#*dodges another tomato*

[peachylynnie]

house edge

word count: 3.5k (making up for my absence) synopsis: in which sylus finally talks to you, alone. contains: pt 3 of blackjack, pt 2 of ace, sylus x fem!reader (non mc), moderately obsessive sylus, LOT'S OF TENSION, the twins appear, alcohol consumption, cursing, weapons, violence (death, mentions of suicide), and references to gambling. a/n: house edge refers to the odds advantage in the house/dealer's favor. haha this totally isn't late haha. i'm back in school and wifi sucks so this took awhile. i still hope you enjoy. reblogs and comments are always appreciated. lmk if you want to be tagged for the rest of the series. tagged: @sprout341 @miffysoo previous chapter | lads masterlist | next chapter

before he can savor that addictive look on your face (he couldn't care less about the cards), sylus' phone rings.

"tch," he clicks his tongue, ready to decline whoever's interrupting his moment with you.

however, his brows furrow upon reading who's calling.

the twins.

sylus curses under his breath as he stands up. he can't reject their call. he's made it clear to them that they should call only when it's important.

"i'll get back to you on my wager soon, gentlemen," he says as he strides towards the door, ignoring sherman and his lackey's frantic attempts at a compromise. "sweetie," he nods at you, brings the phone to his ear, and steps out of the lounge.

as sherman and his lackey lunge for sylus' cards to search for signs of foul play, you frown at the door he just closed.

this guy. he's no ordinary guy. of course, you knew that when your handler stationed you here. he's the head of onychinus for fuck's sake, the infamous person who runs the infamous faction that runs the infamous n109 zone. but seriously? anyone in their right mind would stay after seeing the hands on the table, especially after a whole night of losing. your handler emphasized that despite how much the rumors about him vary, they all point to him being a cunning man, capable of bringing a rival faction to their knees in less than a day. 

it’s not like he’s a gambling addict either. you’ve seen your fair share of them, and they all have this crazed look in their eyes. but no, this fucker gave you the most smug look before tapping the table. it's almost as if he knew he was going to win.

"hey, we need you at the bar," your one-day manager calls for you. "lounge's closing in five minutes."

"yeah," you exhale a deep breath. you need to calm down. it’s bad enough you lost your composure (in front of the head of onychinus of all people). for now you’ll focus on what’s important: no longer the commission but getting out of here. as soon as the last cup is put away, you’ll ring for transportation and book it. 

"goodnight gentlemen," you step away from the table. sherman and his lackey stand up in pursuit. "i would advise against any attempts at violence," you say as politely as you can. "this is a lounge, after all. one that is closing too. have some tact, will you?"

and with that, you walk towards the bar, paying no mind to their insulted faces. if they still decide to follow you, you'll use your evol to the max. you can’t afford to care about anyone who’s within fifty meters anymore. every additional second spent here is jeopardizing your chances of escaping sylus qin. did you see that nod? he's nowhere near done with you.

luckily, you don't hear footsteps chasing you. once you reach the bar, you quickly scan the lounge before collecting the empty glasses. 

all seemed well for a moment. there were little signs of your one-day manager assigning you more tasks. there were many signs of sherman and his lackey waltzing out. most importantly, there was every sign of you finishing your task, meaning you could soon leave without running into a certain silver-haired man.

however, there were no signs of sherman's gun on the table.

♢♢♢♢♢

it's raining by the time sylus leans back against an alleyway, a hand in his pocket and a foot against the wall.

"speak."

"hey boss!" luke and kieran greet simultaneously through the phone.

"you'll never guess what we found out," the older chirps.

"idiot, he's the one who sent us here," the younger reminds.

"what did you just call me?!"

"cut to the chase," sylus snaps. "i'm in a hurry right now." he is very much in a hurry right now, damn it. every additional second spent here is jeopardizing his chances of seizing you, having you. he needs to get back to the lounge as soon as possible. he needs to see you, talk to you, squeeze out of you that enticing look you had on your face less than five minutes ago.

"woah there, boss. is everything okay? you sound tense," luke asks.

sylus sighs, pinching his nose bridge. "yes, everything is fine, luke. thanks for asking." he glances at the rain-covered window across from him to see if you're still at the table. he frowns when he doesn't see you. "did you confirm what i asked you to?"

"yes," kieran answers, earning a grumble from his twin about his stolen thunder. "there are no authentic protocores here at sherman's warehouse. actually, there are no protocores here at all."

"seems like he was trying to strike us a deal with nothing," luke pipes in.

"how disappointing," sylus chuckles drily. "not surprising, though."

"should we go after him, boss?" the twins excitedly suggest at the same time.

"no need," sylus peels himself off the wall and moves over to the window for a better view. "i'll take care of him myself," he assures as he wipes the glass. he's delighted to find you at the bar drying a glass while sherman and his lackey make their way towards the exit, which leads right into the alleyway he's in. "in fact, i'll take care of him right now."

and with that, he hangs up the call. right on cue, sherman and his lackey step out of the lounge, their faces twisted with frustration from all the losses they experienced tonight. however, their faces immediately morph into fear upon seeing the head of onychinus.

"gentlemen," sylus smirks as he pockets his phone. "i just heard something very interesting."

in a blink of an eye, bloody, inky wisps wrap around the two men's necks and slam them into the wall. the very wall the feared man was leaning on moments ago. how unfortunate.

"w-wait," sherman chokes out. "let's t-talk about t-this."

"what could there possibly be to talk about, sherman?" sylus mocks with crossed arms. "surely not the fact that you tried to deal me not even fake protocores but none at all?"

one would find it difficult to determine if the two men were going pale from the lack of air or the abundance of fear. perhaps both. how unfortunate.

"no matter," sylus shakes his head. "let's talk about my wager instead, shall we?"

the air shifts as his evol tightens around sherman and his lackey's necks. the crimson and ivory tendrils rampage faster and faster, signaling for a brutal execution to come, a signature move every bastard in the n109 zone is aware of. however, the dreaded crushing and disintegration of flesh never comes. seizing this chance, sherman desperately searches for something in his pocket. 

“looking for this?” 

his eyes widen upon seeing his gun in sylus’ hand. 

nobody, not a single one of you, noticed him swipe the gun before leaving. 

“now, about my wager,” sylus cocks the gun. “how about your lives?” he aims at the drenched forehead of its owner. “surely it’s the least both of you can do after trying to trick me.” he places a finger on the trigger. “again.”

before sherman can open his pathetic mouth, sylus pulls the trigger, a glorious bang ringing through the rainy night sky. he doesn’t give the lackey a chance to mourn. instead, he gives him the same fate as his employer: a bullet lodged deep into his skull. not a single one of them was worth his evol. 

wiping the blood off his cheek, sylus tuts. “felled by your own gun.” he releases his evol. “how unfortunate.” 

after chucking the gun on the floor, he approaches the entrance of the lounge. he doesn’t have time to clean up the corpses. he’ll just escort you out another way (yes, this man plans to accompany you wherever you go after tonight). unable to hide his frenzied smile, he grips the door handle and steps in. 

♢♢♢♢♢

the brief pitter-patter of rain let in by the door should’ve been your first sign to hightail it out of here. the silver-haired man who’s currently seated at the bar with an elbow planted should’ve been your second. the red hungry eyes trailing over your figure most definitely should’ve been your third. 

but you’re too busy drying the glasses with your back turned. big mistake. 

“a glass of gin fizz, please.”

you still.

“make that two, actually,” he adds. 

you don’t turn around. you don’t dare to. instead, you slowly grab the last glass, prepared to put it away. 

“i’m afraid the lounge is closed, mr. sylus,” you counter gracefully. 

the man chuckles, leaning back in the stool. “surely this lounge can make an exception for the head of onychinus.”

“of course!” your manager dashes out of the employees' room, eager to earn the lounge additional funds. “what are you doing?!” she scolds you with what she thinks is your name. you’re thankful you have an alias tonight because the idea of sylus knowing your identity turns your stomach, which you’re sure is what he’s trying to do by ordering two glasses past closing time. “pour him a glass of gin fizz!” she instructs and dashes back into the employees’ room. you resist the urge to curse when you hear the employees’ entrance lock, meaning she clocked out for the night, meaning it was just you and sylus. couldn’t she have just made the drinks herself if she wanted the additional funds that badly?

exhaling deeply, you use the glass in your hand to scoop up some ice. no point in resisting. last thing you want is for your handler to nag you for not cooperating with the client’s staff, especially when you already gave up on the commission. might as well just get this over with.

“i wouldn’t scoop the ice first if i were you, sweetie,” sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. “it’ll dilute the alcohol.”

you don’t say anything. you just grab a bottle of gin and pour it into a jigger. your customer scoffs. 

“are you ignoring me, sweetie?”

you pour the gin into a shaker and squeeze some lemon juice. 

“if you’re upset about something, then you should tell me.”

you take out the simple syrup from the fridge and pour it into the jigger.

“how about this?” he starts. 

you add the syrup to the shaker along with three ice cubes. 

“i ask you a question, and you ask me a question.” 

you equip the shaker with its strainer and start shaking it violently. 

“aren’t you curious as to how i won?” 

you freeze. only now do you feel the chill of the liquor from the shaker. 

“go ahead, sweetie,” sylus coaxes, thrilled to finally have your attention. “ask. i know you want to. your face back there said it all.”

placing the shaker down, you open its lid, pour its contents into the ice-filled glass, add a generous amount of soda water, turn around, and slam the glass in front of sylus. 

that’ll shut him up for a minute or two. 

but it takes everything in you not to gasp when you look up from the glass. 

since when was it raining outside? he’s seated with his shiny, silvery hair messily slicked back, beads of water slowly dripping down his face and neck, his drenched button-up suit clinging onto his chest and forearms for dear life, and his ruby-streaked blazer not only hanging from his broad shoulders but also adding to the puddles forming beneath the stool.

you make a mental note to inform your handler that the head of onychinus is NOT some old, short man with a face only a mother could love, like some of the rumors say. 

enjoying your gaze on him, sylus tilts his head teasingly. “well?”

you can’t back down. it sounds like he won’t either until you talk to him. pinning your hands on the counter, you lean in. “why did you hit? you knew your chances were low, even after looking at my cards.” 

he doesn’t answer immediately. it’s your turn to expect something from him, want something from him. it’s the least you could do after driving him in circles the whole night. besides, he wants a closer look at your face; commit it to memory in case you even think about leaving without compensating him for the absolute torture you put him through. 

after taking a slow sip from the glass, sylus asks, “ever heard of gambling addicts, sweetie?”

you squint at him. “yes, but you aren’t one.” 

“oh,” he quirks a brow. “so you know of me?” 

“everyone in the n109 zone knows who you are, mr. sylus.”

“yes, but you aren’t from the n109 zone, miss dealer.” 

you tense. although the shift in your shoulders was incredibly tiny, it was taken hostage by his eyes. he’s impressed by how controlled your reactions are. 

but now it's his turn to ask.

standing up from his stool, sylus leans in dangerously close and whispers, “what brings you to the n109 zone, sweetie?”

you don’t answer. but you don’t back away either. sylus likes that. he likes what’s happening right now. when was the last time he felt this ecstatic from a conversation? even though your answers were cryptic, he was able to conclude that you come from a place or are in a position where his existence is made aware, and probably in certain detail too, given your insistence on him not being a gambling addict. when was the last time he had a gin fizz that tasted this good? he’s delighted the serving he had at the previous table was also made by you (how does this psycho know that). and most importantly, when was the last time he felt threatened? something is unsettling about the way you won every single game tonight, with a look of indifference too. 

by chance, are you an evolver?

“i assure you, i am from here, mr. sylus,” you answer with a small smile. it doesn't reach your eyes. removing your hands from the counter (he frowns when you do), you turn around to make another glass. hopefully his previous request for two will serve as a distraction. “you’re welcome to look into my name, but i’m sure the head of onychinus has better things to do than to worry about some dealer.” 

sylus laughs. he actually laughs. although it isn’t loud, the intervals as to which his rich voice seeps through are enough to convey that your lie hasn’t convinced him. “sweetie,” he shakes his head endearingly and sits down. “because i am the head of onychinus, everything and everyone in the n109 zone is subjected to my worrying, including intruders who use fake names.” 

you spin back around, your eyes full of alarm. how does he know about your alias? no, how does he even know you’re not from here? from the beginning, that’s what he’s been insisting on. there’s no way someone as busy as him could know about every single person residing in the n109 zone. at least, that’s what your handler said (oh how wrong she was). 

“do you truly expect me to believe that is your name?” sylus repeats your alias with scorn. it’s an injustice to your frame. “it doesn’t suit you. you need to pick better names, sweetie.

what the fuck. he’s convinced you’re an intruder because your alias doesn’t suit you?! this guy. this guy’s not sane. that’s it. now you really need to get out of here. glaring at him, you snatch his glass and dump its contents down the drain. damn it, you wasted too much time. he got you. he got you good. he never intended to uphold his “a question for a question” deal in the first place, given his bullshit answer about gambling addicts. 

“i’m afraid i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie through gritted teeth. “now excuse me, mr. sylus. the lounge was supposed to close fifteen minutes ago.” 

sylus licks his lips. he can almost taste the frustration in your face and voice. it’s intoxicating. that’s the second time he’s forced a reaction out of you. how much more until you beg him to stop? 

“of course, miss dealer,” he concedes mockingly. "allow me to escort you out.”

“that won’t be necessary,” you hiss. “my car is right around the alleyway.” 

“still,” he blocks you from exiting the bar. “it’s dark and raining outside. it’s the least i could do to pay for the drink.” 

“money will do,” you frown. 

“i’m afraid i’m all out, sweetie,” he smiles. “you did quite the number on me, after all.” 

you scoff. not only is his smile shameless, but so is his lie. you may not be from here, but you know damn well it’s going to take an eternity of games to even leave a dent in the head of onychinus’ bank account. you glance at the clock. you should have called for transportation by now. technically, you still can, but you need to be outside. and it doesn’t look like he’ll let you go anytime soon unless you accept his offer. 

“you can walk me to the alleyway,” you sigh. 

“not to your car?”

you scowl at him. don’t push it. 

sylus chuckles and steps aside. when you exit the bar with a huff, he can’t help but think you look like a cat, a cute little one who scratches when agitated. perhaps kitten will be what he calls you next. 

after turning off the lights, you step out of the lounge. only to freeze in your tracks.

corpses.

corpses of the two people involved in your commission. narrowing your eyes, you notice a bullet wound in each of their foreheads. you scan the ground, searching for any traces of the murderer. however, your blood runs cold when something catches your eye. sherman’s gun. you crouch to pick it up. did he kill himself? no, that doesn’t explain why his lackey has the same wound. 

“ah,” sylus interrupts your thoughts. “i forgot to escort you out the other way. my apologies, kitten.”

he knows violence doesn’t faze you as it normally would for any other outsider. still, he didn’t want you to see this kind of violence since there’s a substantial difference between witnessing an arm get crushed and witnessing the glassy eyes of lifeless bodies. 

though, he supposes he worried for nothing since you’re being eerily quiet with your eyes fixated on the gun. 

skillfully, you unload the gun. no bullets left. you exhale deeply. from the looks of it, sylus killed them since he knew the bodies would be here. furthermore, he used sherman’s gun, which initially only had two bullets, given the lack of bullet marks in the alleyway. you just happened to miss the sound of gunfire since you were too occupied. but if that’s the case, that means sherman and his lackey died quite the unfortunate death where the former’s gun was their undoing and no one could’ve heard them, which means… your evol. it did its job. too good of a job. 

“at least the commission is complete,” you murmur. 

sylus furrows his brow. “you, what did you just say?”

for a moment, all that is heard is the downpour of rain and the distant rumbling of thunder. 

you pull out your phone and press a contact. “delilah, open it now.” 

“what?”

you sprint down the alleyway, not bothering to acknowledge his confusion. 

sylus immediately chases after you, his legs moving like never before. shit, you completely took him by surprise. what was that phone call? no, what did you mean by a completed commission? and why do you know how to unload a gun? clenching his jaw, he prepares to teleport to the end of the alleyway, determined to intercept you. he’ll be damned if he lets you escape. 

although he blinks to the end of the alleyway, you make a sharp turn, evading his outstretched arm. 

“tch,” sylus clicks his tongue before continuing his pursuit. however, you make another turn around the corner, giving you three seconds out of his sight. 

by the time sylus turns around the corner, you’re gone. not a single trace of you left behind. but what infuriates him more is that this is a dead end. not a single way out but the way he got here. he slams a fist in the wall, ignoring the blood that seeps down and the deep cracks in the bricks. using his free hand, sylus pulls out his phone and dials his most recent contact. 

“luke. kieran. get me access to the cameras surrounding this lounge,” he spits the lounge’s name. “now.” 

♢♢♢♢♢

you breathe rapidly as you fall onto the floor, your throat burning and your ears ringing. you’ve never run so fast in your life. 

“welcome back,” a smooth voice says your name. your actual name. 

you look up to face your means of transportation, delilah. 

“what the— did it rain over there?” an acute voice asks. 

stella, your handler enters your vision. 

both of them reach out a hand for you to take. 

you begrudgingly accept and swiftly walk towards the door, eager to give yourself a fucking break after all that happened today. 

“what’s the rush?” delilah asks with a yawn. “don’t tell me you failed the commission—"

"how was your first time in the n109 zone?” stella interjects, warning delilah with her eyes. 

you pause before turning the knob. 

“never send me there again.”

[darby-rowe]

feeling better tonight. not exactly living on top of the world, but i spent some much needed time with my parents and i'm slowly crawling out of the void. plus, i realized that i need to write in order to cling onto some sort of normalcy in my life.

gonna write something small tonight. it wont be a masterpiece, but it'll be somethin'.

and uh... yeah!

[incorrectbatfam]

Can we get the batfam working together on a cooking show?

[American cooking show]

Bruce: Alright, places everyone. Remember the game plan. We are gonna make this damn soup if it's the last thing we do.

*clock starts*

Dick: *sprints through the aisles with a rocket-powered cart*

Helena: *infiltrates the walk-in fridge with a laser pen*

Cass: *digs a fire pit with her bare hands*

Selina: *steals someone's spice rack*

Tim: *uses a GPS to track down carrots*

Duke: *scales a tower to rescue the onion trapped at the top*

Damian: *sets a snare trap for the tomatoes*

Steph: *has a Mexican standoff with the croutons*

Harper: *takes a chainsaw to a giant frozen stock cube*

Kate: *dodges artillery fire while rolling a cheese wheel*

Luke: *swims across a pond to get spoons*

Carrie: *launches a bowl across the station*

Barbara: Guys, I solved the mystery ingredient! It's chocolate!

Jason: *tackles another contestant*

Bette: *captures the other team's flag*

Bruce: Almost there! We just need garlic!

Cullen: *screams*

[meanwhile, on a British cooking show]

Alfred: *calmly puts cookies in the oven*

[blitzynatural]

“What should I call you?” 

Tommy whips his head around in confusion, nearly dropping the knife he was holding to cut the salad with. They had been working in a comfortable silence, Evan stirring the pasta sauce while Tommy was working on the salad inside Evan's loft. One month of dating and Tommy knows that he is already in so deep. 

“I'm Tommy”, he deadpans, grinning as he goes back to cut the salad head. “Tommy Kinard, 39, firefighter pilot at 217 and boyfriend of one Evan Buckley. Did you hit your head on your shift today and forget?” 

Evan chucks something at him and Tommy snorts at the lone uncooked penne pasta that just about missed his head and lands next to the cutting board. 

“I know who you are, silly.” 

Tommy doesn't even have to look back to know that Evan is ducking his head and is wearing the most goofiest smile ever with a tint of red painting his face so adorably. He also knows that if he were to turn around and see this display, the food would be soon forgotten, so he remains strong where he stands and proceeds with the salad, scooping what he has cut up and dropping it into a bowl. 

“I am talking about pet names. What should I call you?” 

“Oh, we're that couple, huh”, Tommy muses and reaches for the tomatoes next. 

He can feel Evan's presence right behind his back in the next moment and ignores the shivers that erupts his skin when he feels his breath hitting his neck. A touch of lips ghosts over his skin there. “Yeah. We are that couple”, Evan decides, and Tommy is not one to object. Nor does he have much of a chance to respond when a spoon of sauce is being presented to him, hovering right in front of his lips. “How's this?” 

Tommy leans forward to taste the sauce and hums in  appreciation. “Mmh. Hot.” 

“The sauce, Tommy.”

“Also hot.”

He doesn't even try to dodge away from the pinch landing on his ass and chuckles. “It's delicious, Evan.” 

“So a pet name.” 

It's never a dull moment to try to catch up on the various topics being presented to him left and right whenever he's around Evan. 

“You've been thinking about this pretty hard.” 

“Amongst other things. Can I call you snookums? Pookie-Bear? Cuddlebug?” 

“Are you asking for one answer or for all three?” Tommy cringes at the names, but humors Evan anyway. 

“How about honey?” 

“I do like honey.” 

“How about baby? Babe? Darling?” 

With the tomatoes finally being sliced, Tommy dumps them into the salad bowl and wipes his hands over his apron as he finally turns to give his boyfriend his full attention.  

“Call me what comes to mind, Sweetheart.” Not being able to help himself now, he reaches out his hands to tug his boyfriend closer by the strings of his apron. It is absolutely worth it to see Evan's face flush red. 

“See, you do that so smoothly. A-and I can't call you whatever comes to mind out in public. I'd be kicked out.” 

"That so?” Tommy hums and lifts a hand to cup Evan's jaw, only to laugh when Evan whips away his head in protest. 

“You have tomato hands.” 

“And you have saucy lips. Gonna get another taste.” He grins and leans forward to pepper Evan's face with kisses until he places an obnoxiously loud kiss right on his lips and releases the strings of his apron to let Evan go back to cooking.

“Don't let the sauce burn, babe.” 

“You are the worst.” 

“I'm what you signed up for.” 

“Wouldn't change that for anything”, Evan laughs. They go back to focusing on the cooking. Tommy gets to hear a handful of uncensored names echoing through the loft by the end of the night. 

Read on ao3

[heartfullofleeches]

Loser Reader and Melan, my Girlfailer Jester Gal Yan. Loser Reader could give less of a damn about Melan's clumsiness or the bodies that pile up as a result of her blunders and doing what she must to keep her biggest fan around. Their brain kinda short circuits seeing this tall ass jester monster girl and as the established monster fucker in my stories, Loser Reader will let Melan do whatever she pleases as long as she answers the age old question for them.

-

"I-I'm really really sorry about your friend! I was just doing knife practice again and I saw you both walk by and I started to panic and the blade just slipped from my hands and-"

As the freakishly tall woman rambles on, your eyes briefly flicker from the bells dangling from her collar down to the lifeless body of your coworker. Blood drains from hole in his back roughly the length and width of a small throwing dagger seeping the lining of your sneakers. It has to be the saddest part of this ordeal - you really needed those shoes for work tomorrow.

You're more worried about this odd woman than him. It's his own fault for spending the gas money you gave him on cigarettes again. If she keeps on apologizing without paying to take a breath, you'll have two dead bodies to deal with. Does she even need to breathe? She doesn't exactly look all that human now that you've gotten a better look at her.... Some type of clown....or jester. It's probably nothing, but her appearance coupled with her height leads you to believe otherwise. Did you genuinely happen to stumble across a jester girl throwing daggers at a wall past midnight? Your thoughts begin to wander away as you stand there. A process some unfamiliar with your way of being might find troubling if they happen to catch ear of what your mind spews out.

"Do they....honk?..."

In the midst of tripping over her own words, the sudden slip of your tongue nearly sends the woman tumbling over oversized ends of her sleeves. She stands upright, balancing her weight on trembling legs as she mutters a meek. "Does..what honk?"

Crap, did you say that outloud? "Hm? Oh, nothing... I was just thinking of some thing I heard about clowns. I can see you're more of a jester, but that falls under the same number right?"

The woman stares down at her shoes. You think so, anyway - it's hard to tell where she's looking with her hat blocking fourty percent of her face. "I...I guess? If you're talking about my nose then uh it does... sometimes"

"I was talking about your chest."

You could've sworn she popped a blood vessel from how her pale face turned tomato red.

"You.... HUH?"

You raise your hands in defense, however your guilt ends there. "Sorry! My brain has a mind of its own. If it makes you feel better, I say dumb shit all the time. If it clears up my mistake entirely, you were pretty sharp with that knife throwing."

The blush of her face dims. Less fiery and more...warm. "You .. you really think so?"

"Yeah. You could probably even avoid casualties if you lift that hat off your eyes.... Listen, I really don't want to be around when people find this guy and I'm not a snitch either so you don't have to worry about me ratting on you. He's your problem now. See y'all!"

Squeezing past the jester, you sprint off into the direction of your apartment - meticulously dodging the glow of street lifes to keep your bloody shoe prints unnoticed till dawn. Alone in the alleyway, Melan reflects on the events that just occurred. She... just killed someone. That alone should terrified her, but every thought in her mind cycles back to you. You're strange. A bit perverse, but you spoke your mind about her.. Was everything you said to her true too?

Dragging the body behind a dumpster, Melan wishes that just maybe you'd become another one of her problems.

One that would follow her through her improvement as a performer.

[jcollinswrites]

I just can't stop smiling at Narmer's manner. When he was extremely direct about whether we were interested in him or not, my poor male MC was about to throw himself in the water XD

I just love the fact that Narmer is straightforward about things, it makes my shy MC's life so much easier. Sure, he turns red like a tomato but it makes it easier to avoid paranoia.

I've lost count of how many times I've been frustrated with a RO because he just wasn't direct about his feelings. Like, man, it's not that hard. Just tell me if you're interested or not. Luckily with Narmer I don't run that risk

And I also don't intend to judge his relationship with his wife or anything like that. I just don't like to judge a person based only on part of a conversation I heard and I don't even know the whole context. So suffering on my route? I'll be dodging as much as I can Imao.

Also, from what I understand, he is not officially married to his supposed wife, or is he? Considering that apparently no one knows about this woman except those closest to him or maybe Ahmose if he talks about his mother. I confess that I was a little confused in this part but it's probably because English isn't my first language and sometimes my mind just freezes haha. So I didn't understand if he wasn't officially married or the MC simply didn't know this information.

If that were the case, would we be able to marry him or would we be something like a concubine or something?

If he wasn't, and it was possible to marry him, what would your reaction be if the MC left a ring in your room surrounded by flowers with a little card:

Will you marry me?

( ) Absolutely

( ) Of course

( ) Yes

( ) No (Optional)

While hiding behind the door watching your reaction?

⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

Anyway, I love your IF please never stop with it 🥹💕 I've never smiled as much with a character as I am smiling right now! I can't wait for the next update. As far as I remember, this is the one where we blocked the route, right? Please Narmer, give me more kisses on the forehead and your hand in marriage 🥹🫴

(I got a little carried away and it got bigger than it should have, sorry XD)

Yes, Narmer wanted to be very straightforward in letting the MC know that he is not uninterested, but it's going to be hard to be in any sort of relationship with him for many reasons. So he (and the partner) are either all in, or no deal.

The wife business was probably confusing because I didn't write in detail yet about the king's marriage rights. This will be explained a bit more in Narmer's route, so things will get clearer later if you choose his romance.

The king is the only person in the country who can have more than one spouse. Narmer is officially married to Nefru, but being married to the king doesn't automatically make someone a queen consort. The king has to give out that title. So Nefru is a consort, but she is not the main consort, and was not given any title, nor does he go anywhere with her in public, so that's why most people don't know about her. Simply for being married to the king, her official rank is princess.

Narmer could technically marry anyone else he wishes without getting a divorce. He can also make anyone else his queen consort. It's his right. (for a male MC, Narmer will figure out another title)

It will be possible to marry him, if you manage to reach at least a neutral ending with him. In the scenario you mentioned, Narmer would smile and say, "Let's not get the word out that you were the one who asked me and not the other way around, but... yes, I've been thinking about it too."

Thanks for the sweet message 🥰 The romance lock-in choice will come in the next public update (probably in a few weeks I think), so not long to wait now :)))

[gojo-mochi]

Content: Fem!Reader Virgin!Reader. Escort!Zoro. Blood Play, Biting (Lots of Biting), Zoro being cat-like, Virgin deflowering, Dacryphilia, P/V, Oral (Fem Receiving) ,Creampie, Bruising and Marking.

A/N: Cough,,,,, Anyway… Ahah First part of the event!! Woo!! *dodging Tomatoes* IM SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG. I PROMMY ILL TRY TO BE BETTER

Word Count:10k

"There's no off switch on a Tiger…"

You nervously paced around the room as you dialed the number on your phone. You just went with your gut instinct and chose the guy at the top of the list. It's not like you didn’t skim through the whole booklet; this ‘Zoro’ guy just looked the most appealing to you. The light green hair and the scowl etched on his handsome face were something that you couldn’t get out of your head. His description doesn’t seem that bad either… I mean, they did say that he has a “Soft heart on the inside,” so surely that means he’s not a bad guy, right?

You look at your phone and heave out a shaky sigh as you press the call button, holding it up to your ear as it rings. 

Beeeeeep…

Beeeeeep..

…Click

“...Hello? What ya want?” 

A tired and gruff-sounding voice spoke through the other line. He gave out a yawn when you paused in your reply with another; “Hello? You there?” Your face was already heating up from embarrassment, “Ye-yes, I’m here! Sorry, it seems like I woke you up…” You paced faster around the room, trying to calm down the shakiness in your voice. He lets out another yawn, grumbling out a “Tis fine… so what did ya want?” 

You almost tripped on your feet as you trip over your words on the phone, “Well, I-uh-saw your ads in this booklet, Zoro, right? Anyway, I wanted to see if you were free tonight to….um..”

“To fuck you, yeah? That's the ad you saw, right?” He finished your sentence for you, with the sound of rustling in the background, indicating that he had gotten up from wherever he was sleeping. “Yeah, I’m free. Which hotel are you at? Oh, and give me the room number too.” Your heart was beating rapidly now, it was all happening so fast, the guy was just so casually saying yes to sleeping with you without any details.

“Wa-wait, I have something to say first-” You sucked in a breath, “I-I’m still a virgin so-it would be nice if you were gentle with me..?” You trail off at the end, unsure of what else to say or add, the voice on the other line went quiet for a bit, you thought that the call got disconnected and went to check when you heard a soft snort and a cough. Like the man was trying to hide the fact that he was laughing. You huff out in displeasure, “Sorry, sorry, tis just was you were really cute with the way you were asking me.” 

You chewed on your bottom lips as your chest started to pound again, but this time for a different reason. The man sounded a lot nicer than before, with the sleepiness waving away from his voice. “I’m staying at the Thousand Sunny Hotel and room 257, also is there anything else I need to do to…prepare at all?” You heard a silent pause again with the same snort as before,but this time the man did not care to hide that he was outright chuckling at your question. “Wow… you really are a virgin, huh? Thought you were fooling me, to be honest.” 

You gasped, shocked that he would think you were lying about this. “Don’t worry, girlie, I’ll take care of you.” You had no reply to that, not with the way your stomach was tying itself in knots as his voice seemed to go down an octave deeper and the nickname sent pangs of heat near your core as well. “I’ll be there in about 20 minutes. Be a good girl and wait for me, yeah?” You nod at his question before remembering that you’re on the phone and he can’t see you. “Yea-yeah! I’ll be good!” You cringe internally at how you replied so obediently back. He ends the call with another chuckle, softer this time, you flopped down on the bed. Staring at your phone screen, replaying what just happened in your head over and over again. 

‘Holy shit, I’m actually doing this, I’m going to have sex with someone I don’t even know.” You were a mixture of nerves and excitement, rolling on the bed, giggling like a schoolgirl over how hot the guy sounded over the line. There was his picture on the booklet, but attaching it to his voice too? Oh, man, it just made him instantly ten times hotter in your mind. You look at the clock, ticking down the time until your escort comes. You were too excited to just lay in bed until he arrived. Though you did stop in your tracks when his voice rang in your head, “Be a good girl…”

You weren’t even sure what that meant… how do you be a ‘good girl’ for him? Stay and wait on the bed until he comes? Try to doll up somehow? Your mind starts to wander downward into more raunchy ideas. The idea of him walking in on you preparing yourself open with your fingers made your legs start to shake. You jumped back down on the bed and screamed into the pillow, emotions too high and foreign for you to fully express. You push your face into the pillow for a while, waiting for your racing heartbeat to fully calm down, only to shoot up again once you see that 15 minutes have passed on the clock sitting right on the nightstand. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, you grabbed the pillow you were face planting in and clutched it close to your chest. Eagerly looking at the door with wide eyes, you squeezed the pillow to your thumping chest as you imagined the sound of a ticking clock in your head. Slowly counting down until your man comes knocking on your door. Time seems to crawl slowly toward you, moving at a snail’s pace. 

.

.

.

Ok, you were too scared to look at the clock before, but you felt like a lot of time had passed and there was still no sign of Zoro. You finally decide to check your phone in case you somehow missed any notifications, you scroll through your messages only to find some messages from the friend that recommended this service. 

Bestie: Heyyyyy, how's it going? You get dicked down yet? 👀

You: No, he told me he was coming over like 30 minutes ago I think…

Bestie: Oh?  Maybe he’s just stuck in traffic or something.

You: I hope so…

You chewed on your bottom lips as you checked the time again, sighing out, you went to scroll on various apps, hoping to keep your mind occupied. You got lost in the void that is social media apps for quite a while, only barely snapping out of it once you scrolled past the 40th cat video on tiktok. You took another look at the time, now it has been close to an hour passing since your call with Zoro.

Hot tears began to drip down on your face from the embarrassment you started feeling. ‘He must think this is so funny…’ You even started to doubt if this whole escort service was even real in the first place, did your friend set you up? You wipe away your tears with a small sniffle, sensing anger slowly boiling up in the pits of your stomach, replacing the embarrassment and sadness. You dial the number once again to give Zoro a piece of your mind. 

The dial tone only rings once before Zoro's gruff voice once again enters your ear. “Hey-” “What the fuck is wrong with you!” You screamed into the phone, cutting him off before he could spew any bullshit excuse to you. You tried hard not to make your voice wobble, forcing it to be steady with all the tears still streaming down your face. “Oy-What’s the hell your problem, woman?” Zoro sounded annoyed, which made you even more angry. “What's your problem?! Did you think it was funny to do this kind of shit?” Your voice cracked at the end, you barely heard Zoro’s reply as you broke into sniffles and choked sobs. “Wh-what the hell are you on about?” He growled out, only to mutter a soft “Shit..” when you whimpered at the harsh tone.

“Listen, just tell me what’s wrong alright? I can’t help ya, if all you do is cry. Shit, I'd rather just have you yelling at me again.” His voice takes on a more soothing tone to try to calm you down. You hated how it was instantly working on you. You wipe away at the snot and tears on your face, wincing at the smeared makeup on your sleeves now. “Just drop the act already. It's been over an hour and you’re not coming, I know that-” “It's been over an hour?! Fuck, if they didn’t change the stupid street names, I would had been there by now.” Zoro grumbled some more obscenities into the phone as you heard his pace quicken. 

The gears in your mind grinded to a halt for a moment, listening to Zoro curse out once more; “Damn it, how many streets are named after this Roger guy anyway?” He was still walking around on Gol D Roger’s Street? You stayed silent to listen some more and quickly gathered that this guy was really bad at directions, considering he somehow ended at the same street sign again for the fifth time. You giggled, causing Zoro’s attention to turn on you. “You’re laughing now? God, women are so weird sometimes... So, is everything ok now?” 

You giggled some more and snorted at his last comment. “Yeah, I think I know what happened now, you’re lost aren’t you?” The pregnant pause on the other end was the only answer you needed to start laughing out right. “It's not my fault that the stupid construction workers keep changing where they post the damn street sign!” You heard the sound of a metal pang and another growl. Zoro was probably kicking the poor street sign. You stopped your laughing fit to help the poor street sign from getting even more abused.

“I thought you ghosted me or something to be honest…” You whispered, emotions still stirring inside your stomach. Your honesty stunlocked Zoro for a bit, you were on the verge of apologizing when his voice came out in a whisper too. “Don’t apologize, I should have called you and told you I was coming late, I can admit that was my fault at least.” “Why didn’t you?” You hugged your knees close to your chest, rocking on your heels as you strained to hear Zoro’s voice now that he was speaking quietly. “...I didn’t think of it until now, shit, listen I understand if you want to pick someone else now so-” “No!” 

Your cheeks heated up at how fast you said that, clearing your throat you spoke again; “I-I mean, it would be a waste for both of us, since you've been walking around for an hour, I don’t mind still spending the night with you.” Now it was Zoro’s turn to chuckle; “Alright, since you want me that badly.” You almost regret sticking with him now, almost. “I just need to find out where the hotel is from here and I promise this time, I’ll be there soon, ok girlie?” You couldn't help but smile at the nickname he gave you.

“How about I try to lead you to the hotel, so you won’t get lost again?” You ignored his words stating that he wasn’t lost. “I know that Roger’s Street isn’t that far from the hotel, I think I know the way to get here from there.” Zoro lets out an affirmative grunt waiting for your directions. You spent the next 20 minutes trying to lead this dense meat head to the hotel. When you told him to take a right and he said that the right takes him to a wall, you argued that he took a left not a right like you said. 

This happened for quite a while until he finally saw the bright neon Lion Head that the hotel had on top of its sign. You wanted to stay in the call to make extra sure that he wouldn’t get lost on the way up to your room to be honest but Zoro argued back that he was fine now. You weren’t quite sure you believed that after the ordeal you went through. The phone call ends and your phone screen fades to black, giving you the first look at yourself in a while. 

Your makeup was smeared all over your face, lipstick half gone, mascara running black streaks down your face, not to mention your red nose and puffy eyes completing this whole messy look.  You rolled off the bed cursing to yourself. Zoro was coming up to your room soon and you looked like a fucking wreck. You silently prayed that he would somehow get lost on his way up to your floor somehow as you entered the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and rubbing harshly at your skin. 

You let out a squeaked and jumped when you heard banging at the door. ‘Maybe it's room service or the hotel staff…?’ You hoped it was, grabbing a towel and wiping away whatever makeup you can on it, the poor towel could only do so much though. You tentatively walked over to the door and looked through the peephole to find a burly green-haired man on the other side, his arms were crossed and you didn’t know if he was intentionally flexing or not because the veins in his forearms and biceps looked delicious.

You sucked in a nervous breath as you unlocked the door, opening it just a bit to peek at Zoro, saying a quiet “Hello…” you stepped back as he approached the doorway, hiding half of your face in the towel. Zoro was very tall and very very buff, only wearing a white tank top that was straining to keep his pecs covered and black joggers which you can faintly see his dick outline in. He fully stepped inside the room and the door behind him shut closed with a click. He locked the door himself, before turning away to stare down at you with a lopsided grin. 

You bunch up the towel more, hiding your face in the fluffy stained cotton. Zoro took one step towards you, making you almost bump into his chest. “I come all this way and you won’t even show me your cute face, girlie? I feel wounded.” He emphasizes the last word by clutching a fist over his heart with a mocking hurt expression. The tips of your ears go red at his teasing, you try to push him away with a hand but he didn’t even budge when you tried a second push with all of strength. 

Your hand pressed firmly on his left pec, you grunt seeing how he doesn’t even feel your weak attempt at shoving. You, however, felt a lot, hand squeezing lightly on Zoro’s pec, since he wasn’t actively flexing, it was not quite squishy but not firm either. You start to knead on it like a curious kitten for an unknown amount of time only broken out of your spell when Zoro grabbed both of your wrists. You didn’t even realize that your second hand also joined in the fun some time ago.

“Is this what you really gonna pay me for all night?” Zoro tilts his head at you with a bigger smirk plastered on his handsome face this time. You just now noticed that he really does have a scar going over his left eye. Zoro continues on as your voice is stuck in your throat. “Thought you were gonna have me take your virginity tonight, girlie? Hmm? Gonna let me be your first fuck and spread that cunt of yours with my cock right?” His crude words made you gape like a fish out of water.

He pulls your wrist up to his neckline. “Hold on to me, ok sweetheart?” Your mind was already melting from touching him and now he changed nicknames on you too. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck. “Good girl, good listener. I like that.” He purred leaning in near your ear as his arms hoisted up your legs, instantly wrapping around his waist on instinct. He goes to hold your ass with one hand, giving it a good slap making you squeak out his name, while his other arm holds your back. 

He lifted you with such ease, swiftly carrying you to the edge of the bed where he gives your ass one last squeeze then gently sets you down. Your towel had fallen off when he picked you up so you tried to hide your face with your hands this time but Zoro was quick enough to react by pinning your wrists above your head. “Aht Aht, I want to see your pretty face, hide from me again and I’ll be forced to do something about it.” He lets go of your wrist to part your thighs apart, kneading at the plump skin the exact same way you were kneading on him earlier. 

You were scared to ask what he meant by “Do something about it” but all thoughts went out the window when Zoro started to pull down your shorts, his fingers easily dipping into the waistband and sliding down your thigh all in one swoop. Your shorts were already gone past your knees by the time you realized what was happening. “Zo-zoro!” You squealed, hands clambering to stop him but it was too late. Your shorts were pulled off one leg with ease and then discarded behind Zoro as he got it off the other. 

You didn’t know what kind of undies to wear to a night like this, deciding between lacey or a thong or something else for hours in the morning. In the end, you just went with plain white cotton panties, afraid of being mocked for wearing something frilly or too sexy. Despite Zoro only having one eye left, his intense stare sent chills down your spine. Eyeing up your panties like it was his prey, he was even licking his lips as well. 

You whimpered, shrinking down on yourself as you tried to close your thighs and hide away from Zoro. Zoro’s clicked his teeth at you, making your cheeks heat up in further shame, he let you close your thighs but his rough and calloused hands went back to groping them, he rested his chin on the edge of your knees. Looking up at you with the same intense fire, you gulped nervously, wanting to just go and hide under the covers. 

But you can’t run away now, not when you were this far and especially not when a handsome man is on his knees for you like this. The silence felt like forever between you two, Zoro was testing you, seeing if you break and give in all on your own, but you held firm, whether it was due to fear or your own stubbornness you don’t know. You jumped when his chuckle broke stillness in the room; “Stubborn girlie, huh? While I do like that, I can’t exactly continue my job here if you keep your legs closed forever.” He pats your thighs twice with a smirk. 

Your struggle to come up with a retort of some kind but only another whimper left your lips as Zoro’s fingers digs a little deeper in your thigh as he hoists himself back up face you. One hand traveling up right after to gently lift your chin up, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. “Just give me the word, girlie, and I’ll give you the world.” His words came out more gentle than you thought it would but with an underlying tone that he meant what he promised.  Zoro looked like a tiger in waiting, calm and collected but ready to pounce at a moment’s notice on any innocent prey that fell into its path. 

And you were that prey, trapped in his sights, caged in by one strong arm on your stomach, his other hand still on your chin, making sure you can’t look away. Though yes, you were trapped, Zoro did not make another move, the hand on your stomach lightly tracing small circles on your skin. He was still waiting for your answer, you knew that you could just stop now and he would let you leave without a fight but you wanted more, more of him, more of the man you barely know, an escort who’s job it was to fuck to you until you were satisfed.

So why were you still hesitating? You signed up for this, you made all the preparations beforehand and now here you are, right where you wanted to be. Zoro tilts his head to the side a bit just like a curious cat, his gold earrings dangle together as he does. You steel your resolve once more, ready to give your answer to Zoro, in the form of an action not words. You press your lips hungrily against Zoro’s, tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip. Tasting mint on your tongue at the first swipe, you groan quietly, tugging onto Zoro’s tight tank top as a silent plea for more. 

You felt Zoro lips quirk up into a smirk at your actions, making your cheeks burn a bit but all thoughts of quitting went out the window when his tongue invaded your mouth. The wet muscle took over your mouth quite easily, leaving you gasping in the small moment when he let you have air. Your body jolts and moans when Zoro’s bulky hand squeezes at your chest. Massaging the soft mounds gingerly, letting your body fall apart into his hands. 

You were like putty being shaped and molded into whatever shape Zoro wanted you to be, so needy and pliant. He parts away from your lips for a few moments, causing you to let you a high pitch whine at the loss of contact. “Tch, already so needy, girlie? Bet your pussy already soaked down there, where did the cute and shy virgin act go, huh?” He squeezed at your chest a bit harder as he uttered those words. 

You sucked in your bottom lip, feeling shame at his words, though your body betrayed you by pressing in closer to Zoro's body, hands clawing unabashedly at his chest. A low growl came from Zoro and then you were laying flat on your back with Zoro sucking harshly on your neck. You quickly grasped onto his shoulders to anchor yourself. “I knew you were secretly a slut, hahh, so fucking needy, looking at me with those eyes, can’t even keep your hands off of me can you?” He grunts out, licking a long strip down to your collarbone as you arch your back off the bed, accidentally grinding against Zoro’s bulge. He backs away just enough to get rid of his tank top, offering you a full view of his glistening abs. 

“Fuck girlie, I bet you want me to stick my cock in you right now, huh? Breed you like the slut you are. Fuck that virgin cunt of yours until you’re begging me to stop. Mmm, maybe you won’t even ask me to stop and I’ll just have to fuck you all night and day.” He nibbled on your collarbone, leaving a path of purple splotches and bite marks, getting annoyed at how your shirt was stopping him from going further, letting out another louder growl. “Arms up.” He commanded, his own hand already pulling the hem of your shirt halfway up your stomach from impatience. You followed blindly, mind spinning from the harsh words he was spewing but you can’t say he was exactly wrong about it. 

He took your shirt off in a frenzy, pulling the garment up and over your head arms and throwing it to the side. Hand palming at your sides, his lone eye staring down at you, lips parting to show off his fangs. “You've been keeping this all to yourself for this long?” Hands expertly unclasping your bra and feeling your bra from your skin, uselessly thrown to the side as well.  He grasped on to your chest, the callous pads on this thumb coming to rub harshly on your nubs. He doesn’t leave time for you to answer this question, as he dips his head to latch on the other side.

The tongue that was just moments ago mapping out the inside of your mouth was now, flicking so deliciously on your nipple. Your nails dig into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself back to reality but Zoro’s seem keen on making you go dumb on his tongue already. His free hand was pinching and pulling on your other nipple, the quick pain switched with the white hot pleasure of his tongue and mouth slurping on you. His other hand was roaming on your skin, gripping on your waist with enough force to leave bruises in the morning. 

“Nnagh-hahh-Zo-Zorooooo~!” 

The amount of drool Zoro left on your chest was already seeping down your side and now to the bed. Not that the both of you cared about it. You took a small glance down and the image you saw almost made you cum. Zoro's eyes were closed shut, small beads of sweat on his forehead, making his mossy hair stick to his skin, he was intensely focused on working his tongue on you. It was a vulgar sight, watching his tongue flick in and out of his mouth in such quick successions. He must have felt you staring at him, because he opened his one eye and took one look at your face and smirked. 

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?” 

You gulped down the spit that you didn't know was pooling in your mouth as you were watching him. Giving a shy nod in return, too afraid to use your voice. He chuckled deeply, pressing kisses down your stomach, hands giving you one last tight squeeze. You let out a small laugh, as you continued watching Zoro, he was giving small kisses and licks on your bare skin. He really was like a big tiger, the way his rough tongue felt on your skin. His eye flickered on you when you snorted at the image of Zoro with cat ears on, eyebrow raising up in question. 

You smiled at him, finally feeling your anxiety and embarrassment wash away bit by bit. Feeling brave enough to run your hand through his hair, it was a bit coarse and sweaty but nicer than you imagined it to be. You swear you could feel and hear Zoro purring at your touch, a low rumble coming from the back of his throat as you gently tug on his hair and scrape your nails against his scalp. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the sensation for a moment, nuzzling his face on your stomach causing you to giggle once again.

Zoro let out a content sigh on your skin, arms dragging down your side slowly, to dip his fingers in your panties. He nips at your skin to get your attention, “Yur’ ok with going further right?” his voice coming out a bit hoarse. You nod but Zoro shakes his head; “I need to hear your cute voice, girlie, tell me what you want me to do to you.” He nipped at you once again, making you whimper at the sharp pain from his fangs. “I want…” You own tongue felt heavy on your cheek as you tried to say what you truly wanted. “I want your cock in me, please Zoro, I need you in me so badly.” 

Zoro growled heavily, “Fuck girlie… yur’ makin’ me lose my mind here.” He pulls down your panties, letting out a groan seeing a sting of your arousal being connected to the base of your panties. “I can’t just shove my cock in you just yet, even though yur’ already this wet, gotta prep you first.” He slaps your pussy, making you sit up straight with a yell. “Zoro!” Now he was snorting out a laugh, you close your thighs and scoot away from him but his grip on your thighs was tight. “Sorry, sorry..” 

He didn't really sound apologetic but you decided you didn't care anymore once his rough tongue was on your pussy. He was also a messy eater on your pussy as well, spitting on it and watching his spit mix in with your juices before diving right back in. One hand secretly going down to pull down his gym shorts and boxer. Kicking it off of him with a lack of grace. More focus on having his tongue gulping down your juices. 

The slurping noises that echoed in the hotel room made your head spin wildly. Zoro’s nose bumping into your clit, as his tongue works its way between your folds and inside your hole. He never stayed in one spot for too long, always moving his head up and down or side to side. The juices cover the entire half of his face as he does so. Your thighs were shaking so much in his tight grip as you never felt this kind of pleasure before. “Nnaghh, fu-fuck me-I-Zorooooo-Mmmahhh!”  You just kept on babbling, hands white knuckled on the hotel sheets, back arching everytime Zoro gave your throbbing clit some attention. It wasn't enough though, the small amount of attention from his nose or swipes from his tongue wasn't enough to push you over the edge.

You were going delirious at this point and Zoro wasn’t even trying to tease you. He was just simply lost in your arousal, enjoying himself too much. You knew this by the way he was rutting himself on the bed, making the frame shake slightly with each thrust. You weakly yank at his hair, whimpering out a small “Zoroooo…” in hopes that he would get your desperation. It took a couple of tries until he understood what you wanted, letting go of your thigh, with one hand coming under his chin to slip a finger in.

He groaned seeing how easily his finger slides in your sloppy cunt, adding in a second just as easily. The stretch of his fingers still burned a bit at first but once Zoro’s lips found your clit again, you found yourself arching off the bed with Zoro’s free hand pushing on your stomach to hold you down. You gush all over Zoro’s face and chin which ended up in him making more obscene noises as he slurps up every drop he could. Fingers still scissoring themselves inside of your walls, adding a third finger once you calmed down from your orgasm. 

“Still here with me, girlie?” Zoro’s voice rasped out, looking up at you from between your thighs, face slick and shiny. 

You could swear that his pupils turned into cat-like slits for a second there. You swallow some dry spit down to speak, knowing that Zoro wanted another vocal answer from you. “M’ goo-good. Do-don’t stop.” He growled at you; “Never said I was gonna stop, girlie. Not after seeing how much this slutty cunt is taking in my fingers so well. You think you were going to leave without my cock stuffed in her first?” You whimpered out when he started biting down on your hips and inner thighs. Marking his place on your skin with vigor, speeding up his fingers, angling his wrist just right so he could hit you in the sweet spot. 

He knew you were close again when your eyes began fluttering close and that cute little mouth of yours turned into a ‘o’. If this wasn’t a job, he would have stopped his fingers as soon as you were close enough, and made you beg him to make you cum. But he prided himself on being a good escort, at least enough to compete with a curly blonde, so instead he planned to make you cum as much as possible tonight. His tongue slipped its way in your sloppy hole as well, slurping up all the cream that was still pouring out. 

He was fighting really hard not to get drunk off of your pussy and focus on your pleasure right now, but with your moans and whimpers and the way your body kept cutely twitching off the bed, he might break soon. This time his free arm was well prepared to soothe you as you reached your second orgasm of the night, bucking your hips into Zoro’s awaiting mouth, as his fingers slipped out to rub at your throbbing clit. 

“Mmahh! Zo-fuuuuuck-Zoro!”

“Let it all go, girlie, hahhh, doin’ so good, like the cute slut you are.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, chest heaving heavily, your mind buzzed so loudly in rhythm with your racing heartbeat. You scarcely register your ankles being hoisted up over Zoro’s shoulder and the weight of his fat cock slapping against your cunt. His hand goes to tightly grip around your neck, leaving you gasping for air. “Look at me, can’t be fucked that dumb yet, your pussy still crying out for me. Can’t you hear her?” He emphasizes this by shoving his fingers back in, making your cunt squelch lewdly with each thrust. 

Sqelch “Ngghhh” Shlick Shlick “Fw-ahhh!”

“Zo-Zoroooo.” You pathetically whine out, your hands pushing at his bicep to get away from your sensitive core. He lets you push him away, slipping his fingers out easily to only then shove them at your lips, growling out the command “Open.” You eagerly obeyed, parting your lips and licking at his digits with vigor you didn't know you had. Tasting your own slick on his fingers, eyes fluttering close as you automatically sucked his fingers clean of yourself. “So good f’r me aren’t cha?” His low timber voice purrs out. 

“So obedient, girlie, hmm? You like being told what to do?” 

You turn your face away, trying to hide it away from his staring and teasing words. Zoro was having none of that though, wrenching your face back to meet with his by seizing hold of your chin and forcing you to turn back. “I want you to either look at me or look at when my cock finally sinks in you, understood?” He didn’t wait for an answer from you, forcing your head up and down into a nod with his own hand. “Good girl~” His tone verges between mocking and praiseful.

Ending his praise with another deep kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you mewl out in slight pain,  parting your lips enough for his tongue to slip in. His hand slips up to tug at your hair, as he utterly devours your lips and mouth. Leaving you no room or control to do as you please, your body surrendering itself to his whims. He leans back to observe your reaction, licking his lips at the sight with another strange growl emitting from his throat.

Your face flushed, eyes glossed over with desire, and lips still parted to let out small puffs of breaths. His grip still on the back of your head, stopped you from cowering away from his gaze, the feeling of a carnal desire coming off from Zoro. He presses his mouth to your neck hard, biting his canines in enough to the point of pain, soothing it with hot kisses afterwards. Gently petting your hair as you cried out and squirmed underneath him. “Hahhh.. fuck…I forgot the damn condom.” 

He gets off of you and looks around for his discarded shorts and rummage around the pockets to find a roll of condoms. Tearing one off and opening with his mouth, pulling out the rubber and aligning himself between your thighs once again, rolling the condom on his cock, hissing softly as it covers his sensitive tip. At this point, you caught your breath again, looking up at Zoro, hand motioning him to come closer. “Tch, so needy.” He rolled his eyes but his tone and demeanor was sort of gentle as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. Hovering his body right over yours, finally prepared, interlacing your fingers together as he goes to kiss your hand again. 

“Ready?” 

You look into his eye, in the man that you chose to take your virginity tonight. Tracing the outline of his pecs with your other hands as you squeezed the one that was interlaced with him. “I’m ready.” Your voice was wavering a little but maintained eye contact with Zoro all the way. He gives you what seems to be a genuine smile in return, kissing your hand one last time and bending down to engulf your lips in a passionate kiss. 

Pushing his hips forward as his thick cock tries to push itself past your folds. The tip barely made it inside, already making you gasp out and dig your nails in his shoulder and squeezed his hand holding yours tightly. “Shh, Shh, you’re doing so good… relax..” Zoro’s voice rasps out, sweat forming on his forehead as he tries to control himself from slamming all the way into you. Waiting for you to give a signal to go again, his lone eye watching every single movement from you. Looking for any sign of pain or discomfort.

You continue to squeeze his hand tightly, blinking away some tears as you steady yourself, feeling ready for more, you murmured a soft “Deeper, please…” Zoro groans out this time, his heart beating faster at how cute and needy you sounded, his cock twitching to go all the way in but he was a good escort. Taking his sweet time to make sure you were all stretched out and snug on his cock before he could ruin you. 

Inching deeper in your tight pussy bit by bit until he bottomed out. You felt like it reached all the way to your throat with all long and thick it was, catching your breath as you breathed out a shaky sigh. Grasping tightly to Zoro’s hand; “Deep breaths girlie, thats it, you’re doing so good, haaaah, fuck you’re so tight, clenching on me so hard already.” He uses his free hand to caress your cheek gently as lewd praises spill out from his lips. “Was your pussy always this slutty? Hmm, or do you like my cock that much? Heh, It’s going to be hard to fuck other guys when you can only think of me huh?”

“Just sh-shut up and fuck me already.” You faintly hiss out, getting a bit annoyed. “You talk too much, I paid you to use that mouth for something other than just talking, you know.” Zoro lets out a hearty laugh at that, showing off all his teeth once again, a dark gleam in his eye. His hand goes down to squeeze harshly at your chest then down further to press on below your navel right above where his cock was buried. Slowly pulling his cock out till only the tip was still inside; “Sorry could you repeat that? Didn’t quite hear you?”

“Zoro-aa-hah-AH!” You eyes flew wide open, arching your back off the bed as Zoro slams his whole length into you once more. Keeping the rhythm going, plunging in and out at a painfully slow pace, but it was enough to make you roll your eyes. Your hand lost its strength and was gradually slipping from Zoro’s but he grabbed you by the wrist and plop one of your fingers in his mouth, sensually rolling his tongue around the digit making you lose more sense until he abruptly bit down on it.   

Enough to draw blood and make your whole body jolt from the pain only to be hit with a wave of pleasure as his cock found its way to your sweet spot. Zoro sucking on your wounded finger, tongue roughly licking at the bite mark, lapping at the blood and indents. It felt weird, a painful kind of sting with each lap of his tongue that made you crave for more each time it was gone. Or maybe you were losing your mind with how his cock was still ramming it way into your cervix.

 “Ngaah-Hahh-Zorooo-fuck!” Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as your body surrenders itself to Zoro fully, his fangs making various bite marks on your arm now, his cock stretching you out fully, his hand pressing down on your stomach each time his cock reaches that area. You wanted so desperately to say that you wanted Zoro to go faster, however only drool and nonsensical babble came out of your mouth.  Your babbles mixed in with the sounds of Zoro’s grunts and growls as he started licking away at all the bloodied bite marks he made on your arm. 

His cat-like tongue sweeping and swirling on the bruises, small beads of blood dripping out of the wound quickly whisked away by the wet muscle. The corners of his lips and teeth were now stained red, not that Zoro cared heck he might have even loved the fact that he looked like a carnivore right now. Eating away at his prey bit by bit, devouring every aspect of your body, every whimper or moan from your lips, every twitch and shiver of your body, all caused by him. 

When Zoro gets down to your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side to meet his gaze. Pleading with your teary eyes for him to go harder, faster, anything from the agonizing sluggish pace he kept at currently. Zoro growls softly at your weeping face, wiping away your tears with his fingers, smudging some blood on your cheek in the process. “What's wrong, girlie?” he sounded genuine but with the way his lips were quirked up in a smirk he probably wasn't all that sincere. Especially how his hips  suddenly sputter to a complete stop halfway in. His cock twitching slightly inside of you, as you cried out some more tears. 

Clawing your nails into his biceps, lips out in a full pout as you barely manage blubber out some words; “Mo-more” “Zorooo” and “Please”. Your pitiful attempts at pleading were enough to make Zoro waver a little, actually being genuine this time when he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. You taste the copper tang from your own blood on your tongue as Zoro tilts your chin up to gain more access to your mouth. His other hand roaming to give some attention to your throbbing clit some much needed attention. 

You attempt to buck your hips up but with Zoro’s weight still pressing down on you it is a near impossible task. You only managed to make yourself seem more pitiful, as pitiful whines bubbled up from your throat, your thighs shaking and tensing around Zoro’s waist. “Seems like I got carried about with the biting again…” He murmured out quietly, after parting from your lips. You sent him a weak glare, slapping his bicep making him chuckle out in return. You slap him again. He returns the slap by giving you one on your clit. 

Pressing his tongue inside your mouth when you yelp at the sting of it, taking this moment to push his cock all the way in again. His thumb rubbing at your clit in small circles as Zoro starts to increase his pace. Along with increasing the force of his thrust, the slapping sound when your skin colliding with each other echoed so loudly in the hotel room, making your ear burn with embarrassment. Your cries and pleads were back to being swallowed up by Zoro’s tongue. He would let out occasional growls or heavy pants in between the small instances when he allowed you to breathe in air again. You felt your core tightening with white-hot pleasure, black spots appearing in your vision as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

Legs trembling and your pussy clenching down on Zoro’s length, making him increase his pace on both his thrusts and his thumb ministrations. “C’mon cum for me girlie, mmmf-fuck, cum for me.” he grunted out, slamming his hip in a particularly  mean thrust. That combined with his thick-voiced command was the final straw that pushed you over. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as your body spasms and thrash around the searing and burning amount of pleasure that you never felt before was almost too much for you to handle. 

Luckily Zoro wasn’t that mean, combing his hair through your hair as he ease you into it, softly speaking praises into the shell of your ear as his other arm placed itself on your back. Pushing you forward into a half bear hug, your body colliding with Zoro’s tightly, his arm pressing your chest against his, mixing your heart beats together. When your breathing lowers down to low pants and your body settles to small twitches here and there, only then does Zoro bring his arm back and slowly pull out. 

His own breathing low and heavy, his chest slowly rising and falling with each parted sigh. Sweat dripped from his forehead and glistened on his chest. He removes the condom with a groan, wrapping his hand around the base, looking down at you with a cloudy gaze. You wearily blink your eyes back open to ogle at the sight before his voice rings out to you. You strained your ears to listen to his request. “--you don’t mind if I cum on you right?” he was already stroking his cock as he was asking you for permission. Who were you to say no to this hunking beast of a man?

Still catching your breath, you nod at him, parting your legs out more and leaning your head back to watch Zoro jerk himself off right above you. The thick veins on his hand almost matched the ones on his pulsing cock. Your hole was clenching around nothing as you kept on leering at this sight, the smell of sweat and sin in the air, Zoro’s eye half-lidded staring down at you, his lips wet and smeared with your blood still. Low and rugged pants coming up from his throat as he squeezed your chest with his other hand, increasing the pressure on both hands as he soon reached his own climax. Spattering his cum across your chest in short spurts, a loud mix of a growl and a grunt escaped his lips as well. 

After a short pause, he wipes off some sweat from his face, a wide smirk plastered on his face. “Well? How was that for your first time, eh girlie? I think I deserve a 5-star rating.” He moved around until he was sitting by your side now, gently caressing your face with the hand he used to just jerk off with. You felt the sticky residue he was leaving your cheek. “Ugh! Zoro, don't use that hand to touch my face right now!” You smack his hand away with a grimace, propping yourself on your elbows. Hissing out in pain when the bite that Zoro left on there starts to bleed out a bit again. You send a glare Zoro’s way, he rubs the back of neck as he looks away from your glare, muttering out a “Whoops..” You smack him on the arm again; “I think you deserve a 1-star rating instead.” Zoro flinched at the smack but you knew that was mostly because of your words and not because your attack did any damage to him. You ran your fingers over the indentations of Zoro’s fangs in your skin, the small sting that came with each run thru sent shivers down your spine. You then hear and feel the bed creaking from beside you as Zoro sags his head down on your shoulder.

His arm loosely wrapping around your waist, his cheek nuzzling delicately against yours. This must be Zoro’s way of apologizing you thought silently, holding back a grin. You took some pity on the man and patted his head a bit just like a cat. He makes a small noise, akin to a real purr, your mind must be playing tricks on you or something. He plants mushy kisses on your cheek, descending down to your shoulder. Licking at any bruises or marks he left there as well, then going even further down to your arm. Stopping at every wound and kissing and licking at it.

Running his bristly tongue over the indents, it wasn’t soothing as you thought it would be, the prickle of pain with each lap of his tongue followed by a gentle kiss made your mind roll though. Maybe you liked feeling a bit of pain with pleasure? This was something new to you, as Zoro continues his apology, already halfway down your arm which was now covered in spit along with the bite marks and blood spots. Another shiver went down your spine as Zoro’s tongue pressed deeply into a particularly deep wound. The jolt of pain that came from it made you moan out a bit. 

Causing Zoro to stop mid-lick and look up at you with a curious glint in his eye. His lips curled up at the side; “Oh? What was that a moan, hmm, sweetheart?” “N-no…” You looked away from him, about to tug your arm away when his tongue came out again on the same spot. Pressing much harsher this time on the bite mark. You couldn’t hold back the throaty moan, closing your eyes instead and feeling the heat of shame light up your cheeks and ears. Zoro chuckles; “You should have told me that you liked this sort of thing, I would have marked you up much more.” Your cheeks burn a bit more at the comment, desire stirring up once again in your chest. 

“I didn’t really know I was into this sort of thing, alright? It’s all new to me… Anyway, are-are you going to leave now that we’re done?” Your voice cracked a bit at the end, as your mood instantly dampened the thought of Zoro leaving you. He raised up an eyebrow at you; “Leaving? You want to kick me out that badly?” His tone is light as he flicks your forehead with a finger. Kissing it right after to ease the small sting of pain. “And we’re not done yet. It seems like you want more, don’t cha?” He hums out, kissing the shell of your ear, his hand meeting in the middle of your thighs. 

Your body parting them open easily so his finger could slip in your pussy, plunging in out with the slick and wetness making lewd noises come out. You just started to grind your hips up when Zoro pulled his finger out and licked away the slick. Moving to the edge of the bed and beckoning you forward, patting his thigh with both hands. “Cm’ere.’ His cock was sitting up prettily between his muscular thighs, your heartbeat felt like it was skyrocketing as you slowly made your way over to him. His hands came to grab onto your waist as you threw your legs over the side of his thighs. 

His fingers digging in your soft flesh when he realizes something. “Shit…forget about the condoms again. Hold-” “Ah! Zoro, wait-” Your bend forward, throwing your arms around his neck, stopping him from getting up. “Can we skip the condom this time.. Please?” Your heart was pounding at this request but you really wanted to feel Zoro fully this time. “Shit, girlie. I’m not opposed to fucking raw but are you really sure about this?” He looks at you with his steel eye searching for any sign that you weren’t 100% sure about it, making you gulp nervously at the intensity of it. But you didn’t back down; not shying away from his gaze you answered back. “I am sure, I…I want to feel everything this time. I can handle it.” 

He stares at you for a couple more moments, a wide toothy smile taking over his face. His fangs seem sharper now for some reason as well. “Already getting addicted to my cock huh? I knew that you wouldn’t just be satisfied after one round. Mmm..you better be prepared, cause I’m not holding back this time..” He ends his statement by immediately biting down hard on your shoulder, puncturing his fangs in and drawing blood. His hands anchored itself on your waist, making sure you can’t squirm away. A choked whine leaves your lips, the searing pain of the bite makes your pussy quiver with need.

Zoro releases his fang from your shoulder, switching to sucking and lapping up the blood spilling out, his hands loosening its hold on you to swipe at you needy cunt. His fingers quickly drenched in your arousal, plunging in and scissoring his fingers. The feeling was nice but it wasn't enough for you. Tugging at Zoro’s hair with a whimper, blinking down at him thru your teary lashes. The sight made his cock jump up even more. He gulped down some of your blood and held it in his mouth so when he went in for the kiss, you could have a taste also.

Now, regardless if you actually wanted to drink down some of your blood was irrelevant as Zoro also took this time to spear you with his length. Bullying it up all the up to your cervix, done easily as your slick was still plentiful, nasty ‘plaps’ echoed loudly each time your hips slapped against each other. The unexpected thrusting made you moan, opening your mouth to let in the metallic liquid and Zoro’s saccharine tongue to wash over your taste buds. Almost choking on your own blood from how rough Zoro was bouncing you on his lap. 

‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’  “Zo-Zoro-Slow-Mmhh! Nggh!!”  ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’  

Your pleads were taken away when Zoro bit down on your bottom lips cruelly. Drawing more blood out and licking and sucking at it sweetly the next moment. His muscular thighs spread apart as he kept on bouncing you up and down on his cock. His hands kneaded at the soft flesh of your ass, sometimes gripping so hard that his handprints were about to be imprinted on the skin. A quick slap on your ass, made you cry out, tilting your head back as tears fell down your cheek beautifully. 

A pitiful sniffle and whimper is all you could muster when Zoro grabs you by the chin to pull you back in. His fingers pressing on your tear-ridden cheeks to open your mouth for his greedy tongue. “Tongue out.” He growls, giving you another smack on the ass. You loll out your tongue quite obscenely, eyes half-lid and wet with tears. Zoro rewards your quick obedience by sucking on your tongue, his hand withdrawing from both sets of cheeks, going to wrap around your waist and under you. Planting his feet firmly on the ground so he could stand up with you still on his cock with ease. 

His muscle only twitches slightly as he picks you up, his mouth never once leaving yours. Your tongue being abused by his lips and teeth, going as far as to bite down on it. His own rough tongue coming to trail over the wound, going deeper in your throat later on as his cock was also still buried deep in your core. The bounce with each step he took, jostled his cock even more inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist to keep steady, even with his iron grip on your skin you were scared of slipping off. Not that Zoro would ever let you fall off, moving forward with you until your back reached the wall. 

Right where he wanted you, trapped between the hotel wall and a muscular wall of abs. With one last flick of his tongue on yours, he parts from your mouth, a nasty strand of salvia connected you two for a small moment. You suck in much needed air into your lungs, your chest heaving up and down and your thighs clenching together the moment Zoro bucks his hips up into you. A loud moan ripped itself from your throat. “Zorooooooo!” You whined out, more moans coming out from you. Your back hitting the wall with each thrust upwards of his hips, the pictures on the wall bouncing along with you. Almost falling off with how hard Zoro was fucking you. 

“O-Oh-hnggg-Zoro! Fu-Fuck!”

“You better quiet down or do you want the room next door to hear how much of a slut you are right now?” 

Zoro’s tutted at you but with the smirk on his face and how he kept thrusting into you without a care. The thumping on the wall grows louder in tandem with your moans and pants. A photo frame came crashing down on the ground but neither of you noticed it. Zoro grunts out near your ear, his tan skin flushed a delicious pink, he leans his head down a bit to bite down on your neck. Your nails stab into his shoulders, knuckles whites, your eyes and stomach squeezing as hot pleasure washes over you. Zoro gives you more bites, on your neck, collarbone, and shoulder. Never once losing the harsh pace he was giving you. 

‘Plaps’ ‘Thrust’ ‘Thrust’ “Hahhhhhh” ‘Plaps’ ‘Plaps’

“Fuck….. I think I'm the one getting addicted to this pussy of yours, girlie.” Zoro sighs out, the flush on his face getting pinker. His mind was getting hazy as his cock drags itself along your walls, without the condom you both felt everything so much more. His thick throbbing veins rubbing against your walls with each push and pull, his fat tip hitting your spot so sweetly. The way you were clenching down on him, your juices spilling out so much, almost making his cock slip out if he wasn’t careful. “Ha-ahhhhhh, sweetheart… fu-fuck.” His hands press in a bit on your hips, pressing his forehead against your. “L-let me cum in you? Nghhhh.. Please let me mark you on the inside as well.” 

You didn't expect Zoro to plead for it, his eye glazed over with lust, licking his teeth clean of your blood while staring at you. His hot breath coming out in short and husky pants, you turn this man into a mess and you loved it. “I-I’m close too.. Let’s cum together.. Please.” You press your legs closer around his back, pulling him closer to you as you clenched down on his cock. Zoro pushes you against the wall even more, one arm grabbing the back of your head as he crashes his lips into yours. A growl emitting from his throat as his abs starts to tense up from the build up of his own release. 

HIs hips going at a extra hard pace now, you could swear that the entire hotel room was shaking from how hard he was fucking you. “C’mon sweetheart, Ha-ahh, give it to me..” Another growl came out of Zoro as he nipped at your bloodied and swollen lips. His hand tugging at your locks, hot puffs of air coming out from both of you. Your body shakes and clenches down even harder than your last orgasm. Grinding your whole body against Zoro’s as your back arch off the wall and collide with his chest. Zoro releasing his own thick rope of cum into you soon after, the sensation of his cream spilling itself hotly inside you, mixing in with your own juices, made you see stars in your vision. 

Zoro begins backing away from the wall, arms still wrapped around you as your body twitches as you calm down from your orgasm. Your head flopping down on Zoro's shoulder, your breath stuttering out, your body completely spent and tired. With no energy to even continue wrapping your legs around his waist, your legs dangle on the side now, but Zoro held you tight. Pacing his way over to the bed, you heard some shuffling and felt your body being moved about all over the place but soon you succumbed to sleep. Your eyes flutter closed as the last thing you see and hear is Zoro above you, murmuring out. “Sleep well, girlie…”

------

The morning lights filter through the curtains, landing directly on your face. You groan out, shifting your body the other way to get away from the light. The sound of quiet grunting can be heard once you settle back in again. You laid there for a short while, straining your ears to try to figure out what the noises could be and where it was coming from. Eventually your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to sit up fully and blink open your eyes to look around. Rubbing sleep from them with a yawn as your vision clears. 

What you found was Zoro on the ground doing one-handed push ups. Only wearing a pair of boxers as sweat trickles down his broad back. He soon stops as he notices you staring at him, giving him what you think was a wink as he stands up and stretches his arms backwards. “Mornin’ sweetheart. Took you long enough to wake up.” He steps over to the edge of the bed, looming over you. A hand coming down to pat you on the head twice, fluffing up your bed-head even more. “I still expect to get that 5-stars review, you know?” He chuckles out, seeing you try to pat down some hair that was sticking up. 

You only noticed now when Zoro went to the bathroom, that you got clothes on, the simple t-shirt and shorts that you packed before you came here. Zoro must have put them on you while you passed out after last night’s… activities. Speaking of that... You start to flush a rosy pink, as the memories of last night came flooding back. The bite marks on your skin pulsing with a mild ache, your thighs move with a new kind of soreness you never felt before. You flop back on the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug to your chest with a grumble. 

Zoro walked out of the bathroom back in his normal clothes, snorting softly at the sight before him. Bending down to your level and giving you a quick peck on the forehead as he brushes your hair back. “Don’t be mad at me alright? You asked for it last night, heh, practically begged for it.” He teases out, making you grumble and pout cutely, still leaning into the warmth of his hand. His hand goes down to cup your cheek, giving you a sweeter kiss on your lips that lasts for a while. But when he parts away from you, it felt like it wasn’t enough, making your heart ache a bit. 

“It’s a bit past noon.” He sighs out, his tone low. “I have places to be.” You swallowed back a lump in your throat. You knew that this was only a one night thing, he was an escort after all not your lover or anything like that. Still you couldn’t shake the feeling of sorrow in your heart watching Zoro get up to leave. Only giving him a small nod as you bury yourself back into the bed, clutching the pillow even tighter to your chest to try dull the ache there. You heard another sigh from Zoro and some rustling of paper. You peek over to find Zoro scribbling something down on the hotel notepad. Ripping the page off and giving it to you. “This is my personal phone number, since I know no other guy will be able to satisfy you like I did. Call me whenever you need me again or whatever.” He mumbled out the last part almost shyly. His head turned away from you but you can see the tips of his ears were pink. 

You take the paper, your heart leaping up to your throat in joy. Zoro doesn’t turn back to you as he walks away, too embarrassed to show you his blushing face so he just waves a goodbye and gives you a small; “Later, Y/N”. The door shuts behind him and now you’re left alone in the room once more. Your first thought was, ‘I wonder if Zoro is gonna get lost on his way to his next appointment again.’ and your second was, ‘Is it too soon if I call him again tomorrow…?’ 

Taglist: @baka-tsuki @malxoxo @saenora

[j0kers-light]

Dear Chaos, sorry I've been so absent lately. A lot has been happening lately but I just wanted to say that the latest HL chapter is just perfection🫶

I do have another idea for a request. What if HL got in a car accident while on the phone with J? He goes out to find her but she is not at the scene anymore. Maybe because she was taken to the hospital or taken hostage by two face.

No rush my love, take all the time you need. You're the best!

His Lighthouse: Broken Promises (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Broken Promises - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

Hey hi @darthjokerisyourfather 🖤✨

Never apologize for living your life! I should apologize for this crappy title. I don't like it. 🙃 I thank you so much for requesting this! You always manage to pull me out of my writer's block with your beautiful imagination! I also thank you for your patience and your kindness. Just how long did you wait for this? 😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖 ugh, please don't hate me love! *dodges flying tomatoes*

Chaos loves you and hopes that you enjoy! If not, you know I can go back to the drawing board and try again!

More importantly, If you wish to be a part of the His Lighthouse taglist, do let me know via comment, ask, or a quick direct message!

Joker must have forgotten. That was the only explanation you had for his absence. 

You sat in a fancy Gotham City restaurant trying not to let the pitiful glares bother you. The low murmurs of surrounding conversations and the constant clinking of chinaware did nothing to block the embarrassment you felt.  

A giant red, ‘I got stood up’ sign was painted on your forehead. The mocking snickers and pitiful looks became more obvious as time passed.  

You wanted to keep a glimmer of hope that Joker was coming, yet you sat alone at the table, nursing your favorite drink and eating too much bread to be considered healthy.  

During the second, or maybe the third basket, you came to the heartbreaking conclusion. 

Joker forgot about the date that HE organized.  

Why were you not surprised? This was Joker after all and unfortunately, this had become the norm as of late.  

You flicked breadcrumbs from your fingers before smoothing your dress down for the umpteenth time. There were probably noticeable wrinkles with how much you clenched the fabric throughout the evening. More importantly, you hated that you got all dolled up for nothing.  

The formfitting dress in your favorite color was brand new and you spent countless hours taming your natural hair into a new hairstyle to compliment your outfit.  

Your curls were defined and voluminous framing your face and pretty jewelry adorned your skin helped complete the look.  

Just thinking about the time and energy you wasted for this failure of a date made you tear up until you remembered your mascara was not waterproof. You refused to let your emotions get the better of you in public. It was already humiliating enough and a gorgeous blonde two tables away kept rubbing in your embarrassment with her sharp red lips curling into a smirk every time she laughed. 

You would bet a penny she was a true mean girl back in high school.  

You didn’t want to wallow in this misery any longer. Joker was obviously not coming, so it was time for you to leave.  

Maybe on the way home you could pick up some ice cream and perform some self-care to restore your mood. A nice warm bath with candles and a good playlist in the background would clear up the disappointment you felt.  

Oh, but leaving would take a herculean effort. You would have to put on a brave face and walk out with the entire restaurant staring at you. Alone.  

The things Joker put you through.  

You cleared your throat and plastered a fake confident smile on your face to flag down the waiter. She was already on standby. Bless her. She kept your glass following throughout the night and she didn’t judge you with each basket of bread delivered to your table. 

She been in the industry long enough to know you were stood up. It broke her heart to see you, a beautiful woman, plagued by a man and his ignorance. She and a few other waiters would foot your bill. It was the least they could do to help a fellow sister in need. 

The world needed more girls like her in it. Her supportive smile gave you the energy to stand up tall as you walked out.  

But the second you got into the driver’s seat of your SUV, the floodgates opened with no end in sight. Screw your makeup, you were holding this sob fest in for hours.  

You probably looked a hot mess crying in the car but more than anything, you were mad at Joker for not keeping his promise. Again.  

It wouldn’t be as heartbreaking if this was the first time he left you hanging. Oh no, this was a reoccurring issue.  

You were so tired of being treated like the middle child. Joker needed hear about this. It was his fault you were feeling miserable. 

Deep down, you just wanted to hear his voice. Maybe this was all some big misunderstanding!  

Despite arriving at the restaurant ten minute early, (and triple checking to make sure it was the correct one) perhaps you were in the wrong and not Joker. Any and all excuses floated inside your head to cut Joker some slack. Because if he was truly at fault, then your heart would simply shatter. 

You temporarily stopped the waterworks to find your phone and dial a number you knew by heart. It rang until Joker’s raspy voice reached your ears. “Heyy Bunny. What a uhh unexpected surprise!”  

His words made your heart develop a stress crack. You choked back a sob and Joker instantly heard it. “Bun what’s wrong?” 

“D-Did you forget about tonight?” You glanced out the window as a few cars passed by. 

“Uhhhh.. tonight?” Joker mumbled the word over and over trying to jog his memory.  

You didn’t know if he was making fun of you or if he genuinely couldn’t recall. Either way, you were fed up. “Our date night! The one that you made reservations for!” you sobbed. 

“Oh. That. I err.. lost track of time.” You couldn’t take it anymore. Joker’s nonchalant tone was your tipping point.  

“Light, are ya still there?” He asked when you didn’t reply. When you did, you had plenty to say. 

“Lost track of time? You? Lost track of... please tell me you are joking? I sat at our table for two hours waiting for you! Everyone made fun of me for being stood up while you lost track of time!”  

“Aww don’t cryy! I can be there in—” 

Your tone was sharp and firm, “Don’t bother Joker.” you started the SUV as you put your seatbelt on with your other hand. “I’m going home.”  

There was a brief delay in the phone signal as it connected to the car’s system, but you still heard Joker’s string of no’s. “Let me make it up to ya!”  

He really thought you would give him another chance? Your lips silently recited the apologizes that oozed from Joker’s lips like oil. 

“Tonight was supposed to be you making up for ditching me last week or have you forgotten? Urgh! You keep putting me off J, and it isn’t fair!”  

You pulled the car into drive and exited the car park. Joker hated to hear your accusations, but you were right.  

His line of work had recently picked up and every time he made plans with you, they were delayed or flat out cancelled to make way for something more nefarious.  

He was putting work over you, something he vowed never to do. That did not mean he would tolerate you talking back to him like you were. “Y/n, I am—” 

“Save it Joker! Your apologies mean nothing when your actions don’t follow suit.” He heard your blinker on in the background as he tried to make amends.

It wasn’t good to be driving in your current emotional state and trying to tell you what to do would only stir up more attitude from you. 

It was worth a try. He could deal with a bratty bunny later.  

“Doll, can ya pull over so we can talK about thiss? I can uhh, meet up with ya and we can do something. Just. Us.” 

That was new.  

You pondered the suggestion for a second and began turning onto a deserted backroad. It would take you straight to your apartment in a fraction of the time it would take driving on the highway. “No, Joker, I’m done listening to—” 

The unnatural sound of metal clashing and scraping against metal violently pierced through the phone’s speakers and cut you off mid sentence.  

It twisted loudly, making horrifying cracks and pops that lasted for ages—when it was just a matter of seconds. Joker’s keen ear knew what was occurring, but it didn’t seem real.  

These things shouldn’t happen to his Light. Joker made sure your vehicle was military grade. Nothing should have been able to topple it over, much less allow it to roll twice. He just sat helplessly, listening to the impossible unfold.  

As the metal settled, the phone called continued in eerie silence. Then he waited and waited, hoping this to be nothing but a dream.  

Maybe it was another car and you were stunned into silence. The only downside, he couldn’t hear you breathing.  

“Bunny. B-Bun? No… m-my Light? Y/n?” 

Joker used every nickname he had for you but none provoked a response. So, Joker flat out started to beg. “Y/n.. please..  

His pleas died out the moment he heard a new sound. Footsteps on broken glass. Two sets at that which were approaching to wherever your phone was tossed.  

“F__k, did you have to ram her so hard? The boss wants her alive remember? See, she’s unconscious!” A gruff voice said.  

Joker honed in on the voice like a bloodhound and narrowed his eyes when another person spoke up with a much thicker Gotham accent.  

“Even better for us. Grab her feet, I’ll get her shoulders. N’hurry up before someone comes.” 

“Don’t rush me! Agh, I can’t get a good grip, she’s all bloody!” 

Joker’s heart plummeted to his stomach. You were more injured that he thought. His mind already started to visualize the worst scenario imaginable.  

The two men continued to bicker although Joker tuned out their useless chatter. He didn’t want to believe what he just heard.  

Two men deliberately rammed you off the road. Gotham City was vast and Joker had many enemies both local and abroad. Narrowing down exactly who did this would be impossible, although he had a clue who the culprit was.  

Joker was still in lala land when Frost cleared his throat.  

He didn’t care about J taking a call during the meeting, but he could tell something wasn’t right. Joker had frozen up like a statue halfway through and it took Frost kicking J’s chair to snap the clown out of whatever rabbit hole he fell in.  

Before Frost could speak, J beat him to it. “Track B’s car. I need a location, now.”  

The room went silent at the shaky tone Joker used. He could care less about showing weakness in front of his men. He would worry about optics later.  

Right now, you were the only constant on his mind.  

Frost didn’t ask for context; he did what he was told and seconds later, he voiced his findings to the room.

“That’s weird.” He tapped the keyboard again to get more accurate data. “It's on the stretch of Kane St, idle and with the engine off.” 

He looked up into the turbulent waves that made up Joker’s eyes. No words were needed. This was a full-on Nightfall procedure. You were in danger.  

Frost hoped that whoever hurt you had enjoyed their life because the wrath of Joker was coming to reap their soul.  

Not a word was spoken when the four men arrived at the scene.  

All that was left of your vehicle was a mangled wreckage still smoldering in the dead of night. Frost sought out to find any evidence while Neo and Mac took pictures. Joker was like a ghost watching it all unfold.  

He found one of your shoes lying nearby and picked it up with shaky hands.  

It was new with hardly any scuff marks on its lacquered surface despite the crash. He could only imagine the outfit you paired with the designer heel.  

That thought racked him with guilt.  

If only he made time to see you tonight and shielded you from this avoidable fate.  

How could he blow off something so precious as spending time with his Light? Work was never more important than you and Joker was faced with the consequences of not cherishing you while he had the chance.  

He had to get you back and treat you like the goddess you were.  

“Hey Boss, we found something!”  

Joker snapped himself out of his thoughts and walked over to Mac who was holding up something. A hastily written note signed off by Two Face’s gang logo. Joker was right to assume the former attorney had a hand in this.  

“Its Two Face. When do you want to retaliate, Boss?” Neo asked.  

All four men shared a look. What a loaded question. They would act now and show no mercy. Each of them would do whatever it took to get you back safe and sound.  

You woke up with a splitting headache and parched throat. Oh, and you were tied up in some dingy room.  

Honestly, you had to stop winding up in these types of situations. Ever since Joker entered your life, being kidnapped was always a possibility you had to consider occurring.  

Today just happened to be your unlucky day.  

Calming down your heart rate and taking in your surroundings took a bit of effort. It hurt to move your head, and you grumbled under your breath while trying to blink away the unwanted inertia. 

Someone was smart enough to keep you lying down, but you couldn’t move your arms or legs. Not like you wanted to. 

You were still coming to when a presence made themselves known with their loud voice. It made your head pound even worse.  

“Good, good! You’re finally awake. You are very hard to get a hold of, my dear. Always protected. Never alone..”  

You managed to turn your head enough to see Harvey Dent pacing the room, talking to himself. His alter ego, Two Face was currently talking and you heard the not so pleasant choice of words he used regarding you.  

He had quite the colorful vocabulary and it was obvious out of the two men who held a grudge against you. When he noticed your curious eyes on him, he smiled wide.  

Even his voice changed with the change in personalities.

This one was gravelly to match Dent’s grotesque burned face. “I’ve been dying to prosecute you in the court of law.” 

You did not have the mental capacity to argue with a schizophrenic psychopath. All your energy was spent on closing your eyes to block out the headache wreaking havoc on your skull. You didn’t care if you were being rude.  

It was rude to crash into people’s cars and forcibly take them to undisclosed locations so... You were matching Dent’s energy.  

‘Not today, Satan. Not today’ you mentally said.  

Or perhaps you said it aloud since you heard Harvey’s aggravated shouts followed by something being knocked over and breaking.

It seemed that even grown men could throw temper tantrums. That was not your problem. Your problem was trying to stay awake.

You were beginning to suspect you had a concussion, or worse, some kind of neck injury. The last thing you were going to receive was medical attention, so lying still was your best bet until help arrived.  

That thought put a frown on your face. You could not rely on Joker nowadays. 

Would he even notice that you were gone? You abruptly hung up the phone mid argument; he probably disregarded you and became distracted by something more important.  

A time ago, you were the only thing important to Joker. Everything else was secondary. My, have things changed.  

Now you wished that Joker would become the possessive lover you knew him to be and come save you.  

You were certain that he placed a tracker in your lighthouse necklace.. the one you removed since it clashed with your outfit for the night.  

Great. The one time you took it off!  

You felt like such an idiot despite all of this being Joker’s fault. If only he cared more, he would’ve been with you tonight to avoid this. Now you were at the mercy of Two Face and whatever motive he made up to justify abducting you.  

There was nothing you could do to escape your current predicament.  

You were just upset and disappointed in Joker, and with that, you let a single tear slip down your cheek as you fell unconscious.  

The next time you came to, you didn’t bother opening your eyes. You just groaned in defeat and let whoever pick you up and carry you off. And that was probably for the best.  

Unbeknownst to you, it was a literal war zone.  

If you did in fact open your eyes, the carnage that Joker created to rescue you, would have scared you back to sleep. You would declare Joker a monster after seeing just how far he would go for his Bunny.  

Any other day he would deny his true nature, all for the sake of being worthy enough to bask in your light. Tonight, he had no such compulsion. 

He had no shame in carrying his Light while being drenched in blood. He was a fallen angel personified.  

Even as Joker rounded a corner to leave, he helped a man take their last breath by lodging a bullet between their eyes. Quick and efficient, the punishment did not befit the crime of touching what Joker considered as his.  

The two men who initially rammed you off the road got off lucky.  

Joker struck a one-time deal with the Penguin to use the massive great white shark the Englishman kept locked up in a tank underneath the Iceberg Lounge. It was a natural garbage disposal and Joker had two pieces of trash he wanted to get rid of.  

Joker thought being fed to sharks was tame compared to the ideas still swimming in his head.  

His dark smile sent shivers down the backs of his own men and they wisely avoided their eyes as Joker passed. No one was safe from the murderous gleam in J’s eyes.  

That is, all but one. You.  

He was a completely different person tonight. The slaughter was personal, the attacks more brutal and practically inhumane, and it was all done to avenge his goddess.  

Joker was out for blood, and he most certainly collected it.  

He held your slumbering body close as he ordered Mac to detonate the bomb and reduce the building to rubble. If anyone was lucky enough to escape Joker’s initial siege into the building, there was no hope of survival now.  

Just the way he planned it.  

A shame Harvey got an anonymous tip and fled before Joker arrived. J would have loved to see the other side of Dent’s face burn to a crisp for touching his Light.  

Speaking of. Joker’s haunting green eyes looked away from the blazing inferno and down at his sleeping beauty.  

There were minor cuts and bruising forming from being caught up in your car crash, yet he was more worried about the dried blood ruining your once pristine hair.  

Your beautiful features were marred by pain that Joker could have prevented. You needed medical attention and some good old-fashioned love and affection.  

And just like that, all of Joker’s bloodlust was extinguished to devote his attention onto you.  

He had weeks of apologizing to do to earn your trust and love back, but for now, he needed you back in good health.  

Joker softly kissed your forehead and let his goons drive him to the nearest safe house where Sarai would have a look at you.  

It was high time that Joker re-appointed you back as the most important thing in his life, and it started with showing that he cared about you and only you.  

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 32/42? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN (interlude) ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY (interlude) TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT TWENTYNINE THIRTY THIRTYONE

(And we have an estimated final chapter count!)

CHAPTER THIRTYTWO

                “Hey baby… how was work today?”

                “Busy busy, usual stuff. Lots of prep. Lots of high pressure so there was a bit of yelling,” Bradley admits, because Jake never believes him when he says he sometimes yells at people.

                “You were yelling at people? I can’t believe that…”

                Bradley laughs, because Jake hasn’t ever seen his infamous temper. Not that he really feels he has one anymore, capable of putting it when the cameras are rolling, but otherwise he’s pretty even keeled.

                “God I miss you.”

                “I’ll be back before you know it.”

…            …            …

                “Seresin’s Sauce. This why you always insist on having sauce with every meal you egotistical dick bag?”

                He ignores the insult. Gravel is, and always has been, incapable of handling Jake being better than him. The fact that there are so many aviators better than Gravel doesn’t seem to ping his radar, but Gravel is not Jake’s favorite person. However he is holding something that Jake’s recognizes.

                “Where did you get that?” Jake asks, reaching for the bottle. It’s plastic, not like the glass ones he gets with little love notes written on them from Leo. But the logo on the front is the same, and he knows Maria and the others have been doing something, and it’s involved making this sauce and blah blah blah. He really doesn’t care about the business side of the farm, just knows that they were making sauce now, and it had their name. He unscrews the lid.

                “Hey! Hands off! What the fuck do you think you’re doing! Don’t stick your finger in the bottle? Oh for fucks sake…”

                “Where did you get it?” Jake repeats, and he licks the sauce off his finger. It’s just the plain one, not one of the variations that Leo had made him try.

                “I bought it at the grocery store, like a normal human being you asshole.”

                “Huh. Like… This is my sauce though.”

                “Just because it’s got your name on it doesn’t make it yours.”

                Jake wants to argue, say that the tomatoes in it are grown on his family’s farm, that his boyfriend made the sauce but if it’s gotten to be a big enough operation that they’re somehow stocking grocery chains enough that his dickhead colleagues can just buy it then maybe they’re getting the tomatoes from somewhere else because this tastes different.

                Jesus.

                He can tell the difference.

                Leo will be so proud.

…            …            …

                Bradley reaches for his phone, sliding his thumb across to answer it when he sees Ice’s name pop up. They’re about due for a catchup.

                “Hey Ice.”

                “It’s not Ice. He’s sick again. Please don’t hang up.”

                He doesn’t hang up but he does suddenly sit down, his free hand scrambling for the nearest chair. Vi is looking at him with concern so he figures he’s probably gone pale. Again? What the fuck does Mav mean again?

                “I’m listening,” he croaks out.

                “The cancer is back…”

                Bradley closes his eyes, feels the world tilt and can’t believe that this is the first he’s hearing about it. Fucking Ice and Mav both. There’s Maverick living dangerously and dodging the grim reaper at every turn. And now here is Ice, who quit smoking years ago and yet somehow still inviting death in. He shakes his head, refuses to borrow trouble before he even knows the whole story. It might be different than it was with his mom.

                “How bad?”

                “He’s undergoing some scans right now. I needed to tell you, because… shit. I need to tell you something else as well.”

                “Okay?”

                “Your mom asked me to make sure you never flew.”

                It hits out of the blue.

                The air in his lungs punches out of him and he doesn’t know what to say at that declaration following on from finding out Ice has had cancer and didn’t tell him. He knew there was something that Ice knew, that he’d never felt like he could share with Bradley, and he has no idea what he’d been expecting but this had not been it. What is up with the two men and keeping everything locked down and secret? As the thought skitters through his brain he realizes that’s their entire lives, living under DADT, both of them career Navy. So is Jake of course, but he has five older sisters who have helped mold him into the man he is.

                Well shit.

                “Why now? Why are you telling me now? Why didn’t you tell me back then?”

                “I didn’t want you to resent her!”

                “It wouldn’t have mattered if I had resented a dead woman Mav, it was far worse to be betrayed by someone alive. Who I thought loved me.”

                “I do love you.”

                Bradley’s hands are shaking and he runs his knuckles over his forehead, not sure what he can say or do right now. He wants to go home, so have Silvia fuss over him, to have Leandro make him pasta and push a glass of wine toward him and ask him what he thinks. They’d both be urging him to calm down and he realizes with startingly clarity that if Maverick hadn’t done what he’d done, he’d have never met Silvia and Leandro.

                Oh shit.

                Would he have ever met Jake?

                Thousands of different lives flash through and he forces himself to refocus.

                “I was eighteen Mav…”

                “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I panicked and did the only thing I could think of. Ice was… well. He went after you. Made sure you were okay. Asked the Gallo’s to keep an eye on you. Refused me when I said I wanted you to come back to the States.”

                He had no idea that any of that was going on back then, not about Mav wanting things and Ice denying him, nice to know that that’s even possible. He can only imagine what Ice said, and he desperately wants to talk to him; figures he must be somewhere that he can’t take his phone, given that Mav is calling him using it. And it’s taken Ice getting sick for Mav to finally tell him.

                “You could have told me this years ago. Why didn’t you?”

                The silence at the other end is telling and he takes in several deep calming breaths, waves away Vi’s concerning look when she realized just who he was talking to.

                “I… I didn’t want to admit I was wrong.”

                And there it is. He feels like crying, so lets a few silent tears just slip down his face, which makes Vi flail angrily before she settles at his side awkwardly and wraps her arms around him and there’s another person he wouldn’t have in his life if it had been different.

                “So. I was wrong and I’ve felt that guilt for years and I’m very sorry but… Jesus Bradley. I’m so proud of you. What you’ve accomplished all on your own.”

                “I wasn’t… I wasn’t alone. I didn’t do it on my own,” Bradley says, looking to Vi but also biting back the fact that if he was alone it was because of Mav. He’s still a little angry and bitter, but he also wouldn’t change anything. He’s more than happy with his life.

                “I… I know,” Mav says, voice breaking and he’s pretty sure Mav is also crying. “I’m sorry.”

                He wonders if Ice already knew he was sick again the last time they spoke, when he said with certainty that Maverick would call him. He’s going to have words with him.

                “So. What does Ice need?”

                Then Mav is off, listing a whole range of things and Bradley realizes that Ice doesn’t talk very much anymore, his phone calls with Bradley one of the few times he solely talks. Fucking martyr. He’s definitely going to be having words with him.

                “I never blocked your number Mav. You can call me if you want. I won’t always be able to pick up, but I’ll try to.”

                “I… thank you.”

                “Hmm,” Bradley hums back, because it’s going to take a bit to completely let go of the anger. But he realizes he’s holding onto it out of habit now, rather than actually feeling angry. He doesn’t know if he’s ever going to utter I forgive you when he still really doesn’t understand why Mav did what he did. He guesses he was trying to do what his parents wanted but… well. He sort of has different parents now and they might have entered his life once he was officially an adult, but he feels like he got third time lucky.

THIRTY THREE

[arsenal-womens-1]

I see you in my reflection part 2

Tw: guns school shooting death blood self harm description of death murder panic attack if there’s any I’ve missed sorry

“The bravest thing I ever did was continue my life when I wanted to die.” — Juliette Lewis

“If you love someone, you say it. You say it right then, out loud. Otherwise, the moment just passes you by.” — Mark Sloan

Six hours later, you are on your way back to Leah's. It was just going to be Beth, Viv, you, and Leah having dinner tonight after you’re planning on watching a movie called *The Fallout*. You have no clue what it’s about, but it’s apparently meant to be good. It’s cold outside, not too cold, but still cold. The car comes to a stop. Finally, you get out of the car and run to the door. Leah walks up the stairs as slowly as possible, finally opening the door. You run in, running straight to the kitchen. Leah had agreed to let you help with dinner. It’s called marry me chicken. It takes about 45 minutes to cook.

“Right, get all the ingredients out, and we can start cooking,” Leah says, pulling out all the ingredients: 30 g of plain flour, 4 chicken breasts, 125 g sundried tomatoes in oil (drained and roughly chopped), 3 tbsp oil (reserved), 1 red onion (finely chopped), 3 garlic cloves (crushed or finely grated), ½ - 1 tsp chili flakes (to taste), 2-3 thyme or oregano sprigs (leaves picked), or 1 tsp mixed dried herbs, 150 ml of double cream, 250 ml of chicken stock, 35 g parmesan (grated), 8-10 basil leaves (torn), and lemon wedges.

Halfway through making it, there is a knock at the door before Leah can say anything. You run to the door. Beth and Viv are just standing there. “Come in,” you say, taking off their shoes and coats. You all walk back into the kitchen where Leah is still doing stuff for the food. “How was media day?” You just shrug your shoulders at that.

“Boring, mainly they all ask the same question, just in a different way,” you reply. Beth and Vivian just shake their heads. You have said multiple times that you don’t like media days. This is only the second one you’ve done, but you still have the same opinion: “Yeah, they do that a lot apart from a few, and since you couldn’t do any work today, you need to do a bit more tomorrow.” The only downside of living with Beth and Vivian is that they make you do schoolwork. It’s the most boring thing.“What if I don’t do any more schoolwork?” you ask.

Viv loses it at your shoes, saying that no matter what you are doing, the work is still there.

You just accept your fate. “Can someone call my phone? I’ve lost it. It’s aging.” Leah holds your phone up and says, “Thank you.” Opening your phone, there is a text from your dad.

Dad:

“Hey kid, I know we haven’t spoken in a bit, but I thought I would text you and see how you are doing. Also, Max and Missy want to know if you are going to be home this summer for their birthday.”

You:

“Hey Dad, I’m doing good. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it home this summer, but tell Max and Missy that I miss them and I wish I could be there, but I can’t. I’ll send them presents.”

Dad:

“It’s okay, kid. You don’t have to apologize. I know why you don’t want to come back, but they wanted to know if you were able to come. It’s good to hear that you’re doing well. I have to go. The twins need to be dropped off at your grandma’s house.”

You:

“I’ll text you later. I love you too.”

“Who are you texting?” Leah asks as she finishes cooking.

“My dad was asking if I was going home this summer.” In the time the team had, knowing you’ve only ever said that you lived in America, you dodged any other questions, so at one point they all just left it, seeing that you didn’t want to talk about it before you got there. “Are you going home this summer?” they asked.

“No, I think I’m just going to go to another country,” you told them.

They all nodded. “What country are you thinking of going to?”

You had thought about this a lot. “I was thinking Norway, Sweden, Spain, or the Netherlands. I’ve always wanted to go to those countries.” When you said “Netherlands,” Viv smiled a bit for the next 45 minutes. You all talked for 20 minutes before the food was done. It was time for the movie.

The movie starts with a girl sitting on the toilet. Three minutes later, she walks to the bathroom. Viv and Beth are sitting next to each other, and Leah is in the middle. On the end, exactly seven minutes in, it sounds like a door banging and screaming more. It feels like your heart is about to pound out of your chest. A lump in your throat starts to form.

Blood everywhere, screaming, bullets.

“I can’t breathe.” The second you say that, all three of them are beside you. Vivian lifts you up and places you in her lap. “Copy my breathing pattern.”

“Y/N, I’m scared.” The door slams open.

“They didn’t do anything wrong; it should have been me.” Your breathing isn’t slowing down. “They didn’t deserve it; we were just kids.” Beth is now standing behind you, kind of trapping you like a burrito. “Copy my breathing, kid.” You try your best to copy her breathing, eventually doing so.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your head is still on Vivian’s chest.

“I’m a twin… was a twin. The shock on their faces was something. We were identical. Lucy was 1 minute and 25 seconds older than me. She always would use that or say it was the best time of her life.” Tears were falling down your face. The girls said nothing, so you continued. “When we were 4, we moved from California to New York. Our next-door neighbors had a girl our age. Her name was Lily. She had green eyes, brown hair, and was a little bit taller than us. We became inseparable. We were in the same class. It was grade 6; we were in 4th period English with Miss Cooper. We sat at the back of her class.”

“Today we are learning about Romeo and Juliet.” Lily is to the left of you, and Lucy is to the right. “Lily, give me a pencil; I’ve forgotten mine again.”

“We were 12 minutes into the class when the first shouts could be heard two doors down from us. The screams for help were horrifying. We did everything they said to do. He was down with that class fast. He moved to the one next to us. There was a door connecting both classrooms together. We didn’t barricade it.”

The sound of the door crashing open startles everyone. Before anyone can do anything, he’s shooting randomly all over, and in 2 minutes, he’s gone.

“Lily was on the ground. She was in a pool of blood. He shot her 6 times; 2 of them hit her left lung. I tried to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. Her lungs were filling up with blood. Her beautiful face was covered in blood. She was scared. I could tell because of the way her eyes looked. She would get that look when she was scared. Lucy laid her head on my shoulder. She had been shot once, between her chest and shoulder. I remember Lily’s eyes starting to shut. I remember saying, ‘Come on, Lily, keep your eyes open for me. Keep them open.’ I remember her last words so clearly: ‘Y/N, it’s okay. It’s okay. Go be a superstar, win all the trophies. Don’t give up on your dream.’ There was another round of shots. The color in her eyes was gone. She was gone.”

“No, no, no, Lily, don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” Armed police rush through the door. “Everyone show hands.”

“I don’t really remember much about how I got from the classroom to the ambulance. I remember the paramedic saying that I had been shot 3 times. I didn’t even know that I had been shot. I was in shock. I remember the sirens. I remember them asking questions, getting wheeled into the ER. I was next to Lucy. I remember her heart monitor. I didn’t know what it meant except that she was alive. Within 2 minutes of being there, she flatlined. They tried to get her back, but they couldn’t. 14:25 was her time of death. A piece of the bullet had made its way to her heart. They were dead, and I wasn’t. After that, I turned to self-harm and other things. I wanted to be with them. It wasn’t until about 2 months after it all that it sank in that I had lost my twin sister and my first love in the same day

[stxrryskys]

something I'm cooking up‼️

Me eeee ow

Fuck boy ino! 👅

You can't believe he convinced you to go to some dumb party. Honestly! He comes back to town after completely ghosting you for months and just decides to invite you to a party.. You didn't even have the right to be upset. You guys weren't even dating! He claimed he wasn't ready to.. Be monogamous? You didn't really know but you knew you couldn't say no to him, you mean- hell he's already met your cats! That has to mean something!

You pulled up to the address and you could hear the loud music from down the street. You were supposed it hasn't gotten shut down yet, you opened the door because you felt like it was silly to knock at a party, and, you were greeted with the man who invited you making out with another girl. You didn't have the right to be mad, he wasn't yours anyways, it just pissed you off, you shoved past him to make your presence known and immediately went straight to the kitchen to get a drink

The moment he noticed you he adjusted his beanie and had a big goofy smile on his face when he noticed you

"Hey!! Hey!! Hey-" he got the sense you were ignoring him when be tapped your shoulder and you just continued to drink whatever it is you had, but then he had grabbed your shoulders and forced you to face him

"What's your problem? "

"Problem? I have no problem" you set your drink down and crosses your arms

"Oh? Then why have you been mc frowny pants ever since-"

"I am not being a " mc frowny pants! " you're just annoying! " you cut him off, his stupid nicknames for you pissed you off even more

"Uh huh.. " he grabbed you by the waist and leaned in to kiss you but you dodged his kiss

"What the-

"I'm not going to be doing this. Especially at a party. Not until- " you felt your voice breaking "-not until you tell me where you've been"

He took you guys to a room upstairs to escape the loud music as he explained to you where he was. Once he put his explanation out there he waisted no time trying to touch you

"Ino-" you broke the kiss he brought you in for and spoke lowly "I.. I don't want to do this if you're just gonna leave me again.. "

"Baby.. I'm sorry I didn't text you but.. The whole time, and I mean the WHOLE time, I just wanted to one girl.. My favorite girl" he out his hand up to touch your cheek and leaned in to kiss you again. It caught you off guard but it's the one thing you wanted in the moment so you kissed back

IT'S NOT DONE YET! I KNOW BOO TOMATO TOMATO BUT I'VE BEEN BUSY, I'VE GOT A PLAY COMING UP AND I'VE HAD SO MUCH KISSING WORK FROM WHEN I WAS IN THE HOSPITAL BUT I WILL GET THIS OUT SOON!!

[ivanttakethis]

*taps mic*

If MiziSua and IvanTill’s storylines are meant to be foils of one another, I think Ivan should live to continue the theme of opposite arcs/outcomes—

*dodges rotten tomatoes as the crowd starts booing, someone throws a folding chair*

[freedelusionshere]

Mikey, Cicero, and the mob as a representation of toxic masculinity.

Keep thinking about how Mikey is denigrated by Lee and others in Fishes for trying to come up with side businesses constantly, but to me it reads like someone who desperately wants to go legit but can’t? Same thing with franchising The Beef. Gets him out from owing Cicero or passing on that legacy to Carmy or Sugar. Mikey always has to act tough and untouchable and fake confidence to navigate this, which was probably handed off to him when his father went wherever he went. And it earns him admiration (Mikey was "cool") while internally he's self-destructing. And like Donna, whatever he wanted or dreamed for his life was pushed to the side.

Btw, the name Cicero could be a very “on the nose” reference to a Chicago town that was taken over by Al Capone to protect his territory. Like Capone, Cicero really “owns” The Bear one way or another right from the go. On the surface it appears he has guilt over Mikey’s death, wants to help the Berzatto family, etc.

But the entire time he’s around the family, even in flashbacks like Fishes, he’s trying to talk business in one way or another. Think about him (update: it was Lee, not Cicero, but my point stands, because Lee is also in on this) trying to bring up real estate to Donna in the kitchen (which she tried to beg off) or him jumping in on convos, Richie’s ask for a job, etc. Later all his convos are about money, about how he doesn’t want to take it from them, but he will. Tapping Sugar to handle all the financial stuff for him (I bet it will come out in S4 Donna does that for him on the real estate side).

Here are several other examples:

Mikey hid Cicero’s money away in tomato cans for Carmy to find and Carmy tells Cicero and his reaction? Thank God he didn’t put it in a bank. LOL.

Carmy “joking” in S1 about how he doesn’t want to get his legs broken. (Carmy is portrayed as very straight-and-narrow, not tolerating drugs being sold in the alley outside, and having a strong reaction to Claire admitting she liked to shoplift as a kid).

Richie having a gun to protect the shop and later telling Carmy he’ll come after Cicero if he comes for them.

Richie dealing with the mob associates lingering on the sidewalk outside The Bear, who are obviously conducting business of some kind.

The way The Beef has magically always had just enough money to stay afloat all this time and has things hidden in its walls. The story about Mikey trying to burn it down to collect the insurance money rather than allowing all this to continue when he spiraled.

Claire “joking” about sending Faks to beat up Carmy. I guarantee you there are Faks who do this, the Cena character 100% reads as a body man, you see him physically intimidating his brothers to be "funny".

The sudden presence of The Computer as a numbers guy coming to reconcile Cicero's accounts for someone(s).

Mikey not allowing Carmy to work at The Beef and pushing him away emotionally to make him want to GTFO of dodge.

The partnership agreement that seemingly comes out of nowhere, as Cicero now tries to rope Sydney into the family operation? Which is super triggering for her because she already has trust issues around Carmy as a business partner?

This also plays into the show liking to make references to Shakespeare which had violent family factions who controlled things (Romeo & Juliet being the most obvious) and Michael Mann who often focuses on organized crime in his storytelling.

This is all background noise and not the main driver of the show, but I was curious to see what others think about this and if anyone is noticing all of this? Especially when it comes to the kind of masculinity that is being idolized by characters like the Faks, even though it appears to go against Neil's actual nature.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hiii can I request for sabo, ace and law(you can add more characters if you'd like because I mainly wanted these three<3) where you are sparring and they accidentally touch you inappropriately? With a female!reader please

Thank you so much if you're doing this :D

Your writing is amazing and I've been checking your tumblr daily tbh, keep up the work you're doing great ^^

You check my stuff daily? Thank you so much!

Warnings: inappropriate touching, mentions of male arousal (Ace), scientific explination of breasts

Word Count: 1165

     Facing each other, you couldn’t help but smirk. You both knew each other’s fighting styles, both knew how the other’s body moved, how they typically reacted, how they worked. It meant that you could both push each other, but help each other. Knowing each other’s fighting styles meant that neither of you could use your typical style, you had to improvise, mix things up, and think on your feet. How their body moved, their reach, their strengths and weaknesses, meant that they had to fix the points you’d take advantage of, how to reach further or use their reach against them. It all meant that with each match, you got better, you could do better, that when you met a real enemy, you could be better.

     It had honestly been an accident. He’d been going for an attack when you moved, he’d simply been trying to move with you, to hit you while you attempted to dodge. Now, laying on the ground, unmoving, eyes wide, he wished he hadn’t. The young man quickly scrambled off of you, immediately standing up and looking away.

Sabo

     His cheeks were bright red as he looked away.

     “S-Sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to. I uh, here, let me help you up.” he said, looking away as he held out his hand. You couldn’t help but cover your breasts as you took his hand, the blond quickly and easily hoisting you up. Neither of you could look at each other, your faces bright red as you stood there awkwardly. 

     “I uh, th-thanks for sparring with me, I… I always learn a lot from you.” you muttered, still covering your chest. You swore you could still feel his gloved hand over your breast, the way he touched you as you both fell to the ground. His strong arms pinning you to the ground as you both tried to process what had just happened. You both fidgetted nervously as you stood there, not sure what to do or say. It wasn’t like either of you were innocent to the ways of the world. You knew this kind of stuff happened and you’d had passionate make out sessions where his hands had groped your ass. You knew it had been an accident, that he hadn’t meant for any of it, but that being said, this was in public and had been a little more than just his hands on your butt. 

     “So uh, let’s um… end early today, I uh… could use some lunch.” Sabo muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

     “Yeah, that… that sounds great.” you said, the both of you heading inside awkwardly. You hesitantly took his hand, giving a light squeeze as you looked away. You wanted him to know that, no matter what happened, you weren’t upset.

Ace

     The two of you stood there, as if frozen in place. You stood in front of him, his arms wrapped around you, one wrapped around your arms and stomach, the other still placed on your breast, the both of you redder than tomatoes. He’d just been practicing his hand to hand combat. He used his devil fruit powers so often that he wanted to work on his basic abilities. Nothing more, nothing less. Feeling the soft plush of your breast hadn’t been his intention. All he’d wanted was to put you in a hold, one arm around your stomach, pinning your arms to your side and another around your shoulder. Held tightly to him as he whispered in your ear, enjoying feeling you in his arms while still training. Ace slowly let go of you, as if he wasn’t certain if he should let you go or not. To be honest, he was still fairly stunned, his brain having short circuited the moment his hand had grabbed the soft, squishy orb. Being a healthy 20 year old, he’d seen bare ones before in magazines, heard how soft and squishy they could feel, had felt them pressing against his bare chest as he held you close in a passionate kiss. But none of it could have prepared him for actually feeling it in his hand, for the way it felt under his fingers, how it felt so perfect, it was so…. You eyes widened as your head whipped around to face him, unable to do much more than stare at him.

     “S-sorry, I… I didn’t mean to… I just…” Ace mumbled, unsure what to say as he looked away from you.

     “I-I understand… it was an accident… you um… I’ll see you at lunch?” you asked, looking away from him. Ace just nodded quietly, heading towards his room, hands stuffed in his pants, hoping nobody noticed how his loose shorts bulged.

Law

     The young doctor cleared his throat as he moved away from you, pulling his hat down to cover his blush. As a doctor, the female anatomy was nothing new. Subcutaneous fat filled orbs containing mammary glands necessary for feeding infants until said child was ready to eat solid foods. The glands all lead to the nipple, a sensitive bud that an infant suckled from, often an errogenous zone that brought women pleasure or could be so sensitive as to cause pain. These orbs would often swell when a woman lactated, the mammary glands filling and flowing with milk that would nourish the newborn. That being said, while such things were simple bodily functions, basic anatomy that every doctor knew and ‘nothing to be ashamed of’, he still found himself extremely embaressed and bright red at what had happened. You took a few steps back, trying to calm your racing heart and bright red cheeks down. It was an accident, he hadn’t meant to, you kept repeating this in your head in an attempt to calm yourself, only succeeding in fidgetting nervously. 

     “It was a simple accident. Nothing to be ashamed of. As a doctor, I’ve studied the human anatomy and seen plenty of bodies.” Law said in an attempt to shake off the embarressment. Not that it actually worked as you both continued to stand there silently, not really sure what to do next. You just nodded, staring down at your feet.

     “W-why don’t I go make us a snack? W-we trained pretty hard today, we deserve a small snack.” you said before hurrying towards the kitchen, anything to escape the moment and the embarressment. Law sighed, taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to look at you for a week after what just happened and the moment would probably replay itself in his mind over and over again. Looking down at his hand, he swore he could still feel your breast in his hand, how it felt against his tattooed fingers. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye without turning bright red for a while, no matter what he told himself in an attempt to calm himself down.

[ange1sang]

snail shells

3.3k words, mickey-centric/gallavich

; canon compliant, milkovich family + growing up milkovich, domestic violence/childhood abuse, hurt/comfort, angst, domestic fluff, memories, boys in love, growing up + getting older, trauma, happy ending, puking mentioned in passing

summary: how mickey milkovich goes from crushing snails beneath his boots to peeling them off of his husband's tomato plants.

The earliest memory Mickey has is of his mother screaming. He doesn't remember why she was screaming (though it isn't too hard to guess why) and he barely remembers what her voice sounded like when she spoke anymore, but he remembers her screaming like he was born with the sound engraved in his brain. Something about it makes his skin crawl, because there was never any point in screaming in the Milkovich house – nobody was going to come to your aid, so you either fought back or locked yourself in the bathroom until whoever was after you gave up. Under their roof it was always fight or flight. Freeze would have you beaten half to death and fawn didn't work with people who would happily wear your blood like a glove. Then again, most of his early memories make his skin crawl.

His uncles beating each other till bone cracked, loud and sickening while white trash reality TV droned on in the background. Hiding from a drunk Terry under the bed at his aunt's house when he was a toddler. Holding Mandy in his lap when she was still tiny, sucking on her hair and crying silently for a mommy who wasn't planning on coming home any time soon. Looking at his ears in the mirror, swollen and bruised black and blue, and not understanding why none of the other kids in his class ever looked as dirty or hurt as him. There are few memories from his childhood that don't involve grime or alcohol or injury, almost everything from that period overshadowed by the primal need to survive in a world that could've cared less if he made it to his next birthday. And even the handful of memories that aren't smeared with blood are coated in something bitter and sour and ugly.

Like when he was six years old and staying at his aunt's with Mandy, courtesy of a broken nose he'd gotten when one of his older cousins had shoved him out of the way without looking and he'd landed face first on the kitchen table. He remembers being mean and sharp even back then, because he had to be. To be soft meant being crushed beneath other's heels, and he couldn't afford to be crushed. Not now that he had Mandy to look out for – Mandy who was just a year younger than him but still younger, still a girl with pudgy cheeks and a bottom lip that quivered when their dad yelled. Still his little sister, living in a house full of burly, drunk men.

At his aunt's, though, he could afford to lose some of his mean edge. He could giggle at the cartoons on the TV without being told to shut up and could tug on his aunt's sleeve when he was hungry or thirsty without recoiling in fear of being smacked upside the head. He didn't have to survive in the same way that he did at home, which is why he found himself sitting on the porch watching snails and slugs trail slime on the concrete while rain pitter-pattered onto the steps.

Back at home he liked to kill insects, liked to swat at them with his hands or drown them in the kitchen sink, thought it was funny how their spindly legs flailed and their bodies squished under his thumb. Here he liked to just watch them, grubby fingers curled around his throbbing nose while he absentmindedly picked at the thick scab on the bridge of it. He liked the pattern on the snails' shells, liked how their eyes stuck out of their heads and moved around in the air. He was fascinated by how slowly they moved. At home he was always running – running to get out, running to dodge a fist – and at school he was always running too, getting away from teachers before he got caught pulling another kid's hair or slamming their arm with a locker door. He never got to move as calmly as the snails did, drag on the pavement like he had all the time in the world. He sat for what felt like hours and watched the snails with wide, envious eyes, flicking bits of bloody scab and skin onto the ground below him.

There was one snail, smaller than the others with a pinkish brown shell, that was moving particularly slowly. While the others carried on on their paths to nowhere in particular this one stopped every now and then, eyes waving around like it was trying to talk to Mickey. He reached out to poke it with a bloody finger, giggling when its eyes curled back into its body. If he didn't know better he would've picked it up and taken it inside, put it on the living room floor and watched to see if it would eat any of their Pop-Tart and cornflake crumbs. But his aunt wouldn't like that, so he stayed outside with it, waiting patiently for it to reach the edge of the porch and disappear into the grass.

He was so focused on the snail and the trail of slime it was leaving behind that he didn't notice Iggy stomping up the steps towards him, at least not until he stepped right on the snail, crushing its patterned shell beneath his heavy hand-me-down boot, hanging from his foot like a clown shoe.

"Iggy!" he yelled, eyes filling with angry tears, but it was too late. The other boy lifted his shoe and the snail was nothing but a pancake of slime and smashed up shell. It was never going to reach the grass now.

"C'mon, Joey's gonna get us KitKats from the Kash 'n Grab," Iggy said, all toothy grin and snotty nose. He didn't notice that he'd just stepped on the snail that Mickey had been watching all afternoon. Mickey wanted to run back inside and sit with Mandy and cry, because she was the only one who didn't mind if he cried. But he knew better than to do something like that, knew better than to wear his heart on his sleeve even if he was too little to know what was making his heart was twist and ache in his chest. He punched Iggy in the shoulder, narrowly escaping a punch back.

"Fuck you," he barked, barely knowing the meaning of the words but knowing that they were always appropriate in their family. As they raced each other to the corner store, kicking rocks at each other and yelling curse words back and forth, he could've sworn with each footstep he felt a snail shell cracking beneath the soles of his busted up shoes.

The only real rays of sunshine that broke through the clouds of growing up Milkovich appeared when he turned fifteen years old. Smoking outside of the Kash and Grab, bruised and filthy thanks to Terry and their overdue water bills, he spotted a new face among the shelves of the cornerstore. The redheaded Gallagher kid was in there, stacking cans of soup, freckled face laughing at something a customer was telling him, and Mickey felt his heart swell in a dangerous, nauseating way.

He wanted to crush the Gallagher kid then and there, enraged by the warm feeling in his chest. At the same time he wanted to stand there and watch him until the store closed, wanted to watch him meandering about those shelves in no rush at all, moving slow like the snails did outside of his aunt's house years ago, when he was still small enough to run from home calling for help. In the end he did neither of those things. He threw his half-smoked cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, even though he'd never cared about doing anything like that before, if only to feel something give out beneath his foot. It didn't get rid of the mushy feeling in his chest at all.

He quickly learned that there was almost nothing he could do to get rid of that mushy feeling he got around the ginger Gallagher. It didn't help when he beat on Kash or stole things from the corner store when he knew Gallagher would see him. It didn't help when he stayed past closing and caught Gallagher on his tiptoes kissing his boss, and it certainly didn't help when Mandy came home crying that Ian Gallagher (the redhead had a first name now – Ian) had groped her. So Mickey did the only thing he knew how to do. He beat up Kash and he beat up Lip, every punch and kick bringing with it a fiery dissatisfaction. Nothing he did would get rid of the stupid somersaults his heart kept doing every time someone mentioned the Gallagher kid, every time he walked past the blue house on North Wallace, every time he and his cousins went down to the Kash and Grab to snatch something to eat before their stomachs started growling again.

And then he beat up Ian. Or at least, he tried to.

One second he'd been sleeping and the next Ian Gallagher's head was between his thighs, pressed down into his worn, soiled mattress. And Ian was blinking up at him, bracing himself for a crowbar to the head. He blinked slow, his eyes muddy green-blue like rain pitter-pattering on snail slime. He was breathing heavy. There was a bruise forming on his cheekbone already, underneath his freckles. He had a lot of freckles, Mickey thought to himself. Way more now that he could see him up close. And just like that the mushy feeling eased up, turned into something he could hold. Something more scary than it used to be, but also more tolerable.

Mickey liked Ian. He liked Ian a lot. Liked his sideways, crooked smile and how he saw the good in everybody all the time. He liked how good he was to Mandy, liked how he took cigarettes from between Mickey's fingers like it was nothing so that they could share, liked the way his muscles moved beneath his skin and how warm his blood ran, his touch always searing Mickey's skin like he was branding his palm print into the space between Mickey's shoulderblades. He was sweet like orange soda, sarcastic and quick like a butterfly knife. He was soft where Mickey was sharp, and while that would've scared Mickey when he was fifteen by the time he was seventeen all it did was make his heart jump and his cheeks burn. That might've been why he let his guard down.

Rays of sunshine turned to dark, thick clouds quicker than Mickey ever could've anticipated. All it took was one poorly timed afternoon, one unlocked door, Ian's hands on his shoulders and a Russian hooker who would come to know him better than most people he'd ever meet.

In that one afternoon it became clear that those soft edges he loved on Ian had rubbed off on him, and all they had done was make it easier for Terry to dig his teeth deeper into the parts of him that mattered. All of the things he liked about Ian translated to nothing more than vulnerability in the end. Mickey wanted to hate him for it. It would've made his life easier, to shut out the reason he'd turned so soft. But all he did was hate himself.

The years he'd spent growing out of his bony elbows and teary eyes were thrown out of the window like they meant nothing after that afternoon. He was just a kid again, locked out of the house and dizzy from a too-hard smack to the head, but now he couldn't run crying to his aunt or hide out in the bathroom until Terry forgot about him. Terry wasn't ever going to forget, and if Mickey wasn't careful he'd get himself killed. Or worse, he'd get Ian killed.

Ian, his sister's best friend who never knew when to shut up about his fucking feelings. Ian who always smiled at him like they'd never done anything wrong in their whole shitty, South Side lives. Ian, who still made his heart squeeze and flip-flop even after Terry tried to pistol-whip that feeling out of him. Ian, bruised and bleeding on the ground telling Mickey to admit he was gay. Pleading for him to admit it just this once, pleading even after taking a fist to the stomach.

"Feel better now?" he asked, bleeding where Mickey's fist had broken the skin on his forehead. "Feel like a man?"

Mickey wanted to scream. Scream because nothing was going to make him feel better. Scream because Terry was always going to ruin anything his kids could get their hands on, and because he was stupid to think he could've held Ian without hurting him in the process. He wasn't sure that those were the words that would come out if he opened his mouth though. He was terrified on his own tongue and lips, terrified that they'd tell Ian something else, something fleshy and fragile instead. Something that could bleed.

His boot made a nauseating sound when it hit the side of Ian's head, blood flying across the gravel beneath them. A sound Mickey knew well from the Milkovich house. All of the warmth in his chest turned sour, rising in his throat like acid.

"I feel better now," he taunted as he walked away, his throat straining around the lie. Thunder rumbled loud in Mickey's ears, sounding an awful lot like his own racing, mangled heart.

He didn't turn back to look at Ian, didn't want to see his lips slick with blood instead of spit, didn't want to see the damage he'd done and how similar it looked to the kind of damage his father was so good at leaving behind. He wasn't ten steps away when he felt the crush beneath one of his shoes, the same one he'd kicked Ian with. A snail shell, turned to mush beneath his muddy, bloody sole. Everything in him screamed to stop and look, look at the life he'd destroyed with just one step. But he didn't. He couldn't, not without seeing himself in the shiny, sharp shell fragments.

He kicked off his shoes when he got home and locked himself in his room with a bottle of vodka. It didn't help. He could still feel the snail stuck to the bottom of his foot, broken and dead. He swallowed a mouthful of liquor and puked it right back up into his laundry basket. Ian's blood was on his knuckles when wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He could taste it as he sucked on his bottom lip like a teething kid.

He was a Milkovich through and through. He was just like Terry.

That feeling stuck around for far longer than he'd expected it to. Even after Ian came back to him, Mickey could feel it beneath his skin, sick and unclean. Each time he and Ian bickered, each time the redhead's muddy eyes turned sad, Mickey felt that snail's shell giving way beneath his foot. He was going to crush him again. The only boy he'd ever liked, let alone loved. Whether or not he wanted to he was going to dig his teeth into his soft spots and draw blood and hurt him. He was sure of it. And yet, he never did.

When Ian cried now Mickey didn't make it worse. He didn't make him bleed or bruise. He dried his cheeks and kissed his forehead, thumbs always hesitant, always scared that he was going to do what he'd been raised to do. And all Ian did was lean his face further into Mickey's touch, trusting him over and over again not to pull him limb from limb. Love was made up of a lot of that, Mickey eventually learned. Trusting, again and again and again. Trusting Ian not to drop his hand when things went awry. Trusting himself not to aim for the jugular when he felt vulnerable. Trusting the Gallaghers not to turn into Milkoviches when they'd had one too many drinks. Trusting as many people as he could, as often as he could, because even if his first memory was of his mother screaming there were better memories to be made. Better memories to build his life out of now.

Like how the morning light fills his and Ian's bedroom in their apartment on the West Side. Orange and warm, filtering through the gaps through their curtains and illuminating the freckles on Ian's chest. Most days Ian is awake before him, but on the days that he isn't Mickey gets to watch his husband sleeping, count every breath and every freckle if he wants to.

The first thing Ian does when he wakes up is smile. He's always been smiley, even when they were fucking in the back of a corner store and Mickey smelled like cow shit, but Mickey still hasn't gotten used to the butterflies it gives him, the way it eases the weight of the world on his shoulders. Then he kisses Mickey, like it's the easiest thing in the world, like they didn't fight tooth and nail for ten years to be able to do it. Then, he goes out onto their balcony and checks on the plants he's been growing.

He's always been gentler than most people, vulnerable and trusting in a way that reminds Mickey of Mandy and in a way that he sees in Debbie everyday. Mickey's always known this, but seeing how Ian handles fragile leaves and stems between his big fingers reminds him again that he's married to somebody soft. Somebody fleshy, who bleeds just like him.

Most of the time Mickey just watches him garden from afar, not interfering with the plants he knows nothing about, but every now and then he spots a bug crawling along a stem and he kneels down beside Ian to flick it away, watching with a smile as it scrambles to find its footing again. On even rarer occasions, he spots a snail gliding along the leaves of one of the plants, usually after a night of rain. He's always confused as to how they get up to their balcony, especially with how slowly they move, and he's always fascinated by the glistening trail of slime they leave behind. He guesses he'll always be that hurt little kid sitting on his aunt's porch, cradling his broken nose and waiting for the small snail with the pinkish brown shell to make it to the safety of the tall, untended grass.

He also knows that he's older now, that he doesn't have to watch somebody crush the snail with their big hand-me-down boots and that he isn't going to misstep and kill it by mistake, leaving behind a pancake of shell and flesh and slime. Now he gets to reach out and pick up the snail by its shell, snorting when its eyes recoil into its body, and carefully set it aside onto the wall of their building. He waits to make sure its got a grip on the wall before he lets go, and watches it slowly (so, so slowly) begin to make its way to a different destination.

When he turns around Ian is watching him with a fond smile that makes Mickey's ears burn.

"What're you lookin' at?" he asks, all faux-defensiveness as the mushy feeling he's known since he was fifteen fills his chest. Ian nearly always replies in the same way, just as enamored every time.

"My husband," he says, grinning at Mickey.

It's a simple memory, one that's taken place enough times that it should be mundane by now. It's still one of Mickey's favourite memories, one that overshadows all of the bitter and sour and ugly ones from his childhood. He kisses Ian, like it's the easiest thing in the world. Like they didn't fight tooth and nail for ten years to be able to do it, because everything he's been through was worth it in the end.

[itjazzbicch]

New Motivation

Pairing: Magna Swing x Reader 

First time writing for Magna so I hope I did well! 

Summary: Wanting to get stronger so Magna can win in a sparring session against Luck, he challenges his best friend, the reader, who has gravity magic, not thinking he's improving, but the reader knowing he is, giving him new motivation to get even stronger...

Warnings:  Slight Swearing, and just fluff! 🥰

Word Count: .08k

"I don't plan on taking it easy on you, Magna!" I was all smiles, but dead serious while opening my grimoire, ready for this little sparring session.

"I don't either!" He spat cockily, readying himself, "If I can take you down, I'll definitely get Luck next time!"

I rolled my eyes at his comment about Luck. All they knew how to do was fight one another, but Magna was my best friend and if sparring with him made him stronger, I had no problem sparring.

"Sure about that?" Using my gravity magic, the fireball he had formed in his hand started to fall to the ground along with the rest of his body.

"Hey! I didn't say go!"

"So?!" I laughed, turning my back, thinking I had already won, "Too easy, Magna!"

"Just who are you laughing at-" Groaning through his words, I turned my head to the side to see fire, flame blinding me, grazing the side of my face, searing my hair at the ends a little, "HUH, Y/N?!"

He shouldn't be able to stand upright with how I was manipulating the gravity, let alone throw fire like it was some toddlers play ball.

"Want more?" Fixing my hair and walking over, "Let's see if you can dodge these!"

Creating a small zone of mana, my gravity magic allowed me to move quicker and made me more agile, so I could save stamina, but for Magna? He was tripping over his own two feet, just barely able to stand and dodge my punches.

"WOAH!" He squealed, noticing how fast they were coming, "HOLD UP A SECOND!"

"If you could throw a fireball, you can throw punches!" I didn't slow down, he was slowly improving so I added more pressure, so he could mold under the heat.

"Is this a mana zone?!" He didn't know for sure because I never told anyone about my mana zone. Not too many people that I knew who were our age, were capable of such things.

"Yeah, you're one of two who's seen! Congratulations!" Now I was growing annoyed, holding back a punch that he went to dodge, sweeping him off his feet next, placing my foot on his chest as his back hit the ground, "Now, are you going to shut up and focus or not?"

Staring at the sky with frustration in his eyes, he quickly covered his face with his hair falling, backhanding the ground, over and over:

"Damn it! I'm never gonna be strong like you guys!"

"Magna, look at me," I said softly, keeping our gaze locked as he only peeked through his fingers, dropping and sitting on top of him, taking his hands away so he'd look at me, "You are strong and if you talk bad about yourself again, I'm actually going to kick your ass."

His cheeks were red like tomatoes, eyes hiding behind his bangs as he murmured, "But I'm not. I can't do anything alone. I'll never beat you or Luck."

"You're the second person who's been in my mana zone, and the only one who was able to move in it. You know that?"

Finding my gaze again, his expanding pupils showed his shock, growing teary when I also noted:

"You also caught me off guard with that fireball."

Showing the slight burn on my cheek, proved how close he was to getting a direct hit, but the sight made him panic:

"Oh, crap! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"Shush," Putting my finger over his lip, my smile showed that I was fine, trying to raise his spirit, "It stings a little, but I'll live. This is about you. You are strong, Magna. And if you can move and fight in my mana zone? Just a little bit more practice and you'll kick Luck's ass, and maybe kick mine."

He was still conflicted with his emotions, trying to hide his voice as he wiped at his eyes:

"I wish."

"You're stronger than you know," I cooed, taking his hands away again, seeing how quickly his chest was heaving when my head fell, kissing him softly.

Struck with a good shock, he was frozen, then melted when he kissed back, interlocking our hands, still going for more when I picked my head up.

"What? Want another kiss?" I teased, leaning back down as he nodded, stopping right before our lips touched again, "Beat Luck and you'll get another one."

"You're cruel," He pouted, making me laugh and feel a little guilty:

"Alright, fine. One more."

Pouring more passion into this one, I was hoping that my kiss would not only let him know that I believed in him but also, encourage him to keep getting stronger.

He held my hands even tighter, panting when I gave one last peck before pulling away, "And I'll even change my little offer. Beat Luck and we can go on a date. How's that sound?"

"I'm gonna beat the crap out of him," He panted, as serious as ever, the look of seriousness making me laugh:

"That's a fight I'm looking forward to watching." 

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