#THANK YOU FOR DRAWING HIM RED. I HAD A FEELING HES GONNA LOOK EVEN MORE HATER LIKE IN YOUR ART STYLE

[bruhstation]

He's such a magnificent bastard I am pushing him down the stairs.

The “L” hand pose good lord. no holding back…. no mercy….. the utter disrespect is insane. so cold. this picture encapsulates the core of Casa Tidmouth spencer

[e-vay]

His Lucky Star

Awhile ago I asked for sonamy headcanons (and I’m always hungry for more!) and I received the most beautiful headcanon from @hedgethemaze and I just had to illustrate it!

Thank you @hedgethemaze for the opportunity to draw your short story 😊

You can read Hedge’s original headcanon below the cut:

Sonic and Amy’s favorite nighttime pastime is stargazing 🌙​⭐​🌠​👀​

Amy enjoys making out constellations and discovering new figures drawn in the sky and would occasionally make up stories with them – She knows Sonic finds this a bit childish, but appreciates that he doesn’t let it show and listens to her stories, instead (even participating once in a while, throwing in some action to keep them from being too daydream-y lol).

Sometimes, looking at the stars would remind Sonic of Starfall Islands – of cyber space – of Amy being at arm's length yet, an entire plane of existence out of his reach. The thought makes him reach for her hand as they lay on their backs on the grass, with a whole new appreciation for the feel of her hand nestled in his - Amy, aware of the gnawing memory, would shift her hand and intertwine their fingers, successfully chasing the memory away.

And some other times, she’d say those stories are just bedtime-story-practice to tell their 'future' child/children, only to tease him because there’s nothing as amusing to her as watching Sonic go from cool blue to cherry red live in record time 😆

About stargazing - it occurred to me that it could be more than likely for Sonamy to catch sight of a shooting star.

Well, I imagine Sonic would notice Amy staring at the shooting star in silence, knowingly waiting for her to say something but then the star disappears from view and he'd say "huh... kinda thought you were gonna wish something for a sec,"

Amy, realizing what he means, would jump a little on her spot next to him, they'd still be holding hands, but she scooches over and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Oh! Well, actually," she rubs her cheek on his shoulder and her grip on his hand tightens "I have everything I could wish for already."

Sonic notes she's got her eyes closed, now more interested in the warmth their bodies are sharing amidst the nightly breeze. Sonic blushes, hoping in vane she doesn't notice his body getting warmer at her statement.

"What about you? Don't you have any wishes?" Amy is genuinely curious (she can feel his awkwardness, so she doesn't tease him 'this time').

Sonic looks away, the hand that's not being held by Amy scratches a very reddish cheek, taking a deep breath to cool himself, "Nah..." the shyness quickly evaporating from his voice and he braves returning her gesture by, ever so slightly, snuggling against the top of her head. Leaving Starfall in the past, to focus on the present, Sonic's already made up his mind. "I'm good, Ames."

[sunny-knight]

@forgettable-au FAN ANIMATION ! LOUD NOISE WARNING!

*What was it all for…?

Song: Vishnu <3 by Peter Cat Recording Co.

…okay.

The main inspiration for this…can be summed up with I LOVE HOW SAD THIS CONCEPT IS. BUT i also adore how WEIRD it is.

This whole thing must be pretty weird and creepy for the characters right??? Like- we dont know for certain what EXACTLY is gonna happen, but we know for a fact that Wingdings finds out hes in a game, then kills himself so he can be closer with god-

THATS PRETTY WEIRD 😭😭 also sad but we can ignore that for now

I also experimented a tad with this in working with silence, so timing things at my own pace! It was really hard! I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!

But, time for my FAVORITE PART….ANALYSIS!!!

DISCLAIMER: some things stated as fact haven’t been said in the blog/arent canon to the au itself, just my animation/theories/interpretation, cause i’m silly and headcanoning :3

TITLE:

The proper title ive given this is “To You” which means 2 different and very vague things. What happened to you? and sending a message like “this is To You”.

In that case, “you” is whichever version of Papyrus/Wingdings/Gaster you want- Its not exactly clear which version of him means “you” which is kinda the point. The lines blur together sometimes…

But yeah, Gaster/crazy WD sends messages TOO himself so they’re “To You”

CONTEXT

Wingdings has JUST turned himself into Gaster. Ignore how impossible Sans interacting with him in this moment is, and just hear me out on the angst possibilities-

SCENE 1

As Sans approaches the mess- Gaster is encased in shadow, and looks at him. Expression not telling much- just looking blankly. Doesn’t even look like he’s alive… just… moving. Also the eye thats open, is just a slit. because- perspective. BUT I also had fun putting that there and going hehehehe it looks like WD/Papyrus’ eye

Sans approaches, and getting engulfed in the shadow, leaving the light.

His expression here was REALLY fun and REALLY hard to draw. Angry? maybe. stunned and terrified? DEFINITELY.

In this context (that doesn’t have a lot to go off of with the comics, YET) Sans knows that this was all very much intentional. He absolutely does not want to be angry, and is certainly only feeling it subconsciously.

But… he wanted so badly to understand, and enter his brother world. But now, Sans is just… Baffled. Hes like “what the fuck did you do???”

SCENE 2

Gaster continues to look blank. Looking up at Sans as he approaches, encasing him in even more shadow.

Sans’ hand reaches to Gasters face. From Sans’ perspective, his intentions are like checking for a pulse. Not literally ofc cause pulses arent on our face- but like, feeling for him. For a sign that something is there. (It’s also meant to be something motherly/comforting)

But then, Gaster leans into the touch, somewhat reciprocating this wordless “ive got you” gesture. That’s what makes Sans go from Terrified to just purely grief stricken. His brother is still alive. And he loves him.

But this form wont last for long…For universe fixing screw ups reasons :D 👍

SCENE 3

Gaster then opens his eyes, revealing hes even still got eye lights available for him. Thats what just SHATTERS the dam, and Sans embraces him suddenly.

SCENE(S) 4

Then, the “reset” happens, Gaster is gone, and Papyrus appears in place of Wingdings in his bed.

Nothing is boiling to add to a “frozen in terror” feeling!

Now- drawing all of the differences between the past and present rooms. DESTROYED ME. i HAD SO MUCH FUN BUT I ALSO CRIED 😭 There are no thank-you letters to santa, no racecar bed, no silly bone painting, no action figures, just BORING

I also wanted to keep everything monochromatic, so ofc we’ve got black and white for the void/Gaster, blue for Sans, red for Papyrus, and purple for Sans and Papyrus together.

The tape recorder and lab coat are still greyscale though cause Wingdings still has SOME of his stuff lying around. But the tapes are indecipherable, and Papyrus threw out that lab coat the first chance he got. It gave him the absolute worst feeling, worse than anything he’s ever experienced.

Something I also really enjoy is the fact that the dress shirts were still technically Wingdings’ but they’re red for Papyrus. The lab coat is the only real WINGDINGS thing that Papyrus wants absolutely no part in. Some things that were Wingdings’ are now Papyrus’ cause :D👍

in place of the bone painting are just family photos that I also have extra to say about. Someday I wanna make a comic of what happened to those/what I think would happen to em.

One day Papyrus is like “HEY UH- SANS! THESE PHOTOS! I DON’T LIKE LOOKING AT THEM! CAN WE NOT!?” Aka, he doesn’t remember these things happening/these photos being taken… BUT THEYRE PHOTOS OF HIM.

So he just feels really uncomfortable looking at memories he should reasonably remember, but doesn’t at all- and Sans gets that. But he keeps em in his drawer. Then! they hung up the bone thing in place of it cause SILLY!

But the family photos, I still had fun with. From left to right theyre a photo of Semi with the twins, the twins as baby bones, then as slightly older kids, then WDs graduation photo.

CONCLUSION!

This entire thing was so much fun, and I feel i’ve really grown as an artist over the process of experimenting and not being knocked down by annoying setbacks,

Also, as usual, Works In Progress’ plus extra behind the scenes stuff will be posted shortly after this!! YIPPEEE!!! HAPPY NIGHTMARES!!!!!

OHHHH ALSO EXTRA ART!!!

“AREN’T THEY BEAUTIFUL?”

That silly moment when your clone is really weirdly obsessed with stars and enthusiastically holds your eye sockets open to show you them

[talaok]

The carpet

pairing: Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

Summary:��You and your husband Pedro prepare for a red carpet, but once you're there you have a wardrobe malfunction, luckily, he's there to help.

Warnings: just so much fluff for no reason

a/n: i havent written something for Pedro that wasnt a request in literally 9 months, but guess what the hyperfixation is hyperfixating lately and I just needed to write down what i've been daydreaming about all day.

"wow" he exhaled, closing the door behind him, his eyes trained on you.

You chuckled, looking at him from the mirror, as a choked "aww" escaped Linda, your make-up artist's, lips at the reaction.

You gave her a look and she just grinned, checking her work one final time before whispering "Seeing you two is better than watching any rom-com, I can't even remember the last time my Mark looked at me like that", making you laugh once more with a playful roll of your eyes.

"you look stunning sweetheart" Pedro breathed, right behind you now, his hands already on your waist

Another dreamy sigh fell out of Linda's lips before she decided it was time for her to go.

"i'll go wait downstairs then... leave you two lovebirds some time alone," she said, excitement piercing through her tone as if she was watching her daughter walk down the aisle.

"thank you Linda, we'll be down in a moment" You nodded, smiling sincerely at her as she started for the door.

But just when a foot was already out into the hallway, she turned around, a serious expression on her all of a sudden.

"And Pedro" she shot him a look "Just this once, try not to mess her lipstick up too much, will ya?" 

You couldn't help but laugh, loudly, wholeheartedly, but Pedro, ever so honest only answered with a "I can't make any promises Linda", before the poor woman groaned and shut the door behind her.

Just as the soft thud of the motion bumped from wall to wall, Pedro turned you around in one swift motion, getting to see your pretty face better.

"hi there" you smiled, placing your hands on his chest, softly playing with the hem of his tuxedo's jacket.

"hello sugar" he grinned, letting his eyes drink in all of you.

"You look handsome" you murmured, your right hand going to his face, feeling the soft stubble of his beard graze your palm.

"mhhh" he hummed, leaning closer already, much to Linda's disappointment "Well you know how it is... if my lady's gonna be the most beautiful woman on the red carpet I gotta step up my game"

You huffed out a laugh 

"'s that right?"

"need to at least try and look like you're not miles out of my league" he cocked an eyebrow, his hands on your waist pushing you flush against him.

"You're a bad man Pedo Pascal" you stifled a smirk "A bad, bad man" you whispered as his lips finally met with yours.

They were softer than usual, but heavenly just the same. 

His hold tightened on you and you melted right into his arms, whimpering weakly into his mouth, before after what was probably a good two minutes, he pulled away.

"we gotta go" you murmured

"I know" he groaned, half-heartedly leaning away.

And as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, you couldn't help but chuckle, as your gaze fell to your lips.

"Oh Linda's gonna be pissed"

__ __ __

the carpet was booming tonight,

celebrities filled every inch of the crimson rug, and the flashes of the countless cameras pointed at you were so strong you swore they would have blinded you if you weren't so used to them.

You were posing to show off the gorgeous dress you were lucky enough to be wearing, and once you had exhausted all the poses you knew, you turned to your husband on the left as he offered you his hand, which you took with a smile, walking to his spot and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek the photographers seemed more than a little enthusiastic about.

But as you posed together, his arm on your back drawing soothing circles, an almost inaudible pop made its way to your ears, and all the sudden some pressure was gone from your chest, and when you looked down... when you looked down the button that was holding the two pieces of fabric covering your boobs had popped, and said fabric was starting to fall.

"oh my god" you blurted, but before you could do anything, your reflexes slowed down by the shock, Pedro's hand found your chest, salvaging the falling pieces of the dress.

"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to say, or do as he moved in front of you, his broad build doing a hell of a good job of shielding you from the photographers

"I was about to flash so many people" you finally breathed, your voice faint.

"yeah" he said, trying, really trying to suppress the chuckle down his throat, but failing miserably "Yeah you were sweetheart" he laughed softly, his hand still holding your dress.

"are you- don't laugh!" you gasped, although with one look at your face, you could feel a bubble of laughter making its way up your thoat "It's not funny" you smiled, chuckling too now.

"no" he shook his head, sarcasm spilling out of his every pore " there's nothing remotely funny about this sugar, absolutely" he smiled, making you want to roll your eyes

"hold the dress for a sec" he said, having you do just that as he took his jacket off and instead, put it on you.

"thank you" you smiled, looking up at him.

"you just worry about keeping that jacket closed" he murmured, kissing your cheek "I've already seen too many men's eyes wondering a bit too much"

"oh shut up" you laughed, rolling your eyes as he escorted you off what must have been the worst red carpet of your life.

"Whatever you say flash" he laughed, obviously very proud of his own joke

"god I hate you so much" you sighed, smiling widely into his chest nonetheless.

[sinsirellaxx]

Please can you write more about Tom making Reader do an unbreakable vow like you mentioned in the Slytherin boys when they actually fall for you headcanons? I really like how you write him, you don’t hide away from the fact that he’s always gonna be some degree of toxic even if he’s head over heels for you and I find it so interesting! Xx

Tom Riddle – The Unbreakable Vow

Warning: Tom Riddle being the deepest shade of red. Not proofread.

A/N: Thank you so much! I'm glad you like my interpretation of Tom! I simply cannot see him as anything but toxic. 🙈

Hope you like it!

The first time he thinks of the Unbreakable Vow is when he sees you talking to another male student, followed by an unnerving dream about you leaving him for another in the following night.

Tom knows he has to be smart about it. He can’t show his true colors if he doesn’t want to scare you away. Nor does he want to appear weak in front of you.

After that nightmare he is obsessed with the idea of binding you to him for eternity – there would be no way out for you. No escape. And that thought pleased him greatly.

He would either coax you into it:

“Do you trust me.” Tom one day asked you while you were cuddled up in his bed with your head on his chest. His hand was absentmindedly combing through your hair, something you had confessed to loving early on in your relationship. The thought that he had never once skipped playing with your hair, whenever given the chance warmed your heart. The ever so cold and unreachable Tom Riddle, wrapped around your finger. With a shy smile you pressed your face further into his chest, drawing in a deep breath you simply answered with a short yes, drunk on his smell.

Your state of relaxation would surely work for his favor, so his free hand moved to your bare arm, drawing circles on your skin, and leaving goosebumps in his touch’s wake. The Riddle could practically feel you melt into his chest.

“There is something that I want to ask of you.” He continued quietly, carefully thinking about his choice of words. He knew you wanted to please him, no matter what, so, a simple request would surely not ring any alarm bells. He couldn’t b too aggressive about it.

You hummed softly, your eyes closed in bliss, urging him to continue.

“You are the one I want to spend my life with, but we are still too young for marriage. Which is why I want to prove my love to you in another way.”

He clenched his jaw when you lifted your head from his chest to look into his eyes – his tense muscles immediately relaxing when he noticed the blush on your face and your wide eyes. “I want to swear my love to you and make the Unbreakable Vow.”

Or he would force you to make the Vow – either with the help of the Imperius Curse or he’ll threaten/blackmail you into cooperating.

You frowned when you finally entered the Chamber of Secrets – the place your boyfriend had been disappearing to all the time. He had never wanted to show you – up until now. The place was huge and intimidating and the air was stuffy and almost suffocating. The abject vastness of the chamber was overwhelming, and you felt the desperate urge to flee. He softly pushed you further to the center of the room, the hand on your back eerily cold as you let yourself be guided to the room. A weird feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, the feeling of fear slowly spreading through your chest.

“S-So, what did you want to show me?” You asked breathlessly, desperate to break the silence. The absence of an answer sent a pang of nausea to your stomach, flinching when he turned you to face him, both his hands gripping your shoulders firmly. From the corner of your eye you could see movement, whipping your head around to see a masked person walking closer to you, with his wand in hand. Your whole body tensed as you tried to break away from Tom’s grip.

“T-Tom, what is the meaning of this?” You turned to glare at him, your voice painfully shrill with nerves.

Again, he didn’t answer. His grip on your shoulders tightened, his hands moving to grasp your smaller ones tightly instead. The stranger moved closer, placing the tip of his wand onto your linked hands.

Without another word you tried ripping your hands free, twisting and turning but his grip only tightened around your wrists – sure to leave bruises on your skin.

“Let go, Tom. This isn’t funny.”

“It isn’t supposed to be, love. Now stand still.” He growled, roughly pulling you closer to him again.

“Now, be a good girl.”

[shinsocest]

No. 005

notes: I don't remember this being so slimy but I love it. Anyways wish me luck at work tonight. It's my first time being in charge without the general manager breathing down my neck 💀

warnings: Size kink, degradation, praise, breeding, oral (both), voice kink, overstim, body worship

“I said no.”

You spit the words from your mouth angrily as you glare at the man you just shoved. The bass of the club thrums heavily in your chest, mimicking the heavy thud of your heart as he looks at his alcohol strewn shirt and returns your glare.

He’s been haranguing you all night. Awful one liners that he had to have thought up with his dick, and trying to buy you drinks. You’ve been polite, declining his advances one after another just trying to enjoy the night out with your friends, but now he’s crossed the line.

Your friends had excused themselves from the dancefloor to get more drinks, but before you could follow them he’d slid up behind you and put his arms around your waist. The unwanted touch had been enough to make your skin crawl.

You try to maintain your glare as he towers over you, but there’s a flutter of unease in your chest when he grabs your arm. His expression is taut, annoyed. “Don’t be a bitch. Just tryin’ to have a good time.”

“Let go.” You glance around warily, a familiar bitterness and panic sparking at the lack of attention this is receiving from nearby clubbers. Of course.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Just take it easy.” His purred tone makes your face twist up in disgust.

You’re preparing to throw the elbow of a lifetime when he suddenly splutters beside you, and is yanked from your side.

"Think you're looking for a good time in the wrong place."

Your head snaps up to see a tall, dark-haired man with your assailant's arm in a vice grip. He's covered in purplish scars that react strangely to the flashing red, blue, and greens of the club lights.

His eyes seem to pierce right through you as he spares you a glance, before he winks and turns his attention away. You stare; his eyes are so shockingly blue.

"What the hell, fuck off man." The other man struggles, but you watch him stiffen as the newcomer grips him tighter and whispers something in his ear.

His face pales, looking stricken, and he stumbles back as the newcomer throws him forward. He pushes through the crowd of people without looking back, ignoring their exclamations of irritation.

The newcomer watches him go, and you take a moment to just look him over. He doesn't exactly look like all the other clubbers. He's in a high collared, long black overcoat that's seen better days, black jeans and loose white t-shirt. But he doesn't seem out of place either; it's like he belongs here.

You don't realize you're staring until he turns to peer at you, and you look down, a sudden wave of self consciousness washing over you.

"Uh, thanks. Thank you," you manage after a moment, peeking up to see him giving you an amused look.

He gets closer, a grin widening across his cheeks. It looks uncomfortable to you, pulling at the staples holding his skin together. He speaks loudly, combating the music. "What was that? Can't hear you, babydoll."

You raise your voice as he steps closer, ready to repeat yourself, but your mind switches tracks. Despite his scars, you can’t deny that he’s incredibly handsome in his own way. You’re entranced by his roguish smile. "Dance with me."

Sapphire eyes gleam approvingly as his fingers close around your waist. He tugs you closer, guiding you to grind back on him in time with the pounding music.

You can hear him much clearer low, a low throaty rasp in your ear.

"Been watching you all night, little mouse. You sure do know how to tell a guy no. Can we have a little fun? Or are you gonna tell me no too?"

His words bring a shudder up your spine. There’s just something about him that draws you in. He feels wild, and dangerous, and you want to be swept up in it. Even if it’s just for a night.

Before you can answer, you can hear your friends calling your name. He peers over your head at the trio of girls standing a few feet away, all of them looking at you expectantly.

You look at them, giving them a reassuring look. “I’ll catch up with you guys, okay?”

Your best friend glances at him then at you, a knowing smile on her face as she tugs the other two back towards the bar.

Once they’re gone you lean your head back into his shoulder, pressing your hips back against him more firmly, letting him feel your agreement.

He makes an approving sound in his throat. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Name's Dabi by the way, babydoll.”

The way his voice is warm and hot in your ear makes it that much easier to melt into him, silencing any nerves as his long fingers toy with the hem of the dress you wore out tonight.

It’s painstaking how he inches the already enticingly short hem up your legs as you sway to the music. You can feel the telltale bulge against your ass as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, his fingers kneading the flesh of your exposed thighs. At this rate, if anyone nearby were to look too close, the lacy front of your panties would be clear to see.

Normally you would be an anxious wreck at the thought, but with his tall form pressed right up behind you practically molded to your backside, and his arms wrapped around your waist—you can’t even think beyond the sparks of anticipation. Your body feels moments away from igniting.

You feel more than hear Dabi’s approving moan as he slips a couple fingers between the apex of your thighs, pressing the rapidly dampening fabric deeper into your slit. “Shit, you’re soaked.”

His teeth meet your ear. “Let’s take this somewhere else.”

Dabi pulls you off the dancefloor, towards one of the dark hallways that leads off towards the bathrooms.

Your squeal gets cut off as he presses you against the wall, his lips on yours. He kisses fiercely, his tongue insistently bullying past your lips, but the way he drags his hands down your body is almost reverant, palming at your tits, smoothing them down your hips like he wants to rip your dress from your body to get what’s beneath it.

Then he breaks off, leaving you both panting as he retreats to the other wall, beckoning you towards him.

“On your knees, little mouse. I wanna see what else you can do.”

He’s undoing his jeans, and that little tingle runs up your spine, a strange rush to earn his approval.

You delicately settle on your knees as he pulls his cock out, and don’t hesitate to reach for it, closing your hand around the girthy shaft, your lips already pressed to the dripping, pink tip.

“Open up, there you go,” Dabi groans as you close your lips around him, swirling your tongue around the sensitive glands on the underside of his cock.

After that you stop thinking, letting yourself feel the way he pulses on your tongue as you hollow your cheeks, the salty taste of his precum almost getting lost in the way you are shameless salivating over his cock.

The ring of a cellphone, heavily muted by the club music, hits your ears.

"Keep going, babydoll—don't you stop," Dabi hisses out, fishing his phone out of his pocket with a growl, glancing at the dimly glowing screen. "Shit."

He bites out a low curse as you swallow around him, fingers fumbling to answer the call. "Shigaraki, kinda busy."

You look up through teary eyes as you bob on his pulsing length. That name sounds almost familiar, but you're far too focused on the task at hand to spare it another thought. A moan sounds in your throat as he tangles his fingers in your hair, forcing you deeper.

"Look I know what I'm—fuck—fucking here to do, okay? I'll get your man. Hngh—he's ashes, I promise."

Dabi listens for a moment, breathing hard as he stares down at the way his cock disappears and reappears from your mouth. Then he scoffs, voice shaking under the strain of swallowing another moan. "Fuck off, I'll do what I want in my free time. Gotta go, slut’s really good."

You whine as he hangs up and pulls you off of him.

"Quiet, babydoll, gotta return the favor before I forget and fuck you stupid," Dabi drawls, shoving his phone in his pocket and yanking you to your feet.

Dabi’s head swivels before he pulls you into a nearby bathroom. His touches are fervent as he paws at your body, his lips sloppy against yours as he pushes you up on the counter. He urges you up onto the marble, peeling the bottom half of your dress up; the countertop is cool against your flushed skin.

His palms are hot as they spread your thighs, opening a space for him to kneel between them. Dabi peers up at you through his lashes with a devilish look in his eyes before dragging his tongue over your pantyclad pussy. “These are cute.”

The casual comment makes your face burn, turning your face as he chuckles.

“Kind of in the way though.”

You squeak, eyes snapping down at the sudden feel of heat, to see him holding the singed fabric between his fingers. You really liked that pair. Before you could complain however, Dabi’s tongue slips between your folds. You gasp at the warmth of him, your eyelashes fluttering when he hums, and flicks his tongue over your clit.

“Just don’t be too loud, you know.”

You fucking know that, but you have never had to remind yourself to not moan so freely than now—the way his tongue disappears into your cunt, so slick and warm and agile. Either his tongue is way too fucking long, or he has found some magical angle that makes your thighs quiver, but between that and the way his nose nudges at your clit repeatedly, you feel yourself racing towards an orgasm.

He’s relentless, messy; your juices spilling down his chin. For once, you are getting as good as you gave. You bite back a moan as the knot in your stomach twists, threatening to snap.

Then Dabi pulls back.

“Should I let you cum now?” He sounds so condescending, contemplative as he toys with your clit, eyes glowing at the way you shake desperately under his touch. “I mean you haven’t made me cum, I’m not sure you deserve it.”

“Dabi, please—please, hah, please I need it.”

Your voice is shaky at best, words broken by panting as he drags the flat of his tongue over your dripping hole just once with a lazy precision, before resting his head against your thigh. His nonchalant grin doesn’t change as he keeps drawing featherlight shapes on your throbbing bud, so you desperately try again, trying to convince him.

“Someone m-might see, please.”

“Oh?” Dabi’s grin sharpens. “Well in that case.”

You cry out in loss as he stands, abandoning your clit. Your body aches at the denial, and Dabi chuckles at the broken-hearted pout on your face.

“Poor slut, look at you. But you said someone might see, so we need to hurry this up, right?” Your eyes instinctively flash down as he adjusts his jeans further down his thighs, stroking his cock. It looks especially pink and pretty in his hold, contrasting with the purplish skin on the back of his hand. “I didn’t even lock the door. So you want it or not?”

“Yes,” you breathe, captivated as he thumbs over the slit of his cock, spreading his precum down the shaft.

“Get over here then, babydoll.”

You don’t need to be told twice, easing off the counter and into his arms, where he smirks and allows a quick, sloppy swap of tongue before he spins you around and places your palms against the mirror on the wall.

It’s a little embarrassing, seeing for the first time how taken apart you look. Your makeup is smudged and running, your dress hiked up your hips, and your eyes are misty and desperate looking. As you meet his eyes in the mirror, it’s obvious that he sees all the same things you do, and revels in it.

Dabi smirks as he puts his hands on your hips, forcing them to jut out as he slots himself behind you. “It’s pathetic, isn’t it? How ruined you look when I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

You jolt as he taps his length against your inner thigh, sliding leisurely through your folds. “I asked you a question, doll.”

“Y-yes…”

“Yes, what?” Dabi coos, the thick mushroom tip catching on your clit now, making you mewl.

“I look like a pathetic slut,” you whine, arching your hips into his touch, desperate to feel him inside you.

“Very good,” Dabi rasps, the head of his cock catching on your eager hole. With a low moan he pushes in. “That deserves a reward.”

Your fingers bend against the glass as he thrusts home, the force of it threatening your balance. The intrusion is sudden, but your slick walls are accommodating, throbbing and ready to take as much as he’ll give you.

Every time Dabi drives into you, his cock slides against that stiff patch of nerves that makes moan after moan tumble from your lips. It doesn’t take long for that rolling wave of pleasure to begin cresting in you again, especially when he pulls the top of your dress down, groping at your tits as they spill out.

Your arms shake with the effort to keep yourself upright for the both of you as he rolls both of your tits between his fingers, pulling on them. As the tension pulls tight and snaps, your arms fail.

Dabi’s pace stutters as you fall against the mirror, your pussy spasming and creaming on his length, but after a quick adjustment, he returns to that hard and agonizingly steady tempo.

“Aw, babydoll, did you just cum? Poor thing, just from that?” Sympathy drips from his tongue as you whimper and nod—smudging the glass in the process—but when his thrusts get harder, you know it doesn’t run that deep. “Well I’m not quite done with this pussy yet, so just hang on for me.”

“Ah, ah, fuck!”

Your eyes go glassy as he continues to drill into you, your walls hot and sensitive, quivering in a way that would be embarrassing if you could think beyond how painfully good his cock feels.

“Fuck, squeeze me like that again. Gonna make me cum right in this pussy.”

Your whole body ripples at his words, causing Dabi to chuckle breathlessly. “Wait, did you like that? Hmm? Little slut, you really want to be knocked up by a guy you don’t even know?”

You look over your shoulder, your eyes teary, expression so fucked out as you nod at him that Dabi stiffens, his release suddenly much closer than it had been. “Damn.”

You fall into bliss so suddenly your moan is loud and unfiltered, rocketing off the bathroom walls and snapping the coil in his gut so fast that he snarls as his release takes hold of him.

“Oh fuck, babydoll, fine. You want me to stuff a brat in you? Then take it, take it—oh f-fuck, there you go, all for you, doll.”

His groan rumbles against your back as he presses you hard against the glass, his cock throbbing as he empties himself into your cunt.

Dabi leans into you heavily, relaxing against your body as the fading spasms of your pussy milk whatever he has left, before sighing and pulling out. With nothing to stop it, his cum spills out down your thighs.

You moan as you feel his fingers pushing his spilt cum back up into you.

“When you see those two lines, just come back here and ask around for me. I’ll find ya, doll.”

[eupheme]

mean wade or just him playfully making fun of you as he makes you cum consecutive times until you squirt? I'm so down bad for this man it's worrying 😭

Ohh I am 👀💖 anon! I went with a smug/teasing Wade for this (and also a sort-of follow-up to this fwb!wade drabble), I hope that is ok!! Thanks so much for sending this to me!

flood it | wade wilson x f!reader

800 words | multiple orgasms, fwb!wade, piv, squirting

It’s white against pink, as his lips stretch wide. Parting teeth as he pants, a stripe of red across his nose where his mask has been tugged up.

His scarred chin glossy. Smeared by the back of a hand, not more than ten minutes after he slipped through your bedroom window.

All too eager to answer your text. Still in his suit, grime worked into the creases as he laid you out on the floor of your room, unable to make it to your bed.

Your sleeping shorts had still been on, then - panties tugged to the side so his tongue could slip against your slit in greeting.

Record time, before your thighs were clamping around his ears, hips lifting into the air - hand stifling your cry.

The scarred tip of his cock rutting against your core, as your other hand clung to his wrist.

“Turned you a horny little monster, didn’t I?” He coos, “You still need it that bad?”

The sound of annoyance you make turns high, as he notches himself at your entrance - fitting every inch inside.

“S’okay.” It’s murmured out - just as he draws back, before hilting himself again, “I like that you can’t get enough.”

Another cry pulled from you, with the pump of his hips, the swirl of his fingers. Pleased - his lips meeting yours, halting the filth that pours from them.

He tastes like you, as you open for him, and that does more to you than it should. You can never resist him, that ache of want that lingers beneath your skin. Him and his mouth, and every inch of those six foot two inches, as he curves over you.

A hand splayed across the ankle that’s hooked against his shoulder. Near bending you in half, intent on finding the exact spot that has your nails sinking into the woven rug.

“There we fucking go. Bet you can give me another.” His hum low, when he finds it, “Bet I can make you gush all over my cock.”

You’re still not used to his enthusiasm. A late-night message sent in desperation that he was too eager to answer. Still intent on making up for all your supposed ‘lost time’.

Intent on making sure that your experiences with him eclipse all others.

“Can’t, Wade.” It’s sighed out - but even as his hips move, that dull twinge of overstimulation bleeds into pleasure, “Haven’t-“

But he only groans - the words husked out as eyes dip down to where you’re joined.

“You will for me.”

A greedy moment - his tone low. Possessive, for a flicker of a second, before he’s grinning.

“It was the request, after all,” He winks, his tongue peeking out, tasting you against his lips, “And I’m always happy to prove you wrong. Again, I might add.”

And maybe you want him too. Maybe it’s in the look you give him - heavy-lidded eyes, your hips lifting into the sharp snap of his.

A moan, at the slick way you grip him. Capturing your hand that slips down to help - pinning your wrists above your head.

“Uh uh.” Wade’s head shakes, “This is gonna be all me.”

The steady pound of his cock sending you higher, that deep pressure inside you building swiftly towards another peak.

“When your toes are cold because you ruined this rug by gushing all over it, you’re gonna be thinking about this.”

It makes you moan. This thing between you had gotten messy - deeper feelings caught somewhere between that first kiss to now. Don’t know how to tell him that he’s all you think about.

Not sure how to name the flip inside your belly - a tight, twisting ball of pleasure - so close to coming from just his cock. Your eyes wide as it begins to swell - his name whimpered out as you squirm on the floor beneath him.

“Fuck. Yes.” He pants, “Want you to fucking flood it, come on.”

Your gaze on his, when you do. Seeing how the white eyes of his mask widen - curving with his smile when your head tilts back.

Crying out, as he makes you come hard. As he fucks you through it, the sound filthy with the clap of his hips against yours. Leaking with each flutter of your cunt around his cock, dropping down to dampen the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

Wade’s rhythm going sloppy as his ego soars - your foot slipping from his shoulder, wrapping around his waist just as his mouth presses to yours again.

Slick still leaking down his cock, the red leather at his groin glistening when he throbs inside you. Spilling with a rough groan, fingers pinching at your hips as he holds you flush.

Only then, does his other hand leave your wrists. Fingers entwining with yours instead, still keeping you pinned. A smirk, as he catches his breath.

“So.”

It’s huffed out, as the rock of his hips pushes another messy drip out of your cunt. His release and yours mixing together, just as it should.

“What else do you think you can’t do?”

[schlattslambo]

for goodness sake | schlatt 18+

a/n: inspired and dedicated to @blaineandergel . thank you my friend

is this edited? no. was this written while im at work? yes. please enjoy. i tried to make this as gender neutral as possible. if theres anything i can do to improve on that front, please let me know! ❤️

————-

you weren’t sure when the whimsy of christmas came back, but as you stepped back from putting the final ornament on the tree, it was swirling around in the air alongside cinnamon and apple.

the tree was fluffy and looked soft from a distance. with the twinkling lights and generic ornaments, it looked even better. soft christmas music played on a record player on the mantle, where your boyfriend was fastening stockings.

christmas wasn’t much of a celebration once you grew up and moved out. it was more of an excuse to eat ham and stromboli and sneak cookie dough as your mother baked cookies whenever you visited their house. this year was different.

this year, you were spending your first christmas together with your boyfriend, a youtuber named schlatt. you’d met him through a mutual friend and hit it off instantly. at first, your relationship was secret. fans had noticed a brightness in schlatt’s eyes that wasn’t there before and began questioning it.

eventually, fans assumed that he was seeing someone. with that assumption, a bit of hate was spewed whenever someone brought up the fact. you let the hate fall off your shoulders, mainly because nobody would see this side of schlatt. the side that was wearing matching christmas pajamas and humming along to frank sinatra.

a soft, loving smile tugs at the corner of your lips as jambo waltzes in, red and green collar jingling. schlatt stands back and admires his handiwork of the mantle as you snake your arms around his waist. he smiles down at you, heart warm.

“hey there baby.” he says, turning around and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“you did a really good job with the fireplace.” you say softly, nuzzling your face against his chest.

“thank you,” schlatt replies with a smile. “i’m gonna light a fire, what do you think?”

you smile. “baby, it’s not cold enough for that.”

“and?” schlatt asks. “it’s romantic.”

you roll your eyes but allow schlatt to putz outside and grab some wood from the pile on the porch. this man absolutely loves that fireplace and would have a fire lit all the time if he could.

you pour yourself a glass of wine and watch as schlatt lights the fire. it crackles to life and he smiles proudly. he’ll never say it, but this kind of thing is what keeps him going. the domestic side of your relationship. him working hard and you just sitting there looking cute. in this case, you curled up on the couch with your wine and him cracking open a beer.

as schlatt sits down next to you, you snuggle into him instantly. his arm goes around you just as it always does and the two of you admire the decorations. the twinkling of the lights on the tree, the four stockings hung on the mantle (two for the cats, of course), and the fire all bring a warm feeling in your chest.

you both sit quietly, watching as jambo lays down in front of the fire place, squirming onto his back so he warms his belly. the scene is out of a christmas card and you couldn’t be happier.

————-

a little while later, the wine has made your cheeks flush and schlatt has switched to sipping on some whiskey. you’ve gotten through half of the bottle of white wine and you’re feeling frisky. it doesn’t matter that frank is still playing on the record player; you want schlatt and you want him now.

your hand goes to schlatt’s thigh as he scrolls on his phone, probably responding to an email. he barely notices until you start moving your hand up closer to his crotch.

“what’re you doin’?” he asks, smiling at you.

“baby,” you draw out.

schlatt peeks over at you and notices your flushed cheeks. he smiles, taking a swig of his drink before placing the glass down.

“what’s up?” schlatt asks, turning to face you. “what do you need?”

you jut your bottom lip out and peek up at him. “you.” you whisper.

your hand goes to his crotch and you begin to feel him through his pants. his cock grows hard and he allows you to touch him for a bit before gripping your wrist. if he doesn’t stop you, he’ll end up cumming in his pants like a teenager. he’s not gonna let that happen again.

“behave.” he grits.

“why?” you pout. “i need you.”

schlatt looks at you, pupils blown and cheeks flushed. he looks into your eyes, knowing that if he doesn’t stand his ground, you’re going to be a brat again. ignoring the fact that you were told to behave, you sit in schlatt’s lap.

“baby,” he sighs, breath catching in his throat as you bite at his neck, his weak spot. “we just finished decorating.”

you don’t respond verbally, only grinding your hips down. you feel schlatt’s cock harden even further under you, and you’re sure it’s pressing against his zipper. he grips your hair, making you arch your back. he bites down on your now exposed neck, eliciting a mewl from you.

“didn’t i tell you to behave?” he growls. “do you really wanna be a brat after we just decorated?”

you smile and nod. schlatt can’t help but smile himself. that’s one of the things he loves most about you (trust me, the list is long, but this is towards the top). he loves that you push his buttons and bite back.

“oh, baby,” he muses, licking along your pulse point. “you better be good.”

“make me.”

the two words leave your lips easily before you yelp as your hauled across schlatt’s lap, ass in the air.

“for goodness sake, doll.” he says as he grips your ass harshly. “i’m gonna have to do something about that.”

you lurch forward as his hand comes down onto your ass harshly, a soft moan leaving your lips. you lay there with a smile before schlatt slowly pulls your pants down, exposing your plush ass.

“can’t have any barriers.” he mumbles before beginning his punishment.

each ass cheek is slapped at least 10 times. he wants you squirming and near tears. his cock is pressed up against your stomach as you take the spankings. he doesnt stop until your ass is red and stinging. you whine and look back at him.

“n-no more.” you sob.

“are you gonna be good?” schlatt asks, yanking your hair and pulling you further back. “you gonna be good?”

you nod the best you can. “yes daddy.” you whimper.

“good,” schlatt says, gripping your stinging ass firmly. “because next time i’m going to fuck you in front of the fire place but you won’t be cumming.”

you whine at the threat, knowing full well that you’re going to be pushing his buttons again later that night and getting fucked into the floor for his pleasure only. you giggle as ‘santa claus is coming to town’ plays on the record player. the lyrics make you smile as you snuggle in schlatt’s lap.

you’re gonna be bad, for goodness sake.

[verstappen-cult]

hii!! <3

i love your work so much, may i suggest prompt 07 - sender wraps their arms around a hysterical receiver to calm them, with lando or daniel (or anyone you want really) as sender and reader as receiver ?

lots of love and all my support 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

PROMPT DRABBLES ★ LN4

FROM THIS LIST ━━━━ sender  wraps  their  arms  around a  hysterical  receiver  to  calm  them .

you pace around the waiting room, biting your nails as you wait for any news about your brother.

"hey," you hear geri say next to you, a sympathetic smile on her face. "i bought you coffee." she hands you a cardboard cup, her free hand drawing comforting circles on your back.

"thank you." you feel your throat closing up every time you try to talk.

you're about to take the cup when you decide to look up, catching a glimpse of the news on the television, your brother's name in big, red letters as the replay of the accident plays in the background.

you haven't actually seen the accident. you only got a phone call saying he was heading to the hospital, that it had been a big one.

the cup slips out of your hand, coffee spilling out at your feet. you count the seconds they take trying to pull him out of the car, too many seconds, too late. you feel your hands trembling as tears flow down your cheeks uncontrollably.

when they finally pull him out, he's unconscious. the video ends when they cover him up, so he can't be seen.

you can't see properly anymore, you're barely aware of geri trying to calm you. your legs give up, you wait to feel the cold hospital floor beneath you, which you never feel. instead, you feel big, warm arms surround you, as you cry, and scream, and beg for your brother to be okay.

"it's okay, it's—he's gonna be okay," you recognize lando's voice, fingers stroking your hair so, so softly.

it takes you a long time to calm yourself down, even when you don't have more tears to shed, you still feel very weak, body still trembling.

when you take in your surroundings, you see people looking at you with pity, sad expressions on each and every single one of them. then, you notice you're on the floor, sitting between lando's legs as he stills holds you tighlty against his body. you move your head to the side to take a look at him, finally seeing his tear stained face.

lando tries to give you a smile but it doesn't reach his eyes, there just are more tears streaming down his face instead. just looking at him and the memory of your brother lying on a cold hospital bed makes you start crying again, but lando's is there, holding you, whispering soft words, reminding you how strong and brave your brother is. you can’t be more grateful to have lando by your side.

[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ SMILE FOR THE CAMERA — be a doll and give them something to remember you by while they're away.

featuring. itoshi rin, oliver aiku, shidou ryusei.

warnings. f!reader, nudes, consensual filming and photo taking, cunnilingus, blowjob, hair pulling, pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart) one little bite, some overstimulation. all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ ITOSHI RIN

rin is settling in his seat on the plane when his phone buzzes in his pocket. it’s likely a text from you, one asking for the man to call you when he has safely landed at his destination. he pulls the device out and unlocks it with that in mind but stills upon the messages app. it is a text but the contents of it are far less innocent than rin imagined.

there’s a photo of you, dressed in nothing but his favorite set of lingerie. you’re sat in front of the mirror with your legs spread apart and panties pulled to the side, giving him a pretty view of your pussy. it’s glistening with your slick and the sight alone is almost enough to make rin’s mouth water as he’s more than eager for a taste.

the previous night when his head had been tucked between your thighs, lips sucking at your clit and tongue lapping away at your cunt, suddenly feels like forever ago. he isn’t sure how long he’ll last without being able to savor the taste of you, how long he’ll be able to manage not feeling your thighs trembling against the sides of his face and the quiver of your pussy beneath his tongue. 

rin’s grip on his phone is much tighter than it had been when he first pulled it out as he stares down at your picture. there’s a thin line between him wishing you had worn the lacey lingerie before he left this morning and being grateful that you hadn’t so he wouldn’t miss his flight. though, how can he be upset with you when you took the liberty of getting all prettied up for him?

he’s about to thank you for the photo and comment on how useful it’ll be during your time apart when his eyes flit down to the message that accompanies your racy photo.

for while you’re away ♡

₊˚ପ⊹  OLIVER AIKU

“fuck, that’s it, pretty girl,” oliver coos, a low grunt following shortly after. his grasp on your hair tightens as your nose brushes his pelvis. spit dribbles down your chin and gathers at the base of his cock that’s thickening in your mouth. you moan around his length at the feel of his head prodding at the tight give of your throat. 

the vibration is all it takes to draw out oliver’s orgasm. he groans, tugging your hair to pull you off his cock before the rush of his cum shoots down your throat. warm, white ropes of his essence pool on your tongue. “don’t swallow,” he chokes out, waiting for the final wave of his climax to pass.

obediently, you keep your tongue stuck out, letting the abundance of his cum collect on your tongue. the phone in his hand that’s not holding your hair lifts as he breathes heavily, a grin pulling at the man’s lips. a flash briefly brightens the room as oliver takes a picture of you between his legs, on your knees with his seed in your mouth.

“go ahead and swallow, sweetheart,” he tells you, his thumb swiping the screen. you do as he says, happily swallowing and giving him a lazy smile aftward. he lets go of your hair to take his cock in his hand. the flash of his camera returns but for longer as he traces his tip along the curve of your lips, leaving what looks like a shiny gloss on the delicate skin.

“are you gonna miss me while i’m gone?” oliver asks, still filming.

you hum and nod. “more than anything.”

“good girl,” he quietly praises, tapping the red button to end his recording. he tosses his phone to the side before cradling your cheeks with both of his hands. “what do you say to one more round before i leave, hm?”

₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU RYUSEI

your cheeks burn even hotter than the rest of your warm skin as ryusei holds your chin in place so that you’re looking at the mirror settled in front of you—the one that reflects your joined bodies, shows you the lewd image of you bouncing on his cock. with his phone raised and recording the act as well, it feels as though hundreds of eyes are watching you. a tinge of embarrassment courses through you but, more than anything else, your skin prickles with arousal.

shidou’s lips ghost over the pulse of your neck, his breath raising the fine hairs on your nape. he smiles against your skin before leaving a trail of wet kisses up to your jaw. he nips at the skin there; not hard enough to be painful but just firm enough for another wave of arousal to wash over you.

the man breathes out a laugh at the moan that pushes past your lips. his hand abandons its hold on your chin, trusting that you’ll keep your eyes forward in favor of letting his fingers dance down your body until they reach your clit. his thumb rubs circles against the sensitive nub, drawing a choked gasp from you as you continue to bounce on his cock.

“listen to you,” he drawls, a grin still pulling at his lips as he meets your eye in the mirror. you aren’t sure if he means the lewd sound of your wetness, skin slapping skin, or the variety of noises he keeps pulling from you—maybe he’s referring to all of them. “you like this, don’t you?”

you’re too overwhelmed to string together a coherent reply, so you settle for a frantic nod.

“yeah?” he asks, sickeningly sweet. his lips hover over the shell of your ear, magenta eyes never leaving yours. “come for me then.”

like his words are an enchantment, you come undone around him, walls fluttering around his cock as your orgasm floods over you. you whine at the way his hips don’t let up on their thrusts. as if he can sense the question sparkling in your eyes, shidou jerks his head in the direction of his phone. “we’ve gotta get mine, too.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[vampsickle]

Jason Todd and dom!reader pweeeeasee! Maybe he's just a pathetic whiny mess, and you wanna comfort him!

hello my sweet anon! thank you for your patience my love. i hope this is good for you!

Jason Todd writhes underneath you, you’ve ripped so many orgasms out of him, but he’s still so painfully erect. His cock is swollen and red, precum leaking in copious amounts, and he desperately fights back tears. It hurts so good, his eyes rolling back every time you touch him. He’s never trembled so violently before, his breath hot, escaping his mouth in puffs.

The pit of Lazarus had its side effects, and who knew that a high libido would’ve been one of them. But he’s still so sensitive, you’re probably the third person he’s slept with, and now it’s so consistent.

“Fuck— Fuck, wait, I can’t—“ and you hum lightly as his pathetic attempts to speak, his words come out as desperate pleas and whines, hips bucking upwards, his eyes shut tightly. Your hand wraps around his dick, and that makes him jump somewhat, spurts of cum spilling out. Even when he’s like this, he’s mindlessly begging you for more, more, more. Who knew he’d be so desperate.

“I want you to look at me when I put it inside me, Jason.” you speak lowly, lining up the tip with your entrance, allowing it to get caught there. He swallows thickly, jaw tensing, teeth clenched so tightly that he fears he may crack one. But he musters out a weak uh-huh …

Your pace is torturously slow, he takes quick breaths in anticipation, and you press your palm onto his flushed chest, softly telling him to breathe. As you say that, you sit all the way down on him, cockhead brushing against your womb, and he cries out. You haven’t even moved and he already came again.

“Oh… I’ve barely even done anything, Jason. Is it too much for you? Should I stop?” you coo, rolling your hips, and his head is thrown back and he groans wantonly, and when he exhales it comes out as a drawn out whimper. “No— No, fuck, ‘s not too much. Please, keep going, please—“ and his hands fly to your hips when you begin to bounce on him, head cocks to the side, falling against the plush pillows you made sure to place comfortably underneath him.

He’s fucking drooling. You lean over to kiss him, and he’s eager to kiss you back, messy yet slow, open mouthed and slightly impatient. You tell him he’s a good boy. You praise him, your own noises only bring him closer to his release, and he tries to meet your hips when you meet his pelvis.

“Oh— Fuck—! ‘M gonna fucking cum— Again-” and he squeezes you tightly enough that it almost makes you squeal, nails digging into your soft flesh, nearly drawing blood, and somehow he cums inside you, more than the other times. You feel full, but you still move slowly, riding out his orgasm as he cries weakly.

“Good boy. You came so much.. Did it feel that good?” his eyes are half lidded, hands slowly falling back down on his sides, and he simply nods. That’s all the answer you need. It almost makes you laugh, how cute and fucked out he looks, but you lean down and press a gentle kiss to the corner of his eye.

[alice-everafter]

"This is so exciting! I've never had a sleepover before!"

Kalim is practically glowing, even among the darkened shadows of his bedroom. The moon itself seems to be drawn to him, lighting up the red of his eyes and white of his teeth. His hair shines like the finest of silks while his skin looks like it might feel as such.

He's the picture of affluence and care lying underneath his all too expensive sheets. And you're just sort of there, with him, in his bed.

What started out as a nonconsensual sleepover has since morphed into a consensual, nonconsensual sleepover. Being held captive in Scarabia certainly wasn’t originally part of your winter vacation plans, but neither was dimension hopping. And look at you now. A dimension hopper and a Scarabia captive.

Much like dimension hopping, Kalim is an unstoppable, otherworldly force to be reckoned with. He had been so welcoming when you first met. Pulling you this way and that, giving you food to try and games to play. Smiling so wide it put the sun to shame. Showing you the sky like no one else ever had before. Until something had changed and you found yourself in the shadow of an elephant as it marched you and the rest of the dorm through a desert. Trying your best to stave off heat exhaustion.

You have your theories, of course you did. You don't stop three overblots and not see the signs. But there's something more to this. Call you paranoid but you kind of had the right to be. There was something more to Kalim's situation than what Jamil said it was.

Now, you could help, like you always do. But Grim was insistent, and you could still remember your struggle under the blaze of heat. Besides, it was better to regroup and save face than rush headlong into things with just a feeling to guide you.

You planned to escape in the night when Kalim would be asleep. So call you surprised when he came to you with panic set deep into the usually cheerful lines of his face. And against all greater judgement, you knew you'd hear him out right then and there.

Which brings you to the now, laying side by side with him in his bed. Hoping that Jamil never finds out you’re here. Else you’ll probably never wake up to see tomorrow.

“Do siblings count?”

“Huh?” You blink back to yourself and meet Kalim’s questioning gaze.

“Does it count if you have sleepovers with your siblings? Cause I’ve definitely done that before!”

Kalim grins and it’s all teeth, like usual. Your chest tightens like you’ve just seen the cutest animal on planet earth— wonderland.

You knew right then and there that you’d probably never be able to say no to this boy. Well, in this moment, that is.

“It counts as long as you say it does.”

“Hmm,” he seems to think on that. Pursing his lips, eyes downturned. “Well, in that case, I don’t want it to.”

“What?” Your expression pinches and you choose to ignore the brief flare of anxiety in your chest. “You don’t want it to?”

“Yeah,” he gazes back up with a new twinkle in his eyes. “Cause I want my first sleepover to be with you, Prefect!”

…Oh god, you’re gonna have a heart attack from goodness overload. Tell Crowley to prepare you one of those emo coffins.

"Prefect?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Your voice is muffled where it's squashed into a pillow. You feel like you've just eaten a lemon with the way your face is currently squeezed up and contorted. "Thanks Kalim, means a lot."

"Nya hah hah! You're so funny." Kalim pats your shoulder as he laughs.

When you're certain you're no longer choking on his purity and looking like you're two steps past constipated, you chance a look up. Kalim is smiling, soft and relaxed, like he should be. You almost don't want to break the peace, but he asked you to come here for a reason.

"Um, you mentioned something in the hall. Something about your memory?"

His expression drops and your stomach soon follows. You're already mentally kicking yourself before he responds.

"Yeah, it's..." He seems to shrink in on himself, curling over on his side and drawing his knees up. "It might just be nothing, ya know? I might just be overreacting about the whole thing, so don't worry about it, Prefect. Really, I'm fine—"

You reach out before you can think better of it, taking his hand in yours. It's warm and soft, just like silk, like you thought it might. The action shocks him and you very nearly pull back when the realization of what you did dawns on you. Then his fingers close around yours in a grip that makes your heart lurch.

"It's obviously not nothing." You squeeze his hand, hoping to communicate all that you wouldn't be able to. "You... You don't seem very ok, Kalim. What's wrong?"

His lip quivers and that's all the warning you get before pearlescent tears are spilling down his cheeks.

He hiccups, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be crying. It's not worth it, but..."

It only takes one shuddering sob for you to pull him close. You clutch him to your front, letting his misery muffle itself into your shoulder. You keep hold of his hand while you cradle the back of his head in the other, mainly because his grip has turned something fierce. Like he's scared to let go of you.

You don't say anything, just let him cry into your shirt. Feeling his tears dampen the fabric, his body shake against you. Holding him as tightly as you can until he raises his head enough to be heard.

"T-There are spots," he begins, "in my memories, that are gone..."

"Gone?" The confession is beyond what you thought it'd be, but you're used to that after being at Nightraven for this long. "Gone how?"

"I don't know." He sounds miserable and it breaks your heart even more. "But I just can't remember what I do sometimes."

"Which is normal! Y-You normally don't remember what you have for breakfast the day before o-or, what you did three days ago." He sniffles and you realize his arm has wrapped around you. He's currently clenching the fabric of your shirt in a shaky fist at your lower back.

"But," he goes quiet. In an effort to encourage him, you soothe a hand down his back. Hesitantly at first but growing in confidence when he starts to untense just the slightest. "It's like I blink and... I'm no longer where I was. I wake up, go to breakfast, blink, and then it's dinner."

"I-I mean, a few days ago, we were having so much fun. But then, even you..!" His words break over a strangled whimper and he clutches you ever so tighter.

"Me what? What did I do, Kalim?" There is dread building in your gut. Whether it's for you or for him doesn't matter, you just want it to stop. "If I hurt you, I'm so sorry. I—"

"You were scared of me! I saw it!" The admittance flies from his lips and all but strikes you. "You looked at me like they all do! Like I'm a step away from exploding! Even now I can tell you're scared and I hate it! I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to hurt anyone! But what if I... am? W-What if I'm hurting everyone and I don't even remember it? I'd never forgive myself if I was h-hurting my friends. A-And I know I'd never want to b-but, the more you all look at me like... like t-that, the more I start to think that I am. That I'm a bad person—"

"It's ok."

He's gasping for breath, coughing around the build up in his throat. He holds you rigidly, gripping your hand so hard your bones are starting to protest but you'd never dream of telling him to let up.

"It's alright, it'll be ok."

You never did stop the motion of your hand. It continues to drag up and down the line of his spine. Feeling his shoulders jerk with every sharp intake. Wishing more than anything that you could wipe away the pain from his trembling form. Wanting to give him the same warmth he gave you on that carpet in the sky.

"We'll figure it out, Kalim, I promise."

You're not certain of a lot of things, not since you'd been dragged here. To this world, this school, this dorm. But in this moment, you are.

"It's not your fault. You're not a bad person."

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ³

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in the aftermath of zoro's fight with mihawk, you and he have some reflecting.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x apothecary!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: at long last it is finished, tw blood mention, somewhat of an epilogue, no use of Y/N

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: november

series masterlist

Everything had happened so fast, and all you could do was stand and stare at your hands. You were shaky all over, but your hands especially; your fingertips and palms were stained by the blood you’d tried to stop flowing from Zoro’s chest.

And all you could do was stand and shake.

Only when Luffy’s hand closed around your wrist and he jerked you along with him did you come back to yourself, still gasping for air as tears filled your eyes. “Luffy—Zoro—He’s…”

“He’s fine,” Luffy barked back before softening at the sight of you. “He’ll be fine.”

For once, you doubted him.

You had wanted to beg Zoro to let it go. To plead with him the moment you laid eyes on that Hawkeye. To shout for him to get some sense and wait for a few more years of experience before taking on his last obstacle. But if you did, if you asked him to back down, you feared he would never trust you again.

Angry huffs of breath left Nami, her glare baring into the stubborn swordsman beside you. She was begging and pleading as your heart longed to do, and it took everything in you to stand strong beside your lover. 

“Y/N,” she hissed, drawing your eyes up to hers. “You’re gonna let him do this?”

Your hand sought out Zoro’s beneath the table, finding solace in wrapping your fingers around his. “Yes.”

She gaped, hands gripping the table. “He’s going to die! Don’t you love him at all—”

Your whole body jerked as you made to round the table and smack her, when Zoro’s hand tightened around yours, holding you in place. Heart pounding in your ears, you swallowed thickly and sighed shakily. 

“Zoro needs to do this,” you nearly spat. “You wouldn’t understand.”

She backed down when she got no help from anyone, storming out of the room with watery eyes. Luffy and Usopp followed soon after, leaving you and your swordsman. Wordlessly, you pulled him to sit beside you at the nearby couch, leaning your head on his shoulder whilst he worked don sharpening his blades.

“Thank you,” he whispered, prompting you to turn your head and kiss his shoulder, fretful tears welling in your eyes.

Close to sobbing, you followed the rest of them as they hauled Zoro’s body onto the ship and down to the galley. It all grew worse at the sight of Zoro’s bloodied body laid upon the table, his brow pinched in agony.

Nami heaved a breath, frantic eyes scanning over Zoro’s wound. Usopp was searching for a first aid kit, finding only your bag of herbs and bottles. It slipped from his shaky hands, the bottles rolling around the kitchen. 

Nami narrowed her gaze at you. “Aren’t you a doctor? Do something!”

You shook your head. “I—I’m not—I don’t—I can’t—”

“Luffy,” Nami cut off your rambling. “Go to the restaurant and find a doctor. Go!”

He took off in an instant. You trembled, unable to look away from Zoro. It all moved so fast; the Baratie’s owner and sous chef rushed in after Luffy, the former immediately setting to work cutting up a fish.

“Fish?” you blurted, voice cracking. “How is a fish—”

“Can it,” Zeff snapped, cracking off the fish’s head. “If yer gonna yap, have some liquor.”

You stood gaping at him, eyes wide even as Usopp grabbed the bottle and slowly inched it toward you. Even as you glared you swiped it and took a swig, slamming it back down onto the table.

The liquor snapped you to attention. You stumbled to stand at the end of the table where Zoro’s head lay. A thick and tense silence washed over the galley as Zeff worked, yet it all felt so loud. Your red stained hands drifted to brush Zoro’s hair off his damp forehead. 

Zoro winced as Zeff stitched up the largest gash first. One shaky hand moved to feel at your back, a dark part of you musing that you would match when the wound scarred. Like the front and back of a coin.

Shoving the thought down, your fingertips trailed over his cheek, drawing an invisible line down his forehead and nose. Over and over, you gently caressed his face in that circular motion, the crease of his brows softening, and you forced every sound to go dim.

Writhing in pain, your squirming made it difficult for Zoro’s to hold you without hurting you even more. The dingy he’d taken from the now slain pirates drifted back out to sea, abandoned as Zoro raced toward the light of the village.

No one walked the streets in the dead of night, so Zoro shouted, his voice bellowed into the stillness, demanding someone help him. Just as his eyes gazed over your contorted expression, his hopeless howling was answered by a light flooding out from the building on his right. 

The woman barely blinked as she ushered him inside, ordering him to lay you on your chest atop her kitchen table. He was talking, muffled sounds barely words stuttering out of him. Vee calmed him best she could, but she couldn’t focus with him bumbling around like this.

“Listen, boy,” she said lowly. “You wanna help her?” She waited for him to nod before going on. “Stand here, right where her head is. Good. Now, you wanna help?”

You whimpered, your head turned to the side so Zoro could plainly see how your whole face reflected misery. He choked the word out, “Yeah.”

“Watch.” She reached out a hand toward your face, and despite his gut instinct to sever her hand, he stood back and watched as Vee pinched her fingertips together and placed them on your forehead, expanding her fingers like a firework and grazing them down the sides of your face. 

She repeated the motion, and Zoro sighed out a gasp as the distressed pinch of your brows gave way to a more eased expression. Vee stepped back calmly, nodded at Zoro as she grabbed a set of scissors and cut open your shirt.

Zoro’s eyes immediately found the wound, a thick slash down your back, oozing with your blood, and his chest seized. Vee shot him a glare. “Pull yourself together, pirate hunter.”

He hadn’t introduced himself, and the fact that Vee already deduced who he was irked him, but he snapped to action instantly. He started the same motion as Vee, caressing your face and marveling at how you calmed under his touch. 

“Hold her hand,” ordered Vee. She was pouring a bottle of clear liquid onto a rag. “This is gonna sting.”

Even when Vee was done and your wound was bandaged, he continued that firework motion on your face as if in a daze. You would stir in your sleep, a little grin gracing your face at his touch, but when you woke, he was nowhere in sight, the faint memory warming your face. 

You cupped a hand over your cheek, inhaling deeply, hand stilling. Zeff glanced up from lining the stitches with fish skin, some old pirate trick he said, and noticed your ministrations to Zoro’s face. 

“Who taught you tha’?” Zeff wondered, if only to distract you. 

Blinking rapidly, you retracted your hands to your sides. “Uhm. A doctor from Gecko Island.”

Zeff nodded. “Well, don’t stop. Let's ‘im know you’re there.”

He’s between life and death, Zeff went on to say. Talk to him, sing to him for all I care. Let him know you’re here, and maybe he’ll stick to this side of life.

You tried to help move Zoro to your bed, but you felt glued to the ground. Even if you did manage to move, you couldn’t stop shaking no matter how you tried. Sanji, Usopp, and Luffy handled moving him, your eyes following their retreat down the hall.

“Hey,” Nami appeared at your side, her hand resting on your arm. “You there?”

“Mhmm. I’m good.” The quake in your voice said otherwise. “Where is he?”

Nami tugged on your arm, leading you to the bedroom you’d been given. Usopp and Luffy stood over the near lifeless Zoro. You shook Nami’s hand off, your feet carrying you swiftly to his side as you practically shoved Usopp aside. 

Your hand ghosted his cheek, breath catching. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Nami scoffed. “I doubt you could have changed his mind even if you tried.”

She was right, but still. What if you had tried? Would he hate you? Would he have listened? Your legs started to shake, and a moment later Usopp was there with a chair, setting a hand on your shoulder to ease you onto it. You choked on a sob, the act alone nearly casting you over the edge.

Nami watched it all with a set jaw, frustration boiling under her skin. She held back all her venomous words if only for your sake, currently seeing you as more glass than person.

“Come on,” she muttered to the others. “Y/N’ll talk to him first.”

They’d left before you could bring yourself to ask one to stay, and you were left staring at Zoro’s contorted face. What do I even say? 

At a loss, you reached for his hand, tentatively taking it in both of yours. For a time, you only stared at him, void expression conveying nothing to Usopp when he entered the room an hour later.

“You doing okay?” he asked, wary as he leaned against one of the beams holding your bed to the ceiling. 

You shot him a sharp look, biting back what you really wanted to reply with. “I… have no clue what to say to him.”

He seemed to actually contemplate his answer, lips pursed before he offered, “Whatever’s on your mind is fine. I think it's more about hearing you than what you’re saying.”

You hissed out a sigh as you returned your gaze to Zoro, taking in his condition for the umpteenth time, and forced out some words, gently running your thumb over the back of his hand. “Listen… you better fucken wake up. I didn’t wait three years for you to die on me, idiot. So…” Please. Be okay.

Usopp blinked widely, his shoulders tense as he nodded slowly. “Ok–ay, not exactly what I meant.”

“That’s what's on my mind,” you bit back.

“Maybe it should have stayed in mind.” You stood with a grunt, releasing Zoro’s hand and turning away from his battered form. 

“You talk to him, if you’re the expert,” you snapped as you went for the door. Usopp tried to reach for your arm, an apology on his tongue, but you jerked away from him and bolted around the corner.

Only when you were out of sight and sound did you let a strangled cry slip past your lips, before swallowing it back down and holding your shaking hands to your chest. You wanted to go back, to hold him and never let go… later, when you could get a grip again.

A long story short, you had no time to get a grip.

જ⁀➴

Everything… was very wrong. In the span of a few hours, Nami turned out to be working with the fishman Arlong the Saw, Luffy nearly died a watery death, and the crew gained a chef. That last bit wasn’t so wrong, but all you could focus on was the negative. 

Your hands stayed folded in your lap lest they quiver and reveal your distress. Zoro lay just down the hall, on your own bed, under your own sheets. If only he would wake up. You needed to see his eyes and hold his hand and have it not go limp in yours. 

Sanji chopped vegetables at the countertop, occasionally shooting you a glance. Pushing all the carrots into a pile, he cleared his throat. “Uh, that trick you did was pretty cool.”

His accent was nice and smooth, almost serving to relax the tension wrought though your body. You eyes lazily moved to find his figure across the galley. “Thanks.”

“So you’re a chemist?” he kept on. “It’s either that or a witch, and you don’t look the witchy type.”

A grin tugged at your lips. “Uhm, yeah. I’m an apothecary. The bombs were just something I threw together.”

The fight with Arlong the Saw had gone… expectedly. He tossed you all around like a bunch of ragdolls. You’d gotten one hit in using the element of surprise, hurling a vial of chemical at his head that exploded on impact. He dodged or caught all the rest, nearly crushing you into the ground before Luffy stepped in and wrangled the fishman around the neck.

You shivered at the memory as Sanji sent you a smile. “Well, I thought it was badass.”

You managed a short laugh. “Thanks, waiter.”

Just as the chef started to protest the use of the name, a loud, cheerful voice rang throughout the ship. 

“Zoro!”

Your heart panged in your chest, and all at once you pushed to your feet and sprinted to your room, running into the wall and teetering on your feet. You practically rammed yourself into the doorframe, chest heaving, eyes blown wide… and there he was. 

Zoro’s eyes were all squinty from smiling at Luffy, who loomed ove rhim excitedly. His gaze shifted to where you loomed in the doorway, your heavy breathing drawing his attention. He murmured your name and wincingly pushed himself up, drawing you to his side as you helped him. Luffy slipped off the bed and fluffed a pillow absently, absolutely beaming.

All you could do was stare at Zoro, face screwed together from a mistire of emotions. Zoro was much to same, his expression unsure. Luffy just kept on grining till Usopp slid into the doorway, took one look at the situation, and dragged the captain out, slamming the door behind him.

You winced at the sound, eyes averted briefly before Zoro’s hand found yours, and you snapped back around to look at him. Your eyes flickered to the bandages covering his torso, your fingers dellicately grazing the gauze. 

Zoro followed your every move carefully, features softening. He drew you near so you were sat before him. “You think our scars will match?”

Your lips twitched into a grin. “I hope so.”

The silence was welcomed, soft touches passed between you, content with breathing in the other’s presence. Only when you started blinking rapidly did you notice your eyes growing watery. “I thought I’d lost you. His sword—I don’t know how you survived.”

 “He let me live,” Zoro murmured, like he wished otherwise, and your stomach churned uncformtably. 

You ducked forward to catch his dropped gaze, tone firm. “And I’m glad he did.”

Zoro shook his head and reclined on the headboard. “I thought I was ready.”

“You will be.” You inched your way up the bed to sit beside him, shoving away the blanket and angling your head to look at his profile. His jaw set as he looked out the window.

His heart now ached as much as yours had, his defeat a weight he wasn’t prepared to carry. Your hand slipped into his with the hope of taking some that burden in stride, praying he knew you would be there to take it every time. “You will be ready, and when you are, you’ll defeat him and you’ll be the greatest swordsman to ever live.”

Zoro started to fiddle with your fingers. “You’ll be there?”

“Stupid question,” you huffed, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “Of course I will.”

Pulling back, you found his eyes, offering a smile. All at once, everything fell into place. You knew close to nothing about the world and your place in it. Would people remember you in a hundred? Will your steps be memorialized? You could only hope and wonder.

Yet, there was one thing you knew beyond certainty, and that was whatever you turned out to be, you wanted Zoro to be there to witness it.

So the words came easily, no hindrance in a single syllable. “Marry me.”

Zoro balked, whole body freezing up as he blinked down at you. “What?”

“You heard me,” you smiled. “I want to marry you.”

His hands squeezed yours. “It’s… not safe.”

“Compared to what? Whether we’re married or not, I’m with you.” Zoro tilted his head.

“So why…?”

You hooked your pinky through his. “It’s a promise. I want to be there when you defeat him. I want to dress your wounds and keep you humble. I want to grow old and throw rocks at neighbor kids with you.”

He laughed softly, staring down at your interlocked hands, and raised his gaze slowly. “You really want that?”

“Don’t you?” 

Instantly, “Yes.”

If possible your smile bloomed wider and you whipped around to shout, “Luffy!”

Zoro grabbed your shoulders and jerked you back around, his grin shifting to wince at his sudden movement. “Now?”

“Why not now?” you implored.

“I thought—” he settled back gently, brow drawn “—I thought you’d want, like, a party.”

You ensured he was fine, hand hovering his bandaged middle, eyes rising to catch his own. “I have you, and more friends than I ever imagined having. What more do I need?”

Zoro couldn’t argue with that. His grin returned hesitantly, hand searching out for yours and closing around it tightly. “Guess that makes Great Captain Usopp the best man, with Luffy officiating. And maid of honor Nami.”

Your face fell in an instant, your palm hitting your temple, heart dropping all over again. “We can’t get married now.”

Zoro tried to sit up before coughing and leaning back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nami’s gone.” Your steely eyes only added to his sudden distress. “She’s with Arlong the Saw.”

Talk of marriage and futures could wait until everyone was together. Until then, you wrangled Zoro into laying back down, not allowing him to move and open up his stitches, barking out orders to stay put before you made him.

જ⁀➴

Well, you didn’t get married when Nami returned. It just… slipped your minds. Once, Zoro drunkenly remembered, and you soberly denied his inebriated proposal. So you didn’t get married some months after either. The time was never right, but the heart was always there.

“Wife,” he once snapped offhandedly. “Get off my weights.”

He didn’t understand your teasing, gleaming smile till you skipped away, planting a kiss on his cheek and whispering, “Fine, Husband.”

The crew tilted their heads at the sudden use of the term, not recalling a recent ceremony, but when they saw the lively grins upon your faces they never bothered to ask. You and Zoro had your own kind of marriage they supposed was extra special—the kind only within one’s mind, soul, and heart. The bond was not by rings but by devotion alone, and the pair found a lifetime of contentment in that alone.

The topic of officiality arose when you parted for two years, him off training with a warlord in a castle, and you learning from healing witches in a forest.

“What if you find another wife in the meantime?” you jokingly (half-geuinely) asked him.

“We lasted three years. What’s two more?”

You nodded, drawing him close to your lips. “Don’t get too comfy, Roronoa. I’ll make an honest man out of you yet.”

Two years and each and every correspondence was signed Dear Wife, Dear Husband, Yours in Health, Yours in Death. A ghostly girl Zoro called Perona once wrote back for him, wondering why he’d never mentioned a wife and where his ring was. You gave it a chuckle and paid it no mind, not willing to divulge the intricacies of your marriage.

No one ever questioned it when you reunited. To everyone, you and Zoro were one unit in everything but a legal document. The crew never batted an eye at your little domestic bits, to the point where they nearly forgot what was so funny about calling the other your spouse. 

One year turned to two, and two to three, and three to twenty all in the blink of an eye. Wife and husband, you grew into yourselves in body and mind, watching the other with a pride and love neither of you could quite articulate how you wanted. 

“My husband is the greatest swordsman in the world,” you told some boy prince you were treating for smallpox.

“My wife is a world-renowned apothecary,” Zoro exclaimed midfight to some no-name brute. 

At some point, you’d both forgotten this wasn’t an official thing. You were married… but not really. 

It occurred to you whilst you lay swinging in a hammock in front of your little home, head rested on Zoro’s chest, his easy breathing nearly lulling you to sleep. “Zoro?”

“Hmm?”

You propped your chin on his stomach and grinned at him bleary-eyed. “Will you marry me?”

“I—” Zoro paused, blinked a moment, and looked down widely. “I forgot we weren’t.”

“Me too.” Your head cocked to the side. “So?”

His hand moved to trace your jaw before curling into your hair, and dropping back to his side. “We’re well into our forties.”

“And?”

“If we both forgot…” he chuckled. “What does it matter if we never got a huge party?”

You settled back into his side. “That’s what I was thinking… Don’t you want a ring?”

He shook a hand. “Eh.”

“Same here.”

Really, what was the use? He was your husband and you were his wife. That’s how it had been for well over a decade. Though, it would make for a good celebration. “A wedding’s a good excuse to see everyone, though…”

A week later Usopp called Nami on a snail transponder, holding up an invite as she did the same. “Completely forgot they’re not in matrimony.”

“You’re going, right?”

“Obviously.”

The whole of the ceremony, an air of hilarity rested upon each of the crewmates turned wedding guests. In sickness, in health, in life, and in death—you and Zoro had committed these vows wordlessly so very long ago. 

The wedding was odd and out of place and it was yours. You never knew how much it would mean till you stood before your silly swordsman, aboard the beloved Thousand Sunny, and slipped a ring on his finger as a burn got caught in your throat. He wasn’t much better, pushing a ring over your knuckles, blinking so fast he might’ve flown away.

Vivi, Robin, and Nami stood lined up on your left, holding bouquets of lilies picked from your yard that morning. On Zoro’s right, Usopp and Brook held back watery smiles while Jimbei and Sanji watched with subtle, fond grins. Franky stood with Chopper on his shoulder, the pair absolutely beaming.

What brought it all together was Luffy’s struggle to get it just right, reciting off a sheet of paper Nami and Vivi had asked him to memorize beforehand. Your captain’s smile could’ve blinded you, his excitement palpable as he worked his way through the list until it was time to officially seal it with a kiss.

You’re not sure what you expected, but when your lips met with Zoro’s and the hollers of your friends echoed all around… there was nothing extra special about the moment. You drew back smiling, nose brushing his, and breathed in the moment. It felt like every other kiss on every other evening, but now you were with the people you held most dear. That’s what made your heart warm enough to rival the sun.

As far as you’re concerned, you and Zoro have been married since the day he left you in Syrup Village. You sighed your vows into every moment spent apart and breathed them into each other every second side by side. No wedding was ever needed. No officiant needed to say the words. Husband and wife in your hearts alone, and that would have enough for the rest of your days.

But now, as you looked around at the friends you called family, Zoro’s presence at your shoulder, you had to admit; you would have a hundred weddings just to bring everyone here, sharing in joy and dancing around one another through the night, for just one more night.

Tomorrow, everyone might part once more. There were lives to be lived and tasks to complete elsewhere on the globe… but tonight, your family was together. As you broke away from a twirling Nami, shooing her off to go dance with her dear Vivi and spare your aching feet, you found yourself back at Zoro’s side. His heavy eyes and lithe smile met you readily.

“Wife,” he greeted.

“Husband,” you answered giddily. 

Neither of you cared much for rings, that was true, but you both took the time to admire the placements on your fourth fingers, curling into each other as the party drew on, tenderly falling asleep against the mainmast.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @nadlx33333 @fluffybunnyu @ellisaworld @hawkins-2000 @bdudette @misfits1a @star-yawnznn @gingernut131 @1-800-starkindustrie @fangeekkk @itsagoodluckkiss

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 2 - To The Brig With Ye

Step 1: Get Heat on your side.

WC: 4.5k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You were surprised to wake up at all when you came to, in what you assumed was some sort of infirmary. The room tilted back and forth slightly, so you assumed you must still be on the ship at the very least. Your eyes fluttered open, finding a face suddenly far too close to your own.

“AHH!” you and Heat both shouted at once, the blue haired man scurrying backwards.

“Heat, for fucks sake I told you not to hover in her face like that!” A feminine voice scolded. You groaned as you tried to sit up, seeing a blue haired woman, her hair wild with spikes that looked like horns, a small set of round glasses, and a black dress bearing some sort of stylized cross. House. She was using a pipette to drip some sort of dark red liquid onto your exposed wound, which looked and felt nowhere near as bad as you thought it would, considering how deep the knife had gone. Your confusion was explained away as the red droplets hit your skin and you watched the flesh begin to sew itself closed, but it only brought up more questions in its place. You'd never seen something like that in One Piece, but then again this world was vast and strange, and people did always seem to heal fast here.

“Sorry, one more minute,” House spoke to you, drawing up more crimson into the pipette and dripping it onto the wound, the last sliver of open wound mending itself closed. “Okay, all done.”

“Uh thanks, House right?” You asked her, running your hand over the healed flesh, not even feeling a scar. It was like nothing had happened at all, save for the rouge red drips of whatever she'd used that remained on your skin before she hurriedly wiped it away with a damp cloth.

“Um, yes,” she replied unsurely, looking to Heat for clarity as she removed her latex gloves and threw them in a nearby bin. She'd seen the entire exchange on the deck, nobody had told you her name, and yet you somehow knew it. House didn't have a bounty poster, as the doctor of the Kid Pirates she hardly ever left the ship, so while it was understandable that you knew who the big four were, there shouldn't have been anyway you knew her name. “I'm gonna go let the captain know she's awake,” she addressed Heat, a distinct nervous tone to her voice, before scurrying out of the room, leaving you alone with the tall man, who shifted his weight between his feet awkwardly.

“What's your name?” He asked shyly.

“[Y/n],” you smiled.

“[Y/n]...” he repeated to himself, a slight blush to his cheeks, “Did you mean what you said?”

“What bit?” You rubbed your eyes with the palm of your hand, trying to piece together what had happened between getting hit by a bus and getting stabbed. “Oh, the sex dream stuff? Absolutely, baby” you winked at him, making him blush even more.

“No!” He choked on his breath, hands waving in defence, “I meant- the isekai bit!!”

“Ohhhhhh,” you blinked slowly, “I mean it's my best explanation for what happened. I'm like ninety-nine percent sure I got hit by a bus, and now I'm here. This whole world is supposed to be fictional, if this is just a dream then I shouldn't have been able to feel pain, but I certainly fucking felt it”

“And that's why you knew House's name?” He asked, stepping a little closer to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, it didn't even occur to me that I shouldn't know it,” you hummed, taking a moment to properly observe the room you were in now. It was darkly decorated in blacks and forest greens, the occasional violet pop of colour, none of the usual sterile whites and creams you'd expect of an infirmary, with two oversized beds (likely meant for larger crewmates), one of which you were currently laying in. Each bed had a side table, a table on wheels that fit over the bed, and a small plain chair for visitors. The whole room was almost a semi circle, save for the section missing on one side where you could see a door, likely to a bathroom. The opposite corner along the flat wall held cabinets and a counter, probably filled with medical supplies, with a small desk in front of it, a chair either side likely for doctor and patient. The beds were also along the flat wall, with a door to your left and another door in the centre of the curved wall in front of you, a small, green velvet couch to its left. The anime and manga had never shown the internals of the ship, but the curved walls and round portholes along them made you wonder if you were inside the forecastle, just behind the large dinosaur skull that acted as a figurehead for the ship. Your eyes came back to Heat, who stood next to your bed, waiting expectantly for an answer. “Yeah I mean, she's not really a well known character, but I guess you could say I'm a big Kid Pirates fan, so I remember a few more obscure characters.”

“From… a manga, you said, right?”

“Yeah. You're familiar with the isekai trope?” you didn't feel like explaining that it was an anime too, you weren't even sure if this world had cartoons.

“I am,” he mused, “and I guess weirder things have happened in this world. But we're gonna need proof, and I don't know how I'm gonna convince Kid”

You thought on that for a moment, “I think I can provide proof,” you mused, “has the crew been to Sabaody yet?”

“No, we're close though,” he told you hesitantly, not sure how much information he should reveal while he not so subtly eyed your body; you'd all but forgotten you were naked. You probably should have covered yourself up but it felt like a bit of a too little, too late situation. The whole crew had probably seen your tits at this point, not that it bothered you much. It wouldn't hurt to placate him either, it would be good to know at least one person on the crew had a fondness for you when it came to convincing Kid to keep you alive. If things really went tits up here you could always try your luck with the Straw Hats, but given the timing that would be difficult, you would have to stay on Sabaody for two years before you could try and join them. Maybe Shakky would let you stay with her in the meantime. Your preference though was to stay with the Kid Pirates, your favourite One Piece crew, and usually the subject of your sexy dreams and explicit fanfiction searches.

Heavy footsteps outside caught both of your attentions, Heat taking a few steps back to stand at a more respectful distance as the infirmary door flew open. Unsurprisingly, Kid stomped in, followed by Killer, and Wire, who shut the door behind him. Kid stood at the end of your bed, looking at you discerningly, an angry scowl on his face.

“Talk,” he said plainly.

“Boss, I think I can explain,” Heat told him, “what she said about isekai, I don't think she's from this world”

“The fuck is ‘isekai’” he growled, billowing his cape up so he could sit on the couch without catching it underneath him. Killer and Wire stood at either side of him like guard dogs, unsure of your capabilities, weary given the fact you'd appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the sea without a devil fruit power to get you here. There was no way of telling what powers you had or how you might suddenly use them.

“It's a trope, in manga,” Heat tried to explain, “the protagonist is sent to another world. Usually they die and get reincarnated, or some sort of god sends them there, to a usually fantasy world. I think that's what happened here, she claims she knows us because we're fiction in her world, and that she appeared here after she died in her world. Its a classic isekai premise.”

“Bullshit, she knows us from our bounty posters,” Kid huffed, unconvinced by Heats explanation.

“She knew House's name,” Heat replied. There was a pregnant silence as Kid considered that, his eyes flicking between you and Heat.

“Okay, so she's… from another world. If I chose to believe that,” Kid grumbled, “and she knows us because what? We're a comic book or some shit? They got comic books about the great Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid over there?”

“Well… they're not really about you per say,” you replied delicately, knowing the truth would piss him off.

“Then who the fuck could they be about?” Kid puffed up his chest, “why would they write about anyone other than the future King of Pirates?”

“They're uh… about Monkey D. Luffy…” you replied quietly. “Not that you're not also a very popular character!” You quickly added.

“STRAW HAT?” Kid roared, spooking you as he suddenly stood, “fucking STRAW HAT gets a comic book? Nah, fuck that, put this lying bitch in the brig.”

“Wait! Wait!” You quickly shouted, climbing further up the bed to avoid Killer's reaching hands, “I can prove it! I can tell you what'll happen when you get to Sabaody!”

“Sabaody is weeks out,” Kid huffed, “I ain't waitin’ for your lyin’ ass to be proven wrong so you can sit around in the meantime and find an opening to kill one of us. Devil fruit or no, you were obviously sent here to stop the best competition for finding the One Piece”

“Really? You think someone sent me here naked? Slammed me against the mast, no weapons, no devil fruit, no fighting skills, to kill you?” You rolled your eyes, “I can give you other proof, I can”

“Then fucking give me your proof, mouse,” Kid growled, the bed creaking as he leaned over you, his hands either side of your body. He probably wanted to intimidate you with his large form, but really it only served to make you a little horny.

“Killer wears purple lipstick,” you hurriedly shouted, the first thing that popped into your head as you searched for information only they should know. The room went silent before Kid suddenly wrapped a hand around your throat. He squeezed it threateningly, then he threw you back with a frustrated growl, letting you go as he moved to leave the room. He gave Killer a knowing look before turning back to Heat.

“Chain her in the brig,” Kid hissed, “I don't know where she learned that but I don't fucking trust her. Put her in iron too, there must be some trick, witch or some shit”

There was a flurry of movement as you were again left alone with Heat, Killer sparing you an unreadable look before slamming the infirmary door, clearly angry. You didn't like that you had to expose him like that, even if everyone in the room likely already knew that information, but it was him or you, and you had to act in self defence. Not that it'd helped in the end though either, as Heat apologetically dragged you off the bed and clamped your arms behind your back, wrapping one large hand around both of your small wrists at once to secure you as he led you out of the room.

Eyes followed you silently as you were led across the deck, still naked as the day you were born, revealing you had in fact been in the forecastle. Heat took you directly across to the rear of the ship, opening a door and leading you through a galley. The short view you got of the galley revealed a long room, with a serving window and counter on the left that peeked through to a moderately sized industrial looking kitchen. On the right was some sort of stage at the very end of the room, short stairs on either side leading up to the platform that currently held a long table surrounded by six chairs, a small liquor bar behind it. On the main floor between you and the stage were five long tables, a bench style seat along either side. The walls were decorated in band posters, bounty posters, photos of the crew together, newspaper clippings and all manner of souvenirs pinned to the walls, covering them in what spoke of a crew that acted more like a family, with many happy memories together all memorialised along the dining hall walls.

Heat led you to a staircase at the left of the room, following you down into a hall that was noticeably colder than above, likely due to being particularly below sea level. There was a short hall that split into two longer ones, they looked as though they made a loop around a center set of rooms, the walls lined with doors, no doubt bedrooms and storage rooms. He didn't lead you down either of the long halls, instead taking you to the end of the short one where a steep staircase, practically a ladder, led even further down to the hull of the ship. Heat gave you a little shove forward and you took the hint with a sigh, at least thankful that he'd let go of your wrists now so you could climb down.

You waited patiently at the bottom of the ladder beside a closed door as Heat climbed down after you. He fiddled with a set of keys that hung from his belt, unlocking the door and opening it, beckoning you to pass through. Inside was a series of cells, four in total, with iron bars at their fronts, each with a set of bare bunk beds with thin, stained mattresses, and a metal bucket in the corner, likely in lieu of a toilet. Unexpectedly, each cell was also trimmed in what looked like some sort of ancient symbols written along the floors and walls, a dark rusty colour that made you wonder if they were written in blood. The writing looked like something straight out of a dark fantasy show, with the occasional recognizable pentagram or latin in neat cursive letters. The doors to all four cells were open, seemingly unoccupied, and Heat gestured for you to enter the second, which sat directly across from a small desk, decorated only with a plain wooden chair and simple lamp.

You stood inside the cell, shivering as the air was considerably colder now that you were well under sea level, chilled by the cold ocean around you. The walls and floors offered no warmth, plated in what appeared to be stone, seastone perhaps. The wall behind the desk was lined with hooks holding multiple sets of cuffs in different styles. Heat selected a set of iron cuffs, with only three links between each wrist, and you sighed as you willingly held your hands out for him. There was no point fighting it, and forcing Heat to subdue you would only go against your plans to bring him to your side.

“Sorry about this,” he said softly as he closed the cuffs around your wrists. His hands were so warm against yours, reminding you of your current frigid situation.

“Can I have a blanket or something?” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“I.. I don't know if I'm allowed,” Heat replied, a tint of sadness to his voice.

“Maybe we can trade?” You offered, “I.. I only have my body, but maybe I can give you something in return for a blanket?” Was whoring yourself out a good idea? Probably not, given the circumstances, but you'd freeze to death down here if you didn't at least try. Besides, its not like you didn't want to fuck Heat. At this point you didn't have high hopes for surviving this world, but if you got laid with one of your favs then maybe it'd be at least a tiny bit redeemable.

“A trade?” He raised a brow, “like what?”

“What do you want?” You asked him, using your best sultry voice, experimentally pressing a hand to his chest and running it down slowly, pleasantly surprised when he didn't shy away from you. He shivered at the touch, your skin bare against his as your hand reached the bottom of his corset.

“Fuck, okay,” he growled, looking back at the door to the brig to check he had shut it, “on your knees, for a blanket”

“Yes sir,” you purred, perhaps a little too eager for Heat's dick. You would have traded a blowjob for a corn chip, if you were being honest with yourself. You fell to your knees slowly, trailing your fingertips down his midriff till they caught on the belt of his baggy pants. Raised on your knees, you could barely reach the flesh of his abdomen with your mouth as you hooked your fingers in the metal loops on his belt and used it as leverage to lower his pants, pressing your lips to the newly exposed flesh. He made a sharp exhale as your tongue came out to run over the V that led to his cock, pulling his pants down teasingly slowly and looking up at him with sultry eyes as his hand buried in your hair. Finally his pants lowered enough to expose his cock, long and girthy even at half mast, slightly more bulbous at the end with a set of three piercings along the underside, another at the tip, and a base of blue public hair, slightly darker than the hair on his head. He shivered as the cool air touched his exposed cock, quickly overruled by a groan as you took it in your bound hands and pumped the base, promptly becoming erect from your firm, warm touch.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to do this,” you purred, pressing your tongue to the tip, playing with the piercing and rolling your tongue over the fat head of his dick. He groaned as you took the end in your mouth, only taking a third of him as you began to bob your head, stroking the rest with your hand as you slowly adjusted and took a little more with each movement.

“Oh fuck, that's good,” Heat groaned, his hold on your hair tightening as you slowly worked towards taking all of his impressive length into your eager mouth, drool starting to drip down your chin as you focused on not gagging, breathing through your nose to suppress your natural urges. Your eyes watered as he started to hit the back of your throat, his hips making small thrusts in time with your movements, trying his best to hold back from just grabbing your skull and face fucking you. He'd been pent up for a while now, with a long stint between islands with working women, and a distinct lack of women in the meantime who were willing to risk their safety to sleep with the tall, stitched up man. By all accounts he looked terrifying to most women, so your willingness to get on your knees was certainly a nice surprise, seemingly having no issue with the way he looked. He felt bad at first for taking advantage of you, but the way you kept eye contact and hollowed your cheeks around his cock told him you wanted this, that the blanket was just an excuse to get in his pants. Really he should be the one feeling used, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but euphoric with the divine way your mouth was working his cock.

You paused as your nose hit his pubes, your now idle hands coming up to play with his balls, gagging a little as you swallowed around his cock. “Ohhhh fuck,” Heat groaned, looking down at you with his dick fully burried in your hot wet mouth. “Look at you, taking it like a proper slut, you like that huh? Like having my cock down your throat?”

You pulled off his cock with a pop as your thighs rubbed together in a desperate need for friction, you wouldn't be surprised if you were dripping on the floor at this point from how wet you were. “I'd like it better in my cunt,” you replied, stroking him with both hands, hoping above all that he'd take the bait and fuck you silly.

“Yeah? And what would you want to trade for that, huh?” He growled, wondering what game you were playing to be so willing, questioning whether this really was just a trick.

“One of your blankets,” you purred, running your tongue up the underside of his cock and feeling the piercings roll against it. “I want one that smells like you”

“Why are you so obsessed with me?” Heat replied, genuinely taken aback by your answer. He'd never known a woman to want him that bad, let alone just want something that smelt like him. It was making him feel sparks of something unfamiliar, possessiveness perhaps, fondness definitely.

“Because you're sweet, and you're sexy, you're one of my favourites,” you shrugged, “are you gonna fuck me or not? The stone is hurting my knees and my cunt is fucking dripping”

“Fuck,” Heat huffed, pulling you by your hair to stand and crashing his mouth against yours, groaning as he found you more than willing to return his affections. He walked you backwards until your body was flush with the cell wall, nipping at your bottom lip before he pulled away and spun you to face the wall. You arched your back and stuck your butt out for him, your tits squished against the stone as Heat admired your round ass. He gave it a playful spank, making you whine, before he grabbed handfuls of your ass cheeks and pulled them apart to admire your soaked pussy. “Fuck, you weren't lying, you're really fucking wet”

Unable to resist a taste, he knelt behind you and buried his face in your center, motorboating your cunt, your slick coating his face. He groaned against your pussy as his tongue zeroed in on your clit, making you moan and push back against him. His hands held your ass firmly, squeezing it to keep you in place as he sucked and lapped at your clit, before standing back up, running his tongue over your entrance and asshole as he moved.

“So fucking wet for me, so sweet too,” he groaned, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your needy entrance, your hips wiggling as you whined pleadingly. “Hold still, fuck,” you only managed to still for a moment before he pressed in, bullying his tip inside you and stretching your underprepared cunt wide. “Ah fuck, so tight,” he grunted as he slid inside you, bringing one hand to your mouth to clamp over it and muffle your sounds as you began to scream at the stretch.

His fingers slid into your mouth and you sucked them greedily, moaning around them as he bottomed out inside you. “Good girl, fuck, good little slut,” he groaned, giving you only a moment to adjust before he was dragging back out again, leaving only his tip inside you as he slammed back in. His fingers left your mouth so he could hold your hips firmly, fucking you hard and fast with the intention of making you both cum quickly before anyone caught you in the act, his cock heavy against your g-spot and stimulating it deliciously with every hard thrust he made. Your palms were flat against the wall, holding you steady as your body took the brunt of each impact, breasts grazing on the stone wall and drool transfering to the cool surface as Heat fucked you mercilessly.

He pulled you a little away from the wall, your tits now bouncing with every thrust as they hung freely until Heat reached underneath you and grabbed them, pulling you up and holding you with your back flush to his chest, one hand groping your tits still while the other wrapped around your throat, slowly travelling upwards till his fingers were buried in your mouth again, muffling your moans against the wet slapping of his body against yours. His teeth grazed your neck, wishing he could sink his fangs into you as they grew in his mouth, canines extending unbeknownst to you and running over your skin, knowing if he made a mark he would be caught. He was having trouble keeping in control of himself as you sucked on his fingers and your pussy fluttered around his cock, gummy walls clamping down around him as your eyes rolled back and you came on his cock without warning. A creamy ring formed around his base as he kept fucking you hard, chasing his own high now and trying to figure out where would be appropriate to cum.

“Get on your knees again,” he ordered, pulling his fingers from your mouth and withdrawing his throbbing cock from your cunt. You dropped to your knees willingly, opening your mouth invitingly for him with your tongue stuck out. He considered just jerking himself off over your face, painting your pretty fucked out expression with his cum, but worried about your inability to clean yourself off down here, so instead he shoved his cock down your throat, holding your hair with both hands as he began to use you rougher than he intended. You moaned around him at the surprising treatment, eyes streaming with unintentional tears as his cock gagged you with every hard thrust, until he finally stilled with his shaft balls deep in your mouth and you felt the hot cum pouring down your throat, his hands pulling your hair while he grunted. You shivered at the feeling, almost cumming again from it, playing with your oversensitive clit as he unloaded in your mouth. He pulled away slowly, the last drops of cum spilling against your tongue as you licked the tip. He slapped your cheek with his softening cock, giving you an appreciative grin as he slid his finger into your still open mouth and played with your tongue.

“I hope Kid decides not to kill you,” he mused as he helped you to your feet, pinning you against the wall again, his hand running up your thigh and hip till it came to rest at your waist. “Would be a real shame to waste a good set of holes like that”

“Tell him to come try me himself, maybe that'll convince him,” you suggested, “unless you wanna keep me all to yourself”

“Mm, tempting,” he mused, running a thumb over your bottom lip, “I don't mind sharing though, besides, I doubt I could keep you to myself even if I wanted to if one of the others decided they wanted a turn. Maybe we'll make you our ship whore”

“I'm not opposed to that,” you purred. Heat made a huff and started stepping away.

“Fuck, you really are a Kid Pirate fan huh?” He laughed, “I'll get you your blanket, but be a good girl and behave yourself until I can convince Kid to let you go”

“I'll be on my best, naughtiest behaviour,” you winked, shivering a little now that you didn't have his warm body to keep you heated. He frowned as he watched you shiver, realising how much you really did need the blanket.

“I'll find you some clothes too,” he said softly before turning to leave, disappearing before you even had a chance to respond.

[Next Chapter]

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[sxcret-garden]

ღ Ateez Seonghwa x gn!reader ღ words: ~800 ღ genre: smut (sub!Seonghwa, shibari (I tried askfjöaks), praise, teasing, dacryphilia, blowjob, cum swapping) ღ reader: no description of reader’s anatomy, no pronouns used to refer to reader ღ warnings: none ღ prompt: “Swallow.”

You hum at the way your boyfriend's back arches as you begin slowly trailing kisses down his chest, and you watch his defined muscles dancing under the skin. His arms are placed above his head, pretty red rope wrapped around them, coming together in knots that you had carefully tied prior to lying him down on the bed and crawling on top of him.

"You're even more beautiful like this..." you breathe, lips ghosting above his perked nipple, and you can feel him shiver just from the warm air you exhale onto his skin. You sit up in order to take him in whole, unable to tear your gaze away from Seonghwa as he's all sprawled out for you, a pleading look in his eyes and a faint blush spread across his cheeks. Dragging a single finger from his plush lips down his throat and his sternum, you relish in the desperate mewl he lets out. It seems that no matter what you do to your boyfriend, he's on his knees for you in no time. 

Chuckling at the thought, you lean in to press a kiss onto his pretty lips - teasing touches, not allowing him to deepen the kiss, and he takes it nonetheless, thankful for receiving even just the bare minimum from you.

"Shit, you're so pretty," you mutter as you work your way south, placing kisses onto his skin in the areas in between the red rope that you've skillfully tied all around his body. Only his wrists are tied together and somewhat restrained in their movement, otherwise he'd be free to move around, and yet he doesn't dare do anything you haven't given explicit permission for. Pride makes your heart swell at his obedience, and yet you can't but tease him at the sight of his painfully hard cock, once you're hovering above his core.

"Been waiting so long huh?" you whisper, and when you lean in to place a kiss onto his tip, Seonghwa shivers underneath you. "Didn't think you'd already start getting hard while I was tying you up." And that's somewhat of a lie - because you kept praising him and telling him how beautiful he looks throughout the process, but even you were surprised at just how much it had affected him.

Swirling your tongue around his head draws a breathy moan from his lips, and once you wrap your lips around him, Seonghwa lets you hear the most sinful of moans. 

"Y/N... please..." he groans as you work your way down on him, the speed at which you take him in further painfully slow. His hot pulsating cock against your tongue has you eager to make him cum, and at the same time you tell yourself to practice some restraint at least. And then he bucks his hips up, in a desperate attempt to fill your mouth with his full length, and as he hits the back of your throat you gag a little. You reach for his hips to hold him down, and as you're about to scold him for it, you find the tears welling up in his eyes.

"S-sorry, Y/N..." he whimpers. "F-feels too good... need you so bad..." Something about his plea flicks a switch deep inside you, and so you say,

"Be good, and I'll let you cum. Promise?"

"P-promise!" he stutters, followed by him crying out as you take him back into your mouth, starting to bob your head up and down on top of him. And without doubt he holds still this time, arching his back prettily instead as he whines at your touches and tears fall down his face with the pleasure building up and overwhelming him. 

"G-gonna cum... Y/N... please can I cum, please...?" he babbles on, completely lost in the sensations coursing through his body, and you hum in approval as you let him repeatedly hit the back of your throat, again gagging a little each time, but you bear with it. How could you not bear with it, when he's being so cute and pretty for you? It takes you merely a few more repetitions until you have him releasing in your mouth, letting you hear a beautiful moan as he cums, and when you sit up you can't but marvel at the sight in front of you. Sweat glistening on his bare skin, his chest rising and sinking violently as he's fighting for air. You didn't think he was that easily wrecked, but you know your boyfriend keeps surprising you time and time again. And then, once he's caught his breath, you lean in to kiss him, passing his load on to his mouth as you deepen the kiss. A mixture of his seed and your saliva makes his lips shine, and when you comb your fingers through his hair, you command,

"Swallow." And sure enough he does as told, eyebrows knitted and the tear stains still visible, and as you watch his adam's apple move you too gulp at the sight, licking your lips.

"Shit, Hwa, you're perfect," you mutter, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Makes me wanna do this to you all day."

[bowlvers]

uno — ft. katsuki bakugo

the living room of the ua dorms was unusually calm for a friday night. katsuki bakugo sat cross-legged on the floor, back against the couch, eyes trained on the uno cards in his hands like they held the secret to life. across from him, y/n sat with a grin on their face, their own cards fanned out expertly in one hand. the rest of the class 1-a students were either hanging out in their rooms or off doing their own thing, leaving the space feeling cozy, almost intimate.

“you look like you’re planning a battle strategy, bakugo,” y/n teased, drawing a card and placing it in the growing pile between them. it was a blue reverse.

bakugo grunted, eyes flicking up to them briefly. his usual scowl was in place, but there was something different in his expression tonight. “shut up. i’m gonna win this. you won’t even see it coming.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, amused by his intensity. they had to admit, even when bakugo was being competitive and grumpy, there was something about him that drew them in. they’d developed a crush on him without even realizing it, but they hid it well behind their usual banter. after all, bakugo wasn’t the type to get caught up in feelings, and they didn’t want to risk ruining what they had.

bakugo, on the other hand, had his own dilemma. he would never admit it—not even to himself—but playing this game with y/n had become a weird sort of ritual, something he looked forward to after long days of training. they weren’t like the other extras. they didn’t cower in fear or kiss up to him. they challenged him. he hated how it made his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with adrenaline.

he slapped down a red draw four card, looking smug. “take that.”

y/n groaned dramatically, reaching for four new cards. “you’re evil, you know that?”

“yeah, yeah,” bakugo muttered, but his lips twitched slightly, almost like he was fighting a smile. “don’t act like you didn’t see it coming.”

as the game went on, their playful back-and-forth continued. y/n would groan whenever bakugo made a brutal move, and bakugo would make snide comments about their strategy, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of something unspoken. something neither of them had the courage to acknowledge just yet.

it wasn’t until y/n, smirking, placed their final card—a blue uno wild—that the moment shifted. “uno,” they said, eyes twinkling. “and i win.”

bakugo’s eyes widened in disbelief. he stared at the stack of cards and then at y/n, mouth open as if he couldn’t believe what just happened. “what?! you… how?!”

y/n leaned back with a satisfied grin. “told you i had a strategy. maybe next time you should pay more attention instead of glaring at your cards so hard.”

he scowled, but there was no real venom in it. if anything, there was a flicker of admiration in his gaze. “whatever. don’t get cocky.”

y/n laughed and stretched out their legs, nudging bakugo’s foot with their own. “guess that makes me the reigning champ now.”

bakugo felt his face heat up at the touch. he was grateful for the dim lighting in the room because the last thing he needed was y/n seeing him blush like an idiot. he could handle battles, villains, and challenges of all kinds, but dealing with the way his chest tightened when y/n looked at him? that was a whole different story.

before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. “you’re lucky i let you win.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “oh? let me?”

he grumbled, not sure why he was even talking at this point. “yeah, next time, i’ll crush you.”

y/n smiled softly, their teasing tone dropping slightly as they said, “i’ll be looking forward to it, bakugo.”

for a moment, neither of them moved. the warmth between them felt a little more noticeable now, and bakugo’s mind raced as he tried to figure out what that look in y/n’s eyes meant. it wasn’t until they stood up and stretched, breaking the tension, that he snapped back to himself.

“well, i should probably head to bed,” y/n said with a yawn. “thanks for the game, bakugo.”

bakugo grunted in response, watching them gather their things and head for the stairs. just as they reached the door, y/n turned back with a playful smile.

“same time tomorrow?”

bakugo felt his chest tighten again. he looked away, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “yeah. whatever.”

y/n chuckled and disappeared down the hall, leaving bakugo alone in the living room, staring at the scattered uno cards. he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“damn it…” he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice. maybe he had let them win. maybe he just liked the excuse to spend more time with them. either way, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.