#imagine any robin you'd like
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demonicsuffrage · 3 days ago
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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
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corkinavoid · 3 months ago
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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.
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lostalioth · 1 month ago
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𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭
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→ 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
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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.
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→ 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.
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cloudzoro · 10 months ago
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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
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hanasnx · 9 months ago
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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.
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kusakiguzen · 5 months ago
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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?
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
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gotham-daydreams · 1 year ago
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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:
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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 :]
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 8 months ago
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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 🫶💌
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citrinae · 1 month ago
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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.
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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.
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roll credits.
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annievrse · 26 days ago
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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!!!
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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.”
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sharksnshakes · 5 months ago
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Night Out - Tim Drake
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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.
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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 10 months ago
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Just imagining what it would be like for you and Eddie to both drunk and looking for each other. You don't realize you've been talking to one another the whole time.
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Steve's party had been going on now practically all night. You and Eddie arrived hours ago, and now you can't seem to find each other. He went off with his friends, and so did you. You mingled and stayed close together when you first got there. But soon, you unintentionally drifted away the drunker you got.
Your face was tingling, and your head felt so heavy. Your whole body just wasn't corporating. Your limbs felt like they were in a constant battle to keep you standing or even walking straight. You kept calling out for Eddie.
You wanted to go home but knew he wasn't driving. Not in the condition he was probably in. He got drunk way before you did. You saw him throwing back shot after shot. Then chasing it down with his favorite beer, a pbr. The thought of the taste is already making you gag. He was a lightweight no matter how much he tried arguing against it.
You were stumbling and kept calling for your boyfriend. "Eddie!"
You even grabbed some random dude just because he had longish hair. He was definitely not your Eddie. You made a face of diagust and mumbled "ew" under your breath when the guy turned around.
The party kept getting louder the drunker you became. Everyone kinda started looking a like. Your vision was nothing but a blur. You even confused Nancy for Steve at one point. All because she had on his jacket.
The funny thing is that she never even bothered to correct you. If it wasn't for Robin speaking up to tell you, it was actually Nancy you were talking to. You would still be calling her Steve the rest of the time.
The killer hangover you're destined to have in the morning made you wish you never started drinking tonight. Too late. You knew you were screwed by the fifth shot of tequila. You and Eddie were going to be in misery.
You stumble again and flop down on the couch next to someone. A man who you really can't even focus on any distinctive features. He's just there slumped back with his legs spread open holding a candle that he assumed was his beer can.
You may be drunk off your ass but not drunk enough to mistake a candle for a can of beer. You look over, and he's nothing but a blurry figure to you. You blink and blink, trying to figure out who he is. Your drunkened mind comes up with nothing. He is another stranger to you. Little did you know that's actually your boyfriend. Who you have been on the hunt for all night long.
You heard him mumbling something in coherent over and over again.
"What you say?" You slurred.
He burped before repeating. "I said you have seen my girlfriend? She's cute. You can't miss her."
"Oh no havent seen her...m'lookin for my boyfriend actually. He's a nerd you can't miss'em" you giggled and sat up a little.
"Haven't seen any nerds around." Eddie quipped and went to take a drink from the candle.
He made a face when nothing went into his mouth. He still has yet to notice his actual beer is on the table.
"Been lookin' for her all night. I even cried at the beer keg." He sounded like he was about to cry again. "Guys out there forced me to come sit down to calm myself."
You put your hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He sounded so sad you couldn't help but feel bad for him. "She's around here somewhere."
"My boyfriend is missing too, startin' to think he's in a bush passed out." You rubbed your eyes and laid back against the couch.
Eddie snorts and goes in his pocket to grab his pack of cigarettes.
"All I know is when I find that little shit I can pass out in peace." He slurred and practically ripped open his pack of cigarettes to get one out.
"Yeah, me too-- When I find my boyfriend, I'm passing out too." You hiccuped, and your eyes slowly got heavier. The party started to die down a lot. People were falling asleep or walking home.
"When you'd get here?" Eddie turned to face you. "Been lookin' for you all night!"
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theyluvlyss · 2 months ago
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𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲...
...wishing there was a yellow font color😔...
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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.
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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🤭💀).
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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
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :
@in3rci4
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :
1,896 words
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :
none :(
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kultofkorii · 5 months ago
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− Devour
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✎ 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
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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.
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dearanakin · 1 year ago
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"My cherie amour" - Eddie Munson x pregnant f! Reader
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Summary: You tell Eddie Munson, your best friend, you're pregnant. You don't hide from him who the father is, but considering his reputation, you were better off without him. The metalhead offers you a surprising opportunity of becoming the child's father.
Warning: TOO MUCH FLUFINESS I CRIED, sex, oral sex, mention of pregnancy. 18+ MINORS DNI!!
Word count: 5.8k
next chapter
🍼🍼🍼
You were sitting on the bench in the middle of nowhere of a forest Eddie Munson made sure no one goes to.
Tapping your fingers against the table, you start to shake your legs uncontrollably as you wait for him to arrive there soon, otherwise you're gonna have a stroke from waiting.
It's been only five minutes but it feels like a lifetime and it's already making you feel nauseous. That's how you found out you got pregnant after a wild night with Billy Hargrove at a party. You started feeling nauseous and then a month later your period was late.
It couldn't be worse than that. You had too much alcohol and Billy was being kind, something he almost never is like. He was treating you nicely since he noticed you were too drunk. It kinda got into you how he managed to be a gentleman.
Even after that day, but then when you told him you were pregnant he just literally... vanished. He made sure he would never bump into you anywhere. Not at the mall, not downtown, not at any party you'd go. Max made him apologize, tried to convince him to be there for you at least. But he never even made it clear he cared about it.
The way you tried to accept this pregnancy without even knowing if you wanted it made you cry yourself to sleep every night. Until you told Nancy, she was so caring and supportive. She would call you every night before you went to bed, she would invite you to stay over so you wouldn't be by yourself.
You were too far away from your family and you actually didn't want to deal with that right now. You just didn't know how to tell them you're pregnant after fucking some douche charming at a party. You're only 18 goddammit.
Then you decided you'd tell Eddie first because he was your closest friend besides Robin and Nancy, even Steve. You knew he would definitely freak out but he would support you in a heartbeat.
You slowly explained him how you ended up sleeping with Hargrove at the party, how you didn't care you didn't wear protection, because afterwards you'd take a pill. But you didn't, because you were so hammered the next day you actually forgot about it.
He listened carefully and waited until you were finished. His first response was exactly how you thought he would react. "Holy shit. Shit! Jesus, (Y/N), you fucked Billy Hargrove?".
You were thankful there was nobody around, his high pitched words were loud. "Oh my God, that is the most irresponsible and nonsense thing you could've done". Like you didn't know that.
"No, it's just bad already that you would willingly fuck him. But not wear protection and forget about the pill?".
He was standing there walking left and right, making you dizzy. "I know that, Munson". You weren't even bothered to be offended by the way he was taking it, because you knew it more than anyone.
"And he never called you, sent a letter, anything?". You shook your head. "He didn't offer to keep it?". You shook your head again.
"Actually, Max begged him to at least be there for any appointment", but he refused to. He said he doesn't care if I keep it or not.
You were lucky you didn't hear his words straight from his mouth. You wouldn't be able to carry on with this pregnancy. But you were still fighting to make it all the way.
Eddie was still in disbelief, it was clearly a fucked up situation. He sat back on the bench and held your hand against the table, giving you a warming look.
"I know this is a crazy situation and I can't imagine how incredibly shitty you must feel because of that dickwad. But you know I'm going to be here for you throughout this. You have Nance, you have Robin and even Harrington".
His hands genuinely squeezed yours as you felt your eyes burning from the tears threatening to fall. "And you know what? Fuck it, I'll do it. Just fuck it".
He grinned, but it wasn't clear to you what he actually meant with that. "Do what, Eddie?".
"I'll take care of it. I'll be the father. What's the worst thing that could happen? I can't hold a fucking baby for life, but I'll learn". He sounds too serious and it catches your breath.
Was he being serious about that?
"Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about? This isn't a play date", he chuckled by your response, waving his hand at you as he stood up only to sit next to you.
"Sweetheart, this kid doesn't have a father. I'm not gonna let you acknowledge Hargrove as this baby's father. I'm more than happy to help you get through this", he was holding your face with both hands.
His mint gum breath was fanning against you and he looked really excited about this. You were about to cry, but you weren't sure it was because of what's been happening or because of the damn hormones.
"Oh, sweet thing. Don't cry", he holds you closer as he wraps his arms around your neck. And you start bawling your eyes out because that's how it's going every single day.
You either cry or eat when you're not working. You cry, you eat, you rest and repeat. Munson got this crazy idea out of his head and it suddenly made you feel welcomed into his world a little bit more.
He was always really caring, he was absolutely the nicest person you've ever met. He never failed to make you feel better on your worst days, he would always make you laugh when you didn't want to.
"Baby Munson is gonna be so loved", his warm voice made you giggle because he looked really excited about that.
"You're already calling this child by your name?", you shake your head as you roll your eyes. "Damn Eddie, slow down with this big ego of yours".
"Fuck yeah I am. Fuck baby Hargrove, this kid is not going to be his anyway", he responded. At some point he was right, but your child would be carrying his genes anyway.
And Max would be so happy to be an aunt anyway. She just made it clear how she's going to love and take care of the baby too.
You were feeling better than you thought you would be. Actually, you had no intention of having this conversation with Eddie for him to just offer to become a father.
Not in a million years would you think he would just do something like that without even hesitating. Fuck, he didn't even think twice about that. Hopefully he doesn't regret it though.
He took you for a walk afterwards and started making plans for the baby's trosseau, which was still weird for you. But comforting, to say the least. You know he was gonna be hanging around spreading his hand on your belly all the time.
Munson is so high up on his hype he doesn't even care this is not his. He just cares about you and your baby, he cares about you and your happiness, nothing else.
He made you sit on a park with him while he was buying pretzels for both you of you. His excuse was that you need to eat and keep the child full of food. You laughed so hard at his statement, it almost made you choke.
Eddie came back holding pretzels and a bag of popcorn, which you suddenly realized you were craving for it without even knowing. He sat in front of you, watching as you gladly take a handful of popcorn in your mouth.
This wasn't a date, you think. You would always hang out with him, go to vinyl shops and listen to music with him. You would take him with you to the mall when you wanted to buy clothes or shoes and he would go with you.
He would end up getting clothes and a shit ton of other things for himself. You and him are always having too much fun around each other, even with Robin and Steve.
"Look, I know it's hard for you to know that motherfuc- sorry, baby", he cut himself staring at your belly and it caught you off guard. "This mother fudging bastard doesn't have any interest in this. But I need you to promise me you're gonna be ok".
First you snorted out loud and smiled at him. "Eddie, just being around you and the guys will be helpful enough for me. I can figure out the rest". You were honestly too hopeless because you didn't expect Billy to be so unconcerned and cold about you.
Not when he treated you kindly that day. But you guessed it was because of the booze, or he was just really trying to get above you and get what he wanted.
Munson attempted to wipe away a trail of tear sliding down your cheek, but soon you started flooding your entire face without even noticing.
He kneeled in front of you and gave you the biggest hug he could. His clothes smelled like weed and his cologne, he was warm and his curly hair tickled your nose.
When you held on to his denim jacket he knew you needed this hug more than anything. You pressed your fingers so tightly against the fabric it was squeezing your fingertips.
"Hey, I got you sweetheart", his voice was muffled by the way it was buried in your hair. "I got you. I always got you".
You spent too long holding against him, until you realized you weren't crying anymore, and he let go of you.
He used both his big hands to wipe away your tears and booped your nose, ripping a chuckle out of your mouth.
He took you home and made sure you were doing good as you were going to be by yourself. You didn't know what kind of expression you were holding but then he decided to ask you if you wanted him to stay the night.
And then he was back in your apartment after gathering some belongings to stay over. He made sure he would sleep on the couch so you could be comfortable on your bed.
Your pleading eyes from those hormones almost begged him to lay with you. "God, those puppy eyes are are the death of me", he snorted.
The entire night you didn't wake up once, if it wasn't for your bladder that started working way more than it should. First month was going fine but now it's taking an overturn already.
You asked him to stay over the next day and he decided he would just stay there for the entire week. He stopped smoking next to you, he would leave outside and do it. He was cooking for you, he would give you a foot bath at the end of the day.
Eddie promised he would do his best to make you feel better, to make you feel more comfortable around him, because he used to be so messy in his trailer. He was doing the dishes and washing your clothes.
One day you were both watching TV and he just laid down on your growing baby bump. It was pretty small given you're still like 2 months in. But the way his head rested against your stomach made your skin shiver.
You used one of your hands to play with his hair and a few moments later, you realized he was asleep as you could hear his heavy breath. This was the first time you stopped thinking about Billy too much, you made peace with yourself when Munson was around.
He didn't let you think too much about it anyway, when you were working, he was probably doing some working outside. But when you get home, he's already there, either preparing dinner or just heating it.
Eddie made his way in the depth of your heart when he started playing songs with his acoustic guitar, his husky voice singing in a low tone as you enjoyed your view. Sometimes he would just want to sing you a lullaby before you sleep.
On a Thursday morning, you had an ultrasound appointment and he insisted he was going with you. You didn't have to say no to him because that was him being the most incredible and delicate person towards you.
When he first heard the heartbeat, he almost cursed in front of the nurse, holding back his excitement. Even if he didn't voluntarily offered to become the baby's father, he would still be too shocked and too happy to be there.
Your tears were burning your face when you heard it too, it became harder to breathe when you saw the image in front of you. It was still too early yet to know the sex, but it was fine for you.
As you got home, both holding bags from a burger shop, you sat down on the couch to finally eat something. You got so excited you wanted to buy baby stuff, you had to make a nursery room for them too. It was better to do it now, before you get heavier and can't even walk.
Eddie's eyes were so shiny, he seemed to be so happy to be a part of this schedule of your pregnancy. You finished eating and decided to watch Footloose. He wasn't the biggest fan of movies like that, but he gave in, trying to give it a shot.
"You're not going to tell me you've watched it more than once, are you?", he asked as he made himself comfortable, getting rid of his sneakers, his feet socked.
You laughed as you gave him a smirk, he shook his head. "God, I bet it's because Kevin Bacon is in it".
"Nope, John Laughlin is quite a catch", you respond and Eddie throws you a cushion.
"Who the hell is this guy?". He's the one putting the VHS on while you stretch your legs on the couch.
"I have no idea, but he's hot". The way you giggle makes him shake his head and roll his eyes again.
"You gotta do something about those hormones", Munson plays with you when he sits next to you. This time, he rubs a thumb that's wrapped with a ring against your belly and you feel your skin become numb.
Yeah, you definitely gotta do something about those fucking hormones, otherwise you'll jump on Eddie pretty soon. You shake your thoughts off when he looks at you, his chocolate puppy eyes smiling at you.
He makes his way to your chin and uses the same finger to hold it. You're thinking too fast about the possibility of just kissing him for a moment, but wouldn't that be wrong?
"What is going on in this mind of yours? You keep staring at me like that", he asks. His thumb making circles against your cheek and you flush. Goddammit, you're not even disguising it. He's still looking at you tenderly.
You get closer to his face and hold his hand against yours. Munson holds his gaze while he awaits for your response. "You really wanna know?". He nods. The only way to find out if this is the right thing to do is doing it.
So you graps his lips and slowly make your way into his mouth, your tongue sliding against his teeth as he tries to comprehend your action. Eddie fully lashes his tongue against yours, giving you a warm kiss.
You wanted to deepen it but you think it's too forward, so you stay like that for a while. He then starts to quickly move his tongue, asking permission, and you accept it, exchanging your saliva. There's an iching between your legs and you have to squeeze before it becomes worse.
You broke the kiss as you gasp for air, forcing yourself to open your eyes and look at him. Eddie is still looking at you with compassion, but he's determined to wonder why you did such thing. Before he asks, you cover your face with embarrassment.
"It's the damn hormones, I'm so sorry!", your voice is muffled and he chuckles, thinking you look adorable like that. You hear his low voice saying "hey" as you look at him. He's holding your hand gently.
"That was fucking amazing", he leaves a wet small kiss on your hand before pecking your lips quickly. You start trembling under his touch and realize you need to recover yourself before combusting.
You didn't actually get to watch the movie for the hundreth time and he never got to watch it for the first time. You spent the evening kissing each other with tenderness, he never let go of your face and never made a move on you. Because above everything, he respected you.
A week later you decided it was time to let your other friends know. Nancy was so excited, she knew Jonathan would be thrilled for you since they were planning on having a baby one day. And you know how much Steve and Robin are going to freak out, along with the other kids.
You know your baby bump is starting to show off so it's easier to just tell them now. Why else would you hold that secret from your friends anyway?
Everyone was already gathered by Nancy's house when you showed up with Eddie. He couldn't actually stop his smile from getting wider and wider, which to other people, he looked like a creep. He looked like he had a hanger in his mouth actually.
You asked him to not make a fuss about it but he just wouldn't listen, would he? He whistled with his fingers and everyone looked at your direction. Now they had your attention, you started to feel really embarrassed.
"Everyone, this gang is about to welcome a freaking baby!", he said it naturally and everyone inside the room shouted "what" in unisson. Nancy was trying to hold back a laugh and Jonathan seemed pretty impressed. But other than that, the others were all shocked.
"You got (Y/N) pregnant?", Steve had a high pitched voice when he asked. You laughed so hard at the way everyone else just looked at you.
"No, but better me than Billy Hargrove", you punch his shoulder so hard he flinches. "What was that for?"
"You what?", Robin was the one yelling now. "Wait, sit down. Congratulations, honey! But shit, Billy Hargrove?".
You're so lost into all the buzz you don't know where to start. Then you take a deep breath and explain what actually happened. Max is still disappointed at her brother, but she was so happy she was about to become an aunt.
"Holy fucki-", Dustin opened his mouth but Eddie cut him off.
"We're not cursing in front of the baby!", everyone just snorted and threw cushions towards him.
"Jesus, (Y/N). You know Hargrove was always a dickhead", Steve is the one saying it, but he looks at Max. She shrugs her shoulders, she knows he's not the best catch. "How could you just fuck that guy?".
"Again, not cursing in front of a child", Eddie was playful this time and Harrington was not in the mood for that, apparently.
You made sure you wouldn't cry about it anymore. You tell them you were mad drunk and didn't remember about the pill the day after. And the day after that, it just slipped from your head. The way they reacted when Max said he didn't care about it made you feel warm.
They all made sure you were better off without him anyway, otherwise he would probably make your life miserable. And then, enters Eddie Munson.
"You just offered to be the father? Like out of nowhere?", Mike asks while the metalhead still holds a grin on his face. It might give him cramps on his cheek from smiling too much. He nods and holds you by your side, rubbing his spread hand on your belly.
"This little peanut is going to be a freaking Munson!", you rolls your eyes at his statement.
"Easy with the ego Eddie, it only gets your name if we're married". You barely finish saying it and he's already on his knees for you.
You hear everybody in the room complain about his suggestion and you snort.
"God's sake Eddie. You're such a babygirl", Jonathan jokes and he doesn't care about the mocking.
"I'm not marrying you Eddie. Or at least not yet". You're still feeling your stomach sore from laughing too much at the whole situation.
"I don't care, I'm going to get you either way". He crashes his lips against yours in front of your friends and they all make different sounds. You're amused by this, but you're still confused about your relationship with him.
You and your friends enjoy the evening listening to music, eating and playing games. They all make sure you get the priority as the pregnant one and Dustin starts thinking about names for the baby. It's so sweet to see the kids talking to your belly, mocking each other and joking around.
From the corner of your eyes, you see how Eddie can't stop staring at you, he's holding a kind gaze towards you as you smile to the kids. Max is completely melted when she talks to the baby, using her index finger to poke you slightly.
When you're next to Steve, he starts joking about the fact he can lend you movies for free now. He says he wishes he was still working at Scoops Ahoy so he could give the child all the free ice cream, for as much as it wanted and it melts you.
Munson straightens his torso when he sees the way Harrington is slipping his hand up and down your stomach, his face too close to your skin as you feel his breath fanning it. He watches as you hold your head back to laugh at something he just said.
Suddenly he feels like he could be the one to do that to you, but then he realizes he's been the one doing that for the past few days. He watches the way you hold your belly without noticing when you're talking to someone else, the way you're glowing when you talk about your pregnancy.
He can't help but smile at himself, knowing he's a part of that glow. He's not doing it because he feels bad for you, he's doing it because he loves and cares for you, maybe more so than you know.
After that kiss he's started to think about the way you've been treating each other. You've been spending so much time together it only made him feel more attached to you. By now, he's experiencing a sudden jealously looking at Steve. You don't even touch him, you just sit there and watch him talk to your belly.
Robin comes closer to you and kisses your entire stomach, she smushes your belly and you hold her head. She's being so ridiculously sweet it's irritading, in a very good way, because you just loved her so much.
The entire night you were being spoiled by everyone, even Mike was being less quiet as he would just chat with your belly. You know you were going to be sore from laughing at the way Henderson was treating you all the time, the way he was chatting with your stomach and how he would just respond back like the baby was talking to him.
You were picking some slice of pizza in the kitchen as Eddie approached you, leaning against the kitchen island. He watched as you heated the food, waiting by the microwave.
"This is amazing, right?", you ask as you lean next to him.
"Yeah, their pizza is so good I could eat it in one bite!". He knows you're not talking about the pizza but can't not joke about that. "You should see yourself. You're literally glowing".
The microwave beeps but you're in a whole other world now. He catches one stray of your hair pulling it behind your ear and your skin burns against his touch. You can't help but wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head on the crook of his neck.
You love how he smells like weed and cologne, a slight scent of alcohol in his breath makes you dizzy. You're looking up because you're shorter than him, nuzzling his nose.
"Thank you for being so wonderful to me, my cherie amour", he's feeling like he's under a spell when you say that. You always call him like that when your angry or when you're sarcastic to him.
He gives you a sudden kiss, pecking your lips slowly. Eddie makes a trail of kisses on your cheeks, rubbing the tip of his nose on your ear, where he knows you feel like jelly. He breathes out and you shiver.
He chuckles against your ear because he sure knows how to tame you. The microwave beeps again and you break the contact, leaving him behind.
"You're too fucking sneaky, Munson", you grab your plate and you give him a threatful look.
"Honey, you just cursed in front of the baby!", he mocked you and received a hand towel you tried to throw against his face in response.
You couldn't control yourself after that moment with him. You kept creating different scenarios in your head where you end up in bed with him, because that's just how you were feeling. It was undeniable to admit you were feeling things for him, not just because of your pregnancy, obviously.
You decided to hold your thoughts about him when you came back home, but the entire drive he would slip one hand on your thigh and slightly squeeze it. He would look away from the streets to charmingly smile at you.
You don't hold yourself back when you get home, when you watch him changing clothes in your bedroom you make your way to him and just take your clothes off behind him. Eddie only then notices that you're undressing when he turns over and watches you staring at him.
There's lust in your eyes and an indescribable expression he couldn't figure out just yet. It was the first time he was honestly seeing you in your lingerie and God, he fucking loves it. The way your baby bump accents with the thin waistband of your underwear around your hip makes him lightheaded.
He grabs you by the neck with one hand using the other one to grip your waist, tightly against his caloused fingertips from playing too much guitar. You moan against his lips and you feel his boxer tighten from the growing bulge. You wrap your fingers in a handful of his hair and hear him groan from the pleasure it gives him.
He gently lays you down on your bed and spreads kisses on your inner thigh, slowly pulling away your lingerie. He doesn't look at you at first, but when he does, you watch his pupils dilated as his eyes flicker when he licks your delicate skin.
You purr when he leaves a wet trace close to your folds and his cock twitches as you gasp when his tongue finally savor your core. He keeps a low pace because he wants to feel every inch of you in his mouth, he makes his way to your entrance and slowly tongue fuck you, watching with bliss the way you pull his hair by your hands.
Munson is glad he's on his knees by the bed, otherwise he would become numb from his view, watching as your baby bump rises when you arch your back.
He raises one hand to tangle his fingers with yours and licks you widely. In one sweet motion on your clit he gets to make you whine his name and he needs to take his cock out of his boxer.
God, he's tasting your folds and it's just so sweet he can't get enough of it. He listens to you hissing when he sucks your skin raw and pulls back, your throbbing clit flickers against his mouth and he feels your entrance soaking from pleasure.
Eddie mumbles against your core and you can't help but cry his name. "Oh, Eddie", he works his tongue faster this time, using the tip to play with your sensitive clit. You're so horny you already feel the heat building up so fast into your body you have to squeeze your legs, closing them around his head.
He notices your action and starts leaving a huge amount of kisses on your stomach, enveloping you with kindness, he's never getting tired of cherishing you and your bump.
He manages to unhook your bra with one hand and smirks when you roll your eyes at him, smiling. Eddie opens the drawer of his nightstand and grabs a condom. He knows it's not necessary but he wants to make this the right way with you.
He kneeling above you after getting rid of his underwear and you're fascinated by how pretty his cock is. The tip is already crying with precum, warming himself up while looking at you. He holds the protection in front of him as he's about to mock you in the sweetest way.
"I know we don't need it but", he shakes the plastic as he shows you the latex. "This is a condom. We use it for protection so we don't get pregnant".
You're so annoyed with him but his voice is deep as he places the material on his tip. "See, kid, your mommy probably didn't know about its existance. When you're here, please make sure you learn about it's significance".
He said as he rolls the protection on his length, the way you're soaking for him now is unbearable. You're still repeating the way he says "mommy" over and over again in your head and you almost miss it when he places his tip in your entrance.
He sucumbs into you so slowly it sends shivers through your entire body and you hiss at him. He leans forward to kiss you gently but you can't stop your moans against his mouth.
He pushes further into you and holds your hip tightly. You grip both his arms as you try to look at him, enjoying the moment.
"Can you talk dirty to me?", you ask suddenly. It just rolls out of your mouth. Eddie is static for a moment because he wasn't expecting it.
"I mean, I can try. You heard before, I am a babygirl", he says as he thrusts into you, hitting your cervix, and you cry. He feels his cock twitch by the sound you make and groans back. "Fuck, you're taking me so well".
You started to feel dizzy by his words, he leaned closer to your ear and you trembled under him. He deepened inside you and rolled his hips against you, making you whine in his ear. "Mommy is such a good girl for daddy".
Munson isn't really one of dirty talking, but he realizes you have a kink and you're so into it, you're probably going to cum soon. He just keeps listening to your blissful slurs as he keeps pumping you, his thick length is rubbing against your wall so deliciously.
"Fuck, you're so horny, huh? You're hungry for me, aren't you?", he sped up and you squinted your eyes, taking him enterily, swallowing his throbbing cock.
You nod but this isn't enough for him, he wants words. He wants you to whisper against his ear. He wants to make sure you're desperate for his cock. When he grabs your jawline and make you look at him, Eddie gives you a lustful kiss, his tongue quickly scraping yours. His mouth open as he moans against you.
"I didn't hear you before, honey", he demands through your lips. "You're fucking hungry for me, aren't you?". It's so vicious you just wanted to listen to him talking to you like that all night.
"Yes, Eddie", you were barely breathing as you feel your climax reaching its highest point. You're gonna come for him like you have never come before, because being pregnant made you feel every sensation to it's maximum.
"God, you're coming already. So wet, you're dripping sweetheart", he couldn't stop grunting on your ear and it made you squeeze your walls so tight against his dick he couldn't hold a gasp.
You started shuddering when you felt a shockwave of pleasure take up your entire body, your veins pumping your blood so fast you almost fainted under him. Your legs were so weak they fell on the sheets as Munson watched you fall apart in front of him.
As you gasp for air and try to catch a breath, you stare at the brown eyed man who's still pumping you, reaching his own climax. Eddie doesn't get too far from you and he gushes inside the condom, his dick throbs wonderfully inside you. He scrapes your lower lip against his teeth as he makes his final thrusts before he laid on you.
You take a few minutes to recover from the madness you've experienced, while Eddie cleaned himself up. He made his way to his side of the bedroom and spooned you, resting one hand on your baby bump again.
"Should we make this thing official? I'm not gonna lie here, I would love to live every moment like this with you. And I know it's mad forward, but this has been such an amazing week", he said as he leaned his head on the crook of your neck, smelling your scent.
"I would love to, too. But don't get too excited, the kid doesn't get your name yet. And you cursed A LOT during sex", you turn your head to face him and he's looking at you like he's about to defend himself.
"You asked me to talk dirty to you!", you chuckle at his response and he rubs your stomach. "I'm sorry, kid. Sorry, daddy will promise he's keeping it just G next time".
You can't help but kiss him all over as he pinches your sides, tickling you until you beg him to stop. For the next hour, you lie in bed, cuddling, dialoging about how you're taking this relationship to the next step.
Before you fall asleep, you realize how just his warmth makes you feel safe around him. You realize your baby is going to have a better father than it was supposed to. You're just glad you didn't give up on it before telling him the truth.
733 notes · View notes
sundaycentric · 4 months ago
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sfw alphabet with sunday? :3
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ᵋᵌ sfw alphabet 𓈒   ◟  sunday x reader  ♡
content — 26 prompts for sunday ! ✦ no tws, sfw, not proofread. set pre 2.3 ~ 3k words
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template from the-coldest-goodbye !
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Sunday's affection depends on the situation. Some days he won't initiate any affection (though, he will reciprocate yours), while on others, he will borderline smother you.
On the average day, Sunday tends to not show a lot of affection. This isn't because he doesn't want to, but because he can't. Due to his status as Head of the Oak Family, PDA is a no. Since he works a lot and is in public—or at least in the eyes of someone a lot, Sunday doesn't do much affection. The most he'll willingly allow in public is holding hands, or a brief kiss on the back of your hand.
However, it is a different story when the two of you finally get away from the gazes of everyone. When it is just the two of you, Sunday can be awfully affectionate. While he hesitates about initiating them sometimes, Sunday adores hugs and small kisses.
When he comes home to you on some days, he often peppers your face with small kisses before cuddling you to sleep. Sunday's hands prefer to hook around your waist while his face will either find itself in your neck or hair.
B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Sunday would be the type of best friend to give the perfect advice: the type of friend whom you'd trust with your life.
He'd definitely try his best to look out for you, especially if he considered you one of his best friends (one of, since robin will always be a best friend to him as well). If you have any troubles, you could come to him, and either get a flat-out solution or amazing advice.
With that being said, though, the two of you would barely ever go out together. Since you are just friends, Sunday will often prioritize getting his work done over hanging out you. It isn't that he doesn't want to see you, it's simply that he values his identity and the Family too much to risk anything. Of course, you will occasionally be able to hang out longer than 30 minutes or so.
As for how the friendship starts, it would be most likely that you are part of the Family as well. Perhaps not the Oak Family, but at least some other family which would explain why you could be around so much. Or possibly, the two of you just met at random, and Sunday enjoyed your company.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
As said in A, Sunday enjoys cuddling his partner to sleep. Although, it doesn't necessarily have to be at night. Anywhere comfy where the two of you are alone is fine with him. Though, he may not initiate it if he isn't tired.
As for how he cuddles, he doesn't care much. Sometimes he will hug you, pulling your faces next to each other. Sometimes he will spoon you. Sometimes he will be spooned. Sometimes he will just have you lie on top of him. The position does not matter to him as long as he can have you in his arms.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Sunday does not necessarily mind the idea of settling down and living a peaceful life, but he can't bring himself to actually imagine himself living a life like that. He is so used to his work and life as is, that he doesn't know what he would do without it. As stressful as it is, it brings a sense of control and routine to calm him.
And especially with his plans. Settling down with you would be practically impossible. While part of him does yearn for a domestic, calm life with you, Sunday also knows that he must do what he needs to do. He will gently (and reluctantly) lie to you, telling you that one day the two of you will settle down. What you don't know cannot hurt you, so it's for the best.
As for domestic talents, Sunday can cook and clean. However, he does not frequently, as he has people to do that for him. Sometimes, though, he may cook a meal for you or Robin.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
I'm actually unsure.
He'd do it very gently, making sure to not hurt their feelings too much. After all, even if it doesn't seem like it, Sunday is very susceptible others' pains. Especially those who were (once) close to him. Although, he would also be firm enough to get his point across and not give any hope.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Sunday dates with the full intention of getting married to them one day. It's simply how he was raised: he was taught to never date for fun, but rather out of love. He looks forward to eventually marrying you, or he is very happy with your marriage if the two of you are married already.
Sunday does not want to rush things, though. He believes that time matters, and he sees no need to rush with such a sweet dream. He will propose when the time is right—whenever that may be for him. Perhaps it's only months away, perhaps a year or two. He would not go years without proposing, though.
And if you proposed, then he would accept even if it was only months after you got together. Sunday waits not because he is unsure, but to give you time. Again: Sunday dates for marriage. As soon as the two of you begin your relationship, he is ready for marriage.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Sunday tries to be as gentle as he can with you, while still being stern when needed. His touches are fleeting and soft, a light caress on your skin. His words are soothing and quiet, putting your mind and soul at ease. His gaze is intense enough to be noticed, but soft enough for you to feel adored. Sunday makes a point to always be gentle with you.
And even when Sunday gets stern and mad, he never snaps at you. In fact, he never gets truly 'mad' at you, he is that gentle. His emotions are soft and he makes sure to never overwhelm you with his own feelings.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
As mentioned before, Sunday adores hugs. He enjoys the feeling of holding you, having you right in his arms like you'd try to get away if he let go. He will hug you when the two of you are in the privacy of your home, and perhaps give little side hugs in public.
His hugs are warm but tight. He will pull you close, practically squishing the two of you together like he is trying to meld you into one. Despite the intensity, it's comfortable and secure.
I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Sunday says 'I love you' a lot and in many different ways.
He will try to say it slowly, to truly get the meaning and deepness of his affection across. When like this, Sunday tries to pair his words with gentle physical affection.
Sometimes, though, he will be forced to hurry up. He cannot always take his sweet time, but Sunday figures something is better than nothing. When he has to quickly depart, he will whisper a hushed 'I love you' in the few seconds he has before he'll be late.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Sunday does not get very outwardly jealous. He is secure with you, or at least tells himself that he is. However, Sunday is extremely anxious, and he cannot help but overthink sometimes. Of course, he knows you would never leave or cheat.
A lot of the time, his jealousy will silently brew. The only indication you will get of his jealousy is his slightly more possessive actions. A hand lingers on your side longer than normal. His glances become more narrowed and longer. His tone gets a bit snappy when people talk to the two of you. And his wings: his wings will puff up and raise instinctively at times.
He will never admit he is jealous without heavy prompting, though. The best thing to do is not say anything about it, but showering him in affection and attention. He will calm down as quick as it came, his mind soothed by your presence.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Sunday's kisses are always gentle. Never rough or demanding: only smooth and soft. He doesn't like being mean: he wouldn't want to hurt your pretty lips, or the rest of you for that matter.
Sunday likes kissing you on the lips, all over the face, and the back of your hand. Those are usually his go-to spots, but you may notice him pressing soft kisses to your neck or shoulders occasionally. Although, Sunday would enjoy kissing you anywhere if we are being honest.
Sunday also doesn't mind where you kiss him. He likes all your kisses, regardless of where they are. But, his favorites are likely his lips, face, and weirdly with wings. Be soft and gentle with them, though. They are quite sensitive.
L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)
Sunday is very gentle with children. He rarely interacts with them due to being busy, and his job not requiring him to work with them, but he always makes sure to be extra nice when one talks to him.
However, Sunday enjoys watching you interact with children more than actually doing it himself. He adores the sight of you being kind to something so small, something that the two of you might end up having one day however that may be.
Sunday vows to himself to be the best father in the world if that ever does happen.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
It's 50/50: sometimes Sunday is gone by morning, sometimes he is still there.
When he is gone, he always makes sure to leave some sort of note or text telling you why he left so early, where he is, and apologizing. He will also leave food or instructions for chefs to make food for you to make sure you're well-fed as soon as you get up.
When he is there, the two of you wake up tangled together. He will always reach out to gently touch your face as if checking if you're really there. After all, you're too beautiful for this world. You can't stay in bed forever, though, so these moments of soft intimacy are a bit short.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
As mentioned before, Sunday enjoys cuddling you to sleep. Most days, he will not be home by night-time.
He'll gently slip into your room, and then into your shared bed. On these days, he typically ends up spooning you as he doesn't want to force his way into your arms and wake you up.
If you are awake when he gets home, or if he gets home early enough to go to bed with you, he will still cuddle you. The positions will range, though, as there is no threat of waking you up. He doesn't mind being big or little spoon, or whatever you want to do. As long as he is touching you somehow, he will fall asleep.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Sunday does not open up all at once.
It will take time, and it will be slow. He doesn't say everything in one moment, and there are likely things he will never end up telling you. It isn't you: he simply fears. After all, he is the Head of the Oak Family, and he must always be careful. It will probably take a while before Sunday even opens up about his basic childhood.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Sunday barely gets angry or upset with you.
However, he can get snappy much easier with other people. Especially when they are insulting you or his dear sister.
His anger usually comes in passive aggressiveness, so it may be hard to catch on to at first. Even if you do notice, he will usually deny being mad until much pushing.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He remembers everything about you. Anything you say immediately goes to memory.
Sunday is attentive no matter the topic. Your favorite color? He knows. Your favorite animal? He knows. Your favorite song? He knows. Your favorite place? He knows. Your favorite food? He knows. Your favorite crystal? He knows. Your favorite flower? He knows. He remembers and knows them all and more by heart.
Every little thing you mention, if he deems it important (which includes almost everything about you), he will remember it or at the least write it down for future reference.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Sunday's favorite memory is the aftermath of your first dinner date. When the two of you were leaving the restaurant, there was a baby bird on the ground. No nest seemed to be in sight, and no mother as well. You were immediately concerned and checked on the baby bird. The mother bird came rushing out of seemingly nowhere and shooed your hand away.
It was funny, but also endearing to Sunday. To see you so eager to help that baby bird, he couldn't help but feel soft and remember something similar from when he was younger.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Sunday is very protective of you, but in an unnoticeable way. He'll check up on you regularly, make sure you're all okay and don't need anything, and look out for you. Due to his position in the Family, it isn't hard for him to get guards to look out for you and make sure you're alright from time to time.
As for you protecting him: he thinks it's cute, and appreciates the sentiment. While it is a bit useless of you to do, since he already has Bloodhound guards, he won't discourage your behavior. Unless it becomes disruptive, in which case he'll try to reel you in.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Maximum effort.
These things are very important to Sunday, who (as mentioned previously) was raised to date with love. That includes the devotion expected of a good husband, of course. It also comes from his OCD: he must be very meticulous to make sure everything is perfect and controlled.
Dates are at reputable, higher-end places and focus on things he knows you'll enjoy. Anniversaries are never forgotten, and he always gets beautiful gifts for you. His gifts consist of a variety of things: he could never gift you the same thing twice. And Sunday makes a great effort to care for you.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He is controlling.
Not necessarily just with you, but in general. If things aren't perfect, Sunday will be on edge. If he makes a mistake, Sunday will crack slightly. If he does anything wrong, he won't forgive himself.
Even with things that seem like a small deal: if the tiniest detail is off, he will be upset.
Which can lead to lots of time wasted as he redoes his hair over and over because one strand was out of place, or when he washes his hands multiple times because he didn't wash it the right way the first time, or when he had to check in a hallway multiple times.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Very concerned. Not because he thinks he is ugly: but rather, he needs to make sure he looks perfect. Not a strand can be out of place, no wrinkles in his clothes, nothing can be wrong as soon as he steps out of the house.
However, when alone with you, he doesn't care that much for looking perfect like a doll.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He would feel incomplete without you. You do make him feel whole.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
His wings give way to his true feelings. If he's happy, his wings will spread out. If he's sad, his wings will falter. If he's mad, his wings will puff out and appear bigger. If you can't read his face, read his wings.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
The only thing I can think of is cruelty. Sunday, despite his flaws, is not a cruel person, nor does he condone cruel actions or people.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Like I've mentioned, he tends to cuddle when he sleeps.
Another thing, though: his wings will move on their own in Sunday's sleep. similarly to sleepwalking, in a way, just with his wings! Which ends up tickling you, sometimes.
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