#Yeah... I need the willpower to wake up. That's what I need.

[froggiewrites]

Wanting

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You have never wanted anyone more than you want Sanji. You don't want to admit it, but as you end up alone together on a new island, the universe seems determined to make you. Warnings: Smut, There Was Only One Bed, Possessiveness (a bit from both Sanji and Reader), Reader really matching Sanji's energy on the horniness here Word Count: 5.6k Crossposted from Ao3

You had never wanted anyone more than you had wanted Sanji.

You hated to admit that tragic, embarrassing fact, but it was true all the same. You wanted him. You had always known you’d liked Sanji, from the moment you met and he threw himself at your feet, knew you found him endearing and silly, but wanting him? That was different. Wanting was real. Wanting was demanding. Wanting had you pacing the deck after yet another dirty dream about your silly little cook, trying to calm down enough to be able to face him at breakfast.

Your bare feet hit the grass of the Sunny’s deck as you pray that this will pass, that you’ll be able to see your dear friend without yearning for him so deeply it threatens to rip a hole in your chest, but every time you close your eyes you can still feel his lips against yours and see his face twisted in pleasure. You huff with frustration, throwing yourself down to lay on your back and stare at the sky. Maybe the morning sun will burn out your retinas and you won’t have to worry about seeing his face at all anymore.

“You alright down there?” His voice is still raspy from sleep, and your eyes shoot open as you use all the willpower you have not to rub your thighs together.

“Sanji!” Your voice is an octave higher than you would have liked to admit. “Hi! Good morning! Um, yeah. I’m uh–I’m fine. Peachy.”

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about his hands reaching down to grab you. Don’t think about how his dick would feel in your mouth.

Fuck. Damnit.

“Are you sure? You’re a little red.” You finally look up to see his face, his hair a little mussed and his eyes softened with concern. You want to kiss him. God, you want to kiss him.

“I’m okay, I’m just, uh. A little hot. That’s all.” You focus anywhere but his eyes, those beautiful kind eyes, because you know if you focus on his eyes you’ll do something you’ll regret. Or maybe you wouldn’t regret it at all, because you’d finally know what his lips feel like.

No. Not now. Not ever. You are not all hot and bothered over Sanji. Not your dear friend Sanji, who is looking at you with so much care it makes you physically ache.

“Do you want to come inside? I can make you something to cool you down.”

You picture being alone together in the kitchen, his practiced hands and talented fingers moving with such purpose as he slices and dices, just to make something to please you. You picture those fingers moving with a different purpose, working for a different pleasure. If you go in that kitchen you fear you’ll do something you can’t take back. “I’m alright! I just need to lay here.” Your voice definitely just audibly cracked.

His face falls a little at the idea that you won’t come with him. You try not to let your heart flutter at the idea he wants you around. That he wants you alone with him. “Alright, well come on in if you change your mind, okay? I’ll do–make. I’ll make anything you want.”

What was that?

Your imagination, surely.

“Of course, Sanji. I’ll let you know if I need you–anything.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at each other for a moment before he turns and walks into the kitchen without even a goodbye, and if you didn’t know better you would think the tips of his ears were red. Surely not, though.

You cover your face and groan, rolling onto your front to block out the world. You hear sets of footsteps pass as your other crewmates wake up and decide to leave you to your misery instead of asking. A small mercy, but one you’re grateful for.

Once you finally manage to drag yourself off of the ground, your thoughts filled with simple, unsexy things like cold showers and paint drying, you make your way to the kitchen for breakfast. You come in only on the tail end of the meal and conversation, hearing Nami’s voice dictating how things are going to go on the next island.

“—need to make sure we aren’t separated. There’s an island-wide curfew, and we need to make sure that none of us break it. We don’t want to risk drawing attention to ourselves.” You can’t see her face but you are familiar with the scathing side-eye she’s almost certainly giving Zoro and Luffy right now.

“Why are you looking at me?” Zoro’s voice is defensive in the way it only gets when he knows whatever he’s being accused of is inarguably true.

Nami sighs. “It’s too early for this. Anyway, we’re going to pair up to make sure no one gets stranded alone on the island just in case we miss curfew. I wrote all of our names on pieces of paper, and I’m going to draw–”

“Why do you get to draw?”

“Yeah I wanna draw! I’m the captain!”

“It doesn’t matter who–”

You tune them out for your sanity as you retrieve your plate from Sanji’s outstretched hands. He gives you a soft, sincere smile that cuts to your core. He looks so wonderful like that, when he isn’t trying to woo you and he’s just being…Sanji.

“I kept it warm for you.” He leans closer so you can hear him over the din of voices behind you. Your eyes are level with his chest, his shirt unbuttoned halfway so you can see his entire torso. You need to look away. You need to stop ogling.

You don’t.

“Thank you,” you murmur distractedly. You don’t know if you’re thanking him for the breakfast or for the clear view of his happy trail.

His chest gets closer, and you feel his warm breath against your ear. “Of course. Anything for you.” He’s so close. You could so easily put your lips against his neck. You could bite him right now, make him make such wonderful noises right here in front of everyone.

“Hey, are you two even listening?” Nami’s annoyed voice rings out from the table behind you.

You both stand at attention like navy soldiers the moment she calls for you. Her tone means business. That silly argument earlier seems like it soured her mood for the entire day.

“Of course, Nami!” Your tone rings false, and she gives you a dour look that you shrink under.

“Ugh. Whatever. Important bits: we’re staying paired up on this island. Be back before dark. Don’t draw attention to yourselves. Got it?”

“Yes, Nami!” You both chorus.

“Great. I’ll start pulling names.”

Your captain pouts. “But I–”

“I’m pulling names.”

“Awww.”

The pairs came quickly: Brook and Usopp, Franky and Robin, Luffy and Chopper, and Nami and Zoro (to Sanji’s audible displeasure). You laugh along with everyone else for just a moment at Sanji’s fit before you realize what it means.

“God, if it pisses you off that much then just switch partners with me!” Zoro’s voice is filled with annoyance, his eye turning to you.

Sanji pauses for a moment, his eyes finding yours, and you can see pure and utter euphoria hit him when he realizes. The fury at Zoro’s suggestion hits a moment after. “No way in hell, mosshead!”

The bickering continues, as it always does, and you try to calm your thoughts once again. A day alone with him. A date, perhaps. You imagine at first walking hand in hand while shopping, stopping in a cafe to enjoy together, and other simple domestic things that make a small lovesick smile make its way onto your face.

And then you remember your dream, hear his lovely voice cry out in a broken whine, and your silly daydreams turn to dark alleys and frantic, fumbling hands taking what they need before you’re caught. You imagine getting to run your hands down his torso, following the teasing trail of hair you saw earlier down, wrapping your hands around him and making him whimper.

You stop your thoughts because you are in front of an audience and are going to lose your sanity if you allow yourself another moment of this.

Sanji and Zoro have stopped fighting, and the crew is pairing off as everyone decides their tasks for today. Zoro has been designated Nami’s shopping bag holder, and his protests fall on deaf ears as the conversations continue without him. You and Sanji will be grocery shopping, of course. He has the list ready to go, which means all you need to do is keep him company and try not to get jealous when he inevitably hits on a stranger. You can do that, grit your teeth and give tight-lipped smiles that hopefully hide the taste of iron on your tongue. Maybe if you’re lucky she’ll reject him, refuse to give him the time of day, and he’ll turn to you as he licks his wounds. He’ll find comfort in you, and you’ll gladly give it. You can ease the sting of rejection as he eases the yearning ache in your chest.

As the crew moves to leave the kitchen, Zoro begins to lean over to you, presumably to make some gruff joke about how miserable your day will be with Sanji, wearing a smug grin hiding the boyish amusement he gets from teasing the man he would never admit is his friend. Before you can hear it, give him a soft laugh and a roll of the eyes, your vision is filled with the soft blue of a slightly unbuttoned shirt and there’s a large, gentle hand on the small of your back.

“I said hands off, mosshead.” Sanji’s voice holds more hostility than you’d expect. Most days even their worst of fights have an air of levity to them that they would never admit, but this has real anger behind it, venom spitting from his lips in a way you had never heard. The hand on your back presses firmly, commandingly, in a way that makes your knees weak. “Let’s go, angel.” His voice softens, then, not filled with the candied sweetness he saves for his usual flirtations, but the type of tender sincerity and affection saved only for a small inner circle you are forever grateful to be a part of.

“What, I can’t talk to her? Possessive pervert.” There’s less anger behind Zoro’s words and more confusion, but you can hardly hear it as the door slams firmly shut behind you. Sanji’s breathing is labored with anger, his shoulders drawn tight, but you hardly notice over the feeling of his fingertips on your back, brushing just above your ass, so close to moving lower. His hand moves to your hip instead, grabbing firmly, not enough to bruise but enough that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to.

“Sanji? Are you alright?” Your voice is hesitant as you try to keep the lust out of it, but he seems to take it as discomfort. His eyes widen, his hand immediately leaving you, and you can’t help but let out a soft whimper at the loss. He, of course, takes this as pain.

“Oh god, darling did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I–”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sanji, I’m fine. I was just worried about you.” You give him a reassuring smile, teeth only slightly clenched from concentrating on anything other than how strong he felt, on how good it felt to be held, on the feeling that his fingerprints have been burned onto your skin even though the fabric of your shirt.

His face is troubled, his eyes watery from even the idea of hurting you, but he relaxes when you take his hand in yours, gently rubbing his knuckles with your thumb. “I’m fine. I just can’t stand the idea of you running off with mosshead and him getting you lost. He’d probably leave you alone in the woods somewhere.” The words ring falsely in your ears. He hates to admit it, but he trusts Zoro to protect you, no matter the situation. The safety of the crew is one of the few things they’ll always agree on. He does not and would never think Zoro would leave you for dead.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

Sanji goes quiet, unable to bring himself to disagree, to lie to your face a second time. What was he thinking? “Yeah, I…I know.” His voice is weak and strained, but before you can pry further he starts to walk ahead, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket, clearly shutting down the conversation. You stare longingly at his back for a moment, at his broad shoulders, before following in his footsteps.

Shopping is tense, at first, as he tries and fails to calm down, but you eventually find a rhythm. You both fall into each other, a brush of the hands here, a hand on the arm there, the pull so magnetic you cannot help but follow it. Eventually you find yourselves walking hip to hip, you holding his arm, pressing it to your chest incredibly deliberately as he tries and fails to pretend he doesn’t notice. He keeps sneaking glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and you revel in the attention, preening under his wanting gaze. Your thoughts are about nothing but him, nothing but his shining blue eyes lingering on your chest, nothing but the hard stops he keeps making so your tits press even harder into his bicep.

He’s looking at you. God, he’s looking at you, no one else. Your chest tightens at the idea it could always be like this, that he could be yours.

Neither of you notice how late it’s gotten until the sun is already more than halfway behind the horizon. You’re reluctant to break the tension as he pulls you closer when you walk past a group of rowdy drunks, but you remember Nami’s warnings and your blood runs a little cold.

“Um, Sanji? Do you know what time it is?”

He checks his watch with no sense of urgency, clearly not grasping the situation. “It’s almost nine, why?”

“Curfew is at nine thirty, isn’t it? And the ship is…” you think for a moment, “about an hour away?”

He stops in his tracks, causing your chest to press against him again. “Ah.”

A beat of silence.

“Nami’s going to kill us.”

“I think you’re right.”

“The marines will notice us if we’re out past curfew.”

“Right again, my dear.”

“We’re fucked.”

“Mhm.”

More silence, stretching further and further as reality sinks in.

“I…guess we should find somewhere to stay?” Your voice is a little meek.

“I guess so.” He tries to keep his tone even, but there’s something almost mischievous behind it, something you can’t place. The ends of his lips twitch into an almost smile before he stops it. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you pray it’s something perverted. Maybe today he’ll get brave and act on it and you’ll have an excuse to throw yourself at him, give into the feeling you’ve been fighting all day.

You both attempt to find an inn with two open rooms, but the first three are fully booked with drunks who have beaten you to it. The curfew inches ever closer, and you still have nowhere to stay. If you stay on the street and get caught by the marines, you know Nami will kick your ass for alerting them to your presence. She probably already will for how long you’re delaying your journey. You focus on Sanji’s arm resting around your shoulders to ground yourself and ignore the dread creeping in and settling in your bones.

You finally find an inn that will take you, but you immediately run into a problem. Or what you’ll pretend is a problem.

“Please tell me you have availability.” Sanji’s voice is tinged with desperation as the clock ticks down.

 The woman working the desk seems exhausted, having clearly dealt with much worse customers than yourself earlier. “Is a queen bed okay?”

“A queen bed, like singular?” You put on a good show of acting confused and a little upset, hiding your giddiness well.

“Oh, are you two not–” Her eyes are lingering on where you’re connected, your arms wrapped around his. “I’m sorry, I assumed–well. Um. We only have one room left, I assumed you would want to share it.”

“One room?” Sanji’s voice gets a little loud, and a stranger would mistake this for anger or upset, but you can hear excitement in his tone. He glances at you again, at your face, at your chest, at your legs, admiring you for just a moment, certainly imagining something that would make you flush. “Only one room?”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can do. We really only have one. If that doesn’t work–”

“It works.” You both speak quickly. You pretend you don’t see him visibly fist pump when he thinks you aren’t looking. He pretends he doesn’t see you excitedly rock on your feet, a visible twinkle in your eye. The woman hands you a set of keys, and you’re both off.

As you walk to the room, you talk around it, pretending you both aren’t absolutely thrilled by this turn of events. 

“I can’t believe they only have one room. I know it’s busy, but this place is massive. It’s hard to believe it’s fully booked.” You try to sound annoyed, but a giggle makes its way into your voice as you imagine being tucked into the single bed with Sanji’s arms around you.

“It’s ridiculous. And with only a queen bed? Not even two twins? Or a king? It’s the most inconvenient it possibly could be.” He can’t fight his smile when he says only a queen, as he imagines both of you having nowhere to run except into each other. He could cry at the idea of having an excuse to hold you close, to feel you pressed against him with your head resting on his chest. It’s so domestic he could pretend it was real.

You both perfectly match each other’s steps in this liar’s dance even when the door closes, even when there’s not a single person to call you on it but each other. You cannot admit that you want this, out of fear that it might shatter the feeling of giddy excitement surrounding you both. You cannot put to words what is happening, lest you make it real. Real has worries attached to it, questions of the future and what this all means and what it changes. If you stay quiet you stay in the dream, where instead the only thing you have to think about is the pounding of your heart and the comforting heat of another next to you.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he says, visibly upset by the idea. He has to offer you the choice, he is a gentleman, but his eyes are pleading for you to deny the idea and welcome him into your bed.

“Don’t be silly, Sanji. You don’t need to ruin your back, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You leave out the internal pleading for him to come closer as soon as humanly possible. He can’t know how you may be even more desperate for him than he is for you.

“You’re an angel, my dear.” His smile now is genuinely affectionate, filled with a fondness that makes your chest ache. He looks younger like this, unburdened. “Well, let’s not wait, hm? I bet you’re exhausted.” His hands reach for the buttons of his shirt, and you watch, enraptured, as he slowly undoes each of them, revealing more and more of his body to you. You’ve seen it before, due to his favor for open silly Hawaiian shirts, but you can’t help but swallow at the sight, eyes never daring to look away. He’s so beautiful. He’s so strong.

You wonder if he could break you.

You wonder if you could break him.

He slips the shirt off easily, his hands moving down to his belt, the clink of the buckle sending a shiver down your spine and breaking you out of your trance. You can’t let him undress while you stay fully clothed. It’s rude. You let your hands slide down to the hem of your shirt, swiftly removing it, and he stops in the middle of unbuttoning his pants to stare, jaw slacked. You can see him grow hard at the sight of your chest as his eyes bore holes into you. His gaze is burning, his pupils blown out, his breathing growing heavy.

“Sanji?” You reluctantly call out to break the spell, not wanting your masquerade to end quite this soon.

“Yes? What is tit–it?” His eyes haven’t moved a centimeter, honed in on where your breasts spill over your bra.

“You’re staring.” You keep your tone teasing. His eyes finally trail up to your face, where he finds a twitching smile as you try to hold back your giggles. His expression shifts from lustful to lovestruck as his eyes soften and his smile widens.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, breathlessly.

“So are you.” His smile widens further as he finally looks away from you, suddenly bashful. His cheeks are flushed slightly pink, and you finally break and huff out a laugh. It isn’t seeing you half naked that gets him, or the idea of sharing a bed, or the lustful thoughts he’s certainly been having all day. It’s a simple compliment, not even a particularly good one, that flusters your dear cook. It makes you want to take his face in your hands and place kisses all over it, with a tenderness that would make its way under his skin, marking him as well and truly loved. It makes you want to drop to your knees and worship him, take him into your mouth and not stop until he’s utterly spent and crying from the overstimulation. It makes you want him, in every meaning of the word.

But you don’t want to break the illusion yet, still a little nervous about being the first to step over the line, so instead you slide your thumbs beneath the waistband of your jeans and quickly step out of them. You make your way to the bed, making a show of throwing yourself onto your back, bouncing a little as his eyes eagerly take in the movement of your breasts, your thighs, every inch of you. After allowing him a moment to admire, you shift to pull the blankets over yourself, tucking yourself in. You’re going to play your part. But you’re allowed a moment of fun. You look up at him, doe eyes blinking and arms outstretched welcomingly. “Sanji, aren’t you coming to bed?”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes turning to your face, and in that moment you swear you can see into his head. You see dreams of the two of you intertwined, not sexually, but just…together. You see his head resting against your chest, eyes closed in absolute bliss. You see the soft sunlight of the morning bathing you both in gold, warming you to your bones. You see a different scene, the two of you in a more intimate embrace, bodies pressing closer than you thought possible, hips moving and hands everywhere, a tender moment that almost feels like worship. You see an entire life together, every little moment, and you see Sanji’s eyes fill with tears at the idea of it.

He rips his pants off, practically diving into the bed with you, and his arms wrap around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He buries his face into your chest, nosing between your breasts, and somehow still keeping up this silly ruse, he mumbles, “This bed’s pretty small. Guess we’ll have to get even closer.” He pulls you tighter, and you’re almost sure he can’t breathe from how much he’s pressed his nose into your skin. You giggle, and you can feel him smile against you. He places a kiss right against your sternum, gentle and affectionate, before pressing one up slightly higher, then one higher than that, as he makes his way up to your neck. His facial hair rubs against your skin, the ticklish feeling making you laugh even more. He places one final kiss where your jaw meets your neck before pulling up to whisper in your ear. “Can I please kiss you? I think I’ll die if I don’t.”

“Please do,” you whine out. He doesn’t wait another moment before your lips crash together, teeth briefly clacking together in his excitement before it softens into something more tender and intimate. He groans softly into your mouth, lips parting, welcoming you in. You gladly accept, and he fully pins you beneath him and you explore each other’s mouths.

His hands slide underneath you, one pulling you upward into him as the other fumbles with the clasp of your bra. The moment it releases, he swiftly tosses it behind him, breaking your kiss to stare at your chest. His mouth is slightly agape as he pants, eyes wide, taking in the sight. He looks as though he wants to speak, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches out as he takes in every inch of your breasts, before he eventually reaches a shaking hand out to brush his fingers against your skin. He lets out a quiet breath of awe. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. A goddess. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You took the words out of my mouth, Sanji. This is a dream come true.” Your voice is quiet with the vulnerable admission, and his eyes leave your chest to meet yours.

“You dreamed of this?” He sounds like he really truly can’t fathom the idea.

“Dozens of times. Almost every dream I have is about you. Last night I–” You stop yourself in embarrassment, face flushing.

He leans closer with an intensity he usually saves for battle. “Last night? You dreamed about me last night?” His eyes are boring into you, stripping you bare, staring straight into your heart and soul.

“Yes,” you softly admit. “I dreamed about you last night. About this. The real thing is so much better.”

“Oh god,” he breaths out, before he kisses you again, hard and fast. His hands envelop your tits, groping and squeezing. You can’t stop yourself from keening into his mouth when his fingers brush against your nipples, and you can feel him grind against you when he hears. His hardness presses against your bare thighs, showing how badly he wants you. He grabs at you like you’ll disappear between his fingers, fade away like all of the dreams that have been haunting you.

Another pinch at your nipples makes you cry out, and you pull back, begging, “Sanji, please, more!” You want to feel his fingers inside you, his tongue, his cock. Any and everything he could give you you want, and you feel so sure that he would gladly let you take it. He would give you the heart out of his chest if you asked.

He moans as his bulge rubs against your thighs again. “Fuck, of course, angel. Whatever you want.” He slides lower, and you feel his fingers slide along the fabric covering your slit. He carefully traces a path up to your clit, lightly pressing against it through your panties, making you suck in a breath. His eyes travel between your face and his fingers, taking note of your reactions.

He eventually slides off your panties, letting out a soft noise of appreciation once he’s able to see all of you. He leans closer, mumbling something you don’t quite catch, before his mouth is on you.

“Ah, Sanji!” You cry out in surprise, your thighs clenching together, and you can feel him moan against you at the pressure. His tongue moves expertly, which you suppose makes sense; Sanji is a man who knows how to appreciate a good meal. His hands reach up to grip your thighs, not to pull them apart, but to pull you even closer, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he dives further into you. His nose brushes your clit, making you keen again, and you can feel him smile against your cunt. 

You feel a familiar tension building in your gut as his tongue shifts to your clit and he inserts a finger, then two, then three inside of you, curling in a come hither motion that makes you see stars. You get noisier and noisier as the coil tightens, and Sanji only grows more enthusiastic with every moan and cry he manages to pull from you. His hips are grinding desperately against the mattress beneath you. Your thighs continue to tighten around his head, and you worry you’ll crush him, but you imagine that’s the way he’d want to go.

With one final flick of Sanji’s tongue and push of his fingers, you come unraveled around him, nearly screaming his name as you’re hit with white-hot pleasure. His fingers work you through it, only stopping when your thighs go slack around him and you let out a soft whimper. He crawls up to see your face, to see the evidence of his work, and you can see he’s absolutely covered in your wetness, his facial hair soaked in you. His pupils are blown out, his eyes nearly entirely black and looking nearly maddened with lust. He kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his lips.

“Please, please let me feel you. I need to feel you around me. Please.” His voice is ragged as he pants, a whine behind it as he begs to fuck you.

“Please,” you whimper back.

His fingers hook below the waistband of his boxers, and he slides out of them slowly. His cock stands proudly, long and thick, leaking precum. He gives you no time to admire it, swiftly lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing himself into you, moaning into your ear at the feeling.

“Darling, you feel heavenly,” he groans. He sits still for a moment, giving you time to adjust and just enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him. “I could never have imagined how perfect you are. The dreams never did you justice.” You try to move your hips, but his hands are holding you still. You let out a whine, pathetic and wanton, and his lips tug into a smile. “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes, god, yes.”

He pulls himself out slowly, before reentering a little faster, the next time a little faster than that, increasing his speed bit by bit until he’s relentlessly pounding you into the mattress. He mumbles endless praise for you that gets lost between his moans, only allowing you to make out princess and tight and perfect. The room is filled with these small praises and the sound of slapping skin. You lean up to kiss him, but he doesn’t let you, instead staring intensely into your eyes, determined to see your face when you cum.

He watches your face as your orgasm grows closer, his hips speeding up and his fingers reaching for your clit. His gaze is loving, admiring, nearly worshiping, and his words at some point turn into a prayer: for you, for him, for what you’ve created here in this room to last long after the door opens and you return back to a life where this becomes real. Your orgasm hits you harshly, making you cry out, and he watches enraptured as you come apart around him. He tries to keep his pace steady, but his hips stutter as he cums inside of you, filling you with warmth.

He stays like that, cock inside of you, eyes locked onto yours. The only sound in the room is your heaving breaths, the only sensation either of you feel is the warmth of the other grounding you here.

“I think I love you,” he murmurs. “Can I say that? Can I make it real?”

You wrap your arms around him, pulling his head to your chest, cradling him there. “Please do. I want it to be real. I want you. I love you.”

He adjusts, pulling out of you, crawling up slightly to fully make his home in your chest. His shoulders shake, and you hear a sniffle. You don’t say anything, simply running your hands gently through his hair, across his cheeks, down his back.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.” He nuzzles his face even deeper into you.

“I think I’ve wanted you just as long, even if I didn’t realize it.”

“I adore you.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you think maybe this confession is deeper and more difficult than his first. 

“I adore you too, Sanji. You’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met.”

You sit there, basking in each other’s presence, enjoying a world where this gets to be real. You drift off to sleep peacefully, with the reassurance that when you wake this won’t just have been another troubling dream. Nothing is more real and grounding than his arms wrapped around you, his leg thrown over you, his lips still lightly pressed against your skin. You know you’ll see him tomorrow, shining brilliantly in the sun, and walk back hand in hand. You still dream of him, but the lovesick smile he gives you when you open your eyes is better than any dream you’ve ever had.

[moondirti]

pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.

honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up

PART 1 • PART 2

tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.

It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.

Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.

Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.

Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.

“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.

“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.

“Yeah.”

“Reckon I know the road.”

Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.

Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?

30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.

They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.

They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.

The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.

“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”

And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.

(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)

“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”

“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.

“Si.”

“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.

“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.

No one speaks for a while. Then–

“I don’t think I should go home right now.”

Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.

“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”

Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”

“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.

Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.

“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”

“Not what I meant, pet.”

You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.

Johnny bridges the gap.

“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”

next part

[moonstruckme]

OOOOH Can i hop on the dr!rem train?!?! I would love to see how he is with someone who just doesn’t really take care of themselves. Like if something’s hurting they just power through. But of course he’s a dr so he’d know 🤔🤔💕💕💕💕

Ofc you can! This is precisely what I need him for haha. Also, when I wrote this my foot was still really hurting and now it feels tons better, so I think writing for him is healing me! Thanks for requesting my love <3

Doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus looks up from his laptop when you hold a bowl of pasta up in front of him enticingly. “Aw, thanks, sweetheart,” he says, taking it from you. He’s been so caught up in his paperwork he hadn’t even heard you bustling around in the kitchen, but you’d been thoughtful enough to bring him his dinner on the couch rather than call him to the table. “You’re too good to me. I’ll be finished here in a minute.” 

“It’s no problem,” you say with a smile. “Oh, I forgot I made you tea, too. Just a second.” 

You go back towards the kitchen, and Remus thinks to go back to his laptop for the interval of your absence, but something about the way you’re moving catches his attention. You’re walking oddly, shifting an almost imperceptible amount of your weight to one side. It’s not quite a limp, but there’s a stiffness there. 

You disappear into the kitchen for half a second, and Remus watches you carefully when you return. Your strides are as quick as if nothing were amiss, but there’s definitely something bothering you. It doesn’t look like the problem is in your foot, or your knee, but maybe your hip…

You pass him the tea, and Remus takes it quickly, chiding you for holding the hot part to pass him the handle. You roll your eyes as you sit, constantly discounting what you consider to be your boyfriend’s overcaution. You never worry about yourself, Remus thinks. Everything that happens to you is secondary, of little concern compared to whatever’s going on with everyone else. You don’t watch out for yourself, and you don’t always welcome others doing it for you either. It makes being someone who loves you an occasionally worrying task. 

“How was your day, dovey?” Remus asks, shutting his laptop to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared for him. “I’ve been so focussed on work I’ve barely talked to you since I got home. How are you doing?” 

Your smile is tinged with bemusement, but they’re not such odd questions as to draw much suspicion. “Don’t worry about it, I know it’s important stuff. I’m good, honey, how are you?”

“I’m good too,” he says, twirling pasta around his fork and inhaling the steamy aroma of the herbs you’ve mixed in. “Fantastic, now.” You blush, looking down at your own bowl. “Do much walking around today?” 

Now your brows furrow, and you bring your fork to your mouth, chewing pensively. “Some,” you answer after a while. “Why do you ask?”

“I just noticed you’re walking a bit funny,” he says as casually as he can, knowing too much attention will only lead to you belittling more than you’re already inclined. “Is there something bothering you, love?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say, looking back to your bowl as though forking your pasta suddenly requires your undivided attention. “Think I twinged something in my leg earlier. It’s not bad, it’s just one of those things, you know? I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll be fine.” 

It takes a heap of willpower to keep Remus from rolling his eyes. That’s your go-to reaction anytime something’s bothering you: power through and hope it goes away on its own. As someone who knows better, it nettles him incessantly. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? I might be able to help.” 

“Because it’s not a big deal,” you say through a mouthful. “Anyway, you were busy.” 

“Never too busy for you,” he hums, setting down his plate to lean closer to you, and fine, he’s pandering. If making light of this is what’s going to get you to let him help, that’s what he’ll do. “Let me have a look?” he asks you sweetly.

You look at him, sucking a stray noodle into your mouth. “What, now?” 

“Sure,” he says, already moving to perch on the coffee table across from you. “Just to make sure that it’s fine and I don’t need to run to the drug store before it closes or anything.”

You sigh like you’re doing him a big favor. “Okay, but it’s really not bad. You don’t need to worry.” 

He hums noncommittally. “Straighten your leg out for me?” You do, and he takes your foot in his hand. “What part hurts, dove?” 

“Kinda, like—” You strain to lift one hip off the couch, touching the back of your thigh, “—like, all down here, ish.” 

Remus cocks his head. “Does it hurt when you flex your foot?” 

“A little,” you reply, nonchalant. 

He nods, standing. “Okay, I think I get the picture,” he says. “Lay down for me, please?”

You give him a deadpan look. “Rem, I’m just trying to eat.” 

“It’ll only take a second.” 

With an eye-roll that you make sure he sees, you set your plate down next to his on the coffee table, laying on your back. Remus sits by your feet, lifting one of your calves so he can see the back of your thigh. He runs a knuckle over the skin there, noticing it’s a bit more swollen than your other leg. “Here?” he asks you.

“Yeah.” 

Remus laughs silently at the sudden tight quality to your voice, thinking he knows the cause. He takes a detour to test his theory, migrating his touch further down until his knuckle skims the crease of your buttcheek. 

“Careful,” you murmur, tone slightly teasing. 

Remus tries and fails to suppress his grin as he forces himself back on task. “It looks like it’s your hamstring,” he says. “It’s a bit more swollen, but in a lot of cases there’ll be bruising too, and I don’t see any of that. Do you remember when you hurt it?” 

“Mhm.”

Remus decides not to question you further on that for now; he’ll lecture you on telling him these things more quickly later. “Did you hear any sort of popping noise?”

“No,” you say, sounding unsure. “I think I would’ve noticed, right?”

“You would have,” Remus reassures you, relieved. “It’s probably just a pulled muscle, then. I’m going to test it really quickly to be sure, okay?”

“Okay,” you say warily, and Remus has you flex your foot, taking your leg in both hands as he straightens it and lifts it upward. You hiss, and he stops. 

“That hurts?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice is tight again, now for the wrong reasons, and Remus lowers your leg carefully. 

“Alright, sorry.” He kisses your knee. “Well, at least it shouldn’t take too long to heal. I’ll get you an ice pack when we’re done eating, and I want you to elevate it and take ibuprofen.” 

You sit up, clearly ready for your boyfriend’s mollycoddling to be over as you grab for your bowl. “Already am,” you say with a smile that Remus supposes is meant to be reassuring. Instead, he frowns.

“Sweetheart.” He gives you an admonishing look. “You were taking painkillers for this and you weren’t going to tell me about it?” 

“Don’t be mad at me,” you say lightly. “I made you pasta.” 

Now it’s Remus who’s sighing laboriously, pressing a reluctant kiss to the side of your head. “I suppose that does make up for everything, doesn’t it?”

[enhaheeseung]

Here to stay - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warning: mentions of sex, angst, heartbreak, fluff, crying.

Genre: fuck buddies, smut, mdni!

WC: 2,881k maybe a little more

Continuation of “Come & Go”

It's been one month since heeseung blocked you.

One whole month.

It was weird not hearing from you. It felt even more weird not getting up at two in the morning to run to your place and pleasure you.

Because he had cut all ties with you, he was sleeping earlier these days, but funny enough. His body was still waking him up at 2 in the morning, the time you'd usually call for him.

He felt pathetic cause his body was betraying his willpower to move on from you. Even if he was fighting for his mind to be occupied elsewhere, his heart still ached for you.

He was currently lying in bed, his phone clutched in his hand tightly, thumb itching to unblock your number.

"Fuck” he curses out loud and shuts his phone off, trying his best to respect the deal he made with Jay and ultimately trying to get over you, but it was so damn hard.

After nearly a year of being with you, it felt impossible to forget you. It felt impossible to move on with his life and find someone who would respect and love him for who he is and not just his body.

But fuck if he had to choose between you and true love, he's definitely picking you. Yeah, it hurt to be cast aside after being used by you, but it hurt so good that he'd always go back for more and more until you finally had your way and were done with him.

"Laying in bed all day isn't going to help" Jay opens his bedroom door without even knocking.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out after the first week." heeseung rolls his eyes and sits up against his bed frame.

"The guys and I are going out. Do you want to come?" Jay fiddles with the lock on the doorknob.

"I'll pass." heeseung runs his fingers through his messy hair, sighing deeply.

"Well, the guys were hoping you could come so…" Jay murmurs.

"I'll make it up to all of you later. I still just need some time," Jay nods in understanding.

"Take your time." Jay slowly backs out of heeseung's room and closes the door silently.

"I just need some time," Heeseung quietly repeats to convince himself that all he needs is time, but even when he says it out loud, something in the pit of his stomach just doesn't feel right.

-

You sighed as you sat down at your desk at work, completely stressed out of your mind.

You could already tell you were going to have a headache when you got home tonight cause today has been nothing but a shit day.

It's one of those days where, just a month ago, you'd already be planning to call heeseung over so he could work his magic on your body and take all your stress away.

But no, because he blocked you cause he wanted more from you, and when he saw he wasn't getting it, he knew when to walk away.

You hate how you took him for granted. He was a great guy, amazing at sex and even better at cuddling you, and he also wasn't shy about making his like for you known.

You were just a piece of shit that disregarded him as a person with feelings and only saw him for what he could give to you, which was mind-blowing sex.

If you could have a do-over, then you surely would, one where you confessed to him and realized your feelings for him a whole hell of a lot sooner.

But you let your fear of being lied to and cheated on get in the way of your true happiness.

But could you even be blamed? Every man you were with did that to you, hence why you gave up on relationships and only had sexual transactions now.

But even you have to admit that Lee heeseung wasn't like Every Man. unfortunately, it took you too long to figure that out, and now here you are, heartbroken again because you let the past ruin your future. You did your best to stop that from happening and it still wasn't enough.

At least now a great guy like him could find someone who cared about him and loved him the way he deserved instead of someone like you who hid your feelings and was only going to confess after a whole year of practically using his body.

It hurt, but you hope he's happy with someone that's his equal and not a total piece of shit like you.

Who are you kidding?

It's not that simple; you wish it was, but you were going to be feeling this pain for days, if not months. Yeah, it was selfish of you to still want him around even after you played with his feelings for years, but it couldn't be helped.

If only you could have realized that he was worth taking a chance on months ago, maybe he'd be your boyfriend, maybe you'd be living together, maybe you'd be married and planning to have a family and live happily ever after.

The thought brings tears to your eyes, so you push your fairytale ideas to the side, focusing back on work before all your co-workers notice you shedding a few tears.

-

Another week had gone by, and heeseung felt the same. He knows they say it takes three months to get over someone, but how could he stay away from you that long? It was impossible, and that's why he's sneaking out of his and Jay's shared apartment to go to your place; being away from you was killing him inside. Even if you'd only use his body for sex and kick him out, it was still better than not being able to see or touch you at all.

He arrived some odd minutes later and jogged up the stairs to your building, heart racing in his chest, and he just hoped you wouldn't turn him away. He hopes you still at least just want him for sex. That'd be enough for him. Just knowing that you wanted something from him would be enough. He knows it's pathetic. He knows he deserves better, but he wants you, and he doesn't care if that makes him a loser. All he cares about is you.

The clock had just hit 2 in the morning, and you didn't know why you were holding your phone as if you could call him still, but you were. Maybe it was muscle memory, or maybe it was the only thing holding your emotions in check.

You laughed at yourself pathetically, but deep down, a part of you felt like you deserved this pain, and with that thought, you set your phone aside as the silence crept up on you, and instead of wallowing in self pity you were just going to go to sleep and wait for tomorrow so you could feel all these emotions again just this time it'd be a new time and a new date.

The knock on your door stops you in your tracks on your way to your bedroom you shake your head in disbelief because now you were even hallucinating the familiar sound of his knock.

You continued to walk to your bedroom until you heard it again and again, and there was no way that was just a hallucination, especially when the knocks became more frequent.

Heeseung was relentless outside your door. He wasn't going to stop until you let him in. He's sure you probably saw him outside the peephole by now, and he's not sure if you still even care to answer since he was the one who blocked you but fuck it, he was here now, and he wasn't taking no for an answer he needed you, and he needed you tonight.

He heard a soft click, the same one he always heard when you unlocked the door for him. His knocks came to a halt when he saw a faint light peaking through the crack of your door, and within a second, he stepped inside and slammed the door shut behind him, closing any type of personal space you once had. "Heeseun-" he doesn't even let you speak before he's jumping your bones, hands squeezing your waist as his lips met yours in a rushed kiss.

"Sorry I blocked you," he breathes out against your lips, still holding you tightly so you can't slip through his fingers. "Sorry I stopped coming, sorry I didn't answer," you moan into the kiss, hands strongly gripping his shoulders as you try to grasp what's happening.

You were shocked to see him, but you couldn't comprehend anything before you were making out with him, and right now, nothing else mattered but your lips working in perfect sync with each others.

"It was my friend's idea" he started trailing kisses down your neck, his large veiny hands cupping your tits roughly, causing you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. "Said I should stop seeing you." he nibbled the skin of your neck as you moaned quietly. "But I couldn't. No matter how much you use me, I still want you," he whispers in your ear, his hot breath leaving a tingle running down your spine.

"Wait," you tell him breathlessly and push his shoulders, creating some distance between the two of you.

"Can't." he steps closer, lips pressing roughly against yours until you push him back again. "Please, I'll do anything. Please, just don't kick me out," he begs in a whiny voice. "I don't care if you only want me for sex. As long as you want me, that's enough."

"Heeseu-" he leans into you, his voice wobbly as he says the words he's been wanting to say for what feels like forever.

"I love you." he presses his face against your neck, inhaling your scent as his arms naturally wrap around you.

You hear him sniffle softly, and your heart breaks because none of what he was saying was how you felt, maybe in the very beginning, but definitely not now. "Hey," you cup his cheeks, making him look up at you, his watery eyes boring into your own. "I don't just want you for sex, okay, you're so much more than that, and I can't believe I'm saying this cause I never thought I'd utter the words again but fuck heeseung, I love you too. I love you so much," you whisper, hands running along his neck soothingly.

That's it. Lee heeseung had finally broken all your walls and infiltrated your heart. You thought they were impenetrable, but it turns out all you needed was someone who actually truly cared about you and not someone who was just using you for their own satisfaction.

He looks back and forth between your eyes, obviously confused by your words, and you laugh lightly because of his cute expression. "You don't have to say that just because I di-" You shut him up with one long-awaited meaningful kiss.

He was beyond happy to hear you saying those words to him, but this couldn't be real, could it? He must still be back at his apartment, dreaming of this moment that he had dreamt of a million times.

But your next words proved otherwise. "I know it's sudden, baby, I know, but I love you," You peck his cute pouted lips. "I just couldn't bring myself to tell you how I truly felt. I've been hurt so many times in the past, and I was just scared to move on with you, but I should have seen you were different from the start. I should have never strung you along and played with your feelings. I'm so sorry for everything, and I'm just so happy you're here now, and I can tell you how much you mean to me. You're so perfect, Lee Heeseung," you told him sincerely while stroking his soft cheek with your thumb, eyes full of nothing but love. "And I would be the luckiest girl on the planet to have all your love, and if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to give that same love back to you."

He's grinning from ear to ear, elated by the three words you just confessed to him.

He expected this to go so much differently than it has, but he wouldn't want it any other way. He can't believe you loved him back, like you actually felt the same way for him as he felt about you, and that was absolutely mind-blowing. And now that he thinks about it, he needs to have more than just a few words with Jay, but that could wait till later. Right now, he's gonna enjoy this surreal moment with you, the love of his life.

"Can you say all that again? You lost me at I love you," he chuckles, squeezing you in his arms tightly.

You giggle while nodding and repeating every single thing you said, and he listens very, very intently, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you with so much love.

"So maybe you can prove it to me in your room on your bed. How does that sound?" He scrunched his face up, laughing softly as you nodded your head shyly. "Yeah?" He grins.

"Yeah, I'll prove that and so much more, my love," you whisper seductively, and he visibly goes red, causing you to bite down on your lip to hold back your smile, and you can't help but think he looks so good all shy like that.

How did you ever get so lucky for him to give you another chance?

"God, I'm so happy," he sighs dreamily, staring at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes, and you felt so full knowing that he cared about you so much and was never shy to express it.

He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to bed. "I love you." he pecks the tip of your pretty nose, laying you down gently on your bed and hovering above you. "So much," he adds while leaning down and connecting your lips with his.

"I love you more." You smile so hard your cheeks start to hurt. "And for the record, you make me happier."

"Hey!" He whines cutely. "You make me the most happy."

And who were you to argue with that? Especially when his soft pink lips were colliding so perfectly with yours.

-

It was the morning after you and heeseung were lying down in bed together, his arm around you while your head rested on his bare chest. "Morning," you whisper, looking out the window and tickling his chest with your fingertips.

"Hmm, morning lovely," he chuckles and wraps his other arm around you. "Love you," he says with his raspy morning voice.

"Love you too." You kissed his chest all over, hearing him giggle from below you.

It's funny how it had been years since you said those words to a love interest, but with him, it just came so naturally, like you had been saying it for years.

"I gotta make it up to you, hee," you pout, tracing the faint line between his pecs.

"No baby, this is enough. Just you and me here now is all that matters," he assures you, but that's not good enough. He deserves the world.

"I know, but I want to do something for you," you tell him seriously.

"You don't take no for an answer, hmm?" He smiles.

"Not this time," you say matter-of-factly.

"Tell me what you want to do for me, baby. You were already amazing last night; I don't know what more I could ask for." You blush, hearing his words and feeling little butterflies erupt in your stomach. No one has ever talked to you as sweetly as he has. "Plus, you told me your side, and I understand it's hard, but I promise you I'll treat you right love, be the man you deserve."

"Oh, hee." You looked up at him, and your eyes started to water.

"It's only what you deserve" he taps your nose, making you smile, and now you want to give this man the whole world.

"That's it get ready," you tell him and hop off the bed. You were going to take him anywhere he wanted, buy him whatever he wanted, wine, and dine him the whole nine yards. Whatever he wanted, it was his, no questions asked.

"Okay, baby, but first, come take a picture with me so I can send it to Jay." You hop back in bed and take a cute picture of you both hiding under the sheets, with only your eye smile showing he sent it. Caption it: my girlfriend and me.

"Girlfriend?" You ask him.

"Don't act surprised. You know it was coming sooner or later," he laughs.

"Boyfriend!" You cheer after a few moments of letting this set in and tackle him in the biggest hug ever.

"I like the sound of that. Say it again, baby." you both smile, looking at each other completely lovestruck.

Heartbreak comes and goes, but this love is here to stay.

[END]

Thanks so much for reading! Please leave feedback. I love you all and hope you enjoyed it since everyone was asking for a lot.2 lol🖤

Anyone who wants to be on the perm tag list or regular just lmk cause I keep forgetting.

[cyberrose2001]

Under Pressure

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

GRAHH SURPRISE!!!!

Relic and I have been... discussing... very hard about an ask they got a couple days ago so I wrote this eheh (THANK YOU FOR DISCUSSING THIS WITH ME AND LETTING ME WRITE THIS ILY)

Also please yell at me if I forgot any warnings!

Loosely based of this ask over on @callsign-relic's blog

Warnings: Human reader, Giant/Tiny, Non-Con(?), Nocturnal emission, Crack fic(?)

Word count: 1,887

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Rodimus denies it every time, but he's a heavy sleeper. He snores like a congested rhino; he constantly sets twelve alarms that only barely stir him from his slumber. Despite being captain of the ship, his sleep schedule is far from tip-top shape.

And no, you're not a stalker. You're just Rodimus' observant little 'pet' human, always there, with a California king on his bedside dresser. Yeah, you're treated like royalty by an incredibly hard-to-deny hot alien robot.

So, as the ship ventured further into deep space and the nights got colder, you whined and begged to stay with him.

Rodimus was very hesitant to let you join him in the berth. As much as he cared about you and would kill an army for you, he didn't want to accidentally kill you, which was very much a possibility in any scenario on this ship. But he caved. You had mastered the sad, wet cat look, and Rodimus had the willpower of a rock.

Relishing in victory, you're curled up comfortably against Rodimus' lower plating for the third consecutive night in a row, warmed by the large servo of a sleeping giant. The entire palm of his hand covers your back in subconscious protection, and every so often, you feel a twitch of one digit. It's tranquility and a rare comfort, the touch of another you haven't felt since being on earth.

Until he rolls over.

Rodimus, choking on his snores, flips over onto his stomach and nearly tosses you off the berth if not for the grip he has on you. Despite almost winding you and making an audible 'Oof' sound, he doesn't wake up, his unconscious body assuming another comfortable position.

It takes you a few moments to register what the fuck just happened, but you realise that you're now underneath Rodimus. Almost his entire body weight is now pressed against you and pins you to the berth.

Oh god, you think to yourself.

This is less than ideal; this was not supposed to happen. How the hell are you, a tiny ass human, supposed to get out from under him? You probably shouldn't even be alive right now with how restricted your breathing is, not to mention how hard he flopped on top of you. But thankfully, with how Rodimus' legs have fallen into position, it leaves you with just enough room for your chest to rise and fall.

"God." You whine, muffled as your cheeks squish against his abdominal plating.

Your mind runs wild as you try to think of a way out. Maybe he'll just roll over again soon? God, you hope so; you can handle only so much weight, and Rodimus feels like he could hold down a cargo ship. Probably because he can.

But until then, however long that may be, you need to try something at least.

"Rodimus?" You try to wiggle but to no avail. He has you pinned pinned, and you use what little breath you have to yell out to him, "Hello? Are you awake or what?"

A loud, seemingly exaggerated snore replies to you. He's still deep in recharge, ruining any chance you have of waking him up yourself. You try to use your nails to scratch the surface of his frame, hoping it would tickle him or something, but that doesn't work either.

"Great." You roll your eyes, only you would ever end up in this type of situation. If only you had listened to Rodimus when he first said no, then you wouldn't be currently experiencing a near death experi-

"Y/n..." Rodimus' hoarse voice crackles above you, sending vibrations through your bones.

"Oh, thank god," You sigh in relief. You attempt to wiggle around some more, hoping to get his attention this time, "Listen, can you get off me now? This kinda hur-"

You squeak softly in pain as his sharp pelvis presses against you, and you hear your name again. This time, though, the tone of his voice came out as a whine, like a soft plea.

Because of where you were positioned before you became a pea under a princess' tower of mattresses, Rodimus' lower panels rested right against your stomach. This means you can feel his panels start to bulge slightly.

Oh no, you think to yourself bleakly once again. You're not sure how similar Cybertronian anatomy is to humans, apart from a crude explanation by an engex drunk Swerve. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're feeling him getting hard. Putting two-and-two together using two out of the five senses, you've realised that Rodimus is nearly boner deep in a wet dream.

And not to assume, but you're thinking that the star of the show is you.

It's also the wrong time to cackle to yourself about getting crushed by your crush.

You might have some issues to work out after with Rung.

"Oh fuck," You reasonably panic, trying to push against his heavy frame weakly with your pinned arms, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

You start to thrash against Rodimus when your arms fail, your tiny body rubbing up against him. This doesn't help at all, you've come to realise but actually digs you in a deeper hole as he begins to rock his pelvis into you.

Rodimus moans your name again as he sleepily grinds against you. Whatever he's dreaming of, it must be an insanely hot pornographic fantasy of you. The bulge grows bigger, pining you down further into the berth. He shutters and lets out a soft groan before his plating shifts, and you feel a very thick, very hard, and very hot object slide up against you.

Oh god, it's his dick.

Swerve might not have told you all the details, but he seemed to conveniently leave out how fucking huge Cybertronian cocks are.

As if you thought this couldn't get any more debilitating, you now have the head of Rodimus' spike pressing against your face. It's as if the Alaskan bull worm had slithered up between yourself and Rodimus to give you a kiss. The behemoth of baggage has already started leaking what you would believe would be the Cybertronian equivalent to pre-cum, smearing all across your face.

At this significant turn of events, you've realised you have come to a crossroads.

Either struggle and continue to wiggle and wrangle your way out from under him, but risk pleasuring him, whether or not he could feel you squirming against him anyway with how small you are compared to it. Or, the more realistic and obtainable outcome, lie still and take it until he wakes up from an orgasm.

Who are you kidding? You don't have much of a choice at all. Both options risk you drowning in alien robot cum. It's wishful thinking as Rodimus starts to rut against your entire body again.

"Y/n..." He whimpers again, though very garbled and unintelligible. Every roll of his hips causes more pre-cum to dribble against your face and down your chest, and with each, it spreads all around in between yourself and his train-sized spike. Making an absolute mess of you.

If you weren't getting humped up against right now, you would indeed find a way to kill him for ruining your only set of pajamas.

"Rodimus-" You gag as a spurt of pre-cum falls into your mouth, "Guh- Rodimus stop-"

His work of venting increases, and so does his rutting. The comatose mech gasps and hitches his breath, oblivious to your cries and pleas for him to stop. He pushes up against you in heated desperation, fucking into your soft body like a grind pad.

"Rodimus! Wake the fuck up!" You start to heat up yourself; the increased pressure and friction of his plating will give you a fucked up version of carpet burn if he doesn't wake up. Sweat drips from your skin, adding even more lubricant to his incessant grinding.

"Wha- Oh, Primus!" Rodimus rears his drool-covered helm and cries out in equal confusion and unrestrained pleasure. He's woken up by his overload as he shoots his load up against you, flooding the minimal empty space left between you both with hot transfluid.

"Oh god-" You couldn't close your mouth in time when a spurt of transfluid hit you in the face, causing you to cough and spit it back out, only for more to splat you in the face.

Rodimus moans tiredly, shuttering violently as his spike pulses and leaks the remainder of his overload against the berth.

Or what he thought was the berth. Since when did he use a self-service mod on his spike? Especially when he shares a room with-

"Hey!" Cough, "Are you done?"

His optics slam open in horrific realisation.

"Oh no," Rodimus rolls over onto his back, his softened wet spike flopping against his abdominal plating, "Oh no, no, no..."

He looks down where he once lay, and his face plates flush a bright blue. Laying in a puddle of his transfluids was you, his little human, sopping wet with a highly unimpressed look on your tiny face.

"Oh Primus, Y/n," Rodimus scoops you up in his servos, gently tossing you from hand to hand as he wrings them off his transfluids, "I am so sorry, I- frag what was I thinking!" Rodimus babbles and holds you to his face, "Are you okay? God, I'm so stupid-"

"Ughh," You lay limply in his palm, exhausted and out of breath, "After that... I don't know anymore."

Rodimus hides his blush with a servo before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm glad you're okay, but what were you doing down there?"

"Great question," You lift your head up to deadpan him, then eventually drag yourself to sit up. Sticky, pink transfluid drips down your body. Your face, and hair, are all drenched in him, "It's not like you rolled over in your sleep and had me pinned for nearly half an hour. What the hell?"

Rodimus blinks, and his face turns a deeper shade of blue as he rubs the back of his neck, "Oh, so that's why I had that dream about you..."

Is he serious right now?

"Oh, you think?" You wipe your lip when it starts to drip into your mouth, "I think I could tell when you started moaning my name in your sleep."

"Well, you're just so tiny and soft and-" The red and yellow mech bites the knuckles of the servo not holding you in embarrassment. "But what was I supposed to do, huh? Hold it in?"

God, he is.

"I'm literally gonna kill you, Rodimus." You shiver, his transfluids cooling against your skin. You can't believe he dares to look you in the eye, "I am never begging to nap with you ever again, or maybe at least warn me next time."

"No offense taken," Rodimus nods in agreement for once, watching you wring your hair out, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I really am. I can help clean you up? As a sincere apology from yours truly?"

"As long as I don't come into contact with more of this stuff," You flick a bead of transfluid off your finger into his direction, "And you better be sorry, or it'll be a long time before I might actually let you fuck me."

"Wait, you'll what-" Splat, "EWUGH!!"

[rebouks]

“What’re we doing here?”

Oscar shrugged casually, “Hanging out?”

Robin scoffed with what little joviality he could muster, “Yeah, right…”

Oscar paused and broke eye contact, staring at nothing in particular as Robin waited. It was usually fairly easy to ascertain the direction of a conversation before it even started, given that people tended to rehearse what they’d say beforehand, but not Oscar. His mind was simultaneously blank and fit to burst; he was making it up as he went along most of the time, but that was one of Robin’s favourite things about his father. It paved the way for genuine, on the fly honesty.

“Figured maybe you’d wanna talk-..” Oscar rubbed his temple, “Ask me whatever you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah-.. within reason.”

“Why’d you do it?” Robin blurted out; his eyes full of unbridled curiosity, though his father wasn’t looking at him.

“Willpower is a finite resource, y’know? I had a shitty day and I caved-.. didn’t really think about it all that much, to be honest.”

“What do you mean?”

Oscar sighed, backtracking slightly as he realised that wasn’t exactly the honesty he was going for. “Well, it’s not that you don’t think about it-.. I thought about not doing it a bunch of times, but the second I decided otherwise, I went on autopilot and got it over with as soon as possible so I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. Probably because thinking on it too hard is uncomfortable.”

“Where’d you go?”

Robin wouldn’t usually have to ask such a mundane question, but he’d struggled to fill in the blanks for himself. Oscar’s memories of the previous night were fuzzy and his thoughts sprawling.

“There.”

“The bar?”

Oscar nodded, still unable to meet his son’s gaze. “You remember it used to be a vet clinic, right? Your grandma ran it briefly, years ago-.. we lived in the flat above for a little while, when you were a baby.”

“I remember.”

Oscar sounded surprised. “You do?”

“Kinda-.. you’ve told me about it n’ stuff…”

Oscar shrugged a shoulder, supposing that’d make sense.

“You don’t have to feel so ashamed.” Robin ventured.

Oscar almost looked at Robin, though his gaze fell somewhere near his shoulder instead. How could a fourteen-year-old boy conjure such compassion? Such accuracy too. Shame.

Sometimes it felt as though he were talking to a man, not a boy. He was still a child, of course; arguing with his siblings over utter nonsense, playfighting, whinging about school and homework, leaving his dirty socks all over the place-.. but sometimes it felt like he understood much more than he should’ve. Oscar couldn’t imagine many people being so emotionally mature at thirty, never mind half as young.

“Dad…”

“I’m sure I’ll get over it-.. I always assumed I’d relapse at some point, but as the years went by, I guess I got complacent.”

“How’d it start? Like, did you just wake up one morning and realise it was an issue or..?”

Oscar shook his head slightly, running his thumb over his beard in thought. “Nah, it was slower, I just ignored it. I’d always been daft and over the top with stuff like that, partying n’ shit, y’know? It was like a crutch after a while though, and eventually, I needed it just to feel normal-.. went too far to feel nothing.”

Robin opened his mouth to speak, but Oscar wasn’t finished.

“You’ll probably get some stupid cop coming to your scout meetings or your school one day and they’ll stand there n’ tell you all about how drugs and alcohol are terrible or whatever, but it’s bollocks. Sure, they’re bad for you, but they feel good and that’s the problem. At least for me it was-.. is. It shouldn’t even be legal, really, not that it’d do much good if it wasn’t-.. it wouldn’t have stopped me, anyway.”

“I’d love to forbid you from going near it, but I’m sure you’ll all try it for yourselves one day. Maybe it’s just something to do, maybe it makes a boring night more fun, gives you the confidence to do something you’re scared of, talk to someone you’re shy around, I don’t know-.. you might hate it, you might not.”

“You hate that you still like it, don’t you?”

Oscar finally met Robin’s gaze as he nodded. “So much.” He wondered if he was making a mistake, being so open, but it was too late now and Robin had yet to balk or appear uncomfortable. If anything, he seemed concerned and intrigued, glad of the chance to ask whatever he wanted-.. not that he couldn’t usually, but the invitation was clearly welcome all the same.

“All your troubles just melt away, but they’re twice as bad when you wake up and doing it over again doesn’t solve much. It’s not the answer, Robin.”

“I know it’s not.”

Oscar’s frown softened as Robin slid beside him, threading an arm around his waist.

“You prefer being sober though, right?” he asked.

“Ah, that’s a loaded question…” Oscar sighed. “I prefer my life when I’m sober, but maybe a part of me will always crave that oblivion. It’s just something I have to live with.”

“Do you think you’ll do it again?”

“I don’t know, bud-..” Oscar admitted. “I’d like to say no but I don’t think I can make any promises, that’s not how it works.”

Robin nodded understandingly; he would’ve preferred it if his father could’ve made that promise, but a harsh truth was better than a hollow lie.

“They don’t mean much if you don’t keep em.” Oscar added.

“I get it-.. thanks for letting me ask you about it though, I know you’d rather keep it to yourself.”

“You’re still young but I know it’d drive you nuts otherwise. Besides, I don’t want it to feel like a dirty secret we can’t talk about, at least between us-.. might not wanna go telling all your friends your dad’s an alky though…”

Robin buried his face in the crook of Oscar’s shoulder and squeezed him tightly, desperate to convince his father that he didn’t think any less of him.

“Nah, they’re got enough ammunition.”

Oscar couldn’t help but snort at that. “I love you so much.”

“I know-.. I love you too.”

Robin said nothing a while as his father held him - or he held Oscar - only breaking the silence upon feeling his restless thoughts return.

“It’ll be the summer holiday’s soon, maybe we could go camping or something?”

Oscar smiled fondly. “Yeah, that’d be fun…”

Previous // Next

[kingkunigami]

Mutual Masturbation | Kunigami Rensuke x Reader

𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Kinktober masterlist.

Summary: Kunigami’s coach never allowed any sex before important match days and your boyfriend was always a stickler for the rules, no matter how stressed out it made him. But this time you’ve devised a workaround. 

Pairing: Kunigami Rensuke x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, pwp, not proofread!, mutual masturbation, praise, fingering, hand jobs, cumshots.

Word Count: 3.1k.

You loved Kunigami and supported him through his dream of becoming one of the greatest players in the world, watching him in his journey from Blue Lock as he began to follow in the footsteps of his favourite players, reaching the big leagues. But— you absolutely hated his coach, the man was supposedly an expert in his field, but he was also doing everything in his power to keep your boyfriend away from you.

It wasn’t enough that you’d been with Kunigami longer than he’d been in the big leagues, longer than he’d been with this team.

You were nothing but a distraction.

But a distraction was exactly what Kunigami needed right now. His body aching from the intense training regime, as he barely made it out of the shower and onto the couch beside you. Already moving to give you the same speech he always did whenever you’d straddle his hips and press kisses against his pulse point.

“Coach said no sex before big games, you know that—” it was always the same story, the same excuse. His coach believed it made his players perform to a higher standard, and that having sex would sap their testosterone and athletic ability. But you knew better— you knew that you were doing him, and his teammates a favour.

You despised whoever invented this spurious old wives tale, convinced that the coach was jealous of his players and their healthy sex lives that he was making it his mission to have each of them as touch starved as he probably was. If it was such a great idea, Raichi probably wouldn’t end up with a red card at the end of each game. Or maybe he would, but sex would certainly help.

You just missed your boyfriend’s touch, and having to wake up to his morning wood pressed snug against your ass each morning without him doing anything about it was going to become your undoing. You needed a fix, and you were going to get it.

“Careful.” Kunigami groaned as he felt your teeth nip the sensitive skin on his neck, your fingers trailing through the hair on his undercut as you pressed your chest against his, “You know we can’t.”

“You know we don’t have to have sex,” You hummed as you mimicked his words. Shifting on his lap as you felt the tent beneath his sweats nudge your scorched slit, almost certain he could feel the heat radiating through the fabric, “There are other things we can do.”

Your lips hovered over his as you felt his warm breath fan your face. His chestnut eyes gazed into yours lowly as he fought the urge to lean forward and make your lips meet, knowing that the moment they did his willpower would be near non-existent as he moved to bend you over the nearest available surface.

“Like what?” Kunigami replied with intrigue, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Let me show you,” You smiled, pecking his lips as he pulled back.

“Yeah?” He hummed breathlessly, his head settled against the back of the couch as his fingers dipped into the plush curve of your hips, dangerously close to the swell of your ass. As though he was fighting himself internally to tug you forward and press you down on his lap hard, “But coach said-”

“I know, I know. Coach said no sex,” You felt the corners of your lips curling into a sly smile, “I won’t even touch you, Ren. I promise.”

Your boyfriend gave you a look as though he didn’t quite believe you, watching through half-lidded eyes as you slipped from his lap to sit on one side of the couch. Shamelessly splaying your thighs apart as the oversized shirt you were wearing bunched around your hips. One of your feet was positioned on the floor, the other near the back of the couch as you gave him the perfect view of the lacy panties you were wearing beneath. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t worn these in an attempt to entice your boyfriend to break the cardinal rule, and from the drunken haze in his gaze, you could’ve fooled yourself into thinking it had worked. His eyes fixed on the apex of your thighs as you watched his hips shift against the plush seat, spreading his thighs to try and give his throbbing cock some much-needed relief.

“If we’re not going to have sex, then what are we doing, sweetheart?” He groaned as you answered by sliding two fingers along your clothed crotch, the noise that slipped from your lips at the friction akin to that of pure angels as he felt a deep groan rumble in his chest, “Fuck.”

“I told you, baby.” You hummed softly, pressing down against your neglected clit through the thin layer of fabric, “You’re not gonna touch me- we’re just going to help each other out.”

Kunigami didn’t respond as his eyes remained fixed on the hand between your thighs, watching as you continued to tease yourself. The sheer fabric darkening was an indication of how wet you were already, and you’d barely even touched yourself. Wondering whether it was the thought of him alone that left you like this, hungry and salacious.

“You’ve been so stressed lately,” You continued, moving your thumbs to slip into the hem of your panties as you began to languidly drag them down your hips, “You almost knocked Raichi out on the field last week-”

“Fuck— Don’t mention his name now,” Kunigami groaned as he watched strings of your slick connecting your folds to your soaked panties begin to break in silvery wisps against your inner thighs, “I’ll go soft.”

“Bet you won’t,” You teased back, “Admit it, you need this just as much as me.”

You let your panties dangle on your ankle as you raised your leg up towards your boyfriend teasingly, before dropping them onto his lap with a smile. Kunigami’s fingers instantly weaved into the fabric as he thumbed the wet patch against the crotch. Watching as his nostrils flared at the sensation of just how wet and warm you were, remembering exactly how it felt to slide his thick cock inside your slick heat.

“Come on, Ren.” You practically purred as you parted your messy folds with two fingers so he could see how eager you were, “I need you so bad.”

A choked moan left his lips at the desperate sound of your voice as his hips jerked sloppily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed thickly. Your lacy panties balled in one of his fists as he shrugged his sweats and boxers down just enough to free his aching cock. You could’ve almost moaned at the sight of him, trying to remember the last time you’d seen him like this besides watching him get changed in the morning while you shamelessly ogled him from your bed. Trying to coax him back as you’d watch his soft cock harden at the mere thought before he’d give you the same excuse, “coach said no sex until the championship game” before leaving you unsatiated.

“God, I’ve missed him.” You tease, feeling your cunt throb as you took in the sight of his flushed tip, all pink and swollen as you watched pre drool from his slit down his length. Remembering the sensation of him filling you to the brim as he’d plunge inside your silky depths, the pleasurable ache of him stretching you into the shape of him.

“He misses you too,” Kunigami smirked as he held himself at the base, licking your lips as you found yourself leaning forward to swipe your finger against the drooling tip of his cock. 

“Uh-uh,” Kunigami was quick to catch your wrist in a large palm, stopping you from reaching out to touch him, “You said no touching.”

“Just wanna taste,” You whimpered, “Please?”

“So needy.” Kunigami scoffed, as though he didn’t feel the exact same as you. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating as he held back every ounce of restraint to stop himself from diving headfirst into your messy cunt, remembering the taste of you on his tongue as he instinctively licked his lips. His thumb swiped over the leaking tip of his cock as he gathered his pre against the calloused skin, moving his hand towards you as an offering you eagerly accepted, greedily sucking his thumb between your pouty lips as you felt the heady taste of him on your tongue. A low whine vibrated around his digit as you began to suck on it desperately, your cheeks hollowing as your tongue swirled around the tip.

“Fuck,” Kunigami choked as his cock bobbed against his abdomen, his balls heavy and full of cum as he wished he could give you more. Picturing emptying himself into your pliant mouth as a palm wrapped around your neck to feel you swallow, the taste of him heavy on your tongue as you milked him for all he was worth.

“Thought you said no touching, sweetheart.” He hummed as he pulled his thumb from your lips, dragging the bottom one down before letting it flick back into place. Leaning forward as you watched him move the same hand to wrap around his heavy cock, squeezing softly as he groaned.

“We could,” You replied coyly, “Touching still isn’t sex.”

“And I know you have no restraint,” He smiled, “You little minx.”

“I do,” You whined back with a pout, you absolutely didn’t. The last time there was an important game coming up, you’d managed to get Kunigami benched after the coach had caught you in the locker rooms, uncaring that he was his best striker.

“You don’t.” He scoffed, “Can’t even follow basic rules.”

“It’s a stupid rule,” You retorted stubbornly, letting your fingers drag through your slick as you circled your thighs entrance, “Leave your girlfriend unsatisfied so you play better on the field.”

“Rules are rules.” Kunigami continued, his hand languidly stroking his cock as his eyes focused on the way your fingers moved against you, “So we better follow them. Especially after what happened last time.”

“But you wish you were the one playing with my pussy right now, don’t you?” You cooed, sliding your slick-coated fingers up to your clit as you pressed against the sensitive nub softly. The sensation pulled a soft whine from your lips as you tried to touch yourself how Kunigami would, precise and constant as he knew your body better than your own.

“Oh, I do.” He groaned, his thumb swiping at the fresh pre oozing from his head as he smoothed it down the length of his cock, “But unlike you, I know how to follow the rules.”

“You love it really,” You hummed, your cunt clenching at the darkened look in his eyes as he shamelessly roamed your body, “Stupid rules are made to be broken.”

“I love it when you behave,” He corrected you, pulling a needy moan from you at his tone. Your fingers prodding your tight entrance as you tried to imagine it was him instead, stretching yourself out around your digits.

“I am behaving.” You pouted.

“Are you?” He scoffed, “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I am,” You whined childishly, “If I wasn’t I’d be sitting on your dick right now.”

The grunt Kunigami let out at that was dark and guttural, a deep groan reverberating from deep in his chest as he sent a jolt of electricity straight to your cunt. Your walls trembled around your fingers as your hips bucked into your touch, feeling lightheaded as your head fell back against the arm of the couch.

“Damn,” He sucked in a sharp breath at the lewd sound of your fingers buried deep inside your walls, the squelch filling the room as he imagined how much louder they’d be paired with skin against skin. You were practically dripping for him and he hadn’t even touched you, so desperate and needy for him that you’d go to these extremes instead of waiting for the season to be over, “Show me those pretty tits.”

“I thought you didn’t want to do this,” You teased, “The rules-”

“Do it,” He almost growled, the cool timber to his voice had you complying almost instantly as you pulled his shirt up over your chest to reveal your naked breasts to his gaze, “Fuck.”

His hand sped up against his shaft, the slick friction echoing around the room as he leaned forward to spit down on his length. The sound had you clenching as you wished your fingers felt as good as his, stroking against the silky spot inside you that Kunigami always focused on.

“You’re so pretty,” He mumbled, chestnut eyes roaming your exposed skin as he reached his free hand out to squeeze your calf. The warmth of his hand against your skin had the heat inside you burning like a flame, reaching up to palm one of your naked breasts as you tried to mimic his movements. Fingers tweaking your hardened nipple as you tugged gently, pulling more gruff groans from your boyfriend's lips.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” You cooed, “Bet you wish it was my pussy instead.”

“Nothin’s better than your pussy,” He mumbled, rolling his wrist every time he reached his swollen tip. Tightening his fist to try and emulate how your tight cunt felt wrapped around him each time he sunk himself inside you, tempted to throw his morals to the side and break the cardinal rule as he watched the way your walls sucked three of your fingers in.

“Wish you could feel right now,” You mewled pathetically, writhing on the couch beside him as your palm pressed against your clit.

It wasn’t the same, your slender fingers couldn’t reach the same spots as he could. Sliding directly into your warmth and finding the exact places he knew would have you coming undone in minutes, navigating your body better than you ever could.

“I wish it was your fingers instead, yours always feel so much better than mine.” You continued.

“Yeah,” He grinned, his thumb pressed against his slit. You could tell by the way his thick lashes were fluttering that he was nearing his end, “I make you feel so good, don’t I, sweetheart?”

“The best, Rensuke. Every time-” Kunigami’s chest puffed at the praise, brows furrowing as his hand increased its pace against his cock, “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, I am.” He keened at the praise, his chest puffing out as he continued stroking himself.

The sight of him had your cunt clenching around your fingers, keeping the tips of them pressed against the spongy spot inside you as you brought your other hand down to press rough, constant circles against your puffy clit. The coil inside you was dangerously close to snapping as you continued to watch your boyfriend fist himself at the thought of you, his knuckles white from how tight he was fisting himself. Fingers trailing along the prominent veins on his length as he tried to imagine his thick cock stretching your tight walls as he buried himself balls deep. Your creamy arousal leaving rings around the base of his heavy cock so he could see the absolute mess he'd make of you every time, the mess reserved just for him.

“I’m gonna cum,” You gasped, your walls beginning to clamp down around your fingers in anticipation.

“Gonna cum for me, sweet girl?” Kunigami groaned, “Show me how pretty you look when you’re cummin’ for me, yeah?”

A jumbled cry of his name fell from your lips as you began to convulse around your fingers, tumbling into your bliss as your hips bucked from the couch. Riding out your release as you felt the tension dissipate to be replaced with euphoria as you felt Kunigami’s intense gaze completely fixated on you, his hand still slick and constant against his hard cock as he watched you ride out your climax. Pulling your fingers from your fluttering hole as you moved them up to gently brush your clit, fingers slick with your arousal.

“Want you to cum for me, baby.” You cooed, watching his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. The tension in him was at breaking point as he moved his free hand to grip the back of the couch, “Please, I want it.”

“Yeah? You want my cum?” He snarled through clenched teeth, his hand swift against his length as he sped up to bring himself to meet his own end.

“Yeah,” You parroted, unable to take your eyes off the hand around his cock, remembering when he used to piston his fingers inside your cunt at the same speed. Your cunt clenched as he began to shift on the couch, his forearm on the back as he kneeled between your parted thighs. Hovering over your glistening folds as he jerked himself above you.

“I’ll fuckin’ give it to you, sweetheart.” He groaned, half-lidded eyes gazing down at your wetness as he pictured how easily he could slip inside you and feel your walls trembling around him, the thought sending him to meet his own end, “Take it.”

You gasped as the first white-hot globs of cum began to drip onto your cunt, the sensation scorching you as his movements became erratic. Spurts flew along your torso as they landed against your naked breasts and tummy, painting your body white with his release as he left a trail of warmth against your skin.

“Oh, fuck.” Kunigami groaned as he emptied his balls, tapping the tip of his spent cock against your clit as he dragged it through your folds. Smearing his cum into your skin as he mixed it with your own release, chest heaving from the intensity of his climax.

Catching you by surprise as he reached down with his spit-soaked hand to pull the fingers that had been inside your cunt to his lips. His tongue swirled around them as he cleaned the taste of you from your skin, a deep timber groan rumbling deep in his chest at the taste of you.

“You’re a terrible influence,” He murmured, glancing down at the content smile that was now on your face as you leaned your tired body against the couch.

“Yeah, but you love me though.” You teased, avoiding his lips when he leaned down to kiss you, “Hey, no kisses before big games.”

“That isn’t a rule,” He scoffed, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger as your lips curled into a pout as he gave you a sloppy kiss.

“Maybe I’m making it one.” You scrunched your nose as he shook his head.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He smiled softly, giving you another softer kiss as he ran his hands along your sides, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

His coach would argue that sex before a game made his players worse, but you would argue that it just made them more hungry.

[002yb]

For the secretary au I wonder what would happen if Jason ever had to take Damian to the office for any reason like he was sick and really clingy or the babysitter had to cancel last minute (also I hope this doesn't bother you and if it does feel free to ignore it)

Chances are that if Damian is sick, Jason will take time off until his boy is back in good health. Damian and his well-being takes precedent over everything for Jason, so regardless of the situation/circumstances, Jason is staying at Damian's side. Damn anyone that tries to take him away, too.

The first time Jason calls out of work, it's with little explanation. Bruce receives a text/email explaining that Jason needs to take a sick day. And of course Bruce frets, but he lets it go with a simple, 'Understood. Feel better.'

Then Jason calls out again the next day and Bruce immediately gets so intense about it. Like there's an actual aura coming from his office as he sits at his desk and doesn't do any work because he's brooding behind the steeple of his hands.

He's using every bit of willpower not to overstep bounds to go and see Jason and bring him a care package or a doctor and--

Tim heaving the greatest of sighs because it's probably a cold, just give him a few days to recover. Stop being weird.

But then another day passes and Jason is still calling out sick and suddenly Tim is right there alongside Bruce, sat across from him at his desk. And they stew together and contemplate their game plan.

They conference call Alfred and Dick to loop them in to this really deep, convoluted plan (courtesy of Tim, who steamrolls the conversation; Bruce is so on board though - the true disaster duo) to check in on Jason and get him help; Bruce has his concierge doctor on call, so—

Alfred chiming in because, 'Or you could message him on his condition, sirs.' Or if Jason needs anything.

Which strikes Bruce and Tim dumb because, yeah. That's a real well-adjusted way of doing it. Huh. Cue embarrassed CEO and COO who stay suspiciously quiet because such a simple thing didn't make its way into any of their considerations/plans

So Dick interrupts because he's already done the above. Back on day one. You know. Like the average person does?

Tim grumbling about how Dick is far from average. Meanwhile Bruce is back to being intense because, 'what is his status?'

Long story short: Damian is down with a cold/flu; Jason is taking care of him.

Bruce stating that he's contacting the concierge doctor immediately; they can get Damian in to a pediatrician at the nearest children's hospital and—

Alfred cutting Bruce off by asking Dick if Jason needs help. Because Alfred is happy to assist.

And Dick lets them both down easy, because he's got it under control

Which. What? Traitor.

Just Dick already being there to help out. Running errands and taking care of Jason while Jason is busy caring for Damian. Maybe a bit of Dick looking after Damian, too ;U;

Ffffffff just the cuteness of Dick seeing Jason care for Damian and being reminded of how his mother used to look after Dick, way back when. The softness, the fretting. Forehead kisses to check for fever, fingers combed through sweat mussed hair. Lukewarm towels to heated skin and gentle soothing with the coming of chills and the desire for heat. Just little back rubs and assurances until Damian dozes off from exhaustion.

And the sweetness of Dick going to buy medicine and making sure Jason is taken care of, too. Cutting fruits or bringing easy meals. Cleaning up when Damian gets sick over himself and the floor ;n; Holding Damian to his chest while they're all on the couch so that Jason can doze for just a few minutes (only for Jason to wake a couple hours later to Dick walking slow through the apartment, Damian's head cradled to his chest as he talks at him, voice low and calm and steady enough to help Damian drift back off)

Something something Jason resting his head against the back of the couch and watching them fondly. And when Dick realizes that Jason is awake and watching, he smiles but carries on as he was

Sitting at the table, slouched over cups of coffee after putting Damian down in his bed to rest properly. And Jason thanking Dick for the help, but he doesn't need to put himself out for them

Only Dick isn't. Not at all

Then they talk. Quiet in the low light of the kitchen, in those hours between late and early.

(Specific talking point: slipped comment on how certain things Jason did reminded Dick of his mom. And Dick is so fond that Jason feels something like pride—so flattered he might be endeared. It's such a sweet comparison to draw, especially since Dick holds his parents in such high regard)

(Other talking point: Jason asking if Dick has kids because he's really good with them. Which Dick huffs a laugh about and tells Jason no (and it sounds a little sad, a little melancholic because infertile!Dick Grayson agenda, yep). Which Jason thinks is a shame. He'd make a good parent. And the sentiment wounds Dick so much it's so sweet ;3;).

Anyway, Dick relays to the family that Damian is just about recovered. And that Jason should be back to work soon. And that it'd be a real shame if he came back to a ton of work that the CEO and COO couldn't get done in his absence. ◉‿◉

Alternative sick!Damian situations, or just a continuation from the above:

Where Alfred offers to look after Damian (after he recovers from the worst of the cold/flu and is on the mend)

Jason being reluctant because he doesn't want to put Damian's fussiness on anyone, let alone Alfred

Although nearly back to 100%, Damian gets clingy and ornery after he's been sick and once Jason returns to not being available all hours

But Alfred insists because that's his grandson it doesn't matter how fussy he is he raised Bruce; he's got this

Which makes Jason snicker and eventually relent

At which point Alfred gets quality time with Damian and although Damian sleeps most of the time, Alfred is 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ about it

As for Damian being at WE...

It's an anticipated visit and Damian dresses for business, toddler/small child though he may be lol

He's well behaved because Jason asks him to be, spending most of his time drawing

When anyone dares to approach Jason's desk though, the Al Ghul demon glare comes out and scares them off hahaha

Since Damian is tucked away behind him, Jason wouldn't notice. He'd just be confused because usually his co-workers put up a bit more of a fight?

It's Tim who overhears about the cutest guard dog sitting at Jason's workstation -- so protective and sweet! Sometimes coworkers walk that direction just to see the sour expression that takes over Damian's features. Then they'll leave and laugh over how sweet it is.

Tim witnessing the intense scowl for himself and grimacing because wtf, there's nothing cute about that it's so intimidating??

======

Thank you for the ask!! It wasn't a bother at all. This was really fun to reply to, so thank you again. Sorry for the delay though. <3

[lilsoftext]

•~* 18 HOURS WITHOUT HER *~•

-chris sturniolo x female reader

——————————————————————————

The stream had been going for about an hour, and while Nick and Matt were deeply immersed in the game they were playing, the chat had started to notice Chris’s unusual behavior.

" Chris, you good?" Nick asked, briefly looking over at his brother.

Chris sat up, blinking a few times as if snapping out of a daydream. “Uh, yeah, I’m good. Just, you know, waiting on Sof to text me back.”

Immediately, the chat caught on, and a flurry of messages flooded the screen: **"How's Sof?"** **"Is she okay?"** **"What's going on with Sof?"**

Chris let out a small laugh as he read the messages. “Nah, she’s fine. She’s just been working a lot lately. You know how it is. It’s been like... 18 hours since she last texted me.”

Matt glanced over at Chris, raising an eyebrow. “18 hours? Dude, you’re counting? What, are you losing your mind without her?”

Chris smiled sheepishly, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe a little. I mean, I know she’s probably just sleeping because she worked all night, but still... you know.”

Nick, never one to let a teasing moment slip by, joined in. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a certified simp on our hands!”

The chat blew up with laughter, sending in an avalanche of **"Chris is so whipped!"** and **"SIMP ALERT!"**

Chris rolled his eyes but couldn't help grinning. “Hey, I’m not ashamed. She’s worth it.”

“Aw, how cute!” Matt teased, leaning closer to the camera as if addressing the chat. “Someone’s got it bad.”

Chris didn’t even bother defending himself. He was clearly anxious to hear from Sof, and no amount of teasing from his brothers or the chat was going to change that. For the next several minutes, he kept his phone in the corner of his eye, waiting, hoping it would light up with a message or a call.

The chat, meanwhile, wasn’t letting up. Every few seconds, someone would ask, **"Has Sof called yet?"** or **"Sof where you at?"**

Despite his anticipation, Chris tried to stay focused on the stream, chatting with viewers and engaging with Nick and Matt as they jumped from game to game. But every now and then, his eyes would drift back to his phone, a small flicker of disappointment crossing his face each time he saw no new notifications.

Matt, noticing this, smirked. “Bro, if you stare at your phone any harder, you’re gonna summon Sof through sheer willpower.”

“I wish I could,” Chris mumbled, half-joking.

Nick chuckled and addressed the chat again. “Guys, Chris is in shambles. Someone needs to call Sof and tell her to save him.”

The chat ate it up, spamming **"SOF SAVE CHRIS!"** and **"SEND HELP!"**

They carried on for another half hour, and while Chris did his best to stay in the moment, it was clear he was distracted. Nick and Matt kept the mood light, cracking jokes, reading chat, and trying to pull Chris back into the fun.

But then, out of nowhere, there was a sound—**the sound**—the soft chime of an incoming FaceTime call.

Chris's eyes widened, and his head snapped in the direction of his phone. His heart leapt in his chest. “Wait, wait—hold up!”

Matt was the first to react. “Chris, your phone’s ringing!”

Chris jumped out of his seat so fast he nearly knocked his chair over. The chat exploded with excitement, messages pouring in like, **"IT’S SOF!!"** and **"ANSWER THE CALL!!"**

In his rush, Chris almost tripped as he bolted across the room to grab his phone. He was practically vibrating with excitement, and Matt couldn’t help but laugh. “you’re literally jumping like a kid at Christmas!”

Chris didn’t care. With the biggest grin on his face, he grabbed the phone and accepted the FaceTime call. The chat was buzzing with anticipation, filling the screen with **"OMG"** and **"SOF IS HERE!"**

Chris’s voice softened the second he answered. “Hey, babe!”

On the screen was Sof, her face slightly flushed from just waking up, her hair tousled, but she was smiling. “Hey, Chris,” she said, her voice warm and a little groggy. “Sorry, I knocked out after work. Didn’t mean to make you wait.”

Chris’s face practically glowed as he held the phone up to the camera so the chat could see. “Guys, say hi to Sof!”

Immediately, the chat went into overdrive: **"HI SOF!!"** **"QUEEN SOF!"** **"WE LOVE YOU, SOF!"**

Sof giggled, waving at the screen. “Hi, chat! You guys are wild.”

Nick leaned over, smirking at the camera. “Yeah, Sof, we’ve had to deal with this guy for hours. He’s been waiting for you like a lost puppy.”

Sof laughed, and even Chris had to chuckle. “I wasn’t that bad!”

“Oh, you were,” Matt chimed in. “We’ve been holding this stream together while you’ve been staring at your phone like it’s about to perform a magic trick.”

Sof shook her head, still smiling. “Well, I’m here now. Didn’t mean to leave you hanging.”

Chris’s grin only widened. “It’s alright. You’re here now, that’s what matters.”

The chat continued to buzz with excitement, sending in messages like **"CHRIS IS SO HAPPY"** and **"SOF IS HIS WORLD."**

After a few more minutes of lighthearted banter, Sof had to go, needing to catch up on some more rest. Chris, with a soft look in his eyes, said his goodbye and hung up the call, placing his phone on the desk.

As soon as the call ended, Chris sat back down, the happiest anyone had seen him all night. His whole demeanor had shifted—he was relaxed, smiling, and completely at ease.

Nick glanced over at him, grinning. “ you look like you just won the lottery.”

Matt added, “Seriously, it’s like someone flipped a switch. You’re like a whole new person.”

Chris couldn’t deny it. He looked down, a bit bashful, and then back at his brothers with a smile. “Yeah, man. She just makes me happier, you know? Every day.”

The chat lit up again with love and support, sending hearts and sweet comments like **"TRUE LOVE"** and **"SOF & CHRIS FOREVER."**

Matt shook his head, still smirking. “Alright, alright, we get it. You’re in love. Save some of the Hallmark stuff for later.”

But Chris was still in his zone, almost oblivious to the teasing. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a deep breath. “You know what, though? It’s true. She really does make everything better. I know it sounds cheesy, but she just... I don’t know... makes me a better person. Every day with her is better than the last.”

The chat continued to flood with supportive messages, and even Nick and Matt couldn’t help but smile at how genuine Chris was being.

Nick leaned in closer to the camera and spoke to the chat, “Guys, you’re witnessing the softer side of Chris right now. Don’t get used to it, though. He’ll be back to roasting us in like five minutes.”

Chris laughed, but he wasn’t quite done yet. He turned back to the chat, his voice still full of warmth. “Seriously, though. Sof is amazing. She works so hard, and she always makes time for me. Even when she’s tired or busy, she never forgets about me. I’m really lucky to have her.”

Matt pretended to gag, earning a laugh from both Chris and the chat, but even he couldn’t fully hide his smile.

Nick grinned. “Alright, alright, before Chris starts tearing up, let’s wrap this up.”

As they began to close out the stream, Nick turned to Chris one last time. “So, you think Sof’s gonna make another appearance on stream soon?”

Chris looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled. “Maybe. I’ll see if I can convince her. She’s kinda shy about it, though.”

The chat blew up once again with excitement at the idea of Sof returning. **"YES PLEASE"** and **"SOF STREAM PART TWO"** flooded the screen.

With that, the triplets said their goodbyes, signing off with the usual mix of jokes and laughter. But it was clear to everyone watching that Chris was in a better place than when they had started. The stream had begun with him anxious and distracted, but by the end, he was glowing with happiness.

And as the screen went black, the last thing everyone saw was Chris’s smile—the smile of a guy completely in love, and happier than ever.

——————————————————————————

i’m hope you enjoyed it. if you have any requests, leave them down below ‼️ IM RUNNING OF IDEAS

lilsoftext<3

[zoeykallus]

Hi sweety! What do you think about a short prompt of Fem!Reader and Crosshair arguing, leading to a fiery kiss (pre relationship)? Maybe she's got enough of his snark and snaps, but he just grabs and kisses her, wordlessly revealing he's just mocking her because he has a crush on the reader...? Pretty please? I can't get this fantasy out of my head. I need you to write it down, so I can go on with my life! 😅

Aloha!

Oh, I think I like this one 😂

Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-shot - Chicken Legs

Warnings: Strong Language/Swearing/Arguing/Fluff/Slightly Suggestive

____________

Working with the Bad Batch is actually fun, most of the time. You get along well with the guys. With all but one. Crosshair. The Sniper seems to have made it his business to annoy and criticize you. He often gets on your nerves, constantly corrects you, checks things you've done three times and always finds something to complain about. You are all the more annoyed that Hunter has sent you off with Crosshair, of all people, to run some errands. The sergeant says, "You two need to learn to get along. I know how stubborn my brother can be, so you have to be the smarter one. Don't let him get to you. When he realizes that you are no longer interested in his talk, then you won't give him any room to attack. You drive the speeder, Crosshair sits behind you. You had a long discussion about who should drive before you left. "I'm the man, how does it look when I sit behind you?" he grumbles. You glare at him. "Seriously, that's your argument? If anyone ever doubts that we humans were once cavemen, I present you as living proof that some of us have not evolved from that time."

Your little argument goes back and forth, but in the end, you're in the driver's seat. Of course, he can't keep his mouth shut. As soon as you arrive in town and get off the speeder, he grumbles, "You're living proof that women shouldn't drive." Frowning, annoyed, you look at him. "Here we go again... What's so bad about the way I drive?" Crosshair snorts and rolls his eyes. "We don't have that much time. Maybe I should tell you what's right with it, because that list is a lot shorter." You clench your hands into fists, trying to stop yourself with sheer willpower from grabbing his collar and shaking him, "Has anyone ever told you that your toxic masculinity is really annoying?" He smirks. "Yeah, you, several times." You roll your eyes, pull out your data-pad and take a look at the list Hunter gave you. Trying to ignore Crosshair. But he won't be ignored. Cheekily, he takes the pad from your hand. "Hey!"

"Let me do it, if you have the list, we'll forget about half the things", he insists. By now, you're seething with anger. He's been teasing you and making stupid jokes since he got up this morning. "What the hell is your problem? You're not that obnoxious to others, are you?!" Serenely with a smile, he says, "Maybe you are the problem" "Fuck. You." you press out, "Listen up, Chicken Legs, if you don't stop pissing me off, you might wake up one morning with your rifle shoved deep up your bony little ass." He raises his brows in amusement and looks at you. "Well, if that turns you on, I personally find it strange, but to each their own." You raise your finger in anger, already working up another line, when he closes his hand around your finger, and you fall silent abruptly, taken aback. "What-"

His other hand grabs your chin and holds it tight. "Shut up for a moment," he says softly. You stare at him as his face gets closer and closer. Your eyes automatically close as his lips touch yours, warmer and softer than you expected. As the tip of his tongue glides gently over your lower lip, you automatically open your mouth, letting him in. Your tongues collide in a velvety collision. Fireworks go off through your body. Your pulse begins to race, your heart beats faster, your stomach begins to tingle and warmth spreads between your thighs. For a moment your mind is completely turned off, you don't think, you just feel. But as his lips slowly separate from yours and both your and his eyes open again, you kick him in the shins. Thanks to his armor, however, he barely feels it. "First you return the kiss, then you kick me?", he asks, cocking a brow at you. You say softly, "I can't stand you, you can't just kiss me".

He finally lets go of your finger, and you suddenly miss the physical contact with him. You stand there and look up at him somewhat helplessly. "Why are you always teasing me?" you ask, confused. He smirks, "It's given me your attention, hasn't it?" You sigh and say, "There's another way to do it." He nods slowly, with an irresistible smile on his lips, strokes your cheek with his knuckles and says, "Okay. I'm open to suggestions. How can I capture your attention?" You swallow, look at him almost shyly, and say, "Just keep looking at me the way you are right now, and you'll have my attention."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@starwarsnerd111

[jellyfishsthings]

My lips. Your lips. Apocalypse.

Warnings: my shit writing, violence (kinda?)

part 2

I will be the first person to say it. School is boring. And that is a lot since Nevermore is no ordinary school. The only class that is interesting, yet exhausting, is this one. Mrs Smith is sitting across from me. Staring intensely in my eyes, trying to find the weak spot in my mental shield. We have been at it for hours and I have managed to preserve my resolve. Until now. She finally breaks in.

"So what is it about you? You seem quite ordinary to be going to that school." The cute Barnstaple across from me asks. He has nice brown hair that curls at his ears. Deep thoughtful eyes. He is mundane or better yet, ordinary, as he called me. He is perfect. But something about him screams certain danger. Tyler, Tyler Galpin, whom I have come to know as my best friend. My dreamy best friend, who I moon over day and night and constantly plagues my thoughts.

"That is top secret agent type of shit, you can not know" I answered him with a chuckle.

The memory soon fades, as fast as it appeared. I feel my shoulders sag from exhaustion and I try to find sense in the safety of my magical pendant. The one that keeps others at bay while also containing my powers. The one that keeps me safe not only from others but also from myself. Mind control is not easy stuff, you have to be hyperfocus. Do you want to control something or someone? You have to draw all your willpower and pour it into that task. Which is tough shit. Making someone forget or simply reading their thoughts or memories, even manipulating them is now as natural as breathing. Shielding yourself from others with the same powers is the hardest. There aren't many of us but we are more powerful than anyone else. So if you slip up, you are vulnerable to the world.

You know what they say. With great power comes great responsibility.

My ears are ringing. My mind is reeling. Each breath I take feels like hell. They are uneven, torturous and slow

"Drink this" I feel a cold water bottle touch my bottom lip. I drink the offered water greedily. My vision from hazy slowly starts turning itself clear and I can make out my surroundings again. "Better?" I nod and wait for the lecture to start. "So your shield lasted over two hours. You are strong, you know that, but you can not let yourself get lost in your daydreams. Especially when we are practising ".

"Yeah I know, I know" I heave, still trying to stabilize my breathing.

"Go rest"

I get up slowly. Unsteady on my feet and wandering through the halls while feeling my way in the walls, trailing my fingertips in the cold stoned wall. I enter my dorm and change out of my uniform. Putting on a white oversized shirt, half buttoned and collapsing in my bed.

The hours pass as I am in a half-awake state. Being aware of the room around me, but my organism turns to its usual state. And so I dream. I dream of him. What it would be like to kiss. What it would be like to date.

I am startled awake as my roommate slams the door behind her wake. Wednesday in her usual lack of colour stops in the middle of the room and sharply looks at me. "Good, you are awake".

I sigh rolling my eyes "What do you want?"

"I am going to the house I was telling you about. I might need your help."

"Why?"

"Because you are useful."

"Jee thanks. It feels good to be appreciated. "

The sun has finally set and we walk towards the school's entrance door, where a familiar Jeep awaits. Tyler, he is here. Enid and Wednesday are wearing their matching hoodie scarf things, as usual, I am left out. As usual, Wednesday climbs in the passenger seat, my seat, and Tyler doesn't say a word about that, instead, he flirts with her. He doesn't even greet me or ask about my day, as he used to.

I silently seeth as we arrive at what looks like a haunted manor. We break in and we start wandering through the house trying to find evidence. At some point, we are separated. As I walk into what looks like an old girl's bedroom, I feel a presence behind me, the hair on my neck standing as I grab the nearest object ready to attack.

Yet a strong hand shoots out and stops my blow easily. "Hey there. Be careful, Rockey, you wouldn't want to hit me, now would you?" The breath is knocked out of me. The moonlight hits him just right, highlighting his features, the soft smile, the high cheekbones and sharp jawline. His laughing face turns into one of confusion. He opens his mouth ready to ask me something, when a strange sound echoes through the room.

He grabs me and flushes me to his chest. He places his hand to my mouth and I feel my heart race. I can feel every plain of his body against mine. His defined chest rises and falls in a crazy rhythm, and his hands hold me in place with urgency. We must stay like this for a few seconds or mere minutes but it feels like hours as I try to catalog his characteristics.

"I will go check, it must have been the girls, please stay here."

"What? No, I am coming with you."

"Please." He uses that voice. The one he knows that can convince me to do anything.

So I stay put. Until I see a light shining into the forest. I find myself following it. Threading through the trees and the fallen leaves. Someone moves just out of sight. A knife is thrown my way and I drop to the ground. The figure stalks towards me and as I think that I am doomed. The Hyde makes its appearance, attacking what I assumed to be a man, tiring him to shreds. After it's done it turns my way, snuffing the air as I am frozen in place, terrified to the bone.

The sound of bones breaking fills the air as the monster in front of me turns into a … boy? A familiar one. He is covered in blood and unconscious. I make a quick decision and drag him towards his house, cleaning him up in his bathtub and stitching up the scratch wound on his pecs. Tyler is the Hyde. The Hyde is Tyler. They are one and the same.

I am watching him, studying him while he sleeps. He looks so peaceful yet troubled. I creep towards his father's room and find some handcuffs, thank you Sheriff Galpin, and tie him up in his headboard, waiting till he awakes.

words: 1.154 (there will be a pt.2.... propably?)

[worth-this-and-more]

What are you most looking forward to in Oathbound?

You seem to be asking everyone so wanted your opinion lmao

-@BrianaKane 💕

haha i've got so much i wanna see in oathbound so this probably will be long af

-bree finally manifesting her best version. like ik our king was running here and there for her life but finally she's gonna have some time to train herself and finally control her powers without arthur dicking in or her ancestors warning her at every waking and sleeping moments. and also, the dragonnnn do I need to say anything more??

-ruthless nick. i neeeed to see that side of him, because a reason I did not like him very much in legendborn as a whole was because he was actively suppressing his emotions trynna be the calm kid but he really really needs to rage now. we saw sel's soft side now I wanna see nick's ruthless side.

-we might not get much sel content but please for the love of everything that is holy I need need neeeeed natasia in oathbound or I'm gonna die seriously I need to know her I need her to adopt me and bree and sel and alice and william and everyone because she's totally mommy vibes I mean she's our only hope in this adult world

-alice as the fierce regent or maybe the unofficial regent or unofficial william's squire both work perfectly and will be so cool, and also teamed up with William with her terrific ideas and willpower, she's gonna go crazyyyyy and also I think she and sar might have something start in oathbound?? like idk I just have this feeling but yeah

-did i mention i wanna see the dragon again?? because I wanna see the dragon again and oooh maybe the dragonn is gonna kill the shadow king but let's see haha that might be in the fourth book

-and yeah i need sarah griffiths to takeover the southern chapter demolishing victoria because as William is probably not gonna be here I feel like she's gonna be in charge because obviously everyone kicked out tor. sar and the morgaines would make a terrific group and I'm living for it.

-i wanna see zoelle and eljiah slowly but surely siding with bree because they just seem power hungry demons and bree could give them so much more, like what if they meet valec and then find out that oh you could get these things and deals with humans all at the same place how cool is that?? and if they are shadow king's kids, which doesn't seem much unlikely this old man has a lot of kids scattered around, this forced family of valec, sel, zoelle, eljiah and maybe some more would finally throw up their parental trauma on the shadow king and maybe, just maybe break his ego or bruise his anger whichever works.

-a small part of me believes that a bree vs shadow king battle is probably in the fourth book butttttt a nick vs shadow king, or sel vs shadow king is possible depending on who reaches there first. i do feel like nick would somehow find out that erebus is not erebus by maybe his newly found abilities and knowledge, so maybe nick vs shadow king is inevitable.

-and ohhhh alice vs tor where tor dies please please please please I wanna see that I wanna see alice absolutely destroy that piece of shit yk just pure fury unleashed upon tor. it's gonna be so epic and if it happens in the ogof-y-drraig oooooh even better because that's where tor defied our king officially and that's where she should crumble to dust

-willark content please i need those two idiots falling in love I feel like it's gonna be "he fell first, he fell harder" and lark has already fallen so I want to see William falling in love all over again because pleaseeee I need it tracyyy

-regent cestra either having a redemption arc, there is a slight possibility of that like a cobwed's strand amount of chances but it's there for me personally, or else she should die. bree vs cestra would obviously be amazing but it could also be by the hands of one of the shadowborn or maybe shadow king would kill her too either for the drama or because she figures out that he has bree or something

-dragonnn dragonnn dragonnn dragonnn

now imma just stfu okay bbyeeee (edit: i added the willark point because how on earth did I ever forget it????)

[nightfallgame]

(NSFW) SHORT — Hiroyuki Yamada (02)

Originally Written: 08-11-21

Prompt: Hiroyuki + a childhood friend and a marriage proposal that he never expected them to take seriously.

Hiroyuki wakes up to someone beside him. He’s in his shitty apartment. That’s the first thing he takes in. And... that’s a good sign. Probably. Even as drunk as he’s sure he was last night, at least he didn’t make the mistake of following the wrong person home and getting stuck. 

But there’s still a warm body right next to his, and when Hiroyuki dares to roll over... it’s to a face that he remembers all too well. 

The memories come crashing down hard. An old friend came to visit last night. He tried to drink a little to drown out his anxieties, to try to make himself a little less of an awkward, painfully stressed-out mess. And. Well. 

It clearly didn’t end so well for him. 

An instant later, when he curls up a little more into himself, Hiroyuki catches sight of his hand... and the ring around a very particular finger. His heart almost stops. What did he do to you? There’s no way that thing would be there because of something you chose. No, he had to have spiraled once he was drunk— and while Hiroyuki’s known himself to make stupid decisions when alcohol clouds his system, forcing some kind of engagement is new. 

Panic settles in his chest and takes root in his lungs. He did this to a friend, probably the only person he knows who was truly willing to visit him and give him a chance. Hiroyuki whines. He needs to be quiet. You’ll hear him. If you wake up, he’ll have to face the mistakes he’s made, and then, he’ll have to see someone who might have cared look at him with disgust. 

And then, you roll over and pull him into your arms. 

Hiroyuki almost shrieks. His whole body stiffens up like a coiled spring at the sudden contact, and it’s only through sheer willpower that he avoids letting out some kind of pathetic sound. You hum and squeeze him tighter. 

“Mmm... it’s nice to wake up to you,” you giggle. “I’m so happy you said yes! I was really worried there that you might not accept.”

“Wh-What!?” It’s undignified to the max, but still all he can say. 

“Marrying me. That’s why I came last night, remember? I’m here because we promised... and yeah, you had to get drunk to calm down enough to properly talk to me, but that’s okay. You said yes.”

Your adoring tone is coming close to giving him a heart attack. There’s no way someone could be talking about his sorry self in such a way. But just the same, when he fights to think through the mild hangover clouding his head, Hiroyuki stumbles upon the memory of you saying something very similar years ago, back when the two of you were in high school. 

“Y-You tracked me down for that—!?” he sputters incredulously. 

“Yeah. I was serious. I needed to wait until I was sure I could take care of you, but I meant what I said back then. And you’re okay with it, right? It’s like... I really do want to make you happy with this.”

“There’s n-no way you’re serious,” he squeaks. “Y-You can’t—, this is m-me we’re talking about. I’m a drunk! I w-work a shit job and, a-and there’s no way I can afford to be a husband, fuck—” He’s rambling now, panicking even more, and Hiroyuki can’t get a grip on himself for long enough to shut up the parts of himself that are insistent he feels guilt. 

“Don’t worry about money. I’m really sorry I took so long to get back to you. I needed to make sure I could do things properly, so... I can take care of things. You’re so sweet.” You reach forward and cup his cheek in your palm. “The same precious friend I knew way back then. I’ve missed you. So if you want to and you’re really okay with it, marry me. I won’t make you. You can take that ring off right now if you’d rather.”

The way you’re looking at him is terrifying. There’s so much genuine adoration in your eyes that Hiroyuki is pretty sure he could cry. Or that he might be about to. He remembers you vaguely— most of his past has sunk into a haze from stress and too much to drink, but you’re still there. 

His own family doesn’t want to see him. Even growing up, no one expected him to ever bring home a spouse. If you marry him, you won’t have any in-laws. He doesn’t have any money or assets to share. All Hiroyuki has is his cramped, dark apartment and the few possessions scattered throughout it. You claim that you’re capable of handling everything, but why would you want to? What has he done to earn something like that? You don’t get anything out of it. 

But the thought of someone actually wanting to have him for a husband is making Hiroyuki’s throat go tight and his chest heat up. He used to dream about that kind of thing, back before he realized it’d never happen. 

Even if it’s an obvious trick, can he really make himself say no? 

“I...” He hesitates, but desperation soon gets the better of him. “I-I’ll marry you. Please, um, p-please take care of me.”

It’s all he can do to whisper that plea and look away. Meeting your eyes while he still feels close to combusting is just too much. What if you take it back now and laugh in his face? Or what if he sees disgust in your eyes that someone as pitiful as him dared to assume you were serious? 

“Aaah, thank you! Thank you so much!” Instead of any of that, you shriek with happiness and pull his tense body even closer to yours. You bury your face against his neck and laugh with delight. “I promise, I’ll make you so happy. I’ll do everything to take care of you. You’ll never have to be alone again.” Your grip is tight and there’s conviction in your voice. Hiroyuki is so stunned that all he can do is lie there and fight back the insistent tears. 

. . . 

And it does indeed turn out to be true. You marry him.

The wedding isn’t as terrifying as Hiroyuki is expecting. You keep it small, in part because of his nerves and in part because it’s not like he has any family who’d even show up. In no time at all, he’s a married man. 

Maybe a couple of nights after, though, Hiroyuki’s nerves are eating him alive. Even though you went through with it, there are parts of his head that are utterly convinced this can’t be real. It’s legal. There’s a ring on his finger and you signed the papers and everything, but he still can’t stop feeling like he’ll wake up to you laughing in his face for falling for it. 

So when the two of you are going to bed (you share a bed now, in your apartment), Hiroyuki brings himself to ask the question. 

“A-Are you sure you want this...?” 

Without alcohol in his system, it’s hard to speak. You’ve slowly been getting him to drink less, and while that does mean he feels less like shit all the time, it also means that he’s in a constant state of nervousness with nothing to dull the strain. Asking something like that is way too hard. 

“What do you mean? This as in... being with you?” you ask. Hiroyuki nods and your nose wrinkles up. “Seriously? I married you, you goof. How would I not want to be with you? I love you. You know that by now.”

As you talk, you get closer and closer to him, scooting over until you’re in his space. Hiroyuki’s breath grows tight. Your bed is bigger and warmer than his futon ever was, and sharing it with someone feels entirely different than sleeping alone. You’re always holding him, getting closer and closer until he’s lost in your touch and not feeling quite so scared. This time, like many others, you lean in and kiss him. Your mouth is soft against his, and in no time you’re pawing at his shirt with reckless desire and need. 

He doesn’t resist. When you’re like this, it’s better to just enjoy it... and try to block out the negative things still hovering in his head. Focusing on the feeling of your lips trailing down his jaw is better than paying attention to the persistent thought that he’ll never, never be good enough. 

You suck a mark into the space just below his jaw. If he was still working at Oracle, Hiroyuki would have had to squeak at you not to do it where he couldn’t keep such a thing hidden. Now, when you’re helping him search for a new job that won’t tear him apart and leave him in pieces, Hiroyuki has no excuse. It feels good. He’s hard in no time. 

Legs rubbing together to try to get any kind of friction, Hiroyuki arches up into yet another bite. You’re down to his collarbone, his shirt is gone, and he feels like he’s starting to burn up under your persistent touch. 

“H-Hey, why are y-you being so... affectionate...?” Hiroyuki mumbles. His dick is twitching embarrassingly in his underwear, and if you keep this up, there’s a good chance he’ll come before you even manage to touch him. 

“To prove that I love you and want you to be my husband forever,” you say bluntly, as if blurting it out doesn’t faze you for a second. 

“Th-That’s—!” Hiroyuki starts, but promptly gets cut off when your mouth finds one of his nipples. The sudden shock of heat makes him twist and squeak, his cock pulsing out a shamefully large drop of pre-come from that much stimulation alone. His hips buck uselessly into thin air.

It doesn’t stop. You cover his chest in marks and bites and slick trails of your saliva left behind from kisses and the drag of your tongue. You suck and bite at his nipples until they’re pink and flushed, pebble-hard, and so sensitive that Hiroyuki swears he’s minutes away from spilling in his pants like a teenager. He wants you to touch him, but begging is just too much, and anyway, how is it his place to ask for more than this?

One of your hands finds his thigh. You rub long, slow lines over his skin, up to the juncture of his thigh and pelvis, where the aching bulge of his cock is just inches away. There’s no way you can’t see the (slowly growing) wet spot where his tip rests. Where he’s leaked so much it’s visible. Hiroyuki’s face burns at the thought... but his dick twitches once again. 

“Do you want my hands or my mouth?” you ask, smiling so fondly it hurts. “Either one is fine. I want to make you feel good.”

Hiroyuki opens his mouth to say that you can do whatever you’d like to him, but he closes it slowly when his thoughts stall. He... He’s allowed to ask. You’ll do what he requests, and you won’t be angry with him for it. 

“Your hand, p-please...?” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. This is beyond embarrassing. And— while he’s come to adore the feeling of your throat around him, there’s something special about your gentle fingers stroking him off like he deserves all of the kindness you can possibly offer. 

“Of course.”

His underwear is down a second later, and your fingers curl loosely around his shaft. You don’t tease. Instead, you stroke him at the perfect pace, only breaking the rhythm to kiss him stupid as he whines. 

This is bliss. He’s in someone else’s bed where he’ll fall asleep by their side. He’ll wake up to your face in the morning, and every morning after that. There’s someone who will touch him whenever he wants it and make sure he doesn’t break down in tears after he comes and what would have been loneliness sinks in. You care enough to keep him from drinking himself to death, and you give him all of the world you can offer. 

“I-I love you,” he moans. “So much. Thank you f-for wanting me—, I’m so grateful, I-I really am. I’m happy to be your husband.”

Hiroyuki buries his face against your shoulder after that. He comes in your hand within a minute to the sound of you saying you love him in return.

[pikahlua]

Weird question but, is possession theory still on the table?

It’s horrifyingly alive and well, actually.

I just can’t help but notice that Horikoshi didn’t take the opportunity to revive Katsuki before Izuku left the UA stage. So what is he waiting for? What is it Horikoshi? Is it just gonna be Katsuki waking up at a pivotal moment to save Izuku from Tomura in battle? I just...I wonder. I wonder about that. I really, really wonder about that. Is that what Horikoshi truly is waiting for?

Because there’s someone else who’s trying to get to UA right now, too--someone with a time limit and not much to lose.

Yeah, there are a LOT of alarms going off right now. Some themes are really really really really really converging on a Katsuki vs AFO dynamic.

The question is: what will the nature of this clash be? A physical battle? A vestige-world showdown? Both?? GROUND BETA IS RIGHT THERE. 

Katsuki caused AFO to feel genuine fear. When AFO realized that, it triggered a flashback of his fight with the Second OFA user (a flashback in which, lest we should ever forget, we see AFO crying). The flashback established the main philosophical battle: AFO’s “might makes right” philosophy where he values quirks based on sheer power versus the Second’s philosophy that the power of a quirk lies entirely in who is using it--or the “will behind the quirk.”

I shall wrap this up with an adapted explanation I gave in a discussion with @decaywasizukusquirk​:

I think the story has said the moment where TomurAFO panics while fighting Katsuki is about AFO feeling fear. Then, with the flashback to Second's snarky moment, something is happening where Second's philosophies that AFO rejected are coming into play. In other words, Katsuki's will is far more terrifying to AFO than his Explosion quirk is.

Second challenged AFO by championing the philosophy that a quirk isn't what should be feared, it's the will of the person who uses the quirk that should be feared. Second was most likely a legitimate threat to AFO, and AFO can't stand that. AFO probably hates to even admit that, because AFO thinks everything really is about powerful quirks. Note how he decides not to steal Jeanist's quirk because he says the quirk isn't that great--it's just that Jeanist is very skilled with it. AFO's pretty dismissive of Jeanist's quirk because he isn't patient enough to learn how to use it well. When TomurAFO fights Katsuki, he determines that Katsuki's firepower is the biggest threat about him, so he breaks Katsuki's arm and then Katsuki's equipment. TomurAFO told Lemillion he wouldn't fight him because he's not actually a power threat; Lemillion is ENTIRELY a "how you use it" quirk guy. AFO has no imagination--he just picks out the most OP quirks that require little thought to use. His master plan to end All Might was BIG POWERFUL FIST OF PUNCHING!!!

And on the other end, we have Izuku who spent his whole life analyzing the THEORY to quirks. Izuku's all about the will, not the quirks themselves. He loves all quirks because they can all be used to do special things if you can just think about how.

So the point is, if anyone represents raw willpower in a heads-up fight, how is it not Katsuki, quirk or no? How is it not Mr. "I will twist myself to win the way I want. I won't accept I can't even beat you that way” himself? Katsuki thinks of battles in terms of what others can do strategically with and without quirks: he trusts in the wills of his teammates to "save him when he needs saving" and vice versa; he refuses to underestimate any opponent (or even any civilian); even when he thought Izuku’s quirk would be useless against All Might in their final exam, he still used Izuku as a body double equipped with one of Katsuki’s gauntlets to outwit All Might.

All together, this means AFO thought he had disarmed Katsuki and had no reason to fear him, but then Katsuki surprised him by reading the absolute hell out of him and by using his own Explosion quirk in a new way.

AFO is a manchild. He's literally a powerscaler dudebro.

Tell me I'm wrong. Tell. Me. I'm. Wrong.

[sineala]

is there any fic of yours that you hold dear and that went under the radar a bit? ❤️

Ooh! Interesting question! (Also I have a bunch of your fic bookmarked and have not yet read it; I am looking forward to getting around to it but also my brain has decided that it hasn't wanted to read or write much of anything since early 2020 and I am very slowly regaining the willpower to read and write fiction but apparently reading is taking longer than writing. So I apologize to you and anyone else has who has written fic since then. It's not you; it's me?)

Anyway! I am sorting my fic by reverse kudos order. It looks like my least popular work either has sad endings, is super short, or just hasn't had as much time to accumulate kudos as something I wrote a decade ago, which is fair. Like, I feel like at some point people will come read Tabula Rasa because eventually they will be unable to resist the lure of 40,000 words of fluff about one guy who used to be in an iceberg and another guy who used to be a sad brain in a jar, but it's only been a year. And I think people will come read Cold Front after I eventually finish writing the series and can deliver on a happy ending, though this is clearly going to take me years. I have so many depressing books about some combination of being gay, the 80s, and NYC to read as research. Also actual canon, lol.

So once you exclude that kind of thing, I think the stuff I am proud of that didn't get as much traction tends to be stuff like remixes. And I also get why people skip remixes, but I have several that I have done that I think hold up on their own, which possibly means I don't understand how to write remixes, but whatever:

Armistice (The Nothing Else Matters Remix) is a DreamVision/Inception fusion of what was originally a MCU story. I moved it to Noir/616. Noir Tony has to get inside Steve's mind to wake him up, except... this guy isn't the Steve he knows. A 616 Civil War fix-it.

Breaking Point (The Abort, Retry, Fail Remix) is actually super fucking sad because it's a remix of a story of Kiyaar's where Steve murders Tony during Avengers #29. At least, he thinks he does. Tony ends up in a coma and then with amnesia. The original was Tony's POV but I kept wondering what the hell was going through Steve's head this entire time so I wrote this. I got out a lot of words about my feelings about Steve's characterization in Hickmanvengers, though.

Hour of Greatest Need (The Left to His Own Devices Remix) is another POV swap remix of a Steve POV story about that What If where Doom strands Tony in Camelot. I wrote the Tony POV; it was fun to write a character who has presumably read a bunch of science fiction and is trying to game out time travel.

If You Want to Live (The Historical Present Remix) is a time-travel 616 Civil War fix-it (yeah, we all have favorite genres) that was originally a MCU story where Bucky attempts to time-travel and murder Tony. This was not what I turned it into.

See You at the Bitter End (The Rest of the Rainbow Remix) is a 616 Civil War fix-it that I swear has a happy ending but also I think I killed Steve four times first.

Wonders of the World (The Keep Me Safe from Harm Remix) is an early v4 PWP which I read Secret Avengers and Fraction IM in order to write, which was when I discovered that Steve really hates black-ops, which was not something fandom had expressed to me. So it's a PWP about how much Commander Rogers hates his job. Weirdly, this is not the only story I have that I would describe as this.

I have more remixes than this, but I think these are the ones that probably hold up on their own.

Thank you for the question, though! This was fun.

[jacobsbigmelons]

after waking up from my nap, i am now only thinking of Jacob (edit. and pain. did i mention pain? yeah pain)

i’m so very sorry but after having one angsty thought now I need to make it happen (reqs i see you fear not!)

A shot not worth shooting

Jacob Custos x Male reader(?)(idk if this necessarily counts but let’s roll with it)

angst, reader character death, slight gore descriptions, reader turned werewolf, arguing, maybe ooc jacob? i legit have 0 clue how he’d act

The tourniquet Abi applied to your thigh a little while ago helped stop the profuse bleeding from your thigh, your wound, slightly exposed to everyone since your pant leg was ripped from the top definitely wasn’t the best sight to see.

“How do you feel?” Kaitlyn said as she stood in front of you, your arms wrapped around your one healthy leg as your wounded one laid to the side. “I don’t know…I feel like my senses are overloaded or something.” You slowly laid your head on your knee as to try and ignore the very apparent headache that’s made it’s way ever since your encounter with…whatever that thing was.

“Do you remember what it looked like? We couldn’t really decipher a lot from how panicked you were a bit ago…” Dylan said, tilting his head in slight curiosity incase you’re able to give any information. “God like…a human but a dog? it moves like a dog but looks like a human? I don’t know, I really don’t.” It became clear with your hands now beginning to run through your hair as a means of trying to sooth yourself that something was wrong and it wasn’t because of blood loss or anything.

An hour maybe two went by, you were able to muster the willpower to find yourself with Jacob close to the dock, the quiet lake was peaceful despite the crickets and their chirping. Your leg was surprisingly not too painful when you walked, could be that the tourniquet is numbing it or maybe your mind is at way too many places to focus on the pain. You two sat on the dock as Jacob held you his arms as a way to sooth the fear from earlier.

Your forehead laid upon Jacobs forearm as his pulse from his wrist was distinctly becoming more and more apparent to your ears, a slight ringing accompanying the random fixation. Your heart rate picked up, your fingertips became numb, your saliva glands kicked into overdrive but not before Jacobs voice brought you back to your bearings. “You okay?” He said slightly concerned while his thumb rubbed against the back of your hand.

“Sorry I…I think my adrenaline from earlier is barely fading away or something, so i’m feeling pretty tired.” You gave him a small toothless smile before resting back onto his forearm. A half hour went by before Emma, Kaitlyn and Dylan were in the building behind you two. Their voices slightly heard made you in a way feel more safe knowing your friends are with you. You should feel more comfort, even secure knowing they’re there right…? Those thought peered into your mind, you only felt safer for just a few seconds when you realized they were there so why is your heart racing so much? Why is your breathing beginning to get a lot more heavy?

“Babe you okay?” Why was your breathing becoming so much faster? your healthy leg more fidgety? The smell of iron in the air so much more apparent? Louder voices? when did they get here…why is everyone so loud…when did you get on your side? “Why the fuck are they making that sound?!” Kaitlyn said, her gun in her hand, trying to find every excuse she won’t have to use it.

The groaning- no growling coming from you was throwing everyone off track, Jacobs hand on your back wasn’t helping and everyone trying to make sense of it only added to your irritation. If they weren’t already freaked out, the sudden, very loud blood curdling scream you emitted definitely would. Your legs picked yourself up without you even trying to get up, you were practically clawing at your face while trying to figure out any way to stop this sudden overwhelming feeling.

Jacob took it as his sign to back up from you to the others, though everyone freaked when Kaitlyn backed up slightly as she aimed down sights directly at you. “Kaitlyn! what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Jacob snapped “You can’t just shoot him!” Dylan chimes in “Shut up! both of you!” Emma also chimed in. You were merely making whimpers at this point before you finally looked behind you at Kaitlyn, directly in her eyes as a barrel of a shotgun was pointed right at you. “Kaitlyn please for the love of god put the fucking gun down please!” Jacob pleaded, clearly not understanding the situation at hand. Dylan’s quick back-stepping elicited Emma even Kaitlyn to do the same which eventually Jacob followed too.

Your heaving breaths had this disturbing addition to it, a noise almost like reverb which made everyone on edge. Until you quickly returned to loud whining as you fell back to your knees as the clawing at your face was happening again. “R-Run, fuck you guys need to get out!” Your voice now with a disturbing echoing reverb of your voice made way. “Guys let’s just fucking go” Emma demanded, Dylan nodded along with her “What?! We can’t just fucking leave him-“ Jacobs sentence interrupted by your now booming voice “FUCKING RUN, JUST GO AND LEAVE ME ALONE.” You screamed out as Emma practically had to yank Jacob before he even got the chance to think, the others running behind them. “Why the fuck are we leaving he needs fucking help!” Jacob yelled “Did you not see him?! He’s becoming one of those things, Nick did the same shit…kinda but still the same-“

The sudden howl made it all obvious what was happening, Jacobs denial not wanting to believe what you are now, though his thoughts don’t last long before a loud growl through the trees somehow caught up with the group. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck what the fuck is actually happening” Kaitlyn said to herself, Jacob had a cold sweat as his mind put everything in perspective unfortunately. What he didn’t know was the silver bullet cocked into the shotgun. Their run was cut short as you leaped out at them in hopes for your first kill, though you were just barely off Kaitlyn immediately aimed right back at you again.

“Dude it’s fucking y/n, you can’t shoot you just- you can’t.” Jacob begged as his hands were trembling “So what? let him kill us? I can’t just not do anything” Kaitlyn said, her gaze on you for as long as possible, thought her one mistake was staring at Jacob for just that split second. You took the opportunity and ran disturbingly quick at the group, Emma’s screams and Dylan’s panicked screaming for Kaitlyn to shoot brought her focus right back to you.

You…the councilor that everyone felt like they could befriend? the councilor that was that perfect mix of sweet yet sarcastic? The councilor now boyfriend of a pretty yet dumbfounded guy? Kaitlyn can’t shoot, she wouldn’t do that to Jacob. Or at least that’s what Jacob thought. The sound of a shotgun filled the air, Jacobs balled up fists hiding his gaze from you, the others quiet.

The writhing of your newly transformed body tried to fight its way back to life in any way it could, the bullet hole going right through the shoulder. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck this didn’t just happen” Jacob tried to reason with himself as he finally turned just a bit as your now limp body laid on the dirt road. Your limbs twitching as the abnormalities began to slowly revert back to much more of a human look.

Kaitlyn couldn’t help but drop her gun after coming to terms with what she had just done, both of her hands now covering her face out of guilt as she muffled apologies, unable to look anyone in the face. Jacob couldn’t bear what he was feeling as he once again looked away before staring Kaitlyn down, his eyebrows creased with anger. “YOU FUCKING SHOT HIM?!” Jacob screamed taking a step towards her “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU WANT ME TO DO?! LET HIM JUST KILL US? DID YOU?” Kaitlyn retaliated, moving her hands from her face.

Both had red puffy eyes, their voices cracking from fighting with one another. Emma’s lament pulled the two away from one another as she was now next to your body, now back to its human form. Blood pooling beneath your corpse as Emma couldn’t help but weep for what happened. Dylan merely sat, hands around his head trying to contemplate the last few minutes. “This night has to be some fucking nightmare” she cried as her accusation was proven false by just how real your body felt, the blood that covered her hands as she felt your lifeless body.

At this point the two were done fighting, now slowly making way to where you were. It didn’t take long before the four councilors sat next to you, as dangerous as it was with whatever these things roaming the forest were, they couldn’t leave. Let alone Jacob.

His hat somewhere along the dirt, his hand holding yours, begging to feel some kind of sign you’re still alive. Though your lifeless, bloodied eyes only stared at Jacob with lost hope as you breathed your last breath awhile ago.