#and then it bites at you that punk knows that too

[nectardaddy]

BITTER . . . kyotani “mad dog” kentaro + f! reader

                     𖥔    CHAPTER ONE : ACCOUNTABILITY    𖥔

warnings : 17+ to read, language, addiction, illegal activities, brief allusion to harassment

She's ordered to take ten anger management sessions, but she doesn't even believe she can last one.

The air is cold, and cuts right through her jacket - a hand me down hoodie from her older sister. Weezer, a shitty band in her own right, plastered far too big for her liking across the back. It's too thin to actually break the cold, but it's at least something to cover her arms.

She went to the community center despite her well wishes. But the courts and judges don’t give a damn about wishes and prayers, so she went anyway with a nervous gut and chink in her armor. She doesn't remember the  building to be so big, so daunting. She frankly doesn't remember anything past six months, as she was too high to care about anything else than her next drug run. So she lingers outside, in the cold, by herself and waits.

Her nerves are shot and she's tired, working odd hours at a nearby gas station made her eyes dark and lifeless. The only glimmer of hope is that she's able to sneak a few packs of cigarettes every week, a five finger discount as she called it, and blame the off counts on other addicts that frequent the parking lot. She knows a handful of them, and she feels bad sometimes about blaming them. But the feelings stop just as quick as they come, because she knows they'd throw her under the bus just as fast.

She takes the cigarettes from her hoodie pocket and opens them, only three left and a lighter. She'll need more than just three to get her through the rest of the day, because in her mind, nicotine is a hell of a lot better than cocaine. The first drag hits her hard, the cold air mixed with smoke makes her want to cough, but she swallows hard before it gets too bad. The second, calms her nerves and she feels her shoulders finally drop. The third, she hears her phone ping and she forgets about the serene feeling entirely.

Flipping it open, she reads a text from her lawyer. Real straight laced guy, no nonsense, but damn good for a court appointed guy. The fact he got her out of going back to jail was a miracle within itself.

Suit, sent at 8:19: Session starts at 8:30 today. Are you there?

She replies with a quick, “yeah,” before she closes it and sighs. Eleven minutes until she has to face her fears and enter the building. It's not as if she cares about anger management, she'd go head first if it were anywhere else, take the stupid classes and be done. But this building held memories and a dark past. Held a part of her she had long forgotten about, a part that felt safe enough to share her grievances with other strangers with the same nasty habit.

The only solace she found now was in a pack of cigarettes and her fist through her bedroom door.

Anger was relatively new for her. She read somewhere that extended drug use could flip one's personality on its head, fry the brain, and struggle to make pathways. She thinks that's why she wants to grit her teeth and let her fist fly when the washing machine breaks for a third time in a month, when she used to just sigh and shrug it off.

All the drugs made her bite the hand clean off of anyone that wanted to help - but she's six months sober and still feels the same way.

Her cigarette is almost burnt down when a man approaches her - three more minutes and she would have to go inside - and she takes her chances with staying out in the cold. He's got dark eyes, a permanent scowl, with remnants of a formerly busted lip, and an aura that told her to get away. His attire matched the energy - a punk through and through. For a second she thought she should go inside, but a quick look at the building made her want to heave.

He approached her in a lazy stride as he took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. If it was one thing she knew like the back of her hand, it was an addict. He was jittery, standoffish, and when his eyes met hers it seems like she's a godsend.

“You gotta light?” His voice was rough, gravelly, like he just rolled out of bed and decided to show up.

“Yeah, hold on.” She fishes the cigarettes out of her pocket again and plucks out the lighter. He's already got the smoke between his lips, and she catches his hand shaking when he reaches out his palm. Addict. “Here.”

He recoils and the cigarette almost falls from his lips. “Are you fucking with me?” He sounds offended, looking at her like a crazed woman when all she really did was offer him the only lighter she had.  

“What?”

“You stupid or something?” That strikes a nerve.

“Are you stupid?” She repeats, but her words have a bite to them. A singe she can feel in the back of her throat, “it's just a lighter, jackass. Light your cigarette or fuck off somewhere.”

“You're the one offering someone a white lighter, Weezer.” She feels her blood pressure rise over the interaction, all this over a god forsaken lighter. And the quick note of the band name on her hoodie makes her bite her tongue. “They're bad luck, ‘put a countdown on your head if you use one.”

“Maybe you could use the countdown.” She pulls the lighter back with a grimace and puts it back in her pocket.

He rolls his eyes, the kind where she thinks they might just stay back in his skull, before he walks off. Muttering under his breath, “can't even smoke in peace,” until he's out of ear shot and can't hear what else he has to say.

“Asshole.”

The room is stuffy and cramped, she feels like she can't breathe because right down the hallway is the door that leads to hell. There's a weight in the air as she looks around, everybody there looks the same type: bad news. There's a guy who's twice her age, and old enough to make it seem like he has no fight left in him - the scowl and black eye tell her differently. There's a woman around her age, maybe a little younger, but looks jittery and skittish - probably went barking up the wrong tree. And the others fall in between the two extremes - normal looking but a festering anger that radiated from them like a space heater.

But the chairs are in rows, and she thanks the stars it's not a circle.

The door to the room opens again and her eyes flicker over in a bored attempt to stay busy. She knows him, Yaku Morisuke, went to high school with him years ago and knows he's one bad decision from committing a felony. His eyes meet hers, and for a moment he looks relieved, before his lips pull into a sly smile and he makes his way over.

“There's no way they got your ass in here,” he's teasing but there's a hint of the same old dissonance. She doesn't believe the man has a shred of kindness in his body, but she finds herself chuckling anyway.

He sits beside her. She's seen him here and there since graduation, doesn't remember if she saw him during her benders, but knows they talked right before she went to jail the first time.

Possession: one count.

He hasn't changed much since then; the first time in means she didn't stay long. The only thing that has changed is his demeanor. Not as flighty as he used to be, more aggressive than usual. “Not surprised to see you here though, it's a shocker they didn't send you sooner.”

He laughs. “They have, three times actually.”

“Shit, Morisuke,” she laughs, but isn't surprised. “What the hell did you do?”

“Apparently it's frowned upon to hit someone with a bottle in a bar.” He talks about it like he's proud of it and gives her a cheeky smile. “Could've fooled me though, I've seen it in a ton of movies.” She remembers him to be a terror in high school, standing at 163cm with a rage topping him out at 195cm. She's seen his eyes go red, and kept it noted to steer clear of the receiving end. Good to know he’s only gotten worse.

Then she gets the question she always does.

“How've you been?”

The answer is immediate, practiced, and honed. “I'm good.” A complete and utter lie. The last time she was even remotely good was before she ever stepped foot in this place to sit in uncomfortable metal chairs and talk about her feelings. “Been setting myself straight finally.” Not a complete lie, but even she feels the sense of doubt in her words. Then she repeats the phrase that everyone is looking for, the only phrase they care about. “I'm clean.”

“Hell yeah,” he gives her a smile. He seems genuine, but there's always some underlying message when people ask.

Sometimes it's religion, that she should find god and it would help her stay clean - god is the one who destroyed her life in the first place, so she always declines. For others it's morbid curiosity, an addict is like an animal at the zoo, they finally get to see one in real life - she always feels prodded at with this one. More often than not, it's to make themselves feel better - they may be fucked up but at least they're not as fucked up as her.

She doesn't say anything else, only gives him a half hearted smile. Then the door opens and closes again, and it's the same asshole from outside.

She notices Morisuke's demeanor changes when he does, rolling his eyes and sitting back in the chair. The blonde’s got his arms crossed, and if he wasn't so small and thinly framed she would actually be a little cautious.

“You know that guy?”

“Yeah,” he groans. She sees a glimpse of the Yaku from high school, and why he's in here in the first place. His jaw is tight and he's opening and closing his fist, a shitty attempt to calm himself down as it's obviously not working. Something happened between the two but he leaves it unsaid. “That's Mad Dog.”

She makes a weak attempt to stifle a laugh, only it catches the guard dog's attention. He's got eyes that could kill her, and for a fraction of a second she thinks she's ok with that. Hopes the man chops her into tiny little pieces, then she wouldn't have to bear the thought of passing the door to hell on the way out.

But he looks away and she's left unscathed.

The man sits down, too close for comfort to the pair and she sees Yaku visibly stiffen. He's only a few chairs away but the blonde next to her seems like he'd rather be on the opposite side of the country.

“What kind of name is that?”

“A name you get when you're one felony away from your third strike.”

She doesn't ask any more questions.

The class starts after that. It's boring, and it drones on. The therapist is a nice woman, kind hearted, but has something to her that lacks all fear. She can tell she's molded the class to what fits her, what protects her from a room full of court ordered rage machines.

The class doesn't introduce themselves. Doesn't go around in a circle and say their name or drug of choice; in this case, offense of choice. It's different than what she expected, but the room two doors down still burns a hole in the back of her mind.

She's supposed to be learning how to recognize her anger, how to fix it, but all she can think about is the bounce in her knee. She focuses on it, the tapping of her shoes was quiet, but loud to her as she counted every one.

57. 58. 59.

If she counts, she doesn't think about drugs. If she counts, maybe she'll forget about the drugs entirely.

It never works out that way though. She counts, she hits 200, then she feels like ripping her hair out at the root. Like screaming until her throat feels raw, then clawing at it to get it to work again. But she keeps counting regardless, and hopes by the time she reaches 200 the class will be over.

123. 124. 125.

She needs another cigarette, if the class wasn't a restriction on her life, she would've gone and smoked by now. But she swallows hard and keeps tapping her foot. Yaku looks over at her, it goes unnoticed, but she feels him nudge her shoulder.

“What?” She's whispering, but it still comes out in a snap. He grimaces, he's one second away from telling her off but bites his tongue - maybe the three classes were finally working out for him.

“Chill out.” He's annoyed, and his gaze is as sharp as a knife.

She mumbles a small, “sorry,” before she stops all together. Now she's just counting and her eyes are looking for anything and everything to focus on.

They catch the guard dog's again.

He's got the same fidgety demeanor as her. It makes her wonder what his drug of choice is, or if he was that reliant on nicotine. He doesn't back down and he keeps his eyes on her - a silent admission that he didn't bow to anyone. So she looks away first and sighs to herself.

There's a speck of empathy for him, the guard dog. Lost humanity makes you do stupid things, detrimental things, illegal things. But the empathy gets wiped clean off at the remembrance of the exchange in the morning. Now she's forgotten the number she was on and has to start over, and it's all his fault.

1. 2. 3.

It's his fault she feels that familiar feeling start to bubble up in her chest. His fault for talking to her like that. His fault for engaging with her in the first place. His fault for being a huge dick.

4. 5. 6.

“You need to become aware of what triggers your anger.” The therapist cuts through her counting and she feels like she wants to scream.

“Once you're aware of it, you can navigate your way around those things.” Right now, it's him that's pissing her off and she doesn't even know him. All she knows is that he called her stupid over a god damn lighter.

7. 8. 9.

“So you need people around you to hold you accountable.” She closes her eyes at the therapist's statement, she knows where the conversation is going and it makes her feel sick.

Another glorified sponsor, a partner, a silly excuse to lie through her teeth about what she was really doing.

She had a sponsor before, someone to “hold her accountable.” An older guy, around 50, used to be on meth's leash and looked the part - she hasn't talked to him since their third conversation. He found it a prime advantage to chat up a younger woman, send her things that made her eyes go wide and grit her teeth, so she blocked the number and relapsed the same day.

She hits ten and takes a deep breath, only to continue counting with her eyes closed the rest of the time.

Her accountability partner is Mad Dog.

The therapist said it's better if they didn't know their partner from the get go, no internal bias, and not an ounce of empathy for a friend. So Morisuke paired up with the guy beside him, said that he never talked to his partners in the first place so it didn't even matter.

That pissed her off.

Gas was only poured on the fire as she continued to sit there and realize everyone else had a partner besides her.

Then she realized there was only one other person in the same situation, Yaku realized it too - the guard dog.

“Don't talk to that guy,” he warns, “just say you have a partner, they don't give a shit.” But she's already out of her seat with a vengeance, and she doesn't even know why. Maybe it was the rush, a shred of familiarity that didn't involve snorting lines off a coffee table. Possibly because there was something welcoming about the anger. Or maybe she was just down right stupid.

“You're my partner.” A curt statement and a venomous tone. He cuts his eyes up to her, he's still sitting down and looks like he won't be getting up soon.

“What pisses you off, Weezer?” It's almost cheeky the way he says it, a jab, but when spoken between his teeth she really can't tell.

“Men that call me stupid.” Cut and dry, “what pisses you off, Mad Dog?” He doesn't even look surprised at the name, if anything there's a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. That bubbling feeling returns in her chest when she sees it.

“Women that offer me white lighters.” 

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks

@yogurtkags @bakery-anon @totallytatum @mollyrolls @crypt-0rchid

@hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @angelichwv @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name

@localgaytrainwreck @ggggbabybaby2 @chaloume @kawoala @evilari111

@baylz

[projectoster]

drewpunk frotting but punks too messy so hes more hugging drew to the bed like a squirrl to its earned corn than strapping him in and his old man hands get tired after like two minutes so drew has

drewpunk fic w wedding symbolism entwined in da narrative

[caligulawritesfanfiction]

heart to heart

pairing ; rodrick heffley x f!reader

summary ; there’s a first time for everything — rejection, heartbreak, kissing, humping your friend…you know, the usual.

warnings ; SMUT,, p in v, virginity loss, reader has lady parts, dry humping, swearing, rodrick’s the loser we all know he (not so) secretly is, sorta sub!virgin!rodrick, virgin!reader

a/n ; never posted smut on anything before so…🔥🔥 i like to imagine reader is plus sized and gothic but yk whatever u wanna imagine her as idgaf, anyway hope y’all like (also experimenting in which perspective i like more so this one’s in first person)

first time we fucked, we were both heartbroken— him over heather, and me over some stupid poser punk boy from school. we laid in his bed together, both sulking and talking to each other about how things could’ve went with our crushes.

we take turn taking hits from rodrick’s sloppily rolled joint. we both decide we shouldn’t get too high, just in case susan arrives home early. we’re not crazy high, but high enough to get those risky, crazy ideas and laugh at stupid things we say to each other. eventually, we end up rolled on our sides facing each other. we don’t say anything, just staring with hooded eyes and silly smiles.

“you know…” i begin to say, scanning my eyes over rodrick’s face, taking in every little detail i see, “you’re pretty cute, i guess. i’ve never noticed before until now…” he chuckles, “yeah, i guess you’re pretty cute too, y/n…”

i lick my bottom lip, deep in a certain thought. roderick mimics my action, watching me. i take a deep breath before uttering out, “maybe…”

“maybe, what?” he asks curiously. i hesitate, but continue nonetheless, “maybe, we don’t have to be, um, lonely…in that way…like, i mean…” “what do you mean?” his questioning is innocent, almost like he wouldn’t dare jump to perverted thoughts like he’d usually do because we’re such close friends…

“well, you know…i’m a girl, you’re a boy…” i trail off. my once avoiding eyes are now back on his, staring right into his dark irises. i hear him swallow, he seems to understand what i’m implying this time. he bites him lip, and now i’m the one mimicking him. he nods in slow motion, it seems like. he whispers a borderline silent, “okay.”

i, very, very, slowly push myself up onto my elbow. i gauge his reaction with every small movement.

in all my time of knowing rodrick, he’s never really been with a girl. he’s never kissed a girl, or even held hands with a girl in a romantic fashion. i, on the other hand, has been with two guys. none were very serious, just casual flings— sharing nothing more than a few kisses. he likes to talk big game, especially to greg, and act all confident and flirtatious. in reality, when me and him are alone and hanging out as friends he wasn’t so cocky. he was actually quite ‘dorky’, similar to his brother, and desperate to impress his peers.

now, i’m hovering over him propped up on my elbow as he lays flat on his back. his lips are parted, and his gaze occasionally wanders down to my own lips. i, slowly and gently, lower my face to his. i hesitate for a brief moment before lightly grazing my lips with his, both of our eyes screwed shut. just for a second, our mouths are just barely touching. he closes the gap completely, pressing his lips against mine with no further movement. i let out a breath i didn’t know i was holding in. i part my lips, kissing him properly and bringing my other hand up to rest on his cheek.

he suddenly gains enough confidence to grab my waist, carefully pulling me closer and closer until i’m pressed up again his warm, lanky body. the kiss is sloppy, but slow and gentle. it’s almost as if we’re trying to be careful with each other, both fearing if we make one wrong move, we’ll mess it all up.

i smile into our open mouthed, breathy kisses. i feel his warmth radiating off of him, it’s addictive. with every touch of his calloused hands to my waist, every breath of his i feel on my face, and graze of his pretty lips against mine, the butterflies slam in my stomach. it gets me hot, doing this with roderick.

when i said i’ve shared a few kisses with a couple guys, i meant awkward, tight lipped, quick ‘let’s get this over with’ kisses; nothing like this.

i lap my tongue into his open mouth. he moans oh so quietly at that simple action, but my tummy does flips and my face heats up like it’s been lit on fire. i lose the little self control i tried to keep. my hands move without a second thought, one to tangle in his dark, messy hair and the other to rest along his jawline. my leg whips around to straddle his hips, pressing down on the poor unexpecting boy. he gasps, which fades into a strained groan. the gentle kissing becomes feverish and needy, lapping my tongue against his desperately. he wraps his long arms around me, forcing my back into an arch; rib cage to rib cage, heart to heart. his hands wander would you expect anything else from rodrick from down to rub my hips, to up to grip my shoulders. our tongues wrestle and invade past the others lips. we share whines and little moans, reveling in each others warmth and need for intimacy. we breath heavily between each kiss, taste buds and mouth covered in each others saliva.

finally, i pull away, but not without roderick attempting to chase my lips. i lick my lips clean of our mixed spit. my chest is heaving and my heart is thumping as i speak, “rodrick?” he hums in acknowledgment. his eyes hooded and gazing at me full of lustful infatuation. i feel his heartbeat drum against mine, his chest pushing against mine with every labored inhale. i let my hands wander down to his chest, balancing myself as i lay meeting his stare. “was that okay?” i whisper. he hums first, nodding his head in shallow shakes. “why wouldn’t it be?” his confused tone makes me smile. i laugh, shaking my head, “i- i don’t know…”

he lifts his head to bring his lips back to mine in a sweet kiss. i trail my kisses to his jaw, then down his neck. i suck and bite softly on the column of his throat, bragging my tongue over each tender bite. he moans lowly, his hands caressing my crop top exposed lower back. his touch leaves a fiery path in its wake. i tug at his black loded diper tee. he gets the memo and i sit up a little in my spot on his hips to allow him to tug it off. as soon as the fabric is thrown to the floor, i let my fingertips feel his smooth chest. they run down past his bellybutton to his little happy trail of dark hair. my thighs clench at the feeling, my hips unintentionally wiggling against him. his eyes snap open and he groans, that’s when i notice his dick is firm under me. i snap my head up to look at his face, his eyes are now screwed shut and his lips are slightly parted.

“oh, shit…” he mumbles under his breath. i have to make a decision now. even though our friendship might be ruined after this little make out we just had, am i willing to ruin it for good by fucking him?

yeah, i think i am.

i can’t ignore the pit of fire nestling between my abdomen and the slightly uncomfortable wetness pooling in my panties. caught up in my thoughts, i didn’t notice rodrick had opened his eyes again and he’s staring right down at where our hips are connected. i decide ‘whatever, fuck it’ and lift my shirt above my head to throw it as fast as i can. my lacy bra exposed to his view. his eyebrows are raised, his cheeks dusted with a pretty pink.

“you can touch me, i want you to.” he nods, i gently grab his wrist bringing to my breast. he inhales sharply, softly kneading it. i whine at the feeling. the look on his face could make me cum alone. his hard on pokes at my thigh. i roll my hips down, my core grazing his through my jeans. he chokes on a moan, “y/n!” i smile down at him and giggle, “what?”, i repeat the action.

“that!”

“do you want me to stop?”

“no! it’s just- oh, fuck-“

“just what?”

now, i’m just taunting him. how could i not? he’s cute when he’s flustered. i plant my hands firmly on his chest, and repeatedly grind my core down on his. he grips my hips tightly, moaning at this new feeling. our moans and groans blend together. i speed up, my head hung as my face is contorted in focus and pleasure. he bucks his hips up, and uses his hold on mine to move me back and forth. i feel like we’re two wild animals, humping each other with such desperation and fervor.

“good- feels so good..” he whines out. yeah, this feels good, but i crave more. i abruptly stop, and he groans in frustration. “y/n?-“ “wait.”

i hurry and roll off him to remove my pants, kicking them off my feet. he sees what i’m doing, and is quick to follow. i stand on my knees next to him on the bed, he observes me ready to mimic whatever action i’m to do next. i hold his gaze and slowing pull my matching lace panties down my legs. a thin string of arousal connects my cunt with my panties as they slide down my thighs. he lays watching me, basically drooling as he sees a part of a girl he’s over ever seen in porno magazines. i hear him utter a holy fuck and a i can’t believe this is happening under his breath.

i remove my bra next, the slightly chilly air from his attic bedroom making my nipples harden. too mesmerized by the sight of my completely naked body, he doesn’t notice me reach over to slip my fingertip under the band of his briefs. he feels my warm hands on his skin, and snaps out of his trance. “oh! yeah, yeah, i’ll-“ he pulls down his black underwear and kicks them off his feet, his hard cock springing out. it’s bright pink tip leaks with pre-cum. i practically drool at the sight. i reach out to graze my fingers over his shaft. he softly moans at the small touch. i lean and kiss up his chest while i run my gentle fingertips over him.

i smile down at him, my face heating up at the fact that this is rodrick. that this isn’t a dream and it’s actually happening. the buzz of our shared high has basically worn off, and the reality of it all hits me. it causes a wave of shyness, my cheeks dusted with the same pink roderick has been collecting on his pretty face.

i push my shyness down, forcing myself to not let my nerves ruin this. i pull roderick to move ontop of me as i lay down on my back. “i want you to lead the way, is that okay?” i question, watching him adjust to hover over me. he nods and gives me a toothy grin, “yeah, totally.”

he takes this time to scan over my body sprawled out underneath him, “you’re really cute, y/n, really pretty…” he leans in to kiss me sweetly as i wrap my legs loosely around his waist. he takes that as a sign to look down and grab his cock, taking a deep breath and lining it up with my entrance. a low groan escaped him as he pushes in. i grip his shoulders tightly, feeling a burning pain. “are you okay?” he asks when he sees the grimace on my face.

“yes, i’m okay, i’m okay. please- please, keep going,” i stutter out. he continues to push his length into me, after a moment he bottoms out. “i-,” he chokes on his words, “im all- all the way in.” he moves from his position from hovering over me, holding his weight with his arms, to completely laying over me. his arms snake around to hold me close to him, and i do the same. slowly, he starts shallowing thrusting into my weeping cunt. the pain is quickly swept away with spikes of pleasure shooting up my body.

“rod- roderick!” i gasp out, my nails clawing at his back. he speeds up, starting from shallow thrusts to quick slams on his hips into mine. he mumbles out praises and whimpers of my name into the nape of my neck. he fucks into me with fervor, “you’re so fucking tight, ohh my god…”

unwrapping himself from my body, he raises up to watch his cock slam into my hole. drools falls from his open lips. he grips with my hips tight, digging his nails into the plush skin. pressure builds in my lower belly. “i- i think im close, rodrick, please- more, more!”

i reach my hand down the rub my bundle of nerves between us. but before i could start, he pushes my hand out the way to press his thumb against it, moving in small circles. “right there?”

“yes! oh god-“

his breathing becomes labored and the rhythm he had stutters. the pressure building in me snaps and my back arches off the mattress. my lips form an O, a silent scream rips through me along with my orgasm. with two final thrusts he freezes up, joining me in euphoric relief, and his head hangs low with a low drawn out moan. i feel his hot seed paint my inner walls. his chest is glittering with a layer of sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead. after a second or two, he drags his softening cock out of my clamping walls. he watches his cum drip out of my hole, seeing it clamping around nothing but the white liquid escaping.

his gaze takes in my spent body from bottom to top. my breasts rising and falling from the intensity of my orgasm, struggling to catch my breath.

rodrick swears he can see her glowing, like an angel sent from heaven just for him, surrounded by light. how could he not see it before? he feels stupid, what did he see in heather? him and y/n have almost everything in common; our taste in music, our style, among so many other things he couldn’t even think of in this moment.

he falls down onto the bed, making my body bounce a little of the bed. i giggle, and turn my head to look at him. he was one step ahead of me, already looking right at me. he pulls me closer, hugging me tightly. “y/n, i-“

the front door slams. “kids! i’m home!”

it’s susan.

we’re completely naked, there’s a half smoked joint resting on his nightstand, and we have no idea where we threw our clothes.

“…fuck.”

[spidcrhunni]

sleepover

hobie brown/reader

summary: you let your boyfriend stay over for the night after he’s been away on patrols for a while.

tags: sleepovers, cuddles, fluff, sweet! hobie, sleepy! hobie, sharing a bed, reader knows he’s spider-punk btw, he’s so cute i want to bite him (affectionately), short fic!

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [spidcrhunni!!] ࿐ྂ

hobie yawns, his eyelids closing lazily; staying shut for a few seconds before finally opening again. “if you’re tired you can go to bed.” you tell him, scrolling through social media’s idly on your phone. “nah, i promised you i would stay up with you.” your boyfriend mumbles, trying to occupy himself with something on his own phone before getting bored and turning it off. “go to sleep, bart. you need it.” you let your spare hand rub his back. hobie presses his face to your collarbone. “wanna stay up with you. i haven’t seen you in ages.” hobie whines, voice vibrating against your shirt. “that’s because you’re a busy guy now, you have stuff to do; and i couldn’t be more proud. you don’t have to exhaust yourself. i’m fine like this.”

hobie frowns, letting his ear rest on your chest. “nah. i can stay up-“ a yawn cuts him off. “a while longer..” he finishes his sentence, you laugh softly. “go to sleep.” you tell him, ignoring how his hair tickled your neck and jaw. hobie groans in protest, yet can’t find any words to respond with as he yawns again. your hand slowly stops massaging his back, resting idly as you focus on your phone. eventually, hobie shuffles, moving from where he was lay on top of you to settle beside you instead; lanky arms curling around you. rolling over, you hug him back, letting him bury his face into your chest once more as well as use your arm as a pillow. “how’s your week been?” hobie asks, blinking lazily up at you. “good! i passed that chem test.” you respond, humouring his loving gaze with a small kiss to his forehead. “good. i knew you could do it.”

you hum softly, a smile on your lips. “how’s your week been?” you reply, listening as he groans. “boring..! nothin’s happening on patrols anymore. i want a thrill!” he sighs, arms squeezing you a bit tighter as he adds on a quick: “and i missed you.” you laugh softly, rubbing his back gently. “i missed you too.” you reply, putting your phone down. “m’glad.” hobie mutters, eyes finally closing as he struggles to keep them open due to his exhaustion. you chuckle. “goodnight, bart.” you tell him, gently kissing his lips. “night, babe.” he mumbles, voice quiet.

[hanasnx]

Dick fucking the reader to give her an attitude adjustment after seeing her flirting with Wally just to provoke him. 😛

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! — request DC characters.

Ever since DICK GRAYSON shot up past Wally West in height and in charm, there’s been some tight competition for feminine attention. At times, they make the most of it by joking about “sharing.” Wally will even refer to you as “our girlfriend” and Dick finds that harmless until you start acting on it. It’s not your fault, you think, you’ve just been largely ignored. As you know, Wally is starved for attention, and you’re willing to give him a little confidence booster while Nightwing neglects you to satiate his responsibilities as team leader.

“You’re so funny, Wally,” you tell him after you’ve finished laughing about whatever dumb joke he relayed, coiling a lock of your hair around your finger.

He doesn’t notice it at first, believing your flattery. It shows on him, raising an arm to curl his bicep in a power pose while he finishes some story about some goon he got the drop on. You don’t really care, and instead, take a step closer to him. At the sight of his arm, you reach out to palm his flexed bicep and he visibly tenses, his expression softening.

“And you’re strong, too.” you add, your fingers undulating pressure onto the muscle and he’s taken aback. Your hand falls away as his arm drops and his heel slides back as if to gain a little breathing room. “Bet you could lift me.” you challenge, inclining in his direction, and he’s hit with a wave of your shampoo.

“Uh, is this some prank I don’t know about? Am I getting punked?” his nervous stutterings are laced with a sort of hopefulness, glancing around as you slide into his atmosphere.

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be so stiff.” you taunt, and it gives him half a mind to reciprocate your advances out of pure habit, straitening his posture while a single finger of yours flicks up his super-suit. Your big doe eyes peer up at him, “Aren’t I your girlfriend too?” You use that inside joke against him, and he rolls his tongue between his lips.

Usually, he’d give in to the banter, partake in a little playful flirting but something felt off—and that feeling was confirmed as soon as the narrowed white eyes of Nightwing’s domino mask landed on the two of you.

“I shouldn’t even be humoring this. I know you were just doing it to get at me—and besides, what kind of a girlfriend does that shit anyway?” Dick rambles heatedly, that frustration shining through his husky and winded tone while he yanks you back onto his cock after you shied away. Pinned down on all fours by the vigilante’s overpowering strength, you’re forced to take what he gives you. Big hands bite into your torso, putting an ache into your organs while he moves you too roughly.

You pick up your head to respond, come to your own defense a little, but a palm spans the back of it to shove you right back down into the mattress. You get a mouthful of sheets while he says, “Shut up,” rather flippantly. His hips pass a bruising pace, and you yell into the blanket between your teeth. “No more jokes, no more Wally, I don’t want any more confusion on who you belong to.” he talks as if you’re someone to give orders to while his dick is lodged up in your insides, shooting an electric shock up your spine every time it sheathes. “You’ve got some kind of attitude problem, some little princess complex and I’m sick of it.”

[babybatsunite]

My girl - Spencer Reid x tattooed!fem reader

Genre: Fluff, romance

Word count: 1,5k

Summary: Spencer’s tough girlfriend, Y/n, was never the type to take shit from anyone. And it's not like a new recruit with attitude problems would be any different.

Warnings: Misogynistic views, homophobic language, English is not my first language.

The Quantico bullpen was buzzing as usual – ringing phones, the hum of the coffee maker, and agents running around with files. The BAU had been assigned a fresh case earlier that morning, leaving Spencer buried in boring paperwork.

It was around lunchtime when Spencer’s focus was interrupted by the familiar click of boots and a voice that sent his heart racing every time he heard it.

“Hey, genius,” you called, holding up a brown paper bag. “Thought you might want something that doesn’t taste like printer ink for lunch.”

Spencer’s head shot up, his lips curving into a soft smile as he took you in—blue hair tied up messily, tattoos peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeves of your dark flannel, ripped black jeans, and those scuffed combat boots you refused to part with. You looked effortlessly cool, as always.

“Y/N,” he said, standing up to greet you. “You didn’t have to do that!” Spencer said, kissing your lips softly.

You smirked. “Please, you’d survive on coffee and air if I didn’t step in.”

The interaction caught the attention of several team members. JJ and Garcia exchanged knowing glances, while Morgan shot Spencer a teasing grin. “Ah, the queen herself. You spoil him too much, Y/N.”

“Somebody’s gotta,” you shot back playfully, setting the bag on Spencer’s desk. “The man doesn’t even own a proper umbrella.”

“I do!” Spencer said defensively.

“That's not a travel-sized shower curtain?” you teased, earning a round of laughter from the nearby agents.

Everything was lighthearted and fine, until the new recruit, Agent Carter, sauntered over. Carter had been with the team for about two weeks, and while he was competent in the field, people whispered around about him being a complete asshole.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone clipped, eyes raking over your appearance with clear disdain.

You raised an eyebrow. “Nope. Just here to see my boyfriend.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Boyfriend? Here? You sure you’re not lost? You don’t exactly scream ‘i have a boyfriend.’” His tone was biting, with a sneer. “More like… a dealer who stumbled in from a punk concert.”

You stared at him for a beat, processing his words. “Wow,” you said flatly. “You’re bold for someone who looks like he barely passed the academy fitness test.”

“Who’s this?” Carter asked, nodding toward you with a smirk that made your skin crawl.

“This is Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice friendly but firm. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Carter’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low whistle. “No way. Didn’t peg you for the type, Reid.” You frowned but stayed quiet, observing the situation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked, his posture tensing slightly.

Carter shrugged, his tone casual but dripping with condescension. “I mean, no offense, but she kinda looks like… I don’t know, a lesbian junkie or something.”

The room went silent. JJ’s jaw dropped, Morgan stood up straighter, and Garcia’s eyes widened like saucers. Spencer’s face hardened—a rare sight, but one that immediately made everyone uncomfortable.

“That’s incredibly disrespectful,” Spencer said, his voice colder than anyone had ever heard it. “Y/N has a PhD in chemistry and is one of the smartest people I know.”

Carter laughed, clearly not reading the room. “Sure, she’s smart. But, come on, man. Look at her. She’s wearing more tattoos than clothes-”

“Excuse me?” you said, stepping forward before Spencer could react. Your tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, one that Spencer learned to identify quite early in your relationship. You were pissed.

The recruit scoffed, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. “I’m just saying, you don’t look the part. In fact—” He glanced at Spencer, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “—you kind of look like the man in the relationship. If that’s what we’re calling it.”

The bullpen went silent. A few heads turned, agents pausing mid-task to watch the scene unfold. Spencer’s cheeks flushed red, but before he could step in, you beat him to it.

You laughed—low, sharp, and dangerous. “Wow,” you said, shaking your head. “That’s the best you’ve got? I look like a man? Cute. Here’s the thing, son: there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian, and I don’t give a single damn what you or anyone else thinks I look like. I didn’t show up here for your approval, and I sure as hell don’t need it.”

You stepped even closer, your boots nearly touching his. The recruit visibly stiffened, his confidence faltering as you stared him down.

“Y/N,” Spencer called out, his voice a mix of warning and pleading.

You ignored him, stepping closer to the recruit with a calm tone that somehow made you more intimidating. “But let’s make one thing crystal clear,” you continued, your voice dropping to a near growl. “If you ever disrespect me or Spencer again, I’ll make sure you regret it. And not in a fun, HR-friendly way.”

The recruit opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked to Spencer for support, but Spencer just stood there, arms crossed, letting you handle it.

“Got it?” you asked, patting Carter’s shoulders. Your tone was sweet but with an edge sharp enough to cut glass.

The recruit nodded stiffly, clearly out of his depth.

“Good,” you said, stepping back. You looked at Spencer as if nothing had happened, flashing him a casual smile. “There you go, Penny. I hope you enjoy your lunch.”

Spencer blinked, torn between mortification and admiration. “Uh, thanks,” he said, taking the bag.

As you turned to leave, you shot the recruit one last look. “Oh, and FYI,” you added, smirking. “If I was the man in the relationship, you’d be begging me to fuck you. Think about that.”

The bullpen erupted in quiet murmurs as you walked out, leaving the recruit red-faced and stunned.

Spencer sank into his chair, running a hand through his hair. The team slowly gathered around him, grinning.

“Dude,” Morgan said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Your girl is savage.”

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, smirking. “How’d you land someone like her again?”

Spencer groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I have no idea,” he muttered.

---

Back at your shared apartment, whatever happened that day seemed like a distant memory. You were both curled up on the couch, freshly showered, with the muted hum of a playlist Spencer had made playing in the background. Spencer was lying with his head in your lap, legs stretched out along the cushions, while you twirled a strand of his long hair around your fingers.

A half-smoked cigarette rested in the ashtray on the coffee table, the faint smell of it lingering in the air. Spencer’s book was closed on his chest, his brown eyes tracing the tattoos on your arm gently.

“You know,” he said suddenly, his voice soft.

“Hm?” you hummed, looking down at him.

“I don’t understand why some people think you’re a lesbian.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the comment, then snorted. “Oh, yeah? That guy got in your head, huh?”

He shook his head quickly, his brow furrowing. “No, it’s just… I’ve been thinking about it. I mean, it doesn’t make sense. You’ve been with me for over five years. You’re—well, you’re you. You’re not exactly subtle about being with me. It’s not like you’re walking around holding a giant ‘I’m gay’ sign.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Babe, people are just dumb. I dress dark, I’ve got tattoos, and I don’t really scream ‘girlfriend of a genius FBI agent.’” You paused, smirking as you leaned down slightly. “Plus, you can’t lie—there’s a part of you that gets a little kick out of people being shocked I’m with you.”

His ears turned pink, and he looked away sheepishly. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, smiling.

You chuckled, brushing your thumb against his cheek, bringing his face towards you. “Look, I don’t blame them for getting the wrong idea. You’re my girl, after all.”

That caught him off guard. Spencer blinked up at you, a startled laugh escaping his lips. “Wait—what?”

“You heard me,” you said, leaning back smugly. “You’re my girl. Pretty, soft, and way too nice for your own good.”

“Pretty?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief but his smile growing. “I’m pretty now?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, nodding firmly. “You’ve got that whole delicate, intellectual vibe going. Pretty as hell.”

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he reached up and poked your side, making you squirm. “Well, if I’m pretty, what does that make you?”

You shrugged, grinning. “The badass who gets to call you hers.”

Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, pulling you down into a kiss.

“And yet, you’re still here,” you teased against his lips.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he replied with his voice low.

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other, as the night stretched on. Pretty boy and his badass girlfriend, what a team, huh.

[innerfare]

Smutty Zoro Headcanons 

Summary: a collection of NSFW Zoro headcanons

Genre: pure smut (afab!reader)

CW: high sex drive Zoro, oral sex, smug Zoro, use of Zoro's bandana as a gag (yes it tastes like sweat and no he doesn't care), creampies

———

Super disciplined, will go periods of time where he doesn’t jerk off (certainly doesn’t have sex) just to prove some sort of point to himself about a warrior’s restraint or whatever. Thinks he’s super good at this, but he gets noticeably more cranky during these times; Robin knows what’s up, but she doesn’t tell anyone, just giggles when Zoro bites someone’s head off. 

Pretty soon after meeting you, he replaces his ‘fasting’ with fucking. It becomes like a form of meditation for him. He despises himself for it. He doesn’t beg for the pussy like a certain cook, but he worries he would if you made him, and that’s enough to make him grind his teeth. 

Might get a little too into eating you out. He doesn’t ask if he can do it, just grabs you, pries your legs apart, and takes what he wants. Will spit into your hole and push it in with his fingers like an oral cream pie (anything to get his bodily fluids inside you). 

A stallion. So much stamina it’s unreal, to the point you worry there’s something wrong with you because it seems he doesn’t even have to work to hold back his orgasm. He can also cum on command. It’s kind of impressive. 

Teasing doesn’t work on him. If you do, he’ll call your bluff (Zoro is the literal king of acting disinterested). It won’t be long before he’s sitting with his back to his headboard, hands behind his head and legs spread, as you do all the work he would have done happily had you not been so annoying, pumping yourself up and down on his thick cock while he wears a devilish smirk. (Inspired by the scene in Punk Hazard when Tashigi goads him and he just sits back against the wall and lets her fight Monet herself; smug bastard.) 

You can get under his skin in other ways, though. If you touch his swords, ruffle his hair, call him cute/adorable, assert yourself as a better fighter, etc., he’ll take it out on you as soon as he manages to get you under him. His favorite position is from behind, crushing you with his big, muscular body, his strong hands wrapped around your wrists like shackles. Wants to claim you, and most especially, wants to wrestle with you. 

Roughhousing that turns into sex is very common, to the point there’s basically no difference between the two. Zoro is merciless, too. Don’t think for a second he'll let you win or that he won’t make fun of you when you lose. If you get upset, he’ll stroke your hair and kiss your cheek and say, “you put up a good fight, but you're no match for daddy,” before fucking you dumb. 

Zoro putting you in a headlock. Zoro putting you in a headlock. ZORO PUTTING YOU IN A HEADLOCK!

His dirty talk is usually short and gruff, him grumbling and barking orders at you. “Hold still.” “Quiet woman.” If not that, then he’s muttering little compliments. “My good girl.” “That’s a sweet pussy.” “Go ahead and cum.” Doesn’t ask if you’re going to cum, just tells you when to cum/when not to cum. 

Guilty of clamping his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. Even if there’s nobody around to hear, he’ll do it because he’s trying to concentrate. Also guilty of gagging you with the bandana he wears when he fights; yes, it tastes like sweat, and no, he’s not washing it just for your spoiled princess mouth. 

So smug when you’re sore it’s unreal. 

Extremely possessive. The deepest fucking you ever got from this man was after Sanji caught you one day when you slipped on deck. And jealousy isn't the only thing he deals with in this way. Thinks all problems should be fucked out rather than talked out.

Doesn’t like being called sweet pet names, wants to hear his name coming from your lips. He likes being called daddy, too, but prefers it when you pair it with his name. “Daddy Zoro.” Of course, calling him sweetie pie is a good way of coaxing him into fucking you hard because it annoys him, just do so at your own risk.

So into creampies it doesn’t even occur to him to want to cum somewhere else. If you tell him to pull out, be prepared to be met with a, “What? Why?” Blowjobs usually end in sex because he wants to cum inside you. And if he thinks you’re a little too hasty in trying to clean yourself up, he’ll wrestle you back beneath him and cum inside you again. 

Likes to make you fuck yourself on his cock and refuse to let you cum, forcing you to bring yourself to the edge again and again until you’re a panting mess with quivering legs. Only then will he flip you over and fuck you good. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[sunflowerhyun]

how he sees me | hwang hyunjin | part two

ᝰ summary: “Do you love me?” she asked.

In his hesitation, she found her answer.

OR, alternatively, Hyunjin is a little bit of an asshole and Y/N just misses him.

ᝰ pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

ᝰ genre: ex-childhood-friends-to-lovers, punk!hyunjin au

ᝰ warnings: ! MDNI ! cursing, many references to past situations (in italics), alcohol consumption, angst, themes of depression, slight smut (?) consisting of making-out and brief grinding

ᝰ wc: 8k+

ᝰ a/n: it’s 4am and the long awaited part two is finally here!!! this part is a little heavy on y/n’s emotions, and very angst-y (i’m sorry in advance). i hope you all enjoy it just as much as i did writing it ♡

ᝰ reference the masterlist here.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The first time Y/N met Hyunjin was in elementary school and she remembered every detail.

It was at the beginning of their math class, when Y/N was just starting the third grade. She remembers how excited she was to be in a new school, hair up in pig-tails, flower dress on. She was so giddy that she didn’t even mind sitting in the front by herself, happily swinging her feet in her chair as she colored on her notebook before class started. She was so giddy that she didn’t even notice when her teacher, Mrs. Anderson, had walked in with a little boy, standing beside her with his hands clutching his scooby doo lunch box.

He was dressed in a nice blue button up and khakis, cheeks chubby with a slight pinkness to them. His hair was nicely cut and slicked back at the top; he looked like a proper little boy, which is exactly what he was.

Mrs. Anderson started talking, to introduce the new student as Hyunjin from South Korea, and Y/N immediately felt even more giddy.

He had enthusiastically introduced himself and Mrs. Anderson told him to sit wherever he wanted. Y/N pouted slightly at this, knowing he would choose a seat next to someone else, as nobody ever wanted to share a desk with her if they could help it. Her eyes widened slightly whenever he had threw his lunch box on the desk beside hers, and she looked up in surprise, seeing a sly grin take over his lips as he sat down.

“Hi.” He spoke, side-eyeing her as he took out his own notebook and a pencil.

“Hi, Hyunjin. My name is Y/N!” She excitedly grinned, and Hyunjin faced her. He gave her a quick glance from head-to-toe, a grin forming on his lips as he let out a, “Hi, Y/N. You remind me of a flower. Do you like flowers? My favorite ones are roses. My nanny says they are a symbol of love, but I have no idea what that means. Do you like roses, too?”

The talking continued all until lunch, when Hyunjin had sat with her at the lunch table in the cafeteria. He was eating some dumplings, while Y/N was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She had asked them if they were good, and he started feeding her bites of his. In return, she halved her sandwich and shared it with him.

In between bites and giggles, Y/N had quickly found out that Hyunjin liked to talk. He talked and he talked until school was dismissed, where he was forced to leave her side for the day.

“We are going to be the best of friends!” Hyunjin had spoke as he stood up after the teachers called out his name, indicating his ride was here to pick him up.

“Pinky promise?” Y/N had asked, holding her pinky up in the air. He giggled at this, not hesitating to wrap his around hers with a, “I pinky promise!”

It’s funny how things turn out, isn’t it?

Pinky promises were just full of shit. Y/N knew that, and yet she still made them anyway. And out of the many that she has made, it only took one broken promise to completely change everything; it only took one broken promise from him to completely change everything.

Y/N had grown up with him, had spent every single second of her free time with him amongst the stars and the skies and whatever else. He was there when she had her first period, standing at her front door with a box of pads and some chocolate milk his nanny had bought for him to give her after she had ignored him for two days and yelled at him for stepping on the back of her shoes at recess. He was there when she had gotten her first job as a waitress at a café up the street, being her first customer and tipping her $50 for a simple cup of coffee and a bagel, just because he knew she was struggling with money. He was there when her grandma had passed away from breast cancer after a long two years of fighting, laying with her for hours in the pitch black dark and silence, holding her while she cried in his chest.

Y/N remembered every detail of their friendship, whether it be the good or the bad, but what she remembered most was the little things that he never saw in himself.

Whenever he smiled, his eyes would form little crescents and his laugh would sound like her favorite song. He always tilted his head back whenever he would laugh at something stupid, and Y/N hated when he did that because everything went dull and dark. But whenever he looked back at her, the light would return as quickly as it faded and the universe would spin again.

Whenever he was anxious about something, his foot would bounce up and down repeatedly. Y/N would always have to put her hand on the top of his thigh to remind him to calm down, and she remembered the look on his face each time. His cheeks would redden slightly, a sheepish smile on his lips, and he would mumble out a soft apology. Everytime she moved her hand away, he would put it back, insisting that the only way he wouldn’t move his foot was if her hand stayed there.

He was the happiest when he was painting. Y/N loved to watch him paint.

He started painting in middle school, when they were both thirteen. He had decided to take art as one of his electives and easily succeeded in it. It came so naturally to him, just as everything did, and Y/N had wished more times than once that she could have that ability to be perfect in every single thing she did.

When he was younger, Hyunjin painted flowers. Roses were his favorites, so naturally, that was what he started with. Y/N remembered watching him paint whenever she came over, laying on his bed with her iPad in front of her while he sat at his desk with a picture of roses pulled up on his laptop. His eyes had a different twinkle in them while he was focused on the colors and the shapes, and his tongue would stick out slightly on the side of his mouth in concentration. She was always so mesmerized by him and would watch him for hours without complaint. The look on his face once he finished always made up for the long wait—the excited glint in his eyes, the higher-pitched voice he had when he turned around to show her, the wide smile that always reached his eyes, the warmth on his cheeks.

He was falling in love with art, while she was falling in love with him.

Coming to that realization as they got older became difficult for Y/N to grasp. In a way, she knew that she had always loved him. The little things that defined him as his own person clouded her mind for years, slipping into her dreams while she yearned for it to become a reality. He was always her Hyunjin, and she was always his Y/N.

And she hated the fact that she was still wanting to believe that.

“You’re not going tomorrow.”

Y/N didn’t move from her current spot in her bed, hidden under the covers, arms wrapped around her body and pulling herself together. Everything was dark, just as she wanted it to be, tears and make-up staining the pillow case she was laying her head on. Felix had finally gotten her out of the bathroom at the club, wrapping her in his arms and leading her outside to Minho’s car without making a scene. Majority of the people there were too preoccupied anyway, much to Y/N’s relief.

Minho had insisted on coming back with them, just to make sure they got home safely, much to Y/N’s protests. She begged for him to stay with his friends and not worry about her, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She already felt extremely embarrassed at the fact that she had made a scene outside, in front of Chan and his bandmates, in front of Minho and Felix, in front of Hyunjin.

Her Hyunjin.

“Are you even listening to me? Look, I really hate to be that friend, but you are not going to that festival tomorrow. It’s only going to satisfy him in such a fucked up way that you’re going to be there watching him perform. It’s not good for you. You’re not going.”

“How about you stop bossing her around and let her decide what’s best for herself?” Minho’s voice chimed in.

“No offense, but you don’t know half the shit that asshole has done to her. She needs someone to talk some sense into her because I know she’s going to want to go, and it isn’t going to turn out good.” Felix scoffed out a reply, and Y/N could hear some shuffling as she felt someone sit on the edge of her bed.

“Still, it’s up to her. You shouldn’t be telling her to do something just because you think it would benefit her for the good. People cope in different ways.”

“She had a fucking panic attack from that guy!” Felix exclaimed, the bed shaking a little as he held his hands up in exaggeration. “That should say everything! And even then—“

“I’m not going,” Y/N interrupted him, snuggling deeper into her pillow. Her head was starting to hurt and she couldn’t take the constant bickering back and forth, “I’m not going, okay? Can you please just… stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

It was quiet for a moment, and then she heard a sigh.

The bed moved again, bedsheets rustling, and then she could feel a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Felix spoke, rubbing her shoulder over the comforter, “We didn’t mean to come off that way. Do you need anything?”

“No,” She quickly replied, secretly hoping Felix would get up and leave her alone. She loved him to death, but she just wanted to be alone right now, to wallow in her self-pity a bit longer. It was quiet for another moment, and then she felt the hand on her shoulder trail down to her back.

“I’m gonna go get you some water, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Footsteps were heard going out her bedroom door until they grew faint, and Y/N let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding. She closed her eyes, pulling the blanket closer to her chest, when a soft voice spoke out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It was Minho, and Y/N could feel his presence coming closer to her. She froze for a second, forgetting that he was even still here, pulling the blanket off of her so she could see him.

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, hands twitching slightly by his side, as if he didn’t know what to do with them, “I’m so sorry. I would have never brought you there or even offered if I knew. I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. I’m just—I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Y/N sat up, wiping underneath her eyes with her hands in attempt to get some of the mascara and eyeliner off of her face, reaching her hand out towards him. He hesitated for a moment before slowly grasping her hand in his, and Y/N smiled briefly, knowing Minho wasn’t the biggest on touch yet still let her hold him in a way.

“It’s not your fault. Exactly like you just said, you didn’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to go through that again. And it’s a little embarrassing,” She let out a chuckle, “I’m just embarrassed right now is all. You didn’t know. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I know but still,” He replied with a sigh, “I just won’t go tomorrow either. We can all go do something else—“

“No, you’re going to go,” She interrupted him, “Chan is your best friend. You’ve been so excited about it. You’re going to go and enjoy yourself and support him. Just because he’s in the same band doesn’t mean you can’t go.”

“Well, yeah, but I’d feel weird if I—“

“Minho, you’re giving me a headache,” Y/N interrupted him, again, letting go of his hand to lay back down with a dramatic sigh.

Minho rolled his eyes, “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Go where?” Felix asked as he re-entered the room, placing the cup of ice water with a lemon slice in it on her bedside table.

“The festival.”

“Oh, you’re still going?” He asked Minho, but before he could answer, Y/N spoke up, “Yes, he’s still going. And you are, too.”

“Hell the fuck no I’m not,” Felix scoffed out, crossing his arms across his chest.

Y/N groaned in slight annoyance, “You are both getting on my nerves. Lix, you had such a good time tonight, and I could tell you really liked Chan and Changbin. I was just telling Minho this, but just because he’s a bit of an asshole, doesn’t mean you can’t go support everyone else. It’s not going to hurt my feelings, I promise. Plus, I kind of want to be alone for a bit. No offense.”

“A bit of an asshole?! More like a—“

“Lix,” Minho interrupted him with a warning glare, and Felix sighed, glancing over at Y/N who was already looking at him with a pleading expression. Rather it be the tired, broken look in her eyes or the fact that she might be right, Felix found himself caving in, sighing out a short, “Fine.”

Y/N smiled slightly, mumbling out a thank you as she curled herself back up into her comforter. She just wanted them to be happy and enjoy themselves; that’s all she wants. Plus, Minho had paid a lot for the tickets and she didn’t want them to go to waste. She decided she would Venmo him for her portion anyway once she mustered enough energy to roll over and glance at her phone.

“I guess we’ll leave you alone for a bit. It’s almost midnight so we should probably get some rest anyway since the festival starts at noon tomorrow,” Minho let out, Felix reluctantly agreeing. The same hand was felt on her shoulder again, a deep sigh carrying out through the room.

“Try to get some sleep, okay? We’ll see you in the morning before we leave.” Felix softly spoke, and Y/N nodded her head in reply, even though they couldn’t see her.

Seconds later the door quietly shut and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Everything was now silent and dark, despite the faint sounds of Felix and Minho walking around the house, and Y/N suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, mind drifting back to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin, and his stupid long hair and piercing brown eyes. Hyunjin, and his beautiful body that was now adorned in multiple tattoos and piercings. Hyunjin, who seemed to be a completely different person, yet still so familiar at the same time.

She rolled over, throwing the comforter off of her curled up body, sitting up on the side of the bed. Glancing at her window, she noticed the stars were out. She slowly got out of bed, pulling her dress down a little as she approached the window, the stars and the moon shining brightly, igniting a soft glow. Her hand carefully grazed the coolness of the window, a tear slowly falling down her cheek as she sunk down to the floor, nothing but Hyunjin on her mind.

——>

“Do you think we’re best friends in every universe?”

Hyunjin swiped the brush against the canvas in front of him before dipping it in the now dirty cup of water, tongue peeking out from the corner of his lip, letting out a soft hum in response. Y/N rolled over to her stomach at his response, hands underneath her chin as she faced him, canvas blocking half of his face from her view.

“Did you hear me?” She asked with a small huff, and Hyunjin glanced at her briefly before continuing his strokes on the canvas.

“Why are you asking such a random question? Obviously.” He replied with a click of his tongue and a slight eye roll.

Y/N glanced around his bedroom, eyes settling on his desk cluttered with multiple art supplies and sketches, and then at the picture of her and him at the photo booth at Chuck e. cheese hanging up on his wall. She chose her next question carefully, softly. “So you don’t think that in another universe, we could be something else?”

Hyunjin glanced at her again, and she could feel his gaze on her face, but her eyes stayed locked on the picture. “Like what?” He asked.

She shuffled a little bit in his bed, hands coming down to lay in front of her as she played with the loose thread on his comforter. “Like… two pigeons running down the beach. Or sunflowers swaying in a field,” She spoke, in thought, before leaning her head on one of her hands, “We could even be married in another life. Wouldn’t that be fun? Growing old together?”

It was quiet for a minute, the sound of birds faintly chirping outside being the only sound heard. Y/N snuck a glance at him, wishing she could see his entire expression instead of only half, gulping loudly when seeing that he looked lost in thought.

“Yeah, it would,” He finally replied, voice coming out soft, unwavering. “We are going to grow old together anyway, though. So I guess it wouldn’t matter if we were married or not.”

Y/N glanced at the picture again, the giant smiles plastered on their faces as they excitedly hugged each other. She remembered them wanting to be as close as possible to ensure they both fit in the picture from how small the booth was; being as close as possible to one another was always their thing. She wished they could get closer.

“But wouldn’t it be nice to be married to each other? And to do things married people do? To… to wake up beside each other every morning, and to cook dinner together every night, and… and…” She trailed off, cheeks heating up when realizing she was definitely speaking her inner thoughts out loud and she definitely should not finish her sentence. Her hands began to grow clammy from the slight anxiety she was feeling, and she shook her head slightly, sitting up on the edge of the bed and reaching for her iPad and bag.

“Nevermind. I don’t really know what I’m saying,” She laughed out, shoving her belongings into her bag quickly before throwing it over her shoulder. “I’m gonna head out. Mom’s making dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She quickly walked past him, a soft grip on her wrist making her stop in her tracks. She looked up to see that Hyunjin had stood up, the paint brush now sitting in the cup, his expression soft. “It would be nice,” He let out, and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, “We already do those things, anyway. But you know you’re the only person I’d want to do it with. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend. Right. They are best friends, and that’s all it would ever be.

“Yeah,” She replied, eyes trailing down to the plush of his lips. The last time they kissed was when they had their second make out session in the back seat of his car after he finished soccer practice two weeks ago. Her cheeks started to heat up at the memory, and she found herself biting her bottom lip slightly when remembering the sound he made whenever she accidentally pressed down too hard on his lap.

Hyunjin noticed, finding himself doing the same as his teeth sunk into his lower lip, the grip on her wrist tightening slightly. Nothing was said for a minute, the tension shifting in the air. And then his lips were on hers for the third time.

Y/N doesn’t know who initiated it first, but she didn’t care. The bag that was on her shoulder fell to the floor with a soft thud and his hands were cupping her face. She put hers on his shoulders, trailing them up and down, not exactly sure where she should put them. She just wanted to feel him in more ways than one, so she took a step forward, his knees hitting the edge of the bed as he fell on top of it. Their kiss broke, but only for a second before Y/N was climbing on top of him, a small moan escaping his lips as she kissed him again.

She was definitely feeling more confident this time. The first time her and Hyunjin had made out was sloppy, but it was amazing. The second time was rushed and hot, as Hyunjin just needed to release some steam from a shitty practice he had. But this time was desperate and so, so dangerous. It was so dangerous because she was becoming addicted and eventually it was going to kill her.

His hands gripped her thighs, and she pulled back. “W-we’re doing it again,” She stuttered out, his lips moving to her neck, making the butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“And?” He replied, hands now moving towards her ass, letting out a deep groan at the fullness in his hands. He kissed her again, slipping his tongue past her lips, and she let out a content sigh at the feeling.

“I-is this… weird to you?” She struggled to get out her sentence, rolling her head to the side to give him access to her neck instead of her lips. It’s not that she didn’t want to kiss him, she most definitely did, but she wanted to see where his head was at. Which was, unfortunately, sometimes difficult to do.

He didn’t reply, choosing to pepper her neck with kisses and slight bites, and she shifted on his lap each time, soft moans filling his room. “Jinnie,” She tried to get his attention again, gasping slightly when feeling him underneath her, a tingling sensation traveling down from her head to her toes. He buckled his hips up, and she gently pushed him down.

“What?” He asked, panting slightly, lips red and moist from their spit, and she gulped before asking her question again. Hyunjin was starring so intensely at her that it made her squirm in his lap, and he tightened his grip on her ass slightly.

“No, I don’t think it’s weird,” He replied out through breaths, eyes trailing down her body and back up to her face briefly, “We’re just best friends who sometimes make out. People do it all the time.”

Do they? Y/N thought to herself, glancing down at her thighs and away from him, an uneasy feeling growing in her chest. Hyunjin noticed her expression, moving his hands to her hips instead, rubbing them a little as an act of comfort.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asked, a slightly concerned expression on his face, and Y/N immediately shook her head.

“Of course not! I’m always comfortable with you. It’s just… is this… okay? Are we… okay?”

His hands stopped their movements, and Y/N immediately regretted the question that just came out of her mouth. He looked as if he was lost in thought, a slight pout on his lips, and his hair was slightly falling into his eyes, looking a little unkempt, but Y/N thought he was beautiful.

“I don’t see an issue with it,” He finally replied, lightly trailing his hands up and down her thighs, a soft grin forming on his lips, “Like I said, we’re best friends who sometimes make out. We’re okay. Nothing will change that.”

Y/N woke up to her phone going off, the vibration making a screeching noise on her bedside table, eyes struggling to open from the bright sun that was currently gracing her face. She blinked a couple times, letting out an annoyed groan as she covered her eyes with her hand in attempt to block out the light from blinding her vision so early in the morning.

The first thing she noticed once she somewhat came to her senses was that she was so uncomfortable. Her back was aching and her neck was as stiff as a rock, and she turned her head to the side to notice that she was currently laying on the floor next to the window. No wonder her back felt like shit.

She cursed to herself, bringing herself up to sit on her knees, back popping and a grimace forming on her lips. She can’t believe she slept an entire night on the floor. And she didn’t even change out of her dress or take her makeup off, which is something she always does, so why did she not do it this time?

Memories from last night flooded her brain all at once, and suddenly, she wasn’t able to feel the physical pain from her back or her neck, because nothing can compare to the pain of heartbreak. The dream she had last night of her and Hyunjin was fresh in her mind, hitting her like a ton of bricks as she felt a heavy feeling in her chest. Waking up to the thought of him was not a great start to her day, but it’s not like she never stopped thinking about him anyway.

Willing herself to stand up and stop wallowing so much in her self-pity, she slowly shuffled her way towards her bathroom, turning the light on and cringing at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a fucking wreck, with mascara running down her face in streaks, lipstick slightly smudged around her mouth, eyes puffy and red and dry. Her hair was still slicked back into the ponytail and she mentally rated the styling cream she used five stars. However, she couldn’t think about that long as the events from last night kept replaying in her mind.

“Hey Petal.”

He had called her by her nickname that he made for her when they were in middle school, when Hyunjin had gifted her a bouquet of roses after her chorus concert. It seemed fitting at the time, so naturally, the nickname stuck with her. He was the only one who called her that, and he was the only one she wanted to call her that. But last night, it didn’t seem right coming from his lips when there was so much distance between them for years. Yet, she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest when he spoke to her, despite everything.

Another vibration from her phone interrupted her thoughts and she shook her head slightly before walking to her bedside table to unplug her phone, seeing that she had multiple unread texts and two calls from Felix.

lix🐥: hey ugly

lix🐥: minho convinced me to not wake u up, but i left u some ramen if ur hungry whenever u get up. we’re heading to the festival now but i’ll text u whenever we get there

lix🐥: we’re here. it’s crowded af and my social anxiety is slowly brewing 😀 gonna get some drinks and claim us a spot. i’ll send pics l8ter

lix🐥: 1 attachment

lix🐥: me and minho are currently downing this bucket of beers rn. say a prayer for me plz. miss u

lix🐥: 2 missed calls

lix🐥: hey bubs it’s been like 3 hrs since i last texted can u tell me if ur alive at least bc im ✨worried✨

lix🐥: ///:

y/n: i’m alive. i just woke up. stop worrying about me and enjoy yourself. let me know when you’re both otw home and be safe

lix🐥: 🫡

Y/N let out a sigh, locking her phone back before throwing it on her bed. She shivered, goosebumps forming on her skin from the AC that just turned on, reminding her that she was still in her dress that was now bunched up her ass. She cringed at that fact, deciding she should take a shower and wash away the overwhelming sense of depression and desperation she was currently feeling from last night, feet shuffling against the floor as she made her way back towards the bathroom to turn the water on.

She took her time washing her hair and body before finding herself curling up on the floor of the shower, head resting against the coolness of the tile behind her as she soaked in the scalding hot water falling down her body. Hyunjin had always hated how hot she kept the water when she showered, and she found herself thinking back to one of the multiple times he had yelled at her over it.

“Are you almost done?!” Hyunjin yelled from the inside of his bedroom, laying down on his bed with his phone in his hands, “I’ve got to shower too, you know! I can only wait so long!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore him as she hummed to Katy Perry’s Fireworks that was currently playing on his bluetooth speaker. She just finished shaving her legs and was currently finishing up washing her body with her designated hot pink loofah that always hung next to Hyunjin’s blue one in the shower.

“Hello?! Are you ignoring me?!” He yelled out again just as she finished rinsing off.

“I told you I would let you know when I’m done! Stop yelling and being so dramatic and wait your turn!”

She heard some shuffling, and then the bathroom door slammed open, making Y/N let out a short scream. “What are you doing?! You’re not allowed in here yet!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see him, reaching up to tug his shirt off and throwing it on the bathroom floor, “You’re taking too long so I’m coming in. I smell like grass and shit and it’s starting to give me a headache.”

“Like hell you are!” Y/N replied, opening the shower door slightly so she could peek her head out, a gasp threatening to escape her mouth when she caught sight of a shirtless Hyunjin who was now in the process of sliding his athletic shorts off his legs. “Are you insane?! Do not come in here! I’m literally naked!”

“No shit,” Hyunjin let out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he stepped out of his shorts, “I won’t look at you. We can just graze our butt cheeks against each other as we take turns rinsing off. This is a great way for us to up our friendship level.”

Y/N could feel her face turning red at his comment, mouth falling open in complete disbelief that he had even said that, and she found herself stuttering out a mix of words that made absolutely no sense. It was when Hyunjin reached for his briefs, about to take them off, that had her finally forming words.

“Stop!” She screeched out, a smirk of triumph forming on Hyunjin’s lips as he glanced at her, “Oh my god, you’re literally so annoying! Hand me my towel, asshole.”

Hyunjin smirked widened as he reached for the towel currently folded and sitting on the toilet seat. He unwrapped it, handing it out to her with a sickly sweet look on his face, and Y/N huffed in annoyance before jerking it out of his hands. She could hear Hyunjin singing, could picture him currently rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet as he waited for her to step out. She decided to turn the hot water up slightly out of spite before she wrapped the towel around her body, opening the door wider and stepping out of the shower.

Just as she suspected, Hyunjin was still standing there, grin still on his face. He glanced at her feet, and then back to her face, a few drops of water trailing down her neck. She glared at him, “You’re not even going to say thank you for keeping the water on for you?”

He let out a chuckle, finding himself wanting to wipe the drops of water off her neck but restrained himself, “Thanks, Pedal. You’re an angel.”

“Idiot.” She mumbled to herself, letting out a small shriek when he reached for his briefs again, quickly running out of the room and closing the bathroom door. She could hear Hyunjin laughing on the other side and wanted to yell at him to shut up but decided against it.

She began drying herself off when she heard him scream, giggling to herself as she knew what he was screaming about, pulling her shirt over her head. “Seriously, Y/N?! You’ve just scalded my dick over here!”

She laughed to herself, a pleasing smile on her face as she continued to get dressed. “You’re not going to even say anything?! You keep the water way too hot! No wonder your skin is always so red!”

“Shut up and shower! You smell like shit!” She yelled back, thankful that nobody was home to hear them basically cussing each other out.

Suddenly, a loud bang was heard, a long groan following shortly after. Y/N turned her head towards the bathroom, immediately rushing in to see Hyunjin’s silhouette laying on shower floor.

“Oh my god, Jinnie!” She yelled out, “Are you okay? Did you just fall?”

She opened the shower door slightly to get a glimpse of him just to make sure he was okay, letting out the loudest scoff when seeing a smirk on his face, a satisfied hum escaping his lips. “Now if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask, Pedal.”

“Shut up, idiot!” She replied, quickly shutting the door back, face flushing even more when he began laughing like the little menace he is. She decided she was going to turn the water even hotter next time.

The urge to cry again was strong, but she was sick of crying; she was sick of feeling this way, so she told herself she wasn’t going to cry anymore. That mindset didn’t last long, however, as she eventually felt her eyes tearing up.

Hyunjin was always in the back of her mind someway or another, but now that she had seen him in the flesh after so many years, she didn’t know what to think. She had spent months attempting to reach out once he had left, attempting to even ask his own parents where he had gone, and got nothing in return. Eventually, the texts went from blue to green, and her heart went from broken to completely shattered.

Hyunjin had always wanted to be an artist. He loved to create art, through paint or pencils or dance. He was always creative and told his own stories in more subtle ways, always full of light despite the lingering darkness that always found a way back to him. Y/N had noticed more times than once that he would put on an act at times, knowing how much he despised his parents, knowing that he hated living at home. She knew he wanted to leave, but she didn’t think he would leave without her. And then he leaves, disappears for years, and now suddenly shows back up as the lead singer of a band? Hyunjin had always wanted to be an artist, so it didn’t make any sense to her. None of it made sense to her.

She grew annoyed at the fact that she was crying again, harshly wiping her tears from her face. She wanted to scream, wanted to claw her skin off her body; she hated feeling this way, and she hated the way her heart was reacting. She should be angry, completely and utterly repulsed at the thought of seeing Hyunjin after the shit he has put her through. But she isn’t, and she hates herself for it.

She just missed him. She missed him so much.

Y/N doesn’t know how long she stayed sitting in the shower, but it was long enough to where the hot water ran out and her skin turned wrinkly. She felt numb to the coldness of the water, not even flinching when feeling it falling down on her, suffocating her. Right now, she wished it would. It would be so much easier.

Y/N thought about seeing a therapist for the longest time after Hyunjin had left her. It wasn’t until her breakdown with Felix that had her solidifying the fact that she definitely needed to talk to someone, as it was now interfering with her intimacy with other people. Felix had befriended her and guided her to get the help she needed, and she would forever be grateful for that. She was getting better, had graduated university in the top 10% of her class, got herself a job working in the ICU at one of the top hospital’s in the state, and had made new friends and memories. She was getting better until she saw him, and now it feels like it’s back to square one.

She thought of Hyunjin and the many pinky promises he had made with her. She thought of Hyunjin and the way he always made her feel safe. She thought of Hyunjin and his tattoos and piercings and long hair that covered his eyes so elegantly. She thought of the smirk on his lips, the fire his touch left on her skin, and she became angry. How dare he just show up again like this after years and pretend nothing had even happened?She was pissed at the thought of him acting so nonchalant, so unbothered, while she had spent years crying and praying for him to come back to her somehow.

It was uncanny, really—a fever dream. And she’ll be damned if she lets him get away again so easily.

She turned the shower off, a sudden coolness gracing her skin as she stepped out of the shower. She didn’t even bother wrapping herself up in a towel, leaving a trail of water as she rushed back into her bedroom, clicking on Felix’s location. After all, she did still have the ticket saved on her phone, and she didn’t want it to go to waste.

y/n: changed my mind, i’ve decided to come. i’ll be there soon

——>

It was excruciatingly hot.

Y/N was stood in line to get a drink, (liquid courage, of course), and she could just practically feel the sweat dripping down her back and into her skirt. The thought made her cringe but she had been in line for about thirty minutes now and it was almost her turn, so she had to tough it out. It’s insane how hot it was even at 1600, but luckily, the sun would be going down soon.

She sighed, pushing the sunglasses she was wearing further up her nose, glancing over to see a girl wearing a black crop top with Stray Kids engraved across her breasts in red.

“You’re here for Stray Kids, I’m assuming?” She let out without thinking, the girl turning to look at her, placing a hand on her forehead in attempts to block the sun from her eyes.

“Hell yeah! They’re the only reason I came to this thing,” She grinned, quickly taking her phone out of her pocket to show her the back of her phone case, “Huge Hyunjin girlie. I wanna fuck him so bad, dude. He’s sex on legs.”

Y/N felt her breath hitch at the picture she had on her phone case. He was posing in the mirror, his collarbones and shoulders on display, hair bleached blonde, biting his lip softly. She had only ever seen him with black hair, so this was new to her.

She found herself starring at the picture for far too long, the girl letting out a giggle before putting her phone back in her back pocket of her jean shorts. “Told you, sex on legs,” She grinned again, and Y/N couldn’t disagree with that statement, “I heard he gets around with his fans. Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight.”

Y/N felt a strange feeling of slight jealousy at her comments, annoyance overcoming her and she glared at the girl through her sunglasses. She shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place because now her mood turned sour and she just wanted to punch this girl in the face for even thinking she would end up in his bed.

Choosing to ignore her, she finally ended up at the front of the line, ordering the largest size of a frozen mango margarita. She took a large gulp as she turned around after saying a quick thank you, eyes scanning the huge crowd in attempts to find the B stage that Felix and Minho were currently standing at. However, she realized she should probably use the bathroom before she met up with them, so she asked the closest person she could find where the bathrooms were.

“They’re right over there!” She replied, pointing to a section where a bunch of different trailers were parked. She thanked them and made her way over there, finding the closest trailer and walking inside.

She cringed at the thought of bringing her drink into the bathroom with her, (she should’ve thought this through), but had no choice but to, stepping inside the bathroom and sliding the door shut.

After she washed and dried her hands, she let out a sigh, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She had opted to braid her hair instead of attempting to fix it, the two braids hanging over her shoulders. Her top was low cut, black, and lace, splitting down the middle and flowing over her sides, coming down to her boots that covered her ankles. Her stomach was on display, belly button ring shining from the light in the bathroom. She wanted to fit the festival vibe a little more, and she wanted to dress confidently. She thought she looked good, but would it be good enough for him? She shook her head, trying to get those thoughts out of her mind, grabbing her drink and sliding open the bathroom door.

She was surprised to see a guy sitting on the couch that was weirdly placed near the bathroom, stumbling back slightly when seeing that he looked awfully familiar.

He glanced up at the sound, eyebrow furrowing in confusion. “Uh,” He let out, glancing her body over from head to toe before looking back at her face, “Who the fuck are you?”

Slightly taken aback, she took a step backwards, “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Now you’re hot and all, but who the fuck are you and why are you in my trailer?”

Y/N blinked, words failing to come out, and she knew she looked like an absolute idiot. Why did this guy look so familiar, and why was he talking to her like that? Isn’t this the public restroom?

“Alright, I’m calling security.” He decided, beginning to type in a number on his phone, and Y/N was frozen in her spot. What the fuck was going on?

Before anything could happen, the door opened, and Y/N felt her throat close up.

“Han, you won’t believe what shit I just heard. I—“ Hyunjin stopped his sentence, eyes widening when seeing that Y/N was standing in their trailer. Y/N couldn’t move, couldn’t speak—she felt like she could pass out any second now. Everything was happening too fast, and she could feel her breathing picking up.

Not even five seconds passed and two men were barging through the door, shoving past Hyunjin and heading straight towards Y/N. She took a step back in fright, stumbling when both of the men gripped her arms so tightly it was sure to leave a bruise. She let out a gasp, the men dragging her like she was some ragdoll, and Hyunjin immediately stepped in front of the door.

“What the fuck? Don’t touch her like that!” He yelled out, but the men ignored him, continuing to shove her towards the door. It wasn’t until she stumbled over her feet and fell, one of the men roughly grabbing her and jerking her back up, that Hyunjin had lost it.

“I said don’t fucking touch her! Put her the fuck down and take your hands off her before I get you both fired!”

It was then that the men let her go, and Y/N immediately backed away. She let out a wince, rubbing her arms, noticing that she already had a bruise forming on her thigh from when she fell. Her arms were aching and she just wanted to get the hell out of here. This was such a bad idea. She shouldn’t have came.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” The guy on the couch, Han, asked, and Hyunjin glared at him.

“What am I doing?! What the fuck are you doing? Did you seriously call them to come get her?”

Han let out a scoff, “Obviously. She’s in our trailer. I mean she’s fine as hell but she’s obviously a crazed fan. Why else would she be in here?”

If looks could kill, Han would be dead by now. “She’s not a crazed fan! I know her! It’s Y/N!” He yelled out, Han’s eyes widening slightly in realization, and Y/N could cry right now. “Get out!” He screamed at the two men still standing by the door, then glancing back at Han who now looked guilty as fuck sitting on the couch. “You too!”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to go?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care! Just please get out.”

Han let out a sigh, glancing over at Y/N, mumbling out an apology before heading out the door. It was quiet, too quiet, and Y/N refused to look up, hugging her arms across her chest.

“I… I was just coming to use the bathroom,” She softly spoke, not really knowing what else to say other than to explain herself, “This girl told me this was where the public restrooms were. I—I didn’t know it was your trailer. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go now.”

She then quickly attempted to walk past him and out the door, but a hand on her wrist stopped her. She winced slightly, and he immediately let go, letting out a, “It’s okay. You… you don’t have to leave.”

She could feel her eyes watering, a heavy feeling in her chest, so she chose to ignore him and pushed the door open. A strangled noise behind her made her stop in her tracks, voice heavy, pleading.

“Please don’t leave me.”

A tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away, taking in a deep breath, closing her eyes. This was what she wanted, right? She wanted to be able to see him again, to talk to him, to ask him why he left. So why was it so hard?

She stood there for a second before slowly turning around, eyes softening at the sight of him. His eyes were heavy, glossing over, and Y/N just wanted to hug him. So she did.

He stumbled back a few steps before his arms latched around her, holding her close to him. Her face was buried in his shirt, her arms wrapped around his neck. She was holding him so tightly, afraid if she let go he would disappear again. And she really, really didn’t want him to disappear again.

“I’ve missed you,” She sobbed out, tears soaking his shirt, but she couldn’t help it. The words kept coming out and she couldn’t stop it. “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t—I can’t…”

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’m here, Y/N,” He whispered in her ear, and she sobbed even harder. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m here. I’m right here.”

It was embarrassing, really, how easily her body betrayed her—how easily her mind betrayed her. When it comes to him, she has no self control, no mind of her own. He was here and she was here and that was all that mattered; he was all that mattered.

She was sure she would regret this later. But right now, she needed him to hold her. It was all she wanted for five years; it was all she ever wanted.

So he held her and she held him and she cried and cried and cried, until she couldn’t anymore. And when he wiped her tears away with his fingers once she looked at him, when he whispered how much he missed her and how sorry he was, when he cradled her face in his hands so tenderly and looked into his eyes that she loved so much, she finally felt at home.

“Hyunnie, I brought you some of those churros you like,” A girl’s voice was heard once the door opened, and Y/N turned around, heart dropping in the pit of her stomach when seeing the same girl from last night that was kissing and grinding all over him. “Maybe after you eat we can—oh. Who’s this?”

And maybe that’s the best thing about home—the feeling of it. Where we love is home. Even if we have to physically walk away from it, our hearts will still stay.

Hyunjin was her home. But she wasn’t his.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

▫️taglist: @hyundumpling, @hhwangsmoon, @luvyblossom, @inthefairygrove

[ghxstmxchine]

ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇꜱ

☆ ᴀ/ɴ: letting myself be a teensy bit self indulgent on my first post bc this is my favorite thing ever. super excited to start posting more on here!

☆ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ: SFW // includes: Miles, Hobie, Miguel & Pavitr (x gn!reader) // w.c: 0.8k

ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ

Not the biggest fan of people stealing his clothes especially when everything he owns means so much to him, but when it comes to you, he’s always willing to make exceptions

He might be a bit shocked when you show up wearing the jacket he’s been tearing his room apart looking for, but he’s quick to reassure you that you can keep it and even wants you to take it

It’s different when it comes to you, he knows it comes from a place of love. You adore him so much that you want at least something of his to keep with you, especially with how busy his schedule tends to be

It’s not a one way agreement though, he most definitely returns the sentiment by taking something of yours. He likes having something that reminds him of you, it makes him feel safer sometimes

Will completely deny that it’s yours whenever you point it out, but his smile is giving him away as you chase him around trying to reclaim your jacket.

“Miles, is that my jacket?” “No? I bought this.” “It’s literally my jacket.” “Okay, then why does it fit me so well? Might as well be mine” “Miles…”

Goes clothes shopping but keeps you in mind while buying stuff

ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ

Always so quick to compliment how something of his looks on you, He can’t help but be such a flirt and it’s a nice surprise to see something he loves on someone he loves, he has to make sure you know how good you look 

When it comes to things such as his battle vest, he offers to make you one or at least teach you but you stubbornly only take his which he teases you for plenty because you can’t seem to get enough of him

Since you both seem to be sharing it anyways, he’ll let you add on pins or patches that you like. He also never complains if you accidentally tear it because it’s just an excuse to add another patch

When he takes your clothes he’s very loud and proud about it, walking around shamelessly in something you own. (“Don’t I look good? Almost looks better on me, don’t you think love?)

Claims that your clothes are much more comfortable than his but he’s not one to ever care about buying new things so he definitely takes advantage of anything you may have just bought

He’s very careful with your clothes, it’s almost a miracle how he never gets anything (dirt, makeup, blood, etc.) on it. For someone so punk he's so stubborn with keeping your things clean & undamaged

ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ'ʜᴀʀᴀ

He’s tricky, he’ll be a bit annoyed if it’s anything he needs at the moment but doesn’t complain if it’s anything else. He might make a comment about making sure not to ruin it but with the way he’s looking at you all day, you know he’s all bark and no bite

Flips some possessive switch on in his head and suddenly he’s looking at you like you’re some meal, he gets a lot more touchy when he sees you in something of his but won’t admit it

Even when he asks you to give it back to him by the end of the day, he never pesters you about it again, too busy staring at how good you look

Very, very rarely will ever take anything that’s yours. Half of the time it’s on accident when he’s trying to find something of his in the dark bedroom, and it’s even harder to get him to admit that it’s yours

He’s too scared he’ll ruin something of yours if he gets into a fight, especially since you take such good care of what you steal from him. He’d rather accept small things like bracelets or rings to wear

Make him one of those friendship bracelets and he’ll wear it till it falls apart

ᴘᴀᴠɪᴛʀ ᴘʀᴀʙʜᴀᴋᴀʀ

Will completely gush for hours about how good you look in anything of his. He feels so honored that you chose something of his to wear, especially if it makes you feel comfortable

He just can’t get over it, he’s such a hopeless romantic and you wearing his clothes is automatically so romantic to him. He’s also super quick to offer up something of his if you ever need it

It always smells so good, he takes super good care of his belongings and has a very distinct cologne he wears that rubs off on everything he wears. Also his clothes are super soft, overall they’re very comfortable

He’s not one to take anything without asking, he could be freezing to death and still make sure with you that it’s okay for him to take a jacket. He’s very big on respecting others’ belongings

Wears your jacket with him on patrol sometimes, much like Miles he finds it comforting to have something from you while he’s patrolling, especially on taxing days

Washes and folds everything before returning it to you because he’s just an absolute sweetheart. He’ll let you keep anything of his for as long as you want, he’s not one to complain

[harunayuuka2060]

Azul: *has invited MC to Mostro Lounge to experience the service firsthand and provide feedback*

Azul: *a bit nervous*

MC: *is enjoying the food at a leisurely pace*

Azul: ...

Azul: Your Majesty?

MC: *pauses, then smiles at him* Yes?

Azul: Is there anything you would like to say about the food?

MC: Must I provide a verbal assessment? I assumed my expression conveyed everything.

Azul: You do seem to enjoy every bite...

Azul: ...

Azul: You're not picky, aren't you, Your Majesty?

MC: Are you suggesting that I have a poor palate? *amused*

Azul: I wouldn't dare! That would be a great offense to Their Majesty.

MC: *chuckles* You’re being too courteous, Sir Azul.

MC: You’re welcome to speak casually with me.

Azul: ...

Azul: But-

MC: It's an order.

Azul: ...

Azul: I see that Their Majesty knows how to use their superiority.

MC: It’s an innate ability of mine.

Azul: ...

Azul: Pft- Royals are indeed arrogant.

MC: I cannot contest that. *while still smiling*

Floyd: Oi, Jade. How long is Azul gonna stay inside with that third year?

Jade: It's an important guest, so I assume Azul will need to entertain them for as long as they desire.

Floyd: Eh...

Jade and Floyd: *began hearing faint laughter coming from the room*

Floyd: *pouts* They seem to be having fun. I want to join.

Jade: You can't.

Floyd: You made me cook a lot of dishes! I'll do what I want! *kicks the door open*

Floyd: Hey, Azul! Let me join in the fun-

MC and Azul: ...

MC and Azul: *were floating in the air while dancing when Floyd interrupted them*

Floyd: ...

Floyd: Oh. I didn't know you were in the middle of a date, Azul.

Azul: This is not a date, you moron-

MC: Oh, was it not?

Azul: ...

Azul: Senpai-

Floyd: Jade! Come here! Azul is having a sweet moment!

Azul: No!

MC: *chuckles*

Leona: *glaring at MC*

MC: You’ll make me melt with your gaze, kitten.

Leona: Ha! Maybe it's your crippling conscience.

MC: ...

MC: *gently holds his hand*

Leona: ...

Leona: *clears throat*

Leona: Don't dance with some other punk.

MC: If I were to do that, might you finally deign to accept my request for a dance?

Leona: ...

MC: *smiling*

Leona: I would, but I'm not your boyfriend now, so... *smirks*

MC: *chuckles* *knows that Leona hates the idea of stepping on their feet*

MC: I’ll come up with something that will persuade you to dance with me.

Leona: *snorts*

[rexlroze]

ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ

𝐻𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑒 𝐵𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑥 𝐺𝑁!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 912

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You like testing Hobie's limits just to see how far he would go for you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Fluff, Oneshot, kinda mean Hobie? Swearing, pet names, Mention of blood, cigarettes.

A/N: I was so giddy while writing this. Also, didn't test read so um... Bone apple teeth!! 🫶 @the-kr8tor, @hobieszeze if wanna have a read:3

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

The wind whipped through your hair, strands caught in the strong breeze of midnight as you stare at the dark sky, glittering with sparkling stars.

Three months since Hobie told you his secret identity. He didn't plan on it but it's hard not to when he was bleeding out on your carpet, desperate for any sort of help.

You say you were more mad about him staining your new carpet then you were about him dying but he knows better.

Anyhow, in spite of the fact that you did admire Spider-Punk, knowing how many people he saved, how he fought against corruption, and the good he does in general, it's less admirable when you know it's your boyfriend. Not that you think what he does is bad suddenly, it's more so he gets injured too often. At least now you have an explanation to why he sometimes comes home black and blue. You're surprised you didn't put two and two together sooner, maybe you did but just didn't want to admit it to yourself.

Despite that, it has its privileges.

“This is a pretty tall building.” You note, standing at the edge so you could see the distance between you and the ground. You estimate that you were at least three hundred feet in the air.

Glancing back at Hobie who was without his mask, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed next to a rusting metal door that led downstairs.

“That's why it got the best view, love.” He shrugged.

He wasn't joking, it was breathtaking. The myriad pinprick of light emitting from the city below, representing the countless individuals living their lives, clueless of you as they were too busy with their own lives.

“It calms me down when my thoughts get too loud. Or when I'm too fucked up to come home.” You heard Hobie who was now beside you. He brought you to his safe haven. Because he trusted you. The thought made you embarrassingly mushy.

You looked back at him, noting the sharp cut of his jaw, the highlight of his cheekbone as if he was cut up by a sculptor, making you want to trace it with your fingers. His silver piercings glinted where the moonlight shined down on the both of you, it made his skin glow in a way that was angelic. God-sent some might even say. You wondered if that was his actual secret and that the radioactive spider biting him was just some silly cover-up.

You were quickly distracted as you watched him pull out a box of cigarettes and a lighter, placing it between his full lips, taking the first puff before offering it to you.

You take it, inhaling a small puff too, before coughing it out. Hobie chuckled beside you.

“Y'know, you have to inhale.” You rolled your eyes, turning your gaze back to the view in front of you.

“What if I jump off?” You suddenly suggested, eyes glinting with mischief as you peeked back up at Hobie who raised a perfect eyebrow. “What if I push you off?” He retorted. “Don't say stupid shit.” He clicked his tongue, taking another puff.

“Would you catch me?” You pushed for a reaction. “Nah. Too much work.” He shrugged, turning away to gaze at the city. “It's not like you would–” He stopped when he turned back, seeing you weren't there anymore.

His eyes widened with panic, rushing over to the edge to see you free falling.

“Bloody hell, I'm in love with a nutter.” He grumbled, throwing his cigarette on the ground and squashing it under his boot then quickly jumping in after you. The wind smacks him in the face as he dove in face first, his arms reaching out for you as you gave him one of your crooked grins, happy to prove your point. Idiot.

He didn't like how fast they were going, his heart beating against his chest threatening to break his ribs and escape. Scattered visions of what could happen flash lest you reach the ground only making him more desperate to catch you.

He pushes forward, inching closer. His fingers brushes against yours but you slip further away. He grunts in frustration.

He jerked his wrist forward, shooting a rope made of silk out that attached to your stomach then stuck himself to the glass of the building, sliding down from through friction but eventually stopping, bringing your fall to a halt.

He glanced back down at you then began pulling you up slowly with the help of the rope attached to you until you were safely back in arms, pushing your head down onto his chest, finally allowing him to breathe.

You were safe. You were alive. He reminded himself, again and again until it was lasered into his brain, squeezing you to make sure you wouldn't slip out of his grip again.

He heard you chuckle in his ear, narrowing his eyes at you, pulling away from the hug when he realized he was basically squeezing the life out of you.

“You're a bloody wanker. Do that again and 'm breaking up with you.” He grumbled, one hand around your waist keeping you close while the other stuck to the wall.

“Awh, you love me.” You cooed, teasingly. Your arms wrapped around his neck. “I'm sorry.” You mumbled. Not really but you felt bad for scaring him.

“I despise you.”

But he knew he'd do it a million times over.

Banners by @/cafekitsune

[fanaticsnail]

Oh snail, i know you already have a long list of WIPs (i can't wait to read them) and your Inbox is probably already full with requests, so i understand if its not in the cards right now.

I was just wondering what the kid-pirates would do, or how they would react if ther precious doc-reader is the one that was injured badly or was very sick. Especialy how Killer would react after that romantic tention between them (i need more of that 😩). I don't have a particular song in mind, because the seires already has a vibe to it, hope thats okay.

I wish you a wonderful day/night/evening! 💕Sooo looking forward to your next work, whatever it may be 🐢

I love you for this prompt, @daydreamer-in-training. Thank you!

Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?

Hey Doc Masterlist here

Word Count: 2,000+

Synopsis: You've taken care of your crew and nursed them back to health from their flus... but now it's your turn. The Kid-Pirates do their best to take care of the worlds worst patient, their doctor: you.

Themes: platonic!kid-pirates, eustass kid x gn!reader, swearing, illness, comforting, taking medication, kid is a bit of a dom, doc is a bit of a bra, you're the kid-pirate doctor: the crew calls you 'doc'.

Notes: I am currently struggling with the flu myself, and this was simply too cute to not write about. Thank you for your ask, it's been fun to write about!

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Hey, Doc? Did we need any more petroleum jelly from the-...?” the fire breather called beside you, hating when you turned to face him, “...-Shit, Doc. You look like absolute balls today.” 

Rolling your swollen, glassy and red eyes at him, you draw another tissue from your counter and sneeze into it. The silky tissue felt like sandpaper over your leaky nose, the skin splitting surrounding your nostrils and leaving small stains of red on the pale paper.

“Always so full of compliments and kindness, Heat,” you huff out, your voice sounding hoarse and cracking along with every word. Heat cringed, recoiling away from you with eyes narrowed in sympathy. You attempt to breathe through your blocked nose, no air passing through the dual nostrils.

Treating the crew for the past two weeks, and nursing them to health in recovering from the flu, had finally caught up with you. You felt both cold and hot at the same time, your skin both dry and sticky with sweat. Mind swelling and cracking behind the tense throbbing throughout your brain caused a dull ache ringing in your ears and fogging your mind.

“I-... I’m just saying, Doc,” he reiterated in defense of himself, “You don’t look too good. Maybe you ought to sit out from the in-land trip to restock. Stay home on the Victoria Punk?” Heat suggested with a soft smile and a subtle shrug.

“What?” you grunted out a cough, “And leave you lot to restock my clinic for me? Not fucking like-...” coughing into another tissue, your glassy eyes pricked at the corners and began to spill out and down your cheeks, “...-likely.” 

Heat’s smile fled from his face, his lip downturning in sympathy. He shook his head and extended his hand out to you, gesturing you to follow him out through the door towards the deck. You attempt to sniff back another intake of air to reopen your nose to no avail. Following on, you trudge somberly towards the top deck where the crew were all waiting to step foot onto the pier. 

Without drawing attention to yourself, your eyes squinted lazily to compensate for the pain the sun caused your mind. With each achy step, you attempted to bite back the ache your body was going through. Barely aware of your surroundings, you gesture in the medicinal remedy booths at town square for herbs, ointments and aromatic fragrances. 

As you reached into your pocket to pull out your small folder of Berry, a large right forearm reached over your shoulder and paid the vendor before you could. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at the scowling grimace of your captain, Eustass Kid, baring his rage down at you. Attempting to roll your eyes at him again, you clenched them tightly shut instead as the world became far too bright to process.

“Captain,” you acknowledge him with a clumsy nod, fighting the urge to not to fall over with the vertigo overcoming you. He growled at you immediately, gesturing to Wire beside him to gather the supplies and walk back to the ship. 

“You’re a real fuckin’ idiot, aren’t ya, Doc?” he spat, scolding you with his heavy growl. You laughed at him, shaking your swirling head and beginning to walk beside him. Your overexertion and sleep deprivation caught up with you as you tripped over an uneven divot in the rocky path.

“I'm not into degradation, Cap,” you respond in a half-joking hum, your eyes feeling heavy and weighted, “Not my kink. Might be yours, though, considering the amount of times I yell at you to hold you accountable.” That comment earnt you another low growl from your captain, his face turning a few shades darker than his hair. 

He turned to face you at his side, his lips curling as if to speak. As he opened his lips, he was lost for words as you fell into him, bracing yourself against him to steady your walk. He caught you in his right arm, bringing his face down towards you and brows knitting with concern. Turning towards Wire, he cocked his chin to the side to usher him on towards the ship. 

With no further warning, Kid dipped at the knees and hoisted you up into his chest beneath your thighs. He curled his bicep and hooked your head beneath his chin and cradled you firmly into him. Under usual circumstances, you would’ve fought this tooth and nail.

You do not enjoy being manhandled by the crew, especially by your captain. While you enjoy the embrace once in a while with your more sensitive crewmates, particularly Bubblegum, the Captain has only ever been this close to you when he’s sparring with you.

“C’mon Doc, I'll get you seen to,” he grunted down at your position curled into his chest, “I’ve-... And the-...” his words trailed off, the fever raising your temperature higher and prompting you to seek out sleep against his pectoral. 

Voices and words fade in and out of your ears, a slow drawl and murmurs of several of your crewmates swelling around your assumed resting spot for the day. The room wasn’t physically moving, even though your vertigo suggested it was. 

“When was the last time Doc’s had a day off?” you recognised the feminine voice of Quincy in the room beside you. Several grunts and incessant babbling reverberated around the room, prompting you to flutter your eyelashes open and push through the pain. 

“Doc!” you cringed as a body almost flew into your bed, sitting on the plush sheets beside you, “You’re awake! I’m so happy to see you’re up!” You wince, slowly waving Bubblegum away, swatting at his zig-zagged head.

“Off, off,” you shooed him, wincing as you shrugged your duvet off your thighs and swung your legs over the side of the bed. As you began to wobble to your feet, the booming voice of your captain called over the chatter of the room,

“Sit your ass down, would ya, Doc?” he growled, striding over in intentional steps and giving you a shove from his right hand in the middle of your chest, “The medics here said you need a week in bed to rest. Sit down.” You growled at him, doing your best to gather the strength to growl at him. 

“If I’ve been prescribed ‘rest’,” you began, gesturing to the crewmates surrounding your current room, “Why the fuck are you all here?” Several sheepish mutters surround the room, a few members pinching the scruffs of their necks, a few more wringing their hands in front of their waists. 

Your captain clapped his hand on your shoulder, pushing you to lay back down and wrangling you into your bedsheets. Refusing to go down without a fight this time, you wriggled in his grip and fought both the fever and the strong arm of your captain. 

“For fucks sake, Doc!” Kid yelled at you, pushing and shoving you down into the very comfortable and unfamiliar bed in front of the crew. “Just lay down and rest, damn it! Go back to sleep.” You wriggled harder. 

“No!” you yelled defiantly, kicking off the duvet and fighting each and every time your captain attempted to shove you into your bed. Kid looked around to the crew, angled his chin sharply to wordlessly order them to leave the room. As they left, Kid turned back towards you and crawled up onto the bed. 

“You are more of a pain in the ass than that fucking bullet to the buttcheek,” he growled, climbing over you and baring down his weight onto your smaller frame. Straddling your thighs, he placed his knees on your open palms and successfully pinned you beneath him. He pressed his forearm over your chest and gave you a firm shove to force you to lay down. You had no choice but to thump your head back into the plush pillow behind your head. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you clench your jaw and growl behind your lips. The rumble in your throat hurt the raw swell in your jugular, but you pushed past it to air your frustrations at him regardless. The chuckle from your captain above you only served to propel your anger to rise higher. 

“Yeah, yeah. Growl and groan all you want,” he scoffed at you, pinning your chest with his bicep while reaching his hand between you and gathering the blankets in his fist. Slowly raising it up, he continued his place straddling your thighs until he thought you would no longer fight him. 

“Why are you doing this, Captain?” you snarl at him, finally opening your eyes to gaze up into his eyes. He smirked at you in response, pressing his palm to your forehead and clicking his tongue at the temperature. 

“Because,” he leaned over to the bedside, taking two small spherical tablets into his hand, “We love you, Doc.” He leaned back over you, gesturing with his chin for you to part your lips. You take a moment to snarl at him before complying, parting your lips and allowing him to place the bitter tablets on your tongue. 

He leaned back over to the bedside, finding a glass of water and bringing it down to your lips. Tilting the glass slowly as it brushed with your bottom lip, he carefully fed you a sip of water to take the pills with. Placing the glass back over on the table, he drew his attention to the small amount of water seeping from the corner of your lip.

“Now, be a good Doctor and get loved on, idiot,” he softly huffed, his voice low and husky as he leaned forward. He used the pad of his thumb to gently collect the spill of water from the corner of your lips. Your eyes never ceased its glare up at him. He grinned tauntingly down at you, arching his brow and ensuring you swallowed the tablets. 

“Get off, Captain,” you growled at him, bucking your hips up in an attempt to remove him from your body. He cackled his rumbled laugh down at you in response, shaking his head. 

“You gonna get up again if I do?” he asked, leaning down and caressing your cheek in a gentle stroke. His eyes held nothing but mischievous mockery, but his hand felt like it was gently coaxing you to comply with what he asked. 

“No, I’ll behave,” you snarled at him. His laugh was genuine this time, low and gentle. Slowly backing off you, he slid off your body before adjusting the sheets and smoothing them over. 

“Good,” he nodded, beginning to leave the room by the door off to the side of the room. Halting at the door, he fought with himself for a moment before looking at you over his shoulder and uttering, “I’ll-… I’ll get Kil to check on you in a few hours. Get some rest, okay?”

What he said next was something you weren’t expecting to come from his lips. In all the time you served with him, he only ever called you ‘Doc’, or ‘Doctor.’ You were your title, and you appreciated that about the crew. You were Doc, only ever Doc. But what he said changed all that.

After he uttered the word “okay,” it was immediately followed by your name. Waiting a few moments, you responded in a cadence just above a whisper. 

“I’ll be right where you left me, Kid,” you replied with a soft smile back at him. He closed his eyes, offering you a reflection of your smile in return before it grew back into its usual mischievous face. 

“Good,” he again offered you, scrunching his nose up at you and looking up through his red eyelashes at you, “Otherwise I would’ve gotten your doting daddy to come coddle his whiny baby.” Your eyes went wide, your jaw clenching and your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. 

Eustass Kid just laughed in response, exiting the room and giving you both the time and space you needed to recover. Your recovery was not only the flu, but of the second hand embarrassment that Killer must’ve relayed to Kid what he’d said to you in the consultation room. Either that, or you left the shell of your Den-Den accidentally activated from when you spoke with your captain earlier in the day.

Either way, you pouted as you did as you were told and huffed back into your bed and went to sleep: the paracetamol activating and stilling your swelling head and masking the undertones of pain in your body.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

could u maybe make a murder time trio(separate if possible) with a goth reader? if not that’s ok:)

Traveler I don't know who you are but I was thinking about writing some skelies with goth reader for some good time now, so thank you for this request 🙏🏼🙏🏼 Also, I added out Nightmare because I can <3

Featuring: Dust, Killer, Nightmare and Ted.

Masterlist

Killer

He finds your style... Interesting to say the least, in his words "It makes you look like the baddest bitch on the multiverse"

Definitely brags about it to the others "Ha! I have a groth partner and you don't!" "You mean goth?" "That's what I said idiot"

Finds Cyber goth and Punk goth the coolest styles, but let's say the truth, it doesn't really matter what substyle you wear, your clothes are all over the floor in the night anyways.

He can and will make flirts involving your dark aesthetic, especially if you're vampire goth.

"Hey sweetheart are you a bat? Because you can come bite my body any time~" "Killer we're in the middle of hiding a body what the fuck"

Ted

Your style helps him remember you, it's so different, so distinct from the norm that it makes his mind recognize you from maybe miles away.

Ted finds some of the songs pretty relaxing, it's one of the rare types of music that doesn't hurt his "brain".

People are scared when you both go anywhere.

Though he kinda likes it, no one can bother you when they think you're a freak.

Loves seeing you get ready, especially if you're traditional goth, he could stare forever, seeing you carefully putting eyeshadow on makes him feel so calm.. it makes his day 10 times better for no reason.

He'd make cookies of you, for no apparent reason, and then give them to you.

Dust

He fucking adores you.

Whatever you say he does, no questions, he just does.

Let him do your makeup. Pretty please?

Loves every goth substyle, but steampunk and vampire goth hold a special place on his soul.

Dust actually really loves fashion, and yes he will choose clothes for you when you don't know what to wear, and trust me, you end up looking fabulous.

Wastes all his money on you, skirts, boots, pants, anything you like he buys you, even if he had been in debt once for buying too much.

Nightmare

Oh my, he's actually head over heels.

This hoe's rich alright? It does not matter how expensive the prices may add up, it does not matter how many clothes you want, he's buying it, it's not like he'd run out of money anyway.

He likes the music, it's one of his favorite types actually - but he still prefers his classic music, "no offense darling.. classic is just better."

And if you're traditional/romantic/Victorian goth?? Lie down on the bed because he can't control himself anymore sweetheart - and he's making sure you aren't walking for some good time.

You're married to him, so you're now also ruler of his kingdom, and your style fits perfectly with the gloomy vibe of his realm.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Cancun Trip (Popstar!Fem!Reader x Bodyguard!Punk!Miguel O’Hara)

Hi hi:3 I’m alive (kinda lol) this is a fun little thing I was thinking of lol enjoy! Not proofread.

SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Drinking, cursing,, biting, unprotected PinV (wrap it up people!) Fingering with ringers, Miguel had some interesting piercings :)tispy fucking, dirty talk (???), enjoy :3

Word count: 3k

Playlist AU Masterlist

—

Post-tour vacations were always your favorite thing, no dance practices, no boring meetings and most importantly, no manager to stop you from partying all night. And although Miguel was still technically on the clock, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t treat this as a vacation of his own.

That’s how you ended up with your heels in hand, trying to not stumble as you and Miguel drunkenly giggled on the walk back from the club at three in the morning.

“Come on princess, let me carry you, you’re gonna get cut on something.” Miguel mumbled, hands going to rest gently on the small of your back.

“I’m fine, I’m walking on sand.” You giggled, stumbling slightly as you looked back at him. Not phased when he moves his hand down slightly to wrap around your hip.

“Sand won’t stop you from getting cut from a beer bottle.” He pointed out.

“I can see the hotel from right here, it’s fine-Oh my god! Miguel put me down!” You clenched your heels against your chest as you were suddenly lifted off the ground bridal style.

“Not happening.” He smirked with a laugh, but you knew better than to fight against him, mostly because you’d end up failing. So you ended up just giggling the whole way to your shared suite. Where he finally put you down once you were both inside.

“Why did we come back here again ? I'm not tired.” You asked as you tossed your heels in some random corner, before making your way over to the kitchenette.

“You were complaining about your feet.” He reminded you, taking off his own shoes and his leather jacket. Draping it on a chair as he followed you.

“Oh yeah,” you hummed, opening the fridge door, looking around as you rummaged through the contents inside. “You want a buzzball ooor… a fourloko?”

“Fourloko.” He answered, making your nose scrunched while pulling out a can and a small buzzball for yourself. Handing him your drink first so he can open it since you already knew that due to your nails and the fact you were already slightly impaired that you wouldn’t be able to open without struggling for five minutes first.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit.” You mutter after switching drinks, trying not to cringe as you sipped on the strawberry liquor. “I thought I was going to die of alcohol poisoning when I drank one of those.”

“Princess, I’m over six feet and three hundred pounds, I can handle a fourloko. Small little thing like you though…” His voice dropped an octave as he went to sip his own drink, oblivious to the way his tone change seemed to stir something in your stomach. Mind slightly too hazy to see the way you took a bigger sip the second time around. “You should stick to that buzzball.”

His jab made your brows furrowed slightly. Annoyance quickly replacing the mysterious feeling before, as you decided to make yourself comfortable on the wooden kitchen floor. Not caring about the way your dress rode up your thighs when you crossed your legs. Instantly going to grab Miguel’s can and taking a sip when he placed it on the ground to join you on the ground. Regretting the decision after the first gulp, making you recoil at the taste as you put the can back down next to Miguel.

“Give me that.” He smirked playfully as he grabbed the can before it was even fully on the floor. Raising it towards his lips before leaning forward to speak again. “If you want to swap spit just say so, sweetheart.”

“You’re so weird.” You muttered in annoyance as you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m surprised that your eyes haven’t gotten stuck in the back of your skull yet.”

“If you have the hots for me just say so.” You mimicked his words in a deadpan tone, tilting your head back to take another gulp.

“Oh please,” Miguel couldn’t resist the scoff that escaped his lips from your words. “Hate to break it to you princess, but you’re not exactly my type.”

“Not your type!? I'm everybody’s type.” Despite your attempt to deliver your words with offense and attitude, you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched upwards as you tried not to babble into another fit of drunken giggles.

“Believe it or not, spoiled little brats isn’t everybody’s type.” He smirked as he watched you move the little empty plastic ball to the side. Not missing the way your eyes immediately fall on his half full can. His hand immediately going to push it behind his back. “Oh no you don’t-“

“Just another sip, I don’t wanna get up!” Your pleas cut him off, immediately moving to your knees to scoot closer to him. Laughter began to fill the room as you attempted to reach for the can as he held it away from you, never noticing the way you had practically crawled on top of him. Barely registering the way his hand does to your hip in an attempt to help steady you. Your giggles only dying down when your eyes move away from the can, finally noticing how you two practically were touching noses.

Heat sinked into your lower stomach as you both gazed into each other’s hazy eyes, Miguel’s hand subconsciously tightened lightly on your hip, making your lips part ever so slightly as a silent gasp left between them. You wanted to say something to ease the weird sudden tension that filled the room, but your throat felt so dry that you couldn’t get anything out of them. The way his eyes looked at you alcohol made your head feel more fuzzier than it did at the club. You were feeling so dizzy, like you were falling-no,like you were leaning- leaning forward?

“Mmm-oh-oh my god-“ You pulled back as soon as you progressed what you had done, eyes shooting widen open and your hand covering your mouth. You just kissed Miguel. You kissed your bodyguard. “Im so sorry. I-I didn’t-I don’t know why I did that-“

But your apology was cut off before you could finish it. Large hands quickly moved to your shoulders as the oxygen from your lungs got stolen with each passing second. You couldn’t help the moan you let out as you melted into the kiss, melted into him. Manicured fingers entangling themselves into the little chocolate curls on the back of his neck.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Miguel spoke between shallow breaths, his forehead resting on yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths.

“We should stop.” You agreed, voice light as you moved to straddle his waist.

“Definitely.” He muttered before pulling you back, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you let out a hiss, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue in. The warm metal of his tounge piercing making you shiver as it glides over the roof of your mouth.

“Your piercing feels so weird.” Despite not complaining, you couldn’t help but whine.

“Wait till you feel the other one…” He mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Before you could get a chance to question what he said, his mouth was on the base of your neck. The pressure of the metal ball on his neck made your breath hitch as his hands dug under the tight fabric around your thighs. Impatiently tugging at the no-show thong that you were certain was drenched by the way it was clinging to your core.

“What happened-to not being your type?” You couldn’t resist the urge to taunt his earlier words, keeping your tone as steady as you could with the way his two middle fingers began to slowly move up and down on your dripping slit.

“I’m blaming this on the alcohol.” He grumbled as he sat back, eyes dark as he focused on watching the way you attempted to wiggle yourself onto his fingers each time he passed your needy hole, applying a bit more pressure on it with each passing. His free hand went to hold your hips down to stop your squirming. “Don’t be impatient, princess.”

“You’re taking too long.” You whined.

“Ten minutes ago we weren’t making out.” He brought his gaze back up to your face, before finally entering his middle finger, making sure to go extra slow to help with any uncomfortableness you might feel from the stretching. The corner of his lips twisting upwards at the sight of your lips parting with a silent moan. “You’ll be thanking me in a few minutes for taking my time with this.”

You let out a whimper, head falling to rest on his shoulder as you attempted to get used to the sensation of his fingers inside of you. The coldness of one of his rings sending a shiver up your spine each time he bottomed out. Involuntary clenching around his finger with each graze of the metal, making Miguel’s brow furrow in annoyance.

“You need to relax sweetheart.” He muttered, leaning down slightly to place a light kiss on your hairline in a half-hearted attempt to help you calm down.

“I’m trying…” Any attitude you attempt to spit out from your tone was lost the second it left your mouth. “Rings feel weird…” You added as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the building heat in your lower stomach and the slow pumping from his fingers.

“Did you want me to take them off?” Miguel asked, having to tear his gaze from your cunt, your sudden silence not pleasing him one bit. ”Did you want me to take off the rings?” He repeated, eyes boring into you as you squirmed against him.

“Mm…” You hummed as you shook your head, Miguel couldn’t help but smirk slightly at your actions.

“Use your words.” He said, slowing down slightly just to mess with you.

“No, no, I don’t want the rings off.” You finally spat out, shaking your head a bit more frantically than before.

“Nasty little thing.” He cooed, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he focused back down on his hand. Pumping his finger in and out a few more times, pausing to insert his ring finger before continuing his previous pace.

“Oh shit….” You hiss under your breath, your shaky hands finding purchase on Miguel’s bicep, burying your face deeper into the crook of his neck. The building in your lower stomach getting ready to snap. “Shit, I’m close… Miggy I’m so close-“

“Come on princess, cum for me.” His growl, dropped an octave with the command, his fingers curling slightly to better hit that perfect soft. “Wanna feel that pretty pussy finish around my fingers.”

His words pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling shut as you bite down on him in order to muffle your moans. Making him let out a hiss as he slows his pace, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“Did so good.” He praised lowly , pulling his fingers out slowly. Eyes darkened slightly as he saw a thin string of your slick connect you both still, pulling till it broke.

“Felt so good.” You replied, still coming down, as you moved from his lap to his lower thighs, surely leaving a wet spot on his jeans. “Need more.”

“Impatient, are we princess?” He teased, his hand moving to undo his belt, but were quickly pushed away by yours, wanting him to speed up.

“Shut up.” You huffed, hands fidgeting to undo the metal. “I haven’t had any action since the show in San Francisco, I’m a bit desperate here.”

“Wow, the (Y/N). Desperate. I thought I'd never see the day.” He teased, leaning back slightly. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d never think he’d see it, the way your eyes were glossed over, looking at his covered bulge like it could solve all your problems, the way your hands were trembling slightly as you unbuttoned his jeans. You’re hair messy and disheveled, your lipgloss halfway gone, the only proof of it even existing in the first place was the strawberry taste it left on his own lips.

His usual well-kept, semi well behaved pop star was now acting like a college student who was finally losing her virginity in some random room at a frat party. He had never seen you desperate before, he wanted to make sure he committed the view to memory.

So needy, so desperate, and only for him.

He couldn’t help the way he twitched under your hand as you rubbed his clothed length.

“It feels big.” You admit, eyes not lifting to see the smirk that formed on Miguel’s lips.

“Ima big guy princess,” He murmured with a head tilt, “why’d you think I took the time to help you warm up?”

“You’re so cocky.”

“Funny coming from you.”

“Shush.” You huffed, finally dipping your fingers under his waistband, the heat radiating from him almost enough to make you break out in a sweat as you began to wrap your smaller fingers around the base of his cock-

“OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK!?” You exclaimed, quickly pulling your hand away, accidentally pulling his underwear down in the process. Causing your wide eyes to land on where your hand had just been. You blinked in disbelief as you tried to process the sight in front of you.

The eight inches of length by itself would already be enough of a challenge for you on its own, what was really making your stomach turn slightly was the metal bars that lined the underside of his shaft, about an inch or so of separation between each bar, each bar having a small ball at the end on either side.

“I’m not putting that in me.” You stated with complete seriousness, Miguel couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “When did you even get that done?” You asked, moving closer to get a better look.

“College.” He shrugged.

“You’re insane.” Your eyes moved up to meet his, unbothered by the cheeky little smirk he wasn’t attempting to hide. Not fighting when his hand moves to the small of your back to pull you closer again.

“It’s not that bad.” He reassures, “Most of the girls I’ve been with either don’t feel it, or they actually enjoy it.” Yet the way your brows furrowed together and the nervous hum that left your throat was a clear indication that you were inconvenienced.

“I mean…it’s kinda cool… I’ve never done it with anyone with a…” You trailed off, looking at him through your lashes as you waited for him to finish the rest for you.

“Jacob's ladder.”

“Jacob’s ladderrrr…” You drew out the words as you nodded, then biting your lips as you thought about it. “Okay…” you sighed, “but if it hurts we’re stopping.”

“Deal.” Miguel agrees, before pulling you until you were hovering over his member. Your hands go to rest on his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself as you begin to slowly lower yourself down.

Oh.

Oh.

“Ohh…that feels…” Amazing? Ethereal? Heavenly? You can’t even finish your sentence, “fuck.”

“You like it?” Miguel asked, already knowing the answer from the way your eyes rolled back and your jaw went slack the second you landed on his thighs.

“Mhm…” You bit your lip as you nodded, wanting nothing more than to just start bouncing, but you knew you’d had to allow yourself to adjust to his girth or the soreness he’d leave between your legs would be much worse tomorrow morning.

After a few moments, you finally began to move up, stopping just below the tip before lowering back down. Your whimpers becoming more desperate and vocal with each moment.

“Shit… so tight…” He murmured, head falling back as his hands left your hips, placing them on the floor instead to help stabilize himself before thrusting his hips upwards, making you moan out his name. Groaning at the way you squeezed around him.

“Miguel…” You whined, nails digging into his shoulders. If he wasn’t still wearing his shirt, he’d be certain you’d be drawing blood, or at least leave imprints to match that note mark you left him.

“I know baby, I know…” He dipped his head to whisper against your ear. “Fuck, feel so good… how am I supposed to watch you dance around in those fluffy little dresses on stage now and not think of this, huh?” You didn’t answer, more you couldn’t. Too cockdrunk to properly think.

It was all too much, your body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. Heart pounding in your ears like it did when you finish a show, only this was so much better. Fingers tighten their grip on him as you felt the heat building the second time around, faster than the first time.

“Miggy…Ima-ima cum again..” You babble as you begin to bounce a bit quicker, making Miguel moan lowly.

“Where do you want me to finish?” He asked, knowing once you finished he won’t be far behind himself.

“Inside!” You exclaimed, almost too quickly. “Please Please ple-“

“Princess, I don't think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to -“ He began to protest, but his hands made purchase on your hips regardless.

“I’m on birth control.” You told him, making him let out a loud huff. He didn’t want to protest any further, mostly because he knew neither of you last.

“Shit…shit…” He grunted, rutting up into a few more things, his thrust growing more and more sloppy, your moans growing more and more high pitched before he finally felt you release around him. The way you squeezed him made eyes roll back as he began to empty his seed instead of you, riding out both of your highs as his hips stutter and slow. Breaths shallow as you. Finally rolling off of him once you both came back down.

“Jesus…” Miguel huffed , moving to finally get up off the floor, his butt sore from the hard kitchen wood. Taking a moment to tuck his softening member back into his jeans before reaching his hand down towards you. “You okay?”

“Yeah just… my legs… jelly…” You take his hand, letting him pull you up from the floor as you use your free hand to fix your dress that was bunched up around your thighs, deciding to deal with your soaked panties in the morning. A beat passing before you spoke again. “We never speak of this.”

“Agree.”

—

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[innerfare]

Type of Date - Part 1

Summary: What sort of dates do they take you on?

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy: Everyone thinks he’d want to take you to dinner, probably to an all you can eat buffet, but this boy would actually drag you to an amusement/theme park. You’ll go on all the rides, riding the scariest ones multiple times over, and by the end of the day, you’ll have a stack of photos taken just before the roller coaster dropped. He’ll probably want to grab a bite to eat afterward, as if he didn’t already sample everything the amusement park had to offer; definitely something casual, like a burger or bbq joint. 

Zoro: He’ll take you to play laser tag, and don’t think for a second you’ll be playing on the same team. You’ll be on opposite teams, and he will not be going easy on you. Zoro doesn’t believe in letting people win. He’ll be briefing his team beforehand, drawing up a strategy because he is determined to win. If you beat him, he won’t propose, but he will decide he’ll be marrying you one day. Would also be content to go see an action movie. 

Sanji: This man will take you on the best picnic of your life, a picnic so good he’ll have you wondering why you ever thought restaurants were the epitome of fine dining. It won’t just be delicious, it will be an aesthetic dream, with a wicker basket, checkered blanket, and even a small bouquet of flowers in a glass jar. If he takes you on a picnic beneath the stars, he’ll light candles and be sure to have an extra blanket to keep you warm. Oh, and champagne. Definitely will open a bottle of champagne. 

Ace: Ace will take you either go karting or rock climbing, probably the former. He won’t admit it to you, not even to himself, but he is the sort to let you win, though he pouts when he loses. Like he’ll plan to beat you, but he just can’t stop himself from taking his foot off the gas just before he reaches the finish line. After you’re tuckered out, he’ll take you to a ramen place, where you end up starting several inside jokes. Once you’ve been dating for a little while, he’ll take you on longer dates to parks and even camping on the beach; anything outdoors. 

Sabo: Takes you to the aquarium or zoo, the two of you wandering around hand in hand, pointing at different animals and saying, "that's you." Also takes you on a lot of picnics (far less elaborate than the ones Sanji plans) that you spend either in silence or editing his manuscript. And he knows the lay of the land in terms of hole in the wall restaurants, quiet little nooks where you can cozy up to one another and not be disturbed. Will occasionally risk it all to take you to water parks despite being a wanted man.

Law: Museum date, full stop. Probably a science museum, but would happily do a fine art museum. If museums were open at night, it would definitely be a nighttime museum date, but he’ll settle for a weekday when nobody’s there. The two of you will lose track of time going from exhibit to exhibit discussing what’s on display. And Law is definitely the sort of guy to read up on the exhibits beforehand to impress you. Would also take you to a bookstore and buy you anything you want if you agree to sit with a coffee afterward.  

Kid: He’ll take you to a concert, best seats in the house. He would prefer rock, but he’ll go to any concert you want. Honestly has no qualms about pulling up to an Ariana Grande or Taylor Swift concert with you, won’t go so far as to learn the lyrics but will nod his head and dance with you because he doesn’t believe people should be ashamed of their music taste (that being said, he can’t help but be embarrassed by just how much he likes Olivia Rodrigo; Sour is punk rock and Brutal is his favorite song, no matter what Killer says). He’ll buy you two matching t-shirts, too. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Your First Time

Prompt: You confide to Killer that you're a virgin and want to be prepared for Kid.

NSFW

Kid X Fem Reader X Killer

You had been on the Victoria Punk for a couple weeks now, had gotten the routine of how everyone works and how everything moves. It felt comforting being some place with a consistent schedule, even if it was filled with eccentric people, you now called your friends. Although you couldn’t ignore something forever, your Captain, the one who had convinced you to come aboard by practically dragging you on, kept trying to get you alone.

         It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it, and Kid was certainly public about his intentions, slapping your ass as you walk by, pulling you on his lap if he so desires, and the make-out sessions were great. But you started to overthink on one particular night when he had a grip on your hips while he was grinding his hard on into you while biting at your neck. It wasn’t the fact that you were in front of everyone, no one seemed to care over the public display. You had felt embarrassed when a moan escaped your lips, putting a hand to your mouth while your face turned red, but Kid had grabbed your wrist grunting that he wanted to hear you.

         The real problem wasn’t the location, your head wasn’t reeling at what was happening around you. Despite being open to try things, and never denying Kid, you had always wiggled your way out of his grasp before it got any farther. Kid would clearly be annoyed, but wouldn’t push you, and it started gnawing at your mind.

         So you decided to go to Killer, the right hand man of Kid, and another conquest Kid had made clear was his. You woke up extra early, knowing no one else would be up to bother the conversation you were about to pull the first mate in too. Closing the door behind you as you hear the clinking of pots.

         Killer glances over his shoulder, “Y/N, you’re up early.” His low deep voice making your heart flutter a little bit. You sit as close to him as possible without being in his work space, watching him move about the kitchen before setting a cup of coffee and a muffin in front of you, “Any reason for this visit?” He leans against the counter, crossing his arm while peering down at you through his mask.

         You let out a noise as you try to find the words in your mind, deciding to take a sip of coffee to ignore the question for juts a couple more seconds. The hot liquid practically burning your tongue as the two of you sit in silence. Killer doesn’t pressure you, nor does he move to continue what he was doing, He waits patiently while seeing you dance the cup between your hands before you hang your head down letting a sigh out, “It’s about Kid.”

         Killer perks up at your quiet admission. Before he could ask anything, you continue, “Or rather it’s about me.” Your face turning red as he watches you stare at the steam. You brush a strand of hair behind your ear, still refusing to look at him, “I’m uh. I’m not experienced.” Your voice going to whisper at your admission.

         After a heavy silence hits you, you start to babble about how you’ve never had the chance, and that it’s embarrassing to be with someone like Kid and what if you don’t live up to what he expects. The quick rant continues until a hand slaps the table next to you, startling you to be quiet as you realize Killer looming over you. Your face red as you remember to breathe again.

         “So… You’re worried you’ll disappoint Kid?” His chest barely brushing against you as he leans lower, “And you want me to help?” The clarifying question send another round of emotions swirling around your mind.

         “Well, uh. It’s just. Kid is so quick, and rough. And it’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just. Um.” You stop for a second to gather your thoughts, “You seem more gentle.” The whisper of the last sentence leaving your mouth before you could change your mind, “Maybe could give me pointers about him.” Your thumb rubbing the rim of the cup in your hand while you stare at Killers hand resting next to yours.

         You aren’t sure what Killer is thinking as he walks away, starting to actually cook breakfast again. You start to pick at the muffin in front of you, accepting the silent refusal. The noise of others waking up and walking on deck alerting you to the time. You go to stand up, placing both hands on the table, but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

         “Meet me in the captain’s room after lunch.” The husky whisper sending a shiver down your spine, you whip your head around and before you could say anything others start to enter the room. Killer places a plate of breakfast in front of you, also setting a place for the others coming in, leaving you with your head reeling.

~~~

         You made you way through your ship, you knew Kid was in his workshop right now but it still felt weird to be going to his room. The dim corridor echoing your foot steps before stopping in front of the large door that had subtle dents and scratches in the wood. Should you knock? Should you just walk in? Before you could decide Killer opened the door, ushering you into the large room before shutting it.

         You take in your surroundings, a huge bed laid against the back wall, posts on each corner that made it seem much to fancy for who you knew Kid to be. A large desk in the corner filled with scrap metal and bookshelves full of knick-knacks and books that looked well-loved, bars in front of them, presumably to keep them in place during storms.  A rather large mirror encompassing most of a wall, just across from the side of the bed. There were two wardrobes, one shut with nothing in front of it while the other had doors ajar, clothes piled around. The room seemingly a mix between well-worn and messy, and lived in but clean.

         “Done staring there, Y/N?” Killer’s voice spooked you, when you realized he was sitting at the end of the bed, leaning back on his hands while staring at you through his mask. You mouth becoming dry as you stare at his bare chest, a happy trail of blonde hair dipping below his pants.

         You glance further down at his crotch before snapping your eyes back up towards his masked face, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. No doubt your entire face was red at this point, the tips of you ears even feeling hot as you feel rooted in your spot. “W-what if Kid comes by? This is his room won’t he-“

         “We share this room sweetness, now get over here.” Killer’s stern voice had you moving your legs underneath you. Approaching the sitting man as your nervous hands grab his shoulders, placing your knees on either side of his legs before resting on his knees. His rough hands taking a gentle hold of your waist as he shifts you closer to him. Gentle circles from his thumbs helping you relax slightly. “How do you want to do this?”

         His question shocks you a bit, your grip of his shoulders tighten a bit as you remain silent, not really knowing how to answer. “I know you’re a virgin, but I didn’t think you’d be innocent too” His silent taunting voice shook you as his hands moved to the top of your thighs, pulling at the skin slightly. His head goes closer to yours before whispering, “Do you want to be in control or do you want me to do everything?” One of his hands angling closer to your crotch, a thumb narrowly missing your core.

         You nuzzle you head into the crook of his neck, your arms wrapping around his neck, “S-show me how to do everything.” Your meek voice making him tense slightly underneath you. He seems to hesitate slightly, so you swallow your pride, “How do I make someone feel good Killer?” You whisper it in his ear, sitting up slightly to push him against the bed. Sitting on top of him as you slowly take your shirt off, grinding down enough to feel the tent in his pants.

         Killer watches you trying to be confident in your actions, the slightly clumsy movements of an attempt of seduction turning him on more than if you were actually experienced. Maybe he should have told Kid of your intentions so he could watch. Watch your timid shy self try to be what you think Kid wants, doing everything to please him and learn how to make him crazy. If Kid finds out, he’ll surely have opinions on the matter. But, in Killer’s defense, he hadn’t expected you to be so eager, he thought you wanted to be prepared, to know how it feels, before experiencing it with Kid, who was often harsh in his actions. The idea of Kid finding out of your inexperience amused him, thinking of how he would have handled the situation instead.

         Killer is brought back to his senses when he feels you tug at his pants, already on your knees while staring intently at your newest project. With a little bit of a struggle, you release Killer’s cock, it bouncing into the air before you hesitantly take hold.

         One of your hands on his bare thigh while the other gives a slight squeeze to the base. You stare at the veiny appearance as it twitches, it’s much bigger than you had expected. “If you want Kid to go insane,” The low grunt reminding you of Killer, “You should look up at him while you drool over his cock.”

         You think about his words, taking an experimental lick from the base to the tip, hearing a slight curse from above you. You move your hand up, brushing the plump tip with your thumb while letting saliva pool in your mouth.

         You open your lips, letting your tongue lull out, hovering just above Killers tip as drool slowly rides down onto his cock, you glance up to meet Killer’s eyes in an attempt to ask if what you were doing was correct. His masked face not giving you much but the curse under his breath as his hand slips onto your head is enough encouragement as you turn your attention back to the matter at hand. Slowly pursing your lips around him, the slick of your drool being spread as you bob your head down a bit.

         Killers tells you to relax your jaw, before pressing you down a bit more. You flatten your tongue against his shaft, taking in the salty flavor of sweat and precum, trying to be careful to not scrape your teeth against him. You go down a bit deeper, gagging as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming your eyes, “remember to breathe when you come up.” Killer coaching you through it all as you continue to try and take him deeper. You feel yourself getting hot, wanting to be touched yourself but also not wanting to miss any instructions as your fingers dig into his thighs, your other hand twisting and bobbing in unison with your head.

         Killer grabs your hair, tugging you off his dick as you release him with a ‘pop’, you tongue laying out of your mouth slightly as you catch your breath. He brushes some tears away from your cheeks as he tells you how good you did. He picks you up and places you on the bed, waiting for you to be ready before he removes your shorts.

         “Kid is thicker than I am, so you have to be prepared for that,” He murmurs while you let him spread your legs. Your head propped up by some pillows, one hand leaning against the head board while the other was being bitten to not let noises out so you could listen better. Your eyes half lidded, a little disappointed that you hadn’t made Killer cum before he pulled you off.

         The touches of another person’s hands on your skin, so close to your core was driving you insane. The fire building up as Killer spreads your folds apart, the cool air hitting you more before the tip of his finger teases your entrance.

         Killer knew he was fucked at this point, if Kid finds out how sweet and adorable your mewls are while learning how to please him. He mentally prepared himself for Kid’s anger later before pressing in. Watching as you happily accepted the single finger, the soft warmness welcoming the intrusion with a slight buck of your hips. He glances up to see you staring down at him, the lustful look covering you face as you bit a knuckle. Killer shifted, keeping a finger in you as he reached up to grab your wrist, “You know Kid likes listening.”

         A whine escaping your lips as you feel another finger inside you. Killer moves your hand towards your breast, and you take that as an order to knead it, playing with your nipple, pinching and squeezing in pace with Killer spreading and pumping his fingers inside you. He watches you and you can’t help but to glance away, your head turning towards the mirror. You let out another moan, seeing yourself unraveled with Killer arched above you preparing you for more. You see Killers head glance up at you before turning towards the mirror, he stops his movements entirely.

         “There’s a reason this is here,” He pulls his digits out of you entirely, a slight ache as you feel yourself pulse around nothing. He sits at the edge of the bed, facing the mirror while gesturing you to come over. You crawl over to him before he picks you up, your legs hooking over his as he leans your back against his chest and widen his own legs, making you open further in full view of yourself.

         The way you glistened slightly, the slight rub of Killers hard dick just underneath you, the glimpse of his cock in the mirror so close to your pussy making your mind go wild. The emotionless mask tilted down as both hands approach your entrance, a single finger from each hand entering you at two different angles, “Watch yourself Y/N.” The demand had your head snapping towards the mirror, watching as he slowly pumping his fingers inside you.

         The dull ache being replaced with want before he pulls your pussy open, adding another finger while you feel the sting of being stretched open. At some point your impatience gets ahead of you when you grind your hips down, feeling Killer’s hard on below you, “You aren’t prepared yet.” The hushed warning tone as he added yet another finger, the harsh pump stretching you out as you let out a moan with a single movement hitting a bundle of nerves. He warns you to behave if you don’t want to be hurt by accident as your body burns up wanting more.

         In frustration you lean up, twisting your head to bite Killers neck. Your arms going to wrap themselves around the man behind you to keep him close to your attack. The gasp that leaves Killers mask makes you light headed but you don’t let up, lapping your tongue at where your teeth was starting to break his skin. “Yea, I can tell why Kid likes you.”

         Killer was having a hard time controlling himself, he didn’t want to hurt you. And knowing how big he and Kid were, wanted to take time to properly prepare you. But your gasps and moans were thinning his patience. The grind on him making him go nearly insane, and the bite in his neck only reminding him of how Kid marks him ever so often. He thought about what he should do next, he could take you right now, finally get done the main mission of you coming to him this morning. But you were doing this to learn about Kid, to be prepared for when the domineering Captain finally got a hold of you in private.

         His thoughts were interrupted with a creek of the door, glancing up in the mirror he could see the red feathered coat. You hadn’t seemed to notice the extra person, too entranced on leaving a mark on Killers neck. Killer smirks under his mask, spreading your legs more and twisting so Kid could have a better view as to what was happening, a moan vibrating against Killers skin at the movement.

         “Y/N. Remind me, why are we doing this?” Killer’s hushed tone made you confused as you detached yourself from him, leaning your forehead against his neck as he continued to brush against your bundle of nerves.

         “W-wanna be. Good, for Kid,” Your moans and breathing making you take time to finish the sentence before glancing at the mirror with half lidded eyes.

         “Mmhmm, and why is that?” Killer’s eyes bounced from what he was doing with you to the tall man who had closed the door, locking it. No doubt, his eyes never leaving the scene before him. Killer couldn’t help but want to see Kid’s reaction.

         Kid watched from his position as Killer and you were having fun. You hadn’t even slept with Kid yet and here he’s finding you playing Killer. His anger was replaced by curiosity when he saw Killer adjust with you in his lap. The words spilling out of your mouth as your naked body was flushed and wide open like an invitation, Killer clearly stretching you wide with soft pants coming from you. Kid already more than pleased with your answer.

         He’d certainly have to show Killer who was in charge later, but for now he couldn’t stop watching as your head turned to face the mirror, although you seemed to out of it to realize he was there, Kid starting to palm himself through his pants while watching you stare at yourself in the mirror. The confusion clear in your face from Killers second question before your face turned a darker shade of red, “Cause it’s my first time.” The low whisper sending Kid crazy, you were still to focused on watching yourself react to see anything else in the room.

         Kid walks over to the bed, gripping your hair and twisting your head towards him, the moan that escapes your lips sending him to another planet before you realize who you’re looking at. “Our little mouse’s first time?” The devious smile playing on his lips as he watches your wide eyes stare up at him. Kid glances towards Killer, who had stopped fingering in in favor of wrapping his hands under your thighs, lifting them up and holding them in place for Kid to view.

         “K-Kid-“ You stutter out, more embarrassed at being so exposed, you wiggle to try and get free only for Killer’s grip to become tighter, Kid moving his hand to your chin, squishing your mouth open.

         “And what have the two of you done so far?” His tone dipping down as his other hand meets your warmth, you involuntarily buck your hips towards his touch with a low moan, “Seems like your needy cunt is more than ready.”

         You feel Killer’s dick twitch beneath you while Kid shoves a finger into you, taking your lips in his, shoving his tongue down your throat. You move your arms around Kid’s neck, pulling him closer as he presses you further into Killer’s embrace. When you start feeling light head he leans back, looking between the two of you before pulling a chair closer, undressing as he sits down in front of you. Killer adjusts his legs a bit, as though expecting what Kid is about to say, “Show me what else you were going to do. Make her cry.”

         You let out a small squeal at the demand you’ve just heard as Killer reaches one of his hands down to direct his dick to your entrance. Letting your leg go slack before holding it up again. The hard stare of Kid, who had started to stroke himself, was only added to the pleasure as you felt Killer’s tip nestled in your entrance.

         You roll your hips downwards, gasping at the sudden intrusion you had be longing for. Killer grunts, finally letting himself sink into you. You groan at the sting of being stretched, eyes squeezing shut the deeper he goes into you. The mixture of pleasure and pain flooding your brain the more you're filled. Kid leans forward, placing a hand on Killers knee as he watches you squirm and moan.

         Killer leans down closer to you and you take the opportunity to nuzzle your face into him, twisting uncomfortable as he starts to fuck up into you at a steady pace. Your hand reaches down, feeling the tight sensation of being fucken into, your fingers dipping down around Killers cock to feel how you’ve stretched around him.

         The tight sting becomes pleasure soon enough as you yell his name, finally gathering the courage to open your eyes again. You stare down to see Kid massaging Killers thighs, the fast motions making it hard for you to focus. All of a sudden you feel a gentle kiss on the inside of your thigh, a tongue moving over Killers fingers settling closer to the action. You look back down to see Kid peppering your thigh in small kisses before he bites down hard. A scream erupting from your throat, the sensitive skin being overwhelmed with pleasure more than pain.

         Killer lets out grunts behind you, his head resting on your shoulder as he continues to fuck you senseless as Kid finds another patch of skin to bite. Soon enough your body littered with bruising bites, some leaking blood as you hold onto Kid, moaning both the men’s names without reason other than you wanted more.

         “Let her down,” The whisper erupting from Kid causes Killer to gently place your thighs down, blood slowly running through your legs again as Killers dick kisses your cervix with the new found gravity pulling you down. You cry out, gripping Kids shoulder, falling forward slightly. Kid’s head goes behind you, his shoulder right in front of you for you to sink your teeth into as you hear Killer let out a throaty moan. A glance in the mirror shows you the Kid has latched himself onto the blonde man, the opposite side from where you had bitten him.

         Kids dick brushes against your stomach, the rigorous movements still making your mind numb as you reach down. You hesitate when you realize just how thick Kid is. Both your hands meeting to fully wrap around him as you start to squeeze and pump. The hearty groan you hear from Kid causing a shiver down your spine as he thrusts into your touch.

         You feel a bundle in your stomach starting to unravel as time continues. Biting harder into Kid’s shoulder as it comes undone, tasting the sweaty copper the enters your mouth as Kid hisses. Killer gripping your hips before lifting you off him with just enough time to cum on your stomach. You can feel Killer breathing heavy behind you as Kid continues to thrusts into your hands, “Cumming without me now?” His words feign hurt as he pushes Killer to lay on the bed, you laying on top of him before Kid climbs, pumping his cock inches away from your face.

         Killer wraps his arms around you in a comforting manner as you decide to open your mouth, letting your tongue hang out in preparation for what was to cum. Kid smiles down at you before placing his tip to your lip, letting the precum smear against you before aiming inside you. The hot white liquid hitting the back of your throat quickly before you swallow the sour taste down.

         “Damn, you were gonna let me miss this?” Kids husky voice turning slightly sweet as his hand caresses your cheek before glancing up at Killer who squeezes you tighter to his body, “And here I was thinking you two wouldn’t get along.”

         Your mind was still foggy, not fully processing what was happening. The sudden stop of movements lets the air tickle your skin, turning you slightly cold. You turn to snuggle into the man below you, an arm grabbing onto Kid in an attempt to pull him down. “ ‘m tired” You mumble, the throbbing ache starting to become more prominent as your eyelids got heavier.

         Kid watches as you fall asleep in Killers arms, “Why didn’t ya take your mask off?” The question came as he leaned down to remove Killers helmet himself. A sweaty, flushed red embarrassed face was revealed making Kid chuckle, “Like our lil Mouse that much?” The silent agreement coming as Killer gets on the bed properly, laying against the pillows, being careful to not wake you up.