#he can't just sit with his head out of water all the time
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curtins · 2 days ago
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taking a shower with the jujutsu kaisen men
gojo — despite what his no.1 hater says (gege) i'm telling you and promising you that he showers daily. trust me when i say his white hair is fluffy fresh. spends way too long in the shower and you get a bit bored because he's hyping himself in the mirror beforehand (who's the strongest? you are!). uses a fancy, overpriced shampoo that smells like tropical fruits but leaves the cap off each time. has broken 2-3 waterproof speakers before. once bought a waterproof phone case to scroll his phone in the shower, but ended up getting distracted on tiktok until the water went cold. his bathroom looks like a high end salon, more products than an influencer. leaves little hearts in the condensation on the mirror
nanami — you have your regular showers with nanami, but he's really more of a bath guy i think. like i'm saying a glass of wine and a candle. if he doesn't like you or your name is gojo satoru, then interrupting him here will result in the worst lecture you've ever heard in your life, but if he likes enough, he'll let you sit on the edge of the bath with him and talk about your day. the most pristine bathroom of all time, it's literally a spa. you once asked if his shower head was imbued with cursed energy, because it's just that precise and perfect. very possessive about his towels.
geto — definitely the type to stand under the shower and waste the hot water. this is mainly because he can't help but monologue about his philosophy for too long, and by then, you've hopped out and left him there. the most perfect cherry-blossom floral scented shampoo is the only thing that can touch his thick, glossy hair. his hair is probably stuck to the shower wall a lot, but he tries to blame it on you. weirdly eclectic shower playlists that range from ominous, chanting ballads to 2000s boybands because he claims he's a man with layers.
toji — for a man with a kinda gross job (like assassination isn't all that great right...) he smells good. but that depends on who you ask, because sometimes the scent of cologne is so strong, you feel a little nauseous. prob uses a 3-1 body wash, shampoo and conditioner because its 'all the same anyway.' this makes you cry! spends about three minutes in the shower each time, and then leaves without even drying himself, soaking wet and rawdogging the world. once got a bathrobe as a gift and tried it on for fun, but now uses it all the time when he's lounging around to eat takeout.
sukuna — once asked you to join him for a bath, and you agreed. let's just say you took a big step back when you realises why the bathwater was a thick, gloopy red. you once gave him rubber duckies as a present and he pretended to hate them and gagged. you caught him lining them up in military formation along the edges of the bathtub for 'reasons that aren't your concern.' ended up almost coughing a lung out after accidentally ingesting one too many bubbles. hates most modern inventions but enjoys a good loofah.
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cherie-doll · 1 day ago
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Hellu, could you maybe do a drabble or hc or whatever you feel comfortable with, of the cod men reacting to reader being in a car crash??
(I was just in a car crash, my head hurts, I’m coping 💀)
If not then that’s okay ❤️❤️
my goodness, are you okay dear?? ૮ ㅇㅁㅇ ྀིა
𓏲 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto
🝮 Price finally got some downtime to rest and catch up on his sleep debt at home. You insisted he stay home while you go to the grocery store only a few blocks away. Now imagine how his body tenses and he's up from the recliner in a heartbeat the moment he receives the phone call about your accident. He's supposed to drop the tense and hard face off while he's at home with you but this is worse. He's trying to keep calm on the surface but a can of worries within, just wanting to spill out. Thankfully, the accident didn't result in fatalities nor major injuries. He's holding you and checking you all over, listening to everything you're saying. Does something hurt? Feel dizzy? Need water? He's taking you right home, don't worry about the wrecked car.
🝮 Simon's mood when he picks up the phone initially is that he's annoyed, his answering "yes?" is a little sharp because you had just had a small argument over him once again not paying attention to the list of items you insisted he take when grocery shopping but didn't. So now you had to pause everything and go get the thing yourself, which means he'd have to wait at least another hour before he could eat dinner. Your voice over the phone was weak and scared, your frail voice that barely answered because your mind was all over the place and fading. You couldn't think straight after the crash. Simon dropped everything and staying on call with you made it faster than the cops would've. He carried you out of the car and cradled your body in his arms even in the ambulance, all the while muttering lowly how reckless you could be and how stupid and idiotic he was for letting you drive while mad. He swears he'd never let it happen again.
🝮 Johnny wasn't expecting you to answer with "was in a car crash" to "how was your day?" Like why are you telling him just now that you're arriving home. He gets off the couch he's by your side in an instant. Why didn't you call him? Because you thought it was nothing big? He almost thinks you're bluffing, why he can't help but assume the worst or imagine a terrible accident. You're sitting down this instant and- did you go to the hospital? And if you did he's surprised they just let you walk out. You argue back that you barely got a bruise but he insists you're going again and getting an examination done just in case. You have to tell him these things else he'll have a hard time letting you go out alone again.
🝮 The only thing Kyle knew was that you'd be hanging out with friends. And that's how it was supposed to be, he could expect you to come home late in the evening or maybe nearing night. But the clock marked the midnight hour and you hadn't walked through the front door yet; very unusual of you. He paced the living room from one wall to the other, he had the right to be worried so he wasn't being a controlling nor clingy partner if he just wanted to know where you were past midnight. The worry only increased when he called and it went straight to voicemail. Okay, maybe your phone died. And he kept trying to come up with plausible reasons as to why you weren't home yet when the bell rang and he threw the door open to a distressed looking friend of yours explaining the car accident you had been caught up in. You were conscious when taken away but in pain, your friend was still explaining this when Kyle grabbed his shoes and was already walking to the driveway.
🝮 Roach and you frequented bars pretty often and usually took a cab home. You hadn't had more than one drink however and decided to drive home while he dozed off in the backseat. He woke up to the sound of tires screeching and before he could make out what was happening his body was jerked and thrown forward. Groaning and rubbing his neck he called your name only for you to weakly respond. A soft gasp left his lips followed by his fingers reaching out to the bleeding gash, blood staining his fingertips. When he called emergency services and had you taken to the hospital, the cops has questioned how the accident happened and he was ready to take the blame on insisting you drive despite both having consumed alcohol. He knew there wasn't any other believable lie he could sputter, surely the one drink you'd had would show up on the tests.
🝮 Alejandro didn't think it'd ever happen to you. An accident bad enough that you had to be taken to the hospital? He's there as fast as he possibly could get there. He ignores the nurses who are trying to tell him that you're okay for the most part, just a little shaken. But he's checking you all over and almost loses it when he sees a bruise, demanding for the doctor. It takes you forcibly holding him back and holding his head so he can meet your eyes and see that you're fine, you're not in severe pain. From now on you're not driving anywhere alone because he doesn't another scare like that to happen again.
🝮 Rudy is worried sick when you insisted on driving the last stretch of the way home, at night too. Your driving skills are passable during the day but at night it can be difficult to tell from the high beams of other car's lights flashing at you. When you tried braking at a stop sign you saw last minute, due to the ice already forming on the road the car didn't come to a complete stop and nearly skid off the road. His hand instinctively reaches across to hold against your body, making sure you don't fly forward despite you having the seatbelt on. It's just instinct for him to protect you in every situation. He gets off, running over to your side and the time doesn't matter anymore. He'll sit out on the hood of the car however long you need to recover from the close call until you're ready to go back home. Except he's not letting you drive.
🝮 Phillip was waiting at a second location for you to come pick him up after his car was getting fixed for something. He wouldn't have bothered you but the repair shop was half an hour drive away, something was just bound to happen. And he doesn't realize this because his mind is so preoccupied with the petty shop owner over what was the problem with his truck that when his phone rings and he picks up he sounds a little mad, not at you though. Soon he hears a dispatcher's voice instead of yours his mind goes to the worst place. Don't know where he gets the car from but he's speeding down the highway praying that you're fine and he gets to you. But he gets there and sees you sitting on a strip of grass off to the side of the mess and holding an ice pack to your head.
🝮 Makarov is hiring a chauffeur to drive you everywhere and anywhere you need from here on out and finding out who was the idiot who rammed into the back of your car while at a stoplight. He can't believe you didn't ask the other driver for their information, doesn't matter though, he'll get the information later. Maybe you should quit going out altogether, no? Okay it was worth a try, whatever you want. From now on you have to promise to not ever get into an accident ever again. "How am I supposed to control tha-"
🝮 Keegan didn't freak out after you told him you just veered off the main road and were now stuck in some rundown road. He calmly gathered whatever tools he thought he might need and started his truck. The scene he encounters when he arrives is somewhat off, you're waving him over, sitting on the hood of your car with a sheepish smile. He walks around the car and finds the dent on the side and back of the car. And before he can ask what the hell happened- shit, you're bleeding? You're going to have to start from the beginning if you don't want him ignoring your requests and taking you to the emergency room instead.
🝮 König left the car parked with you waiting for him in the passenger seat, and when he came back he sees his car in pieces, absolutely destroyed from a car speeding off the road and ramming into the side. He panics, tries to pry the door open to get to you, even breaks a window before you're tapping him from behind. "I'm right here" He turns around, lifts you off the ground and lets out a sigh of relief. He seriously thought he would have to search through the wrecked car for you. How had you even gotten out? You saw stray cat and got out before the car had been hit. But now you have to be the one worrying over König's hand and forearm which has glass embedded.
🝮 Horangi blames himself for the car crash. He wanted to teach you to drift because you'd seen how he does it and you're eager to nail it too. Things escalate rather quickly and it's no longer a smooth Saturday drive when you loose control and drive off the road, the tires slipping onto the grass and slamming sideways into a tree. He's holding your head, not knowing if you're got knocked out unconscious or not, but his mind doesn't fully register the bigger dent is on the rear doors not the driver nor passenger side. With one hand he's holding your head to his chest, his other shaky hand attempting to dial emergency services, feeling faint himself before you come to and look around confused. He's grabbing your face in his hands looking you all over making sure you didn't receive a single bruise.
🝮 You assumed Nikto would be cross if he saw the state his car was in. He was hesitant to let you drive out alone knowing you still went a little hard on your turns and it had been raining frequently. The moment he arrives, you're fixed on his eyes, carefully determining whether he's already thought of what he'd do to you the moment he saw the disaster his car was. But you're surprised and speechless when he strides over to you, silently looks you over, barely assesses the car and just picks you up. "Aren't you mad?" "About what?" "Your car!" And he barely glances at it, shrugs and drives you home.
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meimei-archives · 2 days ago
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BODY PARTY!:: rafe cameron
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WARNING! ::professional boxer! Rafe , blood, fighting, rough sex, marking, slight public sex, manager! reader, man handling, oral.
SUMMARY! :: after yet another win for Rafe you insist on cleaning his cuts after a shower leads to the both of you celebrating in a completely different way than expected.
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You were front row watching Rafe, the smell of sweat and stale concession stand food almost made you feel nauseous if it wasn't for the way he was bouncing on the tips of his feet waiting for his opponent to tap gloves with him, clenching his teeth against his mouth guard showing off his prominent and sharp jawline.
Once and a while you could see his sharp eyes flicker from the referee and the guy he was facing. In the front row dressed all pretty, wearing one of the necklaces he had gifted to you and a cute small dress was you; his manager. He knew people didn't take him seriously because of how polite and pretty you were. They expected easy losses out of him, but if they saw how lenient you were during his training sessions or before his matches they'd understand you weren't just some airhead.
He watched as you gave him a bright smile and a thumbs up. He couldn't help the smirk on his lips. "Who's that? She's something ain't that right Cameron?" His opponent laughed at the sly comment while his greedy eyes never left your figure. Rafe felt his brow twitch at the words "watch your mouth" he said sternly as he felt heat on his skin from sheer annoyance.
"That's your play thing Cameron?" The man asks with a scoff, Rafe knew he was trying to be funny; trying to get to his head, but he's done this way too many times to even let it get under his skin. That wasn't going to stop him from ripping whoever this guy was apart and going back to his hotel with double the money he came in with. Not even bothering to answer him he knocks gloves with him and steps back while the ref signals the bell to chime.
You prepped Rafe for this, he knew what he was getting into when he signed to fight the boy who was about a year or two older than him, he was much newer to fighting in the ring which was just an advantage. But since Rafe had been doing this since he graduated high school he was much more experienced with the fighters, and the atmosphere. You could only count how many losses Rafe has had on one hand and you knew for a fact that Rafe wasn't going to fly all the way from North Carolina to Brooklyn without putting in the work for a show.
The both of them circling around the ring with raised gloves nearing to exchange punches. You could never understand how Rafe took a punch like it was nothing, almost like he enjoyed taking the hits, because it did nothing but push him to hit back harder. Rafe always knew how to get the crowd going, he would fight at least two rounds before absolutely running through his opponent until they gave up or it was a K.O regardless every time he did it he always had a crowd coming back for another fight.
He was on his 2 minute break in between rounds, the cutmen sitting him in his corner as he poured water into his hair and mouth letting the water spill into a metal bucket coming out pink, putting Vaseline on his cuts that were starting to bleed out. Rafe usually would've dropped his opponent by now, he was a shit talker and Rafe just let anything he heard go from one ear out the other, and it was usually the same bullshit.
'You can't fight' or 'your good looks won't save you' and Rafe never took it to heart because it's the same people talking that are being knocked on their ass and being wheeled back to their locker rooms. But this guy, no. He was bringing you into this, and Rafe had no reason to give him any remorse especially when he was being straight up vile and gross.
When they were both called back into the center Rafe could feel the sweat and water build up on his neck and shoulders. Rafe watches his opponent as if he was waiting for the right moment to send him to the ground, holding up his fist damn near ready to pounce on the guy who was just as tall if not a few inches taller than Rafe, blonde and tattoos all over his skin that nobody could miss.
Rafe couldn't miss the smirk on his lips as he sauntered towards him throwing sloppy and lazy punches that were barely even landing "you think your girl would wear that dress for me when I get her in bed?" He asked, huffing out almost slurring his words. Rafe could only clench his fist feeling a wave of straight anger wash over him completely. Cocking his hand back and letting one loose right to the center of the blonde's face he didn't stop as he saw him drop to the floor.
Straddling over his hips Rafe didn't hesitate to keep the hits going, one after the other people in the crowd almost shocked at how he wasn't letting up regardless of how you could tell the man under him was knocked out. "The fuck is he doing? He's gonna throw the match" you could hear Topper just a seat away looking almost stressed watching his friend use his opponent like a personal punching bag.
When the referee pulled at his shoulder Rafe finally pulled away with the deepest glare you've ever seen on his face, his gloves stained a crimson shade as he backed away from the unconscious and bloody man on the floor. Waiting to see if the man could beat a simple 10 count and get back to his feet but failed Rafe's hand was raised in all its glory as they announced his win.
The warm and sticky blood that gathered in small chunks at his hairline, and split lip, and dark bruises on the corner of jaw and the expanse of his back and shoulders began to bloom while sweat was dripping off his body. He stood in the middle of the ring as his publicity team swarmed in with congratulations and after party plans.
Leaving the small barricades that separated the crowd and the ring you find yourself going through the ropes and inside the squared ring filled with your coworkers and friends. Smiling as you near him, the copper smell of blood and hints of sweat filled your lungs as you can feel the mat underneath your feet shake from the jumping and cheering Rafe stood with a similar smile holding open his arms for you to hug him.
Regardless of his sweat seeping through the fabric of your dress or how warm all over you felt under his embrace you mumble words of encouragement "you did good, I'm proud of you. But you gotta stop losing your temper" you shake your head grasping his wrist that rested on your lower back comfortably.
Lifting over both of your heads you both face the crowd with smiles as you knew the both of your faces would be in the tabloids by the next morning, but from all the yelling and talking over other people you could feel a headache coming. Though it didn't matter much as you, Rafe, and the rest of your team decided to retreat back to his locker room.
Being stopped along the way by the press asking him questions, his heavy arm around your waist as he smiles and answers the simple questions, answering a few questions yourself as you hold Rafe's gloves under your arm you could feel his eyes practically burn through you when it was your turn to speak.
The both of you are making into the less busy locker room a few of his friends sticking around to make plans. Rafe sat on the padded bench as he looked at his taped up hands and wrist, he could feel dried up blood building up at his hairline and the small split on the middle of his lip starting to become sore.
You sit down beside him as Kelce and Topper talk about plans of a dinner or a get-together later tonight in celebration, but you could tell that Rafe wasn't really listening. Your brows scrunch together as you see him picking at the tape trying to unravel it and his silence was slowly becoming apparent. "You guys wanna give us a minute? I'll call you if we need anything" you mumbled to them as they eye their friend worriedly the youngest nodded.
They retreat to the door "we're gonna head back to the hotel, if you do decide to go out tonight just give me a call" Kelce mumbles before closing the door behind them. The silence in the room starts to get louder, your mouth opens but your words die in your throat seeing him finally getting the dingy tape off his skin and releasing a sigh.
Tossing the blood stained adhesive into the trash he walks further into his locker room towards his shower , you could hear the water hitting the tile and small grunts and winces of pain as he cleans off the blood and cuts off his body with soap and water. You space out for a while and let Rafe think in peace, you knew he would tell you whatever was on his mind sooner or later.
But once he finally finished showering you watched him walk back into the main area the cuts on his face still fresh and bleeding, it bugged you. His towel low on his hips, and his hair clean and messily slicked back with a few thin strands falling in his face. "You want me to clean your cuts so we can get out of here faster?" You ask quietly, watching him sit in a metal chair that sits in front of a long mirror. Shrugging at your question, you took your chance.
Opening the nearest locker you find a mini first aid kit, seeing everything you need inside you sit on the floor beside the leg of the chair and open a small pack of cotton pads, and rubbing alcohol. The smell alone made both of your faces scrunch as you lean close to his face attempting to find the cuts covered in dried blood.
"You wanna tell me why you beat that dude's face in?" You ask as you gently swiped away at the cut on the corner of his forehead that made him shut his eyes tightly at the stinging pain. "Doesn't matter," he said as his hands tightened around the edges of his seat. "It does if you almost threw a match because of it. I don't get why all of a sudden you're being your normal self, and next thing you know you are bashing his face in" you huff.
You and Rafe have gone over things with his anger and little to none patience, Rafe has moved past being provoked and talked down to, and ever since you've never seen him lose his cool like that up until now. "Even if it's something dumb, you know you can tell me right?" You ask as you discard the bloody cotton pad.
Sighing Rafe caves as he opens his eyes to meet your gaze "he was talking about you" he mumbled. His voice is gruff and frustrated, you can tell he was getting angry just rethinking about it. "What?" You were confused, what could have possibly set Rafe off about you? "He was talking about sleeping with you, just being disrespectful and shit" he rolled his eyes.
You scoff "you got mad about that?" You ask which makes his brows furrow at the question "of course I'm gonna get mad y/n, we work together. I know you personally, and I'm not gonna let somebody talk about you like that" he said, you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin as he spoke. "You shouldn't. You have more to worry about than some dude talking shit" you say picking up another pad and putting alcohol on it, you tilt his chin looking at his cuts.
"Well I do. I don't like when people talk about you in any way, you just do your job and you get shit on for no reason" he explains which makes you roll your eyes yet look to meet his gaze as you feel him stare into your soul. "It's a part of my job. I knew what I signed up for, even if you don't like it that's not gonna keep people from doing it. Don't get so worked up over it" you shake your head at him.
The silence in the locker room was becoming overbearing, holding a strong glare. Rafe was not listening to a single word you had to say, he didn't care if this was your job or not, you don't deserve that. His bruised hand reaching your jaw, his thumb drawing comforting circles on your skin "you don't deserve that, that's why I'm so worked up over it. You've been around since my first match, were roommates. I know everything there is to know about you, so why would I not get upset over shit like that?" He asks but more rhetorically.
"Your job is to fight Rafe, not bash people's heads in because of a stupid friend" you mumbled, shaking your head showing your disapproval once more, you move his hand to clean up his cuts once more. "You're not just a stupid friend" he scoffs. "I am, the only thing I really do is look out for your schedule, your P.R interviews and shit. Nothing special" you let out a small chuckle under your breath. Standing him to your full height
Rafe's eyes never leave your face as he pulls at your wrist moving it away from his face, his hand that once cupped your jaw pulls you in, Rafe closing the remainder of space between you both as his soft lips press to yours. You felt like you had been shocked, you didn't move for what felt like seconds until you pulled away and blinked rapidly. "I don't want you to be just some stupid friend or manager to me" he whispered.
You huff out a sigh before leaning back in and pressing your lips to his, being more confident with your actions your hands find themselves raking through his hair tugging it softly, groaning against your lips.
Letting out a small groan, Rafe's hand makes way to the fabric of your dress, clutching it in his fist and pulling your hips closer against him sends him into a small daze.His tongue now licking a stripe on your bottom lip begging for access, parting your lips, his tongue immediately brushing against yours, mixing your saliva. As you suck on his tongue the remnants of blood and mint. Realizing what the both of you are doing you pull away "we shouldn't be doing this" you say.
Your foreheads pressed together and noses grazing each other, Rafe shakes his head "I don't care about all of that right now" he slurs feeling the weight of the punches and kicks he had taken. Kissing at the corner of your lip smudging your lipgloss.
Rafe has always been professional with you, outside of work you two are like the best of friends, this was a line you had never thought to cross said line, but the feeling of his lips against yours made you feel fuzzy. You didn't care about the line anymore and both of you are now toppling over it. "I just want you" he mumbled as he pressed his nose against your; eyes clouded with an unknown feeling.
You smile lazily as you lean into him, giving him a chaste kiss. You both smile like kids as you pull apart. His hands trail from the bunched up fabric of your dress to your thighs pulling them apart "sit" he whispers making you nod and blink dreamily as you choke back a whimper at the sheer friction between his thighs and your pussy.
Arching your back until your chests press against each other, hands all over each other touching any part of each other that possibly could be in this position. Rafe couldn't help but grind up against you as the warmth of your core rubs against the throbbing bulge held behind his towel, the fabric running against the both of you earning a moan.
Pressing your lips against Rafe eager to steal ever last breath out of his lungs as your hands grip at his hair. Rafe doesn't hide his needs as his hands slide all around your body anywhere he could reach. Moaning against each others lips Rafe presses his forehead against yours as you both part panting against each other.
"You really wanna do this here?" He asks huskily turning you on even more. "I don't care if we did it in the car I just want you Rafe" you whisper against his lips making him smile, feeling on top of the world at your response. Rafe knew his feelings for you were beyond just Manager and client, but he knew to never go beyond that. But right now... he really didn't give a damn.
Pulling the tight skirt of your dress over your ass until it bunches at the waist, his palms Slide Over the soft skin as your lace panties; wet and sticky cover everything he's craving at the moment. Groping and kneading the skin harshly making you moan as your hips press down against his once again, his hands guide you against his towel covered lap.
Biting your lip harsh enough you could almost break flesh. "You think you can cum like this for me?" He asks sending shivers up your spine thinking of rutting yourself against the dirty blonde haired man until you hit your peak "mhm" you respond giving a small nod choking up your words with whimpers.
Your arms slink around his shoulder as you rest your head against the nape of his neck letting stimulation get the best of you. The fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit makes you feel utterly dizzy. "Just like that, you feel good?" He asks under his breath landing a harsh slap against your ass making you moan louder "feels so good" you whimper "you make me feel good Rafe" you moan as your hips recoil into his as the tension in your stomach grows.
Rafe could feel a wet patch of your slick deep through the towel over his hard cock making him bite his lip in satisfaction. He could see how much faster your hips are grinding into him showing how close you were to cumming, Rafe wraps his arms around your waist pressing your chest tightly to his as he grinds up against you.
The sound of the chair scraping against the concrete floors is almost background sounds to the both of you too wrapped up in getting your much wanted orgasm. "You're gonna make me cum" you whine as your eyes shut tightly and your eyebrows scrunch together "yeah? Do it" he says sternly making you shutter as your jaw slacks at the overwhelming feeling "fuck" you sob as your nails dig into Rafes back.
Hissing at the feeling Rafes hips come to a stop, his hands rub your thighs as they slightly shake. "You okay?" He asks with an airy laugh at your fatigued face that pulls away from his body "yeah, just give me a second" you whisper coming down from your high as the constant throbbing between your thighs starts.
Pulling yourself out of his lap your knees buckle feeling like jelly, you lower yourself fully until your knees press into the harsh concrete, not minding it much your hands trail over the white towel tucked around Rafes waist, looking up at him with soft eyes "you don't have to do anything" he speaks up and it makes you smile. This was the considerate and caring Rafe you had always known, never selfish and always seeking just a smidgen of approval from anyone he could when he could.
"I want to do this with you, nobody else" you say as your fingers brush against the skin of his lower stomach as they hook over the tightly wrapped towel. You were eager, the new found feeling was overstimulating in all the right ways. Pulling the fabric away from his lap now completely exposed to the cold air Rafe shivers, he doesn't know if it's from excitement or the decrease in temperature but either way he felt like he was in heaven.
The way your hands travel over his thighs makes his breath get caught in his throat, your eyes rake over his body with a look he's never seen on your face but regardless he loves it. you wet the palm of your hands with your tongue before taking his cock into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb.
His head falls back with no support from the chair he mutters out "fuck" as his hands grip at the towel underneath him. And when you finally put him in your mouth, finally swallow down the already there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him again; your body on fire, your pussy aching.
You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you're gagging around him and he's cursing and digging his nails into the side of the chair once again.
And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the towel. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, "oh fuck" tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate in the moment. He didn't want release, he needed it, Rafe had never been a begging man but in the moment Rafe would do just about anything to cum.
you keep your nose pressed into the skin of his pelvis until you physically can't, pulling off of him with a loud pop. your cheek is wet with tears, and your chin is slick with spit, the two coalescing at the tip into a sticky mess.
the sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he's been dreaming of. This was his selfish wish, to see you below him with this expression. eyes all doe-eyed and desperate. But it also doesn't take Rafe much time before he lets his eyes flutter shut his hips now slowly bucking into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your throat closing around him tightly.
he can't help but to reach out and rub the heavy pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek.
a string of profanities leave his lips. he's close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with a slight roughness. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage his thigh digging your nails into his skin.
he can feel you start to get riled up, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he's sure every last bit has been spilled.
Pulling away slowly, your breathing uneven and filled with small coughs and hiccups, your hand rests on his scratched up thighs, Rafe looks at you with nothing but lust. Your swollen lips, your mascara staining your cheeks, his hand cupping your jaw to bring you close his nose brushing against yours as your heavy breathing mixes with his.
"You're so fucking beautiful" he grumbles as he presses his lips against yours harshly parting your lips with his tongue messily running yours against his. Slowly without breaking the kiss Rafe moves himself out of the chair, his own knees feeling a slight sting at the feeling. Guiding you down to your back as the kiss grows more hungry as he grinds his bare cock against your panties growing frustrated at the very little skin on skin contact, his hands settling on your upper thighs slither until his hands are underneath the fabric of your dress.
His fingers find the elastic band of your panties finally pushing them down your thighs and past your ankles where he recklessly tosses them out of his way to only who knows where. Your dress being the only obstacle left he pulls the zipper tugging your arms through the sleeves easily he damn near rips you dress off at the seems just to see your body in all its glory. He doesn't take his eyes off of you not even for a second his eyes follow every dip and curve with the most adoration one could hold in their gaze and it makes you feel warm.
His eyes rake over you from top to bottom as his eyes latch onto the sight of your thighs glistening in slick. He hissed through his teeth absentmindedly his hand gently travels between your thighs as his thumb presses between your slit making friction with your sensitive clit making you whine at the feeling. His hand leaving your body he takes his length into his own hand gripping himself.
"You look so good like this" He says as he presses his tip against your slit teasingly sliding against it as it makes a slick sound as your essence covers his tip and shaft, dipping his tip into your entrance Rafe sucks in a deep breath as he pushes into you groaning at the feeling of your tight walls enveloping his tip.
Pushing deeper inside you he lets out a moan "fuck you feel so good" he says as he catches his bottom lip in between his teeth. "You're so big" you gasp, feeling how good he filled you up to the brim as you feel him begin to slowly move. Rafe couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside you.
His cock buried deep inside you makes you moan and your nails into palms as your chest is pressed against the cold hard floor making your nipples perk and a shiver run down your spine; setting a pace for bouncing against him. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.
"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.
A small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared while your ass bounced on his cock it was addicting. "You like being fucked like this?" He asks as he bucks his hips into your sharply.
Moaning at his dirty words and sudden surge of confidence your head falls into your hands muffling your sweet voice Rafe's palm sharply smacks your ass "Answer me" he says groaning as he soothes the stinging feelings on your warm skin.
"Mhm, I want people to hear how good you fuck me" you say lifting your head from your hands as you bite your bottom lip hard as you hear how wet you are with each thrust he gave you. Rafe; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your hips stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips into you harder. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.
His hips piston into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "right there" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.
"Just like that, I just want you to cum inside me" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and his death grip on the fat of your ass almost sending you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.
You nod eagerly as you begin to alternate between grinding and bouncing, your nails drag against his inner thigh leaving behind a red and irritated trail- yet he didn't mind it as it pushed him closer to his orgasm.
Leaning down with his chest to your back Rafe presses his lips to yours moaning against each other's lips pushing you closer and closer. Your back arching even more as you move faster wanting to cum so badly "keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back.
His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was covered in sweat and his eyes rolled back "god I'm gonna cum" he says breathily as you grind back against him to meet his thrusts as the sticky sound of him pounding your sloppy pussy resides in the air of the locker room.
The room was warm and all you could care about was how good your best friend was fucking you. "You like having an audience to be fucked like a slut in front of huh?" He says as he grips onto your hips harder to stop your movement as he pounds into a spongy part of your walls.
His hair sticking to his forehead and his breath becoming heavier "I love being fucked like a slut" you rasp as you hear his breathy laugh at your words desperate to feel release "good" he says as he fucks into you harder. "Tell me how much of a slut you are" he groans as his nails dig into your hips, "I'm such a fucking slut for you, god I'm your cockslut" you whine as his thrusts are deeper and sharp it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Pulling your back to his chest hitting an angle inside you that made you see white as your ass bounced into his lap your hands desperately thrash to grip your own thigh as a result of overwhelming pleasure.. "Oh fuck- just like that, You're gonna make me cum" he moaned deeply into the nape of your neck.
Letting out a string of whines you clench harder "I'm close" he moaned as he began to twitch inside you, his words buzzing in your ears making you grind against him eagerly "please let me cum" you beg as you turn your head over your shoulder to look at Rafe who was absolutely pussy drunk on the feeling of you.
"You gonna cum?" he asks as his hand falls between your thighs, his fingers press against your clit "You gonna fucking cum?" he asks rhetorically as his words slur, you nod as your breathing becomes uneven "do it" he says pushing you back down into the cold ground roughly gripping your hips and you were sure it would leave bruises his eyes roll back as he feels how you clench around him and let your orgasm washes over you, with a few more hard thrusts he would also be tipping over the edge to his orgasm moaning as his thick white strings of cum fills you up leaving your body feeling warm and fuzzy.
Fucking you both through your highs your thighs clench shut as overstimulation creeps up on you your moans began to come out choked which makes Rafe slow down his pace until his hips were no longer moving against yours.
Pulling out you both hiss, as his cum drips down your thigh Rafe chuckles at the sight almost wanting to use his fingers to fuck his cum back inside you but deems you're too fucked out. He pulls away completely standing on shaky legs walking off to the bathroom to grab a clean towel wet with warm water to clean you off. You breathe heavily, almost too lazy to pick yourself up looking at the mirror perched against the wall seeing how your face was most likely in it.
Your actions finally sink in. You hear the footsteps near you, Rafe walks back into the locker room he wipes you off rubbing small soothing circles into your thighs he wipes you down clean. Rafe would be sure you were getting treatment you deserve even if it wasn't in the most romantic place.
After he takes care of you can hear "I'm sorry if I was being too rough," he says softly as he looks at you with soft eyes "don't worry about it. I like that stuff anyways" you say with a chuckle you roll over onto your side you look at your best friend "it felt good. No need to be sorry" you say waving him off. Rafe sighs in content, almost nervous that he had hurt you or took too much of his anger out on you.
"Get up, you need a shower before we go back to the hotel" he says rubbing your sore thighs. You bite back a groan as you think about actually having to leave your spot on the ground. Your body feeling sticky and covered in sweat, You cave sitting up. You press your hand to your sore back thinking about how harshly your back had been pushed against it. Rafe holds a hand out to you as he coaxes you into a warm shower.
You hadn't thought about the fall out of the matter, you have in fact slept with your best friend, the person you live with, and spend every day with. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow but you didn't let that thought sink in that much as well when Rafe's more intimate with you, the lingering touches, the small pecks on your lips as he washes you up with the soap he had packed in his bag. The smell of him washes over you as you let all of your thoughts wash away with the soapy water down the drain of the shower.
You'd just have to worry about it another time.
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gilverrwrites · 16 hours ago
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Imagine desperate Jason crawling through your window late at night. You've been crushing on each other for a while now, but he is blind by his insecurities to see your obvious heart eyes. His self control has finally snapped- maybe you've been putting your hand on his thigh or leaning against him, dropping hints that only push him over the edge. He very quietly, very carefully slips into your bed. "Just once..." he thinks, slipping your panties off your sleeping form "one time and I'll be okay..."
Jason Todd/Reader I can't lie, there's little more I enjoy than writing Jason being being a little bit depraved and/or pathetic. Sorry to my fellow ugly sleepers with thunderous snores, we're babes too. Warnings: Dub-con, somno
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Just this once he'd told himself the very first time he’d jimmied your rusty old window lock open with his switchblade. Your texts had stopped abruptly, all he wanted to do was poke his head in and check that you were safe and sound, tucked up in bed.
Just this once he'd said again, the next time as your creaky hardwood floors cried out beneath the weight of his steel-toed boots. You were bedridden with flu. He was being a good friend, checking your temperature and refilling your water.
Just this once he'd promised the time he settled onto the edge of your bed, taking respite from a rough night by watching you; so serene, so peaceful. He listened to the sound of your shallow breathing until his eyes grew heavy.
Just this once he’ll allow himself to really relax, just this once he’ll kick off his shoes, take off his hood and lie beside you. He just needs to be close to you, to feel your warmth beside him, to feel your breath on his skin.
Just this once he’d sworn every time, but now he knows exactly what angle to tap your lock at, which floorboards make the least noise, how slowly to lower his weight onto your bed to prevent it dipping under his weight too quickly and making you stir.
But just this once he needs more from you than he would normally take.
You've been so hard to be around lately, his self-control is in pieces. You stomp on it every time you run your fingers through his hair. It sets his skin a blade when you hold his hand. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat when you whisper in his ear. You’ve picked up this maddening habit of resting your fingers on his thigh whenever you sit beside him, and it makes his cock ache for your touch. How can you not see what you’re doing to him? How badly he wants you? It’s torture. Pretty soon he’ll have ground his teeth down to dust from gritting them to keep from kissing you every time you bat your lashes and twirl your hair.
Just this once he’ll pull the covers all the way back. He’ll take his gloves off so he can feel your bare skin against his cracked fingers. He’ll savour the sweet sounds of your sleepy musings, how you murmur and moan for him when he brushes his thumbs across your nipples, how your back arches as he traces the curve of your stomach and dips his fingers below the elastic of your underwear; he’ll commit it all to memory.
He barely even has to do anything, you spread your legs so eagerly once he gets your panties off. Your slit is so hot and wet, his fingers glide between your lips. He should slow down, should make sure he’s not disturbing you, but your body responds so well to him, your pussy swallowing up his digits with no resistance. You’re just begging for him.  
He shakes as he works his belt open. Soft whimpers of his own escape his lips, delicate sounds he’d loathe for you to hear as he palms his length, rubbing it with your slick before lining it up with your needy entrance.  
Just this once, to get you out of his system.
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hemlock-dreams · 1 day ago
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PleSe may I ask for a tiny morsel of the written word depicting bartender Petey taking care of business when some customers get too rowdy? Saw the "80s theme" and immediately thought he'd look amazing tossing out the trash (ideally covered in blood cause can't make an omelets without breaking eggs but bartenders don't tend to break faces sadly)
Here yo go! Have a snippet from the upcoming Chapter 2 of Pick Your Poison!! Hope you enjoy!!
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Wade sees Baby Boy snatch a bottle that comes flying at him out of the air without looking. 
Damn, they threw the thing at mach speed, too. Wade’s got to hand it to the kid; those are some impressive reflexes. He follows the easy catch by spinning the glass with enough flair to make a schoolgirl swoon, setting it against the bartop like he’s the main character.
The jackasses in the back don’t even notice, hauling each other over the tables in a messy, drunken sprawl. Wade hasn’t seen this much fumbling since prom night.
It’s embarrassing. He should do Weasel a favor (and indulge himself) by shooting them in the legs for interrupting plans between Wade and his future paycheck. But the look of intense concentration on Baby Boy’s face is distracting. That’s the furrowed brow of a man who is about to fuck around and find out.
Boo. Three more days and Baby Boy would have passed the cutoff mark. 
Wade usually likes hedging his bets on the underdog for the thrill, but four against one is bad odds for anyone who isn’t Deadpool, even a civvie with so many tough-guy tattoos. 
“And he was this close to being the final girl,” Wade mourns performatively, sparing a glance at Weasel to gauge how the man is feeling about the prospect of watching his civilian pet project get snapped in half. But the asshole just looks vaguely amused, which piques Wade’s interest.
So he turns back around just in time to watch Baby Boy march right into fucking around territory, straight up walking toward the group of heavily-armed mercs, no weapons, no foreplay, no nothing– just moxie.
Damn. He’s stupid. Wade likes that in a guy.
“Hey,” Baby Boy says, wrapping a hand around the leg of one wooden chair as the one with a bad haircut raises it over his head. 
Their kerfuffle is interrupted as four extremely drunk mercs with more bullets than brains pause to reorient their attention on Baby Boy.
“You know the rules. Sit down, or take it outside,” He continues, tugging on the chair like he’s trying to take it from an unruly toddler. 
There’s a collective laugh from all four bozos as they forget their beef to unionize against a new, soft, and squishy target.
“Oh yeah?” The short one smiles, revealing a row of really ugly teeth. Wade’s fist immediately itches to plant itself into that mouth, just for offending his eyes like that. “Who’s going to make us, you?” 
The edge of Baby Boy’s mouth curves, “If I have to,” he says, and it can’t be mistaken as anything but a taunt.
Bold move, Cotton. 
The rest of the bar, normally oblivious to a few broken pieces of furniture and some blood, takes notice of the audacity. Wade can practically hear eyeballs turning and the collective bating of breath. 
“That’s cute. He thinks he can take us.” Bad Haircut snickers, drunkenly swaying into the conversation. He gives Baby Boy a once-over, expression turning lewd, “Then again, maybe he can…in one of the back rooms.” 
“He does have bigger tits than most of the girls here,” His unfortunate-looking friend leers, staring at Baby Boy’s admittedly mouth-watering chest. Motherfucker is tall and top-heavy, built like a linebacker, invading the kid’s space like he’s looking for a touchdown if you get Wade’s drift. “Got a pretty face, too. What do you say, sweetheart? Why don’t we go to the back and we can apologize to you real good.”
Baby Boy’s hand constricts halfway into a fist before he forces it to relax. He looks like he’s barely holding himself back, and coin flip on whether this is going to be very funny or very sad, but either way, Wade’s on board to be entertained.
“Yo Weasel,” Ugly Smile calls out, eyes locked on Baby Boy, lurid and alcohol-glazed, “You mind if we take your bar boy for a spin?”
His grin promises an unpleasant time, but Wade isn’t worried. Maggie’s is a shithole for sure, with morals looser than Wade’s jaw, but some things are still too far. Not that it keeps these loser shitheads from defaulting to it when they need to compensate.
“You break it, you buy it,” Weasel replies gamely. Which, dang, cold. Always nice to be reminded why Wade kind of likes the guy. 
Baby Boy’s mouth twitches into a smile, and Wade’s entire body goes on alert, “Take the chair out of my rent, then.”
Ready, set, action. An invisible hand slams the clapboard, and everyone bursts into motion.
The chair in question swings and misses. Baby Boy fluidly sidestepping both Bad Haircut and his buddy, grabbing the support and using the momentum to hook the wooden back over Linebacker’s neck, flipping the chair and twisting both mercs like puppets before sending them crashing to the floor. 
Bad Haircut is scrambling up, but Linebacker is pinned to the floor by his chair necklace, anchored by Baby Boy’s leg as he presses down hard enough to snap the wood and drive the remaining air out of his lungs.
The bigger they are, the dumber they fall. Linebacker is immediately out for the count, but a broken chair is still useful, and Baby Boy is apparently the creative sort.
The snapped leg turns into a baton, and Baby Boy leisurely sways out of pistol-whipping range when Bad Haircut pulls out his gun, dancing back in to drive the splintered wood under the merc’s armpit on the outswing.
Screaming in pain, Bad Haircut stumbles back only for Baby Boy to grab his wrist and haul him forward, twisting his arm in a fancy maneuver that ends up with the gun on the floor and kicked safely out of reach.
Interesting.
Then it’s a pas de deux, with Baby Boy’s back against Haircut’s chest, using the impaled baton as leverage to toss the man over his shoulder and straight into Ugly Smile. 
The merc falls out of the way, only to run into Baby Boy’s fist as it buries deep in his guts. Even at a distance, Wade can hear his ribs break. Doubled over, Ugly Smile is coughing up blood and vomit when a tattooed hand cradles the back of his head and slams his mouth into the table once, twice, three times. Then it’s lights out.
It’s over almost as soon as it began, and as the dust settles, Wade is reevaluating the merits of his earlier bet. 
Yes, they were drunk, but Wade still expected it to be fast, if not messy. He hadn’t been counting on class. He hadn’t been counting on Baby Boy to be the one last standing, let alone to have shut them down so completely it barely merits the paragraph.
And the kid isn’t even done. He’s locked eyes with the fourth guy, jaw flexing like an attack dog straining against its leash, but the dumbass looks like he’s turned over a new leaf and become a law-abiding citizen in the few heartbeats it took Baby Boy to clean the floor with his buddies. 
When the guy doesn’t make a move, Baby Boy leans back, completely relaxed, eyes flat, no sense of triumph in the aftermath, just…disappointment– like he’d been craving something more and been left wanting.
Wade can’t resist a low, appreciative whistle, clocking the way Baby Boy’s entire body reacts to the sound. His head snaps in Wade’s direction, and the whole room vignettes as he stares Wade down, eyes flashing like he wants to crumble his spine like a cookie. 
Lust stabs Wade’s gut all the way to the hilt.
“Changed my mind, Weas,” Wade breathes, feeling the tension drain from the room and right into his dick. “You should keep him.”
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thebisexualdogdad · 3 days ago
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Texting Dick Grayson for a hookup please?
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Dick Grayson x GN reader
‘You awake?’ 
‘Just got home actually why are you awake Y/N it's 3AM’
‘I miss you’
‘I miss you too, sorry I haven't been around much’
‘It's been three weeks since I've seen you’
‘Trust me it's been hard for me too’ 
‘You should come over Dick…’
‘On my way’ 
Twenty minutes later you and Dick were stumbling through your apartment as you kick your shoes off, lips locked when he pushes you up against the door frame of your bedroom. 
You tug his shirt off over his head, a fresh bruise on his stomach. 
“What happened?” You ask running your fingers gently over it. 
“Just the usual fight with a bad guy, nothing to worry about,” he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, guiding you back to your bed while he rids you of your own shirt. 
You lay back, Dick climbing on top of you and kissing along your neck then your chest.
The rest of your clothes are shed, Dick positioning himself between your legs, his cock standing tall as he lathers it in lube. 
He spreads your knees further apart, grabbing hold of your hips to pull you closer and placing a pillow underneath for your comfort. 
You groan when he eases inside you, a slow roll of his hips to test the waters. 
“Faster,” you moan and he rocks his hips a little quicker, finding a rhythm that makes your chest arch.
He intently watches the way your eyes screw shut and your mouth hangs open, soft whimpers escaping your lips. 
The bruise on his stomach hurts more than he let you believe and stings every time he thrusts into you but you look so incredible coming undone for him like this he wouldn't dare stop. 
He grins proudly when you moan his name, raising your hips a bit higher to give him a new angle which makes your toes curl. 
You grasp at the sheets, crying out when you cum with Dick keeping his steady pace prolonging your orgasm. 
“Dick I can't take anymore,” you gasp, your thighs trembling. 
He smiles and pulls out of you, stroking his cock, “that good huh.” 
“Shut up,” you laugh, sitting up so you can kiss his stomach, his muscles tightening when your lips touch his bruise. 
“Y/N,” he groans when your hand takes over stroking him. 
“Cum for me baby,” you say and Dick moans, shooting cum onto your chest. 
After getting cleaned up Dick goes to put his clothes back on. 
“You know you can stay the night right?” You say coming out of the bathroom. 
“It's after 5AM there isn't any night left,” he laughs, “and besides you have work in a few hours so you need all the sleep you can get, if I stay we both know there won't be much sleeping done.” 
“Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me,” you chuckle. 
Before he leaves he walks over to you and kisses you sweetly, “I promise I'll come around more often.” 
“Promise?�� 
“Promise?” He says kissing you once more. 
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anonymous-dentist · 2 days ago
Text
Ocean's Haunted
Read on AO3
-
First off, the ocean's haunted.
That's very important.
Once upon a time when Cesar was still on land, his mother told him all about the spirits that lived on the water. There are the ghosts, of course, and their ships that sail under the full moon. Sea monsters that live in the deepest parts of the ocean and drag sailors to their dooms. Sirens that take on the appearance of one's deepest desires.
What Cesar's mother failed to mention were the goddamn sea zombies.
Sea zombies like the ones currently trying to eat Cesar's face: lean and filled with holes like a sponge, leaking water from every orifice, hair the color and appearance of decayed seaweed. And, of course, smelling of dead fish.
Being alone on his back in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean miles away from land and armed with only a pistol (one bullet left) and a bottle of rum (unopened), Cesar briefly thinks that this is how he's going to die: alone.
The sea zombie gurgles and spits up a mouthful of brackish brown water onto Cesar's shoes. Its teeth graze the back of his calf, tearing his pants' leg to shreds.
Cesar kicks the fucker and skitters back in his boat until his back is against the bow. His hand scrambles for his pistol, finds it.
He raises it with both hands. He doesn't have the time to aim, but at at least his hands don't shake as he fires his last and final bullet into the sea zombie's icky oozing skull.
The sea zombie collapses into a puddle of sea foam with a scream. Its teeth, somehow, are left behind. As are its remaining clothes, including a large, audaciously-colored tricorn hat.
Cesar stares at the foam.
"What the fuck?" he asks it.
The foam, predictably, doesn't answer.
Slowly, Cesar sits up. He puts his gun down in his lap and adjusts the remains of his pants. He looks longingly at the bottle of rum. He internally curses his mother for not knowing about goddamn sea zombies. He externally curses his "father" for his very existence, just because he can.
The sun starts to set over the horizon, and Cesar settles back at the boat's oars. He presses a hand gently to his stomach, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he doesn't start bleeding again.
With a sigh, he cracks his neck, and he picks up the oars in each hand, and he starts rowing again.
-
Pirates.
Ever since he was a child, Cesar has hated pirates. Not because of their whole rob-and-kill-and-steal thing, but because he's only met one pirate in his life, and his life has been ruined ever since.
It's a personal thing. Some people hate pão de queijo. Others hate the winter months. Cesar hates his no-good father, and he hates pirates.
But when a ship that looks about as textbook a pirate ship can be pulls up next to Cesar's rowboat, Cesar feels a rush of relief.
A head pops over the side of the ship, feet above Cesar's head.
"Hello!" the head calls- black hair, and a smile obvious even in the night.
Cesar raises a hand in greeting. "Hey."
"Do you need some help?"
Cesar moves to answer with a, "Nah, I'm good," but, suddenly, the head is yanked out of sight by a pale hand.
"What are you thinking?" a new voice- female?- hisses. "We don't know this guy?"
"Aw, look at him, though! He'll die without our help!" the head argues.
Cesar puts his oars down for the moment.
And then he picks up his still-unopened bottle of rum and holds it in the air like it's a trophy.
"I have rum!" he calls.
Immediately, a woman's head and shoulders appear where the last head was. She looks almost as much a corpse as the sea zombie Cesar just killed, but beggars can't be choosers.
"Why didn't you say so?" she asks, warmth dripping off her voice like slime mold. Her head turns to the side. "Joui, get the ladder."
And that's when a third voice appears and sighs, "Come on, are you just going to let any old wretch onto the ship because they have rum? They could be a siren."
"I'm not a siren," Cesar helpfully says.
A new head, the third voice's, presumably, appears next to the woman's. This man, Cesar notices, is balding.
R-I-P.
"Prove it," the balding man says.
The first head appears on the woman's other side, pouting.
"Would a siren do this?" Cesar asks. He raises his empty pistol to his temple and puts his finger on the trigger.
Alarmed, the first head reaches out as if that'll do anything.
The other two people are not amused.
Sighing, Cesar lowers his gun and flatly says, "And I can play the accordion."
The balding man grins and claps his hands together. "Joui, get the ladder!"
Head number one salutes and ducks out of sight once more. (That'll be 'Joui' then...)
The woman looks at the balding man with a frown. "So me wanting rum is suicidal, but you wanting sea shanties isn't?"
The man shrugs. "What can I say, my dear? We're pirates. We need a sea shantier."
Cesar isn't sure if that's an actual word or job description, but he doesn't quite feel like arguing with the pirates currently saving his life.
One rope ladder climb later, Cesar finds himself tied to the ship's mast with his rum being drank straight from the bottle by the woman.
All three of the pirates are gathered around him, each one with weapons very clearly visible on their persons.
Cesar squirms slightly. "You couldn't have at least let me sit down before tying me up?"
"Nah," says the woman, bottle to her lips.
Well.
Pirates.
Cesar looks around. It's an empty ship, no crew members in sight besides the three in front of him. The sails are down, and the anchor's chain is leading off the side of the ship. The deck is a mess, and the rigging is knotted just so incorrectly that it's making Cesar's teeth hurt.
The balding man steps forward, his hand resting on the end of his sword on his belt.
"What crew do you work for, then?" he asks, fake smile and even faker gold teeth.
"None," Cesar truthfully replies. "I'm out here on my own?"
Presumably-Joui furrows his brow in confusion. "In a rowboat?"
Cesar shrugs. "It was all I could afford."
That, though, is a lie. His mother left him one hell of a fortune when she passed, and all that money is currently siting in a bank back home waiting for his return. (He'll never actually return, but the money doesn't need to know that.)
But, well, it's a bunch of pirates. They don't need to know the truth.
(Mostly because the truth, of course, is too strange for anyone, even a pirate, to believe.)
Silence. Physical silence so heavy that it weighs Cesar's shoulders down. It sits in the pit of his stomach and tugs on his tongue, begging him to talk.
The woman leans over to whisper to the balding man. His face crinkles, and he whispers back with his hand cupped over her ear.
Cesar chooses to lock eyes with Maybe-Joui.
He looks... nice? He smiles when Cesar makes eye contact, though he stays a fair distance away from the mast, a full step or so behind the other two pirates.
A literal second of eye contact is all Cesar can take, though; he shivers and swallows the lump in his throat and looks up at the sky, instead.
Stars.
And the moon.
Bald and Woman's whispering gets louder as they start to argue.
"We are not telling him!" Bald hisses. "Are you crazy?"
Woman rolls her eyes. "What else are we supposed to do? He is literally ten feet below us right now!"
"Yeah, and he probably heard us bringing him up," Maybe-Joui adds.
Both Bald and Woman snap their heads towards Maybe-Joui with narrowed eyes.
"This is a private conversation!" Woman huffs.
"Cover your ears," Bald tells him.
Maybe-Joui's face falls, but he nods and puts his hands over his ears, though not without mumbling, "Maybe don't speak so loudly next time..."
He even closes his eyes for good measure. How polite.
But Cesar, facing him, can see that the way his hands are placed leaves plenty of room for sound to sneak in.
Cesar bites back a smile; he can always appreciate a good fofoqueiro.
"What about me?" he asks. "Do I need to cover my ears, too?"
Woman and Bald both ignore him. Assholes.
Sighing, Cesar tips his head back until it's resting against the mast.
At least they aren't sea zombies, he tells himself.
"We could use the extra help..." Bald muses.
Suddenly, there's the sound of a hand striking cloth, and an offended, "Hey!"
"Are you crazy?!" Woman argues. "He might be an occultist!"
"Look at him, he's, like, twelve. How many occultists do we know that are children?"
Okay, what?
"I'm 29," Cesar sighs.
He tilts his head down to give the pirates a tired look.
They both look at him with varying levels of confusion on their faces.
"Maybe he is an occultist," Bald admits.
"Maybe we should get Cris," Woman adds.
A shudder goes down Cesar's spine at that.
A cloud passes over the moon.
Foreboding.
Maybe-Joui's eyes snap open, and he drops his hands back to his sides.
"Oh, are we getting Cris?" he asks. "I can get him."
Cesar barely manages to hold back a wince.
A cold wind blows across the ship's deck.
Foreboding.
Cesar flexes his arms against the ropes tying to him to the mast. He isn't that strong, but maybe...
Oh, who is he kidding? There's no way that he's on this ship. What would be the odds of that?
The ship creaks.
And then Cesar hears them: footsteps. From below, wooden planks groaning in protest of the weight on them; a door opening.
Panic rises in Cesar's throat. It's bitter and horrible and familiar in the same way as an old blanket and, suddenly, he has a bad feeling.
"Throw me overboard," he hoarsely says, looking right at Maybe-Joui because he, at least, seems normal.
Maybe-Joui's eyes widen. "What? No!"
Woman claps her hands together. "Well, you heard him, boys. Let's throw him overboard."
Cesar strains against the ropes. His ears ring. The moon is looking at him, judging. The pirates are looking at him, judging. His chest hurts. His arms hurt. Is he bleeding again? His shirt feels wet. Damnit.
Bald holds up a hand. "Now, hold on, look at him. Something's wrong."
Of course something is wrong, something is always wrong!
Woman puts the bottle of rum down on the deck. She crosses her arms, a frown appearing on her face.
"Hmph," she brilliantly says.
Maybe-Joui perks up slightly. "Guys, I hear someone moving downstairs."
Woman and Bald tense. They look at each other, having a silent conversation that Cesar, frankly, could care less about.
"Cris," they say in unison.
Bald turns to look at Cesar, and something weird lights up in his eyes.
He smiles, slightly, and he takes a full step back away from the mast, stretching his arms above his head.
"Liz, darling, take a good look at our guest," he calmly says.
Foreboding.
Cesar flinches as a door slams open on the other side of the deck.
Woman's eyes widen. "Oh. I see."
"I don't," Maybe-Joui says.
"What are we seeing?" a fourth voice- utterly grating and horrible and terrible and shitty and bad and disgusting- calls, a yawn and a smile in his voice.
Panic falls way to anger, which falls to hatred, which falls to nothing.
Cesar goes limp, falling back against the mast and looking down at the deck. He's. Tired.
"Who's this?" he hears.
"We have a guest," Bald hums. "Joui fished him out of the ocean. He hasn't given us a name yet, but... maybe you can help with that?"
The deck creaks with every heavy footstep.
Once, Cesar's mother told him about his "father": a tall, handsome man with a big hat and wide shoulders. He was a sailor, she said, and he always came home from his voyages with gold and silver and the finest jewelry Cesar's mother had ever seen.
A few weeks after Cesar was born, Cesar's father left for another trip. He left a letter behind. He left his wife behind.
He left his son behind.
"He can play the accordion," Maybe-Joui helpfully says. "I think we should keep him."
"I'm not an animal," Cesar grumbles.
He looks firmly at his boots even as the hulking figure of the fourth pirate comes to stand in front of him.
"Well?" Woman asks.
"Why is he tied up?" the pirate asks, sounding almost upset. "Hold on..."
Hands start tugging at the ropes.
And then they suddenly stop.
"Wait a minute..." the pirate murmurs.
"Oh, this will be good," Woman quietly says to her friends.
"Look at me," the pirate gently orders, voice cracking as his two hands settle on either side of Cesar's face.
Cesar sneers and tries to shrug off the pirate's touch. "Go fuck yourself, old man."
The pirate gasps, "It is him!"
And then Cesar is being pinned to the mast as the pirate hugs him, wrapping his beefy arms around both Cesar and the mast and Cesar can't breathe for so many reasons-
"Cesar!" the pirate weeps, tears in his voice and running down his face and dampening Cesar's hair. "My boy!"
Cesar tries to become one with the mast. Why didn't they throw him overboard?
"Cristopher," he stiffly replies. "I can't breathe."
The pirate backs up immediately, though his hands remain on Cesar's shoulders.
For the first time in years, Cesar looks his father in the face, and he feels nothing.
The pirate is crying. Cristopher is crying, the overemotional old man. He's gained a massive scar on his face since Cesar last saw him, and his hair has gone fully white. He's in his pajamas already even though it's barely past sunset.
"Girl!" he shouts over his shoulder. "Untie my son!"
Maybe-Joui winces. "Um, Mr. Cris, I'm not sure-"
"Gladly," Woman smirks.
She approaches, winks as she passes Cesar and steps behind the mast.
Cesar desperately tries to avoid Cristopher's gaze as he's being untied.
Maybe the sea zombies aren't too bad...
The ropes drop.
Cesar immediately makes a break for it, shoving past Cristopher and the balding man and running for the edge of the ship.
"Son!" Cristopher cries.
Cesar manages to get one leg over the ship's railing before two strong arms are wrapped around his chest and pulling him away from the edge.
"Don't be stupid," Maybe-Joui snaps, stumbling backwards with Cesar and expertly dodging the fists being thrown his way.
"Who's stupid!?" Cesar exclaims. He throws an arm out and points at a pained-looking Cristopher. "That guy's insane! I'd rather take my chances with the sea zombies!"
"'Insane'?" Cristopher repeats, face falling. "Cesar..."
Cesar glowers. "Don't."
He does stop fighting, though... mostly because he can see Bald and Woman snickering together near the mast.
Maybe-Joui drags him just a little bit further before dumping him on the deck. He crouches next to Cesar, head cocked slightly, a weird expression on his face. It's halfway a smile, halfway a frown, halfway a confused hmmmm? of a look.
And then he holds up a hand, one that was pressed against Cesar's stomach during the brief struggle. Even in the moonlight, it's clear to see how it's painted red.
He looks up and towards Woman.
"Liz-senpai?" he calls. "Is your office cleaned up yet?"
Cesar looks down at his stomach and groans, flopping fully onto the deck in defeat.
"What?" Woman asks. "Why... oh. Huh. Shit, okay. Help our new friend down, would you?"
Cesar doesn't so much as spare a glance in Cristopher's direction as Maybe-Joui and Bald each take a side and help him to his feet.
"What happened?" Cristopher demands. "Cesar, what happened?"
What else could it have been? Out of every monster Cesar's mother told him about, one came up time and time again in her stories as the worst of them all:
Pirates.
--
A/N: Hi! If you liked this, please let me know! I'm super nervous about writing for a different fandom, so any comments or reblogs or anything would be SUPER appreciated!
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caramelpenguin · 2 days ago
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inspired by.... ;)
This is what Wilhelm remembers:
Taking a shot. Screaming the wrong lyrics to a song. Taking another shot. Dancing. Neon lights and laughter. Another shot. Not caring anymore. Checking his phone at 23:42. More shots. Felice yanking his drink away. Finding a different bottle in her cabinet. Stumbling into the bathroom. Trying to get changed. Throwing up in the toilet.
That’s what he tells Felice when he wakes up, mind foggy and his body dizzy, sprawled on her living room couch with no memory of how he got there.
Felice is perched on the arm of a chair, watching him with amused eyes. She’s laughing while scrolling through pictures on her phone, flipping it around to show him. There’s one of him lying like a starfish on the floor, one where his head is thrown back, one of him grinning stupidly at the camera like a toddler, cheeks flushed and hair sticking up- the kind of grin he wears when he's free.
Wilhelm groans, dragging a hand over his face.
“Here,” Felice says, passing him a glass of water. “Drink.”
He obeys, gulping it down as she refills it. Then refills it again.
Once he’s drained three glasses, she sits beside him, tucking her legs underneath her. Her grin has softened into something kinder, but still very smug. “So… do you remember anything else from yesterday?”
He shakes his head, placing the empty glass down.
She hesitates, running a hand through her hair. “Anything about Simon?”
Wilhelm frowns. “Oh. Yeah.” He rubs his temple, trying to sort through the hazy blur of the night before. “He said he and Marcus broke up… again. Fourth time now, I think?” He glances at her. “Simon’s okay, right?”
Felice's expression is unreadable. “He’s good. He left with Rosh and Ayub last night.”
Wilhelm exhales, slumping back against the couch. “Sooo everything’s okay?”
Felice blinks, clearly weighing her words. Then she opens her mouth, pauses, closes her mouth, and just before Wilhelm can pester her, she finally says: “You got very drunk.”
“Clearly,” he mutters, grimacing.
She raises her eyebrows. “And… you...you kept trying to kiss Simon.”
His body goes rigid, voice pitching upwards. “I—what?” The blood drains from his face. “Fuck. What?”
Felice stifles a laugh. “I think he kissed you back a couple of times. Or maybe you were making out? Honestly, it’s all kind of fuzzy. Rosh probably remembers better than I do.”
Wilhelm groans and buries his face in his hands. “Oh my God.”
Felice pats his shoulder, unbothered. “I mean, I don’t think Simon minded. It happens to the best of us, Wille.”
"No. No no no no. I-" His fingers claw through his hair, eyes wide and alert. "This can't have happened, he probably thinks I'm a fucking idiot, I-"
"He doesn't think your an idiot." Felice says firmly, cutting through his spiral.
"You don't know that. He might think that- that I... I-" "He might think what? That he knows your secret?" Wille stiffens. "What secret?" Felice just grins, her eyes sparkling. "You tell me." Then she makes a strange face. "Though it's not much of a secret. You aren't as subtle as you think, not with the whole brooding and pining in silence thing."
"C'mon. I do not pine."
"Right. Sure. And last night was just... what? Practicing CPR?" He flops back onto the couch like a wilted flower. "Oh my god. Stop talking."
"Just so you know, Simon probably remembers most of last night." She stands, brushing imaginary dust off of her hands. "And if he doesn't, Rosh and Ayub are definitely going to tell him. You might want to get ahead of them before they turn it into something worse.
Wilhelm pales. "You're joking."
Felice winks. "Am I?"
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nerdee-blondee · 2 days ago
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i haven't stopped thinking about this deleted raunchy scene with lucanis ever since i saw it ☠️
if i was a fanfic writer i would be BUSTING out a one shot but ALAS i am not SO here i will give you my description on how this scene would go with my rook Valeria ✨
the premise is, my LOF valeria will be traveling to tevinter and isabela gives her a little side mission since she's in the area to find a relic that is submerged in water. (this will also take place after the almost-kiss scene in the pantry so valeria and lucanis are a WEE BIT awkward atm)
(WE ARE ALSO retconning that at least my rook can't swim. there is NO WAY IN HELL that my PIRATE LORD OF FORTUNE rook can't swim.)
SO valeria will bring lucanis and neve on this excursion. but neve will have gotten a lead on a tip and have to leave this outing to head for dock town, so it just leaves lucanis and valeria.
they get to this place where the information they have to go off says it is and see it's a beautiful little oasis area. and valeria starts to strip off her armor so she can swim down and grab the relic. lucanis, who is DESPERATELY trying not to stare at her undressing form, makes a snide comment about "not being able to swim" and valeria will get defensive like "I'LL HAVE U KNOW i most definitely CAN swim but you try swimming with all that armor and gold that i wear" "well maybe all that armor and gold is a restriction in battle?" "YOU try being a treasure seeking pirate WITHOUT all the gold"
and the tension from their previous NOT kiss will dissipate. than valeria will be like "this would go a lot faster if you came in and helped me find the damn thing". and so lucanis, after a beat, would start stripping down as well and both would go into the crisp clear waters. fully focused on finding this relic, they are all business for a time. until eventually they find it and all is well and good with their side mission. until lucanis gets out and looks back to valeria and asks "are you getting out?". as valeria is now floating in the waters says "have you ever dreamed about being a fish?" and this would stir a whole conversation about valeria's childhood as lucanis takes a seat on the edge of the water to listen.
"i miss when my life was simple and all i had to worry about was why i couldn't be a fish and be able to swim in the seas forever. not have to constantly worry about 2 ancient elven gods and the whole state of the world crumbling around me..." after this moment of vulnerability valeria would sit up and, like the little shit she is, send water careening over at him. and lucanis, now wet again, shakes his head and jumps in to splash her himself. and they have a really nice "battle" where valeria will use some magic to accurately get him in the face. and then lucanis will dive under water to grab her ankles and pull her under the water's surface. after this they would both remerge and laugh in a way that haven't been able to since all of this god-hunting started. their laughter dies down as they are just looking at each other and then they both realize they are a little too close. and they have too little clothes on. both of them just look at each other. not wanting to break whatever is happening in this moment between them. then very slowly, not wanting to scare him off, valeria goes to reach for a stray piece of hair that is stuck on lucanis' forehead. she wipes it away and slowly brings that hand to cup his cheek. he full on melts into her touch as both of their breathing seems to pick up a little. he opens his eyes that he didn't realize he closed and looks into her eyes and sees deep in her eyes that same desire from back in the pantry. and this time, he cannot find it in himself to ignore it.
he surges forward and kisses her. their first kiss. it's literally wet. and kind of clumsy as first kisses go. a small squeak leaves valeria's mouth as it happens and now, she finds herself melting into his brief touch. the kiss is over as quickly as it began. and they are both staring at each other and panting as if they had just run a marathon. they again stare into each other's eyes and both notice that the other's irises are being swallowed up by their pupils. one kiss has set both of them off. neither of them knows who started this next round of kisses but they know they neither of them want to stop. they are hungrily grabbing at each other and their lips don't leave each other. as if the others lips have all the answers to all the questions in the universe. her hands are caressing his beard and his face while his one hand is rooted at the base of her neck and in her hair while the other has a death grip on her hip.
than after a few of the best minutes of just savoring each other's kisses, lucanis brings his lips to all over her face. a kiss on the nose. on the forehead. on both cheeks. on the corners of her mouth. all, he hopes, conveys his apologies to not being able to show his love attraction for her sooner. and, as if she understood this sentiment, valeria gently places her hand on the back of his head while he indulges. as he feels her hand on the back of his head he groans and brings his lips down to her neck. when he gets to her neck, she lets out a gasp. she already has a sensitive neck but his beard there makes her squirm in the most delicious way. after hearing her gasp, he lets out another groan that turns more into a growl and he starts to lavish her neck with his tongue and small bites....
AAAAND THAT'S WHERE WE GET THE CUT IMAGE. after finishing typing ALL THAT i realized i basically wrote a fanfic LOLOL. but YEA this is how my valeria and lucanis would have their first kiss and almost immediately fuck but they are able to restrain themselves.
their FIRST TIME would probably be right after murder of crows, and after the deleted gondola scene! WE ARE DESCREATING VILA DELAMORTE BABY 😏😏
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gojoswhitebabydolllashes · 2 days ago
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Omg I heard you were asking for Act 3 requests? Maybe something angsty, the reader and Viktor are in an established relationship, and it could be related to his lack of humanity, their paths splitting, or even his death if you're able to work that out. Basically, sad. Thank you
I cried just thinking about this😭😭
---Falling from grace was okay with you---
It's cold in piltover. Perhaps for all of the month, it had been cold, and it was only getting colder. Viktor was sat by his desk, his bony, mechanical body encased by his navy robe. For what seemed like the greater part of the night, viktor was stuck in his project, never moving or willing to look anywhere that wasn't his gadget.
And for this, you felt tonight was the coldest night of the year.
It was well past midnight when viktor came to you in your quarters. He was tired, body lean, and drooping as he held his elegant cane against himself. Lie strewn across the bed as you had been, waiting for him to return, You watched him as he sorted out a small satchel he brought with him.
"Hello, my love," Viktor kissed your head.
"I missed you vik, you were gone so long"
You spoke as you picked at your nails. There wasn't anything unusual about viktor coming back to you in the late hours of the night. Sometimes, he doesn't come back at all.
There is nothing quite as painful as watching your lover become a stranger. You feel as though this is the first time you've ever seen him since your wedding. 2 years ago. Viktor is sitting on the small chair at the end of your bed as he takes off his dark robe.
"I had a late night. I apologize if I worried you"
"It's not the first time you have. You should stop staying so late, baby. It's not good for you"
Viktor grunted. "How do you know what's good for me?" His tone was sharp and harsh, but quick, like he had been waiting to say it.
Your eyes narrowed, and your mouth pursed. A worried glint went bright in your eyes as you caught viktors Amber hue in your gaze. There's something inside his dilated pupil that haunts you and eats you from the inside out all within one glance.
His eyes have grown so dark, like burnt chocolate. He himself has grown so dark. And almost alien like, you almost don't recognise him and you wouldn't know it was him if you didn't see his freckle.
"What happened to you, viktor?" Your brows arched upwards. Your face spoke volumes, and viktor knew he couldn't get out of this again.
He liked to avoid arguing. It was his ignorance and arrogance that led to his undoing. Viktor was the love of your life, but watching as he, time and time again, ignored the issues that were arising within your relationship.
"I can't keep doing this viktor I can't." Tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him.
His Amber eyes like a desert, barren and dry, and with little to no sense of water outside of the tears that threatened to drip from the ducts.
"I don't know what you want from me." viktor looked at the floor.
He always looks at the floor.
"I want my husband back. I can't keep watching you deteriorate and not do anything about it"
Viktor weakly banged his mechanical, purple fist against the bedpost, shaking it slightly. Your lips parted, and your eyes tried their hardest to soften.
"I am not sick." Viktor sneered. "I am an amalgamation of all that is me. I never wanted my human body"
You tilted your head as you sat up, your hand reached for his, and for the first time in a long time, there was magic that wasn't just a blue crystal.
"Being human isn't just being sick. It's being able to feel every emotion. Small or big, whether you stub your toe or go sky diving, it's all about the experience" you smiled at him.
Your face was hopeful that viktor would understand. But his own said otherwise, he seemed almost monster like with his deep purple eye bags and his darkening eyes. His cheekbones are more defined and more prominent than ever. His hair is longer and messier.
"Outside of you, I have nothing to live for." His lips curled down into a pained frown.
Nothing? What about jayce? And hextech? And a future where piltover and zaun exist peacefully? What about the children you could have and how you will grow old together?
"You have everything to live for"
"I HAVE NOTHING!" Viktor exclaimed, his voice hoarse and raspy. Almost alienlike
Your poor boy was so tired. He was so very tired.
"If you do not want to keep living like this. Just say it. Say it, and I'll leave." Viktor spoke gently.
"Leave? N-no I don't want you to leave?!"
Your mind raced a million miles an hour. Your eyes darting around, panicking. "I want you to stay, so that w-we can fi-fix this"
Viktor shunned his head away and shook it. You could see in his face, even now, that he has so much on his mind and he doesn't know what to do with it.
"We are beyond fixing, my love. Our paths are long diverged, and it was simply our souls that have kept us together. " viktor stood up straight and leant on his decorated cane.
"N-no," you shook your head.
Standing up in front of viktor, your eyes pleaded with his own. There was no longer the curious and hopeful sparkle in his golden brown eyes, but now a river of tar and mahogany.
"Is it better for us to die together?" You asked.
"We died long ago. I will not die with you again. You need to let me go. You do not want this with me"
"I want everything with you -"
Viktor put his cold metal hand on your tear stained face. His thumb stroked your cheek gently.
"Do not cry, love"
"Viktor..."
You spoke featherlight, barely audible.
"Goodbye, my love. I hope that there is a world where I did not turn my back to you"
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kaiseamr · 2 days ago
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"S-so good..."
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virgin! Luffy X afab! Reader ─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ─── ! ! MDNI ! !
'Twas a regular day on the sunny... The sound of the waves, the crew talking, everyone doing their normal routines. You were enjoying a mouth watering margarita made my Sanji and reading a book while breathing in the fresh air. Then your captain, Luffy uses his devil fruit to stretch his way towards you. "Hey! Whacha reading!" He giggles. "Oh it's just a book about a murder mystery." You put the drink down and give your full attention to Luffy. "Hmm... Sounds boring you should come with me!" He blushes, but just a tad. "You feeling ok Luffy?" You put your hand on his head. "You look a little red, you feeling sick?" Luffy quickly shakes his head. "N-no! I'm fine... Even if I wasn't I would go straight to Chopper!" He looks away trying to avoid your eyes. "I know but you can tell me..." You frown and look concerned. "Listen, I just feel weird! I don't know what's happening with me but I keep feeling something, and it happens every time I'm near you! It's like you're poisoning me!" Luffy shouts. You're a bit startled by his sudden outburst but quickly calm yourself down. "Luffy... What are you feeling." "I don't know... My heart is beating fast, I'm sweating. And I feel like my pants are shrinking!" He looks at you shyly. "O-ok... Uhm. I don't think that's normal, and what do you mean your pants are shrin-..." You look down a bit. "Oh... Luffy don't worry forget what I said about this not being normal. This is actually quite common. I just can't believe you don't know..." You get a little flustered. "What do you mean?" He looks confused and puts his hands on his hips. You get up and take his arm and walk to a room. "Where are we going?!" He yells at you. "Hey this isn't funny..." He pouts. You bring him to your room. "Luffy I need you to tell me you 100% want help." I look at him seriously. "Yes! I do want help." He folds his arms. You move him to your bed and make him sit down, you pull down his pants and his underwear, he's already hard, extremely hard. "W-woah! That's my private!" He looks flustered. "I'm gonna help you Luffy..." He bites his lip when you touch his cock. You hear a little whimper escape from his lips, you just lose it and start stroking his cock. "A- Aaahh~... That feels weird but good!" He moans out. You wrap your lips around his cock and tease his tip. "God! S-so good... You tongue feels so good!" He tangles his fingers in you hair and tugs. He immediately comes, you can't blame him though. This might be his first time. Suddenly his grabs you and lays you down on the bed. He quickly pulls off your clothes. "L-Luffy! What are you doing!" You blush and moan. But he doesn't answer, he just smashes his lips on your lips. The kiss is very sloppy but he doesn't care, he just wants to get all his frustration out. He moves one hand to your breast and squishes it. You moan in his moan and he understood that what he was doing made you feel good. He moves the hand that was kneading your breast your cunt. He doesn't know how to touch you because he's only touched himself before so he takes off you panties and pulls away from the kiss. You both are panting. "Luffy... Please." He's not even listening to you anymore he just wants you, he needs to be inside of you. He lines up with your hole and thrusts in. How did he know what to do? Maybe it's like second nature because he's a guy? You thought. But you can barley think when a dick is going in and out of you so you just moan and whimper for more. You only onto his neck. "Please Luffy! It's so good, feels so good!" You scream into his shoulder. "Yeah? God the way you squeeze around me!" He moans into your ear, its like you just vacuumed his voice into your brain. He begins to move faster and harder. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Yeah I'm done 😭
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prcttylittlebirds · 3 days ago
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"it was just out of habit, I guess." he says, not denouncing her statement. "I do like how your name sounds, though-- wasn't saying that just because..." being around olivia for the court wasn't the most comfortable situation for him, but he's glad all of that is over, of course, there's bound to be some discussions surrounding her, whereas his relationship both platonically, and hopefully romantically-- is concerned. "i believe you. besides, sometimes i internalize things, like the cabin thing, obviously. i got too in my head, and i'll admit i got a little carried away earlier." rafael has never had any issues with admitting to his wrongdoings. he knows that he should tell venus everything upfront. his honesty would clear up her suspicions of any residual feelings for olivia, but there's too many extra people around for that conversation. "when you put it like that, i can see what you were trying to say... i apologize for overreacting, the facetime thing just bothered me. it felt as if he was interrupting my time with you." he opens his bag to grab his water bottle. after taking a few sips, he moves over to sit closer to her. "jealous of... hm, i just feel that sometimes there's a disconnect between you and i when it comes to relatability." he shrugs. "differences are, good... i worry we're too different when it comes to certain things and romance things aside he can understand you in ways that i'll probably never grasp." he smiles listening to she likes. venus list the differences "I'm never drinking too much in front of you again, i sound like a blubbering idiot. you can't understand a word i say... as for cooking; i can heat up stuff?" he snorts.
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"when i shorten olivia's name it's not in an endearing way. it's just what i call her--sometimes, it's well... shorter? i didn't realize that would annoy you. it's different from me saying your name. which is why i rarely shorten yours, i think you have a unique name that matches your personality. i like how it sounds." rafael already knows why he sat through an entire wedding for his ex-wife, but he isn't about to explain that now. they're already in a bad situation as is and blurting out his brief issues with infidelity would definitely result in him getting kicked out of the tent. "that's insulting, but okay..." he doesn't speak immediately, instead he folds his hands together and sits there with his thoughts, and he had a lot of them. "you gave me an answer, and I appreciate you giving me a real one, but no, i didn't like it." his voice is low, as he says his opinion on her answer. it was straightforward and he'd rather she say it like that than give him a sugarcoated one. "get it... i heard you... i accept the answer. you wouldn't date him. i just hope he doesn't flirt with you while i'm present. if that's flirting, clearly i can't tell the difference." he doesn't comment on the issues he had in his marriage because olivia didn't spark the cheating-- he did. all she did was retaliate and file for divorce. "i am jealous. saying it only puts words to what it is that i'm feeling. you don't take it seriously." he adds. "i know what kind of person you are. i'm still learning a few things, but i know you wouldn't do that kind of thing." rafael doesn't let the act of her expressing her frustrations toward him, rattle him. he simply returns the sentiment. "to answer you, i wouldn't drop you for anyone, or anything, no."
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opbackgrounds · 5 months ago
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There's no logical reason for Laboon to be happy, but his happiness makes me happy and that's all that matters.
And Luffy must have used the most waterproof paint known to man, because there is not a single mark or scratch on that Jolly Roger
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