#and ugh it's so frustrating when you do so much prep for something

[moody-alcoholic]

Kidnapped

John Price x reader

CW: You read the title right? break in, kidnapping, drugging, canon typical violence.

Part 2

You always thought John was joking when he told you, you might have to hide from people out to get him. He’s a soldier after all, not a crook. He’s out there doing his bit for queen and country, saving lives and fighting the bad guys.

It’s not like in the movies where there’s drugs or you’re on the run, he hasn’t broken the law. You live a simple life; you work, you cook, shop, keep the house clean. The only difference between you and any other person you know is your husband sometimes disappears for weeks at a time. Months if you’re unlucky.  

There’s missed birthdays and anniversaries, contact can be hard when he’s away. You fill your time by working overtime or hanging out with friends so when he’s home you can dedicate all your time to him. 

So you thought it was him when the slam of a door jolts you from your sleep. You open your eyes, picking up your phone to check the time. It’s almost 2am, not an unusual time for him to get back after a long deployment. 

But something is different, something is wrong. 

John is not the type of person to sneak through your house, he’s not the type of person to worry about not making noise. Whoever closed the door is walking through your house in silence. There’s no heavy drop of a duffle bag, no bounce of kicked off boots. No clank of keys in the bowl by the door. 

It’s so silent you can hear your own heartbeat picking up in your chest. 

Maybe it was the wind, maybe you forgot to close a window? Then you hear the creek on the steps, the pause in the intruder's stride. This is an old house with old floors. 

John told you want to do, he prepped you for this exact situation but somehow in the panic of the moment your mind is drawing a blank. Maybe you should pretend to be asleep, maybe then they will leave you alone. 

No, something tells you to move. You grab your phone slipping off your bed onto the floor. In the basement there’s a storm room, although living in the UK you don’t have much use for it, John refurbished it to a panic room. He keeps his ‘not-so-legal’ weapons in there, only you and him know the code. 

You’re forgetting everything he taught you, all you can think about is making sure you don’t lose your phone and making it to the garage. You pull yourself up to your feet, your hands are shaking as you make it to the door. You crack it open holding your breath. 

“I think we need to go up a floor.” 

“Ugh, it’s going to be a pain to get her out of here.”

It’s two people, and they’re clearly after you. Your heart is hammering in your chest. You wait until you hear them start up the next flight before sneaking down to the ground floor. You can feel tears well up in your eyes. 

This can’t be happening, why are people after you? What did John do? 

You make it into the kitchen, closing the door behind you. You make sure to hold the handle down so there is no audible click before you let it go. Maybe you should run, just call the police. John told you not to though. Call John, get to the safe room.

It takes you two attempts to open the contacts app on your phone. Your hands are shaking, your fingers feel numb. Eventually you manage to click on his number bringing the phone up to your ear as the call rings out. You make it over to the backdoor that leads into the garage. 

“Come on, come on, John pick up.” You whisper hearing the shake in your voice, as you fumble for the back door key on the rack. It feels like you’re making too much noise. 

The call goes to the answerphone. “Fuck, John.” Frustration boils in you, why is he not picking up?

You find the key. The frustration is replaced with relief as you fumble pressing it into the keyhole. 

You dial his number again as you go into the garage, you can see the false wall of tools John hid the door behind. You’re rushing towards it as you pull the facade back revealing the slim door, into the meter-by-meter room. 

“Hey!” You turn seeing a figure in the dark you don’t recognise.

You forgot to lock the kitchen door. 

You throw yourself into the space. It’s too late someone grabs your arm. You scream and fight as they pull you back. Your body falls to the floor, you drop the phone. 

“NO!” you scream as a hand claps round your mouth. There’s another person now they’re shouting at each other, at you. You kick, and flail as hands grip you, fingers digging into your skin. Tears stream down your face, you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. 

The hand leaves your mouth and you scream as loud as you can. Even in your ears the scream sounds foreign. It’s real fear, you’re screaming for your life.

A wet rag is placed over your nose and mouth. It smells rancid, after a few breaths your head starts to swim. The second pair of hands grip your ankles. Suddenly you don’t have the strength to fight. Adrenaline pulses through you, you try to dig your heels into the ground. 

For a second you free one of your legs slamming your foot flat on the ground.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” 

An arm comes round your neck squeezing tight. You can’t breathe, you can't suck in air. Your head swims, your body goes limp. You try to squirm but it's no use. Your last though is of John, you hope you haven't let him down.

____

Part 2

[tantei-chan01]

The Giver. Mute Branch Au

Notebook talking has this "-"

Sign language is this "*"

Xxx

A scrapbook opens as Poppy narrates, "Years ago, on the night of the Harvest Moon, a mysterious troll paid our village a visit and delivered gifts to everyone becoming known only as ... the Giver." On the page, a little troll in a hoodie leaves presents in the pods, stopping to pose in front of the moon. "Every Harvest Moon since has been the same, leaving presents under the veil of night."

The little trolls in the pod leave for a moment, missing the Giver leaving them a gift, "Yay!"

"Which everyone loves...." Poppy suddenly shuts the book, "but it drives ME completely insane!"

A crowd of trolls looked at her in confusion, chattering amongst themselves.

"When you give a gift, you’re supposed to receive a thank-you card. It’s what separates us from the animals. And this Troll is making a mockery of the whole thing. " Frustrated, Poppy throws the book on the mushroom, Smidge behind her with a stern look. "Ugh!"

The crowd gasped, Biggie covering Mr. Dinkles eyes. Branch tapped a dazed Suki's shoulder and held up his brown notebook, "- I think I might missed a step from being in my bunker the last decade. Does she do this every year?-"

Suki shrugged, "Pretty much. I just nap through it. Thank goodness, I learned to sleep with my eyes open, right?" She snores with her eyes open, making Branch gasp and drop his notebook.

"Well, listen up, Giver. You may have escaped me in the past, but this year I’ve rigged the entire village with hidden alarms." She points to Smidge, who pulls a conveniently placed vine. Red and blue bell like flowers beging blaring out an alarm. "Which means I will catch you and will get what’s coming to you."

Smidge pulls out a purple bat (which I hope is actually rubber) with an eager face. "Yeah!"

"This!" Poppy pulls out a blue thank-you card and opens it to show off her card, making skills

Smidge nervously laughs and hides the bat. "Uh, yeah, that."

"So this is your last chance. Come forward now and take your thank-you like a troll." The crowd looks at each other, but no one comes forward. Poppy then hears a certain breathing pattern that she definitely recognizes as laughter, "Something funny, Branch?"

Branch signs, "*Yes, you.*"

"Hm…"

"*I realize I’m new to all this, but if “the Gifter” wants to remain anonymous, shouldn’t we respect that?*"

Biggie excitedly asks, "OH! Can I try translating?" Branch nods to the gentle giant. "Okay, you said something about making cookies for the Giver."

"Meep."

Biggie looks at Mr. Dinkles, "What do you mean I'm not even close?"

Reminding herself to help Biggie with translating later, Poppy responds as Smidge seems to be counting trolls, "It’s “the Giver.” If you’re gonna be a know-it-all, get your facts straight."

"Uh, Poppy, just did a hair count, and Satin and Chenille are absent."

Poppy quickly turns to her, "Absent?! On the Harvest Moon?" Her face switched to determination, "Let’s go, Smidge. We’ve got a new lead suspect."

"Uh, there’s two of them."

"We’ve got a new lead of suspects. "

Xxx

The scene switches to Satin and Chenille's pod, only to reveal Satin sick in bed.

Satin sneezes and then blows her nose into a tissue, tossing it into a pile next to her. "I love being sick. It’s like my body has a whole other side to its personality for me to get to know. Don’t you think?" She turns to Chenille, who's wearing a gas mask and carrying a spray bottle.

Chenille sprays at her twin, "Back, vessel of pestilence! Back!"

Poppy and Smidge sneakily walk up to the window, "You ready to bust these gift-giving punks, Poppy?"

Poppy pulls out the card and preps it. "Locked and loaded." She hears crunching and sees Branch sitting in a chair, eating a bag of popcorn. "Ugh! Don’t you have better things to do?"

"*Than watch you make a fool of yourself? (munches) Please, I cleared my whole day.*"

Smidge looks at him, "OK he definitely said something about you embarrassing yourself." Branch tapped his nose twice. "Cool." She smiles, then turns her attention back to Poppy, "Ignore him. How do we get ‘em to talk?"

"By using the oldest Troll interrogating technique there is-good cop, great cop."

Smidge uses her baseball bat to shine light into Satin and Chenille’s pod. Directing it to face Satin.

She flinches for a moment and then relaxes into it. "Ah! Ooh, that sunshine feels so good."

Poppy leans in close to the sick troll. "You know what else is good?" She takes out a cookie. "Cookies. And you can have them if you tell me what I want to know."

"Ooh."

She pushes the cookie closer, "Or if you don’t, either way."

Satin smiles. "That’s so nice."

"Oh, yeah?!" Smidge pulls a cake from behind and lightly slams it on the table, "I’ll give you an entire cake, no strings attached!"

Satin feels a bit conflicted, "Wow, I feel like I should at least tell you something."

Poppy gets right in her face, "Well, I’ll give you a back rub."

"I’ll write you a haiku."

Poppy bangs on the table, "I’ll be your best friend!"

Satin holds her head in what seems to be guilt, "OK. OK. I confess. I color my hair! I’m not a natural purple." She then points to her sister as the lights come on. "Neither is Chenille."

Chenille's eye twitches in disbelief, "You...are dead to me."

"Hold on. So you’re not the Giver?"

An unfamiliar laugh distracts the four, turning to see Branch leaning on his chair laughing, "*Bravo, Poppy. You really broke the case of the purple hair wide open.*"

Poppy growls, feeling a little conflicted, seeing as he'sactually laughing for others to hear. Chenille comments, "I only understood purple hair. "

Satin smiles a little, "Well, it's nice to actuallyhearhim laugh. "

Branch leans to far bach on the chair, knocking down the curtains, revealing what appears to be red wrapping papper. Poppy gasps, "That looks like the paper the Giver uses." She turns back to Satin and Chenille. "Explain yourself… ves!"

"That paper’s not ours."

Chenille explains, "Yeah, it’s so five years ago. Do you think we’ve been living under a rock?"

Smidge licks the paper, "It’s definitely the same-quality pulp, hand-cut edging," She then points to a logo, "and look at the insignia. It comes from Sky Toronto’s Party Shop.

Poppy turns back to the twins, "Ladies, I really hope Sky doesn’t tell me you’re the Giver, or so help me, I’ll thank you like you’ve never been thanked before." She walks backward and arrives at Sky Toronto’s Party Shop.

She walks with the older glitter troll as he gives out orders, "It’s crunch time, people. I need 200 piñata ideas on my desk by tomorrow morning." The workers walk away. "Queen Poppy, I’m honored, yada, yada, but let’s cut to the chase. There are 18 parties, 12 soirees, and at least five shindigs on an average Troll night all supplied by me, Sky Toronto." He snaps his fingers. "So time is glitter."

She holds out the wrapping paper, "Do you recognize this?"

Sky stops as a worker approaches him, "Pause."

The worker holds out the confetti samples, "Mr. Toronto, the new confetti designs for your approval, sir."

Sky throws each sample to inspect, "Pass, hard pass, too cliché." He stops at the fourth one. "Ah, that one. That’s the confetti of the now." The worker leaves, and he turns back to Poppy, "Yes, I recognize it. Not popular, except with one troll who picks up about 100 rolls once a year."

Poppy gasps, "Once a year?!"

Another worker walks up to him with a disco ball in her hand, "Hey, S.T. The boys in decorations just cooked up this new color. Thoughts?"

Sky thinks for a moment, "Hm. Not bad. But disco balls aren’t testing well. How about disco… cubes?" The worker gasps and walks backward, her mind blown.

Poppy tries to get his attention, "Let me get this straight. The Troll who gets this paper, you’ve seen him in person?"

"Many times." An explosion catches his attention and sees some workers running from it. "Don’t mind that. Accident in the trick candle division. We try to put it out, but every time we do…" Trolls bring in water and fire extinguishers to put it out, but the explosion gets worse. "I should ask Branch to see if he can come up with something to put it out."

Later, Smidge is getting a cup of water in the meeting room while Poppy is talking to Sky with Harper sitting with him.

"Okay. Just give Harper here a physical description."

Sky begins the description, "Body of a warrior. Earlobes of a poet. Butt that shimmers like the night sky. We done here?"

Poppy looks at the picture groans, "Describe the mystery Troll, not yourself." She turns Harper's clipboard to reveal a drawing of Sky.

Sky takes the picture Harper drew and hands it over to one of the workers, "My mistake. But I’m keeping that. The troll had dark eyes, a shrouded face, and hair the color of mystery."

Harper shows Poppy a picture of the Giver. Which is only a troll in a hoody wearing sunglasses. Poppy stammers, "What is this?! This isn’t helpful."

"I said I saw the Giver, not that it’d be helpful."

Harper takes back the picture she drew, "Wait. I’ve seen this Troll."

Xxx

Later that night, Harper Poppy and Smidge go to find the Giver, "I saw the Troll down here this morning… over by the tree roots." She points to a large tree. They continue to walk as the fog clears. Poppy gasps to see several gifts ready to be delivered.

Smidge is a bit suspicious, "Uh…"

Poppy looks on in awe, "The Giver’s stash. They’ll have to come back here before delivering tonight’ gifts. This is where we make out stand." As she tries to walk away, she hears squishing sounds.

Smidge looks up at her, unimpressed, "Uh, we’re standing in mud."

The royal moves away from the mud, "This is where we make our stand.

An owl is heard hooting in the background. Poppy and Smidge are hiding in the bushes. "It’s just a matter of time. Eventually, our Mystery Troll will have to come back to get the gifts, only to find…"

Smidge pops out of some tall grass, "Whammo! It’s a stakeout, boy!"

"Oh, yeah!" The two hear rusting. "That’s the Giver now!" The troll appears and seems to go to the gifts. "Gotcha!" She pulls a vine, and many flowers pop up. They shoot balls and streamers along with a thank-you banner.

Spiders jump down and sing, "Thank you!"

Poppy runs out of her hiding place, "Ha! I thanked you! I thanked you so hard! Yes, yes, yes!" She turns on a flashlight and pulls away the flowers. "Now, what do you have to say for yourself?!" The flowers reveal that it was only Cooper.

Cooper gives them a clueless smile, "You’re welcome."

Poppy is shocked, "All these years, it was you? W-why did you - When did you…" She puts her flashlight away and tries to calm down. "You know what? Just start from the beginning and tell me everything."

Cooper looks at her, "Everything? Okay. Darkness. Then I emerge from the womb, wearing this very hat."

(5 minutes later)

"And then the theme of my 7th birthday party was invisible friends. It was very well attended."

(2 hours later)

"And then, after years of hard work at graduation, my classmates finally turned to me and said, “You’re not in class.” (chuckles) We laughed."

(Another 2 hours later)

"And then some weird Troll told me if I came out here, I’d find some empty boxed for my empty-box collection. And then you trapped me and said, “Tell me everything.” And then I said, “Darkness. I emerge from the womb”-

Poppy stops him, "Whoa! Just answer this question." She takes out the picture Harper drew. "Are you or are you not the Giver?"

He taps the picture, "That’s the weird Troll that sent me here."

They looked at him in disbelief, "The Giver sent you here?"

A random green spider set down a package and pulled back up. "Special delivery from the Giver."

Smidge opens the present and reveals a letter. “Dear Poppy, I’m sorry. This was the only way. From, the Giver.”

"It’s a setup. The Giver wanted us to come here!" She hears the alarms sounding in Troll Village.

Smidge looks over the horizon, "Oh, my Guh."

Poppy quickly runs toward the village, "Halt! Halt in the name of gratitude!" She looks up at the pods to hear the Trolls cheering because their gifts were delivered. She falls to her knees, leans up towards the sky, and exclaims, "THANK YOU!"

The Trolls are celebrating their given gifts while a sad Poppy sits at her pod. "The giver won, Smidge." She opens her card. "No point in holding on to this anymore. She rips the card to pieces.

Smidge tries to cheer her up, "Come on, Poppy, at least you got a present, huh?"

Poppy takes the present, "A horribly wrapped present. Who uses so much tape?" She sighs, "Chenille was right. This Troll really must live… under a rock! (gasps) Trolly-moley. I know who it is!" She gives her present to Smidge and runs. Then she comes back to pick up her destroyed card. "I really regret doing that." Smidge takes both presents to her pod for safe keeping.

Xxxxx

We return to the tree to see a dark figure heading towards a cave hidden amongst the vines, "Hold it right there, Giver."

Poppy walks towards the figure and grabs their shoulders, "It’s time for you to be finally thanked." She turned them around to reveal, "(gasps) Mr. Dinkles!"

The hoodie falls off to reveal the cute little glow worm on top of some other pets. Smidge pops out of the bushes, "Wait, so it wasn't Branch?"

Poppy shakes her head, "If you're here, then who's with Biggie?"

Xxxx

We quickly go back to the village in Biggie's pod, "Isn't this wonderful, Mr. Dinkles?" He pulls out a brand new camera, showing it to a doll that looks like Mr. Dinkles, with a poorly hidden tape recorder on its back. "Meep"

Xxxx

"So if all of you are the Giver, why keep it a secret?" Poppy asks.

"Meep."

Poppy cooed, "Aww, you all just wanted to show your love for everyone by doing something nice."

Smidge pulls out a present from her hair, "Well, that explains the massive amount of tape. Must be pretty hard to wrap without thumbs."

Poppy cleared her throat, "OK guys, I still want to thank all of you, so how about you all come to my pod tomorrow for some special treats?"

The pets all agreed and waved goodbye to the two trolls as they walked back to the village. Once they were gone, they quickly ran into the cave. Dinkles flipped over a rock to reveal a pass code lock, he typed in some numbers, and a hatch opened. They all jumped in, landing in a very familiar living room.

"Meep." Well done, everyone. They all turned to see Branch taking off a dark hoodie and special night vision sunglasses. "Meep." She doesn't suspect a thing.

"Meep." Correct, Quiet One. Now, I believe we are to receive our payment.

Branch smiles and pulls out his special, pet friendly, triple fudge brownies. As he watches them enjoy the treat, he laughs silently, 'Sorry Poppy, but this is one secret I'd like to keep to myself for a while.

[sunny-speaks]

Nerd (RIVAL!DACTED x Reader)

First Ren Fic of the new year let's go guys!

Lol, life's been pretty busy and I haven't had as much time to write as I wanted but I guess I have a new aspiration for 2024! Enjoy the fic!

Characters: [REDACTED]/[RIVAL-DACTED] from @14dayswithyou x reader !!

Quick summary: library date??? with [RIVAL-DACTED]??? even though hes a pain to you??? more likely than you would think-

--

You groaned into your hand, head starting to slump into the crook of your arm.

You loved academic validation and you were all for getting good grades and all, but…

Studying?

Always found a way to bore you somehow.

You were painfully poring over the midterm research that your postsecondary teacher and lecturer had assigned for your ‘Psychology in Modern Media’ course.

Sure, it was fun and all. But the exams were sooo boring and the prep material?

God awfully boring.

You took a sip from the drink that you got from the nearby coffee store, twirling the near-empty cup in your hand as you wistfully sighed.

High school was something you’d taken for granted, huh… Man, you'd kill to do those stupid assigned readings right now.

You could feel some form of fatigue taking over your body riiight before… “Angel? What are you doing here~?”

That cotton candy bastard showed up.

Ugh! You couldn’t get enough of him! (In a negative sense! In a negative sense!)

He was everywhere!

You spotted his annoyingly attractive face in that dumb coffee shop earlier when he winked at you and five people behind you nearly fainted.

That ridiculously hot face of his was giving you unwanted and unwarranted troubles! You wanted him gone.

He pulled up in that ridiculously tight black bodysuit and that white slasher hoodie of his with too many belts and buckles to keep track of. The same unfortunately went for his pants.

It’s like he was trying to show himself off! Ugh, he knew he was hot shit, didn’t he?!

You glared at him, frustration seeping through, “What do you want now, [REDACTED]? If it’s not your head on a spike, I’m good.”

He raised his arms in mock surrender, “Woah, what’s got you so worked up, Angel? Is it lonely at the top?” He’d let you top him in anything if you wanted… In class, in bed, whatever…

He looked so stupidly attractive with the way his hair framed his face, the way his grin sat perfectly on all his features, the little way his eyebrows creas—

“Ugh, just, shut up, will you?” You scoffed out at him then winced at your volume.

That was rude. Even for you.

You sighed, exasperated, slight guilt remnants on your face. “I- My bad… Just the… exam prep is confusing. And I don’t get it.”

He gave an inquisitive tilt of his head, “Which questions?” He slid into the seat beside you, leaning close enough for you to smell the faint traces of black coffee lingering on your clothes from your previous encounter. You tried to erase that ugly feeling when you saw him smile at a pair of girls from earlier.

(…Does he always smile like that to others?)

(Ha, yeah. Not like you’re anyone special…)

He smiled softly to himself as his breaths got deeper, trying to intake as much of your natural scent as he could. That was something he would always want more of...

(Those pathetic leeches from earlier left their stupid perfume lingering on his clothes… the only way to rid him of it was to sit closer to youuu <3)

Somehow, you were too preoccupied with your stupidly annoying questions to even berate his presence this time.

And if you were a little distracted by how close he was, that was no one else's business.

They’d been giving you way too much trouble for the past… half-hour or so.

You picked up the question sheet and pointed at the parts you didn’t understand, “So, I got what a sociopath should look like and covert signs in that dumb show I had to watch, and I know the ways to find sociopathic responses in someone, but how does that correlate with these random non-associated symptoms portrayed by this character?!”

You involuntarily leaned closer to him as you stabbed the piece of paper with an accusatory finger, frustrated. “I swear! The teacher hates me or something!”

[REDACTED] wouldn’t let it slide if the teacher actually hated you though… He’d ruin her reputation amongst colleagues while keeping her isolated from social media. They’d make all family members repulsed of her and willing to not contact her. And then they’d get her fired from her job. If she ever tried to get another job, he could easily fabricate a couple pieces of incriminating evidence from one of his crime scenes…

But he knew you would find it hot that he's confident in himself and that he's witty. So he wouldn't explain his plan just like that.

He grinned, a condescending quip on the tip of his tongue. “Maybe it’s just because I’m a hotter student.”

You spluttered in indignance, bewildered how he even thought of that. Was he insinuating he was hotter than you?! He might be right then... “Wh-What?! Asshole! Ugh!” Just as you were about to get up, he added onto his comment.

“Also, the answer’s right there.” He twirled a pen with his fingers, softly whistling to himself.

“Huh?!” You couldn’t believe it.

But he was right...?

You read the part he had underlined and circled and… the answer was there. That's... weird.

You didn’t have a clue on how you missed it! It drove you insane for so long, and for what?! For that stupidly sexy jerk to find it in one go?

You groaned reluctantly at the help. Maybe he wasn’t just… y’know, a piece of ass all the time... or a jerk. Maybe he was… kinda smart and nice. “Fine. Good job, I guess, asshat… Why’re you even here, god knows you don’t need to study. Like. Ever.” You eye up and down at his visible muscles that his outfit strains to keep compressed.

He pouts a little at the accusation. “Mm, even I study, angel. Might be hard to believe with a physique as good as mine, but I do take time to work on my studies.”

“Sure. And it was totally by chance that we saw each other at the coffee shop down the street. And that you study at the same library as me.” You drawled on, naming one coincidence after the other until [REDACTED] was subjected to some form of abject embarrassment. "What're you, a copycat?"

You paid that much attention to him? No one else… Just him?

Ooh, his heartbeat practically played hopscotch in his chest at the revelation! But no! He must remain calm and mean! Only for you!

They grinned slyly at you. “Angel, please. I would never even try to copy you. So it must’ve been your idea to imitate me, huh? Bet you stalk me or something,” He lied through their teeth, in the pathological way they were used to. They’d be lying if it wasn’t incredibly ironic.

“Hah, you wish.” Your nose twitched in annoyance. God, he was far too good at riling you up. “Whatever, what’s the answer to…”

And the two of you spent the rest of the day, bickering over answers.

Maybe [REDACTED] had earned a bit, a fraction, of your gratitude.

Maybe you were starting to like them a bit more.

But he’d never know that, it’s not like he reads your phone notes or messages or has cameras in your house.

…Right?

[cheesesoda]

Hii I’m sorry if my request ideas aren’t good but I figured I’d offer you up something! Maybe something where Sanji meets a girl who even though she identifies as a girl she’s very Tom boyish and averse to feminine things not because she doesn’t like them but because growing up in an environment with a bunch of strong male pirates she didn’t want to be seen as weak or lesser. But basically this all leading to Sanji helping to show her that it’s okay to indulge in her feminine interests and not have to try and look and act like a boy as a defense mechanism?

a/n: OKAY THIS IS ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD y/n out here being a lil relatable ngl 🧍‍♀️lol thank you sm for the req! i hope u like it bae 🫶

goddess

sanji x tomboy!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

cw: some internalized misogyny, language

“they’ve been arguing for hours! ugh, would they just be quiet?” nami groans, laying back in her deck chair next to robin. “oh, my dearest nami-swannnnn~ robin-chwannnnnn~ i’ve brought you some drinks!” sanji spins onto the deck with a tray holding 2 tropical drinks. “thank you, sanji-kun!” nami smiles as she takes her drink. suddenly, a loud crash and some incoherent yelling is heard from the crow’s nest. sanji, nami, and robin all turn their attention to the source of the noise. “what’s going on up there?” sanji asks. “y/n and zoro are arguing again about who’s stronger.” robin explains, taking her drink from the tray too. “i’m not sure why she cares so much about being the strongest. i mean, her determination is admirable but why?” robin queries.

later that night…

it’s the middle of the night and sanji is cleaning up his kitchen. everybody has gone to bed. well, almost everyone. as he’s putting away the last dish, he hears some distant mumbles. he frowns and goes to investigate the noise. he finds that it is once again coming from the crows nest. he creeps up the ladder cautiously and is met with the sight of you. you’re lifting the heaviest weights you could find. he’s about to ask you what you’re doing up so late since you hadn’t realized his presence, but for some reason, he just watches. you grunt in exhaustion and drop the weight. “fuck!” you pant, burying your head in your hands. “i’m so weak. dammit! they were right, i should’ve been born a man. then i wouldn’t be so damn useless. i need to be stronger! stronger than zoro! or luffy or sanji or any other man!” you cry out in frustration. sanji decides not to say anything, knowing that you’d breakdown if anyone saw you so vulnerable, so he leaves you in the crows nest and heads to his room, still thinking about your words.

the next morning…

sanji gets up at 4AM to start prepping and making breakfast for the crew and luffy’s endless stomach when memories of what you said last night flood his mind. “i’m so weak. dammit! they were right, i should’ve been born a man. then i wouldn’t be so damn useless. i need to be stronger!” his heart churned at the thought of you thinking that way. as if on cue, you come into the kitchen to accompany sanji while he makes breakfast (as you usually do). “good morning, my lovely y/n-chwannnn~” he swoons. “morning, sanji.” she smiles tiredly. “are you alright, y/n-chan? did you not sleep last night?” he asks, when he notices the grey circles underneath your tired eyes. “i’m fine.” she responds.

later that day — 1PM

“okay so two people are keeping watch on the ship. it’s usopp and franky’s turn today so the rest of us will go explore the island. got it?” nami explains to the crew as they dock on an island. everyone agrees and begins to wander around the island. “oh y/n-chwannnn~ may i accompany you as you shop?” sanji asks. “sure.” she says. after walking around a bit, they walk past a dress shop. “nami-swan would look beautiful in that orange dress!” sanji exclaims as he rushes into the store, you reluctantly following behind him. once he finishes buying the dress, he finds you admiring a beautiful (and very feminine) f/c dress. “you’ll look stunning in that dress, y/n-chwan! you already look like a goddess though!” he says as he approaches you. “huh?! what? i wasn’t looking at it! why the hell would i be looking at a dress? what do you think i am—some girly girl? and stop calling me y/n-chan like i’m just some weak girl! don’t treat me like i’m a woman!” she stammers in embarrassment. before storming out of the store.

later that evening — 5PM

after searching for you all day, sanji finds you sitting alone on top of a hill overlooking the sea. he walks up to you silently. without turning around, you can tell he’s there. “don’t just stand there. say something. don’t treat me like i’m some fragile thing that might break.” you groan. after a moment of silence, he sits next to you. “y/n-cha- … y/n, why don’t you cry?” he asks. “what?” she frowns, snapping her head to him. “why don’t you cry? in the entire time i’ve known you, you have never cried in front of me, or any of us. why?” he clarifies. “what do you think i am? weak? crying is for the weak. crying never helped me when i was sad, so what’s the point? it just makes you look pathetic.” she scoffs. “…why do you care so much about strength?” he follows up. she looks at him in disbelief before closing her eyes and laying her head on her knees. “you’re the strongest person i know. and yes, you’re stronger than the marimo. but there’s so much more to you. why does it matter so much?” he says. there’s a brief silence before you take a deep breath. “before i joined the straw-hats, i was part of another pirate crew. the jack pirates.” [a/n: help idfk what to name it lmao] “i was with them since before i can remember. i was the only girl on the ship and that made them think of me as less. as if i could never be taken as seriously as them. they’d tell me i should’ve been born a boy, that i would’ve been useful. i would’ve been strong. but no, i was born a girl. useless. annoying. weak. i guess that’s why… i just wish i was equal to them. i wish i could be as strong as them.” you explain. you’d never told anyone any of that before. “is that why you act more masculine than nami and robin?” he asks. “i guess…” you mumble. being this vulnerable made you uncomfortable. “i see…” he whispers. “follow me.”

“where are you taking me?” you protest. “don’t worry, my love! it’s a surprise.” he smiles back at you, holding your hand. the pet name makes you blush but you brush it off. finally, you reach the ship again. “why couldn’t you just tell me we were going to the ship?” you ask. “i have a surprise for you on the ship.” he grins.

he leads you to his room and hands you a bag. “what’s this?” you raise an eyebrow. “just open it.” he urges you. sighing, you pull out the item from within the bag. it’s the f/c dress you were gawking at earlier. “sanji, you don’t seriously think i can wear this-“ you groan. “being feminine doesn’t make you any less strong, y/n. everyone else is still gone and brook and usopp fell asleep. please, try it on.” he says softly. you contemplate what to do until you get up silently and walk into bathroom. after a few minutes (a few = 10) you come out of the bathroom nervously. sanji’s jaw literally hits the floor, but he composes himself. gorgeous was practically an insult if he were to describe you. you were more beautiful than a goddess. “for lack of better words: you look beautiful, y/n.” he whispers as you both look at you in the mirror. “beautiful…” you repeat under you breath. the compliment was one you hated to hear, but for some reason, you didn’t hate it as much anymore. “you’re beautiful in this dress and without it, just like how you can lift the heaviest weights on this ship whether you’re wearing a dress or not. you’re so beautiful and strong. you’re a goddess, my love. if only you could see that.” he says genuinely. you turn around and face him. you had always had a massive tiny crush on the cook, but you’d never say it because love is for the weak. “call me y/n-chan…” you breathe. “y/n-chan…” he smiles, matching your soft tone. “my perfect, strong, beautiful y/n-chan… my love…” he whispers so softly that nobody could hear it except you because of how close you were. he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear and cradles your cheek. ever so slowly, you inch towards each other more, glancing at each other’s lips every few seconds. your lips meet in the softest of kisses but filled with so much love. when you pull away, his hand stays on your face and somehow your hands made their way on his chest. “i love you, y/n-chan, i love you so much. just as you are.” he whispers to you. and then it happens. a tear rolls down your cheek. a part of you that you never were allowed to embrace was finally released at the hands of the man you love. you wrap your arms around him as you softly cry into his dress shirt. he reciprocates the hug. “i love you too, sanji. i love you so much.”

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Idia Shroud Chef Apprentice Personal Story: Part 1

"Master Chef"

Part 1 (Part 2)

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Idia Version ～Let’s Make Stuffed Peppers 1～

Ghost Chef: Alright, well, I'll have you start by making the Stuffed Peppers… Idia-kun, have you ever cooked anything before?

Idia: Eh….........Ah…......Ah…...I haven’t.

Ghost Chef: Oh my, are you nervous? Don't worry, this program is aimed towards amateurs like you. You don't have to tense up like that!

Idia: N-No, this is my default setting…

Idia: Ugh, actually… It's a pain to try to explain it, so I'll just let him think whatever.

Ghost Chef: Idia-kun? Are you alright to continue?

Idia: …Kk.

Ghost Chef: First, prep the sweet bell peppers. Cut off the stem and use your fingers to take out all the seeds and the white bits from inside.

Ghost Chef: It might be a bit hard to remove, but it won't be as tasty if they're left on. Make sure to take them all off.

Idia: What, they want me to cut a round object on a flat surface…? Urrgh, it's not sitting still.

Idia: I don't wanna get hurt in an elective like this. Gotta hold it firmly… Carefully… Carefully…

[chop]

Idia: …Whew, that was scary. K, next is to take out the insides with my fingers, I guess. Urgh… This squishiness suuucks…

Ghost Chef: Take your time and be gentle so as to not damage the produce. However, there is still much more left to do, so don't take too much time.

Idia: Wh-Which is it…!? Do you want me to take my time or hurry up!? Eek, the seeds are stuck to my fingers… This is the worst…

Ghost Chef: Once you've taken out all the seeds, cut the pepper into round slices, 2 cm thick.

Ghost Chef: Make sure to cut them evenly, keep an eye on the thickness of each slice.

Idia: …If you're gonna be that adamant, shouldn't you should pick something other than a knife for this!? A newbie'll definitely make mistakes!?

Ghost Chef: You don't have to put that much thought into it. It's just something to keep in mind.

Idia: Oh, so it's just gotta be close enough? Then say that from the get go…

Ghost Chef: ―Next, you need to make the stuffing that'll go inside. We'll measure out each ingredient as per the recipe and put them in a bowl.

Idia: The stuff I need to measure out are… 1/4 cup of breadcrumbs, 2 tablespoons of milk, an egg… "a pinch" of salt and pepper?

Idia: There it is… "a pinch." Instructions that leave it to the experience and tastes of the one making it that has no repeatability…

Idia: That so frustrating. Let's say I was a pepper aficionado, wouldn't that change the size of that "pinch"???

Ghost Chef: Hmmm. For this recipe, maybe just three shakes of the pepper is enough. All it needs is a "pap, pap, pap" with a quick flick of your wrist.

Idia: Now you're just using sounds to describe it!? Huh, but there's so many ways that could introduce error into the equation, just by the way you snap your wrist; how much force you put into it, your physique, and whatever else.

Ghost Chef: I-I never thought there'd be this many questions about something like this.

Idia: …Haah, whatever. It'll be annoying if I have to stay here longer than I need to, so I'll just shake it however…

Ghost Chef: Still, you sure do notice the smallest things. Are you starting to gain more interest in cooking?

Idia: Uh, no…? Eh? Where'd you get that idea…?

Idia: Uh… I don't really think about food to begin with. Honestly, I tend to forget to eat…

Ghost Chef: Ehh!? I'm sure that would worry your family.

Idia: Well… Yeah, I guess. My kid brother's always trying to push those nutritional health apps…

Idia: When I decided to take this class, I think he said something like, "I hope this'll get you more interested in cooking～"

Ghost Chef: That's a nice brother to have. And? What do you think, now that you're taking the class?

Idia: I get it now, after actually standing here and doing this. It's so inefficient to cook for yourself.

Idia: Just eating's a chore, so cooking on top of that's just a waste of time. Yup, nothing can stand up to those pre-packaged complete nutrition meals.

Ghost Chef: Oh no, did this Master Chef course just backfire!? Oh but, hey look, there's been a ton of recent advances in cookware, you know!

Ghost Chef: There are even pots that'll finish cooking for you if you throw in the necessary ingredients and seasonings!

Idia: Eh… If a pot that useful exists, then why's it necessary to learn how to cook from scratch?

Ghost Chef: No, no, you still need to cut the ingredients, or measure the seasonings yourself, obviously.

Idia: Why's that the only thing that's still gotta be done by hand, then? We can rely on those cooking appliances even more, I'm sure!

Ghost Chef: Do you think so? I think it's already pretty amazing.

Idia: If we're going to have "automated cooking," then it's be great if it'd at least also prepped the ingredients and measured the seasonings.

Idia: Like, just throw everything in the pot, cover it with the lid, wait a bit, and then ta-da, all you gotta do is put it on the plate, that'd be great.

Ghost Chef: If there ever is such a pot, then that might put me out of a job.

Idia: If I were to create an Idia Shroud Cooking Appliance (name pending)… First, I'd make sure to spell out what a "pinch" of something is.

Idia: And to do that, I'll need to collect more data on the actual cooking process.

Idia: And if I'm going to make something to collect that, I'd rather have a pro craft it for me…

Idia: Chef, I'm going to collect the necessary data in order to put together my own cooking appliance, so can I have you finish up the dish?

Ghost Chef: Of course not! I'm pleased that you're starting to get fired up, but you need to finish what you started!

Part 1 (Part 2)

Requested by @rotattooill.

[gayamulet]

Art drawling

Its sort of wild how art came to a screeching halt as soon as I got a full time job. And yeah, there's a bunch of corresponding factors- a physically demanding full time job crammed into 4 days, that I'm older and so, working with less energy, sleeping a lot more (seriously wtf), and compartmentalizing time much more. Freestanding time & energy is less and has to be planned out and those times left open for the chance to 'do art' in whatever capacity I can do not equate to 100% output success rates like day job hours. I can go in with a 'fuck yeah, art night!' frame of mind and come out pretty unfulfilled (again, with the awareness that fulfillment is not the goal).

And of course recognizing that many more mundane tasks fulfill a bigger chunk of that makemakemake drive- meal prep, cleaning (ugh), plant care, yard care, mending work clothes, etc. And you know, the more annoying factor. A lot of that creative energy also gets fulfilled by mundane tasks at work- animal care, walking, cleaning (yes that includes complicated dogshit catastrophes), training, behavior data collection & entry. I come out of it of course physically tired because it is hard messy work, but it also just has me choosing/seeking artistic outlets less, and not feeling too bad about it introspectively. Its make-drive going someplace useful, through whatever framework my brain has established as useful, idk.

All this brings me to my actual point of frustration with art-making, that when I have time and there is a bit of planning involved (I have exactly one con art show and local tiny art market to work toward this summer) and I sit down and I casually think about what I'd like, for me, for these events with no pressure and, again, for me, that

I just don't want to make myself anything. That it already exists, that there are endless iterations of whatever visual landscape I'm riffing through at any given time, that it doesn't need physical manifestation, that it no longer serves me creatively, that I don't care. I can dangle a glittery new process (ink, linocut, etc) like a its-about-the-process carrot in front of me, but suddenly I don't like carrots. And it feels, less born of a dead creative drive, and more like...an extension of what I don't want from other people- junk. That I do not want to generate more junk for myself. Does this make sense? I think it sounds more heartless than I mean for it to. Like unless there is very defined intention, then I don't need it? I cannot think of a way to explain it that doesn't sound protestant as fuck. Maybe I've hit some critical mass of art intake overload thanks to the internet, maybe this is just what creativity looks like now. Tho, there's enough of a useful task involved that freelance artwork is still hopping along- much more slowly than before for all the regular reasons listed above- but otherwise its fine. I still get that pleasant little brain buzz.

I get these surges of frustration, that I've fallen off from working toward some ultra-personalized visual landscape goal like I used to, that once I do I'll be perceived as human again, or something. Like this is still some pinnacle of artistic merit, in some mythical corner of my brain. But those surges are much less frequent than they used to be, and fizzle out quickly. And idk. Art isn't going anywhere in my life, but where it comes from and how I'm making and shaping things is changing again. I guess?

*I DO, however, wanna make more cardboard masks. So bad.

**I know I kept this in a pretty strict work vs art vacuum, without acknowledging other uses of time, including other hobbies which of course also accounts for creative/emotional outlet but you know what I'm gonna stop here before you guys figure out I'm actually a robot

[donghoonie-3]

Imagine Hoon getting home all frustrated from work. He'd find you all busy and he'd walk straight towards you and probably just kiss you roughly without saying anything, then he'd pull your pants and underwear down as he starts to finger you, prepping you to take his big cock. Then he'd bend you over the nearest surface and push his cock inside you as he starts to pound harder into you, fucking all his frustrations into you as he relaxes hearing your sweet moans. Then he'd start pulling on your hair as he keeps thrusting into you and dirty talking into your ear until you cum all over his cock. He'd keep pounding into you, overstimulating you until he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim. Then he'd take you to the bed or couch so you both can cuddle and makeout for a while as he whispers sweet words against your lips.

CW// Consensual free use, breeding kink

The way I'd let him do anything to me ugh 😭😭 you're just about to welcome him home and then he cuts you off with a rough kiss <3 you'd know right away what he wants and you'd be more than happy to give it to him. Your moans would only make him thrust harder into you, wanting to hear more <3 he loves your pretty sounds so much, it drives him insane. "Gonna fucking breed you like this" he'd say that while he'd be pounding into you from the back with your body bent over the table or counter top. If you show any signs of liking what he said he'd say "you like that don't you? You want me to fill you up with my cum hm? Fucking cum slut" he'd thrust harder and slap you ass when he says the last thing skdbsj. Ugh the hair pulling 🥴 he'd pull at your hair to lift you head up a bit and maybe put his fingers into your mouth because you're being too loud <33. The aftercare afterwords :( he'd make sure you're okay <3 he would never want to hurt you so he'd be checking up on you ever now and then for a couple of hours <33. If you can't walk he'd carry you to your bed/couch after cleaning you up <3. He'd tell you how well you took him and how much he loves you 🥺 he'd be the sweetest during aftercare <33 he wouldn't want to leave your side just incase something happens 😭💖

[frownyalfred]

Just wanted to pop in and say-- I adore your writing. I love your style, and how you characterize everyone, and the interesting ideas you have. I'm so sorry people are being rude and impolite, you don't owe anyone anything, least of all having to cater to someone elses ideas of what YOUR STORY should be like. I know how disheartening and hurtful it can be to recieve rude or downright mean-spirited asks or comments about something you really worked hard on and love, and I'm not sure how much an internet randoms words mean to you, but I want you to know that I can really feel the love you have for the characters you write about when I read your work.

Anyways. Take any time you might need to start enjoying writing again. Your happiness should not be forfeited for the sake of our enjoyment. Have a lovely day<3

Thank you! I just cannot, for the life of me, conceive of a situation where it's okay to tell an author that, not only was their ending bad, but then to go on and completely rewrite it in the comments of said author's fic. Just, blows my mind that people think that's appropriate.

I've had it happen several times recently from "well-meaning" readers and I don't speak for all authors, but rarely is it wanted feedback. Just because the ending in your head is "better" doesn't mean it's okay to tell the author that they should feel free to edit that in. Ugh.

I keep saying, if you want that ending, then you write the fic. You spend the endless hours in a google doc plotting and swapping words in and out. You do it for free while working a 45+ hr workweek and hitting the gym for 1.5 hrs every night. And feel free to do my meal prep while you're at it too!

Sorry for the rant. I'm just a little frustrated. I appreciate your support <3 it means so much.

[milgrammaintenance]

12/11/24 11:02pm

Nayo: Mmm...

Daniel: What? Don't tell me you're gonna start inspecting me too?

Nayo: Mmm... Hm. Is it me or are you a bit more manly?

Daniel: I think all of you are far too invested in the premise of this web series having an impact on me. Just because you're told you're wrong or right by a bunch of strangers doesn't mean you'll change. That's not how accountability works!

Nayo: Yep, the manliness level has risen.

Vinya: Yeah, you've definitely gotten a bit more mature.

Daniel: Are you all insane? Seeing things- Is it cabin fever? Are you all losing it?

Nayo: Okay fine how do you think you've changed.

Daniel: I haven't you've just known me longer! We've lived together for months ya know!

Nayo: Vance.

Daniel: Ep-Don't go saying his name out of nowhere are you trying to give me a heart attack!

Vinya: Ah, scratch that you are the same as usual huh.

Daniel: And you miss prep school shut up!

12/11/2024 5:54am

"What the hell is this?" I looked around my room in mild annoyance. Had that weird rabbit brought this in here.

We need your feedback! Please answer this questionnaire to the best of your abilities.

I scratched at my scalp confused. Seriously, a feed back survey??

01. On a scale of one to ten one being the lowest and ten being the highest how would you rate your guard (Nayo Ellis)?

Ugh... Seriously... Um... Why would they wait so long to do this survey. Shouldn't it had happened right after the trial ended. Mm... Well, I don't want to be harsh on Nayo. She did the best with what she was given. I guess... but if I'm too lenient, they'll just think I'm being nice, right?

I should just answer honestly.

I hesitantly filled in the circle for five before erasing it and going with six.

02. Please explain the reasoning behind your previous answers.

I mean... well, it was kind of shit show, wasn't it? She was unprepared, incredibly lenient, and kept letting her judgments be swayed and impacted by others. I really wanted to know her opinion, I guess... And she never really gave it. Honestly, even now, we haven't discussed what happened candidly.

I guess I just hoped for too much here.

That's on me.

03. On a scale of one to ten how much would say your verdict impacted you. One being not at all ten being a great deal I'm losing sleep over it!

Hm... That's complicated. I guess it's bothering me less now. Though at the start I was really bothered.... It was annoying all the assumptions, but when you choose not to talk about something in depth all the people around you can do is assume.

It's irritating being around so many people so casually bad mouthing the folks you care about. I got frustrated and confused by it. Nayo's response, the questions about Vance... I guess I thought I would be totally in the wrong.

It was the clear answer right.

I didn't do enough. The fault is on me... That's what I thought this entire time, and yet... Some people sympathized with me regardless.

It's kind of scary. I'm so used to not being believed to being the problem. I couldn't really comprehend being treated like the one who was wronged for once. It pissed me off a part of me wanted to yell at everyone and go, "You don't know a damn thing about Vance, so shut up." But I couldn't do that. So, I just wound up hurting myself instead.

I wonder if that's really a part of the verdict, though, or just my interpretation of it. Is it wrong for me to agree with the people who found me guilty without even giving it much thought. Without even taking the time to look at any part of the situation.

I can't help thinking that's how I'm meant to get treated after all.

It's always gonna be like that regardless of where I go. It's cruel to act like there are really people who won't see it that way. I mean, my best friend even saw it that way... I let out a weak laugh.

I guess I'd say an eight.

04. Would you say you received the right verdict?

If this is really about murder than no definitely not... But if it is about what I think it's about I don't know.

05. Why did you cooperate so easily or not?

I just read the mood. It's not as though not cooperating would have solved anything. Plus, it gave everyone something to get excited over. As well as a sense of control over the situation. It made it feel like we were progressing towards something instead of just trapped with each other.

Why wouldn't I cooperate? Why would I make a fuss?

Cause everybody to worry about our situation more. It got everyone into a rhythm. I don't really mind being the butt of the joke, the guy everyone hates, or distrusts. But seeing people panicked and scared is difficult if it could distract from that why not play along...

At least, that was my thought process on it.

06. What subject have you gotten along with the most?

Milko most definitely. He's a bit of an airhead but he's considerate of everybody around him and he gets the things I've been through. So I'd been relying on him a good deal.

07. What subject have you gotten along with the least?

God I hope no one gets to read this after I turn it in... But- Nayo. She's a bit the exact opposite of me I guess. She can't read a mood she's messy- Plus she has this idea of how relationships should be that she just won't let up on.

It's like someone picked the most difficult person for me to interact with and threw them in here.

11/20/2024 10:15am

"Is that what friendship is to you?" she asked with that unwavering look of hers.

I held her gaze not backing down, "What else is it meant to be?"

She looked a bit put on the spot, "It- it's when you can rely on someone isn't it? And you talk about the things troubling you."

"That sounds super inconvenient. If you're someone's friend you make their life easier not harder with your baggage."

"Are you really friends with someone if you have to keep doing things to prove your worth?" Her eyes wavered as she looked away from me and at the ground.

Was she pitying me?

"HUHN- Listen here, are you really friends when the only thing you can do is inconvenience the other?!"

She looked about her room agitatedly, "Well, I'd still be your friend if you inconvenienced me. You get that right?"

"Wha-what shut up shut up! That's weird and gross don't say stuff like that! That's not what friendship is at all!"

"Have you ever thought it should be like that. Friends who ditch you as soon as things get a bit hard are the worst! I'm not gonna be that way."

"Ah, you're annoying I'm leaving." she gave me a sad look and I took in her room again, "I'll finish helping you clean first though."

"Yay, you're the best!"

"Sta-stop hugging me!"

08. What subject are you interested in the most?

Oh that's easy Mirelle that lady is weird. Plus her and Milko get along as well as water and oil.

06/12/2024 4:15pm

"Mirelle, hey." Milko said as he waved the girl down, "Hey, hey, help me keep up with our studies. You're still smart, right? Your brain hasn't completely turned to mush, right?"

She elbowed him in the stomach with an annoyed grunt, "Vereze if you don't shut the fuck up! Ugh just hearing your voice is enough to start a migraine don't be happy while speaking to me."

"Ha, ha ah, as harsh as usual. So, that's a yes."

"What part of that sounded like a yes I'd love to." Mirelle glared at him as she spoke.

"Well, when you just said yes, I'd love to. Actually-" he said with a smirk, and her glare wavered.

"You ugh... You're lucky you're tolerable when you aren't asking for something." she conceded before rummaging in her pocket and quickly downing one of the pills she always had on her. I guess they were for migraines.

"Yes, nice! I'll go get the books I ordered then, and we can start." Milko rushed off excitedly, and I sighed.

"Ya know if you don't like him you could just refuse." I said and she rolled her eyes.

"It's not that I hate the guy or anything. It's just when he gets like that, it's annoying." she looked me over for a moment, "You've been hanging around him a lot, huh?"

"What; why are you asking that all of a sudden?" I straightened up on the couch a bit as I looked away.

She chuckled, "I'm not going to lecture you on your tastes or anything. I think you get enough of that from Ina and Nayo... Just try not to turn out like him, okay?"

"Milko is a pretty cool guy though..." I muttered and she laughed.

"Pfft I think you're the first person I've ever heard say that about him!" she said not able to hold back her laughter.

"Wha- what's so funny?" I asked as she gave me a pat on the head.

She gave me a small smile, "Ya know when I saw you here I thought oh no another spoiled brat jock. He's probably gonna be pushy and obnoxious. Like all the other guys around his age. But you've surprised me. I mean calling him cool. Like what can you count all the people you know well on one hand or something?"

"And wha- what if I can? Then what!" I yelled and she laughed harder.

"That would certainly explain why you would think Milko of all people is cool."

"And what do you think about him?" I looked her over as she took a seat beside me.

"I think he's sad and pathetic. He's a pushover. But I guess it's easy for me to think that we go to school together after all." she looked off to the side clearly waiting for him to return, "I've seen him get bullied every day since I entered that school."

"Bullied really?"

"Ahn yeah, heh, don't really know how deep it goes or anything. I try not to get too involved in those things."

Hm...

09. What subject(s) have you become friends with since being here?

Everyone I guess. Though it's pretty difficult finding out anything these guys are interested in. Especially Afra... I don't know what's up with her. Seems like she's not even from this decade at times.

10. What do you think of what you did to be brought here?

I think if it helped someone and the only one hurt was me then that's a really good thing.

[mardoufox21111]

man i am so exhausted. mentally. today d was at work but it was the afternoon, i had a nice time and washed my hair as well! i start work on thursday whichi m nervous/annoyed about. i wanted to win lotto today so i wouldnt have to deal with that. my last chance is tomorrow ahhh. i am just tired and it seems like nothing i do will progress me further in life. i am stuck living in this house, stuck doing stupid meaningless jobs. stuck not being able to write because my mother stifles my imagination and creativity and when shes not around my poor brain and body is trying to catch up and heal itself. all i need is to get out of here and i feel like i will be so much better mentally. im sick of having to be here and put up with this all. i mean im 32! 3 fucking 2! i wish i had the time and money to be able to have my own apartment, id work out in the morning have a nice fresh breakfast, prep my dinner/lunch, watch some tv and then write. i dont know i just wish i could. its so hard though like you have to have a fucking job and then i cant even get any freaking rentals because there are NONE and if i wanted to do a par time job and live i wouldnt be able to because anything is over $450. anything below is just a complete shit hole or not available to me. its like my life has been one big joke laughing at me all the time. i finally had the opportunity to  move out and hten its like no once in a lifetime rental shortage including rental prices extraordinarily high. so i cant afford it anyway if i want to have any chance at a life. its pathetic. 

tomorrow is my last day of freedom before i start my new job... hopefully iwin set for life. anyway of course on my last day t wants me to drive him to work or something because his van is broken. so i cant even fully relax or relax at all because by the time i drop bitch d off i have tohten also drop t off and hten come home and eat and whatever. i just hope that thursday is okay if i dont win lotto haha because theres always a chacne i could win and not have to go! anyway. i hope the people are nice and that the job isnt as daunting as i expect and that i am ok and my tummy doesnt make any stupid noises and that im not too hairy and i feel ok and that i dont feel nervous. in the scheme of things i need to just remind myself who gives a fuck its not like its a job i want 10000% or am dreaming of. it just fell into my lap at a time i needed it and worked. im ok and im strong and i can take any bs that people throw my way but i just hope its easy and nice and by easy i mean i hope i dont feel intimidated or scared and i hope i can be the confident person i have been recently. the most frustrating thing i think will be the fact that  i have to think of things to say... what did i do on the weekend,  haha ugh whatever. i dont care anyway. BUUUUUUUUT yeah heres hoping i get a bunch of money to myself tomorrow. 

[marshmallowgoop]

Your HeiShin posts have been driving me crazy! (In a good way lol) Especially the tags on your GIF's for HeiShin week(?). I LOVE your work and writings, I love the way you interpret things and i love the way you see each character. Augh.

Okay, enough gushing, hear me out! From the first time they met, from butting heads repeatedly and Heiji declaring they are sworn to be detective rivals, to Heiji in episode 521-523 to referring himself to Shinichi's best buddy. That's something so so sweet to me. Disliking a person based on what you hear about them, an overally aggressive, competitive friendship all the way to two close friends who'd help each other out in a heartbeat. They really do care about eachother and it makes me sooooft.

Sorry for rambling about them in your inbox, you don't have to respond to this whatsoever. I just love your interpretations of the two boys and your work in general. I've been thinking about them more and I wanna say thanks for the great GIF's and writing in the HeiShin tag lately. <3

Thank you!!

If I may, though, one thing I like about their relationship is how Heiji certainly tries to be combative at first, but he gives that up pretty quickly. (I mean, going on a Sherlock Holmes fan tour, even though he doesn't care much for Sherlock, all for the chance to see Shinichi?) And Shinichi is never particularly combative, either—he's not cruel when countering Heiji's incorrect deduction and goes out of his way to give Heiji a healthier mindset. I love that basically as soon as Heiji actually meets Shinichi, he kind of ditches the rival thing in favor of being Shinichi's best friend instead.

At least, that's how I see it, anyway! Thank you for reading my posts! I'm glad that they've resonated with folks 🥺

[hhighkey]

Nanami Kento Headcanons

AGE GAP SERIES - GENERAL

f!reader

series: how you met,

the most perfect man

you’re a good amount of years younger than him let’s say between 5-7 years for our sake but i feel like you gotta be old enough to drink for this man to consider

be prepared to be courted

like properly taken out on dates, sent flowers, constant calls, and check-ins

you’ll never be left on the dark with this man

never opening a door around him i am convinced

i saw someone say he’d keep his hands on your waist as someone’s passing by to move you and ugh yes

lowkey dads you

will straight up scold you if you’re being a brat or doing something risky

sometimes he’s a little too mature for your liking, you’re upset and just looking for an argument and he doesn’t argue. he wants to communicate- you’ve never had that before and it’s foreign

he can be impatient about detrimental things, childish things, but he’s always patient with you

or tries to be patient… will always listen to you ramble and try to see it from your side. but he’s like wow that’s such an immature way of thinking and just has to deal with it

i imagine if you vape it pisses him off sm he’ll just rip it out of your hand and scold you idk why i had this thought

you’re literally his perfect girl

he adores you in every way

calls you dear and honey

always walks behind you when going up stairs so no one looks at your ass

always brings a jacket when you two go out, regardless if he needs it because you always do even when you insist you don’t

he’ll go to the bar with you and your friends ofc if you ask, but he’ll feel out of place. he’s more of the fine establishments type person where everyone’s dressed up and that’s where he’d prefer to spend his time off with you besides home

loves spoiling you

loves watching you get flustered as you’re not used to it- pretty jewelry and bags make you red in the face

you’re just always trying to tell him you don’t need all that stuff like you’re good!

friends joke he’s your sugar daddy (he borderline likes it too)

you’re a civilian as i can see him needing a constant to come home to

loves when you are just hanging out and you lay your head on his lap so he can play with your hair and keep you close

but that means you’re stuck worrying a lot

sometimes turns into him having to console you and support you over his career more so than anything else

which you feel so guilty but you’re too young to deal with the emotions and be able to set them aside to support him

but you try- like shoulder massages after a hard job, sitting with him in silence until he’s ready to talk

you see him all bloody once as he had a tough job, gojo got you from school (pls why do i see you being a grad student) or work

and you’re traumatized seeing him beat up like that- he’d wait days sometimes to see you again to rid of major injuries

you don’t know how to handle it. you don’t know if you can handle it but you love him

sometimes the age gap does take its toll on both of you

you still love going out, drinking, making dumb decisions not ready for the real world whereas he’s cynical about life, works tirelessly

i would say that’s where all the arguments stem from

his frustration with your actions and lack of care towards yourself. you can barely cook to save your life, you hardly do laundry, and you’re deathly hungover when he wants to get breakfast

why doesn’t he want to get black out drunk with you? he doesn’t want to go to girls night? or why is he still at work late? you’ll blame gojo for that one

it probably forces y’all to sit down and really talk about what you both want out of the relationship

which is each other

i wanna write so much age gap stuff for him

nsfw

dom! pleasure dom like always complimenting you and singing you praise about how good you feel

if he’s your first- he’ll take that very seriously

gentle with you like you’d break in his arms

walks you through everything he’s doing

preps you so perfectly, making you finish with his tongue before he even touches you, is very big on foreplay always

is more for your pleasure than his own

large :)

stretches you out, your gasping for him as you grasp his biceps

calls you princess in bed

“such a good girl.”

“so tight for me.”

“you like that?”

“feel so good around my cock.”

“c’mon princess, come for me.”

teases you so much, has you begging for him to fuck you, touch you, let you finish

king of aftercare with baths and cuddles aw

[dorimena]

I seriously love Bakugou and Todoroki. Especially Bakugou in his tight winter costume in S5. And I love Dom reader and femdom more than a sub. Can I pleaseee request Todoroki or Bakugou where the reader is recording them playing with a vibrator or dildo but get overstimulated because they can't cum from the cock ring because it's their punishments since they forgot their anniversary so reader also forget to stop the toys even if they beg reader to stop in the camera.if you don't mind the request

I don’t mind~ May your sin be forgiven with this prayer (˘⌣˘人) This sounds really, really sexy, so I had a blast imagining and putting this into words.

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki & todoroki shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, sex toys (dildo, vibrators, cockring), overstimulation, cam sex (recording), exhibitionism, semi-public, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; balcony sex (?), threesome, whiny Bakugou, weeping Todoroki, punishment, orgasm denial, aged-up characters, Bakugou and Todoroki are both 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; Unravel Me by Sabrina Claudio and Fuck Love by XXXTENTACION ft. Trippie Reid somehow helped me piece this together. Sorry if there are any typos! It’s not proofread.

𝕯𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊

“I-I-”

“W-we! We-”

You watch as both men struggle to speak, trying to ask for forgiveness, once again. It’s the fourth time this hour, the way Bakugou tries to open his mouth wide enough to not slur his words and Todoroki tries to correct Bakugou while keeping himself coherent.

It’s cute how the smartest guys in your life seem to fail miserably in having a decent human conversation

Well, you can’t blame them either, not with the way you keep toying around with the intensity of the vibrators taped to their dicks, cum drying on the toy enough to show anyone who looks up on the balcony that these two men, with such stature and muscles, are easily falling apart.

“Speak better, sweethearts. Can’t have you guys sounding so dumb on camera, right?”

Oh yeah, and you’re even recording them, in case anyone else would want to watch the rising proheros break.

You’re not actually going to show them to the public, but maybe to their friends. Maybe Kirishima would like to watch? Kaminari? Sero? Or maybe Iida? Midoriya?

Heck, the girls might even ask some day.

But you know what makes you curious about showing this video to their friends?

The way both Bakugou and Todoroki are presenting themselves beautifully, as if they’re pro porn stars saving the wanks rather than proheros saving the day.

It’s cute, how Bakugou’s puffing his muscular chest in the air as if they were the juiciest tits ever, which they are, and how Todoroki is somehow sensually humping the air with every buzz against his furious red tip.

Your eyes stay on the screen, making sure the lighting is entering nice enough to make it seem like they’re glowing, other than their post-orgasm glow.

How many times have they come by now?

“Babes, how many times have you cum?”

They both shake their heads.

Of course they wouldn’t know. They just take what they’re receiving. They’re making up for their mistake.

You still pout, tapping the touchable screen to even out the weird lighting as another cloud covers the sun, again.

Maybe giving their punishment out on the balcony wasn’t such a good idea.

As you look down to the floor below them, seeing the once growing puddle of cum slowly be pushed by the wind to trail off towards the side of the balcony, seeping through the small opening and probably dripping feets below is what keeps you positive, happy knowing people will eventually look up and wonder ‘what the fuck is going on?’

Well, either the drying cum gives away your dirty activities or it’s Todoroki’s wailing as an orgasm is ripped out of him forcibly.

Pity nothing comes from his tip, not since some time ago.

They both thought they deserve to cum and be satisfied?

Maybe you should’ve put the cock rings on them before making them come the first two times, but their reactions and frustration with how little some cum leaves or how their body reacts with the dry convulsions makes you giggle in pride.

Pretty babes.

“Todoroki, shut up. You’ll make the neighbors look over- oh! Oh, that’s what you want? I understand.”

And poor Todoroki is just shaking his head way too fast, enough to give him whiplash, but you just snicker as you reach over to a white box.

An unfamiliar white box.

Bakugou’s eyeing Todoroki in pity, wondering what the other will have to endure as he keeps trying to fight off his orgasm.

How he’s doing it, he has no clue. But god his dick hurts.

He’s been wanting to cum for the past 30 minutes, but with the way he resents this stupid cock ring, he’d rather not humilliate himself in front of you and figure out how else to please you.

Maybe he should offer to eat you out?

The way his body is super tense and his breathing is shallow doesn’t escape your attention, less how much pity is showing itself on his face as he shakes his face in disapproval with Todoroki’s recent dry orgasm.

Good thing you invested in this double dildo.

Neither of the boys take notice with how you’re lubing the dildo that looks like it’d belong to you. It’s quite pretty, long and thick enough to hopefully please your boys.

Even if they won’t get to cum.

“Bakugou,” you start, smiling as you watch his once bright eyes suddenly darken as shock takes over his face.

What the

“Fuck is that?!” He yells out, accidentally letting his body relax as it finally submits to the vibrations of the toy, his yell turning into an unbroken series of high-pitched moans, his hips losing control with how incredibly close he is.

“A double dildo, baby. Look! It even looks like if I’d be fucking you two, isn’t that fun?”

Bakugou shakes his head, gasping ‘no, no, no!’ before he falls forward, balancing himself with his palms as he sobs through his first dry orgasm. Maybe he shouldn’t have held back for so long, not with the way his body unforgivably goes through waves of pure unsatisfied pleasure.

Todoroki, meanwhile, is nodding eagerly, eyes welling up in happy tears at the idea of getting fucked, in getting more pleasure and love from you, even if this is meant to be punishment.

But, why are you exposing them like this?

They forgot your anniversary.

Your 3rd anniversary as a throuple, the anniversary Bakugou swallowed his bite and pride to confess to you how much he loves you and how he’s falling in love with Todoroki too; the anniversary Todoroki finally let loose the dam of emotions and even if a bit tipsy, agreed he too was falling in love with both you and Bakugou, how he hasn’t ever felt so understood, so loved, so safe.

So, yeah, how dare they forget?

But if they wanna be dumb, you’ll help with that.

It’s been a while now since you’ve turned off the vibrators and since you’ve prepped them well enough to take the dildo together.

The scene in front of you is gorgeous, ethereal, sublime.

You just want to ruin them like this everyday.

“Aagh! Ugh! F-fuck! Sl-slow do-own! Haaah~”

“S-sorry! ‘m s-sorry! Ca-an’t! Nnah…”

It’s cute watching them argue a bit, how Bakugou can’t take how fast Todoroki is fucking himself back on the dildo while also pushing the toy deeper into Bakugou. And Todoroki doesn’t actually look sorry, not with how his eyes keep crossing everytime he manages to get the toy to hit his sweet spot.

He’s trying so hard to win your forgiveness by putting up with this, but it’s kind of sad knowing you’re not going to stop anytime soon, or take off the cockrings.

Not like they know anyways.

Bakugou might’ve known, might’ve noticed, with the way he’s trying to keep this dragging as slow and steady as possible; with the way his precum is struggling to escape the confines the cockring gives; with how much his red and miserably hard dick keeps jumping with every push Todoroki’s ass gives him.

You’re lounging about, resisting the urge to get off to the scene in front of you, or else they’d start begging to let them please you as apologies, and knowing how sentimental this day is for you, you know you’d immediately give in.

But this is punishment for their forgetfulness.

So, as the cherry on top of this cum covered balcony sex sundae, you’ll also forget about them.

It lasted for a while as you got bored with how neither of them seemed to be reaching another orgasm.

If only the dildo had a vibration option.

But the vibrators still taped on their dicks will have to do.

So you turn them back on, and oh would you look at that! The cockrings could also vibrate.

The pleasure-filled scream coming from Bakugou and the cute, drawled whine of your name Todoroki lets out makes you feel grateful for thinking ahead, kinda.

Now both boys are writhing against each other, different ways to let out their desperations and dying need to properly cum manifesting in either rapid fucking on the dildo to simply submitting to the minstruations of the other party.

To put it in better, shorter words, Bakugou took the reigns in fucking the dildo in such rigor and strength that made Todoroki lay on his chest, ass still up as he simply took everything Bakugou kept pushing into him, mouth opened as hiccups and drool escaped. His eyes settle onto your form, watering as more tears gather on his waterline before dropping to the ground his face is resting on.

It feels so good, so, so good he can’t believe this is punishment. Even if he hasn’t been able to properly cum for some time now, he still thinks you’re being nice with them. Must be because of the anniversary that you sadly reminded them of.

He’s trying his best to push back on the dildo, wanting Bakugou to feel just as good as him, just as fucked as him.

And everytime the toy hits him just right, Todoroki sees stars, feels an all too familiar tingly sensation as he tries to grab his dick, but when you turn the vibrator up even more, his hands just lay on the ground, nails raking as he tries gripping on something, anything.

He really, really, really needs to cum. He wants to cum.

Keep being a good boy for you.

But all he gets is a choked sob of your name leaving his mouth as his eyes roll to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed upwards as the strongest orgasm takes over his body, he’d be convinced there’s an earthquake happening. Small whimpers of how much it hurts leaves his mouth soon after, his dick twitching pathetically as it slowly becomes purple, barely a dribble of cum managing to escape.

Bakugou is in no good shape either, loudly moaning and crying out how good you’re fucking him, how he’s taking your cock, how good he is being, to please, please, please let him cum.

But actually cum, to let him contaminate the floor even more with his sperm, to let him taste it even, if that would make you happy and forgive him.

He’s close to wailing by now, hips going impossible faster as he forgets all about poor Todoroki riding out his high.

And the moment you turn on the vibrators intensity, he gets dizzy, breath getting stuck in his throat as his brain tries to process the spiraling of his warm, hot orgasm growing too much, burning him everywhere as if it were lava.

Small sparks sound on his fingertips as he howls and gets hurled into his own orgasm, back arching and head thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks, not with how his mind only cares about how good yet bad this orgasm feels.

Not even how loud his high-pitched wails of how good it feels, how much it hurts, is enough to alarm anyone near the radius of this defiling act.

Both boys are left shuddering or twitching through their intense dry orgasm, the way their bodies react with the built up cum in their dicks, with how hot and how wreckless they’re becoming with their quirks.

Still connected with the dildo, neither move, unless it’s some pathetic hump to help drag the orgasm a little more before they try to even remember what letter your name begins with.

Bakugou’s whimpering.

Todoroki’s crying silently.

Both blinking the haze out of their vision as they remember about the buzzing, about the relentless feeling on their really, really sensitive dicks.

Bakugou’s crying now.

Todoroki’s just busy mewling like a slut by now.

And when they both turn to look at you, they gasp so loudly one of them begins choking on air and the other with saliva.

Where’d you go?!

Come back!

And ‘come back’ and ‘forgive us’ is the only thing anyone could possibly hear for the next few hours as they fuck the dildo and let the vibrators do their job in milking more and more orgasms out of them.

If only they’d look closer, they would’ve seen a post-it note stuck on the tripod of the camera telling them you went to the kitchen and that they better come crawling.

Oh well, you’re enjoying the view anyways as you sip on some liquor of your liking, turning off the vibrators as you slowly walk to the balcony.

The sun’s beginning to set. You’re not that cruel in letting them fuck each other in the cold.

The bedroom is much better, and comfier.

Perfect for you to finish the job and let them finally, finally, get their deserving orgasms.

You’ll be sure to milk out

Every.

Single.

Drop.

[pleasantanathema]

Kenny Ackerman | of Death and Cigars

Pairing: Kenny Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Bloodplay, Blood Tasting, Bloody Bathwater, Biting, Age Gap, Kenny says cunny because of course he would 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Back by popular demand, it’s the dirty old man. This is part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read more fanfics I’m writing to celebrate ❤️

          The warm bathwater was ghoulish, slowly bleeding from pink to red the longer you sat in it.

           At least Kenny didn’t look bad wet. Or bloody, for that matter. But you were used to seeing him caked in crimson, often found stains of it left in the rough patches of his beard. It’s all part of the job, kid. And it was, blood was something you expected out of mercenary work. What you didn’t anticipate was how much you’d enjoy the cleanup, how much you’d take pleasure in sitting between Kenny’s naked legs and let his calloused knuckles wipe someone else’s blood from your skin.

           “Got a little on your mouth,” the water splashed as he raised his hand, swiping at your bottom lip, having to repeat the motion a few times to remove the smear, “what did you fucking do, drink his blood?”

           Your eyes rolled, “I bit him, he was trying to reach around for my knife.”

           Kenny only huffed, flicking water on your face before leaning back and stretching his arms along the edge of the tub. His knuckles popped and his neck cracked as he rolled it, little echoes into the dimly lit room as you fell into silence. You continued to rake a soiled cloth across your arms, most of the water still streaking red over your skin despite your persistence.

           “Got some on your back,” he noted, and you could feel his eyes on you, burning spots into your spine.

           “Well, wipe it off. Isn’t that what you’re here for? To ‘wash my back’?”

           “Nah, I’m just here to look at you naked.”

           You groaned, attempting to reach around to your back to clean, fingers aching from the reach. Kenny watched you struggle for a bit before swatting your hand away, gathering the rag in his fist so he could scrub rather brutishly at the elusive plane between your shoulder blades.

           The embarrassment of being naked around him had washed away after the first few times you performed this ritual. It was just easier to get clean this way, and you didn’t particularly enjoy waiting for him to bathe first just so you could step into ice cold, murky water. Plus, there were some nights when he was actually tender, started to open up withered petals in the sun and talk about his past whenever he’d had too much to drink before sitting in the water.

           You glanced over your shoulder at him, not bothering to hide your curiosity as your eyes flickered over his features. His long hair clung to his shoulders, wrinkles pulled around his mouth from where he held it to the side in concentration. His lean shoulders were freckles from days in the sun, muscles in his arms rolling as he attempted to wash away the scarlet splotches from your skin.

           He’d taught you how to slaughter people in his own gruesome, throat-splitting way. He’d hand picked you for the Anti-Personnel Control squad—said he saw something vicious in you, and maybe he did.

           “Don’t look at me with those big eyes, kid. You’re gonna make my cock hard.”

           “Your cock’s already hard.”

           “Then maybe you should clean that next. Sure your mouth would do better than a rag.”

           You mumbled something about him being disgusting, but kept most of it trapped in your throat. His hands felt particularly good kneading into your back. Not to mention the last time you’d been too sassy with him, he let you go to bed bloody. You reeked of iron for days.

           You stood in the tub, carefully posturing your feet around his outstretched legs, keeping your back to him as you stretched and prepped to leave. But as you turned to the side, you caught a glimpse of blood in his hairline, something he never thinks about since he’s always in his fucking hat.

           “There’s—ugh fuck it,” you knelt back down, caging his thighs with your own so you could sit in his lap and work at chipping away at the dried, grimy substance with your nails.

           “Now that’s more like it,” he unabashedly moved his hands to your waist, long fingers skimming upward to brush the underside of your breasts, “shame you have to keep these pretty tits covered all day.”

           “You’re such a fucking pervert.”

           “Hey, you agreed to bath time with dear old Kenny.”

           He had a point, but you didn’t have to explain yourself. Not to him.

           You kept having to tilt his chin up and away from staring at your chest so you could weave your fingers into the surprisingly thick strands of hair. Droplets started forming at his forehead from your actions, water turning red as it absorbed the remnants of a very dirty and very busy night.

           “You feel good in my lap,” he hummed, rocking you forward so you could feel just how much he meant with it with the cock straining against his stomach. You attempted to lift yourself away from him, but he only pulled you closer, brought your breasts up to his face so he could lick the water away from one of your nipples. You hated the jolt of pleasure that raced down your skin at the lewd touch, biting your tongue avoid any untoward sound slipping out.

           Kenny repeated the action when you didn’t pull away, this time his tongue flat, placing a long, hot stripe over your nipple and over the curve of your breast.

           “Stop that.”

           “Do you really want me to?”

           He didn’t give you the chance to answer, instead enveloped your hardened peak with his warm mouth. You shivered at the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin, the hands in his hair pulling him toward you instead of pushing away. He smirked against your tit, tip of tongue circling your nipple until he finally heard you moan. It was the faintest sound, one you barely recognized came from your mouth, but he heard it.

           His hand on your hip sunk lower under the water line, thumb tracing the inside of your thigh, creeping closer to the one place he hadn’t dared to touch before. Well, that wasn’t quite true; he’d attempted once before, but you scratched his wrist so hard that he bled. This time you didn’t bother to stop him, the curiosity of what his fingers would feel like nearly killing you.

           “Bet you’ve got a real tight cunny, don’t you?”

           “Kenny—” you scold stopped mid-breath as his middle finger brushed your clit, pushing farther back to probe at your tight hole. He started sucking at your breast, taking the fat in between his teeth as he groaned at the feeling of your folds against his hand.

           You were glad you couldn’t see the delight in his eyes when you sat deeper into his lap, urging his fingers to explore further, to press up inside you just so you could know how it felt. He obliged your silent request, sinking his finger into your heat and feeling the moan that reverberated from your chest.

           It felt good, and he knew just how to curl his knuckle, how to swipe his thumb against your clit in the same motion to have your head falling back. Your hips rolled against your better judgement, encouraging him to nestle a second finger inside of you, pumping them both and stretching you apart.

           “Yeah you like that, don’t you? Little whore likes her cunny stuffed.”

           “If only I could stuff your fucking mouth.”

           “Next time.”

           You weren’t sure if it was frustration or ecstasy that trickled down your back and settled in your stomach, but you didn’t care, not when his fingers started pushing a little harder. Kenny’s lips started to make a trail up your chest, messy, wet kisses that had your skin burning under his beard. He stopped at your neck, wicked tongue daring to lap at the bloody water that pooled against your collarbone.

           “Fuck I can’t take this teasing shit. Sit on my cock.”

           Demands from him weren’t uncommon, he was your superior, after all, but this one had your cheeks flushing. You gasped when he uncurled his fingers from inside of you, shaking his wrist under the water like he was cleaning them. Your hands fell down to his shoulders, nails pressing into the muscled sinews as you lowered yourself just like he told you to.

           You tried to look away from him as you felt his cockhead breach that first ring of muscle, your cunt too willingly sucking him in, but he caught your jaw, making you look down at him. His grey eyes were always piercing, like they were cutting through you like a knife twisting in flesh, and this time was no different. It was like he was looking through you, reading the jumbled thoughts rolling in your head as you started to sink down his length.

           A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, “You’ve still got a little blood on your lips. Let me clean that for you.”

           His kiss was rough, assertive, mouth slanting against yours in a mixture of control and desperation. For a moment, you thought not to kiss him back, a metallic flash of crimson hitting your tongue signaling that he was, indeed, telling the truth. But your mouth opened of its own will when his lengthy cock finally bottomed out inside of you.

           One of his hands looped around the back of your neck, crushing your mouth against his as he started to rock you in his lap. You felt startlingly full, cock spreading your insides as you started to move with him.

           A small pang of disgust hit you when his tongue snaked into your mouth, but you washed that down with the taste of him, with the taste of blood and tobacco, of death and cigars.

           Your clit was sliding perfectly against the thatch of wiry black curls at the base of his cock, pleasure brewing in your pussy and traveling to your fingers, your toes. When he pulled away from your lips, his tongue licked at your cheek before he started to bounce you harder in his lap. Bloodstained water sloshed from the edges of the tub, sinking into the grout and tiles.

           “I’ve come in my hand so many times thinking about you, kid.” He laughed at the look on your face from his confession. “Ain’t gonna take me long to cum inside this pretty little pussy.”

           “God I fucking hate you,” you hissed, but you kept up the pace, feeling that rather blissful and dreadful pull of orgasm.

           “That so? Then why’re you just getting tighter around me? Feels like you like my cock.”

           You didn’t have the effort for a retort, your head falling to his shoulder as you began to ride him harder, ready to cum and go dwell in the shame afterwards.

           Kenny was panting, clearly enjoying himself as his big hands groped at your ass, helping you slide along his cock under the water. You hated that he smelled good, hated that he felt good, hated that he knew exactly what he was doing, pulling your cheeks apart and making you spread and used.

           “Bite me.”

           You almost didn’t hear him over your own whimpers, gritting out a simple, “What?”

           “You h-heard me, kid. Bite me like you did that fucker earlier. Wanna see what it feels like.”

           It was an opportunity you weren’t going to pass up. You caught your breath, blinking your eyes for a second so you could see straight through the haze of pleasure. You chose the tender spot between neck and shoulder, sinking your teeth into his tawny skin slowly, putting pressure on your canines so he’d feel that thrill of pain.

           He moaned so loudly it actually made you flush, made your ears burn from how lewd it sounded. It spurred you to bite harder, to sink so deep into flesh that you felt his own blood slip past your lips.

           The pulsing of his cock made you see colors, made you gasp and release his shoulder and nearly double over from the euphoria that rippled through your body. He stopped moving, but your body still shook, slapped with a climax you didn’t expect just from feeling cum pour inside your cunt, from feeling his cock twitch and throb and explode inside you. You spasmed around him, brows pinching together as you tried to come back to your senses.

           You supposed he wasn’t kidding about not going to last long, you just felt embarrassment creep over your psyche at the fact that you’d fallen right behind him, wasting away in his lap.

           After a few moments, you finally sat back, groaning at that too-full feeling of still having him inside of you. You gripped his jaw like he did yours earlier, bringing him back to life to look up at you.

           “You can have your blood back,” you slid your messy mouth against his, both of you moaning a little too deeply as you shared his taste between your tongues.

[mickey-henry]

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.

author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖

Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong. 

Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his  fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever. 

You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.

“Pass me the salt?”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker. 

“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you. 

It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”

“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.

“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you. 

“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—” 

He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless. 

You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”

Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”

You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival. 

“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.

“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”

“Of course,” answers Steve. 

“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam. 

You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”

You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing. 

You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”

“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles. 

You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter. 

“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds. 

“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“

“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.

“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes. 

Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”

“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”

“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,

Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”

“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.

Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin. 

“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks. 

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“We’re listening.”

You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up. 

“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement. 

“You think this will work?”

“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”

“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”

“Will you be my duet partner?”

This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...

“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles. 

Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”

“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand. 

Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back. 

Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”

“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."

He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?

Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.

“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”

You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”

You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”

He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers. 

“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.

“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.

[someonedm]

It was an inconvenience, really. Jane didn't want to be here, and neither did I. She had all her friends to be with, chatting and quacking about things I had nothing to do with. And I had... my alone time, I guess. Sweet, quiet, alone time.

But things didn't go out as planned. Jane got suspended, for being a bitch, and when school said she couldn't go to the field trip, she called her rich parents who got it all sorted out. But room arrangements were already made, which landed her right here, with me.

I suppose we both made the best out of it. She spent her time with her girls, while I had a blast going through social media. But, when bedtime finally arrived, we couldn't avoid it. We have to stay together in the same room.

She steps out of the shower, her wet hair dripping drops of water onto the floor. She turns to me with annoyance. "What are you looking at?"

I hadn't noticed I was staring at her until her remark, and it caught me off by surprise. "Oh. I just-yeah." I got in the shower. "Good thing you are finally washing, don't know if I could sleep with you stinking out the room." She said it so incidentally, not caring about if it'd hurt me or not. The kind of effort someone puts in a "congrats" message in a group chat.

Coming out of the shower, I find her still standing there, looking at her own reflection in the mirror. Seeing me, she swiftly turned to her toothbrush, trying to hide the self-absorbance this entails.

Her eyes, reflecting from the mirror, look tired. Her skin is dotted with little imperfections. Her mouth, which I was so used to see lie on a self-assured smirk, was curved down. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and we could both see her.

Perhaps she was thinking of another insult, perhaps she didn't mind my blank stare, but I noticed her relentlessness as she offered me a moisturizing cream. "You want some?"

"no, thanks."

She went back to her bed silently. She was no longer wearing her popular girl persona. We were both tired and just wanted to sleep.

After finishing my prep up, I too went back to my bed. I stretched my arm into my bag, fishing out a flask. I waved the flask in front of jane. "You want some?"

"Where'd you got this?" She laughed, reaching out her hand to take the flask.

"Stole it from my mom's cabin."

She gave it to me back. "Won't she be pissed at you?"

I gulped some of the scotch. "No way. She must've noticed it was gone as soon as I left. If she cared for me I would have heard from her way too long ago."

"Aaah." She yelped. "Sorry for asking".

"First time?" I asked with a full grin, unable to hide my satisfaction with the situation.

"You think?"

"You goody two shoes got yourself detained recently, so I don't know what to think."

"Hell nah. The first time was eighth grade. My ex's brother organized a party and snuck in booze. They said they would have got me with them, cause I looked a lot older than I was. I think that that sentence was why I took that first glass." She sighed, and I knew she has something weighing on her, but she stopped herself from speaking. "What about you?"

"My mom thinks that my first time was when she gave me, after he- after he- uhhh... yeah. It was a bad night for her, and she couldn't give any shit. I had to act like it was all new to me, as if I hadn't had one of those after other nights. I am not a great actress, but I did have a drunk and tired audience." I looked up to her, and noticed she too had a hard time looking in my eyes. "Forget about me. What about your party? Your ex??" I raised my eyebrows repeatedly, and it got a chuckle out of her.

"I'd rather not talk about him." She smiled, though it was a sad smile. "But since we are discussing firsts... well, me and Tyler. Homecoming party."

"Tyler, huh? never thought he was your type!"

"What do you think my type is?" she asked, intrigued by my statement.

"I thought you liked your boys strong and sassy. The kind of jock smart enough so you won't have to actually tutor him during your 'study sessions'. Not some theater student exchange kid!"

I laughed, but she didn't seem to like it. "Do you really think of me like that? That I'm that basic?"

I looked her in the eyes. Even after knowing how she looked without her makeup, she seemed so tired. The kind of tired that stems from frustration, rather than lack of sleep. Jane cared a lot about how people think of her, even if those people were outcasts like me. "If you want me to be sincere" she nodded. "Yes."

Her soft smile faded. "I guess I should go to sleep, then."

"Wait, I am sorry. Why don't you tell me about Tyler?"

"Okay, but, I can't promise to be awake to finish."

"Consider me an elephant. I am all ears." I gestured with my hands curved, extending my ears.

"He is smart, and funny, and kind - I thought he was kind. He helped me learn for history, and we actually did study, unlike what you were guessing. He said how he missed his friends at home, and I thought it was really sweet. I felt safe with him, that he cared for me. I think he did - I wasn't just a popular girl to achieve. He made it clear, romantic gesture after romantic gesture, and when homecoming came I offered him myself. And it was all great going forward, up until Christmas break. He finally had a chance to go back home and insisted I'd stay home with my family. He ghosted me all that time, including a week after he got back. Then he confronted me. Apparently, he was having a long-distance relationship with whom I thought was his ex, and they had sex when he came back for his visit. Said he loved me but that she won't let him be with me.

So I got a little basic, and invited one of the jocks to have rebound sex in his car. While his girlfriend was over."

I chuckled. "I am sorry. What you went through is terrible. But god damn is that a good way to get back at someone, you magnificent bastard."

"I am glad I am amusing you." I couldn't decipher the look on her face, resting for a split second, before turning back to gossip. "So, who's your first?"

"I had a first- yeah uh I definitely had one."

A malicious smile sneaked onto her face. "No, you didn't."

I held the palm of my hand at the back of my head and looked down in shame. "No, I didn't."

A familiar sense of vanity came from her. "Doesn't matter. Who'd you kissed?"

I wanted to lie, but instead, I hid my face in the palms of my hands, hiding from her glare. "I uh - I hadn't kissed anyone yet."

"Well, that's such a shame! I bet many boys like you. You just don't notice them, that's all."

This comment, coming from her, caught me off by surprise. I had anticipated some sassy, if not outright a bit mean remark. "Really? You think that? Cause you kinda sound like my mom."

I guess I shook her a bit too, cause the sass was quick to come. "I'm sure of it. You know how boys are - they lust after anyone they think they have a chance with."

"Ahh, there it is. Should I take it as a compliment?" I smiled softly. "Cause I'm not hurt."

Her eyes widened for a moment. "No I- I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it like that - Ugh, nevermind." She rubbed her eyes. It was late. "If you want me to, I can help you get any boy you'd like. Who you've got your eyes on?"

I was starting to feel uncomfortable, but I couldn't tell what about this innocent question was so jarring. "I don't know. I never thought about it."

She leaned forward on her bed. "Tell me your type, then, since we already talked about mine."

"You must guess first."

She looked me deep in the eyes, assesing how I looked. She then turned her head to the flask. I imagine she was going through what I've told her, trying to make a sense of me.

"You like shy artsy boys that keep to themselves. You get tired of the enthusiazm of other people, even if it's about things you like, so it's nice having someone who's more quiet, like you. But you also want him to be more emotional than you, cause if it was left up to you, you'd be scared of the relationship falling apart. Did I get it right?"

Her description felt off. It wasn't insulting or arrogant, and I couldn't tell what exactly was incorrect, but it felt wrong.

"I... I don't know." I knew what I wanted to say, and it made me anxious. I could feel the saliva getting stuck in my throat. "I like someone who's sarcastic and witty, and doesn't open up, so when they finally talk earnestly it feels like winning a prize. Someone who cares so much about how other people see them, that they take off their hand crafted mask just for you, and seeing them that way, they are only ever more beautiful."

My gaze drifted away from her as I spoke, and I couldn't bare to see how she had reacted.

"I am tired." Her voice finally broke the silence.

"Me too. I don't want to stop talking to you."

"Me too."

The vision of that flask felt burned in my memory as I thought about reaching out and taking another sip. I couldn't sleep, and perhaps more alcohol in my blood stream meant stopping to think. I couldn't stopped thinking, and it paralized me. Images ran in my mind, thoughts and ideas being intrusive, and I had no help in silencing them.

The steady rhythm of her breath calmed me down, but as I focused on it the intrusive thoughts only grew.

"Hey." Her voice was quite, almost a whisper.

"Can't sleep?" I answered, with the same crooked tone.

"No."

Her breath is still slow and calm, but I can feel my own heart pounding faster. I wonder if she can hear it beat from beyond my skin.

"When you talked about the type of person you like.

You weren't talking about a boy, right?"

I turned my head to face the wall, watching the creaks, trying to make them absorb my thoughts and visions. I knew she would hate me for it, and the thought of being honest made breathing almost impossible.

"No."

I listened the rumble of her bed sheets, and her light steps on the floor, and my squeaking bed as she set on its other edge. Tears filled my eyes and I swallowed the saliva down my throat.

"Was it about me?"

I rose up on my end of the bed, looking at her being the most difficult thing I have ever done. I couldn't see her clearly through my tears, but I knew she was absolutely beautiful.

"Yes."

She reached out her soft hands around the back of my head, leaning closer and kissing me.

I was surprised and uncomfortable but I loved every moment her tender lips touched mine.

I parted away, breathing heavily as I only now felt relieved. I sounded like a wailing baby, and I must have looked like one when I wiped off my tears that continued to come.

She sat there, holding herself. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable... I didn't..."

I braced her as hard as I could. We kissed again, now calm between each other's arms, trading our air between our body and stopping only when we had to. We cherished each other's beauty, finding comfort in each other's eyes.

She laid her head on my lap, and I caressed her hair. "I don't want to leave you."

"Me neither." I leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I want to hold you until dawn. But the bed is too small."

She woke up and went to bed, and it dawned on me how tired I am. As we both lay in our separate cushions, she lends her hand towards mine, and I hold hers.