offer.

Gritting your teeth, you reach out a hand to smack over his perusing eyes. “Stop looking! You’re the one making this weird now.”

His chipper laugh rolls over you like gentle waves on a morning tide, “Okay, okay! I won’t, I promise.”

(He’s lying, that menace. He’s going to take a peek out of the corner of his eye.)

It takes a few moments for you to eventually be convinced that his sight is directed somewhere else, and when you do, you’re all the more eager to get this over with.

Your hand loosely grips the side of his bicep (the sheer thickness of it sends you down into a little spiral, but you’re not gonna let him know that) before you finally bite down, teeth gently digging over the swirls of dark ink on the firm muscle.

“Ow, ow–”

You immediately pull away, guilty and maybe a little worried. “Shit, sorry! Did that hu–”

“Kidding! You bite like a little kitten, you know? It’s adorable!” Instead of a pained expression, his eye smile and grinning lips greet you.

Your jaw drops for a second before irritation comes over you, resulting in your fist punching him right on the spot where you’d bitten. “I thought you were really hurt, dumbass!”

Chuckling, Nagumo pulls you to lay on his chest and back into his arms like how you were sleeping the night before, like how you were meant to be. “All these muscles would’ve been useless if I couldn’t handle a little chomp from you, sweets. But look, you still managed to leave a mark! Ain’t that fancy, hm?”

“I’m seriously going to bite a chunk of your flesh off one of these days, I swear to god,” you grumble under your breath, nuzzling closer to the heat radiating off his bare chest.

“Yeah? One day for sure, but for now, it’s my turn!”

“What do you– OW, YOU LITTLE –!”

He goes straight for your neck.

©ryzheling. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else!

[fluffy0mallows]

JINX FEST!!!

DAY 3: Prompt Mix

•Oblivious X thought they were dating

•"Right in front of my salad?"

•Late night cooking

Modern AU!!!!

Warnings: Curse words. Shameless flirting (Jinx), A bit of threatening. Fluffy fluff fluff. Hints of smut (just hints, I'm not writing shit)

As per @jinxificada 's request. THIS IS BIRTHDAY THEMED!!!

BIRTHDAY MISHAPS

Vi is fucking sick of this.

"Come on, say 'ahh' "

Following Jinx's request, you opened your mouth, welcoming the spoonful of kiwis she was trying to feed you. It was like this every morning. But unlike every other mornings, Vi was stuck to watch the scene before her unfold

Mostly, she'd be out in the mornings, busying herself in the gym, leaving Caitlyn to tire herself out just staring at you and Jinx. But unfortunately for her, she twisted her ankle in a fight last night, leaving her to stay home and watch you dote on each other like lovers

"Right in front of my salad?"

Ignoring the girl's complaint, Jinx only gently fed you another spoonful, even giving you a big fat kiss on the cheek, leaving you giggling like an idiot. She was always the physically affectionate type, even to her friends. At least that's what you thought

"Will you two stop it?!....Let me enjoy my salad IN PEACE"

"Geez Vi. Did good ol' Kiramman reject your advancement last night?"

Only harshly biting her lip, Vi aggressively chomped on the food on her plate, forcing into her mouth spoon by spoon, until it was empty enough for her to stand up and do the dishes

Yes, she'd much rather go do the dishes, than stick with both your asses. You, who noticed her grumpy state, merely snickered, and gave Jinx a kiss on her cheek as well

"Why, aren't you so sweet to me today?"

"Only cuz' you look extra cute today"

You can hear Vi groaning from the distance, followed by the sound of metal clanking together. You suspect she might've hit her head with a pan, but whatever

"I have somewhere to go. You won't miss me too much, won't ya, sugarbug?"

Scoffing, you only took the bowl of kiwis from her hands, along with the soon, and you gestured for her to get going

"Independent much?. Yeah, that's my girl. Take your dirty clothes back to your house, my washing machine is broken"

"Must be because of all the adjustments you did to the poor thing...."

Standing up from her seat, Jinx gave you a final kiss on the forehead, petting your hair gently. And then she was out the door, probably to go wreak some havoc. Or so you thought

"So....You and Jinx, huh?"

"Hm?....Oh no, we're nothing like that"

Scoffing, Vi proceeded to scrub the plage clean, muttering words to herself. Jinx wasn't out to wreak havoc, she was going to the store, to buy.......certain items for you

And Vi, was forced to fake an ankle injury, to stay home and make sure you had no idea. It was your birthday after all. And much to her misfortune, Jinx tasked her of 'guarding' you to make sure you wouldn't accidentally find out about her fabulous mission

Standing up from your seat, you went over and handed the bowl to Vi, laughing at her displeased face that you're making her wash the dishes in your house. After laughing in her face, literally, you went back to your room to rest up

________

Frantically spamming the car horn, Jinx began yelling curses at the truck driver who was stupidly blocking the damned pathway

"I swear to every hexgate. I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T MOVE THAT TRUCK!"

Grunting in frustration, she slammed her feet on the pedals, and drove quicker than the speed limit. She had to buy those gifts on time, or else the entire surprise would be busted

Jinx had planned a very big surprise, one that would (hopefully) make you blow you mind. She's confident enough (she's not) to pull it off.

The plan was simple. Get you stuck in her house, with Vi taking guard, while Caitlyn and her goons set up your house from the celebration, and Jinx was in charge of course, with the gifts. Caitlyn insisted she handled the food, and since you have taken a liking to rich people dietary, she had reluctantly agreed, for your sake

Jayce and Viktor were coming back in town to join in, after their Science exhibition competition. While Sevika babysits Isha for the time being

The moment you come home, and switch on the lights, everyone was going to yell surprise, and well surprise you. And after mingling with the others, Jinx will take you to a celebration, exclusively for the two of you

"Fucking finally"

Aggressively slamming the car door, Jinx speed walked to the store, already listing out all the things she needed to buy for you. It was a busy week, and although it's a shameful confession, she was unable to make time to prepare for your birthday.

Snacks for your date later, gift wrappers, a fucking candle because the one for your cake was snapped like twig when Maddie put it down. A few candies for Isha as peace offering since she plans on celebrating with only the two of you, Isha herself excluded

Spray paint, she has to decorate your date spot, paint in a can, because her studio ran out, after the art competition she joined a few days ago, and finally, a lollipop for a final touch. She loves them

"That would be 45.09 $, maam"

Handing the woman her card, Jinx bit her lip in anticipation, she watched the cashier, agonizingly swipe it with such slow speed, she nearly choked her. But then, her wild imagination was cut off, when the card she handed out declined. Oh. For. Fucks. Sake

"Oh, sorry, that must be my sister's. Haven't thrown it away yet since she died"

Giving the cashier Vi's card, Jinx backed up her lie by taking the card that was originally hers from the cashier's hands, and longingly stroked it with a sad sigh. The cashier, stupidly enough, bought the story, and swiped Vi's card.

By the love of luck, it worked, and Jinx was able to leave the store with all the necessities in hand. She mentally thanked Caitlyn for keeping that card loaded, even though she would never thank the Piltovan in person

Why did she have Vi's card you ask?. Well that is a story meant for another day

____

"You sure you aren't dating?"

"No, Vi, we're not"

"Cuz' I remember Jinx referring to you as her 'girfriend' "

"Must've been a mistake"

Smiling at Vi, the older woman couldn't help but feel annoyed that you couldn't get the fucking hint. Jinx thinks you're dating!, snap out of it!

The redhead would love to curse you out right now, but she didn't want Jinx to get upset and blame it on Caitlyn again. And bombed her house, again

She remembered there was even a time when Jinx threatened Caitlyn's life, along with her family's if she keeps on visiting Vi's house. Like the two weren't lovers

But because of your hold to Jinx, you easily convinced the girl that Vi is old enough to have people over, and that it's not right to dictate the flow of her older sister's life. Caitlyn was still suspicious to Jinx though, a major red flag

Suddenly, Vi's waki taki beeped, and Maddie's voice could be heard, thankfully you went upstairs to wash up, and didn't hear it. Yes they had waki takis, and yes it was all because of Jinx. Baby girl literally wanted this celebration to be perfect, she went all out just for you

"Vi, the house is ready, but Jinx isn't here yet"

"Must be the traffic. Don't worry, Y/n is taking her precious time, washing up and packing her dirty clothes"

"Copy"

And with that, a static rang, and the conversation was cut off. They sure are taking this surprise seriously. How Vi wishes she could help out, and not just guard you. Hey, she doesn't hate you, but she would love to watch Cait cook, hugging her from behind and everything

"Hey Vi, do you mind calling Jinx?, just wanna ask her something. My phone's dead"

"Sure"

Ringing up Jinx on the phone, Vi handed it to you, and after thanking her, you went back up to Jinx's bedroom. Drumming her fingers on her thigh, Vi thought back about the plan. Her duty, how she's supposed to make sure you wouldn't find out about the secret party, and everything

But wait.....

Wait....

What if Jinx answers and she thinks it's Vi, and then the whole plan gets busted?!

Rushing up the stairs, Vi slammed the door open, only to find you laughing in the call, while brushing your hair in the mirror. It seems Jinx caught up quick and realized it was you, thank goodness

"Yes, I found it......Alright, bye. Mhm. I'll give the phone back to Vi now"

Turning to the door, you were shocked when you saw Vi, standing there like a creep. Giving the phone back to Vi, she gave you a curt nod before closing the door, gently this time. It was a puzzle to Vi, how you did not hear her slam it open, but hey, saved her the trouble

"I'm done packing up, I gotta go now. See ya Vi"

In a surge of panic, Vi yelped, holding your wrist tightly between her fingers. She can't let you leave, that destroys the whole celebration. She has to keep you here until Jinx says so

"You........can't leave"

"Uhm why?. I already cleaned up, don't worry"

"No, uh. It's uhmm...Jinx told me she wanted you to uhm...To..."

"To what, Vi?"

"To...... replace the sheets...?"

"Uhm, excuse me?"

"Replace the sheets in her room....cuz you made a mess out of it"

Burning red, you stuttered out words, before rushing back upstairs to Jinx's bedroom. The fact that you immediately left without question, made Vi's face burn up as well. Jinx. Former Powder. Her baby sister....?

HER BABY SISTER ALREADY BANGED SOMEONE!!!

Now Vi doesn't know whether or not she should be proud. Jinx is an adult. And she can decide what she does. But it was weird to think that her baby sister is no longer innocent. How she misses the oh so ignorant baby Powder

She could hear you shuffling from Jinx's bedroom upstairs, and that made Vi panic. What if you finish way too early?, she's gonna have to think of something else to stall you.

____

Jinx sped up, and drove to your house. Seeing as the Piltover sheriff's car is still parked outside, she can only assume they haven't finished yet. But as she opened the door, she could see Caitlyn admiring the place, with Maddie on her side.

"How's it goin'?"

Turning to face the blue haired girl, Caitlyn smiled and straightened her back. She always did have thus mannerism where she fixes up immediately when addressed

"Everything is ready. Here, I'll help you wrap those—"

"No. If you're finished, get out and assist Vi"

At her resistance, Caitlyn could only sigh. Gesturing for Maddie, the two left, leaving Jinx to frown at the too-neat arrangement they did.

Well good thing she brought paint right?. Time to jinxify this awful place

Bringing out the stuff she bought, Jinx smirked at cans of paint she brought out of her pockets. Yes she shoplifted, and don't act like you've never done it before. She did it to save money. Vi's money

"Ugh. Those Pilties seriously lack taste!"

And with that, the whole house was smeared in neon paint, glitter, and a few charms she made out of scrap. But don't worry, she made sure not to stain anything, she merely blotched paint on the ridiculous gold decor Caitlyn put up

Putting the waki tali close to her lips, Jinx couldn't help but smirk. It wasn't a cocky kind of smirk, it was excited, but nervous. This whole plan was making her nervous

"Get the guests in, we're done here"

________

"Uhm. Why exactly do we need to rush back to my house, Vi?"

"We're not rushing...uhh....My friends are gonna come over at Jinx's for a gamenight. Thought I'd bring you home first before they barge in"

"Oh, okay"

Adjusting your seatbelt, you watched Vi literally stutter the key into the keyhole to start the car. What was making her so nervous?

"Uhm....Are you okay?"

"Yeah!. Yeah, just....."

Finally fitting the key, Vi started the car, stepping on the gas with rush. Jinx was fucking mad, way too excited to wait for Vi. And the blue haired girl threatened that she will plant drugs in Caitlyn's manor and tip to the cops if they didn't get there quick

She wasn't scared of Jinx. She was scared of Caitlyn, and the fact that it has been months since the two blue heads last fought. Vi was relieved then, but now she had to give everything in her soul to keep that constant

"Stupid fucking traffic..."

After nearly half an hour of honking out her road rage, Vi was finally able to pull up by your garage. No cars on sight, to not raise suspicion that here were people in your home boutta scare the fuck out of you

"Go on inside. I'll carry your stuff"

Only giving her a puzzled side eye, you went to your door, opening it with the keys, and kicking your shoes off and setting them aside.

As you approached the light switch, you swore you heard shushing sounds, but you brushed it off, and reached for the switch instead. Flicking it up, you were surprised when a synchronous shout of 'Happy Birthday!' was heard. Along with the pop of the confetti bombs that rung in the air

"Oh fuck—!......You guys scared me!!"

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of a birthday cake being held by none other than Jinx herself. She was smiling ear to ear, almost more excited than you were

Everyone was here. Caitlyn, the Maddie bitch who bullied you in highschool but eventually reconciled with, Jayce and his beloved partner, Viktor. Claggor, Mylo, Silco who looked like he worked for 24 hours, Vander who had an arm hooked around Silco's shoulders. Isha, Sevika, Mel, Lest. Literally everyone

Isha walked up to you first, with a shy smile, and a messily wrapped purple gift in her small hands. Thanking the little sweetheart, you crouched down and kissed her forehead, to which she hugged you with a happy hum

Sevika gave you a nod with a small smile, you two learned to get along before she had with Jinx, and that really helped out their relationship a big lot. Mel greeted you elegantly, handing you a neat gift with golden wrapper. Silco weirdly enough told you he gave you his 'blessing', but you smiled and thanked him anyway despite not knowing what he meant

Vander told you the same thing too, even shaking your hand like a proud dad. Jayce and Viktor handed you a gift that was supposedly made by the two of them, specifically for you. Claggor gave you a stapled paper bag, and apologised that he couldn't wrap it properly since he didn't know how. But the thought enough was sweet

Mylo, much like Vander, weirdly told you he gives you his blessing, and handed you a circular brooch that held the words; Y/n Lane. It was their family surname, and that made you laugh

"Mylo, I'm not your sister!"

"You're my sister-in-law though"

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that"

"Nothing!, you should go to Jinx now. She looks pretty lonely"

Confused, your eyes searched for Jinx. And there she was, still holding the cake in her hands, with her eyes lingering on you. Giggling, you ran up to her, making her Yelp and hold the cake with one hand, while the other held your waist in a hug

"Woah!, easy there, bunny!. You're gonna smash your own cake!"

Giving her a shameless kiss on the cheek, you hugged her again. Jinx only smiled, placing her hand higher up, til it reached the back of your head, and stroked your hair. Everything went according to plan. Good

"Alright, Y/n. Let's blow out those candles!"

________

After eating together, the others left, but Vi and Isha slept in. It was midnight now, you and Jinx were comfortably situated in the kitchen, giggling like idiots while you tried to follow the instructions on a cookbook on how to make pizza

Jinx's face was covered in flour, and yours were covered in tomato sauce. After fooling around for a bit, you were now seated on the kitchen top, while Jinx leaned on the sink across from you.

"Should I open it now?"

"I mean, if you opened it tomorrow, it wouldn't have been a birthday gift anymore, right?"

Taking her point, you slowly unwrapped the gift that Isha had given you. It had too much tape on some sides, but none on the others. You suspected Sevika must've helped her wrap it, being the gentle one-handed aunt she was

Gasping, you were met with a framed drawing of Isha, you and Jinx holding hands. It was drawn with crayons, and it had details too. Grass, trees, butterflies, and oddly shaped flowers too. And above each drawing of a person, she wrote names.

Isha, Mom, and Mama

So cute. But it made you think, since she believed you were her mama, did that mean?. Nah, it can't be, Jinx clearly isn't interested in stuff like that. She was just flirty, and touchy, but that's it

"She thinks I'm her mama. And you too. We're her mom's now?"

Laughing it off, you were silenced when Jinx looked at you like you had said something absurd

"Aren't we?"

"What?"

"Aren't we technically her moms?"

"We'd have to be together, Jinx"

"But we are...."

Puzzled, you parted your lips to speak, but nothing came out. What does she mean? You were together?. Since when?

"Since when..?"

"What?"

"Jinx, we're not together.....You never asked me"

"But we hug, and kiss!, fuck, we even sleep on the same bed sometimes!"

"Yeah, but we don't say 'I love you', or kiss on the lips!...Besides you never asked me"

"I thought.... I though it was us"

"Well.....haha..uhm...that's awkward"

Scratching your neck awkwardly, you avoided eye contact with Jinx. She looked upset. You didn't mean to make her upset, it's just that she had never asked you

"I think...I think I should head to bed now"

"Wait!....Before that...I have something to show you"

Finally looking at her, you watched her walk stiffly to the door, before looking at you and beckoning for you to follow her. Deciding to screw it all, you did, and she opened her car door for you, straight on the front seat

Getting in herself, Jinx didn't say a word, she just drove. And after a few minutes of awkwardly pretending that you were interested in the window, she finally came to stop, and got out to open the door for you

"Close your eyes. It's a surprise"

Jinx held her hand out for you to hold, but what caught your attention the most was the tender smile laying on her lips. Like you hadn't technically just rejected her earlier.

Taking her hand in yours, you squeezed it, and got out, closing your eyes like she told you. You felt Jinx guide you, until your feet made shuffling noises on the floor like you were walking on plants. She also constantly changed you direction, like she was avoiding trees. Where on Earth were you two going?

"Alright, we're here. Keep your eyes closed until I say so, Kay?"

With her words, you felt her touch on you leave, and her footsteps faded in the distance, but it was still there.

"Alright, open up!"

Opening your eyes, you had barely made them adjust in the dark, before a lever was pulled and lights burned bright. That's where you saw it, the old amusement park where you had first met Jinx. Unfortunately it was closed off after a while, and was abandoned in the forest

But now here it was, whirring with life, like it did back then. Jinx walked back to you, and linked your arms together, smiling at the awestruck expression on your face.

"So... Which ride we going on first?"

After two hours of filing around the system of the park, you and Jinx took the best for last. The ferris wheel. It wasn't fancy, and it didn't have roives like the ones in the big parks. But it was high enough to reach the top of the trees

"Trust me, the sunrise is gonna look awesome"

Giggling along with her, you placed your head on her shoulder. She didn't even tense up, didn't even flinch away

"You know....We can be together. If you ask me"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

Looking at the sun in the distance, you waited for Jinx to respond. But she was silent, like she was thinking about something, contemplating something

"If I ask you now, would you say yes?"

"Only if you ask me"

Humming, Jinx held up your chin, and tilted it to make you look at her. She was so close. If you leaned in now, you could kiss her

"Then....Wanna be my girlfriend?"

"I'd love to"

P

Placing your lips on hers, you felt Jinx let out a satisfied sigh against your lips, before she pushed back, and deepened the kiss. You were expecting it to be brief, and shy. But Jinx is anything but shy, instead, she placed hand in the back of your head and pulled you closer, damn near burying her tongue in your throat

Your precious moment was then cut off, when Jinx's phone rang. Pulling away, she cursed and smiled at you apologetically, to which you told her that was okay. Answering the call, you held her hand while her other held the phone by her ear

"What, Vi?"

And loudly, you heard Vi yell at the call...

"YOU LEFT THE DAMN OVEN ON!"

Wassup everyone!, Mallow returns!!. Anyway, Happy Birthday @jinxificada , and I wanna thank you for this fest. THIS MADE MY MONTH I SWEAR. Hope you like it! I made it too cheesy for me to read, so I hope it turns out good!

Mallow out!!

[thedivinetexts]

uhh. sorta brat tamer!price punishing reader for flirting with ghost? overstim, daddy kink, afab terminology. he calls you his good girl a few times

- 🐰 -

you act like you don't understand why he's doing this to you.

price has you on your elbows and knees — well, knees. your arms gave out after the last orgasm, leaving you to claw at the sheets for any shred of stability. you're still recovering from it, breaths coming out as gasping little things in between the whimpers and whines. the pads of his thick fingers continue to circle your clit, unrelenting even after wringing three orgasms from you so far.

your hips try to jolt away from his touch, his rough callouses just on the wrong side of too much, but price's other hand is firm on your hip. you won't be able to escape him unless he lets you.

"j-john," you keen, voice warbling pathetically, "please, it's - it's too much -!"

your complaint melts into a little squeal as he stops circling your clit, only to pinch it between his thick digits. he coos darkly at your shaking.

"shhshh, darlin', you can take it." he says. his voice is sickly sweet, a condescending comfort. "this is your punishment, sweet'eart. you can be a good girl for me and take it, right?"

you shake your head in an almost frantic manner, absolutely sure that you can't. he murmurs some more sweet nothings at the almost sobbed protests that spill from you. he wouldn't be surprised if you are crying, honestly. 'specially when he starts up again; light and quick, this time.

"no? love, you deserve this, remember?" price reminds you, voice a low rumble. he keeps a careful eye on the trembling of your thighs, ready to support you himself if he's gotta. ready to pull away, if you're really spent enough to call it. "you spent all evening hangin' off Simon, did'ya think I was gonna let that slide? you're mine, love. I'm jus' remindin' you."

"sorry — I'm s-sorry — please, please," you immediately start to gasp. he thinks it's adorable how quickly you start begging for his mercy once you remember what you're being punished for.

"theeeere you go," he groans. your mewling apologies and pleading is like music to his ears. "Sing fo' me, lovie."

hangin' off ghost, honestly. like the man wouldn't notice a pretty young thing like you watching him the whole night at the bar. like he wouldn't be chomping at the bit to get a piece of you, if you got too close.

price expects you to behave around his lads; you know they're ravenous dogs, waiting for his scraps. it's price who decides when to share what's on his plate though, not you. what morsel has a say in who gets to eat them?

"have ya learned your lesson, sweet'eart?" price asks in the same condescending tone as before. you're too far to care about the slightly mean note to his words, other than the fact it makes you clench around nothing. price chuckles when he sees it. "yeah, baby? ready to be a good girl for daddy?"

you nod jerkily, and price clicks his tongue at you. you know better — he needs words outta you, not just empty-headed gestures. in the meantime, his fingers continue to stroke your sensitive clit, making your hips jump in his hand. it is a punishment, after all.

"i'll be good," you sob the promise. even though it stings, you can't help but rock back onto his fingers, desperate for more. for something more filling. "john - ah, daddy, please, i need your cock, please!"

his fingers are off you in a flash. you almost collapse, relief and disappointment at the lack of stimulation mixing into neediness. you don't have to wait more than a moment before price is flipping you around. muscles flexing, clearly not breaking a sweat as he manhandles you onto your back. he parts your legs, not that you make an effort to shut them. you're too worn out to fight, even if you wanted. you don't, though. he can see the want in your eyes.

"there's my good girl," price groans, reaching between your legs again to prod your puffy lips apart. you whine half-heartedly at him, and he pays it no mind. too busy reaching into his trousers to free his aching cock. it looks an angry red after being neglected for your punishment. he groans, low and deep, as he slides the tip through your folds with almost no resistance. "didn't even have'ta tell you to beg for it. you're so wet f'r me, aren't ya, love?"

"please," you whimper. you feel almost like a broken record, but price clearly enjoys it, the way his eyes somehow go a shade darker.

"alrigh', sweet girl, i got you. i know what'cha need."

price could tease you longer, but he's got a soft spot for you. how can he say no to those tears streaking down your cheeks, especially when you don't even seem to notice them. you took his punishment — it'll be another week or two before you start flirting with one of his boys again. for now he'll give you what you want.

he pushes into you in one fluid movement thanks to the slickness of your cunt. it knocks the wind out of your lungs, head craned backwards and eyes fluttering. the both of you moan in unison; his a low timber and yours a high gasp. you rock against him as soon as he's hilted in you — desperate for another release, this time around his cock. as it ought to be.

for a moment price watches you fuck yourself using his cock with half-lidded eyes, reveling in your enthusiasm. depravity, maybe. whichever it is, he enjoys the view.

then he snaps his hips forwards. you choke on a moan, hands flitting between clawing at the sheets and clawing at his arms. price sets a quick pace; he knows you've got to be exhausted by now. as much as he'd love to spend another hour or eight fucking into your wet, warm heat, he can tell you won't last. already you're clenching down around him, chanting ah ah ahs that has him growling back.

"jus' like tha'," he groans, dropping his head to bury against your neck. your arms wrap around his chest, nails pulling at hair just the way he likes. he might not last either at this rate. he can feel the vibrations of your voice as he plants kisses along your neck — you sound gorgeous. broken.

he shifts his hips, fucking up where he knows your sensitive spot is, and listens to you wail. price nips at your jugular and pounds at the spot. your hands scrabble against his back and he lifts his eyes just in time to see yours roll back. he didn't think you could get any tighter but you do — always making daddy proud, the way you surprise him. he groans again as you come around him, his own thrusts stuttering from their previous machine-like pace. it only takes a few more whimpers from you before he's spilling deep inside. he fucks the both of you through it slowly, before he finally relaxes on top of you.

the two of you lay panting for a few minutes, basking in your afterglow. he gathers you close and presses a kiss to your forehead. chuckles when you pull away, whining petulantly at the beard scratching at you.

"tha's my good lass," he murmurs. "go to sleep, love. i'll clean ya up."

[musetheapothecary]

good girl

itoshi rin x fem!reader

Sleep-stuck eyes and jaw cracked wide around an endless stream of yawns, snatches of muffled music from a pair of headphones forgotten in the folds of an over-large hoodie. It’s dark out, the world still and silent and chilled, and the transition from star-studded shadow to pale fluorescents is blinding. She buries her face into his shoulder with a grumble, fingers slipping through his as he taps both their passes against the sensor. 

She’s led, blind and stumbling, through the stark grey reception and deposited outside the women’s changing rooms. Warm fingers tuck tangles of hair behind her ears and cradle her night-cold cheeks.

“Put your stuff away,” Rin instructs lowly. “I’ll meet you back here in five.”

She hums and nuzzles into his palm, wondering how he’s always so warm. She presses a kiss to the fluttering pulse at his wrist before letting him slip away. She half-falls through the changing room door and shuffles towards the lockers, stowing her bag and shucking off her tracksuit pants and hoodie. Her trainers get caught and she groans miserably before kicking those off as well. She’s glad no one is there to see her struggle–it’s beyond early, and the rest of the gym’s patrons are sensible enough to use the night for its intended purpose. Sleep. She lets out a mournful noise.

It’d been especially difficult pulling herself from bed this morning, given that Rin had stayed over the night before. She’d been blissfully cocooned in warmth, nuzzled up against his throat, when his blasted alarm had gone off. She’d begged for a rest day, tried every trick in the book; pleading, bargaining, seduction. 

But Itoshi Rin is not a man who is easily swayed. She loves his dedication, adores his perseverance, and thinks the borderline religious way he takes care of his body and mind is impossibly attractive.

Just not when he drags her into it.

There’s a knock at the changing room door.

“Coming,” she calls, voice hoarse from lack of use.

The gym’s air conditioning sucks the moisture from the room and sends shivers skittering up her spine, she hurries to the door and wraps herself around Rin between one step and the next. He grunts, but accepts the weight of her body with a not-quite laugh, steering them both towards the mats to begin their warmup. 

“You’re such a leech,” he mutters, fondness and exasperation all balled up in one. She gasps but doesn’t release him, merely chomps down on his arm in retaliation and peers up to see red creep out from under the collar of his tank top and up towards his neck. “What are you doing? We’re in public.”

She bites down harder, just for a moment, and grins at the strangled noise that escapes him. “Gym’s empty, hotshot. And you called me a leech, so I’m going to act like one.”

He wraps a hand around the back of her neck, fingers pressed to her rabbit-quick pulse, scruffing her like a misbehaving kitten. She doesn’t feel tired, not anymore. 

He dips his head down to be level with hers, voice low and syrupy.  “If I call you a good girl will you act like one of those, too?”

She freezes in his grip, vision turned to pin-prick points until all she can see is the electric blue of his lidded gaze. Her head feels foggy, thoughts melting like molasses out of her ears.

Rin huffs a laugh through his nose and releases her, tucking his hands in his pockets as he continues on towards the mats.

Her jaw works, trying and failing to form words, before she stumbles after him with a whine. “That’s not fair.”

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Imagine…

BAU!reader being married to Hotch but keeping her maiden name in the field to avoid assumptions and judgment. The team knows, obviously, but then a former colleague of Aaron’s from the Seattle office happens to be in town for a conference and wants to catch up over a drink. You can’t help but tease him, of course:

“Knock, knock,” you murmur, leaning against the doorway to your husband’s office. With a glance at your watch, you ask, “Y’gonna be late for your date?”

Aaron looks up at you with a frown before returning his attention to his case file and mumbling, “Not a date.”

“Mm, my apologies,” you respond with a twitch of your lips as you approach his desk. You lean your elbows on the dark wood and rest your chin in your open hands. Batting your eyelashes, you amend, “It’s a meeting betwixt old coworkers.”

Aaron rises from his chair, pressing his fists against the desk opposite you and positively towering over your smaller stature. He meets your fiery gaze with equal defiance, then leans forward to press a kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Are you our resident Reid while he’s with his mom? Who says ‘betwixt’?”

“Oh, shut up, nerd,” you taunt back between kisses of your own. “You collected coins; I played Scrabble. Now get going! Can’t leave a lady waiting for the Aaron Hotchner.”

—————

But WAIT! There’s more! Said agent gets a call while they’re out for a drink and asks Aaron and the BAU for help on a new case. Naturally, you all have to fly to Seattle together…

“Mama, you know this cabin is pressurized, right?” Derek teases with a nudge of your shoulder.

You mumble back around a sip of coffee, “Yeah, so?”

“So if you glare any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole through the jet and we’re all gonna die up here.”

Emily snorts out a laugh and you steal a Cheeto from JJ’s snack (for which you’re met with a stern, “Hey!”) to throw at her. Emily collects the offensive projectile from her lap and pops it into her mouth with a ferocious chomp in your direction, receiving an, “Oh, bite me, Prentiss,” in response.

“Just find a way to slip in that you’re married,” JJ counsels, moving the bag out of your reach to avoid further retaliation.

“Or accidentally fall into his lap. Turbulence can be nasty, you know,” Emily offers as a follow up.

“Like that?” you deadpan, jutting your chin toward the scene at the back of the jet. Aaron and Agent Brandt are over by the coffee, and she’s just steadied herself using your husband’s broad shoulder.

“Or,” Derek counteroffers, tugging at the chain around your neck that holds your wedding and engagement rings while you’re out in the field, “put this rock on and go claim your man!”

“This is dumb. I’m being dumb,” you grumble, flipping open the case file and burying your head in it. “Can we get back to talking about this sociopath and not my high school-esque jealousy?”

“What’s happening? Did I miss anything?” Garcia’s blonde curls bounce up on the monitor before your group, ready for the next installment of this evidently riveting saga.

“Nothing is happening, Pen,” you respond with a sharp look her way, “and y’all need to get out more. Watch a romcom or something if you need some angst.”

“You all completely suck,” Penelope sighs dramatically. “My cup runneth empty in my lair!”

“Then go get yourself another cappuccino, baby girl,” Derek answers smoothly with that dazzling smile of his, perched on the armrest of your seat.

You feel his presence before you hear his voice, every atom in your body suddenly on high alert and keenly aware of everything that is Aaron. “Hey.”

You look up at him with an easy smile, determined to not let your unwarranted bitterness reflect on your work. “What’s up, Hotch?”

He squats down in the aisle beside you so he’s not looming over you and brushes his knuckles across your cheek in an uncharacteristically tender touch, given your current audience. “Do you have that travel bottle of Advil? Brandt may have been overzealous with the margaritas last night.”

“Yeah, it’s… in the side pocket of my bag,” you answer, brow furrowed because he tossed it in there this morning to ward off your inevitable headaches during the coming late nights.

“You’re the best, honey,” he murmurs, standing halfway to press a kiss to your forehead before returning to his full height and going off in search of the pain killer.

“‘Overzealous with the margaritas’, huh?” Emily teases, then starts singing the viral song about just how many margaritas are needed to perform certain acts that shan’t be discussed in polite company.

From across the plane, Dave glances at Aaron who’s rummaging through the overhead luggage bin, then turns his attention to you with a knowing gaze. You avert your eyes, feeling a blush creeping across your cheeks, and settle back in your seat before flipping through the case file in front of you. “So crime scene photos would suggest we’re dealing with a disorganized killer…”

—————

But WAIT! There’s even more!

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Here's one more mermaid Princess Stan, to go full circle (also horse stan had me wheezing so hard i couldn't focus on princess stan without picturing all the knights horses as shermie and wheezing again)

It was dangerous to swim near the surface of the water, which meant Stan did it more often than he liked. His red and gold tail and fins were terrible camouflage, but it was better than sticking to the depths and getting jumped by other mers.

Life was hard without a pod after all, and he'd been on his own long enough to know how to survive by taking the highest risk. Plus it wasn't too bad, seeing the sun shine down through the waves. Stan swam lazily, keeping an eye out for any boats or other mers who were lost and feeling cocky, or even something to eat. Most pods around here should be sticking to the depths this close to shore, meaning he should be in the clear.

What he wasn't looking at was the sky above him. Nothing large enough to eat mers existed anymore, meaning when a giant claw slammed through the wave above him, curled around his waist, dug its talons into Stan's side and pulled, he didn't have enough time to scream as he was jerked out of the sea.

Then Stan was gasping for water, tail flopping and hands slamming at the claw clutching him tight. The ocean below got farther and farther, and his heart started beating wildly in his chest at how high he was, how far away from safety.

The wind was cold against his wet skin, blowing past him and whipping around his head. The scaly thing holding him beat its wings, making the ocean blur and launching them even higher. He had no idea what this thing was or wear it came from, but when it twisted its long neck to look back at him writhing in its grip it looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see it. Like it wasn't the one that snatched him out of the water and probably planned to eat him, based on all the sharp teeth he could see.

Stan wheezed, vision going fuzzy from lack of water, before the wind picked up, and he was suddenly dunked back into the ocean. Stan gasped, coughing and blinking at the blue around him, before he realized the claw was still around him, and the thing that had grabbed him was dragging him through the choppy waves as it flew wherever it was going.

Stan yelled, then pushed against the claw and tried to wiggle out of its hold. He sputtered as it lifted him out of the waves, then slammed him back down, flight awkward as it tried to keep him under while it flew. Its grip tightened as his tail fin slammed against it, his struggling useless as he was slammed in and out of the ocean over and over, making him dizzy.

Eventually it slowed down, and Stan flinched as its other legs burst into the water around him. A quick look showed they were near the shore, the scaly thing walking closer to what looked like docks and dragging Stan with him.

Stan pushed at the claw harder, thrashing as much as he could, when it stopped near several poles and boats bobbing above him. One of the claws next to him disappeared as it stood on its back legs and grabbed one of the smaller boats, then tipped it so everything inside splashed into the water and drifted down, just out of reach. Stan eyed all the shiny things and netting, wishing the thing would either let him go or take a bite so he didn't have to see his life flashing behind his eyes so many times in a row.

Then he was pulled up, and he regretted his thoughts instantly. He was too young to die, had too many things he'd wanted to do, too many tasks left unfinished.

He still hadn't been able to find Ford, even after all these years.

Thrashing and bracing himself to be pulled up and chomped on, he was surprised to instead be lifted out of the water, then dropped into the boat the scaly thing had emptied of all its human goodies. It had filled the thing with water, so now Stan was in a tiny wooden bowl, the bottom of his tail sticking out the side and wooden seats uncomfortable against his back.

"Wha-" Stan started to say, before screaming when two of its claws moved to grip either side of the boat and it took off back into the air. One claw moved to cover him so he couldn't flop out, and he was pressed down into the bottom as water sloshed out the sides and his tail fin dragged in the air. He couldn't see anything other than the sides and the scaly things golden chest as it flew off with him, and his hands continued to do nothing when he tried to shove it off of him.

The lack of view made the entire thing terrifying, as the scaly thing would jerk sideways and lurch up and down, all the while the water level grew lower and lower, until there was barely enough to cover Stan's gills and his tail was starting to dry out from all the air dragging past him freezing him solid.

Thankfully it came to an end before he started suffocating again, the beast thumbing down onto the ground so hard the remaining water was flung in the air and Stan was pushing himself down so he could keep his gill in it. The claw disappeared, leaving Stan looking out at a distance greyish glowing sky/maybe ceiling. He was tempted to sit up and look around, but there was no telling if him moving would lower the water level any more, and he wasn't ready to die just yet if he could help it.

He could hear the thing thumping around, something clanking and clattering, the splash of water (which, good. Water meant the Sea which meant freedom) and the sound of something heavy being set down next to him. Before he could tempt himself with a peek the beast was leaning over him, giant head eyeing his squished position in a way he didn't like. One of its claws came up and gently stroked his tail, making him shudder at the contact. It reached in and tapped his sides, poking the area's it had bruised when it grabbed him, then crooned when Stan pushed himself down further, making himself almost flat against the bottom, water just above his nose.

It stroked his tail one more time, then picked up the boat. Stan took a deep breath, ready to try and make a break for it, when it tilted him over and shook him. He saw one glimpse of water and let go, splashing down and taking a deep breath. His relief was short lived, as he realized he'd been dropped in a wooden box that was only slightly larger than the boat, meaning part of his tail was still poking out the side, and he was being shoved uncomfortably into the corner by the weight of the rest of him. He wiggled and turned around, bending his tail almost in half so it would ft. The position meant his head was poking out of the water, and so was the tip of his tail fin, but it was better than half of him drying out completely. The scaly thing was gone by the time he got himself settled, and he looked around to see if he could find the water source before it got back.

Instead his jaw dropped at all the shiny stuff he saw, spread out before him and going endlessly in the distance. It glimmered in the light from above, spotted with color that shimmered in giant waves. It was more shininess than he'd ever seen in his life, just laying around, not a human in sight.

More importantly there was water nearby. It was blood red and made him grimace at the potential metallic taste, but it'd have to do. He eyed the distance between him and the shore, then grimaced harder. It wasn't a short one, and the boat was in between, blocking the way. The moment he got out he'd be flopping around, and the obstacle would just as likely kill him as provide a potential relief if there was any water left at the bottom.

Before he could make a decision the ground shook, and the scaly thing was back holding something just out of sight. Stan couldn't sit up or angle his head to see what it was doing, the top of the box blocking his view, so he wiggled in agitation until he couldn't help it anymore.

"Hey-"

The scaly thing let out a high pitched sound, then turned and shoved its head right in front of Stan's squished form. Stan shrunk back, pushing himself as far down as he could go as it trilled at him, then turned and went back to making a lot of loud clinking sounds and doing whatever it was doing. Stan pushed himself down and held his tail, trying not to think of what it wanted or what is was going to do to him.

He'd seen human fisherman on the shore, putting fish into bright stuff before eating it. Maybe it wanted to do the same to him.

The ground shook again, and Stan peeked over to see the dragon with another box. It was scooping up red water and running back out of view with it, then dumping it somewhere else. Stan listened to it for a while, relaxing.

OK. So it was probably filling up water for him. That was... not good, but better then being eaten immediately. He'd heard tales of mermaids getting snatched by sailors and shown off at human houses, and it had liked his tail. Maybe it just wanted to admire it for a while, then let him go.

Or eat him, but he was pretty sure he could charm it into not doing that given enough time.

He had no idea how long he sat in the small box, tail cramping and back starting to hurt from being curled up, when the scaly thing came back and picked up the box he was in. Stan threw his hands out to catch his balance, then held his breath as it walked a little ways away and tilted the box, shaking it again.

Stan saw more water, and didn't hesitate to flop down, sighing in relief when he could stretch out his full length. He bent backwards to stretch his back out, then screeched and flung himself to the side when one of its claws splashed in after him. He hit something hard and invisible, and the claw followed him, squishing him into the invisible wall, before stroking his tail a few times and pulling out. Stan breathed heavily, then twitiched when he realized he was swimming directly in front of the beast.

In fact, looking around, he was floating in water that was somehow not spilling out all over the room, held up by four invisible walls. Stan poked at one, then swam back when the scaly thing poked the wall on the otherside. It sent a sharp noise through the water, and Stan clamped his hands over his ear fins and hissed, tail swishing in agitation. The beast let out a low croon, and Stan yelled when it started curling around the invisible box.

The box was just big enough for him to lay down in both directions, and tall enough he could stretch from tail to fingers and still have extra room. The beast had put something on top of the invisible box, and another, smaller box with a tube had bubbles shooting out of it.

Stan froze in the middle as the scaly thing made itself comfortable, scales on all sides and head set in front of Stan. Then it sat there, watching him. Stan brought his hands together and swam backwards, then flinched when it made a rumbling noise that shook the water.

Hopefully it'd get tired of looking at his tail sooner rather than later, and Stan would get dumped back in the ocean back where it found him

(Then they stare at each other before Fiddleford pops up and sees the tiny giant aquarium with Stan swimming in the middle sort of terrified. Not sure if there a reverse mer bracelet or if Fidds gets him a water tank on wheels.)

[gladiatorcunt]

- UNDEAD UNEARTHED !!

you’re too sweet for me

cw: 18+ mdni, goth reader, reader is lowkey mean but not really on purpose, mentions of reader wearing makeup & a skirt, dubcon due to alcohol use and taking advantage of a vulnerable person, ambiguous intentions/ending, reader has a pussy, friends!pope & reader, one line of vomit kink & puppy reader talk, unprotected sex on the beach, feet kink, mentions of animal hunting & implied bone collecting, arguable intox (?) kink, unedited, title inspired by hozier but not directly from the unreal unearth album (subtitle is), experimental style, one usage of the word ‘daddy’, piss kink

wc: 1.5k

1k event. / consider commissioning me!

You’re out at night hunting a gator that some jackass threw into your family’s lake on a whim. It’s not a body of water that beckons the upper class to visit, large parts of it swamped with algae and fervidly humid as any circle of hell. But it’s yours, and you’d hate to get your foot bitten clean off because you procrastinated taking things into your own hands. An annoying job anyway, guess the bones rumored to be buried in the marsh will have to wait.

You’re just minding your business when a boat pulls up. Standing tall behind like the wheel like a captain is your one night stand from a few days ago, John….. C? Or maybe B, whatever. To his right is your longtime acquaintance Pope, someone who you probably would be a lot closer to if you didn’t resign yourself to being the world’s youngest hermit. You bonded over math and reading and you were glad to feel normal for once, to have a normal near-friend and do normal things.

He was the one that made an off handed comment about a party going down at the beach. Nothing special on this sinkhole in the shape of an island, but in theory you can appreciate a casual offer to hang out. You made the decision to only be there for half an hour since the drive back to your trailer was long and winded. You must have looked lonely, because John B (though you didn’t know his name at the time) had sought you out 15 minutes after your arrival and pats your back while you throw up the cheap liquor. Fuck you for trying out the nauseating neon colored liquids in those cheap red solo cups.

You can’t be mad at Pope, you squirreled your way to the pebbled trail leading to the beach soon after exchanging small talk.

“You’ll feel better when you get it all out, okay?” The brunette guy holding your back softly smiles, chomping at the bit to take care of something other than everything else he has to deal with. “Just lean on me and try to relax your throat.”

You’re admittedly embarrassed but you felt something warm stir within you, if you were sober you’d have batted his hands away and all but hissed and bared your teeth. You could almost purr like this, a heavy hand settled on your head and another petting your flank to soothe your trembling. The crosses on the black jacket you’re wearing shook in the breeze, a soft chorus of jingling sounds ringing through the air. Eventually you empty your stomach, he squeezes your shoulder and tucks you into his side as you calmed down.

Your heavy eye makeup and dark lipstick are smudged, your mascara left little trails down your face due to your tears. Having a gag reflex really was the worst, you decide.

“So, do I have a name to call you?” He asked “Can’t think of you as the pretty stranger I saw puking their guts out forever, y’know?”

Your cheeks heat up and you really wish a random tsunami would sweep you out to sea, but you give him your name and hoard the sound of him repeating it in your skull. A part of you between your legs hopes that he does the same when you wrap your lips around the simple syllables of his name, first and last. John B. Routledge is more attractive than he has any right to be, but you know he doesn’t need you to tell him that.

He tilts his head and the moonlight shifts to frame his face. It makes him look like the kind of guy you‘d go to a Lovers Lane with and makeout in his car past any reasonable hour. Someone normal, and you’re a recluse but that doesn’t mean you don’t get lonely. You stumble away from the partygoers, led by his firm grip to a private-ish area of the beach.

He smiles at you again as he pulls his t-shirt off and lays it down on the ground.

He takes a seat and pats the spot beside him, “You need some peace and quiet, some fresh air too. Come sit with me, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to leave you alone right now.”

You bite the inside of your cheek but sit down anyway, and you let him rest your head against his shoulder. You sit in that position for a while, watching the full moon shine on the ocean below. It feels nice, and you weirdly don’t want to leave, so you sink into the embrace and allow the distant cheers and yelling to fade into the background.

The world is fuzzy when he kisses you for the first time, there’s an airbrush filter over everything in your field of vision. You throw caution to the wind and clumsily kiss back, enjoying the glide of your lips together and the reoccurring pecks that bookmark every brush of skin.

You slur that you really never do this, have sex with somebody the night you meet them. John B chuckles, assuring you that he never thought you were the type to do that anyway. You keep to yourself too much, it’s a wonder you’re even allowing him to peel off your studded skirt and lace panties. He kisses down your leg and when he gets to your strappy sandal, he directs your foot to his bulge and grinds against it while he undoes the straps.

Your right shoe is promptly tossed over your head. Your top joins it, but the sickening clang your jacket makes is close to taking you out of the moment.

Then he groans, and you boldly move your toes up and down the shaft, giving what seems like a sizable cock a sloppy footjob. Your foot keeps slipping, but it makes him harder watching you struggle to regain your footing and keep up your pace. You press your heel into his balls, judging the heft of them and how they swell. You only stop when you skirt your big toe around the head of his dick, and John B clamps a hand around your ankle, chiding you for being so greedy already.

He repeats the process with the other shoe and suddenly your legs are spread and he’s kneeling in front of your exposed pussy with the strangest look on his face. Like it’s what he’s been waiting his entire life for but never knew he needed until he saw it in the flesh. He teases your clit with a few uncoordinated touches, messy circles with the tip of his thumb that leave you wanting.

Your limbs wade through water on the way to wrap around his neck, your anchor in the dizzying sea of lowered inhibitions. You grow wet disturbingly quickly, and the sticky sounds of his fingers playing with your folds, delving deeper up your slit and into your cunt sound louder than gunshots.

You’re so out of it you don’t notice the golden droplets falling on the pads of his digits. He wears them like luxury rings.

He coos and grins, “That’s it, you’re a messy puppy, huh? ‘S okay, I think it’s sweet.”

Your throat spasms and gargles around a watery reply, something about agreeing and thanking him and begging. You think you call him Daddy when the pleasure starts to rewire your brain.

He’s… caring, adjusting his shirt under you so you don't get too much sand sticking to your skin and stroking his thumbs down your thighs whenever you tense up. A tad too sweet for your liking, without the bitterness you’d expect from someone else. It feels right, and you guess that’s what causes you to whine and paw at the waistband of his shorts. John B pants into your slack jawed mouth and nods, licking your teeth and freeing his dick.

You don’t pick up on the lack of alcohol that should be permeating his breath, all you can focus on is how softly he taps the fat tip of his cock on your hole. Like it’s shy but going to do whatever it wants regardless, mold your guts around his length and leave anyone else without being able to fit into the lock he’s custom made.

In the present, your grip around your shotgun loosens considerably and that’s the sign he needs.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I forgot to get your number, so I…I just couldn’t wait anymore.” He says as if that explains everything, as if it seems perfectly fine that he dragged his friend out onto his boat to find out where you lived.

You don’t remember the specifics of the night, but you recall bits and pieces. How his cock stretched your walls and left you clenching around nothing, his necklace smacking the inside of your chin as he thrust inside of you with expert precision, his tongue cleaning the dried vomit off the corner of your mouth and forcing you to taste it. You don’t really remember the individual actions, but you can’t forget the sensations, so you watch the barely there ripples in the water as the boat moves farther into the distance. Your number on a torn piece of paper clutched in John B’s fist.

The gator better not have been scared off.

[peaches2217]

Thought of the Evening: Mario eagerly (and maybe a tad excessively) wining and dining Peach. They already spend so much time together, but now they’re dating, and they’re not hiding their feelings for one another anymore! He can take her on dates! Actual dates! Candlelit dinners, solo beach getaways far, far away from Isle Delfino, private ballroom dances with a string quartet playing waltzes just for them — all these grand romantic gestures he’s been dying to shower her with, all these things he’s dreamed of providing for a special someone from the time he was a kid, all finally realized! His inner romantic has never been happier.

You’d think Super Mario of all people would pull all of this off effortlessly, given how celebrated and successful he is. You’d be wrong. His inexperience with romantic relationships coupled with his adoration for his Princess means nerves frequently get the best of him, and that tends to lead to Shenanigans™️. And I’m not talking “Tee-hee, this blue-collar cutie tries dressing up but his tie is crooked and he’s so embarrassed about it! How silly!” I’m talking more like:

He’s so lost in her eyes during their candlelight dinner that he doesn’t realize he’s swooning a little too close to an open flame until his hair catches fire, and Peach empties out the last of their very expensive champagne on his head to spare his locks.

He hastily learned how to surf to impress her, but as luck would have it, surfing is one of the few skills he can’t quite get the hang of. When he inevitably wipes out while showing off, the waves eventually spit him back out onto the shore, where he blindly crawls around in the sand until Peach reaches him because there’s a Blooper stuck to his face and a baby Cheep Chomp gnawing on his ankle.

He trips while they’re dancing together. Mario is notoriously agile and typically recovers quickly, but alas, his coordination goes out the window when he’s flustered, and he’s definitely flustered now. The result: Peach loses balance when she attempts to right him, he overcorrects when trying to save her, and they end up barreling directly into the string quartet. The casualties include three music stands and a viola.

None of these dates ever go exactly the way they’re planned. You’d think that would be a source of frustration for both parties… but you’d be wrong about that, too. Even if their dates go off-course, once the shock and embarrassment wear off, they both find themselves seized with laughter and clinging to each other for support. So what if it’s not all picture perfect? They’re together, and they’re creating shared memories, and that’s worth way more than any notion of perfection.

Besides, they’ve both brought so much excitement into each other’s lives over the years. Why should that stop now?

[cursedkeyboard]

Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader

What does Jason do when he finds a scraggly looking kid trying to pickpocket a gang member in the slums of Gotham? Beat up the criminals and steal the child, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader

Just like every other story, Jason found you by pure accident

He was doing his rounds in Gotham, tending mostly to the slums where vigilantes didn't patrol as much and police never cared for

And after being tipped by Oracle about gang activity happening nearby, of course he left to check it out

Lo and behold, the place was crawling with gangsters, but not only that, civilians as well

Civilians like you, who managed to swipe one of the gangster wallet so swiftly even Jason wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been paying attention to the only kid in the area

Needless to say, his interest was picked immediately

First of; Jason always had a soft spot for kids, so seeing one in such dreadful place immediately set off the protective alarms in his head

Second of; You reminded him so much of himself it fucking hurt

Nimble fingers, swift footsteps, a scratched up face

Clearly starved, clearly beaten, clearly abandoned

It was like looking at a mirror and seeing into the past

So when you accidentally bumped into another gangster as you tried to leave the scene, falling to the ground and letting the wallet slip from your hand, Jason didn't hesitate

Before any of the criminals tried to even look at you, Jason was already smashing their faces against the dirty streets

You, a smart street kid, immediately escaped into an alleyway as Jason created havoc by taking every gang member by himself, effectively stopping their arms deal before it even started

It was bloody, maybe a little too vicious for a certain old Bat's liking, but Jason wasn't taking any chances

Once he was done and Oracle had already updated the police to go and grab the knocked out men, Jason went looking for you

Luckily for him, the alley you slipped into was one with a dead end

He found you crouched by a large garbage bin, a cut on your cheek, and a mean little glare

Jason tried hard not to laugh

Look, you were such a small thing at that age, barely ten or so

For someone trying to be intimidating, you sure looked like a puppy

A puppy with rabies that wanted very much to chomp his fingers off but a puppy nonetheless

Instead of laughing, he crouched too, making himself smaller and less intimidating despite his large size, showing you his empty hands when you looked like you were about to bolt or bite

Jesus Christ, you were small

Could you even reach his hips?

In all honesty, he didn't think much at the moment

he didn't stop to calculate the risks or the consequences

not did he really care about how incredibly selfish he was being, trying to mend his own old wounds by using you

All Jason did was pull off his helmet, extend a hand, and ask; "Wanna come with me, squirt? I can get you a much better place than this shithole."

And while you argued that you learned never to trust strangers or follow weird men home, you also knew about Red Hood, the only vigilante to truly care about the poor in Gotham

And he'd shown his face, which, you know, vigilantes never do

So you hissed and tried your best to be a mean little shit

When Jason only laughed, never raising a hand nor his voice, something inside little you calmed down

Adults usually screamed at you when you were being annoying

Some slapped and hit you for glaring at them

But this adult... he was kind

You could tell instinctively, as a kid who barely ever experience any gentleness

You gave in with a grumble and Jason immediately wrapped you in his jacket and pulled you up in his arms

He saw you weren't wearing any shoes and he didn't want you cutting your little feet in some disease ridden glass

You tried to argue

"I'm heavy!" You had squeaked as you tried to push away from his chest

he laughed, annoyingly warm

apparently to him you weighed the same as three and a half apples

He even made a show of throwing you in the air a little when you insisted

Your little squeak put the biggest smile on his face

Jason couldn't lie, you looked fucking adorable when he put you on his motorcycle, his spare helmet so much bigger than your little head

God, he was already growing fond and it hadn't even been thirty minutes since he met you

As he strapped you in as securely as he could, making sure his jacket was closed and the helmet wouldn't slip, a familiar voice spoke up again

Oh, right, she was there the whole time

Oracle asked him if he knew what he was doing

Jason turned his comms off and drove home

He had a room to decorate and a child to feed

And as you wrapped your little arms around his middle, gasping and wow-ing as you saw parts of Gotham you had never seen

Jason knew this wouldn't be a one-time thing

To be continued...

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Hypersexual

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: reference to SA if you squint?, Astarion being soft, reader being defensive af, persistent Astarion, happy ending because I'm weak

————————————

It was one of the first things Astarion noticed about you. Your bed was rarely empty. The Grove, the Goblin Camp, the Underdark, Moonrise Towers, etc. Everywhere you went you seemed to have a warm body beside you by the end of the night. Himself included. He pined for your attention. Feeding from you daily brought you close, sleeping with you brought you closer, opening up bit by bit brought you even closer. And yet, he could still find the occasional rando leaving your tent at first light. If he listened closely enough, he could almost always hear sniffles coming from your tent every time someone left. He typically ignored it, opting to not care so he didn’t get attached. Unfortunately for him, he was attached. He had been for a while and seeing people leave your tent was like a knife to the chest every time. He wanted to confront you eventually, so that's what he did. 

He walked over to your tent, hearing the sniffles intensify the closer he got. When he peered inside he saw your naked form, balled up tight, sobbing quietly. He saw the hickies and claw marks the tiefling from last night had left on you. “Y/N?” he whispered.

You swiftly wiped your tears away as you moved to cover yourself up. “Astarion, darling. It’s so early, is everything alright?” You threw on the best smile you could manage while willing yourself to shed no more tears. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked as he moved into your tent fully.

“Tears of pleasure.” you waved him off, doing your best to sound lustful.

“You’re a terrible liar, my sweet.” he said as he sat opposite from you but still giving you space. 

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “Why do you care anyways?” you cringed internally, that sounded harsher than you intended. 

Astarion’s eyes softened a bit, “Because I care for you.” he said honestly. 

“Because I’m your blood bag,” you scoffed. “Worry not, I’m well enough for you to feed so… get on with it I guess.” you said as you tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning in for him to chomp down on your pulse point. 

Yet you felt nothing but the cold night air. Your eyes found his after a moment of hesitation. “What?” you said.

“You are so much more than food.” he said, a guilty look on his face. Is that all you thought of him? Somebody using you? “Why do you sleep with them?” he asked suddenly, trying to connect the dots in his head.

Your eyes widened, “It’s none of your business.” you said, your voice wavering. “I like sex, so why not?” your eyes avoided his, afraid he would see the truth in them. 

“Terrible liar.” he whispered, his foot tapping against your knee trying to get your attention. 

“Because it makes it all hurt a little less!” you yelled, his consistent questioning pushing you over the edge. “Because it fills the fucking void somebody put inside me. They used me, they hurt me. So if I can be desired, even for a moment, I will.” you felt tears stream down your cheeks as Astarion watched you, his mouth slightly agape. “This horrible feeling sits inside me like tar. Black and oozing and there is nothing I can do to fix it. I sleep with them because I want to know I can still be desired if I cannot be loved.”

“Who said you cannot be loved?” he said, leaning forward to wipe a tear from your face with his thumb.

“I… I just can’t… nobody can love me after what they did to me. Taking my body, playing with it while I just laid there… frozen. I thought they loved me…” you mumbled, memories from your past flooding you. 

“I love you.” he said simply.

Your head whipped up to gaze at him, “You don’t even know what love is Astarion.” you turned away from him so he couldn’t see you cry. 

“On the contrary… I have seen lust. I did it for 200 years. But this ache I have inside me, the longing I have for you and only you. That, I believe, is love. And… I like to imagine you feel the same way.” Astarion put a hand on your shoulder, moving slowly when you initially flinched away. 

“How can you love me? Aren’t you disgusted?” you whimpered. You wanted to believe him so badly, but how could you? You were made to be used. 

Astarion shifted so he could see you as he tilted your quivering chin upwards. “For sleeping with others? Darling I have bedded thousands.” he rubbed your cheek reassuringly. 

“That’s different. You didn’t have a choice.” you said, your voice coming out strained.

“I would argue that you didn’t either. When someone violates you like that… I’ve seen it go two ways. You overindulge, or you isolate. Both are natural reactions. Yours was to try and find solace, penance in others. None of it is shameful… it’s just… how things are I suppose.” he said, struggling a bit to find the right words but you felt the connection he was trying to make. 

“Each of them took a little piece of my soul… I’m not sure how much is left of me to give.” you shuddered in a breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I don’t want your soul… All I ask is your heart, in exchange for mine.” he smiled at you, moving to hold your hand while he cupped your cheek. You had never seen eyes with so much sincerity and kindness. 

“I… I’d like that.” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his for a moment before your eyes opened once again with worry. “Do we have to…” you motioned between the two of you and the bedroll.

“Not until you want to. Completely, freely.” he nodded at you.

“And if I never want to?” you asked cautiously.

“Then I will love you all the same.” he leaned in slightly. He could feel your breath on his lips but waited for you to close the gap. 

You kissed him softly. He could feel the fear and apprehension in your kiss. While you felt the patience and adoration in his.

-------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello lovelies! Hope ya'll like this one as well. Two in one night? What a deal lol I really like this one. Is it a bit of a trauma dump? Yes but writing is how I get it out and Astarion would 10000% comfort me through any of it. We love a supportive king. What a guy. Anyways! - be safe everyone, see ya'll soon!

[suw4]

Homesick

Terushima Yuji from Haikyuu!!

an/tw: that one training camp arc in s2 except johzenji was apart of it too;just for the plot. in need of angst, request some angst kskwkwjsdjj

requested on wattpad

Masterlist | Haikyuu!! Masterlist

"Oh my," Shirofuku, the reddish brown-haired Fukurodani manager, muttered. Clutching the big empty plate close to her chest. "Look at how he handles that knife," Suzumeda, the second manager added. The managers stood by the counter in the kitchen as they watched Johzenji's male manager sliced up the watermelon. He noticed the two and smiled softly at them, still handling the fruit. "Oh, are the plates ready? I'm finishing up soon. Give me a moment," he gently informed them, to which they nodded. Walking closer to where he stood, observing him.

The other Johzenji manager then walked into the kitchen. Wondering where her second year was. "Oh! [Name]-kun! There you are. I've been looking for you. Wow, where did these watermelons come from?" Misaki pondered. "The parents from Shinzen High gave us a few. They offered to cut them, but I volunteered instead. I didn’t want to trouble them," [Name] replied as he cut the last slice. After that, he asked the Fukurodani girls to plate them nicely. "Hey, [N/n]-kun. Don't you think you're helping us a lot already? You should take a break. We managers, need a break too, y'know?" his senior mumbled warily. Though, he only shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I'm actually trying to get away from the crowd a little,"

"Oh? Is it too much for you?" she tilted her head. The other managers listening in curiosity. "Not particularly. How do I put it?" he trailed off as he helped the girls to put the last piece onto the third plate. "Homesick? I don't know the exact term, but I can't really adjust here," he admitted embarrassingly, clearing his throat as the said symptom was acting up. Facing away from the others to wash his hands and the kitchen tools. "Is that foolish?" he continued. "Nope! It's a valid reason. There were a few players admitting to us about that before, it’s common," Suzumeda assured him, Shirofuku nodding as to agree with her. Chomping down a slice of watermelon. "If you're feeling unwell, you can always rely on us!" she beamed.

[Name] thanked the girls for the reassurance. They grinned and bid a short farewell before going out to the gymnasium to give out the fruits. Misaki then took the last plate and glanced over to the two who had walked out. She then heard the [h/c] haired sighed heavily. "[Name]-kun. Would you like me to call him over to check on you? I'm sure you'll feel better," she peeped closer to the male. Patting his back. "Nah. It's alright. I'll manage," he answered. The other exhaled. "Okay then. Don't overwork yourself!" she warned him before catching up with the other managers.

The three girls announced happily to the volleyball players about the fruits. Cheers erupted amongst the boys. Practice matches came to a stop, and everyone went outside to taste the heavenly juices of the watermelon. Freshly replenishing their thirst and hunger. Yuji then walked up to his manager, taking one slice for himself. "Hana-san. Where's [N/n]?" he asked, curious about the [h/c] head. "Oh. Hm... He's in the kitchen washing the bottles. You should go see him," she told him. This perked the wing spiker. "Why? Is he okay? Is he sick???" he blurted out, worried. Before Misaki could answer, he was already on the way to the kitchen. He wanted to see [Name] right away.

"[N/N]!!!!!!!!!!" Yuji yelled, rushing towards the kitchen area. Slamming the door open and jumping onto the male. Almost losing his balance. Luckily, he was able to react quickly. Dropping the bottles into the sink and caught him. "Yu?? Why are you here? Ow!" The volleyball player slapped a hand on [Name]'s forehead. "Do you feel good?!" he asked, close to yelling. "What?? Yeah, I am. Did Hana-senpai say something to you?" he felt the blond slipping from his grip, so he hopped to adjust the position. Supporting Yuji's weight under his butt. Letting the player sit comfortably on his arms. "Are you sick!?" The blond continued with his questions. [Name] stared at him for a few seconds and laughed. "Calm down, baby. I'm fine. I'm just a little nauseous. But overall, I'm doing okay," he grinned, kissing his boyfriend. Yuji huffed, getting off the [h/c] head while the said male carefully put him down. "What's wrong, huh? Did ya eat something funny?"

"No. I think I'm just homesick," [Name] shrugged. Yuji clicked his tongue and placed his hands onto his hips. "That's because you've been inside for too long!" he exclaimed. Sounding too confident with his statement. He then took his boyfriend's hand and pulled him out of the kitchen, and out of the building. "Wait, I have to do the--"

"Nope! You're coming with me!"

Yuji led his lover to the same hill that Karasuno did their running punishment. He was dragging the male forward. Bouncing about as he was excited being outside with the love of his life. He stopped at the top with [Name] following up behind. The volleyball player took a deep breath of the fresh air. Feeling refresh as ever. "You smell that, babe? Smells like paradise!"

"Smells like an average afternoon to me,"

"Don't be such a killjoy, [N/n]!" the blond groaned, snapping his head towards him. Earning a chuckle from him. Yuji then sat down on the green land. Tugging the other down. [Name] followed suit and sat beside him. Then the cold breeze brushes along their skin. Yuji shivered lightly, causing his boyfriend to glance over. He watched him lean back with his hands in the grass to support his weight. His blond locs flowing gracefully along with the wind. The smile that was plastered on his face made him unconsciously smile. It was honestly goofy.

Sensing the eyes on him, Yuji turn to look at its owner. The smile had turned into a toothy one. Making the [h/c] head smile further. Suddenly, he didn't feel nauseous anymore. "You're so cute, Yu. And annoyingly hot," he complimented. Yuji hummed cheekily. "Of course I am! I am the Terushima Yuji. The one and only,"

"Yeah..." [Name] uttered quietly. His loving gaze still fixated on his boyfriend. The blond raised his brows as he observed the manager's expression. He smirked. "You're so in love with me that you can't help it don't you? You want to kiss me so bad," he teased, sticking out his pierced tongue. [Name] scoffed and smirked. Leaning closer and placing his lips onto the other. It was short and sweet. Nothing more. As he parted from the kiss, he saw the baffled look on Yuji's face--which soon turned into disappointment. "That's it?!" he gaped. [Name] let out a laugh. "What? you can tease me, but I can't tease you, sweetheart?"

"Aw, c'mon, [N/n]!" Yuji whined as he shook his boyfriend. The two began to banter about. Pushing each other and laughing around like they were the only ones in the whole wide world. Once the chaos had finally calm down, Misaki came walking by to inform Yuji that practice has started. The male groaned in annoyance. He wanted to spend more time with his lover. So instead of separating, he forced the boy to watch him play. In that way, he could play at his top performance; he says. Instantly, he stood up and pulled the taller up. Dragging him once more, straight into the gym. Misaki watched them and sighed while shaking her head. "He looks better now... I'm glad," she mumbled to herself. Mentally thanking Johzenji's team captain.