#imagine any robin you'd like

[demonicsuffrage]

Civilian, mad after robin did some property damage while saving them: Um, I would like to talk to your manager?

Robin: Oh my manager?

Robin, speaking into his comm right in front of the civilian: Batman, some Bitch wants to talk to you

[lostalioth]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

→ premise: eddie wasn’t convinced you were as innocent as you acted. his pervy thoughts of you were often guided by all the little dirty things you did. he knew he shouldn’t think that way you were his friend after all but you had to know what you were doing to him right?

→ pairing: perv!bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, 2.1k words, corruption kink, dacryphilia, frontagge? [eddie rubs his dick against her til he cums?] unprotected penetration, small bit of degrading language [whore], nicknames [baby, pretty girl, sweets, pretty best friend], reader is described to wear eddies shirt and pink/girly clothing a bit, not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 12

Eddie was a touchy guy, a very touchy best friend in fact. He seemed to lack any awareness of personal space when it came to you.

Having you sit in his lap during movie nights whether it's just the two of you or if Robin or Steve join in. Laying his head in your lap while you play with his hair and his hands palm at your thighs tracing shapes on them. Draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you to his side when you're in the middle of a conversation with someone or leaning his body weight against you. Now to you and your naive mind, you found all this and everything else he may do as innocent, you didn't understand why everyone new you met assumed the two of you were dating.

Except for Eddie everything he did, he had a little pervy underlying reason to it. Leaning on you and pulling your body against his to feel your soft skin on his and subconsciously claiming you as his. Sitting you in his lap to feel the heat radiating from your pussy on his cock even through multiple layers of fabric. Laying his head on your lap and rubbing on your thighs Imagining his head is buried between them instead.

Constantly he came up with any excuse he could to have his hands on you, to have your body against his, even rub up against you when given the chance when he’d scoot behind you to get somewhere even if there was a clearer path to his destination. Rubbing his bulge lightly against your ass when he’d brush by. To him there was no way you weren’t aware of his intentions when he did these things and all the little pervy moves he made. Every dirty thought he had or thing he did was guided by the seemingly not so innocent things you would do.

Though you weren’t actually aware of just what the things you'd do, did to poor ole’ Eddie. Batting your eyelashes at him when you wanted to be the one to pick the movie, pressing your body against him of your own accord when a scary part came on during one of his movie picks. He even swears though he isn’t 100% sure it wasn't a very vivid dream that you were grinding your ass against him for a second one time you were sitting in his lap.

It was currently one of those frequent movie nights and Eddie was painfully hard, his cock has been aching the moment he walked inside your house. Part of it sure was that he was just excited to have quality time with his pretty little best friend but then when he came in and saw the state you were in he was a goner. You were more comfortable around Eddie than anyone and you had opted to be cozy so all you had on was a long t-shirt and frilly pink socks, no pants on. Being the perv he was and with the fact he couldn't tell exactly he was secretly wishing you didn't have any panties on either.

Eddie got to pick the movie and it was one he’d seen a million times over so it didn't matter that he couldn't bring himself to pay attention. His eyes glued to you, your thighs exposed almost more than they are when you wear your tiny lacey skirts that also almost kill Eddie. Any last drop of reserve or self-control he had was slowly draining away from his body.

If he thought too hard about everything he felt like a piece of shit bestfriend that all he could think of during movie nights anymore was bending you over your living room couch and claiming your pussy as his. Making you his as you whine and moan that it's too much to take and he tells you what a good girl you’re being. Expect there was a small denranged part of him that desperatly wanted to corrupt your sweet naive mind until you’re the one who can only think about him fucking you, making you just as much of a pervert as he was.

Far too lost in own dirty thoughts he fails to notice that the movie has now ended, meaning it was your turn to pick and he should probably stop staring at your body.

“That was a good movie. Ed's wasn't as scary of a movie as you usually pick” your sweet voice snaps him out of his trance and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from your thighs crossed over one another.

“Oh uh yeah, figured I’d pick a calmer one this time for you sweets” he explains, lightly coughing as he squeezed the pillow that's been covering his lap this whole time, a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes forms on his face as he finally turns his attention to your face. Though switching his focus fails to dull the throbbing in his stiff cock, if it goes on any longer there's definitely going to be a wet spot in his boxers. You smile back at him before getting up from the couch, running over to the kitchen and putting the empty popcorn bowl in the sink. He watches as you walk away, a small groan leaving his lips, it didn't help that the shirt you wore was one of his old hellfire shirt’s. You in his clothes always made his heart ache just as much as his dick, you often stole his shirts or hoodies which didn't help people thinking you were dating and Eddie secretly loved that.

With a bounce in your step you make your way back over to the couch, standing more in front of Eddie as you do. Bending at the waist you lean over to pick the remote up off the oddly low coffee table, your shirt riding up as you do. Giving him an agonizingly perfect view of your ass and the mound of your pussy in your little pink panties. “Oh fuck..” he groans out, his knuckles turning white from how hard he is gripping the pillow infront of him. You turn around facing him now as you lean back up, having heard Eddie mumble out something. “What’d you say Ed’s??” You question with a cute look of confusion on your face.

His last ounce of composure and restraint flies out the window as he throws the pillow off his lap and grabs ahold of your hips pulling you into his lap.

“You fucking feel that pretty girl? That’s what you do to me, fuckin’ killing me sweets” he groans out, his bulge pressed right against your cunt, his jeans and your thin panties do nothing to stop him from feeling the heat settling in your core. you gasp out dropping the remote onto the cushion besides you as you feel just how hard he is. The cold metal of his rings sends a shiver down your spine when his hands push up at your shirt, bunching it up as they go. “But- I didn't do anything, or- I didn't mean to anyway Ed’s” you manage to stutter out, taken aback by both his abruptness and how good his cock feels against you even confined in denim. Lifting you up before letting go of your hips for a second so you're hovering over him, he unbuckles his belt and button to his jeans before tugging them down his thighs. “Ed’s I-I dont think best friends do this…” you whine out yet don't make any move to stop him as he grabs ahold of your hips again, planting your pussy right on his cock again with only thin underwear separating you now. You may be naive and innocent but you weren't a virgin you were well aware of what he was doing.

“it’s okay baby, just be my pretty little best friend and let me play with you okay, my cocks aching for ya’ yeah?” His tone is soft and slurred, his head going hazy in desire for you and the fact you were letting him go this far. “Mhmm~ okay i can do that” you whine out, your hips having a mind of their own squirming and grinding against him as his hands rub down your thighs.

“Atta girl sweets, s’good to me, always so sweet on me” he groans out as his fingers inch closer and closer to your aching pussy. Your slick has managed to begin soaking your panties, while Eddie's tip leaks precum forming a matching wet spot on his boxers. Tugging your panties to the side he runs his middle and ring finger through your slick folds, running over your clit that jumps at the small bit of attention. Your breath catches in your lungs as your eyes are glued to where your best friend's hands are playing with your leaking pussy. “Eddie.. it feels s’good” you whine out your hips bucking at his touch every time his fingers brush over your bundle of nerves.

“Look at you pretty girl, so fucking wet f’me like a little fucking whore” he groans out as he pushes down at his boxers, you lift your hips to help subconsciously. He pushes them down only enough to let his cock spring free, his cock thick, tip reddened and as veins run along the underside of his shaft. Your eyes are entranced by the sight, your mouth watering and your hole clenching around nothing, who knew your best friend had such a pretty cock.

Grabbing onto the base of his cock he angles it to nudge open your slit and run his tip through your soaked folds, grinding his shaft against your pussy. “Ahh~ pleasee Ed’s need you inside” you whine out, already getting overwhelmed, his cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves and tip just barely pushing at your hole before slipping out. The ongoing teasing and desire for him to push inside you crowd your head making it go fuzzy. “Nooo not yet baby, not till you're begging for it, gotta corrupt my sweet innocent little best friend til shes a cock hungry whore begging for me to fuck her” he chuckled darkly, even though he was more desperate than you to finally push into the warm heat of your cunt he was gonna make you beg for it.

Tears well up in your eyes threatening to fall as you buck against him in response to his hips grinding against your pussy. “Aww ya’ gonna cry sweets? Go on cry baby, beg for it” he groans out, he knew it was sick but as your tears fall down your cheeks he can feel his balls tighten, heavy and full of cum that's almost ready to burst. Your slick and his precum mix together to soak your panties, the thin fabric turning see through as he hooks it over his cock to keep it pressed between your folds.

“Fuck im gonna cum pretty girl, should cum in these fuckin’ flimsy panties and ruin em’ then stuff them in your mouth as i stuff this pussy” he growls out, his words making your pussy throbbing and your head spin, your head nodding frantically desperate for him to do exactly that. “Yeah baby? Want me to do that?” He taunts, a lopsided smirk glued to his lips as he leans in closer, forehead pressed against yours while your tears continue to fall down your cheeks, your eyes turning red and puffy the longer you cry out in pleasure.

“Please Ed’s yes!~ please need you to cum and i need you to fuck me please” you moan out, a deep stasifaction settled in eddie at your plea and he surges forward to press his lips to yours muffling your whines. Your thighs burning from grinding desperately against him, the last string of Eddie's snaps just as you dig your nails into his biceps and cry out his name into the heated frantic kiss. Hot ropes of cum spurt out and coat the inside of your panties and paint your puffy folds. Not stopping his thrusting Eddie grabs his cock that's still sandwiched under your now ruined panties and guides his still leaking tip to your entrance. Pulling away from your lips, he slaps his hand over your mouth just as he pushes inside you in one sharp hard thrust. A cry of pleasure and maybe some pain falls from your lips, along side a long line of curse muffled agianst his rough hand as he fucks up into the wet heat of your pussy that clenches down on him.

“My pretty bestfriend’s gonna be such a good fuckin’ cock drunk whore, all f’me now, all mine” all you can do in nod in respone, your eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure.

→ a/n: I rushed the end of this so i could get it out today and get back on track with kinktober lmao and somehow its still 2 thousand words and some change lmao but anyway enjoy loves give me feedback and tell me if something is misspelled this wasnt read over as im tired.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[cloudzoro]

Kink Discovery | One Piece ♡

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

individual reaction/headcanon scenarios on kink discovery with op characters!

theres part 2 and part 3 featuring more characters :)

part 2 | part 3 | masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

genre: smut (minors dni)

characters included: Ace, Law, Nami, Robin, Sanji & Zoro

cw: spitting, biting, rough sex, sub!sanji, squirting, high heels, lingerie, fem!reader, big dick!law, big dick!zoro, possessive behaviour

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Ace - hair-pulling

Ace is such a giver. He loves eating you out. He works his tongue over your folds before lowering down and dipping his tongue into your hole. What he lacks in strategy he makes up for tenfold in passion. He's eager to please. You writhe around with pleasure and, with nowhere to hold onto, your hands naturally slide onto his hair.

You don't catch the first time he grunts at the way you grip his gorgeous hair but, when you give a particularly harsh tug, he can't stop the moan that leaves his mouth in response to the stinging of his scalp. He knows he's been caught so he pulls away from your cunt to look at you.

“do that again”

You oblige, gripping his locks tighter and pushing his head back between your legs.

Law - biting

“We gotta be quiet, baby”, he whispers, covering your mouth with his hand. He has you against the wall in his room and is trying to keep you as quiet as possible so you don't get caught by any of his crew. His cock thrusts in and out of you, and it has you going delirious. You're deliciously stretched out that you can't help but moan into his hand.

Law isn't faring much better; the warm walls of your cunt squeeze his cock in a way that has him gripping the wall behind you. His orgasm is so close he can practically taste it. In the heat of the moment, with nothing else to muffle the sounds he makes, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. The pleasurable sting pushes you over the edge with him, and you all but scream into his palm.

When he finally catches his breath he leans back, keeping his arms out to steady you, and admires the red bite mark decorating your shoulder. The marks make a possessive fire ripple through his body.

“this looks so pretty"

Nami - lingerie

Nami loves shopping. She often ends up buying clothes she thinks you'll look pretty in, so it's no surprise to you when she returns to the sunny, waving a shopping bag around in front of your face. She leaves the room, wanting to be surprised when you put her gift on. You open the bag to see a pretty red lingerie set. It's beautiful, just the type of stuff you'd imagined Nami would be into. Delicate lace in a scorching red colour is right up her alley.

She walks into the room and it's as if she's seeing you for the first time. You look like a present, gift wrapped for her pleasure. She guides you to stand in front of her, between her legs, while she sits on the bed. She leans forward, pressing tender kisses to your stomach and hips as her hands trace the lace covering your most intimate areas. Her fingers slide under the back of the panties and she grabs two handfuls of ass to pull you on top of her.

Now that you're seated comfortably on her lap, she's at a prefect height to show some appreciation for your tits. She whispers sweet praises as she lines the edge of the pretty lace bra with kisses. She's never taken this long to undress you before and you already know she'll have you shaking and begging before she's ready to unwrap her pretty little present.

Robin - squirting

Robin has you seated on her lap, legs spread open by two of her ‘arms’. She has two more of her arms playing with your pussy; one hand slides in and out of your used cunt, which is sensitive from already cumming twice, and the other is rubbing your swollen clit. Her real hands are gripping your tits, squeezing them and rolling your nipples between her fingers.

You had mentioned off-handedly that you can squirt, and Robin was immediately fascinated. She quickly became obsessed with the idea of making you gush for her. Your body is thoroughly shaking, and her lips pressing messy, wet kisses to your neck and shoulders does little to soothe you. You can feel another orgasm buying, and you don't get the chance to warn her before you arch so hard you almost fall off of her lap. A gushing noise accompanies your heavy breaths.

She can't decide what captivates her more; the way your legs shake with overstimulation or the way you whine and whimper her name. Pleased with her results she brings her soaked hand up to her mouth and licks your release from her fingers.

Sanji - submission

Sanji has always had puppy-like qualities; he follows you around and is incredibly affectionate towards you at all times. His love for you borders on worship, and you're surprised it's taken this long for that dynamic to work itself into your relationship. He brings up the idea of dirty talk first, just simple degradation, but over time, he gets bolder and bolder.

He gets a collar so you can drag him around to where you want to be. He buys you shoes at every place so you can look the part when you step on him. He's happy to get on his knees and eat your perfect pussy until you're crying. He wants nothing more than to be at your service twenty-four-seven. He remembers the first time he submitted to you so clearly.

“Good boy,” you say, slipping two fingers under his collar and pulling him into a sloppy kiss. It's rare for him to hear the phrase without degrading words preceding it. He whines into your mouth, desperate to get some release after you've been teasing him all day. “you can let go now,” you say, pressing your heeled shoe against his crotch. Being the good boy he is, his body follows through, and he cums in his pants at the pressure under your shoe.

Zoro - spitting

“You like that?” Zoro asks as he drills into you. He likes to have you in missionary so he can watch your face while he fucks you. You grit a response out through your teeth, barely able to get the words out. Another deep thrust makes you moan wildly, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your open mouth looks so inviting to the swordsman who reaches one of his hands up to your face to grip your jaw. “keep that pretty mouth open for me”

Zoro doesn't know what comes over him but he spits into your mouth. It's gross and possessive, just like him. You whine at the feeling of his spit hitting your tongue and you feel his cock twitch at the sound. You thought he couldn't fuck you any harder but you're proved wrong when he readjusts his grip on your legs. He watches your throat as you swallow and the grin plastered on his face is demonic.

“that's so fucking hot, you're such a good girl” The image of you letting him corrupt and defile you with his spit spurs him on to his orgasm. He holds off the best he can until you cum and then he finally lets himself go, panting and leaving trails of saliva across your pretty skin.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

likes and reblogs are massively appreciated

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

Usually when you envision a "dad" you see someone dorky. Someone with the same sense of humor as a child, someone with a lot of energy who keeps up with toddlers running him ragged, someone with a desk job to provide for his family. The stereotypical "dad" imagery dissipates at the sight of BABY DADDY!JASON TODD interacting with his daughter.

He's not around a lot—it's not feasible to be—but when he comes over, you tilt your head at how different he looks than what one would expect. Sometimes you forget that he's a father at all, since he appears so far removed from one. He's dangerous, and untameable. Nothing like any dad you've known. Wild hair, that striking white streak pluming proudly from his hairline. He hasn't gotten a cut in a while, and it looks too good on him. He wears clothes you'd think a father wouldn't like, the kind of biker jackets and big boots that would make a father forbid his daughter from seeing that rebellious boyfriend. Brief memories of riding around town on the back of his motorcycle or staying up late to fuck brings a smile to your face despite how mad you still are at him.

There's something hopelessly alluring about him, keeps you forgiving him every time he tracks you down when you've hidden yourself and your daughter away. No matter where you move, it doesn't take him long to find you.

"Dad! Dad! Watch this, watch me!" the shrill voice of your daughter cuts through your thoughts, demanding Jason's attention as she stands wobbly on the couch cushion.

He towers next to you, halfway facing you and your daughter, dividing his attention. Hands rest on his hips, shaping his leather jacket exquisitely as he nods to her to let her know he's watching. She leaps from the cushion to land on the floor, flipping her hair up to beam at him, waiting for his approval.

"You're a regular acrobat, you know that? Just like your old man." he commends casually as she chases his leg, latching on with her full body to peer up at him. Carefully, he extracts her, picking her up by her arm like a monkey until he can settle her on his hip. Your gaze scans his figure, having bulked up since you last saw him. You knew bits and pieces about his past, specifically his time as a Robin. He was flexible then, flying through the air like a bullet. Now he's much more solid, as immovable as a mountain and less agile which he makes up for in sheer strength. You don't want to imagine your daughter growing up in the same way he did.

[rainydaygotham]

I MARRIED MY STALKER —more on page 4

Tim Drake x reader || part 1 || 1760 words

a/n: okay so some context, this is supposed to be an isekai’d reader. only been in this universe for a month but knows dc lore. also i wrote 90% of this literally 2 years ago lol i stay silly

It was a strange situation. Laughable, in a twisted kinda way. You knew you had a stalker. You hear him follow you home every night after work. Or, well, morning technically. You get off that late.

You've never been one to write something off as paranoia. Especially now that you lived in Gotham. Especially especially since you lived in the Narrows. Like you're not stupid.

Whenever you would turn around, checking your surroundings, you wouldn’t find him. The footsteps weren't on the ground, you've elicited. He was up in the rooftops, doing parkour. Great.

You really hoped it wasn't a supervillain. Imagine that, you're given the miraculous opportunity to carve out a new life for yourself in a big city and you almost immediately get killed horrifically by a guy in a halloween costume before you even get a chance. Actually, with the way your luck goes, that checks out.

It was becoming increasingly clear the predator didn't just know your work schedule, either. When you'd go out for groceries, or to a diner, he’d often find you then too, following you around town. It was like he was studying your behavior patterns, which actually is pretty typical of a true old fashioned stalker, now that you think of it.

Even so. He never got any closer than he always did. Never actually attacking you. And eventually, you got used to his presence, thinking nothing of it when you heard the occasional scuff of boots against the concrete and metal of the city.

But the strangest thing happened as you shambled home from your second job tonight, eager to get on with your evening.

You see him.

Or, at least, you see his shadow. His form silhouetted against the wall, standing bold as he eclipsed the red glow coming from some sort of neon sign.

He doesn't move, as you stare at the shadow on the wall. Which strikes you as odd, if not terrifying, because you had gotten the vibe that this man knew what he was doing. It was like he wanted you to know he was there.

And you recognize the silhouette. That's Red fucking Robin.

You take a deep breath. You are relieved, truthfully. Even if it was clear he thought of you as some sort of target.. Or maybe he was protecting you from the real stalker, and the supervillain theory was truer than you'd hoped…

“I don't believe I have any information you would want,” you call out, trying to figure just what the hell he thinks he’s doing.

“That’s not necessarily true,” his voice is different than you expected.

“So like. You gonna beat the shit out of me or can we go up to my apartment and have this discussion over a pot of coffee?”

“I— I would never hurt you,” his calm and deep voice cracked for a second, like he couldn't believe what you just implied. You know as if he hadn't been stalking you almost the entire time you'd been in this goddamn city.

“So my place it is, then,” you confirmed.

“You’d invite a dangerous vigilante into your home?”

“Are you saying you don’t have the ability to ‘let yourself in’ at any time you please?”

“Well, no,”

“Then I don't see how me voluntarily letting you in is any less dangerous.”

And that's how you wound up in this situation, nervously pouring a mug of coffee for one of Gotham's infamous vigilantes.

You were glad that he for some reason took this softer route. As you recall, whenever a Bat wants to have a talk with someone they usually just appear in the shadows of their home or office, scaring the bejeebus out of them.

You couldn't completely tell, because of the mask, but you got the feeling he wasn't looking around. He'd already studied your apartment, most likely. His eyes were trained solely on you.

"Room for cream and sugar?" you ask. You know the answer. You're a barista in the daytime, and you've served a certain Wayne Ent. CEO more than a few times already. Which, now that he could be your stalker, makes sense. He was scoping you out. Great.

"No thanks. I prefer it black."

"Dark like you, right?"

He cracked the smallest of smiles as he took the mug from your hands, like he was holding back from outright grinning. Strange. That was a really lame and overdone joke. Maybe he doesn't get out much.

"I like it black too," you ran a hand through your hair,

"I know you’ve been following me around," he looked a little guilty at your accusation, "but I don’t know why. I haven’t done anything suspect—“

“I’m protecting you,” Tim butt in.

“I’m in danger?”

He shifted uncomfortably.

"…I can’t say that you aren’t.”

“Goddamnit," you set the mugs down on the table a little too aggressively, "So what am I looking at here? Joker? Poison Ivy? Condiment Man?”

Tim looked sheepish as you poured the coffee into the mugs. As much as he could with that mask, anyway. He grabbed a mug and took a long sip, swallowing loudly. Ah, it was a little too hot, but he was trying too much to act cool to let on to the fact he just burned himself. He let out a breath to cool off his tongue, but played it off as a sigh.

“I can’t tell you.”

You sighed deeply, yeah, that’s what you thought he’d say.

Well. As much as you didn’t like the sudden interruption of your new life, you had been wondering when you were going to be pulled into something like this. You knew it was inevitable, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.. Right? People don’t get sent to other dimensions for no reason, right? And besides, now that you’ve settled in, you’ve started to get bored.

"So what’s our game plan?” you asked as you took a sip. Ah, a little too hot.

“Game plan?”

“You know. The part where you’ve got an overly complicated plan to catch this criminal and you need my help as bait,”

He smiled at you, incredulous, “You’d want to be bait?”

“Not. Necessarily. No,” you took another sip to cover up your eagerness, “I just want to help,”

“Helping is my job, Sweetheart,” he took a long sip to look roguish, “you’re a civilian,”

“Yeah but,” you tried not to sound put down by his reluctance to let you into his world, “You— I… I’m interested in not being a civilian, if you know what I mean…”

Tim stared at you, trying to compute what you were asking of him. Feeling silly, you put up your dukes and mimed punching someone to make your point. It was really cute, actually. He grinned at you.

He did not expect.. this. He thought you’d be scared. He thought he could metaphorically take you to a scary movie just so you’d cuddle into him out of fright. He did not think your brain would’ve picked the ‘fight’ option out of ‘fight or flight’. Maybe he underestimated you. Miscalculated his moves. Albeit, this might be way more interesting…

“Train me,” you tried not to sound too desperate.

You held your breath, waiting for his answer.

Tim focused on the coffee, letting what you just said linger in the air. This was a dirt cheap brand of grounds, burnt and acidic. He’d have to get you some real coffee soon.

“Okay.”

You released the air in your lungs with one big huff. Hopefully your breath didn’t smell too bad, as you basically washed his face in it. Even a strand of his bangs fluttered. Real smooth, dumbass. But you quickly forgot that insecurity as your brain caught up with what he said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,”

“No interview or anything? Not that I can’t be trusted, but how would you know I can be trusted?” hey stupid, stop trying to talk him out of this.

“Well I already uh,” he coughed awkwardly, “I already know a lot about you,”

“Ah, yeah, you were stalking me, weren’t you?”

You had no idea what the fuck kinda info he could have considering you don’t really have a background to check in this universe, but okay.

Tim scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah.. Sorry about that. It was all for your safety, I promise,”

You giggled, “Thank you, Mr. Robin, I do feel safe now, knowing it was you,”

“Oh uh,” you could see a blush start peeking out from under his mask, “My pleasure— I mean uh, it’s my duty to you. —As you are a citizen of Gotham, I mean.”

“So when do we star—“

You were cut off by his communicator beeping. He put a hand up to some earpiece he had.

“On it. Be right there,” Tim told someone over the line.

He looked back at you guiltily. You waved your hand in a “it’s fine” gesture.

“Go be a hero Mr. Robin,” you stood to start taking the mugs to the sink.

He held up a finger to ask you for a second as he basically dumped the entire mug into his mouth and gulped it all down. He parted from the mug with a gasp of satisfaction, and you snickered as you finally took it from him.

He stood and brushed himself off while you busied yourself at the sink. You didn’t really worry about whether he was about to disappear into the night like he was never there in the first place. He’d be back. Watching you in the shadows like he had been every night you’d been here...

Did he know you weren’t ‘native’, so to speak? Maybe whatever trouble you’re in now is apart of how you got here in the first place. You’ll have to ask him later…

A hand found its place on your shoulder, and you turned around to him fumbling with his communicator with the other hand. You felt a buzz in your pocket.

“Here’s my number, I’ll text you later, okay?”

You noticed how he didn’t even go through the formality of asking you for your number. Guess we’re a little past pretending this is a normal interaction between two people who want to get to know each other better. You smiled at him as he started making his way to your door.

“Bye Mr. Robin,”

Chuckling at the nickname, he turned back one last time as he held the door, “Bye Y/n,” he grinned at you before making his disappearance back into the shadows of the night.

[theyluvlyss]

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲...

...wishing there was a yellow font color😔...

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

while it's always fun to imagine (haha, get it💀) what it'd be like for him to be your best friend or your boyfriend, there's times when you yearn for that tension. that something in between that's more than a platonic relationship, but just short of being a lover. and I'm here to revive that feeling of what it'd be like for vance hopper to have a crush on you...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!reader x vance hopper - she/her/her pronouns!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

70s-80s - the grabber doesn't exist

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing (lots of it though, it ain't just me this time) - mentions of aggression/violence/fighting (it's vance, y'all, get serious lol) - vance also being kind of a menace as well, ngl💀 - some angsty themes/scenarios - good ending tho, dw lmao.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

Vance even finding somebody attractive just in general sense, no deeper emotions than that, feels like the end of the world to him. Like, on one hand, he knows these feelings are natural, and there's not really shit he can (or will) do about them, but GOD is it torture for him.

He hates the butterflies, the nerves, the stress-sweats, the inescapable urge to look his crush’s way, all of it. It's gross and uncomfortable, and if he could turn off the ability to feel attraction on a whim, he would.

Butttt,,,, at the same time, he is also a teenage boy. There's no way where SOMETIMES he doesn't mind maybe, POSSIBLY having a lil' hallway crush. Getting to check them out when they're not looking or seeing them outside of school; a pleasant surprise.

And I think just that alone could be a potential reason for why and how he'd be crushing on you. One of those things that, kind of like in Robin's case, just sneaks up on him without realization until it's “too late”.

It was obvious and amused scoffs at your outfit choices (because it's not like you or anyone else is gonna say shit about it lmao). It's him - like I said - checking you out when you're not looking and sometimes even shamelessly. It's him suddenly growing more and more ready to see you every day at school, lowkey trying to make sure you see him.

Walking past you a bit slower than his average stride through the halls, purposely tapping his pen against the desk louder than it to just be written off as "habit", other things similar that would leave you not wondering in the slightest because each "move" he makes is more subtle than the last (not on purpose, he just doesn't know what he's doing lmfao💀).

Leave him wondering why it even mattered to him if you did just give him the smallest morsels of your attention … until you did give it, and then he forgot how to think and he was fighting down the heat steadily rising to his cheeks and he just…

He'd get so pissed tf off, I just know it😭💀. Not at anyone in particular, but he's highstrung, okay, we know this😭✋🏽. And he never knew if that factor about himself was a good thing or a bad thing, because while chasing you off meant that these "gross" feelings would subside, it also meant losing the good aspects of all of this, too.

He'd be a little upset to see you look at him - not with curiosity like you had been - but the same way everyone else did. With fear and nerves. Or even not look at him at all, just a head and a set of eyes drooping straight to the floor or the nearest wall or wherever, anywhere to avoid his gaze. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but if you did it, it'd sting a little.

But, regardless of everything I just said, no way in hell is he making any of the first moves. Not because of lack of confidence or anything, but the guy has no clue where he'd even begin to approach someone romantically. You'd just be another faded crush added to the pretty short list of faded crushes.

But, for the sake of these headcannons, let's say you were the one to nonchalantly approach. He'd go through that little routine he has with anyone he wasn't “cool” with, a glare up and down your person that, if didn't send you away on it's own, came right along with a snarky, “The fuck do you want?” leaving his lips.

“You're Vance Hopper, right?”

“Who's asking?”

“I am. I actually have a question for you.” … “How come you play that pinball machine so much?”

“That's none of your fucking buisness, unless you're tryna’ beat me or something.”

“‘Course not, I don't even know how to play. But…you know, it is the only one in town…”

“...And?”

“You should teach me.”

“Why in the hell would I do that? You're out of your mind; move.”

“Like I said, the machine you play on is the only one in town. You're hogging it.”

“The fuck'd'you just say…?”

“And since you're hogging it, you might as well teach me. Not like anyone else can…”

“tch, Please. Fuck off…”

And say, for the sake of these headcannons, you didn't fuck off, and that you showed up a random afternoon to the Grab'n’Go and bothered Vance anyways until he agreed to teach you (just as long as you didn't come close to his high score).

Or anything relating to this could definitely work. Maybe you pestered him about a specific comic you saw him holding. Or maybe where he'd gotten his jean-vest. Or just any one of his interests, really. If you have enough patience and he doesn't completely decide to push you away, he'll find himself reluctantly flattered at the way you persisted in learning more from him.

Let me repeat.

From him.

Wouldn't you know it? It's quite literally that easy. With a little bit of confidence and persistence without getting too pushy and insane amount of luck, you too can have your very own "Pinball" Vance Hopper. Ka-chow😎.

Once again, he won't say that, obviously, but it's true. It's the thing of now he can't help but let the crush get worse now that you've taken such a wanting interest in him. Actually hoping you come up to him in school, or smile when he checks you out without a care in the world, or actually agree when he's asking- well,,, more or less demanding you to go somewhere with him…

“After school, we're heading to the diner; I'm fuckin’ starving…”

“You ate your lunch and mine, what are you talking about😭?”

"Right, which means your ass is probably hungry, too, so we're going.”

And god forbid if he's ever jealous. Fuck his world ending. THE world ends, ain't no saving the person who's causing these riled up emotions within him, not when he's already as temperamental as they come😭💀✋🏽. Hell, it doesn't even have to be a person! As long as your time isn't occupied by him or being with him, he's salty as fuck.

And hey, don't get me wrong. He knows better than to let it bubble over and affect whatever’s going down between you two. He wouldn't want to come off as controlling or toxic. Chase you away, just like the rest. But that doesn't mean he still won't let it be known, especially when it's all over his face.

Brows furrowed and lips pulled down into a frown. More curt than usual, and strangely, there's a lack of curse words rather than the normal “fuck” “shit” or “ass” flying from that motor mouth of his.

But sometimes, he thanks whoever above when it isn't something as trivial as homework or a job or anything else inanimate keeping your focus. When it's something reasonable, like a family member holding up your time, or a close friend, maybe even a teacher…

He thanked the heavens when it was another guy - someone who he was well within rights to scare off, a viable reason to release some of those jealous tendencies under the thin guise of, “The dude was looking at you like goddamn meat, (N/N).” or “Fuck him, the guy’s a shitfaced manwhore looking for his fifth girlfriend…”

To be honest, it's kind of why it's rare that you're ever the jealous one. Or rather, rare that he notices you being jealous. Not that he doesn't pay attention to you, of course that's not the case. But it's also not really something he considers, you being envious, because (and this is, once again, definitely him talking), “What the fuck would she have to be jealous about?”

It's actually kinda nice having him to act as scary dog privileges. And while maybe sometimes he might get a bit too antsy, you're lucky he likes- oh, I'm sorry, in his words, "respects" you enough to cool it whenever you advise him to. Not in a - dramatic, "Stop fighting, look at me, this isn't you🥺" - way (he'd probabaly laugh and actually physically move you out of his way if you ever did some shit like that💀✋🏽), but more in a - mildly vexed, "😒🙄Don't bother with that guy, it's not worth it..." pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing - kind of way (while he might still ignore this sometimes, at least it isn't pure cringe lmao).

And to be fair, he's right in the sense that he's rather loyal, whether either of you realize it or not. Again, it's not like he's purposely going out with the intentions to woo other folks, but from time to time, a girl or two won't shy away from ogling him and even being bold enough to approach (such as you did, but that's neither here nor there so it doesn't count lol😆).

And in these moments, kind of resemblant to Finney, you can't help but be a little taken aback yourself because… Who the fuck is this girl talking to right now? With you standing right there, no less! The disrespect and audacity of these hoes…

“Sorry, he's busy later and doesn't like talking to…*looking up and down* people… But I can take a message.” As if Vance ain't standing right behind you, putting his things away into his locker and pretending not to listen to this entire interaction💀✋🏽.

“Oh, well, maybe you could just give him my number for me? I'm Anne, by the way, so if you could just tell him to cal-”

“-Ooo, aaahhh, see… I would but, like I said; not much of a talker. Plus, he already has mine, so, sorry😬😆…”

And as you're nearly tugging Vance away, he's very alarmed at the sudden cattiness you've displayed seemingly unprovoked.

“...The fuck was that?!”

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing, you were mean as fuck back there…!”

And once he clocks that jealousy in you, omg he doesn't know HOW to feel lmao😭. It's like this odd mixture of annoyance, pride, and adoration is suddenly coursing through him, and all he can do is laugh because “What the hell…”

I feel like, after maybe a few more interactions like this, plus some more close proximity, it wouldn't be long before he started trying to pull away. Not because he dislikes you, quite the contrary. Bro’s just,,, scared, really. He doesn't quite have a grasp on these feelings he has for you, and you don't seem to mind, but you're also not giving him the clearest insight either. Not to mention his past and what he's previously been through…

To sum it up, I think this could lead to the classics we all know and love. He pushes away, you persist and maybe even get a little too forceful for his liking, he snaps, it hurts your feelings or whatever, he (in an attempt to salvage what he's about to lose) angrily confesses, you hit him with the, “You're so stupid, omg🙄😽…” And tell him you've felt the same way all along, ya smooch, the end.

Y'all are now the new power couple in school, and anyone who doesn't like it can suck shit (once again, probably his words🤭💀).

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬😽✨️!!

again, I wish tumblr provided a yellow color font, cuz that's what I would use for him, so unfortunately, I had to just bold his name/dialogue, but oh wellll💛🪩🙃.

next up is bruce !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@in3rci4

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

1,896 words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[kusakiguzen]

Yandere One Piece x Reader

A/N: just fic that i wrote when i was board! Hope you enjoy reading it as much i enjoyed writing it.

Imagine the Straw Hats being annoyed with Cultivator Reader who gets sea sick alot but was also clingy. Almost always in choppers office during storms or when there are big waves. Chewing on Lemon Grass, Cloves or just licking some salt to help with it since you don't want to bother chopper much.

It had gotten worse ever since you entered the new world, The unpredictable weather makes you feel worried that you hold the crew back. The crew on the other hand were very understanding at first but soon they started to get annoyed, even Sanji and Chopper. You felt so bad about it that you always had a clove in your mouth so even if the weather changes it won't affect you that much.

But one day... You over heard them saying how you shouldn't have joined the crew if you get so sea sick since, pirates literally travel through the sea on top of that you never leave anyone alone! Always stay with someone, stuck to them. To sum it up... they didn't want you here....

You immediately ran to the crows nest and cried for a good hour. You had never felt so humiliated in your life!! Your familiars came out to comfort you and you fell asleep on them.

Zoro was asked to fetch you, He went to your room where you'd usually be, but he was met with emptiness. H serched the whole ship annoyed but finally found you in the nest sleeping comfortably. He was kinda annoyed since he was shouting for you but you gave no response, since you were sleeping, its fine.

They were going to get off on the next island to restock on supplies. You joined them but to your horror it looked like you home town.... Your home town was destroyed because Marines deemed it dangerous. So how come this town looks so much alike? You immediately got off and excused yourself, the straw hats thought you felt sick hence went to find a restroom or a secluded area to vomit, But no... You were trying to find a familiar face, any face. Since all cultivators lived in harmony, and it was a small island, you knew almost every one.

You entered the closest weapon shop and to your surprise, found the old man who used to work there, when you were in the village. You called out to him and his eyes widened. He ran and hugged you crying saying how everyone thought you were dead. You started crying saying how you thought everyone was dead, since you went back to the village and it was completely destroyed.

He told you that they escaped by faking all their deaths, so that tragedy won't happen again. You were so glad to find them. The old man ran out the shop to tell everyone you were back and alive. They all started hugging you while crying, saying how glad they were. This commotion was seen by Robin and Brook who were confused as to why these people were coddling you so much.

You told the villagers how you were saved by the Straw hats and you joined their crew. The village called for celebration to thank the Straw hats, who were surprises to find out this was your home.

Then you met him again, your childhood sweet heart, Lóng Fēi. How long had it been? you can't remember. You just ran in his arms, falling in the process. Shoving your head in his shoulder, soft sobs escaping your lips. Fēi Immediately picked you up like a baby and took you to the forest since he knows you hate being seen weak. When in the woods, he plopped you on his lap, holding you close, kissing your tears away. After you calmed down, He picked you up again and you guys went on a walk around the forest, catching up about life. Out of nowhere , Fēi asked if you would mind if he joined the crew with you. You immediately said you don't mind and he should join since Fēi was strong.

Luffy agreed without hesitation, since more the merier right....? Wrong, your atittude towards the crew changed. You no longer cuddle with Zoro while he naps, you no longer sit behind Sanji while he cooks, you no longer stay with Nami and try to read her maps in secrete, you no longer read with Robin, you no longer play or sing with Brook, no longer help Frankie, you stopped going to Chopper to talk about medicine from your home. Finally, You never again asked Luffy to sit with you on the head of the sunny. All the thing you used to do with the Straw hats, Now yo do with Fēi, Everything. it was like you changed into a completely different person.

They Straw hats were relived that you left them alone, but soon realised you weren't paying attention to them at all. They tried asking you to do stuff with them but you politely turned them down saying you don't want to bother them. Your blunt favoritism hurt them. Do you not like them anymore? Is it something they did? (kinda)

Soon they started to lose it, draging you with the to spend time like you used to but Fēi still tagged along. Can't he see?? He is not wanted!!!

If this continued they just might kill Fēi. Or Fēi would kill them. I mean if there was an accident that killed them but you and Fēi survived, no one would be suspicious....... Right?

Well lets see who survives then?

Masterlist

A/N: A small imagine that was on top of my head. I have another one piece fic in my mind which i'll write.

Stay Safe, Healthy And Hydrated

[gotham-daydreams]

i just had a thought

you know what would really fuck up the batfam in the "not tonight" series imagine the reader instead of leaving gets kidnnaped and when the batfam saves them reader breaks down into crying in relief because they genuenly believed the batfam would not bother to save them

Imagine the absolute horror the batman would feel

I know its a little farfetched but i live for the angst

No, no! I love that idea!!! And it isn't all that farfetched seeing as the reader is a well known musician on some level, and even if that wasn't the case- they're still the kid of Bruce Wayne. Which, honestly, is enough motivation for someone to kidnap them, I'd say. Especially if the reasoning is for money, revenge/jealousy, or both honestly.

Besides all that, though- oh my god that would be awful! I love it!

Because imagine things from the reader's perspective (which, there is implied violence inflicted on the reader, mentions a blood, and a gun is pointed towards them. So, if it isn't your cup of tea then that's fine!):

Your 'family' that barely acknowledges you enough as it is, and the only guy who ever seems to notice that you're around is the single butler that basically takes care of everyone and everything in the manor. Now, you're kidnapped because of your relation/connection to the family, and have no hope to do anything besides just pray.

Maybe you have tried to escape before a few times at this point, but the punishment for such attempts have now gotten to the point where if you try again and fail, you'd surely die. Maybe you've also been trying so hard to escape yourself because you're just that certain and sure that the Batfam won't save you. Since, up until this point, anything dealing with or connecting back to you in some way has been ignored or dismissed one way or another. Why would something like a kidnapping be any different? Especially when they also haven't noticed other events where you have gotten hurt before.

Right from the gate, you're already thinking that the Batfam won't save you. Not that they can't, but just like with everything else- something will come up and steal away their attention, and you'll be left by yourself, and to defend yourself as always. That's what always seems to happen, and so why would now be different? In your mind, it wouldn't. So that's why when your attempts to escape fail, and the punishments not only get worse, but begin to pile up and reach a point where you think you're going to die- the situation quickly becomes much scarier.

You don't hope that Batman will suddenly show up, and instead pray that your best friend will notice your missing somehow. You don't think that Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler, or Orphan will suddenly swoop in and save the day, but instead try and hope that your producer/boss notices that you haven't replied to his calls or texts and contacts someone. You don't even consider that Red Hood or Robin will come barreling in and quickly deal with your kidnappers before rescuing you — instead all of your thoughts are filled with silent whispers and desperate pleas that someone- anyone you know will notice that you're gone, or that something is wrong, and will contact somebody. With that 'somebody' being the police or anyone of help, but not the Batfam.

Maybe a small thought does slip by, but you can only internally laugh at yourself because you either think that you've already lost enough blood to actually try and believe that lie, or your just growing that desperate to have a little hope. To have something to cling onto in this moment, that you chose the one thing that you're so convinced will never be given to you. A thought that only further cements itself in your mind the more time passes. With hours turning into days, and days to weeks.

Perhaps that's why you try to escape again. Deciding that you had better odds of succeeding despite your injuries, than the Batfam ever coming to save you. Let alone even thinking about it, or even realizing that you were gone in the first place. Taking that risk of getting caught again, and potentially getting killed this time, because no matter how hopeless or unlikely it seems for you to escape and make it out- those chances will always be higher than any single person from the Batfam showing up, and even attempting to save you. Even on accident, or on a whim- that possibility is so unlikely in your mind, that it's basically nothing more than a made up scenario or daydream to you. It's not an 'if' or 'when', but a flat out 'won't'.

Maybe that's why when you fail you get so scared, but can't help but feel like this was inevitable somehow. Of course, you don't want to die- but you had tried your best. You fought until the very end, and it almost feels a little too fitting that things ended up this way. With your efforts ending in vain, and you having nothing to show for it. With your attempts futile, and almost seeming idiotic from an outsider's point of view, and maybe it was.

You never stood a chance. You were doomed for failure. Not even all the training and experience you had could save you- and only now could you see how truly worthless all your efforts had been. With a gun pointed to your head, and your own blood providing the only warmth you've felt in days.

There's an odd sense of comfort and familiarity in the chill that shoots down your spine, and the cold gaze that one of your kidnappers give you. They're carelessness and disregard for your health reminding you of something, with their rough attacks and harsh punches bringing back times where you really did need the Batfam, only for no one to show up. Your call dying down as fast as it had risen that day, and one you never even bothered to make again.

So maybe that was why you were so surprised when help arrived, and even more so when you saw who exactly it was.

Before you could even fully register anything, you began to cry. A wide smile full of disbelief grows on your face, and more tears begin to fall as the smallest of laughs escape you. 'Unbelievable' is the first word that comes to mind when describing what you felt, and thought when you saw Batman drop down from the ceiling and deal with the guy who was about to kill you, and heard some commotion just down the hall.

At first, your convinced it's all some silly dream, and that maybe during your final moments- your mind decided to give you something nice to send you off. Almost like a warm parting gift to distract you from the hopelessness, and reality of the situation. Though it's only when pain shoots through your entire body when you move a certain way, that the thought of all of this being some made up hallucination or delusion vanishes, and you can't help but cry harder.

You don't know if it's a good or bad thing that after all this time- the one time they actually notice that you're gone, is when you not only get kidnapped, but can't escape by yourself. That the one time they acknowledge you, you're almost dead, bleeding out, and the most messy and vulnerable you've ever been.

Maybe life really did have some grudge against you to go to such lengths to fuck you over, but right now you're too relieved to be saved to care at the moment.

Yet, to say the Batfam feels awful on a totally new level, is an understatement. They understand feeling relieved, but to this extent? It's like you never expected them to come and save you at all... and that little thought seems to be true when one of them tries to help you out, and you're still laughing weakly as you continue to cry. Asking through a broken, wavering voice if all of this is real, and isn't some fucked up hallucination your having to make passing on easier. That they really showed up, and as a last ditch effort to not make your death anymore painful then it has to be- this isn't just some... dream, to make you feel like you were actually cared for in your final moments.

It breaks their hearts, a lot.

Especially when you repeat questions, as if trying to really make sure that they're there, that they're real, and aren't just some figment of your imagination. That they actually came to save you, and weren't off saving Gotham or the world itself instead. Constantly trying to be sure, as if the moment you weren't- then you'd be convinced that you were slowly dying all alone, with no hope of help coming — not even thinking that the Batfam would come — and just have to sit with that fact as you take your final breaths.

The pain you feel is almost equal to their's, and what really worries and scares most of them is how sure and certain you are that they wouldn't show up. That either the thought would never cross their minds, or that something else would come up and they'd leave you for dead, or that they just wouldn't notice that you were kidnapped at all.

Which, said fright and worry is only amplified when you have to keep asking "Are you really here? Are you sure?" And the like, and they have to keep finding ways to prove to you that yes, they are here. They're helping you, and they're not leaving- they actually managed to save you, and that you're going be okay now. That they aren't going away, and are very, very real.

Each little, broken laugh chips away at the pieces of their hearts, and your own disbelief that they can't seem to get rid of no matter what they do or say, is just a punch to the gut. You didn't just think that they wouldn't show up, but were fully convinced that they wouldn't even bother with it. That own realization just... hurts more than anything.

Had they really been that awful to you? Had they really caused you so much pain and hurt that you'd not only think of such a thing, but fully believe it? They didn't remember doing anything in particular that would cause you to think that way... but maybe that wasn't the problem. It wasn't what they did to you, but rather what they didn't do, and that's when the pieces finally begin to click.

Of course some don't want to believe it, similar to how some of them in "Not Here" express a brief moment of denial and disbelief themself, but they don't get to experience such a luxury anymore. Not with you here- bleeding, hurt, and crying from both relief and disbelief, because you couldn't believe that they actually showed up.

Even when they do quickly take you to a hospital and get you treated, that image of you is still ingrained into their minds. They can't forget it- how you looked at them and spoke, and just how you treated the whole situation because of how convinced you were.

From here they'll try to rebuild what they can, and all definitely be 100% more protective then they've ever been. The moment you're able to come home (which, you ARE coming home. No if's or but's. You don't get a chance this time.), they're doing everything in their power to not only 'fix' everything, but make sure that you are safe at all possible moments of the day.

It's safe to say that the whole experience traumatized the whole family to a certain degree. Not only with you being kidnapped- but you trying to escape multiple times and almost dying, because you were so convinced that no one would show up to help. (Which, while it was also because you can genuinely handle yourself and did believe you could escape on your own, the Batfam doesn't entirely believe that (and you almost dying doesn't help with that) so they chalk it up to you being desperate, because you 'knew' that no one was coming to save you. Which also may or may not make certain people worse in the process.) So they're already leaning pretty heavy on the yandere tendencies. Which most likely develop over the time you're in the hospital, and into your first week or so staying in the Manor.

Which does lead us to your little addition:

Which, you are very correct!!!

Our boy Jason, put in very simple terms, doesn't take the situation well. At all.

Seeing you bloodied, bruised, abused, malnourished, and on the brink of death no less- definitely doesn't help with his reaction at all.

Don't get me wrong! All of them react pretty negatively to the situation, and many of them have very strong reactions- Jason in particular just has the worst and strongest one. :]

The moment he sees you, he's immediately reminded of his death. The urge to comfort you is strong, but he just doesn't know what to do- and so he ends up not doing anything until you're in the hospital. Which, leading up to that point, he's checking your pulse as often as he can.

He knows what it's like to be hopeless, and feel that helpless- but to know that you experienced that? To know that you almost died like he did? It ruins him. It fucks him up more than anything else.

From the way you looked at the Batfam- the way you looked at him, and just how utterly relieved you were, despite drowning in your own disbelief- it haunts him. The state they found you in messed him up enough, but all of your questions, and just how you were even trying to reassure yourself that them showing up and saving you was real, fucked him up big time.

Before he knows it, he's hunting down the people who kidnapped you, and wiping out whatever is left of their bloodlines. Not sparing a single person, as they didn't spare you- with their generations leading to your kidnappers being born.

He's making their final moments just as painful as yours would've been. Their agony almost matching his, as he couldn't forget the night they saved you. He refused to. That moment forever engraved into his mind, reminding him of what also was if they were a second too late, and how it made him realize just how much he's fucked up along with everyone else.

While Jason can't exactly just waltz into the Hospital to visit you, since he is still considered dead and everything, he sneaks into your room instead. Trying to give what comfort he can in his own silent, but close way. Holding your hand with a gentleness even foreign to himself, and saying how he's sorry and that he'll make it up to you. Promising every night that he'll make those that made you suffer pay with their lives, and then some. Saying how he won't leave your side ever again, only to be gone by the morning.

He brings what he can as well. Even if it isn't as showy or extravagant as any of the things that Bruce, Damian, Dick and so on are getting you, or as pretty and lively as the flowers that are placed by your bedside. It's just his own little way of trying to make it up to you.

The small, little gifts he gives you are indeed little, and he doesn't give much since he doesn't think that your forgiveness or love can be bought. But he still tries to give something. So he'll give things that can be as little as hair ties or bracelets, to earrings (that totally aren't matching) and a little music box that reminded him of the melodies you've made thus far. It's all just another way of saying that he cares about you, and not only wants to build your relationship but be connected to you somehow.

The earrings, even if you don't wear them but just have them, make him feel closer to you then he can. He hopes that in some little way, that whenever you wind and let that music box play its tune, that you are reminded of him or think of him in some way. That when you wear or even look at the few ties and bracelets he's given you, he comes to mind in some small way, and manages to bring the smallest of smiles on your face.

Jason doesn't yearn to be remembered or seen fondly, but he would like to and deeply appreciate it. Since when he looks at his earnings, he's reminded of you, and the pair he managed to give you. Leaving him unable to fight back the smile that grows on his face.

For the most part, he just generally tries to be more present, hardly leaving you alone unless he has to, and spending every moment he can by your side. Moments that begin to last longer once he finishes his buisness with your kidnappers, and their families. He doesn't push too hard or is super in your face and constantly invading your personal space. He just exists in your presence, and as long as you're around he's got no complaints.

Though he does get extremely protective and possessive. Especially if your sleeping or something, and someone walks in. God have mercy if they need to wake you up, and dare to try without saying anything to Jason first.

Which- all of this boils down to you getting scary dog privileges every night, which turns into an almost 24/7 type of deal when you get discharged from the hospital.

---

Sorry if this is a little all over the place. I wrote it all in one go for the most part and haven't really looked it over, so there's probably some mistakes I didn't catch and missed 😅

Still, I hope that's alright, and as you can see- i really enjoy this idea :]

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Angst, unrequited crush, sweet friendship with Robin and Steve. This is angst with a little bit of fluff, my blog is 18+ so mdni.

There's definitely room for a part two so if you'd like that then let me know 🫶❤️

🎀💌✨

Okay, so imagine that you have the biggest crush on Eddie, it's gotten to the point where your heart skips a beat every time he looks at you, you can go from being talkative and a little hyper around your friends, to usually shy and quiet around Eddie.

It's majorly embarrassing, but you comfort yourself with the fact that Eddie probably doesn't even know who you are. You're not in any groups like the cheer group or band, and there's no way that you would even attempt to get into sports.

Yeah, he's caught you staring at him once or twice which was mortifying but you can deal with that, plus his friends are nice and funny and don't make you feel like an idiot for not knowing much about D&D.

As you head to your locker, Eddie and Gareth are deep in conversation with each other. You feel warmness pool in your cheeks as Gareth mentions your name. You've made some posters for Hellfire that Gareth asked you about.

In all honesty you're hoping it might lead to a conversation with Eddie that lasts longer than a few minutes.

Or one that you can approach with confidence, enrapture him with your witty repertoire. Hey, a girl can dream right?

Quickly you fix your hair and fuss around with your clothes as you approach the two of them, trying to figure a way to begin a conversation.

Just say hey you doofus, you chastise yourself. Gareth mentions you again, intrigued you move closer to see what he's saying.

"Eddie, come on man, she has a total crush on you, how could you not notice that?" Eddie frowns, you wait with baited breath for his answer.

"Dude, she's not really my type. I'm kinda hoping Megan will notice me if I'm being honest" Gareth catches your eye, notices you near the locker as yours is only a few doors down from Eddie.

Oh right, of course. Megan. She was into the same bands as Eddie and actually knew how to play d&d. A total badass, cool girl. Of course Eddie would like her.

Gareth's sympathetic gaze meets yours and you want to run away from it and hide. Get far far away from that look. Crushed by Eddie's quick rejection you hurry away from your locker and slam it shut.

You dash the posters away in your bag, brush away the tears that are threatening to build and vow never to get your hopes up about your crush on Eddie ever again.

Eddie looks up, briefly catches a glimpse of you rushing down the corridor. A strange, anxious knot settles in his belly and he doesn't know why, it's like a weird sense of foreboding.

Whatever it is he doesn't like the feeling one bit.

...

Your friends try to cheer you up, unrequited crushes suck so you know it will take a while to get over your feelings for Eddie.

The one thing that does help is your buddimg closeness with Robin and Steve that comes from picking up a few shifts at Family Video.

You love the easy banter between them, feel immediately safe and included when you're around them. You can just be yourself and it's a wonderful feeling.

There's no tying yourself up in knots trying to think of the right thing to say (like you do with Eddie) try to make yourself cooler than you actually are.

It's not like it mattered anyway, Eddie barely noticed you existed, or at least that's what you assumed.

You find hanging out with Steve to be really cool, he's sweet and nothing like the King Steve from back in the day. He picks you and Robin up from school, very quickly the three of you become close friends.

It's nice to have them to focus on and not your crush on Eddie being unreciprocated.

Except you don't realise that Eddie has noticed that you're not around much, you don't really go out of your way to run into him or anything like that.

You still speak to Gareth or Dustin and Jeff but you don't get all shy when Eddie joins in. It's like you don't notice Eddie at all.

He stopped noticing Megan and started noticing you for the first time, your absence leaves an empty space in him that he can't explain.

He sees you with Steve and Robin after school and there's a deep unsettled feeling inside of him, one that whispers to him that maybe you had a crush on Steve. What chick wouldn't?

He doesn't like how that makes him feel, he's moody and can't explain why it's bothering him so badly. He misses your sweet observations, your wit and your kindness to his sheeples.

In all honesty he just misses you. And that's something he never expected to happen.

🫶

If you have any requests then send them in, my request rules are in my pinned post, I'm really into enemies to lovers, older Eddie fics right now, so if you have any fic requests then let me know 🫶💌

[citrinae]

of grapevines and godly betting.

sanji x reader

summary; you love to hate sanji. a twisted part in him loves it when you do. so you propose a deal around it, and he’s thrilled to follow through and see where it will take you.

contents; explicit content, sanji acting like himself, cunnilingus, piv, creampie, slight degradation, asphyxiation if you squint, drinking, mythology & religious imagery, afab!reader with mentions of using lipstick, wc: 4.8k, mdni. this fiend wound up longer than it should so consider this a fair warning.

masterlist

i.

Chairs creaking, uncomfortable clutter of plates. Your leg pounds restlessly under the dinner table. Slightly above the surface, you bring the teaspoon to your mouth, let a raspberry slide down your throat in a self-conscious gulp. Robin compliments the food. And while usually this is music to Sanji’s ears, now he just lets the words go through him, drowning a hurried ‘thank you, lovely’ into the wine he sips on too loudly to go unnoticed. His other hand starts searching through his pockets; he really needs a smoke. Robin’s gaze lands in your direction, and her smile—soft and curious—is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Because she knows.

No matter how well you can carry yourself, Robin will always recognise a buried thought when there is one. But she stays silent, unbothered. Your lungs ease off. Then she asks Nami to pass her a napkin, and there’s the hissing of a lighter you can hear from Sanji’s side. Chasing relief, he shots an exhale towards the ceiling. 

This started a couple of days ago, when, one day after dinner, you told Sanji you'd be up to giving him a treat of your own. Under the condition that he contained his nosebleed for two weeks. Breathless he nodded, loosening the knot of his tie because he knew you weren’t going to make it easy for him. Even then, watching your mouth wrap the words in silk, and the light glinting off your eyes like a knife pointed at his throat, cold and sharp and deadly, Sanji was helpless before your charms, a molten mass of clay for you to tear apart and mould anew. 

And so you did. With shorts that were shorter than he remembered and tops revealing a little more skin than you got him used to. In the mornings you would glide down the stairs to the kitchen in your most expensive robe, while some nights you would stain the mouth of your bottle with your reddest lipstick and offer him a sip—which at first he would hesitate to accept, swallowing his breath, but eventually bring to his own lips with shaky hands. And at lunch, you could notice the slight tremble of his bottom lip as you licked your teaspoon maybe longer than necessary. There was no touching there, not that you needed to go through much trouble to spark anything inside him—something Sanji also grew aware of, you’d figure, watching him go to and fro Chopper’s bay with alarming frequency. 

“It’s chronic, right,” you crooned one time as soon as you caught him turning the door handle. “The thing that you have.” He pushed back in, words leaving in incoherent streams when he did. 

“You’re a sick man.”

But you’d lie if you said the gamble wasn’t starting to take its toll on you either. Fun as it was to toy with Sanji’s weakness for all things good-looking, soon enough his cologne felt stronger, the rustle of his shirt as he moved sounded louder, and you had a harder time applying lipstick to your lips without imagining it all smudged around his collar. Luckily to your growing impatience, Sanji is also a persistent man, a resilient man, and held on to your deal to the very end of it. He could go through hell and worse for a chance with you—and he’s done it, much to your surprise, crossed a level without falling victim to any of his own shameful reflexes. 

And now, two weeks after you launched your arrangement, you can’t tell if it’s excitement or reluctance climbing up your throat as you count the buttons lining Sanji’s dress shirt. He’s not wearing a tie today, you realise, maybe for the same reasons you decided not to wear a bra, collarbone cutting out tantalisingly from the shirt and pulsing with each drag he takes on his cigarette. Then your eyes reach to follow the contours of his neck, and stay there. 

Sanji doesn’t have it in him to look at you, but he burns under your stare. It’s all drawn on his face with a soft tinge of pink crossing his face as your lips part and wet each other in the lack of something to press themselves against. Once aware of the power you're having over him, you can feel your mouth hiking a little higher. But it’s impossible not to wonder. 

Why Sanji, of all people? 

Is it because he makes you feel better about yourself? Because he entertains you? Because you wanted some sort of payback for the way he acts around women?

Robin is the first to call off for the evening. She bids you farewell in the sweetest tone you’ve ever heard, thanking for the food once more before turning on her heels. Franky follows suit, and soon enough the rest of the crew, spilling the deck with their voices and footsteps, until you look up and there’s no one else dwelling in the dim light but you and Sanji and the awkward chime of his rings against glass. During this time he’d be already hunched over the sink, taking care of the dishes, rearranging spices. 

“Can I help you with anything else, sweetheart?” he says instead, propping his chin into a palm. He’s had a little—not so much as to embarrass himself but enough to gather a nerve or two. His smile is loose and his eyes seem half-lost in a foreign universe. There is a napkin folded at the foot of his glass; he wouldn’t admit it if asked out loud, but something tells you he’s been periodically using it to check for any red coming from his nose. 

Still unsure whether what you lack right now is simply Sanji or the free entertainment that comes with his presence, you lean into your seat, pointing at the glass lingering empty and unloved by your plate. “Care for a refill?”

Sanji is fast to oblige, just as you expected him to. What you wouldn’t have it coming, however, is the small laugh vibrating in his throat as he stands up, deft fingers reaching for the bottle and pouring you another glass, courtly and deliberate like in the days he played waiter at the Baratie. You can’t help but notice the air becoming heavier as soon as he’s gotten closer to you—all citrus and pepper and nicotine, sending a blissful shiver to the space between your legs. 

He takes the opportunity to fill up his own glass. However he doesn’t return to his seat, opting to drag out the chair next to yours for intimacy’s sake.

“I did some asking around, and this is one of the finest picks around these seas,” he says, elbows flat across the backrest. 

“Oh,” your knee runs a faint touch onto his leg—he flinches; you haven’t touched him in two weeks. “Any special occasion you're celebrating today?”

“Angel,” the glass stops an inch from his mouth. “I hope you’re aware that every minute I get to spend in your proximity is a celebration in itself.”

Laughter follows, short and fragrant. “You’re so full of crap.”

“You think I’m lying?” he says, raising a brow. 

You take a full sip of your wine. “I think you’re too purpley for your own good.” 

“Maybe,” he admits. “And then again I’m a guy who likes to speak his mind.”

“How has it worked for you so far?”

“You tell me.” 

Sanji takes a second to stare down at the cigarette between his fingers, inflamed paper eating itself out, slowly. The corner of his mouth pushes into something close to a smirk and your stomach tightens as soon as it does. Light from the wall lamps spreads gracefully across his back and hair, making him look to you like something unearthly, but quiet, making you think of names of tragedy and myth, resting their cheek deep in the Sun’s lap. 

The truth is, when one’s mouth speaks reverence as often as his does, it gets hard to tell what may be going on inside their head. But there is something about the way he sits now, poised and pliant and shamelessly hopeful, suggesting this is something you shouldn’t really care about.

“Can’t lie, you pretty much intrigue me, Sanii,” you lean towards him, taking in his scent. “That or maybe I’m still around because I wanted a glass.”

There’s something lingering on the tip of his tongue, like sugar melting on a strawberry, catching colour. Yet he makes sure to swallow the thought before letting it out in any form. 

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm.”

The closer you are to him the harder he finds it to breathe. A strand of hair brushing the side of his nose, his eyes take their time to look into yours, and then slowly descend to the place your mouth is. His lips tremble in the absence of something to say to you. He sets the wine back on the table, and it’s mechanical, dulled. 

“Right, right,” your voice fills the room. “And I asked something of you, a couple days ago. Silly me.” 

Heat spreads to his cheeks. 

“Ah,” he says. “You did.”

Your smile feels then like a wretched attempt at innocence. “Can you remind me what it was again, Sanji? My humble request for you.”

He blinks; once, twice, before the question takes full shape inside his head. 

His words are frail, “You asked If I could be good and patient for a while.”

“And you were?” your mouths find themselves at a finger’s length from each other. “Good and patient?”

“Yeah,” he gulps for air. 

The kiss is slow and wet and you can’t help but feel yourself melt into it; in the warmth coming from the soft press of his mouth and the care with which his fingers dig into the skin of your waist, pulling you close, closer, until you’re all climbed into Sanji’s lap. He tastes like wine and cigarettes. 

“I missed you,” his breath is hot against your lips. “Fuck, angel, I missed you.” He then kisses you at the corner of your lips, and across your jaw, making sure he remembers each line and curve composing your anatomy. 

You lean your head back, exposing more skin for him to reach. “Wasn’t that far away to begin with,” you tell him through a chuckle.

When he speaks, too preoccupied to settle himself at the space between your neck and shoulder, it’s with a low vibrato that pauses the world for a couple of beats. “You were. You’re no oil on canvas, dear,” setting a kiss on your neck. “You were made to be revered, not admired,” thumb making idle circles on your shoulder. 

Instinctively your eyes roll heavenwards. You’ve heard this before; and you’re aware there is nothing necessarily distinctive about you—just happened to land aboard this floating circus and accept advances from the most hospitable person you found. Pushing your tongue across your teeth, you find yourself somewhere between enraged and flattered as you reach for the hem of your shirt. 

This time, there's one thing you're sure of. 

You want Sanji wet and silly for your attention. You want to feel furious enough to make him look like that. 

“Good thing tonight’s reward includes more than just that,” you say. 

Your shirt touches the floor; he gasps. 

“Can—” Sanji’s voice breaks at the exhale. “Can I?” He looks up at you gingerly, and his hand is slightly trembling. 

This is not something you’d easily admit, but seeing him like this—hair dishevelled, mouth half-opened, pupils blown out and circled by a thin thread of blue—sends a dizzying shot of serotonin to your head. 

Your fingers push themselves through his hair, assuringly, “Knock yourself out, kitten.”

At first it’s light, with the back of his hand. His rings are cold against your skin as he touches you. Then the grip becomes fuller as he gains the courage, softly rubbing your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, and you can’t help the sound leaving you as he does. He looks drunk, with his cheeks taking to a decadent flush and his eyes distracted. You almost envy Sanji for his patience as you feel the bulge in his pants throbbing deliriously under you. 

“So beautiful,” Sanji hums before letting his mouth collapse to your chest. “Just heavenly, and all for me.” A second later he's brushing his mouth against your sternum, thumb pushing into your waist, runs his tongue over a nipple and begins to suck. There’s a vicious tendency to flat your fingers across the back of his head and pull closer, to suffocate, until his cries and whimpers would stir you from inside out. Sanji would take the pain if that meant replacing the air with the sound of your name, and you’d be fast to help him without giving it away that he makes you feel equally feeble. You scrape your nails down his nape, and you’re soon rewarded a wretched sound as you do just that. 

Sanji rolls his bottom lip past your nipple, “Let’s take this somewhere else.” His eyes linger between pleading and decisive as he looks at you.

You probe around the room, wingspan dropping to the light peeking through the bottom of the kitchen door. Right, your pulse quickens. Reclusive as it may seem, it’s the kitchen you find yourself in, half-naked and shamelessly grinding yourself over Sanji’s clothed cock. Anyone can just as well come in and catch you like this. Sanji’s mouth coils to the side like he’s been reading the thought from your face. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m not sharing the view with anyone.”

Sanji continues to keep you pressed against his chest as he gets up, and without hesitation, he grabs you by the hips, lifting you off the floor until your legs can’t do much of anything but wrap themselves around his waist. As you hover over counters and past the fridge, he occasionally leaves sloppy kisses on your shoulder, on your neck, your collarbone. They become even messier as he locks the door to the pantry and deliberately places you atop some crates of whatever Sanji stores to keep the crew fed. Taking a moment to have another look at you, he drops to his knees, a sudden, pathetic sound, and you smile because it’s pretty clear what’s coming next. 

“Is this it?” you prop a leg onto his shoulder, bringing him closer to the inside of your thigh. “Is this the nasty little fantasy you’ve been getting your dick wet on these days?”

He sighs into the fabric of your pants. Yes, he tries to say. You help him unbutton your pants, with a hint of lingerie peeking out now, damp and inviting, making Sanji forget how breathing works for a minute. 

It’s intoxicating. Letting him get this close to you is intoxicating. 

Pulling your pants off one leg, “I think about you, every so often.”

He can’t lie, not to you. 

The way you look at him feels like waiting to hear the punchline to a really bad joke. “Like you think of anyone with a slit in their pants.”

“This is—” he takes a moment. “Absolutely not true, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok. I won’t get mad,” a lie. “We’re put on this earth to drink and dance and love, isn’t that right, lover-boy?”

For someone whose most undertakings come from a place of discipline—schedules and lists and spotless counters, a cook but not a glutton, a composer but hardly a dancer—the words scatter into his face like less truth and more of an invitation. Even around women, caught in a hopeless chase for catharsis, he’s tied to rules and principles too tight for anyone but him and the geezers he grew up with at the Baratie to understand. For Sanji is a distasteful dichotomy between incarnating an Apollo in his own right and enslaving himself to his Muses.

Rosy-cheeked and hesitant, a delightful fog set in his eyes.

He nods nevertheless. 

“Now,” and you grip him by the collar, a little meaner than intended. “Eat this pussy like you missed it.”

The smile he gives you hearing this is genuine, sweet. “I thought you wouldn’t ask.” Without hesitation he pushes two fingers into the plush of your panties, wet sounds shooting blissfully from underneath, and leans forward. It’s with his teeth that he pulls your panties to the side, but he’s gentle as he does it, careful not to bruise any of the skin he reveres just so. Sanji praises you then with a kiss, full and open-mouthed, hardly containing the mournful moans leaving him at the touch. They are hot against your folds, falling in perfect sync with the movement of his tongue and lips, and you’re fast to reward Sanji with a mewl of your own—in a voice you didn’t know you had but you can now hear filling the room, fogging your thoughts and numbing your chest. He’s good at this. You aren’t sure if the skill is something that came with practice, talent, or both, not that it matters. But to say a selfish part in you doesn’t want to keep him all to yourself would be a lie. 

When he pulls away, his beard is coated in your slick. “Dear goodness,” he says, breath coming out slow, “You’re sweet. More of this and you might get someone addicted.”

“Watch out,” you say, smoothing your leg down his back. “Too much sugar isn’t good for your health.”

“That’s what they say about smoking, and here I am.” Laughter stays buried somewhere in his throat. He gives your slit another kiss, and another, caressing your thigh with his thumb. “But I must admit, I wouldn’t give up on something as savoury, even if it killed me.”

“I wouldn’t give up on you.”

As if, freak. 

Cheeks heated, you push Sanji deeper between your legs, somewhat hoping he’d drown along with the words, and he whimpers in response. It doesn’t come much as a surprise when you notice he sometimes reaches down to palm himself as he eats you out, needy with his knees pressed into wood and face flooded with slick, unbuckled belt beating a tattoo into the wood you’re seated on. 

“Fucking whore,” you dig your nails into his nape. “Mouth full of cunt and still looking like you’re about to die of thirst.”

Delirious at the sound of your voice, he continues lapping at your pussy, tongue flat across the spots that render you messier. Sanji likes it when you become just as loud as him, even closer to losing sanity when you pull his hair and call out for him, honey dripping off his name in ecstatic neediness. Seconds later he pushes two fingers in, and you yelp at the fullness, soon yearning for more, and more, whatever it takes to maintain the maddening sensation building up in your stomach.

“S-Sanji, I—” you hear yourself saying. “I’m close.”

“Oh, merde,” he manages, punched out and weak. “Mon sucre d’orge, that’s it, let yourself go for me.”

When you come, you feel like your voice doesn’t belong to you, breaking itself on a vowel, and it takes Sanji all the resolve he could gather not to lose himself at the same time. A beat later your focus—dazed and blurry from tears—collapses from the lightbulb bending from the ceiling to the blond of his hair. His chin is damp as you take it between your thumb and forefinger, tilting his face to meet you. 

“What do we say?” 

You try to dismiss the impulse to kiss yourself away from his lips and chin. 

Sanji closes his eyes, runs his tongue across his lips. “Thank you for the meal, dearest.”

“That’s a good man,” pushing the hair off his face. “How about we switch places?”

“I think I’d love that,” he says.

Matter-of-factly, “Of course you would.”

So you stand up, still feather-light with the memory of Sanji’s mouth on your slit, and the crates clatter when you push him in their direction. He pretends not to be distraught by the sound of something breaking under his weight. All bad thoughts seem ignored and forgotten nevertheless as your arms lock around his neck, and your bare chest starts rubbing itself against his. You’re a riot, Sanji. Breath catching in his lungs, Sanji is thankful when you further unbutton his pants, run a cold finger across his cock, hot and dripping at the tip. You both know this won’t take long. Something warm and intimate kindles the blue in his eyes, like fire reflecting off the waves of the sea, and despite yourself your thoughts are taken away to the likelihood of an after. Always fun to play with. 

“Gods,” he says, breathless, and your heart skips a few more beats as you feel his thumb brushing off your bottom lip. “I know I’ve been making this point all night, but you should really see yourself right now.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you try to adjust yourself on his cock. He’s bigger than you thought, and you attempt to distract the thought by running your fingertips over the faint traces of blonde hair lining his belly, by clinging on to the encouragement you’ve found in his stare. He’s patient with you, taking some time of his own to memorise your body down to the finest detail. 

“Ngh—” you huff. “Would you build me an altar, Sanji? Nice and clean so you can fuck me on it as much as I please.”

“Yeah, I would,” he leaves a kiss behind your ear. “I could build you a whole temple, darling. Grow a dainty little grapevine by the columns and feed you all the stuff you like. Each day, I’d take care of my grapevine, and at night, I’d watch you dance and drink under the stars.”

A smile, sincere. “Sounds lovely.”

“Only because you're there, angel,” he says. 

You can’t really tell when you’ve started moving, as if your body has been functioning on its own. But as your hips swing back and forth, gradually finding their own rhythm, you feel yourself falling into a desire to touch. Anything, anywhere, from the unevenly heaving chest beneath his shirt to the fullness of his lips, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, sour with cologne and sweat. You’re not sure when it’s been the last time you felt this way; barely in control. A long time, maybe never. 

It’s primal, what he unlocks in you, all teeth and restless movement, and Sanji hovers between thrashed and captivated as he sits with a hand coiled around your waist and another buried into your nape. Sometimes he jerks up into you in a devoted attempt to offer momentum. Other times, he spills syrup into your ears as he tells you how good you are to him. What has he done to deserve such heavenly treatment? Would he be ever able to repay you for this? Jars clatter under your bodies as they curl and bend against each other at a steady pace. Nose climbing up Sanji’s neck, your tongue circles around a spot your teeth have sunk themselves in too deep. A moan escapes him not long after. 

It’s melodic, and it makes you dizzy. “See what happens if you play nice for a change?” you say. “Ah, people will want to praise you for it.”

To this he can only nod, a hand feeling now across your chest. 

“And you’re taking your reward so well, Sanji,” arms thrown around his neck. “Always so devoted, loving me so good.”

“Fuck,” Sanji’s mouth drops to your jaw. “Please never leave my side,” he breathes between his teeth.

Met with the words, a sinking feeling creeps somewhere in your stomach, but you’re too light-headed to care. Rocking him back and forth, chasing a second peak, you cannot think of much right now other than how good Sanji looks with his shirt messed up, chest hair sprouting out the fabric you managed to unbutton, and how good it feels when he fills you up with his cock. 

The moment he takes to French—a waterfall of words, half-words, tripping onto each other—you’re pretty sure he’s about to come too. But as out of it as he may seem, Sanji still surfaces with a stamp preference for your pleasure over his own. 

“You there, dear?” Something vile in his voice hopes that you are. 

“Yeah,” you assure him. “Almost there.”

He still comes first, cock twitching between your folds, and it’s loud, sinful. A couple more ins and outs through his orgasm and you follow, bliss wetting your cheeks and blurring your vision. 

It’s eerie, really, to feel yourself grow numb at the chest of that one man you think needs to be taught a lesson. Yet you’ve never held someone as tightly as you hold Sanji now, breaths ragged, skins scorched. His release drips off your thigh, lukewarm and damp. He starts caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. There’s warmth in his eyes, and you cannot help but lean into the touch. 

“That felt—” a second of thought. “You were incredible.”

Your eyes remain on the marks blooming on his neck. “You will need to start wearing scarfs for a while.”

“Don’t worry about me, mon coeur,” he says. “What I need to do right now is help you clean yourself up.”

So he gently pulls you from his lap, careful not to louse you up any further. As one might expect from someone who thrives on organised chaos, Sanji is all efficiency as he zips his pants and picks up your own. Amusement pulls the corners of your lips a little higher watching him furtively check the crates and jars and cans you’ve jeopardised just seconds ago. 

“You stay right there,” Sanji’s voice is less feeble and more assertive as he puts on his belt. “I’ll fetch you everything you need from the kitchen. Will be back in two.”

ii.

Moonlight delicately reflects off the waves swirling in your glass, like a sea of blood caught inside a crystal ball. A sip or two later you set the wine back down on the floor, and it lets out a light tap when you do. The railing of the ship is cold against your back. 

“I saw Franky handing Robin a pretty fat buck,” you tell Sanji, arms resting on your knees. He’s loose as he sits next to you, smoke curling up from his cigarette, the bottle of wine you opened just the night before lingering between your forms. “This morning after breakfast.”

Out of the corner of his eye, “Do you think they?”

“They most certainly did,” you say. 

A pause.

Sanji kisses the rim of his own fill, a smirk bending to the side. “Fucking shithead bet against me.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” you turn to fully look at him, nails tapping against glass. 

“You worry people will find out about us?” with his tongue he pushes his cigarette from one corner of his mouth to another. 

Another tap, louder this time, uncertainty forming a knot in your throat. Cold seeps into your clothes, brisk and cruel, and you drag your legs under yourself, thinking of a thing to say, heavy with the onset of a headache. 

It’s still Sanji who breaks the silence for you, “Well, we do enjoy each other’s company from time to time.” 

“We fuck from time to time.”

Sanji clicks his tongue—he’s never liked the sound of this word, not when used to describe what’s happening between you at least, but you know this is something he’ll never say to your face. 

“We might’ve slept together. But nothing’s for certain until we say the word, and until we do, butterfly,” he reaches for your hand. “We are free to take our time with each other.”

Feeling the gentle squeeze of your palm, you breathe out, and suddenly the world unfurls in front of you in softer colours. Maybe it’s not people finding out you’ve been afraid of, but Sanji, hopeless romantic Sanji, hoping to seal off a relationship as soon as he’s gotten a smudge of attention from someone he barely knows and offered wine to. 

“Plus,” he huffs the smoke out of his lungs. “I have faith that Robin’s beautiful soul will respect our privacy.” Then his voice drops to an uncanny drone, “But if tank engine dick witnessed something and blurts out I’m fucking him up.”

You tilt your head up, losing yourself amongst the clusters of stars blinking in the dark, sewing constellations in your mind. Tonight the sky is clearer than usual. Closer to your proximity, loafers drag themselves across the wood. Wine spilling into glasses. Citrus and pepper and nicotine, drawing a tender picture inside your chest.

There’s a chance Sanji might be something more to you than you’ve led yourself to believe. A thought you can't wait to fade out once you get sober.

roll credits.

[annievrse]

trick!

roronoa zoro x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: eerie fic for your halloween w/c: (tba) c/w: zoro refers to read as ‘my girl’, not proofread a/n: happy halloween!! i’m posting this (half drunk) at 2am, on my phone, on the bus, and it’s absolutely pouring, so i hope this is spooky enough (because i know i’m in the halloween spirit rn). enjoy!!!

A bloodcurdling scream wakes you from your sleep. Your eyes are bleary at first, your brain trying to make sense of the sound you heard. Was it real, or were you just dreaming? You lay there, frozen for a moment, the ship silent as it rides the waves of the Grand Line.

You turn your head towards Robin's bed, where she sleeps soundly, for once, and then towards Nami's. Your eyebrows draw closer when you fail to see the familiar lump of her body under the blankets. Sitting up, the sheets pool around your waist, and you look around the room for any sign of her.

Coming up empty-handed, you slip one leg out of your bed, carefully avoiding the creaky floorboard directly under your feet. "Robin."

Your crewmate shuffles slightly, a small groan coming from her lips. "Yeah?"

"Nami's missing."

Robin looks to the right side of the room where the redhead's bed sits vacant. You know she won't play into your wild thoughts that your friend got kidnapped and flicks her wrist in dismissal. "She's probably in the bathroom. Go back to sleep."

You nod noncommittally and ignore her as she turns around and goes back to sleep. Despite her careless nature, you know what you heard.

Tiptoeing toward the door, it opens swiftly, and you step into the hallway. Its eerily quiet, and you try holding your breath in intervals to keep yourself as undetectable as possible.

Seeking out the boy's quarters would be the best thing to do, you think; at least Zoro'll calm your nerves with some shitty explanation that you can pretend to believe — he's good at that since he's not scared of mere sounds that you'd deem a ghost the cause of.

Wrapping your arms around yourself against the draft that swims down the middle of the hallway, you can't help but look behind you at every available chance.

You never heard another scream, you remember, and the thought escapes you in the form of a whimper.

A door slamming shut turns your whimper to a yelp, and goosebumps gloss your skin at the sound. The ship goes quiet afterwards, dousing the hallway in utter silence. You can barely hear the waves crashing against the stern.

At last, you stand before the door to the boy's room, your body almost throwing itself against it in fear. You stumble inside, scanning the space for your boyfriend. A groan comes from the right side of the room, and you know you've woken Sanji from his sleep.

The cook sits up, his eyes widening when he sees you. He calls your name softly, and you meet his gaze. His expression turns to one of concern, and you can imagine the ridiculous look on your face — one of unconcealable fright.

"I heard a scream."

Like he can hear your barely there whisper from the far corner of the room, Zoro jumps from his hammock and makes his way toward you. "What's wrong?"

You look between him and Sanji and sigh. "Nami's missing from our room."

Sanji's eyebrows fly to his hairline, and he looks past you out the door. "You said you heard a scream?"

Zoro sighs and rubs his eye with his knuckle. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

You nod, looking directly at the swordsman, who eyes you with rare apprehension. "I'm scared."

Your tone flips a switch inside of Zoro and then he's standing up straighter, his hand resting on the hilt of one of his swords. "'Mkay."

Sanji pushes past Zoro and leaves the room.

"Where are you going?"

"To the deck," the cook answers without turning around or slowing.

"Idiot, he's going to get himself killed."

You latch onto Zoro's bicep quickly, his skin warm under your touch. "Do we have to follow him?"

Zoro huffs. "I guess. Who else is going to make me those rice balls?"

Rolling your eyes, you urge him to follow Sanji. "C'mon."

Risking a glance behind you, you go stiff. "Zoro."

"Yeah?" He mumbles, looking down at you and following your gaze to his other crewmates — or where they should be. "What the fuck?"

The empty beds make your stomach drop. Chopper, Usopp, Brook, Franky, and Luffy are missing from their hammocks, and the sight makes tears prick the corners of your eyes.

You're at a loss for words until Zoro pulls you out of the room. "I don't know what's going on here, but I'm gonna kick their asses."

Stepping into the empty hallway, the ship is silent. Zoro leads the way, his steps never faltering as you walk to the deck. When he opens the door, the wind hits you in the face, and the tears in your eyes run unwillingly.

Sniffling, you look around. The stars above you do little to comfort you, and you curse the moon for being a void in the sky tonight.

"Don't cry," Zoro mumbles, and you know he doesn't mean it harshly. "Who do you think I am, huh? Think I'm gonna let anything happen to you?"

"No," you laugh wetly, wiping your eyes. "You're my big, strong boyfriend who has the bearings of a rock."

"That's my girl," He says, a flit of humour in his voice. "Now, where're these morons?"

A sharp scream from the bow of the Sunny makes you yelp and tighten your grip on Zoro's arm.

"What are these idiots up to?" He mumbles, and then you are led toward the sound, every fibre of your being wanting to run the other way and maybe into the ocean. Zoro draws Shusui and slices the air, jolting you from a stupor.

"Watch where you swing that thing, mosshead!"

Rolling his eyes, Zoro snarls at the rest of your crew who emerge from the small room inside the figurehead.

You gasp at seeing your crewmates unharmed and drop your arms from Zoro's elbow. "What the fuck, guys?"

Nami, who you were elated to see, barked a laugh, doubling over at the look on your face—which you were sure was one of surprise.

Luffy yawns and stumbles toward you. "Nami's revenge is getting boring!"

"Hey!" She yells, whacking him upside the head. "You were all for it earlier!"

Luffy groans and continues his path to the boy's quarters. "That's when you gave me meat."

"Well!' Usopp announces. "I sure love a good scare."

"You were shaking like a leaf, big guy," Sanji deadpans, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Why were you all stuffed into Sunny?" Zoro asks over the arguing.

Nami huffs, crosses her arms over her chest, and eyes you with mischief. "Revenge for spending my berries on that stinky idiot!"

"I didn't," You furrow your eyebrows. "I had those berries left over when I sold my share of the treasure. I would never steal from you."

"I know that," Nami whines, dropping her face into her palms. "Well, if you didn't, then who did?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Brook and Chopper slowly inching closer to the door to the quarters. Realisation overcomes you instantly, and you sigh. "Why don't you ask those two?"

Narrowing her eyes at the musician and the doctor, Nami gasps. "You!"

Collective screams from behind you echo into the night as Nami chases your crewmates down the deck and into the hallway.

Zoro yawns, tugging your hand. "Okay.”

You shoot him a wary look. “What?”

Zoro nodded towards the boys quarters. “We’re going to bed?”

Your cheeks heat when you realise he’s taking you with him. When he notices your smug expression, Zoro rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“No, I know,” you laugh, following him down the stairs.

“Then stop your giggling.”

He wouldn’t tell you, but Zoro never wanted to feel the stab of worry he got when you woke him up in a panic in his chest again.

“I’m gonna kill them in the morning,” he grumbles, rubbing his eye with his knuckle. “For scarin’ the shit outta you, and for pissin’ me off…”

Gripping your hand tighter, Zoro pulls you into his side, sighing when you raise your eyebrow. “Can’t have you goin’ anywhere.”

[sharksnshakes]

Night Out - Tim Drake

image source: batboyblog on tumblr

When out at a dive bar with your friends, you step outside for a breath of fresh air and run into the Red Robin. For some reason, he seems... familiar?

AN; writers block is brutal and disgusting and horrible. also. i am suffering from batfamily brainrot so expect more of this (part two can be found here!)

Wordcount; 787

TW; some cursing, mentions of drinking

It's a damp spring night when you meet the Red Robin. You're out with your friends at some college dive bar on the East Side. The area's a far cry from Gotham U's campus, but with free entry and cheap drinks, it's worth the elevated risk of mugging.

"Besides," one of your friends had declared on the way to the bar, "It just means we're more likely to see Nightwing's hot ass."

You're pretty sure the dark-haired vigilante operates exclusively in Bludhaven these days, but you're not a party pooper.

The music was good, the crowd was fun, but a small room of drunk co-eds had a way of heating up quicker than Firefly's flamethrower, and so you'd retreated out the side door for a breath of fresh air. You weren't stupid; you'd taken your small can of mace with you. This was Gotham, after all.

The alleyway was blissfully empty, save for a dumpster--quite the relief, seeing as the last time you'd been here, you'd stumbled upon a couple deep in the throes of a heated make out session. Taking a breath, you leaned up against the cool bricks in the alleyway and let yourself decompress.

"There's definitely better places to hang out around here than dark alleys," a voice says from somewhere behind you.

Living in the city has taught you many things. Most importantly, how to turn off potential predators by acting downright crazier than they do.

You spin on your heel and hold the mace like it's a pistol, coming face-to-face with none other than--

"Holy shit, you're Robin," you gasp, eyes widening.

Thank god you didn't actually mace him.

"That I am," he says, warily eyeing the can in your hand.

"Like... the Red Robin," you continue. You're blinking at him, openly gaping, and it occurs to you that you should probably stop pointing the can at his eyes. You stow the makeshift weapon in your back pocket. "I'm so sorry! I thought you were a mugger or something!"

"Hey, it's fine," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "If it's any consolation, you definitely would've scared the shit out of a mugger."

You laugh, but it's mostly in disbelief. Red Robin is standing mere feet away from you, domino mask and yellow cloak and green pants and all, and you're suddenly very thankful you'd gotten dressed up to go out tonight. For a split second, you swear you see him give you a quick once over. But no, there's no way Robin's checking you out.

He glances around the alleyway for a moment, almost awkwardly, before speaking again. "...Any reason you're out here?"

"I'm out with my friends," you say, motioning to the building behind you, where the bar's logo is printed in peeling white vinyl. "Needed some air. Somehow, smoke and asthma don't make a good combination," you joke.

"Can't imagine why," he grins, and holy shit Red Robin thinks you're funny.

"You got any fun, exciting plans tonight?"

He hesitates.

"Wait, you don't have to answer. I know, top secret Batman stuff--"

"Nah, not that secret." It's dark in the alleyway so maybe you're not seeing things right, but you swear you can see a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Just patrolling. Y'know. Keeping an eye out for muggers and mace-wielding asthmatics."

You laugh. "Sounds boring."

"Definitely could use a drink." He glances at the side door with an unreadable expression.

"Rough start to the night?"

"You could say that."

A brief silence stretches between the two of you. Traffic and the faint pounding of the bar's music fill the space, and for some reason, despite never having met Robin and likely never meeting him again, it feels... almost familiar.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one stuck at work tonight. One of my best friends, Tim, had to bail last minute since he's got an exam to study for. So, like, you're not suffering alone!" you add, thinking back to the guy you've kind of been maybe having romantic feelings for lately.

Robin chokes.

"Shit, you okay? Need me to, like, slap you on the back or something?"

"Nope," he says, voice raspy.

"You're sure?"

"Positive." He gives you an awkward thumbs-up.

"I should probably let you get back to work, then," you sigh, turning back to the side door and grasping the handle. "And I should get back in there. Don't need my friends worried about me."

When you turn back around, it's just you and the dumpster.

"Fuckin' impressive," you mutter to nobody but yourself. "See ya, Robin."

You step back inside. The door closes behind you and... fuck.

You forgot to ask for a picture.

[xxsycamore]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!

╰┈➤ Four times William uses his curse on you to control your orgasms.

William Rex/f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Established Relationship; Orgasm Control; Forced Orgasm; Orgasm Denial; Mind Control; Multiple Orgasms; Aftercare; Gentle Sex; Kink Negotiation; Dirty Talk; Overstimulation; Coming Untouched Enthusiastic Consent Public Sex; Masturbation; Lingerie Strip Tease; Begging Light Dom/sub Dominance; Vaginal Fingering Praise Kink Discipline • wordcount: 2,458 • masterlist

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 4: Orgasm Control

The first time it's brought up, you are both in bed.

Lying on William's naked chest, you bask in the afterglow of hours spent making love to him. He did you so well; the slight soreness of your limbs only serving to emphasize how well he loved you tonight. Getting lost in the endless blood-red pools of his eyes, you draw little patterns around his collarbones, making him chuckle as his own restless hands roam your sides.

"William… I want more…"

Your voice is tiny, despite his countless attempts to make you greedy, to bring out a side of you that would take from him as much as you want to. He gives you a little "Oh?", dripping with that sultry but elegant tone that you simply cannot resist.

"What am I gonna do with you, my little Robin?"

You lower your head, breaking the eye contact for a second as you bury your face into the crook of his neck instead.

"You don't have to do much… I'm still so sensitive all over that I feel I'd come undone if you as much as lay a finger on me…"

William produces another small laughing noise, the sound vibrating close to where your lips linger - the next time you lift your upper body to look at William again, your lips graze his beautiful neck in a chaste kiss. He simply looks at you with interest, probably wondering what else goes on in that head of yours.

"Let's see, then."

Without wasting any time, one of his hands snakes its way down your backside and between your legs. He collects some of your slick, a sweet combination of his and your juices, and reaches further down to play with your clit.

"Mmnh…"

Little sparks of overstimulation run through you, but they do nothing to distract you from the rapidly growing pleasure that William gives to you. Bracing yourself with arms propped up on both sides of his head, you slowly lift your face to look at him - to kiss him, or to tell him you're coming, anything - but as soon as your gaze meets his piercing scarlet one, you simply tip over the edge and come undone on the spot.

William lets you ride out your orgasm, your hips basically humping his fingers as you thrash around; his other hand wrapping around your back to hold you in place, gently. Once your body relaxes and he hears your tired pants, head buried in his neck again, he whispers close to your ear:

"My, did I accidentally use my curse on you? I said nothing, yet it's like you came just from looking into my eyes, little Robin. How sweet."

For a moment both of you remain quiet. William's complex feelings surrounding his ability are a topic you've already had the chance to communicate with him, and you'd assured him you're not afraid of looking into his eyes. Still, it's a sensitive thing to talk about - even if he's the one mentioning it in the first place - you're not sure how to respond, but you don't want to delay your response for too long either.

"It's true that if you were to use it on me like this, it wouldn't be much different, haha… I love your eyes, William."

Oh no, what have you done? Bitting on your bottom lip, you almost jump as his breathy chuckle blows an emission of cool air close to your temples.

"What are you imagining, exactly? Me ordering you to come undone whenever I wish to?"

"T-That's not-!"

"I need to say I'm not opposed to the idea. As long as you are feeling comfortable with me doing this."

There's something akin to butterflies, a fluttering sensation in the pit of your belly, as the fantasy he created for you becomes more and more vivid.

"I… I want you to try…"

William silently caresses your spent body some more, kissing the crown of your head, and then at last he speaks again.

"We can do that tomorrow then, if you still want to. Now get some sleep, my dear."

As if you can sleep after knowing what's to come…

The first time it actually happens, you immediately want it to happen again.

Sprawled across the bed on your back, your fingers dig into the bedsheets on both sides of your body as William rains kisses across your sensitive chest. You both know what's to come, but he's far more collected than you are. He always is. If it weren't for the fact that you know him inside and out, you wouldn't notice the little hints of hesitation in his otherwise precise actions. The way he stops his ministrations the second you start to moan too much, his fingers dipping ever so shallowly inside you. You know well the source of his hesitation, however, and it keeps you relaxed. Rather than questioning the trust you put in him, he's probably wondering… if you're stimulated enough.

"My darling Robin, are you ready to follow my order?"

You find his eyes before he can even finish his question. It says more than your response would say, but you still nod, wet your lips, and answer properly.

"Yes. Please."

It's like diving into the unknown; both for you and for him, almost in a manner that is special to you, to have another first together, to share the feeling of this discovery. You like seeing him like this, a new light behind his eyes, a curiosity that paints his gaze somewhat more playful, youthful.

"Come for me."

A strong current of pleasure zaps through you, like a lightning bolt, a force you cannot stop. Your muscles contract, your walls squeeze around nothing as you ride out an orgasm that is like nothing you've ever felt before.

The concern surrounding his usage of the curse was simple. It's well known that he can control people's minds with it - and while the mind is connected with the body, neither of you can know for sure if the little experiment would be successful. Without an external source of stimulation, it would be very tormenting if your mind was set on to achieve something that is not within its powers. William would have been there for you, should that be the case, fast to assist you in finding your peak so you can execute his curse's order and find peace.

But none of this is needed, because the only thing you're granted with is pure bliss. Like being able to see the sparks of energy passing through your neurons in an absolute spectacle of the senses, you experience great pleasure beyond any other. The reason? Receiving so much direct stimulation without the distraction of being physically touched leaves you with the ability to feel nothing but pleasure. It's mind-blowing.

When you come down from your high, William gazes over you with so much lust in his eyes that you almost get scared. He must have enjoyed the sight.

"My dear… you are…"

"William, please do that to me again! I want to experience it again!"

Surprise blooms on William's face as he stares at you in disbelief. Here he was ready to tend to you should the whole ordeal tire you, overstimulate you in a way, or completely turn you off, or else-

"Come."

In a flash, your torso lifts off the bed, body as tight as a string, almost as if possessed. You don't understand any of how this works, and you don't want to. Without needing to recharge, to build up a new wave of arousal, your body simply obeys and fills itself with nothing but pleasure.

You descend from your peak, but not into the softness of the mattress - rather, it's William who pulls you into his embrace, starved to feel you against him. You can only imagine how much he longs to put his hands on you now, to love you how he knows best.

The first time it catches you off-guard, you're in public.

Exploring this new method of playing with you has become a fixation of William's. He'd tease you in so many ways; commanding you to come even while he's inside you, just to watch how much your pleasure heighens when he completely domineers over your senses like that. The spike in his libido and in his dominance comes as a surprise but you don't want him stopping anytime soon. It's not long before you give him your consent to take this game out of the bedroom, whenever he sees fit. He did it once in the carriage when the two of you were in a hurry, even if it only made the urgency to entangle your limbs that much greater in the end.

With a pause of a day or two since the last time he used his curse on you, it's the ideal period of time to lower your guard for this.

You and William are out on a date today, already seated at the theater and waiting for the play to begin. The seats William reserved are located in the opera box, with no more than a handful of people sharing the space with you, and even those are situated far enough to your right to cease noticing their presence at all, especially once the lights are dimmed. You're more than happy with this luxurious arrangement, looking forward to seeing the play while in the company of your lover.

It hasn't been long into it when William suddenly takes off his coat.

"Are you cold, my dear? Please, allow me."

You watch William in confusion as he proceeds to put his coat on you, like a blanket draped over your front.

"Thanks, William." You reply with a smile, not minding his gesture at all, but when you direct your gaze back to the stage below, you see him from your peripheral vision with his gaze still latched on you.

A devious thought creeps into your head, and you feel like you know exactly what is going to happen if you meet William's gaze right now. And you do exactly that.

William's voice is but a whisper, enough just for you to hear.

"Come."

Your fingernails bite into the velvety armrests of your seat, a tremor going through your body, and now you see the purpose of his coat. William is too sly for his own good, you manage to think through the euphoria, as the need to moan his name almost overpowers your self-control. The cacophony of noises produced by the actors down below drowns the small whine you let out as the last of the waves of pleasure wash over you, and only the pleasant buzz remains.

William places his hand over yours, entwining his slender digits with yours. You spend the remainder of the play just like this.

The first time you're the one wanting it, he has you begging for it.

He's in his chair, lightly swinging a glass of wine, savoring his drink without a hurry in the world. Why would he? You waltzed in here clad in a brand new set of lingerie underneath your robe, and you agreed when he requested for you to put on a little show for him first. It's been a while now since the silky red undergarments have been discarded on the floor and you'd begin touching yourself all for him to watch. But no matter what you do, with the anticipation that you're going to receive a much bigger treat than those sorry fingers of yours, you simply can't reach your peak on your own.

"William, please…"

"Please what, my Robin?"

"Please make me cum! Command me to cum! I can't do it without you, William, please!"

William's smile grows. You'd think he's satisfied with your pleas if it weren't for the casual way he takes a sip of his wine, not looking like someone soon to take action.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's a pleasure for my eyes."

You whine at his words, fingers rubbing harder in hopes that you can somehow put an early end to this and then move on to what you really are after. With your current position kneeling on the carpeted floor, you can easily put your other hand to work as well, parting your knees just a little more apart so you can freely finger yourself all for William's eyes to see. He's not that harsh. He's never been. You're sure he'll let you come anytime now.

Just when the added simulation begins to take an effect on you, there's movement from your lover. The wine glass is set down as he slowly shortens the distance, and to your surprise, sinks one knee to the floor so he can be close enough to touch you.

His manicured hand reaches out until it's directly on your clit, your own falling to the side as your mind screams a thousand times 'yes' with anticipation to finally get some real stimulation.

As expected, it takes no time for William's familiar touch to send you to the edge. Your body language does little to hide the telltale signs of your quickly approaching climax as William's free hand suddenly captures your chin, making you lock eyes with him.

"Don't come."

As if an invisible barrier prevents William's touch from actually reaching you, all stimulation is cut out. No, you still feel it, undoubtedly - yet your brain is confused, the signals not getting through, as you whimper and cry out in frustration.

"No—Please, William, Please! I need it, please let me cum!"

William removes his hand and you practically bend forward, trying to chase after his touch, on your hands and knees before him.

"Please, William!"

He needn't tilt your chin this time - you've been eagerly waiting for it, your eyes trained on him the entire time - and when he rises to his feet you feel devastated, afraid he's getting further away from you. When your face is this close to the floor and he's risen to his full height, he looks almost intimidating.

"Come, my Robin."

You feel a powerful full-body shudder that washes over you, something like pure ecstasy as your head falls between your arms, spine arching and hips trembling.

"William…William…ahhh…"

You feel a gentle touch on your cheek and you can do little other than nuzzle into it, thankful for the mercy he showed.

"Let's get you to bed now, my lovely Robin. You did so well. I want to spoil you thoroughly now."

Basking in his praise, all that you can think about is making him even prouder of how disciplined you can be… You wonder if next time he would even need to use his curse on you at all.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison   @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[kultofkorii]

− Devour

✎ sanji x obsessive! reader

♦︎ fic type: smut

♦︎summary: the love you have for him is deep and might be concerning, but he doesn't have to know.

♦︎word count: 1.7k +

♦︎warnings: Obsessive thoughts, no use of y/n, gender neutral reader, penetration

He was yours, it didn't matter if he knew of not, he was your and nothing he or anyone could say would ever make you think differently. From the moment he walked onto the sandy beach of your home island and helped you liberate your people; to the moment he asked you to be his, he belonged to you.

Some of his crewmates seemed reluctant to have you join them, the time it took for them to learn eachother and their mannerisms was long. They didn't want to go through that process all over again, but Luffy recognized you for your strength and saw what you could bring to his crew which had previously been missing. And so you became the Strawhat's very own Alchemist, your expertise being in chemicals, toxins, and medicines.

This had to be the universe's way of paying you back for all the trouble you'd went through. You wouldn't dream of passing up this offer, especially if you could be with the blonde cook. After months of traveling with the crew, you were able to form solid friendships with everyone. While Sanji was your main goal, you couldn't lie and say that you didn't care about the rest of the Strawhat Family. Sanji just held a special place in your deep and twisted soul.

This aspect about yourself you hid pretty well, years of trial, error and rejection had made you see that the world wasn't truly ready to understand you as a person. Neither was your new family, despite how accepting they were. Maybe one day you'd let them see, but the inner workings of your mind were not for any normal person to comprehend. You were okay with this arrangement though, because the more normal you seemed the closer you could become to him.

He didn't have to know how deep the black void in your heart seeped. Sanji in all of his beautiful, perfect glory didn't need to burden himself with your brokenness. When he smiled at you from across the deck, he didn't have to know. When he brought you, Nami and Robin special treats, he didn't have to know. When his soft, peach colored lips touched your knuckles delicately, his ocean blue orbs meeting your; although his lustrous golden hair covered one. His perfectly curled eyebrow raised 1 1/3 cm away from his eye which locked you in his gave. The feel of his perfectly manicured hand grasping yours lightly; you wished you could clip his fingernails and keep them in a small locket next to you heart- he didn't have to know.

You continued to keep it from him, even as he knelt before you, asking you to finally hold the keys to his heart. Those raw, dark emotions resurfaced for a split second which you quickly suppressed before he could notice. Like you'd practiced over and over again, you happily wrapped your arms around him, inhaling the scent of his cologne mixed with natural kitchen spices. He didn’t need to see the depths of your obsession, all he needed to know was that you loved him, and that you would do anything to keep his attention on you.

Sanji didn't have to know, not even as your nails marking his back as he slowly plunged into your tight canal; letting the world know who he belongs to. He seemed to have the same agenda; the way his mushroom tip bruised that desired spot was better than you could ever imagine. The times you've touched yourself to the thought of him couldn't begin to compare to this moment. "Ngh- my love you feel so- so heavenly."

His hips moved with purpose and to an unknown rhythm that was synced to the beating on your heart. Sensual touching exchanged between you two, further solidifying you in this moment. The intensity of it all makes your mask crack just a little, enough for Sanji to see a sliver of your dark heart but not enough that we could ever think of pulling away from you. "Mine your all mine...Sanji tell me you're mine- shit..Tell me...tell me you'll never leave me!"

His pace intensified even more, your obsessiveness pulling him evermore closer to you. This being the first time he'd ever truly felt desired the way he wanted to be. Finally the love he had could finally be truly shared and reciprocated back. He felt his member twitch inside of you, more cum leaking into your canal. "I'm yours mon amour- I promise you I'm yours-fuck-"

Loads of cum seeped from when you two were connected, his fast pace pushing more into you weeping hole. You'd lost count of the orgasms you'd had but anytime he saw your mixed essence trailing onto the sheets beneath you he'd quickly fuck the liquid back into your tight canal. Slutty groans leaving his kiss bruised lips as he tips into the brink of overstimulation. “You feel so good! ‘So good!”

“Oh my fuck—!” The whines escaping your throat were drowned out by Sanji's soft lips pressing against yours hungrily. You returned the same level of intensity, more of your darkness seeping through in the moment. His pace was controlled but the way he drilled his hips into your own was delicious.

Sanji's breathing increases in pace; trailing light kisses down you burning skin. The heart from you bodies makes you both feel drowsy but Sanji won't cease until he's pulled one more release from you. "M'gonna cum-fuck-," He locks eyes with you, the moment becoming increasingly more intimate. His lithe hand lifts on of your legs, placing it over his shoulder to reach even deeper, but not before placing a warm kiss in you ankle.

"Come with me, mon amour, please." He coos at you; the bed shaking with every thrust. The friction, each precise thrust, his burning skin pressing ever more closely against yours. The sight of his chest rising and falling, jagged breaths leaving his lungs. That gaze, like you were the only being in the world as his tip pressed further into you slutty hole. These were all factors pushing you over the edge, whimpers leaving both of you. His stuttering hips pushing his finally load deep while simultaneously ridding you through your most intense orgasm yet.

Lingering marking across his pale skin, hushed whimpers leaving his pink lips at the contact of your lips again his neck. Sucking the red beneath his skin towards the surface, imagining yourself sucking that sweet red nectar of his, devouring what was truly yours. Letting any woman, who dared to set their eye on him as a suitor see, that he belonged to someone. And if they dared to ignore the physical signs of your possession, they would simply have to leave the face of this earth. Sanji wouldn't miss them, he didn't need to when he had you and you were all he would ever need. He didn't have to know.

He was yours to devour.

[hannahbarberra162]

Backwards, In Heels (Imagine Dancing with Zoro, SFW, x Reader, Fluff)

SFW fluff with Zoro. Watched Rent again recently, had a thought.

Zoro x GN Reader

WC: ~850

TW: none, Zoro does a smooch <3

Brook’s hauntingly beautiful music floated over the deck as the moonlight shone bright on the cloudless night. You, Zoro, and Brook were the only ones awake, enjoying the gentle breeze and the pleasant atmosphere. Zoro was on watch duty, Brook slept very little and you had always been a night owl. The three of you comprised the late night crew, occasionally joined by Luffy, Robin, or Jinbei. But most often the three of you spent the late night hours in companionable silence as Brook played his violin. It was some of your favorite time aboard the Sunny and you cherished the time you got to spend with Zoro especially. The two of you had something unnamed happening between you, seemingly each waiting for the other to make the first move. You were standing in the crows nest next to each other, leaning against the open window and watching the night sky.

“I almost wish Sanji was here,” you lamented, swaying to the music Brook was playing. Zoro scoffed, taking the bottle of alcohol back from you. The two of you had a secret bottle you shared on pleasant nights, just to make the time even sweeter.

“Why would you want the ero-cook here? He'd just -”

“Ah, don't start. I didn't mean anything by it. I just feel like dancing and he's good at it,” you remarked. Sanji and Zoro fought non stop but it was a simple fact that Sanji was an elegant dancer. You'd tried to get Zoro to dance with you at different bars before the crew had been separated but he'd steadfastly refused, saying that he didn't dance. You never once had seen him so much as tap a foot while Sanji twirled you along the dancefloor. 

“Tch. I can dance,” Zoro scoffed, not looking at you. Your eyebrows shot up.

“What do you mean you can dance? You've been holding out on me this whole time, Roronoa?” you teased. You didn't think he meant it, he just didn't want to acknowledge that there were things Sanji was superior to him at besides cooking.

“No, Mihawk taught me. Said swordfighting is a dance and that I lacked grace and rhythm,” Zoro said while grimacing, taking a swig of alcohol. “Bink’s sake” continued to lilt in the moonlight illuminated room as Zoro turned to face you. He was a little flushed but it wasn't from the alcohol.

“He wouldn't train me until I could dance. It was weeks of just dance class - worst time of my life,” Zoro lamented. You laughed softly, wishing you had been there to see it.

“I can only imagine what dance class with Mihawk was like,” you said, putting your hand on his shoulder like you were setting up for a waltz. Zoro grunted but before you could decline he put his hand on the small of your back and grabbed your free hand in his own. Now you were the one flushing as Zoro pressed your body into his own. 

“If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask,” Zoro said, his face now close to your own. And as Brooks music continued to play, Zoro took a step forward, leading you in a waltz. He led you with ease as you allowed him to push and pull you around the crow’s nest in time to the music. He spun you and brought you back and kept you moving along the floor like he’d been dancing his whole life. 

It didn’t surprise you that being in command came easily to Zoro, the way he fought translated perfectly to his grace on the dance floor. The two of you were able to dance together seamlessly as you stared into his eyes, feet forgotten as you tried to commit this incredible moment to memory. You weren’t going to bring it up to the crew, this would be your secret to keep.

All too soon, Brook’s song ended and the Skeleton did not pick up his bow any further. Zoro spun you away from him then gave you a bow at the waist, which made you giggle.

“Thank you for granting me the pleasure of this dance,” Zoro said formally while bowing. You could almost see Mihawk forcing him to say the specific words that were so different from the way Zoro usually spoke.

“The pleasure is all mine Zoro,” you said softly, returning to him and kissing him on the cheek. Zoro was still flushed but took the opportunity to put his hand behind your head to pull you closer. He leaned down and kissed you, the taste of alcohol still on his tongue. You sighed and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, your Swordsman finally back within your arms.

~

“By the way, I was wondering. If Mihawk trained you to dance, who was your partner?” you asked, sitting in Zoro’s lap in the crow’s nest, his strong arms wrapped around you.

“He was. Sometimes Perona, but she didn’t usually want to,” Zoro said with a grimace.

“So who led?”

“He did of course.”

“So you learned -”

“Backwards. In heels.”

@mfreedomstuff I finally remembered!