#fully started gasping like a fish

[unbroken-teacup]

OLIVIER!!!!!!!! 💙💙💙💙💙

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

Xavier leans in and places a gentle kiss on your cheek, which you dramatically wipe off with the back of your hand. “Eww, Xavier! Cooties!”

Xavier stares at you blankly, though a slight tightening around his eyes betrays his feelings. After a moment of silence that lasts just long enough to become awkward, he tilts his head.

“Cooties... are not real,” he states matter-of-factly, then adds, “but if they were, you would already have them. We have kissed exactly forty-seven times in the past 3 days.”

His head tilts slightly as he studies your face with quiet intensity. “Did I... misinterpret something?” he asks slowly. Before you can respond, Xavier slowly leans in again, his eyes locked with yours in quiet challenge.

Just before his lips touch yours, he pauses. “Would you like number forty-eight?”

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

After a quick goodbye kiss, you dramatically wipe your lips and make a show of feigned disgust. Zayne freezes midway through the door.

“Gross, Zaynie! Do you know where those lips have been?” You start to regret pulling this prank on him when you see the hurt in his eyes masked by his still expression.

Zayne turns to face you fully. Without a word, he slowly walks back to you, his intense gaze never leaving yours. “Is that so?” he asks. “Let me remind you exactly where these lips belong, then.”

In one fluid motion, he cups your face with both hands and kisses you deeply, thoroughly, leaving no room for teasing. When he finally pulls away, there's a hint of smugness in his otherwise composed expression.

“Don’t wipe that one off. Please.” He straightens his tie with practiced ease before adding, “Doctor’s orders.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

Rafayel plants a playful kiss on your cheek before flopping dramatically onto the couch. The moment he closes his eyes, you loudly smack your hand against your cheek.

“Ew, fish breath!” you exclaim with exaggerated disgust.

His eyes widen comically as you wipe his kiss away, his mouth forming a dramatic ‘O’ shape. “Fish breath?! Me?!” He sits up. “What kind of joke is this? Why would you say something so untrue?”

You collapse into giggles. “I’m just joking! It was a prank!”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously before a mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Oh? A prank, is it? Well, two can play that game.”

Suddenly, he’s launching himself from the couch, tackling you into a heap of pillows. “You want fish breath? I’ll give you fish breath,” he threatens, making exaggerated kissing sounds while you shriek and try to escape.

“Stop! I surrender!” you gasp between fits of laughter. He hovers above you with twinkling eyes. “Take it back. My breath smells like... what’s something amazing?”

“Like ocean breeze and sunshine?” you offer.

“Hmm,” he considers, still pinning you down. “I like that more.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

“Hmm… what an odd aftertaste…” you mumble loud enough for him to hear. “Did you really think I wanted that?” You wipe your lips with your sleeves.

Sylus doesn’t move for a moment, his piercing eyes studying you. Then, slowly, a dangerous smile spreads across his face—the kind that would make others shrink back, but you know better.

“Sweetie,” he purrs, voice silky with amusement, “if you’re attempting to wound my pride, you’ll need to try harder.”

You huff, not getting the reaction you wanted, but it’s expected. “You’re no fun.”

Sylus kisses you again with his usual confidence, gripping your chin with his fingers. “If you want to play games, you should know better than to challenge someone who always plays to win.”

“What are you planning to do about it?” you taunt, still smiling.

His face stops just inches away, whispering, “I’ll ensure my taste lingers,” just before he proves his point.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

Caleb gives you a quick, sweet kiss before turning to grab his jacket. You immediately swipe dramatically at your mouth. “Blech! What was that? Military-grade morning breath?”

He whips around with an offended ‘are you serious?’ look, then his shoulders relax as he catches the mischief in your eyes.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” he says, breaking into a grin. “You know what happens to civilians who mock Fleet officers?”

You back up a step, still giggling. “What are the penalties, Colonel?”

“Severe.” You squeal as he suddenly lunges forward, catching you around the waist and spinning you in a circle. “Take it back!”

“Never!” you declare, struggling half-heartedly against his strong grip.

“Then, I’ll have to deploy countermeasures,” he threatens, eyes bright with laughter as he dips you dramatically and hovers his face above yours. “What kind of countermeasures?” you challenge breathlessly.

His smile softens. “The kind that’ll make you never want to wipe away my kisses again,” he murmurs before demonstrating exactly what he means.

Damn, I haven’t written any fanfics for, like, half a year or something, lol. Consider my first post as me warming up and trying to figure out what format I should use.

[darlingsblackbook]

Gojo x New Teacher!Reader | Part One

You’re the awkward introverted, soft-spoken new staff member and Gojo is the charming chaos who makes it worse

I | The first time Gojo greets you, he leans way too close and says, “So you’re the new teacher, huh?” You panic, accidentally drop your pen, and mutter something incoherent. He’s amused. You're mortified.

II | Gojo starts showing up outside your classroom after class with dumb excuses like, “I was in the area,” even though he obviously wasn’t. You never know how to tell him to go away… so you just stand there awkwardly until he walks you to the staff room.

III | You get so nervous when Gojo talks to you that you once said “thank you” instead of “goodbye” and then immediately power-walked away. He still brings it up. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

IV | Gojo nicknames you “quiet storm” and uses it in front of the other staff. You’re too shy to object and too flustered to ask him to stop, so he just… keeps doing it.

V | Gojo compliments your outfit one day and you go totally still—like a squirrel that spotted a predator. He notices and goes, “Do compliments make you freeze?” And you, frozen, squeak out a soft, “Maybe…”

VI | You once bumped into Gojo in the hallway and nervously said, “I’m sorry for existing.” He deadass paused, blinked, and went, “Did you just apologize for being alive?” and then laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall.

VII | Whenever Gojo is in the same room, you’re hyperaware of him. Like, can’t even hold your tea cup properly kind of nervous. One time, you accidentally dropped a biscuit into your tea in front of him, and you were too awkward to fish it out. So, you just drank your tea like that - full of soggy biscuit bits.

VIII | Gojo notices your habit of hiding behind your hair or collar when you get shy. So he starts gently brushing it aside whenever he talks to you, just to fluster you even more. He lives for the little gasps and wide eyes.

IX | You once laughed at one of Gojo's jokes and immediately covered your mouth like it slipped out. He leaned in with a teasing grin: “Was that a giggle? From you? I feel honored.”

X | During a group meeting, Gojo suddenly points at you and says, “By the way, this one’s voice is really cute.” You nearly choke on your water, hide behind your notes, and don't say a word for the rest of the meeting.

XI | You tried to thank Gojo for helping you with some papers, but you were so nervous that your voice cracked halfway through. He, of coudse, looked delighted. “Aw, was that a squeak? I’m keeping that in my memory forever.”

XII | One time you tried to open a heavy classroom door and Gojo appeared behind you and opened it with ease. You panicked and said, “Wow, strong.” He blinked… and then smirked. “You noticed?” ( lmao this made me think of that aot y/n x levi vids on tiktok😭 )

XIII | You avoid eye contact like your life depends on it. So Gojo starts ducking into your line of vision just to force it. “Look me in the eyes when I compliment you, coward.”

XIV | You always called him “Gojo-sensei” with full formality until he was done and told you, “Oof, don’t be so cold—call me Satoru~” and you looked like you were about to pass out on the spot.

XV | Satoru asked if you had a favorite color and you got so flustered trying to answer that you ended up saying, “Soup.” He hasn’t let it go since.

XVI | You sometimes rehearse your responses to Satoru in your head but the moment he actually talks to you, your brain goes blank and you end up just nodding or blurting something completely unrelated.

XVII | When Satoru discovered you like to eat lunch alone in the quiet garden, he started randomly joining you—uninvited. You’re too polite to ask him to leave… but you chew in complete silence while he talks like he’s on a podcast.

XVIII | You once tripped while bowing to thank Satoru. He caught you (obviously) and you were so embarrassed you said, “You can let me go now,” while still fully latched onto his arm.

XIX | One day it rains and you both end up under the same umbrella. Satoru holds it over your head with an annoying grin while you look everywhere but his face, hands clenched nervously. “You’re not even going to look at me? That hurts.”

XX | Despite all the awkwardness, Satoru finds it endearing. He never pushes you too far—just enough to make you smile or laugh. And even when you’re flustered, you’ve started realizing… you kind of look forward to seeing him.

© 2025, DarlingsBlackBook

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

In-ho/frontman x Vip's daughter reader x square black guard

Smut - just smut, And frontdaddy being in charge.

I'll give you carte blanche for the plot.

Ooh!! The officer! I kinda liked him. :D

Anyway here it is!

Teaching the brat

Squid Game masterlist

Hwang In-ho/Frontman x vip!daughter!reader x the officer

Cw/triggers: Smut, nsfw, vaginal sex, oral(m!receiving), masturbation, fingering, dom!frontman, multiple orgasms, mild degradation, unprotected sex, threesome. Not proof read, I'm sorry if you encounter some typos.

Plot: You're the daughter of a VIP watching the games. Your dad had the tendency to treat the staff and the front man himself like shit. Hwang In-ho knew he couldn't do anything against him because of his status, but he also knew the same did not apply to you, so one day he had enough, ordering the officer to get you into his room and finally let out his frustrations on you.

The officer was ready to leave, but In-ho stopped him.

"No, stay."

The officer stopped, nodding. "As you wish."

In-ho studied you for a moment before speaking up.

"Take off your mask." In-ho ordered, watching the officer expectantly while slowly unzipping his pants, getting comfortable in his seat.

While the officer removed his mask, In-ho turned his hungry gaze to you.

"You, undress."

In-ho watched you intently, his cock was painfully throbbing as he palmed himself, then he motioned for the officer again.

"Fuck her with your fingers, get her ready for us. I want her leaking like a river."

The officer nodded, kneeling down on one knee infront of you, spreading your legs and began rubbing your clit. Your fingers tightened on the cushion of the couch, the circular motions intensified.

Your breath came out in gasps, your juices dripping down on the couch, as he ran his fingers through your slippy folds and slipping two inside, causing needy moans coming out of you.

In-ho watched the show infront of him, holding his throbbing cock in his hand while lazily stroking it.

"Faster," he ordered "Let her cum on your fingers."

The officer thrusts his fingers harder, at this point he himself was hard himsself, having to reach down with his other hand palming his erection through the suit.

Your moans gotten louder, desperate, and as his thumb found your clit, a high pitched moan shrieked past your lips, your hips bucking and your juices gushing all over his fingers with your first orgasm.

"Good girl." In-ho praised, watching you with parted lips and a hint of a smirk. "Now I want you to suck his cock." his eyes flicked to the officer who was still kneeling infront of you.

You were already exhausted from that one orgasm and both of them haven't even started. You watched the officer get up, letting out a hiss at how his erection was straining in his suit. He sat down next to you on the couch, unzipping his suit and fishing his thick, precum stained cock out, giving himself some strokes before his hand moved to grab the back of your head. In-ho gave him a curt nod, allowing him to push your head down until your lips were near his tip.

"Open up, little one." He rasped, giving your head a slight tug downwards.

You parted your lips and he pushed you down until his cock hit the back of your throat.

He let out a relieved sigh, closing his eyes and groaning as you started sucking him off. His hand slid down to the back of your neck, giving a soft squeeze.

"Fuck, look at her. Knew she'd be good for something." In-ho said, now standing up and making his way over to you, his dick dripping with precum.

In-ho grabbed your hips, pulling you up until you were kneeling on the couch, sparing no time positioning his cock at your entrance, nudging gently.

The officer looked at In-ho through half lidded eyes. "You had her in mind?"

In-ho chuckled, thrusting into you until he was fully inside. "Of course, she's a spoiled brat. Acting up like this place belongs to her."

A strangled moan came out of you, vibrating against the officer's cock. Your back arched as In-ho tightened his grip and started pounding away at your still dripping pussy.

"Yeah, she has a smartass mouth too." The officer agreed with In-ho, starting to slowly rock his hips upwards, driving his cock deeper down your throat.

Your gag reflex settled in but you managed to keep it down long enough until his cock was pulled out enough for you.

In-ho huffed. "You have no idea. It's like she's acting up on purpose just so someone gets to teach her a lesson."

You knew they were degrading you, but it's not like you could do anything about it. The front man is in charge and there is nothing even you could do about it.

In-ho leaned close to your ear, giving your hips a squeeze as he spoke.

"And your dad is the most annoying VIP, thinking he can shoo me around like some dog."

His thrusts fastened.

"Maybe I'll just use you to let out my frustrations on. All while he's with the others, you're here, serving my needs."

His voice was rough, his breath hot and you knew he isn't joking.

The officer groaned, he's already getting desperate to cum, his hand on your neck tightened and his hips bucking up to meet you.

"Shit her mouth is good– I'm about to cum." He warned, squeezing your neck and with a final, deep push, he released his hot cum down your throat before releasing his hold on you, allowing you to pull yourself off.

You didn't even had the chance to pull off on yourself before In-ho's hand reached under your chin, slowly pulling you off the officer's softening dick and pulled your head back.

"See how it goes, beautiful? You do as you're told." In-ho said, his hands wandering to your ass cheeks, squeezing them firmly.

Your eyes rolled back as he angled his hips to hit a spot inside you. The way he was pounding into you had your orgasm approach rapidly.

"Fuck," In-ho groaned "I'm definitely gonna keep you here atleast a few times while your dad is here." his thrusts frenzied and his breathing quickened.

He hit your spots repeadedly, making stars cloud your vision and with a final hit of that special spot, you arched into him, squeezing his cock for all it's worth and coating it in your juices.

"Shit!" In-ho gasped, he was so close to cum, now only using you to chase his release. His orgasm hit him hard, spilling his cum into your well-used pussy, breathing heavily as he stopped his movements.

In-ho pulled out after a minute, letting the fluids drip out of you and down onto the couch.

In-ho nodded towards the officer. "You can go now." he said surprisingly gentle.

The officer nodded, tucking his now soft cock back in his boxers, zipped up his suit and put his mask back on before making his way out.

You looked back at In-ho, who tucked his cock back in his pants aswell and then catching your gaze, leaning closer.

"You on the other hand stay here. The VIPs are far from going home."

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

[prettygirl-gabi]

True Story. 🦐💔

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings

Summary: I was craving seafood, Paige was grossed out, and “Shark Tale” trauma turned into TikTok gold.

A/N: I want seafood….

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav

It started with a craving.

Not just a “hmm, that sounds good” craving. No—this was a deep, soul-level, can’t-stop-thinking-about-it kind of craving.

I needed seafood.

The messy kind.

The kind that comes in a plastic bag drenched in sauce, where you wear gloves and feel like a barbarian queen while cracking crab legs with your bare hands.

So naturally, I turned to Paige.

“Babe,” I said one lazy Saturday afternoon, holding up my phone with DoorDash open, “I need seafood. Like, real seafood. Crackin’-shells, bib-on, butter-everywhere seafood.”

She looked up from the couch like I’d just told her we were going to a taxidermy museum. “Like… boiled seafood?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Spicy. Garlicky. Messy.”

Paige made a face, then forced a smile that I knew was 99% love and 1% pure terror. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

We ended up at this Cajun seafood spot—plastic tablecloths, paper towel rolls for napkins, gloves on the table. Basically, my heaven.

I was in my element.

Braids tied up, sleeves rolled, fingers dripping in garlic butter.

Paige, meanwhile, was sitting across from me like the table might bite her.

I noticed her food hadn’t arrived yet. She was just poking a straw through her lemonade lid like it had personally offended her.

When the waiter finally brought her plate, I did a double-take.

“You got… chicken tenders and fries?”

She didn’t look at me. “Yeah.”

I blinked. “You’re in a seafood restaurant. A literal crab shack. And you got chicken tenders?”

“Yes,” she said, stabbing a fry like it was plotting something. “Because all this”—she gestured vaguely to my spread of shrimp, crab legs, and corn—“looks like it crawled straight out of a horror movie.”

I gasped, deeply offended. “You let me come here, ordered off the kids menu, and sat across from me like this is normal?”

“I love you,” she deadpanned, “but this whole meal smells like feet and fish sauce.”

I cracked up, nearly choking on my crawfish. “You’re so dramatic.”

She leaned back, arms crossed. “I’m not the one with lobster juice on my face.”

A week later, the craving struck again.

But this time, I was ready.

I didn’t even ask her. I just turned on the TV, set up the coffee table with gloves, a bib, and a fresh, steaming seafood bag—and queued up Shark Tale on Netflix.

Paige walked into the living room, stopped in her tracks, and said, “Are you serious?”

I looked up innocently from my tray of crab legs. “If I have to eat alone, I might as well do it in style.”

She gave me a look, but sat down next to me anyway, visibly bracing herself.

Fifteen minutes in, I was fully locked in—cracking legs, dipping into butter, vibing with Oscar’s nonsense.

Paige was sitting beside me like a hostage.

And then… it happened.

The shrimp scene.

“It’s true, it’s true! And the other thing is, my sister had a baby and I took it over after she passed away…”

I could feel Paige tense beside me. Her hand paused mid-air with a fry.

I smirked.

Right as the shrimp started sobbing on screen, I picked up a real shrimp from my plate, popped it in my mouth, and dramatically chewed while pointing at the screen like, same, bro.

Paige audibly gasped. “Oh my God. You’re unwell.”

I started cackling. I grabbed my phone, wiped my fingers real quick, and hit record. Zoomed in on the shrimp. Then on me. Then back on the screen.

Perfectly timed, perfectly deranged.

I posted it to TikTok with the caption:

“Just trying to support his stump baby 🥲🦐 #sharktail #seafoodnight #truestory”

By the time I’d licked the last bit of garlic butter off my fingers, the video already had 10,000 views.

That night, Paige flopped onto me in bed like a starfish, face down, groaning into my stomach.

“I cannot believe you ate a shrimp during that scene.”

I was still wheezing from laughing. “You’re just mad the shrimp had a better backstory than you.”

She rolled over and narrowed her eyes. “I supported your weird little seafood gremlin adventure. That’s more emotional maturity than most people would offer.”

I smiled and cupped her cheek. “And I love you for it.”

She grinned. “Just promise me next time, no shrimp during the trauma monologue.”

I kissed her forehead. “Absolutely not.”

She shoved a pillow into my face. “Unwell. So unwell.”

TikTok Audio Trending:

🎵 “All the love I see in that little guy’s face… it makes it worth it in the end.”

Caption: POV: You’re the shrimp I just ate while watching Shark Tale. 🦐💔

Top Comment:

Paige in the background lookin like she saw a murder 😭😭😭

Second Top Comment:

She really said shrimp lives don’t matter 💀

Third Top Comment (from Paige):

I want to break up but also I paid for that shrimp.

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                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough. 

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her. 

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love. 

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill. 

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them. 

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end. 

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son. 

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die. 

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed. 

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers. 

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded. 

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow. 

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour. 

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

 There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to. 

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice. 

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him. 

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament. 

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods. 

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room. 

- Shall we, my Lady? 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat. 

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features. 

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade. 

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed. 

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it. 

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug. 

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade. 

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. 

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses. 

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you. 

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking. 

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies. 

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man. 

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike. 

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way. 

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps. 

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting. 

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls. 

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head. 

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo. 

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts. 

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me. 

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him. 

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle. 

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art. 

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards. 

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh. 

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs. 

[revelboo]

My coworker: So what are your plans for the weekend? ☺️

Me: Oh not much. Just doing life stuff and probably reading some Transformers fanfiction 🙂

Me inside: I'm gonna read about getting dicked down by giant alien robots 🫠🫠🫠

🤣 what’s wrong with that? 🔞 🌶️

My Favorite Accident Pt 17

Knockout x Reader x Breakdown

• Struggling to wiggle out of his hands as he carries you, arm swinging slightly to make you nauseous, you alternate between demanding he let you go and threatening. Because there’s a good chance this asshole is going to drown you on purpose and pretend it’s an accident. Especially when you see the big container he grabs and starts filling. To the top. Shit. “Wait-wait! Don’t you dare!” Clawing trying to hang onto his servos as his hand lifts and he lets go and you’re screaming as you hit the water, still fully dressed. “I can’t swim, you asshole!”

• What? Humans swim. He’s seen them do it. Almost certain you’re just messing with him, except, that’s some fragged up looking swimming. Flailing and gasping, hands clawing at the side of the energon cube. And frag. You actually can’t swim. “For frag’s sake,” he growls, reaching for you as you go under and his servos wrap around your squirming form, hauling you out as you cough up water, thrashing like a mad thing to batter yourself against his servos. “You’re fine.” Probably.

• Coughing and retching as your chest burns, you slump against his servos. “Fuck you,” you groan as he vents like you’re inconveniencing him as he carries you to a stall and you flinch as warm water pelts you. And he’s scowling down at you, likely disappointed you didn’t drown. Except he’d almost immediately fished you out after realizing you weren’t just being dramatic. Making you think maybe he’s not as big an asshole as you first thought. Or he just didn’t want his boyfriend pissed at him for killing you within five minutes of being trusted with you. You’re betting on the latter. Especially when he plucks at your sodden clothes. “Not on your life,” you growl, smacking his servo hard enough your hand stings when he tries to tug your shirt off over your head.

• “You stink,” he growls. Though truthfully, you mostly smell like Knockout and it’s driving him crazy. Hates his partner’s scent on you. That scent is only supposed to be clinging to him, no one else. Especially not some squishy, little pain in his aft. And you finally give up, swearing nonstop as he strips you and holds you in the spray. Venting when Knockout pokes his head in to check on him like he’s incapable of washing you and hands him an impossibly tiny bottle of cleanser as you tell him he’s an ‘absolute dick of a friend.’

• Chuckling and wincing when Breakdown pops the bottle trying to open it and gets it all over you, Knockout crosses his arms and watches you squirm and scream threats as Breakdown washes you. Replacing his scent with Breakdown’s own and a shiver of heat runs through him at that thought. Your softness with Breakdown’s musk. And your scent clinging to his partner as he rides the bigger mech. “Hurry up, I don’t like being kept waiting,” he calls out and Breakdown freezes, engine revving as he catches on. Hearing you screech at Breakdown for rubbing a servo between your thighs, the mech not even paying attention to what he’s doing.

Previous

[zaqnette]

Inspo: 1 & 2 (🌽 Links)

Daddy sits in my room, waiting for me to return from school. When I get home, he calls me upstairs and pulls me onto his lap. <3

I pushed open my bedroom door and found him sitting on the edge of my bed, his eyes on me the second I entered.

"Come here." He patted his thigh.

As soon as I was close enough, his hands found my waist, guiding me to settle on his lap. One of his arms curled around me, keeping me in place, while the other traced slow patterns along my back.

"Missed you," he murmured, his breath warm against my temple. I let out a soft sigh, melting into him. "Missed you too, Daddy."

"How was school today?" he asked, running his calloused hand up and down my back, his other hand settled on my thigh.

I let out a sigh and leaned against his chest, "Ugh, it was so long. First, I had this super boring French lecture, the class was a very beginners level course and we were asked to speak and write on a very elementary level. Like we were back in school in Grade 3 or 4! and I swear the clock was moving backward. Then, at lunch, they ran out of fish sticks, so I had to settle for cornbread, and it was just—ugh. And don’t even get me started on the homework! My teacher piled on so much work, I think she enjoys watching us suffer."

He let out a hearty laugh at my rant, causing me to giggle. His hand continued to roam over my thigh, each getting more daring as he listen to my rambles. "Sounds rough, but you made it through, baby."

"I barely survived," I rolled my eyes dramatically, snuggling closer to him. "It was a pure torture, you know?"

"Mmhm," He hummed in response, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Then rest, sweetheart. I've got you.

He slides his hand beneath my skirt, kneading my inner thigh before settled to cup my pussy mound. "Let me help you relax," he murmurs, nipping playfully at my earlobe. He rubs his thumb in circles over my clit through my panties, creating a wet spot there.

"Daddyy..." I whimper softly, hips grinding against his palm to release some frictions. I could feel his growing bulge straining against his jeans and pressing against my inner thigh.

He pulled my panties aside and slipping a finger inside me with ease, "Look at you, so wet already. Did you miss your daddy's big cock that much?" He teased, relishing the blush that spread accross my cheek. He curled his finger inside me, feeling me clench around his digits as he hit the spongy spot inside.

"You really want it that much, huh? Do you want to be bred by your daddy?" I was too focused on grinding my hips to hear his question. In response to my silence, he gives my ass a firm smack. "I asked you a question, girl. Better answer me."

"Hnn-! Yes, pleasee..." I let out a honeyed mewl.

A satisfied smirk tugged on his lips, his thumb continuing its torturous dance over my clit while his middle and ring fingers stretching my cunny. He love how easily I submitted to him, how quickly I become desperate for his touch. "That's what I thought," he murmurs.

He stand abruptly, lifting me from the ground with ease and tosses me onto the bed. I bounce slightly from the impact before he climbs on top of me. He rips off my shirt and undies, not caring if they tear in the process, leaving me only with my skirt on. "Look at you," he growls, his cock now fully erect and dripping pre-cum. "So eager for daddy's cock."

He positions himself at my entrance and thrusts in roughly, relishing the sound of my gasp. He starts pounding into me, each thrust harder and faster than the last. He's not gentle - he knew I don't want him to be. I moan and writhe beneath him, my nails digging into his back as I try to keep up with his pace. He leans down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss as he continues to fuck me mercilessly.

"Daddy..." I moaned breathlessly, "Feels good~"

"Yeah, baby?" he grunts, increasing his pace. He can tell that I already close, my walls clenching around him as I moan into his mouth. He breaks the kiss, moving his lips to my ear. "You're such a good little slut, aren't you?" he whispers harshly, nipping at my lobe. "Always ready for daddy's big cock."

He reaches between our bodies, his large hand covering mine as he guide it to my clit. "Rub yourself for me," he order, "Make yourself cum on my dick." I follow his command, my fingers working feverishly as he pounds into me.

"Oh- m-more.. don't stop..." He watch my face contort with pleasure, his own orgasm building.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, thrusting deeper. "I'm gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine."

He collapses onto me, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath. He rolls off after a few moments, pulling me into his arms and holding me close. "Mmm, that's my good girl," he praises, planting a sloppy kiss on my forehead. He strokes my hair lazily, his cock still semi-hard against my thigh.

"Daddy!" I squeal and squeezed my legs shut as he pushed back his cum that seeped through my slit with his digits, "No more, I can't!"

"Of course you can baby girl, I knew it." He placed his hands on my knees and slowly parted my legs, "Just trust me. You know I'll take care of you, don'tcha?" <3

P/S: English is not my first language, sorry if there were lots of gramatical error

૮ ›̥̥̥ ⸝⸝ ‹̥̥ ྀིა

[lunarriviera]

I'm watching Guardian right now but the god awful CGI is making me laugh during serious moments. help.

legit reaction tho, almost all the CGI is truly hilaribad, especially during the first few episodes (that whole water demon/spirit thing? wow. just…wow) (and chu shuzhi's puppet ksdhfksfd whyyyyyyy)

BUT. here's the thing about guardian: 1) try to think of its kitsch as a feature, not a bug. just go with it, lean fully into all of the cringe. shen wei's dorkiness. dixingren being meteor-mutated aliens imprisoned underground. snake lady. talking cat. zhao yunlan's terrible hair (that at least will change). just EMBRACE it. that way when the very sharp knives suddenly come out and start flashing, in classic cdrama style, you will be completely taken aback and gasp in shock, and, not long thereafter, begin to weep and not stop until 3 days after you've seen the last episode. because, if you truly accept the initial lunacy of guardian, eventually it WILL gut you like a wriggling fish.

also 2) it's much easier to accept the rocky production values if you make mental allowances for how the company went utterly bankrupt midway through filming; the only reason guardian ever got finished AT ALL was that the cast and crew basically decided to work for free on an insanely accelerated schedule, during which all the actors are having to wear their own clothes. (fortunately for zhu yilong he had kept a bunch of pieces from modeling shoots, so he's able to fabricate some kind of more or less consistent Look for shen wei—like the painted-on blue suit with its inexplicable ass chain. mad drip.)

like. everyone knows this already so i'm sure you do too but there's a reason they have one (1) good piece of music (the opening song) and that's about it: they just flat ran out of money. this had some good results (we never have to see chu-ge's puppet again) and some not so great ones (i won't spoil you but let's just say it involves internal organs). ultimately, guardian only knows how to do three things but it does those superbly well: a) zhu yilong and bai yu staring at each other with ravenous desperation, like they're gonna die if they can't breathe the same air forever, b) a time-loop script that really comes through in the back half, and c) related to both of these, an ending that WILL make you throw objects around your home and then immediately read the novel/a bunch of fanfic. the good news is it's an amazing novel (though very different) and the fanfic is sine qua non. (also you get two ships for the price of one so don't sleep on chuguo.)

these are my 7 am thoughts on guardian. i wasn't sold on it at all until about a third of the way through but by then i was clutching it to my face sobbing and begging it to never end. guardian is weird like that—either you're gonna fall for it so hard it will change your entire media life (the way btvs or x-files did for fans in the 1990s) or you'll wind up dropping it. which is fine! for brilliant cgi you can watch like, idk. the expanse or something. (and fwiw i laugh at serious moments ALL THE TIME, my film students really hate it. i feel like it's a gen x coping strategy but they're alpha and very Earnest and Sincere.)

tldr watch guardian at least until you get to the kitchen scene before you decide. then you'll know if it's right for you. love you madly!! <3

[peachyforthis]

Genshin men when YOU try to make their signature dish (pt 1)

+ when they make yours

Featuring: Kaveh, Neuvillette, Alhaitham

Kaveh

Would accidentally snort in laughter when seeing you struggle to put those biscuit crusts in place.

But would refrain from laughing more in seeing your dedication to make this dish for him, a sincere smile on his lips and heart swelling with love.

Might actually start telling you the mathematically calculated way to position the crusts while you get tired eventually and remind him that these biscuits have to be broken down to eat anyways, for which he would dramatically gasp and pout while saying, “It’s all about the art and presentation!”

Would definitely add a touch of his architect designs on your favourite food that you’ll be in awe of his skills, while simultaneously thinking if you really wanna break and eat this masterpiece.

“You are truly a genius. Now i feel guilty for eating your art.”

“Nonsense!, I can make these new structures a thousand times for you. Only if you’d want that.”

How could you say no to seeing what new designs he comes up with every time.

Would feed the food to you himself, since you felt bad breaking his yet another masterpiece.

He wouldn’t mind. Honestly, he would be secretly so proud since you loved his passion so much too.

Neuvillette

Would have to request his Melusine assistant for his favourite, chilliest water stash to make this.

Honestly, when you sample some to check, it’s not that different from the normal consomme you make except it’s more… refreshing with his imported water (why are you even surprised anyways).

But you’d make it anyday for your beloved Dragon as you see him devour it (in his proper manners of course), while telling you how delicious it was after you finally settle down on his lap, with him lovingly kissing your cheek.

“Exquisite flavours, my beloved.”

You lean up and kiss him.

“I did use your water stash though. Never knew it would be this hard to convince Sedene that i won’t waste it. She definitely guards it like mora,” to which he chuckles.

On a rare free day, you would catch him suffering trying to learn to make your favourite food, even if the said food is fried or dried like those Mondstat hash browns or Charcoal baked Ajilenakh cakes.

“I often have wished to make some of these hash browns for you, ahem… although these oil fumes do make me feel like I’m losing my Hydro constitution.”

And honestly, to you this is more than enough proof of his eternal love.

Alhaitham

You wanna make his signature food as a surprise for him since he’s a bit stressed these days. So you make up your mind to cook it on your free day while Alhaitham is away at the Academiya.

At first, spends too much time thinking if you really wanna write the word “contemplation” on the finished dish.

Eventually, you’d add it since you wanna make this just like Alhaitham likes, even if you don’t understand the aesthetic. But if that’s how Alhaitham likes? You’ll do it willingly. Like how love is a feeling which sometimes cannot be understood fully, yet you both have it for each other.

Fishes out his special patterned frying pan and measures the spices he likes to add to the dish.

When Alhaitham comes home in the evening he immediately recognizes the smell and goes to the kitchen first to see you fully focused on making his dish, marking out the symbols albeit a bit clumsily, not noticing Alhaitham watching you with a warm, tender gaze.

Later, tries to be nonchalant when you serve him lovingly, but you know better when he kisses your head and blushes a bit after while you have that grin on your face. Smiles seeing your clumsy handwriting of “contemplation” word on his dish.

He is a methodical person. Would search up your favourite dish and measure out the exact ingredients, time and procedure. Wouldn’t mind redoing it since he wants your favourite to taste precisely how you like.

“You know I wouldn’t mind if it doesn’t taste the exact same. Whatever you make, I’ll eat it heartily,” you giggle.

“Only the best for you. Plus, don’t worry about the wastage of the previous failed attempts. I have enough mora and I know Kaveh wouldn’t mind gobbling anything since he’s always starved.”

reblogs would be very appreciated ^^

[cutelittlechiroptera]

yandere Reiji Sakamaki x reader please! 💙💙

Beneath the Vessel

Yandere Sakamaki Reiji x reader

This is definitely one of my favourite works I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!🤍

Synopsis: Obsession is brimming underneath the perfectly polished surface of the spectacled vampire.

Masterlist

Warnings: yandere, obsession

The table was set with the finest silverware and with elegant plates with dark blue flowers painted on with perfect precision. Lit candles were thoughtfully placed across the table. The room was dimly lit, with only the lamps that hung on the walls. The large curtains were open, giving the outside world a clear look inside the carefully crafted façade. The sky was moonless and the stars seemed dull, even so you couldn’t help but long for them in a way child would long for their mother.

At the head of the table sat the dark haired vampire. His attire was elegant and without even the tiniest specks of dust. His white dress shirt was almost fully buttoned up, save for the two upper buttons. His dark red waistcoat had an old watch hung from its pocket in an old fashioned way. Silver glasses were resting on his nose as his deep magenta eyes bored into your doe-like eyes.

Yet again he was able to read you like an open book. He pried you open and peered inside you as much as he liked, because there was nothing you could keep a secret from him. You were a vulnerable thing and he cherished that dearly.

Reiji lifted his wineglass without leaving your eyes and took a sip. The bloody colour of the wine a reminder of who was sitting to your left. He swirled the wine and let the liquid swish like the unruly tides of the Japanese coast. You could picture yourself onboard a boat inside the red ocean. Struggling against the waves, trying to hold onto your life lest it would fall out of your control.

Your fingers found the stem of your wineglass and you clutched it. Your eyes didn’t leave his and you imagined what would happen if you broke the fragile glass. He would be sure to make your life hell on earth.

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” his dark voice oozing of authority. It was like lightning, crashing down into a fragile dying tree. Its branches breaking as a result of its strength and brutality. “Do you take me for a fool? Is that it? Have I not been perfectly clear?”

You swallowed and looked down, because you did not dare to face the wrath lurking within his beautiful magenta eyes that glared at you through silver spectacles. Your chest heaved irregularly as the sound of his cutlery stilled.

A storm was brewing, and you were in the midst of it with no escape.

“I told you specifically to not converse with a man without my presence. What if-” Reiji cut himself off, but his words hung in the air. What if the man had hurt you? Was the words the vampire had been meaning to say.

His anger was visible as you finally found the courage to look at him. Veins were popping out of his forehead and his neck. A furious redness had overtaken his usually pale skin and his eyes were small and laced with fear and fury.

You watched silently as he struggled with his conflicted emotions. He was a very, afraid and ashamed. He had no control over his feelings and that scared him. Greatly. You carefully reached out and touched his hand that was buried in his dark locks. You stroke his skin with a soothing circular motion. You watched as he gasped for air. It was the first time you had touched him gently willingly.

His eyes shot to yours as he gaped at you like a fish washed up ashore. Finally you had found foothold in the storm.

You leaned forward and whispered with a hushed tone “I’m alright, Reiji. It was just a polite conversation. You have nothing to worry about”.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly. His breathing was quick as he started at you. His mouth opened and closed as if he was unsure of what to say. Soft fingers brushed over his cheekbone.

You had finally gotten hold of the helm. The waves calmed, but the waters were still not clear of any dangers. Beneath your feet stirred a dark monster. It’s tentacles wrapped around the vessel, but still letting it sail. At least for now.

[beeslibrarycorner]

Night Time Aid

WARNING: MDNI, smut

You were tossing and turning, frustrated that you couldn’t fall asleep. Your nightgown felt constricting the more you moved and the heat radiating off of cooper wasn’t helping much either. You hadn’t realized cooper had woken up until his arm tightened around you.

“Go back to bed baby, I’m sorry I woke you up” you grumbled as you yawned and rubbed your eyes trying to get out of his grip. Your attempt was useless because he kept inching closer.

“I’m not going back to sleep until I know your sleeping” he murmured and pushed his face into the skin of your neck. He suddenly detached from you and sat up.

“I have an idea” he said a grin growing on his face as he pulled you up with him. He dragged you out of bed and guided you to the living room. He pushed you onto the recliner and you let him, curious about what his idea was.

He grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, put it to a channel with some documentary on. He threw the remote somewhere and then dropped to his knees, “what are you doing?” you asked him.

“I’m going to help fix your little problem, just relax and watch what’s on the tv” he said and then he pulled up your nightgown and he got to work.

Mouth finding your clit instantly and sucking hard. You gasped at the sensation, your hand moving to grab onto the arms of the chair to steady yourself.

The light of the tv illuminated the both of you in a low blue light. You looked down to watch what cooper was doing and he met your gaze.

He opened his mouth and licked up what was leaking out of your cunt. “Keep your focus on the screen don’t focus on me honey” he said before closing his mouth around your clit again and humming at the taste.

You tried bucking your hips into his face but he pinned your hips down with one arm. You couldn’t even focus on what was on the screen, your eyes felt too heavy.

He abruptly stopped sucking on your clit and inserted two fingers into you. He rests his head on the top of your thigh.

“My poor little love needs to relax, that’s why I’m here sweetheart. So I can help you shut your brain off” he cooed his fingers crooking upward into the spongy tissue.

You tighten up at the feeling and he chuckles. “Look at you” he cooed. You looked down to see his smiling face. “You look so relaxed already, good girl” he said.

He took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth humming at the taste. You looked at him puzzled the pleasure you were feeling was ebbing away.

“Don’t look so disappointed sweetheart, I promise you everything is going to feel so good.” He said reassuringly.

And then he got back to work rubbing your clit slowly before insirting two fingers in again. You hummed throwing your head back relishing in the pleasure you were feeling.

“She is so needy isn’t she?” he asked and you looked at him not really understanding what he was getting at. He continues, “your pussy, she’s very needy and demanding isn’t she sweetheart??

You nod feeling goosebumps spread at his words and the way everything feels. The first inkling of a warning that your orgasm was coming startled you.

You were enjoying the constant pleasure that you didn’t want it to end. Cooper smirked knowingly, he always knew when you were starting to get close even before you knew.

“Let go sweetie, you’ll feel so much better afterward” he murmured before reattaching his mouth to your clit and curling his fingers hard.

He hummed against the flesh, the sensation made you eyes roll to the back of your head. The pressure and movement of his fingers against your upper wall felt like too much.

It was inevitable, you cum seconds later and it’s intense. You inhale a sharp breathe, convulsing against his mouth and fingers. He doesn’t let up until he knows your fully spent and stops when overstimulation starts to seep in.

The both of you catch your breath, the tv playing in the background. There’s a coral reef and colorful fish on screen, the both of you look in silence before he grabs the remote from the floor and turns the tv off.

He turns to you, a lazy grin on his face. “You look so much more relaxed honey, let’s get you to bed” he said before pulling you to stand with him.

He brings you back to bed after cleaning you up. He was pressing kisses into your skin and telling you how much of a good girl you were and how much he loved you.

“I wouldn’t mind being between your legs every time you have trouble falling asleep” he murmured into your hair and you giggled at the comment.

He started rubbing slow soothing circles into your back. It only took a couple of minutes for you to fall asleep with your head cradled against his chest.

[bowieandqueen11]

Sanji With A Clingy Reader Would Include...

Request: OH BABY telling about one piece is like unlocking a whole second heart of mine i have fully for that anime and manga and live action. and so, if you ever decided of course, you writing something similar to something you did on marvel once and sanji with reader that has no personal space and is touchy would be amazing. but also... kissing zoro is great to, if you ever decided? anyway! HOPE YOU LOVE IT (one piece i mean), and if not ignore me UwU

Ooh yess babes this is so SWEET!! :3 I LOVED IT omg hello to my latest obsession not me ordering the first collection of the manga

This was really sweet and fun to do, but I did stay up all night writing it so all comments are much appreciated!

Warning: slightly spicy, some mentions of fighting!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fanpageknight.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look at this man. Seriously, look at this man with his little bottom lip bite and eyes like the sun shines heavily out of them and tell me he would be anything less than absolutely madly, heart wrenchingly, soul crushingly enthralled with a clingy reader??? That's right you can't take the l on this one.

It all started that day when the three of you ended up shipwrecked on that sad sack excuse of a rock. When you and Sanji huddled on one side of the forsaken isle to stay away from the terrifying Pirate Zeff. His hands had shaken as he drew them up to his chest, but he mustered the nerves to string open the sack Zeff had thrown at his feet. Once he had counted out the cans, he offered all the food to you.

He wanted you to stay alive far more than himself. Ever since you had landed on his ship he had been smitten, and his weary heart would beat its last under this smothering sun as long as you would live on for the both of them.

To keep him calm: to stop his gasping, tortured heaves as he tried his best not to writhe in panic at the thought of never stepping back on safe land again, you would spent most of those 85 days sitting over the cragged edges. Sanji couldn't tear his eyes away from peering down at the gushing shards of stone below that seemed to rip up in tides and tear for his swinging feet; to try and distract him from sniffling any longer, your hand would tentatively creep over the rock until it landed flatly, and unceremoniously on top of his own. His fingers flexed beneath your own, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he folded them upwards, giving your hand a shaking squeeze: a dutiful promise, a flitting confession of love, that you just happened not to feel in your ruminations of the circumstances.

In fact, he asked you that night, in an uncharacteristically quiet and bashful voice, if you would keep his nightmares away by holding him like his mother used to. You felt terrible: you were so stunned that for a moment you stood with the last piece of mouldy bread you had in your hand in shocked silence. Poor Sanji thought you were about to reject him outright: throw what little he had left of his heart - that he had so carefully lifted out and placed in his hands to offer to you, only to have it thrown back to his feet in the usual ridicule he got for his love. His bottom lip began to tremble, until you nearly knocked him onto his bottom with how fast you dropped everything and flew over to lock him in a tight hug, not minding the fact that your shoulder was growing wetter and wetter despite the brewing rain each time Sanji buried his snivelling head against it.

So you would let him rest safely in the bracket of your arms: his left cheek resting in the warm stretch between your collar bone and your neck, his right hand draped leisurely around your waist as you told him stories of pirates and treasure: of the Deep Blue and tropical fish that shone like bursts of fragmented starlight every time their fins graced the water. Although he would groan any time you removed your hand from where you were stroking the wet strands of his hair back from his forehead, it was quickly replaced with wonderment as you would point up at a cluster of stars and whisper excitedly: 'look, there's some now!'

He had never been afraid of nights ever since that moment, not when the stars were still out and he could trace with the butt of his cigarettes the fish you had drawn specially for him in the skies. It was like a secret message: a lover's reminder that he was never alone. That you were always with him. That your beauty - your light, it shone everywhere, no matter where he was.

It was the first time he had kissed you, two forgotten children lost underneath the dripping crevice of your little hideaway. As your belly began to rise and fall underneath his elbow, and he believed you had exhausted yourself out after trying to make him feel better, he dared to dart up from your shoulder and press his lips firmly against your cheek. It had been quick, almost gliding past time like a dolphin leaping up out of the water, but it had meant so much to him that he curled up into a ball in your side and flushed a bright cerise, having to shove his fist into his mouth to stop his manic giggling from waking you up.

But you weren't asleep, and as Sanji settled back into your neck with a smile bright enough to rival the shine of buttercup petals, you swore as he began to drift off in the first peaceful dream he had had in years that one day you would return the favour, but in full.

The two of you were thick as thieves growing up, to the point where Zeff became so distracted by your antics that he often tried to separate the two of you by making you work the floor and Sanji either in the kitchens, or off fishing at the docks. Ten seconds later though, he'd be kicking through the kitchen doors again to find you leaning on the kitchen counter next to an eager faced Sanji, whose to busy to register Zeff's shouting. Instead he places the spoon to your lips, having spent half of lunch service prep cooking you a brand new recipe he had spent the whole night creating out of a medley of your favourite foods. He subconsciously licks his bottom lip, the tension in the room felt by the other chefs who try to carry on washing pans and cutting vegetables enough to put everyone on edge as Sanji refused to look anywhere but your lips. Holding his hand under your chin, his dipped eyes were broken by a sudden grin as a loud 'mmhhh' left your mouth and you chewed in sweet bliss.

Still ignoring Zeff's increasingly erratic rant, as Sanji goes to start cleaning up his pan you slide down to stand behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around your back and jutting your chin into his shoulder blade like a baby koala. You can tell he's laughing silently by the way his shoulders shake against you, but all he does is pull up your hand from his belly button to press sweet, dainty kisses up and down the lengths of your fingers, before dropping it down to press your palm flatly against his heart.

'I think that might be your greatest dish yet, buttercup!'

'From you, that means everything my precious heart.'

'Why do you call me that?', you murmur, refusing to lift your lips from his shirt.

'Well my sweet love, why do you call me buttercup? I mean, I always know I smell of butter and the likes-'.

He's distracted by your snort against the side of his neck, but the two of you are too love-strikingly embarrassed to say anything again. Even if neither of you could see the warm peach rushing up both your cheeks, Zeff could. He could also hear the padding thuds of Sanji's heart as he gripped his fingers that almost imperceptibly bit tighter around your hand, and he found himself sighing at how oblivious you two idiots were.

Sanji is definitely just as clingy as you, if not more so. You've definitely met your match in this man. I mean, any time you're out on the floor, handing out bread to tables and scanning the room to check if there were any patrons you may have to throw out by the scuff of their collars later, his eyes are trained on yours. He leans against the banisters, not even trying to remotely hide how obviously he's tracing your path with a dumbstruck, lit up smile. If you're in the kitchens, desperately trying to bite your tongue and not tear Zeff a new one as he chops his hands together and rushes you to plate up? He's sliding up to your side in an instant, throwing scathing looks at the man while trying to help you spoon thyme onto your bass, nuzzling the side of his head into yours encouragingly. If you have any free time at all? Sanji is fast on your heels, darting after you like someone's firing shots at his dress shoes, as if you have his heart tied to a string on your wrist as he seeks out whatever nook you're going to relax in. It doesn't matter if you're at the bar, watching the docks, or trying to hide from Zeff in one of the cupboards in the pantry: Sanji is squatting down and grunting as he shoves himself in right next to you. He sits criss cross, only satisfied when at least one of his knees is resting heavily over yours, and he has full access to watch what you're reading over the side of your neck.

He only fully settles, though, if you touch him in some way. He genuinely will begin mewling once your hand reaches over to brush your knuckles over his jawline, or your hand finds itself guided to bunch itself up in his hair. One time, he guided your hand into his lap, and you began to absentmindedly stroke your pointer finger along the seam of his inner thigh. Thank goodness you had your head buried in a book one of the pirate crews had come to swap some dried meats with you for, because it took every muscle in Sanji's body twitching: every finger clenching and unclenching into his knee until he drew blood not to knock you flat right there and then and kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

He gets a MASSIVE nosebleed - so gushing, in fact, that he tries to reassure you he's fine as you hold him by the elbows and lead his tilted back head and pinched nose down to Zeff for some help.

It becomes a very major recurring issue every time he looks at you. He makes sure to carry a handkerchief in his breast pocket from then on.

God, if he didn't love you more than anything in all the seas. If you weren't the only one that he let see past his charming nature: if you weren't the only person left in his life that truly could recognise the young boy left in his eyes, in his gait, in his smile, in his dreams. That little kid on that great big ship, the one who had found you stowed away behind one of the barrels of rum, and instead of calling for the crew had taken your trembling hand and led you into the kitchens, introducing you as his newest sous chef. That same kid, who stood beside you and held your hand so gently, so heartbreakingly gently under his as he guided you through lessons of chopping onions and sautéing garlic, breaking out into long strings of rushed, praising French every time you got it right. The same one, who would frown as if he were the one who had been hurt any time you burnt your hands or sliced your fingers. Who would unravel the knot at the back of his apron, and tug it over his head to carefully place it over yours.

'This always brings me luck', he would say as his fingers daintily tucked the strings underneath your shirt collar. 'But I don't need it anymore, because you've brought me all the luck and happiness a man could ever dream of, my cherie.'

The same kid who would tip toe out of his bed to sneak down to your hammock, crawling in and burying himself underneath your blankets where you slept in the brig, telling you fantastical stories about his mother until you fell sound asleep. He would watch you from where he lay on his side, hands folded by your head, as if you had hung every star in the wide skies. He would brush his fingers over the edge of your cheek and curl up beside you, wishing that every minute of every day of the rest of his life could be spent with you.

Yeah, smitten wasn't enough to cover it. Only destiny could be raw enough to draw the two of you to each other, Sanji always thought.

As teenagers, you would end every shift outside, sitting on the wonky boards of one of the jutted docks. Just sitting side by side, as you always wanted to be, pretending you weren't playing a game of chicken as the two of you teased and pressed and glanced your fingers over each other's, leaning back and looking up at the stars. Sanji always appreciated the better chance it gave him: shrouded in naught by wisps of moonlight and the rare flashing neon of ship string lights, to take you in as much as he could. You didn't mind the fact that he spent the whole time staring over at you. In fact, if you hadn't been so lovestruck, you might have found the courage to tear your head away from the horizon to meet the look of gut-wrenching devotion that always seemed to pour out of his eyes and beam only on you. It always felt like warm sunlight, sitting next to him, and so you finally dared a chance at grabbing his fingers and intertwining them between your own, pretending it was because of the sea chill spraying a fine mist over your legs.

Again, the squeeze he gave your hand was almost, almost imperceptible, but you felt it this time. And you could feel the look of enduring devotion he pierced into your skin, a warm tingle washing like a spring tide through your tired body.

He always knew. He always knew that if he had stayed on that rock, he would have been content to. Happy, even. Because he would have been with you.

'I love you', he said without words. He gave your hand another squeeze. 'I'm going to love you forever. No matter how many lifetimes. No matter who I am. I'm always going to find you, and I'm always going to love you.'

His voice nearly made you jump, surprising you at how it started with his usual buttery smoothness, before cracking with a thick gulp as his words trailed of. 'Never leave without me.'

'I promise, as long as you don't leave without me.'

He shakes his head. 'You never leave me. Not even for a moment.'

Sometimes, when the two of you are older, he still comes stealing into your room at night, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as his lips wobble into a frightened frown. Turns out, as he draws the covers back and comes reaching in for you, he had another nightmare that pirates had come to steal you away from him again. With an aching sigh for how stricken he looked, how desolate, you let him claw at your shirt and bury his head into the side of your neck until the rest of the world melted away.

He kissed you again, that night. When the feel of his legs strewn familiarly between your own began to burn against his skin, and the weight of hand perched over his thrumming heart became too heavy to bear in secret. With nothing but the light streaming like shards of pearly stars through the porthole to betray a moment so special, so longed for, Sanji let his eyelashes flutter close as he slowly... slowly pressed his lips against your cheek again.

This time, his eyes widened in shock as the feeling of your hand gripping at his jaw and turning his face straight on to your own. Before he can even open his mouth in confusion, the sweet pressure of your lips pressed against his top one. For a moment, Sanji doesn't move an inch: doesn't even breath, not even processing that the thing he’s spent every moment of his waking and sleeping life wishing for ever since he found you on that boat was actually happening, right here right now. He tries really hard to stop his whole body from shaking, as his silky lashes finally falter shut against the top of your cheeks and he tries to focus his whole attention on the way your plush lip seems to press so perfectly against his own.

When he finally pulls away, he lets out a loud 'OW' as he pinches his arm.

'What did you do that for!?'

'I had to double check this wasn't a dream, my sweets!'

And then he's on you again, like a ravished man gasping for air. God, he wasn't sure if soulmates were real, but when your top lip pulled down against his, and he could feel the thud of your heart synch against his own beneath the tips of his fingers, if he didn't know that he was yours.

He stays in your room a lot more often after that, using it as an excuse for you to help him button up his shirt during sleepy mornings, smiling at the feel of your fingers as they knocked against the muscles of his chest. It was also his favourite part of the day - the good morning kiss the two of you shared before you raced down to be at your shifts before Zeff decided to knock your heads together.

One time you forgot to give him one, too distracted by one of the sous chefs busting into your room with a bloodied nose and a chipped front tooth, whistling through the gap as he begged you to come down to the main foyer and help him break out a fist fight that had started between two gangs of rival pirates. The pout on Sanji's face that day was enough to make even the most bounty-heavy pirate's knees tremble. Every other chef steered way clear of his station, watching the arch of his back and the jaw in his muscle jump as he busied himself by frying his steak of tuna, so gutted at the loss of just one kiss. Not angry, no: just grief stricken, because this man seriously just adores you that much.

When you finally get your lunch break, the first thing you do is throw your napkin down on the kitchen ground and grab Sanji by his suit collar, enjoying the surprise tilt of his head as he drops his spoon onto his serving tray and allows you to lead his feet backwards to the fire exit. As soon as he's outside, you slam him gently against the wooden beams of the Baratie restaurant, and kissed him silly to make up for it. His look of trusting confusion suddenly melt into jumping heart eyes when your knee slides up between his thighs to try and pin him in place. His breathing comes out in harsh, shallow gasps between ferocious kisses, and you have to press him back against the wall every time he comes arching forward to follow your head for even more kisses. No, this was about you making him feel good. And by goodness, as your tongue pressed against the seam of his lips and tentatively ran over his front teeth, if he wasn't two seconds away from falling to his knees right there and then.

When you let him go, he slides down the wall like putty until he's sitting with legs stretched out and both his suit and hair a ruffled mess. He's literally never been more deliriously happy in his whole life.

Your favourite time of the day is when the restaurant closes, and the two of you finally have the kitchens to yourselves. Once you've tossed your aprons back onto the rack with a tired sigh, the only thing that can cheer you up is the sound of Sanji kicking his chair back with the toe of his shoe, and the sight of him beckoning you over to him with that tilted head and pearly beam of his. Mmh, how safe you feel, how loved as you collapse down to sit on his knees, and he tucks you in between the brackets of his arms in a vice so tight it could match any Marine knot.

You take one of his hands off the pen he was holding, turning his palm round to face you so you could fiddle with the rings he was wearing. You draw one up, curling his finger before your eyes, before slotting one off and sliding it onto your own ring finger. It was the one his father had given him: one he so loathed to wear, and yet felt guilt bore down too heavily on his conscious to ever take it off. You turned the one on top of it, one you know Zeff had given him after his first day working at the Baratie, and you smiled at the memory.

'You know', you start, still fiddling with his hand, feeling him shift his thighs as you pressed a gentle kiss on the pointer finger you were currently grasping onto. 'I may just have to keep this one.'

'Oh yeah?', he says dreamily, and you could feel his grin growing as he hid his burning face in the nape of your neck. 'Don't worry sweetheart. One day, once I find the perfect one, I'll give you a ring of your own.'

The two of you sneak out and share cigarettes out the back door a lot, where Sanji steps forward and kisses you like a man possessed every time you pinch the stub from out of his mouth and draw it along your bottom lip teasingly. When you try to get him to go back in, he just wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, spinning you around to stop you from leaving him alone. Laughing, you try to shove him off, swatting at the hands that form a tight clasp over your belly button, until his large fingers finally slide down to hold your waist. You glance behind you, smirking at the way his eyes are tightly shut in euphoria as ducks down, chest nearly enveloping in his desperation to reach your face again. His kisses become sloppier: smoke stained as they leave wet trails up your jaw, before he finally gives in and tries to make you laugh one last time by nibbling at the lobe of your ear.

Whenever he has a fight with Zeff, you have to hold him afterwards. The feel of your fingers curling the hair at the nape of his neck, or rubbing soothing circles into the sore muscles of his shoulders stops the furious darts of air from flaring his nostrils almost immediately.

Man has blaring heart eyes 100% whenever he's in a fight with rowdy customers, and you get to kick the flashy knife out of the last one's hand before the pirate could launch straight for Sanji's neck. He tilts his head at you with those amazed eyes, a gentle smile growing almost shyly on his face like a secret wink, before he throws his now empty plate at the pirate trying to sneak up behind your back. The crash echoes out through the booth area, a cry so furious: so full of rage that anyone would try and dare hurt you, that it makes all the remaining pirate crews crawl out towards the door on their hands and knees.

Stitching each other up afterwards is a motherfcking mess though, that Zeff straight up just abandons all hope of being able to use his kitchen. With a defeated rub of his pounding temples, he lets the door slam shut on his heel because he just can't deal with the two of you. He'd much rather pick up a brush and start sweeping bits of crushed and splattered asparagus off the floors than have to watch you to battle it out in a stiff competition of who could be more sickeningly, maddingly in love with the other. Between you standing between Sanji's entrapping thighs, closing you in tighter so you could have full access to kiss his bobbing Adam's apple as you use a rag to swipe bits of dry sauce off his neck, and him throwing his head back and whimpering, Zeff was going to go insane. Even worse, as soon as you're finished, Sanji's reaching between your fingers to lick split consomme off your nose.

The two of you are literally insufferable, and if every one apart from Zeff doesn't find it the cutest thing I-

When Luffy comes and wrangles Sanji into joining his crew, the chef's first thought is to be distraught. He seeks you out straight away, nearly breaking some poor fisherman's pole as he tries to hurdle over it and grip onto your shoulders, making you drop the barrel of dried meats you were carrying from Luffy onto the planks and watching Luffy nearly dangle off the edge of his ship to stop it from rolling into the ocean.

'Y/n- I- I can't go!'

'You're hardly scared!'

'I'm not scared of going, I'm terrified of going without you!'

You let him pour his heart out for a moment, before stopping his rambling, near sobbing mess of a sentence by bopping the tip of his nose. You giggle, swiping some hair from his forehead. 'Sanji, Luffy asked me to come first. I promised I wouldn't go without you, and I meant it.'

You manage to unlatch his twitching hand from your left shoulder, and give it an almost imperceptible squeeze. The tears that threatened to fall from his eyes finally cascade down, although he's so relieved that he's smiling through the blurriness. You swipe them away with your free thumb, finally, after all these years, feeling the squeeze of your hand that Sanji gives you back, before he envelops you in a breath taking hug.

'Awww, you guys are so sweet!', Luffy calls out from where he's hanging by his sandal off the railing of his ship. 'But could someone give me a hand before my hat falls into the waves? That would not be very cool.'

The first thing the two of you do once you're on The Going Merry is to find your bunk. Sanji isn't very subtle when he kicks your door shut with his heel, and comes scampering towards you like an upended sand crab, pinching for you until he's hefted you up over his shoulder and has unceremoniously landed you in your shared hammock. He's quick to jump in, straddling you as the hammock sways back and forth with the commotion.

He nearly starts crying again when he sees a flash of silver poke out from underneath your neckline; he grazes his hand over the chain, recognising it as his father's ring you had taken months ago. The one he had hated so much. The one you had tried to save him from. A small piece of him. A weight you tried to bear for him. A reminder of how much he was loved.

A confused Zoro, not realising there are new crew members on board, follows the sound of Sanji's voice crooning out how much he adores you, and how he loves you more than every star in the sky, down past the window on your bedroom door. Let's just say, he's not very impressed when he catches sight of the hammock swinging wildly from side to side, and an array of clothes thrown out and discarded in a mess around it.

[xxsabitoxx]

Karaoke | 15k Special

Satoru x Suguru x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, MxMxF threesome, snowballing, blow jobs, pussy eating, dick riding, creampies, accidental voyeurism

A/N: Two out of five threesome specials down! Three more to go! Up next is Shino/Mitsu! ✨Lesbianism✨

Word Count: 3.1k

You slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning into Suguru as you tried to stifle your laughter. Satoru’s singing was god awful, but that wouldn't stop the man from pouring his heart into it while the two of you fell apart on the couch. Every voice crack was vibrating the sound proof walls and sending you into a new fit of giggles. “Ya know…” Suguru spoke softly, just loud enough to be heard over Satoru’s singing. “We could totally fuck with him…” you looked up at him, sitting up immediately as a smirk grew on your face. “Yeah? Walls are soundproof right?” You were already getting up, creeping behind the white haired man as he started singing off key again. 

Suguru watched in amusement, waiting to see what you’d do first before getting up to provide back up. As Satoru’s arms raised in a dramatic way, your arms snaked around his midsection, earning a surprised yelp straight into the microphone. You began to laugh again, hands sneaking under the hem of his baggy white shirt. “What are you doing?” He wheezed, head tilting back to look at the devious grin on your face. “Nothin, keep singing Sa-to-ru~” you practically purred, hands coming up to graze his nipples and earn a sharp inhale, just barely picked up by the mic. Behind you, Suguru clicked his tongue, getting up to make his way over to the two of you as the music continued to play. 

“Now this won’t do…” he plucked the mic from Satoru’s grasp, holding it to his lips as you continued to roam his torso. “Keep singing, Satoru.” Brown eyes met blue in a heated stare, a shaky nod coming from Satoru as he tried to refocus his attention on the music. It was no use though, your hands were playing a very dangerous game, pulling every thought from his mind as he tried to read the lyrics. “Aw, looks like you got lucky.” Suguru chided, grinning as the song came to an end. The three of you were left in silence. “Looks like we’ll be able to hear you loud and clear now, Satoru.” Your  hand slithered upwards, rolling one of his nipples between your thumb and forefinger. A shaky gasp echoed through the speakers.

“Good boy, Satoru.” Suguru’s words came out in a low, rumbling tone, making both you and Satoru shiver at the praise. “Do you want to suck him off, Suguru? Or do you want me to do it?” You cooed, pressing your cheek into Satoru’s back as you continued to pinch and tug his nipples. “How about you suck him off, pretty girl. I wanna see him struggle.” The promise in his tone had you smiling, pulling away from Satoru all together and grabbing his arm to guide him to the leather couch. “Just relax, Satoru. We locked the door and everything, nobody will hear your cute little noises.” you grinned as he sat down, cock already twitching to life as Suguru sat beside him. Suguru slung one arm over his shoulders, holding the mic just below his mouth. 

Both men watched you get on your knees, hands shaking with anticipation as you undid the button and zipper of Satoru’s jeans. “So excited already, all y/n did was pinch your nipples. What a sensitive little slut you are, Satoru.” Suguru drawled, watching you fish Satoru’s cock out of the confines of his briefs. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as Satoru’s cock was exposed, fully hard now and leaking with precum. “You can’t even pretend you don’t like this.” You laughed, straightened on your knees to hover over his cock. You stuck your tongue out, letting saliva drip off it and watching as it landed on the bulbous head of Satoru’s tip. A low groan vibrated his throat, eyes squeezing shut as the noise echoed and amplified on the surround sound speakers. 

Satoru said nothing, practically dizzy with the waves of arousal coursing through him. You wrapped your fingers around him, squeezing him tightly until he nearly doubled forward, moaning loudly into the mic. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together, body feeling warm as you began pumping him. Your eyes flickered to Suguru, noticing the straining bulge in his sweats as he watched your fist glide over Satoru’s length. “Tell me, Satoru, how bad do you want this?” You asked him with a smirk, watching as Suguru made sure to hold the mic right to his lips before speaking. “F-Fuck…” Satoru shivered as his voice was amplified “...so bad. Fuck I want it so bad, suck my cock please…” For some reason, he was starting to really like this. 

Suguru cursed under his breath, smirking a bit at Satoru’s shameless attitude. You couldn’t think of anything to say in return, finding his answer more than fulfilling. You settled down on your knees again, hand holding him upright as you locked eyes with him. Carefully, you liked up the side of his shaft, tracing the veins with your tongue and stopping just before the tip. You repeated that same motion three more times before switching to kisses. Over and over you placed sloppy kisses on his shaft, his tip, his thighs, even reaching up to move his shirt and kiss his abdomen. You didn’t stop until he was panting into the mic, precum dripping over your knuckles as you continued to hold his cock straight.

Finally, with two pairs of eyes glued to you, you wrapped your lips around his angry red tip. You lavished him with your tongue, moaning as the salty and slightly bitter precum coated your tastebuds. “Oh fuck…” Satoru whined, fist tightening as they gripped the side of Suguru’s sweats. Still, the sounds echoed in the loudspeakers. You lapped at his slit, collecting the arousal that oozed there before relaxing your jaw to take more of him. Satoru’s breathing audibly stuttered as you sunk all the way down on his length, not stopping until your nose brushed the coarse white hair at his base. Just as quickly as you took him in, you were pulling back, trying to find a good rhythm to bob your head at. 

Moans began tumbling from his lips, cheeks flushed red as his head fell back. Dutifully, Suguru’s hand followed Satoru’s mouth, keeping the mic within distance to pick up every noise. You felt suffocated by your own clothing, tugging your cardigan off and throwing it to the floor without missing a beat. Only wearing a tank top alleviated some of the heat, but you were too focused on getting Satoru off to bother with any other clothing. “Oh fuck I’m close…” he grounded out, the mic picking up the steady vibrations in his throat as he moaned your name. Your hand reached up, cupping his balls through his briefs and massaging them roughly. A breathy gasp of your name left Satoru’s lips as his head fell back, crying out loudly as he spilled into your mouth. 

You pulled off of him with a slick pop a moment later, sticking your tongue out for both men to see. Satoru’s pearly white release pooled on your tongue, both men seemed completely enthralled by the sight until you placed your hands on Satoru’s thighs, pushing upwards and pressing an open mouth kiss right to his lips. Always willing to indulge, Satoru’s lips parted as his hands found your waist, letting you spill some of his own release on his tongue. Suguru watched, hand coming down to squeeze his cock through his sweats to ease the pressure. As you both pulled away from one another, Satoru grinned. “It’s only right that I get payback, huh?” You weren’t given a chance to think before you were being lifted and pressed into the leather couch. 

Satoru had quickly situated himself on the floor before you, just as you had moments prior. Suguru took the initiative and scooted closer to you, arm wrapping around your shoulders with a smirk. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Sugu.” you chided, forcing a pout as you lifted your hips for Satoru to slide your pants and underwear down. “I am on your side, but I’m on Satoru’s side too.” He smirked, dangling the mic in front of you. “You’ll sound even better than Satoru did over the loudspeakers, pretty girl.” You looked away, face feeling warm as Satoru’s hands spread your thighs apart. “Look how turned on you got just from sucking me off, so cute…” you tried to stifle the whine that left your lips as he dragged two fingers between your lips, coating them in your shiny arousal. “Oh…” you squirmed as his fingers bumped your clit.

Your own voice echoed back at you, making your eyes squeeze shut as you tried to hide your face in Suguru’s shoulder. “Ah Ah, you’re not hiding from us.” Suguru’s voice echoed on the mic as well, making your body feel hot all over as you questioned if the room was truly sound proof. You swallowed your pride, turning to watch Satoru as he continued to play with your pussy. “Do you want me to finger fuck you? Or do you want my mouth? You need to tell me, sweetheart.” Satoru practically purred, as if he wasn’t the one at your mercy moments prior. “Y-your tongue, Sato… I want your tongue.” You whined into the mic, earning a low groan from Suguru as Satoru’s tongue slid out to wet his plump lips. “As you wish, sweetheart.” His head dipped lower, tufts of white hair tickling your inner thighs as he placed kisses along your folds.

Your fingers tightened on Suguru’s thigh, unknowingly doing what Satoru had done to him. That little motion made Suguru smirk, grabbing your wrist with his free hand and placing it over the outline of his cock straining below his sweats. You whined, legs spreading a little further as Satoru’s tongue slipped between, lapping at your clit and sending sparks of electricity up the base of your spine. You stared at him, lips parted as the mic picked up every ragged breath you took, watching his nose slide against the front of your public bone, inhaling deeply. “Jesus fuck, Satoru.”  you gasped into the mic, unable to contain your shyness as he shamelessly inhaled you. 

“He likes putting on a show for you.” Suguru murmured, slightly strained as you squeezed the outline of his cock roughly. Satoru only smiled, tongue sliding down lower to prod at your entrance. This time it was his nose bumping your clit, piercing blue eyes boring into yours as he watched you steadily lose your composure. You could feel it, drool and arousal steady slipping down to pool on the cheap red leather of the couch, puddling against your ass. “Fuck…” you whined again, the loudspeakers throwing it right back at you. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” Suguru murmured, trying to ignore the wet mark starting to grow on his gray sweats. “Y-yeah… shit S-Satoru… gonna cum…” You moaned, face on fire as your hips jerked upwards. You could feel it building steadily, if he continued as he was now, you’d be coming all over him in seconds. 

“Don’t stop, Satoru. She was so kind as to let you cum.” Suguru teased, but there was a level of command to it, one Satoru wouldn’t dare disobey as you moaned his name. Your grip tightened significantly, earning a low moan from Suguru as your other hand found its home in Satoru’s hair. Both men were making noises along with you, loud enough to be picked up on the mic and echo in the tiny karaoke room. Your walls clenched around nothing, pushing you over the edge as you cried out into the mic, coming on Satoru’s tongue with a wave of sweet arousal. He moaned against you, lapping greedily at every drop of honey you offered him. It took you a moment to realize your ears had begun ringing, a tired laugh tugging from your chest as it subsided. “Well…” you smiled down at Satoru, watching him pull away from your cunt with one last kiss before smirking up at you with shiny lips. “Two down, one to go.” 

You both turned to look at Suguru, the devious grins on your face making him stiffen as you pulled the mic out of his hands. “Didn’t think you were getting out of this without the same sort of embarrassment, did you, Suguru?” Satoru gloated softly, voice condescending as you handed him the mic. Suguru said nothing, cheeks turning a shade of pink as you moved to straddle him with shaky legs. “It’s your turn to make pretty noises for us, Su-gu-ru~” You drawled out his name just as you had with Satoru, smiling as his eyes looked everywhere but you for a moment. Always one to act big and tough, like he was always in control. But Suguru crumbled like a drying sand castle the moment you and Satoru teamed up on him. 

He couldn’t help it, you were both his biggest weakness.

You raised your hips, tugging down his sweats and underwear quickly and letting his cock spring free. “Damn.” you commented softly as Satoru took a seat beside Suguru on the couch, mimicking what he had done by slinging an arm over his broad shoulders. “Fuck, that probably hurts, huh?” Satoru grinned, holding the mic by Suguru’s lips as the two of you observed his cock. It stood proudly, tip flushed an angry read as precum covered the entirety of it. You had noticed the small stain on his pants before tugging them down, making you feel all the more smug as you wrapped your hand around him. Suguru’s huff of relief sounded over the speakers, making his eyes shut momentarily before reopening them to watch you pump him a few times. “Take him all at once, sweetheart, you’re wet enough.” Satoru encouraged you with a wicked grin. 

“Alright, if you insist.” You smiled back, hearing Suguru’s breathing stop for a moment as you angled him at your entrance. “Don’t hold back.” Was all you said to him before dropping your hips down on him. Both of you gasped, Suguru was amplified over the speakers, nearly drowning you out. Your walls spasmed around him, velvety heat suctioning to every inch of him as he stretched you open. “Oh fuck.” he gasped out, head falling back as his hands found your hips to keep you still. “Your pussy never gets old.” He groaned, no longer embarrassed by the fact that everything was being blasted on loudspeakers. “Suguru!” You squealed a bit, earning a laugh from Satoru as his eyes flickered between the two of you. “It’s the truth, pretty girl.” He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he slowly lifted his head back up to look at you. 

“Ride me, please. Fuck I need you to move so bad, pretty girl.”  his pupils were blown wide, flickering between your face and where your cunt was swallowing his cock whole. “Say it again.” you murmured, needing to hear his breathy voice through the loudspeakers again. “Ride me, please. Pretty girl, I need you to ride me.” You gasped, lifting your hips half way before dropping them down again, shivering at the feeling of his girth spreading you open over and over. Suguru’s head fell back against the couch, jaw slack as he watched himself disappear and reappear inside of you over and over. It took a minute but soon enough there was a slick squelch every time your hips dropped back down, arousal collecting at the base of his cock and disappearing into the thick dark hair along his pubic bone. 

Satoru watched with flush cheeks, getting an idea as the squelching only got louder. He moved the mic from Suguru’s lips, instead reaching down to hover it where you and Suguru’s bodies became one. Now, you could really hear everything, your head falling forward in embarrassment as you continued to drive your hips down on Suguru. It seemed to have the opposite effect on the two men, Suguru’s hands grabbing your waist hard to pull and push you down on him at an even quicker pace. “Fuck… so good, you’re so good.” You couldn’t contain your noises as Suguru praised you endlessly, Satoru’s eyes watching you intently as you started to fall apart. “Fuck…” You choked out again, hand slipping down your front to toy with your clit until Satoru’s hand swatted yours away. “Let me…” he breathed out, two fingers slipping down to rub circles. 

Your walls clenched around Suguru’s length, gripping him like a vice as your hips stuttered. “Gonna cum… gonna cum…” Suguru grounded out, head falling forward to focus on Satoru’s fingers between your legs. “Cum with me, please? Wanna feel you cum with me.” Suguru panted, eyes flickering to Satoru. “Make her cum, please.” Satoru huffed out a laugh, fingers rubbing a little quicker as your whines turned to quiet pants. “Come on…” Suguru groaned, cock twitching violently as dull nails dug into your waist. “O-oh.. fuck fuck fuck…” You choked, walls sputtering around Suguru’s length as you came hard. Suguru followed after you within a second, hot release spurting into you. Your hips dropped down all the way, earning a sharp inhale from Suguru as his tip pressed into your cervix. 

“Well, that was fun.” Satoru chimed, watching the two of you come down from your highs as he went to put the karaoke mic back on the stand. You collapsed into Suguru’s chest, feeling him soften inside of you as he panted. “Oh… oh no.” Satoru froze, eyes locked on the corner of the room. “Oh no?” you questioned, Suguru’s arms wrapping around your midsection to keep you in place. “Yeah, oh no… we gotta leave.” he sounded a little panicked but there was laughter in his tone as well. “And why is that?” Suguru groaned, head lifting to see what Satoru could possibly be looking at. “There is uh… well… there’s a security camera in the corner… It's been recording this whole time.” Now, you were both stiffening, sitting up right to turn and look.

“You’re fucking kidding.” you yelped, cheeks flooding with warmth as you turned to look at Suguru. “Well, they probably got a good show…” he swallowed, cheeks turning red as he let you get off of him slowly. “We can never come back here.” Satoru laughed, grabbing some napkins off the table to help clean the mess slowly leaking down your thighs. “I don’t think they’ll even let us back here if we wanted to.” You watched Suguru pull his pants on, sticky arousal still covering him. “We should ask them for a copy of the recording.” Satoru chimed, watching both of you groan as you quickly made yourselves look presentable. “Satoru, shut up.”

[pastorpresent]

part 2 to this, but it's not necessary reading to understand this:) tw for panic attacks

-

Logan is going to find every motherfucking TVA agent and rip them methodically into a hundred little chunks, which he's then going to serve to dogpool for her lunch.

He's just got to find Wade and get out of this stupid fucking warehouse first - and seriously, dingy old warehouse for an evil fucking lair? Get creative for once, jesus christ.

The thing was, this mission was supposed to be the definition of easy. The TVA just wanted them to catch some stupid deadpool variant, slap their cuffs on him and be done with it. Hell, Wade had even been looking up nearby lunch spots because they were so convinced they'd be done for then.

They weren't. The variant thing was a trap - which somehow completely went over the TVA's heads - and the place was actually an experimentation warehouse for mutants. They were baited there like fish to a hook, and Wade had been grabbed before either of them could fully grasp what was happening.

Wade was grabbed - and Logan was loosing his god damn mind, because he'd seen the uncharacteristic flicker of fear over the mercs face when they realised what this place was, watched Wade thumb through the paperwork with a tight expression, unsettlingly silent.

He understood. He'd been there, quite literally, but he had the small mercy of not remembering it so completely. His time spent chained to an experimentation table was mercifully shorter than Wades, and he only recalled brief flashes of it.

Wade had told him one night after a few too many drinks that he remembered his weeks in that warehouse vividly. Every second of it was etched into his brain like a branding, and if Logan had known that this mission would take them anywhere even slightly resembling that trauma he would've told the TVA to stick their mission so far up their ass they start choking on it.

He didn't, though, and now he was stuck hiding outside trying to figure out a way to get in there and grab Wade without getting caught himself. He needed back up, realistically.

It stung to call the X-Men. He hated doing it, because seeing them in this universe... it just reminded him of what he'd failed to protect. Of the team he'd essentially killed.

He'd gladly suck all of that up and toss his baggage aside if it meant helping Wade, though.

Even with their help (and their insistence on cuffing instead of murder) It still took a good half hour for them to clear the place.

Logan was growing antsy. He'd seen the sideways looks from Storm and Rogue as his murders grew more brash and violent, prioritising wiping the bastards out as rapidly as possible over doing so in a way which was... more composed and less bloody.

He'd killed about thirty. The team had cuffed and sedated the other lucky twenty, and had taken the... test subjects somewhere safe. Most of them were mutilated beyond looking like recognisable people, half alive, and honestly Logan thought they'd be better off just being put down and freed from their agony, but he didn't voice that. He didn't have time for a morals debate, not when the bastards have had Wade for almost a fucking hour.

"Wade!"

He was dipping in and out of every curtain, trying to find the idiot. His booming voice was echoing through the entire place, and so wherever he was he mustn't be conscious, or verbally able to respond.

Finally he pulled back a curtain and found him.

He was in a glass cylinder, strapped down with thick leather bindings, and was gasping for breath periodically as his skin burned.

An oxygen deprivation machine. The same type that gave Wade his mutation in the first place.

Those fucking sick bastards. He hoped that the team had gotten those men they cuffed the fuck out of here or Logan was going to chop off their fingers and make them eat them, then beat them to the point they were begging for death, and then he'd beat them some more and let them die from blunt force trauma, slowly and in agony on a dirty warehouse floor.

He surged forward, using his claws to bust holes in the machine, allowing immediate air flow while he figured out how to get the damn thing open.

He figured it out, the lid lifting, but something was wrong.

Wade was still gasping for air, his now free hands scratching at his neck desperately.

"Wade, breathe," Logan ordered a little harshly, grabbing the younger man's shoulders.

Big mistake apparently.

Wade was up in an instant, grabbing a nearby scalpel and driving it harshly into Logan's shoulder, his teeth bared and the air missing his usual cry of 'baby knife'.

"Wade, what the fuck are you-"

He was cut off by the medical scissors being thrown at his face, embedding deep into his cheek just below his eye, and fuck that hurt.

"Wade-" he grabbed him, trying to stop him from reaching for any more makeshift weapons, but Wade punched him hard in the face, driving the scissors deeper, and then proceeded to kick him in the balls.

Logan grunted at the impact, barely staying upright and releasing his grip in the momentary recovery.

Wade grabbed a gun from the side and started shooting recklessly, and Logan was painfully aware that some of the X-Men currently standing just a few flimsy curtains away were not as bullet proof as what he was.

He dove atop of Wade, tackling him to the floor, hissing with every bullet that the merc emptied into his torso.

"Wade, stop!"

"Get the fuck off me! Let me go!" Wade screamed, actually screamed at the top of his lungs, his breathing rapid and eyes hard but full of suffocating fear as he thrashed and struggled.

Logan felt horrible. He felt like the shittiest person on the planet, because Wade clearly had no idea what was happening in his panic, didn't recognise Logan or remember the circumstances, and he was terrified. Terrified of continued torture that was sure to come in his mind if Logan 'caught him', and he had no clue what to do.

"Wade it's me, alright? It's Logan. I'm trying to help you."

"I don't- get the fuck off me! Please! Just let me go!"

Wade was sobbing and begging, and from the grip Logan had of his lithe body he could feel his breathing growing shallower.

"I will, bub. I will, but I need you to put the gun down, alright?" Logan said carefully.

He wasn't going to let Wade come out of this having killed somebody he cared about accidently. He wasn't letting him be burdened by that guilt.

"I- I don't- please," Wade sobbed, and Logan swallowed thickly.

"Gun down, Wade," he repeated firmly, and this time he felt the barrel leave his torso and clatter onto the ground.

He continued to pin Wade down with just one arm as he grabbed the gun and tucked it into the back of his jeans.

"Good boy. That's good, thank you. I'm gonna let you up now, bub. Think you can stop trying to kill me for a second so we can talk?"

Wade whimpered softly, and nodded once in response.

Logan eased up on him gradually, rising to his feet and offering out a hand to help Wade do the same.

The younger man didn't take it, scrambling up by himself on shaky legs, taking a few stumbling steps backwards away from Logan.

That stung a little, but he understood. Wade clearly still didn't grasp who he was, and it was probably a very natural reaction to want distance between yourself and your conceived captor who had you pinned to the ground moments ago.

"Look at me, ok? You know me, bub. You know I'm not here to hurt you."

"I- I just want you to let me go. I just want to go home to Vanessa, please."

And maybe that one stung... a lot, more so than any of the sharp objects lodged into his body right now. He often worried about what his existence in this universe meant for Wade. He worried him being here, some sort of unnatural and inconvenient prescence, made it so Wade felt he couldn't truly go after what he wanted. A life with the girl, a few kids, a decent home.

Instead he got stuck with Logan, an alcoholic mess who could barely tolerate basic human interaction most days, and he knew Wade would argue that it was actually vice versa - that Logan was the one stuck with him - but it just wasn't true. Not when Wade was the one with a life he imposed on.

That day with Vanessa, when he'd just almost killed Wade from his own stupidity, rang clear in his head.

('You almost killed him, Logan! He could be dead right now because of you!' Vanessa screamed, voice thick with emotion.

Logan couldn't even bring himself to disagree, or defend himself.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. You know I didn't mean it,' he stressed, staring at Wade's limp body on the couch, his torso wrapped with blood stained bandages.

She looked at him too, and for a painful few moments, there was just heavy silence. It felt like a boot hovering over them, waiting to drop.

'You know, ever since you... appeared here, bad shit has happened. Wade's not himself, because he spends so much of his time on you. He's always in danger trying to drag your sorry ass to safety. It's not fair.'

The boot dropped, and squished him whole.)

"We can. I'll take you to her, but you need to settle down first, bub. Look at me?" Logan said, taking the tiniest of steps closer.

Wade didn't move back, which he took as a win, and he did finally stop his rapid searching to look at him.

"Good. Good job, think you can try match my breathing?"

Another step forward, this one intentionally impossible to avoid noticing, just to gauge Wade's response.

He looked uneasy still but didn't move, and nodded minutely.

Logan breathed in and out slowly, intentionally exaggerated and verbally guiding Wade through it.

It took several minutes, but eventually after calming down considerably, the confusion seemed to evaporate alongside the panic.

"Good boy, again, ok? 1...2...3...4.... exhale-"

"Logan?"

He could've just about collapsed with fucking relief. For a minute or two, he was growing worried that the temporary confusion and amnesia was from more than just the panic attack and the torture chamber. That those bastards had done something to erase his memories just like Stryker had done to him.

"Yeah, it's me, bub," he sighed, shoulders deflating.

"What- what happened?! They hurt you?" Wade hissed, marching into his space and pulling out the scalpel. He reached for the scissors but Logan grabbed his wrist to stop him, opting to ease those out himself.

"Well, you could say that," Logan shrugged, and Wade's brows knotted together, until it seemed the events of the last ten minutes hit him and he gasped, stumbling back and away from him.

Logan didn't know exactly what came over him. Maybe he just couldn't stand the idea of Wade slipping away from him again so soon, even on the most basic physical level.

He filled the space between them, grabbing Wade by his shirt and yanking him forward into a tight hug.

"I hurt you, I fucking shot you-"

"Isn't the first time, won't be the last. Don't you fucking apologise to me, you idiot - you can shove your apologies into that smart ass mouth of yours and swallow 'em," Logan warned, and Wade laughed, but it quickly dissolved into a muffled sob, his hands coming up to fist the back of Logan's shirt desperately.

"They- they-"

"Are gone. It's done. You're safe, unlike those fuckers at the TVA the next time I see them," he growled, and Wade let out another watery laugh, hiding his face away in Logan's neck.

"Take me home?"

"Glady, bub."

[lavandulawrites]

Beneath the Vessel

Yandere Sakamaki Reiji x reader

This was a request: “yandere Reiji Sakamaki x reader please! 💙💙”. This is definitely one of my favourite works I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!🤍 Reposted from my other blog: @cutelittlechiroptera

Synopsis: Obsession is brimming underneath the perfectly polished surface of the spectacled vampire.

Masterlist

Warnings: yandere, obsession

The table was set with the finest silverware and with elegant plates with dark blue flowers painted on with perfect precision. Lit candles were thoughtfully placed across the table. The room was dimly lit, with only lighting from the lamps that hung on the walls. The large curtains were open, giving the outside world a clear look inside the carefully crafted façade. The sky was moonless and the stars seemed dull, even so you couldn’t help but long for them in a way child would long for their mother.

At the head of the table sat the dark haired vampire. His attire was elegant and without even the tiniest specks of dust. His white dress shirt was almost fully buttoned up, save for the two upper buttons. His dark red waistcoat had an old watch hung from its pocket in an old fashioned way. Silver glasses were resting on his nose as his deep magenta eyes bored into your doe-like eyes.

Yet again he was able to read you like an open book. He pried you open and peered inside you as much as he liked, because there was nothing you could keep secret from him. You were a vulnerable thing and he cherished that dearly.

Reiji lifted his wineglass without leaving your eyes and took a sip. The bloody colour of the wine a reminder of who was sitting to your left. He swirled the wine and let the liquid swish like the unruly tides of the Japanese coast. You could picture yourself onboard a boat inside the red ocean. Struggling against the waves, trying to hold onto your life lest it would fall out of your control.

Your fingers found the stem of your wineglass and you clutched it. Your eyes didn’t leave his and you imagined what would happen if you broke the fragile glass. He would be sure to make your life hell on earth.

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” his dark voice oozing of authority. It was like lightning, crashing down into a fragile dying tree. Its branches breaking as a result of its strength and brutality. “Do you take me for a fool? Is that it? Have I not been perfectly clear?”

You swallowed and looked down, because you did not dare to face the wrath lurking within his beautiful magenta eyes that glared at you through silver spectacles. Your chest heaved irregularly as the sound of his cutlery stilled.

A storm was brewing, and you were in the midst of it with no escape.

“I told you specifically to not converse with a man without my presence. What if-” Reiji cut himself off, but his words hung in the air. What if the man had hurt you? Was the words the vampire had been meaning to say.

His anger was visible as you finally found the courage to look at him. Veins were popping out of his forehead and his neck. A furious redness had overtaken his usually pale skin and his eyes were small and laced with fear and fury.

You watched silently as he struggled with his conflicted emotions. He was furious, afraid and ashamed. He had no control over his feelings and that scared him. Greatly. You carefully reached out and touched his hand that was buried in his dark locks. You stroked his skin with a soothing circular motion. You watched as he gasped for air. It was the first time you had touched him gently willingly.

His eyes shot to yours as he gaped at you like a fish washed up ashore. Finally you had found foothold in the storm.

You leaned forward and whispered with a hushed tone “I’m alright, Reiji. It was just a polite conversation. You have nothing to worry about”.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly. His breathing was quick as he started at you. His mouth opened and closed as if he was unsure of what to say. Soft fingers brushed over his cheekbone.

You had finally gotten hold of the helm. The waves calmed, but the waters were still not clear of any dangers. Beneath your feet stirred a dark monster. It’s tentacles wrapped around the vessel, but still letting it sail. At least for now.