#I started screaming and wailing and letting as much of it out as possible

[tender-rosiey]

smack, smack — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: special thanks to the beautiful @stinkyme for inspiring me to actually write this and for fangirling over the idea with me <3

gojo satoru, like any dad, got his fair share of ‘bullying’ from his daughter, his 5 months old baby.

some dads get peed on, others get their hair pulled, and others get their nose bitten on the daily. it's a little something to make them suffer a bit like the mothers had to during the pregnancy.

your husband, however, is always getting smacked in the face whenever he has his blindfold on, and I mean harshly smacked in the face and unforgiving scratching.

the first time it happened was when he was going to school. he was ready, uniform on and everything, but he simply had to say goodbye to his two girls.

skipping to your shared bedroom, he placed two big smooches on your face. then, after much of pulling him off you, he went to smooch his little girl. a big unmatched grin was on his face as he looked down at her in her crib.

he picked her up, cooing softly at her, “what a pretty girl, just as pretty as your mama, huh?”

satoru then laid her gently against his chest and started rocking her softly, while humming. after a while, he felt her stir a little in his arms. she sleepily looks up at him, and he smiles down at her, “good morning, baby—“

now, your daughter was used to seeing her dad without the blindfold. she was used to getting met by her dad's bright blue eyes.

so when a strange unknown man was holding her up instead of her papa, she started wailing and screaming, repeatedly smacking him in the face.

whenever her little—strong—hand landed on the blindfold, she would try to pull it off with all her baby might. you scrambled out of your bed at the loud screeches and screams of both your husband and your daughter.

you saw how satoru was desperately trying to, as gently as possible, make her release her grip. you stumbled on your words, before yelling, “your blindfold! take off your blindfold off!”

“I! am! trying!” he yelps as she continues slapping the hell out of his face.

you hurry and take his blindfold off, swiftly throwing it to the side. he started rocking her, smiling despite the red marks and scratches all over his handsome face, “it’s me, daddy! you see me?”

almost magically, your daughter calmed down in an instant with the occasional hiccup from her previous crying. he smiled, “there you go; that’s my girl.”

she gently made grabby hands at him, and he quickly pulled her back into his chest. your daughter instantly snuggled into his shoulder and hid her face in his neck.

you stared at him for a moment, “well, at least we know that she bloody hates that blindfold.”

it honestly kind of adds up.

you remember the many times that your daughter was generally distressed or fussy and instantly calmed down when she saw her dad’s eyes. you also remember that one time your daughter was actually zoning out while looking at satoru’s eyes, her own safe place.

satoru chuckles with a shrug, “I have you as my savior, anyway.”

“you can’t always count on me to be the one to save you from our daughter’s monstrously strong grip.”

and he can’t.

no one is brave enough to try and to fight back a baby, let alone the strongest sorcerer’s baby.

that attack happens way more than satoru would like. for example, whenever you’re busy, he takes his little princess to the school with him. in general, everyone helps in taking care of the little angel (devil in some cases).

however, god forbid she sees satoru coming back from a mission with his blindfold on.

it took some time for your husband to learn his lesson and immediately take his blindfold off before he entered the school. until then, he was prone to his daughter’s crazy strong hand smacking his face till his entire face is painted red and not the cute kind.

satoru never believed in his students to save him, except for yuuji. the first time it happened around the students, most of them were either laughing or speechless.

yuuji did try to save his sensei from his smacking machine of a daughter, but ended up getting smacked himself.

your husband did hope that, maybe, nanami’s heart would soften, and he would finally help him.

nanami’s heart did soften, just not for satoru. instead, your daughter now has a special soft spot in nanami’s heart, as he did in hers, but that isn’t our topic for today.

the amount of times you would enter the room to find nanami chuckling or smiling at your husband getting beaten to a pulp by your baby. satoru could be sobbing, “nanami, please! save me!”

and nanami would simply smile—sadistically—and hum, “I don’t think I will.”

you’re pretty sure that nanami believes this is god’s way of punishing your husband for all the mischief he caused.

ignoring that, it grips your heart how satoru’s face would brighten up the moment he saw you. he would run up to you, giving you the baby to calm her down while he gives his face a rest.

and your little girl was smiling and giving you her version of cheek kisses.

your husband recovered quickly though, and took her back, his blindfold finally off. he doesn’t do it without pecking your lips though, “my savior.”     

then he gets lost in his own world with his little girl, and their laughs and giggles filled the room. her hands were gently holding her dad’s face as she squeals, and satoru’s heart soars as he forgets about his beating from a moment ago.

now, that doesn’t mean that his dear students don’t make fun of him for always losing against his little girl. during one of the recent teasings, he simply huffed, “you never tried the grip of a baby! tell them, yuuji!”

yuuji shudders as he remembers how long the slap mark lasted, “she is one hell of a strong baby.”

it’s one thing for panda and nobara to laugh, it’s another for megumi and maki to do so as well. your husband’s ego simply couldn’t take it anymore. he took his baby in his arms and gathered the baby bags, sparing one last glance at his ‘bullies’.

and so your husband dramatically exits the room, “I need my wife! I can’t with you people anymore!”

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[littlechivalry]

I love the idea of our Hawkins teens going to a showing of a Rocky Horror so much so please join me in this:

Eddie's driving. He's excited, loves that he gets to 'pop their cherry.' He pulls up to Harrington house expecting to see Steve and Robin posted up outside in full Brad and Janet regalia.

Eddie of course is dressed as Eddie and of course he thought about Frank but that might be too much. Steve is cool but is he cool? Eddie hopes but he's not an idiot.

Instead of proper Midwestern church clothes he finds Robin standing out front in a raggedy black suit, her hair greased down while Vicki (and yes Eddie had had his suspicions) is next to her dressed as a maid with her own bright red hair teased out to heaven.

"Riff Raff? Magenta? I didn't expect to see you two here."

Vicki laughs but Robin gives him a look that makes a shiver run up his back.

"So where's Steve? Decided to stay home?"

The last syllable barely leaves his lips when the door opens and - - -

LEGS. Fishnet stocking LEGS. Tap pants and a bustier and a shining tail coat and a top hat and a blinding grin and LEGS.

"Columbia?"

Steve laughs and dances down the steps and he's wearing tap shoes too? Eddie may not survive this.

Robin laughs at him but Vicki pats his shoulder in commiseration.

The drive to Indy is filled with jokes and conversation and music and Eddie is paying attention to the conversation. And he is paying attention to the road. But

LEGS

They get to the theater and get their props and their seats. A few songs in Steve begs off to go to the bathroom. Does Eddie watch him go? Of course. Can he actually see him very well in the darkened theater? No. But it's the principle of the thing.

Then the music starts up for the Time Warp and Eddie is on his feet along with everyone else in the theater. There are performers on stage dancing along with the movie, a long line of tuxedo clad strangers when suddenly a figure goes flying across the stage and Eddie can hear Robin and Vicki whooping but he is frozen.

It's Steve. Tapping. It's a perfect recreation of Columbia's dance routine and when the other boy finally comes to a stop, gasping, on a chair at the corner of the stage Eddie finds his voice screaming louder than he has at any concert he's ever been to.

A few minutes later Steve makes his way back to his seat and Robin lunges past Eddie to throw herself at him. Eddie can make out that she's talking but not what she's saying.

They make it through the rest of the show and it's amazing. Eddie's second favorite moment may be when Steve and Robin wrapped their arms around him during "Eddie" wailing out fake sobs.

They sing and shout themselves hoarse. The ride home is quiet but in the best possible way. Robin and Vicki are as good as sleeping in the back of the van and Steve is leaning against the window, humming along with the radio.

"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"

Steve smiles but it's barely a shadow of his usual smile and it fades fast. "When I was little my mom still gave half a shit about being seen as a good mother so she put me in dance classes. It didn't last too long. My dad didn't like it and after a while it became more important for her to be seen as a good wife so I was taken out and put into every sport."

Eddie doesn't say anything. Can't say anything.

"I really liked it though? I can't play music and I'm not much of a singer but I really like dancing. Robin had to put up with me practicing this almost constantly for the past few weeks. I thought she was gonna kill me."

"So you learned this for tonight?"

Steve turned to face Eddie and smiles. "I learned it for you, man. Thought you would get a kick out of it."

The small ember of Eddie's crush on Steve had initially been lit years ago in high school. He had banked it carefully, couldn't bear to let it go cold but too worried about losing Steve as a friend to let it flare bright.

"You learned it for me?" Eddie's stomach feels warm

"Yeah," Steve says, smiling. "Every Eddie needs a Columbia, right?"

Steve is laughing at him and that only makes Eddie feel warmer. Steve. His crush, Steve. Steve did this for him.

"Yeah," Eddie says. "Yeah, he does."

"Thought so," Steve says, turning back to the window.

Eddie drives them back to Hawkins in a silence full of potential.

[igotanidea]

Haircut: Jason Todd x reader

Inspired by the post from @pop-culturereference about what Jason's fans really want from DC (link here)

***

„AH!!”

An involuntary scream left her mouth the second she came home. Jason was not used to his girlfriend being so expressive, but protective instinct kicked in as he jumped off the couch he was reading a book on and immediately rushed to her side.

“Y/N! Love, what happened?” his hands found hers, squeezing them gently, trying to ground her in reality and assure her that whatever scared her so much was no match for him.

“What happened to you?” she sobbed, not even trying to stop the tears running down her cheeks.

“Huh?” Jason frowned “Look, I know I’m not exactly model handsome, but—”

“WHO DID THIS TO YOU?!” she wailed as if someone was tearing her heart out or squeezing her lungs.

“What are you--?” he tried again, quite taken aback by the intensity of her emotions. She wasn’t ever crying this much when he came home bloodied and bruised. She never let a single muscle on her face twitch while  patching him up. But when he was okay, just chilling and for once – not getting into trouble she got into a waterfall mode. “Y/n? Look at me. Look at me!” he grabbed her chin and forced her eyes on him.

“I AM!”

“Then you can see I’m all good. It’s all good! Come on baby, whatever fear took over your brain, you have to wake up from this!”

“Your hair!” she broke into crying fit again

“My hair?” he instinctively ran his fingers through his strands. “What about them?”

“WHERE IS IT?”

Oh.

Oh, so finally they were getting to the bottom of the problem.

He cut his hair shorter than she was used to and clearly she didn’t like it.

“Look, I just thought-“

“Was it Roy? I’m sure it was Roy. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill him! How is it that I leave you guys for a few hours and you always end up causing trouble.”

“It was not—”

“Then who was it? Dick?”

“Ugh! As if I would ever let him anywhere near my head!”

“Then who helped you did this atrocity?” she pressed, taking a look at his inch-long strands.

“I did it myself.” He responded, almost sounding proud.

“You-you-yourself…?” Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she stuttered. Her bag was dropped to the ground with a concerning sound of rattling, but neither of them care about the possibility of something being crashed. They had more urgent matters at the moment. The sense of betrayal slowly started creeping inside her heart.

“It’s just hair—”

“Just hair?! Are you insane?” she snapped at him “You should have asked me what I think first!”

“But—”

“Do not argue with me, Jason! You’re my boyfriend! It is not just about what you like! You can’t just act on whims without finding out my approach to the matter!”

“It’s just hair—” once more, the poor attempt at reaching her reason failed.

“How am I supposed to run my fingers through it now? And how am I supposed to live without your mop tickling me when we cuddle?”

“Y/n…” he smiled softly, cupping her cheek, meeting her eyes

“I liked them longer… I’m sorry if that hits your insecurities, but—”

“It does make me a little unsure, not gonna lie.” He chuckled. “But only a little. Cause what I’m hearing now, is that you liked my wilder look. For example when I was taking the hood off and have my hair all ruffled? Or when I was –”

“I see what you are trying to do here, Mr. Todd and I’m not falling for it.” Y/N read right through his intentions to invoke an innuendo and tried to step back.

“Come on, baby.” Jason quickly grabbed her waist, circling arms around her like two snakes, preventing her from backing out. “Admit it. You liked the bad boy image I had. It turned you on, didn’t it?”

“Well it doesn’t anymore—“

“Guess that only means, I’ll have to try twice as hard… Cause too bad for you, sunshine, my hair is gonna stay like that for a while. So you have to like it. “

“Oh really-?”

“Most definitely. In fact, I think I’m gonna ditch the longer hair for good. This kind of haircut is so much more practical, you know. No strands sticking to my forehead when we get sweaty. None of them in my eyes when I fight only in the domino mask, no tangles and all that stuff-“

“You’re terrible!”

���Yeah, yeah I am, and what are you going to do about it baby?” he smirked and leaned forward, giving her a teasing look “you love me either way, we both know it.”

“Well maybe I should cut my hair too.” Her eyes glistened with mischief “you know- to match your new style.”

“What?” Jason turned a little pale. His princess was going to get rid of her perfect locks?! Over his dead body! (Even if that meant dying again.) “You are not!”

“Too bad for you I already made that decision. In fact I’m gonna go to the hairdresser first thing tomorrow—”

“I won’t let you out of here! You can’t just make such important decisions without talking to me first!”

“But I just told you.” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

“And the answer is no!”

“It was not a question.”

“You are not cutting your hair. It is not only yours! It’s mine too! We’re a couple, practically like one being!”

“Well maybe if we attach some of mine to your head we can both have what we want?”

“I got a better idea. I’ll keep you trapped here for as long as mine grow back, how about that?”

“And what shall we do for so many months Mr Todd?” she hummed with a glint in her eyes.”

“Duh! I’ll make sure to convince you that the length of my hair is not the one that should be of your concern, baby…” Jason smirked letting his hoarse tone reveal what was on his mind.

Was he acting like a hypocrite? Yes.

Did she care? No.

Cause one thing that was absolutely sure about Jason Todd that there was only one like him in the world. Capable of twisting the words in a way that always turned the situation a little less serious. And whatever hairstyle he was sporting, she was not going to change him for anyone else.

[patrywoso]

10. Alexia Putellas

+18 SMUT

“No more, please, I can’t!” you could barely see from the sweat stinging your eyes, and you rubbed your face in the sheets, trying to dry yourself as much as possible. Your muscles shook, and you were exhausted. You had lost count of how many times you’d come after four. You were pretty sure you were on seven, or maybe eight? All you knew was your skin was overly sensitive, your muscles were heavy with fatigue and pressure, and you were done. Except Alexia wasn’t done.

Alexia smiled, her hands firmly gripping your hips. She admired the downward slope of your back. Alexia marveled at the drops of sweat that dripped down your spine to your neck. She could feel your body shake, and she let her gaze drift across blushing, glistening skin. Her lips twitched when she saw the light ropes that held you in position, on your knees with your face pressed into the sheets, your arms stretched above your shoulders. You were in the perfect position, a willing supplicant.

“Come on princess,” and she smirked at the small shiver that rippled up your spine. “You can, and you will. Just one more.” Alexia hesitated a moment, her hands gently caressing the red hand painted curves of your bottom. “Do you remember the word? The one that makes me stop?” She waited, and when you nodded your head, she gutted lightly under her breath. “No, princess, say it out loud, so I know that you remember.”

“Rosa,” you muttered, your voice dry and scratchy. You licked your lips, trying to moisten them, as you were convinced all moisture in your body had flowed south to meet at the juncture of your thighs.

“You remember that I won't stop no matter how you beg and plead unless you say, Rosa?”

You grunted and whispered, “I remember.” And you resolved not to say it, despite knowing you would soon be begging Alexia to stop. There was something desperate, but freeing in the realization that you could wail and scream and beg, and Alexia would still command your body, dragging orgasms from you with almost brutish tenderness; but one word would end it all, and Alexia would be stripped of her power.

You wiggled your hips slightly, readying your tired and aching muscles, knowing that Alexia wouldn't stop until you had wrung one last orgasm from your shaking frame unless you said one simple word.

“Good girl,” murmured Alexia as she leaned down, letting her breasts drag through the warm sweat of your back. She placed a soft kiss at the base of the back of your neck, before straightening again, her voice becoming a little deeper, a little huskier.

“Do you want to use your word, princess?” Alexia jogged her hips forward, smiling at the way you whimpered and rolled your hips despite claiming you’d had enough.

“No,” the word was a little more than a strangled wheeze, and Alexia rewarded you by reaching under your hip and tapping your hard clit. She smiled at the way you groaned and shuffled on your shaking knees.

Alexia pressed forward gently, aware that you were overly sensitive. She let her fingers press into the underside of your hips, and her thumbs pressed soothing circles into the rounded curve of your cheeks. She smiled as she felt the head of the dildo press into your warm folds. She met some resistance, as she felt you immediately clamp down on the head. She slid her hands up your sides, letting her fingers press gently along the lattice of your ribs, as she pushed forward slightly.

“Alexia!” you half-sobbed as you tried to push forward, away from the dildo, your resolve starting to wane. “I told you, I can’t!” your voice wavered at the last word, and you groaned at the feel of the dildo sliding slightly inside of you. You shivered violently and whimpered, you were so tired, your muscles were wrung out, all of your energy had gone into the last orgasm, and you had nothing left to give to Alexia. But you still refused to give Alexia the one word that would make it stop.

Alexia tutted under her breath, she wrapped one hand firmly around your hip, so you couldn’t escape her. She let the other hand slide down your back, whisking firmly through the sheen of sweat. “Do you trust me?” Her voice was quiet, but firm, and it broke through your muffled murmurs.

You turned your head so your cheek rested against the slightly damp sheets. Your skin prickled, and you were uncomfortable. Your hair was stuck to your face, and you could only imagine what you must look like, you knew your skin was flushed, and you just wanted to sleep, but you couldn’t. Alexia’s voice always called to you, it held a strange sort of allure, and you were sure you would follow that voice into hell itself.

You snuffled a little, the tears pricking at your eyelids. “Yes,” you whispered and you heard the sharp intake of breath behind you, and you could almost see the smile that shone in Alexia’s next words.

“Thank you, my love.” Alexia smiled, that familiar feeling tugging sharply at her chest, and she pressed forward, feeling your flesh reluctantly part for her. She gripped your hip a little harder, pushing you slightly away from her and then pulling you back into the cradle of her thighs. She laid her left hand on the middle of your back, and held you firmly down, as she jogged her hips forward sharply, sheathing her strap all the way inside you.

Alexia rubbed gentle circles on your back when you cried out, and she twisted slightly so she could see your face, red and blotchy, and she could see tears starting to run down your cheeks. Alexia hesitated for a moment, worried she might have pushed too far, worried that you really couldn’t go any further. She knew she was testing the limits of what your body was capable of, but somehow she just knew that you had one orgasm left in you, that would wring you dry, twist all of your muscles, and cloud your eyes. And she wanted it, she wanted to feel her love break apart in her arms, lose herself completely.

Alexia held herself still for a moment, waiting for you to relax, and when she felt you start to sag, she withdrew her hips, pulling out all the way so just the head rested against your entrance. And then she pushed all the way into your sex in one smooth glide, smiling at the cry wrenched from your chest, but she didn’t stop, instead pumping her hips in a steady rhythm.

“Is this what you wanted, princess? Hmmmm? Me inside of you, as deep as I can go?” She jogged her hips, rotating them hard, smiling at the way you grunted and trembled before her. “Tell me!” She commanded, her hips slapping against the back of your thighs and bottom. “Tell me, is this what you wanted? To be tied up and laid bare, mewling like a cat in heat?” she growled the last few words, her tongue thick in her throat, waiting for an answer.

Alexia slapped her hand down hard on your bottom, just enough to sting and make your fair skin blush with the heat and strength of Alexia’s hand. “Tell me!” She reached around your hip, her fingers easily finding your hard and slippery clit. She pressed her fingers to it roughly, rubbing it hard, knowing that after so many orgasms, you were starting to feel numb from over-sensitization.

You let out a sharp cry, tears running down your face. It hurt, and your skin was on fire. But it was exquisite, your body caught in an internal war, desperate to feel the burning buildup to release. You pulled on the ropes, pushing back into Alexia, trying to escape the fingers on your clit, but still searching for the heavy pressure inside of you that only Alexia could bring to fruition.

“Y-yes,” you choked on the word, tears wetting your lips making them sting from the tears. “Please, Alexia. Please,” you sobbed, although you didn't know if you were begging for Alexia to stop or to never stop.

Alexia smiled and gently stroke her fingers, lightly tracing your clit, while she jogged her hips slightly, barely pulling out. It wasn't enough to tip you over the edge, and she knew it. Alexia enjoyed the way you squirmed, the way you pushed back into her, searching for her, trying to rub yourself against Alexia’s fingers. She grasped your hips, ignoring your cries of dismay. She pulled your cheeks apart so she could better see the dildo as she jogged her hips.

Alexia stilled. “Fuck yourself on my cock, princess. Show me how badly you want it.”

It was barely more than a whisper, but you heard it in your heat hazed mind, and you whimpered as you tried to leverage yourself. It was awkward as your tied wrists didn’t allow for much room, but you managed. You jerked your hips forward and then back, fumbling as you tried to find a rhythm, your shoulders ached, and your head hung between your arms, hair sticking to your wet face. It was long moments before you found a rhythm, your shoulders screaming at you as you leveraged them harshly against the strain of the rope. You could feel the heat building inside you, coiling and crackling, as you pumped your hips, fucking yourself on the dildo. But you didn't have enough strength to push yourself over the edge, and you whimpered and cried gasping tears, your body buckling and straining for the last orgasm that was just out of reach.

“Please. Please. Finish me,” you sobbed as your hips stuttered to a halt, and your flesh quaked and clenched around the hard dildo inside of you.

Alexia leaned over and licked the sweat down your spine, smiling at the musky taste. She pulled back, satisfied that you were finally ready. She maintained her grip, spreading your cheeks, and began to pump her hips. She stared down mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm of her strap disappearing into you. It stirred something in her belly watching how your red muscles grasped at the dildo, sucking it in. She could feel her own orgasm building, the base of the dildo rubbing against her own aching clit. She grits her teeth, determined not to come before you. She reached up and slipped a finger into her mouth, wetting it, and letting her saliva run down it before she pressed her finger against your smaller opening. She circled it gently, teasing it open, and then pushing firmly against it.

She felt you stiffen.

“Breathe. Just breathe.”

And once you had relaxed, she pushed the tip of her finger inside. “Good girl,” she murmured as she pushed in deeper and then pulled out and pushed in again. Soon Alexia had picked up a new rhythm, alternating pumping into your wet sex and pumping her finger between your cheeks. She smiled at the way you groaned and shook, twisting your body, she mumbled and begged with words only half-formed. She could feel you bearing down on her, your muscles clenching harshly around the dildo, and it was hard to pump her hips. She rotated them, grinding against the curve of your bottom. 

You felt your own orgasm crash and spread through her pelvis and abdomen, and you shivered and panted, sweat dripping down your back. You groaned, the tears hot against your cheeks, and every muscle shook violently. You could feel something deep inside, buried in the cracks of your bones pushing out and up, and you were too tired to identify it, to realize that this last orgasm was different from the rest. It scorched every cell of your body, and rose up from the very depths and broke across your skin. You gasped and your entire body twitched and trembled, and you couldn’t see anything, and you could barely feel yourself.

The friction from Alexia’s finger in your bottom grew and expanded into a ball of heat at the base of your spine. You shuddered and groaned, the pressure in your sex igniting the ball at the base of your spine. You felt the flush spread up your spine like a warm blanket on a cold night, and you clenched hard around Alexia’s finger, pulling it deeper into yourself. The orgasm rolled through you leaving you shaking and crying, your muscles sporadically twitching, the relief and pleasure zipping along your nerves, more than you could bear. You were floating, higher than you’d ever been, and you smiled as your muscles stilled in warm lassitude, and you simply floated free. You were dimly aware of something warm and wet scraping across your body, but you didn’t care, all you cared about was the soothing warmth that buoyed your body, and you simply let yourself go.

Alexia bit her lip, slightly worried at the way you slumped on the bed, and she slowly withdrew from you’s tight folds, smiling a little at the wet squelching sound. She pulled her finger out, dropping a soft kiss on the small gaping opening. She hopped off the bed, and quickly unbuckled the harness, and tossed it to the floor. Alexia hurried around to the side of the bed, her fingers fumbling at the knots that held your wrists to the intricate headboard. She looped the soft ropes into the lattice, before turning her attention back to you. Alexia gently rolled you onto your back, smiling when she noticed the soft quirk of your mouth and the dreamy look in your eyes. She stretched you out carefully, one arm supporting your head, while her other hand cupped your face.

“Princess?” Alexia kissed the corner of your mouth, letting her lips linger until you managed to focus on her. “Are you ok? Was it too much?”

You shook your head, smiling a little as you rested in Alexia’s arms, your muscles were heavy and warm, but you were sure you were floating, buoyed on top of waves that rocked you gently. Alexia breathed a sigh of relief and gently laid you back down on the bed. “Be right back,” she murmured as she placed a lingering kiss on your cheek before pulling away.

“Princess?” Alexia chuckled lightly when you groaned, your lips twisting into a frown. “You can sleep as soon as I clean you,” Alexia said as she had a wet cloth and began to clean you, dragging the cloth along your limbs and between your breasts, removing all vestiges of your sweat. Alexia rolled you over carefully, wiping the cloth up and down your back, and then rinsing and wringing the cloth out again. It only took a few minutes, until Alexia was satisfied. She gently rubbed you dry. 

Alexia pulled out the oil and dumped a few drops of the fragrant into her palms. She rubbed them together, and then ran her hands along your wrists, wincing slightly at the red marks left by the rope. You grunted and twisted away, your mind still hazy, barely aware of anything but the air hitting your newly washed body. You shivered and felt the warmth in your limbs start to wane.

“No,” you muttered as you tried to grab on to the feeling, stretch it along your bones, and bury it in your muscles. You whimpered as you felt yourself start to sink. It was cold, and your skin prickled.

Alexia worked quickly, rubbing the soothing oil that had medicinal properties meant to help heal small cuts and inflammation into your wrists and then along the firm globes of your bottom, which still bore the slightest pink of Alexia’s hands.

“I know, I know. It’s ok, princess. I'm here,” Alexia murmured as she finished, and stepped away for a moment, hurrying across the room to grab some water. She poured a cup, splashing it in the process. She cursed under her breath and walked back to you who was starting to grow more and more restless. She helped you into a sitting position, putting the mug to your lips. “Drink.” It took a few minutes but you drank all of it, splashing some that dripped down your naked chest.

You shivered again, your muscles trembling, tears pricking at your eyes. You could feel something empty and cold yawning open in your chest, and you burned your face into Alexia’s chest.

“Make it stop.”

“I will.” Alexia wrapped you in the softest blanket, kept just for this occasion, the inevitable drop. She wrapped you into a cocoon and then wrapped you in her arms.

“I love you. You were perfect. So beautiful and strong,” Alexia murmured as she pressed light kisses to your face. She was rewarded with a deep sigh from you as you pushed your face into the warm crook of Alexia’s neck.

Alexia continued to whisper to you, soothing you and pulling you into sleep, her strong arms sheltering you from the rest of the world. The cold empty spot in your chest was carefully stitched closed with every word Alexia whispered.

And you slept.

[zvdvdlvr]

— I Love You

— 🧠 synopsis. A tough case leaves you in the more than willing arms of SSA Aaron Hotchner.

— 🧠 word count. 2,409

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language. Idiots to lovers. Friends to lovers. Weird plot. Possible jealous!Hotch.

Maybe it was the children that hadn’t been saved in time. Maybe it was the pitying glances from not only the team, but the police officers. Maybe, even, it was the way Aaron’s eyes flitted away any time y/n looked up. 

No, y/n was mad. Angry, spiteful, defiant- any other synonyms for angry. The fact that the unsub had been completely fooled by y/n’s act until he had promptly decided he didn’t believe y/n’s promise to help in any way she could to lower his prison sentence. That’s the thing with schizophrenics: they’re extremely paranoid.

Y/n was so infuriated, she refused to talk- a habit that she had learned from childhood. If she didn’t say anything, she couldn’t get in trouble. It was a bad habit that y/n had eventually stopped by the time she went to college because the anger she kept inside of her without any kind of release would always find a way to rot her from the inside out. 

So now, even on the flight home, y/n still hasn’t said more than two sentences in a row.

— 🧠

Aaron Hotchner was a man with excellent observation skills and the ability to adapt. He knew y/n’s habit of reserving herself to silence due to the amount of time they have worked together, but Aaron felt like something was different this time.

Instead of starting the pile of paperwork he already had, Aaron instead found himself watching y/n. She was always extremely sensitive to cases that dealt with kids, but this seem to hit home, adding to the fact that their unsub had blown his brains out within a five foot radius of y/n and the seven-year-old girl that had been the last victim. 

When the team had gotten to the scene, they watched the little girl dissolve into y/n’s arms, brain matter and blood on the latter’s face. The look in y/n’s eyes when Derek had immediately rushed to the two of them was one of complete despair. Aaron watched, paralyzed, as you picked up the little girl and let her scream and wail near your ringing ears. You turned, pressing her head down so she wouldn’t look at the dead body and look Aaron dead in the eyes and took the child to the ambulance.

Something in your eyes had provoked worry in Aaron. Did you feel guilty? Were you not allowing yourself to break down when you needed to be strong for the little soul in your arms? Was there something you were trying to tell him?

“Hey,” Hotch murmured. He sat down as carefully as he could (which wasn’t too impressive seeing as it was 1 in the morning on a plane).

When you didn’t say anything, Hotch sighed. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I need you to know you did what you had to do. What he did… that wasn’t on you, y/n.”

Then you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and Aaron felt his heart sink. “Oh, honey…” he whispered. 

And then you were in his arms, crying, while trying not to wake up the others. “Hotch, I-“ you started, sniffling. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Aaron all but cooed, lightly carding his fingers through your hair. He knew you blamed yourself because that’s how you are. You always strive to do the best you possibly could, oftentimes resorting to neglecting yourself whenever you did something that you knew you could have done better or simply because you forgot. 

“It’s all my fault, Aaron, I- I could have saved him but- I… I messed up and I- I don’t even know what I did! And that little girl…” you trailed off, another wave of tears threatening to overtake your ability to speak. 

Aaron’s throat bobbed as he struggled to find the words to comfort the woman in his arms. Long ago had he resigned to simply being y/n’s boss/borderline friend because he accepted the fact that- as much as he hated to admit it- he was older, not your type, or just simply unattractive. But he would do theoretically anything you asked him to do even if it caused him heartbreak in the future.

“You saved that little girl, angel. *You* did. If you save one of them, you save all of them. Focus on the good, honey, not the bad. If you can do that then you can do anything, and believe me,” Aaron smiled, “I have no doubt in my mind you can do anything.” 

Aaron held you and prayed to God that you didn’t hear how fast his heart was racing. He brushed your tears away and let you sleep on his shoulder, happy that he had hopefully gotten you out of your funk.

— 🧠

Later, Aaron woke up to Derek tapping his shoulder. “Do you want me to take our golden girl home?” Derek asked, with a softness to his voice that he had whenever he talked to you. 

Blinking away the tiredness from his eyes, Aaron shook his head. “No. No, I got her. Tjank you, Derek, but you need to go home and get some rest.” 

Derek nodded. “Get home safe,” he said to Hotch, a small smile in his face when he heard you sigh a little in you sleep and bury your head even further into Aaron’s neck.

Derek patted Aaron’s shoulder before taking his leave.

“Wake up, y/n,” Aaron murmured, heart swelling in his chest when he heard you mumble incoherent words.

Slinging his own go-bag and yours over his shoulders, Hotch helped you stand up.

“Hotch, lemme take my-“ you started, being cut off with a yawn.

“I got it, y/n,” Aaron chuckled. He let you slip your arm in his and all but lean on him as he made his way to his car. 

When he got you settled into the passage seat, Aaron tossed the bags in the back and started the drive to your house. 

“Aaron?” You asked, voice small.

He looked over at you. Despite the lack of light, Aaron watched you pick at your fingers. “Yeah?”

It took you a minute before saying something. You wanted to ask him why he kept calling you ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’. It’s not that you didn’t like it (you loved it), you just don’t think he could keep calling you that if he didn’t have any kind of attraction to you. You, though, you’ve been enamored with Aaron Hotchner since the day he shook your hand and offered you a job. 

Similarly, you wanted to ask him what he did when he got lost in his own mind; when he himself couldn’t pull himself out of his thoughts. 

So you settled on a breathless “Thank you”. 

Silence reigned once more as Aaron tried to pick out the meaning of your thanks. Where you thanking him for driving you home? For letting you fall asleep on him? For… being one of the best friends you’d ever had in your life without saying it?

When Aaron carried your bag to the door as you unlocked the it, he wondered if there was another universe where he was taking you home every night, going to bed with you, waking up to Jack begging for pancakes with you, dropping Jack off at school with you, and then going to work with you. Maybe, Aaron thought, somewhere in another universe I’m watching the woman I love fall asleep with my child in her arms. 

“Do you… need anything else?” Aaron asked, holding out y/n’s go-bag for her to take. 

Aaron kicked himself. He felt like a school boy whenever you’re around, and the fact that he’s standing in front of you and your home isn’t really helping his nerves.

“Would you maybe want to, uh… stay? For tonight?” Y/n blurted. Aaron’s eyes must have widened because he saw y/n become flustered. “I- you know, just for tonight. I need a ride to work tomorrow anyway… You- You might as well just stay.”

“If you want me to-“

“Please?” 

Aaron stepped into y/n’s house and immediately toed off his shoes. “Where do you want me to put this?” 

“I’ll take it.” She accepted the bag and walked to her room.

Aaron walked around the kitchen. Your house was clean and colorful. You had quite a few photos of the sunset framed by your television, but there were a lot more candid shots of the BAU then of your family. Hm.

“Come here, A,” you called from your room (?).

Dutifully, Aaron followed the sound of your voice, pushing your door open slowly and entering your room. Where you sleep. Where you get dressed and undressed. Where you live.

You walked over to Aaron and handed him a little pile of clothes. “These should fit. I guessed your size. If those don’t fit I have more men’s clothes.” 

“Why do you have men’s clothing?” Aaron asked, a smile toying at his lips. 

“Brothers, boyfriends… they’re comfy,” y/n shrugged. “Does it matter, Aaron?” 

Aaron watched you tilt your head, smirk widening. 

“Just curious.” He defends himself poorly, red tinging his cheeks as he scratches his head.

“Bathroom’s right in there,” you say, pointing to the door attached to your room. 

Aarom walks to your bathroom and shuts the door. He immediately releases a breath of air he hadn’t realize he had been holding. After turning on the lights, he changes into the clothes you gave him. Both owns smelled exactly like you, something that made Aaron smile.

He shut off the light and closed the door. “Thank you, y/n. I appreciate it.”

You looked up from your dresser. “You’d do the same for me. There’s nothing to thank me, Aaron.”

“What are you doing?” Aaron asked, approaching your figure. 

“I don’t think you would want to see me walk around in just a bra and boxers, A,” y/n laughs. 

The bluntness of your answers smacks Aaron in the face with a metal bar. “Boxers?” He finds himself asking.

You just laugh. “They’re comfortable.” 

“You don’t have to change your sleeping routine for me,” Aaron says quietly, eyes looking directly into your own.

“Are you sure?” 

“We’re just sleeping,” Aaron shrugs. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Your eyes flicker between your boss’s and suddenly your wondering how you got here. The line between boss/employee and more-than-friends/not-quite-dating was blurred and you didn’t even remember putting your thumb on how you felt about your boss.

“Okay,” you say slowly. You close the drawer, holding a sports bra and boxers. “I’m gonna go change and go to sleep… Do you want me to set up the couch or just sleep in the bed with me?” 

“What do you want, y/n?”

You direct your gaze to the floor. “I don’t care, honestly.” You weren’t just gonna tell your crush you feel safer when his touch is what lulls you to sleep, that you’ve been in love with him since practically the beginning of time, that you wanted more than just a night (of PG activities!) with him.

“I hear your brain going 200 miles an hour over there, sweetheart. What’re you thinking?” Aaron teases.

“Will you hold me, Aaron?” You ask, urging yourself to look into his eyes. Moment of truth, you think, he’s either gonna laugh in my face or I’m gonna fall even deeper in love with my boss as we cuddle.

Aaron feels winded at your tiny voice. Yes, he wants to scream, yes! “Go get changed, honey. I’ll be right here.” 

Then that smile is back and all Aaron wants to do his pick you up in his arms and kiss you, maybe spin you around the room. His heart swells in his chest again (it’s been doing that a lot lately, he notes) as you pat his arm in thanks as you pass him to head to your bathroom.

Aaron climbs into your bed, setting his essentials (badge, keys, gun, etc.,) on the nightstand. 

You flip off the light switch and pad over to the bed and slip under the covers. 

For what felt like a millennium, Aaron held his breath and waited. 

“Aaron, I have to tell you something. It’s been on my mind and… just hear me out. Please. You don’t have to say anything back and I understand if-“ you babble.

“Take a breath, y/n,” Aaron soothes. “What’s up?”

“I’m in love with you, Aaron Benjamin Hotchner. Like, if I had to choose between you over breathing I would literally spend my last breath telling you how much I love you. You are always on my mind, Aaron, and it hurts because I can’t do anything about it. I know I’m not your type, I know I’m just your co-worker, I know you probably aren’t looking to date anyone, but I just… I want you to know,” you ramble, words tumbling out of your mouth like Reid when he get’s started on some random fact. 

Aaron blinks, pupils widening. “Do you seriously think you’re ‘just a co-worker’ to me?” 

You swallow. “Yeah?”

“Do you think I would let just anyone call me Aaron? How often to you see me taking out Morgan for coffee when he gets cranky? Do I almost always end up sitting by Emily on the flight home after a case? Do I call Spencer ‘sweetheart’ and ‘honey’?” Aaron asks quietly, hand resting on your cheek while he tucks a loc of hair under your ear so he can see your eyes better. “Jack loves you. I love you.” Aaron laughs at how comically large your eyes get.

“Jack loves me?” You ask.

Aaron laughs. “He loves you ‘to the moon and back’.” 

“He loves that book, Aaron, don’t laugh at your baby boy,” you scold playfully.

“I outdo him though, because I love you to Saturn and back.”

You turn to the nightstand and shut the light off before turning back to face Aaron. “Will you hold me, Aaron? Please?” 

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Aaron says, opening his arms to welcome you into him. 

And then that’s when you know his words are true. His heart rate  is definitely elevated, but so is yours. “Will you tell me you love me, again?”

Aaron, now lying on his back with you clinging onto him like a weighted blanket, complied. Carding his fingers through her hair, Aaron lulled her mind off to a quiet, safe place. “I love you, angel,” Aaron whispered, pressing a soft kiss to y/n’s forhead.

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Date Night

Joel Miller x F!Reader

based on this lovely ask. I've added some zest and a lil smut that came out of nowhere cuz why not. Mommy and Daddy are horny when they're alone.

Warnings: unprotected sex, brief breeding kink, car sex, semi-public sex, descriptions of reader's body related to pregnancy

18+ONLY

- - - -

Joel’s been waiting for this night for over a year now. It really shouldn’t take this long to get a date night alone again with the wife after giving birth, but lord knows the Miller family girls were inseparable the minute Sarah let out her first cry into the big world. 

You’ve been the ever attentive Momma, and Joel couldn’t have been more ecstatic to have the perfect trifecta.

But oh my god he needs a minute alone with you again. You wanted to be with Sarah 24/7 and vice versa. And since the little bean turned 3, she’s become more clingy than ever possible. 

Not tonight. He’s made the perfect reservation, had Tommy clear his schedule to babysit for weeks now, and even picked up a gorgeous necklace and matching earrings to compliment adults-only night out. The kids (being Sarah and adult-Tommy) can have their own fun. Joel needs his wife tonight.

“And she gets 30 minutes of TV max okay? Then you have to read her—one second Joel—one of her books, she might pick it out herself, please be patient, she’s gonna keep switching it on you but that’s ok, and then—oh don’t forget her blanket is in the dryer so its extra warm—oOH and Tommy—“

“He’s got, honey,” Joel tuts. Tommy has been approved for babysitting duty before. He trusts him (as far as the neighbor can see into the house not being burned down).

You and Joel are standing in the kitchen, ready to sneak out the back door while Sarah is dancing to the little trolls on the television in her own world.

“Okay,” you whisper. Joel holds the door open as you hesitantly look back. “I”m just gonna give her a quick kiss--“

He looks his arm into yours and hoists you back. “No! She won’t let you go. She’ll be fine. C’mon.”

Joel and you tip toe out and round the garden to the front door with giggles, trying not to stumble over the long grass and patchy holes in the yard.

You’re almost to the car parked in the driveway when you hear screaming from inside, followed by the door opening and a midget Sarah running towards you with a red, tear-stricken face as Tommy is shouting “Hey get back here bug!”

“Mama!” She smashes her face into your dress and wraps her arm around your legs. Her little body trembles with sobs.

“Sarah, Mama’s here, it’s okay.” You pout and crouch down and hug her, cooing away her baby tears. 

Joel makes eye contact with Tommy who’s standing at the front door with an apologetic look. He shakes his head: mission failed. But he’s not giving in so easily.

The toddler sniffles and wipes her cheeks with puffy fists. She grabs your hand and leads you back inside the house, and Joel follows behind.

You sit and watch tv with her for a few minutes but she starts to look sleepy. Joel nudges you again, and you slide off the sofa carefully as can be. This time, you don’t even make it to the door before you feel a strong grip tugging at your dress.

Twice more over the next 40 minutes, Sarah comes screaming towards you, refusing to let you go.

Joel’s given up on the reservation and just hopes the two of you can snag a bar spot at this point.

“I’m sorry, she just keep slipping—“

“She’s got so much fat,” Joel grumbles as you plant fat kisses on her head and sway her side to side in your arms, “There’s no way she just ‘slips’. Just hold her down, Tommy!”

Sarah is glued to your leg, crying as you once again try to leave the house with Joel.

“No!nonononoNONONONONO!” She wails, bitty nails digging into your calf.

Joel gives Tommy a look just as Sarah is rubbing her face on your dress. "SARAH,” he shouts with a stern booming voice. His thick finger points down at her authoritatively. She hiccups, startled, and listens:

"Daddy and Mommy are LEAVING. Do you understand me?"

Her lips wobbles, eyes scrunching into a terrible fit before screeching at the top of her lungs in tears and going to hold you tighter. 

Before she reaches you, Tommy scoops her up by the belly and slings her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes at the same time Joel hoists you over his and takes you to the truck. 

Joel has to drag you to the car as you watch Sarah's teary red face and outstretched arm yelling for you dramatically from Tommy's shoulder before he closes the front door on her.

You sit in the passenger seat timidly. Joel angrily slams the door before rounding towards the driver side.

“Finally,” he grumbles, putting his seatbelt on and turning the ignition.

You sniffle a bit, looking at the window solemnly.

“You’re not crying, are ya?” He asks hesitantly.

“No!” You cry.

He grinds his jaw but continues to put the car in reverse. His warm hand pats along your thigh as you wipe the almost tears from your eyes. You refuse to let your makeup get ruined.

“It’s gonna be fine, Christ, Mama.”

You nod and cross your arms, thinking about your baby girl and her sad tears the entire ride.

-

At the restaurant, Joel managed to get a table despite the hostess grumbling about their lateness. He’s pleased, finally having you to himself, no child at the hip to worry about, just the two of you again like it all started.

He sips his wine and admires the view: you really put forth the effort tonight, your hair blown out and beautifully full, makeup neutral yet with a sexy hint of red lipstick, and the earrings and necklace compliment your looks perfectly.

Not to mention the boner he’s getting from seeing you in such a dress as if you were back in your 20s again.

"You look so beautiful," he says quietly with a smile.

"Yup sure do,” you say curtly, sipping your water quickly and then twiddling the button at the time on the phone.

He grunts disapprovingly. “Can you really not just relax—“

"We've never been apart from her this long!"

"Yes we have. When we both work. She goes to daycare. Tommy has baby sat her before."

"Mmmhgmmgmfmdmdddfgfggrrhrhrr but she--"

“She needs to learn to self sooth on her own. She’s FINE.” He reiterates. Joel refuses for this night, this one night in a very very long time, to be about Sarah! “What about us?"

You pause and look up from your anxious state, turning to a worried, perplexed one instead. “What do you mean? We're fine, aren't we?" You ask hesitantly, and he absolutely catches the wobble in your voice.

"Yes…! Oh honey, no I didn’t mean it like that. I mean... well…  I never get to see just you anymore."

Your eyes soften with remorse and heartfelt appreciation. “That's what happened when you have children, Joel."

"I know I know, and I love her to death, but Jesus I love you too! I loved you first and I miss just having you to myself sometimes too. I feel like I’m competing with her over you.”

You nod in agreement. “I’m sorry. I know I get so worked up. If she had a sister, it'd be so much easier on her.”

“How are we supposed to give her a sister if I can't get 5 seconds alone with you?" 

You hide the little grin on your face just as he dips to catch it with a satisfied smirk. “If that were the case, you would have taken me to a hotel tonight. Not dinner.”

Joel contemplates with wide eyes of realization at his mistaker of venue. “We can get this to-go right now. Can get to the holiday inn in 10 minutes, and I’m sure they got a room for the next few hours—“

You kick his shin and laugh. 

He can’t stop smiling with you. You’re finally relaxed now, and just as radiant as the first day he met you. Same when he married you, and every day you were glowing during the pregnancy. The only moment that beat it was when he saw you first hold your newborn in your arms.

“I can’t stop staring at you,” he admits. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You bite the inside of your lip and check your phone again for the time. Butterflies kick up in your stomach and nestle somewhere south that has your your thighs clenching together. Throwing your hand up in the air to signal the waiter: “Can I get a to-go for this? We have somewhere to be, right now.”

-

You couldn’t manage to wait for the drive to the hotel. Forcing Joel to pull over on the side of some empty backroad, crawling into his lap and stripping his jacket just as you grind your panty-clad core into his slacked-bulge. 

“Fuck, oh my god,” he groans, pulling you flush against him and kissing you deeply. Both your hands are busy trying to undo the other’s clothes—his fingers working to unzip your dress, revealing your smooth back, breasts on display for groping. At the same time you nimbly fight each of his buttons to push your palms against his broad chest. Fighting to suck in air between each forceful kiss. Entangled in one another like horny teenagers.

“I miss this,” he hums against your cheek just as you reposition your underwear to the side with one hand, fisting his cock out of his slacks with the other. His hands glide over your ass, patting your cheek once, ruffling the slit in your dress.

“Me too,” you snicker, finally settling his tip at your entrance. “I miss being able to straddle you without a belly,” you add quickly, and he almost laughs were it not for the synchronous moan you both let out as you sink down on his length fully.

Your eyes flutter, but a gentle grasp of your jaw pulls your face just an inch from his. “I want you to watch me,” he groans. “Watch me make love to you.” Your lips hover over his plump ones as you begin to slowly rock up and down along his massive cock. “That’s it, that’s my wife. So good f’me.”

You nod, whimpering softly. Each little hump pushes his tip deeper, nudging your g-spot effortlessly.

“So full,” you whine.

“You take it so good, baby. Always have.” His arms wrap securely around your hips as you grind on one another. He really was made for you. Your walls always fit like a glove around him, just tight enough to make him nearly blow his load each time were it not for an extreme amount of effort to avoid it. Every change to your body since having Sarah has only made his lips and hands hungrier to feel, the new dips and curves, soft plush areas just begging to be grasped by him. He wants it, wants you and so much more.

“Joel,” you warn, keening with little high pitched etches caught in your throat. “M’gonna cum.”

“Me too,” he rasps. “Gonna do it inside. You gonna take it?”

You nod, tears of euphoria welling in your eyes as you whimper.

“Gonna put another baby in ya? Right fuckin’ here, in my truck behind a restaurant? That how you want it? Dirty dirty girl, holy fuck—“

You gasp, your entire boy trembling against him as you cum. He captures your lips before you let out your moan, walls contracting around him until he feels his lower tummy snap. Balls twitching, he grunts into your mouth as he spills his generous seed deep into your womb. It’s so much, so pent up, so drawn out. 

It’s the best mind-clearing cure you’ve ever had. 

You collapse forward on him, slouched and panting against his sweaty neck. Your soft lips connect with his collarbone. He pecks your forehead, brushing the hair from your face.

It’s not comfortable at all, scrunched up here in his car. neither of you are nearly as young as the recent activity suggest, but with his strong arms wrapped lovingly around you, the fog blurring the windows and separating the two of you from the rest of the world, you could stay like this forever.

It’s quiet in Joel’s arm. Just the two of you—

His phone buzzes in his pocket and you fish out the device.

12 missed calls from Tommy.

You sit straight up and hit your head on the roof. “Ow!” 

But there’s no time to hurt, not when Tommy’s last text message isa jumbled mess : ‘45ssfgh5 vi w2434467777$$75%refft+..87’ 

“Oh my God! OhmyGod—OHMYGOD— Joel, we need to go home right fucking now! What if they’re incoherent? What if something crashed into the house? What if it’s a fire? What if someone broke in—!”

He wipes his face with both hands. Truth is, he knew his phone was going off all night, but if you weren’t getting any messages, then it couldn’t have been an emergency. It was best to deliberately ignore whatever Tommy, a grown adult, couldn’t figure out on his own.

“Alright alright. We’ll go—“

“HURRY THE FUCK UP!” You scratch, setting into the passenger seat and reaching to turn the keys for him.

He slaps your hand away offensively before tucking his softened, creamy cock back inside his trousers and speeding back home.

Low and behold, as you nearly trip out of the car towards the house (the very intact, not on fire, not broken into, normal looking house just as you left it,) you stumble into the front door to see Tommy passed out on the couch with a drooling Sarah propped up against his shoulder.

Clutched in her tiny hands is Tommy’s massive phone that is the side of her arm, with Joel’s contact open and a half jumbled message of random letters and numbers still half written before she must have fallen asleep.

You sigh heavily.

Joel comes in right after you and chuckles as you catch your breath. You smack him on the shoulder. 

“Probably shouldn’t wake her,” he whispers to you with a peck to the lips. You pout but obey, not wanting to make a scene right as she’s asleep.

He walks over to his younger brother and flicks his forehead.

“M’up!” He mumbles.

“You’re supposed to put her to bed before you fall asleep.” He scoops his sleepy baby into his arms and carries her off to her room, leaving the door cracked.

Joel escorts Tommy out just as you unlatch your earring. You glance back towards her room, the light from the kitchen illuminating a sliver of the bed, and Sarah has somehow miraculously disappeared.

You’re running out after Joel, who’s opening Tommy’s truck door just as you both see something waddling in the dark and getting into the back seat by herself.

“Sarah!” 

The toddler rubs her sleepy eyes but doesn’t respond, just sits quietly in uncle Tommy’s truck with the lap belt pulled over her seat.

Joel, on the other hand, sees the opportunity to get you alone, loud, and spread out in bed all to himself for the rest of the night. “Yes, take her!" He encourages. Tommy grumbles with his hands on his hips.

You shake your head in disbelief and shove past him. “Sarah no! Mommy's home! Let's cuddle—“

"No." She says plainly. "I go to MeeMee now."

"No! You stay with Mommy!" You cry. 

She shakes her head again more defiantly, but her little voice cracks as just mumbles. “You lef me!”

Your heart is cracking in a million pieces, chest aching so badly as water blurs your vision. “I’m sorry! Please I won't do it ever again!"

"No!"

"You're never watching my child again. Thomas!” you seethe at defenseless Tommy.

 Now you and Sarah are crying and hyperventilating in the driveway at 10pm.

"Daddy made me!" You wail like a baby yourself. sounding almost indistinguishable from Sarah now. Fat tears spill down both of your faces, sagged shoulders twitching with each sniffle. 

You and Sarah both huff and wipe your puffy red eyes. 

Finally, Sarah speaks up with her little sobs subsided: “Daddy go to MeeMee and Mommy and RaRa stay home.”

“Deal. Joel, pack your bags,” you say plainly, straightening up and reaching out for Sarah, who gladly accepts you in her arms. 

As you walk with her on your hip back to the house without another word, Tommy glances back in amusement.

And just like that, Joel was #2 again.

-

Joel fluffs the flat pillow on Tommy’s bed. The two of them sharing the full mattress since the younger brother only just moved into his new apartment, not having picked up any other furniture at the moment except for his tiny ass mattress.

"You think this is real funny don't you,” Joel grumbles. He tugs on the blanket and shifts uncomfortably over to his side, facing away.

Tommy chuckles and wipes his face, trying to clear the soreness from his cheeks after laughing all the way home. “Hell yeah. You wanted that, all of it, remember?"

Joel just grins happily, subconsciously twirling the gold band on his ring finger. He checks his phone one last time, the picture of you and Sarah as an infant in his arms smiling up at him. "Yeah. Yeah I do." 

-

 He’s achy and exhausted when comes back home in the early morning. Tommy had kicked him off the bed in his sleep, so the older brother just walked home for 20 minutes.

 It’s not until he sees you and Sarah curled up on his bed together, her little pjs riled up over her fat belly, fist clutched above her head, and you with your protective hand around her hip, nose buried in her hair, breathing so softly in unison, that he can't imagine anything better. He kisses both your heads before walking back towards door.

There’s a little rustle and patter noise behind him, and Joel stops, almost shouting and jumping up when he turns to see little Sarah standing on his heels looking up to him. She points to the bed with very pouty lips and tired yet steamy eyes. Joel takes her hand and she guides him to the bed.

She clutches the side and hoists herself up with all her might before Joel joins in on his vacant side. Two tubby fingers grip his cheeks and pull him to stare directly into her soul a she says clearly: “Don’t ever take Mama away again. You understan me?" With a fat digit pointed inches from his eyeball.

He swallows and nods fearfully: “Yes ma’am". 

Switching on a dime, his babygirl smiles gently and kisses his scruffy cheek. Her little head settles onto his shoulder just as he tucks her between the two of you, curling around her and nuzzling himself into your hair.

He sighs heavily and feels himself falling asleep, his family finally wrapped up into his arms. 

"Daddy," Sarah says after 12 seconds of silence, rubbing her eyes. “Chocwit pancakes."

Your head jolts up and you hazily grumble, “Ooo pancakes yes please! Can you put chocwit chips in them?" 

You fall back onto the pillow, pulling Sarah back into your arms with a content, lazy smile.

He rolls his eyes and crawls out of bed just as Sarah and you cuddle closer together and fall back asleep.

 - - - - 

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[blackice-nsfw]

imagine getting fucked by your pack of werewolves, over a dozen strong, emptying their balls into you over and over again as they pound into you relentlessly chasing their own pleasure but not allowed to knot you. Their dicks are the biggest ones you've ever taken, stretching you to the brink and stretching you even more as they bully themselves inside of you, shoving their knots in and out until you scream for release, to finally have a knot inside of you, but they always stop right as their knots press against you, never pushing further.

Each of them are so thick they grind against all the right stops inside of you, making you moan and wail as they use you, face down and ass up, tied to the tree stump as you are. Even when you slump down in exhaustion their big clawed hands grab your hips hard enough to bruise as they bully their length into you, howling as they bottom out and start a relentless pace. You don't know how long it's been going on, the full moon shining above you as the puddle of cum keeps dripping out of you unto the ground, mixing with your own release as they kept going on and on without rest. You were deep into your orgasm, a knot halfway inside you as an intimating snarl echoed in the clearing.

The werewolf alpha, the biggest one of the whole pack, shoved the lower ranking werewolf off of you, ripping his knot out of you. Your empty hole clenched around nothing, used to the size and shape of them by now, moaning to be filled again. The moment the alpha pressed the head of his cock against you, you knew you were taking in more than you could chew. Just the head felt bigger than the knots that were pressed against your hole all night. He was huge. You wondered if you'd break. But he kept pushing in, pressing himself deeper than you ever thought possible, the cum from all the other making the slide easier.

The alpha growled as his cock hit resistance, pushing you head down unto the tree trunk. "I let all my wolves use you tonight. You will take me to the hilt."

You wailed as he bullied his cock deeper, with stronger thrusts than all the other before. Your hole was stretched beyond what you thought was even possible, clenching around his dick and the small protrusion of his knot. He chuckled slightly, pushing deeper. "There you go. Such a perfect cunt for us. I'm sure you'd like to pleasure us even outside of the full moon. Still so tight, trying to milking my cock."

The alpha pushed you down on the tree trunk, a clawed hand pressing into your skin, threatening to pierce if you moved. The other kept your hips raised as he started a brutal pace, Everytime he thrusted into you, your breath was punched out of you lungs from the savage pressure inside of you. It wasn't long before you wailed on his cock, gripping him in a vice grip as you came, being overstimulated and begging for him to slow down. But he ignored you.

"C'mon, you're our bitch now, we can use you however we want. And right now I want you to milk my knot as much as possible before I fuck you again and again." the alpha said as he thrusted even deeper, making you cry out as you came again, the third time in a handful of minutes on his massive cock.

As he kept pounding into you, releasing pleased grunts into the night, you could feel something change. Everytime he bottomed out, a pressure was pressed against your hole, insistent, constant. You had felt knots from the other werewolves, but nothing like this. It felt so big. So thick. As your insides were bullied into giving you another orgasm you could faintly think of what that would mean.

You only felt fully inflated knots before from all the other werewolves. They were thick and could've slipped right into you as they came over and over again. But this? It felt bigger than a fist, bigger than anything you had ever taken inside of you, and you were just gangbanged by a pack of werewolves. It kept pressing against you with more and more strength, harder thrusts, wanting to bury itself inside you as the alpha panted over your shoulder, repeating how good you are for him, how tight you still are after taking all of his pack.

A last thrust punched all the oxygen out of your lungs as the biggest thing you ever taken was shoved inside you and kept inflating.

You wailed and thrashed as the alpha kept you in place, bullying his knot in and out of your tight hole even as you wailed in pleasure, tears running down your face as hot cum filled the limited remaining space in your hole, the knot so big it was stopping anything from spilling out, no cum would be wasted while you were knotted on the alpha's cock.

He bent down and licked your cheek when the torrent of cum finally stopped, comforting you. "If you think we're done yet, the full moon is not even at half mast in the sky. I'll keep using you until I'm bored, and I'll let the pack use you as they want until I'm ready to go again."

[aurorawritestoescape]

THE BURGLARY

written with @milla-frenchy

Pairing: burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller

Summary: two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

TW: 18+ mdni. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. NON-CON. Smut. Violence, suffocation, knife/gun play, penetration with a gun, mfm, bondage, degradation, praise, oral (male receiving), a depraved game, butt and pussy slapping, unprotected piv, creampies, cum eating, swearing.

Word count: 4,6k

A/n: @milla-frenchy and I wrote this fic as our contribution to Dead Dove December by @romana-after-dark. Romana, thank you for hosting this amazing event celebrating dark fic! @milla-frenchy I had so much fun writing with you! I love you, baby!❤️🫂Dividers by @saradika-graphics

If you’re sensitive to any of the warnings, do not read the fic! We don’t condone the actions of the characters. It is all fictional!

MILLA’S MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

You’re standing in front of the bathroom mirror, the sound of water filling the tub is calming and hypnotizing. You’re wearing nothing but a pink robe, soft and warm. You untie it and open it wide before your gaze travels down to your breasts. You cup them gently and rub the nipples with your thumbs. They perk up at the touch and you flutter your eyes shut as the waves of arousal are spreading through every nerve in your body. One hand leaves your breast and glides down to caress your tummy and then mound. You dip your finger in between your folds and swirl it around your slightly wet clit. When you open your eyes, the mirror reflects your blown pupils back to you. You contemplate getting your vibrator from the drawer and using it in the bath. Your husband is away on a business trip and he won’t be back for a few more days but the idea of waiting for him to satisfy your desire excites you so you take a deep breath trying to calm down.

You take the robe off and hang it next to the sinks. You turn around, come up to the already full tub and bend over to check the water temperature. This is when he grabs you.

The iron grip of his hand is holding your wrists behind your back. His bulge is pushing in between your naked asscheeks. He’s big and strong and you’re helpless against him. He’s keeping you bent over the full bath and then pushes your torso down. Your head is submerged in the tub and you scream and thresh about but your cries are completely silenced by the water suffocating you. Your attempts to break free are fruitless. His fist is clenching your hair and it burns like hell but the pain in your burning lungs overshadows everything else. You’re trying to free yourself from his hold, to kick him and push him away but his beastly strength doesn’t let you.

You’re about to black out when he lifts your head by your hair and your mouth finally takes a life-giving breath. You cough and cry trying to get as much oxygen as he lets you and exclaim, “No, no, stop it, please!”

He growls and pulls your torso up and flush against his chest. You’re covered in water droplets, already cold and shivering but for another reason. The stranger might kill you and the thought makes you tremble and beg for mercy,

“I’ll give you everything, I’ll do anything! Pls let me go..”

You’re crying and screaming but he’s deaf to your pleas. You feel his breath on your cheek and he bites it. He doesn’t break the skin but the pain makes you wail. The man shakes your body and laughs, “Silly girl, the louder you scream the harder it’ll make me.”

Your back is pressed to his broad chest and your whole body is shaking as if electricity is going through every part of you.

“I saw you touching yourself, little slut. Made me hard like a rock,” he bucks his hips into your ass and you feel his clothed hard-on. “I coulda just taken what I wanted and left. But now I think I’ll take this pussy too.” He slaps your mound a little harder than a lover would and a whine escapes your lips.

“Started without me?”

You feel even more terrified if it’s even possible when you hear another voice.

“Nah, just gave this pretty slut a wash. Don't wanna touch her husband's crusted cum on her. We gonna leave our own.”

“Right, brother.” They laugh and you feel you might be sick. It can’t be happening. The sobs are shaking your body as you’re trying to turn your head to the side so you could see the new man.

“Please, let me go,” you plead, hoping the other intruder will be kinder to you.

The first attacker yanks your whole body to the side, turning you away from the tub so you’d face the second man. Your tears make his image blurry, resembling a dark shadow. He’s wearing all black and his face is hidden behind a balaclava. He sounds younger than the other one and is not as huge but he’s still bigger than you. He comes up close, takes your wet cheeks between his gloved fingers and pushes making your lips pout. You mewl and they both laugh. His other hand darts to your mound and he grabs your pussy squeezing your flesh with his harsh fingers. You whine and he looks at the other attacker over your shoulder, “She’s so soft and pretty. Can’t wait to use her.”

His accomplice hums in agreement, pressing his covered chin to your cheek and rubbing your delicate skin with the material of his mask, “need her to open the safe first.”

The second man agrees and steps out of the way while you’re being pushed to the door and into the master bedroom. You walk clumsily but as soon as you reach the doorframe you push all your weight to the side making your capturer crash into the door. Startled for a moment he eases his grip on you and you launch forward. The wetness of your body helps you to slip out of his hands and you’re running out of the room and along the hall crying for help as loud as you can.

Thoughts rush through your head as you realize that you need to get out of the house. So you race to the stairs but as soon as you reach them a hand grips your hair and pulls you back. It hurts and you try to break free but the man overpowers you with ease, drops his weight on you and you both fall on the floor. He grumbles and you realize that it’s the second intruder. He grabs your hands and ties your wrists behind your back with a rope.

“Stop, please, no!” you cry out, feeling pain in your scalp and body but the ache is dull as all your senses are fully focused on survival.

“Slippery bitch!” the younger man spits out and having restrained your hands, sits up on the back of your thighs panting heavily. He slaps your naked asscheek and you sob, tears soaking the carpet.

You hear steps and the first man comes up to you from the side. “Nice try, little slut,” he mocks you, pushing your shoulder lightly with the tip of his black boot. He orders to take you back to the bedroom.

You’re sitting on the floor in front of the safe in your walk-in closet. The men are towering behind you not afraid of you running away as your hands are securely restrained and you look and feel exhausted from the nerves and your attempts to break free.

The bigger man crouches next to you and his gloved fingers grasp your hair. Like a puppeteer he turns your head to him and rumbles, “Password, sweetie.” You begin saying the numbers immediately not seeing the point in protecting your valuables while your life is at stake.

“Please, take everything, just let me go… please,” you beg with a shaking voice but a carnal grin flashes in the opening of his balaclava and panic grips your heart.

“Open your pretty mouth, sweetheart,” he coos at you with a fake care as the other man chuckles and you see him bringing a knife to your face. It looks like a switchblade. You start pleading and crying again, horrifying images flooding your mind. Not waiting for you to calm down, the intruder turns the knife handle up and inserts it into your mouth.

“Hold it,” he orders, “just imagine it’s your husband’s dick. Bite it real hard, I’m sure you’re mad at him for leaving you alone now.”

He pushes your head down to the safe and you bend over awkwardly trying not to fall, knife between your teeth.

You hear the other man’s voice, “Press the buttons for us, princess, come on,” his voice is soft but it makes your hair stand up.

You sob and the knife nearly falls out of your mouth but you clench your teeth around it more tightly and bring the blade to the buttons.

“That’s our girl,” the first man mumbles, as his hand in your hair keeps you from falling.

You push the numbers with the tip of the blade and hear beeps. “You have a nice ass, baby,” the second intruder comments, apparently ogling your butt while you are bending over. You hear a click of the safe door and they push you out of the way hurrying to get their hands on the things they came for. At least you hope they came just for that.

You look up at them, wondering what they're going to do to you. You still hope they will leave, now that you've opened the safe for them.

You try not to panic and focus on your breathing. You can see their dark eyes through the openings of their balaclavas. They look at each other communicating without a word, and then the bigger one turns to you.

“How much time do we have?” he asks his accomplice, his gaze locked with yours.

“Half an hour, easy,” the other man replies.

Your hairs stand up and your breath catches in your throat. You feel that your brain is trying to convince itself that they are not going to hurt you more. You don't dare imagine what they are capable of.

The younger one grabs you by both arms and forces you to get up.

“We have plenty of time to have a little fun,” he laughs, dragging you towards your bedroom. You try to resist, but in vain. He turns around and pushes you against the wall. His hand grips your throat and you watch him in fear as he removes his balaclava. He has brown, shoulder-length wavy hair, and a mustache. The fact that he is uncovering his face terrifies you. These men don't care if you can describe them, and you wonder if you will make it out alive.

He brings his face closer to yours, to the point where your noses could touch, and leans his pelvis against you. You feel his hard cock on your lower belly and the last hope your mind was trying to cling to is now gone. He tilts his head to the side and smiles, looking at you. You hear his brother laugh behind him and say “you’re a fuckin’ psycho, Tommy.” He takes off his balaclava as well, and his face appears behind his brother. He has short, brown hair, a light beard and a mustache. You try to memorize their faces, in case you can describe them to the police. Later.

That “later” fades away when Tommy moves closer to your cheek and slowly licks his way to your cheekbone. You start shaking like a leaf and he laughs, unties your hands behind your back, and grabs your arm before tugging you after him. He pushes you onto the bed, where you fall on your back.

You try to get up, but the other man pulls a gun out of the back of his jeans and points it at you,

“You’re starting to piss me off, sweetheart, so I’m gonna set things straight. We'll fuck you and then we’ll leave. If you struggle, you'll turn us on even more. If you scream, we'll fuck you harder. Do I make myself clear?”

His icy voice, his words stop you and you lie down again. He hands the gun to Tommy and says “I’m gonna need my hands.”

You widen your eyes when he unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock. Thick. Much too big.

“Oh, sweetie, judging by your reaction, your husband has a small dick,” he says, laughing again. His brother chuckles too and adds, “She’s so not ready for our cocks, Joel.” He grabs your legs and pulls them towards him to lay you down.

Joel approaches the bed, slowly jerking off, and kneels on the bed at your side, before bringing his cock closer to your face, “Now you’re gonna suck me off, sweetheart. And after any dumb move from you, my brother will blow your brains out, ok?”

You nod. Your only hope now is that they end this quickly. You try to put aside another source of anxiety that is gnawing at your heart - their uncovered faces.

Joel taps your face with his cock twice before you part your lips slightly, and he says "Sweetie, open wide, or it ain’t gonna fit". You hold back the tears that are stinging your eyes, and you open your mouth wider. He slides the tip into your mouth, and you round your lips around it. He doesn't wait any longer, and sinks into you, holding your head in his hands.

He stops halfway down his member, then pulls back, before thrusting in with one stroke, making you choke. You hear Tommy laugh and can no longer hold back your tears as panic overtakes you and amplifies your suffocation. “Stop it, Tommy, you’re scaring the little thing!” Joel says with a chuckle.

He pulls out of your mouth and releases your head, and you feel Tommy get between your thighs. You murmur, “No, please”, but Joel adds, “Come on, sweetheart, my little brother needs to get his dick wet, too, right?”

Tommy rubs his cock against your folds, then against your clit. His tip rubs it several times, and to your horror you feel your pussy getting wet.

“Little slut is so wet for our cocks, Joel, can you believe it?”

“They always are. All fuckin’ whores.”

Tommy pulls back a little and looks at his cock, before slowly pushing it into your pussy, and growls "Fuck...she's tight, man." You wince as you feel your folds parted.

“Point your gun at her. I’m gonna fuck her throat, I don’t want her to do anything stupid.”

Tommy cocks his gun at your head and starts fucking you, thrusting deeper. Joel grabs your temples with his hands again, and his erect cock sinks in your mouth. He grips your head tighter, and quickly fucks your mouth, grunting. Your saliva pools against his member, and he is thrusting deeper and deeper, at the same pace as his brother is fucking your pussy. His cock hits the back of your throat, and he suddenly pauses, holding your nose pressed against his pubes.

“Don’t move, sweetie.”

You try to calm down, your mind in shock at what’s happening to you. In your home, where you should be safe. He finally pulls away, before thrusting in again, yet not going all the way to your throat.

“You’re taking us good, baby”, Tommy says, leaning over you and pressing his nose to your neck, the gun against your temple.

Still fucking your mouth, Joel tells his brother,“Stretch her with the gun. The handle. Let’s see if her little pussy can take it. Afraid I’ll split her in two with my cock.”

You want to scream, your mouth full of Joel’s cock, but only a vague moan leaves your mouth.

“And I’m the psycho?” Tommy laughs, pulling out and sitting up.

Joel pulls out too, and moves away from you with his hard cock in his hand, watching Tommy position the handle of the gun at your entrance with one gloved hand, and pressing your stomach with the other to hold you against the bed. He pushes gently and you cry out, “No, please stop, it won’t fit!”

“We’ll make it fit. You’re wet enough to take it.”

He keeps pushing, and the tip of the handle sinks into you.

“Say ‘thank you’ to Tommy for stretching you, sweetheart.”

You feel like you're going to pass out. You look at their faces, their eyes fixed on your pussy dilated around the gun, and you try to relax. A part of you wants to rebel and fight, but the other one takes over, knowing that you have no way out of this.

“Look, Joel, she's dripping. Good that we’re using the handle, she woulda ruined the barrel with her wetness,” Tommy comments and they laugh again degrading you.

“Ok, pull it out. She’s ready. Gonna fuck her now”, Joel says and adds, “Get on all fours.”

You don't move, too scared at the idea of what happens next, and Tommy points the muzzle at your forehead. Your tears start to fall again and you finally turn around, exposing your ass to Joel and standing on your hands and knees on the bed.

“I forgot that you had such a nice ass, sweetie!”

“Please… don’t do that”, you whimper with sobs in your voice.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna damage your ass. Don’t have the time for that. There’s one more thing we’ll have to do, after we’re done with you.”

You don't have time to ask or even think what they want to do next, Tommy is already on the bed pressing his cock against your mouth. Joel grabs your hips with his hands, and thrusts into you in one swift move. You suffocate under the intrusion, and Tommy pushes his cock in between your lips.

“Come on, baby, be a good girl and let me fuck this wet hole of yours,” Joel mumbles opening your thighs wider and begins fucking you with quick thrusts. Then he slides his hand down to your clit and you try to shake your head, but Tommy holds you tight, his cock buried in your mouth.

Joel coos at you, “Come on, sweetheart, wanna feel your pussy squeeze my big cock.”

You try to resist, but his finger slides against your clit perfectly. You tell yourself that it will end faster if he gets what he wants and let your mind retreat, and the emotions in your body take over. You feel your orgasm building, and your pussy begins to contract.

“Tommy… little slut is clenching my dick so hard, and she hasn't come yet”, he groans with a smile.

Tommy pulls your hair with his hand, and pushes his cock into your mouth one more time, before pulling out, gloved fingers clasped around his shaft. You moan, and cum on Joel's cock while your eyes roll back and your legs are shaking. He’s groaning, feeling your spasms around his cock, “Fuckin’ hell, little slut must be so bored with her husband.”

Tommy’s carnal gaze is sliding down your body and he looks manic when he lifts his eyes at Joel and asks with a smile, “wanna play like that time?”

Joel looks back at him, pulls out of your crying pussy and chuckles, “you’re fucking crazy, brother.”

“Why?” Tommy mumbles running his gloved hand through your messy hair. He looks right into your eyes drinking your fear and his cock twitches.

“The last one wanted it. This one looks too gentle.”

Tommy leans over you bringing his face so close you smell cigarettes on his breath and tells Joel,

“She might surprise us, brother. I’m sure she’s freaky. Aren’t you, princess?”

He grabs your pussy and you gasp. Your gaze darts to Joel who watches his brother’s fingers massage your wet folds and begins stroking his cock,

“Fuck, yeah, let’s do it. If she chokes my cock till I come… might spare her.”

You hear his words and sobs are about to break out of your chest but Tommy senses it and places his free hand over your mouth, “we’ll play one game, princess and then we’ll leave, deal?”

He’s waiting for the answer but you can’t agree without knowing what this psycho means so you just stare at him with fearful eyes.

He straightens up glancing at his brother, “Fuck, I forgot I don’t have to ask cos I have this,” he takes out a gun from his waistband and waves it at you.

“On your mark, brother,” he says to Joel and the bigger man grabs your legs and pulls you roughly on the bed towards him. His cock pushes between your folds and you moan.

“See! The whore loves it!” Tommy points at your with his gun, triumphant smile on his face and you feel a tip of a cock thrust into you. Joel’s huge member parts your folds again and you plead for him to stop but he doesn’t hold back as its head jams right into your cervix after a couple of deep and hard thrusts.

“Hey, hey, Joel. You’ll come too soon! Where’s fun in that?”

Joel pauses his movements deep inside you and you look at the men with confusion and fear twisting your face. What game are they going to play with you? And are you going to survive it?”

“Ready?” Tommy asks and you catch your breath waiting for the worst. Then Tommy leans down a little and slaps your pussy with his leathered palm, just a few inches from the place where his brother’s cock is buried deep inside you. You cry out when the pain catches you off guard and to your horror realize that it’s quickly mixing with pressure. Joel grunts shutting his eyes for a second and then opens them to glance at his brother, “Fuck, you were right. She’s squeezing me real good. Fucking chocking my cock, little slut.”

You sense your walls contract around his girthy length and you hate yourself for it. “That’s just one”, Tommy warns as he lands another blow to your tortured pussy. “Two,” he counts and you mewl, your eyes rolling back while Joel’s groaning through his teeth and plants his hands on the bed at your sides.

“What is it, brother? She’s so pretty and sweet that you’re about to come already?” Tommy mocks the man and Joel looks up at him with a pained and angry expression.

Tommy backs off with his hands in the air still chuckling and then comes back to slap your clit again.

As soon as he says, “Three” you feel warmth filling your pussy up as Joel is coming with a long growl grasping your hips leaving white marks on your soft skin. He starts thrusting into your core again pumping you full of his spend and you feel sick when your core is tightening. You won’t come. You won’t give it to him.

“Holy fuck, princess, you have a magic pussy. To make my bro bust a nut just after three slaps!” He laughs and takes your head in his hands kissing your mouth. First as a joke he pecks your lips but after parting from you for a second he comes back for more as his tongue pushes between your lips. You freeze when he’s stealing another part of you, licking into your mouth while his brother prolongs his climax with short thrusts into your swollen pussy.

Finally Tommy parts from you and straightens up grabbing his cock. “Fuck, Joel, my turn. This bitch is so hot.” He looks into your eyes while Joel pulls out his semi hard cock, and you feel his cum leaking out of your stretched hole and slide down to your asshole.

The men switch positions and now Joel is standing over you while Tommy gets on the bed between your shaking legs. He sits on his heels staring at your hole and says in a calm but stern voice, “Squeeze it out, princess.” It’s so sick that you’re blinking at him until suddenly he directs his gun at you and repeats his command a little louder, “I said squeeze out the cum, little slut!”

You swallow loudly and tighten your muscles. With a satisfied grin he’s watching a string of milky liquid flow out of your hole.

“We need to hurry up,” Joel rumbles, zipping up his pants.

“Yeah, yeah…” Tommy replies, seemingly deaf to his brother’s words, his gaze fully focused on your pussy.

Still having his gloves on he brings his hand to your folds and pushes two fingers into your hole. Then he takes them out and climbs over your body. Without a word be pushes the leathered digits between your lips,with an order, “Clean them up, princess.” You do as you’re told, tasting Joel’s bitter cum and leather on your tongue.

“Good slut,” Tommy half praises half degrades you watching your tongue swirl around his covered digits.

“Fuck, Tommy, come on!” Joel hurries up his brother and the younger man finally listens, gets between your thighs and pushes his cock in with a growl. He slides in easily, your pussy wet with Joel’s cum and stretched out well.

“Come on, baby, let’s win this thing,” he says and you mewl, knowing what’s coming next.

Joel’s hand hits your pussy harsher than Tommy’s and you jolt from the pain. The younger man is hissing through his teeth looking at your swollen reddish folds. He shivers and grips your hips tighter. “Fuck you’re choking my cock, baby!”

Joel doesn’t wait long to stroke you again and a tear slides down the side of your face. Tommy shuts his eyes tilting his head back and as another slap lands on your poor clit you moan and squeeze Tommy’s cock so well it pushes him over. His balls tighten and he shoots his cum deep inside your core. His seed mixes with Joel’s and it’s too much cum for your poor pussy so it leaks out of you in globs pushed out by Tommy’s cock still moving inside you. When he stills panting heavily, he pulls out and announces, “Three-three, bro! Guess we’re both suckers for her pussy”. He tucks his cock away hastily and when he’s ready he leans over your swollen mound and gives it a peck, whispering, “killer-pussy!”

Joel is already gathering the things they’re taking with them and you’re lying not moving a muscle wishing for them to forget about you and leave. But soon Joel comes up to the bed and you see a phone in his hand. He reaches to your face and you flinch, “Shhh, sweetheart, it’s gonna be over soon. Just wanna take a few photos, for the memories,” he mocks you with a smirk trying to fix your messy hair and wiping your face with his sleeve.

“Give me, I’ll do it,” Tommy appears from behind Joel taking the phone from his brother. He directs the camera at your face and commands, “Smile, princess, show us how happy you’re that we’re leaving.”

You smile weakly and he takes a few photos of you splayed on the bed, marks covering your skin. He makes you open your legs and takes a photo of your pussy leaking out their spend on your marital bed. Then he’s checking the photos and mumbles talking to you ,

“You’re a great fuck, princess. Can’t believe your asshole of a husband gets to have you whenever he wants…he’ll have a hard time filling your pussy after we stretched you that good,” he laughs and adds, “we might come back for more one day.” He says it in a seemingly benign manner looking into your eyes but you see a threat rooted in his words. “Keep your little mouth shut and forget our faces or these pictures of you will be everywhere. Surely your hubby will have to say bye-bye to his political career. You got me?” His gaze is serious and intent and you nod hastily.

Your heart is beating fast when you see Tommy take black bags from Joel. Will they keep their promise and leave you alive?

“Take care, princess,” you hear Tommy’s voice as he puts his balaclava back on and walks out of the door. Joel doesn’t say anything. With his face already covered he heads to the door, stops right outside and turns his head to you. He brings his gloved finger to his lips in a silent sign, and then leaves as quietly as he came.

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!❤️

[woso-dreamzzz]

Anger III

Vicky Losada x Putellas!Reader

Summary: It was meant to be a quiet night

You rolled over in bed with a groan and shoved your face into the pillow.

Over the monitor, you heard wailing.

You reached your hand out blindly and slapped at Vicky.

"Vicky," You hissed, still sleep addled and groggy," Vicky...Vicky!"

She woke with a start. "Huh? What is it?" She seemed to realise the screaming coming from the baby monitor. She yawned. "I'll get her."

"I should hope so," You said," It's your turn."

You'd only just brought your baby home. Little Sofia Losada had been blessed with a healthy set of lungs at birth that kept you up at every hour of the night.

You could hear on the baby monitor the moment that Vicky opened the door to Sofia's room and slipped inside. There was a brief rustle of sheets and then you could hear your wife over the screeching of your baby.

"Alright, you," Vicky said," Let's see what's wrong."

You sighed in relief and buried your face back in your sheets as the cries quietened. You were relaxed and happy in the warmth of your bed and the sweet silence as Sofia got comfort. You began to drift off happily until you heard your phone ringing.

You thought about ignoring it but, when the call dropped, it picked up almost immediately again.

You groaned and reached for it, refusing to open your eyes. "Hello?"

"Heeey." The voice was slurred and thick.

You squeezed your eyes as tight as possible, hoping that this was all just a horrible dream. "Alba, I thought you were with Alexia."

"I am! Ale! Ale! Say hi!"

"Hiiii." Alexia's voice was slurred too and you finally opened your eyes.

You pulled on a jumper and some socks, slipping into your favourite pair of slippers. "Where are you?"

Alba rattled off the name of the bar they had gotten drunk at and you swore at them under your breath as you headed to the door.

You met Vicky out in the hallway. Sofia was in her arms, eyes almost completely closed as the lack of sleep caught up with her. "Hey, you didn't have to get up," Your wife said," We're okay here. Go back to bed."

"I can't," You said apologetically," My stupid sisters are stranded and drunk. I'm going to go pick them up." You pressed a kiss to her lips and then another one to Sofia's head, brushing down her little baby curls. "I'll be home soon."

It was a quick drive to your sisters and a much longer task trying to get them into your car. You wrangled Alexia in first, firmly telling off your oldest sister when she tried to unbuckle herself from the passenger seat.

It was much harder to get Alba in. She wanted to go back to the bar and have another shot but you manhandled her into your car where she promptly burst into tears when she noticed Sofia's car seat was empty.

"The baby!" She cried," The baby!"

"Where's our baby?" Alexia asked, rolling her head to look at you like her neck suddenly couldn't hold it up.

"You mean my baby? At home, where you're both going to drink a litre of water each and share the bed in the spare room."

Alba stubbornly kicked the back of your seat. "We're adults! We don't need to share with each other!"

"Then one of you will sleep on the floor," You told her, reaching around your seat to slap her back.

You managed to get both of your drunk sisters up the driveway and through the front door.

"Be quiet," You hissed as Alexia tripped over the side table," My baby and my wife are trying to sleep!"

"Baby Sofia!" Alba cried as a light turned on and Vicky appeared in the hallway, watching on in amusement with little Sofia in her arms.

"Shut it! She's sleeping!"

You held both of your sisters back by their shirts when they tried to rush for your baby. "No!" You said sternly," Bedtime for you two."

"Sofia's not in bed!" Alba whined as Alexia pouted, reaching for Sofia like her life depended on it.

"I'm just putting her back into bed now," Vicky said," Would it make you two happier if you watched me?"

Both of your sisters nodded and all four of you trooped into the nursery to lay your sleepy girl to bed. She yawned in her sleep, scrunching up her little fists in a way that had both of your sisters cooing.

Vicky placed her down gently in her crib and switched on the monitor again as you guided your now settled sisters to the spare room. It seemed that seeing Sofia had calmed them both significantly because neither of them fought you when you tucked them both into the same bed.

"Three kids in bed," Vicky noted," And it's not even two in the morning."

"We did good, huh?" You joked as you slid into her warm embrace and pillowed your head on her chest.

"I'm surprised you let them sleep on the new sheets while drunk. What if they throw up?"

"Alexia won't."

"And Alba?"

"There's a bucket on the floor next to her," You said dismissively," If she throws up on the sheets then she's paying for them to be cleaned."

Vicky laughed. "I love it when you make plans to extort your sisters out of money. It's sexy." Her hand crept down to your bum.

"If I wasn't exhausted," You said," I would so take you up on that but-" You checked your bedside clock," We've got a one-week-old who will wake up for a feed in a few hours and my drunk sisters in the other room. No chance, Mrs Losada."

Vicky laughed again and you rocked at the movement of her chest. "Maybe tomorrow," She said," When Alba's out washing our sheets and we manipulate Alexia into babysitting."

You closed your eyes. "It's your turn to manipulate Alexia."

[sanjisboyfie]

playlist : tender by blur

(pre-timeskip) monkey d. luffy x male reader

this was a special i wrote for my fanfic (thats not published here on tumblr) but i realized it could be a good standalone one shot so i wanted to post it hereeeee :) the relationship status is ambiguous, but its obvious luffy and reader have known each other since chidhood/foosha village and luffy really really really loves clinging to reader ! another thing, if u want this could be a soft yandere luffy as well cause hes definitelllyyy showing summ tendencies here lol

“tender is the night, lying by your side. tender is the touch of someone that you love too much. tender is my heart, i’m screwing up my life. lord, i need to find someone who can heal my mind.”

luffy’s first impression of [name] was that he was strong. he looked up to him, he wanted to be as cool as him and as capable as him. how many times [name] had saved luffy’s ass when they were children was uncountable. and all those memories live so vividly in the captain’s head.

and when he made [name] promise that he’d find him in the grand line - made him swear that he’d join his crew and not anyone else’s, it was all so serious. the most serious luffy had ever been in the face of [name].

because to luffy, there would be no reason sailing out to sea if [name] wasn’t by his side. it sounds childish, especially if luffy were to ever verbally say that, but overtime he had realized that it was another genuine sentiment. there was no way luffy could become the pirate king without [name] by his side.

"luffy, stop running over the mud, you’re gonna fall on your face!” [name] worriedly called out from the treehouse, seeing the rubber boy play in their yard. it had just recently rained and all the soil that was surrounding their treehouse was still sludgy.

of course, luffy wanted to play in the mud like the child he was. [name] wasn’t going to stop him, but he could at least warn the younger one of injury.

"come play with me, [name]! let’s make mud pies!”

“no! you’re just gonna get hungry and actually eat them! gross!”

“i won’t- i am hungry though!”

[name] didn’t reply, only leaning over the wooden railing of the treehouse and watching as luffy got himself all mucked up and dirty. somehow, his straw hat stayed clean the entire time. he sighed, fiddling with his own piece of shanks, the cloth on his wrist before smiling gently.

just as he was about to turn around and get some naps in, luffy’s shrill voice started screaming, “[name]! [name]! save me!!! save me!”

he whipped his head around in an instant, eyes widening when he saw that luffy was caught in a mud slide.

"i can't breathe!!"

his voice was getting farther away and [name] jumped out of the treehouse without hesitation.

“luffy! luffy!” he shouted desperately, grunting when his ankle got caught in the mud and he was being dragged into the disgusting substance as well. he jerked his body upwards, wanting to at least see where luffy could’ve possibly been.

and then he saw it — his tiny palm waving frantically around in the air. [name] grit his teeth, twisting his body every which way to break out of the sticky grasp the environment had on him.

"[name]-” the boy’s scream was cut off and the sound of coughing began to fill his ears.

”luffy!” he grabbed a vine that was on the side of a tree and ripped it off, unlocking a newfound strength in himself to save luffy. he threw it right into luffy’s palms and tugged as hard as he could.

he dug his heels into the ground, his jaw clenched as he put all of his strength in pulling luffy out. and when he finally did, the first thing he did was wrap his arms around the boy’s torso.

"can you breathe?! are you okay?!” he frantically asked, patting the boy’s back in case anything was lodged in his chest - hindering his breathing. but luffy just collapsed into his arms and began wailing.

“i thought i was going to die, [name]! thank you!!”

[name] protectively wrapped luffy up in his arms, hugging him as tight as possible as he tried to reassure himself that luffy was alright. and he steadied his breathing, allowing luffy to cry into his arms for however long he wanted.

“you stupid idiot, don’t ever play in mud again!” he scolded luffy, pushing away the black locks of hair out of luffy’s face. he grimaced when he felt how dirty his hair felt, reminding himself to bathe with luffy to ensure all the grime was washed out.

and despite luffy’s face almost being completely covered in mud, he still flashed that bright smile, “you saved me, [name]! thank you!”

[name] blinked a couple of times before laughing, “of course i’d save you! i’ll always be there! just scream like the little baby you are and i’ll come running!”

luffy frowned, hands balling into [name]’s mud ridden shirt, “i’m not a baby!”

“yeah, you are,” [name] corrected, “but it’s alright, i’ll take care of you no matter what! so you get the excuse of acting like a baby! but! only for a little while longer, you gotta start maturing soon, luffy!”

“don’t wanna, that sounds boring!”

“captain’s can’t be immature, y’know! i don’t want an immature captain!”

“i’m mature, the maturest captain out there!”

[name] laughed as loud as possible, finding luffy’s eagerness to please and obliviousness more heartfelt than anything he’s ever seen before.

and as [name] was sitting in the crow’s nest, watching luffy run around the deck whining for adventure, he realized how lucky he got that his captain was still an adventurous, reckless, and immature as he was. he fears that if luffy had lost any of those traits, he’d make for a boring captain.

as if knowing that [name] was watching from above, luffy looked up and grinned happily to see that his e/c eyes were looking at him. in a second, he stretched himself up to where [name] was and crashed into his chest.

“don’t you want to go on more adventures, [name]?” luffy asked, rubbing their cheeks against one another. the grin on his face could be felt along [name]’s skin. his rubbery, but soft, skin was already making [name] crack into a smile of his own.

“yes, i want to go on more adventures, but we need to find an island for that to be an option,” [name] reasoned logically, making luffy’s smile turn into a frown.

“but i wanna go now! can’t you take us to an island?!”

“it doesn’t work like that, luffy!”

“it so does, you liar!”

“you’re right it does, i was lying!” [name] grinned, laughing as luffy began play fighting with him. “but aren’t you on an adventure right now?”

luffy paused, stilling in his fake attacks as he mulled over the question. then his signature grin came back onto his face, “i guess i am!”

“what makes you say that?”

“if you’re here, i’m on the best adventure!” luffy sincerely, and unapologetically, shouted.

[name] was shocked at first before his expression melted into a loving stare, “i feel the same way,”

“good! it’d be wrong if you didn’t!”

luffy calmed down from when he was running around on the deck. he still had [name] wrapped up in his arms, but the man wasn’t fighting against his embrace. so he only tightened it further.

“i’m really, really, really, really, really happy you’re here, [name].”

luffy’s statement came out of nowhere, but [name] didn’t bother showing his surprise. he simply let luffy continue on.

“i don’t ever want to be seperated from you again,” luffy said, out of nowhere his voice was now trembling, “you’d leave and leave and leave and then i never knew when you’d be back — if you’d even come back! and i don’t want that ever again…don’t ever leave me again!”

[name] frowned, fists clenching at his sides as he heard luffy’s shaky voice.

“and then you left for three years and there was no way i could talk to you, you and ace left me by myself! but you promised me we’d find each other, so i knew you’d come back! and now that you’re back, you can’t ever leave again,” luffy tightened his hold on [name], nuzzling his now cold nose into his neck. it had turned cold due to the sudden rush of tears that were clouding his vision.

“no! no! don’t take him away! don’t take [name] away!” luffy shouted, fighting against the uniformed men. his fists were pathetically pounding into their legs, his cries filling the night air.

“[name]! don’t go! please, don’t go!!"

for [name], those cries that came from luffy lived in his mind on repeat. whenever he’d have to leave, against his will, luffy would wail and cry until he was too far that he wasn’t able to hear him. he’d never make luffy suffer like that again, he’d sworn it to himself.

he was supposed to be the one protecting him, not causing him pain. no more suffering would come to luffy, if [name] could help it. he’d never have to cry for him again.

“i won’t let you leave, i won’t let anyone take you away — never again!” luffy said stubbornly, his teeth grazing the flesh of [name]’s shoulder.

the captain never got sentimental like this — nearly coming to tears for apparently no reason. but, it was not a secret that he had an unseen side to himself when it came to [name].

it was a side that no one else on the crew had really witnessed for themselves (yet). a side of vulnerability that only [name] was capable of bringing out. it was like the way [name] could command luffy stop stealing food off of other people’s plates and the captain would listen (for a solid 5 minutes, then he’d have to cave in and steal more food for his stomach).

“i won’t leave, luffy.” [name] said in a determined tone, “no one is going to take me away. i belong here with you, so don’t worry about anyone coming for me.”

“if anyone tries taking you away, i’ll kill them. i’ll send them flying that they’ll never try coming back, ever again!” luffy shouted once more. a deep pit of anger lived in him, a secret that he kept hidden for the most part.

it was a sense of guilt, probably, that fueled it so wildly. the guilt of not being able to do anything when he was a child. so he feels the need to overcompensate now that he has become stronger. if [name]’s position in their crew was ever threatened, someone tried taking him away, luffy would have had years upon years of pent up anger to release.

no one really knew how angry he was. only himself. it was the type of anger he would showcase when one of his crewmates, his nakama, was threatened on a personal level. when he saw nami crying for help against arlong was the one instance he can remember the clearest.

but the thing is, if anything like that ever happened to [name], he doesn’t think he’d be able to control himself. if [name] was ever pushed to the point of begging and crying for help, luffy doesn’t know how sane he could act.

just thinking of how frail [name] was whenever he’d be taken away when they were younger made him feel blood thirsty.

and it was an odd feeling. he almost never feels this way. never so violent. but when it comes to [name], everything is a free for all in luffy’s mind.

ever since he was a child [name] has been nothing but kind, a protector for luffy. and the captain would rather die than fail in protecting the one person who was always there for him.

“ace, quit being so mean to luffy!” [name]’s voice shouted, scolding the freckled man. he ran over to the younger one’s side immediately, collecting him in his arms and creating a physical barrier around luffy and ace.

“you baby him too much! how is he supposed to get stronger-”

“he’s just a kid!!!” [name] would shout, as if the three year age gap between himself and luffy amounted to decades. “don’t be so mean to him, don’t hit him anymore! i won’t allow it!”

“there’s no way he’ll survive in the real world if you keep this up!”

[name] grit his teeth, standing up and socking ace right in the face, “you can’t decide that!!”

“i’m being realistic!”

“you’re bullying him, enough!” [name] spat out, once again gathering luffy into his arms, “i won’t allow you to hurt him any more! don’t ever think about laying your hands on luffy again!!”

luffy hid his face in [name]’s torso, a feeling blossoming in his chest. he didn’t know the name for it and in the coming years, it seems he’d never learn how to properly state this feeling.

but he did know that whenever [name] was nearby, luffy was protected. he felt protected. [name] was, as he is for so many people, a protector. natural instincts make him a self-sacrificial person. if taking a bullet in the place of someone else meant they’d live, he’d jump in front of the gun in an instant.

it was a trait of [name]’s that luffy genuinely hated. not how protective [name] was, but how involved he was in making judgement calls without regards to his own health.

that self-sacrificial mindset that made [name] think more irrationally than he’d ever notice. luffy hated that.

only tiny instances has ever been seen by luffy when they were growing up. taking scoldings and beatings from garp in order to save luffy the pain, shadowing luffy’s body with his own if there was a sudden danger directed towards him, things along those lines that would leave [name] with some injuries or scars.

but to think that this attitude of [name]’s could lead to more serious injuries, or even death, was what made luffy uncomfortable. made him want to punch a hole in the wall. it really, really infuriated him.

because in his eyes, [name]’s life was something more important than anything else. he didn’t understand how [name] could be so careless with something so important to luffy.

the idea that one day, someone may be in a life threatening situation, and [name] would take their place makes luffy’s heart start beating at impossible speeds and his breathing quicken. his mind would get cloudy in dark thoughts. and then he’d have to snap himself out of it to remind himself that he was day dreaming and nothing of those sorts was going to happen any time soon.

he’d make sure of it, as captain he was determined to.

”is he going to be okay, dadan?” luffy sniffled, tiny hands curled into fists as he stared at [name]’s bandaged form.

recklessly, [name] had jumped in front of an animal attacking luffy and took the attack for himself instead. it was a tiger slashing out to draw blood from luffy. [name] had caught the sight from the corner of his eye and ran as fast as he could, hoping to god he had made it in time.

and when he looked down and saw luffy unscratched, he weakly smiled in victory. three slashes were bearing into his skin and making him bleed profusely, but to see luffy unharmed in front of him was enough for him to pass out without a worry in his mind.

imagine luffy’s fear as he had to carry [name] on his back, on his own, not knowing if the ragged breathing coming down on his ears would suddenly stop. the fear and dread he’d feel if he took him all the way back to dadan and it was already determined to be “too late” to save [name].

and the way it would have all been his fault.

now, in reality, the damage wasn’t as bad as luffy had thought it out to be. but he was still only a child. the fact he had seen that much blood was enoug reason for why he thought [name] was really going to die. it was a relatively valid fear.

“he’s going to be alright, this brother of yours is the toughest one of the whole pack of you rabbid animals,” dadan grunted, taking her seat across from luffy by [name]’s side.

“not my brother,” luffy grumpily corrected, tired of people getting the wrong idea. how many times has he had to tell people [name] wasn’t his brother. to luffy he was so much more than that.

as rude as it sounded to his two other brothers, [name] was so much more than a simple title of “brother.”

“apologies,” dadan sarcastically said, “but really, he’s going to be fine luffy, he’ll be better if you just leave him alone, though.”

she stood up, going to walk out of the room and held the door open for luffy. she waited for him to join her side, but he was glued to being by [name]. seeing his resolve in staying by [name], she gently closed the door behind her.

luffy already promised himself he wouldn’t move until [name] opened his eyes.

he wouldn’t sleep until [name] opened his eyes. he wouldn’t eat until [name] drank water — since luffy knew that would be the first thing the boy would need when waking up.

he wouldn’t allow himself the luxury of things [name] was missing out on. especially when it was luffy’s fault he was in this state in the first place.

in the crow’s nest of merry, [name] could only rub up and down luffy’s arm in hopes of calming him down. he felt guilty for being the reason of luffy’s tears, but realized that there was nothing he could have done to prevent them.

the two were too familiar with why he was crying in the first place. they knew that combatting it before the tears would start was useless. luffy had broken down to [name] many times before, especially when they were younger. it would end in sleepless nights and sweet nothings being echoed in the air for luffy’s ears and luffy’s ears only.

and the best way to take care of it was to let it happen. whispered nothings weren't really effective to luffy. he didn’t want to be fed empty promises, he could tell when things couldn’t be guaranteed. but, he thinks, if [name] is the one saying them he wouldn't mind at least hearing them. that didn’t necessarily mean he was listening though.

there was something else he would never pass up on hearing over and over and over again from [name]. it was four simple words. it could be false hope being put into luffy’s head, but he’d believe it for as long as he could.

“i’m not going anywhere,” [name] whispered into luffy’s arms, twisting his body around so now he was properly hugging luffy as well. before luffy had simply suffocated him in his arms, chest to back. but now that they were in a proper embrace, luffy could really hide himself in [name]’s arms.

it was like they were in the treehouse again. in their own world.

“i’m not going anywhere,” [name] repeated more slowly, raking his hands through luffy’s hair and gripping him tight. to emphasize the fact that this was a promise that he’d try his best in keeping.

to luffy, [name] was not a brother.

“i won’t let you,” luffy said in a stubborn voice, the syllables shaking as they left his lips. “you belong here, only here! you belong with me!”

[name] weakly laughed at luffy’s childish exclamation, nodding his head to ease his worries.

luffy never really got to vent these emotions out, so when did they come to surface, they were almost like a tsunami. they’d drown him in saying things he might’ve not even understood, but felt right to say.

and he’d blabber on about things he might not understand because he knew keeping them suppressed wasn't an option.

luffy didn’t know how to talk about the emotions he felt regarding [name], not in a way that would do them justice at least. he didn’t know how to articulate how protective he felt of [name], so instead as a compromise he’d attach himself to him whenever he could.

if someone tried sweeping [name] off of his feet, he wouldn’t know how to tell other people [name] was only his, so instead he’d yell about how annoying that person was to him and [name].

he didn’t know how to properly say how much he loved [name] so he’d boil it down to thinking [name] was heaven on earth.

[name] smiled gently when he felt luffy bury his head into his neck, tears pouring out of his eyes. he wondered what spurred luffy into being so open at the moment, but he wasn’t going to ask. it wasn’t appropriate and it didn’t matter.

he didn’t care why luffy was suddenly so worried on him no longer being there, he’d only focus on assuring him that he really wasn’t going anywhere. because someone would have to pry his cold, dead hands off of luffy if they wanted to separate the two. there’s no way he’d ever leave luffy again, especially after hearing his worries so vividly spoken now.

sure, luffy would say things relatively similar things to this when they were young. but there was always a sense of uncertainty in [name] when he would comfort luffy back then. he wasn’t sure if he was really going to be able to stay with him. the circumstances were so confusing back then.

but now it’s a clear picture. he knows that there is no way anyone could come between the two. after being pulled apart so sporadically in their youth and then being separated for three years due to [name] setting sail earlier, there was no room for argument in this matter.

[name] and luffy wouldn’t ever be separated for long ever again. [name] would do everything in his power to ensure that didn’t happen. anything to keep luffy happy. anything to keep luffy safe and protected.

“will you always leave like this when we are older, [name]?” luffy innocently asked one night. the two were awake due to the younger one having vivid nightmares regarding [name].

a nightmare that was reoccuring nowadays. [name] would be taken away and then he’d never come back, leaving his status unknown to luffy. and he’d wake up screaming and crying and [name] would be at his side in an instant.

”i’m working on it, lu, i really am,” [name] consoled him, holding him as they bathed in the moonlight. “i hate being away from you too, but there’s nothing we can do abuot it — for now.”

“i’ll get stronger and then i’ll beat all those stupid guys up!” luffy said in pure determination, his eyebrows furrowed together in anger and frustration, “i’ll fight them next time,”

[name] chuckled, shaking his head, “don’t fight them. just promise to me you’ll always be waiting for me when i leave and i’ll always, always come back,”

luffy blinked owlishly before settling on that compromise. he wiggled his pinky finger in the air, right in front of [name]’s face, “i’ll promise to always be here waiting if you promise to always come back,”

[name] paused, thinking of he really should make empty promises. but then he shook his head, refusing to think so negatively and in a pessimistic way when luffy’s smile was bringing nothing but optimism to their conversation.

so he interlocked their pinkies together, shaking slightly as he nodded, “i promise.”

[name] was tender.

in his earliest memories of [name], luffy has known him to only be tender. the tender care [name] would show him, the love that was delivered to him so tenderly. the touch that would ghost over his skin, not because he was scared of holding him, but so he wouldn’t startle him.

no matter what, [name] would always be tender to luffy.

[moonsaver]

Good day moon! Okay I normally don't do asks when it comes to yandere cause it's not my usual thing but seeing the last post you made of Yan!Sunday and his darling, that one where he just desperately wants to have that normalcy in their relationship but couldn't ever have it because of what he's done, made me think of something rather angsty; like how the darling's backlashes against his affections would probably go turn for the worst as time passes on, they don't hate him in a sense because he's really trying hard to not make them hate him and they can see that his love is real (just really fucked up) but that deep urge to hurt the person who took their freedom away is still there, it wouldn't just go away just because he loves them so much that he wouldn't dare to break them. Oh that satisfaction on seeing Sunday looking so hurt after yelling at him, they know it doesn't make them any better than him but at that point, what else is there for them to lose? Maybe in hurting him so subtly, they may find some pity in themselves for him to actually give him some semblance of love but until then, all Sunday ever receives from them are either silent treatment or backlash

Such relationship could only thrive in the worst way possible and maybe Sunday knows that but even then, he still holds out that little (delusional) hope that maybe his darling will still love him someday

Sorry for the rant, it's just that I feel for Sunday but his method will never work and it'll just deeply hurt him and his darling in the end asgfjgsfg also if it's alright, I'd request this but I'll leave it to you with how you write it, be it an imagine or anything else since I'm fine with it!

- Elys

Hello Elys! Im so sorry it took a long time for me to get to your request lol, tons of things got in the way but I remembered this request for a while.

In any case, I feel you've summed it up quite well!

Sunday isn't harsh or as brutal as I imagine him. Unlike my [i have to self advertise here, sorry HAHA] soft yan!blade, Sunday most likely wouldn't even need a bit of working around to be a softer yandere.

He's so loving, it's painful. His love is like despaired poetry for a lover who is still alive, just further than their reach. I imagine his love to be very tender, even as a yandere, if he doesn't become even softer.

And it's hard to convince him he's wrong – mainly because he already knows. But rather that's a bit distorted in his view; instead he thinks it's a wrongdoing against your nature as someone who wants to be free, but correct in the context of the situation rather than actually understanding it is absolutely wrong in general. And he doesn't budge. He's stubborn, almost infuriatingly. And instead of getting angry, I imagine he rather looks disappointed or disgruntled, which somehow does more damage/strikes more fear than anger.

And it's still heartbreaking; frustratingly for both of you, not just yourself.

You lash out, you scream, cry, wail, argue, relentlessly push and resist against him. it's your only way of getting back at him, you're sure as hell you're going to strike the hardest that way. And you relish the hurt you see in the eyes of your captor, but something more sympathetic tugs at you when you see his lovingly sad eyes. It's this cacophony of guilt, frustration, anger, and utter despair at the loss of your freedom. Sunday feels all of it, aswell, and you want to be relieved that he does – if it weren't for the fact he still wasn't letting you go.

He continually withholds your freedom from you. That single injustice to you is enough to weather your patience over time – your anger only burns hotter and hotter, pushing away any semblance of sympathy or reasoning, and it only hurts Sunday more, until you realise what you're doing, and quietly give in to sooth him for the time being. Just a little. Until that little injustice starts bothering you again. It's a toxic cycle.

And it hurts even more when Sunday tries to find normalcy in your relationship; he's trying so hard to be your lover, to hold you gently and bathe you with care, to dry you off and still love you after seeing you bare. He wants to come home and see you smile, be happy, elated that he's there, just as he feels when he sees you. But that's not what happens. His delusions and flimsy expectations are shattered the moment he steps into the dimly lit room, your form refusing to even look at him. The silence is strangely stronger than his hopes.

Anyways, that's all i can think of at the moment. I love angst yandere sunday time.

[draco-spencers-paramour]

request from anon:

“king george iii and reader with their young son”

little king

young king george iii x afab!reader

navigating life as new parents after welcoming your son george iv

warnings: fluff, suggestive smut (no actual smut)

you laid in bed with george in a blissful slumber before the cries of your newborn son awoke you. He could wake the entire castle with his screams as far as you were concerned. It had not even been 24 hours since you gave birth to him and you were already becoming a hands on mother even with the strong encouragement from your doctor to stay in bed.

You entered the nursery to see one of the maids already tending to him "Your majesty" she curtsied while holding George. You smiled "Thank you for the help Anna. I'll take it from here." you reached out for him "Oh well, it's only that you've only just given birth ma'am and the doctors have advised rest it's really no problem." she insisted. You shook your head "Nonsense, I assure you, this is my child. He is my responsibility now. Thank you for everything but please get some sleep Anna." you whispered softly.

She smiled back "Thank you your majesty." she handed baby George to you before she retired to her chamber. "Hello my darling." you cooed as the young boy continued wailing "Oh, it's okay baby." you reassured him as you cradled and bounced him gently in your arms. You wandered over to the large window of his room where the moons light spilled in through the panes. "Look at that Georgie. That's the moon. Almost as pretty as you." the newborn began to settle as he watched the moon for the first time with big eyes "Just like daddy aren't you?"

Back in your own room the king reached out to you in his sleepy state only to find you weren't in the bed which made him wake up abruptly. He wandered out of the room before hearing the faint sounds of your voice which he followed to the nursery. He leant on the doorframe in delight as he watched you talk sweetly to your son. Seeing you be a mum made him love you all the more. How tender and gentle you were, the way you nursed him. "Sweetheart." George called to you.

You turned towards him with a soft grin as he walked over to the window "Let me take him. You must sleep my love." he kissed your forehead encircling his arms around your own helping you rock baby George. “He’s magnificent isn’t he.” you whispered leaning your back on George’s chest. “Our little king.” he replied back. The small boy squirmed as you turned around placed him in his dad’s arms. “Daddy’s turn.” you said before kissing him on his little head. George gave a small chuckle before he kissed you “Let that pretty little head of yours dream, my dear. I’ll be in soon.” you nodded and went back to bed.

Getting under the covers, you attempted sleep once more which did not go to plan you were tossing and turning for at least an hour and found that you could not sleep without George present. And as if the heavens had read your mind he returned to your chamber “I thought you were sleeping darling, I’ve settled George.” you shook your head at him “Not without you here” he gave you his dazzling smile and got into the bed pulling you on top of him gently. “Better?” he asked. “Much” you sighed contentedly.

“Watching you mother little Georgie made me realise something.” George stroked your head. “and what’s that?” you laid your head on your hands as you stared at him. “I want as many babies with you as possible and I would like to start making them tomorrow.” he admitted.“George! I gave birth yesterday! I need to rest as tempting as your offer sounds.” You laughed wholeheartedly as he pouted and tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear whispering “You wouldn’t have to do anything. Just lay there and enjoy yourself, let me do all the work….let me make you feel good.”

You felt yourself become hot and bothered at his very vivid suggestion “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” you leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. George smirked before hugging you closely “Goodnight darling, I love you.” you nuzzled into him “Love you more.” you whispered as you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

my first ever king george request!! hope everyone likes it <3

please let me know if there is anything i need to change, if it does not feel inclusive to you as the reader. I always try to be as vague as possible in order for it to be inclusive to everyone. However Y/N is female in this fic. I’m very happy to write a non gender specific fic!

[jjoongramini]

tw: drabble, smut no fluff, pegging, very rough and mean femdom, sub!seonghwa, degradation no praise, heavy overstimulation, crying, begging, quite scary

w/c: 0.9k

a/n: its 4am and well shit

"youre a little slut, aren't you?" you murmur to him as he slowly adjusts to the dildo you halfway inserted into him. he is on his back facing you, his knees pressed onto his chest, taking all the harsh treatment. your delicate fingers caress his soft cheek, wiping his tears. he moans pathetically, "please, please."

"please what, doll?" you say, gently sliding your fingers down his flawless skin. "please..." his weak voice shakes as well as his entire body, aligning with the cruel vibrations. "please, let me cum," he cries. he knows that if he came without your permission, you would give him no mercy.

"not yet," you chuckle, watching how defeated he shows to be. you love how weak he is. you love the way his own cock is coated with your own arousal from previously. you love the way you came four times tonight, while he has not at all.

"you're so small," you say, beginning to insert one finger beside your dildo to stretch him. you heard his breath fall short, growing silent at the sudden unforgiving feeling, and you smile. you insert two, and he grows stiff, tears now flowing out of his eyes. you insert three, and he bites his tongue, unable to take anymore. you attempt to insert a fouth one in, but he is too small for that.

once youre done pottering, you take away your hand to grab his tiny waist. you begin to move in circles. every bit of pleasure seonghwa ever feels never goes unseen; it shows in his expressions vastly. he moans with his lips closed, as though trying to stay silent to no use. it's embarrassing for how sensitive he is. you begin to notice certain angles which trigger him most, focusing on them. you pause, and start to slowly penetrate deeper towards the most influencial spot.

"please theretheretheretherethere," he muffles. his eyes widen when you begin to fully insert the rest of the dick inside of him, and he whines so loudly as he expected lesser of its size. he couldn't adjust in time.

with no regard for his comfort, you pull out and slam into the very sweet spot.

he screams, his cum poured everywhere. he attempted to hold it in, but he couldn't. it felt so good. he releases a cascade of beautiful wails before he begins to sob. the damage is done.

"i- im sorry," he mumbles. "please."

you dismissed his response immediately, pulling out slowly and thrusting into him again towards the very same spot. he screams so much louder, now trembling from the sensation.

"you're so fucking loud. you're a spoiled little whore, you hear me?" you say, and his only response was a silent wince. you vigorously slap his round ass. he moans, crying more.

"a spoiled," "fucking," "whore."

you punctuated each of your final words with a sharp thrust forward, seonghwa releasing loud yells at each one. you genuinely doubt if the entire neighborhood didn't hear him.

"ahh... please- please.. please go easy.. please," he mutters.

"oh, you can take it," you reply, and he moans to another thrust. "a shit like you could take it."

he clenches.

you then start to fuck him, finally. you pushed towards all his sensitive areas, abusing them.

the speed was moderate, yet to seonghwa, he is barely handling it right now. his couldnt help rolling his eyes back as he lets out the most broken cries, but he refuses to admit that it feels so good.

having applied too much mascara, he's a sobbing mess, begging and crying for you. yearning for your utmost love.

your thrusts gradually become strong, as though you're aiming to go the deepest possible. at this extent, youre abusing the spot against his prostate, ruining his inside, beating him as hard as you could. seonghwa's eyes are shut as he's wailing louder now, his moans deep every thrust and conveying his sufferage. his tears coat his cheeks. he sounds exhausted, yet overwhelmed.

until you strike a specific part with that strength, his eyes widen and his entire body electricutes. he releases a second time, and all the fluids spill everywhere. a chain of the loudest squirms fill the room.

his back arches against the sheets.

he cries out louder and higher in pitch. his narrow, red tongue slightly sticks outwards, following the leaking saliva and other fluids. his trembling begins to worsen, his body tense and struggling to get away from you.

"wait- ahh~~ too-.. too much-"

the mixture of sweat and tears running down his face and the sound of his moans grants you a sense of satisfaction. you feel like you have complete control over him as he lies below you, crying and begging you to stop. he is powerless and helpless, fully under your control. you know he likes this.

the tight grazing ropes binding his wrists shuffle above him, restricting him from his will to get away. as he begs for mercy, you begin to grant the opposite.

you thrust at a faster, animalistic pace. you watch his eyes roll backwards from the overwhelming sensation, tensing himself, holding in his voice to process the feeling. however, it leads to no avail; his silence was only temporary when he begins to squirm louder than before, high sounds he never thought he could make. he clenches on the artificial dick as though he is trying to milk you. you care to no extent, fucking all sorts of fluids into his tight little hole.

[fudgelling-away]

Dating Start!

The visual novel fan game.

I watched the gameplay on YouTube.

All possible choices...

The writing under the cut starts with exclamations of my distress, and ends with a coherent commentary on how experiencing such virtual scenarios can benefit the player.

I don't think there are spoilers... Other than the fact that you can go multiple ways through the game.

The genocide route plus the attempted pacifist route afterwards.

HORRIBLE.

OMG.

And when you try to do the pacifist route again? Did you see how it ends?

MY GOD, NO. No. no. no no no.

What a sickening turn of events. This is... Ugh, I am nauseaus even thinking back to it.

No. No.

Ewwww noooo what the f-

I have been upset for DAYS after watching it. And the pictures and the dialogue is still burned into my mind.

TERRIFYING.

DISGUSTING.

EVIL.

Congratulations to the creators - and I mean it.

That is... so well made. Just... perfect punch after punch after punch to your heart. The creators ripped me apart into pieces.

Great job - again, not ironically.

That is a very, very well made game.

They knew exactly what to do to make it as painful as possible. To get all tears out of the player and to traumatize them for some time.

It's not brutal or cruel in a mindless way, no. No, no. It's way more intelligent than that. It creates such a horrific scenario, paired with the horrific pictures, that I don't think I'll ever forget it. And I only saw a YouTube video.

In comparison to Dating Start!, the normal UT Sans fight is like a happy picnic in the park.

"But it's just a game, aren't you overreacting?", you could ask. Well, no. I am enjoying artwork like pictures, movies, games to get immersed into it and experience it all. If I keep my shield up and do not allow myself to feel what the characters are feeling... then what's the point?

What's the point of even approaching art if I refuse to feel any of it?

So Dating Start! is obviously a game, but if you imagine it being a reality, imagine yourself holding that knife, it gets so painful that I want to wail and scream my lungs out.

That being said, I appreciate artists who create these kinds of difficult works so much.

I believe we choose a variety of art for ourselves because we need different stimuli. If our life was 100% fluff, we'd drown in it and become numb.

So we consume angst, tragedies, horror and other unpleasant works.

We consider those scenarios.

We think of the possible choices.

We come to terms with our worldview, or challenge it.

We grow.

We process those real emotions and learn so many things about ourselves and problem solving.

We keep developing our sense of conscience.

--------

And, to sum up I will say something to make sure I am understood correctly:

Let people explore all sides of humanity within the safety of their fantasies.

It is NOT possible to judge a person by what they create and what art they enjoy. Human mind is not black and white.

Choosing to perceive it like that: "violent art = violent person" is INCREDIBLY IMMATURE. Ridiculously childlish and small-minded.

So I am absolutely NOT judging anyone who for one reason or another enjoys doing the genocide routes in games. I enjoy to be the "bad guy" in games as well.

No judgement from my side. That should be... obvious, but I think it's not, so I am making sure to include that in my post.

[captainsophiestark]

Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

Bill Weasley x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Bill Weasley and his new wife have their wedding reception interrupted by Death Eaters and news of the Ministry falling. Things look bleak when they escape to Shell Cottage, but they find a way to keep each other going.

Word Count: 1,015

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Weddings were supposed to be happy. They were supposed to be joyful celebrations, with all the people who mattered most. Even in the midst of a brewing war, I thought Bill and I would get that. One night of a break before returning our attention to all the terrible things going on in the world.

I guess I should've known better.

One minute, I was twirling across the dancefloor in the arms of my new husband, sharing a smile as the rest of the world faded away. In that moment, despite everything going on outside of our wedding, the world felt perfect.

The next minute, a glowing lynx had burst through the ceiling and into the middle of the dancefloor, announcing the fall of the Ministry of Magic and the death of the Minister along with it. The reception descended into chaos, people screaming and running as the protective enchantments around the giant tent fell one by one. It had been absolute chaos, and I barley remembered Bill grabbing my hand and getting us both out of there as the Death Eaters arrived.

Now, I sat on the sofa in Shell Cottage, where we were supposed to start our honeymoon. The place had glowed with warmth and coziness the first time we'd visited, but now it seemed all too dark, cold, and deserted.

"I just let my dad know we're alright," Bill said, coming back into the living room. He'd stepped outside to send a Patronus to his dad, to make sure the family wouldn't worry about us. "Hopefully we'll hear back from him soon."

I nodded, a little numbly, as my new husband crossed the room and waved his wand to start a fire in the fireplace. Once he'd finished, he came to sit next to me on the couch. We both stayed there for a few long moments, shoulder to shoulder and staring into the flames. I have no idea how long we would've stayed there on our own, but another glowing Patronus shot into the room not much later, this one the familiar shape of a weasel.

Bill's dad's voice came from the Patronus to tell us the rest of the family was safe, and that they'd be in touch when they could. A bit of the weight lifted off my chest, but a lot of it still remained. As the light of the Patronus and Arthur's voice faded, the darkness crept back in, despite the fire.

"Y/N?" I looked up to see Bill's concerned face. "Love, you're crying."

I raised a hand to my cheek to find he was right. Tears were streaming down my face, and the second I was forced to recognize it, a dam broke inside me.

I fell forward into Bill's chest as I sobbed, and he wrapped his arms around me. He held me tight, rubbing one hand soothingly up and down my back.

"It's going to be alright," he muttered into my hair, his own voice miraculously calm. I just cried harder.

"How can you say that, Bill?" I wailed. "We almost got killed at our own wedding, and now the Ministry has completely fallen. How can you possibly say that we're going to make it through this alright?"

He took a deep, shaky breath, then gently pulled me back from him enough that he could look me in the eye. His eyes shone and his eyebrows were furrowed, mirroring the distress I felt. But there was a grim set to the line of his mouth that signaled a quiet, unbreakable determination.

"We will make it through this," he promised. He gripped my shoulders a little tighter, leaning in until we were almost nose to nose. "We will get to our happy ending, no matter what."

I laughed a little through the tears, Bill's absolute conviction so ridiculous it brought a smile to my face.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked. He grinned.

"Because it's us. We just got married. That means we're a team, for the rest of our lives, against anything else the world wants to throw at us. And I happen to know that we make a fantastic team. I personally pity anyone who bets against us."

I giggled again, leaning into Bill as he leaned into me. No one else in the world could've lifted my spirits in this moment, other than the man sitting beside me. Which, of course, was no small part of the reason I'd married him.

"Come on," Bill said after a minute, standing and holding out his hand to me. "I believe we were in the middle of something before those bastards crashed our wedding."

I shook my head, still smiling anyway as I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. Still in my wedding dress, and with Bill still in his suit, we came together in the middle of the living room in Shell Cottage to finish the slow dance that had been interrupted. His arms wrapped tightly around me and I rested my head on his chest while the last of the tears dried on my face.

"You're right," I mumbled, my voice barely loud enough for him to hear. "You're right, we will get through this. And I'll personally make sure anyone who tries to hurt us comes to regret it."

Bill huffed a laugh and tightened his arms around me.

"I have absolutely no doubts about that."

I pulled back to smile into the face of the man I loved, and after a moment, he leaned in and kissed me. We stayed like that for a long time, swaying in the middle of our living room, kissing occasionally, but mostly just enjoying the fact that we were still here, together and whole, after everything that had happened.

In the warm, flickering glow of the firelight, the darkness of the cottage started to regain its cozy feeling, and a tiny spark of joy for the thought of the future rekindled itself in my chest.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Harry Potter Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[bidisastersanji]

Just published chapter 3 for the "Zoro learns french" story on AO3 if anyone's interested! Or you can read it right here (part 1, part 2, part 4) and under the cut:

“Sanjiiiiii,” the little doctor wails as he goes through the familiar motions of treating Sanji’s blood loss. “Who did this to you??” He sniffles loudly. “There are no mermaids here! I thought you were over this!” 

Next to him, Luffy absentmindedly picks his nose- seemingly amused by the situation- as the handful of straw hats gathered in the med bay whisper conspiratorially amongst themselves. What could have possibly caused the cook to pass out from a nosebleed?

Arms crossed under his chest, Zoro’s eye flits nervously to Robin’s and is unsurprisingly met with her ever impassive and mysterious smile, which he notes reach her eyes. She most likely heard everything, Zoro figures. Probably even popped one of her ears near them to hear better. Fuck, this was such a mess. He swallows hard, his mind still racing with the explicit thoughts Sanji had drunkenly admitted to. Not to mention the long-awaited confirmation that he has indeed been sleeping with men at various ports. So maybe learning French had come in handy. He’d never tell Mihawk though. 

“Et puis si tu savais ce que je te laisserais me faire- ” Sanji’s sultry words echo in his mind and Zoro’s ears feel dangerously warm at the memory. He really shouldn’t let himself imagine just what the cook would ‘let him do to him’. Fighting the unconscious impulse to screw his eye shut and shake this off, he follows Chopper’s movements in an attempt to distract himself from the lewd images he’s conjuring. He’s honestly surprised at the self-control he displayed earlier. He was so close to just yanking him by his stupid necktie, kissing him silly, locking his sinfully strong thighs around his hips and carrying him back to bed right then and there, the others be damned.  

He can still feel a tightness in his shoulder muscles from the restraint it took to just sit there and listen to the man’s rant. Before he can dwell any more on his struggle, he’s thankfully interrupted by the sound of Chopper speaking up cheerfully, seemingly satisfied with his work. 

“Sanji will be ok- he actually didn’t lose that much blood. Relatively. I think his training-” a snort from Usopp is quickly silenced by the doctor’s stern look. “must’ve kicked in. He should be fine by tomorrow morning; I've treated him with something that should help with his blood production.” 

The crew, happy to learn their cook will recover just fine, file out of the room to rejoin the festivities, and Zoro does his best to linger just a little longer to peek at the blonde’s soft curls and endearing sleeping face. And if a little bit of pride swells in his chest from knowing he’s the cause of this nosebleed, well...no one will know.  

He’s barely out of the room when he finds himself cornered by Nami. Damnit. 

“I know Sanji was with you when this happened.” the redhead gives him a serious, pointed look. 

Zoro scowls. ‘Yeah, and?” 

“And???” her hands fly, up, exasperated. “What happened?” 

“None of your business, witch.” 

“Oh? And I suppose your debt is none of my business too, you big brute? You wouldn’t mind me adding to it for insubordination, would you?” 

At the mention of his ever-growing debt to the navigator, Zoro’s left gaping down at her, mouth silently forming words in anger. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get me back for this, I’m the worst, blah blah blah.” Her eyes roll and her hands gesture him to move along. “Now tell me what happened. What could’ve possibly triggered Sanji’s nosebleed?” her eyes momentarily flit down to his chest and her lips curl to the side in a little smirk. 

“Unless... no, your tits are always out. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll take 0.5% off your debt.” 

Zoro sighs and relents. “I didn’t do much, he’s the one who came up to me and started screaming at me in French.” 

Nami stares him down with an unimpressed look. “And then...?” 

“And then I just answered him, and he passed out.” he grumbles out petulantly. 

“That’s so weird- wait. What do you mean you ‘answered him’?” brown eyes narrow at him. “In French?” 

“...yeah.” 

“...you speak French?” 

“Oui.” 

Pain flares on his head from the navigator’s swift punch. She has no sense of humour, damn. 

“Stop fucking around. Why would you of all people know how to speak French?” 

“You don’t believe me?!” he tries to keep his indignant scream as low as he can. 

“No- I’m saying that you wouldn’t go through the trouble of learning a language unless there was something in it for you- so there’s gotta be someth-” Nami comes to a realisation, and her eyebrows raise in shock, giving Zoro an appraising look. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You-” 

“Shut up.” 

By some stroke of luck, Nami leaves the elephant in the room alone, and returns to the matter at hand. “Ok, ok, so you speak French. I can only imagine what you must’ve said to get that kind of reaction from him, though.” She runs her hand across her face, tired. 

--- 

Sanji wakes up and is immediately blinded by the sun shining through the window. Ugh. He groans at the dull, pounding feeling behind his eyes and turns to his side to hide from the offending light. He’d definitely had too much to drink last night. 

He snorts into the pillow. He’d drunk so much he’d either dreamed or hallucinated that Zoro could speak French. Wow. His unfiltered imagination really went wild, didn’t it. He can almost hear the seductive words dripping like sex from dream Zoro’s lips, the rough timber of his voice causing a shiver to shoot up his spine and- 

A distinctive, sterile smell cuts through his train of thought. 

Wait. 

Is this the infirmary?  

He cracks open an eye, confirming his theory. This is the med bay all right. He groggily sits up, blanket falling from his torso, and catches a stain on his usually pristine white shirt from the corner of his eye. His chin drops to get a better look. Is that... blood? 

His blood. He’s had this happen enough times to recognise the results of a nosebleed. Grumbling, he throws his legs over the bed to stand up, annoyed at the prospect of having to scrub the stain out of his good shirt, when it finally hits him. The moment his feet touch the floor, the evening and his current predicament suddenly click together and bring his thoughts of hydrogen peroxide and baking powder to a screeching halt. 

A beat passes. 

Like a rubber band stretched tight, a myriad of thoughts is catapulted to the forefront of his mind, jumbling together in a mess of realisations. Zoro speaks French. Zoro sounds unfairly sexy when he does. How long has he spoken French. Where did he even learn it. Zoro probably overheard his conversation with Robin. Zoro understood the filthy things he told him. To his face. Zoro flirted with him. 

His face burns even brighter at the memory of that last one. Oh god. He even called his dick “big” right to his face. 

Well-versed in burying his feelings deep deep down (years of practice), Sanji staggers through his usual morning routine. Once back in the comfort of his kitchen, his hands go into autopilot mode as he preps for a big healthy brunch to revive his nakama from a long night of festivities. 

It takes him a second longer than usual to notice the creak of the door as someone walks into the kitchen, and he doesn’t bother turning around to see who it is, too busy trying to catch up on his cooking schedule from his late rise. Luffy will be up soon, and he needs to satiate the black hole that is his captain’s stomach. 

“Oi. Tu cuisines quoi.”  

(Oi, what’re you cooking.) 

“J’prépare un brunch bien gras. Je suis sûr que ça soulagera la gueule de bois collective.” Sanji absentmindedly answers the annoying swordsman. Tch. Always up in his business.  

(I'm cooking a greasy brunch. I'm sure it will help relieve the collective hangover.)  

“Ça sent bon. Je peux goûter?” (It smells good. Can I taste?) 

The mosshead’s gorilla arm comes into view from over his shoulder as he reaches to dip his hand into the batter Sanji’s whipping up, and the cook slaps his hand away and heavily crushes his foot without even breaking his rhythm.  

“Non. Bas les pattes.” 

(No. Paws off.) 

Zoro makes a disgruntled noise and properly steps up next to him, leaning his back against the counter. From his peripheral vision, Sanji notes him standing there, head turned towards him, looking at him cooking. Just looking. Odd behaviour for a marimo.  

Minutes pass before the swordsman’s voice interrupts the rhythmic sound of Sanji’s cooking, saving him from the panicked screaming in his mind: They’re speaking French. Zoro’s clumsy pronunciation is the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Why are they acting like this is normal. Why is he standing so close. And are they ever going to address what happened last night? All this stops at the sound of: 

“Et toi, je peux te goûter?” (And you, can I taste you?) 

Sanji’s breath hitches and he feels a warmth creep up his spine, to his neck, his ears, and all the way to the top of his head. He’s going to implode.  

Where did he learn to say that. He hears himself squeak out that very question, eyes looking down at the bowl of batter, pointedly ignoring the other man’s heated gaze. 

Zoro's deep voice rumbles in a low chuckle. “Ça ne répond pas à ma question. Ni à celle de hier soir.” 

(That doesn’t answer my question. Nor last night’s question.) 

Callused fingers suddenly grip his chin, and now he’s face to face with Zoro, who to Sanji’s surprise is sporting a dangerously tender expression, his hand moving up to cup his cheek. His voice is softer, this time. 

“Dis moi.” (Tell me) 

His chest aches. “Tell you what?”  

Sanji doesn’t like the vulnerability voicing his feelings in French makes him feel. It’s so much easier to revert to his usual abrasiveness. Safer. “I already told you how you drive me up the wall. What, do you want me to embarrass myself further by telling you how badly I’ve wanted you?” 

An expectant eye stares back at him. Patient. Silent. 

The blonde huffs and raises his flour-dusted hand to the one Zoro is gently cupping his face with. “You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met. Do you have any idea the self-control it takes to not just -“ he feels a tightness in his throat - he didn’t think it would be so hard to actually say it- “de ne pas te dire tous les jours combien je t’aime?” 

(-to not tell you every day how much I love you?) 

He blinks and Zoro’s lips are on his, soft and delicately pressing against his own like he could break at any moment. And boy does he feel like he could. He immediately starts pushing back, angling his head just so to deepen the kiss, melting from the sheer tenderness, his fingers still gripping Zoro’s hand where it lays, rough calluses against his soft skin.  

They briefly part for air but Zoro immediately dives back in like a man starved, tugging the cook by his hips to stand between his legs, and the blonde has to bite back a moan at the manhandling. Sanji’s arms loop around his neck and find purchase in his ridiculous green hair. 

-- 

Zoro will never get enough of kissing this man. It’s simply too intoxicating, and perfect, and everything he’s ever wanted. Which is why it’s with great reluctance that he retreats from this slice of heaven, if only to make sure his own intentions are clear. He can’t believe the bastard beat him to it. He’d walked in here with a plan to test the waters and flirt back- get a little revenge on the blonde from the way he made his brain short circuit the previous night. Maybe test out a few phrases he’d learned in those Harlequin books the pervy cook loves so much. What happened instead was so much better. 

He’s glad to be propped up against the counter because his knees feel weak at the raw, exposed emotion on Sanji’s face when he tells him–  

“Je t’aime.” 

A radiant smile. A wet laugh through misty eyes.  

“Imbécile.” (Idiot) 

The man buries his face in his neck and presses him close in an intimate embrace, holding tight at the back of his shirt. Zoro’s chest swells with love and he holds him back just at tightly, rubbing soothing circles on his lower back. 

“Ton imbécile.” (Your idiot.)