#i barely tolerate STEAM.

[exculis]

absolutely fucking NOTHING is allowed to start on my pc at startup... if i want you i will call you. the audacity to just invite yourself in...

[targaryenluvs]

— ALL GROWN UP

pairings: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

warnings: normal coryo in all honesty, jealousy, flirting, p in v, oral (m), choking, kinda subby coryo - for a bit, time gap he spent a year in 12 (i got lazy this is short and basically just porn with slight plot)

a/n: hehehehe first fic of 2024 kiddos besides the klaus one!

your laughter was the last thing coriolanus wanted to hear, ever. it was still annoying when he was here, and it was still once he returned.

"there's no way!" tigris giggled a loud as you joined in.

"tigris?" he called out to her, waiting. "coryo!" tigris yelled as she ran to him, his arms open for her. "it's so good to see you, you’ve been so busy." you laughed, "your hair, it's worse in person." would you shut up? who were you to interrupt a family-

your night dress was black, short, barely below your crotch. lace details, messy hair, you were nothing short a of a dream, and it was messing with his head. he was so use to hating you, your stupid gorgeous face and here he was, dumbstruck. “y/n?” you nodded with a sweet smile, “how are you coriolanus?”

he sighed, “exhausted, between the university and dr gaul, it seems i’m stretched thin these days.” you nodded along, “it seems you’re well on your way to success.” he inhaled, not use to your kind words, “thank you.”

apparently you were staying with the snow’s for a week or so, much to coriolanus’s elation. surprisingly, in the time he’d been away you’d become, tolerable. it sure as hell had nothing to do with the sway in your walk, your sweet eyes looking up at him and your new found confidence, no he just felt nice.

he was itching to get a taste.

he’d seen you out and about, talking with almost all the people around. a kind smile aimed at quite literally everyone. almost every guy in the restaurant seemed to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

didn’t they know you came for lunch with him?

shouldn’t they know better?

you weren’t his, yet.

it was late at night, you needed something to drink.

grandma’ams tea isn’t exactly the most refreshing. you were in the midst of scouring the kitchen for a teabag of actual flavour when you’d heard him behind you.

“looking for this?” he held the jar in his hands, “actually, yes.” you walked over to grab it and he only held it higher, “coryo, please.” he grinned, “coryo huh?” you placed your hands on your hips, annoyed, “yes, now if you don’t mind.” the jar clattered on the counter and you quickly swiped it away. “would you like some?”

in the reflection of the glass cabinet, you saw him shake his head, “i’m in the mood for something else.” you giggled at his vagueness, “oh? and what might that be mr snow?” his smirk was all you needed to know what he was hinting at. “you’re playing a dangerous game here coryo,” he feigned confusion, “am i now?” you smiled, “yes you are.” he was behind you now, breath heavy and hot on your shoulder, “i might be, question is, are you willing to play?”

his lips were on your neck, light as ever, open mouthed kisses all the way up to your cheek. “cory” he gathered your hair, swinging it over your shoulder, “cory? that’s new.” you smiled, “i know. i’m going to take a shower, wanna join? to conserve water of course.” as if they need to, they had more than enough money now.

“to conserve, of course.”

the hot water rose steam, surrounding you as coryo watched from outside. the fog covered up all the parts he wanted to see, and his night pants seemed smaller. soap running all over you, soft hands trailing down. “i think you’ll get a much better view from in here.”

he ripped his clothes off, practically stumbling around in the soft glow of the guest room lamp. he’d been waiting for so long. ten minutes. his hands massaged your scalp, washing it off remaining shampoo and conditioner. ridding your body of any soap, your shoulders, your stomach, your thighs.

and soon enough he pressed you against the wall, imprints of hands staining the glass. you were both unbearably needy, messy kisses and desperate touches. you revelled in his grasp, you felt as if your skin was on fire. “y/n, please.” he whined. you giggled at his begging, “please what coryo?” you stroked his dick as he groaned out, “suck me off. now.” you laughed at his words, “pretty bossy for someone who was whining like a little bitch two seconds ago.” he was about to protest but your warm mouth on him seemed to shut up all forms of protest.

“oh god.” he leaned his head back on the wall as you dug your nails into the back of his thighs. the water pouring down on the two of you made coryo glisten, his abs looking especially sweet. droplets of water fell down from his hair onto you.

as if you weren’t enough the view of you on your knees, your tuts on display was more than enough for him to explode down your throat. “fuck, when did you learn to do this slut? you been practicing f’me?” his attempt at regaining control had you suppressing your laughter.

but his hand in your hair tugging you to your feet, crazy eyes and a very attractive smirk? “only for you cory.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kissed him, “all for me.”

“please, cory. i need you.” you leaned your head against his as he directed his cock to entrance, teasing you. “you want it?” you nodded your head vehemently, “god just please, fuck me.” he kissed your cheek before pushing in, “anything you say baby.” you moaned out at the feeling of him in you, filling you to the brim. you felt unbearably hot, between the running water and coryo rutting into you it felt like heaven.

you can feel the wetness dripping down your thigh, mixing in with the water, “messy girl, aren’t you?” your hands dug into his shoulders almost painfully, “jump up.” wrapping your legs around of his waist, his hands cupped your ass. his pace is unbelievably brutal, “such a bitch to me, making me look weak.”

you shook your head, “didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to i swear.” you mewl, hot tears streaming down your cheeks, as coryo lets out throaty groans.

“stop crying.”

“i can’t, you feel so good!”

“stop crying or i’m not gonna let you cum.” his hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your airway. the dizziness paired with his thrusts inside of you was absolutely delicious. he let up only to mark you before returning to it.

“not yet," his grip around your throat tightened as coryo continued thrusted into you, obviously chasing his own high. "you'll cum when i do.” please cum. you thought, please please please.

his hips slowed down as he groaned, “fuck, all for me yeah? all grown up, aren’t you baby?” your nails marked up his back as he grunted, the hot water seemed to make the fresh marks hurt all the more. coriolanus loved the stinging, almost as much as he loved your cunt.

“cum, cum for me.” you weren’t sure if your release came before or after, but all you felt was unwavering pleasure and relief. you rested your head in the crook of his neck, you were so exhausted. “you did good, so good y/n.” coryo praised you as he pressed kisses to your forehead.

“let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

[hard-core-super-star]

push me on the counter, call me princess [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

warnings: PURE SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> mentions of cheating! [no actual cheating, though! wandanat have an agreement, R doesn't know about it until things get spicy]; mommy + daddy kink; nipple play; impact play; wanda using her powers to hold R down; fingering [R receiving]; oral [Nat receiving]; twinges of humiliation; degradation + praise; nat's a little mean but we love her for it; use of the term 'slut'; probably more but i forgot

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: so...i'm technically not doing anything official for kinktober this year because school is kicking my butt already BUT i have a few ideas for some very filthy smut fics so i'll be posting them this month. i haven't written for wandanat in a minute so i hope i did them justice. please let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

That's what you told Wanda when she pushed you against the farthest wall in some dingy, badly-lit, New York bar.

The two of you had come back from a long, draining, mission and, instead of staying at the Compound and actually resting, you decided to go out and get drunk to let off some steam. The mission had technically been a success, but it had also been a pain in the ass...and in the shoulder, thanks to the knife wound you'd received.

So, yeah, maybe going out wasn't the best idea in the first place.

In your defense, it was borderline impossible to say no to the witch. Mainly because she was very convincing when she wanted to be, but also because of your massive, and borderline ridiculous, crush on her.

To make matters worse, Wanda was pissed off at Natasha for...something and you ended up taking the place of a supportive partner.

It would have been fine had the drinks in your system not made your inhibitions lower significantly, which rendered you helpless against the green-eyed woman of your dreams. Then again, it's not like you were particularly against that idea in the first place.

Maybe that made you a horrible person.

Maybe that made Wanda a monster.

But how could she be one when she whispered the sweetest words in your ear while taking you over the edge and destroying you in the most pleasurable of ways? How could there be anything wrong about her soft caresses and gentle smiles?

A part of you knows the answer. It's wrong because the witch's heart isn't yours. Or worse, because someone else's heart belongs to the witch.

Because for all their problems and arguments, Wanda and Natasha love each other. At the very least, they tolerate each other enough to stay together.

And you don't fit into their relationship.

You shouldn't.

But Wanda isn't a person you can just ignore.

She makes that perfectly clear no less than a week after your little "mistake".

You're in the kitchen at the Compound, eating some leftovers and scrolling through your phone to keep yourself occupied, when Wanda walks in. You don't need to look at her to know she's pissed off. Her energy is way too heavy to mean anything else.

"Hey, Wands," you say, barely looking up from your phone out of fear of falling under her spell once more.

She walks over to you, leaning against the counter and silently watching you for a second. Her silence honestly scares you, but you don't question her yet. You know better than that.

"You've been avoiding me," she says, her voice soft yet not gentle. "Why is that?"

A shiver runs down your spine at the question. 

You know you can't lie to her, she's a freaking mind reader, but you can't exactly tell her the truth. You've both been trying to ignore it since the morning you woke up tangled together in her bed.

A bed she shares with someone who isn't you.

"I've been busy," you reply with a shrug. "Kate's been forcing me to train every day."

Clearly, that's the wrong answer, considering the tilt of her head.

Yup. You're fucked now.

"Is that so? I didn't realize you two were such good...friends."

Wanda pushes herself off the counter, taking slow, calculated, steps until she's standing behind you. If you weren't so focused on keeping your voice steady, you might have been able to guess what her plan in.

"Well, we both love annoying Clint and making Yelena mad."

She hums in response as her arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you back until you're firmly pressed against her. 

The action almost makes you fall off your stool. You somehow stay put, though, even as every fiber of your being tells you to leave. The harsh truth is that you don't want to leave.

You want her so badly that the consequences don't seem to matter.

Nothing matters but her.

Which is exactly what she wants.

"You should be careful with the little archer," she says, her hands not so subtly caressing your sides. "You know she's just going to use you then throw you away when she's bored."

The irony in her words isn't lost on you.

You open your mouth to let her know that when her hands move up and brush against your chest. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from gasping.

"Wanda," you hiss. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."

"Relax, detka," she whispers into your ear, your body instantly obeying her words. "You know I won't let anyone see."

"Do I?" you reply. "Because it seems exactly like something you'd enjoy."

The witch chuckles despite herself. "That's true but you're not the only trying to keep things a secret."

You know her words should make you feel worse about this whole thing but right now, they only serve to turn you on. As messed up as it is, there's something exciting about the situation. 

About how much Wanda wants you.

So, even though you know you should push her away, you lean back against her, allowing her hands to explore your body however she wishes.

Your obedience (if you can even call it that) is instantly rewarded by the other woman. Her hands sneak their way under your shirt, her fingers drawing teasing shapes on your warm skin as she makes the journey upward.

"You're such a good girl for me, baby," she mumbles almost absent-mindedly. "Letting me use you like this. Letting me play with you whenever I want."

A part of you wants to put up a fight. To show her you have a bigger backbone than she realizes. That you're able to switch the tables on her whenever you want.

Unfortunately, that part of you goes quiet the second her fingers find your nipples. "Look at you, all ready for me, huh?"

"Shut up," you mumble as your cheeks heat up.

Your words of defiance earn you a sharp pinch to your already sensitive nipples. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."

It's impossible to stop your back from arching as the leftover sting rushes through your system. You'd learned the hard way that Wanda could either be the sweetest or the most unforgivable lover. In a way, it made being with her all the more exciting...and unpredictable.

Then again, you can't pretend you don't like it. If you didn't, you would have never gotten mixed up with her in the first place.

"Sorry," you whisper, not sounding particularly sincere.

If Wanda notices, she doesn't point it out and instead goes right back to playing with your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples as she pleases.

Her actions only serve to make you more and more desperate for her. It's almost embarrassing how good she is at reading you. At knowing exactly what buttons to push to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess.

A part of you knows it's thanks to her powers that she can read your desires so well, but you ignore the thought for now. You could beat yourself up over all this later, right now, you had a very important task ahead of you.

"You're eager today," she teases, her eyes zeroing in on the slight movement of your hips. "Did you miss me that much?"

You're not sure why you're in such a defiant mood today but your mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. "Yeah, Kate was too busy today."

You don't see the scarlet that begins to overtake her eyes since you have your back to her. You miss the warning signs until she uses her magic to bend you over the counter, keeping your hands behind your back.

"You're going to regret talking to me like that," she says, holding you down easily thanks to her magic.

It's obvious you should apologize and yet you remain as composed as you possibly can given the situation. As stupid as it is, you're still mad at her for putting you in this situation.

Out of the two of you, she was the one who was in the wrong. She was the one fucking up her relationship just because she was upset with her girlfriend. And she had the audacity to pull you down with her.

To make you like it.

You couldn't place all the blame on her and yet you did it anyway. As if that would somehow fix the entire situation.

Her hand comes down on your ass before you can make your predicament worse. The sudden sensation makes you jump, the leftover sting taking over your mind.

"Wanda." Your attempt to sound mad falls completely flat since your voice is far too breathless for it to be convincing.

She spanks you again. Once. Twice. Each time striking both harder and faster.

"Try again, detka," she tells you, her voice unforgiving. "And then maybe, I'll go easy on you."

She won't.

You know she won't. But the idea that she could is more than tantalizing enough.

Although, then again, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy calling her by her beloved title.

"Mommy," you whisper, your voice sounding way too loud in the empty kitchen.

You don't need to be looking at her to see the proud grin that takes over her features.

This is the real reason why she wants you. Why she likes being with you. Because she doesn't need to fight you to get you to submit to her every whim.

"Good girl." Wanda's hands toy with the waistband of your pants. "Tell me what you want."

You allow the silence to drag on for a second longer than necessary. You both know you won't deny her, you can't, but that doesn't mean you can't keep her guessing. 

Maybe then she'll grow tired of you and stop using you so carelessly.

"Want you to touch me...please, mommy."

You half expect her to drag the moment out until you can't hold yourself back from begging for more. For her.

She doesn't, though, because unbeknownst to you, she's playing a different kind of game with you today.

Wanda uses her powers to undress you, barely giving you a second to register just how vulnerable she's leaving you. You know no one will walk in on you two, she promised you that much, but that doesn't make it any less scary...and thrilling.

"Look at you," she coos, her fingers spreading your slick folds. "So wet and I've barely even touched you. Such a needy thing, aren't you, sweetheart?"

It's embarrassing how hard your walls clench around pure air from the mere tone of her voice. It's that intoxicating mix between degrading and sweet that you want everything she's willing to give you.

"Yes, mommy," you whimper.

"Oh, I know," she says, pushing the tip of her index finger into your tight cunt. "She's such a good girl, isn't she?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but her powers hold you down and stop you from turning to look at her. Your question is answered before you can even ask it, though, as a certain pair of black boots make their way into your field of vision.

"I'm not sure." The sound of Natasha's voice sends a shiver down her spine. "She looks like a desperate slut to me."

Wanda stops you from answering, thanks to her powers. "Oh, come on, Nat, don't be mean. Look how eager she is to be played with."

The redhead rolls her eyes. "That just proves my point."

The witch laughs, taking the moment to sink her finger deeper into your pussy, relishing the wet sounds that fill the kitchen. You're more than a little humiliated, but there's nothing you can do to stop it. Worse, there's nothing you can do to deny how wet the situation is making you.

How desperate you are for more.

Wanda knows. Of course, she knows. It's partly because of her powers and partly because she knows your body far too well. And because she knows you so well, she gives you a chance to call the whole thing off before it even truly starts.

"What's your color, y/n?"

It would be so easy to say "red" and stop everything. You know there would be zero judgement. That despite whatever agreement they've come to, they'd both take a step back and make sure you were okay.

And yet...you can't seem to form the word.

Because, as much as you don't want to admit it...you want this.

"Green..." you whisper.

Wanda leans in, taking your mind off of Natasha's eyes on you, and peppers soft kisses across your back. The softness of her lips is a stark contrast to her previous demeanor and it helps calm down your speeding nerves.

The Russian steps forward, her hand cupping your face and gently tilting it backward until your eyes meet. "You want this, don't you, darling?"

You don't want to admit it but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. "Yes...I want this."

The sharpness in her eyes fades away slightly. There's still an edge of annoyance in her features but she looks almost as turned on as you feel. "Good girl."

Your walls clench around Wanda's finger and she chuckles before starting to move in and out of your tight heat. "I think she likes you, Nat."

"Shut up."

Wanda adds another finger into the mix, expertly stretching you out and drawing out a long moan from your parted lips. "That's it, just give in, sweetheart. Doesn't it feel better when you stop thinking so much?"

It's startling how right she is.

She doesn't wait for an answer this time, though, she simply speeds up her movements, curling her fingers in the way that drives you crazy. The pleasure slowly overwhelms your mind, removing all other thoughts until all you can focus on is how good it all feels. How much you like submitting to them like this.

"Mommy..." You whine, watching the way Natasha's eyes darken in response to your sounds. "Please...need more."

"Aw, are two fingers not enough for you, baby?" The fake pity in her tone turns you on more than it should. "Does your greedy pussy need more?"

You nod desperately, ignoring the humiliation that lingers in your every move.

All that earns you is another laugh from Wanda and an eye roll from Natasha.

The redhead steps back from you, causing you to whimper, before her hands move to her belt. Her eyes remain on yours as she starts removing her garments, slowly revealing the red strap-on resting between her legs.

Your lips part almost instantly once you catch sight of the full size of it and just how incredibly dominant it makes Natasha look. You shouldn't be surprised considering what everyone, including Wanda, always say about her. Then again, seeing is believing.

"So fucking eager, aren't you?" You know the Russian is technically making fun of you, but you can't help feeling a bit proud of yourself for the grin on her face.

She steps forward, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair and guide you forward. There's something weirdly soft about her movements, about the way she takes her time with you. Maybe, just maybe, she likes you more than she's let on.

You wrap your lips around the head of the dildo, your eyes glued to Natasha's face. You can see the flecks of pleasure spreading across her features, the way she clenches her jaw to stop herself from vocalizing it. It's like you're stuck in a far too arousing competition with her. Each of you trying your damn harderst to break the other.

Unfortunately for you, you also have Wanda working behind you, her fingers restlessly pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. She knows exactly how to wind you up. 

Exactly how to keep you on your toes yet wanting more.

Natasha guides you further down her cock, working the length deeper into your mouth. "You look so much better like this, malyshka."

"I told you," Wanda pipes up, choosing that exact moment to work another finger into your tight heat. "You just wanted to be a party pooper."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be next, Maximoff."

"You're no fun."

You've never heard Wanda like this. So pouty and borderline bratty. It's a stark contrast to the dominant woman you've grown so attached to. To the one that turns your brain to putty with just a few words.

"Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Mommy's still in charge here."

You moan in response, the sound muffled by the dildo currently stuffing your mouth.

"If you're Mommy," Natasha says, starting to thrust into your mouth. "Does that make me Daddy?"

You try to voice your approval for the title but neither of the women pay attention to you. They just keep talking like you're not even there, like all you are is a toy for them to play with.

"I thought you didn't like being called that."

The redhead shrugs in response. "I don't but now I'm curious."

"I think our good girl would like it."

You wait for Natasha to complain and say something about how you aren't theirs. Maybe make fun of you again for even thinking they'd ever entertain that idea.

She doesn't, though.

All she does is double her efforts as she keeps thrusting into your mouth. 

The kitchen fills with the sounds of your pleasure as they both play with your needy holes.

You feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each one of their well-timed thrusts. You're completely at their mercy and you love every second of their never-ending show of dominance.

Of control over you.

Wanda's movements speed up and you do your best to ask for permission to cum, knowing all too well the consequences that would await you if you forgot. It's practically impossible to speak, though, considering the way Natasha is still thrusting into your mouth, her hips grinding against the base of the dildo each time she slips the length back inside.

"I know, baby," the witch reassures you. "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

All she gets is a muffled whine in response, your body jerking forward when her thumb teases your swollen clit.

"Go ahead, darling," Natasha speaks up, her voice practically a low growl. "Cum all over Mommy's fingers for me."

You're not used to receiving such a command from the redhead and yet your body reacts immediatly to her tone. Your whole body seems to come alive as you fall over the edge, Wanda's fingers never ceasing in their movements. She expertly draws out your pleasure until you're left shaking and panting. 

The ringing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear the string of moans that leave Natasha's mouth as she watches the scene. The sight of you coming undone so violently causes her to fall apart, her fingers tightening in your hair until you're sputtering for air.

Thankfully, Wanda knows your limits well.

No words are exchanged as she uses her magic on you again. You're barely coherent, your mind still too muddled by pure pleasure and the cotton-filled haze of submission.

She gently sets you down on the couch, wiping down your soaked skin with a wet cloth, making sure to look you over in case their rough movements bruised you up.

"You okay, darling?" The witch asks as she settles down next to you.

You nod in response, shifting a little until your head rests in her lap. "Yeah...just tired."

"You should get some rest, detka. We have a lot to talk about."

Her words make you laugh. "That's an understament, Wands."

"Whatever." She moves her hand down to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as sleep overcomes you.

There's a lot you don't understand, a lot you really figure out, but you feel safe with the knowledge that you haven't ruined anything. That you're not an intruder in their relationship. If anything, you're a welcome addition.

[shomatoriashi]

10/19/24; 06:53pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ they comfort you while you’re feeling insecure ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

warnings: dieting is mentioned in sylus’s story. if this is a major trigger for any of you readers, then you don’t need to read this story ♡

it was such a mystery why sylus chose to be with you, of all people.

deep down, you knew he could pick any woman in the entire universe-

so why did he have to settle down with someone as plain as you?

why did you feel like a sack of potatoes while standing next to sylus?

why did the haughty laughter that came from the usual women sylus made business deals with affect you so much?

a particularly bad memory resurfaces, and you bite down harshly at your bottom lip, recalling a time where sylus had invited you to a business dinner with him. while he spoke about plans of expanding onychinus, the mafia boss’ daughter sneered at you, her slender yet curvaceous body made you feel worse about your own self image. you barely picked at your plate of food, knowing that you were far from being slender, and you became increasingly aware of how the curve of your abdomen could be seen from your tight dress.

needless to say, you didn’t have much of an appetite after that meeting.

with the memory of that woman’s sneer still fresh in your mind, you decided to diet a bit while cutting down the amount of foods you ate. you no longer snacked on your favorite sweets and tried to eat more steamed vegetables, avoiding carbs and proteins altogether. you figured since vegetables were like a superfood, then you’d be able to drop down some pounds and obtain a much better figure-

one that was more suited to remain by sylus’s side.

a week into your new diet, you did feel a bit lighter, and as you watched the pounds decrease, you had plans of further decreasing your calorie count-

however, sylus manages to put a hard stop to it. while you were making a simple dinner that consisted of a plain salad, sylus was felt sneaking up from behind you, trapping your form from behind him. you gasp and look up at him, feeling the way his large hand encircles around your wrist.

“s-sylus? what are you doing?” your eyes were wide, watching as he remains silent all while holding your wrist within the palm of his hand.

“you’ve lost some weight.” sylus tells you with his eyebrows furrowed. he takes a hold of your chin and forces you to look at him, “and don’t think for a minute that i haven’t noticed the change in your diet. although steamed vegetables and salads are good for you, they’re not enough to sustain you.”

hearing the concern in his voice makes you break down immediately. the hunger pangs came back to you at full force, making you wince as you land against sylus. “s-sorry, it’s just… i always feel so bad when i stand next to you.”

tears were streaming down your face, and sylus merely hums in response, taking you in his arms while allowing you to vent about your feelings.

“i-i’ve never really been too skinny… because of my appetite. and i guess… it’s just, being next to you and seeing all the women that’s part of your world- it bothers me how i’m not like them, and-“

sylus then silences the rest of your words with a searing kiss. he would not listen or tolerate you speaking down to yourself ever again, and as your lover, it was his responsibility to make sure you felt beautiful every single minute.

once he was certain you had calmed down, he pulls away from the kiss first, resting his forehead against yours while saying your name in an almost exasperated manner.

“there’s a reason why i never wish to be with those women, and that’s because they can never be you. i wish you could see yourself through my eyes and realize just how beautiful you are to me.”

tears began filling your vision, making sylus smile sweetly at you as he gently caresses at your hair, “you don’t need to do anything- to change anything about yourself. what i feel for you is, and always will be, something unconditional. so please, don’t starve yourself and cut out the nutrients you need. you need to eat a thick steak to build your muscles and maintain your energy. pasta and bread can help with filling you up, and i know how much you love sharing ice cream sundaes with me as well.”

feeling so grateful at having such a wonderful boyfriend like sylus, you lean up to press another lingering kiss against his lips, all while telling him, “ah, a steak with some buttered rolls and a salad sounds so good right now.”

sylus lets out a rich chuckle, pressing a kiss against your hair before heading towards the stove all while rolling up his sleeves, “you got it, sweetheart.”

when you woke up this morning, you felt distracted by your reflection, feeling a shudder run down your spine at seeing the various acne that littered your face.

never one to have clear skin, you found yourself pouting at your reflection. as you looked at the new patches of acne settled against your cheek, you frown. it wasn’t like you didn’t take care of your skin. every night, after you showered, you always made sure to wash your face while keeping it moisturized while doing your usual routine-

yet that didn’t seem to be enough, as you always seemed to breakout at the most inopportune times. perhaps today was a bit more meaningful since zayne’s parents were going to stop by the house and have dinner with the both of you.

you had never met zayne’s parents before, and the fact that he invited them over just to finally meet you was both endearing and overwhelming for you. deep down, you were afraid that his parents would reject you, labeling you as beneath their son while harshly telling him that he could do so much better than you.

those self deprecating thoughts kept repeating themselves within your mind, causing you to panic. leaning closer to the mirror, you focused on the patch of acne and tried to pop each and every one of them. it felt like your hands kept clawing at your face, making your eyes water as you tried to get rid of the acne the best way that you knew how to.

you jump slightly upon hearing a knock at the door, hearing zayne’s voice calling out your name before entering the bathroom. he sees the tears in your eyes and how your fingertips were placed against the bumps seen on your cheek.

he frowns, shutting the door from behind him while taking quick strides towards you. “what are you doing?”

your lips began to tremble, giving zayne a defeated expression as you angrily wiped away at your tears. “s-sorry, i just… i feel so mad right now, with my face breaking out like this. and i’m going to see your parents soon, and i look like a mess. i’m terrified that they’re going to compare me to you and say that you deserve so much better-!”

zayne suddenly cuts you off by bringing you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight embrace while drawing comforting circles behind your back. you cling to him like a lifeline, allowing the tears to stain at the front of his shirt.

“don’t ever speak that way about yourself ever again.” zayne tells you in a whisper, pressing a kiss against your temple before framing at your face. he takes a moment to admire your features all while running the pad of his thumb against the patch of acne seen against your skin.

“these… don’t bother me at all. to me, you have always been achingly beautiful in my eyes. and that is never going to change. the whole reason i wanted to invite my parents over was so that they could meet you and know that i am serious about you- about us.”

he smiles down at you, taking in your cute pout before leaning closer to press a chaste kiss against your lips, “now, don’t pick at them anymore. give them some time to heal, and just make sure you wash your face every day to help.”

feeling immensely better now, you throw your arms around zayne, pulling him close as you giggled, allowing him to pick you up as he headed towards the walk in shower, “did you wish to shower together? perhaps then, i could show you just how beautiful you are to me.”

and truly, who were you to deny the love of your life?

to say you were amazed at managing to capture xavier’s heart would be the understatement of the century. in fact, how you both met was under some unorthodox conditions.

you had simply been running errands when an outbreak of wanderers were seen just a few blocks away from you. you had unknowingly stepped into danger, and when you were close to get attacked by one of the monsters-

xavier had appeared before you, slashing away at the wanderer with his weapon. he keeps himself in front of you, not daring to move away from you until the threat has been eliminated. throughout it all, you were in a daze, simply admiring how swift and deadly xavier’s movements were as he dealt with the rest of the wanderers.

only when the coast was clear did he finally meet your gaze. “are you okay?”

you could only manage to give him a nod, ready to thank him when a stern voice breaks through, “xavier, is everything alright on your end?”

you look back to see a stern, but beautiful woman taking quick strides the hunter you assumed was known as xavier. he sheathed his weapon and gives the woman a slight bow. “yes, i’ve dealt with the wanderers here on the eastern part of the city.”

“good. i’ll go ahead and assess the damage with the others.” she runs a hand across her sandy brown hair, leaving you alone with xavier. trying to ignore your own features and how plain you felt in comparison to the woman, you thank xavier for protecting you before telling him you would head home.

the young hunter prevents you from leaving him, gently encircling his hand around your wrist. “wait, let me escort you home, just to be safe.”

seeing the way his sapphire eyes were shining brightly against the sunlight made your knees feel weak for him. giving him a stiff nod, you allow xavier to walk with you back to your apartment complex, convincing yourself that this would be the first and last time you would see him.

so imagine your surprise when he walks with you up to your apartment all while sweetly asking you if you’d like to go out on a date with him sometime. of course, you were filled with shock, remaining flabbergasted as you struggled to find the right words to say.

yet at the end of it all, you accepted his offer for a date. and one date turns into two dates, then three-

and you found yourself remaining together with xavier for close to a year now.

you couldn’t understand what xavier saw in you, since each time you would see xavier work at the association, you became achingly aware of how gorgeous his female coworkers were. this left you feeling a little more than inadequate, wondering why you agreed to be with xavier when he was surrounded by so many girls that were prettier than you.

and such thoughts were enough to render you useless, making you lay in bed for the entirety of the day. as you wallow in your thoughts, you heard your phone go off with your usual text tone. curious as to who was texting you, you look at your screen and freeze, reading xavier’s text:

hey, i got off early. u wanna hang out together? i’m free.

pursing your lips, you leave his text on read, tossing your phone aside before wrapping your blankets tightly around your form. a few seconds later, your phone goes off at least 5 more times, and you were certain it was xavier trying to reach you once more.

you remain in bed, dozing off here and there while wrapped up in your cocoon. you lost track of time, and stiffen when you heard the sound of your front door opening. feeling panicked now, you quickly sit up in bed, hearing footsteps walk into your apartment, revealing xavier just a few moments later with a bag of takeout in his hand.

“hey, i got worried when you didn’t text or call me back, so i figured i’d stop by and check on you.” xavier was frowning slightly, settling the bag of food on top of your desk before sitting on the bed with you.

you run a hand across your tangled locks of hair, “uhm, how did you get in here?”

xavier hums, reaching into the confines of his sweater to pull out your spare key settled on a lanyard. “you gave this to me during our four month anniversary, remember?”

you felt your cheeks heat up in response, leaning forward to gently trace at it. “y-you kept this on you all this time?”

xavier nods, all while gently gripping at your hand, “what’s bothering you.”

“nothing’s bothering me.” you tell xavier a little too quickly, making his frown deepen in response. he ends up tightening his grip on your hand. “that’s not true, and i want you to be honest with me.”

meeting his gaze, you could see the determination shining in them before sighing. “i…i feel really plain in comparison to the women you surround yourself with at the hunters association.”

you watch as xavier’s eyes go wide at your admission, yet still, you continue to explain to him, “i just… i feel like im not pretty enough compared to them. and it- it really is such a mystery why you’re here with me.”

xavier shakes his head for a brief moment before surging forward, giving you a searing kiss as his lips were perfectly slotted against yours. you moan into his kiss, allowing your fingers to delve into his hair as he deepens it.

once he was satisfied with the kiss, xavier pulls away from you, all while flashing you a gentle smile. he frames at your face once more and rests his forehead against yours, “the reason for me being here with you is simple, really, and it’s solely because i love you. you make me so happy, and i love being able to protect you while keeping you in my arms.”

“to me, no other woman can compare to you… and i like you best when you have no makeup on and are in comfortable clothes.” xavier smiles and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, “to me, you’re beautiful at all times of the day.”

feeling your heart soar thanks to his honest words alone, you fling your arms around your beloved, holding him close while basking in his kisses. and when he moves his kisses away from your lips and towards your features, you allow xavier to kiss away every insecurity that you felt.

the whole world knew of how beautiful rafayel was-

and that was what sent your thoughts down into a spiral, with you wondering what he even saw in you to begin with.

your first meeting started out as nothing short of romantic. by some twist of fate, you and rafayel happened to frequent at the same café, and as you were scrolling through your phone while taking sips of your coffee, you became aware of a cute boy heading towards you from your periphery.

he smiles at you, amethyst eyes shining with amusement and mirth as he slides a torn piece of sketch paper toward you. on the paper was by far the prettiest rendition of your likeness that you had ever seen. you were honestly impressed by this young man’s talent and asked him if this was how he truly saw you.

he ends up nodding his head in answer to your question. “absolutely. you’re utterly gorgeous, and i knew i had to try and capture your features into my memories somehow. the name’s rafayel, by the way.”

despite your best efforts, you end up grinning widely at him while telling rafayel your own name. the young artist repeats it, as if tasting the syllables on his lips while leaning closer to you. “say, would you like to keep this sketch i made of you?”

“y-yes! i’d love to keep this!” you end up holding the piece of paper close to your chest, earning a rich chuckle from rafayel.

“if that’s the case, then you’ll have to pay for it; and the only payment i’ll accept is if you agree to go on a date with me.”

oh, this guy was a smooth one, and he had caught you-

hook, line, and sinker.

of course, you agreed to go on a date with him-

yet that one date was enough for rafayel to claim you as his girlfriend.

and you’ve been with him ever since.

rafayel was by far the sweetest, and most gorgeous man you had ever dated. sure, you had your bumpy moments-

but the love and happiness you felt with him was something that couldn’t be ignored. he was worth every ounce of your time, (even if he had a tendency to be moody and spoiled).

however, with your growing happiness when it came to being in a relationship with rafayel, there was a lingering sense of doubt as well. for starters, you didn’t look quite as perfect as rafayel did, with you having acne scars scattered throughout your body (mainly on your face and your back).

these lingering scars was what made you shy away from more loose fitting clothes, with you often wearing long sleeved shirts or sweaters to keep your lingering acne and scars hidden.

in fact, you hated them so much that you couldn’t stand to look in the mirror at times.

feeling anxious and unable to keep still, you decide to stop pacing around your shared bedroom, not wishing to distract rafayel as he painted his latest piece. grabbing a plush towel, you head into the bathroom and turn on the faucet of the walk in shower all while shrugging off your clothes in the process.

settling the towel off to the side, once you were bare, you get into the shower and remain beneath the shower spray, basking in the heat. you continue to remain motionless, all while resting your head against the slick shower wall.

you had no idea how long time had passed, and only jumped when you heard rafayel’s voice calling out to you.

“i heard you were in the shower for roughly half an hour now and got concerned, so i’m coming in.”

protests were heard coming from your parted lips, yet rafayel ignored every single one of them, tossing his clothes in a pile before entering the shower with you. his bright eyes remained filled with love for you when he grabs the bottle of body wash and places a significant portion on the sponge. with a hum of your name, rafayel slowly begins lathering the soap all across your form.

“what’s on your mind, princess?” you shiver, feeling your entire body relax as rafayel worked on cleaning your body. taking in a deep breath, you gather your thoughts for a moment before finally admitting to him, “i’m just… feeling really insecure. i keep thinking as to why you’re with me.”

rafayel stops washing your body to let out a scoff. “i’m insulted you feel this way. what do you even mean?”

“i-i mean, look at me, rafayel. i have lingering acne scars on my back, and i don’t have a face that would make people turn their heads to get a better look at me. i’m no ravishing beauty-“

rafayel then presses a lingering kiss at the back of your naked shoulder, making your breath hitch in response. he continues kissing you, trailing his lips softly against your skin as you felt his every touch on your back. as evident from his movements, it was clear that he was kissing at the acne scars that marred your back.

“do you remember the day we first met, and i had given you that sketch?”

you shiver in response, managing to nod in reply to his question. of course you remembered that day, how could you possibly forget what had to have been the happiest day of your life?

“that day, when i first saw you and how you casually sipped at your coffee, i was drawn to the soft and natural beauty you had. i don’t care about models or any other beauty standard that girls tend to follow. what drew me to you was how you seemed to exude a hidden kindness… and just… knew then that i had to capture your features and forever immortalize it in that drawing.”

he places one last kiss against your back before turning you around so that you could face him. tears were seen welling up in your eyes, and you couldn’t stop them from cascading down your face when rafayel frames at them. he caresses at your cheek while telling you, “you have always been the light of my life… and that’s never going to change, because in my eyes, no one would ever be able to compare to you.”

you clench your eyes shut and give him a nod, unable to speak to him due to how much your throat was felt clenching up in response. giving you one last smile, rafayel leans in to quickly give your lips a chaste kiss.

“now, how about we finish this shower, then later on, we’ll order your favorite takeout while watching a movie together.”

more than ready to experience such a fun and relaxing night with him, you give your beloved lemurian a nod before leaning even closer to his touch, allowing him to spoil you as his reverent caresses against your skin makes every insecurity you felt disappear in an instant.

end notes: don’t mind me, i was feeling pretty low about myself and how i looked, and wrote a little something to help with comforting me 🥹 if any of you readers have similar insecurities, then i hope this fic comforted you as well ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[heartsandhischier]

definitely the annoying little brother

luke hughes x female!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader

summary - 5.2k words. living in an apartment with your best friend is great, but living in an apartment with your best friend and his brother... not so great

author's note - so... got a little carried away with this one, might write a part 2 idk yet but I love cocky Luke

warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing, smut (first time writing so hopefully it isn't total shit)

When you first moved to New Jersey, you felt completely lost. Don’t take it the wrong way, it was great—a prestigious college, a change of scenery, and the promise of a fresh start. But your journey took an unexpected turn when you bumber into someone, quite literally crashed into someone, drenching him in your freshly bought coffee.

That someone was Jack, who had also just moved to New Jersey after being drafted by the New Jersey Devils. Like you, he was lost, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new beginning. Quickly, you became best friends, each other’s anchor in this new and unfamiliar state. You were each other’s confidants and biggest supporters, always there to lift one another up, no matter the challenge—cheering him on from the stands during his rookie year while he helped you with your schoolwork, or at least tried to…

You supported each other through thick and thin.

When you suddenly found yourself without an apartment, Jack didn’t hesitate to offer you his guest room. What started as a temporary arrangement soon turned into something more permanent, as both of you realized that living together just felt right. What was meant to be a short-term solution naturally evolved into a lasting living situation.

When Luke was drafted, you were perched on the edge of your seat in the apartment, eyes glued to the screen in anticipation as the New Jersey Devils prepared to announce their pick. The moment Luke’s name was called, you jumped up from the couch, overwhelmed with joy. You were thrilled, not just for Luke, but because you knew how much this meant to Jack—being able to play alongside his brother, to grow and improve together on the ice. You watched the screen as Jack sprung from the couch, shaking with excitement. He had told you before, that if Luke was drafted by the Devils, he would move into the apartment. Rather than feeling any apprehension, your strong friendship with Jack made you excited to live with the two brothers.

But here you were, pounding angrily on the shared bathrrom door, “LUKE! Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna be late!” The reality of living with Luke was far from pleasant or fun as you had imagined.

Luke was definetely the annoying brother of the three.

Unlike Jack, who was always kidn and considerate, Luke seemed to barely tolerate your presence. He often made snide, witty comments, as if he took some kind of pleasure in getting under your skin.

The apartment had turned into a warzone, filled with incessant arguing, shouting, and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. In jack’s absence, there was no one to play the peacemaker, no one stopping the two of you from getting at each others throats. Luke was leaving the bathroom a mess, his toiletries scattered everywhere, piling dirty dishes in the sink, not even bothering to put them in the dishwasher, and even taking your clothes out of the dryer and dumping them on the floor so he could use the machine. He even went as far as throwing a party the night before your midterm.You couldn’t hep but feel like he was doing all of this on purpose. You knew he was raised well, with proper manners and common decency—Jack was living proof of that. You knew, you knew he was doing it on purpose. Luke was intentionally firing you up, pushing your buttons. And what bothered you the most, was that it was working.

Luke finally unlocked the bathroom door, and as he swung the it open, a cloud of steam escaped into the hallway. His hair damp, a towel casually wrapped around his waist, showing off his toned muscles. “You don’t need to spend that much time in the bathroom, especially when you end up looking like that,” you snapped, arms crossed in frustration.

“Like what? Incredibly handsome?” Luke shot back, a smug smirk spreading across his face.

“No, like shit,” you fired back, not missing a beat.

“Well, you’re not exactly a sight for sore eyes yourself. So you don’t really need the bathroom before school anyways,” he chuckled, clearly satisfied with his comeback. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes and pushed past him, eager to get on with your day.

-

“Come on Y/N,” Jack whined, his voice dragging, practically on his knees, begging. His team was heading out to celebrate their victory from the night before, and with your schedule finally clear after endless stress, Jack insisted that you’d join them, arguing that you deserved a break. However, his team included a certain someone—Luke. The thought of spending hours into the night, subjected to Luke’s endless barbs and comments, now potentially amplified by alcohol, spelled nothing but trouble in your mind.

“I’ll put you on my tab, if you come,” he offered wiggling his eyebrows, trying to sweeten the deal with the promise of a free night out. You couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation, “Come on, we both know you’d do that anyways,” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully at him.

“Please, I’ll clean the bathroom for the next three weeks,” he proposed.

“Four weeks.”

“Fine, four weeks. And I’ll make you lunch for those weeks too,” he said, extending his hand in a peace offering.

“Deal. But I’ll skip on the lunch since you barely know how to cook brocolli.”

-

“Aren’t we going to wait for Luke?” you asked, slipping into your boots, a hint of curiousity in your voice. Jack chuckled at your questiong, catching your eyes in the mirror as he straigthened his jacket. “What, have you suddenly become best friend with your ‘enemy’?” he teased. “Absolutely not,” you snorted, “Just wanted to know if I needed to prepare for a battle to get us in the back seat.”

The Uber sped through the bustling streets of New York, skyscrapers flashing by in a blur. Luke had headed out erly with Holtz and Mercer, granting you a rare moment of peace on the drive to the club, free from the usual bickering.

The elevator chimed, announding your arrival at the club’s level. As the doors slid open, you were greeted by a breathtaking panoramic view of New York City—the virbant lights and endless stretched out before you, leaving you momentarily speechless. “Pretty sick, right?” Jack playfully nudged you, his smile infectious, clearly proud of the evening’s choice. The club’s interior buzzed with energy, packed with people moving rhythmically beneath the glow of shimmering lights. The music enveloped the space, so loud and deep that the bass seemed to vibrate through the very floor. With a reassuring grip, jack took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving towards the table where his teammates were gathered.

They all excitedly greeted the two of you, ushering you both to join them at the table. You loved Jack’s teammates—they were just as kind and welcoming as him, making everyone feel included and part of the fun. They had a way of making you feel like you belonged, as if you were a part of the team.

And then there was Luke.

He didn’t even glance in your direction when you approached the table, too invested in his conversation with Timo to care—yeah sure.

As soon as you sat down, the drinks were served—Jack with his usual beer, and for you, a Tom Collins, your all-time favourite. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Jack had even gone out of his way to make sure you got your favourite drink.

After a few more drinks and plenty of hearty laughs, Jack pulled you out of your seat and onto the dance floor. The music immediately took over as you started moving, and you found yourself actually enjoying the moment. Dancing with Jack, you felt genuinely happy, grateful that you’d agreed to go out. In that moment, you forgot all about his annoying little brother.

Dancing, completely lost in the ruthm and music, you noticed your glass was empty. Sldiding through the crowd, you made your way to the bar, skillfully navigating the sea of people, all moving to the same infectious beat. The bartenders were a blur of activity, moving with swift precision as they tried to keep up with the endless stream of orders shouted by eager club-goers.

While waiting to be served, you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned around, meeting the drunken gaze of a stranger. “What are you getting beautiful?” he slurred. He was undeniably handsome, but the whole encounted made you feel uncomfortable. You tried to respond, but only managed to stumble out an incoherent answer.

He leaned in closed, his breath hot against your ear, “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place?” a shiver ran down your spine, and not the good kind. All you could muster was a sheepish smile, your mind racing for a way out. In a sudden, unwelcome move, he leaned in, clearly aiming for a kiss. You froze, unable to move, instinctively shutting your eyes, bracing for impact.

But the kiss never came. Eyes still closed, you heard commotion.

“Back off. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Opening your eyes, you found Luke standing between you and the stranger, his body tense as he had pushed the man away, shielding you from his advances.

“You okay?” Luke asked, his voice softening as he lightly brushed your arm, his towering presence offering an unexpected sense of security. You looked up at him, slowly giving a small nod, your mind still racing. What the fuck just happened?

Without missing a beat, Luke turned to signal the bartender, “Two Tom Collins’ please.” The bartender nodded in acknowledgement and swiftly got to work on the drinks.

As he handed you one of the glasses, Luke’s hand gently found its way to the small of your back, guiding you with a suprising tenderness toward the dance floor. The music, once again, enveloped you, its rhythm quickly helping you forget the uncomfortable encounter at the bar.

You found yourself dancing close to Luke, closer than you had ever been before. You felt weirdly comfortable in Luke’s presence, and it seemed he noticed, his hand resting gently on your hips, his voice teasing. “For someone who complains so much about me, you seem pretty okay with standing this close to me.”

His comment took you by surprise, a rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You quickly retorded, trying to mask your fluster, “Trust me, if the club wasn’t this packed, I’d be standing lightyears away from you.”

Luke smirked, leaning in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe you’ve just realised how much you actually enjoy my company. All those complaints might just be your way of getting my attention.”

You sturggled to maintain your composure, caught off guard by the unexpected closeness. “Dream on Luke. If I wanted your attention I’d just lock myself in the bathroom with you,” you shot back, trying to sound unfazed.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you,” he replied with that damn smirk—you wished you could just slap it off his face.

What. Was. Happening?

Confused and a bit flustered, you mustered up an excuse and rushed through the lively crowd toward Jack at the table.

“Enjoying youself?” Jack’s voice pulled you back to reality, his tone playful as he nudged you.

“Fine!” You responed, rolling our eyes at him. “I’m having fun. But you didn’t have to make them get my favourite drink,” you laughed, giving into his bright smile.

Jack joined the laughter, but there was in his response that made it seem like he was laughing at you, not with you. He tilted his head, genuinely puzzled as he looked at you. “I didn’t tell anyone to order your favourite drink.”

“Well, who’s in charge of the tab tonight?”

“Luke.”

-

The next few weeks, you did everything you could to avoid Luke. The whole situation at the club… it left you confused. It was so unexpected, yet for some reason, you didn’t mind the closeness that you felt that night. But you couldn’t face him. You started waking up hours earlier than necessary just to avoid the usual bathroom fight, lingering around for extrahours before class or work. It was ruining your sleep schedule, but you convinced yourself it was for the best.

Your eyes were glued to the bright screen of your phone—3 AM. You let out a frustrated sigh. You couldn’t sleep. The room felt like an oven, the early arrival of summer in New Jersey wrapping your bedroom in an unbearable warmth. The stress of upcoming exams weighed heavily on your mind. And the thought of having to get up in just two hours to avoid Luke didn’t help much either.

Defeated, you pushed yourself out of bed, sliding into your fluffy slippers. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you sighed—you looked a mess. Hair tied up in a messy bun, and Jack’s New Jersey Devils t-shirt hung loosely around you.

Whatever.

At this ungodly hour, no one would see you anyway.

Carefully, you pushed the door open, trying to minimise the telltale creak. With light steps, you tiptoed down the hallway, heading for the kitchen. The gentle glow from the counter lights greeted you, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room—Jack must’ve left it on. However, the comfort quickly turned into dismay when you spotted the very person you’d been trying to hard to avoid for weeks on end—Luke. His back was turned, his curly messy, and a pair of pajama pants hung loosely around his waist. His back muscles, his shoulders—everything was on display.

The sight of him triggered an immediate fight-or-flight response—you needed to get out of there before he noticed you. You turned your heel, but your slippers betrayed you with a sharp squeak against the floor.

“Going somewhere?”

You cleared your throat, gathering the courage to face him as you slowly turned around. There he was, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal cradled in his hands—his midnight snack. “Just needed some water. Didn’t realise I had company,” you managed to say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

He let out a soft chuckle, the spoon in his bowl making lazy circles. “Can’t sleep either, huh? The kitchen’s open for all, y’know.” He wasn’t wrong. Despite your efforts to keep your distance, you did in fact live together, and spaces like the kitchen were neutral ground, even at 3 AM.

“Yeah, I… I guess I’ll just grab that water then,” you replied, navigating the awkward silence that filled the room. You reached for a glass and made your way to the sink—coincidentally right next to where Luke was enjoying his cereal. His presence towering over you as you filled your glass with water.

“You know, for two people who claim to hate each other, we do end up in the same place a lot,” Luke observed with a smirk that you could feel rather than see.

You scoffed, trying to maintain a façade of indifference. “We live in the same apartment, Luke, and your brother is my best friend. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Well, you’re wearing my t-shirt, so don’t blame me for getting the ‘wrong idea’,” he countered.

“This is Jack’s.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’ve been looking for it for weeks, thought I lost it. But now I know you just wanted to feel like you were sleeping next tome.”

You scoffed, annoyed. “In your dreams, asshole.”

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you to mere inches. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked. I’d gladly let you sleep in bed with me,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice as he towered over you.

Heart racing, your voice caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. In a moment of panic, you retreated, mumbling an incoherent “I have to go,” as you hastily made your escape.

-

The usual calm and comfortable space of your apartment was transformed tonight into lively space buzzing with energy, laughter, and booze. It was Jack’s birthday, and as his best friend, you were determined to throw him the best celebration possible—a surprise party. You pulled all the strings, inviting friends and teammates, and with the off-season granting a rare break, Trevor, Cole, and Alex were able to join the festivities. As you navigated the cluster of people, a glass nestled gently in your grasp, your gaze inadvertently landed on Luke. By his side stood a girl whose laughter harmonised so seamlessly with his, it almost seemed choreographed.

A strange unease began to coil within you at the sight. There was Luke, entiraly absorbed in conversation with whoever this girl was, and something about it unsettled you deeply.

“Seems like Luke’s really hitting it off, huh?” Trevor’s voice cut through the hum of the party, his tone playful yet pointed as he caught your fixed gaze and gave a teasing nudge.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you responded, striving for indifference even as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You weren’t sure why, but the sight of Luke and that girl, felt like it lodged itself in your chest.

Jack’s laughter soon joined in, bright and unaware of the subtle tension you were feeling. He slapped your shoulder playfully, “Luke’s always been a charmer. Who’s the lucky lady this time?”

You attempted a nonchalant shrug, trying to shake off the knot forming in your stomach. “No idea.”

-

“This is nice isn’t it?”

The sun was shining, pouring its warmth over Jersey City, a gentle breeze complementing the heat perfectly.

As you wandered through the city with Jack, it felt like old times, just the two of you. His excitement was contagious, sparking a lightness that had been missing for too long.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And we live together!” he joked, playfully nudging you, but you could sense the underlying truth in his words—he genuinely missed these moments together.

And he was right, it had been a while. The efforts you’d put into avoiding Luke had eventually affected Jack as well, since the two of the basically shared the same schedule. You didn’t want to tell him the truth—that you were avoiding Luke and then possibly having to explain why.

“Yeah, I’ve missed this, it’s just that I’ve been drowning in schoolwork lately.” It was a bad excuse, but it was the best and most realistic you could come up with.

Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful day, you suggested heading to one of your favourite cafes. The idea of soaking up some sun while catching up seemed perfect. Once you found a spot in the outdoor seating area, you offered to go in and order for the two of you. By the time you returned with to coffees, the dynamic at your table had unexpectedly changed. Two additional figures were now seated beside Jack, their curls a dead giveawat—you recognised those curls anywhere. A sigh escaped your lips as Jack, beaming with enthusiasm, gestured towards them. “Hey, Y/N! Look who I found!” the two curlyheads turned to face you, John and Luke greeting you with smiles, with Luke’s carrying his signature, teasing smirk.

Reluctantly, you put on a fake smile and settled into the chair next to Jack, doing your best to remain composed, polite, and NOT awkward. The conversation flowed effortlessly around you, but you remained quiet, occasionally offering a nod or a brief reply. Your eyes shifted between John and Jack, deliberately avoiding Luke, as if by ignoring him, you could somehow make the situation less complicated.

Eventually , John and Luke made their casual exit. You managed a tight smile and a polite wave, holding on to your façade of composure until they were out of sight. The moment they were gone, jack’s attention snapped back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Why were you acting so weird?”

Suddenly, the café’s cosy outdoor setting felt more like an interrogation room, and you were in the hot seat.

“Wha-what do you mean?” your voice wavered despite the smile you plastered on. “I was not!” you countered, hoping the denial sounded more convincing to his ears than it did to yours.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, as if he had just cracked the code. The revelation seemed to knock him off balance, almost sending him tumbling off his chair. “Oh my god,” he whispered, a mix of genuine shock and amusement in his voice as a chuckle escaped.

“You’re sleeping with John, aren’t you?”

A wave of relief washed over you at his misinterpretation. It was better than telling him about Luke, right? After all, jack was still Luke’s older brother, and you couldn’t risk jeopardising your friendship with Jack, even if whatever was going on with Luke meant something.

Caught between the fear of losing your best friend and the chaos of the moment, you found yourself nodding along before the word “yes” tumbled out. And now, you possibly just made your situation even messier.

-

Once again, you found yourself at a bar with Jack and his teammates, the night serving as a farewell toast before everyone dispered for the off-season. The bar buzzed with a contagious mix of laughter and the clinking of glasses, everyone savouring each other’s company before the inevitable goodbyes. Throughout the evening, you’d successfully avoided both Luke and john, skillfully navigating the minefield of awkward encounters. You also… may have indulged in a few too many drinks to steady your nerves.

As you found yourself back at the bar for yet another round of liquid courage, you sensed someone approaching. Turning around, it wasn’t Luke’s familiar curls, but John’s. you managed a somewhat forced smile as he settled beside you. “Hey, Y/N, having fun?” he asked with a smile.

You nervously accepted your drink as it arrived, taking a sip that was perhaps a bit too eager. “Yeah, it’s great hanging out with you guys!”

An awkward silence fell between you, filled only by the sound of your silent sipping. John’s laughter suddenly cut through the tension, breaking the ice with ease as he chuckled at the obvious awkwardsness of the situation. “Y’know, Jack’s been chirping me relentlessly tonight. Mentioning something… interesting… about us.” You groaned, mentally facepalming yourself.

With a playful gesture, he pointed his finger between the both of you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did… did we sleep together one night and I just forgot?”

“No no no!” you rushed to clarify, flailing your hands around, desperate to clear up the situation. John, is of course, handsome, and after a few too many drinks on a night out, it could’ve happened under different circumstances. The absurdity of it all hit both of you at once, and you burst out laughing, dissolving any lingering awkwardness between the two of you.

John theaterically placed a hand over his heart. “Phew, good. Wouldn’t want Luke getting all jealous on me.” Your laughter echoed his, agreeing wholeheartedly—until his words fully registered. You never mentioned Luke. “What did you say?”

John merely winked and offered you a pat on the shoulder before making his exit, leaving you at the bar, more puzzled than ever.

As the evening unfolded, the flow of drinks seemed never-ending, each one blurring into the next. Suddenly, you found yourself seated in the passengerseat of a car, the lights of New Jersey streaking past you in a dizzyin display. Barely able to keep your eyes open in your drunken state, you looked over to the driver’s seat—Luke. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be driving,” you slurred.

“I was sober tonight, Y/N. and you… you were way too drunk. We’re going home,” Luke responded, his tone lacking its usual lightness, replaced by a firm, blunt edge. The drive was engulfed in silence, a tensions hanging in the air that even your drunken haze couldn’t miss.

“So, cosying up with John?” Luke remarked, a hint of something indefinable in his tone.

Luke had seen you at the bar. His voice carried a weight, one that echoed the same unease you felt when you saw him with that girl at Jack’s birthday.

Words failed you as you tried to respond, a string of incoherent mumbles and half-formed words spilling out of your mouth. You felt like you were burning up, put on the spot, panicking. “Trying to make me jealous?” You blinked in shock at his question. There was no hint of anger in Luke’s voice; instead, he sounded amused. You could feel his smirk.

As you finally mustered up the courage to face him, there it was—that infuriating, captivating smirk. Part of you wanted to punch it off his face, yet another part for inexplicably drawn to it. “I… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, struggling to articulate your thoughts. Luke let out a soft chuckle, one hand leaving the steering wheel, landing comfortably on your thigh.

“I’ll admit it, I got a bit jealous. But I know John wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, giving you thigh a gentle squeeze. You were totally lost. Luke was jealous? Why? You weren’t trying to make him jealous. Your intentions had been the polar opposite—you were trying to avoid him.

And here you were, alone, in the car, with Luke.

“And I know you wouldn’t do that either. You’re too charmed by me, aren’t you?” The car came to a stop; you were outside the apartment. Luke finally turned to meet your gaze. His question hung in the air, leaving you speechless. You weren’t interested in Luke, at all. You were just confused.

Right?

“Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me?” His words struck a nerve—he knew. He knew that you had, in fact, been avoiding him. You found yourself locked in his gaze, unable to pry your eyes away. Luke didn’t look away either; it was as if he was uncovering every secret, exploring every inch of you with his eyes.

In a swift, almost breathless moment, he leaned over, his lips finding yours. The kiss caught you by surprise, yet the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. Instead, you found yourself surrendering—melting into the warmth of his lips. Your hand instinctively found its way to his curls, fingers weaving through them, pulling him closer,deepening the kiss.

You were moving in perfect sync.

His hand reached out, unlatching your seatbelt, freeing your from its restraint. With an ease of urgency, you climbed over the midconsole, never losing the precious contact between the two of you.

His hands found their way to your hips, finger pressing into the soft fabric of your clothes, pulling you even closer. Arching your back at the contact, your clothed core merely inches away from him, only your clothes separating you. Intoxication swept over you, but it wasn’t the alcohol swirling through your veins that left you dizzy – it was Luke. it was the touch of his hands roaming around your body, the feeling of his lips on yours, it was him. And you needed more. Your hands seemed to take on a life of their own, grasping at his shoulders, tugging at his curls, wrapping around his neck – anything to be closer to Luke.

Lost in the moment, straddling Luke in the drivers seat as you deepened the kiss. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer as you grind against him, feeling him harden beneath you. The friction was maddening, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

You simply couldn’t help yourself.

With a groan, Luke pulls away, leaving you both gasping for air. But the respite is short-lived as you felt Luke’s fingers grazing your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He hooked his fingers under the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as he slips inside, his fingers finding your clit with ease.

But you can’t, you’d been wanting this, needing this, needing him. Needing Luke.

You let out a soft moan, giving yourself over to the feeling of his fingers exploring your most sensitive area. At first, Luke’s fingers moved in small, teasing circles, bareuly brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, just watching you fall apart on top of him.

In the haze of pleasure, you found yourself drawn to Luke’s eyes. They were dark, intense, however, there was a hint of care, and maybe even love, taking in every moment of your reaction to his touch.

You couldn’t look away if you tried. Trapped in his gaze, the car filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and whimpers – you didn’t want to escape.

Luke’s eyes never left yours, watching with rapt attention as your breath hitched in your throat. Your face flushed, eyes closed tight, feeling the pressure building inside you. Luke’s fingers sped up, pressing harder against your clit.

Suddenly, your vision faded, the orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Collapsing on top of him, your breath coming in short, sharp, gasp as you tried to catch your breath. Luke pushed away the mess of your hair, gently caressing your chin, tilting your face so you could meet his gaze. He was smiling, not the usual shit eating smirk, but smiling with genuine care and affection.

What just happened?

[wannaeatramyeon]

DG x Reader: Bodyguard

G/N. Cracky. You, the bodyguard. DG, the 'helpless' idol. Masterlists

When the rest of DG's senior team insisted he get a bodyguard, he thought it was a joke.

What sort of idiot would attack James Lee.

Then he remembered he's not James Lee, at least not to the general public. He's Diego Kang, CEO of PTJ Entertainment, an idol with amazing moves and an ass that won't quit but no fighting experience.

Right. Right. 

He supposes that makes sense. It would've been suspicious to say no, especially with his legions of stans and stalker, and his prior history.

.

.

You're not exactly who he would have picked.

Bodyguards are usually monstrous, huge, intimidating men. You're not really any of the above.

In fact, you're kinda cute. And apparently your resume is also impressive enough too.

"Perfect candidate." 

"Extensive training." 

"Unmatched awareness." 

-were chirped into his ear before he gave you his nod of approval.

Besides, DG thinks it might work to his advantage to employ someone so unassuming.

.

.

"No upskirt pictures!" You yell at the paparazzi, parting them to make way for the pink-haired idol, and pointing accusingly.

DG, in a moment of complete confusion, peers down to his own legs in case he really did wear a skirt.

No. He's in his pants, of course he is. His clothing is supplied as part of his sponsorship deal. Why would he be wearing a skirt?

"What was that?" He asks, when you're piled into his minivan. Brows knitted together instead of his usual cold, impassive expression.

You give him a shrug, "Just in case."

"In case of?"

"Just in case," you repeat, tapping your nose and nodding knowingly at him.

.

.

Now, he remembers.

During one of his many many boring meetings, when you were officially under his employment and before you started, he had been warned you might be like this.

.

.

“No pictures today!” you holler and the paparazzi groan.

Someone brave enough shouts back why.

“DG lost all five MAMA noms and he’s in a terrible mood. He might ask me to kill you if you take any pictures,” you say back solemnly and without humour.

DG feels bitter but not that bitter. Upon hearing your words, he stifles a laugh into his sleeve and disguises it as a cough.

.

. 

To sum it up, you're an oddball. 

Still, DG tolerates you because of your flashes of brilliance and your brutal honesty.

"Here, sir." You offer up a steaming hot drink and DG raises an eyebrow. "Honey and lemon. For your throat."

When DG doesn't take it, you finally explain. "Your singing sounded awful, sir. Thought you might need it."

Ah.

He did think he sounded off but the yes-men at the studio told him otherwise. He should have trusted his own instincts and makes a mental note to replace them.

DG chuckles to himself before taking the first sip.

.

.

"No touching please," you jump in just as a fan is starting to get handsy.

"Excuse me?!"

You turn away from them, letting their indignant outrage slide off you and usher DG on to the next group to interact with.

DG gives you a nod of thanks and you give him a subtle wink back.

.

.

"You best not be zooming in on his tits," you snarl at another paparazzi. "No under boob, side boobs, any boobs!"

DG glances down at his chest. Fully concealed in a mock neck jumper. There's no bare skin on show at all.

"Can you explain?" He asks, once you climb in the minivan after him and slide the door close.

"You know." You say, handing over another honey and lemon drink.

"I don't, actually."

"You know," you repeat, eyes signalling towards his chest area and hand gesticulating at your own. "And, y'know." 

You nod at his hot drink and pull a face, indicating that he was pitchy as hell in the last rehearsal.

DG shakes his head at your antics but takes a sip regardless.

.

.

"For you, sir." You hold out a brand new baseball cap with both hands and head bowed respectfully.

"I don't want this."

"Yes but you need it."

"..."

"For your bad hair day."

"What?"

"Trust me, sir."

DG narrows his eyes at you. You're rude as hell, no tact at all. He’s not sure if you even have a filter, or you just say whatever thought pops into your mind. 

However.

Somewhere along the way, he finds that you're the only person that tells him the truth.

He takes the cap and thrusts it on his head.

"Much better!" You pipe up with an oblivious grin, adding insult to injury.

.

.

"What are you doing?" DG pulls a face as you wrap your arm around his waist and hurry him on.

"There's someone tailing you," you murmur, "I've been watching them for the last five minutes."

There is? How on earth did this person get past his radar?

As if answering his thoughts, you tell him, "They look like a normal ajumma. No-one would have suspected her if I wasn't watching."

You pick up the pace and DG matches you stride for stride.

"Your manager is waiting just up ahead with the car. I'll take care of them." You give DG a salute and a toothy smile as he looks at you in alarm.

In all honesty, you look a bit helpless. Yes, your resume looks great and yes, your recommendations are glowing but DG hasn't actually seen you in action yet. He can't help the way his stomach lurches thinking about you in danger.

And what if this isn’t an untrained, rabid stan, but someone who knows about his other life and is after James Lee?

"I'll be fine, sir!" You turn quickly and sprint off in the opposite direction at breakneck speed.

.

.

A couple hours later, after DG has paced endlessly back and forth, you show up at his office.

Your hair is a little out of place, and your regulation suit is a little dusty but you're otherwise untouched.

"Are you ok?" his eyes snap to yours.

"Of course, sir!" Your beam is as bright as ever.

DG exhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, relief overwhelming him and he desperately wills his pulse to return to normal.

"Call me James," he sighs when he realises it's not working and his heart seems to beat quicker and louder now you're in sight.

You don't ask any questions like why James, why not Diego. You accept it at face value, no doubt having some secrets of your own.

Your smile is unfaltering as you respond, "Sure thing, James, sir!"

[jolalibrary]

you're a storm

simon ghost riley x f!reader (call of duty)

summary: because we're friends. are we? don't see a queue of other people putting up with your shit, ghost.

warnings: brief mentions of smut, p in v. friends to something close to a relationship (this is ghost). somewhat moody ghost. wordcount: 2.1k dedicated to @theashfallx who deserves a slab of softness and tattoos.

It’s raining. 

Just like the day you'd first appeared. 

You’d been drenched in it all, baptised for the introduction—droplets falling from your sleeve as you said your name, Price hanging back. 

Your credentials had been told to them all a month ago. Not really asking if any of them minded, more telling them all. More him, than the others.

He supposed he’d do the same if he were in Price’s position. 

Now, pellets hammered against everything they could, including the single-glazed window of his room. It sounded like it was hitting tin than glass, oddly reminding him of you—your talks of caravaning with your family or thin sheets and watching storms out across a sea. 

You’d shared it with him once. Your eyes all transfixed on the lightning in the distance. Hands cupped around a mug that was no longer steaming in the centre of the place they were bunkered down in.

When’s the last time you slept? When was the last time you did, Lieut?

Lieut.

Not L.t. Not lieutenant. Some shorthand version you called him, simply because. 

You who was now avoiding him because of his chosen silence. Because words had caught on the back of his teeth. His fingers not quite quick enough before you’d left him alone. 

He used to like being alone, but somewhere between your rambling and lying next to him, you changed it. Changed him.

It’s the sole reason he’d stepped out. Tired of the four walls of his room, seeking a new space rather than any sort of conversation.

After all, he despised words. He preferred orders. Something concrete, not argued against. Enjoyed the unspoken ones shared between nods and occasional glares. 

Ghost somewhat tolerated (liked) Johnny, sometimes even Gaz. 

But you were the anomaly—the difference. He didn't tolerate you, he secretly wanted you. Wanted a smile, a laugh. Happy and content with just that.

No one knew—not even you—that sometimes you managed to tug a smile behind his mask. That your words from that day began painting themselves in his mind when he should be sleeping.

You share a lot for someone with a redacted file. Well, I like to keep those poking around, guessing.  I’m not guessin’.  No. Guessing means you could be wrong, and you like to be right too much for that, don’t you, Ghost?

You had a habit of pulling things from him. Words. A snigger.

It was all as though your smaller hands had found some rope, pulling on it until he began giving them to you more easily than he did the rest. You didn’t know everything, but he assumed what you didn’t, you’d guessed. 

He’s seen firsthand how you fill in gaps. The way you assess and ascertain. It’s there when you stare at maps, hearing briefings—practically spots the marker in your mind circling things to question. 

It's why he's not sure how you didn't guess you mattered to him.

How that you couldn't see.

He hears a clap of thunder, somewhere in the distance. Thankful it's a short walk to the canteen, the air thick with the scents of mossy earth and dirt before he’s met with the aroma of food and too many bodies trying to stuff themselves before lights out.

Not you, though. 

Ghost watches you slip out through the opposite doors. Across tables and too many bent heads for him to get to with any sort of quickness.

He smirks, if only to himself.

Watching as barely a head lifts from the rest of your comrades and table at your exit.

But then, if they’d been paying too much attention, the gig would have been up a while ago. The secret out. There would have been opinions poked in the holes of their tryst—questions hurtled that had no answers either of you wished to confront. 

He didn’t have friends, but he did have you.

Some scrappy thing which didn’t like to sleep, didn’t like to lose—and had the most stunning eyes. They seared into him even when surrounded by paint, cheeks smothered in mud and lashes clotted with sand. Burned a hole right through him that no amount of time would heal. 

It didn’t help they found him often. Practically sought him, landing on him as though there weren’t others who deserved it. 

Then he gained your sarcasm. Your whispered thoughts and soft smirk. 

At some point between annoyance and admiration, you stepped over the line into friendship. He kept his eye on you outside of being your lieutenant; you checked on him for reasons he didn’t understand. 

If you get lonely at home, my address is in your phone. I don’t have a phone.  Ah yes, the very secret thing at the back of your second drawer isn’t a phone, Ghost. 

He’d considered it: texting. 

Why? Because we're friends. Are we? Don't see a queue of other people putting up with your shit, Ghost.

He'd almost called, merely to check in. Not wanting to visit or any real company, just the sound of your voice to convince him that you’re alive—that you hadn’t slipped in the shower or fallen into a sleep you’d never wake from. That you weren't hurt.

Ghost never called, didn't send a thing. Because it meant something if he did. Meant he cared, meant he’d latched—two things he tried desperately not to do. 

And then, a new line was crossed. One jumped over because of circumstances the two of you hadn’t prepared for. 

Your stubbornness and foolishness caused a blade to lodge in your thigh in a takedown—maroon flowing from around it, beginning to spread. Your radio message made something drip down his spine, his blood cold before Ghost managed to hack up gruff orders that fell from his tongue like lava. 

The metal was still sticking out when he found you, all unmoved from your leg, a half-smile plastered across your cheeks.

He's knocked out, not dead. Don't care, le— I didn't take it out, Ghost. It's better I don't, right? Let me see.

You almost don't let him. And while you’d seen his face, his hands had still shook as he slipped the gloves from his fingers, touching the edges of ripped fabric and hating the sounds of your whimpers.

It's only as he lifted his eyes, his chin, did you kiss him. Right over the mask. Before he can question, before he can surrender, your head rips back, eyes brimming with tears you refuse to let fall. 

Had to, just in case.  None of that, alright? 

Those three words don’t come out easily, almost clotting in his throat like scarlet does around your wound. 

Lift it up. Your mask. 

He’s not sure why he did. 

Why he bent to such a request—an order, but he did. No sooner is it over his nose does he feel chapped lips against his, softly moving, desperately seeking something. A moment, a chance. He isn’t sure and never asks. He just tastes you, the happiness that lives within, mixed with the desert, iron and somehow, even bleeding profusely, hope. 

You kiss better than I thought, Lieut. 

It was a month later before you brought it up. Dangled it in front of him, the chance to do it again—to kiss you, to do more than kiss. 

He’s human. And only a fool would say no to someone as gorgeous as you. Someone good, talented, full of fire and light that could, if you tried, bring him to his fucking knees. 

Which he supposes you did, ironically. 

Your leg hooked over his shoulder, tongue lapping up your want as your hand grabbed fistfuls of his hair. He was praying to you, and you were whimpering a hymn compiled of his name.

SimonSimonSimon. 

You both cross a new line together moments later, the final one. The one harder to come back from and pretend never happened.

Because then he knew how it felt to have your thighs on either side of his hips. To brush his fingers against your cheek and wipe the tears from coming on his tongue all away as he eases himself into you. 

Ghost knows how your hand feels clasped around his forearm as his cock sinks into you. How your nails dig into the ink on his skin, secretly hoping it leaves a similar mark.

So big. Too— You can take it.  I can—I will. I know. Know you will, sweetheart. 

Then it became a habit. 

You became a habit.

You're both heaven and a misdemeanour. Something he craved but knew he shouldn't let himself enjoy. Even if he did—whenever he could.

Ghost runs his teeth along your collarbone, and leaves welts under your uniform. He presses your cheek against cold walls, snaking his hand under the waistband of your trousers and standard-issue underwear, making you mew.

You’d do better with someone else—be far better suited to someone more open. Someone who’ll let you have more than scraps when night falls and will sit next to you on a canteen bench and nudge their knee against yours. 

Ghost won’t do that, but Simon might. 

That's what he clings to, that Simon could be enough.

Even if all of him have been falling for you, all unbeknownst to him until it's all he thinks. Having studied every curve of your body, taken note of each whip of your sharp tongue and marvelled secretly at how your brain thinks when challenged. 

It took him a while to see the brains behind the big eyes and the smirking lips. Now, it’s all he sees. 

He sees both a capable soldier and the person who has had their lips around his cock. The person who has laid in his sheets, staring up at him, mouth parted as you moan; the one who’s rolled their hips against his tongue, pleading for more as your fist clamps around a sheet. 

Friends don’t…. do what we do, though. Suppose they don’t.  What are we, then? 

He didn't answer, and so you didn't push. 

It stung the silence. It worsened when you dressed, when you said goodnight before the lights are even out.

You pulled away after that. And he felt it instantly. The draught of you not being beside him, your body not being curled around his before the sun rises—your laugh not peppering his ears.

Mostly, he found it torturous that your eyes don't land. Your snark swallowed, never meeting the air, never greeting him.

He tried to shake it, even if he beguns to feel the weight of the words he should have said. The ones he has thought for a while, the ones he feels. It not mattering, always coming back to the same thing: it’s easier to show than to tell. 

It’s why he’d let you map his past with the pads of your fingers rather than tell you the gruesome truth. That he lost so much, it’s hard to ever want again. He suspects you can tell, just from how your eyes land on him, when your hands feel the deeper ones—the ones who make him see flickers of how they were caused behind his eyelids. 

Ghost knew he’d fallen, having descended into want and affinity before you'd left that night. It consumed him in the time that followed.

Too many cold showers and anger-fuelled stares, before he truly acknowledges the ball is in his court. Before he lets the fact, he doesn’t want to rot away alone anymore but rather live for someone to fuel him to speak up. 

He considers ordering, demanding. 

Instead, he beckons. Fingers wrapping around your elbow, ignoring your eyes, flicking from the corridor ahead to him until the two of you are safely inside the four walls of his room. 

Then, he pours it out. Mask ripped from his face, lips burning words against yours. It’s different, fuelled by passion than relief—not soft, but not aiming to conquer the other. 

He buries himself in you differently, easing himself in—running his teeth along your jaw until he’s kissing whispered words to your ear. 

“I know…” you whisper fingers curled around his neck.

You say it as though you’ve heard his unspoken confession somewhere else. Like he’s left the script somewhere, and you know the act that's about to follow. 

“Show me,” you add. "Show me you want me, Simon."

And he does. 

Driving himself in and out in long, slow strides. He feels the feather-like touches over his back, the way your breath dances along his chin and neck. The lamp in the corner is the only light source, forcing your pupils to expand until they’ve almost swallowed the colour he admires and hopes to name. 

Ghost finds only his reflection in them—staring into wide and hopeful eyes. Seeing himself back in them, able to glimpse a person who isn’t a collection of shards, but someone almost whole. 

an: i was listening to some moody music.

[breezybangtanbebe]

💭❤️‍🔥Boyfriend Hoseok❤️‍🔥💭

The Gentle Giant Boyfriend

Emotionally💕:

Hoseok is no stranger to attention. Everything about him, from his handsome face and healthy physique to his fashion sense and warm personality, he attracts just about anyone with eyes and a pulse. But everything was different with you.

You werent one of the typical cases fan girling over his persona or obsessing over his body parts. (something I honestly think is a big ick for him but he just tolerates it because of how much of a people pleaser he tends to be.) 

On your first date, you barely even looked at anything below his chin and held him in your eyes for most of the conversation..

"You have really pretty eyes.." you remarked, stirring your drink mindlessly with your cheek resting in the palm of your other hand.

Hoseok's mouth twitched in a tiny reluctant smile of confusion. He too toyed with the straw of his drink, mashing the ice cubes about before taking a sip.

"Um..thank you." he swallows, blinking as if he were on the brink of choking. It wasn't hard to fluster him, you picked up on that early on when you met him at that pottery class you took up as soon as the pandemic was over. Any reason to get out of that apartment that felt even smaller when you had no where else to go.

It was his eyes that caught your attention first, mainly because it was all you could see of his face since the mask mandate was still enforced. Apart from his hulking frame under his oversized hoodie and the way his massive legs made the stool he was perched on look like it was designed for a child, there was a soft innocence there when he focused his fingers on the sepia ball of clay.

When he wasn't focused, those eyes had a way of finding you on the other side of the room, looking away bashfully when you felt his stare..

Crinkling cutely when the teacher made a joke.

Widening comically when the perfectly shaped bowl he was working on collapsed into a squishy warped ball of disaster.

This went on for a few weeks before he finally worked up the nerve to sit beside you at the beginning of the next class, introducing himself. Up close, you got an even better gauge of his size.

"Good lord he must work out every day.." you thought, but its only on your mind for a second after resuming eye contact when he asked you a question.

The most gorgeous combination of browns melded in the ridges of his irises. From afar you couldn't notice but this close, you couldn't see anything but those eyes. Eyes that told so much about a man you hardly knew.

Honesty.

Joy.

Sadness.

Pain.

Soul.

It was you who asked him for his number despite him being the one to ask if he could see you again outside of class. So you did, grabbing tea and coffee at the bakery near the pottery studio.

"Youre blushing again." you smirk triumphantly and Hoseok immediately resents himself for being such an easy read. Without his mask to hide behind, you were given a full view of his face that was as equally charming as his eyes.

The colored apples of Hoseok's cheeks lift slightly as he shook his head in pure denial.

"No Im not." 

"Im looking right at you. What do you mean?" You tease and Hoseok tucks his lips against each other to fight his bodies natural response to flattery.

"Its the steam from the tea or something, I don't know.." he shakes his head again, turning his head at the bakery's door chime as a few customers walked in and you couldn't help but think it was to hide the way his blush worsened. There was no steam. He wasn’t even drinking tea so the excuse was as ridiculous as it was adorable.

It made you smile knowing he was this affected and you vaguely wondered what else your attention to detail could do.

"If you say so.."

You were different to him because you saw him in ways others didn’t. No one compliments a man’s eyes when all attention is on his body. The amount of times he caught women and men alike struggling to keep eye contact when he wore a fitted shirt that accentuated his upper body. And while he did work diligently to achieve such a body, it felt good to be seen and not just something to look at. Which in his profession,was often a feeling he faced.

Water signs tend to be very emotionally connected and Hoseok will know what youre feeling before you say anything because he's just that observant. That's just him. He can walk into a room and get a gauge of everyone's energy and while he may not show it, he's affected by it.

He appreciates a person thats similar. Someone who can tell when he's bothered or uncomfortable but too polite to express it. He appreciates someone who can anticipate his needs the way he will anticipate yours. And he absolutely would. If you like coffee in the morning and he's up before you, he puts on a pot because he knows you hate waiting for it. He'll put things within your reach without thinking about it. He’ll cover sharp corners with his hand if you bend down suddenly too near them. Just a quiet caretaker.

He's very emotionally intelligent (it took him going through ALOT to get this way) , and he too has very little patience for games or things that don't make sense. So talk to him about your feelings vs acting impulsively. Don't push him away when you're upset. He may chase you for a little while but if you're not reciprocating his energy , he'll lose interest.

Physically💋:

Very reserved in front of others because he's just polite but will hold your hand and kiss you proudly in public. He keeps it cute though, nothing outlandish.

He is the jealous type so if someone is looking at you a bit too hard, expect him to mark his territory with one of those little kisses. Or a few.

In private, He's big and warm and soft and hard all at the same damn time. Hoseok loves cuddling,prefers to be the big spoon most of the time because he feels like he's protecting you but occasionally enjoys curling his big ass into you while your massage his scalp until he falls asleep.

He's much more touchy feely. Lots of stolen kisses and booty grabs. Although I predict that you'd be most inclined to want to touch him all day because...well. Look at him🌚

It was a day worth shutting the world out for. Raining and relentless. Plans were cancelled ,alarms were snoozed and clothes were optional at Hoseok's apartment.

Its been several months since that day in the bakery and those routine meet ups next door to the pottery class evolved into evenings spent at his place. He'd been to yours plenty but you preferred being with him at his because his felt more comfortable. 

Plus he had all the snacks.

The morning light creeped its way despite the sun being hidden and the bed felt much too big when he wasn't in it. So after pulling on one of his t-shirts and slipping into his bathroom to freshen up, you were relieved to find the object of your desire in the kitchen.

He's shirtless with his magnificent back on display for you as you watched him busy with something on the counter. His hair was wild, sticking up in all directions and his pajama pants hung just low enough on his hips for those two delicious dimples to be visible.

You stepped silently over the warm wood floors, one bare foot after the other until you were creeping up behind him.

Hoseok flinched a little when you snaked your arms around his waist but he soon relaxes at the feel of your lips pressing against the middle of his back.

"Hi.." you grumble against his warmth, skimming the tip of your nose over his skin. Hoseok chuckles softly as one of his hands covers your two that clasp below his naval.

"Morning. Did I wake you?" He looks over his shoulder and you shake your head, pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade.

"Just missed you." You respond sleepily and the sound of it has him chuckling softly.

"Ive been up for less than ten minutes.." he chides and you shrug.

"10 minutes too long. I got cold. What are you doing anyway? I thought you had nothing to do today." You mumble, peaking around his body to spot him organizing several different types of capsules into little baggies.

"Im putting my supplements together for when I go out of town next week."

"Oh yeah.." you say. You return to nuzzling his muscular back, settling in the dip of his spine between his shoulder blades with a solemn sigh.

Detecting you sulking, Hoseok takes one of your hands and pries it from his tummy to lift towards his face.

"Its just a few days. Don't pout, big baby.."

A gentle kiss to your knuckles was all it took to send a tingle through your body, making you tighten the back hug you had him in . Your affection evolves due to an intrusive thought and you accentuate the embrace with an unexpected bite of his flesh. Your teeth pinch a healthy bit of skin between them and you pull back on the release.

His yelp makes you snicker evilly and you soothed the faint toothmarks with a few kisses before pulling away from him.

"Look who's talking.." you tease.

He didn't appreciate the way the temperature changed the moment you weren't touching him and he turns around, spotting you leaning against the kitchen island. This had to have been the moment he realized you were wearing nothing but his t-shirt, noting the stiffness of your nipples poking through the fabric.

His gaze drops from your breasts to your shapely thighs that were unsubtly pressing against each other.

With a sultry look in your eye, you smirked up at him as you hopped up on the marble countertop and spread your legs just enough to hint at your lack of panties. Not that any hint was needed.

If you had any on, it wouldn't be for long.

Sexually💦:

Hoseok seems like a massive giver. So he's not at all a selfish lover. Whatever your satisfaction requires, he's pretty open to it if its not uncomfortable. If any kinks, I could see some bondage or food play. Maybe some sensory deprivation. Hes not afraid of toys at all. I actually imagine him owning some of his own for his solo sessions.🌚

Not super dommy. If anything, he's a switch (both dom and sub depending on the mood). When he's the dom, he teases your body alot with whatever he has at his disposal.

He praises you heavily and rewards you. Would much rather do that than punish you, but if he has to, he confirms that all of those muscles aren't just for show. He'll never hurt you though, thats actually one of his worst fears so don't expect him to get TOO TOO rough. Some hard slaps on the ass and a hand around the throat might be aa far as he'll go with you. Even then, hes very careful.

As a sub, he's very bratty and mischievous. He wants the punishment 100%. He wants you to talk shit, scold him, pull his hair a little. He wants you to make him feel small even though hes literally a hulk. Some orgasm denial would drive him crazy. But once you finally let him cum, put as much into the aftercare as he would for you. Talk to him nice and touch him alot. Slow Kisses with lots of tongue.

He's an ass man. Touching your booty actually brings him some sort of comfort, like a human stress ball. In the morning, its customary for him to rub yours for at least a minute when he greets you. He probably enjoys eating you out from the back so he doesn't have to waste time bending you over after. I also think he's most attracted to thick women🌚. He just gives me that vibe.

Large hands grip your ass underneath the tshirt,holding you up with your legs wrapped around him as he walked you back to the bedroom.

Your lips suckle his bottom lip, making him groan and squeeze you when you lips finally part to invite him in. Hoseok wasn't a sloppy kisser by far, always intentional with each stroke of his tongue and little nibble of your lips. He's passionate and most dominant when his tongue needled its way in and massaged yours.

You let him in gladly, earning a grateful sigh from him as you sucked his tongue greedily.

That always turned him on and you simulated the way you planned to suck him off by bobbing your head slowly, slurping his tongue loudly and shamelessly until it's too much for him.

You giggled when he tossed you on the bed, bouncing against the fluffy white comforter as he climbed on top of you. He cages you under the canopy of his huge body and doesn't hesitate to snatch his t-shirt from your body.

Now that he had you naked again, his lips found every place begging to be kissed.

Your neck.

Your nipples.

That spot just below your breast.

With both of your hands trapped under his above your head, Hoseok teased your body with his tongue until your back was arching from the bed.

He was kissing a trail down from your naval to the mound of stubbly skin of your pelvis. You felt you needed to shave but Hoseok didn't give a damn about some hair. In some ways he preferred it because he could smell you so much better that way.

His chin grazes your clit and making you twitch, making him smile against your skin.

"That sensitive huh? What am I gonna do with you?" He teases, moving down to hold you at your hips. You lift up just in time to watch his tongue extend and flick a few times over the throbbing nub before sucking on it obscenely hard.

You called his name again but he ignores you, simply combining flicking and sucking on your clit in favor of paying you any mind.

Seems as though he had his mouth set on your pussy for breakfast from how he alternated between sucking your clit and tonguing at your hole.

He knew what he was doing and you could keep your composure anymore. Damn his neighbors, they would just have to hear you.

Your hand found its way to his messy bed head, tugging at the strands from the scalp. He moans with his lips wrapped around you, the vibration of his tone making your legs shake.

Without warning, Hoseok pulls away from your heat and pulls you up by your arm. He grabs you by the neck gently to kiss you as he was before. But instead of him tasting like mouth wash and strawberry yogurt, he tasted like you.

With your legs spread wide enough to fit his huge frame, you hooked them over his hips to lock him in place. He chuckles at the desperation he felt on your lips, guiding you down to lay on your back one more.

"What baby...what it is it?" He asks, eyes black as night on yours. Long gone were those innocent eyes you'd fallen for at first.

Hoseok reached between your bodies to pick up where he left off, strumming over you back and forth.

Back and forth.

Your mouth gaped in a gasp when he upped the pace, rubbing you so good that you were sure you'd cum any second.

"Baby..please yess yess yess.." you cry and Hoseok kissed your trembling lips casually.

"Feels good?" He asks and you hum in response.

"More?" He lifts his brow.

"More..more.."you pant, now gripping the hair at his nape. With that, his fingers slipped inside of you, fucking you slowly as his tongue found yours. You moaned senselessly amidst kissing and Hoseok only took that as you begging for his fingers to go deeper.

"Is this what you want, baby? Hmm? Want me to suck on this pretty pussy some more? Wanna cum on my tongue like you did last night?" He mumbles, planting another wet pussy flavored kiss on your lips as he awaited your response.

"Please.." you shudder, too lost in the way his fingers went back to toying with your clit to kiss him back properly.

But this was how he wanted you anyway and he was only getting started.

Love Language:

I believe our big boy is a Gift giver/receiver and Physical touch. The gifts don't have to be expensive (even though he will for sure spend his monies on his gifts he gives you), it just matters to him that you know what he likes and that you're thinking of him. And touch on that man. Big boys need love too.

Quality time is big for him as well. He just wants you around. It doesn't have to be for any specific reason. Just be there and exist with him.

Pet names/Terms of endearment:

Calls you his baby or his world. Not much in between. He's very playful and light hearted so you might be his brat or headache from time to time, but takes his relationships very seriously. You don't have worry about any fear of commitment with him. Once he's locked in, you've got him.

So dont hurt him please🥹 He's very soft hearted.

<The other Boyfriends >

[cambion-companion]

Frozen Contract

I had to deliver on the poll I recently made. This is a drabble, being forced to share body heat with a cambion as you're stranded in a frozen wasteland.

"You have the freedom to choose the only option you have left."

Raphael x reader | drabble

You curled in on yourself, the coldness of hard-packed snow beneath you seeping through your thin bedroll straight to your bones.

Your shivering was becoming so violent you could just about feel your brain rattling within your skull.

“Dear, dear, you are in quite a state.”  Raphael sat quite unbothered upon his own pristine bedroll, golden eyes of licking flame as they watched you. “A frozen mouse quite fit for a snake’s meal.”

“Do you ever get tired of your metaphors?”  You could barely speak through the chatter of your teeth.

Raphael tilted his horned head, his breath creating puffs of steam with each exhale. “Does a nightingale get tired of singing the sun to sleep?”

You rolled your eyes.

“It’s self-evident you have life left in you yet, little one.”  Raphael noticed your annoyed expression, raising his eyebrow in return and flipping a page in the book he lazily read. His tail swept idly around in front of him, clearing a bit of snow and shoving it onto your blankets. “While we yet travel together, desist irking me with your trifling mortal troubles.”

“Such as freezing to death?” You bit back, your patience long gone.

Raphael smirked, holding out a large hand and catching several of the large flakes of snow that had begun falling from the dark sky. “Indeed.  I can hear the rattling of your bones from here.”

You glared at him for a moment, then squeezed your eyes tight shut.  

Raphael returned his attention to you, then snapped his book shut with a sharpness that made you jump.  He regarded you with a familiar haughty air. “I would admire your stalwart nature were it not so mulish.”

“I am not asking you for help.”

Raphael didn’t respond for a moment, his expression calculating. “I am quite accustomed to biding my time.”

You turned away, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself and attempted to sleep once more.

It was the shivering that awoke you, your body trying desperately to warm itself.  You couldn’t feel your hands or feet for the numbness, could barely lift your eyelids to check for signs of the dawn.

A heavy hand pressed upon your hip; you could feel the warmth of Raphael’s skin through the fabric over you. His breath was as the breath of life, hot against your neck and cheek. “Say ‘yes’.”

“Yes.”  You gasped out and the cambion responded immediately.

Raphael curled his large fiendish body around your much smaller frame, his fingers undoing the clasps of your clothing. He took hold of your wrists as you moved weakly to protest. “The ice will melt and leave you soaking, and I will not tolerate such a mess.”

You let him shed you of your clothing, his wing quickly covering you and his arm wrapping around your bare torso to tug your body flush against his own.

With two long fingers, Raphael tilted your face to look at him. His eyes flitted between your own, then down to your mouth. “Your lips are a charming shade of blue.”

“I can’t feel them.”  You mumbled; your thoughts hazy from the warmth seeping from his body into yours.

Raphael bent his head to you, his free hand cupping the back of your head, sending a thrill of heat through you. You closed your eyes, feeling his tongue trace liquid fire across your lips, then the soft press of a kiss that deepened to something more primal.

You felt the thick coil of his long tail slide and wind its way up your leg, warming you in a much different way.

Raphael took your chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing you to focus on him. “Say my name, pet.”

You hesitated only a moment.  Giving into a brief defiance before accepting defeat. Your lips trembled, but no longer from the cold. “Raphael.”

[shiyorin]

Do Dreadnoughts dream of taking a bath?

#Inspired by PowerWash x Warhammer 40K and Roco.

#I love Dreadnought.

"Do Dreadnoughts dream?"

That is a question with no certain answer. On one hand, a Dreadnought is more machine than man, neural implants fuse mind to machine in ways bizarre to comprehend. Their armored carapace shelters only remnants of flesh, sustained through bionic might alone. By all rights, their cerebral cortex should have decayed long ago.

By such logic, one could argue conscious thought ends where flesh yields to steel. Sleep and its dreamscapes are biological realities, are they not? With only trace humanity remaining, why expect mental functions of slumber? But integrated into their armored shells are enough enhanced organs and neural implants to sustain bioniorganic functions far beyond mere biological viability. Isn't the nature of dream itself stems from biological instincts overwritten.

The pain was a dull ache, easily ignored after centuries entombed. But a new irritation assailed him now, crawling itches across flesh long denied sensation. Confusion, this body felt change, though it had lain inert as worlds turned. Deeper still came the oppression, lungs seizing as if drowning once more in bloody. 

What trickery was this? Diagnostics reported stasis, all systems firing true. Yet the discomforts grew, phlegmy coughs racking the half-machine beast. Panic swelled, animal instincts long dormant rising within the eternal tomb. Then light, piercing the darkness behind closing lids. Sweet air rushed into ruined lungs, this labor easing at last. 

His eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar realm. No armored bulk rose before him but limbs scoured by shrapnel and burned by virus-bombs. His original form, given once more against all reason, a gift or curse, he knew not. Unfettered he stood, wounds healed to bare scars across taut flesh. This was a dream, or something. 

An uncertainty gripped him. What madness was this? To be returned to old flesh but feel no urge to battle, no call to crusade? A different impulse arose, foreign but ingrained, cleansing ritual performed eons past in youth. He walked uncertain, waters calling him to rites unseen by any in aeons untold. 

Ribs still bore flecks of ceramite and plasteel patched within living shell. He paused before the waters, studying form that had known only warfare. Scars told their own tales, each etched upon memories kept alive through aeons in stasis. With care he entered in that, waters lapping old wounds as if in benediction. 

There he lingered, letting cares and pains wash freely away. Muscles long locked in adamantium relaxed, tension fleeing in steam rising. For the first time in memory untold, no demands of duty or flesh assailed him. A feeling swelled within him, emotion locked beyond reach of mortal sensation. Peace, serenity swept over ancient minds as waters sloughed away cares of ages...

Pain pulsed through his battered form as consciousness returned. The fleeting peace of dreams melted away, centuries of enforced half-life onboard the Dreadnought crashing back upon ancient shoulders. Systems booted sluggishly, sensors recalibrating after solaris of monotony disturbed. 

A hum escaped grille as servos whirred back to their duties securing crumpled flesh deeper than mortal sight could pierce. Outside clangs and grinding announced the diligent ministrations of tech-priests ensuring their perpetual charge clung yet to shadow of function. One voice carried clearly through armored carapace:

"Vitals stabilize in sector C-12 Magos. Neural links firing within tolerances." The Tech-priest's voice rang through microphones.

"Understood. Continue maintenance protocols and monitor for anomalies. This relic has served faithfully many centuries. Pray for the Omnissiah." The Magos's bionics buzzed in compliance. They ensured history marched on, whatever hulls preserved that march.

With effort, aged vox-grille creaked open. "Brother, I was dreaming." Static laced speech imparted by cobbled augmetics mere palliates for ravaged throat too ruined for basic sounds. The Techmarine's etheric sensors detected words nonetheless.

A static pause preceded Techmarine's reply. "Dreaming? Impossible, your neural engrams show only baseline activity."

Mirthless chuckle issued from loudspeakers. "Impossible, yes, But I dream... I'm taking a bath." 

Silence answered as Techmarine puzzled over the incomprehensible scene. "The priests scrub your plating clean as monthly rite. Perhaps some synapse misfired."

Silence reigned for moments uncounted as ritual continued outside. Then, a final whisper from within. "Indeed. A... nice dream." 

With that, consciousness fell back into lowest-level rest as painkillers suffused systems. The Techmarine watched monitors return to quiescent patterns, then signaled to close the Dreadnought once more. Its machine spirit's notions were beyond his. The armored tomb closed, and darkness reigned once more.

[villainbun]

Masking fire

Dabi x Gn!reader and Mr.Compress x Gn!reader

Tw: yandere Dabi, yandere Mr.Compress, toxic relationship, eventual cheating, mask kink

ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ

You were sitting on one of the bar stools in the LoV hideout while Toga raved on about wanting to see that green haired hero boy again. You barely registered anything as the alcohol seeped into your body. Not that you were usually like this with her, you did enjoy conversing with her on the daily basis. However, tonight was different, you were too busy worrying about seeing Dabi again after what happened a few days ago.

“I thought we’ve talked about this already” you sighed.

“Relax babe, they are all dust by now. It’s fine” he said as if he was proud of burning random men until they were unrecognizable.

“But, what if you get caught? I don’t want to lose you” you frustratedly responded.

“Look at me” “Hey! Look at me, nothing’s gonna happen” he grabbed your chin and leaned in for a kiss. You felt his hands grabbing your waist and his semi hard cock rubbing against you.

“But you should be careful, the police and heroes are out looking for us what if-” you said as you weren’t in the mood.

“Tsk” he tutted. “Listen, I’m tired of you yapping like a bitch all day long, why don’t you come here” he barked back.

“But I…” you muttered until you realized it was useless to say anything. He didn’t listen to you before what made you think this time would be different.

“That’s it, I’m done. I can’t even relax anymore. Fuck this” he grumbled as he stepped away probably to smoke another cigarette and blow some steam off. It was always the same whenever your antics got too much, he would just walk away like you were wrong for caring for him.

Somehow, the nervousness you felt went away as soon as you saw Dabi coming back safely with Spinner, Twice and Compress. Toga immediately jumped up on her feet and rushed towards Twice, finally her favourite person to chat with in the League was back. Mr.Compress along with Spinner were heading your way.

“You know a lady should not be drinking alone, want us to keep you company?” Compress offered. You blushed slightly at him and nodded happily. Compress sat next to you and next to him was Spinner who was trying to steal the bottle away from you.

Mr.Compress removed his black and white mask leaving just his eyes and mouth uncovered by the ski mask. His gentle eyes stared at you briefly and maybe it was the alcohol talking at that moment, but you couldn’t help noticing how attractive he was. The mask certainly did a good job accentuating his features. His chocolate eyes made you feel warm and his luscious lips parted as he spoke to you leaving his pearly white teeth to shine through. You had to excuse yourself and go to your room. What are these weird thoughts creeping into your mind? You shouldn’t have drank so much, but it just felt so good to temporarily forget you and Dabi’s rocky situation even if it was for bit.

After you got into your room still ignoring Dabi’s presence, he thought to himself that he needed to figure out a way to get you back into his arms. He went up groggily to Compress and asked him to borrow one of his many ski masks. Did you really think he wouldn’t notice you making googly eyes at Compress in that mask. He knew you and your dirty mind enough to realize that you were flustered by men in masks. He was tired of this bratty behaviour, now it was time for you to be put back in your place. He won’t be tolerating your bickering any longer…

Later that night, Shigaraki yelled out from the other room, telling you both to shut up as you giggled and leaned onto Dabi’s chest as he kissed the top your head. It always ended the same, but with his body against yours nothing mattered, not the fight, not his temper, not this cycle that you were in. Everything was okay again, at least until the next time you lose your mind over his safety.

Little did you know that, in Mr.Compress’ room, he was figuring out a way to make you all his. There was no doubt in his mind that he would treat you so much better than that arsonist maniac.

ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ

I’ll be writing a part 2 eventually. It will lean more into Mr.Compress and reader

[inoreuct]

zosan caretaking fluff feat. hair washing, banter and very soft vibes. dinner is served.

Sanji sighed, sliding down until the back of his head pressed against the lip of the bathtub. The water was toeing the line between too hot and just right and he'd poured in enough lavender emulsion to coat it with dense, heady bubbles; they tickled his chin as he let his eyes slip shut.

It had been such a long day.

He'd been rudely woken up by the sound of a cannonball crashing through their hull, tossed out of his bunk a second later when the enemy ship rammed into their side; having to fight moments after being startled awake had already put him in a horrid mood, and then he'd realised that the galley had taken damage and he would have to restock more than half of everything he'd had in there. The fridge had lost power too so he'd had to cook all the meat that had thawed (which, to be fair, was never a problem with Luffy around) but then his whole crew had scattered during their supply run and he'd lugged a shit-ton of food back to the Sunny himself and now his brain was buzzing and his everything was aching and he was pretty sure he had gunpowder in his hair.

The steam filled his lungs when he breathed in, damp and dense and warm, settling heavy as he trailed his fingers through the milky water. His neck hurt from staring down at goods all day and he could feel the beginning of a tension headache behind his eyeballs. It was a small blessing that he had the bathroom to himself—

The door creaked open.

Goddammit. Sanji sucked down a fortifying breath before he looked up— and relaxed, because thankfully, the one possible person he might be able to tolerate at the moment was sliding inside with one arm behind his back.

Zoro pushed the door shut with his heel, loose pants wrapped low around his hips and hair already darkening from the humidity. "Hi."

"Hello, marimo," Sanji sighed, tilting his head to the side. He watched as Zoro trudged over and stuck his free hand into the water before yanking it back with a muffled hiss.

"That's hot."

"Nearly enough to boil a lobster," the cook agreed mildly, eyebrows flashing up as he turned his head to track Zoro pulling up a stool, lazy and languid. "Now did you need anything, or are you just here to kill off more of my brain cells?"

Zoro gave him a dry look.

A heavy exhale slipped from Sanji's nose before he reached behind him, fingers brushing Zoro's elbow and sliding down to take his hand. He spread the swordsman's fingers out, tracing over hard-earned callouses with featherlight swirls. "I'm sorry, mon chou," he sighed, letting his temple fall against Zoro's knuckles. "Just... tired, is all."

"I know." Zoro flipped his palm, rubbing a thumb over Sanji's cheekbone before pulling away. "Brought you something."

Sanji heard the sound of glass being picked up and nearly turned before he was presented with a dark, stout bottle, the labelling font reminiscent of chalk on a blackboard. "Pirate Blend," he read, huffing a chuckle. Fitting. "No glass?"

"As if you won't finish the whole thing."

He let out a faux-indignant gasp, reaching out to whack the back of his hand against Zoro's bare chest. "Ass."

"That was my tit, cook. Think the steam's getting to your head."

The laugh that peeled its way out of Sanji's throat was sticky with exhaustion, steeped through with lavender suds and underpinned by the ache in his muscles as he popped the cork with his teeth and took a swig. "...Where did you get this?"

"There was a tasting booth in the market. Thought you'd like this one."

"You thought right," Sanji admitted, lifting the bottle to his mouth again and letting the wine coat his tongue; a red by the taste of it, with a nearly savoury spiced vanilla and dark, syrupy cacao, a rich core of sweet berry, an almost silky hint of dry tannin. He held out the bottle, but Zoro shook his head with a soft quirk of his mouth.

"Got it for you, swirly."

The cook smirked. "Suit yourself. So that's where you ran off to while poor little me was stuck doing all the heavy lifting," he lamented, sighing and emphasising it with an exaggerated sip.

"Not just that."

He heard twine sliding across waxed paper, packaging rustling as it was unfolded—

The water sloshed as Sanji set his bottle down and turned around, holding onto the edge of the tub as Zoro pulled the last bit of paper away to reveal the set of soaps in his lap.

The cook's breath caught. Each of the five bars clearly had a different scent, and a design to match; the one with green and cream swirls was matcha, surely, and the translucent one with rose petals was obviously rose. One more was oat and honey, and the one with a herb sprig on top was definitely rosemary mint— But the last one was plain brown, mild enough that his nose couldn't pick out what it was supposed to be. "Marimo."

"Hm?"

"How much did these cost?"

Zoro shot him a smug grin. "Just a couple of logs that needed chopping... And some charm."

"You." The cook blinked, stretching out like a cat to rest his chin on his hands, lips twitching as he tried to hide his awed smile. "Charm."

"Oi! I can be charming when I want to be!" The swordsman scowled at Sanji's fond, disbelieving scoff. "I charmed you, didn't I?"

"Yes, well—" Sanji felt a little breathless, buoyant, like if he let go of the tub he'd float with no effort at all. "Yes, I suppose you did." He held still, heart fluttering in the hollow of his throat as Zoro's face softened, leaning forward to poke at something in his hair.

"You've got gunpowder in your bangs."

"I— Ugh, I know!" he complained, rolling over with a dramatic sigh.

"Well, hurry up and pick one, then!"

"Pick one?" Sanji lurched up again, bubbles sloshing everywhere, eyes flicking between Zoro and the soaps. "I can't just pick one, they all smell so good and they're too pretty to—"

"Oh, for the love of— Curly, can you just pick one and let me wash your hair?" Zoro deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest and completely oblivious to the way he'd just made Sanji's entire system freeze, the inconsiderate moss-headed bastard.

If a cannonball crashed into their ship again, Sanji wouldn't have noticed. If the Sunny was sinking, he wouldn't have cared. He was much too preoccupied with staring at the man sitting in front of him, skin flushed with the warmth, green hair mussed as it always was, soaps that he'd bought for Sanji on a whim in his lap. The cook's fingers dug into the edge of the tub and gripped until ceramic squeaked. Zoro wanted to wash his hair.

Zoro's throat bobbed as he swallowed, clearly fighting the urge to look away. "Look, if you don't want—"

"No!" Sanji yelped, startling himself enough that he nearly clapped his hands over his own mouth. "No, I— This one," he breathed, reaching for the plain brown bar and pressing it into Zoro's palm. "This one." He knew that he probably looked nearly shocked, eyes so wide it must have been unsettling, but his chest ached something fierce when he breathed in deep down all the way to his gut and he couldn't help it. His water must have been getting cold by now but he didn't feel it at all.

Zoro's lashes fluttered as he shifted in his seat, carefully wrapping the rest of the soaps up and placing them aside. "Okay, then. Turn around."

Sanji flipped, sitting still as Zoro gently pulled the tie from his hair and slipped it around his own wrist, holding back a shiver when calloused hands cupped his face to guide him nearer the running tap. The water seemed warm, but not warmer than Zoro himself; the swordsman always seemed to run ridiculously hot and Sanji—

"Relax," Zoro murmured, his hand broad and steady against the back of Sanji's head. "I've got you, cook. Lean back."

And Sanji was slowly coming to realise that he was loathe to deny Zoro anything, so he did. He let his weight sink back against Zoro's hand, trusting the swordsman to hold him up, letting his eyes close as Zoro carefully poured water over his scalp until his curls were soaked. He didn't open them even as he was pushed back up, settling comfortably in the tub as Zoro lathered the soap in his hands. What remaining suds left in the tub lapped at his collarbones; the water was a soothing pressure all around his torso, and he didn't bother hiding his soft sigh when Zoro's fingers slid into his hair.

"S'getting long." Firm fingertips started scrubbing at his scalp, kneading into spots of tension Sanji didn't even know he had. "You gonna cut it?"

"Mm? No," he sighed, shuddering when Zoro dragged his thumbs up from his nape. "Think I w'na grow it out."

Zoro hummed at that, tipping the cook's head to the side. "You'll look pretty."

"I know I will. And you'll tell me every day."

"Oh, will I, now?"

"Mhm."

The swordsman scoffed without any bite, doing something with his fingers that made Sanji melt. "You're so cocky."

"Mhm," Sanji mumbled again, not even bothering to find out what he was agreeing to. He had better things to focus on. "Just... keep doing that."

He heard Zoro chuckle and then pretty much zoned out completely, tension bleeding from his muscles, letting Zoro move his head this way and that. His bathwater was tepid at this point; he didn't care. Zoro's hands were big and warm and as the bubbles drifted down to his shoulders, he finally realised what this bar was scented with.

Sandalwood suffused his senses, a deep creamy sweetness with an undercurrent of leather and earth. With what little wherewithal he had left, Sanji decided that it suited Zoro more than it did him. Maybe he'd try to convince the mosshead to take it for himself. A few kisses should be bribery enough. Fingertips dug beneath the bones just behind his ears, working until the ache dissipated, and Sanji felt his shoulders slump because God, that felt good.

He didn't know how long he sat there, drifting blissfully between sleep and Zoro's fingers scrubbing at his crown, gingerly detangling his hair, but if you had to ask him his answer would be not long enough. His eyes fluttered open when Zoro tapped his cheek, and he squinted at the light. "Wh—"

"Wake up, baby. Gotta rinse."

The pet name made something tucked inside his ribcage pull tight like a gasp, but Sanji just closed his eyes again. "Just a while longer..."

Zoro chuckled as Sanji's head lolled in his palm. "We should get you to bed."

"Noooooo." Was he whining? This was ridiculous. He really didn't care.

"You're a spoiled prince," Zoro said matter-of-factly.

"Your fault." Sanji discreetly cracked one eye open to gauge the swordsman's reaction and immediately closed it when he saw Zoro's expression, sucking in a hitched breath.

That was enough devotion in a glance to kill a man, and it tore through Sanji like a fucking bullet. Right through the ribs, in and out faster than he could stop it, so quick that he didn't even realise until his love was bleeding out of him, all over his hands, filling his mouth, colouring his teeth, honeyed at the back of his throat and finally he'd be able to see how much of it his heart held. He didn't mind. He didn't think he ever would, actually; he'd fill this bathtub with red if it meant that Zoro would see. If it meant that he would understand how every time he looked at Sanji like that it felt like he had Sanji's heart in his fist, his lungs in a vice, his goddamn life under his thumb.

Sanji had come to terms with it long ago. He put his soul in these battle-scarred hands every day and he trusted them to be gentle because he knew that they could, they would be, for him. Even now, Zoro took his weight easily, one palm at his nape and the other stopping suds from getting into his eyes and it meant far too much for something so simple, but that was just how it worked, wasn't it?

The cook swallowed hard, allowing himself one more moment before pushing up so Zoro wouldn't accidentally waterboard him. It would possibly be hilarious but he might also very possibly just die, considering how low his guard was. The thought made him laugh a little, strained with how his head was tipped back; he saw Zoro give him a weird look upside-down and decided that he was either more tired than he'd thought or he'd had more of the wine than he'd realised.

Zoro rinsed his hair quickly, but he was no less meticulous than he had been at the beginning. It was something that Sanji had refused to admit he admired at first, that single-minded intensity regarding the things Zoro cared about, and oh, wasn't that a thought? That he belonged within that distinction now. Sanji pulled his knees to his chest when the swordsman leaned over to grab the towel he had set out, scrunching the cook's hair dry as best he could and then dropping the fluffy white cloth over his head just to make him laugh.

The bottle of wine was relatively full when Sanji picked it up, holding it up to the light as Zoro dried his hair. "Guess I didn't finish it after all."

"Yeah, well." Zoro shrugged as he took it from him to put aside and tugged gently on a stray curl. "Nobody's gonna want it now that it has your spit in it."

Sanji scoffed. "You'd still drink it. You'd drink any booze."

"...Yeah, I would."

Zoro's eyes were a soft grey as he stood up. Sanji had a feeling that he could have left out the second part of that statement and the answer would still be the same.

He let Zoro pull him up out of the tub, wrap him in the towel and hold open the pair of briefs he'd left for him to step into. He held his arms up as Zoro pulled his soft sleep shirt over his head, brazen as if he didn't know full well the shirt was Zoro's to begin with. If it were any other time he might have protested against being helped to dress like a child— but for now he'd just refuse to admit that he enjoyed it, enjoyed being cared for, even in minute ways like this. Plausible deniability and all that.

Sanji didn't resist as the swordsman took his hand, leading him back to the men's quarters and tugging the covers up for him, patting them into place around his shoulders as he settled. The bed dipped by his hip where Zoro sat, and Sanji sighed as his damp bangs were brushed away from his face. Zoro liked seeing both his eyes, he'd noticed. Maybe he'd start wearing his hair back more often.

"Goodnight, cook," Zoro whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Sanji's temple.

Sanji's brain was full of cotton and sandalwood suds. He squeezed over underneath the blankets, cupping Zoro's face in his palms. "Stay."

The swordsman laughed under his breath. "Haven't showered."

Sanji considered letting him in anyway, but yep, nope, guess his brain wasn't that full of cotton. "Make it quick," he ordered, the effect broken by the massive yawn that interrupted his last word. Pulling Zoro down for a proper kiss was easier than breathing, the press of their lips just enough to wrap warmth over his skin like a blanket. "And use the soap from just now."

Zoro huffed at the words murmured against his mouth. "Spoiled."

"Your fault," Sanji yawned again, jabbing a finger into Zoro's chest before waving him away.

He heard his boyfriend's rumble of a laugh, smiled into his pillow as Zoro's acquiescence was brushed over his cheek, before the lamp was turned down and the door opened and shut. He'd been serious about Zoro being quick; they both slept better when they shared a bunk, and today had been more than enough of a shitshow for them to have earned a good night's rest.

Sanji snuggled down, fully intent on waiting.

He was asleep between one breath and the next.

(And if he woke briefly to curl closer when Zoro slid half-asleep into bed behind him, clean and warm and smelling of sandalwood, well. Neither of them would remember it in the morning.)

thank you for reading! part 2 where sanji takes care of zoro is already in the works, so keep your eyes peeled if you're interested :)

[live-laugh-lenney]

could you write a fic where arthur finishes too fast in bed and gets really embarrassed about it but the reader comforts him

love u

please, he'd be so sad... :(((

"arthur?"

"i'm nearly done in here," he murmurs back in response except yn can't figure out his response from the sound of the shower that had hot water cascading down his bare skin, "be done soon."

"what was that?"

"i'm nearly-"

his sentence is cut short when he hears his en-suite door open and close and his heart sinks lower in his chest at the sight of her figure on the other side of the frosted glass of his shower. with her hair still pulled back into a messy ponytail and a grey tee hanging down her figure, which he assumed she'd taken from his wardrobe, his eyes staring into the distance except the frosted glass kept him from seeing anything clearly.

"i'm nearly done in here," he repeats, taking a deep breath and feeling the steam clear his nose and his throat, "should be enough hot water for you."

"not what i came in here for," she claims and he watches her as she slides the tee over her head and lets it drop to the floor, laying in a cotton puddle at her feet, "i came to check on you, you just left me in bed, naked."

he gulps back the lump in his throat and stares down at his feet, his eyes focusing on the water that ran down his legs and disappeared down the plughole so he didn't have to see her step into the shower, so he didn't have to make eye contact wit her. her hands tentatively reaching forward to grab his hands and she winces at the heat of the water that touches her skin.

"jesus, arthur."

she snatches her arms back and he frowns, feeling one of her arms snake around him so she could turn down the heat and make the water a little more tolerable, a little cooler so his skin wasn't scolded and red and blistering by the time he left the room.

"i'm sorry."

"i didn't realise you had your showers this hot," she says softly, taking slow steps towards him and reaching her hands back out, taking his fingers in her gentle hold and squeezing them softly, "no need to be sorry about that."

"no, i'm sorry about-" he cuts himself off, shaking his head at how silly he felt before he looked up and made eye contact with her, "i'm sorry i couldn't last in there."

"oh."

the silence between them was broken by the stream of water falling from the shower head yet neither of them could tear their eyes from each other. his fringe clung to his forehead and his eyes were sunken and she could see the sadness lingering deep in his mind. she lifted a hand up, cupping his cheek in the palm of her hand and she smiles at the way his head tilts into her touch, his other hand squeezing hers.

"you don't need to apologise for that either," she admits, stroking the curve of his cheek with her thumb, "it happens."

"i just, i don't want you think i wanted it over with from the moment it started."

"i'm actually taking it as a compliment. i'm just too sexy that you can't hold it back," she jokes teasingly and he can't hide the amusement that bubbles up in his chest and leaves his mouth in breathy laugh, "i think you just can't handle hot hot i am."

"you really are just irresistible," and she swore she saw a smirk tickle at the corner of his lips, moving her arms to wrap around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest and feeling the wet skin against her face, "i know you were excited to, you know, do it now i'm home from sri lanka and-"

"it's okay, arthur," she shakes her head softly, "honest. you're home now so we've got so much time to spend together."

"i'll make it up to you," he presses a kiss to her wet hair and lets his mouth linger, "i promise you." xx

[canaidliafail]

what she brings out of me

sadie adler x f!reader

4.5 k words MDI

old piece that isn’t proof read but I wanted to post it. Sort of canon compliant for 1/7 of the story so read at your own risk + bad english ahead. enjoy

hunting with Hosea was a chore more often than not but the man raised you to be the hunter that you are now and you were willing to tolerate the withered old man. He had his fun but he couldn’t do the miles he did before and his aim left much to be desired. But he kept you company and gave you maps for all the legendary animals he wanted to see and you, to catch.

That winter while you sought out shelter and a temporary camp while leaving blackwater,he was more prickly than usual.He insisted you stay in and help Pearston skin and cook the animals and man were you a shitty cook.

Pearston decided he would let you sneak out to hunt being the greedy drunk fool that he was so long as you brought something other than vegetables for the crew to eat.

You had barely managed to mount your horse when Arthur came back with Dutch and the rest with a new guest. a woman, frightened like a rabbit, shaking from the cold and the grief judging from her tear stained cheeks

the crowd came in with questions and she shrunk in herself stepping behind Dutch. You hitched your horse back and half ran your way to them

“This is Ms. Adler. Abigail help her out, she's had a rough night” he said and Abigail approached the woman who seemed reluctant to move from her spot as everyone discussed what took place. fed up with the situation you pushed the others away clearing a path for her and stopped beside Abigail

“Christ people give her some air can't you see she’s frightened?” You commanded and they lowered their heads, hats covering their eyes.

The three of you made your way back into the cabin and left it up to Abigail to talk to the woman.

Men widowed her that night and took everything else with them, money,silver, dignity….

the night was grim and you could hear her weep quietly, mourning her lost husband till daylight hit and she passed out from exhaustion. You woke up first and made coffee and left one by her bunk bed with a note

You probably won’t have much appetite but try to consume some liquids at least

Throughout your whole stay there you never conversed any further than a tip of the hat when you entered the cabin at night and a soft sigh when you replaced her untouched plate and cup in the morning.

You felt for her despite not knowing what it meant to lose a husband. You didn’t know what it meant to even have a husband in the first place

But your heart still ached to see such a lovely woman stripped of all joy and light

•••

“a 1000 pound bear and you thought we could take her out with our piss poor rifles?!” You asked bewildered and glanced at Arthur who had much more patience than you that day, which said a lot. Hosea passed him the map with a hand over his heart still scared and in shock how quickly he came face to face with death

“Ill head back…You two gonna chase after that thing are are you coming with?”

“coming with. Arthur its all yours” You said and mounted your house and he did the same

“Had enough entertainment for now. Let’s head back” He agreed and you all three started the two day journey back talking about everything and how everyone was settling in

“By the way, Karen has been asking for you again”

“hm?” you looked up at Arthur. Of course she was. you leave for a few days and she is looking for you again to let out some steam. You stay at camp and she won’t bat an eye your way. You took little offense however simply enjoying that you had someone to have your fun with when no one was looking

“Ill go by her tent later…” you mumbled

“Speaking of can you keep some company to Ms. Adler as well? You two have a spunky spirit and might lift her up a bit”

Sadie Adler had continued her daily routine of wandering off to the far end of the camp sitting on the rocks and crying. You caught her talking to Abigail more than anyone else and despite wanting to get close to the woman you had no idea how to approach her

“Ill…see what I can do”

you agreed and continued silently too tired to indulge in small talk

you arrived at the hideout the next evening. Arthur took off shortly to go back to blackwater for a lead on some members that stayed behind

You bathed in the dreadfully cold river and made it back to your tent combing your hair into two braids, putting on a clean pair of jeans with a shirt to go out and see if there was any coffee or herbs to make tea.

Your caught Sadie with the corner of your eye sitting by the rocks looking off into the distance and decided to give it your best shot. At this point you were the only woman who had not talked to her and it felt rude

you grabbed two chapped mugs and poured whatever hot liquid was available and made your way to her

“Evening Ms. Adler” she looked up at you

“Good evening”

“Mind if I keep you some company?” you said pushing the warm cup in her direction which she took without protest and schooched to the side giving you space. You sat next to her and looked at the dim light from the sparse fire pits enjoying the cracking of wood and soft unison of voices talking in the background

“Listen Im sure everyone had asked how you are doing so I won’t try to remind you of that but, I hope you are finding your stay with us of some comfort”

you said and dared a fearful look at her admiring her untamed blonde hair and freckled nose. A second longer and you may have found yourself in love with a widow so you turned your sights back on the coals and fire in the distance

“As much as I'd rather be left alone, its nice to have some company” she confessed and you nod, waiting to see if she had anything else to say. With a shaky voice she continued

“I just wish my Jacky was here with me. He was a good man you know, better than anyone out there”

your lips thinned almost feeling her anger. Karen passed in front of you in the distance quirking a brow indicating she would be waiting for you tonight

“I just wish it was me in his place. I feel so lost”

you brought your attention back to her and slowly pressed a hand against her back gently moving it in circles. she leaned into your touch and you felt her breath stutter

“I wish I could take my own life…but i’m not brave enough to do even that” you matched your breathing with her own pulling her closer silently trying to calm her down the minute you felt her shoulders shake

“To be brave is to keep on going. To keep on living” you quietly offered your thoughts and she shook her head tears falling again

“I don’t know…”

you kept caressing her back

“Keep on living Adler. Show those fuckers what you’re made of”

You said boldly and she turned to look at you surprised. she seemed to consider your words and then your face. maybe both. You knew you weren’t good at this but you were satisfied to see the tears stop and her features soften

You smiled and hesitantly tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear and then stood up

“We are here for you. Take your time to grieve the man. He is worth it” she nod and took in a deep breath looking into the distance, taking a sip from her tea “Thank you for listening” your shrugged “least I can do for a pretty lady. Should you ever seek company my tent is open” you said and saw a soft smile graced her lips for the first time before she turned away. Remorse hit you quick and hard realizing you accidentally just made a pass at her and felt shame drown you.

with a tip of your hat you excused yourself.

You feared you had messed up, spoke too soon and maybe with too much ignorance. You prayed she’d brush your words off. Its not like anyone even considered that a woman could flirt with a woman.

You sought out Karen and her willing touch that night. You forgot yourself in the pleasure of her spread legs and let her soft gasps fill your mind.

However the next day you were surprised to see Sadie with her hair braided and her shirt tucked in neatly with a lovely brown straw hat shielding her face from the sun. she went to pour coffee and caught you staring and for the first time greeted you first with a smile

•••

Days turned into weeks and Sadies curt greetings turned to small talk that turned into long conversation and eventually she took interest in your role with the gang asking of your trips

“a huntress?”

you felt pride in your chest. sure women weren’t expected to do much but you loved that you challenged that standard from a young age

“I feel I am of more use with a bow in the wild than with pins and needles”

“What's up with you managing to have every woman all over you?” Arthur asked one day and you laughed pushing him away with a soft punch on his arm

“Its my talent”

“and here I thought that laid in hunting animals. ‘s that why we’ve been starving lately?”

he asked meaning no harm and you saw his crooked grin and the softness in his eyes, crinkling with wrinkles

“shut up arthur. Don't you have a train to rob or something?”

“my bad, I won’t take any more of your precious time with Ms. Adler”

You also quickly found out Sadie had a sharp tongue and a short temper. Her strength and quip was overshadowed by her grief before but slowly it raised to the surface and more people took interest in her. She grew more familiar with Arthur and her long skirts were slowly replaced by the occasional tight black jeans that accentuated her assets even better

Some nights she was still haunted by nightmares and you took it upon yourself to invite her to your tent. You talked for a while and when she tried to excuse herself you stopped her and patted the side of your bunk bed

“You can sleep here for tonight”

“and you?” you laughed “Ill also sleep here. Never had a sleepover with a friend before?”

“Not like that you prick” she said and laid next to you. Her eyes widened, noticing she was a little too close than she calculated. you held her by the waist guiding her “turn around for me” you whispered and she obliged. You pressed your chest against her back and held her like that and felt her tense shoulders slowly relax only to stiffen again when you spoke again close to her

“Goodnight Sadie”

“goodnight”

It only happened once but after that night You often caught yourself admiring her, those warm brown eyes, the raspy voice that gave you goosebumps and when no one paid you attention you shamelessly eyed her figure.

“You are no better than a man,huntress” Karen teased and leaned next to you against the tree. You chuckled and glanced at her “jealous?”

“you wish” she said. It didn’t go past you that she wore a dress that exposed her chest nicely yet it did little to arouse you and in horror you realized your mind drifted over to Sadie and how nicely she tucked in her shirt leaving no more than two buttons open barely exposing her collar bones

“The boys are going out for some job” she said leaving the invitation and you smirked looking down at her

“Hm…Maybe Ill join them”

“or..” she said and carefully flattened her palms against your chest pretending to fix your bandana for you “you can join me instead” she looked up at you with doe eyes and your lip twitched in a smile. She left swaying her hips and you let your gaze linger for a second before looking up. Sadie stood there with an unspoken question in her eyes and then cocked a brow in challenge.

you took two cigarettes out of your pocket and she approached you accepting your offer. she placed the stick in her lips and you motioned her to come closer.

her head tilted in confusion and you carefully pulled her in by the back of your head till the ends of your cigarettes touched and lit them both in one go

you tucked the lighter back in your pants and she took in a long puff in thought “You seem closer to Karen than the rest. Does your friendship go back in time?”

you laughed at the innocent and awfully unsuspecting question and decided to test the waters

“Friends ? Hardly, we are close though. In different ways” she seemed even more puzzled “Everytime you answer my questions I end up more lost and confused than I was before”

“Maybe I'm just that bad at conversing with others” she chuckled, a low raspy giggle almost “You give yourself too little credit. Had it not been for those coffees you left and your company Id probably still be on that rock crying” you smiled

“Glad I could help” you continued to smoke in silence and you inspected her clothes your eyes falling on the yellow brooch tied around her neck

“That's a nice brooch” she looked down and smiled “thanks. One of the few good things I own”

“Oh don't say that. You have a lovely sense of fashion darling” you held the ornament in your fingers leaning closer feeling her breath fan your cheeks. Something shifted and it wasn't even anymore. you looked up and saw her completely focused on your every movement catching her eyes that were stuck on your lips. Flattered, a cocky smile escaped you.

There was a tense moment that snapped from Peaston calling out to everyone informing them that dinner and drinks were ready.

You both pulled away from each other abruptly and pushed yourself off the tree patting your pants and dusting them off

“Will you join us?” you asked and she shrugged “Was about time I did”

•••

You were drunk. Way too fucking drunk.

“shit how many…” you tried to look around and count how many glasses of whiskey you had. everything was spinning and buzzing. Karen and Mary-beth were singing and you clumsily joined. Sadie sat next to you cracking a joke here and there but still was mostly quiet listening to all of you and sometimes laughing. Karen laid her head on your shoulder and her hand fell on your thigh beneath the table going upwards and staying there fondling your thigh. Too drunk to care if Sadie was looking, you indulged her sensual move and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

unbeknownst to you Sadie withdrew from you slightly and confused looked at the pair of you her frown growing deeper as Karens hand traveled higher eventually tugging at the metal belt clasp

amidst the chaos- which you were uncertain if there was any due to your drunken state- you remembered getting up and escaping to the quieter place of the camp, then your hands were on Karens hips and her lips on your neck biting and sucking and everything else was a blur

had you been slightly more sober you would have noticed that you weren’t completely hidden. Because Sadie was interested in you in ways she couldn’t explain and she was out looking for you that night. And she unfortunately caught a glimpse of your nasty sexual endeavors with the other woman who you had so willingly pinned against the tree and who elicited the most pornographic sounds

•••

Sadie caught herself interested in you. She liked the fact that you were a huntress and she liked more that you took little pity on her state and gave her solid motivation to get back on track with her life. She realized she chased your polite compliments when she wore a new accessory or when she braided her hair.

but to feel like this towards a woman? how?

she questioned and doubted it immediately believing it was the grief that made her lose her mind. That was until she saw you devouring karen in the deep of the forest. Something woke within her. fiery jealousy and heat bloomed in her chest and her core ached.

She-at first- was convinced she was repulsed by the act, finding it vulgar. than she thought that she was simply taken aback by it but not in an unpleasant way. eventually she decided to sleep frustrated and confused, unable to understand what she felt.

two days later she sought out Karen who seemed very eager to tease and taunt her

“What a voyeuristic eye that you have Adler”

“Are the two of you in a relationship?”

she laughed, loud enough to almost make her feel humiliated and stupid as if the answer was obvious

“Gods no! I mean I know she only likes women but I don’t care for things like that”

“only women?”

“If you ever find yourself with too much frustration pay her a visit. In my opinion every woman should feel her tongue” Sadies eyes widened and then she shook her head in disappointment

“Ill find other ways to keep myself busy” she barked growing angry with Karens games

“Suit yourself. I'm just saying that I trained her well” and with that she left. Sadie was angry. Jealous.She saw Karen marking her territory and she didn’t like that

why does she try to claim something that isnt hers

She avoided you on purpose for the upcoming days and she hated seeing your confusion and visible pain to her dismissive attitude

You once tried to approach her more boldly and in her spitefulness she spat

“what's up with you? Nothing to do?”

You huffed out a frustrated breath and crossed your arms standing in front of her.

“Ive thought about it a lot and it all boils down to you probably finding out I swing the other way”

“I did find out”

you nodded in repeat looking away and she saw your jaw tense and your brows lower “well Fuck me then” you hissed exasperated

“Id like to be alone” she said with a low growl and you scoffed “Really Sadie? Am I that disgusting to you now that you won’t even say goodmorning to me?” you raised your tone and she stood up “Don't you use that tone on me”

“or what?!” she stared at you long and hard. You were the first to break contact and took a step back, arms swinging softly

“You know what Sadie? You wanna be alone ? then be fucking alone” she watched as you turned your back on her and left immediately regretting how sbe handled that conversation.

She didn’t see you for a week after that. That week she herself was busy with her first bounty hunt and she could hardly be happy about it. Her stomach felt like she’d swallowed stones and her throat was dry.

and when you came back it was with Arhur, Hosea and another woman. Someone you rescued on your recent bounty hunt who was as lost as she once was. You attention was on the hurt woman keeping her company making sure she felt secure with your group of people

“Listen we ain’t good but we ain’t them either” you consoled an arm around her shoulders soothing her and Sadie had enough of it. She approached you with heavy steps the heel of her boots digging into the dirt

“I wanna talk to you”

you looked up and the girl in your arms seemed intimidated by her. Sadie disliked that she seemed threatening to an innocent person but her focus was on you and you alone

you silently questioned her, eyes wide, jaw tense as if saying really?! now?!

she stood her ground until you gave in and followed her back to your tent where you could have some privacy

“You wanted to talk? speak”

“Why do you have to be like that?” she asked annoyed and you shook your head defeated “Like what hon? I am around you and you are repulsed, I give you space and you are equally unsatisfied. The hell do you want from me, woman?!”

“I just needed time! Time!” she emphasized the words and you sat down knowing your knees were too weak to handle this unprovoked attitude

“time? for what?” You tried peacefully and truly exhausted knowing someone had to be tame or this conversation wouldn’t go far without resulting in you pulling a gun to each others head

“Christ I- I just was confused. I didn’t know a woman could look at a woman like that”

“And why does it concern you?” you asked and she seemed taken aback. Why indeed

Because I considered you that way too

she came to the conclusion her tongue numb and heavy, unable to speak these words out loud.

She hated how quickly you caught on and in a delightfully predatory way she watched you stand up and approach her, circling her like a vulture

“Sadie did you hate that I look at women like that or did you hate that you weren’t one of those women?”

the hair on the back of her neck rose and heat pooled in her stomach again. A feeling she thought had surely died with her late husband yet here it was.

“I wasn't?” she asked, her confidence faltering. She was sure she caught you staring at her chest, her lips, her hips at first not questioning the wandering gaze until she put the puzzle pieces together to figure out the reason behind it

your hands were on her shoulders running up and down the length of her arms slowly

“Would you like to be?” she turned around and as if in a dance sequence your hands fell on her neck to pull her in for a hungry kiss

She could feel how starved you were in the way your lips pressed against hers tasting her, imprinting the feel of her skin against hers. She returned the notion with equal fervor if not with more and was reluctant to be the one to submit. her hands landed on your hips pulling you in and she was shocked to find how right this position felt. how velvety your tongue felt against her own and how your skin molded into her palms becoming one.

she pulled away to take in a few deep and heavy breaths looking at you and was pleased to find you putty in her arms, to see the mighty huntress small, fragile and ready to do anything she would ask you to

“Do I awaken something in you Sadie?” You asked and held her closer, your arms wrapped around her neck and she responded by kissing you again loving the power and control she had. The passion melted into something more gentle, affectionate and tender and when you pulled away the second time she held your cheek in her hand caressing the flushed skin

“ that answer good enough for you?” she asked with a lazy smirk and you huffed out a laugh still gasping for air “Never thought you packed such heat” you confessed and her ego grew dangerously “You haven’t experienced the half of it”

•••

Unlike you, who was secretive and shameful of your nature the minute Sadie felt sure in herself she didn’t hesitate to greet you with a good morning kiss letting everyone think about what they just witnessed. As outlaws you certainly had bigger problems than two girls deciding to kiss each other and you came to the stupidly obvious realisation. Hosea and Arthur were the first ones to tell you

well we knew men didn’t do it for you, but I didn’t exactly know what did so…I just do now thats all it is

and you felt good about his awkward and reassuring words. Sadie didn’t care on the other hand. if she spent the night in your tent she didn’t hide it and if she felt like making a move on you while at the saloon she would and dealt with the consequences violently and eagerly still needing to vent out her pain and frustrations.

“are you not…scared?” you asked her once at night when you both laid together, naked beneath a thin sheet and she smiled giving you small kisses on your cheeks, jaw, neck

“I am scared of other things darling. Death is one of them. Random drunk men ain’t on the other hand are not”

“You aren’t indestructible Sadie. I worry for you” you confessed and she smiled “Nobody’s taking nothing from me ever again” she said and kissed you “And nobody’s taking me away from you either”

[timetravellibrarian]

Zoro x reader

Summary: A man seeks to follow his dreams, following only the path his swords carve for him and wherever his crew goes. Little does he know that the missing piece in his life, his soulmate whom he doesn't admit that he tries to seek would end up in a love-hate relationship

_________________________________________

Chapter Four

Dance lessons, decor planning, seating arrangements, guests, food, guards, flowers, attire fittings and so much more. That was what filled your schedule the past few weeks. The wedding had been delayed by another month due to extreme weather's that had balegan in the region but now preparations were at full swing.

You sat in the women's bathhouses releasing the stress and tension in your shoulders in the steaming hot water. Lyra had been dismissed for the day to attend to family matters leaving you to peruse the places a princess was allowed to be in the kingdom. Meaning no visits to the sea.

Secretly you were hoping to catch a break from it all. The questions like " How do you feel now that you're getting married?" and statements such as "Congratulations,my lady." You were getting tired of seeing prince Cassius attending to your every step and move like a love-struck puppy.

No offence to the man ofcourse , he was lovely. He brought flowers almost all the time he met you. He littered your hand with soft kisses when ever he'd greet. He'd humour you with tales of his upbringing as well as asked to know more about you. He was everything a maiden would dream of. But in your eyes it felt like a farce.

You didn't even know how to explain it. Like that feeling in your body that gives you warning signals about people. Sometimes they were wrong, most times they were right.

You hoped to whatever high power that was out there that you were wrong.

"Fancy seeing you here." Your older sister, Ophelia, broke you out of your thoughts. She was like the carbon copy of your mother. Dutiful, kind, obedient and gorgeous. She deserved the best. Why couldn't she marry Cassius? She is the eldest daughter and is far more graceful than the young woman who sits on precarious rocks just to stare longingly at the ocean.

"I got tired of people stripping me bare to fit me into wedding dresses."

Ophelia held in a laugh," You make it sound like it's torture." She settled into the water, making sure her hair didn't touch the wet surface.

"Picture getting naked infront of a bunch of strangers." You reached out for the small cup of sake you decided to treat yourself with.

She frowned," We are forbidden from drinking."

You downed the cup infront of you and poured yourself another,"Hasn't stopped me, has it?"

"I swear that tolerance of yours is just as high as father's, maybe even worse." She moved closer and stole the bottle, placing it far from your reach, much to your chagrin. "What's got you in such a stupor– you gave her a look–besides the whole wedding situation?"

Before the words of complaint could even leave your lips you refrained. If you told her what you truly felt it wouldnt change much, maybe she might report to mother. Then you'd be scolded for not being grateful at being married to such a kind prince.

"The weather. It's been looking rather awful." You sighed and looked away, the bottle looking quite comforting as it sat out of your reach.

"That doesn't make sense."

You looked her in the eyes, "Some day it will, I just don't know when." Standing up from the water you grabbed a towel and the your bottle and left the place, making sure to leave the place decent.

Damn, I miss Lyra.

_________________________________________

It was yours and Prince Cassius wedding.

Celebrations, well-wishers, and sexual innuendos thrown by that one uncle. Happy times.

"Lyra, get me another bottle please." You whispered to your trusted handmaiden and friend.

"It's not that bad ,my lady!" She chuckled.

Noble men, women,and honoured guests were feasting. The bards played songs of victory about past battles and later sang love songs to soothe everyone's hearts.

"A TOAST TO MY GORGEOUS DAUGHTER!" A half drunk king yelled," MY PRIDE AND JOY!" Everyone cheered with him and downed their drinks in one go. Mother shook her head with a smile before throwing a wink at you and mouthing "We love you."

Honestly seeing your father drunk was both concerning and heartwarming. Concerning because he never could get drunk with his alcohol tolerance. Heartwarming because he said what he truly felt about his family. About you. Then again there were times when he'd be violent, arguing with his advisors. Then other amusing times when he had refused to sit next to your mother because , to quote, "I LOVE MY WIFE ONLY WOMAN! DONT TEST MY PATIENCE!" which had occured years ago. He thought mother was trying to seduce him but he refused thinking she was another woman.

Now he was yelling blessings like a proud man. Mother took a small sip of her wine beside him, making sure that atleast one of them was a bit sober. That sound decisions could be made.

Your brothers; Amav and Kyro, twins , were dancing with a few ladies, sharing some funny jokes. Their eyes crinkling as they laughed. Ophelia sat beside mother like a dutiful daughter, not taking a sip of the drink in front of her. But she definitely was enjoying the cake. Rhen, the youngest of you all, only ten, was busy climbing on father's chair to try and take a sip of his drink only to be taken away by Lyra who scolded him on his actions.

Maybe getting married wasn't so bad. Maybe life would get better from now and for years to come. You felt an uneasy feeling, the mark at your wrist stinging. Maybe your soulmate was hurt? It's not disappearing so he's not dead.

Forgive me my love, I may have left you before I could even learn to love you

"Berry for your thoughts, my bride?" Cassius asked, his right hand linking with your left. His gaze falling to yours, eyes bright. Lips smiling. The same lips you had kissed when you said your vows. The man you'd be bound to for eternity, not by fate but by law.

You smiled," It's a wonderful day. The kingdom rejoices. No wars to be fought. It's perfect."

"And how are you? You speak of everything else but yourself, darling." He brought a spoon with cake to your lips. You ate it.

"To be fair, this arrangement felt so sudden. I have yet to learn who Cassius from Arkland is and he is yet to know me." The music faded as the two of you conversed. Dancing had begun and soon your mother and father were on the dance floor and Cassius' parents.

"You have yet to learn about me, my bride." He stood up, offering his hand,"For now you can learn about my exceptional dance skills."

You hesitate,"That's a start I guess." And he whisked you away, carrying you bridal style towards the middle of the ballroom and gently placing you on your feet.

His right hand went to your waist, his left holding onto your hand and soon he led you across the floors to the rhythm of the song.

The crowds of guests had stood aside, watching the two of you as if the both of you were a fairytale. Like you were meant for each other, like soulmates.

A wolf whistle could be heard coming from the crowd," THATS MY SISTER!!" Kyro yelled, a proud smile on his features. Amav hit him over the head before he could embarrass himself further. "YOU LOOK AMAZING!" He yelled, forgetting his earlier intentions and screaming his heart out.

You nearly laughed at the sight.

"We may have started off as strangers, my lady. Trust me when I say I was against the idea of suddenly marrying a woman and trying to get to know her for a few months." Cassius admitted , his breath fanning your neck sending goosebumos down your spine.

"You and I both then."

The music crescendos and he spun you around before lifting you into the air and placing you back down gently. "But now that I've seen you. Now that I know your gentle heart. I can't help but fall into the abyss of a foreign feeling. "

You kept up with his pace, moving in and out before spinning again. Your dress billowing around you. You took note of his wording. Smiling up at him as he smiled at you. Only letting the false smile go when your back was to him.

Lyra watched as the both of you danced like two swans in a lake. It was clear to her that Cassius was leading. She saw all those dance lessons making her lose hope in your sense of rhythm.

Her eyes went to see Cassius' mother and father. They hadn't drunk the wine at all throughout the wedding. Maybe they were abstainimg from it? No. It was something more. Lyra herself liked to indulge in a drink or two but since her lady was keeping those drinks occupied throughout the wedding she decided to be sober in the case of making sure no one took advantage. Not even her husband. She held little Rhen by the hand, leading her toward the exit to get her changed since some food had stained her dress. She passed a coughing attendant and handed her a glass of water. "Are you alright?" She knelt down and gave her a napkin seeing an alarmingly red substance get wiped off when the woman let go of the napkin. "Blood...?"

"Do you want to know what that feeling is my love?" Cassius whispered back to you. It was like he was sharing a secret nobody had to know but you. An intimate secret.

He pulled you in, grip gentle but firm. You furrowed an eyebrow, moving in a bit closer to try and hear him over the music. "What is it, if I may ask."

He went in, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. Once they parted, he kissed your temple. "Guilt my love. As much love as I may harbour for you, I doubt it would be enough for you to reconsider and forgive me."

Your eyes looked into his, the music blocking out almost everything going on around you. Almost.

Coughs had erupted from everyone. The results of their coughing dripping down slowing from their lips, eyes wide in fear and shock.

"GET A DOCTOR!" Ophelia had yelled, trying to get your collapsed father from the floor. You mother had tears in her eyes, tears of pain. On the other side of the crowd lay Amav and Kyro unmoving. Their hands held tightly together from trying to previously pick each other up once the other had collapsed. Their lips coated in blood.

It was something out of a nightmare. Blood splattered every where, on the floor, on the table. Your eyes widened in horror.

"What did you do?!" You tried to push against Cassius chest to try and assist your family. To try and save your guests.

"I don't like it at all. But mother says it's the most effective method." He said, no longer whispering in your ears . "Painless."

Lyra's eyes widened and quickly she ran and pulled Ophelia away from the dead bodies of her mother and father. Rhem was frozen in shock , being pulled away by Lyra.

"Come on, we have to get out of here!" Her eyes went to her friend, to you. She'd promised herself she would save you later. That she'd make sure to get you back alive. First she had to get the royals in her care out if harm's way.

Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you begged for Cassius to let you go. Your heart unable to take the loss of your family and friends. You pushed and kicked but it was as if he felt nothing. All your strength had left you, and not even the buzz of the alcohol in your system could numb the hurt.

"YOU MONSTER!!!!"

He hushed you, placing your head on his chest as you cried. Your voice faded into a whisper, "You monster!?"

True to what you had thought , promises are merely words used to appease fools. A wedding to unite families. A promise. Everyone was a fool.

_________________________________________

Zoro woke up in a cold sweat, his eyes searching the room. Everyone was asleep in their beds, fully knocked out from all the fighting they had done in Enemies Lobby. He stood up and headed for the bathroom.

His hands held the sink as if he was trying to steady himself. Zoro looked in the mirror. Locks of green strewn all over his forehead, dark circles under his eyes, heartbeat going to fast. What the hell was happening? It's like his heart was shattering into pieces but he didn't know why. From what he knew, he thought the mark on his wrist was just there to tell himwho his soulmate was. What's with all the random emotions?

"Are you alright Zoro?" Robin's voice broke him out of his thoughts. She had a cup of tea in her hands.

The swordsman nodded, though it wasn't believable to the woman."I'm guessing it's your soulmate?"He stayed silent before turning on the tap and washing his face to try and wake up.

"I may be able to help you. If you want me to..." She offered. Ever since she had joined the Strawhats she felt safe, happy. The thought of them getting hurt because of her past had scared her. Made her surrender to CP9. Now she had been rescued from the World Government's clutches thanks to her friends, her family.

Zoro deleted his pride for the moment, thinking about the pro's and cons of opening up the shell that is his soulmate. "Yeah,"

They found themselves outside, Zoro facing the waves as they lapped against the ship. Robin took a seat at one of the chairs that had been left outside. She took a sip of her tea.

"So..."

"So?"

"What do you wanna know, Swordsman.?"

Zoro stood silently, thinking about whether or not he would want to ask the question. The crew would tease him if they found out how much he really cared about whoever he was connected to. That he would be willing to die for them. He grew up with the mark as a reminder that he wasn't alone out here in this great big world. Now he was never alone with this crew. But what about the person he was meant to love?is she alone?Does she have a family?

"Do soulmate marks get you physically?" He didn't know how to word the question.

"Well, according to research made for centuries, your type of mark does infact connect you to your soulmate, anything like strong emotions and injuries, though those are faint when felt." She answered, adjusting her gown due to the cold wind.

"What does it mean if it actually felt really painful?"

Robin hesitated then looked at him, "Then it must be something extremely traumatic or extreme happiness."

Zoro frowned, there was no f-ing way that the feeling he felt was happiness. It was a feeling of broken hopes. Hurt. Mourning.

"And is there a way we can trace where my soulmate mark is bonded to?"

Robin shook her head, a small frown on hsr face.

Zoro sighed, maybe it truly was up to fate to bring both you and your love together and judgkng by how the mark is slightly faint anything could happen.

@chillerkiller

@mars-mizuko

@mythically stupid

@bi-narystars

@urbisexualfriend

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Kishibe x reader [ SYNOPSIS ] A late night visitor comes to you seeking comfort. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.9k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, hurt/comfort, y/n is a civilian, alcohol (duh), dubcon (he's drunk and y/n is sober), descriptions of violence, love bites, his dick is pierced, teasing, vaginal sex, creampie, cum eating, oral sex, not beta'd and there's barely a plot lol.

It was three in the morning when you heard a gentle rapping at your front door. You had fallen asleep on your couch, dreaming of pleasantries. A hearty discontented moan emanated from your chest. Not answering was your best option, but in your sleepy haze your judgment lapsed.

You swiftly opened the door and groaned. “Oh, so you’re alive.”

You stared at the dark-haired man slumped in your doorway. His tie was loose and limp, shirt half-tucked in. Disheveled didn’t even begin to describe his appearance. Not that you were much better. You answered the door pantsless and in a boxy t-shirt with the hem hacked off.

“Disappointed?” Kishibe slurred.

“Maybe.”

“Too bad,” he said as he handed you a bottle of whiskey. “I brought an offering though.”

You side-stepped and let the wet cat of a man into your home. He leaned against the wall and kicked off his shoes. He looked like shit, but in a strangely appealing way.

“Let’s not pretend that’s for me,” you said as you set the bottle down on your cherry wood table.

He draped his arms over your shoulders and nuzzled his face in your hair. He reeked of cigarettes and sweat.

“You smell nice.”

“You smell like shit.”

The two of you stood in silence, your door a gaping mouth. You wanted to shut it, but you didn’t want to disturb the man clinging to you. You stood there for a minute before you gently pushed Kishibe off of you.

“Want to tell me why you’re here?”

“No,” he said, tone sardonic. “C’mon. You know I hate sleeping alone.”

“And how is that my problem?”

“Because you love me.” You guffawed at his brazen claim. He adjusted his tune. “You like me... You tolerate me.”

“Alright.” You sighed. “You can stay, but you have to shower. There’s no way in hell you’re getting in my bed like this.”

“Be nice to me. I almost died. Don’t you wanna baby me?”

“Not really.”

“Fine. I’ll shower,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. He walked past you heading towards your bathroom. “But you better let me sleep next to you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“And we’re sharing a blanket this time,” he said, dropping his shirt on the ground.

It looked like a piece of crumpled paper. You picked it up and tossed it in your laundry basket. You would make sure it’d be clean by morning.

You heard your shower turn on and an incredibly pleased moan. Your breath got caught in your throat as you were inundated with perverse ponderings.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Fuck!”

The bathroom door was ajar. You slinked over to it and pushed it open before sitting on the ground. The steam surrounded you. You looked over at his pants, frowning as you noticed the blood stains.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Just mentally, nothing physical.”

“What about the bl—”

“Someone else’s,” he replied flatly.

The need to baby him grew stronger by the minute. You wanted to pull back the shower curtain and hug him.

“Don’t worry about it.” His words were hardly reassuring. “I’m used to it.”

You never knew how to respond to things like that. It was always a casual deluge of nightmares when he spoke. You had taken to listening rather than trying to solve solutionless problems. That must have been what he liked about you.

“I mean it was the first time I’d ever seen someone’s skin get sucked off their body, but it could’ve been worse.”

“For real?!”

“Yeah, like a vacuum. Poor guy died screaming for his mother. And then the devil wore his skin like a suit.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Nah.”

“No. Seriously. That’s fucked up.”

He peeked out from behind the shower curtain, dark hair obscuring his eyes.

“Are you feeling bad for me?”

“Yes!”

“Good,” he laughed, turning off the shower. “Can you bring me a towel?”

You wordlessly got up and dug through your linen closet for your softest towel. If anyone else had treated you that way you would have kicked them out. But you knew it was a defense mechanism; Kishibe’s actions had context so your sympathy was easy to draw out.

You returned to see him standing on your bathroom rug with his head hung low, hands on the countertop. Immediately you noticed his cock, thick and long, and the silver barbell piercing the tip. He perked up at the sound of your footsteps. You put the towel on top of his head and dried his hair, acting as if you weren’t transfixed by his considerable length.

“You don’t have to do this.”

You smiled. “Didn’t you say you wanted me to baby you?”

“I did, didn’t I…”

You wrapped the towel around his broad shoulders and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving him to the rest. Your bed was already unmade, sheets still soaked with last night’s sleep. You smoothed out the wrinkles so it didn’t look quite as chaotic. There was no real reason for it; it’s not as if he’d notice or even care. But still you felt compelled. He deserved placidity in small gestures. 

You glanced over your shoulder only to be startled by his presence. The towel was barely clinging to his waist. His body was flecked with bruises of varying color and size.

“I thought you said you only got hurt mentally.”

He looked down at his battered body. “These are old.”

He yawned and breezed past you, cozying himself in your bedding.

“A damp towel in my bed? Really?”

He pulled it off of himself and dropped it on the floor. You rolled your eyes and crawled into bed. He spooned you immediately, burying his face in your neck. It felt too intimate. Usually you had his clothed body cocooned in his own blanket.

“You finally gonna let me fuck you?”

Your stomach dropped and words eluded you. Sometimes his brazen nature took you by surprise.

“Or are you committed to your long con?”

“I’m not conning you,” you scoffed. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

He held you tighter. “Please take advantage of me. This may be your last chance.”

“Shut up. Get some sleep.”

“You used to be so nice.”

You were vaguely offended. “I am nice. I’m very nice in fact.”

“No. You’re cruel,” he said before planting a kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Are you not sleeping in my bed? I let you use my favorite towel. I’m letting you press your dick up against my ass.”

Kishibe paused. “Well of course you're gonna sound nice when you lay it out like that.”

Silence enveloped the room. You shut your eyes and waited for sleep to take you. He slipped his hand under your shirt and cupped your breast. Rather than push it away you let it linger. It drifted down your abdomen before settling underneath your underwear, his fingertips centimeters from your clit. He began to rut his hips, hard cock rubbing against you and leaving a trail of precum in its wake.

“Wait, are you actually letting me do this?”

You groaned. “Yeah. Don’t make me regret it.”

He rubbed small circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. Your heart started to pound. You exhaled deeply and tried to maintain composure. Your underwear were already sticky with your arousal. You hated being so easy, so quick to fall apart at the seams.

His fingers swept down your folds, coating them in your fluids.

“I can’t believe you’re this wet already.”

“What else am I supposed to be?!”

You looked back at him and he smirked. You rolled over onto your back away from his grasp, pretending he actually hurt your feelings. You pouted, hoping you’d make him feel a little bad. He scooched closer to you.

“You’re a shitty actor,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow.

His eyes were fixed on your chest, how the fabric did little to obscure your hard nipples. The intensity of his gaze weighed on you.

“It’s impolite to stare.”

“When did I ever say I was polite?” Kishibe asked, getting on top of you. He pulled up your shirt. “You know me better than that.”

He pushed your underwear to the side and delved his rough fingers inside you, keeping his thumb pressed up against your clit. His lips were glued to your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing your skin. He began groping you with his free hand, pinching your nipple. A string of moans tumbled from your mouth.

You arched your back and thrust against his fingers. They felt divine, but you wanted to feel full. You couldn’t help but think about how his cock would feel throbbing inside your wet cunt.

“Need your cock,” you choked out, embarrassed you couldn’t get a full sentence out.

“Is that so?”

He slowly removed his fingers and didn’t hesitate to pull down your underwear. He teased your cunt with his tip, the metal tickling your tender flesh. It felt so good, but his pace frustrated you. You wanted all of him now. You didn’t want to be patient. He should have known that. You whined pathetically in protest.

Seemingly taking pity on you he plunged his cock inside you. Your hands fell to your slides and gripped the sheets. His thrusts were deep and filled with longing. You almost felt bad for turning him down so many times.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he bottomed out.

He looked down at you and grabbed ahold of your jaw. Your breath hitched as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, radiating passion. You felt so wanted, so needed. You were putty in his hands. Your body quivered in the shadow of his.

He broke the kiss. “You want more?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babbled.

He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. Each of his thrusts were punctuated with a throaty moan. You didn’t think his cock could go deeper into you, but he was more than willing to prove you every shade of wrong. Your skin was hot. You couldn’t stop panting. You felt like he was going to split you in two and it was the definition of blissful.

You were holding on by a thread, losing yourself as your orgasm swirled around you.

“Where do you want it?” He groaned.

“Wa—want what?”

“My cum.”

“Inside. Inside,” you panted.

A shot of warm cum filled your cunt. He fucked it deeper and deeper inside you. He dropped your leg and pulled out. You could have hit him for stopping when you were so close to climaxing. Just as you went to say something he began to lap his cum out of your cunt.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as he sucked on your clit, stubble brushing up against your thighs.

You sighed as your orgasm crescendoed, moans filling the room. You rutted against his face, unable to obscure your ecstasy. He looked up at you, ardor filled eyes meeting yours. He gave your clit one last long lick before kissing the inside of your thighs.

“Th—that was… I mean, wow,” you said, struggling to express your gratitude.

He sat up, looking a little dazed. Poor thing. You knew better than to try to move so soon after coming.

“You going somewhere?” You teased.

“Huh?”

You reached out to him. “Lay back down,” you cooed.

Your words were more than enough to convince him. He cuddled up next to you, resting his head on your chest. You stroked his still damp hair and closed your eyes.

“You know… I’d be up for another round in a bit.”

You waited for a response, but none came.

“Kishibe.”

He groaned and you took that as your cue to quiet down. You would pester him about riding his face in the morning.

Here's "part 2".