#just cuz it's so near and dear to my heart

[meamiiikiii]

mira !!! :]

[lain-at-the-gay-bar]

ooooh love to hear more about your oc Street racing 👀👀👀

WELL! theyre kind of a nice middle ground between a sona and an oc, so it isnt cringe that im basically imagining myself racing lolol :p

but yeah obvi theyre still pretty similar to me! grew up around car nerds, grew an interest in cars and (this is where i start making things up) fixed an oldtimer that was standing around. from there on i imagine theyd fall in love with driving oldtimers, buying and fixing them up themselves and always driving around with a trunk full of random parts for when something breaks (it always does)

from a young age theyve always participated in a car club, which is where their interest for racing started !

they have a tuned miata and a daf 55 for casual driving! and they dress up like crazyyyy for any kind of event be it a race, a meet or just going to the grocery store! they also looooove blasting nightcore while driving :]

[targaryenluvs]

OUR LITTLE DOVE

pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray

summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.

warnings: crazy lucy n corio conspiring like evil doers, manipulation, chasing, primal play?? is that what is called idk corio enjoys hunting your ass down, kidnapping, drugging, forced into accepting a third partner?? nc touching, abuse of power (peacekeeper), power dynamics, kinda cheating (lucy n corio), guilt-trip, jealousy, threatening, self doubt and relationship problems, murder, betrayal

word count: 3.0k

a/n: lol i complain about wanting to write fluff but all my good ideas r so dark 😭 someone needs to give me tips on how to write girls cuz i have no experience would be easier if i was gay boooo!!

he was like a shadow, stuck to your back, always.

you’d complained to lucy numerous times that you didn’t feel comfortable around him when she played at the hob, knowing he’d be there, in the crowd. “sweetie, he was my mentor. he helped me so much in the games, i wouldn’t be here without him. you love me don’t you? so you need to learn to love him too, he’s a good friend a mine. i love you and i gotta get to the stage baby.” she explained as she ran around getting herself and the covey ready.

you were always front row. wanting to be as close to lucy as possible. she looked especially majestic tonight with flowers in her hair. as you listened to her sing you’d managed to forget about the certain blonde peacekeeper near the back. but he hadn’t forgotten about you, nor lucy.

you’d left to get a drink and you’d came back to an unfamiliar tune. you usually knew every song being played off by heart but this was new.

Everyone's born as clean as a whistle

As fresh as a daisy

And not a bit crazy

Staying that way's a hard row for hoeing

she sounded as angelic as usual and the crowd around you seemed entranced.

As rough as a briar

Like walking through fire

This world, it's dark

This world, it's scary

lucy smiled at you once, just once. which threw you off since you usually got a bunch. especially during new songs and songs about you. was this not also about you?

I've taken some hits, so

No wonder I'm wary It's why

I need you

so it is about me! you thought as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sway to the music and singing. you’d hoped you wouldn’t miss a smile headed your way.

You're as pure as the driven snow

your eyes flew open as you stared at lucy, she was looking past you and to the peacekeeper. to coriolanus snow. you’d always been a rational person, you prided yourself on restraint but that restraint was hanging on by a thread. you wanted to jam a beer bottle into his neck. lucy was your girlfriend not his. and yet he smiled stupidly towards her as she sang and you could feel your heart clawing its way up. best to leave now rather than stay and hear more of the ever so driven man.

your head was spinning as you slumped to the floor, in one of your finest dresses yet worst mental states. of course, something had formed between the two. she was in the goddamn hunger games and he was her mentor. trauma bonding? he quite literally saved her life, coached her and you did what? sat at home and hoped.

hope could only get you so far.

your hope and faith in lucy gray baird was dwindling as her lyrics swirled in your head. of course she loved him. who wouldn’t? the man was undeniably eye catching. a capitol man. but you’d always imagined lucy staying away from the capitol, despising them. but maybe it wasn’t the captiol part but the man part. maybe she wanted a true life, a home, marriage and children and everything she could wish for.

what on earth could you provide her with?

“y/n?” it sure as hell wasn’t lucy calling out for you and you knew that. coriolanus’s reflection was prominent in the puddle before you as he neared. great, you sneered, would love to get to know you mr peacekeeper. please tell me how you stole my lovely girlfriend from me!

your chest felt oh so heavy as you heard his footsteps in the gravel, determined and unwavering as he made his way to your slumped body. “what do you want? you wanna gloat?” coriolanus stopped in his tracks, gloat? “why would i gloat?” you looked up at him annoyed, “rub it in my face. you practically stole my girlfriend from me.” coriolanus laughed. actually laughed and it made you want to strangle him with his stupid dog tags.

“sweetheart.” vomit. you wanted to vomit. maybe choking and dying on your vomit would be less embarrassing then this. why on earth was this fuck head calling you his sweetheart. “fuck off.”

you didn’t see him coming. and you certainly didn’t expect his demeanour to snap. but the large hand tangled in your open hair was a big slap in the face to your unreadiness. “you of all people don’t get to talk to me like that. do you know who you’re talking to?” you could hear his perfect porcelain teeth grinding at your words. god this man couldn’t handle an insult. wuss.

“what the hell is your- ow! problem!” you yelped as he dragged you into an alleyway. “you need to learn how to respect your superiors. if you’re nice to me, i can make your life easier. doesn’t it hurt? not being able to fully provide for your family? seeing them struggle? do you really think disrespecting a peacekeeper is going to help? i suggest you straighten your act and thank me for even looking your way. there are plenty of other girls here.”

but he didn’t want those other girls. he wanted you. you with the teary eyes and messy hair. you who he’d been seeing in his dreams and during the day. you with the kind smile and curious eyes. you who were so sweet and pretty but mean when need be. the y/n who was stupid enough to spit such hateful words at a peacekeeper. but he’d teach you. whether it be with words and lessons or actions and bruises. you’d learn your place, by his side and lucy’s, and underneath. but with such fearful, brown doe eyes watering up infront of him, the girl he’d heard oh so much about from lucy. how could he refrain from indulging?

his hand reached out to wipe away the few stray tears that fell as his left extended towards your right, which was clutching your head, where he’d grabbed you. “shh, let me help you.” your hand slowly retracted as your heart ran a marathon. the man was obviously unstable, going from a deceptively caring man to violent. coriolanus smiled at your actions, and it freaked you out. he caressed your scalp in an attempt to soothe, “good girl.” he cooed as your apparent saviour approached.

“sweetie?” lucy called out to you as coriolanus withdrew from your personal space. he walked over to her and she let him. he held her hand and spoke with, love? his voice was soft and comforting, his thumb again caressing the back of her hand as they talked, whispered, plotted? god knows, all you wanted was to leave.

was this your chance?

you tested the waters, slow and calculated movements as lucy nodded in agreement with him. but by the time they were done speaking you’d bolted.

but you sure as hell weren’t getting far with these two on your tail, poor y/n l/n. a little dove trying to spread her wings but they were bound to be clipped.

your feet were throbbing and begging for you to slow down. but your brain was in charge for once, your heart which yearned for your dear songbird pushed to the side as your head screamed and urged you to go. she was in league with him apparently. her seeing him corner you and not even batting an eyelash. did she truly care for you so little? did she want to rid herself of you? she could’ve broken up with you and let that be it. maybe the games had twisted her head.

even as you believed yourself to be gaining distance from the two you could hear the not-so distant steps of determined pursuit, headed your way. how would they kill you? slow and intimate? hasty and brutal?

“if you stop running now we won’t be mad little dove!” lucy shouted in warning as you felt yourself momentarily slow at her words. traitor. you thought to yourself as your body involuntary listened, she still had an affect on you. “she’s right, we love you, we won’t hurt you. unless we have to, don’t give us our reasons.”

“shut up!” you screamed. god, i know we haven’t talked in a while. last minute efforts right? maybe he’d listen to you, save you from your tormentors. you should’ve kept your head clear, focused on running. focused on your surroundings and if you had, you would’ve noticed the nearing tree roots, thick and protruding from the ground, ready to knock you down.

you crawled behind the tree, trying to catch your breath as your hands worked tirelessly to provide some form of relief to your aching ankle.

crack.

you’d been found. you fucked up.

“our little dove, ever the sprinter.”

his words had you lurching forwards in an attempt of fleeing but lucy’s cold hand on your ankle dragged protests and cries from your throat as well as you, back to them. “you should’ve listened before, we would’ve been nice. given you some time to adjust, but you can’t sit and think for a second can you?” coriolanus mocked as his hand trailed up your un-injured leg, “that’s okay, you won’t be doing much thinking from now on. we’ll be taking care of you, since you obviously can’t take care a’ yourself baby.” lucy’s voice was saccharine, like honey, and her smile was even sweeter. the familiarity and comfort of her presence was intoxicating, you felt at peace on one side and the other wanted to jump off a cliff. she lowered your guard and coriolanus slithered right in.

the prick in the side of your neck wasn’t painful, but their words were. “you’re with us now, we’ll take care of you, we promise.” and you were stuck, stuck with them for god knows how long.

you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, adjusting to the room. maybe they had killed you? in their own twisted way they’d keep you forever, in their memories and soul. coriolanus and lucy’s voices swam around your head and blended together. you were wrong. yay.

“it’s a bit early for katniss, even if it’s one of her favourites.”

“she should eat something better.”

“better? don’t go all capitol on me now corio.”

he was smiling, you could tell.

“never lucy gray. but she’ll be weak for a few days, proper meals will help her regain some strength.”

you picked your head up and looked through the window, the lake was evident.

“alright, you go grab it and i’ll stay here.”

“why? so you can get more time with her? if anyone should get extra time it’s me.”

“now who was her partner first? oh that’s right, me. you’re acting as if i’m gonna pick her up and run away. if you’re that scared than we’ll both go. take her with us.”

coriolanus’s head whipped towards the cabin and you quickly flopped back down on the bed. you shut your eyes as you heard the door creak open. “gosh, doesn’t she look pretty?” lucy asked, knowing the answer already. “so calm, i liked her better when she was crying.” lucy hit him, “coriolanus snow!” he stroked the side of your face and you had to resist from turning your head and biting his fingers off.

“little dove.” your eyes opened again, turning your head his way tiredly. “we need to get some supplies okay?” you nodded as lucy went outside to gather the baskets she’d left out earlier on to dry. coriolanus’s hand dug into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, “i told you i’d make you respect me. now listen, if you try anything when we’re in town i will never let you forget it. you’ll know who you belong to every single day. maybe i’ll pay your family a visit? an appointment with the hanging tree for being rebels? stealing?”

you shook your head violently as you began to cry, “you don’t want that? didn’t think so. you listen to me and everything will be fine. your family will get daily help and weekly groceries. they’ll never go hungry again. all thanks to their sweet little girl. lucy’s too nice, but don’t think for a second she’ll save you from me. you’re mine and if you try anything.” he leaned in to whisper, “i’ll strangle her with my bare hands infront of you.” his words were meant to scare you, and they did. but don’t you know? coriolanus snow doesn’t need a reason to do bad things.

coriolanus was wicked and ruthless when it came to what he wanted, if you had any hope of trying to get through this then you’d need lucy’s attention and help. so you nodded. “words sweetheart.” you swallowed your pride, your dignity, and you shook hands with the devil.

“yes, i’ll do what you say.” he straightened up, his white shirt a contrast to his dark thoughts.

“y’all ready to go?” lucy questioned as coriolanus grinned, “yes, yes we are.” he lifted you up and helped you dress, you hadn’t realised the fact that you were only dressed in his own white shirt, dress to you. he handled you like you were the most delicate object. as if he wasn’t hell bent on breaking you, over and over again. till you were fit to his standards. the captiol standards. the snow standards.

his, his, his.

with how obedient you were, he figured you’d do well in the capitol. which was exactly where he was meaning to bring you.

lucy walked in front of the two of you as you made your way through the woods. coriolanus’s hand was glued to your waist as he held you close, afraid to let go. you were at flight risk of course. his grip was tight and bruising. lucy’s humming distracted you at times, if you were delusional enough you could imagine it to be the two of you. your brothers far infront and the covey following. after an amazing afternoon at the lake, heading home for dinner, maybe a performance or the night shift.

your daydreaming was interrupted when you clocked coriolanus’s missing hand from your waist, and his arm now around lucy grays throat.

don’t you remember? you’d do well in the capitol! you were his! but not entirely, no.

not with her in the way.

you were frozen in place as lucy clawed at him before reaching out for you. a plea, a cry for help and aid yet you stood stuck in fear. a minute, two. she’d put up a strong fight, especially when you ran towards the two, pushing and shoving at coriolanus to let her go. but again, you fucked up.

here lies lucy gray baird, singer, victor, psycho.

obsessed? madly in love? you couldn’t think of another word, and as much as you wished to forget her, forget how she’d practically allowed another man into your relationship and let him kidnap you. her lifeless face and hollow eyes made your heart clench. but soon enough she was rolled over, thrown in a pre-made hole and buried. she’d survived the games but no one survived coriolanus snow.

“don’t forget what i said. don’t forget what you agreed to. you said you’d do as i say, i’m telling you to get up and follow me. we’re leaving district 12.” your face was painted with confusion as coriolanus clutched your face, “i’m going back, and you’re coming with me. don’t ask questions, just do as i say.”

and you did.

when he had you say goodbye to your family, a courtesy, a privilege he’d granted you. you kept it short and sweet, no questions just hugs and false promises of return.

when he ushered you onto the train and he wanted you to sit and be silent, you did.

through his time at the university, he wanted you close to him, living with him. and you did.

through his presidency campaign he wanted for you to charm sponsors and entice newcomers. you did.

when he wanted to marry you in a grand spectacle infront of the captiol and dress you up, you did as he asked.

when he held you down on your wedding night after tearing your dress off, biting and marking you down all over, pushing you down to your knees and took you all over the house, asking you to give yourself to him as if he didn’t take you anyways, you did.

you had no idea why at this point.

for your family? who hadn’t reached out in so long, even when they promised to talk to you every day? coriolanus had them all arrested, punished and hung for inciting riots and uprisings.

for your friends whom listened to your concerns of the capitol peacekeeper who hovered and didn’t make you feel crazy? each of them ended up dead in many different ways, hung, shot, a mugging gone wrong.

you didn’t know at this point and when you looked in the mirror you didn’t recognise the girl who stared back. a captiol sheep, dressed up in the finest silk dresses and slick heels yet the filth underneath the finery, jewels, and makeup weighed you down. each time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you, it felt like a peace of yourself was thrown away.

and as you clutched your swelling stomach, you couldn’t help but feel pity for baby number four.

maybe you’d grow up and find love.

maybe i’ll be able to take you all away from him.

maybe we’ll heal.

you thought, but in the back of your head, a little voice wouldn’t shut up.

you’ll always be his little dove.

[seattlesellie]

randomm but ur one breeding kink ellie smut from a while ago inspired this one that i made so i just have 2 say thank u for that ౨ৎ cuz I popped off !!

also can we just talk about how farm!ellie n a breeding kink go hand in hand like you can't tell me that scruffy mullet havin girl wouldn't be stuffing you up with her whole girth sloppily pounding into u like wet slaps, strings of precum staining those damned sheetss n u can feel all that slick cooling in ur pores almost cause she's just so messy~ literally sweating and her cheeks r suffused like a cherub. drags her slobbering, red–hot swollen lips upon the rim of your ear, whispering all shuddered and gaspy from the exertion she puts into piping you, "y–yeah, this cock gonna make you a mama, hmm? fuuckk, so tight– fuck! uhhnn, my c–cums' just gonna spill right out of you~"

not even ovulating rn im just period–horny apologies just needed to drop this by cuz im having domestic!ellie baby fevurr..

the way i gulped and my tummy flipped. ur like horny lesbian shakespeare.

screaming ‘n crying can you imagine this but with one of those breeding straps. ellie’s trembling, adrenaline filled hand sliding down her firm torso and squeezing the milky consistency out of her dicks balls onto your cunt. t’happens right as she actually cums, cos damn that realism is so near and dear to her heart. the liquid spills and warms up your slippery insides, and she’s just rambling — “y’like my cum? y-yeah? s-s’-so dirty”, chuckling huskily as it runs down ur thighs, “heh, dirty girl” <3 she’d even go so far as to stick the liquid back into ur swollen hole, “gotta make sure it takes mommy, yeah?” && smears it on ur lips and sticks a thumb inside your mouth all smirking like an ass as you suckle it. her eyes would be pitch black and she’d immediately throb inside her boxers and year to fuck you again. probably wants to call you a cumslut but saves it for another time ((when she gains some confidence cos that word is pure filth)) ♡

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: THEY’RE YOUR BLIND V-DAY DATE ❤️🍷💕 (CROSSOVER ANIME) (18+) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: Got another something for V-Day for y’all. I decided to do one for multiple anime characters cuz I’m a slut for all them 2D characters & couldn’t decide on one specific show lol. Plus it sounded fun! And important disclaimers I’ll just make a note of before the actual Drabble. I hope y’all enjoy! ☺️🥰 -Jazz

********

LEVI ACKERMAN (AOT)

The first night, you’re nervous, to say the least, especially when Hange warns you about his appearance. 

“Why?” you had asked over margaritas and tacos, already perplexed and slightly unnerved by her warning. “Is he really ugly or something?” 

Hange, sitting across from you in her glasses with her locks of long, chestnut brown hair cascading down her shoulders, shook her head. “No, no, my dear!” she immediately protested. “He’s actually quite handsome despite the broody thing. But he does have some scars from a mission gone wrong at his job and he’s blind in one eye.”

She took a sip of her margarita as if to soften the next blow. “And he’s missing a leg,” she finished. 

You were taken aback, to say the least, but you didn’t let that stop you. You aren’t prejudiced and you refused to let that stop you from at least giving Hange’s friend a chance.

Apparently, Levi has been a firefighter for a couple of years and has recently broken up with a longtime girlfriend, so Hange figured he could get back into the dating pool and realize that there are great girls out there starting with you! 

So the weekend of Valentine’s Day, Hange texts you the name of the restaurant and you take an Uber there after spending the entire day doing your hair, picking out an outfit, and giving yourself a makeover. You decided on a soft glam look as this is the first time you’re meeting the guy and a pretty, red dress that hugs your frame and zips in the back. 

When you get out of the Uber in front of the quaint and low-key yet romantic restaurant, you take a table near the door so it’ll be easier to see Levi walk in and flag him down. You still have no idea what he looks like, only that he’ll be wearing a black trench coat, he’s kinda short, and he has a large scar going over his eye.

“His team calls him Scar, apparently,” Hange laughed. “It helps that he has a smooth, deep voice too!” 

You admit that you were curious to see him and hear that “smooth, deep” voice she told you about. So you sit and order a glass of wine, waiting for his arrival as you stare out at the passing cars and people…only he never comes.

You wait and you wait and you wait, but he never shows his face. You call Hange, thinking maybe you have the wrong restaurant or time or day, but all is correct. You think that maybe he’s in traffic or something came up, but Hange never calls to tell you either. 

When your appetizer comes and the candle sitting in the middle of the table begins to melt, you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You’ve been stood up.

The realization hits you like a brick to the face. Quickly, you order the check and a box for your food and pay the waiter before running out of the restaurant in tears. You feel stupid. Wasteful. Foolish in your pretty dress and heels. 

Hange comes over to see you with the quickness when you tell her that night, ice cream and face masks in tow. “I can’t believe him!” she says, enraged, with a sheet mask on her face. “He told me he’d be there and then he doesn’t show up? Who does he think he is? Why, I’m gonna give that man a piece of my–“ 

“Don’t Hange,” you sigh, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Just leave it be. He probably just changed his mind or wasn’t ready.”

You are ready to move on and forget it, but the universe doesn’t let you. A week later while at work of all places, you get an unknown call. Thinking it’s one of those scammers, you give a sharp “hello”. 

“Uh…hi,” a smooth, deep, velvety voice replies. “This is Levi, Hange’s friend. This is Y/N, correct?”

You heart drops into your ass and it takes a moment for you to reply. “Uh, y-yeah,” you answer. “Yeah, this is her. You’re Hange’s friend? Did you get my number from her?” 

“I had to,” Levi replies, his voice making your stomach do flips. “I’m sorry if that’s weird, but I just…”

He pauses, sighing. “I had to talk to you,” he finishes, sounding completely beaten. “I’m so sorry for not coming last week. I was so afraid for you to see me because of my appearance. I was so sure you'd find me unattractive and not like what you see. I’m very insecure in that and I let it get the best of me, but that doesn’t mean you deserved that. Hange already went up my ass about it.” 

You softly giggle, knowing she would. "So, if you don’t despise me too much and you’re willing, can we meet up for dinner this Friday night if you’re free?”

He sounds hopeful and slightly afraid. You don’t know why you say yes, but you do and you make plans to meet for ramen on Friday. When the day comes, you wear a more casual outfit–-a pretty cashmere sweater, jeans, and some boots––but still style your hair and makeup to look presentable. ‘Second time’s a charm, I guess,’ you think. 

It’s a dry, cool night so you wait outside the restaurant for Levi to arrive, texting him that you’re there prior to your arrival. Ten minutes into waiting, you think he isn’t going to show and that he duped you again, but then your phone rings. Your heart leaps at the sight of his caller ID and you answer. “Hello?” you answer, noticing how breathless you sound. 

“Look up,” Levi says and you do, seeing him standing before you across the street under a streetlight.

The soft light illuminates his features: a sharp jawline and cheekbones, soft, pale skin, one eye the color of a gray ocean, and the other milky where a long scar runs from his eyebrow to his cheek. He walks towards you slowly with a slight gate in his step, his hand on his left leg where his prosthetic is, and finally makes it over to you. He is extremely attractive and smells like toasted vanilla.

“You’re Y/N, I take it?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

“And you’re Levi,” you reply, your heart battering against your ribcage.

He gives a slight nod, his one eye roaming over your frame. “My God, you’re stunning,” he chuckles as if he can hardly believe it. “Even more than that the first night. I had come, but I never went into the restaurant. I was so intimidated by the way you looked that I just–“ 

“Stop,” you interrupt, not liking the thought of him standing outside looking into the restaurant window at you, feeling so horrible about his looks.

“That was then and this is now. And you’re wrong, by the way.”

One of Levi’s eyebrows raises in confusion. “I do like what I see,” you say, your voice soft and shy. “For the record, you’re one of the sexiest guys I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” 

The laugh Levi lets out just about fills you with joy and you just about melt before he holds the door for you to enter the restaurant, not so discreetly staring at your ass as he does.

NANAMI KENTO (JJK)

He’s a professor and he’s a blonde is what you’re told by Gojo…but that’s about all he tells you, the asshole. 

“You’re asking me to go on a date with a dude I don’t even know and you won’t even tell me what he looks like?”

You’re sitting with him at brunch with bottomless mimosas when he runs it by you. You get the feeling he just invited you out with the promise of mimosas, good omelettes, and paying just to toss this at you. 

Gojo gives you his big, gigawatt smile as he sits across from you wearing his usual shades. “Trust me, babe! He’s a good and attractive guy! If I wasn’t taken, I’d fuck him myself.” He snorts to himself, shoveling some eggs into his mouth. “But I don’t even think I’m his type.” 

From what you gathered at the start of brunch, Kento Nanami is Gojo’s very stoic, very introverted, very lonely friend who is in need of a date this upcoming Valentine’s Day. Though intelligent and handsome, Nanami isn’t too good with women and hasn’t been in a romantic relationship is quite some time.

“I swear, he’s not an incel,” Gojo swears, one hand on his heart and the other held high. “He loves women! He’s just…awkward.” 

You aren’t sure if you like that answer. “What if I meet him and I don’t like him?” you ask, taking a break from your mimosa. “I mean, I’m only agreeing to this because you said you’d pay me.”

And Gojo did. He figures you’re the perfect girl––smart, pretty, and funny––to bring Nanami out of his shell. “$50,” he sing-songs. “And if you hate his guts, you'll get another $50, I promise. But give him a chance, Y/N! He needs it!” 

To not hear him whine and beg, you roll your eyes and agree. Gojo arranges for you to meet with Nanami at a winter light show in the park that is done every year. It’s the perfect place to meet since it’s romantic and very populated.

You dress in your warmest and cutest coat before hurrying to meet Nanami, your boots crunching in the snow. The park is decorated in twinkling lights that line the trees, walkways, and fountains. 

You’re so enchanted by the lights that you barely see the slick of ice lining the sidewalk. You misstep and your left foot goes skidding. “Oh, shit!” you gasp as you fall, but you don't feel the ground or the cold snow.

You don’t feel anything at all except two warm, strong arms wrapped around you. You look up into the warm eyes of an older man. An older, extremely attractive man with a blonde undercut and wearing a tan wool coat. “Are you alright, miss?” he worriedly asks. His voice is deep yet warm and sweet like honey.

You’re so taken by the stranger that you barely notice that he has set you upright. “Um…yeah,” you answer albeit softly. 

You blink at him, noticing how tall and well-built he is behind his coat. His hands are strong and capable and you find yourself staring at them even when he shoves them into his pocket. “Nanami?” you hesitantly question.

You watch his darker blonde brows furrow in confusion then rise in realization. “You’re Y/N,” he realizes. “Forgive me. Gojo didn’t tell me what you’d look up or what you’d be wearing.” 

You think you see his eyes trailing over you, but you can’t focus on it for too long. “That’s okay,” you laugh. “That’s Gojo, for you. How do you know him?”

Nanami begins to walk with you to the line at the entrance gate to enter the event, keeping the same slow pace as you. “We went to the same high school and remained friends ever since. How did you meet him?” 

“We met through a mutual friend and just clicked,” you explain. “Her name is Shoko.” Recognition crosses Nanami’s face at the name. “Shoko?” he asks, a light flickering in his eyes. “I know her as well. We all went to the same school.” 

“What a coincidence!” you giggle, glad to have something to break the ice (other than your fall). “Thank you again for helping me. I know I’m dumb for wearing these things in the snow.” You nod down at your heeled boots to which Nanami only stares at, never smiling. His expression is unreadable and slightly intimidating. But you can tell it’s just awkwardness. Now you see what Gojo meant. 

But rather than be unnerved by it, you find yourself wanting to break through it. You want to get to the warm core of this man. “Um…should we walk?” you ask, nodding at the entrance gate. Nanami nods but looks slightly worried.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, still staring at your feet. “You may want to hold onto me.” He offers you his arm, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks that one could pass off for the cold. Your heart leaps at the chance to touch him, even be near him. 

“What a gentleman,” you chuckle. “I didn't think chivalry still existed.” You take his coat sleeve and let him lead you through the entrance into the park’s first trail.

A chuckle that makes your stomach flip and your pussy leap leaves Nanami’s mouth. “I wouldn’t say all of that but thank you. I would just think I’m being a good human being. So Gojo told me about your job. What is that like?” 

The park is truly beautiful, decorated head to toe with lights that twinkle and dance. But you’re not focusing on the lights; just Nanami and his conversation. For such a stoic guy, he can really hold a conversation.

He tells you all about his job as a professor and his students; what subjects he likes; his life outside of work. He asks you about you and all of your habits, hobbies, and joys. He listens intently, putting them all in his brain’s filing cabinet. You find similarities about each other, including favorite books, movies, and your love for the beach. 

The date lasts for an hour and you enjoy every minute of it. You like being around Nanami, enjoying his stale humor and shy smile. More than anything, you like his presence.

You like how soft his wool coat feels under your finger. You like how he keeps his arm at reach, even when you release him at times. You like how he keeps the same pace as you, never walking too fast and always staying at your side, his black leather shoes tapping against the concrete.

You’re feeling him and you want to let him know that when you finally reach the end of the park where the last attraction, an ice sculptor decorated in lights, stands. 

“Wow,” you sigh. “So pretty.” 

Nanami stands next to you as you stare up in awe at the attraction. “Yes,” he agrees, though he isn’t looking at the lights. His attention is solely on you.

He likes the way the lights illuminate your skin which contrasts with his. He likes the brown of your eyes, so warm and tempting like chocolate. He likes your humor and sweet laugh. He likes you and he isn’t too shy to show it. You can see it when you turn and find him already staring at you, bold and heated. 

He is sexy. He is alluring. And you want him. “Nanami?” you shyly ask.

His eyebrows raise, acknowledging your question. You turn to him fully and stare up at him through your lashes. “I don’t usually do this, but…would you want to come home with me?”

He is silent, staring at you wordlessly, and your stomach flips with discomfort. “For coffee, maybe?” you add. 

Nanami doesn’t have to be asked again.

To end such a perfect date, you find yourself on your back with Nanami on top of you, looking so handsome above you as he pounds your pussy into the mattress. His big hands pin your thighs apart and up to his broad shoulders, your painted toes and skin contrasting deliciously with his lighter skin.

“So pretty,” he groans. “You were the prettiest thing there tonight. Fuck, darling, you’re so tight!” 

He thrusts into you harder, faster, making the bed squeak and you lose your voice from how loud you moan. You can feel yourself about to cum after so much foreplay and stimulation (Nanami is a gentle lover).

“Kento,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “I’m gonna cum! Please…please cum with me!” 

And he does. At the sound of you begging, he bursts inside of you with a ragged groan as you cum all over his big cock, your pussy walls squeezing around him and stroking his shaft.

As you do, his lips find yours, giving you a passionate kiss that could melt the ice with how hot it is. 

NICO ROBIN  (One Piece)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized! 

Nami swore up and down that you needed to go on a date for Valentine’s Day to forget about your short-term “situationship”. 

“Just give a chance, Y/N,” she said to you over ramen. She treated you to lunch at the best ramen place in town while you were on your work break. “It’s just for one night and I can’t stand the thought of my best friend alone on Valentine’s Day! And she’s a great girl, seriously!” 

You looked down at your bowl of ramen, feeling hot under your sweater dress that clung to your plump body. The idea of a blind date didn’t appeal to you much, especially being such a big girl. Usually, when people got a look at you, they either ghosted you after the first date or didn’t give you the time of day. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“Just be careful,” Zoro said, shoveling spicy miso ramen into his mouth. “She’ll charm the pants off of you…or skirt…whatever you’ll be wearing.” Nami smacked him on the the arm hard, making the green-haired hunk hiss in pain. “Don’t listen to him, honey. Robin is just a sweet-talker. You have nothing to worry about!” 

But when you finally get a look at your date, you don’t think that’s true. Nami set the date up at a high-scale bar where the working class and hotshot businessmen come for happy hour.

When you walk in, you immediately feel self-conscious despite looking oh-so yummy in your waistband coat that flares around your waist and pink dress that makes your skin and brown eyes pop. But the dress also sticks to your body, accentuating each curve, ripple, and roll. Though your stomach ripples with nerves, you also feel slightly confident catching eyes under the warm lights above. 

You sit at the sleek bar and order yourself a cocktail to loosen up a bit more while you search for your date at the door. Nami only told you that she’s “tall with long black hair and might be wearing purple”.

You’re curious as to what this girl is like and if she likes what she sees. You sip on your cocktail and scroll through your phone for a couple of minutes, completely unaware of the eyes you have captured from down at the bar. 

When you turn around in your stool to place your glass down, you find another cocktail sitting behind you. Confused, you flag down the bartender. “I didn’t order this,” you tell him, pushing the glass towards him. “It was sent to you,” he explains. “From down at the bar.” You look in that direction, but find no one paying any attention to you. “But I have a date,” you protest. “I can't accept this.” 

“That’s correct,” a sweet yet smooth and sultry voice purrs behind you, “and it’s usually rude to deny a drink from her.” The voice causes your body to react instantly: the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; your heart pounds in your chest; your stomach flips. You turn and see your blind date standing behind you in the flesh. 

Beautiful isn’t a word to use for Robin. She is absolutely stunning. A straight vixen oozing confidence and poise as she stands behind you in a purple cocktail dress that illuminates her soft, pale skin and blue eyes that steal the air from your lungs.

She is tall and slender with piano fingers painted in a dark rouge that you want to feel wrapped around your body, but has a rack that can stop traffic and is definitely catching eyes. Her long, shiny, black locks of hair cascade down her slender shoulders, catching the light above. You are in awe of her and her beauty as are the others in the bar. 

“Y/N?” she asks in her alluring voice. Wordlessly, you nod and close your mouth to avoid looking like an idiot. “I’m Nico Robin, Nami’s friend. She’s told me so much about you.” She puts a slender hand out to shake yours, giving you a whiff of her luxurious-smelling perfume and a peek of golden Tiffany bracelet. 

You put your hand in hers, feeling warm from her touch. “N-Nice to meet you,” you stutter. “Please, have a seat. Do you want a drink?” Robin raises her brows questionably as she settles onto a stool next to you. You flush under the lights, thanking God that he made you Black. “It’s only right since you ordered me one.” 

Robin smiles, her pearly whites and dimples making you damn near melt. “How sweet of you,” she giggles. She orders herself a dirty Martini with extra olives and thanks you again when it comes. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I got caught up in some work.” She slowly crosses her soft, long, milky legs over one another. You do your best not to stare. 

You give her a smile, pretending that you’re not turned the fuck on by her, and lean your elbow against your chin. “So you’re an archaeologist, right? That’s such an interesting job.”

She smiles at the compliment and at the mention of her career as you sip your cocktail. “Well, I’ve always been attracted to history since I was young. I’m attracted to intelligence too, which you seem to have a lot of.” Her smile turns flirty and now you know what Zoro was talking about. You’re already charmed by her. “Tell me: what’s your job like?” she asks. 

Your conversations last for hours and flow perfectly, especially after you get your second drink in you. You tell her about your job and quietly gush over her curiosity and awe, realizing how much she loves learning. You talk about everything, from city life to books to anime, learning that you both love magical girl anime, especially Sailor Moon.

You didn't expect that from Robin because of how poised she is and her love for dark colors, but as soon as you mention Sailor Moon, her eyes widen in excitement. ��I love Sailor Moon!” She laughs. “I cosplayed as Sailor Mars two Halloweens ago. I bet you’d look so pretty as a Sailor Scout, especially with the skirt.” 

That’s another thing you learn about Robin: she’s a flirt. She sneaks in little sly compliments to obviously make you flustered…and it’s working. You try to do the same, complimenting her on her outfit and her smile. “I can see why everyone is so fond of you in here,” you say, nodding at the group of businessmen playing pool who are not so discreetly staring at you both from across the room.

Robin giggles, turning back to you with a hooded gaze. “Too bad,” she sighs, not at all sounding disappointed. “I’m here with you.” 

As the night goes on, it gets looser as you both become more comfortable with each other. You talk about everything and anything, telling each other funny stories and showing pictures of your pets. “You’re a dog mom too?” you coo, gushing over her wallpaper of her and a fluffy, brown animal dressed as Santa Claus though he has pointed ears and horns.

“Reindeer mom,” she corrects you and titters at your confusion. “It’s a long story, but that’s my perfect little boy. His name is Chopper.” 

Other than Robin being a sweet-talker as Nami said, you also find out many other things about this alluring, attractive woman. Like how much she loves plays and Disney movies, becoming so excited when you ask her about her favorite films. “I love musicals,” she shyly says, an endearing blush on her face. “Can you tell I’m a secret theatre kid?”

Or how she tends to ramble about information she’s obtained from books and documentaries about tribes long gone and age-old urban legends. You could listen to her talk for hours. Unbeknownst to you, she feels the same about you whenever you speak about yourself and your interests. 

As the alcohol takes its affect on you both, she also tells you that she’s a devil fruit user, a term you’ve heard before since many in the world are, including your mutual friend Luffy. When you ask her about her ability, she just winks behind her third martini glass. “A woman never draws all of her cards…not all at once, anyway.” 

As the night draws on, so do the drinks and soon, you’re feeling loose and bold. You decide to show her your hidden talent which is rolling your eyes to the right and the left. “I can wiggle my ears too,” you say, showing her much to her amusement. She applauds you, giggling at your talent. “My, you’re full of surprises,” she giggles. “And so am I.” 

You suddenly feel something tickling your sides and look down to see two disembodied hands tickling you. Robin’s hands. You look at her in shock as she retracts her extra arms, using them to grab her third martini and take a sip. “The perks of being a devil fruit user,” she chuckles. At the sight of your expression, she grows concerned. “Do they frighten you?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. “They’re…” You stare at her extra hands, wondering how many more she has and how they would feel on your body. “Pretty,” you decide to answer with. That is enough for Robin to decide what she wants from you tonight. 

So when you’re both still sitting there when the bar is emptying out, she makes it known. “Oh, dear,” she sighs, exhaling in disappointment as the bartenders clean and the drunk crowd empties out. “It appears that our date has become to an end.” She turns to you, placing a warm hand on yours. “I really enjoyed meeting you, Y/N,” she says, a smile on her face that makes you ache. 

You don’t want tonight to end. You don’t want her to go. You need more of her touch. She seems to understand and see the mutual disappointment in your eyes because she doesn’t release your hand.

“Unless you want this night to continue,” she adds, her voice like honey in your ears. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very attracted to you too, unless I’m mistaking the chemistry.”

You can’t speak, so you shake your head and her eyes twinkle. She leans in toward you, engulfing you in her scent. “Just say the words and I’ll go with you,” she whispers into your ear. 

Desire overwhelms you and you squeeze her hand, interlacing your fingers. “I’ll call a Lyft,” you exhale. Robin smiles, keeping her hand in yours. 

She doesn’t let go even hours later when your fingers are interlaced with each other while your legs are pinned open by her extra hands on the bed. Your moans and whimpers fill the darkness of your bedroom as she moves her tongue against your clit, moaning eagerly and sloppily into your pussy as she eats you like there is no tomorrow.

“Now I can really show you how good I am with my hands,” she giggles, looking up at you between your thighs. “You’re so cute like this, pretty girl.” 

You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more she moves her jaw, going faster and faster until you have no choice. “Robin,” you whine. “I'm gonna…gonna…!” Your back arches and your legs shake around Robin’s face. 

Her hold on you tightens, her hands gripping your thighs.“Cum for me, gorgeous,” she hums. “I’ve got you. Cum all over my face like a good girl.”

One thing is for sure while you gush around Robin’s face, loving how she eagerly laps up everything you give her: another date is definitely in the future for you and her.

PRO!KATSUKI BAKUGOU & KIRISHIMA EJIROU (BHNA)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized & a bimbo! 

*Disclaimer: Bakugou & Kiri are both aged-up (over the age of 18) in this drabble! 

You don’t know why you agreed to do this blind date thing, but your friend put you up to it after she reminded you of your NY resolution to try new things to help yourself. 

“You need to put yourself out there more, girl!” she argued over the phone with you. “Do you see how hot you are?! You deserve to have someone on your arm!” You pouted as you painted your toe nails a pretty bubblegum pink, your feet hanging over you bathtub smelling like vanilla bubblebath. 

Though she is right about you deserving a nice guy to tell you how pretty you are, most of the guys you dated either used you as arm candy, hit in then quit it, or just stopped talking to you because of your, uh…bimbo-ness. You know you have no filter and sometimes you do come off as dumb, but you’re trying your best! And you’re kind and the sweetest person anyone will ever meet! Isn’t that enough? 

“Yeah, but a blind date though?” you complained into the phone sitting on your sink. “How am I gonna go on a date if I can’t see, girl?” You gasped, even more mortified. “Or will my date be blind?! How will be able to see me and my cute outfit?!” 

Your friend just laughed. She knows you’re not the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re just too cute and sweet. “Honey, no! A blind date is when you meet someone you’ve never seen or met before. Someone else sets the date up for you.”

Your heart resumed its normal pattern and you relaxed into the water. “Ohhh,” you realized with a giggle. “Well, if you’re setting it up, can you tell me anything about him?”

Your friend refused, much to your dismay. “Nope, but you’ll meet him later this week. Saturday night at 7 PM, don’t be late. I’ll give you all the details before then.” You hung up, a bit nervous but excited, already picturing your outfit for the day. 

The Saturday of Valentine’s Day weekend, you go to the cafe your friend tells you to go to which is only a few blocks from your apartment. You dress in a pink sweater that does nothing to hide your voluptuous bosom and a pretty, cherry red skit that hugs your tummy and voluptuous ass, the damn thing so short that the ruffles stop mid-thigh, a sliver of your asscheeks seen whenever you bend over. You pair your V-Day outfit with some warm stockings and high black boots before putting on your favorite fluffy, pink coat. 

An hour later after putting on some vanilla-scented body spray and giving your lips a slick of your favorite Fenty Gloss in a sparkly pink, you stand in line to order your food, hoping that will ease your nerves over today. Because your friend loves you so much, she set you up for two dates today: one at the cafe and the other later tonight at your favorite bar.

Your first date is a redheaded hunk, according to your friend. “He’s got red hair and he’s a fucking giant,” she giggles. “And he’s SUPER fine. You’ll know him when see him.” You melted at the details. “I do like big guys,” you sigh dreamily. Your second date is just as fine, but a hothead. “My friend works with him at his agency and apparently, he’s got a mouth.” Your friend rolled her eyes. "The dude is like a pit bull, but he's so fucking sexy.” 

“I’m a little nervous though,” you mumbled, starting to feel insecure. “You think he’ll like me?” Your friend looked at you like you were insane, making you laugh. “Who wouldn’t? You’re adorable!” 

And you feel adorable when you go next to the counter and the cashier’s eyes shoots straight to your tits. You don’t notice, too busy feening for some sweet, sugar coffee. “Hi, can I please get a peppermint mocha latte with two pumps of caramel, please?” You are so damn cute that the guy blushes and quickly rings you up. You pay and thank him when you get your drink before walking off, but stop when something captures you. 

There, hidden behind a glass container behind the counter, are a bunch of seasonal-flavored doughnuts lined up in a row. Your eyes immediately go for the one coated in pink frosting, powdered sugar, and red and pink sprinkles. “Oooh,” you coo to yourself. “So pretty.” 

“Agreed,” says a raspy, sexy voice from behind you. You turn a little too quickly and a bit of coffee sloshes over the top of your drink and onto the crotch of the guy standing behind you. “Oops, I’m so sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t even see you! Oh, it’s gonna stain! Here, quick!” You quickly reach for a wad of napkins and begin to dab at the man’s crotch, not even realizing how it looks. 

Still not even bothering to look up, the blonde furiously blushes while the redhead behind him stifles a laugh. “That’s quite okay,” he chuckles. “At least now he smells like peppermint down there.” The blonde growls like he wants to commit murder. “Plus, Katsuki was standing way too close to you in line, weren’t you, ‘Suki?” 

You hand the napkins over to the blonde, hyper-focused on the nickname. “‘Suki,” you giggle. “That’s such a cute…” Your words die in you when you finally, finally, look up into the eyes of the two finest, sexiest men you’ve ever seen in your life.

One of them has long, red hair cascading down his broad shoulders, fanged teeth that flash at you as he smiles, friendly, crimson eyes, and piercings––dangling from his ears, embedded in his eyebrow, and snakebites in his bottom lip.

The other sports a platinum blonde undercut and a scowl that slightly softens at the sight of you. He, too, has crimson eyes that widen at your pretty face and outfit and one piercing in his plump bottom lip. The only things similar about the duo are how tall, buff, and sexy they both are. “Name,” you weakly finish. “I-I’m Y/N.” 

The redhead grins, putting his big ass hand out for a shake. “Ejirou,” he says, “but my friends call me Kiri.” You do so, noticing how calloused his palm is and how much his sweater stretches against his pecs. The blonde has the same issue, his V-neck shirt way too tight for his toned body. “Bakugou,” he grumbles, giving you an intense stare that makes you melt on the inside. 

Those gears in your head start turning and you gape at the duo. “Wait…I know you two!” you gasp. “You guys are those superheroes, right? Dynamight and Red Riot!” Kiri tosses his head back and laughs while Bakugou glares daggers at you. “Damn, could you be any louder?” he growls. You cover your mouth, flushing with embossment. “Sorry!” you whisper. "I’m just a big fan of you two! I almost didn’t recognize you in normal clothes. I have your posters and all of your merch!” 

Kiri gives Bakugou a look that he would seeing a cat do something cute. And that is what you are: a cute little kitty. Something adorable and sweet yet you have a sexiness to you that both men are coming to find. “Well, it's always a pleasure to meet a fan. Especially such a cute one.” He grins at the way you giggle bashfully. “I’m guessing you’re a fan of sweets? Me too. I was actually planning on getting one of those for my boyfriend, my date, and I.” 

You notice Kiri gaze at Bakugou when he says “my boyfriend” and you quietly gush to yourself. “Oh, you two are dating?” you coo, much to Bakugou’s dismay. He’s so cute when he blushes! “That’s so sweet! Here, I’ll treat you guys to ‘em to make up for that nasty spill.” 

Kiri is just about ready to scoop you up and take you home with them when you dig into your bag for your Hello Kitty wallet. “Well, isn’t that sweet? You up for somethin’ sweet, Katsuki?” 

Though Bakugou feels the same way, he still wants to feel you out and see if this “bimbo-esque” personality you’ve got going on is a fake. “It’s whatever,” he grumbles. “But you’d better get me the chocolate one. I don’t want the one with all of those sprinkles and shit on it.” You vigorously nod, taking out some cash. “You got it!” you giggle and hand them the cash. After getting back in line, Kiri orders one chocolate and two strawberry donuts and his and Bakugou’s drinks. 

You thank the cashier when she hands you each pastry individually wrapped in a paper bag, nice, warm, and toasty from the oven. You turn to the pros and hand them the treats. “Here you guys go,” you sweetly say. Bakugou grumbles as he takes his while Kiri gives you a big gigawatt grin. “Thanks, cutie,” he chuckles. You expect them to start eating them, but you’re shocked when Bakugou hands one of the strawberry ones to you. 

You freeze, confused. “But…this is for your date,” you say, completely clueless. “Aren’t you gonna give it to them?” Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose like a dad with a dumbass child. “Oh, my God,” he groans. Kiri thinks it’s endearingly hilarious, holding his stomach as he laughs. “You are our date, silly girl!” he giggles. “Well, mine, technically. Your friend set us up to have dates with you at different times today, but we both just came together since we’re dating. I hope that’s cool.” 

You gape at them, wondering if they’re serious. Two of the hottest pros on a date with you? At the same time?! You just about squeal with excitement. “Sure!” you giggle, your heart leaping for joy. “The more, the better! Let’s go sit down so we can get to know each other more.” 

The two are happy to oblige. Kiri picks out a table in the back that is more secluded and near the window for the sights. Before you sit, you turn to Katsuki with an apologetic pout. “I’m sorry again about the spill, Bakugou.” 

The blonde cuts his eyes at you and you can't tell what he’s thinking due to how permanent his scowl is. But that changes when he pulls your chair out for you. “Katsuki,” he replies. “And stop mentionin’ it. Besides, I know some other way you can make up for it later…maybe with your number.” He gives you a lopsided smirk that makes you tingle between your thighs. 

“Chill,” Kiri cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Sorry about him. We don’t usually flirt too hard on the first date…but you’re just too cute to resist.” He boldly looks you up and down, tugging lightly on his bottom lip. You wonder what else he can do with his mouth as the cafe’s atmosphere becomes more tense between the three of you. “Well, I could say the same about you two,” you purr, a shy giggle leaving your lips. 

That’s what the duo want to hear. Bakugou’s smirk widens, a twinkle in his vermillion eyes. “Glad the feelin’ is mutual, mama,” he whispers. “So you sittin’ or what? My fuckin’ coffee’s gettin’ cold.” You do so and you never want the date to end…unless it’s to spend more time with them in private.

NICHOLAS "NICO" BROWN (GANGSTA!)

You stand outside of a jazz club one chilly night, watching the passersby and wondering which one may be your blind date. 

Worick told you all about his friend, Nico, but you’ve never met him before. You only know that the two work together and have known each other since childhood. You’ve only known Worick for two years after he helped you out of a messy financial situation with your asshole ex-boyfriend who, according to Worick, nearly shat himself when Worick threatened to bring Nico in to handle things.

Apparently, Nico is well-known throughout the town for being an extremely threatening and intimidating figure. 

Why in the fuck would Worick want to set you up with someone like that? “He’s a cool dude, really!” he assured you over coffee. “Just…quiet. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s deaf. He’s just a quiet guy; a little awkward; introverted…” 

‘Not to mention threatening and intimidating,’ you thought to yourself. “And you thought I was just perfect for this guy?” you scoffed. “What will we even talk about? How can I talk to him if he’s so quiet?” 

“If you ask him something, he’ll answer you,” the handsome blonde replied. “And don’t worry too much about signing. He can read lips, but just make sure you slow down with your words.” Though Worick knows you know sign language due to your father being deaf since you were an infant. He can tell you’re still hesitant to say yes and folds his hands into a prayer.

“C’mon, sweetie,” he begs. “The guy has NEVER been on a Valentine’s Day date before and his last girlfriend was a fucking bitch who dumped him because he was deaf. All she wanted was his massive dick…sorry.”

He apologized when he saw your reaction. You didn’t need to know that his childhood friend has a big dick! ….Though you are curious to know just how big. “He needs someone kind, considerate, and sweet. You fit the bill! Just give him a chance, please?” 

Before you agreed, Worick told you all about Nico’s ex, happy to do so when you asked. Apparently, she was the daughter of a rich family that he and Worick were in charge of guarding for a couple of months. She and Nico grew closer, had a sexual relationship, and Nico caught feelings while she didn’t, claiming it was because she didn’t want to date someone deaf due to it being “too much work”. You felt bad for Nico, especially when hearing how much it hurt him. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” you sighed at Worick’s pleading stare. He clapped his big, calloused hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Love you too, sweetie,” he chuckled. “I’ll fill you in on the details later this week.” 

He instructed you to meet Nico at an underground jazz club that Nico particularly likes for its seclusion and because no one bothers him too much in there. You dressed in a simple cocktail dress, flats and a cardigan to keep warm in the chill. Combined with your styled hair and soft makeup, you think you look pretty. You hope this “Nico" person thinks so too. When you look down the street among the other stores and taverns, you see a man walking up the road and you immediately know that your date has arrived. 

He is big. Huge! The man is nothing but bulky muscle hidden beneath his black tee, baggy jeans, and leather jacket standing at six-foot-something. He towers over you as he gets closer, so much so that you have to look up at him to actually look at his face. You can see why he's so intimidating.

Other than his height and build, Nico carries himself with a roughness and a confidence that is unshakeable and undeniable. It’s scary…yet also thrilling. Kinda sexy too. 

Under the soft glow of the street lamps, you get a good look at his features: he has a soft tan to his skin, thick, soft-looking lips, and eyes a deep, dark chocolate that you can get lost in forever. Silver dog tags hang from his thick neck that has your blood going hot and slight scars and bruises that you can see on his knuckles. You wonder, briefly, how he got them. He’s very, very handsome.

Realizing he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you clear your throat. “Uh….hi!” you greet, giving him a wave. He nods, barely cracking a smile. “You’re Nico?” you sign with your hands and verbally ask. “I’m Y/N, Worick’s friend.” 

Nico shakes your hand and you notice how big, warm, and calloused his palm is. It makes your pussy tingle embarrassingly so. “The teacher, right?” he signs with those thick fingers. “He told me you teach little kids.” You nod, smiling proudly at your occupation. “Yes, pre-K,” you giggle. “They’re adorable, but a handful.” 

There is an awkwardness between you, mostly because Nico is such a silent guy. He also keeps that stoic scowl on his face, so you don’t really know what he’s thinking. “So what do you do?” you curiously ask. “Worick never filled me in on that. He just said you do ‘business’ together as Handymen.” At this, Nico cracks a crooked smirk. “Something like that,” he signs. That intrigues you a bit. 

“Do you wanna go inside?” you ask, nodding at the door. “We’ll freeze before we get a chance to get to know each other more.” You give a small laugh to which he only nods, making you feel like a fish out of water. He opens the door for you, surprising you, and nods you into the warm club.

“Thank you,” you whisper, catching his intoxicating scent of cologne and lavender soap as you walk in. A bit of cigarette smoke clings to his clothes too, but it doesn't bother you much. The club is small yet cozy and dimly lit for a more intimate feel. Many people are at the bar or on the dance floor near the small stage where a band plays, the sounds of piano and cello mingling in the air. 

After getting your drinks from the bar (you get a cocktail while Nico picks a beer), you pick a table near the window and Nico pulls out a chair for you. You flush bashfully at his actions, not taking him for such a sweet guy. “Such a gentleman,” you laugh as he pushes you in and takes a seat across from you. “Worick didn’t tell me that. He said you’re very quiet though.” He shrugs his broad shoulders in his jacket. “Just don’t got much to say,” he signs. 

You nod as you shed your coat, revealing your naked shoulders and dress to him. You try not to be intimidated by his unwavering gaze. “That’s okay,” you sign and say. “We can talk about whatever you want.” The corners of his mouth quirk upward. “You sign really well,” he praises you. You smile proudly and bashfully, glad to have impressed him. “My dad is deaf and taught me how to sign since I was young.” 

His smirk turns more dry and almost forced as he signs to you: “So me being deaf doesn’t turn you off?” he jokes.

You immediately remember his ex and feel your stomach fall. “Not at all,” you sweetly answer. “Though I don’t like beer drinkers.” You wrinkle your nose at Nico’s drink. He raises an eyebrow, confused at your distaste. “It makes kisses taste like beer.” You lean forward a bit, giving him a secretive, flirtatious smile. “I like my kisses sweet.” 

Your eyes tick down to his lips and he notices. But he barely reacts. If anything, he looks disinterested and your heart sinks. “Was that too much?” you ask worriedly. Did you go too far? Are you misreading this? 

Before you can babble an apology, he stops you. “You asked what I do for work with Worick,” he signs. You nod, your heart thumping madly in your chest. He takes a deep breath before signing again. “We do almost everything, but I do dirty work,” he tells you. “I used to be a mercenary, but…I’ve still got human blood on my hands.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. That explains the marks on his fists. ”Does that bother you?” he asks, apprehension in his brown eyes. Before you can respond, someone knocks into the table, nearly toppling it over. 

You squeak, grabbing your drink before it can topple over while Nico straightens the table. “Oh, my God, are you alright?” you gasp, immediately helping the guy onto his feet. He turns to you, all crooked teeth and bloodshot eyes. “Now I am,” he drunkenly chortles at the sight of you. “Damn, darlin’, you’ve got a body on you! You wanna dance?” You immediately step back, warning bells going off in your head. “U-Uh, no, sorry. I’m here with–“ 

The man turns to Nico who has been staring daggers at the drunk the whole time. “Him?” he cackles. “That fuckin’ cockhead? You can get someone better than that, darlin’. Someone who can take care of this bo–“ 

The drunk cuts himself off with a whine of pain as Nico grips his hand so hard that he cracks the drunk’s knuckle bones. Unbeknownst to you, the drunk tried to touch your behind and Nico wasn’t having that. Doesn’t he know who he’s fucking with? You gape at your date as he steps between you and the drunk, a hulking mountain, and gets deep in the drunk’s grill.

And then he opens his mouth: “Back up,” he warns, his voice deeper and raspier than you pictured it though loud due to his hearing. “Unless you want your head in this table, I suggest you leave her alone. She’s with me.” 

He then releases the drunk who scampers away, clutching his hand to his chest. Nico composes himself and turns to you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry,” he signs. You don’t say anything and he is so sure that he fucked this up. Now you see who he is. Now you see that he’s just a Twilight. A mercenary. A no good– 

“Nico?” you softly ask. His hurtful thoughts take the back burner when you step to him, looking up at him with those precious, brown eyes. “Do you want to dance?” you ask, signing the words to him. 

He blinks at you, so sure that you're scared of him. When in reality, you're just trying to push the nasty thoughts of him kissing you silly and fucking you up against the table with that big, sexy body and massive dick out of your mind.

Him defending you but still being a complete, gentle giant to you is getting you going completely, but it’s still the first date. You want him to open up and maybe a slow dance can do that for you. “Not much of a dancer,” he signs, looking sheepish. 

You smile and offer your hands to which he takes. “I’ll show you how,” you giggle, pulling him along onto the dance floor filled with slow-dancing pairs. A soft, slow tune with a seductive saxophone and piano plays as you stand eye to eye. You place one hand on his shoulder as you interact your fingers with his with the other. Slowly, you begin to sway to the music, beginning to melt within the music and each other. 

And when lean your head onto his shoulder, finally feeling at peace, Nico comes to feel that this is where you belong: with him, in his arms. 

KEISUKE BAJI (TOKYO REVENGERS)

*Disclaimer: Baji is aged up (over the age of 18) in this drabble! 

“You’re the worst blind date I’ve ever had,” you very boldly and irritatingly tell the annoyingly sexy man sitting across from you. 

The attractive man with the long, wavy black hair, sharp eyes the color of milk chocolate, and a sharp, canine smile looks across from you at the table littered with remnants of your Italian dinner. Baji is his name apparently, a close friend of Mikey’s and one of his gang members. You never understood that gang shit, but they never give you problems.

If anything, Mikey’s gang ‘Toman’, protects you and makes sure you go about your days without any bother. “I’m guessin’ you’ve been on many blind dates before me?” Baji suggests as he chews on his pasta. “Huh. That’s a shocker.” 

You sharply squint at him, catching onto that shade. “Why is that so shocking?” you ask, digging your nails into the table with how irked you are. You can’t believe Mikey set you up with him. It’s been 25 minutes into the date and so far, each conversation was an argument and shot after shot.

Your personalities clash horribly, not to mention every woman in the place has their eyes on him. And he knows it! Not to mention that he’s an extremely messy eater (which led your mind to other places), he is way too into himself, and he has no idea how to act in a classy setting like an Italian restaurant. 

He’s a wild. He’s argumentative and hot-headed. He’s a rugged, tough-as-nails, roughneck dude…and he’s turning you on.  

Baji leans back against his chair, widening his legs in a way that makes you want to scream. Why the fuck does he have to be so goddamn fine but such an asshole? Is God punishing you? “Well, bein’ the fact that you’re the very definition of ‘a stick in the mud’,” he explains, “and a tighter than a drum, I can hardly believe how any guy sat across from you at a table. At least you’re pretty.” He goes back to eating his pasta like he didn’t just insult you. 

“Excuse me?” you hiss, feeling your blood boil. Thank God for your dress or else, you’re sure you’d boil over from the anger you feel. “And I can’t imagine how any self-respecting woman can sit with a lowlife, cocky, smart ass narc like you. And unlike me, your looks do nothing to take away any of that.” Baji’s thick, black eyebrows raise at the shot you took. “And you’re snarky,” he chuckles. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for snarky girls.” 

He uses his sinful tongue to lick a bit of sauce from his bottom lip. You catch a glint of metal on his tongue as he does and you realize that he has a tongue piercing. ‘Fuck,’ you think, clenching your thighs beneath the table and gripping the hem of your dress. You lean your hand against the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I can’t believe I said yes to this shit,” you sigh into your hand. “Fuck the $50. I’m gonna have to tell Mikey that–“ 

“Mikey?” Baji cut in, pausing from eating. “Mikey put you up to this?” His brown eyes widen in shock and you feel a spark of joy at shutting him up. “Yes,” you proudly say, venom in your tone, “he did. And you know why? It’s because no other girl wants to date you. You’re unromantic, you’re a slob, you’re always looking for an argument, and you seem to push every single guy’s buttons in here.” 

He stares at you for a moment, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and then he begins to laugh so loud that the others in the restaurant look at him. You hide behind your hand, embarrassed. “Oh, shit!” he cackles. “I swear, that motherfucker is desperate to find me somebody.” You nod, pushing your dinner to the side. “Agreed. Why he ever thought I would be a perfect match for you is beyond me.” 

Baji looks at you now, an unreadable expression on his face as his smile fades. “Maybe it’s because you’re such a fuckin’ brat,” he replies though his tone is different. You stare at him in disbelief, scowling. Did he really just say that? Deadass? 

Baji smirks at your reaction. “You heard me: B-R-A-T. You’re a brat and fortunately for you, baby girl, I’m just the guy to handle a chick like you.” He leans in toward you, folding his ringed knuckles beneath his chin. “Someone who doesn’t shut the fuck up or know her place.” 

“Know her place?!” you snap, earning the attention of the restaurant. He barely reacts, though his smile grows and a strange twinkle appear in his eyes. “You know what? Fuck this and fuck you. Why you even have an ex-girlfriend is beyond me if this is how you talk to them.” You stand up in your pretty, body-hugging dress and grab your coat. “I’m leaving,” you huff, snatching the coat on. “Have a good Valentine’s Day, dickhead.” 

Without another word or waiting for him to respond or even stop you, you leave the restaurant and step out into the cold February night. You barely get down the street before you hear your name being called. You turn, seeing Baji jogging towards you, those black locks flowing in the wind. “Y/N!” he calls in his deep ass voice. “Hold up, wait!” You don’t know why you stop, but you do, putting a hand on your hip. You glare at him and pout those plump lips when he finally stops in front of you. “You left your dessert.” 

He presents a small brown box to you and opens it to reveal a small chocolate fudge cake with chocolate mousse on the inside and Godiva flakes coating the top. “I didn’t order any dessert,” you say in a tight voice. He smirks down at you, standing several heads taller than you. “I know; that’s why I ordered ya one. C’mon, you don’t like chocolate cake?” You look back down at the cake and close it before he hands it to you. “What, is this an apology?” you snort. “Sorry, man, but you’re gonna have to try much harder than–“ 

“You’re wonderin’ why I have an ex, right?” he interrupts you. You pause, confused, but he just smiles mischievously at you. “I have an ex, and many of them, because I’m an asshole, unfortunately. Force of habit.” He shrugs, but actually looks guilty for it. “But I’ve had many girlfriends because I know how to tame them.” 

His smile is flirtier now, creating more of that sexual tension that you felt at dinner. You still stare at him, speechless, and he figures that you’re clueless about what he means. “I put it down,” he explains. "Give good dick. Knock their boots. Am I makin’ any sense here?”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the thoughts running in your head of just how good he is in the bedroom. “I know what you mean,” you snap. “So why the fuck are you tellin’ me this?” 

Baji smiles at you, his canines glowing at you as if they are illuminated by a light within them. They thrill you and bring a ferocious and needy part out of you that you didn’t know was even there. He takes a step toward you, getting closer, until you can reach up and kiss him if you want to.

“Because I know you’re attracted to me,” he murmurs matter-of-factly. “What, you think I can’t see it? The way you squeezed your thighs tight together at the table. The way you kept starin’ dead at my hands. The way you’d get so lost in thought as if daydreaming about somethin’ else way more exciting.” 

You flush embarrassingly, more at your behavior than the fact that Baji noticed it. You can’t help how attracted you are to him. But Baji doesn’t want you to be embarrassed or ashamed. He wants you to want him the same he wants you.

“Lucky for you, mama,” he purrs, the pet name making your pussy jump, especially with his voice, "I’m just as whipped for you, especially in that dress.” His fingers lightly glide down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m sorry about tonight, but I can show how sorry I am in other ways if you want me to.” 

You can tell he genuinely means it and isn’t just trying to get in your pants, but even so, you still scowl up at him, your jaw set and eyes narrow. “And why do you think I’ll say yes?” you question. He just chuckles, still flashing you that sharp, sexy smile. “Because you know I’m the only one who can handle that bratty ass of yours.” 

He then turns and waves a hand. You don’t know what for until a taxi suddenly glides over to the curb and stops. Baji walks to the backdoor and opens it before looking back at you expectantly, his eyes molten with lust.

“Now get in the fuckin’ car, Y/N.” You know you shouldn’t get in the car and go anywhere with him, but you can’t deny how much he makes your pussy throb. So against your better judgment, you crawl into the backseat of the cab and tell the driver your address. 

Hours later after being stripped out of your dress, shown extensive foreplay, and having your pussy eaten like Baji hasn’t had anything to eat in decades, you find yourself being fucked against the wall with your arms and legs wrapped tight around the long-haired, tattooed man who holds you against him as he pummels his thick, hard cock into your tight, wet pussy again and again. The bedroom is filled with the sound of your mixed moans and skin slapping against skin as he pistons his hips into you, making you see stars. 

It doesn’t take long for your pussy to start quivering around his cock, squelching and dripping the more he fucks it. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life and you’re able to hold back anymore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Baji!” you practically scream. “Can’t…can’t take it! I’m gonna cum!” 

Baji shakes his head, gripping your hair with one hand while he hikes you up onto his waist with the other, showing you how lightweight you are to him. “Uh-uh, bratty girl,” he huffs. “Not yet, mama. I need to feel more of this pretty pussy flutterin’ around me.”

He thrusts harder, faster, drawing whines and sobs out of you. You begin to claw at his back where a large tattoo dedicated to Toman is inked into his back muscles. “You cum when I say, understand?” he growls into your ear. 

You weakly nod, willing to do anything he says if that means you can cum. “Now shut the fuck up, and take this dick.” You do so, stopping your protests as he fucks you stupid until you cream all over his cock while he fills you up to the brim…but of course, you only do it when he says so. You find that you love doing what he tells you to. 

When everything is said and done, you both crumble to your bedroom floor and Baji pecks your cheek. “Best blind date ever, right?” he chuckles.

BENIMARU SHINON (FIRE FORCE)

*Note: Reader is Goth! 

“God, kill me,” you sigh, standing in front of the theater doors. “Why did I agree to do this? He could be a serial killer or something!” 

You contemplate leaving, but you already promised your best friend that you’d go through with this stupid blind date on this stupid ass holiday. “Please just try and go along with it for tonight, Y/N!” she practically begged. “I promise he’s a nice guy! And I already told him you agreed! Just give it a chance and I promise you that I’ll never bother you about dating again.” 

You groaned, sitting across from her at a bar. “Fuck,” you sighed. “Fine. Can I least pick the movie?” Your friend eagerly nodded, so you purposely picked a romance/horror movie marathon showing that the theatre does every year for Valentine’s Day. The kind with blood n guts, gothic vampires, and slashers. Surprisingly, the guy still agreed to come much to your dismay and you had no choice but to come out. 

You know that your friend did this as a way to get you to start dating. You swear she thinks that one of these days that you’ll hang yourself from the shower rod with how lonely you are…and this has zero to do with you being goth. Though you love the color black, but you’re not depressed. You love dark makeup and rock music, but that’s what you love. You’ve always adored gothic fashion and the aesthetic, so that’s what you live. 

However, some people think it’s weird. Though Tokyo is full of eccentric and different type of fashion, goth isn’t particularly “popular” in your Black family or side of the city. And it certainly isn’t popular with the guys. You don’t care. You love yourself and you’re not about to change for anyone. So you dress in your finest black attire with a mini leather skirt, thigh-high stockings, and boots that make you feel powerful and sexy. Your makeup is dark, your mascara is sharp, your nails are as long and sharp as claws, and chains drip from your leather jacket. 

You wonder what your date will be like. Apparently, he’s a well-regarded and respected officer in the Special Fire Force, among the strongest there is. But you don’t recognize him when he comes up the road from his side of the city. He is tall and has a lean build that is hidden behind a black sweater and baggy jeans. His locks of black hair hang in his face, but not enough to hide his different set of eyes: his right pupil is a red circle with one black dot in the middle while his iris is black; his left is red with a white X in the middle, reminding you of a game of tic, tac, toe. 

“Hey,” he greets easily. “You waitin’ for someone?” You scowl at him, crossing your ams over you chest. “Why are you asking?” you ask sharply. The stranger raises his big hands in defense, taking a step back. “I’m not trying you, I promise. I’m just wondering if you’re this Y/N that’s supposed to be waiting here for me.” 

You squint at him, cocking your head to the side to see him at a different angle. “Benimaru?” you question. “Huh. You don’t look how I thought at all.” He is handsome but not enough to knock you off your game. He quirks a small smirk and you have a feeling that this dude don’t smile often. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he wryly chuckles. “For the record, you’re not bad on the eyes either…if that’s what you meant.” 

You don’t acknowledge his compliment or react even though your stomach flips. You’re not used to anyone complimenting you on the account of your black lipstick and mascara. “So should we go in or stay out here to freeze to death?” you sarcastically ask. You huff and turn on your heel before Benimaru can even answer or follow you. 

He easily beats you to the door on his long legs and opens it for you, towering over you as he does. “Is sarcasm just natural for you?” he asks, dry humor in his voice as you step into the theater. You feel a pang of guilt at your behavior. It’s not his fault your friend orchestrated this. 

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I’ll admit, I’m not too hype about being here. Dating isn’t really my thing, but my friend insisted I come on this stupid blind date…no offense.” Benimaru barely blinks at you walk to the ticket counter. “None taken. My friend, Konro, swore I needed a Valentine’s Day date when the whole holiday isn’t even a holiday. It’s pure BS.” 

“Ugh, agreed,” you scoff, rolling your pretty, brown eyes ringed in mascara “It’s just a way for companies to continue to capitalize off of hopeless romantics and couples. Not to mention all of that pink.” 

Benimaru nearly misses that, too busy thinking about how pretty your eyes are. “I’m takin’ you don’t like pink?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Not that your clothes are a dead giveaway or anything.” His interestingly alluring eyes tick up and down your outfit, making you feel hot under all of the leather. “I just like black,” you laugh. “But don’t get me wrong; I wear other colors sometimes, but only on a minuscule level.” 

“Your friend said you were a gothic chick,” he chuckles, giving you a mischievous smirk. You send it right back as you take out the two tickets your friend sent you for the movie. “As gothic as they come,” you retort. Benimaru just hums in response, particularly liking you in that mini skirt and the way it swishes around your thighs. 

After buying the tickets, you two wander into the small waiting area where a bar, a cafe, and an arcade occupy the space. “So the movie starts in about fifteen minutes. Should we head in now?” Benimaru doesn’t answer at first, too busy staring at the arcade games. “Nah,” he replies, nodding at the flashing, noisy games. “We can kill some time in here.” He begins to walk over, expecting you to follow. “Your friend also said you’re shit at racing games,” he says with a smirk shot your way. 

“Not true!” you scoff, crossing your arms. He shrugs pausing in the threshold of the arcade to wait for you. You finally give in, taking off your jacket to reveal your black crop top. “Fine, but only if we got time for the shooting games too. I wanna kill some zombies.” Benimaru nods, secretly laughing to himself as you follow him into the arcade. 

You spend way more than fifteen minutes in that bitch, playing all the games you can. Benimaru is good at almost everything, playing each game with skill and precision. He lets you win most of the time, just liking to see you smile and laugh in pride when you win a racing game or beat him at ping pong. During the zombie game, you get overrun by the undead while holding your plastic machine gun and you feel him lightly touch your elbow to point the gun straight. His touch sends shivers all over you. You win the first half until you run out of time and Benimaru smirks at you. “I totally helped you with that,” he sniggers. 

You also play basketball, shooting them repeatedly through hoops. He always gets the farthest hoop and the highest points, winning every round. “You only won ‘cause you’re taller,” you huff, bumping your hip with his as you walk by. It gives him the perfect opportunity to watch your ass sway in that damn skirt, making him hard as a rock for you. 

As walk to get something to drink, you stop at one game in particular: the crane game. It holds dozens of little plushies that you’re obsessed with, including the little black plague doctor with its big eyes and fluffy beak. Benimaru smirks at you staring at the game, walking up beside you. “I saw you looking at this thing the whole time,” he says. "You couldn't have been any less discreet.” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, still staring at the plushie. He notices and pulls out his last arcade coin. “What, you want it?” You quickly shake your head, turning to leave. “We’re gonna miss the movie anyways, so–“ 

“Fuck it,” he carelessly interrupts, shocking you. “You obviously want that penguin, so I’ll get it for you.” 

You roll your eyes, sighing. “It’s not even a penguin; it’s a plague doctor Squishable. It ain’t a big deal for me to have it, Benimaru.” But your date just glares at you as he bends down to put the coin in the slot. “And it ain’t a big deal for me to get it for you,” he argues. “If we miss the movie, we’ll just go for food.” 

You are floored by his stubbornness and refusal to give up until he’s made you happy. How can that be? You only just met and yet here he is, using his last coin to try to get you a stupid plushie! You watch with bated breath as he plays the game, moving the crane slowly as he fixes his eyes on the plushie. Once he’s moved the crane right over the plushie, he hits a button, causing the crane to sink down into the sea of stuffed animals. The crane’s hooks latch onto the peak of the plushie and, slowly, he moves it over to the opening in the corner to release it.

The crane plays music and lights up in victory as the plushie rolls down the chute into Benimaru’s hand. He turns to you, an unreadable look on his face. “Here,” he says passively. “I figured goth girls didn’t like cute shit like this…but he is kinda creepy.” 

You take the plushie, just staring at it for a moment. All of the sudden, you feel weird. You feel tingly and butterflies flutter around in your stomach. That never happens, but it’s happening for this guy! “Thanks,” you softly, and very shyly, say. Benimaru shrugs like it isn’t anything to him, but it is to you. “Y’know, the movie marathon is gonna be showing another night too…” You trail off, looking down at your shoes to avoid seeing his eyes. 

“So you want another night with me?” he asks. Quickly, you turn on your heel and stomp out of the arcade, leaving him utterly confused. “What?” he calls after you, sounding genuinely baffled. “It was just a question!” 

A second night with him does happen two weeks later and you do see the midnight marathon, but neither of you pay any attention to the first move that plays. You’re too busy bouncing on your date’s thick, veiny cock in the darkness of the theater to watch the film, biting back your moans despite the seats being empty. Benimaru softly grunts and moans into your ear as your walls flex around him, his eyes transfixed on the way your ass jiggles as he lifts up your skirt. 

“Fuck, Beni!” you moan. “Y-You’re s-so fuckin’ big!” You grip his thighs with your long nails as his dick stretches you out in the best way, a delicious ache coming in your calves with the effort it takes to bounce on him. Benimaru stands up and bends you over the seat in front of you, beginning to fuck you from behind. He is fast and nails that single spot every time that makes you have to cover your mouth because you’re so loud. 

“Shh, shh, baby,” he coos into your ear as he continues to pound into you from behind. “You don’t want security comin’ to find us, do you? Or maybe you do, you little slut, fuckin’ your date in the movie theatre.” He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls, much to your enjoyment of being slutted out in the dark. Anyone could walk in and see you fucking right now. It’s so naughty. So sexy. 

The thrill of it must be getting to Benimaru too because he speeds up his thrusts, his balls slapping against your clit as his hand smacks against your ass, gripping it tight. “Shit, baby, you’re gonna make cum!” he groans, tossing his head back at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around him. “Cum with me! Make that pretty fuckin’ pussy cum around my cock!” 

You quickly begin to rub you swollen clit in time with his thrusts and soon enough, you’re cumming all over his cock. “Fuck!” you scream into your hand as your orgasm tears through you. Benimaru cums too, filling you up with a long groan that he bites back as best as he can among the movie playing. He lets you come down from cloud nine before pulling out, letting his cum leak down your thighs. He turns you around, pumping his cock soaked in your juices. “Not yet,” he growls. “Put it back in your mouth and taste yourself.” 

You get on your knees, panties at your ankles and leather skirt hiked up. Benimaru wastes no time thrusting into your mouth, using it as his very own fucktoy, as he watches your brown eyes ringed in mascara stare up at him eagerly. When he pulls away to cum again, your black lipstick stains his cock, marking him as yours.

“Fuck!” he gasps as he cums all over your pretty face, ruining your eye makeup. It is now but black smears down your cheeks as his nut drips all over your face and cheeks. 

“Poor baby,” he chuckles. “Your mascara’s runnin’. I bet you worked so hard on it.” He takes a napkin from your movie snacks and dabs away the cum. “So cute,” he sighs, marveling at how utterly adorable you look. You giggle, feeling deliriously good and cute, just as he says. 

Yeah. A third date is most definitely in the future for you now. 

[raitonsfw]

𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 '𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai has gifted you many things in the years that you’ve known him. Jewelry, books, clothes, lingerie… Anything that he thought suited you. When you wear one of his gifts to the agency without thinking, it was just supposed to be another day at work. But little did you know that the reason why Dazai bought you the black dress was that it was for his eyes and his eyes only. And not to mention the matching set that you wore underneath it practically sparkled in the luminosity of the office.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, exhibitionism, embarrassment, lingerie, fingering, dirty talk, teasing, slight degradation, dazai's a little mean, petnames (sweetheart, baby, darling, dear), use of honorifics.

a/n: dazai basically fingers the reader on the train ride home cuz he just couldn't wait. my friend gave me this idea and it was so fun to write. nice to write fem!readers again after writing character ships for so long. defs needed a breather. wc: 2.2k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The train wasn’t too busy, though to you it seemed like everyone and their mother took this exact train in order to spite you. You don’t know why Dazai had insisted on taking the train from the agency today, the hurriedness of it confusing you even more. Normally the both of you would walk the streets of downtown Yokohama in order to get home, stopping to sightsee and shop a bit along the way. Sometimes he’d buy you dinner on the edge of the river, other days he’d bring you to your favorite bookstore.

But today he was absolutely restless to get home, with quicker footing than usual and a hush to his voice. You were filled with concern because of this. He was never quiet, the boy was like a walking radio to you as he’d chatter (or sing) away the afternoon about anything and everything. When you both reached the station and past the people that crowded it, his lips were bitten red and he kept a hand pressed against your lower back, ushering you into the train carefully.

Fortunately for you, you both had ended up on the last train where barely anyone sat. Most of the people you had pushed through earlier sat up near the front of the train car and onwards, filling the spaces with awkward silence. Dazai snagged a seat to your left, next to the divider of the sliding doors. He leaned into it as the train made its way down the tracks, crossing his leg over his other with his hands folded neatly in his lap.

“Dazai-san, are you okay?” You asked, your voice a bit dry as you hadn’t spoken much since you left the agency. Putting a hand on his thigh to soothe his bouncing leg, he turned to you with a slight flinch but quickly registered your hand’s warmth and gave you a small grin.

“Never been better,” Dazai said, the fakeness of the smile evident. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve seemed quieter than usual.”

“I just can’t wait to get home.” He sighed out gently, whimsicality etching his tone.

One of his hands had come to rest on yours and he rubbed it lovingly. He seemed calmer than before, but something was still bothering him. You decided to backtrack the day in your head; you two didn’t do much today at the agency.

You had looked over some of the papers Kunikida had assigned to you, ran a small errand with Atsushi, and watched Dazai successfully manage to steal a sweet from Ranpo without him knowing. Nothing else out of the ordinary stuck out to you and you frowned a little, still unsure as to why Dazai was being so weird.

“You can tell me if something’s bothering you.” You frowned at him and it looked like he almost caved, his mouth falling open to speak. But you second guessed yourself as he shut it quickly, his eyes falling past your lips.

Something was bothering him, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that the dress you put on exposed your lingerie in the most discreet of places. The agency’s lights did you no justice, making the crimson colored set pop out underneath the dusky sheerness of your dress. Perhaps if he had been walking behind you in the evening glow of the sun, he would’ve had to fuck you behind a bush on the way home.

No one else noticed it, too preoccupied in their work to even give you a glance other than to say hi and if they did...well Dazai would’ve known. He watched you like a hawk all day, making sure no one mentioned it to you, partially in fear of embarrassment but mostly because he didn’t want you to change.

But yeah, something was bothering him and that was his dick.

The entire day he was hard, was aching for you to look at him and realize what you did to him. He curled up in the corner of the couch with his knees almost pressed to his chest, hiding the bulge as much as he could for most of the day. But you were too busy to pay attention to him being the hell of a worker you are; of course you couldn’t possibly have noticed his predicament– the predicament you caused.

Not even when he pulled his overcoat over his lap when you talked to him about past missions, you didn’t bat an eye. Not when his sentences faltered a few times during a meeting with Fukuzawa, did you even think to ponder why. And definitely not when he dashed off to the restroom more than a few times (only to come back with a bit of an attitude), did you realize that you were the cause of his pressing situation.

He couldn’t quite catch a break today, could he? You walked into the office, knowing damn well he gifted you that dress with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. He even wrapped the bow on the gift box neatly, paired it with little explicit intent that it was for him. And not to mention that matching set you were wearing, also courtesy of his lust for you. The red lace peeked out just enough from the cut of the dress and he had to hold back the gasp that left his mouth when he recognized what lingerie set it was. You were decked out in his finest picks, innocently running around the office with papers falling from your arms whilst sucking up to Kunikida’s hellish requests.

“Y/N-san, you wore the dress I bought for you.” He pointed out, a bit uncertain of how to explain to you that it was sheer. “It’s beautiful on you.”

Your face lit up at the compliment. “I am! To be honest, I had nothing else to wear and I decided this would be a nice change. Instead of my regular pantsuits.”

“Would I be an asshole if I tell you it’s see through?” Dazai decided to come straight out, chuckling lightly. He watched your face fall and he immediately regretted telling you. Maybe he should’ve waited until you guys got home.

“No way, it’s not!”

“And that red number you’ve been wearing is...” He continued in a seductive whisper, leaning closer into you. “Why do you think I bought it, sweetheart?”

“I wore it in front of the entire agency, Dazai-san!” You hissed out, the embarrassment reddening against your neck and you attempted to hide it beneath the collar of the dress. No wonder he gawked at you the entire day, no wonder he stumbled through his sentences, no wonder he rushed you to the train station, no wonder he-

“Oh, please. Someone would’ve told you if it was extremely noticeable.” He could turn this around. He was an expert at that, his fingers tracing up your delicate sleeve. Dazai brought your hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss on the back of it, his eyes louring as he looked at you from his peripherals. “On the other hand…I wish I told you sooner.”

“I’ve been holding back all day as you dumbly walked around the office like you damn near owned it." His right hand slipped underneath your dress, latching onto your thigh. “Thought of so many positions I could fuck you in…if only the supply closet was enough for you but you hate dark places. Maybe the president would’ve let us leave early, then I could’ve bent you over the-”

“Not so loud.” You shushed him, trying hard not to relinquish yourself to the warmth against your thigh. It was too late though, your arousal had you wrapped around his pretty little finger, yearning for more.

Dazai dropped your hand on his lap, pulling it over the bulge of his trousers. You palmed lightly at it without much thought, feeling the curve of his erection within its confines. “Look what you did to me, baby…Had me almost humping my hand with how good you looked. Not like you cared though since you were so busy with Atsushi-kun today.”

He huffed out a small whine as you pulled your hand away quickly, peeking around the corner to see if anyone saw his action. Everyone was still peering towards the front of the train car, idly scrolling through their phones or listening to music that was much too loud in the ear. The divider covered almost all of Dazai’s lap, a basic blind spot, but you were still nervous.

The feeling of his fingers grasping against your inner thigh shot you from your thoughts as they mingled upwards to the heat of your cunt. You were already dizzy with excitement but this couldn’t happen. Not in such a public place, the strangers amongst you would definitely hear your soft whimpers. Though the thought of that made you see stars, the adrenaline rushed in your blood and directly down to the pit of your abdomen. The heat pooled there, lingered as his lithe fingers pulled at the thin lace covering your clit.

“There’s people at the front of the train, we can’t just-” You whispered, trying to move away from his hand but he had already felt the wetness that collected against the naughty material. His fingers pushed through you delicately and you shuddered at the feeling, a quiet gasp leaving your mouth.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore, darling.” He pleaded quietly in your ear, nipping at the soft shell of it. He left a kiss behind your ear and gave you a small hush as a whine got stuck in the back of your throat. “If it makes you feel better, I can lay my coat over you.”

You nodded quickly and mere seconds later, his discarded coat was thrown over top of you to shield the neighboring passengers. His hand found its way back between your legs, in the exact position he had it before and you brought the sleeve of his coat up to your mouth to muffle your moans.

“D-Dazai-san…” You breathed out as his ring finger circled your clit whilst his pointer and middle plunged into you with no remorse. He kept a shallow pace, thrusting in and out slowly to avoid extra noise (though he wouldn't have minded hearing the way your slick sounded as you became wetter with each press of his fingers). His other hand held his phone out in front of you on your lap, scrolling mindlessly through social notifications– to distract the people around you. In case you got caught. Sneaky bastard.

“Look at what Kunikida-kun posted today on our website! He’s so savvy, isn’t he?” He beamed at you and you couldn’t even respond back, pleasure swirling around in your head as Dazai continued fucking his fingers into you. Changing his pace to unabating pressure that nestled against your clit, you squirmed in your seat. Your legs threatened to close against his arm but you forced them to stay open, near silent whimpers pouring from your mouth.

Dazai wanted to hear them, those pretty moans that he forced from you, but he picked pretty bad timing to teeter you off the edge of pure ecstasy. He loved the way you clenched tightly around his fingers as he found your sweet spot– your face contorted with a slight furrow to your eyebrows and you panted into his coat sleeve like it was your source of oxygen.

“Looks like there’s rain tonight, guess we can’t go on that walk anymore.” He pouted innocently and you felt your nerves screaming at you– faster, closer, so close you squeezed your eyes shut harshly at the growing pleasure. A moment later, you were falling apart against his fingers, desperate to keep quiet as your whole body shuddered in his palm. Your whole body tensed up as you let out a rather loud moan, much louder than you thought, though it was talked over by Dazai’s glorious distraction. He didn’t stop moving as you fluttered around his fingers and you gripped onto his bandaged wrist with a weak hand.

He slipped them out of you as you calmed down, a quiet sigh resonating through the fabric of the coat. You felt him wipe them off against the inner material of it and he stood up, stretching his arms up. Throwing on his coat smugly, he looked at you and offered his hand out. “Our stop’s coming up, dear.”

You knew you’d look like a deer in headlights if you stood up, still flushed from moments before. You took his hand though, wobbling as you gained your footing while the train decreased in speed. As you smoothed your dress down you remembered the reasoning why this all happened and you cleared your throat, a sheepish smile coming to light in the corners of your mouth.

“Let’s get you home quickly before the rain comes.” Dazai said as the train halted to a stop, the doors sliding open. He moved you in front of him, his palm flush to the small of your back again. As you stepped off the train, he leaned down to the shell of your ear to murmur something.

“Keep the dress on for me when I fuck you properly.” Just a reminder what’s his and his only.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[astral-gamma]

bsd x reader when some bsd men are talking to another woman or person and they seem to be getting just a liiiittle too comfy so reader get jealous and is clingy all day but doesn't speak and/or ignores them. reader can be fem or gn

fluff , no smut or seggs pls

chars: fyodor, nikolai, dazai, ranpo and whoever else you want! (but maily fyodor cuz i'm a s.i.m.p)

(i can see reader just dragging niko where ever she/they go but don't even make eye contact with him)

u wanted requests and i thoughts of this so you can do it whenever u want and also thank you!

Characyers: Fyodor-Dazai-Nikolai-Ranpo (separeted) making reader jealous ^^

Note!: this took so long yet i couldve done much better 'cause i dont really like it *cries*

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ── ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ──

FYODOR 

Fyodor has been spending the whole day with this cute girl and ignoring you, it's not as we was cheating on you,you knew that, and you also knew that she Was just a pice for a new plan of his… yet he was only looking at her you kinda felt bad and sad. you felt a shockwave go through you as you  saw him smiling with her, a sudden jealously that I had not expected. His enthusiastic motions drew her in like a magnet as he leaned in a bit too near. You observed from a distance, creating fantastical stories about their friendship in your head. What were the secrets they were sharing during those giggly conversations? you couldn't help but feel irritated by his lack of interest.

As the day went by , dusk approached, the boy with darker locks eventually decided to come back to the house you shared.

Your cheeks were still wet from the tears you had just cried, and you were already fast asleep, cuddled up under the covers of your large bed. Fyodor, who was incredibly smart despite everything, saw this and knew right once what was going on.He knew what was coming for the day when he woke up the next morning with you in his arms (obviously, it wasn't bothering him in the least; in fact, he was just glad to have you close)... He probably knew that you had no intention of leaving him for at all, and for the rest of the day, Fyodor tried to work but was distracted by your soft touches and gentle actions. Eventually, he gave up and paid attention to you, giving you the cuddles and small gestures that you sorely needed.

"Still jealous my Mishka?"

You said nothing just stayed in is warmth “oh my,my dear i love you and you only”

DAZAI

we all know how dazai flirts with all girls but this time he went over the limit and spent the whole time talking to the waitress despite her and YOUR  discomfort. It was supposed to be your date and what does he do? Flirts and is with another girl!!!? 

When you were then on your way home he tried to talk to you and start a conversation but your responses were a simple "mh mh" or "yeah sure" in a cold and uncaring tone and this behavior went on until the next morning. You had calmed down and were getting up and noticed that the raven-haired boy had already disappeared to who knows where....

You got ready to go to work and noticed that your boyfriend was already there,without thinking much about it I took the chair and stood beside him linking your arms to his upper arm

He looked at you with a confused look

"Bella! You need"

No answer

"Bella?" 

No answer,just you snuggling into his arm

He understood and left you there while he did everything but work

NIKOLAI

Having a bright and cheeky nature, Nikolai would naturally draw attention from others.

You observed with a sinking heart as Nikolai struck up conversations with appealing girls.

You wondered, your mind racing with uncertainties and fears, "What if Nikolai prefers the company of those girls over me?"

You couldn't get rid of the uneasy sensation in the air that night as they sat by the fireplace because you couldn't look Nikolai in the eyes."What troubles you, my love?" With a soft voice, Nikolai questioned.

But you remained silent.You rushed up from where you were sitting and hopped on him, giving him a tight embrace without saying anything. The man realized after some consideration that you were probably overthinking things.

 Nikolai held your hands in his and soothed your anxious state with kind words of passion and love as his eyes softened with tenderness. He explained that while he appreciated the beauty of others, it was you who held the key to his heart, and no one else was comparable to you.

RANPO 

Ranpo acts and behaves in a very childish manner; he is direct in everything he says and does, frequently acting without hesitation.

He doesn't even understand it at first—he's the greatest investigator in all of Japan, yet he's incredibly naive—he doesnt even realise hes making you jealous and kinda feel bad.He didn't even look at you during a investigation in which you were tasked with assisting him, and he ignored you if you had something to say. All he was thinking about was that case and how he could make himself stand out and demonstrate that he was the greatest, the smartest, he and he only...

You'd be lying if you said this behavior wasn't upsetting you.You choose to remain in the distance, maybe to let time pass or in hopes that someone would eventually take notice of you.

Ranpo only returned to you a few hours later, mumbling about how foolish everyone was in comparison to him after Ranpo's Ultra Deduction had solved the case.

You didn't respond, and he realized right away—not because of his incredible deduction, per se, but also because he observed your depressing attitude.

He let you snuggle and love him because he knew deep down thats what you wanted and opened his arms to make you feel better and in hope you'll forgive him. 

[qvrcll]

I ALWAYS GIGGLE WHENEVER I READ PREGGY READER X LEON AND YOUR WRITING IS JUST *CHEFS KISS* . AND I JUST HAVE ONE IN MINDFFDDD

So it goes by Leon(i suggest the re4r, cuz he such a pookie😍) and the reader being in a long term relationship, however due to some reasons they broke up. A month later, they were partnered for a mission, and while they were on a mission, they were like so awkward. Not until the reader was slowing down and can't run that much which made leon a bit worried. And the thing is the reader doesn't even know that she's pregnant (OMGGG, IMAGINE THAT THEY ALREADY RESCUED ASHLEY, AND ASHLEY WAS THE ONE WHO TOLD HER THAT SHE MIGHT BE PREGNANT.)

(i need to reconnect with nature im going feral with leon)

wish i was good, wish that i could

summary: following leon’s absence, you fall into a damning pattern. a cycle of something worth nothing. and as you’re paired with him on a mission, everything professional is boiled into that broken, hurting night.

warnings: nsfw mentioned, mentions of vomit / throwing up, pregnancy, major angst / comfort, re4r!leon in mind

warnings: i really don’t know if i hate this or like it, because i was sort of burnt out but this turned out a whole lot angstier than i expected. but i hope u enjoy my dear!! :-]

It’s December when Leon leaves you for good, shatters what imminent ‘thing’ you had calibrated within each other’s sheets, messy and marked with pleasure against the weekend, with your bodies having memorised each scar, each virgule and stir that made your belly itch with that wonted release.

And yet, he tears the warmth of that — those late night, unlabelled presses in the name of a swift, empty sort of business that flushed into a thick-skinned, scary love — in the middle of the night. His boots are lined with some dirt, his jacket sheening with a stain he can’t bother to name, but his fingers are numb and burry with an odd feeling, something that comes and drifts within the crack of his touch, when his hand grips your front door.

And he’s so close.

So close to finding reprieve of this suffocating feeling scratching the vermillion, milky flesh that nested deep against his bones when you called in the night, when you played with the mess of blonde hairs on his head, when your touches meant more than just baseless acquittal.

So close to abandoning this itching feeling that he’s not the right body for you to hold — that he’s rotten and crushed to the bone. Ugly and ill-fit for you to love, not explore with slender fingers. And when your fingers prod against the flesh of his heart, he flinches. Realises, curses and escapes like he’s known best.

And yet, he pauses, clenches his jaw as the rub of your feet squeak against the wood of your apartment floor.

“Leon…?” your voice calls, nimble and picked apart by sleep. Something heavy, he presumes, because he’s counted your breaths, donned them in corollaries in the dead of night and attempted to forget them, mark them as dead on his skin in the same night — but he curses, laughs dryly against his own skin as his heart spikes in the vibrance of your laugh, knowing he’s cursed himself.

“It’s nothing… go back to bed,” he says, says your name later. The chill of him is fresh and unfamiliar, contrasting the heavy night you’d shared with fluctuating breaths and the collision of skin, hot and messy and unapologetic. And yet, he’s collected himself up on staggering bones, marked like chalk and a brittle little thing, as he turns to face you with something grim in his voice, “I need some time alone.”

“What?” there’s ten steps separating the two of you, and you hark any attempt to near him. He feels like he stings. Burns, with that gush of coldness about him.

Still, you need to ask.

“What is it?”

And your breath is bordering on frantic, as you squint, try to find him in the darkness. Try to draw him against your fingers, feel him against your skin and against the cartilage in your chest, deep-seated like a muscle you cannot renounce. But he’s slipping, cleaving against the meat of your chest as something evil, something entirely him in nature.

And it scares you.

“Leon—“

“Just—go to sleep,” he repeats, his tone firm. Some part of him regrets ever coming. Ever answering the frequent ring of your calls in the dead of night. Regrets, in his own mind, the swelter of your fingers against every bare inch of him there is to name. And yet, his body warms at the thought. Tenses, shrivels to nothing at all as he turns to the door.

“Leon, whatever you’re doing, stop,” your voice cracks, somewhere in the middle, parting against the choke that fights up your throat, “Please—just come back to bed.”

The tremble of your voice.

The blink in your step.

The shake in your all.

He notes it all. Commits it to memory. Shames himself for the beginning of it. Prevails it till the end.

His eyes are back on you — two searing beads of cobalt fleshing against you like something sour. Something bloody and bruised. Something spelling ‘penance’ in all the wrong letters.

“Good-night,” he says. Your name, he calls out. And he’s out of the door before you can fight against him to stop.

It’s several weeks after that you muster the courage to ring his line again — some part of you melts against the wooden counter, grips the pliable telephone like a vice in your clammy hands, your heart in your throat as you wait for his voice to smudge against the crackling rings.

And yet, he doesn’t pick up.

You’re hard on yourself for some time later — hard on the fact that you’d assuaged such a war on yourself to not notice his fleeting habituation, his warmth against the click of your knuckles on darkening days slipping into a filthy line of disillusionment as you return to your home. Empty, crawling with the smell of his noisome departure.

And on the other side of something familiar, Leon suffers all the same. That crawling, desperate feeling you’d implemented in him has scratched a dam him, bled him raw and filthy on the tile of his bathroom floor as he gathers the mess of himself with shaky hands. He glances at himself in the mirror, tries to determine just where the man he knew himself to he had lammed.

His ears ring.

His fingers flinch with the bite of his basin.

His eyes sink with a brutal feeling.

He misses you.

Weeks pass and you’re starting to forget the feel of him — the smell of his hair leaves you, the stretch of his smile now strange and off-putting. You mark it down to repulsion, to seething hatred, but you determine the lie in it.

You miss Leon like you miss anything, with the sheer strength of your dying love.

And it’s strange, you think, as you find yourself hunched against the toilet, releasing this morning’s breakfast with little restraint. The choke of it in your throat disgusts you, as the thought of Leon’s touch lingering in this bathroom does too, in frequencies of its own.

And you haven’t gotten half the heart to press the issue.

It’s a month without any form of contact and you’ve lost the smell of him, the touch of him. The thought of him comes as a bore, you fool yourself. The severity of his vision deep like an ocean you’d nearly killed yourself with remembering — and yet, on strange nights, you think of him. Think of the spit of his bones and muscles, of his kindness. Of his habit to mull things over till they were rotten and ugly beyond any chance of reprieve.

It’s a month without any strength in his bones, with which Leon carves a hole into the bed with his weight — he feels aimless, carding through the days with ill health. The alcohol cuts just enough for him, and the food he eats is takeaway. Foreign places, none of those familiar cuisines you would order late into the night.

The thought of it makes him sick.

Makes him choke with guilt and the thought of ‘what if?’

He goes to sleep a ghost against the sheets.

It’s some months when you ditch the self-sorry act in which you brand yourself over the days with — Hunnigan’s line rings once, twice and she picks up with a familiarity in her voice.

Ain’t that easy, you think bitterly.

It’s regular business — she greets you, debriefs you, informs you of the nights callings and of the days prior. Your leave from the enforcement has cost you a flitting pile of work and yet, Hunnigan finds it in herself to press the issue of your health first. She doesn’t know what’s happened between you and Leon, but she knows you. And she knows you in a sense that made the hurt burn like fresh skin, like a wound too bloody to heal.

“And… how are you?” she asks. You answer, something mandated. Something unconsciously revised by your system and yet, she rejects the bait, “How are you, really?

And you cry into the line. Fuel the crackle with the guise of your tears as you dry-heave. The spill of him seeps through your bones, drags memories apart that have longed their stay, that have bided to burn you for good.

And she listens.

She soothes.

She curses him out in the name of everything good, and a dry chuckle leaves you as the poke of everything familiar marks the undercurrents of everything new.

Leon is informed of the mission like it’s something to commit to the bit by. The days training are gruelling and he’s in for a bitter joke when the world is placed on his shoulders — maybe it could’ve been something humorous, but when Hunnigan mentions the word ‘partner,’ he freezes over.

“Partner?” he whispers into the line, baffled. Mulling the idea within his thickset fingers.

“Yes, partner. They will accompany you on your mission to save ‘Baby Eagle’ when the time is right,” Hunnigan replies, leaves no room for reply, “This is final. I’m sorry, Leon.”

He supposes he should be upset, but he’s just perturbed. The idea of a partner comes foreign to him and yet, his brain forces the outline of you against the thought of it. It presses your flesh against his teeth and the smell of your skin when it came to him in bits in pieces.

He feels you like he has for the first time.

He remembers you like he still has you.

He bites his tongue, resumes his activities because the flesh of you is not to keep — it’s just for him to think of when the night darkens into a cold fog too delirious to not think of much at all.

The wait is gruelling.

You’re sweat-marked, ill and pale around the cheeks as you exit the bathroom again. You cannot possibly fathom the prospect of food poisoning on a third-week round, and yet, you feel yourself regurgitating much of it. There’s an inclusion of odd combinations you try; pickles and chocolate, orange juice and noodles. It makes you wonder, makes you think.

And yet it never presses for longer than a moment — nothing to catalyse into concern.

It’s 8’oclock, and the chill of the night is a reminder of your mortality — your arm is caught on the couch arm and your legs are perched against the opposite part of it. Your television blurs with unfamiliar faces, flitting names and tones, and you’re struck with something familiar, deep-set in your bones like fury.

And in a second, you’ve dragged the land-line in your lap, typing his number like the way you breathe.

Tomorrow could very well be your last.

Could be nothing.

It could all go to shit and he wouldn’t know.

He’s got to know.

Your finger dials. You press the cold device to your ear.

You panic. Bite before you breathe. Shut it off and head to bed.

He doesn’t have to know.

You’re being briefed by Hunnigan when you think you’ve been struck dumb by lightning — everything crumbles to less than a resolve when she informs you that you’d be partnered with a fellow agent on the mission.

“Hunnigan, please,” you plead, beg past your teeth as you press the ear piece in closer. Try to determine whether or not she would swing in your favour; maybe botch the appropriate documents and have you work this mission to find Ashley Graham on your own. Maybe then, you’d find some moment of reprieve. Some time to keep the pieces to yourself and not dish it out to strangers in the name of small talk.

But Hunnigan is stone solid in her resolve, as she tracks her glasses higher against her face.

“I can’t change this — sorry. And, good-luck” she says. And her voice is foreign as it’s lost in the whirr of the transporting vehicle that reminds you of where you stand.

You think you go insane with the sight of him.

It all rushes in like a surge in a barge — his smell is intoxicating, metallic in a tinge that’s so upsetting it makes the bone hurt, makes it throb in something you deny wholly. His face is stoic, carded with indifference and yet, it is the one familiar thing in the car, two visionary pools that drown out the prior restriction you had held — perhaps, replaced it for the incredible awkwardness as you try to press yourself into the car door. Maybe even try to plummet out of the window itself, safe yourself the awful taste of his absence so clearly in the molten air.

“Long time no see” you say, your lips carving into something deliciously awkward. Sombre. He glances at you, eyes pinning all feeling against the flagstones you thought you’d destroyed with your own flesh and yet they persist. Persist as the ground he seems to so senselessly drag himself across — like a wounded thing, a creature of pity.

“It’s nice to see you,” he says, because what else does he do? Blink? Breathe? Because that is all he’s been crushing into the empty silence. To try to fill it with something he’s done so effortlessly and yet with you here, it’s manual. Run on baseless intuition that he forgets to live if he doesn’t live in you.

And yet…

The drive there is splendidly awkward, the walk into the church even moreso. You’re briefed every now and then, of pertinent belts on the map where the two of you float like two ghosts against unearthed land. He tracks mud on the floor, you carry blood on your clothes.

You both play your parts well; play it like he wasn’t the one living person to know you like the Earth knew the ocean. Like the sky knew nightfall.

But of course, with Leon, everything is cluttered. Messed into upheaval. Broken into something unsettled, of the past — het up like something that needed destroying and still, the feeling of want lingered in both of you like something to be mended.

It’s a blur when you two take a break — you’ve tracked Ashley and your hips are sore with the exertion of her escapade. You balance yourself against the wall, count your breaths as you try not to disembowel this morning’s contents against it.

Leon notices— he always does — and he comes forward with caution beneath his finger-tips, as he rubs the ball of your shoulder like you’d pounce.

“Is… everything okay?” he asks.

And as you turn to face him, you cough into your hands, swivelling around as tears meet your eye. The feeling scratches against your throat, like those harking nights spent against the tiled bathroom floors. Like those nights felt without the burn of his touch, just the chill of it instead — just the feel of your own bones sick of holding your bones in the place of him.

And you throw up against wall.

He calls your name, in worry, that much you catch in your sickness. The swelter of his touch is against your back, as he rubs it in according rhythms — something so domestic it made the feeling crawl right back into the back of your throat, stabbing the flesh like something cruel made with the press of him.

But he doesn’t relent. He cares for you like he loves you. Like he’s meant to hold you — you both fool yourselves into thinking he doesn’t.

It’s not quick business after that, as Ashley sits you atop crates and offers you water. Leon watches you with familiar, afraid eyes, as his gaze catches like something sharp intrudes his lungs again — it’s only when Ashley presses the idea of something delirious that you two snap out of it.

“Are you pregnant?” she asks. Her voice, nimble, probing and yet, it brings the crash of the world on your shoulders.

You had never seen anyone after Leon.

Only ever let him memorise the grooves against your skin.

Only ever let him in where there had been none before.

And as you meet his eyes, he looks back like he fears you’d disappear if he didn’t.

When the mission is concluded, briefed only a million times, Leon catches you on your scarper back home. In your mind, you’ve executed the plan of a pregnancy test and a mindless solemnity in your sheets, like a broken record. Something hard to break out of — but he breaks the intent of it. He interrupts it and places in a new itinerary.

“Hey, can we talk?”

You stagger against your feet as you look at him with a wounded expression, as if the request itself had done more insult to injury than most things left intimated. Left rotten and swelling at your doorstep the night he left.

“I don’t know, can we?” you bite back. Raise your shoulders. Play the part of the heretic. Hear the voice mocking you.

Idiot. You need this. You need him.

“Please — I’ve been thinking of… you, of us. Of what Ashley said, back then,” his voice starts, breaks, reminds you, “and I regret it.”

“Regret what?”

Your question comes blunt — unintentional. But harboured with something necessary.

“Regret leaving.”

Your heart is in your throat. Your legs throb with an ache. Your body looms with the threat of a dry-heave, but you keep standing. Withstand the blow of his admission.

“Why? Why did you leave?”

Your reply leaves him aimless — bloody, battered and naked for you to see the flesh underneath. If you picked apart the useless, flimsy thing left for display, you’d assimilate his hurt. His fear in loving you, fully, with feeling and the press of destiny like he had dreamt of because if you lost you in the trail of it, he’d lose it all.

“I left… because—because I was scared. Scared of loving you. Scared of losing you.”

“Who said you’re losing me?”

“I don’t — I don’t know. It was stupid. I’m sorry. I’m—sorry.”

He stalks forward, his fears against his feet as he promises yet again. He tracks blood on his back. You track dirt against your feet. You play the part well, of the injured. Of the battered and beaten and of the tender.

You play the part well.

“I’m sorry.”

Of you.

“It’s okay, Leon.”

Of the body you’ve missed to be yours.

“It’s okay.”

And as he crowds your arms, fills it with feeling and the thought of him again, something bleeding in your arms like peace again, here, promising you company across the horizon, a feeling of surety comes.

It comes.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[st4rbe0m]

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ FIX THIS FIXER UPPER - YJW

🍀 now playing - fixer upper from disney's Frozen 🍀 contents - frozen au, from the fairytales collection - click on my masterlist for Hoon's version!! implied cheating (cuz of the hans fiance), light angst, emotionally constipated jungwon, implied kissing 🍀 wc - 1.1K 🍀 a/n - kristoff lowkey underrated as hell icl, might make a part 2 :p

masterlist

We're not sayin' you can change him 'Cause people don't really change We're only saying that love's a force That's powerful and strange

The ice in your heart is spreading and not only you, but even Jungwon is acutely aware of this fact, as his fingers dig into the reins of his reindeer. He knew as soon as you emerged from your older sister’s ice castle, shivering uncannily, that something was wrong. Not that shivering in July was anything odd - not with the predicament Arendelle was under. But it was the way your eyes were downcast and you were clutching your chest that sent a sense of emergency through him, and he knew only his adoptive grandfather - the Elder Troll would have the solution to their problem. The way the reindeer’s eyes would flit back to him, questioningly, made him remember how he was breaching all of his rules of getting close to others just for this princess - a princess who was already engaged, nonetheless. 

You were unimpressed as he stood in the middle of the clearing in the woods, surrounded only by some moss covered rocks. All your years of isolation did have you a bit clueless about the world around you, outside the vast castle that often seemed like prison than home. But you knew for a fact that moss covered rocks wouldn’t be able to thaw your heart. That was until the rocks began rumbling eerily, and tumbled down all at once, grindingly as they morphed into little creatures about a foot tall near yours and Jungwon’s legs. Several pairs of eyes blinked at you both, and then broke into a cacophony of voices and exclamations. “Jungwon’s back!” “Jungwon’s back and he brought a girl!”, were the common phrases being gleefully yelled by the trolls around you.

Jungwon and you were similar in the way you both were raised, in the sense of your shared loneliness. While being shut away in the palace due to your sister’s powers made you desperate for any sort of experience, Jungwon’s childhood with the trolls made him averse to people. But you both craved a little bit of love. And up till now you believed you had found it in the princely fiance you had waiting back for you at home. “Oh, I’m so happy to meet you dear! Gosh, we thought Wonie here would turn into a rock himself the way he hasn’t met anyone in all these years we’ve had him!”, said a troll with a kindly, motherly face. From the fond way she spoke about him, you could tell this was the troll that had adopted the role of being Jungwon’s mother. “Sorry, what?” you puzzled yourself. And the trolls who had obviously misread the situation seemed to understand this too. 

“Come on dear, I know he’s not the best, but he’s just a bit of a fixer upper!”. “Is it because of his cat-like tendencies?”. It seemed that the trolls had begun a musical recitation of all the ways Jungwon was a bit different than the rest, and Jungwon just stood there absolutely mortified. 

“I bet it’s because of the way he always has twigs in his hair!”, “But you’ll never meet someone as sensitive and sweet.”, cooed a smaller troll. “He’s socially impaired!”, a gruff voice cut in, fondly ruffling his hair, “But a fixer upper is nothing love can’t fix!”. 

And between the voices singing and the way your amused grin grew larger, Jungwon cried out with a large cry, “Enough!”. This made the trolls stop mid-movement, shocked at this outburst. “She’s engaged to someone else!”, he explained with a huff of his breath. 

Blink. Blink. 

The trolls gathered in a circle amongst themselves, the little snowman you both had managed to befriend along the way joining in on the shenanigans for no reason other than entertainment.

“So she’s a bit of a fixer upper too, I see”, said one of the trolls, and immediately the one opposite him replied, “She’s gotta be fixed up too!”, the rest agreed. Discussions in hushed whispers continued, still agreeing that the best way to fix these fixer uppers was with each other, until the smallest of the lot cut in with his nasally voice and a wink, “And by the way, there’s no ring”. The flurry of moss-woven blankets and the crowns fashioned of sticks was hurriedly put on the both of you, happening so fast that Jungwon couldn’t stop them. And just like that you giggled at the way he stood opposite you in the pit holed into the ground, the way his eyes widened in surprise. The giggle caught his attention, which made his gaze soften. He had indulged himself enough, but couldn’t bear to stop. The glowing gemstones made your complexion seem more ethereal than normal. The pit was rather small, and he was backed into his heels, your toes touching the tips of his snow boots. He was absolutely enraptured. In true love almost. It seemed that something possessed the both of you, the way he bent his neck just to be a little closer to where your lips were, soft and inviting. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to move away, any thought of the man you’d just met before you'd set off on this adventure with Jungwon disappearing from your brain. Sure he was wonderful. But you’d only known him for a day. But Jungwon, whom you’d known for a week now, still had so many layers to him that you wanted to peel back individually and unravel to learn. His eyes are dangerously low on your face, and you’re not any better. The trolls harmonizing behind you were counting down to when the thread holding you both back would just snap. Then, it did. He smells of pine, you thought, and he was losing his mind in the strawberry in your breath that he was sure he could taste if he just moved half an inch more. The sharp pain in your heart was so intense it had you buckling at the knees, making Jungwon deftly catch you in concern. Clutching your chest, a heavier rolling sound of stone made you both look to where the Elder Troll, who was awoken by the thrumming of magic, had appeared. Explaining the severity of your condition, and how the ice in your heart would have you frozen to death made Jungwon nervous. He couldn’t even fathom losing you like that, irregardless of how short of a time you’d known each other. He was sure that for you, he was ready to brave any snow storm. “And how do we stop it?”, he asked urgently, ready to do anything to have the cold in your heart to melt and for you to be better again. “Only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart.” Grandpabby said reverently. And Jungwon could almost feel his own heart freeze in a painful squeeze as you uttered your fiance’s name in a breath of cold air.

[gay-dorito-dust]

aemond x stark reader. trip back to winterfell, aemond is possessive of the reader. one bed

A/n: this was kinda shit plus I think Aemond would be possessive even towards readers family cuz to me he comes off like the type.

When word was sent that you were requested to return to Winterfell, you knew Aemond wouldn’t be too pleased. So when you retired to your chambers for the night, only to be greeted by the prince sat upon the edge of your bed, his face blank of any and all forms of expression. You figured it would be best to be done with it before he found out on the day of your departure and make it everyone’s problem.

“Aemond, my heart.” You began as you made your way to his side, reaching for his hand to not only ground him but to also prepare yourself for what’s to come. “I received word from my father this morning,” you paused briefly to gauge his reaction, secretly relieved in seeing that his face remained neutral. That was up until you spoke about your father, and all in the of a single breath, that Aemond almost couldn’t quite catch it. “I’m coming with you.” He said in a way that implied that there would be no further debate.

“He asked for me and me alone.” You rebutted but Aemond didn’t seem to care as his single eye stared challengingly into your own, “then he shall have to make due with me accompanying you. After all, he’ll have no choice but to get use to me sooner or later.” He gripped your chin within his hand, thumb rubbing back and forth against your jaw, as he skimmed over your features that were highlighted by the fireplace almost possessively. “For I do not plan on letting my betrothed to go where I can not follow. Understood?” You sighed defeatedly, knowing that once Aemond’s mind was made up it was near enough impossible to change it.“Understood.” You replied. “Good, now get some sleep, we’ve got a long journey ahead tomorrow.” Aemond finalised, pressing a kiss against your forehead and pulling away, letting go of your chin as he began to undress himself for bed.

As the snow embedded landscapes of Winterfell came into view, you suddenly felt distraught at the fact that you wouldn’t be able to recognise your own home, after being away from it for so long. Despite being buried under the copious amount of furs you never felt more rigid in that moment; KingsLanding was a sauna in comparison to Winterfell, which felt like how you imagined hell freezing over would feel like. Glancing over at Aemond, you noted that despite proudly proclaiming to house the fire of a dragon in his veins; it seemed that even the mightiest of dragons were forced to bow to the harsh winters of the North. “What happened to all that tall talk my dear Aemond? Scared of a little cold?” You teased as a means in giving your overworked mind some ease.

“Dragons aren’t built for the cold.” Aemond replied, looking out of one of the carriage windows and over the vast expanse of glimmering white that seemed to stretch endlessly far and wide. “Wolves, however, are.” He adds with a smile directed your way that warmed you up from the inside. Aemond reached a hand over to grasp yours reassuringly, “it is also believed that wolves can smell fear,” he adds, “so don’t allow yourself to get so intimidated by the what ifs and focus on the present.” It always seemed to elude you that the brazen and bold prince before you could uphold a conversation that didn’t dissolve into ceaseless violence and bloodshed. It also seemed to elude you that he was just as well versed in the political and philosophical as he was well versed in the art of swordsmanship.

Though before you could voice your thanks, you were already in the courtyard where your family was waiting in their regal furs. Their smiles only widened when they saw you step out of the carriage. “Y/n!” They cried when you got close enough for them to draw you into a warm hug before pulling away, “by the gods you’ve grown.” Your father said as he compared his height to yours, a habit he developed when you were just a growing child, “hope your claws haven’t dulled during your stay in KingsLanding.” He adds. You scoffed, falling back into old habits, “oh they’ve tried, soon enough they discovered I wasn’t so willing to being a bed warmer.” Your father gaufed, clasping you on the shoulder as you smiled back at him as the worries you had slipped away quietly from your mind.

“That’s my child.” Your father’s eyes then shifted back to the carriage when he noticed someone else exiting, his smile filling dropping from his face when he noticed the platinum blonde hair of Aemond Targaryen. “I thought I told you to come alone, Why’d you bring Aemond one eye.” Your father asked, his eyes never leaving Aemond as he approached you both and tucked his hand comfortable to your waist, drawing you to his side. “It’s an honour to meet you Lord Stark, when my y/n told me of your letter. They’ve spoke of you in nothing but the highest of regards. I merely wished to accompany them on this joyous reunion.” Aemond said as he smiled at you before returning his gaze to your father, who despite his distain,smiled tightly as he clasped the prince a little too harshly on the shoulder. “Had I known before hand that you were also coming we would’ve rectified some accommodations a bit that would…besuited the needs fit for a prince.” Aemond merely waved his hand dismissively while he chuckled as though your father told him a funny joke.

“There will be no need for that Lord Stark. I assure you, me and your child are more then accustomed to sharing during their stay with me in KingsLanding.” Aemon states with pride as your fathers eyes merely darken at every word that left his mouth. His fists tightened at his side and he jaw would clench periodically the longer he was forced to listen to the pompous Targaryen. Had he knew that this was the man he has sent you away to one day marry, he would’ve reconsidered and kept you within Winterfell in search of a worthier man such as your childhood friend, Sebastian. You didn’t know whether you wanted to die out of embarrassment right then and there or hide out of fear of what your father would do should Aemond continue. However seeing as neither option would give you much reprieve, you instead gripped Aemond’s arm whistle flashing him a tight smile.

“Aemond my heart, why don’t we get settled in for the night. My father must be exhausted from all the preparations he put into our arrival.” You said, drawing their attention away from one another and on to you instead, relinquishing the tension between the two of them, if only by a little. Aemond seemed to ponder on this a little bit before squeezing your waist, “of course my love, besides you must be tired from the journey here yourself if I’m not mistaken.” “Oh yes, absolutely flabbergasted.” You immediately took advantage of Aemond’s suggestion, finally having an excuse to not be left standing in the courtyard longer then you wanted on your first night back home. All the testosterone was giving your a headache. “Go on ahead child, I’m sure you know where your room is after all this time?” Your father asked as he began to internally dread this week and all it will entitle.

“Of course I do,” you replied, leaving Aemond’s side to hug your father once more before bidding him farewell as you returned to Aemond to drag him by the arm all the up to your room; Shutting the door cautiously behind you before looking over at the smirking male as he sat upon the edge of your bed. “Aemond, my heart, what the fuck was that all about.” He shrugs his shoulders, “I have no idea what your talking about y/n.” You scoffed, walking towards him so that you were in front of him, “so your not going to tell me why you were having a dick measuring contest with my father. Not even mere seconds after arriving.” Aemond grip your waist, bringing you even closer to him. “I don’t plan on wasting our stay here by sharing you with your father. If he wanted to see you, he could’ve visited us, not the other way around.” You put your hands on his shoulders, pulling away from him slightly so you could look him in his eye. “Why am I less to believe that there is more then your letting on.”

Aemond smiled, knowing he couldn’t have anything slide pass you without having you catching on, “your right to think that because had I let you go alone, your father would’ve called off our annulment and have you married to Sebastian Arryn instead despite already having a well known alliance with them for awhile.” He lifted himself off the single bed to rest his forehead against yours, “but don’t you think that we’re more better suited as a couple? As proud children of our respective houses and the children of ice and fire. It as though fate had decided to conjoin the opposing forces through us.” His voice narrows down to a whisper as he held your hand against his own to look adoringly at the size difference between the two of you.

“It doesn’t matter who I have to cut through to prove my love for you, the fact still stands that I will denounce everything to be with you. If your family, friends or even old lovers wish to get between that then…” he trails off to look into your eyes before pulling away entirely, “I shouldn’t have to tell you what will happen to them, you are more then aware of the consequences to befall those who try to take you away from me.” You remained still whilst he buried himself beneath the covers of your old bed, knowing fully well to never question Aemond’s loyalty like you would’ve in the past. Back then you were terrified to have a man borderline obsessed with you to the point he would gift you an ex-lovers head in a box. Now however you’ve grown to find solace in knowing the extent Aemond was willing to go to prove his love. The power that this granted you was almost infinite if you were to include Vhagar to the picture.

It was dangerous but after some time you’ve learnt to love living dangerously quite quickly. You began to undress yourself before making yourself comfortable, shuffling closer to Aemond until your head was resting on his chest and your hand was splashed out against his chest. His warmth was enough alone to bring you to a sleepy state. “Do you promise to love me like this until we die?” You asked him, causing the hand he had on your back to stop tracing shapes into your skin, “such a sill thing to make me promise to,” Aemond says, pressing a kiss to your head where he lingered there for a little longer, “I have always loved you like this ever since we met at the tourney for your hand, despite my hatred for them I knew I couldn’t let you be with anyone other then me.”

[thingsthatbleedfic]

Not sure if I'm supposed to keep this to just asking questions, but I needed to gush and I'm not good at ao3 comment etiquette.

I stumbled across TTB on complete accident after seeing this meme and picked it up just for the heck of it, and BOY WAS I IN FOR A HECK OF A RIDE(R. haha, get it?) OR WHAT? But I felt a little out of place and like an outsider because

I entered the Phandom for the first time exactly 31 days ago and my only knowledge comes from the >5 episodes I watched before I got bored and dropped it years ago (and promptly ejected from my brain), and then fanfiction I have been VIOLENTLY AND CONSISTANTLY CONSUMING LIKE A RABID VACUUM for the last month when I got interested in it again.

I had literally never heard of Alex Rider before this fic.

I like SCP, but all my knowledge comes from a podcast I listen to but they're going numerically and they've only gotten up to SCP-123, oh and and Markiplier.

THAT BEING SAID, I didn't need to worry because this is one of the best fics I've ever read. It has LITERALLY been keeping me up at night staring at the ceiling because I couldn't freaking stop thinking about it.

It stands out in a crowd, and out of the all MANY crossovers I've read in my time, TTB is one of, like, four fics that I can confidently say feel like their own original fiction, one cohesive world that's well blended, each media and character perfectly meshed and interacting with eachother and the lore like they always belonged together.

Deadass, I sent the fic to my sibling immediately after I finished it because I needed someone to scream about it to even though they understand even less of the source material than I, and we've decided to watch the Alex Rider show together and they told me "I'm going to be sad when we watch this and Danny isn't canon".

Fantastic work, massive kudos for making one of the best feels-like-it's-not-a-crossover crossovers. I was hooked by the first few paragraphs, so suspenseful, on the edge of my seat the entire time, and I lost so much sleep and sanity to this masterpiece. Y'all rock.

This ask is SO kind and amazing we all wanted to reply!!! Hope you don't mind!

KEI: omg!!!! this ask was such a delight to get. Ive read this over and over, youre so SO kind. I'm glad youve been able to enjoy TTB even not knowing things about AR or SCP. That was always our goal--we've even had people that know nothing about any of the fandoms read it and enjoy it! Dude. My MOM reads it and was upset when she caught up. I hope you don't still feel like an outsider bc we are SO happy youre here and clearly, anyone is welcome no matter where they're coming from as far as fandom knowledge goes <3 Thank you for reading and giving our niche as fuck crossover a shot !

KKACHI: i'm so glad chance brought you to our little corner of the internet! we're very proud we managed to conceive a seamless blend of the various canons. being sad that danny isn't canon is definitely an emotion we've also felt. please make sure you get enough sleep and we hope you enjoy the next update!!!

FIN: wahhhh!!! thank you so so much. i gotta ditto what the others have said - i'm so glad you can enjoy the fic no matter what. i'm also glad that it's inspired you to also check out some of this funky media very near and dear to our hearts (because of course it is because why else would we be this crazy if it wasn't)

also, i'm always honored and proud to write the kinda fics people lose sleep over KJDGFKJGS cuz god knows i love losing sleep over fics too <3

[catnippackets]

What exactly is SWAN? :0 Please infodump, I enjoy hearing about your work!

SWAN is a story that I first made up when I was 10, it was about a girl named Keira who finds out that she's a faerie (she had earth powers) and then she and her newfound faerie friends would go on adventures. I didn't know what to call it but I needed something to name the microsoft word document so I called it SWAN because it stood for "story without a name" and then I never thought of a better name for it lol

later on in life I revamped it and started developing it into a webcomic which I posted for a few years before realizing the plot was not good and stopping it forever. that was also around the same time I was developing The Backmaker so I had a different way better written project to devote my time to lol and SWAN got shelved

BUT it's always been very near and dear to my heart and I still really wanna do something with it some day bc I still love the characters and of course faeries are my special interest and SWAN has always been like a little tribute to my childhood self so I've just sort of been keeping it on the shelf til inspiration strikes and it actually did recently so now I have an idea of where I wanna take the story!! I'm not gonna do anything serious with it until TBM is done obvi cuz it's still in the very early development stages and I don't feel like devoting the majority of my time to it rn. but it's still very important to me so I might be posting more of it here and there

(you can find all the stuff I've posted for it in the past in the SWAN tag on my blog although it is all outdated now)

[wisecrackingeric-2]

One question that’s been on my mind a lot lately whenever I’m trying to analysis Luis’ childhood is,,,,,, did Luis know or understand why his Grandfather did what he had to do???????

Cuz like,,,, obviously Luis was there when the wolves attacked him- in fact it’s even implied to have been Luis’ fault somehow, as he probably distracted his Grandfather and let his guard down like kids do and this left him open to being attacked by the wolves- but did Luis understand why Bitores had to burn down his home with his Grandfather inside?????? Surely he didn’t read the notes his Grandfather made, right????? And he was, what, 10-12 years old at most??????? He was just a little kid!!!!!!!! I can’t even IMAGINE what must’ve been running through his mind as he watched his childhood home and everything he loved inside of it burn down!!!!!!

BUT EVEN BEFORE THAT TOO- can you guys imagine how Luis must’ve felt watching the ONE PERSON he has in his life slowly deteriorate from the wolf bite??????? Can you imagine how confused he must’ve been?????? Did ANY other villagers help him??? Did Méndez ever come over and offer his support?????? How quickly did his Grandfather deteriorate?? Days???? Weeks??????

Not to mention the fact that Luis probably internalised the situation as being HIS FAULT. Because in his child mind, who else is there to blame?? How else is he supposed to rationalise the situation in a way a kid can understand???? He was obviously a bit of a child prodigy but kids are still kids who will latch onto anything that can logistically explain a situation

So how did he feel watching MÉNDEZ burn down his childhood home with his Grandfather inside???? The ONE OTHER PERSON who ever showed him care and affection- who listened to him ramble about his tales of chivalry- was also the same person responsible for burning down everything he loved. Did he understand WHY he had to do that?????? Did Méndez ever tell him??????? Did his GRANDFATHER ever warn him??????????? Did he KNOW what was about to happen, or was he left thinking this was all spontaneous and unexplainable????? Luis and his Grandfather were kind of implied to have been outcasts of the village- so I can only imagine this must’ve been an even bigger stab to the back (hah)

((I also think it’s. So. S O UNBELIEVEBLY POIGNANT that Luis was described to have just. Stood there. Staring at his home burning down. Completely unmoving. Like he didn’t even CRY. NOT ENOUGH PEOPLE TALK ABOUT THAT DETAIL MAN THATS SO DEVASTATING???????? HE WAITED THERE UNTIL M O R N I N G TO LEAVE????????????????? I WANNA MAKE A WHOLE POST ON THAT BY ITSELF THATS SO S A D ))

But anyways back on track- did Luis ever hold any RESENTMENT towards his Grandfather after he’d left Valdelobos and made a life for himself??? Cuz that’s kind of what I always thought for a while, just off of gut instincts alone- did he feel resentment that his Grandfather never showed him the outside world????? That he burned himself to the ground without saying anything???????? Did he ever internalise that grief and anger and self-resentment????????

Or was it the opposite????? Did he hold his Grandfather so near and dear to his heart that he dedicated EVERYTHING he ever did to him????? All the things he dreamed of doing as a child- all the things his Grandfather encouraged- he finally got to achieve it all. He finally got to become a prestigious scientist and work on a cure for the very things that took his Grandfathers life- only for that to come crumbling down around him too. Just like how his home burnt.

And when he tries to return home, tries to find solace and comfort where he once grew up- instead he finds a completely unrecognisable, cult-driven village that forces him to make the same things that killed his Grandfather. That’s DEVASTATING MAN.

Did he ever get to read his Grandfathers journal entries???????? If he did, how did he react, if he reacted at all?????????? Would he have been angry???????? In denial??????????? Or would he have just stood there silently just like he did when his home burnt down for the first time????????

There’s also just. The devastating fact that if I Leon hadn’t found him, Luis would have died in the exact same place his Grandfather did all those years ago. That cycle of pain would never have ended and he’d be buried nameless alongside his mistakes.

And on kind of a related note, I find it so interesting that Luis chose Leon, Ashley and Ada to be the stars in his version of Don Quixote- when, assumedly, the only other person he’d ever truly expressed his love for that book towards was his Grandfather and Mendez. I think that’s just. SO TELLING MAN.

AND and on a similar note, again, Mendez was implied to be an almost secondary father figure to Luis- so hell!!!! Imagine how he must’ve felt seeing him become so beyond recognition!!!!!!!! Again, would he have understood why????????? How would he have reacted???????????

Tl;dr:

I wanna know if baby Luis understood why his Grandfather did what he had to do. I wanna know if he knew the reasons behind why his home burnt down, or if he thought it was simply just a cruel twist of fate.

[lauvwar-r]

raise y_our glass.

sypnosis. despite kaeya's whole... everything, blue is not the first colour that comes to mind when you think of him. in fact, it's quite the opposite.

. . .word count. 608

. . .warnings ⸝⸝ tags. gn!reader, fluff, use of one nickname: "dear", angst, major character death, hurt/no comfort, swearing, descriptive grief, lack of capital letters and correct grammar perhaps ahaha :(

blue is not the colour you think of when you think of kaeya.

you'd think you would (since he's a literal replica of berry & mint burst) but you don't. though, if you were to, you'd think of starsilver moons — the mark of your first kiss.

it's near the end of one of your many dates with the so-called charming and mysterious cavalry captain, you're both at windrise with a perfect view of cerulean, huddled under vanessa's tree only an angel's kiss apart.

you're dating but you're not dating, you know?

he's sent you countless letters wrapped in soft ribbon and calla lilies from starfell lake (you can tell because they smell fresher, lovelier and not like vomit — unlike calla lilies from springvale. ref: draff) that leave you giddy with clenched fists, flushed cheeks and a journal of newly pressed flora. AND you've treated him to enough after-rounds lunches at good hunter to make them routine!

…but you're not dating

… yet

fucking archons, you're absolutely infatuated with him.

regardless, after months of childish pining, he reaches for your hand, caressing it warmly (like it's natural to him???) creating goosebumps that tickle your skin. curse him for being so sly.

"i can hear your heart racing, you know?" he whispers, tracing hearts into your skin. it's one of his favourite hobbies nowadays, he says. you recall him shortening his nails.

"ha!" you bluff, "you're hearing things, captain. it's probably the wind"

"maybe. but they do say i have quite the hearing skills, dear." he replies, a smirk adorning his face. "and if my hearing serves me right - and i'd say it does - i'd deduce that you're in love with me."

lighthearted jesting is typical between you two but you can't stop the way your chest tightens, nerves heighten like a criminal caught red handed with bright red evidence smeared across your face.

"no- captain…" you lie unconvincingly, "i'm most certainly not-"

"well that's a shame then. because i'm most certainly in love with you"

chaos rumbles in your chest, threatening to spill, "…you're joking. kaeya alberich don't you dare joke with me, it's not funny-"

"i'm not." there's sincerity in the stars of his eyes that bleeds with the love in his chest. "i love you, name."

your heart rate increases. his hand drifts from your knuckles… to your arm… and finally-

"more than your favourite wine?"

you feel a mix of cool leather and rough skin on your cheek.

"more than my favourite wine."

and you don't doubt him. not when his lips prevent you from doing so and not when a blue moon means so much more to you now.

but blue is not the colour you think of when you think of kaeya.

you want to so, so bad. because sapphire is the colour of the gem on your finger and the sky on his days off but when you think of kaeya you think of stinging bloodshot eyes and salty tears.

his uniform is no longer blue: it's marred and mangled, tainted with disgusting maroon — a polar opposite to the mocking ivory snow that surrounds him. and you feel vile. angry. fucking pathetic, like a blade that's been sheathed and twisted in your gut to make its stay permanent while you...just let it happen.

your nose is filled with iron, instead of wood and dragonspine has never felt any colder.

so you can't think of blue when you think of kaeya…not when a bloody crimson was the colour of the setting sun that day.

and not when it was the colour of his favourite wine — the same wine you raise a glass of behind mondstadt's cathedral.

masterlist! ⸝⸝ genshin masterlist!

notes. . . get it? cuz his favourite wine is death after noon ahahaha... n e wayz, first written post yipeee!!! blame huh yunjin, keshi and thai life insurance ads for this post :)

[butterflyseraph]

Blue Lock Matchup Exchange: @tigreblvnc

Thank you for doing this with me, especially cuz this is my first time doing matchups!

Let's see, if I were to pair you with anyone, I'd put my money on...

This silly lil bee!

(Also, wow, this was a really dope gif I found lmao)

On the surface, you two would be GREAT partners-in-crime. I'd lowkey expect some of the other Blue Lock boys having to fish you two out of trouble quite often. It's honestly quite endearing, if stressful. 😅

On a deeper level though, I think you'd really engage well with Bachira's "monster". More specifically, you'd probably be more open to the concept compared to other people. I feel like Bachira's "monster" (and to some extent, his overall personality) makes him feel isolated in a way one wouldn't expect from someone so bubbly.

In addition to the more lighthearted aspects you two share, I feel like your desire to dig deeper and question things would really excite Bachira. Our fun-loving bee needs someone who can keep up with his energy, and I feel like you'd pull that off really well.

Traveling? Sign him up! Pretty sure you can take him anywhere and he'd be happy to be with you every step of the way!

Just, uh, make sure to keep track of him, okay? I have an inkling that he's the kind of person who can and will wander off on his own if left unsupervised.

On that note, I feel like you'd be good at keeping him grounded overall. Um, not sure about the other way around (this is our bee we're talking about), but I feel like that won't be too much of a concern.

One thing I feel that all the Blue Lock boys suffer from in general is some sense of loneliness. They might seem content, but as someone who also grew up training for something, that kind of stress gets to you in some way, whether you realize it or not.

He might mask his more "negative" emotions. So don't forget to check in on him, okay? A happy bee is not a bee who always looks a happy, but rather a bee who feels content. I'm pretty confident in your ability to be there for him tho

Okie dokie!!! I hope I did a decent enough job lmao. Bachira is a character I hold near and dear to my heart, so the fact my brain literally went "GIVE THIS GUY OUR BEE" says something, haha! Again, thank you for letting me do this matchup exchange, and honestly? This was really fun. I might open a side blog and get back to writing drabbles, headcanons, and matchups again. So thank you again!

[someuncreativity]

Fuck it here’s part two of

My Ranking of How Quickly I’d Let These Fictional Men Rearrange My Organs

Still BotW/TotK edition because look at these men

You get the point, it’s gonna be hella NSFW because read the title

Oh but also this time I’m formatting the prompts like Stanzi Potenza’s “Animated Men I Would Sell My Body To At a Discount Price, The Discount Being Free Because I Would Never Make These Fine Gentlemen Pay For a Whore Like Me” series on YouTube

Cuz why not

But also this is just me thirsting after the most atrocious and/or attractive men in the Zelda universe

6. Master Kogha

This man may not be a fine dining experience, but he’s definitely worth your time for a banana or two.

A solid six-out-of-ten, the only thing that rivals your hatred for his superhero alter ego is his dad bod that puts furry artists on Twitter to shame.

They say that everything’s better with friends, and this man has a couple that would sweeten the deal, and as it happens, red spandex is absolutely up my alley.

A dork playing glorified dress-up doesn’t sound fun until his devotion to a demon king threatens an entire nation, and I am 100% here for it.

5. Revali

Fun fact, my favorite bird to eat is chicken, partially because I’m basic, but also because I could see myself sinking my canines into that cock.

His aim is im-peck-able, pun intended and unashamed, and he’s certain to get a bullseye into my heart.

I know he’s an egomaniac, but in the deep, dark, crevices of my mind, I know he’s mentally ruined. It’s the lifelong trauma and the “I can fix him” for me.

I love Rito clothing, especially since this man’s version of is the sluttiest thing on earth. After looking at him, I’m certain I’m not getting cold anytime soon.

He could treat me like the scum of the earth and I’d still be on all fours polishing his arrow free of charge. He’s like if a Disney prince realized he was a Disney prince.

4. Daruk

The only Goron I’d let pound me like a quarry, this man has warmed my heart like the fiery maw of his hometown’s tourist trap.

I could write a fifty-page essay about how this man’s kindness makes My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic look like more of a joke than it already is.

I know what I’ve said about Gorons literally crushing me to death, but as long as his words of encouragement are the last thing I hear as he erupts inside of me like Death Mountain, that’s all that really matters.

That loincloth isn’t doing much in the way of covering up his Boulder Breaker, and for that, I thank the weak fabric for its service to our nation. On the plus side, it’s white, so if he ever walks in the rain, that cloth’s purpose in life will have been fulfilled.

The fact that he has a grandson makes him not just a DILF but a GILF. In my opinion, fathers age like wine, so this is a win-win for me.

Combined with his white beard which resembles a mane more than facial hair, he’s like Santa if Santa was somehow both more and less cuddly at the same time.

And I know he’s afraid of dogs, but personally, that’s fine. I’m more of a cat person anyway.

3. Teba

Take everything I said about Revali and multiply it by the “white hair equals sexy” principle, and you have the new Rito chief.

I didn’t think it was possible to find anyone edgier than the spirit inside of the Master Sword, but here we are.

It is taking every ounce of my soul not to say “I can fix him” because clearly, I can’t and he doesn’t want me to.

. I would let him cry his heart out after nearly losing everything near and dear to him. There’s no shame, sweetie.

His wings are long, and I know of a few things that are longer. Given that he has procreated, it’s clear that the hot springs aren’t the only things that’ll be hot and steamy after a night with him.

Speaking of which, he’s a loving parent and a loving husband, which makes him a DILF, and let me tell you, the second that word becomes an adjective, the snow isn’t the only white thing covering the Hebra mountains.

If he could fly me into the skies, I would watch the sunset with him in silence as we realized the real magic was inside us all along or something like that. Whatever makes him happy, and yes, if he asks for it, that includes me swallowing a few of his bird eggs.

2. Tauro

Finally, a himbo the people can rely on.

We love seeing strong, partially-head-empty men being strong, partially-head-empty men.

Only I’m pretty sure this himbo is actually smart.

Idk I haven’t played enough or focused enough in Kakariko to find out lol

This man is investigating the ring ruins but he forgot about the ring he he to put on my finger.

He is giving “I’m going to save the world” and we love that. If you don’t, I see why- I did just say I liked villains- but I’m a double-sided coin.

Speaking of coins, flip one: head or tails? Which part of me is going to need to be replaced by Rauru? I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t care.

I personally have some depths for him to explore, and let me tell you, it’s gonna be the cave feeling his gloom infiltrate every orifice instead, and the cave will thank him.

His hair is giving the Hot Topic version of Melanie Martinez, and let me tell you, if I wasn’t a Crybaby, this man would have turned me.

I just love that every single Hylian around is taller than Link. I also love, however, that this man also towers over them too. Honestly, that makes things even better for me personally.

As long as Miss Papaya over there doesn’t realize that Link isn’t half the hero her grandma made him out to be, we won’t have problems. No worries here, chief, just doing some Zonai excavating.

1. King Dorephan

It’s known that this man singlehandedly defeated a Guardian, but judging by his measurements, all of which make the Empire State Building look like a stack of building blocks, it’s not hard to see how.

The leader of the Zora, this man is guaranteed to make any traveler feel right at home- hopefully, between the two logs he calls legs and the other two which he uses for other less savory deeds.

Not that I would mind, he could stretch my throat out to a time when the community will stop complaining about how the company keeps retconning the story with one and turn me into a make seahorse during conception with the other and I’d still have room. I have no shame.

If his son is a ten, he would have still been a ten before inflation.

You have to love a rich man with anatomically-correct shark organs. Jaws was really just my wake-up call after all, but not really because I like my men to talk dirty.

All I ask for in life is for this DILF to stretch me like taffy and squash me like a grape. Once that is achieved, I don’t care what Ganon does to Hyrule- I found my own sacred realm, thank you very much.