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actually-safer-to-kiss · 10 months

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Well, Actually

Summary: Spencer gets frustrated as Reader proves him wrong about an unsub's profile.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff-ish

Content warnings: discussions of gender, sexy implications, Ernest Hemingway

Word count: 1.5k

It’s when I flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED that I can finally breathe. Saturday Sale Days at the bookstore are usually easygoing, but most people took refuge at the windows thanks to the crime scene across the street. Another sex worker was murdered, according to the agents who were here earlier. Well, one of them looked like an agent; coated from head to toe in black and seriousness. The other, however, might as well have been a pretentious preppy middle schooler who thinks a doctorate — three doctorates (he made sure to correct me) — gives him the excuse to lack social graces.

I’m not used to running into FBI agents regularly. However, I’m fairly confident that questioning civilians is more about further insight and not running to the end with confirmation bias. Dr. Reid, on the other hand, had his confirmation set that he and his team were looking for a woman riddled with internalized misogyny who was killing sex workers and leaving quotes from Ernest Hemingway pieces.

So, is it wrong that I may or may not have said they might actually be looking for a male with possible gender nonconformity issues? According to the quotes written in lipstick and discussions revolving around Hemingway’s relationship with gender, it was the first thing to pop into my head.

And it was Dr. Reid’s first instinct to take it personally, like any other gifted child who’s never learned what it’s like to be wrong (possibly). His reaction mainly consisted of raising his voice and saying my assumption “was not relevant to our case” and taking a collection of Hemingway’s short stories without paying for it. I haven’t found a suitable way to explain that to my boss yet.

Regardless of his reaction, I had no reason to expect to see him again. I got a card from Agent Prentiss after she questioned me behind the counter and haven’t heard a word since. It didn’t matter then because we were closed, and I had the day off tomorrow —

Knock, knock, knock. A simple three-raps on the glass. The night makes it difficult to see who it is, but I’m more than familiar with the panic button under the register. So before I turn the lights out, I get closer to the door to find out who on the other side can’t read.

And without thinking, I open the door, but don't let him in. “Agent Reid.” I can’t help but push him just a bit.

“Dr. Reid.”

“Right.” I faked a laugh (years of practice). “Well as you can see we’re closed for the night so —”

His hand is out, holding the book. The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. The paper cover is already pulled up at the corners and the spine is cracked. Nothing display worthy, that’s for sure. “I took this.”

“And you had it for six hours. How did you decimate it so quickly?”

“I was using it as a source while we were trying to solve the case.” His hand was shaking, from nervousness or lack of strength to hold a paperback in one hand for longer than a minute, either could be possible. “I figured a way to make amends was to come back and purchase it.”

I looked down at the book and looked back up at him. Sincerity and boyish charm force me to hold the door open for him and let him in. When he comes in, his under eyes are darker, perhaps because he's a night owl, or because of his job. His hair is still fluffy like this morning but droopy.

He was prepared to call it a night before coming here. But thievery is apparently too heavy for this agent’s shoulders.

I walk to the register, booting up the fancy tablet. “So did you? Solve the case, I mean?”

“We did.”

I scan the barcode, luckily he didn’t ruin that. “And? Did she explain the Hemingway quotes at least?”

Silence, only for a moment. I see his hands digging into his pockets. He pulls out a debit card and hands it over. “He, actually.”

“What?”

“He didn’t explain the Hemingway quotes but said he targeted sex workers because they were ‘freer than he ever would be.’”

Silence swallowed the room immediately upon saying that but of a different kind. The kind that was ripe for me to brag and possibly even do a little dance. But I’m patient, and I don’t like interrupting people. I tap the screen slowly so the good doctor can gather the words. I even took another glance and his eyes were already locked on me. It would’ve made me jump if he didn’t follow it with “You were right.”

There it is. “Hmm,” I say as I keep the arrogance down to a minimum as I contemplate my next words. I take his receipt and scribble before bagging the book. “So do I get a one-way ticket into the bureau, or do I take your place or —”

“Thank you for your help." He says slowly as if he were being ordered to apologize. Like he wrote these words in a document before coming here. “Your observation sent us in the right direction.” His hand is out, waiting.

I also have a talent for dragging things out. When I shut the techy stuff down again, I go back around and hand them to him, so I can get closer. Read his face. When he reaches out and just touches the paper, I jerk the bag back. “That’s not what you want to say.” I let the bag dangle off two of my fingers, shamelessly drinking in the moment. “Come on, it’s gotta be killing you.”

He rolls his eyes. Briefly, but enough for me to notice. “What could be killing me?”

“That you, an FBI agent, with two PhDs —”

“Three PhDs.”

This is so fun. “Three PhDs was outsmarted by a girl who works in a bookstore. Merely a bachelor's on my resume.”

“That is not the case.” He says.

“It seems relevant to the case now.” That intended to burn, and it did. Scorched actually. I could feel it from here, so I walked to the back to find the lights, expecting him to follow me.

He did. The creaking of the old wood floors echoed as we walked, there was no rhythm or synced steps, just two different walking patterns, one at ease and the other eager. “Just tell me how you figured it out.” He says. “Hemingway has been praised for his writing style and the way he wrote certain female characters but his macho personality indicated he enjoyed nothing feminine.”

A chuckle might have been appropriate, but I replied with a stark laugh. A bold “Ha!” As I opened the lightroom door. “Because macho men are known for being the happiest people on Earth, according to history.” With a click, the lights flickered steadily before turning off. I had my phone flashlight ready, though. “Honestly, Dr. Reid, it might be worthwhile to take a break from reading and watch a documentary on the man. It adds up quickly, even someone like you would get it.” I let the flashlight guide me back to the front, avoiding collateral damage from bookshelf corners.

Until Dr. Reid stepped in front of me, causing my head to collide with his chest. Somehow, I didn’t drop my phone and instinctively reached for my nose. “Someone like me?”

“Ow, first of all. But yes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I rub my nose in the dark. “That even a predictable bookish boy like you can eventually come to grips with the fact that he doesn’t know everything.”

“And you do?” He asked.

“I never said that,” I admitted.

He looked at me skeptically. Even in the dark, I could feel my arrogance might have gotten the best of me here. I tried looking away, to another dark space.

He, however, did not. “What else did you say? Predictable?”

“You mean you don’t remember?”

He sighs, and air from his nose brushes above my lip.

Then so does his hand in my hair.

His lips, though, were quite the opposite. As if all his frustrations couldn’t take it anymore and needed to be let out with a teeth-smashing, saliva-coated spectacle (that no one could see. Not even us.) All I felt was wandering hands and the wall hitting the back of my head before he pulled away. His hands are still on my waist, and he breathes sharply in and out. “Was that predictable?” I heard him swallow.

I contemplated my response for a short while, wondering which one, a yes or a no, would get him to do it again. So instead, I just grabbed where I assumed his head would be and jerked him down to meet my lips again. It worked. His hands wrapped tight as if he glued himself to my skin. “Will you get reprimanded by your team for being somewhere you aren’t?” I ask between breaths and lip separation.

“Maybe. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

“I won’t admit anything,” I said. Whether it was to see Dr. Reid’s night turn out worse, or to keep a secret from his boss about a makeout session in a bookstore, I’m not sure. But his body was thin, layered with clothes. Warm.

“What will you admit to?” He whispers, moving our bodies, begging for more kisses. Or just more.

“Dinner?”

“For?”

“Education purposes, Dr. Reid.” My hands can’t help but explore. “Seems like we’ve got a lot to learn.”

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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months

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hello! if you accept requests for one peaceLive action (I hope)

could you write reader x sanji and I have a strange idea

what if with reader flirting.... another cook? and Sanji feels not just jealousy, but double jealousy... it's very strange, I know, but still I think it's quite interesting.

thank you in advance🙏💕

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

The smell of spices, ripe fruit and freshly made food hits your nostrils. It's markets like this that truly show the genius loci of the place. Mobs of people roll through the narrow spaces between stalls that are bending under the weight of displayed products.

You glance at Sanji, who's walking next to you. Judging by the bliss on his face, you'd think you're in heaven and not some unmarked island in the middle of nowhere.

Then a specific aroma reaches you - something you haven't smelled in a long time but could never forget. It's tangy, creamy and herbal...

"Can you smell it?" you turn to Sanji, suddenly stopping in your tracks. Excitement bubbles inside your chest and cherished memories of beautiful days with wonderful people flash before your eyes.

"You'll have to be a little more precise, love," he answers with undeniable fondness in his voice. His thumb is softly rubbing the skin of your hand.

"Lemon tarragon sauce," you say as if it's the most obvious thing. Looking around, you catch a glimpse of a pot filled with yellow-ish, creamy dip. "Right there!"

Tugging at his arm, you pull him in the direction of the stall and the source of the delightful smell. The market stand is managed by a man around your age. He has a head full of black, dense curls that perfectly suit his tanned skin. There's a clean dish towel tied around his neck as if it's an ascot. Skilled, muscular hands move between pans, pots and counters as he's restlessly grilling meat, fish and prawns to put them in cones made from newspaper and layer the tarragon sauce on top.

The street cook looks up from the dishes when he notices customers approaching. As his dark eyes set on you, the man suddenly perks up and a playful smile curves his raspberry-coloured lips.

"Mademoiselle," he says with a certain intensity to his voice. It almost sounds like he's asking you something.

Sanji immediately cringes at the man's tone. This suave, decadent drawl is something he's also used the very first time he saw you. And considering the fact that you're tightly holding his hand, it had worked perfectly. Now just to make sure that this terragon-smelling, ascot-wearing sleazy guy isn't as successful.

"How can I thank you for brightening up my day?"

"I'd love a serving of prawns with tarragon sauce," you say thrilled. It seems that you're either missing the flirtatious aura surrounding the man or you're willfully ignoring them.

Sanji feels his chest tighten and a bitter taste fills his mouth. Why would you be so excited about someone else's cooking? Worse - what if you will prefer that guy's food over his?

The street cook gets to grilling freshly caught prawns. His fingers skilfully dance in the air as he seasons the seafood and mixes it in the pan. Garlic and lemon pepper fragrances overthrow your senses.

The ascot-wearing man gives you a curious look. "What are you looking for at the end of the world, flower?" he asks.

But before you can answer, Sanji cuts in. "We're on a shore leave," he answers coldly. "Won't stay for long."

"That's a shame," the local chef continues unaffected by Sanji's impertinence. His eyes are fixed on you, eating you up like you're the local delicacy and not the seafood in the pan. "At night the island looks even better. Not that it could compare," he says with a wink.

In a swift move, the man moves the prawns from the pan onto a page from a newspaper. He quickly rolls the paper into a cone. Clearly, he's been doing this for a very long time.

"You're from around here, right?" you carry on the conversation.

"Born and raised, ma cherie," he answers with pride. That shouldn't come as a surprise - ever since the Marines built a base on the surrounding archipelago, the islands have been filled with immigrants who couldn't care less about local traditions and customs.

Sanji feels his irritation only growing, hearing how the pet name rolls off the man's tongue naturally, as though he's calling you by your given name. It feels wrong down to the marrow of his bones.

"So, as a local, can you recommend something to pass the time?"

The bitterness Sanji involuntarily tastes on his tongue is mixed with sweetness that only you can bring him. Of course you don't notice the flirtatious tone - you just want the tarragon sauce and something fun to do before tomorrow comes and the Straw Hats are off for another voyage.

Then, another nice thought stirs inside his head. Maybe you're too deep in love with Sanji to even notice another man's interest? The idea makes him giddy like he's a schoolgirl with a crush. He almost misses the next part of the conversation, too busy with his adorable, a little cringy, daydream:

"While the weather is still good and the nights are warm, skinny dipping is quite popular," the local cook answers while pouring tarragon sauce over the grilled prawns. "Much better with good company," he purrs out. "Prawns with tarragon sauce, on the house." The man hands you your order but with only one cocktail stick as though the blond chef next to you doesn't count as a customer.

Excited, you take the paper cone from the street vendor. But before you can try the food, Sanji takes the stick and takes the first bite.

A frown enters his face as he chews the prawn. Then he sighs in disappointment.

"Do you seriously call this cooking?" he asks the ascot-wearing man. His voice is laced with anger and disbelief. "A fishman would make a better sauce. It's missing white wine and anise. And there's too much garlic."

You hiss his name out but Sanji appears unaffected. Forcing a polite smile, you turn to the street vendor, who's glancing between you and your boyfriend with a look of superiority. "Thank you for the food and sorry for Grumpy over here."

Only when you're a few paces away from the vendor and definitely out of earshot, do you confront Sanji about his mordant humor.

"No need to get snappy."

He forces his lips into a thin line. "His food is shit and he keeps making piss poor attempts at flirting when you're clearly," he lifts your intertwined fingers, "not a mademoiselle." Although Sanji quotes the word in mockery, it sounds delicious coming from him. If you weren't already sharing his bed, right now you'd be seriously considering it. Planning it even.

"So that's what this is about?" you ask as laughter forces its way out of your chest. Considering how whipped you are for Sanji, it seems ridiculous that you could think romantically about other men. "You're jealous about a smooth-talking cook. Sounds like someone I know."

"Does it?" he picks up on your banter. That familiar, playful smile returns to his face. His eyes momentarily light up, flashing you a glint of various emotions: desire, amusement, adoration. "How many smooth-talking cooks have you seduced?"

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head dramatically. "Don't know. Never bothered to count. I'm just looking for someone to make me lemon tarragon sauce any time I want."

Sanji's hand again rubs the skin of your palm. His other hand reaches for your face, fingers brushing against your jaw. "For you, little dove, I'd make tarragon sauce every day."

"With white wine and anise?" you ask, leaning in slightly. His scent of cigarette smoke and frying oil fills your lungs. Suddenly, the market around you is nonexistent and there's only Sanji.

"The best lemon tarragon sauce you've ever had," he murmurs against your face. His nose brushes against your cheeks.

"I already have the best."

His lips taste like lemons, butter and herbs when he kisses you. Honestly, this is the best version of the sauce you've ever had.

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grxndprix · 7 months

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𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 — 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘫𝘰 & 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘵𝘸 — 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯 (𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩), 𝘴/𝘢, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘥𝘬, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭

A fresh new start always felt like bull.

It was like fate itself holding her life on puppet strings. Moving her like a numb pawn in a chess game. Everything felt calculated for everything except her. She just had to wait for things to go her way every once in a while, before it fell apart again.

Right now, it was going fairly mundanely. Nothing interesting or even mildly negative had happened in a while, though nothing had either. She had already been living alone for quite some time. Moved out of her parents’ house as soon as possible and invested in a house of her own for the sole reason of hating apartments. Too rickety, and she would feel safer in a smaller, single house than with broken windows or whatever else.

[name] ran a ringed hand through her hair, huffing out a breath as she hauled her cross-body bag over her shoulder. The job down at the local cafe awaited straight ahead, and despite her fears, she wasn’t a child anymore, she could do this.

Morning pink and white skies, highlighted with gold clouds had her taking in the fresh air. In fact, it wasn’t until she picked her walking pace up again, stepping toward the cafe doors, that the slightest bit of dread began to pool in her stomach.

A sigh, and [name] reached for the handle as she made her way inside. Her eyes wandered, trailing along the gold embellishments among the otherwise green, brown, and orange-ish tints around her. She lumbered on her way to the back of the building, swiftly tugging her uniform on and starting to take orders from her position as cashier.

Customers piling in couldn’t deny the coziness, some of them staying for quite some time. [name] herself enjoyed every second spent on the job and could never imagine quitting. Or— At least… Those were her premonitions for now. It was a steady source of income while living alone, the atmosphere was nice, the people were nice, it wasn’t—

The doors opened just as the clock chimed at 3 o’clock.

Not even a divine mercy could save such a tragedy. In waltzed two figures, tall in stature and a bit intimidating with their builds. [name] gulped for a second, feeling the cozy air around her start to dissipate. Despite recognizing them as regulars, the girl was unsettled. They always came in and just… observed her every move. She averted her gaze for the sake of her own well-being, lips pursing and unpursing. The feeling of her lip gloss brought back some sense, and she snapped out of her stupor.

In the short time she’d looked at them, she noticed they looked pretty identical to the last time. Cold white hair, blue eyes that held the world in their irises, black uniform — He was the one whose gaze raked along her entire figure, always whispering obscene things to his friend. Of course, said friend had raven hair, long locks that swayed with each step. They were tied up into a bun, and his matching eyes always remained locked on her face, barely wavering. His irises held nothing but sorrow, the weight of the universe—

‘Don’t judge people by their looks,’ She reminded herself. It’s rude to do so, even in this case… Her eyes flicked back to the pair, and she physically had to hold herself back from flinching. Both of their gazes were locked right onto her, one sporting a small smirk, and the other smiling softly.

The man smirking ran a hand through his snowy white hair, whistling lowly and leaning over to whisper something in his presumed friend’s ear. The smiling man whispered something as well, raven locks swaying in the small breeze. She wouldn’t have cared about any of this had their stares not been piercing into her. Something felt off, something really felt off— What was once just invasive had turned predatory. At least before, it didn’t feel like this.

The first time the pair had come into the cafe, they took a seat and seemed to talk casually for a bit. They weren’t ordering anything, but just to be sure, [name] had made her way over and asked them if they wanted to try anything off the menu. She tried and failed to conceal her wince when their eyes snapped up to meet hers.

That was the first time she’d experienced true intimidation. Satan regarded the two of them with a shiver, and she felt her hand tremble at her side. As if they had gotten what they wanted, the pair smiled, but the notion didn’t reach their eyes.

Neither one of them spoke a word for a moment, until—

“Just coffee, thanks.” The ravenette had a gentle voice, countering his intimidating stature. She nodded, a strained ‘Of course!’ falling from her lips before she walked back to her place at the counter. Still, she felt their burning stares pierce through her back.

Fate held a scissor to the string.

She tried to mind her own business. She really did. Returning to brewing some coffee for the person in line, sliding it across the table, and giving them a smile. Her lips could barely form the words, “Have a good day,” before she cut herself off, eyes widening. The coffee she had handed them knocked out of their grasp, laying spilled on the floor.

[name] gasped quietly, eyes darting back up to meet black and blue hues. She froze a second, suddenly realizing that while she’d been on autopilot, spacing out— The rest of the cafe had gone empty. Beginning to yell at the pair, the customer the coffee had been for looked beyond pissed. They opened their mouth to continue screaming at the white-haired man, but—

A swift flick of his fingers, and the customer went flying across the room, seemingly gaining momentum as they crashed against the wall and hit their head hard enough to knock out. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room, allowing [name] to freeze completely. Her face paled in horror at the sight, a horrifying entity forming right behind the customer. They didn’t get the chance to fight, head effectively bitten clean off their body.

Blood poured forth from the stump like that of the Lord, body falling limp. The crimson color had splattered all over the walls and floor, a horrifying canvas of the spiral to hell, to purgatory—

Muted noiret hair cascaded over his shoulder as the man knelt on one knee in front of the body. He seemed to observe the way a few ants had already begun crawling out of the small hole in the wall, breaths quiet. Then, he cracked a smile. “‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?’… May your god have mercy on your soul, low-life.”

With that, the entity swallowed the rest of the customer up whole.

It was quiet for a second. A clock ticked in the background, but she swore it almost felt like the seconds had slowed down. [name]’s mind was running wild with the visual and implied information dumped onto her. ‘What was that entity? Why did they kill the customer? What were they gonna do to her? Was this it? Were they going to kill her too?’

Despite the icy look he sent the corpse, the white-haired man huffed out a snicker. “C’mon, Suguru, don’t be like that.” He dragged the last word out, cracking his knuckles in front of him. His sapphire eyes took their time in studying every reaction [name] had to offer. From her shivers to her darting eyes — He consumed it all.

The ravenette chuckled too, lightheartedly smacking the other on the back. “How else should I be, Satoru?”

That seemed to snap her out of her state. The girl tried to scream, all blood leaving her face, but all she could form was a weak whimper. Her hands clutched at her uniform in an effort to ground herself, trying to sprint for the back. There were about 15 steps between herself and the door. She only made 3.

A hand clasped around her wrist, tugging her backward and into a chest. “Trying to leave so soon? Oh c’mon now, princess,” Satoru’s hand trailed down to her waist, lips brushing against her earlobe and greedily drinking up the shivers he got in return. “We haven’t even started yet.”

Suguru made his way to her front, one hand in his pocket while the other grabbed her cheeks to make sure she looked right into those pools of tar. He smiled softly, a stark contrast to Satoru’s smug grin as his lips nipped at her neck. Suguru took in every little detail of her face, including the blood from the customer’s splatter. The pores, the imperfections, the perfections— He couldn’t get enough.

“You’re a beautiful thing, y’know that?” He muttered, as if it was a secret only between the two of them. Something that no one else should ever know about. She tried to form a remark, anything to tell them off— But all it sounded like to them was a puppy’s whines.

His lips came crashing onto hers with a passion that rivaled Hades as he pursued Persephone. [name] tried desperately to push them off, using every bit of the strength she had— Yet as they backed her into the backroom, she knew it was all in vain. The realization didn’t stop her though, lips finally pushing past their rest and yelling for them to stop, almost sure it might draw the attention of someone outside. Before they closed the door, she saw that it had begun to pour rain, loud enough to completely mask any and all of her noises.

Satoru was the one that pushed her down onto the counter, Suguru immediately beginning to pull her oversized shirt off. The white haired man ran a hand through his strands at the sight, a hissed “Fuck,…” pulling through his throat. The ravenette saw how [name] tried to cover herself again, face pink, and immediately pinned her wrists above her head.

“Shh… It’s— It’s okay, we’ll take care of you, right, ‘Toru?” His voice was tight, like he was refraining from saying something, doing something— She tried to tug her wrists away from his hold, yelling for help, telling them to stop, just about anything that could just end the moment here and now.

A chuckle, and Satoru leaned over her body, face mere centimeters from hers. His lips practically brushed hers as those damned jewel-like orbs devoured her own.

“Yeah, we’ll treat ya real good, princess.”

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳-𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘶𝘵 ☆

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moodysnowflake · 1 year

Text

The fact that this scene is so fluid and seems so flowy should be testament enough of the awesome job Studio Orange is doing.

Animating stuff which is supposed to be floating in water is MAYHEM.

Also, to everybody keep telling that Tristamp Vash is a twink... I'm so glad we got him into this tank, so the liquid makes the clothes STICK to his skin.

Naï might be a huge beefcake, but Vash is still a freaking brick wall.

We know Vash is likely self conscious not only of his scars, but also of his height and his size. Very likely. Black is not just for radiation absorption, injury coverage, and hiding (when he doesn't have his brightass coat).

Black slims.

And a loose-ish fit doesn't only allow for comfortable movement, but also helps him to appear less menacing (he should be around 180-188 cm [5'11-6'2], depending on the source).

I mean, have you seen his shoulders? This man has the wingspan of a flippin' Andean condor.

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badgerbl00d · 1 year

Note

omg can ypu write something with one bed trope with shanks, rayleigh, rosinante/corazon and (if you’re comfortable writing him) maybe doffy?

I’d love if it could be like mutual pining ish and not established relationships 🫶

i don’t have a preference for how it’s written (like headcanons, blurbs etc) so just however you like it! i love to read the things you write 🤩

only one bed trope with the one piece boys

☆ characters: shanks, roger, benn, rayleigh

☆ up next: taking an aphrodisiac with them and seeing who gives in first w/ one piece boys

☆ a/n: absolutely loved this request! i'm still on marineford so i'm not super familiar with cora and doffy, but i promise i'll make up for their absence in this fic in the future ;3. enjoy!

shanks

It was a calm day at sea, with steady winds and vibrant sunlight.

Being a Red-Haired pirate meant drinking, and fighting, and a lot of playing cards, and more drinking.

As time passed you’d grown somewhat envious of crews with women on them. You longed to spend your idle time with other women, painting your nails, gossiping, even just spending time together.

Your crewmates tried as best they could, but there was only so much hair braiding grown men could tolerate.

Shanks, out of all of them, was the most eager to help you feel more at home. He let you paint his nails- though you were limited to red and black polish. He let you teach him how to make sugar scrubs, and even sometimes, if he wanted to “relax and rejuvenate” himself, he’d do facemasks with you.

You’d always thought he was handsome, even before you’d joined the crew. And had more than once found yourself staring at his wanted posters. But to be on the seas with him was an entirely different experience. The friendship that accompanied piracy was unexpected, but an unbelievably close bond.

You felt the same about all your crewmates, they were family and you knew you’d readily die for them. But you didn’t get the same butterflied around all of them that you got around Shanks.

When it was late at night and you were still outside completely unaware of the dropping temperatures and waning moonlight, he’d find himself making his way out of his cabin to find you and lead you back to bed, offering to braid your hair the way you taught him.

More often than not, you’d accept his offer, soaking in how gently he took your hair into his hands, his knuckles softly grazing the back of your neck.

You’d been lounging outside on the deck where the sun shone brightest, taking advantage of the unusually pleasant weather.

You laid out on a towel, the sun bathing you in that kind of pleasantly ebbing heat that makes you feel like it was coming from within.

You could feel your skin tanning, glowing, and glistening as the ship gently rocked back and forth.

Your bikini was tiny, a necessary measure to ensure that you got evenly bronzed, and you’d happily sauntered past your crewmates, unbothered by their playful whistles and cheers as you walked past them toward your spot.

After a peaceful fifteen minutes of sunbathing, you were joined by your captain.

“Mind if I tan with you?”

“Not at all, Captain.”

Shanks smiled, you knew he liked when you called him that.

He laid down next to you, your arms grazing one another.

You felt yourself dozing off, before a loud bang! woke you up.

You and Shanks both shot up, running toward the source of the sound, along with the rest of the crew.

A plug had gotten shot out of the hull of the ship and water had started flooding it.

Fuck, you thought, my room’s gonna flood.

Shanks and Benn barked commands at the crew and you all started working towards plugging the source of the flooding.

You were limited in your ability to help, given that you were still in a bikini and knew a lot less than your crewmates about plugging holes.

Shanks laughed as you got soaked by the water and by the time the problem was solved, he was out of breath.

You made your way back up to where you’d been, hoping to have caught some more sun before having to face your definitely flooded room. When you were greeted with the warm orange and purple hues of sunset, you headed to the kitchen for a beer.

You sat on the counter and turned when a slight knock on the wall beckoned your attention.

“Hey, Shanks.”

“So,” he started, not wanting to upset you, “Your room got-”

“Flooded. Yeah, I figured.”

You sighed, there was nothing of significant importance in there, and you knew you could buy new things, but it was going to be a pain in the ass.

“Thanks for confirming, though. I’ll go and buy new stuff next time we dock. The lack of a bed kind of sucks though,” you polished off the beer in your hand.

“Sleep with me,” he said.

“Ha. ha.”

“What? I’m being serious!”

You paused to consider it.

“Shanks, c’mon. I’ll take a bunk in the men’s quarters.”

“Not sure that’s any better.”

You laughed, “It’s definitely not.”

He got up and extended a hand toward you, which, after a moment of hesitation, you took.

“You don’t even need to grab anything, I have a bunch of extra shirts.”

“And an extra toothbrush?”

He smiled at you, “We can share that too.”

“Ugh, gross.”

You waited until you were really tired to actually make your way over to his bedroom, hesitating before you finally knocked on the door.

He opened it, and it was clear he’d made his best attempt to clean up his room for you.

You sat on the poorly made bed and told him his room looked nice.

“Good enough to sleep in?”

“Perfect.”

He smiled with pride. It was sort of adorable.

He sat on the other edge of the bed, unexpectedly awkwardly.

You decided to lay down and make yourself comfortable, you pulled the covers over yourself.

“Very soft,” you noted.

He lightly laughed and followed in suit, situating himself under the covers.

You had your backs to one another- it felt too foreign like you didn’t know one another.

You flipped over, “Shanks turn around.”

He happily obliged, turning with a goofy smile plastered on his face.

Reaching down, he pulled the covers up to cover your arms and the two of you talked about anything and everything.

Neither of you remembered falling asleep.

You woke up later than usual the next morning, the sun was already high and beaming through the Captain’s window. The soft duvet that covered you seemed as though it was trying to keep you in bed, and it had the generous aid of Shanks, who had a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He was still asleep, it seemed, and was breathing gently.

You should’ve been up hours ago to get all your chores and work done… but you had a feeling that the Captain might let you off the hook this one time.

Sleep started to weigh down your eyelids again, and you let it wash over you, snuggling back into Shanks’ chest. You fell asleep quickly, but not before feeling him press a soft kiss

to the back of your head.

roger

The warm bath water, full of bubbles and essential oils, soaked into your skin, slowly sloshing back and forth and back and forth along with the steady lull of the ship.

The few moments you got to yourself were always cherished. They were rare, and when they did happen you always felt anxious, but you finally felt as though you could relax.

You dipped your head below the water a few times, letting your hair soak, braiding it over your shoulder as you closed your eyes and let yourself let go of all the anxieties, and worries, and stresses that came with being a Roger pirate.

The dim warmth from the candles paired perfectly with the bit of moonlight that made its way through the bathroom window.

And, like clockwork, when you’d allowed yourself to indulge in the moment and started to finally relax;

Knock. Knock.

You sat up, sighing.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you arranged the bubbled around yourself as the door opened.

Roger walked his head in, and just as quickly covered his eyes when he saw you in the bath.

“Sorry, Y/n,” he laughed, “Didn’t know you were taking a bath!”

“Right. Because that definitely isn’t what bath-rooms are for.”

He sheepishly tugged at the collar of his shirt, his hand still resting on his face.

“So…” he started, clearly guilty of something.

“Just tell me what happened.”

“Right. Right, well, you see, Rayleigh and I thought we might work on getting the boys to bond a bit more.. Since they fight so much.”

You sat in the tub, watching as he struggled to tell you why he really interrupted your alone time, not saying anything.

“Companionship is the most important thing for good pirates. Establishing connections. There is no better greatness than being loved, than having a partner, someone to rely on. And well, the boys are so young and they bicker so much and fight day in and day out, and so we figured we’d try and start patching that up while they’re still just kids-”

“The point, Roger?”

“Yes-” he stumbled over his words, “Yes- the point. Alright, so Rayleigh suggests a friendly game of catch, seeing as they were in good spirits and they agreed and so we started, just with simple baseballs at first.”

He slowly took his hand off his eyes and searched your face for some kind of expression, anything.

You gave him nothing, but your impatience was evident.

He cleared his throat, “And the boys seemed to enjoy it so I- so we suggested using something more challenging and… R-rayleigh found a bowling ball.”

You’d tried to keep a completely neutral expression, to keep him on edge. But at this, your eyebrows failed you and furrowed.

Still, you said nothing.

“And Shanks- strong boy, very adept and- and promising.. He, well, unintentionally of course-”

“Roger.”

He nodded and swallowed hard. “He threw it through your window. There’s glass everywhere. It broke the bedframe, there’s a dent in your wall. It-it’s a mess. That they’re cleaning.”

You remained silent. Wordlessly you stood up, earning an uneasy laugh from your Captain as he debated whether or not to cover his eyes again. He chose not to.

You walked toward him, reached past his shoulder, your nose grazing the tip of his, and grabbed your towel.

You dried yourself off and wrapped the towel around yourself.

“So where am I sleeping tonight?”

Roger smiled.

“No.”

“Would you rather sleep with Rayleigh? Or share a bed with the boys?”

You huffed.

You’d decided to take the right side of the bed, since it was closer to the door and, as you had so eloquently put it, “Get the hell out of here” in the morning.

Roger had laughed when you’d said that and despite your best efforts to stay upset you smiled at him.

The two of you lay down on your backs, facing the ceiling.

“Comfortable?” he asked. “No.”

He shifted and brought two arms around your waist pulling you into him.

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of pink, you didn’t like not being in control.

“Roger!”

“Nuh-uh,” he said, “Captain’s orders.”

You sighed but obliged, letting him spoon you.

His arms were strong and you could feel the muscles of his chest through the thin t-shirt he wore.

“You’re hugging too tight!”

He relented, albeit slightly.

You pushed his arms out and crawled on top of him, laying down on his chest, resting your head on your hand which was propped up by your elbow.

He laced his hands together and brought his arms up behind his head, laying on the pillow and looking at you.

You liked this more, you were on top.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Do you ever worry about those two?”

He smiled one of his signature smiles at you, “No.”

You pinched his chest.

“Ok! Ok- yes,” he admitted, bringing a hand down to rub at the spot you pinched, “Christ, woman.”

You ignored him, “So do I. But it’s only because I know they’ll both be great. In one way or another.”

“Or another,” he laughed.

You woke up in the middle of the night, your arms wrapped around your Captain’s neck, head on his chest. His arms were around your waist and he was out cold, lightly snoring.

You smiled and pressed kisses wherever you could reach.

In the morning, your anger would return and you’d give both him and the boys an earful. Rayleigh, too, if he wasn’t smart enough to wait out your temper.

But for now?

You’d sleep.

When Roger woke up the next morning your side of his bed was empty. He groggily sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

When was the last time I slept that well? he thought to himself.

There was more sunlight entering his room than usual and he turned toward the source of it.

There, right in the center of his wall was a gaping hole, perfectly round.

On the floor beneath it was a bowling ball.

He stood up, contemplating the mess in his room. He looked through the whole to find you barking at Shanks and Buggy to continue mopping the floors. You had a ruler in your hands and Buggy was rubbing the back of his head.

He laughed, loudly.

‘I think I’m in love,’ he thought, before going out to join you in yelling at the two.

benn

“I’d like to apologize in advance,” Shanks announced to the crew, earning several groans in return.

“Yes, yes,” he continued, “Well, as it would happen, I miscounted. Two people are going to have to share a bed.”

This time the crew responded with some cheers and whoops, and you heard more than one person mention your name.

You sighed.

Hopefully, it was Lucky and Yasopp. They probably shared their bed anyway.

“To decide fairly, Benny here suggested we draw straws.”

More groans from the crew.

“Tough crowd,” Benn mused.

Shanks held up a plastic cup with a bunch of wooden sticks in it like a child at an arts and crafts fair.

He shuffled them around before drawing two.

The air was hilariously tense.

Who cares if they have to share a bed? you thought to yourself.

“Benn! Haha!” he laughed, “And…. Y/n!”

The crew erupted into a cacophony of whoops and cheers.

Your cheeks darkened and you nibbled at the inside of your cheek.

Of course.

You made brief eye contact with Benn, who looked as cool and composed as ever.

Noticed only by your Captain, was the slight blush that dusted his cheeks.

The room was smaller than either of you had expected.

And so was the bed. You’d have to practically be on top of each other.

“I’m more than good on the floor, you take the bed. I only ask for a pillow.”

You gave him a look.

“I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor Benn, and there’s only one pillow.”

You both sat in silence staring at the bed.

“I’m sure there’s a way… to work this out.”

You giggled, “In a 2-foot wide bed?”

Benn smiled.

“It’s funny. We’d die for each other in battle but a bed is where things get awkward.”

“It’s only awkward ‘cause you’re so awkward.”

He looked down at you, a somewhat insulted expression resting on his face.

“I’m fine sleeping with you!”

He raised a brow.

“N-no! No! Not like that! I’d never- I just meant like…” you gestured broadly toward the bed

“You’d never, hm?”

“See what I meant about you making things awkward?”

He laughed.

Sitting on the bed made things less tense, you folded your legs, sat on your heels, and faced Benn who sat leaning against the wall with his legs hanging off the bed.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, searching for a lighter.

He came up empty-handed.

“I have one,” you said, reaching into the front pocket of your bag to grab your pink lighter.

“Cute,” he leaned forward, cigarette between his lips, lighting it.

You flipped through some pages of a magazine as Benn read.

“Can I try it?”

“Be a little more specific, sweetheart.”

Your body warmed up at the nickname.

“Smoking.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded eagerly, reaching for the cigarette that still resided between your vice-captain’s lips.

A large hand wrapped around your wrist before you could reach it.

You blinked to look up at Benn, “Let me help.”

He took the cigarette from his lips and brought it to yours, which were already so obediently parted.

You inhaled the smoke, your lips closing around the cigarette, gently brushing Beckman’s fingers.

“Take it easy,” he said.

You breathed in, tears pooling in the bottom of your eyes, and tried to hold it in, but found yourself stuck in a spasm of coughing.

Benn laughed, and rubbed your back, before taking another puff himself.

You scooted closer to him, emboldened by the burning heat in your lungs, and were practically on his lap.

“Let me try again,” you asked, “Guide me.”

“Okay.”

He held the cigarette to your lips, and you awaited instruction.

“Gently suck in the smoke- don’t inhale, just suck lightly.”

You obeyed, your lips softly closing around the soft paper, drawing in the smoke to the back of your throat.

“Good,” he praised, pulling the cig away from your lips, “Now hold it there for a moment, let it warm your mouth.”

You held it, turning to look up at him.

It took him a moment to find the words he was looking for, what with a majority of your ass on his lap, your hands resting on his chest, your eager doe eyes looking up at him- he was getting rather distracted.

“L-like that, yeah.”

“Mm-mmm?” What’s next?

He smiled, lightly laughing, “Now just inhale through your mouth as you normally would, but do it slowly.

Your lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as you inhaled the smoke, feeling a deeply satisfying burning sensation spreading through your lungs.

Benn had opened the room’s main window earlier, and a cool breeze had found its way in. You got up, to Benn’s obvious disappointment, and closed it.

This time when you sat back down, you inched yourself the rest of the way forward, making your way fully onto his lap.

Maybe it was the smoke that had started filling the room or the fact that now you two were alone and touching there was no point in denying what you’d been feeling for one another, but this time, as he drew the cigarette from his mouth you leaned forward and placed your lips on his.

His lips closed back around yours, slowly at first- not out of hesitation but indulgence.

You felt his tongue lightly swipe your plump lower lip, teeth gently pressing down against it, and you released a staggered breath into his mouth.

Your heart was pounding against your chest as your mouth flooded with the flavors of tobacco and an unidentifiable clean taste, almost like lemon.

His hands found the fat of your ass, and as he laid his back against the bedrest, now fully taking up the bed, he lifted you up so you were fully on his lap, your thighs straddling his hips.

A strong arm trailed up your back, resting his hand against the base of your neck, gently pulling backward to give him access to your throat.

He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his tongue swiping over every place he kissed. It made you incredibly sensitive and you started to softly squirm in his grip, moaning his name between kisses, holding half-lidded eye contact as strings of saliva connected your mouths.

You didn’t sleep much, despite Benn’s sincere efforts to get you both to bed. The last thing you vividly recalled before sleep outweighed your desire for more of him was how overwhelmingly sweet and sensitive his touch was on your body- how softly he handled you. His strong arms massaging your back and palming your tits.

The next morning you both awoke to a violent knocking on your door.

“Vice Captain! The Captain is requesting your presence, immediately!”

You groaned as you slowly opened your eyes, the idea of leaving the intoxicating warmth of your bed making your head hurt.

To your delight, Benn simply wrapped his arms tighter around you and flipped you both over to face away from the door.

“Tell him to fuck off! I’m busy!”

You giggled, knowing that the crew would put two and two together.

For a moment you worried about how they’d react- was this something that could potentially be dangerous?

As though reading your thoughts Benn gave you another reassuring hug, his hands finding your boobs, lightly squeezing them.

“Worry about it later, Sweetheart.”

And just like that, you fell back asleep.

rayleigh

“Tired already?” Rayleigh teased, handing you the beer you’d sent him to grab.

“It’s ten past three, I should’ve been in bed hours ago.”

He laughed, rubbing your back.

“I figured you’d have gotten used to the late nights after a good expedition.”

You shrugged, “I guess, but I’m never more tired than when we’re done with an ‘expedition’.”

He smiled at your air quotes around his term.

You popped open the can of beer he’d handed you and took a few big sips.

The moon was full and the clear sky ahead meant perfect travel conditions for when the crew set sail tomorrow morning.

The salty air smelled like home, and you took a few deep breaths.

It was chilly out, but the fire in front of you more than made up for it, and you felt warm inside from the several beers you’d downed.

The ship was still full of life, but it was now concentrated into small groups of partiers that were somehow still awake.

Your captain was, of course, one of the main contributors.

You leant against Rayleigh as the both of you watched him and laughed.

Your vision slowly blurred as you closed your eyes.

A not-so-gentle tap on your shoulder woke you up. You blinked your eyes open, suddenly aware of how cold it was.

A pair of strong arms were wrapped around your body, carrying you bridal style.

“What the hell?”

“Calm down,” Rayleigh replied, “You fell asleep and I figured I’d bring you to your room but it’s- uh, occupied.”

“What does that mean?”

You jumped out of Rayleigh’s arms and peeked into your room to see what was going on.

Shanks and Buggy were passed out on your bed, several alcohol bottles littering the floor. They were sleeping back to back like a pair of milk-drunk kittens.

“I don’t wanna move them,” Rayleigh explained, “Or they won’t sleep for a week- what with all that alcohol in their system.”

You hated to agree but the two boys were energy houses if you’d ever seen one, it was best to let them sleep when they slept.

“Okay, I’ll take one of their bunks then. Not ideal but if it keeps them out of the way…”

You walked into the room to grab your toothbrush and makeup remover and slipped past your vice-captain to head toward the men’s barracks.

“Y/n, sweetheart,” he called out to you, “Hold on a sec, will ya?”

You turned, “Rayleigh, I’m tired and I haven’t showered yet- what do you want?”

He walked toward you, approaching you with his typical confidence, standing in front of you so as to block your path.

“Why don’t you spend the night in my room, hm?”

You rolled your eyes, and pushed him to the side, too tired to entertain him.

He grabbed your wrists as you tried to walk away, pulling you into his chest.

He stood you still, wrist still in hand, and bent down to talk in your ear, and for some reason you let him.

“I’d like to use this opportunity to remind you that my room has its own private shower.”

You sighed.

“And a bath.”

Private bathroom… clean sheets…. Rayleigh. You thought about it for a second.

“Okay, fine but only this once.”

His room was bigger than expected. You had half a mind to chew him out for living like this while half the crew was stuck sharing bathrooms and beds, but you supposed that was one of the perks of being vice-captain.

“What do you think?”

He winked at you.

“It’ll do, I guess. Where’s the shower?”

He laughed, and despite your best efforts to not inflate his ego, you also smiled.

He pointed toward the bathroom and you entered.

You stepped out of the shower and looked for a towel, failing to find one.

Fuck.

“Rayleigh! Where are your towels?”

“Top drawer, sweetheart!”

Double fuck.

You inhaled, “Rayleigh?”

“Hm?”

“I can’t… reach.”

You could practically hear the infuriating smile spreading over his face.

“Coming,” he said, his voice had a slight lilt to it.

He knocked before he entered and you covered yourself as best you could. Not like he hadn’t seen this much before, right? You’d worn bikinis on board.

Wrong. He walked in and was struggling to keep his eyes off of you, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.

This made you feel good- great, even. To have Silvers Rayleigh blushing at the sight of you? Scoundrel or not, you’d take it.

He grabbed you a towel and eagerly turned around to hand it to you.

“You know you’re gonna have to remove at least one hand to grab it right?”

“Which would you like me to remove?”

He seemed slightly taken aback at your sudden reciprocation of energy.

“Surprise me.”

He looked down at you with an intensity that you almost recognized- but this was different. You’d seen how he looked at enemies, at pirates and warlords he was planning on killing, but this? This was full of desire and lust.

Surprise me, his words echoed in your head.

He was so irritatingly arrogant. So self assured. You figured a lesson might be useful.

Before he could register what was happening you landed a heavy slap to his face, and wrapped the towel around yourself.

He held his cheek in shock, watching you walk out.

“Pervert.”

You got into his bed, not bothering to put on any clothes.

Extremely aware of his hawk-like watch on you, you sat up in bed and peeled the towel off. You faced away from him, to ensure he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing anything.

You slipped under the covers and turned off the lamp at your bedside.

Within seconds you felt Rayleigh crawling into bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing kisses to your neck.

“Pretty as you are, you give me a headache, you know that?”

“I know.”

Another kiss to your neck.

He trailed a hand up and down your arm, lulling you to sleep.

Yawning, you felt sleep start to settle into your body, feeling as though gravity was pulling you down further into the mattress.

“This won’t happen again, Ray.”

“I know.”

Three weeks later, you woke up in your Vice Captain’s bedroom for the ninth time since that night.

His hands were tangled on and around you and he was snoring loudly.

You turned to face him, his arms stayed wrapped around you.

“G’morning,” he yawned, “Sleep good?”

You kissed him, and then kissed him again, and again.

“I did.”

2K notes · View notes

heartshapedbubble · 3 months

Note

Ello can I request a Norton Fools good x fem reader where she came across the blown up mines and sees Norton (in his hunter form) she’s scared at first but starts to recognise him and slowly starts to approach him reaching her hand up to cub his cheeks ( bro this man needs all the love! )

HOO BOY i agree tho... his release made me regain my interest in norton🫡🫡

[not to be a scum but i'm still open for sanrio emma comms btw😭😭]

fool's gold: imagine...⛏️

cut for length!

paying the bills has become a hellish cycle. break your back to pay off the expenses, relax for the following twenty-ish days, and be sent into frenzy again, not knowing if you're going to have a roof over your head tomorrow or not.

you found yourself hopelessly skimming through newspaper, looking for any job offer possible that would easen up the burden on your wallet. The paper was plastered with offers from bars, post offices and restaurants, but those were a always gamble. will you get your wage or not? and if you will, when? too much effort for something so high-risk.

at last, a small offer in the corner of the page caught your attention. pressed in miniscule letters, it said: MINE RESEARCH. EMPLOYEES URGENTLY NEEDED. EQUIPMENT PROVIDED. underneath the text, an attractive number: $15,000 payed off immediately after the job is done.

not only could this solve the rent for the following 3 months, you'd also have some money left for yourself! you rang the number the second you got home and successfully scored the job, due to the urgency of the situation.

it took you a day or two to start thinking about the job. what do you exactly need to know for mine research? probably at least some physical strength and stamina, you thought. surely it can't be too complex.

you arrived at the mine right on time, the sun slowly slipping back into the horizon to let the moon take center stage. to your dismay, you realized no one else applied for the job. maybe this wasn't a good idea after all? crawling through the narrow, rocky terrain all alone doesn't sound like the ideal scenario. no living being in sight, and 20 minutes have already went by.

still, that money is way too good to pass up. you picked up one of the yellow helmets piled up at the entrance, prayed to whatever god out there that your flashlight has enough power to last the following 2 hours and mindlessly rushed into the collapsing mine.

for the following 10 minutes, your sight unfocused while your mind took the lead, in front of and all around you just rocks and grime, shadows dispelled by the flashlight held by your hip like a lance. only after a good 5 minutes of running did you realize that you, in fact, have no idea what you're supposed to do. what qualifies as mine research? mining, inspecting the ores, measuring the surface?

all sweaty and breathless, the tunnel led you to a large room inside of the mine, the roof extending towards what seemed like a pitch black abyss. carts messily thrown around, bumpy and unpolished geodes laying all over the place, when was the last time a living being stepped foot into this mine? it made sense that such a large sum of money was needed to attract volunteers.

you carefully moved through the rubble, trying to avoid stepping onto pickaxes and shrapnel splayed all over the ground. since you forgot about the gloves your bare hand now held onto the unpromising terrain, the other firmly squeezing the only source of light in this limbo.

the surface grazing your hand now seems like it became... smoother? no longer does it cut and pierce your palms. it's bumpy, but at least you're not risking an infection anymore.

moving inch by inch in fear of falling, the stone below changes its form. you don't even pay attention to the fact that you're now grabbing onto cloth and that, below your palm, a steady pulse is faintly beating.

it's already too late when you realize that you're not alone, and the stone below you starts to take shape and morph until it extends towards the ceiling, now towering over you, slouched like a ragdoll.

complementing the cold shades of grey, a face emerges from the shadows. pale, with defined cheekbones, although malnourished. only his bust passes as human, as below his collarbones there's nothing but a mosaic of pebbles and boulders forming his torso, arms and legs. it - or he, perhaps - is breathing with struggle, coughs interrupting his wheezes here and there.

you feel a sense of dread overcoming you. you freeze on the spot, but he doesn't budge, either. lifeless except for the fact he's breathing and his heart ticks like a machine.

you draw back a step, and he lunges forward, seemingly still not used to this monstrous body of his. he could harm me with ease if he wanted to, a thought suddenly manifests in your mind, and with newfound bravery you inspect the cryptid like a sculpture. your hand grazes over his bumpy and unfinished hands, tugs at the remains of his clothes around his chest. he groans, in annoyance, you assume, but doesn't resist. you climb up a cart to reach his face, your fingers pinch his stubborn hairstrands, inspect the cavity in which his other eye once laid. in a moment of either stupidity or courage you roughly pinch his cheeks - they're cold to the touch, but it's funny how naturally does his intimidating face mush like a little boy's. kind of cute. after a minute of cooing to yourself two of his rocky fingers gently pinch your wrists and put them back to your sides, but his one foggy eye doesn't divert its gaze from yours.

perhaps the flashlight can last an hour more.. you've just began getting to know him, and the mystery of the mine and his origin still lay cold for you to discover.

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jadedxhearts · 2 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

Your crew abandons you on an island, one that's said to have the demon of a once-legendary pirate inhabiting it. Though you never expected for the demon to desire pleasure, above all else...

Warnings: smut, demon! Law, fem reader, not proof-read.

Shivering from the breeze on the island, you frowned as you trudged on to find a spot for shelter. Your crew had laughed when you’d directed them to the island, claiming that the tales of the demon who resided on the island were childish fantasy stories. As their captain, you’d rolled your eyes and gone to the island anyway. But now- you were starting to regret that decision.

The second you’d stepped foot onto the island, the wind seemed to change, an odd low humming sound whistling through the air. Your now ex-crew, being freaked out and panicked by the odd phenomena, threw your small amount of personal belongings off the ship, claiming you were now “cursed” and “would bring bad spirits back” if you got onto the ship again. And without another thought of you, their captain’s safety, they took off with your ship, leaving you on the lone island.

With your items in a small pack, you continued walking, eyes scanning your surrounding area to look for anything of use. Food, a fresh water source, shelter, anything. Seeing nothing, you grumbled out curses, bad-mouthing your ex-crew to any unseen animals or spirits around.

Finally, just as it started to rain, you came across a cave. It was an interesting cave; crystals in varying shades of blue and gold all along the top of the opening in the mountain. Deciding this was as good as you’d get for now, you dove into the cavern, escaping the worst of the weather.

Starting a fire wouldn’t be too difficult, you determined, seeing some branches and dried leaves that had blown into the cave who knows who long ago. You had some flint in your back, thankfully, so it seemed you had some luck.

When you’d finally gotten the small fire going, you drank a small amount of water, not wanting to waste what you had. Then, you sat, alone, looking at the various crystal formations in the cave, thinking they looked incredibly pretty as they shimmered from the light of your fire.

Then that low hum picked up again, and you were suddenly horribly aware of how alone you really were.

“Who do you think you are, venturing into my domain, mortal?” A deep voice echoed throughout the cavern, scaring you.

Eyes widening, you flew up to your feet, head spinning in all directions, looking for whoever had just spoken to you. But there was nobody. At least, physically, there wasn’t.

“I- my crew abandoned me here,” you managed to say, voice uneven. Your fear was evident. Not good.

“Did they now? How come?” The voice questioned.

“I… wanted to investigate the tales of this island,” you replied. “The legend of an ex-warlord, one of the most fearsome pirates, part of a no-longer existing group named ‘The Worst Generation’… his spirit is said to reside here,” you explained, then realizing something as you spoke. “That… must be you?”

There was a low chuckle, and it sent goosebumps over your skin. It was oddly delightful to hear.

“I was once a pirate named Trafalgar Law, that is true,” he told you, and you could almost hear the smirk in his tone, “but now I am nothing more than a demon. Tell me, mortal, why did you seek me?”

“I, uh…” you trailed off, not really sure, “I just… I like investigating these things. Wanted to see what was true and what was myth.”

The demon hummed, suddenly materializing before you. He wasn’t what you expected, honestly. He resembled a human, but his skin was now dark blue-ish in color, though you could barely make out black hair and regular human features on his body. He seemed to have tattoos that traveled up his form like flames, bleeding into an aura of pure darkness that surrounded him. And most of all, this demon had piercing gold eyes that seemingly glowed.

Gasping, you reflexively took a few steps back, startled by the sudden physical being in front of you.

“Didn’t anybody tell you what really happens in my domain?” He then asked, and you could see him smirking.

Feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach, you shook your head, voice evading you.

“When I was still a mortal being, I had a devil fruit that allowed me to cut up bodies without actually harming them,” he explained, eerily. “But here? They get chopped up and are left to die.”

Your eyes widened more, and you continued to back up, until you were met with the wall of the cavern against your back, giving you no more space to flee.

“I… I’m sorry,” you shivered, a more urgent fear and sudden, icy chill running through you, “I meant no harm, honestly… I… I’ll do anything, please!”

“Please what?” He growled, icy finger grazing under your chin.

“Spare me!” You cried, “I’ll stay here… doing whatever it is you can’t in an immortal form, i-in your service!”

He hummed, licking his lips. “There’s one thing that I haven’t had since being a mortal…”

“W-which is?” You stammered, hoping it wasn’t some sick desire that would result in your death.

“The pleasure of having a pretty girl like you in my… company,” he purred.

“Wh-what?”

“The warmth of a woman’s flesh, sinfully close to me,” he clarified, closing in on you. “Only foolish, greedy men looking for my nonexistent treasures have come to this island for the last couple centuries.”

Suddenly, there were cold, ghostly hands roaming your body, running up and down your arms, gliding over your waist. Leaning into the touch, you let your head fall limp against the wall behind you, mouth agape as icy fingers tugged at your clothing. Allowing the demon once known as Law to forcefully pull your clothing off, you relaxed your body, aiding him in removing the barriers between his immortal form and your soft, warm flesh.

Now bare, you whined as the demon ran his hands over your breasts, squeezing them and rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples.

“Such a needy thing, aren’t you?” He teased, frosty breath landing on your ear, running down to your exposed neck. You were suddenly glad he wasn’t the type of demon with sharp teeth, as the thought of him sucking out your blood and killing you crossed your mind.

Pulling your body away from the cavern wall, the demon carried you closer to the fire, and your heart fluttered as you thought, perhaps he was trying to keep you warm? Whether it was out of kindness or because he craved to feel warm skin, you were grateful to be less cold now.

Laying you against the cool floor, the spirit grabbed your wrists, almost clawing at them as he raised them above your head, a sudden unseeable force holding them down as his hand left them, joining his other in feeling up your thighs, massaging the flesh between ghostly fingers.

“Such a pretty mortal,” he hummed, forcing your legs apart. “To think you’ll be all mine… for eternity…”

One hand slid over your cunt, feeling around your folds until his fingers pressed against your clit, the tip of one rubbing against the little bud, making your pussy begin to drip with need.

Moaning, you strained against the invisible force holding you down, your hips being the only thing that you could move up. Grinding against the demon’s hand, you cried and begged for more.

“Please, demon,” you whined, head shaking against the ground, “take me, make me your whore for the rest of time!”

Chuckling, the demon’s breath tickled over your neck, and he bit down, licking the skin between his teeth. “As you wish, mortal.”

You weren’t sure when it’d appeared, but there was suddenly a hardened length prodding at your cunt, the demon using one hand to hold his cock, the other pulling your folds open, making your tight hole visible to him.

The head of the length pushed into you, and you let out a gasped moan at the intrusion. Squirming, your fingernails dug into your palms, not realizing how big this demon was compared to you until now.

He continued to shove himself inside, burying his cock into your pussy, stretching you wide open. His hands grabbed at your hips, clawing into your skin and surely leaving marks, as he lifted them off the ground and pulled you flush against where his abdomen would be. Pulling back, the demon then slammed into you, rocking your entire body, extracting a pleasured-scream from your lips.

“Cry for me, mortal,” he demanded, licking your lips. “Nobody can hear you. Nobody will save you from your life as my little toy.”

Letting out the loudest moans and cries you’d ever made, the demon chuckled deeply and continued fucking into you, claiming your body as his. You clenched around him, body hot and alive under his powerful, ghostly form. He was incredibly big, reaching so far into your cunt that you could almost swear his tip was kissing your cervix, pounding into your womb.

“L-Law!” You sobbed the demon’s name, which seemed to have a powerful effect on him. Growling wildly, almost like a rabid animal, the demon’s fingers dug deeper into your skin, and he bit down on your neck, teeth bruising the skin as his tongue sucked red spots into it, marking you as his. His hips slammed into yours with such force that your whole body swayed with the thrusts. He was so strong, holding so much power over you. As your velvety walls clamped down on him, orgasm beginning, you thought he was close to killing you with how rough he fucked into you. And gods, did it feel good.

Suddenly, an odd warmth erupted in you, filling your cunt with the hot, liquidy substance that spilled from the demon’s cock. You weren’t even aware that demons could cum, but here was one, stuffing you with his seed. And it was apparently a lot, from the way more and more continued to spill into you.

Tears slid down your cheeks, though you were certainly in no pain. You felt such euphoria, a rush of intense pleasure that had you feeling drunk, wanting even more. Mind feeling cloudy with thoughts of other ways the demon could fuck you, somewhere in the back of your head you realized there must’ve been some sort of aphrodisiac in the demon’s cum. Truly, he meant it when he’d said you’d be nothing but his whore forever. You’d forever be addicted to his touch, forever desperately needing more as the effects of his seed coursed through your veins.

And you’d happily accepted it, drool spilling from your lips as a small smile formed on them. This was the best possible outcome to being abandoned on an island. Bound to a demon, as his dutiful mortal lover, for eternity.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader smut #law x reader #law x y/n #law x you #trafalgar d water law x y/n #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d law x reader

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byuntrash101 · 1 year

Text

30 secs in heaven

dom!reader x sub!hyunjae

smut | nsfw | mdni

frat fuckboy!hyunjae,ennemies to fwb(ish), slut shaming hyunjae, shaming hyunjae for being a virgin (there's nothing wrong with being a virgin or a slut tbh they're sociological constructs it's your body do what u want), just shaming hyunjae in general (you are kinda mean oops), premature ejac, cumming untouched, lasting training, multiple orgasms (m), overstim (m), oral (f), face riding, nude sub/clothed dom, begging, degradation, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia, slight pain play, spit play, unprotected sex (it's discussed but they decide against it. don't be like them kids), creampie

requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]

turns out the campus' fuckboy is nothing more than a pathetic virgin that cums way too fast

[❛ this is a one time thing. ❜ + ❛ shut up and kiss me already. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REGLOB MY WORK 🖤

“How old are we?” Hyunjae snorted. “12?” he asked, cocking a disdainful eyebrow, looking down at the empty clear vodka bottle at the center of the circle.

“Don’t be a fucking twat for once will you?” Sangyeon retorted, eyes shooting daggers at the younger blonde man.

He wasn’t wrong though. Playing this hybrid of spin the bottle meets 7 minutes in heaven was kind of childish for a bunch of college sophomore and juniors such as yourselves but you didn’t speak your mind. For two reasons.

One. The night reached a state where everyone was trashed out drunk and passed out at various curious places. Even the DJ was blacked out, head resting on one of the house plants so the music was reduced to a random lo fi spotify playlist playing in the background on somebody’s unclaimed laptop.

Two. You didn’t want to side with Hyunjae. Ever. That man kind of repulsed you. You were never into fuckboys especially the ones that had the reputation to back the rumors. You were deeply convinced that every girl on campus has had a go with Hyunjae’s pogo stick and of course if that was what they wanted, great for them but that wasn't your style that's all.

“I don’t need a bottle to take a lucky girl to heaven” Hyunjae declared, a smug smirk playing at his lips, and looking through his long lashes at one of the girls in the circle, even daring to go as far as to wink at her. She immediately started to giggle.

As far as you were concerned you had to repress a gag and opted for a more discreet but just repulsed facial expression.

“Yeah right just spin it!” Eric hurried him by motioning to the empty bottle in the circle but that didn’t stop Hyunjae from throwing one last disgustingly fuckboyish eyebrow raise to the snickering girl.

“Aight” he said, reaching for the vodka bottle, starting to spin it.

Anddd of fucking course it had to land on you. At that moment you and Hyunjae made eye contact. The smugness is gone. You both look at each other in complete confusion, hung in time.

You are not fond of Hyunjae, that's a fact. A known one. The main interested party knew that much from one very reliable source. Experience.

Of course since you breathed and had boobs Hyunjae tried to get into your pants too back when you were a new and introverted freshman in a brand new and intimidating college. But Hyunjae learned pretty fast that introvertedness wasn’t to be confused with shyness. Because you certainly weren't the latter. You rejected him in a way that didn’t leave any room for interpretation or even second chances and he never bothered you again.

Fuck… Why me?

For a second you argued that the bottle landed between you and Giggles so you really didn’t mind letting her get into the sickeningly small closet with Mr. Universe. But unfortunately Sangyeon and Eric were way too happy to stick Hyunjae with one of the rare girls on campus that never showed interest towards him.

Before you could understand they whisked you both in the tiny closet. And you found yourself squished between a couple of mops, floor detergent and of course the campus’ Angel Face.

You both stayed quiet for a while, both awkwardly standing in the dark. Your arms crossed on your chest while Hyunjae leaned on the door.

“I mean” you were the first one to break the silence. “We can always just wait here for 7 seven minutes.”

“Yeah.”

Silence again. But it was somehow even more awkward. The air felt heavy, weighing down on your shoulder like lead.

“I don't want to get herpes or whatever”

You didn't really know why you said that but it just slipped out of you. Maybe because you hated how dry he was, not making a simple effort to at least talk to you or how he looked like being in your company was the most dreadful thing that could happen to him or maybe it was the booze talking. But nonetheless you said it.

“What?” he whipped his head in your direction.

“Yeah you surely have herpes with all the mouths that you kissed. Too bad they don't make condoms for your mouths” you laughed out loud.

At first Hyunjae looked pissed, sharp eyes peering at you but as his eyebrows relaxed on his forehead a sly smirk pulled his lips.

“You know what?” he started “I think you’re jealous…” he walked to you lifting his arms and placing both his palms at each side of your shoulder, forcing you to back up, trapping you between the wall and his large frame.

The untasteful scent of his overly sweet cologne mixed with the strong smell of cold tobacco floated to your nostrils, by reflex you pushed your chin back in your chest until the back of your head was against the wall too.

“Maybe you want to be added to my list?” he tilted his head bringing your face closer to yours.

He keeps a list? That's the cringiest thing you ever heard.

“Shut up and kiss me already. Let's get it over with”. You exhaled, bracing yourself.

“Kiss you?” Hyunjae started laughing. “You’re the last thing on earth I want to get my mouth on” he said before standing back straight, letting his hands fall to his side.

But before he could turn around you grabbed him by the collar and switched position with him, shoving his body onto the detergent bottle and you crashed your lips on him. To your surprise Hyunjae reciprocated the kiss, gradually he relaxed between your arms. You dared to open your mouth, letting your tongue slip past his lips. His flavor took over you, the taste of cigarettes and raspberry vodka filled your head. He started to breathe heavily and then moan into your mouth.

Hyunjae on the other hand didn’t even feel himself get hard. He didn’t have time to understand he liked this change of pace, he liked being pushed around, he liked that you pinned him against the wall and just stole this kiss from him.

You should have known he was enjoying this kiss a little too much but somehow it didn’t ring any bells to you and before you realized it his voice went very high pitched until he broke the kiss abruptly. When you looked at him his eyes were rolled back in his head and his jaw was hanging open.

“Fuckkk” he cursed in a throaty moan.

Silence again. You took your hands off his collar. You looked at him in confusion, looking for some kind of explanation on what just happened into his eyes but the only thing you found was evident and undeniable shame.

“Did you just…” you asked as Hyunjae bit down on his lip in worry when you looked down you spotted the disgraceful wet patch at his crotch.

“Are you for real right now?” you started to chuckle. “Did you really just fucking cum from a simple fucking kiss?” you started laughing louder. “7 minutes in heaven? More like 30 seconds! I can’t fucking believe it. Cumming untouched like a fucking prepubescent virgin.”

In this very delicate situation, saying Hyunjae felt vulnerable was an understatement. And this side eye he made, unable to hold your gaze, betrayed him right away.

“Wait?” you clapped your hand over your mouth. “Nooo wayyyy dude” you laughed even louder, throwing your head back. “Are you a virgin?”

The silence that followed spoke for itself. Hyunjae felt dizzy, he staggered backwards until his back hit the closed door.

“Wait, I don't get it… Did you pay those girls to say that you fucked them?” you were still half laughing.

He had nothing to lose anymore.

“N-no… I.” he looked back at you through his lashes, your cold, unwavering glare made him shudder. “I don’t even know how it started” he blurted. “Just one day that girl from my sociology class started to say she fucked me and that I was the best she’d ever been with and I never denied it. And then another girl said the same thing and then another…” Hyunjae’s words get caught in his throat and he swallows back a sob.

“Why didn’t you say anything, dipshit?” you spat. The biting tone made Hyunjae’s guts stir with an unknown feeling.

“I don’t know, okay?” one single tear rolled down his cheek.

There was something so satisfying in seeing Hyunjae crumble like this, catching him in a lie and finally letting the truth out. You wrapped your hand around his chin, nails poking at his wet cheeks as you made him look at you.

“Yeah I bet you loved having your harem following you around at parties and worshiping the ground that you walked.” You hissed between your teeth.

“Yes… But at the same time I was petrified to be with a girl… because of that reputation I was too scared to disappoint her that she would tell the truth to everyone…”

“And losing the attention felt unbearable, right?” you dug your nails a little deeper on his cushiony cheeks.

“Yess!!” he exclaimed, wincing at the pain, another repressed little sob pathetically shaking his large body.

“You know what…” you let go of his face, raising both your palms at each side of your face . “I don’t want to stay here for another fucking second.”

“No please” He whispered, pressing his back on the door to prevent you from leaving.

Maybe, there was an opportunity in all this. For both of you.

“I-I…” he hesitated. “y/n… I can offer you a deal…” he somewhat regained his composure, straightening his back against the wooden door.

You were intrigued.

“Maybe you… I mean…” he hesitated.

“Spit it out Lee” you urged him, your patience running thin.

“Maybe you could fuck me?” he blurted out.

“What?” you frowned in confusion.

“We could help each other. You help me… conquer my fear” Hyunjae walked on eggshells, the proposition sounding more and more like a polite suggestion rather than an actual deal “and in exchange I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. Anything goes” he added.

Now that was something you could get to enjoy. Breaking the cocky fuckboy into a pathetic little mess.

“You would like that wouldn't you? '” without a heads up you grabbed Hyunjae's crotch. Package tightly fitting in your palm. “You think I didn’t notice how your dick didn’t go down this whole time?” Hyunjae whimpered ever so slightly in response. “You like when I’m mean to you don’t you?” The blonde whined again but didn’t speak. “You like when I make fun of you, huh?” you grip around his balls becoming ever so slightly tighter. “When I call you names?”

“Yess” Hyunjae admitted in a broken whisper, eyes tightly shut, shame painting his beautiful features.

“Pathetic” you spit. “You cum from a simple kiss then stay hard when I laugh at you. Your cock is really begging to be used, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Use me” he responds back a little more eagerly than he would have liked. You clench a little harder around his crotch making him gasp for air and jolt his hips into your hand.

“Good boys always say please” you whisper in his ear, the hot air lifting goosebumps on Hyunjae’s skin, drawing a quiet whimper out of the boy.

“Please, please, please” he whispered back, shallow breaths giving away the urge he felt. You smirk at his state of aggravated neediness.

“This is a one time thing” you finally agreed as you find your fingers fiddling with the button of his jeans. Hyunjae’s face lights up in hope.

“Yes! Please! fuck me and I will never bother you again I’ll-” his voice got caught in his throat when you carefully peeled the denim off him. Hyunjae’s hips move against his will one more time when you drag down his wet and cum soaked boxers as he felt the cold air hit his scolding hot and leaking tip. You bit your lip at the sight. His cock hadn’t stop leaking from the kiss. Precum and cum mixing at making his cock glisten under the dim light of the closet.

“Take everything off and get on your knees” you said, taking a step back to allow him some space to fulfill your request which he did hurriedly.

In a flash he was sitting on his heels in front of you looking up at you through his lashes, both hands laid flat on his thighs while he waited for you. You didn't even bother taking your clothes off, only sliding off your underwear from under your skirt. When you lifted the fabric and unveiled to Hyunjae the very object of his desire he stopped breathing. He left like he had never in his life laid eyes on anything this beautiful, this perfect.

He licked his lips hungrily, wanting nothing more but to wrap his mouth around the glistening folds.

“Make me cum with your mouth like a good little fuck toy” you said shoving your hips onto his face.

Instantly Hyunjae started to move at a rapid pace burying his face in the wet crevices, wanting to drown in you. You grabbed the eager boy by his thick blonde locks.

“Slower you dumb cunt” you pulled archly on his face, making his neck bend awkwardly to look up at you. “You a fucking bitch in heat or something?” Hyunjae winced at the dull pain on his scalp.

Hyunjae took a deep breath to calm himself down and stuck his tongue out, carefully swiping it from your entrance to your clit. You let a satisfied sight slip off your lips. And Hyunjae’s hands fly to your thighs to ground his body between your thighs and his mind to the present. Trying so bad to keep it slow as your taste intoxicates him, turning him into an animal.

“Yeah like that” you say as you relax your hand around his hair, even gently stroking it. You start to rock your hips on his tongue. Grinding your clit on his mouth just a little harder.

Hyunjae reads between the lines and goes ever so slightly faster. Twirling his hot tongue around your erect nub then going back down to dip the tip at your opening earning a pleased moan from you. You throw your head back and just lose yourself in the pleasure he provides you. Letting your voice go more high pitched as you near your high

That sound alone is enough for Hyunjae to lose control again. He was holding off so well up until then. So well when you squeezed his crotch, so well when he stripped for you, so well when he first tasted your nectar on his lips but the sound you made while your scent filled his head was too much for him. Again the white clumpy liquid spurted out of his beet red cock to stained his thighs and stomach while he moaned into your pussy. His large body shaking under you as he orgasmed once more.

When you noticed you turned around only to witness what you feared had happened. You saw Hyunjae’s mess all over his thighs and stomach. The slimy liquid finding refuge in the dents of his hips around his abs. You grabbed a fist full of his hair again.

“You fucking pathetic little bitch” you pulled his face away from your folds. “You fucking came again!”

“S-sorry” he barely managed to say looking up at you with his cheeks and chin made shiny with your essence, mind still hazy from his high.

“You deserve punishment don’t you think?” you growled as you pulled harshly on his hair bending his neck backwards, the sharp pain making his eyes prickle.

“Yes, I do. ‘m sorry y/n” he started to mumble. His guts stirred in anticipation when he saw your glacial eyes stare back at him with resentment.

“Open your mouth” you demanded. “Stick your tongue out”

Hyunjae felt his cock twitch when he saw you lean in and purse your lips only to spit right on his tongue.

“Don’t swallow yet.” you instructed, hand still gripping tight around his hair. “Say thank you”

“Pthang you” Hyunjae replied as best as he could as the slimy foreign liquid rolled on his tongue, making his insides flutter with thrill and joy.

“Swallow” you said.

And he did. Happily taking your spit down his throat almost as a trophy an indelible token of what you both did in this closet.

You let go of his hair and step away and Hyunjae collapses. He sits with his legs forward and his sweaty back against the cool wooden door.

You positioned both your feet at each side of his hips and started to crouch down. Hyunjae jolts when he feels your hand wrap around his bare cock guiding it to your entrance. Cock twitching at the idea of serving you properly.

“Do you have a condom?” he asked between hisses as you lightly pump your fist around him.

“No. You?” you ask back and he shakes his head. You circle his tip on your hot wet folds which makes him arch his back against the door and press his lips into a thin line.

“Should we go get one?” he says, frowning in worry.

You let go of his cock and motion your chin to the door. “Go ahead. Go out and ask your friends for a condom.” You taunted him.

Hyunjae was conscious of the state he was in and the last thing he wanted was for his friends to see him like this, him that was so preoccupied with appearances. So he shook his head again.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy” you said as you grabbed his base again, angling him right at your entrance. “Today is a safe day for me” you said and you sunk yourself on his cock. The hot tip deliciously parting you, sliding with ease inside your drenched heat.

It took Hyunjae everything he had to not burst again. Finally popping his cherry. Finally feeling the delicious wetness and warmth of your pussy around him. Completely unrestrained, raw. He thought his whole body was going to burst into flames, his heart hammering against his ribs.

You saw him struggle, eyes shut tight, eyebrows digging a deep crease on his forehead, jaw clenched and nails clawing at the wooden floor. You grabbed his face between your fingers, sharp nails poking at his cheeks. The pain helped Hyunjae concentrate on something else that wasn’t the agonizing pleasure he felt on his throbbing cock.

“Look at me! Don’t you fucking cum, you hear?” you forced him to look at you. Slapping his cheek when you caught him losing focus, his eyes turning in his head. It worked and Hyunjae calmed down.

“Ok” he stated, out of breath. “I’m good”

You started to very slowly lift your hips up.

“I can’t fucking believe you came twice and you are still this fucking hard” you moaned as his tip was barely hanging inside of you to smash yourself back in. "You really are like a fuck toy ready to get used again and again and again" you said making your hips snap down with every word.

Hyunjae whimpered as a reply, biting down his lower lip in shame.

You climb the ladder of pleasure very rapidly given the orgasm Hyunjae robbed you of earlier you too were pretty worked up and with very little time you found yourself flirting with your edge again.

Hyunjae, on the other hand, was being tortured by the strong grip of your walls around him. As you were nearing your high you clenched down harder on him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.

“Y/n… aaah” he was out of breath. Large beads of sweat dripping down his temples and hanging under his chin. “I can’t hold back anymore. Gonna aaah c-cum” he was at the end of his rope. His fucked out half lidded eyes looking at you with the most miserable of expressions.

You knew you were close, you figured you let the man let go before he loses the sanity he has left.

“Cum” you said.

The result was almost immediate. Hyunjae moaned out loud, finally letting go of his clenched jaw to let it lose as a string of groans and high pitched moans left his lips, to reverberate on all the walls of the tight space, probably to be heard by everyone outside that was not knocked out drunk. You felt Hyunjae delivering an abundant quantity of cum right in your pussy. Each of your thrust shoving the cum even deeper inside your dripping heat.

But you hadn’t finish yet and you don't intend to let yourself be edged to this level twice on the same night. You weren't going to stop before you grasp your orgasm.

Hyunjae started to whine when you kept on bouncing on his sensitive and drained out cock. Still constricting the poor member around your unforgiving wall. Hips still going strong with the brutal pace, determined to rip your orgasm out of Hyunjae.

“Please. Slow down I–Aaaa” tears started to roll down his face mixing with the sweat on his chiseled jaw.

“Shut up, I'm almost there” you said, clapping your hand on Hyunjae's mouth. His face contorting in overstimulation at the forced pleasure he winced under your touch, the face of true suffering. Hyunjae’s anguish was the last straw for you.

You finally snatch your high, hips becoming sloppy as you let yourself moan out, throwing your head back and pushing your hips back and forth, making Hyunjae’s cum gush out of you, mixing his previous loads still pooling on his stomach.

You gradually slow down, riding out your high slowly until you come to a complete stop. You keep Hyunjae’s dick right inside you. After a couple of minutes of both of you trying to clear your minds and catch your breath you speak.

“You aren’t really ready be able to live up to your reputation yet but come see me again I’ll teach you to last for hours.”

a/n: ooooff. idk what happened here? i was really in my domme head space and my fingers slipped. thank you anon who requested this is one of my faves <3 guysss did you like it? if yes please consider leaving a comment or an ask. 1 comment = 1 forehead kiss from cat <3. ily

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apocalypse-shuffle · 6 months

Text

MICHAEL MYERS | THE SHAPE (Carpenter/Akkad Continuity)

────────────────────

Dating (or just coexisting with) Myers (Michael Myers x Fem!Reader)

Headcanons

NSFW-ish, 18+, minors dni, black!fem!reader, brief mentions of sex, canon typical violence

mainly going off the continuity of the first two films because I don’t want to talk about magic.

Pic Source: John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978) & Halloween H20

The man is using up all your resources. Does he let you feed him, not yourself, but he does eat your food (and then demand seconds so you have to make a big pot).

What’s yours is his (but what’s his is not yours) whether you like it or not.

Michael doesn’t speak, nor does he communicate through any surefire nonverbal means, so being with him is like constantly playing the most deadliest game of charades.

You’d been prepared for non verbal, what you hadn’t been prepared for was a heavy dose of malicious stonewalling. Michael almost wants you to fuck up and give him a reason, wants to see how far he can push you before you inevitably screw up and piss him off.

Every once in a while (after he’s significantly warmed up to you) you’ll get a grunt that you have to listen really hard for as he tries to get your attention. Any other time he’ll just be there, won’t announce his presence or anything, all of a sudden someone’s just breathing down your neck or something’s shifting in your peripheral vision and making your instincts go haywire.

Half the time Michael won’t even ask you to do something he’ll just carry you off to what he wants and set you down in front of it.

Michael communicates with his eyes the most though, it’s imperative that you learn how to interpret the different purposeful shifts of his eyes, the furrowing of his eyebrows behind the mask, and the stilted movements of his body.

Now, since you’re black you’ve gotta be extra careful. You being the person the real estate people were able to con into moving into the Myers house was definitely not why all eyes were on you.

Sure some people shake their heads at you for disturbing a house with that history, though none of them bother to actually tell you about it, but most people were just wary of you “on principle”.

You were black, this was a prominent residential street filled predominantly with white families who: “don’t want any trouble”. If you’re with Michael you’ve got to be careful because people are watching you hard already and will jump at anything just to justify their unreasonable wariness about you and get your ass out of town.

Soon as Michael starts killing again certain people immediately start pointing fingers at you. They claim it’s the house (maybe you were possessed or something) but you’re all more than aware that even if you’d moved into a different house with a less violent history you’d still somehow be suspect number one.

They were unfamiliar with you, and didn’t like the look of you, and you didn’t smile enough, and gave off a bad vibe (ie: was minding your business), and “These killings didn’t start back up until after she got here.” Nevermind the fact that you’d been living in Haddonfield for months before Michael showed back up.

There is no ignoring the extra problems Michael brings at your door. If anyone spots him coming into the house, and you don’t end up dead by his hand, you’re both going down by the cops.

The second he shows up and won’t leave, you accept the inevitable, you’ll be labeled an accomplice no matter how the actual situation plays out.

Personally I’m writing you taking the path of least resistance. You’ve accepted your faith, now it’s time to have fun.

I firmly believe that the only way you can stay alive with Michael is if you’re actively keeping him interested. The second he gets bored of you it’s over so you need to become a new obsession of his.

Keeping him interested can happen in a lot of different ways but sexually satisfying him is a pretty good bet. (This will only work if he’s feeling lenient enough to allow a relationship to form between you two though.)

Initially reacting a little abnormally to his appearance will allow a level of intrigue to form in Michael that will ultimately end up giving you a shot at continued life.

You’re not scared, or at least reacting how people usually do when they’re scared? Why? Everyone’s scared of him. *Interest piques*.

When in the mood he’ll want to figure you out, to test your limits after your first meeting, so use that to your advantage.

Sex with Michael is very one sided until/unless you push for otherwise, but will always be intense (it’s not always rough, but no matter what you’ll be trembling at the end). At the beginning Michael will also be incredibly clumsy, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing so if you’re gonna initiate then you better use your voice and instruct his ass on what to do if you want to have a good time.

Mild Detour: You wear waistbeads? Cool, I do too. Michael doesn’t give a shit. They’re pretty and instantly catch his attention once he’s actually able to see them, but that just marks the beginning of the end for you.

If you have waistbeads let me tell you something, he’s using those bitches like they’re a pair of handlebars. You’ll either need to have a backlog of beads, a girl on call, or the strongest waistbeads known to man, okay? He will be manhandling your ass wherever he needs you to be. It’s snap central with Michael; you’re being snatched one second and in the next the sound of little glass or wooden beads hitting the floor is reaching your ears.

Just in general if Michael wants anything sexual he’ll quicker physically maneuver you where he wants you to be until you get the hint than utilize any true acceptable form of communication. He could communicate properly mind you, he just finds it more fulfilling not to.

Non sexual ways to keep him interested enough in not killing you for encroaching on his space are if you meet his necessities and he’s in a mindset to care. There are times where in some movies Michael just has no problem living in a sewer when he could otherwise just kill someone and utilize their house and resources or secretly live in someone's house. He has options is what I’m saying and he seemingly doesn’t take advantage of them by choice so it’s hit or miss depending on iteration and mood whether Michael will deem basic care a priority enough to keep you alive as long as you provide him with it.

A delicate balance must be found between the two of you if you value your life. You’ve got to be assertive enough with him for him to be interested enough in you not to immediately kill you, but you cannot insult him or order him around. Ordering him around just reminds him of Loomis and you don’t want to remind him of when he was in the psychiatric facility.

The mask is off limits. Touch it without permission or attempt to take it off of him and it’s an immediate death sentence.

On the plus side though as a single black female he’s a great burglary deterrent and - once he likes you enough to regularly stalk you during his off time (ie: not October; that whole month is just one big trigger for him alongside any sight or mention of Loomis, Laurie, or Jamie) - Michael is also excellent assault and harassment deterrent as well!

The first night he sees you being harassed or assaulted, Michael splits the person’s skull open in front of you and you almost pass out from the strain of keeping in the highest, most terrified scream of your life. It’s horrifying and you're splattered with blood by the end. Michael is completely unphased in comparison, letting the body thump to the ground before casually walking off.

The obsession does pose an issue with your dating exploits however. A lapse in judgment you only allowed once after Michael’s bitch ass left the severed hand of the person you’d gone out on a date with in your bed (and that person subsequently turned up ‘missing’ afterwards of course).

You didn’t leave him out anything but some fucking oats for the rest of the month in revenge, but the fucker hadn’t even blinked at the bland splatter of food you’d laid out for him. Next time you’d go for something spicy (if you were feeling bold that is).

“You Time” is also impossible with Michael breathing down your neck for the majority of each month. Especially if you don’t want to engage sexually or “romantically” with him this is going to get wholly on your nerves. You want to read, play a game, masturbate, take a peaceful nap, or even take a bath without knowing he's waiting right outside of the door? Ha. Too bad, because you’ve got a six foot something obsessive asshole of a man insistent on breathing in the air that you breath out, and vise fucking versa at this point.

Michael and you are locked in for life if you’re still alive after that first encounter, and whether that means until one of you gets taken down or until Mikey Boy gets pissed enough at you to murder you himself is anybody’s guess.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This one was fun, I enjoyed writing this🧡.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it! this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

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honeybeedrabble · 5 months

Note

Hi ! Could i request a mafia au with a dark mafia boss kakashi x reader when you have the time please ?

omg wait… this is so good

I’m Your Man (i) : Kakashi x AFAB!Reader

CW: kidnapping, dark(ish) Kakashi, mafia boss!kakashi, mean!kakashi, intimidation, fear tactics, touching (F recieving), masturbation (m), somnophilia (??), lmk what i missed !!

18+ MDNI !!!

Konoha had changed. Nobody was sure when the change had started or even when it had gotten that much more apparent, but it hasn’t been the happy hidden leaf it was known to be in a while. If anyone had to pinpoint it, it would probably be after Sarutobi was reinstated as Hokage. The death of Minato Namikaze was no small setback, not when Kakashi had been his beloved student.

When Minato died, Kakashi was broken. The people he knew and loved had finally all left, he had nothing but his fathers shattered legacy to his name, and with his pride, ego and mental health completely damaged, he needed to rebuild it one way or another. And rebuild it he did.

Kakashi noticed how shit the economy was, with missions being more expensive by the day, people to barely afford them. He knew that people needed work done for cheap, he also knew people needed other kinds of work done for cheap. Assassinations, smuggling, money laundering, robbery- you name it Kakashi could get it done. And if not him, one of his trusted accomplices. So what better way to help the people while rebuilding his clan’s reputation than to create his own “community”?

“And what did this mystery client say about payment?” Kakashi asked, twirling a pen between his slender fingers.

“He said he would deliver the other half after it’s been carried out.” Yamato said, reaching into his pocket for a small picture of a man and a younger woman- you. Yamato gave Kakashi the photo, and Kakashi stared at it for a moment. The photo of your terrible father and your kind, innocent, unknowing face. He felt a strange pang in his stomach, a fluttering in his chest as he examined your features.

“No... payment is upfront, it always has been.” Kakashi said monotoned, not looking up from the photo.

“That’s what I told him. However this new client of ours is stubborn. He said the most he would do half up front and half after the bounty was over.”

“Just what is so peculiar about this man in this photo? Why do we need to bring him down? Why should I care about this drama?” Kakashi asked, tearing the photo in half, stuffing the piece with you in his pocket.

“The man in the photo hasn’t been taking any deals with our client. He didn’t tell me much but he’s bad news. The clients run out of options and he really needs for the deal to go through.” Yamato trailed off. Kakashi withdrew the crumpled photo of you from his pocket, then set it on his large wooden table. He tossed the photo of your father down next to it and stared down at the torn photo.

“Well then, Yamato… Go make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

_________________________________

It was late. Far too late, but you knew you needed some fresh air. Air away from your fathers strange deals and brusque demeanor. That was until the world went black and you woke up in a room you didn’t recognize. The walls were high and a dark crimson color, the floor a dark oak and the drapes halfway drawn, the soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting each window had your mind racing. Was it raining when you had left? Was it still the same night? What time was it? Most importantly- where were you?

“She’s awake?” A voice asked curiously. You looked around the dark room, trying to find the source of the question.

“H-Hello?” You called nervously, your breath shaky.

“Good job, idiot.”

“SHH! Both of you!” You froze. Three. Three. Different. Voices, None of which you had recognized.

Suddenly the large door from the other side of the room opened and you nervously hid behind a small blanket covering your waist, laying back down on the bed.

“Shoot!”

“What are you three- GOD DAMMIT YAMATO! I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU TO KEEP THE KIDS OUT OF THIS!” A large voice boomed. You shuddered under the blanket, eyes closed tight in hopes this were a dream and you would wake up anytime soon. But the rain falling against the buildings windows kept you terribly present in the moment.

“I-I’m sorry boss! I don’t know how they got in!” Presumably Yamato had said.

“They should be in bed by now! Just get them out- NOW!” The man yelled. You heard some shuffling along with the three previous voices murmuring something before the large door opened and the light pouring in from the outside of the room had vanished.

Heavy footsteps approached where you lay and you couldn’t stop your shaking. A few tears escaped your tightly shut eyes, silently praying that this wasn’t real. You felt a large hand grab at your ankle, pulling you out from under the blanket. You yelped as you were pulled out of the bed and dragged across the floor, scratching the hard wood in hopes to stop the movement. Tears fell down your face and you let out terrified whimpers, your fate uncertain.

“Would you stop flopping around like some kind of fish out of water?!” The voice asked. You were able to grab a corner of the blanket and pull it close to you.

The hand dropped your ankle and you sat down with your forehead against your knees and the blanket draped over you while you cried into your lap. You heard a heavy sigh and the sound of the man sitting in a chair or sofa. You could see the room around you light up and the sound of a small lamp being switched on.

You gathered enough courage to look up at the seated man infront of you. His legs were man spread wide as his temple rested against his fist, arm propped up on the arm of the leather chair. He was quite handsome, if only you could see more of his face. Still you were scared, and hid behind your legs once again.

“What am I going to do with you?” He asked rhetorically, mostly to himself. You looked helpless seated in front of him, your small cries making him unable to focus on a single train of thought.

“W-Who are y-you?” You asked with a shaky voice, sounding much less intimidating than you had hoped for.

“Do you seriously not know who I am?” He asked, slightly amused. You shook your head and he removed his head from his hand, his hands rubbing up and down his thighs while he sat up.

“My name is of little to no importance to you, seeing the position you’re in.”

“What position- what are you going to do with me?” You asked, unsure if you wanted to know the answer.

“For the next few days you will be in my custody until my client sees fit.”

“Who’s your client?”

“Why would I tell you?” Kakashi asked with a sneer, knowing fully well he wasn’t certain who the client was.

You cried again, feeling your stomach start to go sour with worry.

“Oh Gods…” kakashi huffed, standing up and walking over to you. He grabbed your blanket and threw it to the corner of the room. You gasped, slowly backing away from him. He grabbed you by your collar and brought you to his level, looking you up and down, looking at the real you the same way he would look at your picture.

When you finally gathered the courage to look at him again you realized he was wearing a hidden leaf headband over his eye. Your breath hitched as he made eye contact with you.

“Y-You’re Kakashi of the sharingan…” you said softly. He growled and dropped you, you landed to the floor with a thud and a grunt.

"Great..." He loomed over you, staring down at your frightened position on the ground. He backed away towards the giant door and flipped on a light switch, the room instantly lit up and you looked around.

Not much to write home about. An above average sized room- it looked like a guest room by the lack of furniture and personality. You looked at the single bed you had woken up on previously, a pillow and a sheet lay on top.

"Is this supposed to be my room?" You asked, looking out the rainy window. All you saw in the dark outside was a thick forest. Great.

"Yeah." Kakashi responded curtly.

"Do I get a tour of this place?" Kakashi whipped around, his brow furrowed.

"Were you born yesterday or something, girl? No! No you don't get a fucking tour- for gods sake this isn't a hotel! You're not even going to be leaving this room."

"W-What if I need to go to the bathroom?"

"I'll have someone escort you across the hall." You hung your head, wishing you hadn't even stepped a foot outside for that god forsaken walk. You felt a hand spread across the top of your head, the feeling brought you out of your self pity.

"If you're quiet and you don't cause me or my crew any trouble... I can almost guarantee your safety." His tone was much softer, yet it still held its authoritative and firm presence. You looked up at him, eyes red with sorrow and fear.

"Almost?" His hand left your head, retreating back to his side as he clenched his gloved fist.

"Truth be told, I'm not sure what's in store for you." Your nerves weren't settled, he might as well have not even given you that small moment of hope.

Kakashi watched as you imagined your fate, assuming your father had gotten mixed into the wrong crowd and now your life was at stake. He couldn't take it anymore, for some reason he felt the need to comfort you.

"...Its late... Get up, girl." He said. You slowly got up, the light in your eyes completely dulled. Kakashi came behind you and roughly grabbed your upper arm, leading you to your bed for the next few nights. Or weeks. Months maybe? Years...?

He jostled you over on the side of the bed and you got on top and curled into a fetal position facing away from him. He walked over to where he threw your blanket then picked it up, crushing it into a large ball shape and throwing it at you on the bed. He walked over to the light switch and flipped it off, the small lamp still keeping the room dimly lit.

Kakashi took one last look at you then shut the heavy door behind him. The last thing you heard was the sound of the lock on the outside being locked and a few footsteps retreating down the hall. You grabbed the blanket and threw it over yourself, crying into the only pillow on the bed.

It took you about half an hour to get all your tears out, huffing exasperated breaths under the security of the lone blanket, only to fall asleep as your exhaustion took over.

_______________________________________________

You opened your eyes and saw the silver haired man on top of you, his heavy weight against your body crushing you against the mostly firm mattress.

"Don't be scared..." He spoke low in your ear, his fingers playing with the drawstring of your pajama shorts. Your breath hitched when his hand moved further south, his finger tracing the seam of your shorts down to your crotch, cupping your heat.

Your heart raced, unsure whether or not to trust him. The way his fingers worked, sliding under the leg holes and caressing the bundle of nerves underneath with his finger tips. You whimpered, unable to move under his presence. You held onto his muscular shoulder, your legs parting on their own.

"Good girl..."

_______________________________________________

Kakashi couldn't sleep, he was worried about this deal. What could this client want with your father? Why was he stuck with holding you hostage and who the hell even was this client in the first place? He decided to walk to the kitchen for a late night snack or even a drink to put him to bed. As soon as he left his bedroom he could hear the sounds of your moans from down the hall. He hurried over, an ear pressed to the large wooden door.

"K-Kakashi..." He heard you sleepily moan his name and his eyes widened. He rushed over to his office, pulling open drawer after drawer, digging for your bedroom key. He found it and ran back to the outside of your room. Sticking the key in and quickly- yet quietly- opening your door.

He watched you stir under the covers, gentle whimpers escaping your lips every so often. His blood set a fire to his loins, a tent pitching in his expensive pants. His gloved palm went to his groin, pressing against the hard on growing underneath.

Maybe this is what he needed? Not a drink, not a snack, but an orgasm. He didn't like the idea of getting off to his prisoner, especially not when he wasn't sure if everyone else was asleep. But who cares? Nobody. Not when it's Kakashi who's the man in charge.

He undid his belt, unzipping his zipper and freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers, fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft. With his other hand, he lowered his mask, then let saliva pool in his mouth before slowly letting it fall onto the head of his cock.

His hand slid up his shaft, gathering the warm spit in the palm of his hand and bringing it back down to his base. He sighed, cock gently throbbing in his grasp. It twitched when he heard you moan again, tossing in your sleep. You rolled over, eyes still shut in a deep sleep, yet facing him in the doorway. He put his mask back over his face, then started to speed up with his movements, hips thrusting into his fist when it reached the base of his cock.

You looked so peaceful, gently whimpering in the lonely room, the sounds of kakashis wet thrusts into his hand breaking the silence. Kakashi's glove was covered in his spit and precum, the now glossy leather only increasing the amount of pleasure brought to him. He slid his hand up, finger running along the head of his sensitive dick. He let out a broken grunt, fingertip circling the slit at the top, playing with the sticky precum.

He wondered what your mouth would feel like, how tight the fit would be if he were all the way down your throat. He watched as you let out a slightly louder moan, soft lips parting while he yearned to be between them. With a few more pumps to his thick member, he reached a level of ecstacy he forgot was possible, ropes of cum spilling down his leather clad hand and down onto his expensive pants, unbothered by the mess.

"Shit, shit..." He grunted softly to himself, his grip tightening on its own as the warm liquid kept flowing out. When he had finally finished he had caught himself against the door, hand still around his cock.

Kakashi tucked himself back into the confines of his boxers, zipping back up his black dress pants and buckling his shiny belt. He closed your door back up and locked it, walking back to his room and sitting down on his bed. He dug through his pocket and held the small key to your door in his hand. He looked at it for a while before shoving it under one of his many pillows and getting undressed for bed.

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igotanidea · 7 months

Text

cold : Dick Grayson x fem!reader

summary/request: fluff sequel (ish) to Quiet, requested by anon :)

***

It was 2 am.

The only thing a normal person do at this hour is sleeping, but clearly Y/N and Dick were not normal.

It’s been a year since they got together after finally being pushed to confess and it seemed like nothing has changed while in fact – it felt like they were living in a completely different world.

Y/N has hanged her vigilante cape and decided to focus on a detective work, while Dick ditched his daytime shift for the benefit of being Nightwing.

Each of the titans went their own way and while the group still hanged out from time to time they had their own lives with Gar staying in the Red, Rachel studying at Gotham University, Tim rocking the Gotham, Conner spending time in Metropolis and Kori continuing on finding herself on Earth.

However.

Some things stay the same.

And that’s why she was awake at that freaking 2 am, just waiting for dick to show up and report being safe and uninjured. Or ready for patching up. After so many years it’s been kind of tradition.

The other thing keeping her awake was the freaking cold she got completely out of the blue and which she needed like a hole in the head. Tossing and turning in the bed, being tired like hell and unable to get any rest was probably even more infuriating than Dick’s dad jokes and his chattiness.

She was about to get out of bed and grab a glass of water just to ease her sore throat when she heard almost inaudible thump on the floor in the kitchen. Y/N quickly jumped out the bed, completely forgetting the slippers and the cold air in the apartment, rushing towards the source of the sound.

“Hey Y/N. You’re out of cheerios’, but I put it on your grocery list. Can I have the rest of the honeycombs at least?” Dick, still in his black and blue Nightwing suit was in the middle of rummaging through her kitchen cupboard .

“Achoooo! Hi …. Dick….Achoo!!”

Dick spun around and frowned at her .

“You good Y/N?” he grabs the glass of water and hands it to her with the most genuine concern and care.

“Yeah…” she sniffled “I’m sick….” Her voice was distorted by the stuffy nose

“Oh, baby I’m so sorry. Come sit down for a bit before you get dizzy. I’ll keep an eye on you?” he offers, his caring nature shining onto the surface like a ray of sunshine immediately warming her up despite the fact that she was still barefoot on the cold floor. He takes a few step forwards picking her up and placing gently on the couch, reaching for the blanket to cover her and fixing her pillow to make her comfortable.

“You done patrolling for tonight?” she looked at him with a puppy eyes, moving over to make some place for him.

“Bruce called it a night some time ago….” He shook his head sheepishly, taking off his domino mask and revealing those pretty blue eyes she loved so much. She could finally see Dick and not just Nightwing. “I was about to get back to Manor for some rest, but wanted to drop by and make sure you’re safe and sound. Or… in this case…” he touched the tip of her nose “whether you need anything or maybe some company….”his voice was filled with love and his gaze was so warm when he watched her like this.

“Both……” Y/N muttered

“I can definitely do that. Besides, nothing relaxes me as much as having you in my arms. How about we watch a movie and have some hot chocolate?” he offered

“It’s 2 am……”

“Yes and we’re both awake, so might as well use the time well. So? What’s it gonna be? Movie and snacks?”

“yes, please…..” she cried out quietly pulling the cover up “I’m cold…..”

“Well, we can’t have that….” Before she can do as much as blink he was up preparing the drink, adding tiny marshmallows and her favourite sprinkles at the top and handing it back to her making sure she wouldn’t burn herself. “Here. Drink it while still warm”

“I missed you…..” she whispered taking a sip and melting from the affection with which he was looking at her.

As much as he tried to cover up for it, even in the half-light of the room he couldn’t hide that little blush creeping on his cheeks. “I missed you more, love.” He cleared his throat before adding some more words “you’re so adorable in your jammies…..”

“Sick and snotty and all red on my face?” she sniffled again, holding a sneeze making a funny face in the process.

“Yeah… always….” He laughed softly “even when you’re sick and gross you’re still the prettiest.”

“Stop it….” She mumbled looking down, flustered at the choice of his choice of words.

“Not a chance, love. Hey…. Do you maybe want to cuddle? I know I said it before, but I can only rest with you next to me….”

“I don’t; want to give you cold….”

“I’m not worried about it….” He took the mug from her hands and put it down on the coffee table out of her reach. “I just need to hold you.” His hands reached for her waist and the back of her head, switching positions slightly so he was now sitting on the couch with his back leaning on the arm, while she ended on the side, her head on his chest, her legs entwined. He fixed the blanket making sure she was covered and warm, pulling her close, caressing her back and brushing her hair, humming softly. His touch was so light and so gentle and comforting she instantly felt like a little baby tucked into bed at night and protected from the pain, fear and other bad feelings. He was here. All was good. All was perfect even if only for that moment.

“Hmmm…” she muttered snuggling closer, listening to his steady, calming heartbeat and just enjoying the little pampering coming from Dick.

“Close your eyes, baby, I’m here. You’re safe in my arms.” His grip on her tightened a little, his strong arms encasing her and being her shield from the world. “No one will get to you now. It’s just us…. You and me….”

“You’re so warm…..” she muttered hiding face in his chest and holding him back, wanting nothing more than to stay like this, even if it meant losing sleep and being sick.

“I’ll keep you safe baby, I promise” he kissed the top of her head tenderly, fixing his pose just to make her more comfortable and her heart just swelled from the love for him almost bursting out of her chest.

“Dick…..”

“Yeah?” he reacted immediately, her quiet voice pulling him out of his reverie when he noticed her lips moving against his chest. “what it is Y/N? You need something?”

“I love you…..” she whispered

“You mean it? You love me?” his breath hitched a bit, his heart skipped a bit. She said it before, but every time she used those 3 words it was like the first time and he couldn’t get enough. He just had to make sure that this wonderful, lovable, amazing girl in his arms loved him.

“Yeah…. It’s not just a sick and tired talk…. I really do….. I love you….” She raised her head from his chest connecting their foreheads in a soft, intimate gesture. Feeling her face so close Dick couldn’t help closing his eyes and searching for her lips with his, noses brushing like an Eskimo. They both stayed still, hung in the moment waiting for the other to make the next move. Finally he broke first, his heart hammering in his chest when his lips brushed against hers for a moment then came away as Dick looked deeply into her eyes, his own full of emotions he couldn’t even come close to naming “Y/N…..” he whispered with a voice thick with affection and love, trying to convey all those unspoken things that they both felt passing between them.

“You’ll get sick….”

“I don’t care…..I’d rather be sick with you in a hospital then healthy and alone.” He had a lump In his throat but his eyes were telling her everything she needed to know – I love you….. “Besides, you don’t leave me any choice, sunshine….” He smirked pressing his lips on hers this time going for a full on kiss, all of his thoughts on her… her….. her…..

She, who instinctively tangled fingers in his hair, whining softly at the feeling of his mouth on hers after so long apart, after the fear of him getting hurt, of losing him of missing him. And apparently he felt quite the same when the sensation of her hands in his mop of hair and her little whimpers send a shiver through his entire body, making him deepen the kiss. His hands traced the side of her face and moved down, brushing her exposed shoulders and arms, resting on her waist, the desire to feel all of her clouding anything else and becoming harder to control. He just wanted her close, wanted to hold her, hug her and never ever let her go.

“Dick….” She pulled back abruptly, switching to a sitting position “I….achoo! achoo!” she turned her face not to sneeze at him, her eyes becoming glassy, her nose puffy.

“Oh, my baby….” He cooed brushing a strand of hair from her forehead and putting it behind her ear smiling lovingly. “You want to cuddle some more?” I don’t want this to be over… he thought to himself.

“I….ah….achoo!” he impact of the sneeze send her back a few inches and he pouted.

“You’re just so adorable….” Dick reached for the box of tissues and handed them to Y/N who pouted even more. “come on baby… smile for me….”

“I hate being sick…..”

“Maybe I’ll just keep convincing you there’s a silver lining to it? How does that sound?”

“Stay?” she whispers

“Always….” He reached for her again, pulling her back to the same position as before, slowly lulling her back to sleep, not letting go for even a second through the rest of the night.

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