#and in a turtleneck some more ugh

[randomingoftherandomness]

If I had to feel like I was being thirst trapped by this man, so do you too ✌🏼

[todayisafridaynight]

hear me out on this one

[thatskindasapphic]

I've been in more of a masc mood recently and I have NO MASC SUMMER CLOTHES. Everyone pray for me please I am going through it

[anantaru]

DAY 13 — BITING/MARKING

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — kaveh, kazuha, cyno, venti

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, biting/marking, neck bites & marking you with his cum, tit play/tit sucking (cyno uses his vision on you but only a little), fingering, oral (fem! receiving), lots of cum & kind of messy (venti's part)

𖧡 — KAVEH

kaveh will leave his eyes closed before he slopes his head into your neck, and oh, who would've thought? you can feel his blonde hair lightly prod your cheeks before you breathe in the cloying fragrance he wore— such candid scent was one wefted within sumeru roses, a prairie of perfume that had wended its way through his body pressed on top of yours.

"having trouble, hm?" a low, teasing voice rattles kindly into the shell of your ears before you cling onto him, the arch of your back more defined as you sneakily grind your sensitive cunt against his exposed erection, choking out a breathy sob as kaveh kisses the stinging splotches on your neck.

it's almost too slow to your own liking, amost punishing and it drives you mad— how kaveh doesn't give your little cunt some much needed attention, but instead wholly focuses on branding his white canines on your neck and collarbones instead, because the thought of someone seeing them was absolutely intoxicating, besides, it was way easier to spot that you're taken when your neck was littered all over with hickeys.

"mhm… no trouble." the gentle, candid noises you'd make whenever he tips you into a dreamy haze, it pushes kaveh towards the edge of cumming without even being touched by you yet. and he begins to rut the mattress underneath him in a feral tempo, immediately ghosting his hands over your shaky figure before settling two digits on top of your puffy clit— his wet lips, never leaving your neck and suckling strong on the soused places before rubbing your cunt, battering his rough finger pads against the thudding nerves and awaiting your moans turning the humid air all the more sweeter.

fuck— you’re barely able to express how good he made you feel and how impossibly deep his fingers reached inside, pummeling a hot bristle on your cheeks as your hips meet his sensual touch half way, the metrical movements slurred and passionate— perfect traces setting your skin aflame.

truthfully, it’s quite the win-win situation whenever kaveh marks you up and pleasures you at the same time— for one, it’s never hidden whenever curious eyes trail along your beautiful figure. whilst, okay, maybe you will end up trying to cover it up with a large scarf or a turtleneck, but your handsome boyfriend will scoff at you, overly dramatic, a sad roll of his eyes touching up his precious face when you tell him it's very inappropriate if someone spots those hickeys on you.

𖧡 — KAZUHA

you blink down between your parted thighs, in a daze, and whine out in the most heavenly tune imaginable, in utter approval when kazuha drags the flat of his tongue inside the flesh of your folds— the wet lick on you was certainly claiming and presses the air from your aching lungs, the pink muscle expertly gyrating through your slickness as he begins to suddenly mouth away from your approaching sensation.

you sob at the loss— heaving out little why, why, why’s before becoming irritated, tilting your head in confusion as your eyes follow how kazuha laps his tongue all the way to your thighs, precisely the spot that served as a bridge to your legs and your cunt. ah, you smell so nice, quite the sweet fragrance and kazuha truly wonders what that might be, locking his soused lips around a spot before greedily suckling at the skin, the squelching noises of his mouth echoing into your thudding flesh— earning a whispery gasp from you when his palm, that was previously placed on top of your stomach, suddenly touches your clit to rub his thumb right on top.

kazuha can notice the reactions he coaxed out of you a little more precise now, how delicious and perfect you tasted and ugh, the feeling on how you tense entirely when his lips nibble and gnaw around your skin ever so slightly while his finger grow greedy in their movements, eagerly massaging two digits on your folds before prodding at your slit.

he teases, your arousal gushing out of your hole that it makes his mouth water at the sight— truly unsure what he preferred right now.

irrespective of wether it was guzzling on copious amounts of places on your thighs and mark them with bristling hickeys— so kazuha can look at them whilst fucking into you, or even afterwards when he pats the quivering skin and prances his warm palm on top.

his mind spins dizzily now— the very reason for that being when he abruptly notices how you're pushing your hips upwards into his fingers when he kindly inserts the first, long digit into your gaping hole, parting your cunt effortlessly and stuffing your arousal right back into you.

the atmosphere inside the room too, grew in hotness before coming crushing down on your fondling bodies pleasing each other, sweat forming around your forehead and right under your breasts.

ugh, how cruel, it's so hard to choose— and kazuha believes he'd never be able to pick a favorite between pleasuring your cunt or marking you up for that matter. yet of course— and such goes without saying, as long as you're wholly enjoying yourself whenever he has his hands on you— there was no reason for him to stop doing it.

𖧡 — CYNO

cyno's grip around your wrists was powerful— so dominant and compelling that it's almost bruising your tender skin, in addition was it extremely pestering how he locked your hand above your head, rendering you moveless, so he could get a pretty good look on your cute nipples perked up all nicely and ready to receive his warm mouth gushing around them.

occasionally, he decides to pinch them, eagerly listening at how you're yelping out through a rigid jaw whenever he'd add a considerable amount of electric sparks through your flesh, then bring you back to his unwavering attention on your cunt as he keeps thrusting his hips hard.

"you do like that, yeah?" he mutters and makes sure he wasn't doing anything you weren't comfortable with, and hearing him say it through a luscious, cloudy tone made you clench around his dripping shaft even harder— but the very moment he slants his head down to mouth a couple wet spots on your breasts, you're done for.

"let me do that again.." he whispers, massaging one tit before gathering some of the flesh from the other, hollowing his cheeks, sucking down, repeating himself over and over. you whine, then moan his name, your lashes sticking together due to copious amounts of globules expelling from the corners of your eyes as you wiggle your hips for more, arching your back so you could push your tit into his mouth before he stains your skin with warm, tingling spots.

you swear he wasn't done yet, cyno was a sucker for drawing your orgasm out as long as possible, the little hairs on the back of your neck standing tall when he grazes his sharp teeth over a nipple, the trace of his canines stinging yet drawing you into his touch, luring your deepest, most desperate attempts to somehow make him reconsider, and give you what you truly desired.

𖧡 — VENTI

your fingers strongly web into venti's hair as he greedily stuffs your cunt with his cock, so desperate and rough that your sore hole clenches around his entire shaft to keep him inside, the sudden constriction on your tightness throwing him out of his smooth thrusts, becoming sloppier and erratic.

although— he loves the way you pull at his hair while he fucks you silly, even lets out a breathy chuckle against your parted mouth as you pull at the roots to press his lips against yours, so you could show him what he was doing to you, and how insane it made you feel. "mhm.. venti.." you sob, whine and pitch your hips up so he could continue to greedily devour your pussy, plummet his entire shaft inside and massage the spongy insides of your cunt— like he's never touched you before and has been starved of you for what felt like a gruesome eternity.

and venti can't wait any longer, your moans absolutely wrecked his sense of self control as he pulls away from your mouth before rutting himself deeper, hiding his face in your neck to suckle at the skin and sense your upped pulse vibrate over his precious lips.

his long lashes conceal the brilliant, unique shade of his lusting eyes as he fucks you like he hates you, however, venti was utterly obsessed with everything regarding you, strongly nestled between your thighs, leaving an aftertaste of his long, pink length on your walls before he pulls himself out instantly, fisting his cock into the small tunnel of his palms feverishly— it's such a lewd sight to behold and your mouth waters right then and there, panting out sweet, little winces when he pumps two fingers back into your core.

the capture of your orgasm hits you deep inside your constricted stomach, the strong aftershocks becoming excessively noticable due to the reappearing twitches in your hips as tears began to pearl at your lashes when you cum around his digits the second he empties himself out.

on the spot, venti moves himself on top of you the way he always yearned for, the way it just had to be, his breathing low and through gritted teeth as he shoots his warm whites over your bare torso, reaching all the way to your collarbones.

you flinch at the warm feeling, your toes curling inwards as you're giving him a few more seconds to empty himself out— messy hair strands sticking on his damped forehead as he groans deeply into his chest, then huffing out an exhausted laugh right afterwards. fuck, how he immediately sets his eyes on you to watch you relish whilst being soiled and marked up by him, being fully aware that venti cannot help himself but imprint himself on you, wether it was inside or outside, the visual perception of it alone sending a new twitch straight into his groin, his lips coated of saliva as his brain feels heavy with an obsessive amount of both bliss and lust.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[seireitonin]

What alternative subcultures the Creepypastas would be in!!(pt 1)

This was an ask I accidentally deleted! Oops! I also listen to all the music I put in here! So it’s also a small glimpse into what I listen to! Also as some of you know I’m in the scemo and goth subcultures! But I know a lot about alternative cultures period so this was fun to make!

LJ: VICTORIAN GOTH 100%!! / Victorian Circus Core

I mean he’s literally from that era

The feathered shaw, the black and white color scheme, the black lipstick and guy liner with the pale white face!!

Literally a goth king. That’s an outfit I would definitely see at a goth club!(I’ve been to many)

Another part of goth culture is liking horror/ monsters. Since LJ is a monster he’d fit right in!

He’d be accepted by most goths despite his looks bc goths have morbid dark fashion senses themselves!

So if they saw his swirly cone nose and sharp teeth they’d be like: omg! I love your look!

He’d definitely listen to classical music and other goth music Specifically Switchblade symphony and Cocteau Twins

He definitely listens to old PATD

I can see him wearing other Victorian inspired clothes too!

Like dis:

Jeff: Metalhead/ with 90s emo(for nostalgia.)

I mean look at him

He’d definitely shit on nu metal and still listen to it

The long greasy black hair, not showering, thinking he’s better than everyone else yeah sounds like a metal head to me/ hj

He listens Cattle Decapitation, Peeling Flesh, Suicide Silence, Cannibal Corpse, Avatar and literally anything with machine gun drums

He listens to some 90s emo but will never admit

Definitely wears band shirts especially the ones he got from concerts when he was a teen

He loves a good mosh pit

You know, the ones where you come out all bloody?

Yeah he loves those

He can hurt people in them and it’ll be fine? Sign him up! (Man has no pit manners smh)

Definitely a metal elitist

“You like SOAD? Ugh that not REAL metal”

Stfu Jeff.

Yeah. Metalhead to his core.

LJill (I love her, so underrated)

Victorian goth as well, but she leans more in the gothic Lolita side of it

Wears pretty gothic Lolita dresses with lots of black and white lace, buttons and she’ll have a matching bonnet and parasol to match when she’s feeling extra fancy!

She feels so elegant and feminine when she puts her multiple layers of petticoats on! She wouldn’t be caught dead without them!

Her makeup and lipstick is always perfect.

Her hair is always either perfectly curled or perfectly straightened

The goal is to look as doll like as possible ( also because she is one!)

She listens to music box like music if that makes sense?? For example Swan Lake by Fairy Lullaby or Porcelain Eyes

She, like LJ listens to classical music and goth music

But mainly classical and music box!

Will go to tea parties and knows how to make tea cakes and sandwiches

Just a lady all around!

Jane: Trad Goth/ Casual Goth/ Amy Lee

Since Jane is always on the move and doesn’t really have time to get all dressed up

So she’ll usually be in a simple black dress or black pants and a turtleneck

But when she does get a chance to dress up

She dresses trad goth mixed with Amy Lee

She’ll have her hair long with bangs covering her forehead

Trad goth makeup, but a bit more modern,big eyeliner and arched brows

She’ll be wearing corsets and waist trainers

Long skirts, ripped leggings

High heel platforms

She goes all out and she looks great!

Listens to music like The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, New Years Day and The Birthday Massacre

Can do goth dances very well

God she’s beautiful

Toby: Midwestern Emo/ early 2000s emo/ a tad grunge/ indie

He just looks like one tbh

But seriously he had a hard life and emo music gives him comfort

Toby wears flannel shirts, grandpa sweaters, simple tee shirts and pants that are loose but not too loose

Hiking boots, sneakers

He listens to Chidos, The Front Bottoms, State Champs, Real Friends, Nirvana, Yawning, Hail the Sun, The Used, A Lot Like Birds, Static Dress, Mild High Club and many many more

He can play the guitar, drums and sing pretty well

He needed something to keep him busy while he was homeschooled after all! And it took his mind off of the horrible things he was going through

Plus with him feeling no pain, he could practice his hands bleed so his hands are really calloused

He likes to sit in the woods and just listen to music sometimes

He’s a loner like that

Especially in the fall when the leaves are so pretty

He feels almost peaceful. Almost

EJ: Tbh I can’t put him in a single box I feel like he’d be everything

He’ll listen to whatever whenever

Except religious music it freaks him out

Ya know because of the cult that took his eyes

But I see him liking dark ,dreamy music if that makes sense

His taste actually lines up with Toby’s pretty well

Static dress, MGMT, YKWIM by Yot Club, Homage by the Mild High club, My Bloody Valentine, Grouper

Also anything with sad guitars like wish by sign crushes motorist (Toby likes music like this too)

Sometimes even lo-fi if he has to unwind

Jack wears all black most of the time. Just so he doesn’t look too dirty

Black hoodie, black shirt, black pants, black shoes

He also feels like any other color won’t go with his now grey skin

But yeah EJ is just a dude with a wide music taste

We love that for him

Nina: Obviously Scene+Emo= scemo

Do I even have to explain?

She listens to Pierce the Veil, Sleeping with Sirens, Bring Me the Horizon, Paramore, AFI, FOB, Get Scared, Hey Monday, MCR, Ghosttown, Millionaires, Brokencyde, Medic Driod, Dot Dot Curve, A Skylight Drive, ISMFOF ,everything Toby listens too as well(and many more)

Nina wears either all black with colorful hair or has her signature black and pink with more colorful outfits

Cheeta print, skulls, DIY stuff, band shirts, tube tops, tutus, skinny jeans, brass knuckle necklaces, hoop earrings, black eyeshadow, big teased hair with raccoon tails

Yeah she’s 2000s emo fs

Goes to raves and concerts like crazy

But she’s not opposed to any kind of music and will do goth makeup for fun

And wear Jane’s clothes

She thinks goth is really pretty but it’s just not her

She’ll stick with scemo lol

Jason The Toymaker: Steampunk/ Victorian Circus Core

The copper in his clothes

The bright red hair

The long flowing jacket with intimate details

Yeah he’s definitely steam punk

Im not sure what kind of music steampunks listen to but I’d like to know!

Jason definitely listens to Emilie Autumn and old PATD

BEN: EDM

I mean…it was obvious

Skillix, deadmouse, xxxanteria, Luci4, old Flying Lotus albums, 9lives

He’s literally code so I think he’d like it

Not much else to say here tbh

I’m getting tired so lmk if you want a part 2 lol

[hannya-writes]

When they save you from a brothel (Zoro Edition)

Title: The perfect Girl

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

Other characters: The Owner

Category: romance, adventure

Warnings: there's a Kiss! Zoro is a bit Ooc because I couldn't found a way to make this happen 😅, as before there is kidnapping and violence in this chapter, there's no smut in here, walk away, horny people!! (No wait come back!!)

Author's note: just like with Luffy, this happens 6 years in the future, so Zoro would be 27 years old, why did I wrote this in the future? Bc I thought only that way Zoro would change enough to take the decisions he does (?) Nah, I just like characters to be older! Anyways, to the story we go!

• • •

You didn't started working there because you wanted.

When you were 15 your Mother/Father were sick and you wanted to help them.

You started cleaning the floors, washing dishes, serving the woman who needed help with make up or hairstyles.

The owner of the place tried to make you work for them as a prostitute, but you didn't wanted to.

So they started to pay less, at first just some berries. But those berries lost made you unable to pay for your parent medicine.

After a month without the medicine your parent started to feel worst and worst.

And like a balm, the brothel owner offered you a loan, just the right amount for the medicine.

And you thought the owner was a good person, that you would be able to pay back. :readmore:

But one day some one robbed you and the owner give you more money.

In another occasion someone stole your clothes as it was drying in the sun, the owner gave you money to buy yourself some clothes.

You couldn't pay the owner back and somehow the loan got bigger and bigger until it became an impossible amount.

Then the owner offered a deal: You could pay working for them as a prostitute or he could turn you to the police for stealing.

That time there was no room for you to say no.

Since then they gave you a room, nice clothes and even a maiden to help you with everything you needed.

Close to no clothes, very tight clothes or the worst: Lingerie and a silk robe.

And you do what you are forced to do.

There are clients that are gentle but there are those who get violent, who creep you out, who enjoy when you say no.

It's a nightmare so you try to escape. At first you sneak out but get caught.

Then you jump from the window of your room, but the guards save you from a sure death.

When they realize that you are trying to kill yourself they start to drug you.

And that's the worst because then you can't leave, you need the drug if you don't have your dosage you start to feel ill. You feel like dying but without dying.

And then you just… give up.

Zoro

Unlike Luffy, Zoro actually had the pleasure house as his objective.

However, it wasn't to exchange his money for sex. He was only interested in the Sake. The pleasure house you were trapped in was famous because of theirs.

The thing was, the place was full of people. Men with women at each of their sides. Women with skimpy clothes and big smiles.

The bar was packed too, but he was lucky as a men decided to stand up and leave with a woman.

He took the open spot and he would have ordered sake but the bartender was too busy.

"Oh god, here comes the golden bitch" a woman commented by his side and Zoro tried to not pay attention to her

"Ugh she's the favorite but she's so arrogant, who does she think she is? Boa Hancock?" The other woman complained and suddenly he got interested, he had met the ex-shichibukai but in his opinion she wasn't as beautiful as everyone said.

He followed the gaze of the two annoyed women and saw "the golden bitch" (aka you) walking towards the bar.

Zoro had seen his fair share of women, princesses, queens, warriors, samurais, minks, giants, mermaids, etc. but in all that time he had never seen a woman quite like you.

You were elegant dressed with a black dress that accentuated your figure, with a turtleneck and window in the shape of a heart. At first sight you seemed arrogant and intimidating, but after further inspection Zoro noticed how empty your expression was.

However it was easy to overlook your expression with all that gold jewelry in your wrists, neck, ears and hair. You were so eye-catching, he even felt there was a halo around you.

'Golden bitch' he almost laughed because of the accuracy of the nickname. He turned back to look if the stupid bartender was free but to no avail "the fuck do I have to do to get some Sake?" He thought to himself.

"Excuse me" you said, taking the seat by the side of Zoro before bending over the bar, almost giving everyone around an excellent view of your ass hadn't been for the dress.

When you sat back there were three bottles of sake in your hands and a sakazuki cup on your cleavage.

"I believe this is what you want to drink," you said calmly, putting two of the bottles and the cup in front of Zoro, suddenly turning into the most beautiful woman he had ever met. "I apologize for the wait the bartender is having a hard day"

"Sure" he said as you got down from the seat with your bottle of sake "thank you" he added as you turned to look at the two women who had spoken before.

"If you two have time to bad mouth me, serve the clients and stop being a couple of common bitches" you said and Zoro actually enjoyed seeing you metaphorically bite them.

After that he poured his sake on the cup and tasted the very first sip of the famous drink.

You on the other hand walked back to the side of the room, to the owner of the pleasure house, just on time to hear someone inform him that a very important pirate was there.

The owner asked who it was and the person informing showed him a wanted poster of the man you just had helped.

Which explained everything, after all you had heard his thoughts over those of everyone else.

Some time ago you had eaten a devil fruit in hopes of getting a power to escape from the pleasure house, but all you got was a power to hear people's thoughts, desires or intentions. The more powerful they got, the louder and clearer were the voices.

Moments ago all you had been able to hear was "sake, sake, sake" and the person giving you a headache with his desire for sake had been Roronoa Zoro.

"Come on, darling" the owner told you as they took you by your hand and dragged you back to the bar. "You got a special assignment" he added as he pushed a little bottle of poison on your cleavage.

'I'll get so much money if I kill him' the owner thought to himself and you felt dread filling your body.

You didn't want to do this, not again. If Roronoa Zoro discovered you were trying to poison him he would certainly kill you.

"Don't make that face, it makes you look ugly" the owner ordered you before caressing your cheek. They disgust you, with a sigh of defeat you composed your face."That's it, much better"

The owner walked to the swordsman and introduced you, adding that you will be serving him his drinks in a room since he was one of the most wanted pirates of the world and he didn't want some marine to appear and try to stop him from having fun.

Zoro accepted without a doubt, after all a place away from all those people sounded good.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Roronoa-san" you said when you got in the room.

Zoro only hummed. not wanting to give the impression that he was interested in you since you were a prostitute. He knew that give you attention would only make you try to get physical with him.

"Do you always do this?" He decided to ask as you poured the drink for him.

"Only for very special clients" you admitted without lying since this wasn't the first time you were forced to do poison someone.

"What kind of clients?" You could literally feel his distrust, it was like a needle piercing your chest.

"Ummm…" you thought for a moment, feeling that if you lied he'll know, and you weren't wrong, Zoro was studying your face. "famous clients" you smiled but he noticed the happiness didn't reach your eyes.

"How did you know I wanted sake?" He continued and you felt a cold sensation wash down your back.

"It was a hunch, I also like sake, I know how a sake lover looks like" you lied and mixed it with a truth, you liked sake, you could recognize someone who liked it.

"Get another cup then, you'll drink with me" he decided and you looked at him surprised. He hadn't took that decision as a safety measure to avoid getting poisoned, but out of a whim. That made you giggle, he seemed invincible.

"Roronoa-san is very generous" you commented and that time when you smiled a spark of life appeared in your eyes. Zoro liked that spark of vitality, he wanted to see more.

You left for a moment and when you got back you had brought the cup and more sake.

That time Zoro poured the drinks and you took a sip that made you sigh.

"Roronoa-san, you must have many stories, would you share them with me?" You spoke to him with respect and fake admiration but so naturally he almost believed it.

"I'm not good at telling stories" he answered and he immediately regretted it since you simply accepted and drank another sip of your drink with a slightly disappointed expression.

"I met my captain the day I was going to be executed…" he started his story and was instantly rewarded with an expression of surprise and happiness on your part.

'How cute' you heard him think at some point of the story when he described his friend Chopper and you got excited.

Usually men thought you looked hot, sexy, fuckable and those kinds of things. No one saw you as someone cute, it made you blush and Zoro enjoyed the unrestrained emotion his thought had provoked.

"It's your turn" he said when he ended his story and you looked at him with a confused expression.

"My turn?" You asked frowning.

"Your turn to tell me your story, it's how it works" he explained and for a moment you got trapped in a flashback, a succession of escapes ending bad, hits, lightened cigarettes being pressed on your back only for someone of the staff to "erase" your scars with the power of a devil fruit.

"I'm afraid that will kill the good mood" you commented but since he had told you a story, you decided to humor him. "This story is not mine…" you said as you started your narration.

You were creating the story as you told it but everything made sense, it was about a Swordsman, since Zoro was one.

Zoro enjoyed the story, as you were telling it, he noticed how relaxed you were, how your vacant expression came alive every now and then.

"You are good at telling stories" he praised you making you blush again.

"Thank you" you answered with a smile that made Zoro's ears turn red, how were you doing that? How were you managing to get all of his attention?

"Could you tell me another story, Roronoa-san"

"Sure, why not?" He said and noticed how you leaned forward on the table expectantly.

"Wait, Roronoa-san, I'll go for more sake" you interrupted him moments later as he told you about Enies Lobby, he nodded and you left in a hurry wanting to hear more.

"What is taking so long?" The Owner asked you when he saw you in the kitchen.

"He asked me to drink, I can't poison him" You explained and the man slapped you across the face.

"Stop being useless and find a way" he said angry and left you there.

When you got back to Zoro it was with a tray in your hands that had three bottles of Sake and a plate of snacks you ordered to poison.

"What happened?" He asked the moment you crossed the threshold.

"I'm sorry I took so long…" you started to apologize but Zoro wasn't listening, his gaze was on your cheek. In the small amount of time he had seen you, you had shown to be a level headed, smart and elegant woman who didn't bother anyone… So, who had slapped you and why?

Fuck, why was he so fucking angry about it? Has Sanji's character rubbed off on him?

"What happened?" He asked curious, pointing at your cheek and you touched it softly

"I made a mistake" you said without thinking, touching the burning skin where you had been hit. "It's ok, I deserved it"

'no, you don't' his thought warmed your heart, it made you wonder how could such a rough looking man be so sweet.

"I thought you were the favorite" He said frowning and you laughed without happiness.

"I'm just a caprice of the owner" you said, offering him a cup full of sake that he gladly took. "I'm their precious canary, but that doesn't mean he won't hit me" it took you a moment to realize what you had said, you had spoken your mind without thinking, showing him the real you.

"What an idiot" he said, still bothered every time he saw your red cheek.

Feeling his annoyance directed at the owner made you comfortable but wary, no one was that good.

"Why? Would you treat me better if I were yours?" You teased taking a seat on the table, by his side. "You know what's my work?"

'of course' Zoro answered in his mind but only looked at you with a serious expression. You leaned towards him and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"I'm a whore I kiss men, I make their fantasies reality, I let them use my bo…" it was his hard gaze that made you shut up.

Why were you saying that? Why were you discouraging the infatuation the swordsman had on you? Why did it bother you that he had made you drop your act of the perfect girl?

'how annoying…' His thoughts made you smile, a weird sensation prickled on your brain and it took you a long moment to comprehend what your devil fruit power was catching on him.

Yeah, coexisting near the love cook had finally rubbed off on him because he wanted to hold you, kiss you… get you to a safe place.

'protect' was what you were catching from the swordsman. He wanted to protect you and you were building walls to reject feeling like a damsel in distress.

"Roronoa-san…" you whispered before pushing away the sake for you to sit right in front of him with parted legs in an inviting way. Your hand took his and you guided it to your thighs. Maybe if he fucked you he'll forget about his attraction to you "It's fine if you want me" you guided his free hand to your chest but he suddenly reacted by getting away from you.

He couldn't do it, he was not made of stone, he felt things, he had urges but he didn't want to do that with you. No when you were doing it because it was your job. It would be like taking advantage of you.

"Roronoa…" you followed him with your eyes only, knowing he didn't want you to touch him, knowing what he was feeling because you were in synchrony with him.

"Shut up" he told you and you obeyed "Stop trying to get in my pants" his choice of words made you blush and laugh, laugh for real.

With a huff you hopped down from the table and he watched as you went to the very lavish bed in the room. The very same bed Zoro had been actively ignoring from the beginning.

"You aramazing...Your feelings are overpowering me" you finally said as you lay in the bed hugging a pillow.

"What?" Zoro asked, taken aback by your words.

"You have a crush on me but you respect me, you think I shouldn't be here, that I should leave" you said so softly that Zoro got closer to hear you.

"I don't…" Zoro was blushing big time.

"I ate a devil's fruit, I can read minds, so don't bother denying it" you cut his sentence.

A slight blush stayed in his cheeks.

"Fine, whatever" he almost went back to the table but noticed that you had in your hand the last bottle of sake "hey, what are you…?" He saw you drink from the bottle, his eyes followed the path of the sake that spilled from the corner of the bottle's mouth forming two very appealing rivers that traveled from your mouth to your chin and then down your throat.

He hated his sudden urge to lick the sake from your skin.

"There's been others like you," you said when you drank, taking him back to reality. You cleaned the corners of your mouth and continued. "You think you are heroes, but you just want to chain me, hide me where no one else but you, can see me" Zoro got closer and tried to take the Sake from you but you pulled your hand away to avoid his hand. "I mean, it's kinda an implanted fantasy, look at these" you showed your wrists with bracelets that covered almost half of your forearm. "This scream shackles, this says save me! Be my Prince charming" you mocked

"Pathetic" He suddenly said and you looked at him bewildered since you were able to feel his very clear desire for you but his words and attitude were the opposite. "You have embraced your cage" he leaned over you, you felt his intentions of taking the sake from you.

He was right, you were able to read minds but you felt like he was the one reading yours.

You were afraid, you didn't want to get your hopes up only to crash and discover he was a liar.

'Say the word' his mind was saying and your movement to get away from him staggered at that.

Word, what word? What was that supposed to mean? You tried to retreat but in a blink you were caged between two strong arms, the bed and the body of Zoro.

You took the last sip of the sake but before you drank it Zoro lifted you from the bed and put you over him, straddling his lap. The gravity did its job and the sake went from your mouth to his as you graced his tongue with yours slowly, so very slowly and sensually.

'Ask for Help' he thought and you pressed closer to him, wanting more if only for him to stop asking that of you.

"I'm not a damsel in distress...They sent me to kill you, Roronoa-san" you confessed not expecting anything from him. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"And how would you do that?" he asked amused, taking you by surprise. You tried to get away from him, but his hands kept you close to him.

"With poison" you answered with seriousness and he smirked.

"Poison" he repeated in a mocking way dismissing you "I'm no prince charming, you know? I'm a pirate" one of his hands gently pushed a strand of your hair away from your face.

You didn't have time to even be confused by his words because the idea in his head slipped inside yours: kidnap' Your eyes grew bigger and the smile in his face let you know that he was aware that you knew. You opened your mouth to tell him not to do it, but with an easy move he put you over his shoulder and started his escape.

The next minutes were filled with people trying to stop him and you giving him directions to get out of the brothel.

But Zoro is terrible with directions, so of course he turned in the wrong direction and of course he entered the wrong hall and somehow he ended up destroying the whole place.

When you finally got out, you looked in disbelief at the building in flames. How had that happened? You were not sure, but sake was flammable so…

"Roronoa-sama, you are amazing" you said as he walked away from the crime scene "wrong direction" you let him know and he stopped, turned in the other direction and started walking again.

"Your welcome" he said and you groaned in his shoulder.

"It would be easier to get you to your ship if you put me down," you said, resigned to your future.

"I'm fine, I don't need…curly brows?" When he said those last words you frowned.

"Marimo?" A man's voice answered, leaving you in the dark "that is no way to carry a lady!" He complained and Zoro growled.

'I forgot about the love cook' you heard Zoro think and you were puzzled wondering what could that mean.

The swordsman put you down and you looked at the blond man before you with an expression that made Sanji's eyes become hearts and you were able to hear his thoughts, all of his thoughts.

And Sanji's dirty and sweet thoughts at full speed scare the shit out of you, making you hide behind Zoro and fist your hands into his clothes.

"Oi! You scare her!" Zoro complained annoyed. There was a small discussion and finally Sanji guided you two to the ship where Zoro had a short conversation with the captain, who got closer to talk to you minutes later

"Y/n, do you want to be a pirate?" Asked Luffy in front of everyone and you looked at him seriously.

"No, I just want to stay by Roronoa's side"

Luffy laughed, satisfied with your answer.

"Then, welcome to the crew!"

• • •

Next... ?????? Edition

Who's edition should I write now?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Special Interest 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, age gap, creep behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Saturday morning has you in a fog as you awake from a long night of vivid but forgotten dreams. You can't recall a single detail but you're thoroughly irritated by your nocturnal alternate reality. As you go down to claim your morning coffee and bid away the headache looming behind your brow, you're greeted by your parents' voices.

"Hmm, it's still doing that thing," your dad huffs, "strange."

"I told you, hon," your mom hums, "that nice man says it's um, you know, this U part... well... I can't remember exactly what he said."

You drag your feet into the kitchen and squint, "call a plumber, please. I'm done getting sprayed in the face."

"You got plumber money?" Your dad snips, "look, I can figure it out. I'll check the Facebook group."

"I'm sure all the boomers on their will know exactly how to lift the sink up by its bootstraps," you chuckle.

"Honey," your mother warns as your dad fumbles with his phone, jabbing at the screen with his index finger.

"I'm not a boomer," he grumbles as he shakes his head.

"Kidding," you fill the coffee carafe from the fridge filter to avoid further breaking the sink, "you know I'm teasing."

"Huh, says here I got the wrong part," your dad scratches his chin, "s'alright, I gotta grab a few things down at the depot anyway."

"How much are you going to spend before you get a professional in here?" Your mother challenges.

"It's eleven bucks, honey," your dad retorts with a sickly sweetness in his tone, "you wanna come with me?"

"Ugh, no, I'm making lemon meringue."

"Lemon mer-- why on earth are you going to all that trouble?"

"Because, Wilson, is it's a nice day and I want pie--"

Right, you're going to let the coffee brew as their marital discord does the same. Your parents tend to swing between head over heels and to the point of throwing hands on any day. A stormy but efficient relationship. It hardly lends credence to your mother's desperate pleas for you to snag a husband.

You go back upstairs and sit down at your work table. You open your planner and review your tasks for the day. Print some stickers, get some more work down on that infinity scarf, and maybe a nap if you make good progress. First, some music to drown out your parents as they go back and forth. Oh marriage does seem like a fairytale.

🧶

Your day wanes away to afternoon as you furrow your brow at your needles. You slouch uncomfortable against a pile of pillows against the corner of the wall. Your legs are bent atop the bed as a Youtube video plays on your phone and fills the void. The ombre effect looks good but this is sure tedious.

The fall grays to a winterly malaise. The only good thing about this time of year is the opportunity to wear turtlenecks and drown in hot drinks. Thinking of, you could use another. Maybe not coffee, but hot chocolate could scratch your itch. You loop the scarf over your neck as you jostle off the bed and keep up your looping.

You drift out of your room, crocheting and peeking up every few steps. You make a lazy descent and as you come to the first floor, you hear a commotion in the kitchen. Is your dad still at it? At this rate, you may as well just toss the sink out.

You enter, hoping that a hot chocolate isn't too much to ask. You stop short as you see two legs sticking out from beneath the sink. Those are not your father's boots. Did he really cave and hire a plumber?

Your mother hovers over the man, watching him as she leans on the open cupboard door.

"Thank you so much for doing this," she preens, "so lucky you could make it over. I swear, Wilson was going to drive himself to an aneurysm," she babbles. That's the thing, even service workers are a target for her ramblings. You pity the man stuck beneath the pipes, trapped with her yammering.

"Yeah, no problem, beats the troughs at the farm," the man responds lightly.

Suddenly you don't feel so bad for him as you recognise his voice. Your mother sure is an idiot. She invited this weirdo into her home? Your home? You can't say you're surprised, only deeply disappointed.

Before you can flee, your mother's attention is drawn by the unintentional click of your needles as they hit each other. Fuck.

"There you are, sweetie. Look who came to fix the sink," she chimes.

"Ugh," is all you give her as you commit to your mission. You poke the needles into the yarn and let them hang. You grab a packet of chocolate powder and mug. You keep your back to the duo as you flip on the kettle to boil.

"Hey," Cole says, his voice no longer muffled beneath the counter.

You don't acknowledge him. You mom harrumphs.

"Honey, don't be like that. He's a guest," she tuts, "oh, Cole," she continues on her tittering, "I made some pie, do you want to stay for dinner?"

You growl. This isn't going to work. You think you'll just starve in your room. You narrow your eyes at the kettle, willing the water to boil telepathically. It doesn't work.

"Well, I'd hate to impose," he says, grunting as he sets his feet and stands, his shadow rising over your shoulder. "Alright, so this is what we're going to do, start the dishwasher. It should create enough pressure to clear the block."

“Oh, you're so clever,” your mother praises. “And it's no problem, we have more than enough. It must be such a far way, I couldn't send you off just like that.”

“He probably has work to do on his farm. His home. Hanging out with the pigs or whatever,” you chirp.

“We don't have pigs. Got some chickens though. Oh, you should try some of the eggs,” Cole brushes by your insult, “maybe I could bring you some–”

“Probably not necessary, they sell eggs at the 7 Eleven.”

“Don't be so rude,” your mother snaps, “you're embarrassing yourself and me. If you're going to keep this up, you won't have any pie.”

“Fine with me,” you stick your tongue out.

“Look, hey,” Cole injects with his palms out, “I guess… I guess it's time to come clean. Camila, your daughter, she has a good reason to hate me. We've met before and I put my foot in my mouth and I think I embarrassed her so for that I apologise. I feel awful about it and I should've brought it up sooner.”

“Oh, wow, you–” your mom reels at the revelation, “well, I think then it's meant to be. The universe brought you back so you can apologise. Honey,” she turns to you, “can't you forgive him?”

You blink. The kettle clicks off as it boils. You glance between them. You turn your back to the kitchen and fill your mug, stirring with a spoon before tramping off without a word.

His act might work on her but you know he didn't find you to say sorry. He's too old to be wasting his time on you. He's pathetic.

[sleepysnk]

can you imagine

having a hard training session with kakashi. at first, you can only focus on doing it better than him, on your movements, on your technique. but after taking a little break, you start focusing on how hot he looks right now: he’s wearing his sleeveless turtleneck that reveals his strong arms (and his abs are noticeable through his shirt, too), his muscular thighs flexing every time he gets up and down, his concentrated face, his serious behavior and his low, calm voice makes you weak.

you try to keep those thoughts away. but there’s only one thing you can’t keep looking at: his hands. the way his fingers move when he does his jutsus, how he playfully moves his kunais with his skilled fingers…you have to stay calm and collected, but a little bit of fun between training sessions is not bad at all, right? good thing he does take that kind of fun as training, too🤭

a/n: i just had to write a drabble for this because jen 😵‍💫 you make me go crazy for kakashi all the time. he deserves the best, idc.

pairings: kakashi hatake x fem!reader

warnings: canonverse, nsfw, smut, fingering, praising, dirty talk, teasing.

could you imagine being kakashi’s rival and training with him? ugh, doing better than him of all people is what you wanted the most out of that session. however, his features were making it extremely difficult to stay focused on your goal.

kakashi also decided to wear only his sleeveless turtleneck too.

the sweat dragged down his muscular arms, giving his pale skin a light glimmer to it. your eyes couldn’t help but stare at how they flexed at every movement he made. you didn’t want to keep looking at him like that, but he was becoming hard to resist. the moisture on his body made his shirt cling to his abs, outlining every single curvature and indent. it became harder for you to keep training.

kakashi was handsome and kind. he offered you some water during your small break, and, of course, you took the offer. it was very hot outside. it’d be wrong of you to not hydrate, right?

however, the water didn’t extinguish the heat that developed between your legs. seeing kakashi twirl a kunai knife around his fingertip practically drove you up the wall. you had to pry your eyes away from the sight.

though, what you had no idea about, was that kakashi had noticed your lingering gazes. he saw your eyes drinking in the sight of his sweaty body. he took in every single thing you did, and, he couldn’t lie, your glances were enough to turn him on. fuck, he wanted you to make a move so badly. screw the fucking training, he’d rather be fucking you.

that’s how you ended up in the position you were in now.

your back was pressed against kakashi’s chest. several moans fell from your lips as his fingers pumped and curled inside of your cunt. your thighs were spread apart with your feet flat against his legs. his free hand was wrapped around the base of your throat which kept your head in place.

kakashi hated making the first move, but you were an exception. you had been driving him nuts all fucking day, and he couldn’t hold back against you anymore.

“k-kakashi!” your fingernails dug into the wood of the tree branch the two of you were sitting on. your mind was cloudy with lust. you could barely keep yourself composed with him.

your sweet cries and moans for more were only encouraging kakashi to keep up his pace. his long, slender fingers were perfect inside of your weeping pussy. he was able to touch every spot inside of you that made your mind turn into mush.

“yeah.. that’s it, sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “you like it when i finger your pussy..? you take it so well..”

his deep voice was sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. kakashi only smirked when he felt your walls quiver with delight at the sound of his words. he knew you’d enjoy those little compliments from him. you were always such a sucker for praise.

kakashi’s cock was harder than a rock. he wanted to be inside of you so bad, but he needed to see you cum from just his fingers. he wanted to watch you crumble from everything he was doing to you. it was what you deserved, right? you were his pretty rival. maybe for once he’d let you win.

his assault on your pussy only quickened. your cries only became louder for him. however, there was no need to keep you quiet. there wasn’t a single person out there for miles. it was just the two of you, all alone.

your thighs began to tremble, and that familiar band in your belly was beginning to tighten. “oh! fuck.. kakashi, i’m gonna c-cum!” you whined, reaching upward to tug on the fabric of your shirt.

every time his fingers pressed that button inside of you, your vision filled with white stars. the need to cum was only growing more and more as he touched it. it almost felt as if he was doing this on purpose to see how far he could string you along.

however, it wasn’t going to last very long. your orgasm was on the brink of being reached.

“oh, yeah? that’s a good girl.. i wanna hear you scream my name when you cum..” his grip around your throat had tightened as he spoke into your ear. butterflies erupted in your stomach from how seductive he sounded.

at last, your orgasm had washed over you. a loud cry of pleasure had ripped from your throat. kakashi’s name was heavy on your tongue as many words slipped from your mouth.

sparks of euphoria danced along your stomach, and some small squelching noises had began to fill your ears as he rode out your climax with you. god, you were so fucking hot to him. he never imagined he’d see you in such a light, but he had zero regrets.

he also couldn’t help but record every little detail with his sharingan. he wanted to remember this little moment with you forever.

you were about to get up and leave, but kakashi didn’t remove his hand from your throat. he kept you in a place as he leaned towards the shell of your ear to speak to you.

“how about we do some extra training..? i think your legs need some work..”

[obetrolncocktails]

Karma Sutra | Sam Kiszka X Reader | Part 1

Warnings: In this chapter-slut shaming, objectifying women, use of alcohol. This series will include 18+ content. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: This series is one of the first that I put out. It has been left incomplete for quite a while. I felt that it needed some updating and reworking, but it is one of my favorite plot archs...so get ready. There will be fluff, smut, and a WHOLE lot of angst, so pull up your panties and get ready.

Summary: Chasing after the boy who is easily known as one of the sexiest and cockiest on campus...what could go wrong?

You felt eyes on you as you walked across the quad between classes. For what reason, you couldn’t place, but you knew that you were being watched. Peering across the quad, eyes flitting in all directions, you attempted to find the source of your insecurity. Nothing. You bundled yourself tighter within the thickness of your peacoat, shielding yourself from the blustery December cold. Making your way under an awning, you smelled the familiar odor of cigarette smoke. It wafted in your direction, beckoning for you to turn your gaze upward. Ugh. Of-fucking-course. Sam douche-bag-extraordinaire Kiszka. “Cold as fuck out here,” he said, puffing out O-rings of smoke from the side of his mouth. 

“Mm, so you decide to step out in twenty-four degree weather to smoke a ciggy?” You spat sarcastically. 

 “Bad habit, sweetheart. You know what they say…they die hard.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and kept walking away from him. “There’s a party on the row tonight–you coming?” your eyebrows furrow instantly, turning to meet his gaze. 

“I haven’t been to a frat party in over a year, Sam. Why would I?” He threw his hands in the air, shrugging. His cigarette remained burning between two fingers, dropping ashes every few seconds to the ground. “Just thought it might be nice to see a refreshing face for once.” 

What the fuck? Why was Sam taking sudden interest in me? “I gotta make it to class. See you around.” You waved him off and continued walking to class. 

“Hey, Y/N, for old-time’s-sake, it really would be nice to see you there.” His eyes were the color of chocolate, which was ironic. His beauty could melt any girl on campus just like the confection–except for you. You would always be the exception.

“Bye, Samuel.”

Samuel. He liked that. He bit at the corner of his lip, his eyes following you as you disappeared within the halls. Mm, I’ll save her for later. Blowing out the last puff of smoke, he stubbed out his cigarette against the brick wall, dropping it carelessly to the ground before strolling away to the next entertaining encounter. 

***

Philosophy class soon turned into Philo-so-fucking-boring class extremely fast. Your mind wandered from the lecture, unable to focus. Why the fuck was he watching me? The truth that you wouldn’t even admit to yourself was that you had feelings for Sam, and had since freshman year. They had remained in the recesses of your mind ever since. For one, he was an asshole. You and almost every girl on campus knew it; however, some part of you would always have a soft spot for him, no matter how cocky he was. He just didn’t know it, and you sure as hell wouldn’t show it either. Fuck that red turtleneck sweater. Why did he have to look so good in it? You caught yourself doodling random hearts and sparkles in the margins of your notes as you thought about him. 

“Pssst, hey.” Your best friend, Paige jabbed you from behind with the top of her pen. “Pay attention, there’s going to be an exam tomorrow.” Your hands flew to cover your notebook from her view. “What are you hiding?” She whispered, curious as to why you were being so secretive. 

“It’s nothing, just drawings.” You realized a little bit too late that mere drawings wouldn’t have elicited such a reaction.

 “Doesn’t seem like it’s just a few drawings.”

 “Ladies, would you like to share your conversation with the class? Is it more important than the material that will be on tomorrow’s exam? Would you like to take it today after class since you don’t seem invested in the review?” You fell silent and averted eye contact, heat creeping up your necks to your faces. The remainder of class passed excruciatingly slow. When three o’clock finally arrived, you filtered out of the classroom to meet up with Paige. 

“So I was thinking…how would you feel about going to the Row tonight.” Meeting your expectations, she recoiled instantly. 

“Uh, who are you and where is Y/N? You never go to parties.” You turn away from her and begin to walk down the hallway. 

“I just thought it might be nice to do something different for a change.” Your cheeks were flaming again. 

“You’re such a liar. Who is it?” You bit your lip. 

“What do you mean?” you stalled. Paige stopped you mid-gait, grabbing at your arm. 

“Who is it, Y/N?” You had no choice but to look at her. 

“Ryan McClean.” Another Lie. It was a good replacement though. He was sweet, good looking and respectful. At least as much as could be expected for a frat boy. Paige stepped back with a hand on her hip. 

“You’ve never mentioned him, let alone told me you have a crush on him.” You continued to walk, ushering her forward.

 “Well, it kinda happened fast. I don’t know–I was hoping to see him tonight. I wanted to look cute.” You saved face by putting on an extra air of confidence. 

“Okay, okay I see you!” Paige grinned, snapping her fingers left and right as she walked. 

“Unfortunately, I have a date with Mark tonight–so I won’t be able to go.” You nodded, secretly relieved that she wouldn’t have to see you lose what little humility you had left. 

“Stay connected to the phone, don’t drink too much, play safe, get home safe,” she counted off on her fingers. 

“Thank you, Mom. Would you like to dress me, too?” you asked, grinning. Paige rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Actually, now that you ask, let’s go pick out an outfit that doesn’t scream…pilgrim lost in the twenty-first century.” You eyed her for a silent moment, challenging each other not to laugh, but you were the first one to lose, throwing your head back and cackling at her. 

“You are such a bitch!” You said, elbowing her. “Let’s go." Paige wouldn’t let you go to that party without looking your best.

***

“Lacy Monroe.” “Total babe, 13/10. Would fuck her any day,” Wyatt Sellars interjected, a massive grin pasted on his face. 

“Okay, how about Holly?” Matthew asked the question from the ping-pong table, tapping balls back to Wyatt. Christian Hearst entered the room next, a towel wrapped around his waist, applying deodorant to his armpits. 

“Wilson? She’s a bit of a bitch, but I'd chase her for a little while until I got bored.” He chuckled, walking to the fridge for a beer.

“How about Y/N?” The room falls silent, save for the fast bounce of the forfeited ping pong ball that was previously in play. Samuel Francis Kiszka. He sits cross-legged on a lounge chair in the corner, knocking back the rest of his IPA.

“You mean the sexiest girl at school?” Wyatt offered. “Is she Mormon or something? She could have easily made her way through the entire football team by now.” 

“Jesus, you dumb fuck, she’s not Mormon.” Christian came behind Wyatt, thumping him on the back of his head. 

“Well-I didn’t know, I–” 

“I think she’s stunning,” Sam says, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. His grin was obvious. His cunning expression cut through the room.

“Okay, asshole. What’s with the look?” Christian moved to the couch, taking a seat across from sam. 

“I saw her today. Walking to class.” He licked his lips as he talked. Christian rubbed his hands together, prepared to hear about some salacious romp. 

“And?” 

Sam’s eyes grow wider. “Oh, n-nothing happened, I just saw her.” A chorus of disappointed scoffs filled the room.

 “You suck, man. You literally had us going, just for fucking nothing,” Wyatt whined. 

“It’s not like anything would happen– I’m pretty sure she’s a virgin anyway,” Sam continued. 

“Oh, so she’s the pick of the litter. Nice!” Matthew interjected. Sam looked at him with a minor look of disgust, shaking his head. 

“So why are you being a pussy, Sam? I Bet–” Christian pointed his finger at Sam in a telling gesture. “I bet you…I bet you that she won’t let you take her virginity before the month is over.” Rising from his seat, Sam padded to the kitchen tossing his beer bottle across the room, where it clattered into the trash can.

“I bet you I can make it happen. Six hundred dollars and open supply of weed for one month–split evenly.” His grin emanated throughout the room.

“Aha, bet!” Matthew said, coming around Sam to slap him on the back in approval. “Paying up like a man.” Sam took a long gulp of his beer before retreating to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

***

Just as you finished your makeup, your hand slipped and your eyeliner streaked messily through the eyeshadow that you had just applied so effortlessly. “Fuck!” An exasperated sigh escaped your parted lips as you wiped at your eyelid to salvage the look. After several minutes, you emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed except for your top–you didn’t want to ruin it with makeup stains. Just as you pulled your head through the sparkly black crop top, your phone chimes. Paige.

Show Ryan what he’s missing, bitch! Shake that ass in my absence, too. Stay safe, I love you. Call me if you need me.

Right. Ryan. My little secret. You sent her a quick text wishing her well on her date. Pulling a pair of gold hoops through your ears, you got a notification that Carlos, your Uber driver, was waiting outside of your apartment. Grabbing a few last minute items, you made your way downstairs. Pulling up to campus, you noticed one thing first. It was loud. So loud in fact, that your head  was pounding by the time you made it to the Row. The identical houses were arranged in a perfect square with a patch of green lawn in the middle. Adirondack chairs littered the grass, loosely thrown around a glowing brick fire-pit. Girls looped themselves around boys, chattering aimlessly with beverages that sloppily poured over the sides of their cups and onto their laps and into the grass. They giggled and slurred–their heels dug into the earth, causing several unfortunate partygoers to trip and lurch, earning themselves yet another spilled drink or bitchy laughs from gaggles of jealous and judgemental girls.  

You rolled your eyes, debating on going after all, but your feet were already moving underneath you, carrying you along the sidewalk that led to each house. Who were you to think that it was smart to come here alone, especially when it was the first party you had attended in God-knows-how long? 

“Y/N!” Your eyes darted upward, trying to place the voice that was calling your name. You found him. Your eyes met his and you instantly felt like you were drowning. A vignette seemed to filter out the unnecessary material around you; the blaring music muted, the giggles and shouts subsided into soft static. He was impeccably dressed in navy silk. A tailored blazer skimmed his bare chest, provided as a mere accessory rather than a true piece of clothing. His bottoms hugged at his frame, falling just above a perfectly shined pair of leather loafers. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets as he looked directly at you–with that fucking smile. 

He strode towards you, knocking you out of the trance. Your breath hitched, sending bolts of panic through your system as he approached. Oh shit, what do I do? You thought, averting eye contact as you made every attempt to not look as awkward and helpless as you really were. 

“You’re not a hologram, right? If I remember correctly, you acted like you would rather be caught dead than come to the Row.” His feet landed in front of you as he arrived. You met his eyes, crossing your arms defensively.

“Well, I wanted to see what I was missing–by the looks of it, it just looks like it’ll lead to meaningless sex and a bitch of a hangover.” He readjusted in his spot, cocking an eyebrow upward. He likes your sass. He likes it a lot. 

“Well, it is a party, Y/N, what better to do than get drunk and fuck, hmm?” You scoffed at him, stepping off to the side, making your way to the first house. You heard his shoes tapping the pavement as he walked. Good. You wanted him to follow you. 

“What is your drink of choice?” He asked, trying to change the subject to something more playful. “I usually stick with tequila–the citrus notes are just–” You heard him kiss the tips of his fingers in a “chef’s kiss” gesture from behind you. You couldn’t help but grin, careful to maintain your guarded disposition. 

“Got any Pappy?”  You asked, turning over your shoulder with a grin. “I’m an expensive lay.”

Sammy snorts. “Two thousand dollar bourbon? You know the fucking answer, sweetheart.” That earned him a smile. You turned to face him and were immediately tossed upside down at the sight of his dimples. 

“Well, we do have some lovely white claw reserve that was bought at this very upscale store. Maybe you know it–Target?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at him. 

“Shut up, Sam!” He smiled warmly, coming beside you, pulling an arm around your shoulder.

 “Let’s go find something worth drinking, hmm?” You hadn’t processed what was happening, but you didn’t want to, either. You let it happen, weighing risk versus reward.  You stepped forward into the party with him at your side, forgetting the lie you had told paige. So much for finding Ryan. Instead, you found Sam. 

End of Part.

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[nyxronomicon]

Nyx, my beloved - I am here to share some more thots regarding assassin choso x reader. (ps. I love, love, love a black turtleneck on a man so let's go with that and also, I pictured the yakuza boss being sukuna too!!)

choso starts second guessing if he should continue his work with sukuna. the man is one of the most violent, deranged criminal lords in the country but choso has been nothing but loyal towards him. he's been in this game since he was nineteen years old, trading his life into protect his younger brother, itadori, who ran with the wrong crowd.

itadori's mistake costed choso his freedom. all he's ever done is sacrifice but if it meant protecting his loved ones then he had no qualms. but now, with you in the picture, he can't but think if this life makes sense to him anymore.

I picture him standing in sukuna's office, his mind wandering to other places. maybe he can just work as a waiter, or bartender until he can figure out what kind of career he can build. he'll take any honest work at this point, as long as it means coming home to you with no shadows following behind.

the two of you can simply build a life together. maybe even have some kids. his throat tightens. he would love to see you as a mom. he saw you interacting with your friend's toddler recently and it nearly drove him wild. but it's not something you've both discussed yet and he won't push anything that you don't want either - but the possibility makes his heart flutter.

just wondering how a life with you can foster and grow.

he loses himself for a moment while speaking to sukuna, and his boss notices.

"choso" the man sternly calls out, snapping his attention back into place. "something on your mind?"

choso shakes his head, "no, sir.."

sukuna furrows his brows, his index finger tapping lightly against the surface of his wooden desk. "you've been distracted as of late. you know I don't like repeating myself."

choso straightens his back, two hands slipping into the pockets of his charcoal slacks. "I apologize," he expresses regretfully, "it won't happen again."

but he can't stop thinking of you even after sukuna repeats his assignment. can't stop picturing you in a white dress at the alter as he steps out of his office. can't stop thinking about how your honeymoon would be as he hops on his motorcycle to track his next target.

all the while sukuna sits at his desk, moves to open one of the drawers before sifting through the cabinet. he pulls out a file, flips through the stack of documents and photographs. he pulls out one where you're sitting right across from choso, the two of you at a coffee shop. his arm is draped over your shoulder, your cheek resting comfortably on his shoulder.

there are only a handful of people who sukuna trusts, and choso is one of them. he didn't join sukuna's gang on his own accord, but he turned out to be an exceptional asset. the king of the underworld narrows his eyes at the sight of your pretty face.

he can't have anyone coming in between his deadliest weapon. your lover is bound to sukuna for life, and he won't let choso go that easily.

FIRST OF ALL WHAT A BLESSING IN MY INBOX ugh i love him i love him I LOVE HIMMMM

also cannot forget that i love YOU too bb <3 <3 ok more under the cut heh...

!! dark content ahead !!

was i picturing toji as the kidnapper that disappears? no not at all why would i do that i would never....

cw: murder (you literally watch choso kill some guys lol), reader is kidnapped, BLOOD, reader wears a skirt, mentions of rough handling

Your struggle against your restraints as you come to. You're not dead, that's good. In fact, you don't feel any serious pain, maybe some bruising from rough handling but nothing major. You take in a deep breath. The air is cold, a little musty. You're blindfolded, sat in some cheap metal chair.

"Awake, sweetheart?" A man's voice bounced off the walls in the room. It was clearly empty. "You'll want to see this." The blindfold fell from your eyes but the man had disappeared just as quickly. You couldn't catch a glance at him, but you were sure this was the man that kidnapped you last night. Was it last night? How long have you been out?

"Hey, wait!" You shouted. "Let me go!" You struggled more, now able to see, though the only lights were spilling in from the hallway. Other than the chair, there was a little table. Your kidnapper had carelessly left the door open, and you saw a few men who looked like yakuza milling around in the other room.

Fuck. Yakuza? This shit doesn't happen to normal people. You struggled against your restraints again before seeing one of the men collapse with a hole in his skull. Shot with a silenced gun. Standing right behind where the man once stood was unmistakable. His twin pigtails and that tattoo across the bridge of his nose... it was Choso.

You watched as the other guys attacked him, and just like a trained assassin, he dodged and counter-attacked both men simultaneously. He now wielded twin daggers, the same kind yakuza are known to keep. In just a couple of minutes, the two men were gasping for air as their lungs filled with blood.

Was that your boyfriend? You couldn't even imagine him doing something like this before seeing it with your own eyes. He was too sweet and kind. He'd never hurt a fly. This had to be someone else. And this someone else just brutally murdered three men like it was child's play.

The stranger looked through the open door, seeing your eyes wide and filled with fear. He started to rush towards you and half of you wanted to scream, but something inside you held it back. The very small piece of you that knew this was Choso, despite your adamant denial.

"Babe, fuck, I didn't mean for this to happen." As he entered the room, it was undeniable. It really was Choso. Or some cruel, sick joke from the universe.

"Choso?" You could feel the tears forming.

Without answering, he pressed his lips to yours, the feel of his mouth, the passion. He was warm and comfortable. He was home. Tears sfell from your cheeks, but it was from relief knowing it was him.

"Let me get you outta here, ok, love?" He looked into your eyes, worry set deep in his features before he moved behind the chair to untie you.

"Did... did you kill them?" You asked, letting your limbs drop as the rope fell to the floor.

Choso was silent. He stopped moving, he even stopped breathing. This was his fear. You'd find out about him and then...

"Yeah." He ripped off the band-aid. "I needed to protect you. Sorry, this was all my fault." You could reject him, you could leave him, but he'd die before letting you rot in this place.

"Your fault?" You turned to look at him, massaging the dents left behind from where the rope dug into your skin. He was covered in blood, but it was still him. Even if it was his fault, he risked his life to rescue you.

"I..." Choso was still frozen, adrenaline pumping. He needed to save you first, that was all he could think. "Let's talk later. Please. We gotta get out of here. Can you run?"

Choso helped you to your feet. You felt a little wobbly, but you could manage. "I think so."

He frowned. He hated seeing you in this state. He hated the thought of another man grabbing you. Your short skirt showed off the bruises on your thighs from getting manhandled. Bruises in places only he should get access to. He could kill everyone on this building for even considering laying a hand on you. He needed to find the kidnapper and slaughter him senseless. It's what he deserved.

"It's ok, Cho." You touched his cheek, pulling him out of his vengeful thoughts. "I'm ok."

He didn't think twice before pressing his lips to yours again, kissing you even deeper as you tasted someone else's blood on his lips. Had he not been holding you so tightly against him, you might have fallen over from the force.

"Fuck," he whispered, worry still decorating his features as he pulled away. "I'm so sorry. C'mon." He grabbed your wrist, thinking about you in that white dress with your beautiful smile for the hundredth time. But this time, he was determined to make that vision a reality.

[midwestmade29]

Just The Way You Are 🥰

Thanks for the request @officialchristiancagebbgirlblog! I could relate to the topic of your request 100%. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it 🖤 Word count: 1,146 Divider by: @saradika-graphics *GIF is not mine Original Request:

Could I please request a turtleneck Christian Cage fic where he helps the reader feel better about herself after self confidence issues regarding her weight arise please?

Disclaimers: None. All fluff 🙂

When you're feeling down about yourself, Christian reminds you just who you are...

Christian had been written off TV for a while after earning a much-needed break. He just lost his TNT title to his childhood best friend, so to give his mind and body a rest, the two of you were set to go on vacation. Through the entire planning process, you had been so excited to get away with your man and soak up some rays, but unfortunately the closer the vacation got, the more self-conscious you started to feel. Every commercial, magazine and internet post you saw were of women who looked differently than you. They appeared to be flawless from head to toe, from their skin to their small waistlines and everything else in between. The bikinis they wore along with the dresses and other summer clothes were cute, some even sexy, but you had a hard time picturing yourself in them. Your self-confidence was taking a major hit and it started to rob you the joy you once felt about the vacation.

One afternoon, you were trying on some of the clothes you ordered for your trip. There were several dresses, shorts, tank tops and bathing suits you hoped would bring back some of the excitement you had lost, but no such luck. All you saw in the mirror when you stood in front of it was a stretch mark here and a stretch mark there, fabrics that seemed to hug every one of your curves in the wrong way, and patterns and colors that made you stand out more than you wanted them to. When frustration got the best of you, you let out a loud groan and plopped down on your bed with tears in your eyes. A soft knock on the doorframe caught your attention, pausing your thoughts momentarily. “Everything okay in here?” Christian asked softly. He looked around the room and noticed all the pieces of clothing thrown around with tags still attached, most of them inside out and starting to get wrinkled. He walked over to the bed and smiled down at you, but you only covered your face with your arms in response. “Hey, what’s wrong baby? Talk to me,” he murmured as he sat down. “I’m just having trouble finding things to wear for our vacation. Nothing seems to fit right, or I don’t feel attractive in it. This would be easier if I looked like the girls in the pictures,” you said with a sniffle. “I’ve been feeling bad about myself lately,”

Christian propped himself up on his elbow, listening intently to your thoughts and feelings. While he disagreed wholeheartedly about what you were saying, he never interrupted you or made you feel bad for it. Only when you started to apologize for your current state did he stop you mid-sentence, “No need to apologize Y/N. Your feelings are important to me. You can always talk to me about anything,” Christian got up and stood at the foot of the bed, extending his hand to you before walking you over to the mirror. He stood behind you with his chest pressed against your back, gazing lovingly at your reflection.

“Ugh, do we have to stand here? I look terrible,” you groaned. You averted your eyes from the mirror and Christian, but he gently grabbed hold of your chin and turned your head back. “Yes, we do. I have some things I want to show you,” He wrapped one of his arms around the top of your ribcage, resting it beneath your breast before speaking softly, “These here are just one of my favorite parts of you. Do you want to know why?” Your cheeks flushed when you thought about the answer, but Christian surprised you when he explained something totally different. “Your chest is one of my favorite places to rest my head. At the end of a long day when we’re snuggled in bed, I love laying there and listening to your heartbeat. It’s soothing, especially when you run your fingers through my hair,”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet remarks, but he wasn’t finished yet. He placed both of his hands on your hips, gripping them lightly and grinning. “Your hips are another favorite of mine. I love the way they look in your jeans and how they can make any dress you wear that much sexier. The way they sway when you walk makes me stare in awe every time,” Goosebumps spread all over your body as his fingertips tickled your skin on the way to his next destination. He grabbed the outside of your thighs and squeezed, but this time you cringed at the handful he had. “Please don’t tell me you like those too,” you begged. He ignored your request and continued, “Now these, these are the best. Not only do they look great in shorts, but they look even better when they’re wrapped around me,” You gasped at his last comment and turned around to face him, playfully smacking him on his chest. Your laughter filled the room causing Christian to smile brightly.

He took you in his arms, embracing you as he kissed the top of your head. “You are stunning, Y/N. I love every inch of you, every curve. I don’t want you to forget that. No one else compares to you and they never will. I have one more thing I want to show you,” he said before releasing you. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened his gallery before handing it to you. “I want you to look through all the pictures. You’ll notice there’s several of the same kinds because nearly all of them are of my favorite thing,” Christian instructed. As you tapped and scrolled through the gallery, tears started to well up in your eyes again. This time, they were happy tears. Almost all of his photos were of you, or of you and Christian together. There were photos of you sleeping, ones of you dressed up and some of you in your sweatpants. Pictures of you without makeup on and candid ones that you didn’t even know he took. The ones you noticed that he favorited were pictures you would never have considered to be good ones or flattering of you, but he loved them.

You handed his phone back to him, nearly knocking him over from the force when you hugged him. You buried your face in his chest, holding onto him tightly as you thanked him for everything, “This was so sweet, Christian. Thank you for helping me see myself through your eyes and making me feel better,”

“Of course, baby. You’re perfect in every way, there’s nothing I would change about you. I’ll always be here to remind you exactly who you are, and that’s the most beautiful girl in the entire world,” Christian said lovingly in between planting kisses all around your face.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #35: Kane’s Mark

Masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, recovery, scar reveal, begging, comfort

-

It was June now, and Jim was beginning to once again encounter the same problem he did every year: wearing a turtleneck in the summer was uncomfortable. Even his most lightweight ones made him wish he felt comfortable showing a little more skin on the hottest days.

Before, while he’d still wear one while going out, he’d at least been able to lounge around at home in a t-shirt if he felt less paranoid that day, in his more recent years. But he’d always either lived alone or with Liz.

Now... he lived with Kane again.

Kane was the absolute last person he wanted to bare his neck around. But it was so hot today, Jim couldn’t help but mutter an “Ugh,” when picking up a shirt that would cover his neck.

His air conditioning had been on the fritz lately, and wasn’t cooling his house down as much as it should be. He had an appointment to get that worked on, but at least in the meantime it was still somewhat working. The house would be pretty much uninhabitable in this heat if it weren’t.

It had been more than two months since he’d brought Kane home, and Kane had been perfectly well-behaved the entire time. Except that one incident, but that was because he was starving. Not his fault.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe this would be good for him, Jim decided. Face your fears and all that. He could always come back to his room and change if it became too nerve-wracking.

He picked out an old t-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a rock band his dad used to like. He had gotten rid of most of his own old shirts now that he pretty much exclusively wore turtlenecks, but he still had his dad’s old clothes.

Jim looked himself over in the mirror. He felt exposed, the two circular scars on his neck visible to anyone who looked at him, vulnerable for anyone to bite all over again. Despite the heat, he shivered.

A reminder that he was owned.

“I don’t belong to anyone. My body is mine. I’m out. I’m safe.” Jim whispered to his reflection.

It was something he tried to tell himself on his bad days. Today wasn’t a bad day, yet- he would never be able to muster up the courage to expose his neck if it was- but he needed the pep talk.

He sighed wearily and went to go draw some blood for Kane, because he damn chose to.

-

It was hot, hotter than usual come the summertime. Kane didn’t like that. The heat made him anxious, a reminder of the sun that loomed outside.

It made him cover up more than usual, making use of the long-sleeved shirts Jim had gifted him, the first and only thing besides mercy he’d used his notepad to request so far, pulling the hood up on his precious jacket, too.

The extra cover only made him that much hotter, but he felt safer this way. If the sun were to hit him right now, only his face and hands were exposed, and he could easily retract those into his shirt.

Jim seemed to have done the opposite, coming downstairs with a bowl of fresh blood without his usual turtleneck. Kane hadn’t seen him in a t-shirt since... since the day he’d run away. Standing on the porch of Kane’s house, bathed in sunlight, terror in his eyes.

Kane was not oblivious. It didn’t take much to figure out why Jim refused to show his neck around him. Kane wondered if it was just around him, or if he’d hurt Jim enough that he wouldn’t show his neck around anyone, even ten years later. He couldn’t possibly ask.

“G’morning. Aren’t you a little hot in all that?” Jim asked, handing him the bowl.

That was when Kane noticed the two familiar marks on Jim’s neck.

They were not as he remembered them, the skin around them no longer red and enflamed from the wounds being reopened daily for years and years. They were faded, like the ghost of the marks Kane used to leave in him.

He felt his blood run cold.

“Wh- what is that?” he asked before he could stop himself, staring at the marks with wide eyes.

The friendly smile fell from Jim’s face instantly, his face heating up with embarrassment as he slapped a hand over the marks, shielding them from view. “My scars. From you.”

“It’s... it’s still there?” Kane felt his heart sink into his stomach. He’d heard of scars, but didn’t know much about them. He’d never though that what he did to Jim would have left a permanent mark on his body.

“You pierced my skin in the same spot daily for five years, Kane. Yeah, it scarred.” There was an edge to Jim’s words, a bitterness that Kane had always expected but almost never heard from him.

Guilt and fear flooded him in equal measures. “I’m so sorry. I, I didn’t know.”

Kane couldn’t imagine how Jim must feel. For all the torture he’d experienced, none of it had ever left a permanent mark on him. No burn, no cut, no lash. But Jim would forever be branded with Kane’s sign of ownership, no matter how much Kane wished he could take it away.

Jim sighed, the edge seeping out of him. “Nothing you can do about it now. Just eat your breakfast. Don’t be scared. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Kane sipped at his blood obediently, licking up every drop, making sure not to waste any. Even when Kane taking his blood had scarred Jim permanently, Jim was still letting him have more. He couldn’t fathom it. How could he have ever hurt someone so kind?

He hadn’t valued kindness, before. But now, kindness was the only reason he was drinking a full meal of fresh blood instead of being burned alive under the summer sun.

He handed the bowl back to Jim. “Thank you.”

Jim took it with one hand, still covering his scars with the other.

“You don’t... have to do that.” Kane ventured nervously. “I’ve seen them. Obviously. And I’d never, ever think of hurting you ever again. I’m sorry I ever did.”

Jim slowly uncurled his hand from his neck, revealing the twin scars again. He looked so vulnerable, just like he had back then.

“Okay.” Jim agreed, his voice small.

-

Jim debated changing shirts, but decided against it. He felt like he had to prove to himself that he could do it. That he’d be giving up, somehow, by sacrificing his comfort to hide his neck from Kane. He’d wear his regular turtlenecks again on a day that wasn’t so sweltering.

But for now, he’d try to do this. It got easier as the day went on, Kane not acknowledging them again as the hours passed.

It occurred to him, not for the first time, that the fang marks were the only scars Kane had given him, for all the beatings, Kane had always stuck to things that didn’t break the skin. Hitting, kicking, choking him until he gasped for air. He’d never put those sharp, claw-like nails to use.

The thought had occurred to him before, but never with Kane available to ask about it.

“You never broke the skin besides feedings. Even when you were really pissed.” Jim pointed out. “Why?”

Kane hesitated before responding quietly. “Didn’t want to waste blood. It’s a horrible reason, I know. I’m sorry.”

It made sense. It made so much sense that Jim wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it sooner.

“I don’t think I would have cut you anyway, even if it wasn’t impractical.” Kane added. “I was a horrible, cruel person, but I wasn’t a sadist. Just like I never would have burned you.” He pulled his hood tighter over himself, shuddering.

Oh.

Kane was scared of the heat. That made sense, after everything he’d been through.

Jim got up and adjusted the fan, previously set to rotate its breeze around to room, now fixed directly on Kane. “This better?”

Kane nodded. “But, but it’s okay. You should take the fan.”

“Nah. I’m the one in short sleeves. Listen, I get it. I’m on year ten, you’re on year one. When I was on year one, I was bundled up on a hot day, too. You’ll get there eventually.” Jim promised.

“...Thank you. I’ll try.” He was quiet for a moment. “Can I ask you a question? About...?” He pointed to his own neck, to the unmarked spot where Jim’s scars would have placed.

Jim tensed up. “Yeah?”

“Does it hurt?” His voice was saturated with concern in a way Jim never would have thought Kane capable of a few months ago, before their reunion.

“...Yeah.” Jim admitted. “Not a lot. Just... it’s a dull pain. Some days are worse than others, but it’s mild. A lot of the time I don’t even notice, I’m so used to it by now. Been fifteen years since you started and all. It’s nerve damage. You know, from, uh, repeated trauma. It’s not really gonna get better. Arm hurts some days, too, but not usually.”

Kane looked absolutely crestfallen. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was hushed with horror. “I... I wish it were me instead. You deserve to never hurt again. I’m so sorry, Jim.”

Jim didn’t know a lot of the details about what Kane had gone through, but knew enough by now to know it was utterly horrific. Burned alive, cut open, skinned. Kane had casually let loose enough to keep Jim up at night. But being a vampire, he bore no scars from his ordeal, carried no lingering pain or bones that healed wrong.

“It’s...” Jim couldn’t bring himself to say it was fine. It wasn’t. “It is what it is.” he settled on.

Kane nodded somberly. Jim noticed his eyes start to well with tears.

It comforted something inside him to know that Kane really did care. Didn’t just regret what he did because it led to his own torture, but actually regretted causing him pain for no other reason than that Jim was hurting.

“You can hurt me back, if you want. I won’t resist.” Kane offered.

Jim was taken aback by this. Kane was so, so terrified of being hurt. He’d never have expected him to invite it.

“Kane. I have absolutely zero interest in hurting you.” It was true, now. He used to fantasize about revenge, about hurting Kane back, but it was just that: a fantasy. All desire for it died the second he laid eyes on the man Kane had become in captivity.

“Oh.” Kane said softly.

The phone rang, interrupting them. “One sec.” he told Kane, heading over to pick up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jim, how are you? It’s Chase. Just calling on behalf of the vampire hunters to check up on ya. Been a couple months, so we just wanted to make sure everything went okay with the leech after pickup.”

Chase... he vaguely recalled that being the name of the hunter who’d handed Kane off to him months ago.

A tiny gasp. Jim turned his head to the source to find Kane absolutely rigid, eyes wild with terror. With a vampire’s hearing, he had no doubt that Kane could hear the man on the other end of the call. Probably recognized his voice.

He’d better end this call fast.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Listen, now’s not a great time. But, uh, you d-don’t need to call back or anything. It’s all good.” Jim tried his best to sound firm, but he couldn’t help a slight shake to his voice. Who knew what kind of heartless torture this guy had enacted on Kane? If not him, then his buddies, while he stood by and did nothing.

Part of him wanted to tell him off for it, but he knew that would definitely not be in Kane’s best interest. Best to not piss these guys off.

“Cool, cool. Glad to hear it. I’ll let you go, then. Have a good afternoon.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jim said, clicking the receiver back into place.

“Please.” Kane begged, shaking fiercely, tears streaking down his face. “Please, please not again, please.”

“Kane, man, it’s alright. You’re okay. You’re safe.” Jim slowly approached him.

Kane curled into a little whimpering ball, trying as hard as he could to make himself small. “I c-can’t do it again. I can’t go back! Please, please!”

“You won’t. You’re not going anywhere, okay? You’re staying right here with me.” Jim assured him, resting a steadying hand on his shaking shoulder.

Kane flinched under the touch, before seeming to realize that Jim wasn’t hurting him, leaning into him instead as he sobbed. “Wanna stay. P-please. I’ll be good.”

“I know, I know. You’re... you’re being good, alright?” Jim hated using that language, but he knew it would be the fastest way to make Kane feel safe right now. “You’re being so good.”

He just looked so... frightened. So afraid of having to go back to the abuse. Jim knew that fear intimately. He knew it down to his bones.

Jim steeled his nerves and wrapped his arms around Kane, bringing his shuddering form into a hug. “I’ve got you. You’re alright. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

He was suddenly acutely aware of his bare neck, of Kane’s face just inches from it. It took everything Jim had not to recoil back out of terror. He could feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, and being so close, he was sure Kane could too.

But for the first time, Kane didn’t bite. Didn’t sink his fangs into Jim’s neck like he had so many times before. He just melted into Jim’s arms, trembling.

“Th-thank you.” Kane whispered. Jim felt his breath brush the side of his neck, and he just couldn’t do it anymore, jerking backward and wrapping his arms around himself instead.

Kane covered his mouth with a shaking hand, hiding his fangs from view. “S-sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re, you’re fine.” Jim mumbled. “You okay?”

Kane nodded, wiping his tears. “Are you?”

“I think so.” He felt a little triumphant, actually. He’d just faced his worst fear and nothing bad had happened.

But now he felt his resolve crumble. There was only so much he was capable of handling.

“I’m just gonna go change shirts real quick.”

-

edit: have some bonus content for this chapter!

drabbles posted between uhh the last time i remembered to do this and #35:

Curls

Stairs

taglist:

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[trashexplorer]

Title: Sunshine After Smoke Blue Rain vol. 1

Status: Completed (vol 1 ofc cause there be 3 vols oof)

Author/Artist: Hamada Kamome

Synopsis: 

The person who saved Sakutaro from a close brush with danger was none other than Kuji Shizuka, his co-worker-cum-rival and his old company’s top earner in the past. Even though Kuji’s detestable personality has remained unchanged in the eight years they were apart, he now surprisingly works as a translator and sports a longer hair-do to match his more mellowed out vibe.

I’m open to re-translation and can trade my vol. 1 cleans for the succeeding volumes. Please refer to my re-translations post to see if there already is a scan team re-translating this work in the same language you will be proposing.

Please don’t upload/post this on reading sites and don’t forget to support the author by buying the original goods if you can!

Spazz

Happy New Year, everyone!

Sorry for the late tumblr announcement yet again. Some of y'all might've already seen this floating around on the gsite, but I was trying to make some last minute changes before posting. I unfortunately had to let my pc rest in peace a few days ago, so I just decided to roll with it. 🙃

Anywho, I have many feelings but not enough words to accurately describe the devastating waterfall of tension that is Hamada Kamome’s Smoke Blue. First of all, have y’all seen how hot Kuji is??? LIKE, EXCUSE ME, IT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL TO BE THAT HOT IN LITERALLY EVERY FUCKING PANEL??? The way I was choosing a panel to insert here but ended up with all of them??? He had every single thing I wanted in a top-

HE’S A LONG-HAIRED, TURTLENECK WEARING, YES-I-DO-THE-COOKING-YES-I-DO-THE-CLEANING, INTELLECTUAL, SNARKY BUT 100% WHIPPED FOR HIS BEAU MOTHERFUCKER FOR GODDSAKES.

I would gladly smuggle drugs just so I could give my househusband Kuji the bougiest life he deserves. 

As for Azuma, the way I just had to go step away from the pc every few moments to cool myself down from his shenanigans. I won’t spoil any of them here. I want y’all to experience him for yourselves. Don’t let Kuji’s looks fool you, the person who has the reins on this relationship is actually this dumbass. 😂 Azuma too powerful. We’re all at his mercy ugh. But that’s exactly why I love Hamada Kamome’s recent bottoms. All the tops are pudding in the hands of their bottoms and all the bottoms take charge in and out of the bedroom. 🙈 Praise be.

[whiskeynwriting]

Birds of a Feather - Chapter Three: Intrigued

Nico x Female Reader

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Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) dirty talk, praise kink, innocence kink, age gap, mentions of emotional manipulation, mention(s) of body insecurity, male masturbation, voyeurism, heavy petting, size difference, tanning

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A/N: Halfway through this series! Only two more chapters to go!

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“Tape sixty-two, July sixth. Another fine morning; I’ve woken up early, thirty minutes before the alarm. The first thing on my mind… is helplessness. It’s taken over me, truly, my fondness for her.” 

He’s stroking the hair on his chin as he paces his room, the drapes open as he allows in the morning light. 

“She’s quite intriguing, much more than I’d originally expected her to be. She’s shrewd, too, especially so for a woman of her age. I’m eager to learn more, to explore her mind…” 

Since the night the two of you spoke, you’ve made him think. What is it that he feels for you? 

“There’s an attraction about her; we talked for quite some time - hours, even. How could that be?” 

He’s genuinely confused, but he is no fool. He knows the feelings that are stirring inside him. The same ones he felt when exploring your room, when seeing your intimate clothing, only stronger now. 

By now, he’s dressing to impress, and not just metaphorically. Every morning since the one after your talk, he’s come down fully dressed and ready for the day. Sometimes in simple turtlenecks, others in double-breasted jackets. You like those the best. 

“Good morning, sir.” It’s cheerful and kind, like you always are. 

Nico nods, smiling. “Good morning.” His eyes shine brightly while following you around the room. 

The way Nico holds himself, the way he enters a room, it’s captivating to you. He’s wearing a dark green turtleneck today, paired with black slacks and loafers the same color to match. His hair is done, too, combed and styled to the side. The facial hair he has along his jawline and cheeks, his chin and above his lip, it’s all neatly trimmed. He smells as clean as he usually does, with hints of bergamot today. You can smell him as he walks through the room, sitting at the counter across from you. Try as you might, you can’t help but stare. You do your best not to make it obvious, but you’re overtly fawning over him. He always looks so good, so poised and handsome. You sigh internally, ugh, baby. 

Nico’s struggling internally, but honestly, you’re no better than him. If anything, you’ve given in far more than him. Every time he speaks, it’s like you’re in a trance. He has you completely wrapped around his finger. As soon as he showed the tiniest bit of interest, you threw yourself right off that cliff. And he’s been sweet talking you, too, watching how incredibly enamored you’ve become. You’ll do anything to receive his praise, and he knows it. Almost gets off on it. 

“That’s quite flattering on you.” He says, eyeing you while drinking from his cup. 

You follow his gaze, glancing down. You’re wearing a white, long sleeve sweater, one that fits your form nicely. You complimented it with a skirt, one that ends just above your knee. This one is plaid, the pattern made of muted purples and pinks. 

Bashfully, you respond. “Thank you.”

He wonders, are you wearing that white bra underneath? He’s allowing his thoughts to wander now, he doesn’t care anymore. 

“I really like your hair.” He admits openly, looking up from his itinerary.

This makes you smile fully, your pretty teeth glimmering. But he doesn’t say anything more about it, just returns to his morning meal. The seemingly casual compliment makes your insides churn. You’re so happy he’s pleased with your appearance. 

The day is gloomy, a good time for cleaning. And napping, if you’re totally honest. But you’ll of course complete your chores before taking a midday rest. You’ll likely dust and polish the wood, organize his records while playing a few of them. Maybe he’ll sit while you work; he’s been doing that as of late. He just watches you, listens to the music, scotch in hand with a cigarette burning in the tray. 

“On my weekly schedule,” Comes his baritone voice, yanking you out of your thoughts. The two of you have been talking so much lately that you’ve become quite accustomed to his voice. You’ve actually felt yourself longing to hear it. It’s soothing, calming; sometimes it’s exciting. 

“Yes?”

“I have a soirée tomorrow evening. Are you planning your own event?”

“My own event?”

“I should request Daniel be here if the house is to be empty.”

“Oh, no, I won’t be going anywhere.” 

Nico frowns, you haven’t gone out at all since your night with Daniel three weeks ago. “Why not?”

At first, all you give him is a shrug. 

“Are you going to answer me?” He suddenly asks, his voice stern enough to make you look up. The authority in his tone surprises you, your lips parting while your eyes widen just a bit. 

“I just, I guess I’d rather stay here…” 

Huh, he never thought about it that way. You have all the freedom in the world, and just a few weeks ago, you were eager to explore it. But now you’d rather stay here? With him? In his home? 

“I’d like my clothes to be done today.” 

“Okay,” You nod, turning around to face him. “I can do that, sir.” He smirks.

As you expected, he sits down in the living room while you work. He notices that you move with much more purpose now, as you’ve become quite accustomed to his home. You know where everything is, how things should be done. 

What a perfect little doll, he thinks, pretty and smart, competent and reliable. 

While you organize his things, cleaning the furniture and your general surroundings, he thinks about your common interests. Your distaste for Shakespeare and how he was far too underrated in his time, yet entirely overrated in modern day. How interesting you find Wassily Kandinsky’s work to be; you too find it incredibly stimulating. The way you both admire Villanelle poetry, regardless of its many regulations throughout history. 

Almost randomly, you exit the room. Nico had looked down briefly to light another cigarette, head lifting when he sees you move. You return quickly though, standing in front of him and offering a small, white coffee cup. Without saying a word, Nico leans forward to take it, looking down into the mug. It’s an Americano with foam added to the top, just how he likes it. Even though he’s drinking scotch, you figured he’d appreciate it. 

“Gracias, muñeca.” Grinning, he reaches out, taking the cup on its little dish. (Thank you, doll)

A slight warmth creeps onto your face upon hearing the name. Though, with a quick smile, you turn, going back to your daily duties. When you return to your chores, you scan the cabinets holding his record cases. Flipping through a few of them, you end up pulling out one he’s repeated many times on end. You notice that he’ll repeat the same vinyl twice whenever he’s in a creative phase. 

The water from the outside rain taps on the glass, light rumbles of thunder heard overhead. Nothing intense, but loud enough to be soothing. Nico turns his head, basking in the calm atmosphere as the music begins to play. Again, he admires you, and can finally admit to himself that he’s fascinated by you. When he discovered your interest in literature and music, something changed inside him. It was truly a turning point for him. Instead of seeing you as some out of touch twenty year old, he now sees you as someone he could actually be interested in. He’d always liked how you looked, but now he also likes your mind. 

In his own head, Nico already owns you. You’re his employee and by all means, his little girl. You do whatever he says, whenever he says it, and you do it with a smile on your face. And he knows it’s not just because he pays you to, you do far more than your job entails for you. Every time you see him, you smile. Every time you speak to him, you’re sweet. Every time he compliments you, you become outwardly flustered, and every time he winks, it nearly sweeps you off your feet. Your reactions to him are more than obvious. And he likes seeing how you react to him emotionally, seeing it as a game he can play with his own little doll. Because at the end of the day, he knows he can make you happy, he knows he can make you sad, he can do whatever he wants. And you’ll always come back.

He’s thinking this while you move around the room, now dusting the shelves in front of him. You’re humming along to the record you’d put on. Little Bird, he’s grown to call you. 

“Should I get the top shelf today?” You ask, continuing to dust the lower shelves. “I did it last week.” You’re too short to reach, and you have to get a step ladder whenever you dust the highest shelf. It’s quite the chore and right now, you’re feeling lazy. You’d rather be done so you can go nap. 

Nico ponders this, about to shrug it off when he sees you bend forward to reach further back into one of the deeper shelves. Ever so slightly, your skirt rises, his eyes immediately lowering. The movement grants him a small peak of your upper thighs, your lower buttocks, and then… those white, cheeky panties. 

“Yes.” He finally says, knowing that you’re going to use a ladder to reach the highest shelf. He wonders, what would he be able to see with you up there? 

The small pout you give is visible even though you try to hide it. He finds that cute. 

“After this, I think I’ll take a nap.” You inform him, now setting up the ladder once you’ve come back. With a heavy sigh, you begin to climb. 

“Is the weather making you tired?” 

“Yes,” Grunting slightly as you reach the highest rung. “Thunderstorms always make me sleepy.” 

He wants to pay attention to what you’re saying, but right now, his body is leaning completely to the right, his mind on an entirely different plane. You’re reaching up, moving the duster back and forth as you clean. If he thought he was acting depraved the other day, it’s nothing compared to how he’s acting now. 

His eyes widen when you reach forward enough for him to see under the backside of your skirt, and it takes everything in him to hold back his moan. Low and behold, the white cotton panties you’re wearing really are the ones he saw those few weeks ago. He’s been thinking about them ever since. How innocent; he wants to strip you of them. He wonders, has anyone made you a woman yet? 

You’re humming along to the record you’d changed, and now that you’re so high up, the ceiling fan billows the edges of your skirt out. The fabric is flowing and he wonders, how are you not aware that your panties are showing? Do you know? Do you like that he can see? In his head he answers yes to both, now shifting in his seat. Is the scotch getting to him? He never drinks throughout the day like this. You make him feel adventurous. 

“Okay,” You say, snapping him away from his increasingly erotic thoughts. “I think I’ll take my break now.” 

“Bueno.” He replies, giving you a small nod. It’s a depressing thing, having you leave. He was enjoying this sense of peace. (Okay)

Once you put the ladder back in its place, just around the corner in a small closet, you return to the living room to stand before him. 

“Is there anything else you need from me, sir?”

Nico sighs, swirling the brown liquid languidly in his glass. He’s finished his Americano. 

“Yes.” Setting down his drink on the side table, he holds his dominant hand out to you. 

Naturally, you step closer, placing your hand in his. And when you do, his fingers curl slightly around you, his thumb landing on the top of your hand to stroke you gently. His skin is warm, and yours is soft, a simple kind of melody. He looks down, watching himself caress you before those warm eyes return to your own. 

“Thank you,” He says calmly, slowly. “For everything you do.”

Of all the things Nico has said while you’ve stayed in his home, this is definitely a first. He’s never expressed gratitude for you, not like this. For so long, you felt as though you were a burden to him, like he didn’t really need or even want you here. But now that he’s saying this, it’s honestly huge for you. The smile growing on your face tells him everything he needs to know, and before he can stop himself, he’s lifting your hand to his lips. He kisses you here, and you’ve now gone completely breathless. 

“Rest, little one.”

As if you could do that after he just kissed your hand. 

A smirk colors his beautiful lips when he glances up at you, gently releasing your hand. You take it into your other one, thumb touching the place his lips had met. And you’re smiling, nearly purring as you reminisce in the feeling. 

Following his words, though, you turn, wanting to be obedient for him. Trotting up the stairs, you become lost in your own whirlwind of thoughts. You’re so awe-struck by his appreciation and soft affection that you’d completely forgotten to do his laundry. So, on your way up to your room, you decide to finish the chore before laying in bed. 

You do your best to focus on the task at hand, but within the privacy of his walk-in wardrobe, you feel compelled to explore. He has everything in here, from shoes to scarves, swimsuits to vests. It’s easy to find a piece that’s become a favorite of yours, his signature black turtleneck. He has quite a few of them. And although he’s already caught you snooping, for some reason, you feel compelled to do it again. Besides, this is different. You’re not just listening in on his classes, you're smelling his clothes in his goddamn closet. You can’t help it, they’re just so soft and they smell so good; just like him in his freshest moments. And every piece is expensive, too, all the way down to his ties and boxers. It’s the first time you've touched them, his undergarments, at least with these thoughts on your mind. These you didn’t smell, of course; that would be unprofessional! Though, you think you’re past that. By now, you’re observing him far past the point of what you would call professional. 

Surely he wouldn’t notice if one of his turtlenecks went missing? Just one? No, no you can’t do that. It would be so wrong of you to do that. So then why do you take it? 

Your heart is racing inside your ribcage when you finally decide to leave, closing the door to his wardrobe quietly. A quick glance around his room tells you that you don’t have enough time to look through anything more, and you honestly shouldn’t even if you could. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You repeat this simple mantra to yourself, holding his sweater behind your back as you make your great escape. 

Tip-toeing down the hall to your room takes all but five seconds, but Nico hears you. He’s finished his scotch by now and contemplated going up to his study to read a new book, but when your noises cause him to look up, he decides to make his way to you. 

He comes up the stairs after you’ve closed your door, a few minutes after, actually. He decided to clean up after himself, putting his dishes in the sink so you don’t have to. By the time he makes it to the second floor, you’ve already changed into your comfy clothes and are snuggled up in bed. Your door is open, though, just barely cracked like it was that one night. He wonders, did you leave it that way? Is the doorknob broken? 

Genuinely, he wonders if you’re okay. When he heard your quick footsteps, he found it odd. So, taking a page out of his own book, he steps closer to your door and looks in. 

Your lights are off, your shades drawn, and under the ruffled pile of covers appears to be one small, tired ball of you. Just barely, your head peaks out above the covers, your eyes closed as you sleep. 

She looks adorable. 

It makes him smile, seeing you like this; he’s never seen you like this. You look so soft and sleepy, so peaceful while you dream. Suddenly though, you move, shifting ever so lightly. Your gentle shift makes him jump, eyes widening in fear of your own opening to see him standing there. But you don’t open your eyes, you just sigh, cuddling up to something you’re holding tightly in your small arms. It stands out to him now, the edges of the dark fabric sliding out from under the covers. He recognizes the material and squints, wondering where he’s seen it from. And then, his eyes widen again. 

That’s… there’s no way. There’s no way that’s mine. 

As quickly and as quietly as he can, he closes your door, taking in a deep breath. The fact that you’re cuddling his sweater while you sleep makes him feel something deep inside, an overwhelming emotion that makes his chest tense and his hands sweat. Sure, he’s become a little flirty, but has he really led you so far as to do this? You’re sweet with him, yes, but to be truly interested? That has not crossed his mind. But why else would you be sleeping with a piece of his clothing? Cuddling it in your arms, right by your face as it lays over your pillow. Maybe this has gone farther than he thought it would ever go; you fawn over him daily, but even behind closed doors, you’re falling for him. He identifies his first emotion as fear, he’s afraid of this. What will this lead to? The other part of him is comforted, knowing that you reciprocate his feelings, even if you aren’t aware that he now knows it. 

How cute, he finally decides, letting the happier part of him win. I’ll let her keep it. 

You avoid him at all costs, staying upstairs most of the time. He’s only here for a handful of hours, only doing what he’s required to. He used to linger, mainly because of you. But now, he’s eager to be done with his work. 

Nico saw you dart up the stairs when the doorbell rang, eyeing you. But instead of calling for you to come do your duty, he answers the door himself. He knows why you ran. 

“I can fire him, you know.” 

You jump with shock, spinning around. 

“What?”

Your door was entirely open this time, and he’s standing in the open entryway. 

“Daniel.”

“Oh, no. You don’t, I couldn’t -”

“He makes you uncomfortable,” Nico takes a step inside, just a little closer to you. His voice dips. “No?” 

It makes you swallow nervously, both the topic and him. Not so discreetly, his eyes dip down. You’re dressed in the outfit you’d worn earlier, the white turtleneck and plaid skirt. It covers your chest completely and still, he looks. But it’s only for a second. 

“Eres infeliz,” He says to you softly, stepping forward again. (You’re unhappy)

When he’s in your space, you look down at the floor, and he looks down at you. It’s cute, your shyness. No matter how much you’re around him, your timidness still exists. 

“Estoy bien, señor.” (I’m fine, sir)

Even if things between you and Daniel are awkward, you don’t want to be the reason he loses his job. Plus, you’re an adult, you should be professional about this. For the love of god, you didn’t even kiss. You can do this. 

“I’m okay,” You repeat, in English this time. 

Oddly enough, in this moment, he feels protective of you. It’s not often that he sees you so sad. His maid, his doll. My doll, he thinks. Usually so pretty and perfect. But her hair…

“Your hair is a mess,” He then mumbles, turning and gesturing to your bed. 

“Oh, I’m sorry…” You hadn’t noticed how disheveled it had become. 

“Esta bien,” His voice has dropped to a whisper as he sits atop your sheets. “Siéntate conmigo.” (It’s okay, sit with me)

Slowly, you do what he says. Unraveling internally, it occurs when you see him on your bed. He’s never done this before. What does he have in mind?

Still feeling a bit subconscious from his comment, you mutter shyly, “I usually try to look my best.” 

All he does is smile, giving you a single nod. “Turn that way.”

Once your back is facing him, Nico’s hands find your hair. Your mouth drops open slightly, feeling his fingers brush over your back and neck. One hand slides down your shoulder, the other sliding through your strands. 

“Tan bonita.” Nico’s voice is low, but soft. (So pretty)

His mocha-toned eyes roam your hair, and when glancing to his right, he notices a strand of ribbon closeby. Once he determines that he’s rid your hair of any tangles, he reaches up, now braiding the pieces delicately. 

“You, you know how to braid?” You ask, stuttering in surprise. Another compliment from him; it gets you every time. 

“Sí, sé cómo.” He answers simply, fingers trailing down as he continues. (Yes, I know how) 

How can a man so prestigious be so kind? At times, Nico was pompous, completely arrogant. But lately, you’ve become fond of his softer side, his sweeter side. Internally, you flutter. When he’s like this, it makes you feel so dainty and pretty. He hasn’t necessarily called you pretty, not specifically. He’s called your clothes pretty before, and your hair too, but never you. It doesn’t matter though, in your head, it translates all the same. 

In his mind, he’s playing with his doll. He’s making you nice for him. He always did love when you had a braid in. Your body language gives everything away, from your fiddling hands to the nibbles on your lower lip. They aren’t acts of distress, though, he’s quite sure of this. 

“Mi madre me enseñó.” Nico tells you softly, admiring the thought of his late mother. (My mother taught me)

Dropping the braid gently onto your back, you immediately reach around to take it in hand. Turning your head, you analyze his work. 

“Ella te enseñó bien.” (She taught you well)

For some reason, the way you say it comes off quite comforting. It makes him want to be held, not only the memory of his mother, but the kind praise you give him regarding her. 

You’re never quite sure of Nico’s signals, but one thing is for certain. Right now, he’s showing his fondness for you. 

After Daniel had left, the evening was nice. You spent most of it in your room after dinner had been served and you’d cleaned up the mess. A shower washed away the emotions of the day, and an early bedtime did you good. It allowed you to wake up this morning feeling refreshed, ready for the day ahead. 

Something you’ve included in your daily routine is greeting the pets in the morning. Both Fabian and Mateo seem to like it. Fabian has grown quite used to you, and will gently nibble your finger if you try to pet him through the cage. Daniel never taught you how to take him out and handle him. But that’s alright, you can interact with him in other ways. Mateo on the other hand roams the backyard garden as he pleases. Daniel did teach you how to handle him, informing you on what foods he likes best. Occasionally, you’ll sit in the garden beside him, bridging out a book and a bowl of spinach and raspberries. Which is what you find yourself doing now.

“You’re quite old, aren’t you?” Offering a berry, you question him. 

He takes it from your fingers, dropping it to the ground so he can eat it slowly. You learned through some light research that tortoises can live up to one hundred and fifty years, and that Mateo is likely around half a century old. He’s seen so much more than you have in this life. You wonder why he’s here if Nico doesn’t like taking care of him. Did he belong to the previous owners? If so, why didn’t they take him? 

“I will be leaving soon.” 

Nico steps into the backyard, adjusting his watch as he walks closer to you. You’re sitting out on the patio, Mateo still beside you.  

“I thought your event wasn’t until later this evening.” 

“Well, I have a few students attending my lecture later tonight. So, I will have to make my appearance brief.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Offering him a small frown, you sigh. You know how much he loves going to these parties. 

“Don’t be,” He shakes his head briefly. But when he looks up at you, he has a certain expression on his face. Pride. “The university is considering me.”

“Really?!”

“I believe it was the very one you had picked out.” He then winks. “Bien hecho.” (Well done)

“Thank you,” You’re so happy for him, he’s really needed this. Outside of his lessons and parties, he had no other use for his talents. A mind like his shouldn't simply go to waste. “I’m so excited for you.” 

Nico returns your words with a bright grin. He’s proud of himself but he’s proud of you, too. You’ve clearly been working hard for him, and it’s paying off for the both of you.

“While I am gone,” He then says to you, “Feel free to roam about the house. I am giving you the day off.”

“Oh, really? Why?”

“It’s a Friday.” Nico shrugs. “Enjoy an early start to your weekend.”

Then, he points at you, “That includes the pool. I’ve yet to see you use it.” 

“I could say the same about you.” Comes your response, a slight tease to your tone. 

Really, he brings it up because he knows he’ll have the possibility of seeing you. He hasn’t used the pool since your arrival because, well… it was the only thing he was self-conscious about. At least in front of beautiful women. His body. 

“Perhaps someday soon.” He offers with a grin slightly less happy than the one before. “I will be back tonight. Enjoy yourself, mi muñeca.” (My doll)

Once he’s gone, you sigh dreamily while looking up at the sky. His doll. And then, you look to your left. The pool is quite glamorous, and you’ve thought about using it once or twice before. You never knew if it would be professional or not to use it, to have him see you dressed like that. But if he’s offering, why not? Besides, he’ll be gone while you’re in the pool, anyway. 

You wait for him to leave before even thinking about changing. Your chores are completed for the day, so you really do have the afternoon to yourself. And after giving the rest of the bowl to Mateo, you wander inside to change. 

It feels strange, being alone in this house. You’ve never been alone here before. But honestly, it’s really starting to feel like home. There isn’t an uncomfortable sensation in your body; you roam the space happily and freely. 

When packing for your summer stay, you included three bathing suits. Each is a different color and style, but you immediately decide on the one that leaves little to the imagination. You only choose it because you want to tan. It’s a bright pink suit with low-rise bottoms, and a top that dips down your cleavage quite elegantly. The tan lines you get will form nicely, not that anyone beside yourself is going to see them. 

Grabbing a towel and choosing an outdoor chaise lounge, you make yourself comfortable in Nico’s backyard. You lay the towel down, bringing out a radio with you as well to listen to some soft tunes. You also grab a book Nico had recommended to you. Delta of Venus, you wonder what it’s about. He’d set it on your desk with a note, “For the Little Bird”. Just like he’d done with Ode to a Nightingale the night after your outing with Daniel.

“This is nice.” Exhaling with a smile, you apply the tanning lotion you’d found before laying down and closing your eyes. 

The music that comes on is calming, and you feel comfortable here. It’s quite hot out today, being that it’s the middle of the summer. The pool glimmers beside you, Nico’s glorious home standing behind you. Mateo has wandered off on his own, likely into the bushes of the garden that grows further out. You’ve yet to explore that part of your boss’ property. Maybe you could later today. 

While relaxing, you think of Nico; how could you not? What an amazing opportunity you’ve been granted to work with such a complex and talented man. At first, your relationship was strange - it still is. But the more you learn about him, the more enamored you become. The way he talks makes you swoon, the way he carries himself sometimes intimidates you. He’s heard you sing before and once called you a little bird. Even though he seemed to have said it with some sense of adoration, you’ve been too embarrassed to sing since then. You didn’t know he was listening. And when he said this all he did was smile, secretly assessing your reaction. Nico’s cool demeanor intrigues you; regardless of the circumstance, he is able to conduct himself with an impressive amount of restraint and grace. 

In all actually, the two of you intrigue each other. The fact that neither of you know it is humorous, truly. 

You continue to lounge, delighting in the warm rays of the sun, as well as the romantic world you’ve built up inside your head. You think of Nico’s scent, how his sweater smells when you hold it. And the best part is, you’ll always get to experience that smell. You can just toss that sweater in with the rest of his clothes and wash them, taking it back when they’re dried, and he’ll never know. 

Fresh Nico scent on demand, you giggle to yourself.

Once about an hour has gone by, you lift your left shoulder strap, taking a peak at the progress your skin has made. In truth, you already have noticeable lines, but it makes you sigh. Tanning was nice but no matter what you did, you couldn’t bring yourself to fancy the lines. Especially the ones on your shoulders. You had dresses and tops that went off the shoulder, and having tan lines made you not want to wear them. Maybe… maybe you could…

Even though you know you’re alone, you sit up to look around. Nico has a large, stone privacy fence lining the entirety of his property, reaching the height of seven feet. There were no surrounding houses that overlooked his own, and Nico had no security cameras. At least, not that you know of. And that knowledge gives you comfort, enough comfort to take your top off. 

“Well Mateo, I guess we’re pretty close now, huh?” You ask, glancing over when he reappears from the bushes. 

Honestly, this feels incredibly freeing. After a little while you’ll put your top on, but for now, you don’t have a care in the world. Which is strange, considering so much is happening behind you. 

Unbeknownst to you, Nico had come home early. When he said his appearance would be brief, he really meant brief. The event was more boring than he anticipated it to be, and he figured leaving before he originally planned to would give him even more time to prepare for his lecture. But he never intended on coming back to find… this. 

The second he walked into the living room, he saw you, immediately stopping in his tracks to stare. Were you really sitting half-naked by the pool? That wasn’t exactly what he meant by enjoy yourself, but he’s not really complaining. So many nights he’d pictured what you looked like beneath your sweaters and skirts, what your chest looks like when held in your lace bra. And now, he has a full view.

Reaching over, you pick up a book, the one Nico recommended to you. You assumed it was innocent, a simple gesture of kindness. He likes literature, and so do you. It was something friendly for him to do. But this book, it’s not what you expected. It’s… sexual, inherently so. And for the first time, this intimate feeling of excitement is associated with him. 

“Oh…” He sighs, continuing to watch you. He can see the book you’re reading, just barely able to tell from the cover. And he smiles, noticing the slight rub of your thighs along each other. He knew it would excite you. 

“God,” Nico huffs out a hot breath, watching you raise one hand. To get a better view, he gets closer to the window, making sure to stay out of your line of sight. If he angles himself to the left just right, he can see everything he wants to. 

The more you read, the more you think of him. Biting your lower lip, you lift your hand, brushing two fingers over your bare chest. They slide along your nipple, making you smile. But all too suddenly, shame takes over your brain, and you stop. You shouldn’t be doing this out in the open in Nico’s home. 

But Nico wants you to. 

As soon as he sees you touch yourself, he groans, mouth dropping open as he continues to watch. Seeing you play with yourself, even briefly, entices him greatly, so much so that he has to adjust himself. But that’s a lie, he does more than that. He palms himself, just for a moment, before releasing his erection of his brief grasp. He’ll stop, he won’t do anything more. But his feet don’t move - he can’t bring himself to. Licking his lower lip, he watches you timidly lift your hand once again. And that’s when his hand flies down to his pants. This is what he’s been needing, this is his release. 

“Touch yourself, pequeña,” He wishes he could say this to you, but whispering it through solid glass will have to do for now. “Do it for me.” (Little one)

Almost as if you do hear him, you grab yourself in hand. It’s a soft touch, cupping your left breast. Finally, his fingers find his zipper. He’s doing this. Here and now. 

Taken over by the feeling, you set the book down, now focusing on yourself. You don’t do this too often, but the entire circumstance is setting your skin on fire. Every element turns you on, the words in this book, the images they paint in your head, the risk of being caught or seen touching yourself… 

Nico’s hand finally grips himself, hissing at the touch. He hates himself for it but he can’t deny it any longer, not at all, not one little bit. He’s enamored with you. Beautiful, since the day he met you. Intelligent and cultured, the word interesting doesn’t even touch you. You’re more, so much more than that, and he wants you to be his. He wants to capture you, own you, consume you entirely, body and mind alike. He’ll touch you one day, feel the way you move beneath him, hear the way you sound around him. 

You don’t dare wander to the space between your thighs, but right now, you don’t really need to. Your nipples were always so sensitive, you’d wished past lovers were more attentive to them. Nico would be. 

He’s not usually rushed like this; when he’s alone, he likes to go slow. The ones that joined him in bed liked this, and he liked to do it by himself, too. But he knows he has to be quick, you could turn toward him at any second. He’s also not usually so crude and unrefined, always having lube on hand. But spitting into his palm will have to do. 

“Y-Yes,” Comes his stuttered moan, eyes trained on you. 

Your chest looks so soft to him, skin so smooth and shining under the sun. He wants to touch them, lick them, suck on them. Fuck.

The feeling rushing through him is something he’s truly never felt. He’s never done this, never had voyeuristic tendencies. But he loves watching you touch yourself, he loves how tender you are when you pinch your nipples, how your head moves back gently, enjoying the pleasure you’re bringing to yourself. And the fact that you could catch him excites him beyond reason. It makes him feel obsessive, possessive. Has anyone else ever seen you like this? Naked? 

Swallowing, he moves faster, tightening the hole his fingers and palm are creating. Leaning forward a bit, he places his free hand on the window, leaning on the pane. 

“Mierda,” He’s breathing heavily, looking down briefly at himself. (Shit)

He’s red, leaking every time his hand runs down his shaft. Slightly, he thrusts into his palm, running his thumb over his tip every now and then. It makes him shudder, the stimulation on his sensitive head. Ideally, he’d reach down with his other hand, cup and fondle his scrotum. But he doesn’t have that luxury right now, and that frustrates him slightly. Nico nibbles on the corners of his upper lip, watching your legs move against each other again. 

He wonders, would you be reactive? Would the slightest of touches make you wet? He imagines that you’d be submissive, because you always are. You’d let him move you, position you how he likes, do with you what he wants. You’d be so tight, too, warm and whining beneath him. God, he wishes he could hear you right now. To entice himself further, he imagines you making noise while you touch yourself in front of him. Because that’s exactly what you’re doing; whether you know it or not, you’re touching yourself in front of him. 

“Mi muñeca,” He mumbles to himself, “Mi bonita muñeca.” (My doll, my pretty doll)

And then he groans, watching you twist your nipple between two tiny fingers. With his hips stuttering, he cums, jaw dropping completely. Helplessly, he forces his head back, feeling the sensation of his orgasm wash over him. It’s intense, and he blames it on having denied himself release for so long. He also blames it on seeing your bare tits for the first time. 

His legs shake, embarrassingly so, limbs trembling slightly as his breaths stutter. He hadn’t thought about where he would cum, he honestly didn’t even know if he’d get there. Not because of his age but because of the possibility of this entire affair ending early. He could’ve been caught, but he wasn’t, at least not yet. 

Ropes of the white substance shoot onto the floor, some landing on the window, as well. He watches himself for a moment, stroking his length rapidly. But when his eyes dart back up to see you, you’re grabbing your tits with both hands, running your thumbs over them. 

“Fuck,” He quickly shakes his head. He just wants to bury his face between them.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm himself down. He should really clean this up before you decide to come in. As he tucks himself away, he really expects to feel shame, embarrassment. But to his surprise, he doesn’t. He’s also surprised to find out that even though he’d just gotten himself off, he still finds himself yearning for you. That attraction hasn’t gone away, the interest to watch you is still lingering. But if he has any chance of getting away with this, he has to clean himself up and act like nothing happened. 

When he goes to find the cleaning supplies, he’s perplexed to see the organization has changed. Of course, he hasn’t touched these cabinets and their contents in months, not since you moved in. And from what he can remember, he had everything he needed. But now, that goes tenfold. You’ve put everything in alphabetical order, placed specific items in specific drawers, labeled everything and made sure each product is easily accessible. And yet, your room is a pigsty. He doesn’t understand it. But he takes what he needs, and he goes off to clean up his cum. 

It’s an easy task, and by the time he’s done, you haven’t even moved. With a smirk, he wanders into the kitchen, retrieving a glass of scotch. He even walks upstairs to his study, grabbing a pack of cigarettes to smoke. Sitting in his signature seat, he lights his preferred method of smoke, taking a puff of the thin joint and breathing it right back into the air. He sits back, picking up his glass and placing his still-grinning lips on the rim. 

You’ve stopped touching yourself, and he wonders if you’ll come in soon. He still has an hour or two before his students arrive; he hopes he doesn’t have to disrupt you, hopes he doesn’t have to go out there and tell you to cover up before his guests make an appearance. But again, he still has ample time to enjoy this. 

Your skin is starting to feel burnt, so you decide it’s best to go in. But before you do, you decide to take a dip, just to say you did. You don’t bother putting your top on, why would you? You’re going in the water anyway.

Nico’s brows lift to the very top of his forehead when you stand, turning to fully face him. The sun must be shining so intensely on the glass that you’re not able to see him inside, sitting comfortably in his chair with the perfect view of you. You stroll languidly over to the edge of the in-ground pool, walking down the stairs with careful steps. And he just sighs, biting his full lower lip. Lifting a hand, he strokes the hair on his chin. What would it be like to be in that pool with you? Strangely, you’re out of the water before he can entertain that thought. 

The towel you brought out with you is easily wrapped around your torso, doing so after you put your top back on. You also grab the radio once your hands are dried off, deciding to come back for the book later. Inside, you feel calm, renewed, almost. You’ve never done anything like that before, and it was exhilarating to you. With a happy and flirty smile on your face, you walk through the sliding glass door and into your boss’ home. But when you turn around, you’re shocked to find him sitting quietly in the living room. So shocked in fact, that you almost call him Nico. 

“Sir,” It comes out flat, almost stern. “What, what are you, I thought you were, you’d be home later tonight.” 

Cigarette in hand, your boss shrugs. “Turns out the event was…uneventful.” 

You swallow, ears ringing with nerves. It’s like all you can hear is white noise while your body is trying to compute what’s going on. Immediately, you’re worried that he saw you. You’re heating up, but he’s acting cool. By your reaction, he can tell he got away with it, he didn’t get caught. He jerked off to the topless vision of you beside his pool, waiting for you to come in while sitting in the same room he just touched himself in. 

While you stand there, silent and unsure, Nico just stares. He’s smiling, too, a hint of amusement lingering in his expression. 

My little one, he thinks. A naïve thing.

“¿Qué pasa?” He asks you, brows furrowing. (What’s going on?)

“Nada.” You quickly answer while shaking your head. (Nothing)

Lord, does he love to see you flustered. 

“¿Te asuste?” (Did I scare you?)

“No, estoy bien.” You respond, pushing some of your hair back. (No, I’m okay)

“Why don’t you get dressed?” He then offers, an idea popping into his head. “I have something I want to show you.”

For a moment, you nibble on your lip.“Sí, señor.” (Yes, sir.)

“Have you explored the garden yet?” Nico asks, hands held behind his back. 

You’re strolling through it currently, walking side by side. The cobblestone walkway is quite cute, matching the dainty flowers surrounding it. The gardener does well with the upkeep of it all. 

“Unfortunately, no.” 

“Well, I’m glad I can take you for your first time.” Again, why does he have to phrase it like that?

Looking over at him, you smile, watching as he admires the lavishly intricate yard. The walkway leads to many different paths, but he seems intent on leading you to a specific place. He takes each turn with purpose, not pondering the direction for even a single moment. He truly does have something in mind. 

Not long into your walk you come across a wooden bench, one surrounded by light pink roses. It’s not very big, can maybe fit two people at best. You’ve come across small stone benches and flowing fountains throughout your small trek, so you don’t assume you’re going to sit until you hear what he says. 

“Mi muñeca,” His voice is soft. “siéntate.” (My doll, sit) 

Like the gentleman he is, he extends his hand, allowing you to lead the way. And you do, a joyful grin growing on your lips. Your surroundings are pretty, soothing, dusk just barely beginning to glimmer over the edge of the horizon. 

Nico follows behind you, sitting down once you’ve taken a place on the bench. You play with your sleeves briefly, pulling them down into your palms. The summer nights have grown cold, so after slipping on a casual, white dress, you decided on wearing a dark, teal cardigan, too. You’re also wearing hoops, medium-sized ones that show nicely since your hair is pulled back. 

When he sits beside you he sighs, casually looking up at the sky. While doing so he places his palm on your knee, gently rubbing. This is the most contact he’s made with your skin since knowing you, and it sends a wave of bumps across your limbs. You inhale a small gasp, one too tiny for him to notice. And you don’t want him to, you don’t want him to see that you’re nervous, because you don’t want him to read it wrong. You don’t want him to stop. 

“How would you define beauty, little bird?” He asks you, eyes still scanning the sky. 

“I, um…” It catches you off guard, most of his questions do. “I don’t know, I guess…”

You glance around the garden, truly pondering your answer. 

“I guess I consider the rare things beautiful.” 

“Really?” He returns, now shifting to look at you. 

“I think so.” You decide with a contented nod. 

“Would you like to know what I find pretty?” He then asks you, and when you look him in the eyes, he tilts his head. 

Your fingers fumble timidly, nervously, while you nod. Nico tuts at you. 

“Now, how can I know what you mean when I can’t hear what you say?” 

His expression… he almost gives you a fake pout. 

“Yes.” You say, not bothering to question his behavior. You never would. 

“I think poise, is beauty.” He answers firmly. “Elegance, grace, yet something that catches the eye. The way light dances off glass to create a multitude of colors, shining brightly in its own way. Wanting to be noticed but not willing to be obnoxious in doing so.”

His hand hasn’t moved from your knee, but his thumb has stopped swiping across your skin. He’s too focused to do that right now. 

“The sounds of nature, the sound of a melody, natural noises that provoke feeling within me.”

You’re listening to what he’s saying, every word of it. He looks off into the distance while he continues to speak, and you can’t tear your eyes away from him. 

“Nature can be loud, unbearable, but at times…peaceful. I find myself reminiscing with it, delighting in it. Beauty is elusive, changing, though I regret to admit it.” 

Now, he looks back to you. 

“I like things that are… untouched. Pure.” He then nods, finalizing his statement. “That is what is beautiful to me.” 

Another gulp slides down your throat, a small breath inhaled through your nose. But he really does you in with his next sentence. 

“You are quite a beautiful thing, you know that?” The hand on your knee squeezes lightly, just enough for you to notice. 

Your face is burning hot, your palms a bit sweaty as you cross your legs. And as you move, his hand adjusts, not once leaving your knee. In your readjustment you end up facing him a little more than before, licking your lip as you find your words.

“Thank you…” Your breathing picks up, your entranced orbs staring into his deep, chocolate eyes. 

“What you’re wearing today…” He then says, his voice tantalizingly raspy as his eyes wander down your form. “I quite like it.” 

You stay silent, unsure of what to say. And you feel like you can barely think, but one thought keeps coming into your head; you want him to touch you, you want to feel more than his hand on your knee. You want this to be real, even though you’re considering the possibility that each of these signals are being misinterpreted in your head. 

In the moment, images of you flash through his mind. He pictures you working obediently around his home, smiling kindly every morning since the first. He remembers how adorable you looked all cuddled up in your bed, clinging tightly to his sweater. He thinks of the way your body looked today, the way you touched yourself, the way your breasts swayed. Only a few weeks, a couple months, have led to this. It’s led to the insane urge to praise you, kiss you, touch you. 

“Lift your dress for me.” He suddenly says, and a pang of adrenaline shoots violently through your body. “I wonder if I’d like what’s underneath.”

His eyes have dropped to your lower half, and you can see when his tongue darts out to lick his lip. He’s acting much differently than before, and you find yourself wondering if you heard him correctly. Is this… is this really happening? Did he just ask you to lift your dress? 

While he waits, he stares, patient for your compliance. And after a moment, a long moment, you do comply. Slowly, your hands slide down your front, fingers curling over the edge of your dress once they get there. Nico’s hand is still on your knee, sliding up an inch or so when you start to lift your short, flowy gown. 

“All the way…” Nico whispers, his deep voice breaking. 

With your pulse pounding in your veins, you listen to him, lifting the dress until it’s around your waist. And your boss’ face goes slack once you do. 

“Oh…” He leans in, happy to see you wearing those white, cotton panties. He wonders, do you have any other pairs? Ones of different color or style? He doesn’t mind if the answer is no, he quite likes the look of these on you. 

Nico’s hand doesn’t move when he finally sees the area beneath your dress. You continue showing him, almost shamelessly, even though inside, you're burning up from your brazen act. And still, he just stares, only stares. 

“Do…” For some reason, you’re able to find your shy voice. “Do you want to touch, sir?” 

And after you say it you can’t breathe, you absolutely cannot fucking breathe. You don’t know how you worked up the nerve to ask him that but a delighted smile breaks out across his face after the fact. 

“Hm…” He pleasantly hums, hand sliding to your inner thigh. “I do.” 

Nico reaches forward, body leaning into you. You rest backward in your seat, watching as he moves. Softly, fully, he cups you. In the same motion his thumb sweeps gently over your covered clit, and he looks up to watch as you gasp. But you look away from him, timid, almost embarrassed. And he frowns at this, grabbing your face with his free hand. He’s not rough, but forceful enough to make you turn your head back to him.

“Look at me,” He softly demands, making you stare directly into his eyes. “You’re soft, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” Your lips part when you hear his comment, his dark brown eyes searching your own for something… more. And just like always, you give it to him; you do what you’re told. 

“I…” You feel compelled to say something, but he speaks first. 

“Nicolás is my name, little one.” After all these months, he’s finally introducing himself to you. “When no one else is around, I want you to call me Nicolás.”

The way he says his name makes you sigh, makes you throb. He hasn’t moved his hand a single inch, his palm basking in your warmth. 

“I’d like you to answer when spoken to, hermosa.” He says it kindly, but he won’t say it again. (beautiful)

“Yes, s…” He raises his eyebrows at you. “Nicolás…” 

“That’s good.” He praises, that gorgeous smile returning. Gosh, he’s so unbelievably handsome, and he’s so close to you. And he’s touching you. Will he kiss you?

Your mouth drops open as you release another, more passionate gasp as his fingers trace along your seam. They touch the edge of your panties lightly, his lips shifting curiously. He’s reveling in this, in your first true sexual encounter. If he thought he had you wrapped around his finger before, then he has no idea what position he’s in now. 

When he leans in, your heart nearly stops. He’s so close you can feel his breath, and your entire body tingles with excitement. It’s as if time stops, the moment now slowing down. It feels intimate, delicate, like a single breeze could ruin it. And to your dismay, this comes true. 

A noise vibrates throughout his home, loud and more than noticeable. In your quiet, focused moment, you squeal, your body jumping up above your seat. Nico sighs aggressively, more than agitated with this interruption. Alas, he has to stop his exploration with you. His students have come.

Chapter Four: Enticed

[iamvegorott]

Meeting A Magical Man Pt. 19

Part 1: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

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“We’re going to need to sit and talk about everything that just happened,” Chase said, moving his hands a lot as he spoke. 

“I can get the tea started.” A voice said from the couch. 

“That honestly sounds pretty good.” Chase sighed, glancing over at who spoke before doing a double-take at seeing a teenager he didn’t recognize there. Wait…actually he did. “Robbie?” 

“Holy shit.” Marvin blurted out his curse. “Holy shit!” He repeated as Henrik entered the room, holding his phone to his year. 

“I have been trying to call you again and-”

“Dark found us.” Marvin cut off Henrik. 

“He…holy shit.” Henrik lowered his phone. 

“Who’s Dark?” Robbie asked. “He sounds grossly edgy.” 

“He is.” Marvin huffed. 

“So…Robbie’s now a teenager?” Chase felt he could lie down and sleep for the rest of the day. Too much has happened, and there was still plenty more to do. 

“He grew overnight again, and now he is in some of my clothing,” Henrik explained. 

“And I would love to get clothes of my own,” Robbie added. “No offense, Dad, but I don’t want to wear oversized turtlenecks.” 

“I have never wanted to take a nap so badly in my life.” Marvin voiced Chase’s previous thoughts.

“So…is that a no to taking me shopping?” Robbie asked. 

“We will get more clothes in the morning. I want to see if you grow more overnight again before spending more money on that,” Henrik said. 

“That sucks,” Robbie whined and plopped over.  

“Well, at least he’s not yelling ‘I hate you’ and slamming doors,” Marvin said. Robbie flipped Marvin off from where he was pouting. “Oh! Oh, he so got his attitude from you, Hen.” 

“Robert, that is rude.” Henrik scolded as he went over and lowered Robbie’s hand. 

“He was being rude first.” Robbie protested, hand going right back up. 

“That does not mean you continue being rude.” Henrik lowered the hand again. 

"We can go get my Switch so Robbie can play on it while we talk," Chase suggested.

"Do you have the new Zelda game?" Robbie sat right back up.

"I do."

"Fuck, yeah!" 

"Robert, language!" Henrik said with a gasp.

"Ugh, sorry." Robbie held out the word. "Can I play with the Switch now?" 

“We’ll need to pop over to Marvin’s to get it out of my luggage,” Chase said. “Phantom was supposed to get our stuff there, right?” 

“Yep.” Marvin popped the ‘p’ harshly. 

“I mean, we don’t have to-”

“It’s fine. Let’s get the game thing for Robbie. Kid doesn’t need to hear all the boring adult shit.” Marvin sighed. “We’ll be just a second.” He said to Henrik before taking Chase’s hand again and sending them to his home. 

“I don’t know how many more magical jumps I can do today.” Chase weakly chuckled, he felt fine, but he hadn’t moved like this so many times in a day and didn’t know if it would affect him. 

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll take care of you if you’re feeling unwell~” Marvin wanted a bit of normalcy before they’d go back and have to have a serious conversation. 

“How would you do that?” Chase asked, some pink already on his face. 

“Oh, I could think of a few ways~” Marvin stepped in closer to Chase.

“Hold on, hold on.” A third voice cut the moment short. “Before you get too touchy, there is another person present.” Phantom was sitting on Marvin’s couch, closing a folder of papers.

“Weren’t you just supposed to drop things off and leave?” Marvin asked. 

“Let’s just say it took a little longer to pack up your things.” Phantom stood and went over to the two. 

“You didn’t pack. It’s all just everywhere,” Chase commented, gesturing around the messy room. 

“That’s what I’m telling Dark.” Phantom clarified, handing Marvin the folder. “I know you don’t like me because I’m with your ex.” 

“That’s not-”

“I’m stopping you there before you lie to me. I know that’s a big part of it, and I get the brain and heart are assholes with this thing. I had my fair share of denying my feelings with Jackie before I got slapped in the face with them when Jackie got hurt.” 

“Jackie got hurt?” Marvin’s shoulders went down. 

“Yeah, it happened like two months ago. He broke his arm really bad, and I…well I panicked. I don’t know much about healing magic, and Dark was already watching my ass since I was messing around a bunch, so I agreed to work with him if he made sure Jackie was good as new and continued making sure he’s safe.” Phantom had crossed his arms and lightly tapped his foot, clearly uncomfortable with admitting this. 

“That explains how you got involved with him.” Marvin sighed. 

“It’s all a lot more complicated than I can get into. But I need to go. Make sure you read all of that.” Phantom pointed at the folder again and sent himself away in the next blink. 

“That wasn’t suspicious,” Chase commented as he went to find his Switch.  

“We’ll add that to the list of mess to deal with.” Marvin made a face at how thick the folder was. “Why does Dark insist on making so many papers?” 

“I only experienced him for like five seconds, but he seems very-like-picky about things.” Chase found his Switch case and gave it a quick check to see if all his games were all in there. 

“Picky is an understatement.” 

“Apparently, part of his pickiness is Anti,” Chase said with a shrug, heading back to Marvin.

“Where did you hear that tea?” Marvin asked. 

“JJ said something about ‘Dark’s hand is on Anti’s ass when no one is looking’, and Anti got pissed about being called out.” 

“Keep that stuff in mind. I think we could use that to our advantage at some point if this-” Marvin wiggled the folder. “-isn’t going to give us all we need to get Dark off of our own asses.” 

“How would we do that?” Chase asked. 

“Sometimes you just have to wait for the right moment.” Marvin winked. “Now, back to Henrik.” He said as his warning before taking hold of Chase’s hand once more, and they were right back in Henrik’s living room. 

“When do I get to learn how to do that?” Robbie asked. 

“I do not think you can. You were created from magic, but that does not mean you can control it yourself.” Henrik said. 

“Boo.” Robbie pouted.

“Here, bud. I have all of my games in there. You can make your own profile and play with whatever.” Chase gave Robbie the Switch. 

“Thanks!” Robbie perked up and, without another word, got right to taking the console out and went to work playing. 

“Five or fifteen, they still like those phone games.” Marvin chuckled. 

“While he is now happy and busy, we have much to discuss, Marvin. What did Dark want?” Henrik asked, leading his way to the kitchen with Chase and Marvin following. 

“Let me make some tea, and we can let all the questions fly,” Marvin said, hoping that it would at least give him a little longer before having to talk about things he didn’t want to. 

Usually, he’d just run off, avoid conversations like this. But he can’t do that to Henrik. He can’t do that to Chase. He didn’t want to run from them and knew that with everything that was going to happen, they’d get involved in some way, and it was better to get it all out in the open. 

No matter how much Marvin hated it. 

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Tags: @brokentimewatch @bookwormscififan @d-structive @rainymae523 @ashtonisvibing