#They are MUCH too big brain about all of this

[somnoir]

Damian's future husband

Got inspired by this specific line in a Tumblr thread and my brain went to work

Phantom was a strange hero—a vigilante that often worked with Justice League Dark. Constantine was always so antsy around the man, while Phantom himself often muttered about taxes and blasted fragments whenever said trech coat man was in the vicinity.

The Bats were, of course, initially apprehensive of the death defying being that could rip a man skeleton out of their body, manipulate space itself to rip open portals to different dimensions, and vanish better than they did. They were wary, mildly hostile after realising that Phantom had now issue killing.

But then time passed and Phantom was proven to not be a serial killer but only used killing as a last resort. Though Batman wasn't too pleased, he was—begrudgingly—tolerant of that. Because, yes, Phantom was a nice guy, a very likeable person in general. He made sure that the environmental damage during battles were kept to a minimum, he chose civilians over the enemy whenever it came to hostage situations, he was tactile and kind, and he cared so much for the innocent that he was willing to lose his innocence to keep theirs.

Of course Batman was fond of the young man, especially when he found out that Jason of all people had some sort of crush on him. A very big and almost pathetic one that he and Alfred would watch while sipping tea.

Seriously, Jason was his son! Has he not learned anything from his Brucie persona? The poor thing was like a Victorian maiden and would be scandalised at the mere thought of showing an ankle.

It was embarrassing how he'd practically start blue screening the moment Phantom was in the vicinity. As a father, Bruce was gracious enough not to bully his poor son whenever it came to Phantom. His siblings, on the other hand, held no such qualms and mercilessly dug into Jason.

In all honesty, he pitied Jason after hearing that Phantom assumed that Jason just didn't like him.

He really had to talk to him.

"You fucking hypocrite."

And that was a failure because Bruce forgot that he was just as constipated as his son.

"I'm not taking advice from the man who couldn't even try to be softer in his secret crush!"

With that, Jason slammed the door and left.

Okay... Plan B?

But what the hell was plan B?

Right.

Dick Grayson.

Bruce: About your brother...

Bird child #1: OH MY GOD

Bird child #1: THANK FUCK YOU FINALLY MENTIONED IT

Bruce: it's become an issue

Bruce: Alfred has commented that it's pathetic now.

Bird child #1: Wait wait

Bird child #1: I'll add you to the group chat!

And this Bruce Wayne found himself in a GC named 'Phantom of the Watchtower'. Along with all the complaints expressed by both family and friends when it came to Jason's bullshit.

Ah well... At least he wasn't alone in the suffering.

(Jason did not need to know that there was a video of him grappling through Gotham, Phantom passing by and waving at him, and Jason proceeding to hit a wall mid flight.)

Dick knows that his little wing has had trouble in relationships for a long time. His resurrection changed him, changed how he perceived his relationships. Dick didn't have the heart to be mad about it.

Phantom's arrival was a breath of fresh air for them.

But he suspects that Jason's attraction began with the fact that Phantom had died young as well. Fourteen from what was said. He had died much younger than Jason and had came back a hero, willing to protect the innocent and do what was best for those around him. Sometimes Dick suspects that Jason not only wanted to be with Phantom, but also to be similar to him.

Now he's watching Jason fumble with his words again, immediately going quiet once he realized that nothing coherent was coming out of his mouth. The helmet most likely hid how red his face was.

"Are you alright?" Phantom asked, frowning up at Jason. "You don't feel too good. Is the corrupted ecto acting up again? Oh, I knew I should have sped up the process of removing it but then it'd be very painful if I did it at once. And Frostbite recommended that we went slowly so we could monitor the side effect... And, and—"

"I'm okay." Red Hood immediately assured, his hand practically flying to Phantom's cheek then he shoved it down before he could even touch Phantom. "It's been a long day."

"Is the Joker out again?" Phantom's frown deepened.

Another thing Dick has learned about the dead and the undead! The fact that their murderer was still active unsettled then greatly and affected their entire mentality and behaviour.

"No. No. He hasn't tried escaping."

Phantom hummed, "I see. So what's bothering you."

"It's nothing." Jason grunted, sounding a little too much like Bruce for Dick's liking.

Okay, nope, he wasn't going to let this continue if his baby brother was going to continue making Phantom assumed he didn't like him. Nightwing to the rescue!

"Phantom! Hi!" Nightwing quite literally dropped into the alley, running his fingers through his hair and smoothly directing Jason away from whatever catastrophic misunderstanding he was walking into.

"Hello Nightwing! It's nice to see you again? How's Kori? Oooh! I wanted to invite her to a space date again—" He rambled on and on, eyes practically starry. Wait, nevermind. His eyes really were starry.

(Meanwhile, Jason was cursing his older brother for taking the attention from but also very thankful that Phantom didn't have to witness his stupidity again.)

Tim had noticed that the Joker hasn't attempted to break out in a long... Long time.

It's not a bad thing, no. It was great, in all honesty. But of course, Tim was paranoid, almost batshir crazy (pun intended, in the words of his damn boyfriends). The surveillance feed on Arkham was updated a long time ago, watching it very closely until static overtook the screen.

"Replacement," Tim startled, blinking before he saw Jason peering at him with a questioning look. Practically interrogating him on the spot. "The hell is that?"

"I don't know." Tim clicked his tongue, "This hasn't happened after Babs and I updated those damn cameras. Fuck, give me a second..."

"Did the Joker get out?" Jason practically growled.

"No, no. I'm sure he didn't. He would have been causing trouble by now." Tim reassured, clicking his tongue again before the feed went back to normal. Joker's cell seemed perfectly fine, with the Joker fast asleep on his little cot. "See, just some static. Maybe Phantom passed by."

The mere mention of Phantom has Jason blue screening, instincts kicking in as his older brother shoved his helmet over his head again. Then the idiot gets on his bike and speeds out of the cave.

Coward.

Tim whipped his head around, quickly surveying the area.

The static wasn't random. Phantom always had to be in front of the camera to directly affect the feed. So thank fuck when he made friends with Phantom's teammate—Pharaoh—and figured out how to fix any distorted imagery.

He sees Phantom standing over the Joker's unconscious body, plunging his hand into the maniac's chest and pulled out a glowing green orb. A core, from what he remembered. Holy shit, was the Joker a ghost too?

But he saw how Phantom seemed to put restraints around it, literal chains before shoving it back inside.

Slowly, Phantom turned to the camera, his entire figure still distorted, but he could see that fanged grin that his brother seemed to swoon over.

(The Joker was still alive, very much, but no one could understand how he was stuck in an almost permanent coma. Tim wasn't going to give Jason even more reason to start giggling over Phantom, unless he wanted to ruin the entire Dead on Main operation.)

Damian did not quite understand the insanity that was multiple individuals (including those that were not of their brood) attempting to matchmake Todd with Phantom. He didn't understand what was so great about Phantom, in all honesty.

He was heroic, powerful, and quite intelligent. Many people held similar traits. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a deathly being that attracted Todd in the first place.

"Hello, Robin!" Phantom greeted one day, eyes shimmering like the stars in his cape. "Superboy said you had something to tell me?"

Damian shifted slightly, "Yes. Are you aware of the Lazarus Pits?"

"Ah... Yes, of course. My court and I have been trying to destroy all of them. The Lazarus is corrupted ectoplasm that has been mixed with filth of all kinds." Phantom hummed.

"Filth of all kinds... Disgusting." Damian frowned, nose scrunching up at the memory that he's bathed in those pits before. "But I digress. I would like to assist in the destruction of the pits. Father and the rest of the family has fretted over my grandfather's pits for many years and we have barely grazed the surface on what the Lazarus truly was."

"I see! I was planning on asking Batman to help out on that. But since you've already asked, would you like to come to the Realms? I'm sure you can interrogate some of the ghosts your grandfather has wronged." Phantom grinned, already offering Damian a hand. He was floating, while Damian stood in the roof and stared at the hand.

It reminded him of the kryptonians. But Phantom's hand was cold and he didn't yank Damian the same way Jon often did.

No, Phantom took Damian's hand and then proceeded to hook an arm around Damian's waist, pulling him of the roof and into the air. And then they were flying into a glowing green portal that reminded Damian of the pits.

The moment they were in the infinite realms, Damian felt the overwhelming pressure of the dead. He swallowed the bile that rose from his throat as Phantom set him down on solid ground. The entire place felt eerie and strange, of course it was. This was the afterlife.

"Right, I forgot." Phantom cursed, "You're not as liminal as my family. Give me a second, baby bat." He murmured, his hand glowing green before it's gently pushed into Damian's chest. A sudden wave of warmth overtook his entire body and Damian stared at the ghost.

"I'm giving you a bit of Ecto to reduce any discomfort here in the realms. It'll flush itself out in 24 hours so don't worry about becoming overly liminal." Phantom smiled softly, before he offered his hand to Damian again. "Let's go? I have to stop by my keep to check the records of Al Ghuls victims."

"Of course."

And instead of being carried like a cat, Phantom picked him up bridal style and flew past what seemed to be floating islands and towards a large red and purple castle.

Is this was Todd feels? Damian asked himself, oddly enjoying this experience.

The moment they landed—

"Your majesty!" A floating eyeball yelled, rushing towards them. "You've brought an outsider—"

"Away with you." Phantom snapped, a crown and cape of stars suddenly appearing on him. "This is Robin. Ra's Al Ghul's grandchild."

"The Demon's head..."

"Yes, now shoo." Phantom snapped, before leading Damian away from the eyeball. "I'm sorry for my Observants. They're a conservative bunch."

"You are a king?"

"Mhm... Though I don't like to advertise it. The last king was a tyrant and I defeated him a little while after my death. I never intended to be king, in all honesty. But here I am." He gestured to the crown of fire and ice and the cape of stars. His grin was strained and quite troubled but he didn't mind leading Damian towards a large room filled with bigger files.

"Now, would you like to search yourself or do you want me to have someone else do it?"

Damian grimaced at the sight. "I'd prefer for someone else to suffer."

And that's how Damian found himself touring the realms, with Phantom happily bringing Damian to the arena where a ghost named Skulker awaited them. The man was a hunter, respectful towards Phantom yet troublesome as he challenged him. Phantom looked utterly annoyed, before he turned to Damian with sparkling eyes.

"What about you, Robin?"

And then Damian was fighting everyone and everything in the realms at the behest and amusement of Phantom. The ghost king provided him with different weapons each time an enemy switched.

It's only when they returned to the land of the living that he's informed that any weapon he's used is now his.

And he has a cat with him! The ghost of a small yet ferocious kitten that had his under Phantom's cape whilst Damian and other ghosts fought to glorious battle. Phantom kindly offered her to him, naming her Astra with the star shaped pupils in her eyes.

Damian is quite sure he has fallen in love.

Damian returns to the manor, utterly awestruck and infatuated. Thankfully (unfortunately), Todd is in attendance when Phantom carries him out of the portal, still held in a bridal carry with Damian actively clinging to Phantom like he had hung the stars (maybe he did).

"Sorry if we worried you! Robin wanted to help with our Lazarus problems since it's also your problem too." Phantom quickly explains once he saw Batman's troubled expression. "Don't worry about your gifts. I'll figure out a way to make you a dimensional bag."

Damian stared, "May I visit the realms again? If you would be amendable to it."

"Of course! You're my favorite, so why wouldn't I?"

Hah! Hear that? Take that, Todd!

Phantom vanishes into his portal seconds later, leaving Damian with the most beautiful and intricated sword in his hands. Blinking quietly, he whirled around and pointed the sword at Jason, who instinctively went into a battle stance.

"You may be my brother, Todd, but if you have not married Phantom once I am of age, I shall fight for his hand in marriage himself."

(Jason knows very well that Damian isn't joking and proceeds to practically plan the most novel-esque confession to date. Jane Austen might just be proud.)

Masterpost

[chris-prank]

Hi, sorry if this is awkward but I’ve never sent an ask before 😭

I really like your series with Jacce, and I was wondering if you could write something (nsfw) with him receiving. Maybe some nipple play or pegging? Writhing around on the floor after writing this

Your ask wasn’t awkward at all don’t worry 💪🏻

And I can totally write about Jacce being on the receiving end (I’m keeping the nipple play for his main story, you guys will see what I mean later😏)

CW: NSFW, top reader, dom reader, sub yandere and teasing

It’s gender neutral so you can imagine that reader as a biological dick or a strap on.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

You were convinced you never saw Jacce trembling with this much excitement before, and that was saying a lot as he was always a horny mess when it came to you. You figured that it was because the roles were different this time around. You were in fact the one topping, something that you two wanted for a long time, but both parties had been too awkward to bring it up first. It all boiled down to Jacce intimidating size. You feared rejection at the suggestion of dicking him down, thinking he wouldn’t want to be in such a vulnerable position.

But there he was, laid out before you like a five star Michelin dish, with oil covering his erected shaft and all the way down to his hole. The latter was perfectly exposed to your eyes since Jacce had his legs spread out on each side, shuddering in anticipation every two seconds. You were perfectly lined up between them, your tip brushing against his asshole occasionally, and every time it did, you could hear the faintest whines coming from him. Seeing Jacce so eager for you and your cock made you want to turn him into a complete mess, as mean as it sounded.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you wanted this sooner?” You punctuated your question by finally sliding it in.

At the sudden feeling of his muscle widening, Jacce’s back lifted off the bed in a beautiful arch. “Haah! I-I just didn’t think you… Mmf... you would want to…”

“And why is that?”

“Be-Because… Ngff… I’m tall and-and hairy—” Seeing tears forming in the corner of his eyes you cupped his cheek, cutting him short in his self-deprecation.

“Don’t worry, it's even better that you’re big and hairy.” You leaned down to kiss the tears away, while moving your hips at a leisure pace, “because it’s more satisfying to turn you into a stupid slut that way.”

Jacce moaned at the mix of insults and compliments, while wrapping his legs around your hips to keep you close, pushing your shaft deeper into him as a result. You cooed some more reassuring words into his ear right until your pelvis was flush against him. Glancing down between your two bodies, you grinned.

“You greedy little thing.”

You leaned back again, wanting to have his whole body and face in your field of view. It made the man weakly reach for you with a small frown, so you gratefully took his hand, intertwining your fingers. With your free hand, you petted up his happy trail in a repetitive motion, just like someone would do to a pet they found irresistible. It was humorous how the tip of his cock would reach your arm and graze it subtly. That’s when your fingers meet a small bump on his stomach. Your brain didn’t even have the time to register what it was that Jacce cried out an ear scratching moan, his eyes rolling back in his skull.

You were stunned for a good moment, but soon you decided to try out a theory, pulling your hips back, while keeping your palm on his lower stomach, you met with his ass once again with a swift thrust. Just like you suspected, every time you pulled out of him the small bump would disappear then reappear once you were back inside, and that brought wicked ideas to your mind. As you now grinded against him, you applied more pressure onto his stomach. The effects were immediate, Jacce’s crossed legs squeezing you tighter and his fingers clenching onto your knuckles. During your administration, you could feel subtle shudders that coursed all over his body as well, including his dick, the tip of it smearing precum onto your forearm. It’s as if you had touched the right button in his brain, making it impossible for him to say anything except pathetic “Ah Ah” and muffled whimpers.

“Feel that puppy? That’s me all the way up there.” You rubbed your palm against it as you spoke, “doesn’t it feel weirdly good in your tummy?”

The mess under you opened his mouth agape in a silent scream, strings of saliva connecting his top and bottom lips. It was indeed an unusual sensation that made it impossible for him to define where the pleasure and the discontent started or ended. Jacce’s mind was also too engulfed in pleasure at the moment to have any sense of self-control or dignity, his tongue lolling out of his mouth without a care of what he might look like. But despite his dazed state, his gaze was still drilled on you at the best of his effort and his grip on your hand stayed strong.

You hoped you could burn this image into your retina forever.

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Sorry if it took me some time to answer! I wasn’t satisfied with the first draft and completely started over 😅

[le0n-ardo]

In a relationship with ❤ Raphael ❤ - SFW and suggestive headcanons/ficlet

Disclaimer: all my writings contemplate the turtles aged up at about their late 20s, with the reader at the same age range. Your media consumption is your own responsibility ✨ dividers by @/cafekitsune

More Ninja Turtle headcanons in my masterlist!

When he met you and started catching feelings for you, Raphael was lowkey insecure you'd prefer any of his brothers over him. Seriously - a pretty, kind, funny girl like you? He was sure you'd sooner fall for a human Prince Charming, and if you ever were to fall for a mutant, surely you'd go for the leader or the brains, or the funny guy.

Still, you surprised him by falling for him the way he'd fallen for you.

Raphael will always remember when you mutually confessed, mainly because he mentioned all the previous points to him and you still admitted to being in love with him. The cherry on top of the sundae was when he looked you dead in the eyes with a sly little smirk, his voice real low.

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong with you?" He asked you, and in response, you playfully rolled your eyes and broke out laughing. All Raphael could do was laugh too, and he pulled you in for a tight hug, gently brushing your cheek as you laughed.

Even months into the relationship, Raphael still looks at you like he can't fully believe you're with him, but it's more of a happy, grateful sort of disbelief.

He really does thank for you every day.

Raphael loves picking you up whenever he can - his strength and size are undeniably some of his greatest assets, and he knows you like that about him.

He'll pick you up to sit you down on his shoulder, or fling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes whenever you're alone and he's feeling particularly playful - he just loves the way you yelp and giggle when he does that. It really gets him going 👀

As for PDA, he likes to be sneaky. Raphael will brush his hand over your thigh or past your bottom whenever he gets a chance and no one's looking.

Raphael also loves showing off for you and won't lose an opportunity to lift something really heavy or train in front of you.

That being said, his brothers very quickly pick up on his habit of showing off for you and respond in one of two ways: they either facilitate things for Raph to show off properly, or they'll make it harder for him to do whatever it was he wanted to do. However the brothers will react depends on absolutely nothing and Raph has no way of predicting if they'll choose chaos, so after a few months, he tries to show off when they aren't around.

But you're a little force of chaos yourself - one of the many things Raphael loves about you - and pretty soon, you two think like one mind when it comes to teasing and playing pranks on the other turtles. Raphael lives for every smirk shared between you two whenever you successfully tease or prank someone, especially if it's Leonardo who, one time, literally said out loud, "Great, now there's two of them."

And Raphael loves doing pushups with you sitting on his shell.

One time, Raphael convinced you to hug and cling to him while he did pull-ups. Let's just say a very heated make-out followed that training session.

And his favorite part of any workout with you is, you guessed it - the post-workout shower 👀

Amazing at cuddles. Raph is the cuddle master. Always the big spoon, always holding you close where he can protect you and feel how warm and soft you are.

And you have absolutely made Raphael's anger levels go down, according to, well, everyone.

He's still a hothead, but being around him in general feels... calmer? No one really knows how to describe it, but Raph's entire family credits you for how much Raph has grown in the months you've been together.

Finally, as everyone expected, he is a huge softie, and he loves it when you call him that. The cuddling alone speaks for itself, from the way he holds you close to how gentle his normally gruff voice sounds when he's alone with you in his room.

He's also very big on nicknames, to no one's surprise.

The night was quieter than usual, and with the overall peace that surrounded you, you were all but falling asleep. Safe and warm and supported by a strong pair of arms, you were sure that your half-shelled boyfriend was infinitely more comfortable to be pressed against than any mattress. The sound of Raphael's breathing was quickly lulling you into slumber, but before you succumbed entirely to your dreams, a low and deep vibration emanated from him - he appeared to be laughing, and the sound of his laughter would always make you stand alert, expectant of only the best things you'd known in your life.

When you looked up at Raph, your eyes squinted at him, but they held no annoyance despite the fact that your sleep had been interrupted. When Raph saw he'd woken you, his embrace around you tightened, pronouncing an "Aww" that sounded unbelievably gentle in his husky voice.

"Sorry to wake you, doll," Raphael said, his voice hushed.

You shook your head in denial and shifted your position so that you were now facing him, and you snuggled even closer into his figure. "Don't apologize. Why did you laugh?"

Raphael smirked even if you couldn't see him in your current position. "Just thinkin'."

"'Bout what?" You mumbled into his chest.

Raphael chuckled again. "You're adorable, doll."

You looked up at him again. "That's it?"

"Yeah," Raphael answered.

"Seriously, that's it?" You raised a brow.

"Fine, don't believe me," he playfully dismissed.

You giggled and snuggled into him again. "Oh, I believe you. Ya big softie."

Raphael gave another laugh, this one arguably heartier than the last. "You're never gonna stop callin' me that, are ya?"

"Not as long as you have me here," you stated.

"Well, there's my answer," he said with a hint of peace in his voice, prompting you to look up at him yet again.

"Oh?" You beckoned.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, doll, I like havin' you here," Raphael's voice hushed again - it was when his voice got that tone that you knew he truly meant what he was saying, but more importantly, that what he wasn't saying was also out of the sheerest adoration for you.

"Well, that's good," you said quietly, running your hand gently up his bicep. "Because I like being here with you, too. I feel warm here, safe. Protected."

The words you spoke seemed to stroke at Raphael's most primal instincts, those that wanted to keep you far away from all harm and to hold you dear and close for as long as he could possibly survive. He brought you in even closer, tightening his arms around you in a manner so careful - part of him feared he'd squeeze you too tight one day.

"Oh, I'll always protect you, baby doll," Raphael said quietly. "You know it."

You giggled into him again. "I do."

For a few seconds, you and Raph enjoyed each other's company in silence, until you decided to break it again.

"Big softie," you mumbled, earning another chuckle from him.

You lived for those moments with him.

My favorite turtle might be Leonardo, but I knew I had to start with Raphael! Bayverse Raph is my favorite Raph and I'm not even ashamed to say it. Anyways, hope you enjoyed that little snippet and the headcanons. You can see my masterlist for more if you want!

Reblogs are appreciated! ❤

[thesecondhandwoman]

Hey, could I request jinx with a tall s:o headcannons? Like 6’3 typa tall yknow!! And I love your user sm it tickles my brain each time I say it

HER TALL GIRLFRIEND

Jinx x tall f!reader headcanons

Synopsis: Headcanons about how it would be being Jinx’s tall girlfriend throughout your dating experience.

A/N: This is just based on my own imagination of this cranky monkey bomb, but loving it. (Fluffy and spicy but not 18+ type)

(Fluffy Headcanons)

The Height Advantage:

✧ Jinx adores your height. She’ll often find herself standing on her tiptoes just to catch your attention, but there’s a softness in her eyes when she looks up at you. She loves the way your arms feel like a protective shield when you hold her. On lazy days, she’ll rest her head against your chest, sighing contentedly.

✧ “You’re like a big, warm tower,” she’ll murmur, her voice soft as she squeezes you a little tighter.

Cuddles and Closeness:

✧ When the two of you cuddle, Jinx is a bit of a handful. She insists on being the little spoon every time. It’s almost like she’s clinging to you as her safe space. But when you lay down and stretch your long legs, she climbs into your arms without hesitation, curling into your chest. Her usual chaos melts away in your embrace, and the two of you enjoy the quiet moments together.

✧ “I feel so tint like this,” she says, laughing quietly. “But you’re just so warm.”

Secret Kisses:

✧ Jinx has a habit of sneaking kisses whenever she can, usually when you’re talking to someone else or when your attention is elsewhere. She’ll just lean up, plant a kiss on your cheek, and grin at you mischievously. It’s a subtle reminder of how much she loves you, but it’s also her way of claiming you in a playful, intimate way.

✧ “Mmm, just reminding you that you’re mine,” she’ll tease, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Hoodie Thief:

✧ There’s something adorable about how Jinx steals your oversized hoodies. She’ll zip one up, and the fabric swamps her, but she wears it with pride. She calls it “stealth mode,” claiming that your hoodie makes her feel like she can take on anything.

✧ “I’m the toughest woman around,” she’ll say, her voice muffled as she hides her face in the hood.

✧ When you give her a raised eyebrow, she’ll laugh and pull you into a hug, “Don’t worry, I won’t beat you up though, toots, loving you too much.”

Her Guide:

✧ Whether it’s exploring Piltover’s rooftops or wandering through the crowded streets of Zaun, you and Jinx make a game out of every moment. She loves getting up close to you, resting her hands on your shoulders and saying, “Alright, tall person, you lead the way.”

✧ As you move through the crowd, she’ll trail behind you, glancing up at you fondly. “I love having someone who can see everything. It’s like I’m your sidekick or something, right?”

(Spicy Headcanons)

Height Play with a Twist:

✧ Jinx loves to challenge your height in playful ways, and she’s not shy about using it to her advantage. She’ll pull you into a corner, pressing you against the wall and teasing, “You’re so tall, I feel like I’m at the bottom of the world. Think you can keep up with me, skyscraper?”

✧ She’ll grin up at you, leaning in close enough for her breath to fan across your face before she brushes her lips lightly against yours, only to pull away before you can respond.

✧ She enjoys the tension, waiting for you to give in, her hands tracing light touches down your body, daring you to take control, but knowing all along she’ll lead you right where she wants.

Seductive Dares:

Jinx’s daredevil nature carries into the bedroom or wherever you both happen to be. She’ll challenge you to give her a kiss while keeping your hands above your head or standing on one foot.

✧ “Bet you can’t do it,” she’ll tease, her voice dripping with challenge.

✧ When you succeed, she’ll pull you in with a fierce kiss, pressing her body against yours, whispering, “You’re so good at that, giant. I want you to prove it again.”

Kisses with Intent:

✧ Sometimes, Jinx will drag you to a quiet spot, her usual playfulness slipping into something deeper and more intense. She’ll stand on her tiptoes to kiss you, but she doesn’t stop there. Her hands will roam, fingers brushing against your chest, feeling the muscles beneath your clothes.

✧ When she pulls back, she’ll look you up and down with a smirk, “You know, being this tall really does have its perks, lets me touch every part of you with ease.”

✧ You can feel the shift in her, the electricity between you two growing stronger with each teasing movement.

Flirty Power Dynamics:

✧ Jinx isn’t always the one leading the chaos, sometimes she likes to let you take charge, but even then, she’s got a way of turning the tables. She’ll press you up against a surface, her body flush against yours, and look up at you with those wide, mischievous eyes, daring you to make the next move.

✧ “I’m not scared of you, toots, even with all those extra inches. Do you really think you can handle me?”

When you lean in, she might nip at your ear or softly bite your neck, “Come on, you’ve got the height to top me tonight, baby.”

A Sweet-and-Spicy Stare Down:

✧ Jinx has a way of making every moment intense, even when she’s just staring at you. She’ll stand in front of you, hands on her hips, her lips curling into a devilish smile, eyes locking with yours.

✧ “You ever get tired of being so tall?” she’ll ask with a knowing look. “I bet you think I’m too short to keep up with you, but you might be wrong.”

✧ Then, she’ll step closer, each step forcing you to take a breath and wonder how far she’ll push it. She has this ability to make you crave her in ways you never expected, the power of the short, chaotic girl, in complete control.

Passionate Confessions:

✧ When Jinx lets her guard down, she has a way of telling you how she feels in the most fiery, passionate way possible. She’ll pull you close during a quiet moment, her eyes dark with desire as she softly runs her fingers along your arm.

✧ “You’re so damn tall,” she whispers, her voice low and seductive. “Makes me want to climb you just to see if I can reach everything I need…”

✧ Her lips will find yours again, this time with purpose, pushing you to the edge of losing control. Every kiss, every touch, speaks of her unrelenting need for you. She’s confident, she’s playful, and she’s completely obsessed with you.

[sugarwarachan]

sex pollen troubles - ft. k. bakugou

summary: prohero!Bakugou gets hit with a sex quirk. too bad his roommate hates him—right?

wc: 1.8k

pairing: prohero!Katstuki Bakugou x roommate!reader

content warnings: MDNI, Bakogou has a roommate because his therapist tells him to, fem!reader is an investigative journalist, gratuitous use of Ace (hello gilmore girls fans) idiot Katsuki, pining Katsuki, fingerless gloves make an appearance sorry not sorry, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names like baby, pretty girl, princess, breeding but only if you squint

a/n: word vomited this out in less than 24 hrs

He’s praying you don’t pick up.

“Bakugou?” You sound annoyed, a little suspicious even.

He never calls you.

“Ace.” You hate that nickname, but the thought of saying your actual name in the desperate growl that is his voice right now makes his head spin. “I need - fuck - are you home right now?”

Sex quirks are a dime a dozen these days. He’s been hit with a few before, simple one that are usually pretty easy to shake. (He still hates the premature ejaculate memory, though, coming home with his boxers stiff and an image of you spread out on his bed playing like a film in his head. He hadn't been able to look you in the eyes for weeks.)

He’s never been hit with one as strong as this. The second the mist hit his nostrils he was huffing up the scent of vanilla and citrus and strong black coffee, just the way you like it, before he realized what was happening, the villain ripping down the street in the opposite direction while arousal hit him like a truck.

Bakugou's practically doubled over talking to you now, the ache in his dick throbbing in time with his fucking heartbeat.

“Yeah, I’m home.” Even annoyed you sound like heaven. “What’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

He barks out a laugh, and before he knows it, he's telling you the truth. “Got hit with a sex quirk. A big one.”

Your breath bitches slightly on the other line. He’s pretty sure his cock jumps at the sound.

“And I - " need you right fucking now - “fuck - I can’t call anyone else.”

It has to be you. He’s got women he could call, sure, anyone who might want to get into a pro hero’s pants, but it has to be you for a reason he doesn’t want to look at too closely.

You’re silent for a beat, before you say, “Send me a pin. I’ll come get you.”

He hated you at first. Always talking his ear off about every fucking thing, bringing up articles that remind you of cases you're covering—it was like living with Deku dialed up to 11.

But what he hated even worse was when you stopped talking. When you realized he wasn’t actually gonna come around and be nice to you, when you figured out, oh fuck, he’s actually just an angry prick, and left him alone.

One day he could count on constant chatter when he was back from patrol, the next, nothing at all. You even switched up your schedule so he barely saw you, a fact he didn’t tell his court-ordered therapist because he was supposed to be getting better at being around other people, not worse.

He hates remembering this now with his dick hard as steel and weeping from the tip like he’s fucking 15. The alley is secluded, thank fuck, so no one can see him shaking and groaning, forearms braced on the wall in front of him, head hanging down like a panting dog. He can barely move; every brush of his pants against his erection like a live wire to the brain.

By the time you pull up—five minutes, forty six seconds later, he counted—he’s so frayed and tense that the minute he sees your face, he shouts, “Took you fucking long enough."

Your face shutters closed the way it always does around him, and he wants to fucking die.

“Fuck, Ace, I’m sorry - it’s just, I’m fucking miserable right now - "

“Why did you call me, Katsuki?”

It’s a mistake to look you in the eye. His restraint is a razor’s edge at this point, and seeing your beautiful face is too much. You've always been pretty, but the light shining on your soft hair is convincing him he can write fucking poetry all of a sudden.

“You know why,” he grits out.

You step forward, vanilla and citrus and coffee flooding his nose.

“No, I don’t. You act like you fucking hate me half the time and ignore me the rest.” You scrape a hand across your face in frustration. “And then you call me sounding like that. Why wouldn't I be confused?"

“I want you.” It’s out of his mouth in a flash, and he knows it’s the right thing to say by the way your shoulders relax. “I’m a fucking asshole, I know it. I’m not good at feelings, baby, I'm sorry, but I want you so fucking bad it’s like I could break my teeth over it. It has to be you, Ace, fuck, I’m sorry, it can’t be anyone else - "

You shut him up your mouth, your lips locking into his as both of your noses bump against each other. He doesn’t care; he just needs you as close to him as he can get you. It’s better than anything he imagined, finally touching you, finally giving in to the attraction that’s dogged him ever since you walked into his life.

You taste like coffee and a little bit of that strawberry lip gloss he loves so much. He licks into the seam of your mouth and relishes the shiver that goes through your body.

“Like that, baby?” He breaks away, nosing at your jaw, nipping at the juncture of your throat. That makes you gasp. “You smell so fucking good here.” He jerks his hips, hisses through his teeth as his cock jumps in his pants, pulsing with need.

“Let me,” he hears you say, and you’re tugging his pants open to get your hand around him. The second your fingers wrap around him his eyes roll up in his head. He could cum just from this, he realizes.

“Of course you’d have a pretty dick,” you say with a look of annoyance, and he’s not entirely sure what to say to that besides puff up his chest. You laugh, and it’s almost fond, and goddammit he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything else -

With a growl, he pulls your hand away and backs you up against the wall, peppering kisses down your neck. The whines he’s pulling from your mouth is making everything in his life worth it. He’d fight a thousand fucking villains if it meant this, fingering the seam of your panties under your little skirt as you cry out for more.

“Wear this for me?”

“Like fucking hell I did,” you retort.

“Sure thing, princess.” He runs the pad of two fingers over the soaking wet seam of your panties. A feral grin passes over his face as your thighs tremble and press together. “This just happened to you all on your own?”

He roughly pulls your panties to the side to gather up the slick at your entrance, pushing your hips apart and settling himself between them.

“You’ve gotta come first, pretty girl.” You like when he calls you pet names; he’s been watching the way your skin breaks down out in goosebumps each time. It’s a like a drug being this close to you, making you feel this good. “The second I’m inside ya I’m gonna blow my fucking load so be good and come for me, yeah?”

The rough material of his fingerless gloves rubs against your clit as he stuffs two fingers in your pussy. Your little hole sucks him in greedily as you whine and buck against him.

“Harder, Kats, please - you won’t fucking break me - "

He adds another finger to stretch you out, keeping his palm rocking against your pubic bone with every grind. You’re fluttering around his fingers, whimpers echoing off the walls in the alley.

“That’s it, baby, there you go. Fuck, yeah, you like me stuffing this pretty pussy full?” You dig your nails into his scalp as you hold onto him for dear life, whimpers ratcheting up to moans and cut-off screams as he starts to feel your cunt clamp down hard on him.

You moan his name against his neck as you cum. “Just needed to think about me stuffing you full?” He can’t help but smirk, which quickly turns into a hissing groan when your hand finds him again and positions him right at your core.

“I could say the same for you,” you smirk, rolling your hips and coating the head of his cock in the slick of your orgasm. He chokes on his spit, bracing one forearm on the wall behind you, his free hand stilling your hips in place.

“Lift me up,” you pout.

“Didn’t know you were bossy.”

“Didn’t think you would like it,” you shoot back, rolling down onto his cock and taking an inch of him inside you. “This position’s better, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, you devil woman.” He can barely think. “Baby, I don’t - god fucking damn it - I don’t have any - "

“I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Same. Clean, too, I mean.” He’s rambling. He never rambles. “I’ve got my check-up stats in my phone if you’d like to see them.”

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“Can I kiss you?”

It takes him aback, but he’s been dying to know what you taste like since he met you, honestly.

“Yeah, pretty girl. You can kiss me.” He nips at your mouth and laughs at your pout when he pulls away. “Let me get all the way inside ya though first, huh?”

He feeds you his dick inch by inch, clenching his teeth at the way you squirm and plead for more. You’re slippery and warm, your cunt making obscene squelching noises with every rock of his hips.

With one final thrust, he’s seated up to the hilt, balls slapping against the meat of your thighs and ass.

“So fucking perfect,” he moans in your ear. “All for me - just for me, isn’t that right, Ace?”

Your head jerks up and down in affirmation.

“Say it, pretty girl. Say you’re fucking mine. Tell me how much you like my dick getting this pussy nice and tight. Bet I can get her to scream again, huh?”

He pinches your clit between two fingers. You jerk in his arms.

“Close, princess? Like it a little mean?”

He rocks his his up so he’s dragging the head of his cock across your g spot, over and over. Your eyes roll back in your head and your breathing gets shallower, shorter.

“Please please don’t fucking stop, ohmygodohmygod feels so fucking good, Kats- "

Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice and all rhythm flies out the window. He grabs the meat of your hips and fucks up into you roughly, shooting thick ropes of cum against your cervix.

The creamy sticky ring at the base of his cock when he pulls out is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He looks up at you, sees the appreciative gleam in your eye. You're turned on by that, too.

“Can we do this again when we’re home?” he asks. “Maybe after I’ve made you dinner?”

The smile you return is like the sun. “We better.”

[wetpussyju1ce]

Alpha!König x Omega!fem reader (smaller than König)

original post

for @ohdrey89

+18. mdni.

könig and his tiny soon to be heat partner are a cute pair. since the day König shoved his whole knot inside her, his brain chemistry shifted and he's been stupid for her ever since. absolutely awe struck w her. he can't help it. now when she's all calm, asking him if he'd be willing to help her fix some fences to keep foxes away from her chickens, as if the day before his mind and whole being wasn't blinded with so much pleasure he felt reborn. she can't be asking him that so… so casual when he feels like he'd die if he stays away from her for too long.

he definitely knows he has some underlying issues if he's feeling this affected by them having sex for the first time. or maybe it's love. he'd like to think it is. because she's funny, smart, kind and pretty, and her pussy is the wettest, warmest and tightest he's ever been in. so yeah, she's definitely a catch. and she seems like she likes him to a degree, because even after their little excapade at the cottage, she still smiles at him and holds his arm or squeezes his thigh when they're all gathered up before dinner in his pack house.

his heart hammers in his chest and he feels his balls throb whenever she bats her pretty eyelashes at him or teases him. she asks him to help her with the most random things, things that require heavy lifting around her own little garden and cottage. and he does it. because why the fuck would he say no?

and she knows what she's doing too, sits on a bench with her chin resting on her palms as her elbows rest on her knees, watching the massive Alpha chop enough wood to last 3 winters, just because she asked. and he's sweating through his t-shirt, the fabric sticking to his freckled and scarred skin under. and she's just taking it all in. the bulging biceps, the big hands, the massive shoulders, his thighs that are as thick as trunks and the bulge between his legs, her absolute wet dream, live in the flesh.

when he's done, he's panting and his t-shirt is drenched, so he takes it off and she grins like the cat that got the cream. She offers him water off her cute pink pitcher, and he drinks like half of it. when he's done. she takes the water back inside the house, with him following her, his t-shirt in his hands. he stands in her small kitchen awkwardly, too big, too out of place for her soft and cozy home. that is until she tells him to leave the t-shirt on the floor, she'll wash it later. and he's about to disagree because he can wash it himself but then she's slowly lifting her tiny t-shirt over her chest, and he chokes on his spit.

His eyes immediately land on her small breasts and he can't breathe.

König doesn't even realise he's already crossed the kitchen and now has her flat down on her dinner table, his mouth licking and sucking, taking his fill out of her chest. And he's moaning, big warm rough hands holding her still as she laughs and moans on the table.

He frantically unbuttons her shorts and pulls the zipper down, before he can pull down her shorts and underwear in one go he remembers his manners and looks up, “Can– Can I eat you out? Please?”

“Yes,” She grins and he doesn't waste another second, pulling her clothes down in one go. he gets his head between her legs, buries it as far he can go, his nose nudging her clit as he licks broad stripes over her wet lips, then shoved his tongue in.

One thing the Omega learned about König is that when he wants something, he does it fully, wholeheartedly, he doesn't waste time with pleasantries. If he wants to eat her pussy, he will, with everything he's got.

The Omega quickly startes to trash under his filthy mouth, she grips his hair and pulls, her legs shaking as he messily drinks her slick between her legs. The noises he makes are loud and wet. She gets momentarily worries he may drown down there, considering she leaks a lot, like so much, especially when he's involved. But all König does is feast on her sweet cunt, drinking out of her as if she was the sweetest thing he's ever tasted, and she may as well be considering his dick is about to rip through his jeans, his knot tingling and ready to swell.

Her mind is foggy, her eyes are rolling at the back of her head as he eats her out and thumbs at her nipples with one hand at the same time, he's not giving her time or space to breathe. With every exhale she moans, and when he ears finally stop ringing she realises he's been speaking to her. Or at least saying something and she makes a small confused sound, looks down her body and tries to listen over the sound of him loudly and sloppily drinking everything she has to offer, and finally picks up something. König is another planet, his brain shut down and all he can repeat over and over again are praises for her, and her pussy; "You taste so good, so good-- So sweet and warm and tight-- Please come on my face, please I want it--"

That's it. That's all it took for her to squirt all over his face, shouting in her small cottage, writhing on her dinner table that she definitely needs to clean later. König is over the moon, unashamedly moaning with his head between her legs, he doesn't give a shit about breathing when she's covering his whole face with her slick, marking him up. He doesn't even realise he's also coming in his trousers, ruining his boxers with a horrifying amount of cum, but he'll deal with that later, after he gets his fill.

[remderance]

happy xb monday!

alright, so today's xb monday is a great opportunity for me to tell you about my silly eldritch horror husbands au!

basically, in this au both xb and keralis are eldritch creatures and they are happily in love and married to each other and. that's pretty much it. you can say they are "retired" from all the eldritch horror stuff and just live almost normal lives as hermits with some occasional incidents happening...otherwise just 2 almost perfectly normal guys on an absolutely normal server being in love. maybe they're also a bit obsessed with each other, given how much time they spend together, doing stuff related to or for each other. well, you know, normal xbralis stuff. they will just sit together and talk a lot about stuff only they could understand and if any other hermit will hear their conversation it will just sound absolutely bonkers. and that's all i need. it's a silly au, really.

now let me tell you a bit more about xb himself! meet the papa of all guardians, the great marine disaster, eldritch god of ocean and all that entails...in his true form he is a big fella, that is true, but really he's quite chill and generally won't harm you if you treat the ocean or its habitants with respect. otherwise, he might slap you out of existence or something even worse.

he created all of the guardians to protect the waters (hence the name) from any threat that might oppose. in guardian culture he is their god, the great creator. he is depicted in their monuments and is well respected. additionally, conduits are quite literally his eyes! he can see through them, which is an awesome way to annoy hermits by asking them about their super-secret underwater projects that no one is supposed to know about.

of course, by itself xb's true form is too large to actually be on hermitcraft and comfortably interact with the other hermits. that's why you can see those glowing lines on his body. they are, in fact, magical runes(but i am too lazy to draw them properly) that transfer his consciousness to a human body, while the large form is asleep.

that's where we get to talk about human form of xb!

he got none of them fishy features, but he still managed to keep his crown of spikes. i'm sure he never came up with any explanation for the other hermits, and they just got used to it.

additionally, being a normal size brought him an unusual problem: guardians ADORE him. xb usually can't even approach monuments because all of the guardians start swarming around him happily. they recognize their god, they know he is their papa! they are incredibly happy to let him know that. and don't get xb wrong- he loves his little children and can't ignore them, but sometimes he needs to actually do his tasks, and he doesn't have an extra 5 hours to pat each one of the guardians on their spiky heads..

oghh boy.. that post is a mess. but so is my brain when i think about xbralis.

also, a big shoutout to @mawofthemagnetar and their amazing eldritch horror keralis fic which is what partly inspired me to create this au.... i love this fic—it has changed my life

[hoffmansgirl]

❛ 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. . .ᐟ dr charlie mayhew

𓍯 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆. . . dr mayhew x onlyfansstar!reader

warnings. pure smut. minors dni! female + male masturbation, perv!charlie, obsessed!charlie, slight exhibitionism, public masturbation ﹆

dodjsosksksDoctor Charlie's office was immersed in silence, occasionally punctuated by the buzzing of the lamp or the clicking of the keyboard as he worked, his face illuminated by the light of his laptop screen.

He was replying to some e-mails, but his mind wandered to the darkest corner of his brain — to you.

He recalled the last appointment you had attended, or, rather, the way you looked as you did. Your clothes were always a little too revealing for the occasion — short skirts, gorset tops, high boots that added extra centimetres to your small height. Your hard, teasing gaze lingered on Charlie's lips too long as he spoke; your fingers tugging at your necklaces, small smile playing on the corners of your lips as you let your mind wander. You always had a lot to say —whether it was questions about the medical terms he was talking about, or a little, teasing remarks that had him clench his fists under the table.

You weren't doing much, but it was enough for the Doctor to think about you late at night. He couldn't fight the urge to search your name online, wanting nothing more but to know more about you — what he had found, though, was way more intimate than he intended to find. Charlie recalled the way his mouth dropped at the sight of the first link that popped up: your onlyfans page. It was the best twenty dollars he had ever spent in his life — he thought, as he scrolled down your page, seeing the videos and pictures of you that had his cock twitch in his pants.

Maybe he was a pervert — you were his patient, after all, and he got to see you quite often. Yet everything about you was so tempting, so utterly sinful — he was simply unable to stop.

Charlie felt the heat growing in his stomach as he replied to the last e-mail, sighing deeply as exhaustion washed over his tense body. He run his hands down his face, resting his elbows on the table. Your face flashed in his mind when he let his eyes close, just for a second; your doe-like eyes that looked up at him with respect, your mouth slightly agape, giving Charlie a sneak peak of the inside of your mouth. Your lashes casting shadows over your cheeks as you fiddled with your fingers, admitting to neglecting your health, unable to look your Doctor in the eyes. All of the little things about you had him in a chokehold, and you didn't even know it — or, at least, that's what he thought.

Charlie logged off of his medical account, yet another sigh leaving his mouth as he heard a soft knock on his office door.

"Come in", he forced a polite smile as the door squeaked open, one of the young nurses entering the room hesitantly.

"I'm sorry to disturb you so late at night, Doctor", she began apologetically, fidgeting with her fingers, avoiding his gaze. "But there's this patient that asked for an appointment with you. Tomorrow. Her name is Y/N Y/S".

Charlie stiffened at the sound of your name — his fists clenched and breathing stopped altogether as he tried to act as nonchalant as possible. He reached for his cup, sipping on the now cold coffee for long enough to collect himself — he didn't want to embarrass himself and stutter over his words, though his mind was racing, strange warmth filling his stomach.

The effect you had on him was disturbing, really. All he did was hear your name, and it already made his heart race, his cock twitching in his pants, begging for attention. Pathetic. "Yeah. Of course", he managed to let out, fixing the papers on his desk to clear his mind, just a little. "I'll be free at 6. Let me know if she'll be available then".

"Of course, Doctor. Goodnight", the woman smiled, leaving the room seconds later. Charlie let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding — he had to deal with the rather big problem in his pants as soon as possible.

Charlie fidgeted with his ball pen, repeatedly clicking on it to somewhat calm the storm currently going on in his head. The papers on his desk looked at him, begging to be filled and checked — but he was way too distracted to even spare them a glance. He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs, his back melting into the hard backrest of the chair as his fingers moved over the keyboard with purpose, typing your name almost instinctively.

It was already late, so he doubted anyone would disturb him — the nurses' shift has already ended, and there certainly was no reason for any of the patients to storm into his office at 1 AM.

The all-familiar home page of your onlyfans page always gave him a weird feeling of comfort. Your wide, doe-like eyes stared back at him through the screen, your contagious smile somehow making his heart beat a little faster. Charlie could hear the loud thudding of his heart in the quietness of the room as he scrolled down your page, biting his lip as the newest video of yours popped up. It wasn't anything unusual — it was a video of you masturbating, as usual, since you only made solo content.

And God, he was so glad.

Without a second thought, he clicked on the video, making sure his volume was almost entirely off before leaning against his chair again, ready to watch it as if it was a normal movie. His hand was already dangerously close to his crotch, resting on his upper-thigh as the video started to play.

Charlie's breath hitched when he saw you. You sat on your king-sized bed, the fairy lights behind you casting shadows over your figure, making you look ethereal. Your full lips glistened in the dim light as you moved to get something from the other side of the bed, and Charlie noted how your perfectly done hair fell around your shoulders, bouncing in the air as you moved around. A tight, black top clung to your chest in a way that had his mouth water, and your panties — or rather, what was supposed to be panties — hiding between your ass cheeks and just barely covering your most intimate part had Charlie chuckle lowly.

You positioned yourself on the centre of your bed, staring up at the camera once, and Charlie's breath hitched — he felt as if you were looking right through him, even though it was a previously filmed video.

Besides, there was no way you knew he was watching you.

The vibrator you held in your hand almost went unnoticed by the man — he was too focused on your face, on the way your mouth parted, the way your lashes casted shadows over your cheeks. Fuck. Before he knew it, he was already palming the growing bulge in his pants, his half-lidded eyes following the way your chest heaved and head dropped back. The low buzzing of the vibrator filled the air, along with your heavy breaths as you slowly pressed the toy against your clothed pussy. Your hips bucked into the air and you instinctively reached to palm your breast with your free hand, circling your nipple with your forefinger — the action making you cry out, causing a low moan to escape from Charlie's lips. He was growing hot quickly, and you didn't even undress yet. He hastily took off his coat, carelessly throwing it onto the floor, unbuckling his belt just seconds later, his pants falling to the floor as he took a seat again. There was a wet patch on the centre of his boxers, but it almost went unnoticed by him as he pulled them down just enough so that his cock could spring free from the confines.

The second you pulled your panties to the side, Charlie wrapped a hand around his already flushed, stiff cock, his palm gliding over the soft skin. He groaned as quiet as possible — although it wasn't easy, not when he watched you circle your now bare pussy with your middle finger. Your back arched off the bed as you spread your sweet juices all over your little clit, and Charlie's mouth watered.

He imagined it was him touching you right now — his fingers diving into your tight pussy while he'd suck your clit into his mouth. He pumped his wrist harder, faster; you moaned loudly as you slowly pushed a finger inside you, and Charlie wondered if it was all you could take. He wondered if his length would even fit inside you — based off the video currently playing in front of his eyes, he doubted that.

Charlie's muscles clenched as he swiped his thumb against the tip of his cock, spreading the pre-cum all over for more lubrication. His breath was quick, uneven, desperate groans blending with your angelic sighs, as you hastily fingered yourself. With a shaky hand, you reached to grab your vibrator, pressing it against your clit, circling it over your sensitive nub until you were crying out.

"Shit, fuck! Need you...", you mumbled, your jaw going slack, your eyebrows furrowing. Charlie let out a breathless moan at the sound of your voice — yet he couldn't help the tingle of annoyance, and something different — jealousy, maybe? — that bloomed in his chest. Whoever it was you were fantasising about, was fucking lucky, he thought, feeling his orgasm nearing steadily. He dipped his head back, focusing on your little moans, whimpers and sighs, occasionally punctuated by a squelching sound of your fingers thrusting into your pussy. Charlie's head was filled with images of you, in front of him, stroking his cock just like he was doing right now. You'd smile playfully, maybe a little amused by his neediness, and then you'd spit on his cock, letting your saliva drop onto his leaking tip and run down the side of his cock. Then, you'd slowly lower yourself onto the floor, falling on your knees, ready to worship him — ready to take everything he'd give you.

A loud cry coming from his laptop filled the thick air in his office, and suddenly he remembered he was still at work. His dark, half-lidded eyes were focused on you as his wrist steadily worked on his shaft — the wet, slapping sounds filled the room, along with his throaty moans, and suddenly, his back arched off the chair, just as your own lifted off the bed.

Charlie has never felt so connected with someone — which, the longer he thought about it, sounded ridiculous. You were nothing more than his patient, and the relationship you had was strictly formal. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling of something deeper lingering in the air between the two of you, a tension that couldn't be explained, an unspecified feeling that bubbled in his chest. Charlie felt himself tripping over the edge, just as your loud cries got more desperate, more intense and oh, so tempting.

With wide eyes, he watched your pussy gush, every withdraw of your fingers causing a stream of transparent liquid to burst out of your soppy hole. Your thighs shook violently as you rode out your orgasm, your juices wetting the bedding under you, creating a wet puddle under your ass.

"Holy shit", Charlie grunted lowly, gliding his hand up and down irregularly, his hips jerking into the air as ropes of cum spurted from his sensitive tip, landing on his white shirt, some drops reaching his red tie. He couldn't find it in himself to care, not now — not when the coil in his stomach exploded, fireworks erupting all over his body, his muscles violently shaking, sore and exhausted. A quiet, defenceless whine bubbled in his throat as he rode out his high, sweat pouring down his forehead, his previously perfectly-combed hair now messy and damp.

"I guess that's a wrap, folks", you giggled, quite breathless, your whole body flushed and glistening with sweat. Charlie watched, with half-lidded eyes, as you shifted on the bed, reaching for your camera, winking once before the video ended.

He fell back against the chair, his muscles relaxing, the afterglow of the earth-shattering orgasm he just experienced making his mind go blank for a moment. A glint of your innocent, wide-eyed gaze flashed in his mind, and, embarrassingly so, he felt his cock twitch in his hand yet again, aching but not yet satisfied.

With a deep, defeating sigh, he realised that he could never be fully satisfied until he got his hands on you.

❝ hoffmansgirl © 2025 | do not copy, translate, recreate or plagiarise my content. 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ❞

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[cokoweee]

OKAY.

Took me WAY too long to finally analyze this bad boy but I’m HERE NOW-

Let’s begin. ~

First off- THIS BACKGROUND.

Look at it. Just- LOOK AT IT. This seriously looks like a storyboard from a Disney movie, you wickedly talented person, you. The lights, shading, and perspective are all GORGEOUS.

Next.

We know that Donnie has a huge struggle with drinking ever since his family passed. Drunkenness is what helped him through that horrible time, thrusting himself into the inebriating arms of the liquid that helps him forget and live without feeling all the pain.

And yet- there’s this newest update. Here at an extravagant party, an event where you’re ENCOURAGED to overindulge on the drinks, Donnie has had about a sip. That’s all.

And here he’s actually thinking that he won’t finish it. A drink. In his hand. His old friend that has helped him through every night of his miserable life- he’s refusing completely on his own.

Donnie’s seriously grown so much. 🥹 Getting to know Kendra, having the device in his head removed, and truly FEELING emotions again have been helpful steps in his mental and emotional recovery.

And even how much he and Kendra have grown together- how he protects her and how she fights for him.

And here’s a nice little comparison- DONNIE is helping Kendra when SHE’s drunk. We’ve seen this before, but in reverse! Tello has always been the one in the inebriated pov, but here he’s helping and protecting Kendra.

And that’s just lovely to see. 💜

Even here, Donnie’s having a “spidey sense” moment looking out for Kendra. As well as AGAIN refusing a drink.

Character 👏 growth 👏 YESSSS

And now we get to this panel. And to an important question we’ve ALL been worrying about:

What happened to Kendra while Donnie and her were separated at Big Mamas?

I don’t know about you guys, but I was not convinced that everything was a-okay on Kendra’s end. After she emerged from the bathroom, she was acting strange. Like- not Kendra strange. Almost like she was drunk enough to be calm- but we didn’t see any alcohol- so hmmmmm???????

And then her and Donnie go on a flippin musical date-night montage trying on outfits for Big Mamas party. And AGAIN. Kendra is NOT acting like herself.

And Donnie catches this too, the panel before this one asking if Big Mama did something to Kendra.

And THIS is her reply-

Sooooo OKAY. 😦👌 Now we know that Kendra has most likely seen Big Mamas spider lady form. Fantastic. But what Kendra says AFTER is what’s really throwing me for a loop-

“She could literally peel me like a shrimp before I get the chance to scream.”

That… sounds like a threat from Big Mama. Just add a few “biddlidoos and bobsquinkles”…

So. WHAT. The FRICK HAPPENED.

Also… “watched her eat a bus-boy”

Eh SCUSEEEE ME?!?!?…..

*brain attempting to process information noises*

To add on to the mystery of what’s going on with Kendra- she says THIS.

Donnie’s ACTUAL name. Not “Othello” not “dummy” not “nerd”… she called him by his true name.

THAT AINT NORMAL.

And then- the biggest thing in this update that exploded my perception of time and space~

*brain fizzling and popping noises*

THIS IS ALL WRONG- THEY WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO- NOT NOW- AND KENDRAS MORE INEBRIATED THAN JACK SPARROW-

She doesn’t even know what that kiss just did to Donnie’s brain. (Nevermind his HEART). She probably won’t even remember it after that night-

AAAAA COKO HOW CAN THIS BE SO AMAZING and DEVASTATING at the same TIMEEEE??

(But seriously your story is amazing and I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for what happens next!!)

Okay I’m done. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

Drink water and when you can see what the sun looks like. ;)

~ Melissa

Thank FUCK the background was okay cause I struggle with that shit so much. Love seeing asks like these makes me all giggly kickin my feet n shit like a goof

Donnie’s finally in his “slightly better kinda” arc lol. Bout time innit? He’s been blended enough. Speaking of blenders I’ve been having Kendra in hers 🤓 and she ain’t done yet

Glad you liked the update tho! Actually a lot of yall did hot DAMN. I was planning to have atleast three this week but my backs killin me and I’m bein too slow.

[rubyin-wonderland]

Zoro's Girl

opla!Zoro x reader, Sanji x reader

Summary: Sanji wishes that he had Zoro's girl

WC: 4.6k

Warnings/tags: fem!reader, same deal as Sanji's Girl but the other way around, I think I angsted a little too close to the sun with this one, hurt/no comfort, reciprocated feelings, sad ending

Note: hope you enjoy this and I'm sorry in advance

Sanji's Girl

Sanji watches as you present your latest masterpiece to the crew. It's a majestic sight, three levels of cake, each a different flavour, and decorated intricately with frosting you made from scratch.

He had been doing a kitchen checkup as you worked on the cake, tiny delicate details on the side and a masterful recreation of the jolly roger which sat atop the mountain of cake.

You had been incredibly focused while you worked, hardly paying any mind to the outside world, only ever looking up when somebody entered the room, only to almost immediately return to your work.

The presentation received a fair amount of impressed applause. You smiled, and Sanji couldn't help but smile as well. The applause was certainly deserved, knowing the effort that had been put into it.

"Let's cut it up!" Luffy declared excitedly, much more excited to taste the art then to look at it.

You gladly set the cake down on the table, picking up a knife and asking around for what flavor everyone wanted.

After you were finished serving, you took a piece for yourself, and settled into the chair next to Zoro, smiling up at him. "Is it good?" You asked expectantly.

"Yes." He said simply, already working on a mouthful of the cake.

Sanji rolled his eyes. Of course that was all he had to say. The fool wouldn't know how to compliment food if his life was on the line.

A simple "yes" was hardly enough to explain how good your baking had been. In Sanji's opinion, the cake had been light but not too airy. It had baked evenly and the buttercream miraculously melded with each flavour of cake with no effort at all. As for the presentation, you had put an unbelievable amount of detail into the sides, tiny decals representing each of your crewmates, which just added to the emotional aspect of this act. He also thought about how you had carefully sourced every ingredient, and he hoped you knew your dedication was not unappreciated.

He was planning on telling you all of this, but you were too busy at Zoro's side, cozied up against the seemingly indifferent man.

Of course Sanji understood that you were Zoro's girlfriend. You had every right to curl up at his side, intimate and loving, but that never stopped Sanji's blood from boiling. You were so intelligent, talented and gorgeous. How in the world had you fallen for Zoro?

The whole crew had been surprised when the two of you first displayed your affections to each other. Neither of you had shown any previous indications and the two of you never explicitly stated what was going on. Lucky enough for the two of you, what was going on was quite obvious, so there was no need for explanation.

The relationship infuriated Sanji to no end, but he kept his mouth shut about it. This matter was none of his business, even if his brain demanded an answer out of you. No matter how hard he tried, it just confused him. Like a convoluted math equation, the facts never added up. It felt wrong.

Whatever the reason, you had picked Zoro. You seemed happy enough, so no concerns were ever brought up.

You sat now, leaning over the space between your chairs, against Zoro, head against his body as you looked contentedly at everyone enjoying the fruits of your labour.

A chorus of compliments were sent across the table, telling you about how good the cake was and thanking you for your surprise. You grinned, taking in the praise and feeling a little bashful about the compliments being poured onto you.

"It was nothing." You kept insisting, as if the process had not taken up a big portion of your time and attention over the past two days.

There were multiple calls for seconds, and a few for thirds, until everyone's dinner was as good as ruined, save only for your bottomless pit of a captain.

Eventually, once everyone had had their fill, you set aside the rest of the cake and everyone slowly left. You stayed behind, to clean the dishes, still giddy that everything had turned out so well.

Sanji waited to tell you his opinions until Zoro had gone, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the man's anger.

Zoro left the kitchen soon enough, but not without pressing a kiss to your cheek, an action that made you smile.

It was a special smile that was drawn from his kiss. There was a calmness to the smile, one not shared in the other ones you bore. You only smiled like this when you were perfectly happy. The smile was only ever unlocked by certain things. Things like a sunset, magnificent and mesmerizing, getting to sit down after a long day's work, or the silence that followed after a good bout of laughter. And Zoro, Sanji supposed.

Admittedly, Sanji wished he was the reason for that smile. It was a desperation no other thing compared to. He wanted you to feel comfortable enough, calm and satisfied, to allow your lips to break into that lovely smile.

Once Zoro was gone, Sanji sauntered up to you at the sink, pulling up a towel to begin drying the dishes for you, helping you put them away.

"That was an excellent cake." Sanji said, breaking you from the personal bubble you seemed to be trapped in. You looked up, present in the conversation, and no longer focused on scrubbing a stubborn fork.

"Oh. Oh! Thank you!" Your face broke out into a smile as you processed what he said, but not the right one. Sanji still took it as a win, even if there was a pang in his heart when he thought about it.

"It was immaculate. Rich, delicate cake with a creamy, thick buttercream. I've never had better." Sanji decided to risk a little flirt since Zoro was away. "As perfect as the woman who made it."

He saw you process the compliment, a tiny laugh escaping you. "Thank you Sanji."

Your lackluster response made his heart clench again. It was not unusual for him nowadays. For obvious reasons, you did not reciprocate his more than platonic words, a fact he understood, but it hurt all the same.

Every time he waited for a response from you his heart beat nervously, pleading with you to return his feelings, but he had no such luck, to the point that he had grown used to the feeling of pain in his chest whenever he spoke with you.

Sanji stayed silent for the rest of the chore, trying not to push you further. Before leaving the galley you said a soft goodbye, and left him alone.

He wondered how it had come to this. Surely he was missing something. Some forgotten piece in the puzzle that was his relationship with you. You were friends, certainly. You liked helping out around the kitchen and were usually sitting around the galley, ready to be of assistance.

The worst thing Sanji could think about was the time before Zoro. The time when it was just you and him, and he had suspected that you wanted a romantic relationship with him as much as he did with you.

A foolish thought now, seeing where your interests lay, but one he had all the same. One that haunted his nights and stuck to him during the days, one that piled upon itself, splitting into several different futures, possibilities that would never be.

Besides the heartaches, he had found his stomach growing restless when he thought too long about the possibilities. The infinities where he had ended up with you, the infinities where you despised him for his actions. It weighed on him heavily.

Had he had a chance with you? He doubted he would ever know. Before your relationship, there had been flirting on his part, of course. He worked in two fields, the kitchen and flattery. And since your main habitat was his first interest, you became deeply entwined with the second.

So maybe he had been too hopeful when he noticed your reciprocal actions. Teasing him back, something that would make him go red, his face burning and his heart pounding.

"I've never seen such a beautiful baker in my life." He had said as you carried a tray of cookies from the oven to the island. The words slipped off his tongue easily. You cocked an eyebrow, a smile spreading across your face. "What a nice thing to hear from the handsomest chef I know of."

He had nearly lost his mind. Every second of the interaction was burned into his head, scarred into the matter of his brain. The look on your face, the tone of your voice, the words and how you pronounced each one. It choked him and pulled him back to you. Even after you were tied to Zoro.

That damned swordsman.

Sanji wanted to know why. What the moronic man offered you to make you so enchanted with him. Did you not care for his constant affection? Did you find it overbearing? He could stop, of course. Anything for you. He would never say another of his pick-up lines if you were to be with him. Of course it would kill him, but it was an easy price to pay for your love.

When Sanji finished drying the dishes, he began to make dinner, typically a lengthy process, but with the burden of the thoughts in his head, it would pass by in no time at all.

He thought about your reciprocation again. Several instances between your first comment and when you had first presented yourself with Zoro. Instances where he was sure something would come from your words.

That had to have meant something. You would never lead him on, would you? The very thought disgusted Sanji. To accuse you of something so awful. You would never. His heart clenched.

Perhaps you had no idea what your words meant to him, unknowing of how romantic your words had been, but he doubted it heavily. There had been a glint in your eyes when you said those things. Certainly you had meant it. He felt insanity creeping into his head, closing in on his thoughts, when the galley door opened. In came Nami.

"Nami!" He was relieved to see someone to distract him from his constant thoughts of you. "Is there anything I can get you?" He asked, instantly trying his hand at flattering her.

It felt hollow now. His heart was not in it. He said the words out of instinct, no feeling behind his actions. Of course he liked Nami, she was a lovely woman, smart, gorgeous, and more than capable of protecting herself. But she wasn't you. And that was a fact he was beginning to cling a little too tightly to.

"No, I'm good. It was just getting too loud out there." Nami grumbled, laying out a map on the table, beginning to work.

Sanji remained silent, looking at the food cooking in front of him, a heavy blanket of sadness to cover him.

"What's wrong?" Nami asked. Sanji nearly jumped out of his skin. "What?" He sputtered over the word.

"What's wrong? you usually can't wait to call me gorgeous. What is wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong! I was just so stunned by your beauty I forgot how to act!" The excuse was weaker than usual. Nami set down her pencil. "No, seriously. What's going on with you?"

Sanji debated talking about it. You were taken. That was something he needed to deal with. Clinging to it would do nothing but hurt him.

He said your name, head sinking shamefully to the floor. Nami sighed, sounding unsurprised.

"I figured." She hummed, walking up to stand across from him at the island. "You're upset because she's with Zoro, right?"

It humiliated him to nod. He felt so small. It felt like such a silly thing to be upset over.

"What does she even see in him?" Sanji asked suddenly, moving to a saucepan, stirring furiously as he worked. "I mean he's strong, but so am I. What else?" Nami shrugged. "I don't know, but she really likes him." Sanji tried not to whine at how unfair it was. "I know that."

"Why are you so stuck on her?" Nami asked. "You aren't one to discriminate when it comes to your advances."

Sanji wanted to rant for hours about every time you gave even the slightest indication of appreciating his advances, followed by another rant about every time you flirted back, but he knew if he let himself run for too long, he would never stop talking.

"I thought she liked me back." It sounded stupid. How devastating to be in love over a few simple sentences you had said however long ago. "But now I don't."

He finished stirring the sauce, opting to shake up the sauteed vegetables.

He heard the door open again, immediately losing every indication of being vulnerable. As if he had not just been talking about his unending, unyielding admiration for you.

"Need any help in here?" You asked casually, an iron vice closing around Sanji's heart. Of course you would appear, helpful as ever during such an inconvenient time.

"No, I'm quite alright!" He regained his typical candor, trying to make sure there was no indication that anything was wrong could slip through.

Nami retreated back to the table. "Not busy with Zoro?" She asked you, partly for Sanji's sake and partly just to know. "No, he wanted to work out, so I figured I'd check out dinner." You smelled the air. "Smells good."

"Nothing but the best for you." Sanji said quickly, hardly any effort put in to give the compliment.

"Oh stop." You said with a laugh. And with a single moment, Sanji was struck with doubt again. It sounded like a joke, deflecting the compliment with a request for him to stop, but doubt picked at him. Did you mean it? Did you really want him to stop? Were you just trying to appease him?

He continued to work in silence, trying to hide the blush completely overtaking his face.

On one hand, he was delighted to have you there, but on the other, it was completely inconvenient to have you arrive just as he was finally talking about it with Nami.

And on a third hand, Sanji had another little bit of your relationship with Zoro to chew on while he worked.

Always working out, always training, practicing to achieve his dreams. Preoccupied with his life's work. Not you. Whenever he was practicing he ignored you, and even when he was present, he rarely seemed to show you affection. No hugs or kisses, nothing beyond what you initiated. An arm around your waist, maybe, or a quiet whisper against your ear. Nothing else.

How could you have gone from flirting with the most openly affectionate, caring and giving member of the crew to Zoro, who seemingly did none of those things? How could you go through such a change?

Were you secretly not interested in such bold affection? Was that why? Why you had chosen Zoro?

It hardly mattered. Sanji had reached no solid answer by the time he was done cooking, and after serving the meal, he was too fixated on subtly observing you and Zoro. Perhaps he would be able to see something. The smallest, most insignificant detail, that would crack the glass wall keeping him from finding the answer.

Instead of an answer, he got caught staring.

"What're you looking at?" Zoro asked, tone harsh, accusatory. Your head shot up next to him, following his eyeline to Sanji. "What?" You asked, looking between the two, keeping your voice regulated, a soft considerate tone. "What is it?"

"The cook's been looking at me all night." Zoro accused, pointing his knife at Sanji. "Relax." You said gently, tapping the knife, getting Zoro to put it down. "Sanji," you decided to ask him instead of Zoro. "What were you doing?"

Sanji came up with an answer quickly, hardly having to think before his reply slipped through his lips. "I was wondering if he was enjoying his dinner."

He felt lucky that he had not spoken the truth, knowing that would create a massive rift from which he doubted there would ever be a solution to.

"Zoro," your attention turned to your boyfriend, already problem solving. "Are you enjoying dinner?" You were not considered a peacekeeper for nothing.

Zoro grumbled under his breath, a word not heard by the rest of the room. You asked him to repeat it. "Yes." The word was dragged from his gritted teeth, a struggle with his answer. "Yeah. It's good."

"Good. No trouble." And then you smiled. It was not your special smile, but Sanji was just pleased to see the sign of happiness anyways. You were so gorgeous when you smiled.

"Back to the meal." You announced, and all was well with the world.

But not for Sanji. He spent the rest of the meal with an ache in his stomach, wondering what he had done to deserve this feeling of loss.

At the end of the meal, Sanji was more than happy to leave the dishes to someone else, taking his leave, but bringing a glass of sweet wine with him.

While the crew gathered for a drink above deck, in the open air of the night, Sanji retreated, not wanting to join them. He claimed to be tired, but he had no intentions of sleeping. Instead, he hung around the ship, in and out of rooms, wandering until he found a good place to silk, sipping at his wine in an attempt to quell his heartache.

He was foolish for thinking that you wanted him. The flirting must have been out of pity, he must have been too blinded by you to see what had been brewing between you and Zoro. There were thousands upon thousands of excuses for why he had felt the way he did. How could he be so idiotic?

"Hey."

You stood in the open doorway, casually holding onto a bottle of wine by its tapered neck.

"You alright?" You asked Sanji, looking at him in the darkness of the room, only illuminated by a small window filtering in moonbeams.

Sanji sighed in response. He doubted he could muster the strength to put on a happy facade with the weight on his chest.

"Yes." His false levity in his voice did nothing to hide his true state, and you were not tricked in the slightest. "I'm fine, you should go back to the party."

You shook your head firmly, stepping inside the room. "You are my best friend here. I won't let you suffer alone."

"Best friend?" The words shocked Sanji. He spared a glance at you, turning away from the window, the shadows shifting.

"Of course!" You swirled the wine gently, liquid splashing against the walls of its glass home. "We're always in the kitchen, you know? There's nobody else on this ship I see as much of." You hiccuped a laugh. "Well, maybe one."

After an awkward pause, you reached out with the bottle, an offering to Sanji. "More wine?"

He hesitated. He wanted too tell you to leave again, to let him suffer in peace, but he also could go for another glass.

"Please." You urged. "Talk to me. I'm worried for you." Your voice made his heavy heart flutter for a second before it sunk again.

He extended the arm with the glass, a lump in his throat as he accepted your offer.

You began to pour carefully. "Why aren't you up there? This room isn't between the deck and the kitchen." Sanji observed, hoping to briefly draw your attention away from his troubled mind.

"Oh." Your steadiness wavered a bit, and the wine bottle shook, a few stray droplets hitting the floor.

You curled in on yourself. "Me and Zoro got a little angry at each other." You explained simply, the bottle now held close to your chest. "He brought up the dinner thing again and it got heated, so I let to cool down. It wasn't anything big, just a simple argument."

You coughed once, signalling the end of your exposure, topping off Sanji's glass and taking a sip for yourself, straight from the bottle. Sanji said nothing about it. "Your turn. Why are you hiding here?"

Sanji's organs felt like they had been crushed with a pile of bricks. "I've been feeling lonely." He said, avoiding the whole truth.

"Come on, I spent half the day with you in the kitchen, am I not enough?" You asked playfully.

"No, you're plenty." Sanji coughed, hearing the rude undertones of his words. "That is, plenty beautiful."

He heard you sigh. "Sanji, you don't have to do that right now."

He felt stupid. Of course. You hated flirting. You preferred Zoro, with his straightforwardness, always speaking his mind, even if it was impolite.

"Sorry, I just-" The words caught in his throat. Should he just spit it out? Admit the truth and get it all over with? Tell you how every woman he had met since you was a mere shadow compared to your presence? To hear your reaction and subsequent rejection in favour of your boyfriend? To tell you of the times he had thought, ever so stupidly, that you had liked him back, now knowing that you had eyes for someone else?

He had never felt this way before. Lovesick had taken him before, but it had never held on so tightly. He despised the feeling.

"What's wrong?" You asked simply. Your voice offered no judgement, just a promise that you would be there for him. A support.

With a twisting in his gut, he answered truthfully.

"I'm in love with you."

Despite all his expectations, he did not feel better. Instead, he watched your reaction, as your face shifted through emotions, processing what he had said.

Your brows furrowed and your mouth set in a straight line, opening the smallest amount, as if you were about to reply, but your mouth shut once more, not ready to say anything else.

"Oh." Was all you could muster at first. "Sanji, I-"

He backed away, not ready to hear your rejection. "It's fine. You don't have to feel the same way, of course." He scrambled to save himself this agony.

He pressed a hand to his forehead in a futile attempt at relieving the pressure, wishing he had gotten a cigarette out before the conversation had started. "I know you don't feel the same way. And that's okay."

"I didn't say-" You protested, hoping Sanji would listen to your plea. Your mind filtered through why you wanted to say, running through your own collection of memories with Sanji, kept tucked away for days when Zoro was being distant, or had only said a hasty good morning or good night to you.

"You're with..." Sanji could not bear to speak the name of the man who held your heart. "Him. And I will be okay with that."

He wanted all this to end. He wished he could go back, to the way things were, back when he was bewitched by any woman who he saw on the street, each and every one a beauty in their own right. But now he clung to you. The memories of a few cute words and the feelings that had spread for them.

"Wait." Your voice wavered, but you managed to get Sanji to stop rambling. "Do you mean that?"

Sanji practically laughed. He meant the words with every cell in his body, from the finest hairs on his head to the very tips of his toes. Your presence warmed him, tickling his insides. He was so in love with you he hardly knew what to do with himself anymore.

"Yes. I mean it."

You took a step back, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. "I'm with Zoro." You said quietly, not a rejection per se, but a fact that needed to be said before anything continued.

"I know." Sanji took a long sip of his wine, practically emptying the glass by the end.

"Is there something else you want to say?" You asked, sensing the weight he still held with him. His shoulders were still heavy.

"I thought..." He cursed at himself. "I thought that you might feel the same. At least a little."

The two of you sat in a blanket of silence, weighing the both of you down. What were you supposed to say about that? That you had fallen in love with him as well, but feared that his flirting had been a farce? That you thought he flirted out of pity and that it was always a fake smile on his face? That you had picked Zoro because his brutal honesty always meant that you knew what he was truly thinking and what he did or did not like?

"Did you?" The question weakly drew itself from Sanji's lips, his head firmly facing the floor, tension running through every muscle.

Your hand reached behind you, shutting the door, the latch clicking into place. Alone now, nobody could hear your answer.

"I did." You finally answered after a long stretch of silence, your hand still loosely wrapped around the door handle.

Now Sanji felt the weight lift. You had felt the same, as he had suspected. If you told him you hated him now, he would have hardly cared. No matter what happened now, you had, at one point, felt the same.

Another long silence. Neither of you moved. "I did." You repeated. "But I thought your didn't."

Sanji's heart hurt once more, heartbroken to know his advances had seemed disingenuous.

"I'm sorry." He apologized quickly. "I did too." He breathed a long sigh of relief, his knees weak, leaning against the wall.

"Sanji," your tone frightened him. "This doesn't change anything." Your voice was soft, and in the moonlight, he could see the shine of tears in your eyes. "I'm still with Zoro, and I'm happy with him-" "That's okay." Sanji settled himself, standing up straight. "That's okay. Now you know. Now we both know." His gaze drifted to the floor and stayed there.

After a while, he turned away, facing the window again. "You can go back to the deck now, if you'd like."

Your hands tightened around the door handle and the wine bottle. "Are you okay? Or at least better?" You asked, knowing the answer to your first question was no, and the answer to the second could not change the first.

"I'll be fine." Sanji answered, hoping that in time, it could become true.

You heard your name called from the hall. Zoro had come to apologize. You bowed your head at Sanji. "I should probably talk to him."

Sanji jolted. "No. Not about this. About our argument." You said defensively.

"Right. Of course." His voice was strained. He looked back one last time, nodding at you, a movement you returned. You opened the door, walking out and shutting the door behind you.

"Zoro." "I'm sorry." "Me too. Let's go back."

Sanji listened until the conversation went out of his reach. Until he could no longer hear your voice.

He turned around, sitting against the wall, letting the moonlight shine in unfiltered. An empty glass sat in his hand. He should have asked for a refill before you left.

At least he had been right. You had liked him back. Unfortunately, you had not chosen him, and so it would not be.

He still loved you, and he expected there would always be a part of him that would long for you eternally, but maybe he could eventually go back to normal. Maybe he could find someone else. Of course they would not be perfect, they would never hold a light to you, but they would be beautiful and caring and gentle, and maybe, just maybe, he would get over you, but he doubted it.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Random Headcanons (18+)

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

A/N: Hehehe, it’s Raph time. Here ya go❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Manhandling, rough sex, mention of dirty talk, mentioning of brain numbing sex, loud sex, size kink.

Let’s get the obvious out the way - this man LOVES to manhandle you! It’s just so easy for him and takes so little energy from him, and all your reactions was worth it for him. This man does not tell you what position he wants you to get in, he puts up in that position. He will grab you by an arm and a leg, before turning you over from the missionary to doggy style.

And with a guy that likes to man handle, it is quite obvious that he also likes to do it rough. If there was one thing Raph loved while the two of you were having sex, was ramming into you at a high and brutal speed, with a hand around your neck, and his hand striking down on your butt cheeks, turning them red with a big three fingered handprint. The thought of it was enough to get the man rilled up.

Raph wasn’t much of a moaner, but that did not mean that he wasn’t loud. Goodness, Raph is loud. He groans, growls and has the deepest churrs. And he loooooved to dirty talk. The more lewd the better. And when you matched his energy - truly matching his freak - you pushed him to a whole other level, almost rendering you unable to speak or think as he worked his sexual magic on you.

It had happened several times before, that Raph turned you into a drooling mess, with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, after several orgasms in a row. And that was just how you and Raph liked your sex life. Extremely hot and heavy, giving all of your emotions and frustrations a way to go, while also providing each other extreme amounts of pleasure.

Raph himself was somewhat loud, but he really enjoyed making you very loud. There was just something about the way you would moan for him, that made him go absolutely crazy, wanting more. One was to get you to moan loudly, but if Raph made you scream out of pure pleasure, he considered it an absolute win. And though it wasn’t the goal, Raph couldn’t help but feel prude if the two of you somehow managed to wake up half the lair.

Now, there’s many things you knew about Raph. You knew about his kinks for the rough stuff, and you knew about how he found you acting innocent and helpless under his large frame too tempting to leave alone. But you also had a faint idea that he loved how much smaller you were than him. It was not something Raph had ever told you directly, but it was pretty obvious. Raph was definitely larger than you, with him being a super sized mutant turtle and all, and he definitely seemed to be getting a kick out of it when you were having sex. And luckily for him, you did as well, finding the size difference more than just a little exciting.

[smthnsmthn-whumpblog]

i think my fav kind of whumpee is the one that already has issues prior to the whump. maybe they had a bad childhood, maybe they’re part of a community that gets looked down on and they’ve internalised it or maybe they were just born with a brain that seems to hate them. maybe all three. either way, their mental health is not exactly thriving, but they’ve gotten so good at hiding it that no one really knows. or at least they don’t know how bad it is.

they could be the comic relief of the group (my personal fav), the sad clown trope, always cracking jokes with a big ol grin so everyone’s too busy laughing to notice how their smile never quite reaches their eyes. they could be the quiet one, not exactly aloof and distant - they still hang out with people - but they tend not to draw much attention to themselves so that no one looks hard enough to see their pain. they could be stoic, brave and unwavering, resilient, appearing tough and unbreakable to all the others, that way no one worries about them - or questions what made them that way.

then the whump happens. any kind of whump, so long as it exacerbates their insecurities and/or fears. it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back and all of a sudden whumpee’s true mental state is on full display. the team are taken aback at first, because this is so far from the whumpee they knew (or thought they did) but now, with the benefit of hindsight, they can look back and realise that the signs were always there. they just didn’t notice them. cracks in the facade, like flashes of pain in their eyes almost too quick to notice, or strategic and expertly done changes of subject when a certain something comes up in conversation. there were clear warnings. but the team missed all of them, and now whumpee is well and truly broken.

cue lots of guilt from everyone

[lafiola]

The Recruiter x Fem!Reader [PART 1]

cw: gun play, blood kink, forced oral (f receiving), forced kissing, non-consensual touching, sadism, dead dove: do not eat, non-consensual masturbation, stalking

!!: the tags correspond to the second part, but I'm leaving them here just in case

I'm going to die tomorrow, and if you find this, it's probably too late. It's embarrassing that I don't know you, and you don't know me, but I hope you can have some empathy for my fate; and maybe somewhere where I can be happy, that will help me have some compassion for my next life.

.

.

.

.

The tiny letter you had left as a pitiful legacy had been left behind; on one of those stone benches in the enclosed park, where the tramps used to go to sleep. You thought that many of them would pay no attention to it, and lost sighs during each word would be of no use, but you did it anyway: you leaned the paper in a corner, pressed by a stone so that the wind would not blow it away. Your letter was going to be read; at least the first few words. That was enough.

Your death was going to be disastrous, that was certain. You had chosen one of the highest bridges, the one over one of the busiest avenues. When it was three or four o'clock in the morning you were going to jump off it; your body would crash to the asphalt, interrupting traffic, and your brains would paint the pedestrian crossing where a group of police and assigned professionals would soon come to inspect your remains. Quite dramatic, to be sure, but memorable.

You were still a bit sad to die like that; with so many people watching. That was what you wanted most of all: to die. It was as simple as that. But who could assure you that no one would record you? Who would forget you at the end of the year? People really die when they are forgotten, because what is man but the result of a social construction; and if at least one human being could have a fragment of you in their memory, engraved like your flesh against the rough ground at the dry impact of the fall, something so simple and brutal, how could you really disappear? You were to be the icon of an ephemeral internet star; some pitiful soul representative of the underdogs, those unable to do what you would do in a couple of hours.

You didn't want your soul locked up in limbo, in the same world where you could no longer find your spouse. You wanted to go with them.

You felt it deep inside you; in that corner so easily mistaken for the heart. You knew that they had died long ago, after they had returned and disappeared again to play those infamous games they talked so much about. Big money, they said; that there was a big prize for whoever could make it to the finish line. Many people in one place, like rats, and prey to some strangers with morbid ideas.

True or not, your spouse had no longer returned home. Dead or missing with the supposed prize. It didn't matter to you; you had spent every last penny to pay off your debts. Debts that were not really yours, but no one else's either. It was just you, the bridge... and the stranger in the suit underneath. 

Someone in the middle of the street.

A car or two honked their horns from time to time as they passed by the man. He kept looking up at you. You couldn't quite make out his features, but you'd bet it could be grief judging by his free hand raised in the air; between his fingers a piece of paper that suddenly reminded you of your letter. You felt ashamed again.

‘’It's not safe to stand on the edge of such a high bridge!‘’ he shouted. You could hear a smile in his voice.

You didn't answer, but as soon as you saw him head for the stairs leading to the bridge, you jumped down to make a dash for the other end. Your plan now was to escape. If the man caught up with you, you were going to have to explain yourself or, worse, face the police or paramedics, as you had sometimes seen with other cases of interrupted suicides. You didn't want to face up to something so overwhelming. Death shouldn't be overwhelming!

Halfway down the stairs you stumbled, and had to grab the handrail with both hands. Your body slammed sideways into the rest of the steps, and your thighs burned with the friction of the icy metal. Wearing shorts had not been a good choice. When you got to your feet as soon as you heard another call, you went back down step by step until you hit the street, and didn't look back before catching your breath and running as fast as you could; your heart in your throat, and your name in the wind, spoken by a stranger's voice with a laugh akin to that of a friend.

The stranger in the suit who seemed to know you, and whom you had never seen before in your life.

Night was already coming to the city. You had to keep your eyes open and gather your courage to cross the emptier streets; you avoided bars, restaurants or crowded areas. Your goal was to escape the pair of hurried footsteps behind you. He seemed to be about to catch up with you.

Said and done, a hand with strong fingers grabbed one of your arms, and made you stumble to the side. Your back hit one of the walls of a closed alley. When you opened your eyes, the pain clouding your vision, it took you some time to notice the imposing figure of the stranger in front of you. He was panting as much as you, but he smiled consistently while arching his eyebrows.

The sound of his briefcase hitting the floor startled you. Seconds later, your letter appeared in his free hand again.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” he asked in a choked murmur. A few strands of hair fell into his face, accentuating his darkened eyes. His sallow skin glistened under a sheen of sweat. “The letter—it’s yours.”

“How do you know my name?” The only sensible thing you could think of to say was that. Tiredness and nerves interrupted something in your head.

His hand released your arm, caressing your bare skin to soothe the pain. It was an instant. Your letter ended up in your hands; the stranger fixed his hair, jacket and shirt, and then took his distance. You were about to repeat your question, when the name of your spouse came out of his mouth.

Name, age, address and debt. You immediately jumped at the last part.

"I've already paid off that debt!”

"I know," he nodded, "That's not why I've addressed you.”

"And why did you chase me all the way out here then?”

"It has been deemed necessary for you to know of the passing of your spouse. They have left nothing behind; but perhaps this news is more than enough for you to be able to live in peace.”

His eyes fell on the letter in your hands. You shook your head, stretching your arms out to him. The paper trembled over your fingers as a breeze brushed against it.

"I have done everything I had pending so far," you replied. "What remains for me is the solitude of the early dawn, and with it, my impending death.”

“Solitude?” he arched his eyebrows again, dwarfing the smile. “You seek solitude on the busiest avenue to end your life?”

“It's not something you should be interested in.”

“It seems to me that you're afraid of dying alone,” he snorted. “In fact, I think you were waiting for someone like me to show up to save your life. If this is distressing, it's because of your lack of ability to make a good decision.”

You choked on your saliva. “Excuse me? What was that all about?”

Your name, your age and your address hung in the air after leaving between his lips. Lips that you didn't stop seeing until his voice faded into the night.

“How do you know so much about me?" you whispered. "What have you done to my partner?”

“What you would have done to yourself had you not been responsible enough for your own problems,” he replied. “Congratulations on paying off your debt.”

.

.

.

.

A weirdo, that's what you thought of the stranger when you saw him leave. He was heading to the bridge again; possibly to recruit more people desperate for some money. Something like that was what you imagined all the time when you thought of your spouse. Had they suffered a lot in the process? Where had they been taken? Were they coming for you, or did the stranger really show up to announce your loss?

For a week you continued to ponder the idea of suicide, while living with paranoid scenarios at every suspicious sound or face. Sometimes you would turn around as you walked, looking for the same eyes in the crowd, and you would even look for a job to cover the cost of rent a little far from where you lived. Until you could sell that house you were going to keep hiding from a ghost.

You went back to the torturous routine; you fed when memories did not punish your mind, and slept when your heart no longer ached. No way did you ever cross the bridge again, let alone the adjacent avenues. You struggled to regain your composure until nothing helped: The Recruiter had returned at the three-month mark.

You found him on a platform, casually sitting in complete solitude. At least until you ran down the stairs. The train had already left, the stranger's eyes were on you, and there was nothing you could do when you had your body on the same surface. You didn't even look him in the face; you feigned ignorance, barely trembling when you heard him sigh very close to you.

“I haven't seen you again in a long time,” he said. “Was the suicide plan finally scrapped?”

You snorted to keep from letting out a dry, unfunny laugh. “I didn't want to run into you, and right now I realize I did the right thing.”

“Until now.”

When you turned to see him, he had his eyes on you again. It was an intense, opaque gaze, with a feeling akin to desire; something that made your skin crawl, and made you swallow dry. His smile didn't even feel polite anymore.

“You're really not going to take me?” you asked. “You're not going to do to me what you do to all those people?”

“What do you think I do to people?”

“They told me,” you continued in a broken voice. He arched his eyebrows, intrigued. “They told me about a ridiculous game with red and blue papers, and about the money and the slapping, too. Then they went home, and some time later disappeared again.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “it's not my fault. I never forced them into anything.”

“You killed them.”

“Oh, please,” he laughed. “I am a simple messenger. I bring the good news, and they decide. Nothing that happens next is up to me.”

“I don't believe you.��� You let out a sigh, clasping your hands together over your lap. You kept your gaze on them. “What are you doing here, at the train station? What business is waiting for you?”

“Are you suddenly interested in me? How wonderful; I feel my cheeks burning.”

“You're ridiculous.”

The Recruiter's laughter broke the silence like an invasive melody. That made you nervous.

“Don't get any weird ideas about me!” you added.

“I've gotten a lot of ideas about you, but none really terrible,” he replies. “You're different from them; you're better. A lovely version.”

When you raised your head to look into his eyes, you found a slight smile on his face and a much warmer glow in his gaze. The Recruiter had leaned back, resting his back against the wall. Both legs slightly apart, and his hands on his thighs; his suitcase rested on the floor, brushing against one of his shoes.

The closeness of his right leg to your left leg did not make you uncomfortable at all, which might have generated some sort of embarrassment if not for the realization of his recent confession.

“You talk about me as if you know me,” you said. “Should I take that as a warning that I've been being investigated by a man in a suit?”

“You think that's sexy?” His smile widened as if fueled by the grace of a demon. That glint in his gaze returned to the same as before: dark and hungry.

"I think you are sick, and if you don't stop now, then I will go to the police.”

“Good luck with that,” he snorted. In one neat motion he rose from his place, and bent to pick up his suitcase before giving you one last look. “May the night be brief for you; I hope so with all my heart. I know you have not been sleeping well.”

“Because of you,” you growled.

The Recruiter let out another laugh, this time more charming. The echo continued even as he retreated on his way to the stairs, completely ignoring the arrival of the last train.

The idea that he had been resorting to the bridge to witness the resolution of your own grief made your hair stand on end. You didn't want to accept that someone so crazy was after you; but this man had clearly been tracking you, and you didn't know how much longer this situation would last without something terrible happening to you. How many women survived their stalkers? You were not going to be the exemption from a tragedy.

[thexsanctuaryx]

so apparently I'd read this chapter too -- goodNESS I have been slacking

HOWEVER -- absolutely worth the reread

AHEM!

so let it be known, I needed a lil brain break so I was literally sitting in bed reading this in the dark on my phone, but I had to get back up to go back to my computer because I had SO much to say that I literally needed to be able to click the read more so I could remember everything I needed to say

-weeps-

this chapterrrrr

soft miguel is my WHOLE life, from the note to the way he was when he greeted her in her office

soft big bubba 🥺👉👈

and honestly I DO NOT blame her for suffering through the weekend, if I had to wait that long I'd be a goddamn mess

the way she could immediately tell something was different in the scene in her office based on his energy -sobs some more-

and the way he tells her that he only feels okay when he's safe with her, and insists that he really genuinely missed her uuuuugggghhhh

I need to NOT go over every detail of this chapter but it was SOOO good

the part where she finally confronts him about how sick he's getting and that she's his equal in their research and really puts her foot down, the whole, "I am speaking." goddamn you TELL him babygirl. MAKE HIM listen.

and she DID. and he really took her seriously.

the amount of Leveling that happened in this chapter.

all of the solid communication.

ugh! ugh! ugh!

finally, admitting to each other that they love each other

-weeps-

there was just so much softness which is absolutely candy with how heated this series is

and honestly -- aside from the plot and what not

can I just say? you broke up each scene SO perfectly, like where you chose to end each scene and then move on to the next, so SO well done, I love that you knew exactly where to leave off before moving on because that's something that I struggle with a lot

your writing in general is just always so impressive which I believe I said in the last chapter but your pacing, and the writing itself, and your plotting

absolutely wonderful!!!

I think I miiight've read the next chapter as well but it was so long ago that now it's like reading it for the first time

I do apologize again for taking SO long to share and leave commentary, I really hope this fic gets more attention once the next movie comes out because it absolutely deserves it

Decadent chapter 11

prev || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist || next

Summary: Real communication can feel better than anything

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara from the film Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse x female reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: cursing, talking about blood consumption and stuff, not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

Your heart fluttered as he possessively pulled you on top of his chest. Your cheek rested against the solid warmth of him as his muscled arms wrapped you up like a treasure.

"My girl," he sleepily mumbled, lazily running his hands over the curves of your body. "Love you."

Miguel fell asleep.

You stayed awake the rest of the night....

Dawn was breaking before your heavy eyelids began to drift closed.

Miguel had slept soundly the entire night, touching you in some form or fashion. You spent the first hour on his chest, soothed and thrilled by the steady thump pulsing underneath his massive chest.

Your arm lost all circulation, so you rolled off him, hoping not to disturb him. He was out cold, poor thing.

You were reeling. He...loved you? Would he even remember saying that in the morning?

And worse, Miguel was not doing so well. You were truly becoming desperately worried for his physical health. You couldn't fathom the strength of will and character it took for him not to bite your throat last night during your passionate interlude.

You curled up against his side, tracing your fingertips over the length of his arm, grateful to be some sort of solace for him. But there was no peace for you this night.

The next morning, he was gone. So typical.

He did, however, leave you a note. Which was lovely, actually, since he was a 'wait and see you at work' or 'maybe send a text' type of guy.

Thank you for letting me stay. I'm not feeling too well. Going home to sleep. See you at work Monday. Don't worry, I'm just tired. You were so beautiful last night. Can't wait to see you again.

Well. That was something.

So he couldn't wait to see you, but he wanted to wait til Monday at work? Today was Saturday. What in the world was he always doing on the weekends? Maybe Spider-Man-ing. You weren't entirely sure, honestly.

Maybe you could find the courage to call or text him - just to check on him. You should try to wait until tonight at least. But waiting until Monday to see him felt like absolute torture.

Whatever. No games. You made it until late afternoon in case he was sound asleep and then you texted.

'Got your note. It was sweet. I hope you feel better. Please call or come over if you need to. I'm here.'

He texted right back.

'I know you're there. My guardian angel. I was just thinking of you. I'm making empanadas.'

You huffed and fired back.

'Without me? Thannnnks, Mig.'

'Sorry, I should have said - I was making empanadas, but then I felt sick, so I stopped. But when I'm feeling better, you'll have to come over again.'

You didn't know what to say to that. He was sick? Like, really sick? Or lack-of-blood sick? Ughhh.

'I'm so worried about you. Are you sure you don't want me to come over anyway?'

He took a few minutes to answer this time, which was not reassuring.

'I don't want to hurt you.'

You swallowed hard as your eyes moistened with the beginning of tears.

'You didn't hurt me last night.'

He didn't answer for a while. Which did hurt.

But later that night, he did reply to you again.

'I feel asleep earlier. Sorry. I want to talk to you in person, but I'll be out of town tomorrow. But I promise we'll talk on Monday, okay?'

You texted back that it was fine. It felt awful. You wanted to see him. He said he loved you! Wasn't he going to mention that? Didn't he want to see you again?

You decided to stick to your don't-obsess-over-Miguel plan. You called your aunt, cooked some meals for the week, and had an impromptu hang with your neighbor/friend Gwen. You had a glass of wine and a bath Sunday evening and on Monday morning, you dressed to kill.

Miguel was waiting for you in your office, which sent a thrill of anticipation fizzing through your body.

Then you remembered what happened the last time you had sex. He promoted you, kicked you out of his office and "dumped" you.

"Hey," he breathed, pushing off your desk, where he had been leaning, scrolling through his phone. "Look at you." His scarlet eyes flashed appreciatively, tracing over the length of your body. He looked absolutely delicious as always. Today he was dressed in all black, but he did appear to be a little tired, despite how well he usually wore dark colors.

Stepping closer, he reached out for you, pulling you into his arms and brushing his thumb across your cheek before lowering his mouth to yours.

You gasped out in surprise, your knees going weak for a moment, which made him smile against your lips as he tasted them one at a time.

Your brain was slow to catch up - he had really managed to surprise you. But finally, you dropped your bag to the floor beside you and slid your hands over the breadth of his chest to link behind his neck.

He kissed you sweetly...adoringly. Without agenda. It was a kiss of relief, as if you were being cherished, rather than seduced. You melted into him, happy to allow him to wrap you up and pull you off your feet.

His warm breath mingled with yours and you felt him smile again.

"Good morning," he whispered. "I missed you."

It struck you then, that this wasn't a co-worker greeting (obviously) or a friends-with-benefits greeting. This was different. Miguel had never done this - not without it leading to clothes flying.

You rubbed your nose against his affectionately, feeling very much like a girlfriend suspended in his arms, tiptoes barely touching the ground.

"I missed you too," you admitted between soft kisses.

He finally set you down but didn't release you from his possessive hold. "Sorry I was gone yesterday. I wanted to see you. I hope it's okay that I just barged in here."

You chuckled as he finally let go of you. "It's your company. I don't think you need my permission to come into my office. I'm just glad it was for a good reason."

You eyed him warily. "You are in here for a good reason, right? I'm not being promoted to another wing of the building and banned from the lab?"

His dark eyebrows shifted almost comedically. "Banned? What are you talking about? Why would I do that?"

You should probably tread carefully, but...when had you ever?

Reaching for you bag, you grabbed it and moved around your desk to start getting organized for your day (and to give you a little space to say these things to him).

"That's what happened last time," you explained. But he still looked confused. "You know - the last time we slept together. You sort of dumped me, promoted me, gave me my own office, all while kind of insulting my work ethic and dedication? It was pretty confusing."

He slowly nodded, sliding his hands into his dress pants pockets. "Yeah. I can see that. Not my finest moment. The promotion was real though."

"Thanks?" You somewhat sarcastically replied. "Anyway," you went on, waving your hand dismissively, "When I saw you in here this morning, after what happened between us at the gala Friday night, I was sort of afraid of...another promotion."

His eyes narrowed in confusion as he took your words literally for a moment. Then you saw his expression shift as he began to understand. "You thought...no. No, I just wanted to see you, I promise."

He made his way around your desk and took hold of your arms. "I was waiting for you because, after what happened between us Friday, I was hoping..." He trailed off, scarlet eyes shifting uncertainly

"What, Miguel? What are you hoping?" You gently prodded, starting to truly believe that maybe the two of you could have a chance together. You traced your fingertips over his jawline.

Wetting his lips, he took your hand in his, tenderly caressing your fingers. "I don't deserve you. But...after the gala, I thought maybe..." He shook his head, trying to figure out how to say what he felt.

"I missed you so much and...the only time I don't feel like I'm going insane with hunger is when I'm safe with you."

You gasped out, your eyes shining with wonder.

"I know it doesn't make sense because...well, because I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you," he tried to explain. "And...I could, if I'm not careful. I really could. But it's like you're my darkest temptation. And also my greatest peace. I'm not sure what to do about that. But I can't lose you. That's the one thing I know."

You squeezed his hands right back, feeling at least somewhat reassured. "You're not going to lose me. Just don't push me away, okay?"

Miguel wasn't kidding about not feeling well. Once the two of you spent about an hour in the lab, you noticed him missing details - obvious things. He misspoke a few times, misplaced a few items and finally, just before lunch, looked like his gigantic body was about to hit the ground.

Okay, enough.

Once the other staff and personnel cleared out for a lunch break, you asked Miguel to speak privately in his office.

He sat down on the edge of his desk with his head in his hands. You stood in front of him, reaching to rub his temples with your fingertips.

"Talk to me," you softly implored. "You're scaring me."

He nodded, exhaling shakily. "Just hungry, I think. This is the worst it's ever been."

"Miguel, look at me," you directed, gently tipping his chin up so you could peer into his eyes. "This can't go on. You need some blood. You can't even function. Not in any working capacity anyway."

He shook his head adamantly. "No...I'm not going to do that to you. I told you."

"Baby, I'm not talking about biting me or hurting me - hey, look at me.” He tried to shrug you off but you pushed him back down to his spot on the desk’s edge. Even in his weakened state, he could probably overpower you, but you had to try.

"Listen...I'm standing here, in my lab coat. We're in a professional environment," you explained. "I'm not trying to tempt you here. This has nothing to do with me. Miguel, look at me, please."

He reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet yours. He looked so exhausted and broken and your heart burned with love and concern for him.

"You're a brilliant man. A scientist. A geneticist. This is science," you insisted. "You need blood to survive. You're going to get sick and maybe even die without it - "

"Not if we figure out how - "

"No! I am speaking," you fired back, silencing him with your tone and your determined glare. "I am your research partner right now - a position you promoted me to because you trust my opinions and agree with my conclusions.

"Right now, I'm not someone you come to when you need a fix or a fuck or just some comfort. I have been all of those things at one point, but I am your equal, so you have got to listen to me."

You had his attention now. Good.

"You need blood. It's not negotiable. We can do it today, right now, in the lab, clinically. It doesn't have to happen with sex, or...out on the street. No one has to die. We can draw blood and you can drink it out of a test tube or a bag or a beaker - I don't really care," You reasoned. "You don't have to bite anyone or hurt anyone. It doesn't even have to be my blood! But you have got to feed."

His head dropped in defeat.

"Miguel, tell me you understand," you insisted, reaching for his hands. “I know the blood bags don’t work as well for you, but maybe, if it’s fresh blood…”

When he peered back up at you from his stool, his crimson eyes were wet with tears. "I've gone so long without blood. I've tried so hard... Everything just hurts so fucking much, all the time. I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. I can’t concentrate. I can't think, or eat. All I do is sleep.”

"I know, baby," you nodded, pulling him into your arms. You were almost the same height with you standing in front of him like this. "It doesn't make you weak. It's not like an addiction. This is your sustenance."

"I don't want to," he weakly protested, his forehead resting against your chest. "You can't understand how much I don't want to."

"I know, but this is reality. You could die - do you understand that?"

Easing back, you grasped his shoulders, gazing at him intently. His expression was so broken, but enough was enough.

"You told me you feel safe with me...that you can't lose me, right? You just told me that in my office," you reminded him.

He reluctantly nodded, eyes full of despair.

"Do you honestly think I can lose you either? Do you have any idea what that would do to me?" You brushed your fingers through the hair that always fell carelessly across his eyes. Your own gaze flickered down to the pout of his perfect mouth and you leaned in, sealing your lips to his. You poured your soul into the passion of your kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You stepped between his spread thighs, pressing your body against the solid wall of him. He kissed you back, deeply. His massive arms wrapped you up has thick fingers gripped your hips, pulling you closer still. The thickness of his thighs caged you in - there was nothing between you not touching or desperately trying to get closer to the other.

You licked into his mouth and he moaned. He felt weak but never too much to refuse your touch. Just as his hands began to wander down to trace the swell of your bottom, you eased back.

Your breath mingled with his as he waited, unable to anticipate what you wanted, or what you would do next.

You wanted everything from him - all of him, but he needed to know this wasn't about sex or tempting him to feed. With one more soft kiss to his mouth, you reached for his face, staring deeply into his shining eyes.

“Miguel, I love you,” you tenderly whispered. You would have thought your feelings were a neon sign, but you had to make sure he understood. He could reject you, but you were really hoping he wouldn’t. Not after he murmured his love to you in your bed - not after Friday night up against that wall. And not after him telling you this morning that he couldn’t lose you.

“I love you and I can’t lose you either,” you went on, passionately. “Please…please don’t leave me. I-I can’t bear to see you hurt like this. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you - "

“You love me?” He whispered, his eyes wide as his lungs tripped over the next few breaths he attempted to take.

“Yes,” you tearfully laughed out. “Yes, isn’t it obvious? I love you so much.”

Miguel’s eyes glistened as he touched his forehead to yours. “I wasn’t sure. I could only hope that this was more than just…” Pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth, he stopped his own rambling. “I love you too.”

Coming up: Will Miguel feed? If so, how?

And later: some universal clues start to fall into place as this story hurtles toward its end.

next

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[uniquethingtastemaker]

Vil x Reader -- Body Swap Pt 2

Part 1, Part 2

Recap and Summary: You and Vil swapped bodies at the beginning of VDC. After a brutal confrontation in the last part, Vil found himself on the other end of his insensitive behavior. He's left in shambles. You run your first rehearsal, Epel goes on an adventure, and you're determined to pick Vil back up.

Word Count: ~3.5k

Author's Note: It's finally here! I had way too much fun writing Epel's part. I feel like I nailed the emotional scene at the end. I was a concerned about the characterization, but Vil's having a hard time. He'll get more sassy and on his feet later on in the series. Shout out to @solxamber for commenting on some little post I made and reigniting my interest. You have done a deep service for everyone lol. Also comments are always appreciated

Tags: @solxamber @marsinrain @roseapov @kj-turned-pink @knorreine @twistedpink @red1sg0n3 @nimko @l00naverse

You don’t have time to worry about Vil once you leave Ramshackle. You’re on a tight schedule. You use all your brain power to get through the day. By lunch, you have to meditate in Vil’s room to recalibrate. You don’t bother checking out his room other than observing that his bed is soft and comfortable. You almost fall asleep from exhaustion. Thankfully, Rook is your personal alarm clock now. 

You stop an explosion in potions. You scold the offending party, while Crewel praises you. It feels good. By the end of the day, nobody suspects you. You catch the person you’re looking for to help Epel, before slipping away to meditate in peace. By the time practice rolls around, you’re prepared. You hope Epel likes his surprise.

——————

Epel waits in the courtyard. [Y/N] didn’t say who he was meeting. 

“It would be more exciting for it to be a surprise,” they told him.

A face pops up in front of him with a wide grin. Epel yells, jerking back. They’re hanging upside down and have a mess of black hair with a shock of bright pink. The last distinguishing feature is their big, red eyes. Epel does a double take. He knows this person. 

“Hello!” Lilia Vanrogue greets, “Your dorm leader informed me of your situation. I agreed to offer my assistance.” 

Lilia flips around, landing in front of the boy. The Diasomnia vice leader grabs Epel’s hand and tugs him along. 

“I’m going to teach you the advantages of being short!” he declares, looking back with a grin. 

—----------

Epel’s mouth falls to the floor as sparks fly through the air. Green, pink, and blue magic clash lighting the cloudy sky. Epel watches Lilia slip underneath Malleus’ defense to land a shocking blow. Is this what [Y/N] wanted him to see?

“Fa–Lilia used to be much stronger than Malleus,” Silver informs, “This match will probably end in a tie.” 

As soon as he finishes the sentence, Lilia calls out to Malleus. 

“I think that’s enough for today. I have to teach the little one how to fight,” Lilia tells him. 

Malleus hums, stopping his attacks. Lilia skips back over to the half-terrified, half-awed Epel. 

“I’ll be teaching the basic moves, my dear,” the third-year chirps, “Come along, Child of Man.” 

—----------

“How about we test your skills by sparing with Sebek?” Lilia suggests. 

The green-haired boy gasps in offense.

“How can a mere human compare to me?! I’m Malleus’ guard. This pathetic prune is not worth my time!” Sebek refuses.

Epel’s face darkens and his eyes sharpen into a glare. He doesn’t like being taken lightly. He’ll put this cucumber in his place.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport, Sebek. This is good for you. You don’t have any friends,” Lilia tells him, “I’m worried about you.”

Sebek pauses at the statement. He harrumps, crossing his arms.

“I would never want to concern my teacher so I will spar with you, human!” Sebek declares, “You won’t hold a candle to the years of training I’ve had with Lilia!”

The Diasomnia freshman puffs out his chest and struts to the makeshift dueling ground. Lilia dons a mischievous smile. He leans over to Epel. 

“Remember what I taught you,” he whispers. 

Epel gives a sharp nod. He’ll employ Lilia’s suggestions. He has an ability Sebek doesn’t have and Epel will use it to his advantage. 

The Pomefiore student steps into the arena. Lilia counts them down. 

“3, 2, 1, Start!” 

The duel begins. There’s a short flurry of green and purple. Epel ducks and dodges out of the way. His breath quickens as he uses his agility to his advantage. However, his stamina is less than a guard in training. Sebek knocks him off his feet with a well-timed spell. Epel crumples to the floor as the other laughs with triumph. 

“HAHA! I told you, human! You’re no match for me. Do you surrender?” he questions, approaching the lavender-haired boy. 

Epel waits until Sebek is close enough. Then, he pounces. He uses everything he learned growing up as a country boy to tackle his opponent to the ground. Then, he does the unthinkable. Epel sinks his teeth into Sebek’s cheek. 

Sebek screams.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!! THIS IS BLASPHAMY!” he shrieks. 

Epel’s ears ring with the volume. He hears Lilia cackling in the background. He thinks he makes out, “This is hilarious! Can we keep him?” 

Epel rides out the wave, holding on tight. Sebek bucks and thrashes like a bull, but this is the Pomefiore student’s territory. Sebek takes the hint and forfeits. 

“I surrender! I surrender! Just get off me, you cretin!” he cries. 

Epel releases his hold and stands up. He grins at Lilia. The older student clutches onto Malleus, leaning onto him for support. He cries with laughter. 

“How dare you, human! That was a dirty tactic!” Sebek protests, stomping up to the shorter boy. 

It’s hard to take him seriously when he has huge teeth marks on his face. For a moment Epel feels guilty, but then he sees Lilia and doesn’t feel bad anymore. The older fae doubles over, smacking the giant Malleus’ arm. Epel contains a laugh. 

Malleus chuckles, “Come here, Sebek. Let me heal you.” 

Sebek’s jaw drops and his eyes well up with tears. 

“I don’t deserve Waka-sama’s blessing,” he says, choking up. “But I will gladly and gratefully accept it if you offer it.” 

Malleus shakes his head. Before Malleus can snap his fingers, Lilia stops him. 

“Let me—Let me get a photo of this,” he wheezes.

He pulls out his phone, snapping a photo of Sebek scowling alone. He urges Epel to get in the photo. 

“Don’t you want to have a commemorative photo to take to your friends?” Lilia questions, before waving him over to urge Epel. “You have to! Vil would be disappointed if you didn’t show proof of your encounter. This is legendary.” 

As the Pomefiore student steps next to a frowning Sebek, Lilia praises him. 

“Epel, you did a fantastic job!”

Epel beams. 

Afterward, Malleus heals Sebek with a snap of his fingers. Lilia addresses Epel.

“You’re a delight, Child of Man. You’re welcome to train with the boys anytime. They need a little chaos. It’s good training,” Lilia invites, “I believe you’ve learned the perks of being short and dainty. I look forward to seeing you around. Again, please visit us. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.” 

Epel gives a satisfied grin. 

“Thank you. I will,” he answers. 

He’s glad [Y/N] sent him on this adventure. 

—-------------

You leave Vil’s dorm room and catch a few Pomefiore students on your way out. You adjust their uniforms and give them a few stern tips. They take your advice before skittering away. You’ll work on redefining Vil’s character into something more natural for you later. You head to the studio. 

The room is empty when you enter. You set up the equipment and start stretching. Rook appears behind you. 

“Trickster! Your performance today was fantastique! I heard all about your escapades,” he praises. 

You laugh, “Thank you.” 

More people trickle in. Epel is absent, but that’s expected. The only person missing is Vil. You frown. 

“Did Vil skip classes today?” you question the other freshman. 

“Yes,” Deuce replies. 

The others quiet down when the leader of Pomefiore is mentioned. You purse your lips. You’re not surprised. He took a huge blow this morning. There’s no point to drag him here. Vil already feels humiliated. You'll talk to him after rehearsal. 

You gain everyone’s attention and begin rehearsal. 

—------------

Your eyes widen as you stare at Jamil through the mirror. He adds a stylistic flair to part of the footwork. You pause the music from your watch. You give him an intense look. 

“Jamil, do that move again. I wanna see if we can alter the choreography to add that style in,” you explain.

He glances at you, stunned. Jamil regains his composure and repeats the move. You spin around to face him. 

“Jamil, what are your favorite songs to freestyle dance to? I want to watch,” you demand. 

He freezes while Kalim brightens. 

“Jamil, you should do Walkin’ on Water by Stray Kids! (author’s shameless plug. go listen to them. they’re my favorite artists…this is the one song from them where i’m like, yeah, u could probably freestyle dance to this low key lol)” he suggests, “Your breakdancing is fantastic when you dance to that.” 

“Breakdancing?” you question, “You breakdance?”

Jamil hesitates, “Yes, but it’s only a hobby.” 

“We’ve already established you’re a fantastic dancer,” you tell him, “Breakdancing is popular and crowds love it. They also won’t be expecting it from a Vil performance. Do you rap?” 

Jamil does a double take. 

“I… dabble sometimes, but not as much as dancing,” he admits. 

“That’s fine,” you reply, waving him off.

You run to your phone to type a few rap lines from one of your old hits. You send it in the group chat. 

“I want all of you to try your hand at rapping,” you instruct.

You repeating the rhythm several times for them. “You have ten minutes. Then, I want to see it.”

—------------

You sit, reviewing your notes. You address the group.

“Jamil, you’re an all-rounder. You excel in every aspect. I could put you anywhere, but I’m keeping you on vocals because of the team’s composition,” you explain. 

You pause, looking up at him. You fold your hands and lean forward.

You continue, “Jamil, you have proven to be competent in and out of the performing arts. You take directions quickly. You’re diligent, responsible, and reliable. I need help with this production. I have too much on my plate. Out of everyone here, I trust you the most to take my instructions and help the others improve their skills. Would you like to be a team leader?” 

Jamil’s eyes widen with a calculating spark in his eyes. 

“I would be honored,” he agrees. 

You smile back at him. “Thank you. We’ll discuss the details of your responsibilities after rehearsal. I look forward to working with you more closely.” 

Jamil nods with a small smile. It doesn’t go away for the rest of practice. 

“Ace and Deuce will be our rappers. Both of you are strong in that aspect. You work well together, so I plan to have a back-and-forth. It will hype up the audience.” You glance at them with critical eyes. “Jamil will work with you on your tone. It’s a little too biting at the moment.”  

You continue, turning to your vice leader. 

“You’re interesting as always, Le Chasseur D’Amour,” you chuckle, as the man lights up at the name. “You have a distinct mix between singing and rapping. I like it, so I’ll put you somewhere near Epel and my part. I want the Pomefiore trio to stick together.”

“That’s cute!” Kalim coos. 

You pause at the comment before giving a soft smile. “I hope it brings up morale. Plus, I plan to rope Vil into it. He’s the true leader of Pomefiore. He deserves to have support too.” 

The group falls silent.

“I... I thought you hated him,” Kalim comments. 

You tilt your head. 

“No,” you reply, “I feel irritated and annoyed with some of his behaviors, but I don’t hate him. He’s a remarkable individual. However, we all have our vulnerable moments. Vil is no different. He just needs some help learning different life lessons.”

The Scarabia leader nods. 

“I’m glad you care about him. I was worried you’d exclude him,” he voices with a relieved smile.

“I won’t. Vil needs help, not judgment. He’s been through a lot today,” you say before dropping the bad news on the last member. “Kalim, you’ll work with Rook on your demeanor. I don’t know where to put you. The concept for the song is more serious than your usual sunshine nature. Until it’s toned down, I don’t know where to put you.” 

Kalim’s face falls. Jamil perks up.

—————

You text Epel to skip private lessons. You direct him to Rook who will catch him up on what happened. You talk to Jamil, laying out your expectations and your notes for the members. He takes them with ease. It takes a load off your mind. 

When you arrive at Ramshackle, it’s already dark. You sigh, staring at the stars. You have much to do. You need to remix Vil’s song, work on homework, and maintain some of Vil’s strict habits. It’s a lot. 

You glance at the familiar rickety manor you call home. You’re proud of it. You wouldn’t trade it for anything because it’s yours. It’s a place where anyone can come and feel welcome. It’s for the lost souls, but you don’t want to go in yet. Once you walk in, you have to face your reality and responsibilities again. 

It’s wild to think you woke up in Vil’s body this morning. It feels like weeks have passed. You wonder where Vil is. 

A gentle voice comes from behind you. The hunter’s frequent and sudden appearances have become normal. 

“Trickster,” Rook calls out. 

A smile graces your face. You pull yourself away from the sparkling stars. A crisp wind meets your back as you turn to acknowledge him. Rook holds out two Pomefiore dorm uniforms. It’s just the outer robe. His other hand presents a pair of Vil’s tennis shoes. You understand the silent implication. 

“You’re always prepared,” you comment with a tired smile, “I don’t know how to put it on.” 

You take the offered robe and drape it over yourself. Rook busies himself with tying the altered obi for you. You use him as a stand, stabilizing yourself as you change your shoes. Rook hands you the other outfit, before leading you into the tree-line. 

“How long has he been out here?” you question, following him through the dark woods. 

You’re not surprised the vice leader has some form of dark vision. You fish out Vil’s phone, turning on the flashlight. Using a hunting knife, Rook turns to mark a few trees with an X, so you can find your way back.  

“Roi de Poison has retreated into the forêt since the others came back,” he explained. 

You hum in response. The two of you walk in silence. Rook stops. 

“He’s just up ahead,” the hunter discloses. 

You nod, giving your thanks and striding forward. It isn’t far before you stumble across a figure. Vil is curled up with his knees to his chest. He’s facing away from you.  

“Here to mock me?” Vil snips. 

You raise an eyebrow. You sit beside him. He glances at you before resolutely staring forward. You turn off your phone, listening to the music of the night. Crickets chirp. You hear the hoot of an owl. You bask in the quiet nature. 

“Why are you here?” Vil asks. 

His voice edges on the brink of defensive, but you notice he’s holding back from his usual scathing and critical remarks. You glance at him, intrigued. You were right. He’s already changing. He’ll be fine if you give him the right support and direction. 

“I need your help,” you tell him.

Vil tenses and snaps towards you. He reminds you of a hurt and scared animal in this moment in the woods. 

The dorm leader doesn’t immediately answer. He watches you. You’re languid and relaxed. Your vital points are open and unguarded. You lean back on your hands. It leaves your torso vulnerable. Your head is tilted to the side, exposing your neck. There’s a faint smile on your face as you stare back.

“You don’t need my help,” Vil degrades, before spitting. “I’m sure you’re just fine on your own.” 

You raise a tired eyebrow. 

“I made Jamil into a team leader. I can’t do everything by myself, so I’m delegating tasks” you tell him, before poking his chest. “And I need your help too.”  

Vil glares at you. However, you catch a tinge of wariness. It makes you internally perk up. If he’s willing to listen, this will be easier. 

“What do you even need my help for? It seems like you have everything covered,” he counters. 

“I need your help remixing your song,” you tell him. 

He opens his mouth with a terrified and hurt expression. You put up a hand before he can speak. 

“It’s not bad. It’s a wonderful base, but we can make it better,” you reassure, “I have more experience in this area than you. However, you’re the creator. I need your help. If I’m going to alter the song, I want you like it as well.” 

Vil stares at you. He looks away, confused and conflicted. 

“I… I don’t understand why you’re doing this. You humiliated me this morning and now you’re asking for my help,” he replies, scrunching his eyebrows together.

You press a finger against his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles. He instinctively understands what you’re doing. Vil doesn’t resist, but his eyes are still upset and conflicted. 

“You learned something, right?” you confirm. 

Vil scoffs. 

“Obviously. I was sent into an internal crisis about my identity, how I’ve been acting and affecting people, and how easily I can be replaced. How can I not learn something?” he retorts, growing emotional.

His voice is filled with pain. Vil is on the verge of crying. He buries his head in his knees, humiliated at his feelings and reaction. You slide closer and drape the extra Pomefiore uniform over him. He stiffens but doesn’t look up. You observe him.

He’s never gotten this treatment before. If he has, it’s been too long. Vil’s suppressed his feelings for so long that he had to be broken with the harshest words to get through to him. It wasn’t how you wanted it to be. It was too harsh for your taste. However, you got through to him and that’s what mattered in this moment. You rub his back.

Vil keeps his head on his knees but turns toward you. 

“Why are you doing this?” he questions. 

“Because I believe in you,” you answer honestly. 

He frowns. 

“But you told me how useless I was this morning,” Vil replies. 

“I pointed out your problematic behavior,” you correct, “I never said that I didn’t believe you can’t change. If anything, that’s something you’re rather good at. You always strive to improve yourself. If anyone can do it, it’s you.” 

You wrap an arm around his waist and pull him into you. You press your lips against his temple. 

“Now, put your arms through your sleeve. You’ve been out here since rehearsal ended and that was hours ago,” you insist, “I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Vil slips his arms through the holes. You wrap the cloth tighter around his torso, before placing your hand back around him. The two of you sit in the chilly night for a long time. You feel Vil lean and relax into you. You turn your head to bury your head into his hair. 

“Let’s get you home,” you whisper. 

He hums in agreement. You pull out your phone, turning on the flashlight. Vil doesn’t protest as you slip an arm under his knees. You keep a firm hold on his back as you pick him up. You follow the marks Rook left for you. Walking carefully to not wake him, you emerge from the forest to meet the hunter. 

He gives you two a soft look, before escorting you to Ramshackle. Rook opens the door and ushers you up the stairs. You take Vil into his room. You pause. Your room, you suppose. 

You set Vil down on one side of the bed. You busy yourself with taking off his socks and shoes. Rook assists, plugging both of your phones. He sets your alarm, as you rummage through Vil’s bags. You find the dorm leader’s pajamas and pull out two pairs. You turn to find Rook staring at you scandalously. 

You smirk with a smug shrug. With a raise of your eyebrows, you gesture to the sleeping Vil. You silently ask him if that’s not attractive. Your hand gestures down the body you occupy. Rook contains a laugh, surrendering. You smile, before shooing him. 

He wiggles his eyebrow and you roll your eyes. Rook closes the door behind him. Turning off the main light, the bathroom glows from the other wall. You slip inside, completing Vil’s night routine. 

You walk out, nudging your body awake. 

“Vil,” you call out, “You need to wash your face.” 

The man groans but pulls himself up. 

“Everything’s in there and ready,” you tell him. 

He gives a noncommittal, sleepy nod and shuffles to the bathroom. You lean against the bed frame, scrolling through your phone. You wait for him. Vil comes out in his now oversized pajamas. He stares at the bed for a minute, before turning off the light and walking forward. You feel the Pomefiore student slip into bed. He turns away from you. You place your phone down, sliding into your position as well. 

You reach out and drape an arm over him, watching for any reaction. He scoots closer to you. You pull him closer and drift off to sleep. 

[lazorbeanz]

Another continuation to my list of random thoughts and reactions to STH3

(Part 3🫠)

!spoilers ahead duh!

- NOOOOOOO TOM!!!! HE CANT BE DEAD!!! SHADOW DID NOT JUST KILL TOM (I was literally shaking AND oh was I on the brink of tears too aakdjsjsnjs)

- more parallels 😭

- omg the new suits looking like how they do in the games o yaaaaas

- uhm someone care to help eggman he looks like he’s having a seizure

- okay now I definitely feel bad for stone :(

- idk why but this part in the movie I could NOT stop rambling to myself about it

It was after the ambulance had driven away with tom and maddie

How Sonic was just filled with so much anger and hurt he was willing to break the promise he made with his team about not using the M.E

Knuckles ofc was fully against the idea as using the M.E could be too dangerous, especially using it for something like vengeance. Then also saying that Sonic is in no right to make any decisions esp in his emotional state

Because emotions (especially anger) can cloud your judgement. you’re not always thinking straight therefore leading to irrational decision making

And knuckles, always being known as the hothead, short tempered, sometimes leaping into battles with just fists and no brain. He of all people probably knows what happens when you make decisions based off your emotions

And iirc doesn’t the power of the Master Emerald (or the chaos emeralds) reflects (or is based of) the person’s heart? Having someone who is feeling a whole pile of negative emotions wield such power can have severe consequences (which I’m pretty sure has already been demonstrated)

But anyways Sonic couldn’t care at the moment, he was even fine with going solo if no one “had the guts” Hecc, he was even ready to throw hands with Knux just to win it over and I was like “oh shiz it’s gonna be STH2 all over again” cuz y’know they both got all charged up

But then Knuckles was reminded about the OTHER half of their promise…to trust each other, and he was going to make sure he kept that promise even if Sonic broke it on his end, even if Sonic chooses to go with what could be a very reckless choice. When knux swears a ✨sacred oath✨ he is bound to keep it regardless.

So he stands down and lets Sonic have his way

Idk did that not just scream maturity or character development to you?? Bc knux usually wouldn’t make a stretch like this esp with the M.E. Idk maybe I looked too far into it help

(Also I’m not in any way condemning Sonic for being the way he was…poor guy has been thru a lot from dealing with another hedgehog, to 2 eggmen, GUN, and now his “dying” father. He has every right to be pissed)

- oh is it who I think it is-

- OH MY GOSH WADE HAHAHAHA YESSSSS THE NEW FEARSOME GUARDIAN OF THE MASTER EMERALD ALL QUIVER BEFORE HIM

- BUDDY YOU DIDNT EVEN LOOK LIKE YOU TRIED-

- NAAAAA NO MORE SAD FLASHBACKS :(

- OH STUFF’S ABOUT TO GET REAL

- SUPER SHADOW ENTERED THE CHAT!!!!

- SONIC JUST PUNCHING SHADOW ACROSS THE WORLD DAAAAYYUUUUMM BROS ON A WHOLE NEW LEVEL OF VIOLENCE

🎶Brazil, Morocco, London to Ibiza-🎶 (shh it’s totally accurate)

- I’m crying WHAT IS THIS SORCERY

- SONIC SHED A TEAR I REPEAT SONIC SHED A TEAR I SAW IT

- ahh yes beautiful trauma bonding

- OMG OKAY ITS HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM

- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

- LIVE AND LEARRRRNNNNNN

- old people and insects…

- BANGER SCENE + BANGER SONG = PEAK CINEMA PT.2

- THEY DID THE THING!!!

- oop there goes eggman

- WAIT WHERE DID TAILS AND KNUCKLES COME FROM DID I MISS SOMETHING?

- lmfao Gerald gets his ass zapped by his grandson and then incinerated by pure chaos energy the karma is reallll but uhm rest in pepperonis ig

- THEY PISSED ON THE FREAKING MOOOOOOOON

- AAAAAHHHHH TAILS SEES HIS BIG BRO PLUMMETING TO HIS DOOM AND-

HES IN TEARS IM UNWELL

- YESSSS GO SAVE YOUR BUDDY!!!!

- sayonara Shadow the Hedgehog and Dr.Robotnik 🫡

- NOOOO TAILS LOSING CONSCIOUS YOU TRIED ITS OKAY

- YEEEAAAAHHHHH HERE COMES KNUCKLES TO SAVE BOTH HIS LIL BROTHERS!!!!! 💪💪💪

- TEAM HUG AWWWWW LETS GO

- DONUT LORD IS ALIIIIIVEEEE YESSSS

- MORE DOGGY TRANSLATIONS :D

yes ozzy u get all the loveeee

- YES WE GET THE REAL RACE THIS TIME TO TOP IT OFF

- I love this movie

- *proceeds to jam out to the credits*

- welcome to the SCU Amy 🩷 ALSO GURL UR SO PRETTY WOWZERS

- I need STH4 NOW