#being beat to death with bare hands also sucks but it sucks more for the person doing the beating

[moonlight-prose]

a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life

a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

word count: 3k+

pairing: old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.

He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.

He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.

Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.

Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.

He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?

Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.

It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.

Until you said his name.

Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.

You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.

After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.

His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.

He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.

"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.

The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.

Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.

Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.

His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.

He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.

So slick. So perfect.

Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"

Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."

His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.

If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.

When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.

"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.

His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.

He couldn't live without it.

"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.

The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.

He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.

Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.

"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."

You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."

The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.

"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Take care of what belongs to me."

There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.

The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.

Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.

"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."

He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.

"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.

Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.

You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.

"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."

His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum."

His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.

He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.

Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.

That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.

Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.

So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.

"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.

You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.

"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.

He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.

"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."

"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.

You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.

"It hurts-"

A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"

You shook your head. "B-But-"

"Thought you said it was good."

"It is."

"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.

He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.

But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.

The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.

He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.

You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.

How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?

"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."

The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.

Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.

"Oh-"

Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.

He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.

He could finally be the man you believed he was.

Not the animal they created.

"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.

A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.

Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."

His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.

You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.

"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."

The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.

"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."

You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."

Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.

The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.

[strawbrrycuteblog]

Hey, Elle! Can I request about sub!hoon with the mommy kink things please? Thank youuu!♡

Hi babes! And this request literally itched a spot in my brain.

Looking at sunghoon was a daily thing, he was mesmerizing. His nose and his eyebrows..his mouth..but nothing beat when he had a small choker on, making him look like a fucking slut.

He’d gone around all day at the house wearing it, and you were only growing more horny from it. You didn’t know why since it was just a necklace, but you liked it- no you loved it. His neck was perfect for a choker and maybe a leash- what the hell are you thinking.

But on this particular day you realized just how much sunghoon touched you, the grazed against your love handles and the light pressing against your ass, he kept on doing this all day until he noticed you staring off into space on the couch.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Hm?”

You looked over at him as he sat down, that damn choker was gonna be the death of you.

(And your pussy.)

“Yeah I’m just..where, and when did you get this pretty choker baby?”

He smiled, he fucking smiled. SMILED. He knew what he was doing to you, and he knew how you’d feel.

“The other day when I was shopping with sunoo…he thought it would look good..”

“He did, did he?”

Hoon nodded “he also thought you would like it..”

“And he’s not thinking wrong in the slightest.”

You casually straddled his lap, getting a closer look at the leather strap around his neck, the small diamond studs were dazzling on his pale skin. He tilted his head back for you, “you like it mommy?”

You took your eyes off his choker and looked at him, “should I show you how much I like it?”

He smirked before you pressed your lips against his. His tongue prodding at your lips feverishly, you accepted and parted your lips.

Once a few seconds of kissing turned into a slow steamy make out, you took his hands and pressed them into your boobs, grinding on him, making his dick get hard harder.

“M-mommy..”

“My baby boy looks so good in this leather huh…maybe even leather straps would be pretty?”

He bucked his hips up against you at the thought, groaning at the friction when you bit at his lip, “don’t be impatient now.”

Sunghoon liked being submissive to you. He liked to be your little pet. When you’d torture him to the extreme or tie him up then leave a vibrator on his penis, you’d do the worst. And he loved it.

“Mommy I wanna please you…saw what I did to you all day…”

“Yet you didn’t stop did you?”

“I..”

He stopped trying to defend himself when he felt your pointer finger rub over his nipple, his sensitive little nipple.

“Ah- mommy..”

“I’m sorry..”

You looked at his closed eyes “are you though? You didn’t seem sorry whenever I saw that wet patch on your pants baby.”

You eyes caught onto his choker again, grinding on his hard on with the warmth between your legs had his head falling back. His mouth opened to let an exasperated amount of air out from his mouth.

“And You’re this sensitive?” The pre cum seeping through the cloth of his sweats, his eyes met yours, “touch me mommy..”

“Mm’should I?”

He nodded impatiently his hands came up, gripping your breast lightly.

“Oh god..hoon..”

“I’ll be a good boy mommy, just please touch me..”

—

Sunghoons tongue flicked against your clit over and over again, kissing it and sucking it. You were sitting on his face while his hands pinched your nipple, “holy shit!”

He hummed against your pussy, making your toes curl and your hands pull at his locks.

“Gonna cum baby…”

You panted out while he sucked harder on your clit, his tongue prodding and intruding into your entrance. This being the breaking point to your orgasm while your hips squirmed and his hands held into your thighs pressing you down against his face until he could barely breath. Getting completely pussy drunk while his hips bucked up against nothing, wanting to be balls deep in your pussy right now.

After a minute of calming down you got up and sat back on his lap normally, leaning close and kissing him, the hot steamy and slow kiss made him more hard than he was.

You sucked on his tongue; getting the majority of your own juices swapped into your mouth. Hands wrapping around his nape to pull him closer until you let his tongue go with a pop.

“I need to be in you so bad mommy..it’s hurting..”

You smirked at his last beg before pulling down his sweats, he wasn’t wearing any boxers so you didn’t have to worry about that. His dick immediately popped out of the waistband and hit his abdomen, smearing pre cum on it. You wiped it up with your finger and licked it off.

“So sweet babe..”

His stomach churned and whirled at this..he liked seeing you in front of him so close to his penis.

You spat into your hand and reached down to pump his cock, getting it wet and easier to slide into yourself.

“Shit..your hands so soft..”

His hand snuck its way to your leaking folds, running his middle and ring finger through the slick that stuck onto your skin. His thumb pressed down on your nub, pushing the hood back and rubbing it vigorously.

Your head buried itself in his neck while your own hand pumped his dick, your other hand squeezing his soft balls, he mewled at the tight embrace you had on his cock.

“Mommy…t-too much..”

“Just take it.”

You had a firm tone.

His fingers plunged into your warm fuck hole, he felt your pussy clamping down on his fingers instantly.

“Yea hoon..”

“Just like that..”

He was close to cumming, his cock twitched in your hands a few times and you knew he was close.

“I..I’m gonna cum mommy…”

“Not yet..not yet….”

You hovered over his lap before he got the chance to release his seed. Sinking down onto him, his cock impaling you till his head fills you to the brim.

“Holy Shit..”

The snug, tight, warm and soft embrace your pussy had around his dick had his head spinning, his cock twitched again, you bounced on his lap, his veins rubbing against your gummy walls was enough for you to finish.

But you didn’t want to yet since it would be too soon, you both wanted this to continue, so you captured his lips onto yours, kissing him yet again to muffle the constant blabbers that fell from his mouth.

The sound of skin slapping filled the living room, the smell of sweat was in the air and for some reason it drew you in more.

His hands cupping your breast and his tongue flicking against your nipple, your hand pushed his head closer to your chest. He sucked the soft nub into his mouth, slobbering on it a tad bit while the other nub was pinched between his index and middle finger.

If y’all would have filmed this it would have of been an amateur porno.

“Baby…ngh, Shit im gonna cum..”

You tugged his head back by pulling his hair, his lidded eyes looked up at you and his mouth was glistening in the warm light with his spit. He looked like a kitten who’d gotten pulled away from drinking milk.

After a few minutes of him blabbering and moaning out words neither of you could understand.

You heard him groan and his warm seed spurt into you, usually you wouldn’t let him do this since you weren’t on birth control yet but fuck it felt so good to just feel the hot slimy liquid he could produce.

“Mommy! M’coming!”

He panted out while bucking up into your cunt, whining from how sensitive he was though. Your own cum made a white circle around his base, leaking down to his balls.

You fell against his chest, his hair still being pulled back while you nearly passed out on him.

A/n: hi okay for some reason this took forever to write but I’m happy with the results and I hope you are to anon because I love this ask!

[neetily]

hi neet!! I was wondering if u could write like a nsfw/fluff Whitney thingy!! (Idk if I should say Drabble or fic lol 😭) also I’m so glad ur back!!!!!!

— ✧ warnings: "first time" (but not really, you'll see), older whitney, lots of kissing, OOC whitney, premature ejaulation, lots of apologies, creampie, established relationship — ✧ word count: 2,362 — ✧ genre: smut (18+), fluff

— ✧ A/N: thank you so much for waiting patiently for me my sweet anon <3 this is such a nice way to return to writing after my brief unplanned break hehe, so i appreciate the opportunity to be soft about one of my favs!! i really hope you enjoy what i did for this one <3

In the quiet of the afternoon, tangled in a mess of limbs and light-hearted giggles, Whitney—contrary to popular belief— takes his time with you.

The sun kisses his skin tenderly, whispering sweet nothings down his blushing ears that he repeats for you in the form of gentle pecks trailed up your inner thigh, situated between your legs with his chin all sticky with the slick he's just tongue fucked out of you moments before. One orgasm down, he smiles to himself, nipping at your soft, sensitive skin once or twice on his travels just to have you gasping all cute for him like that in response.

"You’re not being fair..." you coo up at him, teeth on display from your wide smile and eyes in the shape of half moons; they match the light marks he's left around your hips, gripping on for dear life as he sucked all that sweet juice out of you. "Please, I can't wait much longer—"

Hush, he whispers down at you, a cheeky smirk tugging at his lips at the way you huff and pout so sweetly back at him, fuck. You're gonna be the death of him one day, he just knows it. Especially given how hard and fast his heart beats for you now in his idle temptation state, impatient little thing. Not that he doesn't understand you, though. His restlessness present in how his fingers twitch to touch you some more, to have his name tumbling out from your open lips so eagerly, lovingly, to remind him of just how pathetically in love he truly is with you.

And how he has so much to apologise for, time to catch up on now that he has you shaking under him. You mean to tell him he could have been making you squirm like this all that time? Trembling from under his barely there touch, knuckles grazing against your knees to gently prompt them into opening further— revealing his throbbing hard cock from between your squishy thighs; oh, he's completely soaked from just a little eating out.

Sorry, his fingers poke and prod against you, one hand securing your thigh in the air, the other gripping tight to the base of his cock, lest he's liable to blow a load right against your cunt right now from how utterly in love he is with you. Sorry, he mouths down at you upon guiding his tip to your hole, knowing well by now how much of a stretch he's about to have you endure, even if your furrowed brows and bitten lip give away exactly just how excited you are to finally be getting what you want. Sorry his eyes communicate when narrowing in an effort to focus, willing himself not to thrust completely inside in one fell swoop because he loves you, instead offering miniscule little humps forward, covering his cock in a coating of your slick to help ease himself in. Determined to show his difference, he finally mutters out a choked little "M'sorry..." and he's not quite sure what for.

Or, rather, there are too many things he's sorry for. Not in the least because he intends to fuck you right for the first time ever tonight, when he should have been treating you as softly as he does now all those years ago.

There's another apology resting at the tip of his tongue too, instead swallowed upon feeling his balls rest heavy against your ass, fully sheathed inside of your warm cunt— when's the last time he fucked you missionary? Has he, ever? Certainly not with as much thought as he does now, dripping with affection in the way he eyes you up and down from above, doting upon you with a shaking sigh, crawled up his chest without much difficulty at all.

"Tell me what you want," He rasps down at you, sure that his internal struggle is written all over his face for you, given how hard he has to tense his muscles in an effort not to pound you into next week like an old habit. "Anything." his tone is more begging than he means it to be, but he doesn't have the heart to correct himself. Not when it's more honest than he'll ever be; he's working on it.

And the way you peer up at him with those big doe eyes— oh, you've got no fucking idea just how difficult it is for him to show even a sliver of restraint around you, no matter how much he wants to just take care of you. Would it be so bad to snap his hips into you like he always does? Rail your shape into the sheets under you, make you piss and moan and sob on his cock like usual?

But of course, hearing your meek little squeak brings him back to reality, cock twitching hard against your tight squishy insides for attention as you avoid his almost pained gaze for a second or two. "I mean... I dunno, you've never really asked me that before..."

Ouch, said with such an awkward tone too. Y'know, it's true what they say... The truth does hurt, a sharp pang in his chest that twists and coils around his heat, squeezing out a hushed sigh from him again before another sorry slips past his tongue. To think he's never so much as asked you for what you even might enjoy is shameful, right?

Well, at least now he can make it up to you. Offer you the opportunity for the first time. Warming his cock inside of your cunt, fit to burst with how well she sucks him off, hole twitching around the base of his cock so well that's it's a little difficult to think properly, however;

"C'mon," He encourages, in part because he thinks he owes you the world, but also because he cannot last much longer either, absentmindedly wagging his cock against your insides with a half lidded gaze. "Fast? Slow? As hard as usual? Gimmie somethin' t'work with, s-" ah, wait a minute— "Babe."

His almost slut slip up seems to cause you to smile at least, and for that he's thankful, given that his muscles ache with the anxiety he's frozen with. And when you mumble a brief "... Slow, if that's okay?" he can't help but to mimic your joy.

"Sure, I can do that." He assures you, whatever princess wants, princess gets, right? At least, that's how he'd like to treat you from now on, moving forward with you as his equal, as opposed to under him. Wouldn't that be nice? And he intends to start right here, with you on the bed, looking as pretty as ever; except somehow he feels like he's looking at you for the first time again. Giddy excitement coaxing him into movement, dragging his hips back slowly as per your request, making you feel every veiny inch of his cock— but you can really feel it now, right? Your lips parted to let out the softest little sighs, his tongue poking against his cheek in concentration as he leans into the feeling of your walls trying desperately to keep him inside— a new feeling, and one he promptly decides he just adores. Making you feel his stretch all the way until it's just his tip left inside, waiting an extra second or two until you start to squirm around him for more, and then he's pushing back in just as slowly, excruciatingly so, even for him.

But it's nice, too, being able to see how intricately your expression changes as he fucks you full of cock. His own expression softening the more he pumps into you, settling into a nice and deep pace, a lazy fuck in and out that allows him to truly appreciate just how pretty you are when you're getting stuffed full, cooing down at you in an uncharacteristic display of softness when you reach out for him with grabby hands.

"C'mere—" he laughs breathlessly at you, dipping his neck down enough so that you can wrap you arms around him, allowing himself to lean over you with a little shuffle, completely encasing you under him with his cock stretching you out steadily, carefully offering you easy thrusts, the mundanity of it all causing him to swoon at how cutely you're acting. As if you've never been fucked before now— which he supposes is true, at least by him. "Feelin' good?" He asks, heaving out a fond moan at the way your cunt squeezes so snugly around him, getting off to his voice, are you? The unique hoarseness of it, borne out of how nice and tight you are; how he's never fucked you so purposefully before, and how he's never felt so good in his life.

And the little nod up at him paired with a muted uh-huh you let out just gets to him. Like you're so taken aback by such ordinary, vanilla fucking that it does a full circle back to kinky. Triggering something deep in his tummy, filling his throat with butterflies, prompting an inexplicable urge to spill out from his lips as he presses them against your own, catching himself off guard when he feels just how needy you are when returning his affections immediately. Opening up for him, letting his tongue roll against your own before closing the kiss almost as soon as it started.

Fuck, he's so fucking hard for you it almost hurts, cock aching inside of your too tight little cunt, teeth gritting with his jaw tense; he needs you so bad, even when buried balls deep in you, like he can't get enough of you.

One kiss would never be enough.

He shakes his head, removing as much hair out of his face to get a better view of just how ruined you already look, "S'this all it takes, huh?" He teases you, but the stupid smile he wears with his taunt is quickly wiped off his face, replaced with an opened mouthed moan at the way you wrap your arms around him some more, cunt squirming around his fat cock as he keeps that same steady pace of rocking you up and down the bed so slowly— he just has to fall into you, if only to shut you up before you can reprimand his cocky remarks.

He makes them with love, though. Mumbling affections against your tongue, hummed and dripped with saliva down your throat, making out with you as slowly as he fucks you, all heat and passion and God, he's fucking yours. In spite of appearances, and the past, he's yours. Completely and utterly smitten with the little whines and whimpers his lips suck from your tongue, pinching at one of your nipples extra softly to match his slow tempo, tip leaking copiously inside your cunt, some of dripping out and down your ass with his squelchy thrusts; so wet and gushy for him, fuck. He just wants to impress you, make you feel as loved as you deserve, kissing you as sensually as his thrusts beg him to, as your nails digging into his shoulders implore him to. Anything for you.

His hands grope at your tits for a while longer during steady smacks of lips, but he gets antsy with the way you allow him to explore your mouth without complain, how every moan he swallows from you has his body heating up more and more, like an actual virgin, instead of the well-seasoned fucker he knows he is. But, in truth, this is the first time he's taken his time with... Well, anyone, really. A bubble of emotions leaving him gasping for air, regrettably breaking the kiss as a pitchy whine of his name rings in his ears and he's treated to the sight of your scrunched up features pleading for more and fuck fuck fuck— he can't fucking stand to see you so utterly enthralled, wholly ruined by his slow thrusts, a tiny burst of speed knocking the wind out of you and him as old habits kick in and—

"S-sorry—" escapes him again, gritted out uncomfortably, forehead pressed against your own as he spills hot seed inside of your pretty little pussy, huffing and heaving gritty moans just inches away from your lips, eyes squeezed tightly shut at the stupidly good feeling washing over him; better than ever before, so fucking annoying.

That, and he thinks that if he died right now, that'd be the only thing to save him from the amount of embarrassment he's currently experiencing.

Not one for cumming accidentally, Whitney, who prides himself on getting you to cum at least a couple of times before he gives himself a chance, is currently shooting rope after rope inside of your messy cunt, painting it all sticky white with his love in spite of the fact that he hasn't even made you cream his cock by now.

It just felt that good. You, felt too good. Taking him so well, so pliant in his attempt to show devotion, letting him fuck the shape of himself against your insides without any complaint— not even a peep of sobbing.

He curses to himself a couple more times, stalling to gather enough courage to face you with a pout. "Sorry, sorry... Lemme jus'—" He babbles, motioning that he'd like to exit in an effort to do his due diligence as your partner and make you feel as good as you've made him feel tonight, even if you did nothing but lay there, God... He's so down bad it's stupid.

But you halt him, stop him in his tracks with a tight squeeze around his neck, effectively pinning him against you, tits squished under his heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath after the best orgasm of his life, and— and you scatter kisses across the top of his head.

"It's okay," You hush him, voice a little crackly from his fuck, he assumes. But it's music to his ears, an immediate balm to his anxious thoughts. "Wanna just lay here for a bit, please."

And he'd be a fool not to comply, right?

[simptiara]

Valentine's day with yandere! Chigiri Hyoma

class fight - Melanie Martinez

Her face was fucked up and my hands were bloody

We were in the playground, things were getting muddy

The teacher broke us up after I broke her

And my one true love called me a monster~~

TW: Chigiri being so ooc, stalking, Chigiri being slightly sadistic?, Chigiri beating someone up, use of abuse, eruption of anger, one sided crush, reader has feelings for other person, Chigiri likes to eliminate his opponents by beating them to death by fist, idk what to write anymore

*before bluelock, gn!reader goes to same school as him but different class and can put any character of your choice in (random name) space

•Imagine him waking up smiling ear to ear, filled with anticipation and excitement for the day ahead even though he stayed up late night thinking how'd he approach his crush.

•Giving you the chocolate he poured his heart in, specially made for you with all his love, the box is also carefully crafted with attention to detail.

•It's the atleast the easiest thing he could do for you, infact he would do anything for you, no matter the cost. His adoration for you knows no bounds, he hangs on your every word that he overheard, gazes at you with stars in his eyes, and would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked.

•Ever since when the life changing accident happened(his ACL) it was like a end of his reason to continue on living. He seems like don't really mind about that on the outside, keeping tough play but in the inside it was a pure mess. Plus those Wanima brothers were real irksome shits, on his already struggling self they are here to eat him with words.

•Thinking about the harsh words he heard from them, he was barely on verge of tears while finally managed to sit on the stairs where the students doesn't usually use. Sniffling, letting put silent frustrated huffs when a faint footsteps heard from his behind, him turning around to see your taken aback expression, probably from seeing someone like him in this state.

•"Must be tough. Shits happen right? But don't give up tho." awkwardly stating these words as you give him a stiff thumbs up, leaving him alone immediately. It left the one who was about to cry earlier in wonderstruck, somehow he found it cutesy that you suck at comforting people and it was apperant from your gesture towards him.

•That's how you draw his interest immediately, later then when he gets to know you were a new transfer student, running into you in school halls (but you don't even bat an single glance at him), soon it led him to get utterly devoted to you, the point where he couldn't get you out of his mind.

•Watching you silently from afar, driven even more head over heels for you, for your simple manner, unique characteristics. You stole his heart wholly in the meantime, now he just had to win yours.

•His crimson irises watched you walk into school as soon as you step in, he rushed to go after you. Being the first one to give you the chocolate along with confessing all the words he rehearsed last night, it's the day he has been longing since forever.

•But...someone already in front of you, in front of his love, well soon-to-be-his-love but who cares, seeing someone other with you is painful to his eyes. That person's face is beetroot red, hands shaking uncontrollably while holding the chocolate to you, avoiding from your eyes shyly which you softly chucked at, probably adoring their behavior he thought.

•In reality you were just in a awkward state, chuckled to not to seem so rude or stiff.

•"The fuck?" cursing under his breath, Chigiri almost crushed the box of chocolates in the grip that he wished to be around that person's throat.

•Who the fuck is that nobody to earn your attention on them so easily?

•You accepted the chocolate gracefully, tried to give them a appreciated smile when they seem to get even more shy, covering their face as ran away from you, leaving you stood dumbpounded after them.

•It bothered the pinkish-red haired individual this little that he just wanted to have a small talk with that person.

•The small talk he mean is, approach them in friendly manner and ask them if they have a minute to spare(make sure to ask it while no one's around if not, it'll be a trouble later). Then brought them to a corner outside the school where the smokers usually hang around since there is no CCTV while keeping the conversation normal to prevent them from suspecting things.

•No people in sight, perfect area. Perfect area to lung at them and beat that shit outta with his all might, turning them into bloody pulp, face fucked up too bad to can't even form a single word out.

•He wanted to be the one to confess his undying feelings for you, wanted to be the first to make you taste the chocolates that is full of his love, WANTED TO BE THE ONLY ONE FOR YOU.

•He could feel the satisfaction building inside of him to the sound of fist hitting flesh echoid through the empty alleyway, each contact with the bloody face made stomach churning disgusting slush noise.

•"Let's see if my love would spare you a glance in your disgusting pathetic state."

•Kicking them in the stomach last time, getting a weak grunt from them, he turned to take the chocolate he put far away to keep it clean from getting any dirty on it but the box got smudged by the blood on his hands anyway.

•Clicking his tongue, he headed back to school to clean himself a bit(if he's been seen like this, it'd make pretty bad fuss all over school). Since everybody in class right now, he wouldn't have to worry about running into someone right?

•So he decided to pass by your class to atleast hoping a little peek of you but right when he was about to turn the corner in the way of your class, he saw someone outside, also you leaving the class while your other classmates all hurried to doorway peeking behind you.

•Hiding himself, leaning back to the wall while hugging the box of chocolates, he took a deep breath, listening attentively to the other two teenagers, plus some hushed bickers from your other classmates.

•"Oh, (Random name)!" you voice held a light cheerful tone within can be heard and as soon as Chigiri recalled who it might be, his heart dropped straight down to his guts. The name of the one he overheard about you having a crush on them.

•Peeking from the corner to take a clear look of the situation, it only made his already unstable mind even more ruined. You looking at your crush in awe as they held out a massive bouquet of your (favourite flower or snacks idc), your friends and classmates has been shipping you two, are cheering and congrulating to the new couples that almost every person has eyes and ears knew the power couple potential between you two.

•"From the first day that you transfered here and i laid my eyes on you," your so-called crush starts to open their heart, heat rose up to your cheeks when Chigiri felt himself unconsciously moving on his own, just a moment ago he was behind the wall and now straddling on top of the teenager.

•In a switch of second, your eyes slightly widened upon seeing the ex-football prodigy appearing in front of you so suddenly while tossing the box he was carrying something in his arms to the floor. Not just that... with bloody knuckles and splattered few drops of red on his face... landing merciless punch on the (random name).

•Who would have believed if someone with such slim and frail looking like him could use such strength, with each landed punch, his body shook with determination and his eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed almost inhuman.

•"Is that the Chigiri Hyoma?", "The one who used to play football?" playful teasing bickers turned into shocked even more louder when the students from other classmates burst out their classes cause of the sudden commotion. "Is that a fight?", "Break them out!"

"Chigiri Hyoma...?" you mumbled out while processing the flash of events, still shocked from the thing just happened in front of you. Boys were quick to take the red-haired boy away from the bloody mess he made in just few seconds, leaving (random name) struggled to get up and breathe but seems like Chigiri had already broke their nose.

"Yes! It's me! The one and only love of your life!" while desperately tried to break free from the other boys holding him back, he spoke out shamelessly, trying jump into you and engulf you into his warm embrace but you took a few steps back out of horrification.

With knotted eyebrows twitching in disgust, you glared at him with tint of hateful in your lovely eyes that sent pang to his little heart, made him realize what he had done and even stopped struggling against the hold. You kept on the threathening glare while crouching down to the teenager he was just beating, gently embracing their head.

"Are you okay?" you talk softly with the one on the floor whilst putting their head on your lap in support, one hand holding their hand, other hand caressing their face.

"What a cold-blooded monster..." you bluntly said straight to his face cruelly, entirely shattering his little fragile heart. He felt like he is losing another reason to live again yet the frustration inside him grew even more darker.

"T-trouble with b-breathing..." hatchy breath left the person you holding gently, you frowned at them. Your soft gaze benevolenced the one in your hold as looked up once again to meet with crimson pink eyes,

Maybe this time he'll let you act whatever you want but soon you'll learn to love him... even if means using force on you.

i put isagi on the (random name) space bcz i love him???

posted on my yandere chigiri x malereader fanfic as a Valentine's special chapter (on wattpad) as well.

first time trying to write scenaria? oneshot? style idk whatever is, it's not something fit for me write😭😭😭(i hate it sm)

I APOLOGIZE FOR WRITING CHIGIRI SO OUT OF CHARACTERR🙏🙏🙏

[ghostssimp]

Can’t Kill A Ghost

Ugh, this sucks, but I'll leave it here. My motivation to write is at zero. There's none of it. Also I'm thinking about writing for other fandoms too, so I can take a little break from COD, because I have no motivation for it.

The mission you went on, got south, so you and Ghost had to run. Terrorists got the information of the two of you being there and you barely got your heads out. You got shot in your shoulder in the action. The two of you got to the nearest safehouse, which was an hour and a half distant away. Good thing Ghost found a motorbike and the two of you rushed away. The pain in your shoulder didn’t help, but you had to hold onto the muscular man, to be close to him as you escaped.

Soon, the two of you reached the safe house. It took a good 40 minutes, but you managed it. When Ghost got off the motorbike, his eyes met yours in a hint of worry. The pain in your shoulder made you feel weak as adrenaline wore out and you felt the pain more and more flowing through you.

He helped you down and, to your surprise, he took you in his arms. Here's the deal, you like your Lieutenant, you like him a lot and moments like this are fatal to you, because you think that there are just seconds away for you to blow up. There were a few times that he looked at you he showed something to you, a little feeling in his eyes that wanted to betray him and show emotion, but he always found an excuse and turned away. You're glad for that. You can't bond. You're not allowed. You can't lose anyone else in your life.

Ghost put you down on a couch and rushed to find first aid. You grimace at the pain and lean a little on your good shoulder. "You know Lt., I can walk. I'm shot in my shoulder, not my leg." He walked back getting everything he needed. "Shut up and take your shirt off." His eyes looked at the wound. "Don't. You can't lift up your arm. I'll cut the fabric." You look at him through your lashes.

"And what will I wear around?" He grumbles under his breath something that you didn't catch and already rips the shirt from your sleeve to your shoulder with, scissors.

"You'll walk around naked." His eyes didn't even look up at you, but were fixed on your wound. The good thing is that, because you didn't know how to react. There were a few minutes of silence as he started to patch you up and you hissed when he put alcohol on your wound.

"I don't think that's appropriate, Lieutenant." He was silent for some time. His breathing was steady and deep, making you concentrate on it instead of the pain and the needle that is now going through your skin. 

He finished and started to bandage you up. "Why do you never call me Ghost?" It took you by surprise, and you flinched at the question. "I uh, I'm keeping it professional." Lame excuse.

"Banshee, give me a proper answer." You glance at him. "Well, this is also a proper one." Your heart is beating. You never called him Ghost. You know his name is Simon Riley. You never said it out loud. It was always Lieutenant or Sir. He was finished and, finally, the two of you locked your eyes. "Thank you Sir." He's staring down at you. He leans over to you, just inches from your ear.

"Banshee. Y/N. Say my name, just once. I want to hear it." Your breath hitched. You've never seen him like this. You've never heard him talk like this. You didn't know how to react.

"I just... I can't sir."

"Tell me why then."

You pull back to look at him. His eyes looked ready for anything that you would say to him. It is full of emotions that you can't read. His hands dipped the couch beneath you as you sat between them. He dominated over you. It made you want to tell him everything. For a second there, you were hesitating.

"Soap is always bugging me. Why did I get called Banshee? Banshee is a mythological being that brings death. Lt. It screams and you know that death is coming. Everytime in my lifetime I sad the nane of a loved one person, they end up dead. I bring death anywhere I go, I am fucking death." His eyes shifted over you. You felt your heart pounding faster with each second you were this close to him.

I died a long time ago, baby. Say my name." his hand found place on your tight, gripping it and giving it a squeeze. Your stomach flipped and heat started to wash over you. His fingers sneaked around and found a way in your trousers. They pushed away panties and he dipped in.

"Say it. Y/N. Say it." a moan escaped your lips as he worked you over. "I can't sir."

He stopped and leaned over your ear, his mask touching your cheek as his raspy voice ringed over.

"You can't kill a ghost."

[huntunderironskies]

It might not be the type of game for everyone but there's something so fascinating about "daily lives of monsters" type games in Chronicles of Darkness for me. Something about the alienation from human society but the inevitable draw to having to deal with it.

Sure, you might have died last night, and there's a death god sitting on your shoulder who won't shut up but you still have to turn in the rent check tomorrow.

You thought that the shitty dollar store you worked at was sucking your life away, and it turns out not only is it literally doing that, you can now see the spirit baron embodying the store who's controlling it and helping make everyone miserable, and you could try and mobilize against him but it'd take an incredible amount of manpower and resources that you barely have, and you're so tired. Not to mention the power vacuum you'd create and the fact being too heavy-handed with one spirit court is going to potentially turn all the other ones against you and that spirit baron is a petty little bastard who'd probably start targeting your mortal loved ones just to get you to back off.

The trods need constant maintaining and somehow you got talked into being a Summer Courtier so it's your problem. So you go off into the Hedge and just hope you come back at a reasonable time because you sure as hell can't afford to miss a shift, or for that matter that you even return in the right timeline. The hobs are fine compared to the absolute dread each time you unlock a Hedgegate. But hey. Goblin Fruits are pretty filling and sometimes the Absinthal gives you free booze, so your grocery bill's gone down.

Drag yourself into a dead-end job and hide in the bathroom when your Scars act up. Memorize where the cameras are on the path there. Pray it doesn't take more than fifteen minutes because that's all you're legally allotted for the day. You can't have your boss coming in and seeing you like this. For one thing, he'd give you an infraction and you're already on your second strike, and for another you're about sixty percent sure that this company is a subsidiary for the Conspiracy that made you. You can't get fired, or caught.

I dunno! We do a lot of chest beating about how the personal horror aspects of being a monster, and to be fair that is fun, but for me there's something a lot more interesting to me about how being a monster can expose the innately monstrous aspects of modern human society. Probably not a coincidence all of the examples above are capitalism induced. Also this is a very messy off-the-cuff post so hopefully it makes sense.

[jjongswannabebae]

yandere!heeseung x insanely!obsessed(?)!fem!reader when you crave him (16+)

< implied smut, stockholm syndrome, "slut", thoughts of death(?), infatuation turned obsession, mentions of food and starvation, being held captive (i think that's all? I'm not quite sure about what warnings to add so lmk) >

Maybe you didn't hate being tied all bare, sat on the rubbled floors of some dirtied chamber that blond head had hauled you over at. You were scared which was given but also strangely attracted to this man.

His dark omnious aura, those stark eyes, that stoic expression he wore tirelessly were all so effortlessly attractive to you. You couldn't halt the increase of your heart rate everytime you heard his footsteps clack by the door and stop but to never enter.

A whole twenty four hours passed with the absence of food, water or him. He kidnapped you, you should be scared outright but you were so infatuated with this pale, pink lipped man. Oh how you wished to see him direly and run your coursed and dirtied fingers on his cold yet so soft skin.

You found yourself miserable in the situation.

It was inevitable, you'd take anything and everything that man would give you. Even if he'd take something as valuable as your life. Though living in seemed too extensive without this handsome man in your sight. Infatuation turned obsession, life would not be worth living without him.

You craved him so dearly.

That's probably what beckoned him to the dimly lit chamber. Your self degrading thoughts, thoughts of stripping him to skin, running your fingers down his stripped back, it was all too much for him. He couldn't believe what a wretched dazed slut you'd become for him.

He never prompted such arousing thoughts from you in the first place, he placed you danger by locking you up in darkness with no basic means of survival. Yet you had the audacity to fantasize about him all while he could read your damned, terrorized mind.

Your mind was vandalized—no, plagued—with thoughts of him.

So he decided to pay you a little visit.

You shook violently and if it weren't for the shackles bind to your ankles and wrists you'd free yourself and run to embrace this unknown man who looked so delicious with little to no light supporting his delicate features.

His eyes raked over your unclothed body. He walked forward with a dramatic pause infront of you, crouching down to your level.

"you desire for me?"

Nodding your head in agreement, a sting laps from his palm to you cheek and you revel in the pain as you show him a sultry smile.

"you, a mere mortal of all sorts," he mouths. He grips onto your hair, yanking you forth, "do you wish to know who i am for I've clouded your thoughts with me?"

"y-yes," you pant, shoving your face even closer to his, bumping into his forehead.

"heeseung, the one who'll slay you and suck you dry of life as you fantasize,"

"please," you struggle, "just take me, use me, kill me,"

He inhales sharply and shakes his head held down with an amusing chuckle, titling to make eye contact with your dancing eyes.

"very well," the rapid development as he closed the gap, hands all over the place, marking up what he desired. The eagerness pushed you past his taming tongue and fought relentlessly in a fury, fighting to beat the muscle sucked inbetween your lips.

What felt electrifying, a meaning to live, was broken away as he reached for your cheek, "i wait till my subjects are dead to feed of them since torturing innocent's doesnt sit right with me but you, you intrigue me and hence, you shall die by my hands– or more so my fangs,"

"a life without heeseung is not worth living for me. save me from this misery of a lifetime," you'd began addressing him by his name having lost your mind as the only that was provided since held captive was him.

You leaned forward again, capturing his lips in yours though it remained one sided, shoving yourself onto him so desperately. "you're far beyond return," he commented, pinning your hands behind you, admiring the maniac he'd produced with an unreachable goal, to have heeseung himself.

Long had passed as he let you use him, merely for him to use you– slay you for his long awaited meal. This was a bonus a him, not a win. But you didn't care.

He was amused with how you were so infatuated, so gone, so lost, so obsessed. So so in love with him, much beyond the border. He kissed you slower, but your pace never decreased, lapping at his mouth with an unattainable desire.

"bite me."

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hi Kat, I think this will be my first request for you ever! 😁

So for the Injury prompts I'm thinking number 6 with the dialogues 14 and 20.

Also could the reader be the one taking care of Levi after a pretty nasty expedition? Looking forward to your creation! ❤️

is it really?! :D i've also sucked at doing the actual scenario/hc requests in general so :'D listen school sucked and now im trying to pump out this fic and-

send me some injury prompts! :3

➼ prompt #6: staying the night in case they need your help, being asked to sleep on the bed instead of the couch/floor ➼ dialogue #14: "I... thought I lost you..." ➼ dialogue #20: "Don't even try to get up" || "Watch me!" *stumbles and falls on the ground*

✧ word count ➼ 800+ ✧ notes ➼ canonverse, levi being stubborn, reader and levi being awkward in their relationship, not proofread ✧ warnings: mentions of injury

In a rare turn of events, you found yourself walking an injured Levi back to his apartment instead of the other way around. You were used to losing comrades after expeditions. Being in the Scouts basically meant being sentenced to death. You knew this, yet you still joined, and let yourself get attached.

You were silent as you helped a limping Levi get home. He had a close call—too close—with a thunder spear and found himself thrown several yards through the forest. He was okay, but was definitely beat up and needed stitching in the few places that did get torn up due to the shrapnel from the spear.

Now that he had gotten the stitching done, he just found himself in a lot of pain. You helped him through the door and sat him down on the couch in his living room, the silence unbroken.

"Could you look at me?" Levi asked quietly.

You slowly turned towards him at looked at him with an unamused expression.

"What the hell is that look for?" he asked, sounding offended.

You averted your gaze again, unsure of what to say.

"You haven't said a word on our way here," he spoke, his tone growing bitter. "If you're going to just ignore me, then fuck off and leave."

There was an excessive amount of hostility in his voice.

You responded by suddenly pulling him into a gentle hug, taking extra care to not move him too much so that you didn't cause him any more pain. You buried your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry, I just..."

Levi raised his hand and put it on your back to pull you in.

"Just what?" he said softly.

"I...thought I lost you..."

You pulled back from him, your eyes glistening from the tears that were threatening to build up. You were devastated when you heard the explosion and saw him get thrown through the air. You held the sides of his face as your eyes glanced at the scratches that had assaulted his face.

You gently pressed your lips against his, focusing on the feeling of his lips pressing against yours to remind yourself that he was still there in front of you.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered.

You scoffed as you pulled away from him.

"You think I was going to leave your dumb ass on your own after you can barely walk home on your own?"

Your eyes softened as you saw a small pout form on his face at your comment.

"It's late," you said as you started to get up. "Let me grab you some stuff for the night so you can get settled in. Don't move."

"Tch," the pout on Levi's face quickly turned into a disapproving frown as he began to attempt to get up. "I'm not a fucking child."

"Don't even try to get up, Levi Ackermann," you scolded.

"Watch me," Levi grumbled as he pushed himself up before his ribcage screamed in pain and he ended up falling towards the ground.

You knew he was going to fall as soon as he got up, so you quickly ran over to catch him before he made contact with the floor and gently lowered him back onto the couch.

"For someone known to be Humanity's Strongest Soldier™, you sure do make stupid decisions sometimes."

Levi didn't respond and shot a glare in your direction.

"At this rate, I'm going to have to sleep in your room with you just to make sure you don't make any more dumb decisions."

He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Where else were you going to sleep?"

"Couch, probably."

"Like hell you are," Levi said with a scoff.

Although you and Levi had been seeing each other for a few weeks, you have yet to share a bed or even spend the night together. As a result, Levi even implying the act of sleeping in the same bed with you made your cheeks begin to heat up.

"Well," you began to speak as you tried to recover from the blush that was rapidly approaching on your face. "It seems more comfortable than the floor-"

"Are you serious?" Levi asked with an annoyed expression.

"About what?"

"Just get in bed with me, you fucking brat."

He averted his gaze and you noticed that his ears were slightly pink, which brought a subtle smile to your face.

"Don't make me say it again."

"Oh," you finally responded after a while after realizing that spending the night in Levi's bed was not a hypothetical and that he was actually asking you to.

"Tch," he said as he rolled his eyes. "You're such a pain in the ass."

"Says the one that got caught near a rogue thunder spear blast," you retorted.

"A fluke."

"Sure it was."

Levi frowned at you.

"I changed my mind. You're leaving."

He began to point at the door, but you quickly pulled him into another kiss, prompting him to lower his arm as he returned the gesture.

You pulled away and rested your forehead on his before whispering.

"Like hell I am."

[powderblueblood]

oh my god! can i request maybe steve in his cocky era with cocky reader and this prompt

‘I've dated enough narcissistically neurotic men to know that you are all just a pack of roving babies in search of a giant teat from which to suck the lifeblood out of me until I am a hollow shell.’

200 CIGARETTES SENTENCE PROMPTS!

steve's eyes roll back in his head with such a vigor that you're sure they'll dislocate, but that smile still sits on his pretty pink lips-- pinker, now, from the cold.

"and you've manged to find all of these so called 'men'... on the basketball team?"

"yeah, harrington!" you say, voice raising in volume and sarcasm as you shiver outside of the car. "all of them but you!"

"i bet i could have changed your mind," he says, leaning back against the spotless bumper.

"and i foolishly bet you wouldn't have driven into a snowbank, but here we are!"

you're prissing out, and you know you're prissing out but you're also shaking against the frigid cold and getting slush all over your satin shoes and you're missing out on your very first college party all because steve goddamn harrington insisted on driving you because his parents insisted on storming your house for new years eve drinks with your parents because they all insist on being friends.

not you and steve, though. no, no, no. your antagonism towards each other is well-treated and seasoned, like a good cast iron skillet that you'd love to hit him over the head with right now--

"honey, you're freezing." steve loves to do that-- call you honey like it'll make you soften in his grasp, like all the other girls. he's moving toward you, moving to remove his jacket.

"for god's sake, would you keep that on! if you don't, you'll freeze to death." a beat. "and i don't know how to talk to people who drive tow trucks."

"what makes you think i do?"

you scoff, a plume of breath following in an accusatory cloud. "so king steve can charm anyone but the common man?"

"thought that was your territory," he smirks, then pulls a mock pause, "oh, shit, wait! sorry! you're trying to keep what's left of your lifeblood unsucked, right? whatever that means..."

"means you're not getting anywhere near me, no matter how bad you want it."

steve stops short with about a foot of space between you. his expression, more devastating to your patience than devastatingly beautiful right now, still seems to engulf you a little. you hate him for having the kind of face that's hard to look away from.

"i still think i can change your mind." his voice has dropped to a just-for-us tone, and you hate yourself for feeling a little chill that isn't prompted by the cold. he's so sure of himself.

"and i still think you wouldn't be able to handle me if you could, harrington."

"yeah?"

"yeah. i'm not one of your little cheerleaders-- i'd blow your goddamn mind. i'd break your goddamn heart."

"sounds delightful."

you huff out a little laugh from between your glossed lips. unbeknownst to yourself, you've drawn a touch closer to steve in your barbed exchange.

"god, you're desperate."

steve, with all his towering hair and well-fitting clothes and intoxicating cologne, leans over you. "and you're looking hot tonight, you know that?"

there's a charge here; a number of cars you could've hailed down for help have already passed you. this exchange took precedence. his hands are shoved safely in his pockets. yours are bound under your arms, minding your body heat. but you inch ever closer still.

"let's make a deal," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

you try your damnedest not to get suckered into his dark caramel eyes as he looks at you, lids heavy. "a deal?"

"yeah," you say, reaching out to finger his fine cashmere scarf, "if you can use those legendary harrington wiles to get us a tow truck and get me to that party by midnight, i'll kiss you."

"yeah?" he murmurs, a little breathier now. his lips part, motioning to move for yours already.

you nod, eyes all a-glitter, and crane your neck back. deal's a deal.

and he nods too, dashing from your side to just about throw himself into the middle of the road, attempting to wave down the nearest available car. "little help! need a little help over here!"

look at that; all he needs is a little motivation, and all you need to do is sacrifice your satin shoes for the satisfaction of watching him fail.

[randomthefox]

Okay let's dispel this Goku is a bad dad because of the Cell fight once and for all

"Ohhh Goku made his 11 year old son fight Cell, ohhh he gave Cell a senzu bean ooohh Goku is such a bad dad" shut up you're wrong and we're gonna talk about it by reviewing the manga. No anime filler and no T4S parody bullshit, only the manga as written and drawn by Akira Toriyama.

First of all there are plenty of hints seeded during the Goku vs Cell fight that Gohan is being set up as being way more powerful than he even realizes.

Goku is so powerful that everyone else is freaking out, but Gohan isn't impressed. Gohan sincerely thinks his dad isn't going full strength, that he's just warming up, and doesn't understand why everyone else thinks it's such a big deal.

And during the fight Gohan has no trouble following along without comment, whereas everyone else is doing the typical peanut gallery thing of "WHOA SO FAST I CAN BARELY KEEP UP!"

What's crucial here also is Goku pretty definitively could not beat Cell. Goku is hopelessly outmatched, something Goku was even aware of BEFORE they started fighting. Goku has no ego when it comes to this kind of thing, he is always keenly aware of when he's stronger or not as strong as somebody else and has no sense of pride or shame about admitting that. He knows Cell is stronger than him, that he can't win.

So, Goku gives up much to everyones shock. And that's when he tags in Gohan. Gohan is surprised, everyone is surprised, but Goku's reasoning is pretty simple and to the point. Gohan is WAY more powerful than even he realizes, but Goku being devoid of ego knows just how much Gohan outclasses him. At this point it's just a matter of getting Gohan to believe in himself.

Gohan legit thought that they weren't even fighting "for real" and Goku has to point out to him that he was going full power, but Gohan is SO FAR BEYOND Goku at this point that Gohan couldn't even realize that. He loves and looks up to his dad so much that he can't see the power gap between them for what it is.

Goku is trying to encourage his son to do what he knows nobody else can. He's putting the weight of the world on an 11 year old boys shoulders and sending him into a life or death fight against a monster. And yes, that is unfair. And yes, that is extremely fucked up. But it's not like they have any other choice here. Goku CAN. NOT. BEAT. CELL. It's either Gohan beats him, or everybody dies. Goku is playing the bad hand that life has dealt them, and it sucks that those are the cards they have but denying the reality of that situation isn't going to change anything. Protecting the child is not the right play here, because at the end of the day he's dead whether Goku is right or wrong.

But thankfully, Goku is right. Goku is very very right. Gohan is unbelievably strong. Even BEFORE having his full power unleashed by rage, Gohan in just base Super Saiyan form is so powerful that he's an even match for Cell. Giving Cell the senzu bean didn't make a difference, because Cell was never for a single moment a physical danger for Gohan.

Anime filler skews peoples perception of SS1Gohan vs Cell. During the initial square off, Gohan does not fight back against Cell at all. He doesn't throw a single punch or kick or ki blast. He blocks and dodges and gets knocked around a bit, but Gohan does not do anything else. He essentially lets Cell show him what he's got, and in the end Gohan realizes Goku was right too. He realizes he can absolutely 100% defeat Cell. That Cell is not actually a threat to him. Cell is a bug compared to Gohan.

And realizing that reality is what scares Gohan, not the physical threat of Cell as a fighter. And that's what Goku's mistake was.

Goku thinks that Gohan being pushed up against the wall is all it takes to unleash the beast within, but once that happens and Gohan rages out they got this in the bag. He's seen that power first hand, and so have we. But this is a mistake, Goku doesn't understand his son as well as he thinks he does. And this is the crucial moment that the "Goku is a bad dad" crowd always misses. That Goku REALIZES that he HAS MADE A MISTAKE.

Again, putting all this on Gohan without even going over the plan with him WAS a mistake. But one mistake, a very understandable and relateable mistake that anyone, any parent, could make does not a bad dad make. Especially considering Goku realizes the error of his ways, and immediately admits to it upon doing so and acts to correct his mistake. He asks for a senzu bean to heal up so he can rush back into the fight with Cell, a fight he KNOWS HE CANNOT WIN. He's willing to throw himself to his death to protect his son, just like Piccolo, just like he's done before, because he realized he was mistaken. And he apologizes for it.

Luckily for everyone at the end of the day, Goku WAS right about Gohan. How he went about the plan was flawed, but Gohan did have that beast within. Ironically Cell did a much better job of bringing it out than Goku did. It really required a slow drip feed to get it done, because Gohan is working through quite a fall of self awareness of his own capabilities and reservation about those capabilities. He knows he HAS to snap, but he doesn't want to. So it takes quite a lot to get him over that hump, and Goku just wasn't able to get him there or realizing what it would take to get him there because he was blinded by his love for and belief in his son. Cell is just a monster who wants to amuse himself, so his unabashed cruelty does the trick.

Gohan was teetering on the edge. At this point ANYBODIES death would have pushed him over. Cell could have killed Mr Satan for all the difference it made. That's why I personally don't think 16's speech really made a single bit of difference, it was just the final stomp that was the straw that broke the camels back.

And that's that. Gohan has awoken. And god damn is Goku happy that he ended up being right and didn't accidentally get everyone killed.

Considering the circumstances, this seems understandable. Goku is relieved that he, his son, and everyone else, is NOT going to die after all. He was mistaken, he was humbled for that mistake, and now he is uplifted by his faith not being misplaced. This isn't "neener neener I was right you're welcome" this is "oh thank GOD this actually worked out."

And again, anime filler really warps peoples perception of how things play out from here. Because the fight with SSJ2 Gohan is a complete and total curb stomp. It's so ridiculously one sided I cannot even put it into words. SSJ2 Gohan is a god walking the earth.

This is pretty gratifying. "I'll turn your laughter into fear indeed."

and damn is he a smug little jerk about it. Gohan was afraid of what he would become if he snapped, and boy were those fears justified.

Now it's Gohan's mistake. He drags out the fight because he wants to make Cell suffer. And that pushes Cell to the point of blowing himself up along with the planet. This whole fight is just everybody showing their ass to be honest.

But Goku, mister worst anime dad, is willing to step up and take responsibility. He takes ownership of his mistake. He takes ownership of GOHAN'S mistake. He's willing to take the bullet and fix his own mess, sacrificing his life to save his son and the world. And again, scrub the Team 4 Star out of your brain: Goku has been wished back to life by the Dragon Balls once before. He CANNOT be wished back again. This is a legit sacrifice.

Wow what a bad dad amirite?

Goku sending Gohan in against Cell is not the smoking gun you think it is. If anything it's an example in the "Goku is a GOOD dad" column. He made a mistake, he is a human being. Human beings make mistakes. Parents make mistakes. A parent making one mistake doesn't make them a bad parent. Especially when he admits it was a mistake, and takes responsibility for it and corrects it.

Bonus: Chichi being devastated over Goku's death because she loves him and he was not a bad husband either.

[pokegalla]

Hello!

So. Since Killer have gotten a taste of his own medicine. I feel like it’s Lusts and reapers turn : )

(Mind you, I have no idea if you depict Reaper as a flirt since I usually see him depicted as flirty. If you don’t, feel free to replace him with Epic! And if you don’t see Epic as a flirt either then feel free to replace him with a sans of your choice! :) )

So, can I request Lust and Reaper (or Epic) with a crush who is hard to fluster but know how to fluster them perfectly?

Thank you! And have a nice day!

- 🐨

Lust fucking deserves it-

I completely agree.

Reaper I actually think he is flirty. (I suck at explaining and I don’t want to spoil the reason so I hope you get it with my headcanons.)

And excuse me Epic is another fucker who deserves it so BRING DAT ASS OVER HERE BOI-

Sans AU’s with a GN!Reader who flirts but not easily flustered (Crush to S/o. Pt2 technically)

Lust:

* This boi is a natural flirt. He knows how to get someone blushing in seconds with his lewdness. Well….until he met you. You barely reacted! Even to the filthiest or even sweetest flirts. His attention is hooked and you reeled him in when you managed to make him flustered as well! He HAS to know what makes you tick!

* This guy does his absolute best. Even goes above and beyond (my guy laying in a bed with a rose in his mouth….yeah he’s serious too). Every failure just fuels him to do more though he does whine to his brother or Grillby about how difficult you were. Unbeknownst to Lust, you ALSO whine to them about his advances.

* They knew just how much you cared for Lust but you didn’t want to admit his advances were working. You wanted to take him down a peg! He acts like he could make everyone flustered but your stubbornness refused to inflate his ego further.

* Though….he always did notice a slight blush across your face even as you acted emotionless. And the mischievous glint in your eyes when you flirted back. Secretly it made his soul beat faster. He called you out several times but you always managed to change the subject.

* Now what made one of you crack? His bro actually. Grillby and His brother wanted to get you two together. So they tried making a lot of ‘coincidences.’ Like a blind date! But you both were still just taking it as a friend date, his bro actually lost patience and blurted out that Lust loved you.

* At first he denied it, completely mortified but you surprised him by FINALLY gifting him a sight he wanted to see: your flustered face. You finally admit your feelings for him as well. Grillby sighs with relief as you two hold hands while his bro is obviously very proud of you two. Both of you were very happy together and like to surprise the other with gifts or dates. He learns more tips from you about flirting and still tries to top you (he still fails).

Reaper:

* I believe upon first meeting you, he’s not really a flirt. But luckily he has a crush on you! He’s a bit awkward at first and gets nervous when you don’t really react. But when you flirted back and made HIM blush, he was very surprised. At that point you were leaving him a blushing mess everywhere. He HAD to get you back. Or else you’ll be the one to kill the immortal being

* He researches through the mortal realm and he progressively gets better. So much better, that it’s actually hard to hide your flustered face. You managed to hide it out of sheer luck but this just gets him more determined. And when he found an amulet so his death touch wouldn’t effect you, HE. WENT. HAM. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you (Not without your permission of course)! It was more out of curiosity but to you, you just thought he was teasing you.

* You explain all this to Toriel and she laughs at how much you were freaking out. You crushed on the god of death but you had no idea how to tell him. And MAN his flirting caught you off guard. I mean he still has no clue how much he was affecting you so that’s why he was still going.

* He has seen you though. He’s not blind after all. He’s very observant and has seen your flushed cheeks. But he didn’t read into it too much. He didn’t want to get his hopes up (aw….).

* Eventually I feel that you probably would be the one to crack this time. Toriel has had enough of you two trying to dodge your true feelings. So she’d probably trap you two together until one of you confess (damn she tired of y’all bullshitting-). So you give in.

* Man you did NOT expect him to be so….suddenly energetic. Usually he’s a gloomy and tired guy, even his beloved coffee couldn’t make him this energetic as he was now. He dotes on you as your lover and will protect you at all costs. Though you both do love your flirty banters! It always ends in a tie!

Epic:

* A little shit. Specifically flirts with those who catch his fancy. Though his methods sometimes are….blunt. He will make you laugh, buy you a drink….and deadass pull out a condom like “Wanna smash-?” He flirts with you the most because he wants to see if his flirt game is good. Usually gags or jokes but when you made him flustered, he covered it up as a uno reverse card moment. But he can’t stop thinking about it.

* Eventually his flirting will get more serious. Even downright dirty. But without much of a response, he gets defeated momentarily, only saying that you were only making him stronger. You just laugh it off and flirt back making him defeated again.

* Alphys and Mettaton were the only ones who saw through your guise. Because you told them your little crush with the meme lord himself. You absolutely regretted flirting back as he literally DOES come back stronger. Sure you were winning battles but he’s soon to win the war!

* And he is VERY aware that he is winning. With the way you try to avoid him altogether or make excuses, it was only a matter of time you’d fall for his charms!

* Now how does all this end? Well he decided to try and activate his trump card: The Kabedon! He manages to find you and lock you in place. Now you couldn’t escape him this time. He showered you with praises and teasing. But….he didn’t expect you to pull out an Uno reverse card. He tried pulling out one….but he failed. How could he forget?! When he was distracted, you grab his jacket to pull him in for a kiss. Yup. You won after that. Epic admitted defeat. As a couple, you do all sorts of fun together and I can assure you that you both together are absolute menaces. (Bystanders should just run for the next bantering session of yours-)

[demoiselettes]

A kiss to steal

Pairing: Muichiro x reader

Category: fluff. Tooth-rotting fluff.

Warning(s)/note(s): fem! Reader

A/n: Muichiro and the reader are both 14 in this so it’s all light fluff and nothing steamy. Also i got this idea from this prompt generator! It was so cute i couldn’t resist *ugly sobbing*

“Teach me how to kiss.”

You very nearly impaled yourself on your sword. He seemed unimpressed by your near-death experience. His unfocused blue eyes remained glued to your own as you shakily sheathed back your sword in its scabbard. You must have mis-heard, right?

“Pardon?” Your voice came out shrill. You ran a hand through your hair to smooth it back down due to how disheveled it’d gotten from your training.

He sighed. “I asked you to teach me how to kiss. I’ve never kissed before.”

“And why the sudden interest?” You countered. Your eyes darted to anywhere but his face. “And also, what makes you think i know how to kiss?”

He shrugged, nonchalantly kicking away a pebble. “I’m curious to what it feels like. Besides, you’re pretty. Haven’t you had a lover before?”

Ah, now your mind was a jumble of thoughts fighting for dominance to be the one you ought to reflect on. You turned your head to the side and slid your sword into the belt that hung around your waist, doing your best to appear suave and calm. But you could feel his gaze on your fingers. He could see them shaking. And your heart was beating so harshly you were afraid it’d burst out of your ribcage.

“Not to appear rude, Tokito-san, but you’re-supposed to be helping me out with my swings..” you trailed off. He narrowed his eyes ever so lightly at you.

“But they are becoming less and less precise. At this rate you’ll behead yourself.”

He was right, of course, but that didn’t make his statement any more embarrassing to you. It’s been hours since you’ve began training and your arm was just about ready to fall off. At this point you were just delaying what was seemingly becoming the inevitable.

You..didn’t mind kissing him. You’d always thought he was kind of cute. But he was a hashira and you were a Kanoto, surely he wouldn’t have ever taken an interest in you. And it’s not like being a Demon Slayer gave you much leeway to be in a relationship. Besides, your mentor had always told you not to rush in finding a partner.

You are still so young, she’d said. You have a duty to complete.

And the most disturbing part, was figuring out why he suddenly wanted to kiss you. Was he interested in another girl? The mist pillar wouldn’t simply use you to try and woo someone else, would he?

Your cheeks were suddenly being pulled on and you whined, trying to swat away his hands. « Ow! Shtop-«  you grumbled. « Tokito-shan! »

You could have been imagining it, but there was the slightest ghost of a smile on his face. « We made a deal. I’d help you out with your swings and you’d help me out with something. You have to make good on your promise, »

Oh, so you can barely remember my name but you can remember that? If only you could say it outloud.

You resigned yourself to your fate with a strong exhale. « But i don’t know how to kiss. I’ve never kissed before, » the words came out hot and fast. Your cheeks were burnt.

« Oh, » for the first time since you’ve met him, he seemed truly stumped. « Oh.. okay. » his hands fell to his sides and he settled for simply staring you down. It was unnerving to be his main focus of attention, his gaze was soft but also..so intense. You felt like he could see through you. But goodness, he had such pretty eyes. They were like glass.

Then he was leaning towards you and you felt heat creep up your cheeks again. You sucked in a breath and screwed your eyes shut, your shoulders tensed, your fists instinctively clenched. Then there was the faintest smell of daikon, and chapped lips were pressed against your cheek. Your eyes snapped open and for a moment you forgot you how to breathe. He didn’t pull away immediately either, he let his lips linger on your skin for seconds that might as well have been hours and then did he pulled away, just the slightest but he was still pretty much in your face. He wouldn’t stop staring at you.

« I think this is good for a start. » he announced. His voice dripped with undetected smugness. Which you had the chance to detect.

Just when you thought you’d pass out because gosh darn it you were beginning to feel light-headed, a loud thud resonated from behind you and both Muichiro and you looked back to see the love hashira on the ground.

[magicalmysteries777]

The Bloody-Handed and The Anguish Of Loving Them - Chapter 7.

Summary: Almost a year has passed since Eddie Munson died and it feels like the only person that isn't moving on is Steve.

After spending the night studying a Dungeons and Dragons handbook, Steve is convinced he's figured out how to bring Eddie back. Not only that, but defeat Vecna once and for all too. Now he just has to prove it.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Masterlist: Here.

Chapter: 7 of 10.

Chapter WC: 3.4k.

CW: Swearing, implied drinking, heavy angst, temporary character death, and graphic depictions of blood and injuries.

This story can also be found on AO3 here.

Taglist: @ohmeg 🖤

March 25th, 1987.

“Robin? Can you hear me?!” Steve asked frantically, his eyes once again brimming with tears as he looked down at her pale, damp face.

“It hurts,” she answered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“It’s okay, I’m here. Where does it hurt? Robin, talk to me.”

“I thought it was just a bruise,” she told him weakly, pointing to her stomach. He lifted her shirt to reveal a large, deep purple bruise forming near her belly button.

“You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”

“Steve, that’s internal-” Dustin began, dropping to their level.

“I know what it is. Would somebody please come up with a fucking plan?!”

Robin looked up at Steve, a soft smile spreading across her face. He met her gaze, the same smile reciprocated across his tear-stained cheeks as years of memories flooded his mind.

Countless hours of gentle bullying behind the counter at Scoops. Robin waiting for him to inevitably get rejected again so she could add another tally to her ‘you rule/you suck’ chart with a smirk on her face. The terror in her eyes the first time the Russians beat him whilst they were being held captive together. Robin coming out to him on the bathroom floor of Starcourt Mall while they waited for the drugs to wear off. All the sleepovers at Steve’s, where they’d binge horror movies and eat three pints of ice cream while they both vented about their failing love lives. The twenty-minute apology he’d received after she dented the bumper on his car when he tried to teach her how to drive. How she’d always been his rock whenever the flashbacks came, holding him until he felt calm and safe again. How he’d done the same for her. Popcorn fights and bad movies on the slow shifts at Family Video. The way she refused to take no for an answer when he’d tried to push her away, dragging his sorry ass out of bed instead and forcing him to get his shit together.

“Steve?” Robin whispered, her voice trembling just as much as her hands. “Tell Vickie I love her and that I-I’m sorry.”

“You can tell her yourself when we get out of here.”

“There’s a necklace. Second drawer of my d-dresser,” she instructed, choking on her words. “For our anniversary next month. Give it to her.”

“Nancy, do something!” he yelled, not daring to look away from Robin for a second.

She hurriedly flipped through pages of the handbook, snapping her response without looking up. “I’m trying, I can’t find the spell!”

A stifled sob from Dustin caused Steve to look up instinctively, the sight in front of him so heartbreaking that it would turn out to be ingrained in his mind forever.

El clutching Mike’s hand so hard that her knuckles were starting to turn white. Mike staring at Robin on the floor, horrified, his skin even paler than usual. Will, Lucas, and Erica all huddling around the contents of their backpacks, desperately searching for something that could help them and throwing anything that couldn’t over their shoulders without a second thought. Nancy scouring the handbook for a single scrap of helpful information, her eyes puffing and her cheeks wet. Jonathan next to her, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Then there was Dustin with his thousand-yard stare and heaving chest, his fingers wrapped tightly around the guitar pick necklace that Wayne Munson had returned to him many months ago.

Steve had a sneaking suspicion that whoever Dustin could see dying on the floor in front of him, it wasn’t Robin.

The grip on Steve’s hand loosened and his heart dropped. Robin met his gaze again, still smiling softly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For being my best friend.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” he answered, his lip quivering.

“I love you, Dingus. Platonically, obviously.”

Steve let out a chuckle, quickly wiping away the fresh set of tears welling in his eyes. “I love you too. Platonically.”

“You still suck, though.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You-” she began, choking on her words again before going quiet.

“Robin? Robin, talk to me,” he urged, shaking her slightly. “Robin?!”

Lightening cracked behind them causing all heads to spin, the lit-up red sky revealing the silhouette of a still lurking Kas.

“Steve, you need to go,” Jonathan urged, dropping to his knees beside them.

“Are you out of your mind?! I’m not leaving her.”

“You have to.”

“I’m not-”

“Steve!”

He fell silent, reluctantly meeting Jonathan’s eye. No more words were ushered between the two of them, only an understanding look and a slow nod that Steve could have sworn meant “It’s okay, she’s not going anywhere. I promise.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between Robin and Kas, his internal monologue screaming at him to make a decision. Reluctantly, he released his grip on Robin’s hand and stood, allowing Nancy to swoop in and take over.

She held her free hand over Robin’s stomach and began to recite Latin from the book clutched tightly in the other. Steve backed away and turned his attention to back Kas, El four steps behind him.

-

Steve charged toward Kas like a man on a mission, the adrenaline coursing through his veins making his almost certainly infected bat bites feel like nothing more than a mere cat scratch.

“You motherfucker!” he roared, spit flying from his mouth alongside his words. He wasn’t sure if El was managing to keep up with him, and honestly, he didn’t care. The shit-eating grin spreading across Kas’s face and the rapidly increasing thumps of his heartbeat in his ear were the only things he could focus on. “Come on, Munson. You were all fucking talk back at the trailer park.”

As the distance between them narrowed to a close, still not a single word had passed Kas’s lips. Only when Steve approached the final twenty feet separating them did Kas have any reaction at all, darting into the nearby trees with a maniacal cackle.

Steve quickly followed suit, weaving between the trunks of the towering trees whilst hoping and praying that it was Kas’s laugh he was following and not one of the many taunting echoes.

“I’ve got him!” yelled El. Steve spun on the spot and ran towards her voice as quickly as his legs would carry him. A little further into the woods Steve’s eyes finally landed on El, her arm outstretched toward a particularly wide oak tree and a single drop of blood trickling from her nose as the vines finished wrapping themselves tightly around Kas.

“You’re amazing, kid. Not sure if I ever told you that,” Steve told her, trying his hardest not to let the outburst brewing within him spill out in front of her. “Now go help the others.”

“But what if he gets out?”

“I’ll deal with it if he does, don’t you worry about that. El, I need you to go help Nancy,” he urged, taking her gently by the shoulders. “Please, El. I can’t lose her, okay? I just can’t. Please. If she… If she dies, you can bring her back, right? Like you did with Max?”

She stared back at him for a moment before nodding silently and set off back through the woods, leaving the two men alone in a tension-filled silence.

-

Surprisingly, it was Kas who broke the silence. “Spit it out, Stevie. You’re wearing the ground down there.”

“Spit it out? Spit it out?! That’s all you’ve got to say?” Steve fumed, glaring at Kas. “Dustin almost fucking died, man. Erica too. Robin could be dead for all I know.”

“And why exactly should I care?”

“Are you kidding me?! Eddie-”

Kas bared his fangs and let out a loud hiss in Steve’s direction. “When are you going to get it into your thick head? I’m not Eddie.”

“You don’t have to do this. Any of this. We’ve figured it out. Well, it was mainly Will - the kid’s a fucking Dungeons and Dragons genius. We can make you human again, we found a spell.”

Kas stared at Steve for a few seconds, a dumb-founded expression plastered on his face, before letting out a loud laugh. “Why would I want to do that?”

It took everything in Steve not to take Kas by the shoulders and attempt to physically shake some sense into him; instead, he just stood there, his mouth agape as he tried to find the right string of words to properly convey the amount of sheer stupidity he was hearing.

“Why would I want to go back to being what I was before, huh? Eddie was a pathetic, cowardly, stupid, high-school flunking, drug-dealing freak. Look at me now. I’m stronger, braver, faster. I’ve never felt so powerful.”

Steve’s words came out a lot more sheepish than he’d intended. “You were never a coward. Or a freak.”

“Yes he was and you know it. Principal Higgins knew it, Chief Hopper knew it, Jason and his little cronies all knew it, Al Munson, father-of-the-fucking-year, knew it. Hell, the whole fucking town knew it. The only time the whole of Hawkins could mutually agree on something was when they all decided that Eddie Munson was a satanic, murdering, freak.”

Kas thrashed against the rough bark of the oak behind him as he attempted to free himself from the grip of the vines. Steve stayed silent and looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since they’d parted ways at his trailer a year ago.

His curls were still wild and bushy as ever and his eyes, albeit more red than they used to be, were still the same. Big and striking. Sure he had fangs now, but the man before was still Eddie, whether he believed it or not.

“They didn’t get to know you.”

“Oh, and you did?” he asked. “We knew each other for what? A week?”

“I never stopped getting to you know!” Steve snapped. He could feel all his repressed emotions from the last year rapidly bubbling to the surface, threatening to boil over.

“Bullshit.”

“Everything you just said was bullshit. Every word of it. You say I don’t know you but I think I know you better than you know yourself, Eds. You saved Dustin and distracted the bats to buy us more time knowing full well that they could kill you - those aren’t the actions of a coward. You say everyone thinks you’re stupid but they don’t know that you’ve pretty much got the entirety of ‘The Fellowship of the Ring’ memorised and can discuss the intricacies of Elven politics for over half an hour at a time,” he rambled, allowing the pot containing his bubbling emotions to spill.

Kas stayed silent, looking at Steve in a way he’d never done before.

“I know that it was your dad who taught you how to play guitar but it was your mom who made you fall in love with music - she’d play Chicago Blues on the record player. I know she died when you were six years old and left you to deal with all your dad’s bullshit by yourself. I know you lost her records in the fire when your dad’s house burnt down, the only thing that survived was the guitar you played Master of Puppets on last year. I know your dad got in trouble with the cops and went on the run, and that’s how you ended up living with Wayne. I know that Wayne thinks you’re the best goddamn thing that ever happened to him. I know that he cries himself to sleep nearly every night because he misses you. I know that Dustin has nightmares and flashbacks of you dying and every time he does he sinks a little bit further into the same shell that you got coaxed out of, the same as you did for Gareth.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he tried to navigate all the sadness, grief, anger, love, and determination he was feeling. He’d kept it all trapped inside for so long that now it was out, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it back in.

“Did you really think that the stories of an old man were going to be enough to convince me to give all of this up?” Kas asked, his voice cold and his eyes dark. “Standing there, bold as brass, acting like you give two fucks about me as though you didn’t leave me to rot in the fucking ground.”

“Do you think I wanted to leave you there?!” Steve yelled, his voice cracking. “Do you think I enjoyed digging that hole and burying you? Because I didn’t. It fucked me up, Eds. I see you laying in that hole, covered in blood, every time I close my goddamn eyes so don’t you dare say that I don’t care.”

“You did that for Dustin.”

“I did it for you. I did all of this for you!”

Kas glared at Steve, his fiery eyes burning a hole directly into his soul. “You did this for you! You can lie to yourself all you want by saying you did this for me if it helps you sleep at night but we both know you’re only here because a bottle of whiskey won’t drown out your guilty conscience any more. Yes, Steve, I know,” he divulged, smirking at the confusion on Steve’s face. “I know all about your sneaky little habit. Do your so-called friends know you’ve got vodka in your bag or are you still lying to them?”

“Stop it,” Steve sobbed.

“I can smell your blood alcohol level from here, you’re nothing but a fucking liar. Do you seriously think a bunch of teenagers and the town’s newest drunk are going to be enough to stop him? Stop us?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to stop him and undo what he did to you.”

“You did this to me!”

He stood there shell-shocked, unable to form any sort of retaliation to the words echoing in his head while Kas struggled against his restraints.

“It’s your fault. It’s all your fault!” Kas bellowed. “You’re the reason I died. You’re the reason Vecna’s still alive. You’re the reason he brought me back. You’re the reason that all your friends and the entirety of Hawkins will burn. He won’t stop until he’s taken everything and it’s all your fault.”

“Let me fix it,” Steve pleaded, desperation in his hoarse voice as a fresh wave of tears spilled from his eyes. “Please. I’m trying to fix it. Let me fix it.”

“You’re ego is astonishing. Listen to me, Steve,” he taunted, thrashing harder against the vines. “I’m not going back. I don’t want to go back. I want to make them all pay - Everyone who looked down on me my entire life, everyone who treat me like I was nothing better than shit on the bottom of their shoe. They’ll all pay. Nothing you can do will change my mind.”

Kas lunged forward and Steve felt his heart rate spike as the tension on the vines almost gave out. He was running out of time.

“I’d burn this whole fucking place down if it meant you got to walk out of here with me.”

And then it happened. Lightening cracked above as Kas let out a maniacal laugh and threw himself forward, the twisted vines around his waist finally giving out under the immense amount of pressure he was applying to them. In an instant, he was inches away from Steve’s face.

“You can’t fix it!” he yelled. “You can’t fix any of it. You’ve spent the last four years trying to fix things and all you’ve done is fuck them up further. Just give up, Steve. Your grovelling is embarrassing.”

“I can’t lose you again. I can’t. Please, Eds, just let me fix this. I have to fix this.”

“Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Steve screamed the words he’d been dying to say for so long loud enough that he was certain almost every creature in the Upside Down had heard them. “Because I love you!”

It was subtle, the twitch of Kas’s eyes. He had no other reaction - he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stood there, inches away, his chest heaving with rapid breaths.

“I fucking love you, okay? From the moment I saw you in that boat shack last year, I have loved you. I don’t care if you don’t think you’re brave or smart because it doesn’t matter to me. I barely got to know you before you died and every single thing I’ve learned about you since has only made me love you more,” he rambled unapologetically. If this was his final chance, he was going to say it all. “Even when you’re a vampire that wants to kill me, I love you. I’ve found myself waking up outside your trailer countless times because every fucking time I have a drink, I end up there trying to get to you. I’ve cried myself to sleep almost every night clutching your vest because I can’t fucking stand the pain of being without you. I mean it, Eds, I’ll burn this whole place down if it means you’ll walk out with me. He’s taken everything from me. I have nothing left to lose.”

Steve had imagined their first kiss over a thousand times during the early hours of the many mornings in which he’d found himself battling his demons. He’d always thought it would be picturesque, straight out of a cheesy romance movie scripted by the Gods of writing themselves.

Sometimes his fingers would entangle themselves into Eddie’s curls and he’d gaze longingly into his eyes before leaning in, gently pressing his lips against Eddie’s whilst he tried to ignore the fireworks erupting in the pit of his stomach. Sometimes they’d be at the movies and Eddie would fake a yawn, trying (and failing) to be smooth whilst placing an arm around his shoulder before pulling Steve towards him.

Unfortunately, nothing about the situation he’d found himself in was like the meticulously crafted scenes from his daydreams, and yet, it was perfect.

Steve knew when Kas didn’t respond that this was it. His final chance was now or never. Every card he’d been guarding so closely to his chest had to be laid out on the table. Thousands of unspoken words, a handful of moments, all of the clueless flirting, the palpable tension, and a year’s worth of longing, grief, regret, and desire all bundled up into this one last-ditch attempt at changing Kas’s mind with a potentially world-saving kiss.

The moment that Steve closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Kas’s the sky above was illuminated by wild cracks of lightning dancing around them at the same rate as the fireworks exploding inside of his stomach. It was gentle at first, timid even going by Steve’s usual standards, as though he was holding a delicate, cracked piece of china in his hands that would crack under the smallest amount of pressure but then, much to Steve’s bewilderment, Kas kissed him back and ignited a spark in Steve that gave him the hunger of a starving man.

The kisses turned torrid, foreheads bumping and hands sliding through hair with such ferocity that you’d of thought that something terrible would happen to either of them if they released the other. All of the air was sucked from his lungs leaving him dizzy, feeling like he was floating two feet off of the ground.

Only when Steve thought that he might genuinely pass out due to lack of oxygen did he pull away from the kiss. With his fingers still buried in Kas’s hair, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. For a split second, he could’ve sworn that the large, doe-like eyes looking back at him were their usual chocolate brown, illuminated with specks of golden honey as the lightning continued to crack.

Then he blinked and the bubble around them popped. The lightning ceased as quickly as the fire inside of him extinguished and he found himself sat on the cold, hard ground, with a pair of red eyes glaring down at him.

With a final taunt to rub salt into the wound, Kas turned his back on Steve and departed to rejoin his master. “Your friends are losing.”

[urdepressedslut]

All I Know ❝part five❞

☆ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC/The Winter Soldier x OC

☆ Summary: Problems arise when Bucky over hears the girl mumble something in her sleep. There's something off about her.

☆ Warnings: angst, fluff, anxiety attack

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+

“You're going to kill them because I've taught you to obey, and do nothing but obey.”

Blink

“..I've taught you to obey, and do nothing but obey.”

Blink

“..and do nothing but obey.”

Blink

“...obey.”

Blink

“Do you understand x001?”

Blink

“x001…”

Blink

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

Blink

“OBEY”

_________________________________

Bucky decided that he'd stay awake and gaze out the balcony window, knowing sleep would be hard to come. He feared if he shut his eyes, he'd be sucked into more memories. A part of him craved to know everything of who he used to be, but another wanted nothing of it. He wasn't the man he was from the memories, the ones with the blonde.. Steve.

Getting his memories back wouldn't change the fact that he is only a shell of who he was. There was no getting him back.

Thoughts of Steve realizing that tugged at his heart, his emotions confusing him. He figured Steve was important to him, but it frustrated him that he couldn't fully understand the bond. He was left trying to put together the empty spaces, of which he was tired of.

Shuffling from the girls form near the mattress caught Bucky's attention. Jealous that she accepted sleep so easily, but also fearing what she could possibly be dreaming about.

Focusing on her from his spot near the window, he watched her carefully.

"Soldat?"

A whisper from her lips had Bucky stiffening up, his heart started beating rapidly.

His flesh hand grew clammy, while his vibranium  limb tensed up. He felt frozen to his spot, not daring to move a muscle, in fear he'd trigger her. Her eyes were closed he took note of, but she had whispered so clear, it had his ears tingling while his body erupted with goosebumps. His flesh fingertips were almost completely numb, while his chest tightened, his lungs straining to expand.

His mind flooded with chaos..

Was this the plan to get The Asset back? She was a possible handler.. no. She seems harmless.. no she's dangerous and she could take me down with one touch. Does she know the words? Did I walk myself into HYDRA's trap?

Bucky let out a wheeze, exhaling the trapped air in his lungs. His body slumping forward in exhaustion, he could hear his own blood rushing through his veins, his mind racing. Attempting to take a deep breath to soothe the tightness in his chest, his throat constricted, not allowing any air to pass through. His vision blurred, his flesh hand grabbing at chest in desperation. Flinging his metal arm out, he grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter in a death grip, denting the cheap material in the process. Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt weak, letting his body lock in this permanent state of anguish.

Just barely, Bucky felt the tiniest wave of tranquility flow through his mind, easing his grip on the counter. Like a wall had been lifted from his crushed body, his throat cleared. His lungs burning and expanding, finally allowing air in. Leaning back against  the cabinets, Bucky let his limbs hand loosely at his sides, his once bent knees fall. How he was able to snap out of an episode like that? He ignored it, accepting the calm without question. The apartment fell back into a comfortable silence, the sound of his slowing heartbeat, along with an occasional cough.

Cracking open his eyes, he immediately checked Mary, hoping that she was still asleep. He felt embarrassed at a possibility of her watching him unravel. Bucky was never that lucky though.

Curious, concerned eyes were watching him cautiously from afar. Bucky met hers, almost as a silent conversation was being had, he nodded his head to her, letting her know he was okay. He wanted to ask how long she'd been awake, but he rather forget it altogether. Shuffling his body so he faced back towards the window, he let his exhausted eyes gaze out the window, focusing on nothing in particular.

Mary meanwhile couldn't find it in herself to fall back asleep, so she stayed awake, watching Bucky. He confused her, she couldn't quite find the reason of her many suspicions, but something continued to tug at her brain at every glance of Bucky she got.

_________________________________

Bucky finally moved from his spot from the floor, not moved since last night. Cracking his stiff neck, he glanced to see if Mary had moved from her spot. Although he wasn't surprised to find her in the same position as he last saw her, he was shocked to see her picking at the floor, wide awake like she never slept.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky stood fully and walked over to the fridge, grabbing another water bottle out for her. Shuffling over he squatted, placing the bottle down in front of her, gaining her full attention now.

Mary stared at the bottle, remembering his words from yesterday. He told her she didn't have to obey, she could make her own decisions. But she liked following, she found it comforting when it was him giving the orders.

Bucky saw the hesitation when she glanced up to him, and he should've known it would take more then one talk to get her out of these habits.

"Drink. It's yours." He told her, trying his best to not have it sound like a demand.

With a nod she twists the cap off, and gulps down a heavy amount.

"Not too fast, you're gonna get sick." Bucky warned, the mother instinct briefly showing itself again. He winced and stood back up, heading to the kitchen area.

She immediately slowed down her drinking, despite her feeling incredibly dehydrated.

"Bucky." She called out, voice staying quiet and soft.

Bucky turned to her, waiting for her to continue.

She had set the bottle down, pointing to the balcony, towards the outside. Bucky was waiting for her to want to explore, knowing it was unfair to keep her in here. He wasn't necessarily worried about her going outside, it was everyone else that he didn't trust. A constant possibility of someone from HYDRA spotting her, even him.

“It’s not safe out there.” He told her truthfully, ashamed to have to live in fear.

The girl frowned and glanced to the window again, hating the way she could see the outside from her spot, wishing she could explore.

Bucky felt bad almost immediately, watching her face drop. Surely, if she was from HYDRA, she’d understand why it wasn’t that easy.

“Sorry, people might spot us.” He clarified.

“You go out, yes?” She asked, making a good point. He was hoping she wasn’t going to pry, but after being isolated for as long as she was, he didn’t blame her for pushing.

“Not without difficulty. I’m very careful.”

She nodded her head, taking in his words.

“I can be careful too.” She whispered, her eyes desperate, full of fear that she’d be kept away from the outside forever.

He was giving in slowly, her saddened eyes making his heart ache. He understood her more than anyone could and he wouldn’t be the one to isolate her anymore then she already has been.

“Okay,” He started, Mary perked up, “I’ll take you outside soon, but it’s dangerous out there. You have to stay close to me, and listen to me when we go, okay?”

Mary nodded her head, he didn’t know it, but she would follow him regardless of him asking. She was very loyal, willing to do just about anything for him. He saved her, and she felt she owed him an impossible debt.

[sashi-ya]

𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ♡ ᴅᴀʏ 16 ➡ 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐘𝐑𝐔𝐏. nsfw .minors dni 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: @kwnblack asked: 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛! 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝙵𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍-𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞! ❤️ 𝐓𝐰: nsfw. food play. romantic. sweet sanji making love to you. devouring your chocolate covered skin. 𝐰𝐜: 876 ➡ hentober masterlist

Tastebuds that feel like climaxing, the dark chocolate with a spicy centre fills your mouth. “This is delicious” you whisper. The moon, the candles, and your personal prince feeding you his own creations from a platter. Cheese, chocolate, cranberries, special crackers.

“Nothing as delicious as you, my lady” Sanji says, with his usual chivalry and blushed cheeks.

He takes another bon-bon to your lips, and this time you bite it with just your front teeth. The filling oozes out, creating a sweet trail from the commissure of your mouth to your chin.

“My, my… let me clean it-“ the blonde says, smiling sweetly and grabbing a napkin. But you stop his hand right before it could get to your face. “Lick it clean~” you purr, putting his hand down, making it rest over your lap.

Sanji blinks a few times, and you can see how much he is fighting not to nosebleed to death. “O-Ok, my love” he stutters. Coming closer, with just the tip of his tongue he cleans the little sticky trail of filling. It makes you shiver, and you feel the tension starting to build in between your legs.

“Ah… I think my recipe is now complete” he whispers, with his lips lingering over yours. “Is it?” you ask back, also whispering and allowing your cupids bow to barely graze the start of his goatee.

He smirks, and he does it slowly. A little dimple marking over his cheek, and your heart beating as fast as it is humanly possible. -or maybe even more.

“See, the spiciness of the syrup needed a sweet flavor to balance it out, and your lips, (Name)-chwan, have naturally done it” he informs you. Sanji gets so incredibly sexier when he speaks about his passion, that is, at least for you, impossible not to jump to him.

And, you do. Your lips finally crush his. As if it was a game of who succumbed first, you did. You were the loser, or should I say the winner?

Both melt in a passionate kiss, little moans, specially from Sanji, scape your lips. And kisses turn into you two falling back onto the wooden deck of that cozy cabin in the middle of nowhere.  

At your feet, a lake reflecting the vast night sky, with millions of stars flickering around a full silver moon. A moon to which frogs and crickets sing, and a moon that now shine its light on Sanji’s and your naked skin.

“But it is also, the warmth of your skin, which turns the flavours all together” he finishes once your lips have become swollen but never satisfied of each other’s ones.

Chocolate syrup, that was supposed to accompany the fresh picked strawberries, is now being drizzled on your body. You squirm with the first drops traveling your flesh, and since Sanji will never, ever waste food, his tongue licks it out right, and straight from you.

Over your collar bones, down to your nipples. He sucks, he delights himself. His eyes almost in a heart shape; Sanji is always the one serving for the others, but, for tonight he is indulging in being served right by your own body.

Your back arches when his tastebuds now enjoy the flavour of your honeys mixed with the syrup. He goes feral, tracing circles around your bundle of joy, sucking and slurping everything that’s possible eating. Devouring you, using his fingers to spread but also to penetrate. In and out, and around.

You grab a fist full of his blonde locks, pulling, increasingly violently, as you reach climax. Sanji is only there to make his lover happy, and lord he does.

“More, Sanji-kun. Come here, please make love to me” you whine, when it’s too much to handle. You need him to be inside you, and you need it now.

“If that’s what my sweet dessert wants ~” he purrs, cleaning his chin of your honeys with his forearm. He guides himself in between your legs, showing his imponent beauty, blocking the silver rays of moonlight with his back.

His loving gaze, far from the childish play he uses to play whenever you are flirting with each other, shows you how much he loves you. No other woman has been able to catch his eye since his blue ones landed on you.

Sanji lends towards you to place his soft lips against yours, and while biting your lip with utmost care but lustful energy, he gets inside of you. Your clenching walls receive his length, and just when both have started feeling each other’s warmth, he starts moving.

Strong hips, legs with muscles that tense to regulate his thrusts. He doesn’t want to hurt you, even if his mind runs wild and begs for him to go feral. He goes slow, and then fast. Sanji goes up and down, Sanji stays deep inside you for some seconds while devouring your nipples.

The prince, the cook, knows exactly how to love your body. And because he knows, climax hits you. And with I love yous, and more sweet words, both melt in a beautiful limbo of pure ecstasy.

“I love you, my All blue” he whispers as you rest on his chest. “I love you, my sweet dream ~”

[ere-the-sun-rises]

Controversial Opinion

Microsoft Office is superior to Google's features. Hands down.

Point 1: Email

Okay, so here Google does actually win one. Gmail is better than Outlook not because it's a better service but because it's not trying so hard. Outlook is over-functional, in a way that says someone is justifying having a paycheck by adding features that no one wants or uses.

Point 2: Word Processor

Microsoft Word beats Gdocs to death in a back alley. Gdocs sucks so much ass it's not even funny. Word is the perfect program - clear parameters, nicely in-depth features and controls that allow for precise formatting. It doesn't lag no matter how long the doc is and it has more fonts than people on planet earth. You can easily save the doc as a PDF and it prints without issue. Gdocs has to beg for mercy and can barely manage to save to desktop without completely fucking up what little formatting you can manage. Plus, did you know that Gdocs doesn't save your work as a proper text file, but as image plates of each page? God, Docs sucks so much.

Point 3: Spreadsheets

GSheets is a joke. Its mother thinks its a failure and its siblings only hang out with it because they feel bad. Excel is intimidating, but for a reason - it knows what it's doing and is damn good at it. Nothing is beyond it. Nothing.

Point 4: Presentations

GSlides is screaming, crying, throwing up when Powerpoint walks into the room. Can you imagine? Intuitive slide management, no lag after ten slides, detailed formatting and being able to save and transfer without breaking both of its legs.

Point 5: Online Storage

OneDrive not only has more space, it has more sophisticated organization too. It saves stuff like your desktop would - in files, preserved formatting. It can also host online-only documents or just be a cloud backup. Drive wishes it could be so elegant instead of a dumpster.

Point 6: Meeting Platform

Teams is an unholy middle-management monstrosity made from a bargain with whatever eldritch being is in control of frustrating UI, but who tf has ever heard of Duo? Did you even know Google has a knock-off Zoom? I hate Teams, but if I had to be stucm in an elevator with the three of them, Teams is the only one I'd trust to reliably host a call for help. With a free Halo background, no less (Halo's artwork is so pretty you guys).

Point 7: Cost

Okay, Microsoft takes the L here again. I don't mind paying for stuff, but I resent subscriptions. Just fucking let me buy the program outright, you shitlords. But then again, Google is free for a reason.

I'm not a Microsoft shill or fan here, just a frustrated and irritated TA who's had people attempt to use Google's hideous products in their presence when the university provides Office to its students for free. The disrespect, honestly.

Dishonourable mention: Apple Pages.

You don't even have an excuse. Microsoft made Office for Apple and you know damn well that no dropbox accepts Pages files because they suck. Get that shit out of here.

P.S. I can tell when you're an Apple user too, because you never change the default font (San Francisco) to one any PC would have (like Arial, Calibri or Times New Roman).