#should get smacked to fall asleep
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reignpage · 1 month ago
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Quick! Go Hide
in which you prank the sleeping jjk men by telling them, 'You need to hide; my boyfriend's home!'...saw it on tiktok heh
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Satoru croaks, “Oh, shit. He is?” 
Groggily, he clambers out of bed and hides in the bathroom, bare feet padding. In the dark, he waits. Seconds pass and he shows no sign of realising what games you’re playing. When you go to collect him, you find him asleep, standing with his forehead pressed to the cold tile, drooling. 
“Is he gone?” He asks, voice raspy, shaken awake once again. You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “Good ‘cause I’m too tired to fight anyone…I’d win though.” 
Soon after, in bed, he continues sleeping. And it’s only in the morning that you find him grinning and prodding your puffy cheek. “That was really funny, babe. Ten out of ten. No notes.”
Suguru's brows furrow. Without opening his eyes, he mutters, “Nice try.”
“No, really. You gotta go; he’ll kill you.” A curse emerges, large and foreboding, just watching in the corner of the room. Shivers wrack your body. It doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, nor utter a single sound. Still, the message is clear. You roll your eyes and cuddle into your boyfriend’s side. “You’re no fun.”
He tucks you in close. “Try again in the morning, pretty girl. I’m sure I’ll be more fun when I’m not half asleep.”
Choso startles awake, bloodshot eyes widening. “Oh no. What should we do?”
He lets you shove him into the closet, shirtless and hair a mess. There he stands patiently, shuffling on his feet and holding his breath. Then, when a minute passes, he has a moment of realisation. Creaking open, the closet door widens to reveal him – he looks unimpressed…and pouty. 
“I’m your only boyfriend; why do I need to hide?”
You giggle. “Sorry, Cho. It was just a joke.’
“I don’t really see what’s funny,” he grouches as he gets back into bed with you, wrapping his arms tight around your body and tucking his head in the crook of your neck, quickly forgetting your prank once his senses are overwhelmed with you. 
Toji peeks one eye at your faux panicked face. He shoves it away, grumbling under his breath about how much of a brat you are and shifts into a different position; he’s got his back turned to you now. Undeterred, you shake him one more time. “I’m being serious. You gotta hide, Toji.”
“Leave me alone, woman. I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now.”
You drape your entire body over his. His beefy arm comes around to keep you steady, in case you fall off the bed with your clumsy ass. “Okay, but if he beats you up and takes me away, your loss.”
He grunts. “I’d like to see anyone try.”
Then, to keep your mouth from disturbing his sleep any longer, he suffocates your face in between his pecs, a hand on your ass, groping it for compensation.
Kento jolts, hands grabbing you to push your body behind his. He scans the room, then the door, waits for the intruder, ready to defend. Only when he hears your stifled laughter does he truly process what you told him. He sighs, hand rubbing down his face. “Can’t sleep again, darling?”
“No. The baby keeps kicking me.” You smile when his warm palm caresses your stomach. 
Leaving a kiss on your forehead, he mutters, “I’ll give them a stern talking to; no child of mine hurts my wife. Now, would you like a midnight snack or should we stay up and watch the stars again?”
Lifted out of bed, he carries you in his arms, intent on keeping your bare feet from touching the cold floor. Even as sleep still courses through his veins, he’s determined to meet your every need – Kento couldn’t fall asleep again knowing you’re wide awake anyway. 
Sukuna doesn’t awaken. He’s as still as a corpse. You try again. And again. Nothing. When you pout and smack his chest, one of his four arms snatches your waist and slides you onto his huge body. Your ass is being patted, as is your head, and with another arm, he rubs your back. 
Calmly, his chest rumbles with his words. “All your previous partners are dead. No one will disturb us. Sleep.”
“Okay, Kuna…wait…no, they aren’t.”
He doesn’t reply, leaving you to wonder when he had the time to hunt them down one by one since he spends so much time never leaving your side in the first place. No answer comes to mind; his body can be so persuasive in pulling you to the land of slumber with him. Though, you are certain he whispers, ‘They will be,’ once he thinks you won’t hear. Try and follow up the next day however and he’ll shrug off your concerns with a, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
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novaimperia · 22 days ago
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★ asking roommate!sukuna to give you some space. literally.
“don’t you think if i could, i would have by now?” he fires back in a drawl, rolling his eyes. 
right now, you two are squished together in a dark supply closet in the campus atrium, bodies pressed so tightly there’s barely any room to breathe. you keep hushed, listening out for any shuffling less than a metre from where you are holed up with your roommate; the door’s locked and there’d be no reason to suspect you’re both in here but neither of you want to take the chance.
because, outside the door, is a girl with a furious appetite for revenge. she had seen you in the hallway around the corner and questioned you. apparently, your roommate owed her a date on friday night but he hadn’t turned up. that was the third time he’d made a promise to her he didn’t keep. not one for the drama, you were intent on keeping yourself out of it, but because the universe hates you, she narrowed her eyes and said that her friends saw you and him coming out of a movie theatre that very evening. 
of course she didn’t listen when you stammered that you didn’t plan to be there with him. you just wanted to be dropped off because it was late but then, for reasons you can’t really imagine, he chose to stay. she didn’t believe you. a ping went off. distracted with her phone for a moment, you skedaddled out of there, wanting to keep your head on your shoulders for a little longer. in comical fashion, when turning the corner, you saw the second person she has on her kill list. 
things quickly got out of hand after that. 
he didn’t fight very much when you yanked him in here nor did he seem very surprised to hear that a girl was out to get him. 
“ugh, where did she go?” the scorned woman screeches. “i’m gonna beat that whore up, i swear. she totally stole sukuna from me.”
‘stolen’ man huffs in amusement. you smack his chest.
she must be on the phone. briefly, you wonder how many people are building up hatred for you on campus by the simple virtue of living with the pink haired promise-breaker. guess his reputation is contagious. crossing your figures, you hope this won’t be a regular occurrence. and, showing no signs of leaving, if the frustrated stomping of feet pacing the hallway is anything to go by, your head slumps against sukuna’s chest in defeat. innocent of all charges, you’re not sure why you felt the need to hide, much less with him when he should be facing the consequences of his actions on his own. 
it’s not as if he deserves your protection – the stubborn bastard won’t move back just an inch even though he obviously knows he’s threatening to flatten you out like a bug against the wall with his towering body.
“just text her an apology or something,” you hiss. 
you can’t see it but you do feel his pierced brow quirk up. “i’m not gonna apologise ‘cause she can’t take a fucking hint. woman’s been hounding me since forever.”
“well, maybe you shouldn’t be asking her out and then flaking. ever thought of that?” mumbling against his shirt, you’re forced to breathe him in. he smells of burnt wood, the leather strap of a guitar, and nicotine. it’s both exhilarating and calming; you’re gonna fall asleep at this rate. 
something gentle and calloused brushes your hair away from your face. it lulls you deeper into slumber. his words vibrate against your cheek, a little aggressive with a tinge of vulnerability. “i didn’t. she made those plans on her own. don’t wanna go on a date with her.”
“oh.”
minutes pass. you can’t hear anything outside anymore. neither of you rush out. despite how cramped the fit is, it’s oddly comfortable. on second thoughts, maybe you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day here. with him. 
“quit fucking moving; you’re practically humping me a like a dog.”
never mind. 
you flick his nipple in retaliation and yelp when metal meets fingernail. he snorts. a little embarrassed, you retort, “you have a boner pressed right up against my stomach – who’s really the dog here, s’kuna?”
shoving him away, you emerge from the storage closet and take a deep inhale of relatively fresh air. she’s not here anymore. good. hopefully you won’t run into her for a while. you look back. your roommate doesn’t step out, instead he flexes his jaw and rolls his shoulder back, avoiding your eye. the tips of his ears are pink. gruffly, he mutters, “go ahead. wait by my car. i’ll be out in a sec.”
blink. blink.
a sponge smacks into your face when you laugh like a madwoman.
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nanamisbbygirl · 1 month ago
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whenever you sleep over at toji's place you end up falling asleep in one of his old black t-shirts, void of the panties you entered with. it doesn't matter what you're doing the next day, if you have lectures or a shift a work, it's a very familiar routine.
you always wake up against his morning wood, subconsciously rocking back on him until he's so fed up with your slutty behavior that he has to nudge you awake.
"rise 'n shine, kiddo." he grumbles with that familiar groggy morning voice. you groan, not wanting to wake up just let, but he only continues "you slept in, you're gonna be late for class."
"i don't care," you mutter, "can you give me a ride?"
"not today, princess, got called in for a job." you groan again, wiggiling towards his dick. toji only grunts, "nope, no time for that right now. whaddya want to eat?"
"you."
"be serious, no brat talk right now." you huff at his sternness. he can see your little pout and tries making it up to you, "later, i promise. now really, should i make a bagel?"
"yes please," you hum.
"you got it," he gives your butt a smack, "now get your lazy ass up."
part two
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nighttimealone · 10 months ago
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Cw: Nsfw
Taking one of Simon’s balaclava from the closet, inhaling the lingering musk snd cologne scent while rubbing your pussy needily on the bedsheet. He went on a short mission for a few days, and you missed him, miss how he call you sweetheart with that gruff voice, miss how he sit you on his lap, murmuring sweet nothings while his hand
sneaks pass the waistband of your panties, pinching and flicking your clit to warm you up for his big cock, miss how his veiny and sturdy arms wrap around you while you fall asleep while basking in each other’s presence.
You kiss the balaclava on where his lips should be, but that’s not enough, the ache in your chest leads you to scramble to the closet again, taking out a pair of his skeleton gloves, putting those far-too-large gloves on as you slump down on the bed you two shared again, mimicking how he kneaded and rolled the sweet spot hidden between your slick folds, until you finally reach your high, dampening his gloves with your juices.
You tuck the used balaclava and gloves deep inside a discreet drawer, welcoming Simon back home the next day. He got a crazy amount of gloves and balaclava, sure he wouldn’t notice missing a pair or two, right? You try to convince yourself, till the day you think you finally get a chance to wash those fabric stained with the evidence of your guilty pleasure, that he appears behind you silently and catch you scrubbing them.
You have no one to blame other than yourself when getting put over his knees moments later, pajamas shorts pulled down, ass in the air and whining every time he lands a light slap on your reddened buttocks.
“Think I wouldn’t notice, hmm?” He rubs the spot he just hit gently, soothing that delicious tingle briefly “How many times did you come with my balaclava and my gloves?”
You look back at him, trying to respond with the vibrating dildo deep inside your squelching cunt messing your mind. “One ti-One- ngh…” your incoherentness brings yourself another slap, this time land carefully just above your stretched cunt and on the clit.
“Say it clearly, princess, can’t understand when you’re talking in moans.” Simon rubs your skin after the soft smack again, just like what he did whenever he gives you a teasing slap, but him rolling your over-sensitive bud that just got a sweet slap, only flares up your desire and makes you unable to think straight, his fingers and the dildo occupied your thoughts as you manage to answer more comprehensibly.
“One…only one time…” Your staccato reply receives a feign pity glance from him.
“Only one time? poor girl.” He grabs the base of the vibrating dildo and thrust in and out “Look how you lube this dildo with your juices so well, love. Finally satisfied?”
“No! No…please…” You paw at the bedsheets desperately, happy that he might end his ‘punishment’ soon, yet afraid that you won’t get the thing you truly craved. “Need you, Simon, please…! need you inside”
He grins imperceptibly, though the arrogance in his heart is satiated. That’s what he wants to hear, hear you say out loud about how much you need him, how only him can fuck you in the way others can’t.
Pulling the dildo out, seeing how your cunt grabbing onto it like you try to swallow it back in, he fish out his cock, standing straight and leaking profusely from enjoying the show “No need to feel empty for the lost, sweetheart, you’ll get what you deserve now.”
Simon press the tip of his length at your entrance, looking at you with smugness within those brown eyes, and he knows it’s going to be a long night when you gaze back with droopy eyes, still coming down from the edge, with a bliss-out smile spread across your glossy lips.
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endlessapples · 3 months ago
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Summer's Paradise | 1 The Warmth
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xia yizhou | caleb x reader
synopsis:
Waking up in a different world where you have to pretend you have amnesia to get by is one thing. Waking up in a different world where you're married to a complete stranger and have to pretend you have amnesia is another. Yet, this stranger seems to know you well. Too well. And with everything this world seems to be hiding from you, he's the only one you can bring yourself to trust. But when distrust wedges itself between you and your newfound connection with this stranger-turned-husband, you begin to doubt if you can ever find a way to leave this world and return back to yours.
tags: eventual smut, amnesia, eventual forced imprisonment, transmigration, yandere!caleb, dark!caleb, domestic fluff (weirdly enough), manipulation, themes of forceful confinement, slight angst, married!au
word count: 5.1k
1 the warmth | 2 the smoke | 3 the heat
When you wake up in the hospital, blearing white light fills up your vision. And when it clears, your gaze settles on a stranger sleeping on your small cot.
He’s entirely too big for the room. You can see that from the uncomfortable position he’s in, on his knees and bent over so that he can keep his head propped up on your bed. His hat, black to match the uniform he’s in and broad-capped, rests next to his feet.
And then you look down and realize that he’s clutching your hand tightly in his. Even though he’s asleep, you notice almost aimlessly that his grip is so tight that you’re almost certain blood isn’t even properly flowing to your fingers anymore. You try to wiggle your fingers. Yup, an hour more and you’d probably lose that hand.
He twitches. And then he jolts up, almost knocking his head against yours. His eyes are shockingly purple—the shade of the night sky of the last sunset of summer, right after the sun dips below the horizon.
Your mouth gapes open in shock, and you almost fall back. His reflexes are quick—before your head even dips down, he’s already caught you by your waist and settled you back down on the bed. Gently. Cautiously.
“Whoa there, Pipsqueak!” he laughs. And then concern flashes through his eyes, and his hands have reached up to cup your cheeks. His touch is slightly warm. His voice softens all of a sudden. “How are you feeling?”
You flush under his intense scrutiny. He’s really a handsome man. Pause, you mentally smack yourself, this man is a stranger and he’s in your hospital room!
Wait, why are you in a hospital room?
You remember your desk at your apartment. You had been running off of no sleep and pushing towards an all-nighter, scanning through papers and spreadsheets desperately to meet your project’s deadline. And you remember setting an alarm for a 20-minute nap. And then you fell asleep...and now you were in the hospital?
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, finally finding your voice. You crane your neck to try to move out of his grip. “Um, who are you?”
He pauses. He looks hurt, concerned, sad, and weirdly enough, almost numb to your words. He withdraws his hands from your face.
“I’m Caleb.” A smile strains onto his face, almost like it was rehearsed and repeated, at the blank expression on your face. “Xia Yizhou.”
Caleb. Xia. The characters ring with familiarity in your head for a second. And then the feeling is gone.
“I’m—,” you begin to say, but before you’ve even finished saying your name, it’s already fallen off his lips.
Weird. How did he know your name? Alarm bells are ringing in your head all of a sudden. Just because he’s a good-looking guy doesn’t mean you should be okay with him being all up in your personal space. After all, he could be a killer or a weirdo. A good-looking one at that. And you’re his next bed-bound victim.
Your gaze falls down, and you begin to notice the band-aids wrapped tightly around you. One peek down the collar of your hospital pajamas has you noticing that even your chest is wrapped with white gauze. Even underneath your sleeve, you can see the band-aids. And your palms, on closer look, there’s a scab over your healing scrapes.
“Did I get hit by a car or something?” you muttered to yourself.
The stranger—Caleb, you correct yourself in your mind—shakes his head fiercely. “You got attacked by wanderers. When you were with me. I...” He stops speaking and drops his head.
Wanderers?
You stare at him even more blankly. And then your hands fly to your mouth. Your voice comes out in a hush, as your eyes dart around anxiously: “Is this like a zombie apocalypse or something? Are they surrounding the hospital right now? Are we going to die?”
A laugh of disbelief leaves his mouth before he can stop it. And then he stops, his head raising up and his eyes squinting in confusion, and then he looks even more concerned. Were there actually zombies? At that rate, you should’ve just been left for dead. Or Undead.
“Wanderers. They’re monsters that roam around after coming to earth, and you are a hunter...,” he pauses, “were a hunter who hunted them down.”
You feel relief dawning on you for a second at the fact that zombies aren’t part of this new weird reality you had awakened yourself to and then horror dawns on you when you realize that perhaps, these wanderer monsters perhaps aren’t any better to deal with. Especially when it seems like it is...or it was your job to deal with them.
“Like, with weapons?” you whisper, in shock. He nods. You are sure the only weapon you ever wielded was pepper spray walking home at night from overtime. Hell, you often had to ask your neighbor to help you bring up the heavier packages from the mailroom to your place.
But true to his words, you can feel that you are stronger, more muscular and toned, despite being what looks like hospitalized and severely injured.
Okay, so everything is seeming much less than a caffeine-induced nightmare and more like a twisted version of your normal reality.
“So I’m not a...hunter anymore?” you speak carefully.
He stares at you, in silence. He looks like he was contemplating a hard decision. And then he shakes his head.
“No, not anymore.”
Sure, you are certain that this version of you on the outside is still very much capable of swinging some heavy sword. But the you on the inside is someone who finds public-speaking during your meetings terrifying. Much less having the courage that it takes to slay monsters.
But you still tentatively ask. “Why?”
His eyes crinkle all of a sudden. His left hand reaches out, and he fondly strokes the top of your head. You don’t find it repulsive or jarring. His touch is...familiar.
“You tell me, Pipsqueak. After all, you decided to quit after we got recently married.”
Married? You blubber at his response. Your index finger reaches out to point at him, and then back at you, and then back at him.
And then your vision goes black.
🍏🍎
When you wake up, you are hopeful that what will meet your gaze would be the black screen of your overworked laptop and a drool-covered notepad with smudged ink. But instead, you can hear hushed whispers speaking with each other.
“Amnesia...Might be long-term...Recovery unknown...”
You peek an eye open. Damn, you are still in the hospital room.
Caleb somehow immediately senses that you had awakened, and in a flash, he’s by your side with the doctor—an aging man with a couple of gray hairs in his otherwise black hair—next to him. He reaches out and pats your cheek lightly, drawing your attention up to his face.
“Look, Pipsqueak, the doctor said that I can bring you home starting next week. It looks like most of your injuries are close to being fully recovered and being home will be good for your psychological well-being and might help you remember anything.” He flashes a confident smile.
The doctor beside him nods before adding. “These cases are rare, and we don’t know if there’s a cure, but taking some time to rest more will help stabilize your body and your mind. We’ll release you once it looks like you can fly, and I can refer you to a neurologist for support.”
Caleb’s smile temporarily strains before it relaxes. You feel like it was a trick of your eyes with how subtle and quick it is. He speaks, not to you but to the doctor. “But no pressure, right? She’ll need to take it slow and then we’ll reach out to one in Skyhaven once she’s all adjusted.”
His gaze slides down to you. “Right, Pipsqueak?”
Well, until you return to your normal reality, it seems like you are stuck here. And Caleb knows you—hell, he’s married to this version of you. And the doctor doesn’t seem to question your relationship either.
You nod. Or try your best to with the stiff muscles in your neck.
It looks like you’ll just have to enjoy being married to a hot guy while you still can. Not that that will be hard. But it seems like everything else in this world will be difficult to deal with...
🍏🍎
You can’t sleep well that night in the hospital. It’s almost funny—it looks like the you of this universe has caught up with her sleep debt from her coma. Instead, you lay on your back on your bed.
Your gaze falls onto the table next to the bed. You spot a phone. Your phone.
Caleb had dropped it off by your side before he had left. “Fully charged,” he had grinned down at you. It seems like you had a phone addiction even here. He looked like he didn’t want to leave, really, but you had squinted at him earlier as he had begun to slide a chair to your bedside and gone: “Have you even changed your clothes since you’ve come here? Slept in a proper bed?” He had shamelessly averted his gaze.
You had shaken your head at him in an almost maternal disappointment and crossed your arms in front of you, grimacing. “Okay, from your uniform, it looks like you’re financially secure. Get a hotel room for the night. Take a shower. Get a change of clothes. And sleep not on the floor with my already small bed as a pillow but on an actual bed with actual pillows and an actual blanket. I don’t want even the idea of a whiff of stinky man near me for the rest of the night.”
He had looked like a kicked puppy then, and you swore you could see drooping ears and a tail on him. And even more so when he had left. He had lingered by the door, staring back at you with pitiful eyes. You had a feeling you would have given in if you looked at him any longer, so instead, you turned so your back was facing him. “Go!” you spoke fiercely. And then your voice softened. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“I’ll see you in the morning? Good night then, Pipsqueak.” He whispered, gently. And then the door closed.
Hours later, you are still awake, and your phone is taunting you from the bedside table. It looks like an exact carbon copy of your phone back in your universe. It has a cute phone case with little apple designs and an attached wallet where you had tucked in the cards you needed.
You turn it on, and it recognizes your face, letting you in. The search engines look different to the ones in your Universe, but with some exploration, you are able to take yourself to what resembles closest to the search engine you usually used.
You pause before typing in.
Wanderer.
Images of wanderers pop up, and a wiki page categorizing their types is the first link. You squint. Okay, they are scary. And dangerous. But weirdly enough, less scary than the zombies in the tv shows you sometimes watch.
You then try another search.
Hunter.
You see a link to the official Hunters Association page show up. You click on it, and the page opens up to a simple emblem. There’s a description that you quickly read, and then you close out of the page. Next, news articles about the heroic deeds of hunters pop up and you read through them.
A woman in a gray uniform pops up. Jenna, is her name. She looks familiar. Really familiar. Is she your former boss? And then you scroll down even more and even more before stopping when a title popped up out at you, dating three years back.
Meet this year’s newest hunter admits.
You see a picture of you in the crowd. It is you, but it feels different somehow. This you, dressed in what you had identified as the hunter uniform, smiles at the camera with a confident ease. She feels almost alien, even though she wears the same skin as you. Or you’re wearing the same skin as her. You immediately exit the page.
You try one more search.
Waking up in another world with a husband you don’t even know about meaning?
Nothing relevant pops up. Except for some transmigration novels recommendations you spot. Glad to know those exist here too.
 You turn off your phone in defeat and roll onto your side. Staring outside at the sliver of the night sky that your blinds don’t fully cover, you let out a sigh and close your eyes. Maybe when you wake up next, you won’t even need to worry about wanderers and hunters and broad-shouldered men in uniform with puppy-like purple eyes who look at you in ways you can’t really decipher.
🍏🍎
Caleb doesn’t leave your side for the entire week, even though you’re certain from his uniform that he’s definitely in a higher-up position in one of the however many government organizations existing here—Farspace Fleet, you confirm when you eavesdrop on him during one of the many  times he’s in the hallway grumbling on the phone with someone.
It’s almost abnormally normal how much ease you feel letting this random stranger into your life. He knows you—or this version of you—well. Every detail, from the temperature you like in your room to the type of shows that you’d like to watch on the tv to your food dislikes and likes.
When you try to discreetly pick out the veggies you don’t like for a dish, he catches you and insists you finish them. “Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean you can avoid them. You won’t get all better without them.”
When you pretend not to hear him, he lets out a long sigh and plucks the spoon out of your own hand. “Ahh,” he hums.
You puff out your cheeks, annoyed all of a sudden. “I’m not two-years-old, Caleb. I’ll eat my veggies by myself." When you try to yank the utensil back, he leans back just out of reach.
“Uh-uh,” he tsks, poking at your cheek with a playful smile on his face, “I know what you’ll do. You’ll eat them and then try to spit them out into the napkin when I’m not noticing. Now open up.”
Yikes, how did he know?
Unfortunately for you, Caleb’s grip on the spoon is much stronger than yours, and unless you want to rely on your hands to eat your food, which seems like a bigger pain for the butt, you’ll have to settle on this approach. So you reluctantly oblige. But you notice with a pointed look the small pile of cilantro he has nudged aside on his own plate. He pretends to ignore your look and pokes the spoon to your lips.
Vegetable force-feeder aside, honestly, having Caleb around is almost like having a built-in helper robot, one that is attuned to your every need. Except instead of wires and cold metal, he’s made of hot flesh.
When you go on walks outside, he’s right behind you, watching carefully as if to make sure you won’t fall. He’s a hoverer, that’s for sure.
When you narrow your eyes at him and ask him “Do you even have enough PTO to be lurking around me like this”, he always pretends like he can’t answer the question and shamelessly changes it to a different topic.
The week passes by in a flash, with Caleb showing up the moment the sun rises and leaving back for his hotel late at night. And before you know it, you’ve become used to him. Almost too used to him.
🍏🍎
Caleb shows up early at 7am, even though he had told you the previous night that he’d be here at 8am to pick you up. You had insisted last night that he go home early—9pm sharp, in fact, instead of the usual midnight. He still looks like he hasn’t had enough sleep, and now that you’re less frazzled by your current reality, you can spot the dark circles clearly brimming underneath his eyes. Still, you mentally wolf-whistle, he’s gorgeous.
He’s back in his uniform. And before he comes near you, he tries to subtly sniff himself. Obviously, your comment about stinky men still rings loud and clear in his mind. You feel a bit sorry for him. He didn’t even stink when you had brought it up. In fact, he smelled good still. Annoyingly good.
But here you are, his supposed wife who’s not really his wife but is actually another soul who temporarily slipped into his wife’s body. But you try to assure yourself that hygiene really is the most important thing every human should prioritize.
 “Did you sleep well?” you ask. He peers up at you through his lashes, pitifully, as he helps peel the blanket off of your legs and assists you to your feet before pulling a set of clothes out of his bag. He looks like a kicked dog, and you feel a little bad at how you’ve been pushing him around.
“How can I? I’m used to you being at my side every night. And last night you didn’t even let me stay to my usual hour,” he shrugs. He unfolds the set. It’s a plain baggy t-shirt and some loose pants. When he reaches out as if he’s about to reach for the buttons of your shirt, he hesitates and drops his hands.
“You should get changed.” He takes a few steps back, until his back hits the wall of the room.
You squint at him. “Aren’t you turning your back?”
His face flushes red and then he swiftly turns around. You can see that his ears have turned a bright red. Cute. You laugh to yourself.
But he really is big. There’s not much space, and you have to keep your arms from swinging into him as you take off your pajamas and pull on the change of clothes as swiftly as possible. It’s quiet, the only sound the rustling of your clothes.
When you’re done, you poke your finger into his back. “I’m done.”
He flinches, like he’s been jolted by your touch. He turns around, and you can see that his cheeks are rosy. In the past week you’ve been with him, he hasn’t been this flustered. But maybe it’s because you’ve been in your usual baggy hospital pajamas set and messed up greasy hair. Now, you look refreshed and energized. Like a civilian instead of a sick patient.
Still, as his flush fades and he reaches to adjust the crumpled collar of your shirt, you think to yourself that it’s odd that he looks pretty comfortable touching you but not with the other way around.
You take a step back and almost wobble. It looks like despite all your perceived muscle, laying in a coma for a week without any movement has really weakened you. And your adventures out into the hospital courtyard don’t seem to be serving you that much justice in the physical movement department.
“Whoa!” you gasp out. In a flash, Caleb has swept you up onto his arm so that you’re comfortably nestled in his hold above the ground. He effortlessly holds your bag of items in the other. Unconsciously, you had reached out and wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a panic at your shift in gravity. And by the time you stabilize yourself, he’s already out of the room and in the hallway.
“You know...you’re pretty reliable and everything but uh, next time, give me a heads up?” you see the shocked expressions of the people in the hallway, including a nurse you had become familiar with in the past week, and bury your burning face into his shoulders. You knock your fist against his shoulder when he doesn’t respond, and he just laughs.
“Got it, Captain,” you can almost hear the cheeky grin in his voice, and you whack him again with your fist. But to him, it probably just feels like something barely grazing against him with the way he continues without care.
He eventually sets you down when you make it to the station. Caleb catches your look of confusion, and he provides the name. “Coelum Express. It’s not a long trip.” He then stares at your band-aids peeking out underneath your sleeves. His face twists into a frown. “I’d fly us in if I could, but security’s been tighter because of the frequency of Wanderer attacks lately. If anything starts hurting, let me know.”
You don’t like worrying him. In fact, you never liked worrying anyone. Back in your other world, when you had been sick and about to pass out, it was only your neighbor that took care of you because he had spotted you half-conscious in the stairwell. Other than that, you even refused to let your family know that you weren’t feeling well.
You wonder if a version of him exists here. He had moved in a few years back and rarely spoke to anyone. And he always wore a black mask. You couldn’t really remember if you had ever seen his face, oddly enough, but if he resembled anyone, it would have to be the big puppy of a man next to you.
You realize that Caleb is still looking at you. You shake your head free from your thoughts. “I’ll be fine.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“Really,” you nudge him. “I’m a grown adult. I can handle myself. And what, it’s only a few hours?”
He reaches out and ruffles your hair. You try to duck and bat away his hands, and when you focus back on him, you can see that the smile on his face is almost rueful. “Even when you forget all about me, you don’t seem to forget that you don’t need me.”
You don’t like how bitter he looks. Something takes over you, and you run a tentative hand across his chest. Your fingers bump the silver chain around his neck—dog tags, with a small apple charm. When U Come Back. Those words sound familiar in your head again. But like with everything else about this world, the moment you try to grab onto it, it’s already dissolved.
“Caleb, I need you,” you whisper before you can stop yourself.
You won’t tell him that you’re a stranger possessing the body of his wife, that the person you are in your other world is someone entirely different from the person he knows here. But it’s true. He’s the only one you know in this unfamiliar world. And you need him.
He’s staring at you in that way again. Like he’s trying to read your mind, while helplessly offering to you something you might want to read from his mind. Vulnerable, in a trance where you’re the person leading him into it and you’re also the only person who can lead him out of it.
And you know he’s seeing someone else through you.
Silver glints in your field of vision again, and you step back. You offer him an awkward smile, averting your gaze. “Come on, let’s not miss the train.”
🍏🍎
The train ride is, as Caleb says, quick. Clouds pass by you in a flash, and you stay with your face pressed up against the glass in aware. The world here, as familiar as it is in some ways, is much more high-tech than yours in other ways. Caleb doesn’t say much to you during the ride. He sits there, watching you.
Before long, the two of you are back at his place. Our place, you correct in your mind. This is the home of Caleb and the version of you that he’s married to.
It’s cozy and decorated exactly to your taste. You can see some peeks of Caleb through it—the airplane diagrams on the wall, the models neatly organized on the black shelves, and some large books with bugs on the front. Everything else though feels familiar and comfortable to you. Like Caleb, this place is catered to your every liking and taste.
He’s setting your bags down behind you as you begin to roam around. You peruse through the framed pictures set around. There’s a picture of you in a pretty white dress smiling at the camera at him. And another of the two of you with your fingers up in peace signs at the camera. You move on from the frames.
“Are you hungry? I can make something for lunch.” He throws the comment at you as you’re burying your head in the pile of throw pillows on the sofa. You peek up at him and nod your head eagerly.
He’s about to leave into the kitchen when you glance at your finger. Your ring finger.
“Hey, Caleb,” you call out. He stops in his tracks. “We’re married right? Where’s my ring?”
You’ve seen the ring on his finger. It’s a silver band with a small airplane embedded on it. And it made sense that the hospital probably took the ring off of your finger after the incident. But Caleb hadn’t even made a mention of it.
You can’t see his face when he responds, his back turned to you. “It’s getting repaired at the shop. It got damaged during the wanderer attack. It’ll be back, good as new.”
You open your mouth, about to ask something else, when the phone in his pocket beeps. Before you can say anything, he’s already turned to give you an apologetic smile as he picks up the phone and heads off into the kitchen.
When he comes out, he’s already heading to a different room. You watch him with curious eyes as he comes out, his hat in his hand.
“Shoot, it’s something urgent at the Fleet.” He walks over to you and reaches down to pat your head. “I’ll order some food to the door, and I’ll be back tonight. If you need me, call me. My number’s in your phone.”
And then he’s gone.
With Caleb away from your side during the day instead of the night, you’re once again left with your thoughts. Here you are, married, in the home of newlyweds, when the you of your world has only had your job to worry about and a practically nonexistent love life to shoo away from your mind.
You flop to your other side, grimacing a bit at the impact. You’re still bruised.
You can hear the faint ticking of a clock, but other than that, there’s nothing to stimulate your mind here. In your boredom, exhaustion creeps up on you and you fall asleep.
Your sleep is restless. You hear a loud screech echo in your ears, your feet are covered in mud as you sprint in the darkness, and you can feel the ground shaking underneath you as something behind you scrambles to catch up to you.
You’re getting tired. You know that you won’t be able to run any further before it catches up to you. And then you’re falling. Tree branches scratch at your body as you sink deeper. And then you’re in a room, confined to a chair.
Someone’s watching you. You can’t see them, but you can hear their soft breathing. You call out, demanding: “Who’s there?”
Footsteps sound in front of you. Your head whips up, and a loud gasp falls from your lips.
“Caleb?”
You jolt awake, your heart racing. A quick glance to the window next to the sofa shows that the sky is already getting dim.
The house is still silent. Caleb’s not back yet.
It isn’t until this realization that you can relax. And you feel guilt prod at you because of it.
Because this is Caleb. Familiar Caleb. Caleb who’s supposed to be your husband and has taken care of your entire need during your recovery. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. You shake your head and get to your feet.
As you’re about to head to the front door to check on the delivery food you’re certain has already grown cold, you decide to change direction and head towards the bedrooms. It’s not until you’re in the hallway that you spot something small glinting on the floor, right in front of the large wall in the hallway.
It’s a ring. Almost identical to Caleb’s ring except it’s daintier and shaped in a way that it would fit comfortably on yours. Odd, didn’t Caleb say that this was supposed to be at the repair shop? You look closer at it, trying to figure it out even more underneath the dimming light of the setting sun.
And then you notice the faint copper on the silver.
It’s blood.
You glance up at the large wall. You reach out, just about to press your hand firmly against it, when you hear the front door open and a voice ring out.
“Where are you, Pipsqueak? You didn’t eat the delivery food?”
You quickly scoop up the ring and hide it in the pocket of your pants. Getting up, you wander back out into the living room.
Caleb’s back. He looks tired, but when he spots you, relief washes over his expression. And then his expression turns slightly cold. “What have you been doing until now?”
You can feel the weight of the ring in your pocket. But you try to forget about it, not when Caleb seems to have a sixth sense in detecting your lies, and you seem to not have that same sixth sense for detecting his lies. Even now, you can’t tell if he’s hiding something from you. You don’t like to think that he is. After all, he’s the only one you have here that you can trust.
“I fell asleep on the couch, and when I woke up just now, I tried to find the bathroom.” You shrug. “And I got lost.”
He relaxes a little. “It’s in our bedroom. The first door in the hallway. Since you didn’t eat anything today and I didn’t either, I’ll make something. It’s not good to eat delivery food left out after all.”
You nod, almost mindlessly. When you turn to find your way to the bathroom, because really you did have to go use it, you don’t even notice that he’s still standing there, his eyes not leaving you.
A/N: it's been a while since I've written fanfic for any fandom, so I hope it isn't too rusty!! Let me know your thoughts/theories about what's going on with Caleb and why you're in this new world (where's the other you/).
You can also find this published on AO3 as well under my user applesanonymous :) but both shouldddd be published at the same time!
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crushmeeren · 5 months ago
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// ⋆ currently, i’m trapped in some sort of beautiful nightmare where every time i take a lap through the revolving door of my mind i’m smacked in the face with my alucard obsession. (even tho i should be finishing part three of my itachi arranged marriage mini series)
// ⋆ so here i am. this is my first time writing for him so bear with me while i figure out how to characterize his personality, and enjoy this random ass fluffy thing.
master list
ᯓ★ dividers created by me.
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Alucard, often, will be found curled up with you. He adores stretching out between your legs like a fat, happy cat in bed. Nuzzling his face into your belly with a soft sigh, hugging you tight. Alucard melts into a puddle when your fingers card through his hair, nails scratching lightly at the base of his skull.
Your back’s supported by some pillows, a book in one hand, and the edge of said book rests on Alucard wherever you can reach. It’s easy to lose track of time and reality within the coziness of the moment.
Every time you release Alucard’s soft curls to turn a page he squirms. Then he lets out a sound that could very well be classified as a purr when your hand returns.
Eventually, it’s easier to give up reading altogether. It’s clear he’s not planning on moving anytime soon. You set the book to the side and run both hands through his hair. He shivers.
“Adrian,” you murmur, moving your grip to his shoulders and squeezing.
He lifts his head and props himself up on his elbows, lids halfway shut when you lock eyes. “Yes, my love?”
You’ll never get over the rich, smooth tone of his voice. It’s like whiskey, burning low in your belly. “Are you falling asleep?” You tease, brushing the hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear.
“Mm, perhaps.” Alucard inches upwards until his face hovers above yours and braces his hands on the mattress. “It is truly unfair how soft and warm your body is. Can you fault me for falling under the spell of it?”
A soft laugh is your response. “I suppose I can’t. Tell me, would you like to sleep or should we watch something?” Your hands run up his biceps, over his shoulders, and frame the sides of his neck. Movies are still a strange concept to Alucard, but he finds he quite enjoys them.
“As long as I’m able to hold you close, the choice does not matter to me. If you are not tired, put a movie on, love.”
You tug at Alucard’s neck until he gets the hint to lean down. His lips meet yours with a soft, tender pressure, pulling apart and reconnecting a few times. The tip of a fang slides across your bottom lip before you break apart.
You place a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll put something on for now.”
Alucard clings to you like a koala once you settle under the covers. He takes the chance and assumes the position of big spoon. Alucard shoves his thigh between yours, an arm circled around your waist, and his hand slips under your shirt, fingers spread across your belly.
He buries his face into the back of your neck and falls asleep not even halfway through the movie.
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// ⋆ should i write more alucard??? please help
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pacofprunes · 6 months ago
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cotton candy grapes
thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)
warnings — very short drabble, reader has pink hair, noncon kissing, biting that draws blood, choking, subtle threatening, drug use
by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+
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somehow, he hadn’t noticed you in the first game. you’d think the only other person there with dyed hair, that was pink, would immediately get his attention. but he didn’t notice until after the games when it was time to vote, you smacking that red X. he only saw your hair though, he wanted to see your face. he knew you had to be stunning.
the voting ends and he sees you on the other side sitting on your bed with your face in your hands. he gets up to go over to you.
“where are you going?”
nam-gyu his lap dog. he sits up out of his bed to see what his owners doing.
“none of your business.”
he walks away towards you, nam-gyu watching the whole time. on the way there he pops a pill in his mouth.
“hello señorita.”
you look up and he’s stunned. god you were beautiful. he whistles at you.
“what’dya say you join me and my team over there beautiful?”
he points to the other side where you see a group of people.
“uh, no thank you.”
“come on babe don’t be so difficult. you’re over here all alone, you need alliances. and i, thanos, the greatest rapper there has ever been, am a great ally.”
you pause and think. it would be nice to have allies in a shit hole like this. but then you think back to the first game. right in front of you, a whole row of people fall forward and get shot. it wasn’t from somebody tripping. no. it’s because this guy who says his name is thanos pushed them. you’re pulled out of your thoughts and look him in the eyes.
“you killed all those people.“
he looks at you with a shocked sarcastic smile.
“did i?”
“yes. yes you did. the first game, you pushed them all. no i don’t wanna fucking be on your team are you crazy?”
he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes it back slightly before you slap his hand away.
“come on señorita, money is money! you didn’t know those people and neither did i!”
he laughs, sick. he leans forward closer to your face and then moves over to your ear.
“plus, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t join my team and switch that X.”
he leans back and points to the red X on your chest. flicking it. you stand up and ignore him before walking away, going to the bathroom to avoid him. he just stares your way.
“girls who play hard to get are so fucking hot.”
he runs a hand through his hair before going back to his degenerate friend nam-gyu. telling him all about you. granted he twisted a lot of shit. claiming you wanted him so bad, but was just so intimidated by how famous he is that you didn’t want part of that spotlight, and that’s why you said no. definitely was not what you said at all though.
you come back in the room, your pink hair bouncing behind you. god it looked so soft. he should’ve ran his hand through your hair while he had the chance. lights out comes about and he just sits up on his bed, taking another pill. thinking to himself what his next action should be. what if you died tomorrow and he didn’t even get the chance to kiss you? he gets up and walks back over to your side. you were trying to go to sleep, but weren’t asleep yet. he simply just grabs your elbow and pulls you behind the bed, pressing you against the wall.
“what the hell is wrong with you?”
he looks you dead in the eye with a crazed look. and rubs his hands through your hair. so fucking soft.
“babe, you’re just so fucking beautiful, what if you die tomorrow? and i don’t get the chance to smoke with you, kiss you, fuck you…”
you give him a disgusted look before he grabs your face in both hands giving you a tight kiss. forcing his tongue in your mouth. you push at his chest with your hands before stomping on his foot and he jumps back.
“you fucking bitch.”
he goes back up to you before you get the chance to get away from him and he grips your hair between all his fingers. you wanted to scream but didn’t wanna make things worse. plus, nobody would help you in a place like this. constant killing and fighting. nobody gave a fuck about you. he takes a deep breath before he breaths it all out into your neck. he wraps his hands around your neck as a warning, rubbing his fingers in circles around it.
“you’re so beautiful, one of the prettiest women i’ve ever seen. just give a handsome guy like me a chance.”
he kisses you again, hands still around your neck, doing light little pulse squeezes every few seconds as a warning. he bites your lip this time drawing a little bit of blood, causing you to go to scream. but as soon as you do, he’s squeezing your throat as tight as he can, you can’t get any air, not even a single noise out. he continues to kiss you before pulling away and looking you in the eyes as you struggle to breathe. finally he lets go and pushes your hair behind your ear.
“i expect you change your mind tomorrow, kay babe? wouldn’t wanna hurt you even more, i really do like you.”
he takes a step back and you guys just hold eye contact and he swings his cross necklace, playing with it in his fingers before opening it.
“if you ever want some, just come to me. the pink one suits you perfectly.”
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nekonaps0 · 17 days ago
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Your writing has been inspired so far, I'm eating everything up so far 🧡🧡🧡
If you're up for a request, what about how the Freshmen react to, after a studying at Ramshackle, falling asleep and waking up not only in their own bed but with either a lipstick print on their face, or with a vague or dream like memory of the Prefect kissing them good night? (Idk if you prefer to keep the Prefect gn or not when writing) Pre-relationship of possible as well!!!
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Good night kiss
✦fem!reader
✦characters: first years
✦Awww that’s so cuuute!!!
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Ace Trappola
Ace wakes up with a yawn and a stretch. He slowly crawls out the bed and immediately stops when he notices the faint red lip mark on his cheek.
He freezes. Stares at his mirror.
“…Is that lipstick?”
He flashes back just faintly to the feeling of warm breath against his face, the softness of lips brushing his cheek, your gentle whisper:
“Sweet dreams, Ace…”
His heart punches his ribs. “NO WAY. Did she—?! Did I—?! WAS THAT REAL?!”
Cue him pacing around his dorm, mumbling “I probably dreamed it... right?” but also refusing to wash his face just in case it was real.
The next time you see him, he’s awkward, twitchy, and trying way too hard to be casual.

“So uh… did you, like, put something on my face the other night? Or am I just hallucinating or something?” He laughed nervously
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Deuce Spade
Deuce jolts awake in his dorm bed with a start. His face is warm. He blinks at the ceiling.
“I was at Ramshackle… studying… and then…”
He remembers. Your voice. The way you tucked the blanket around him. The feather-light pressure of a kiss on his forehead. Your soft giggle before whispering
“Sleep tight, Deuce…”
His entire face ignites. He shoots upright, smacking his own cheeks.
“No! No way! That must’ve been a dream. She wouldn’t—right?! Unless… unless she likes—no! Get it together!”
He goes to class the next day in a daze, blushing like crazy every time you say hi.

He almost asks you about it… but chickens out. Still, he secretly wonders if he should fall asleep at Ramshackle more often.
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Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek wakes up in his bed and sits bolt upright, sputtering.
“I-I was at Ramshackle! I recall studying! And then—what… what was that…???”
His ears are red. His thoughts are spinning.
Did you… kiss him? Did you—did you touch his face? And whisper goodnight?
“DO NOT READ INTO THIS. IT WAS MERELY A DREAM. A HALLUCINATION!!” he roars to no one.
But the lipstick of your kiss lingers on his forehead tells others things.
He arrives at Ramshackle the next day, standing at your doorstep with arms crossed and a deep scowl… and a faint pink tint on his face.
“Prefect! If you did, in fact, do something as reckless and inappropriate as… as bestowing a kiss while I was unconscious… then I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION!”
You blink. “So you did remember.”
Cue Sebek malfunctioning.

“I—! YOU—! THIS IS—! GAAAAHHH!!!”
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Jack Howl
Jack wakes up unusually warm.
He frowns, sitting up in bed with the vague feeling something happened. Something… soft.
His hand brushes his cheek, and he freezes. There’s a smudge of lip gloss on his face.
He remembers. You leaning over him. A hushed, “Goodnight, Jack.” Then the gentle press of your lips on his temple.
He clutches the blanket and groans into it.

“…I knew your lip gloss smelled like that.”
He spends the entire day with his ears twitching and tail swishing restlessly. Every time you talk to him, he glances away like a flustered puppy.
Eventually, he asks—gruffly, quietly

“...That night. Was it… real?”
When you confirm it with a bashful smile, he goes silent.
“…Next time,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes, “...kiss me while I’m awake.”
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Epel Felmier
Epel wakes up confused. He sits up in bed and rubs his cheek. It’s sticky. Strawberry-scented.
“What the hell…”
He rushes to the mirror and sees a soft pink lipstick print right on his cheek.
His face explodes with color.
“Oh my god. Did she—Did I—DID SHE REALLY KISS ME?”
His inner tough guy shatters like glass. He squeals into his pillow for three straight minutes, then immediately texts Deuce:

“Don’t tell anyone but I think I just got my first kiss???”
All day, he stares at you like you’ve grown angel wings. His heart is pounding. He’s too nervous to ask if it was real, but you wink at him across the cafeteria.
He short-circuits and nearly drops his lunch tray.
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lovermake · 7 months ago
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sitting in their lap ! ( ft jjk men + women )
synopsis : short cute headcannons that involve sitting in your partner’s lap and how they react to it. some are suggestive / nsfw, others are pure fluff !
content warnings : NSFW 18+ ( viewer discretion advised ), fingering, sitting in lap, grinding, dry humping + dry sex, wlw content ( men dni ), praise, slight degradation, possessive & soft sex <3
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choso
it’s unexpected when you plop straight into his lap, when you ask if you could “sit here.” He did not realize he was an option, as you your back rested against him. But nonetheless he is happy with the choice you made and lets you make yourself at home. ( though if you spend too long sitting on his crotch, don’t be shocked when you start to feel something rubbing against your ass ! )
“mind if I join?” you greet entering the living room to choso scrolling on his phone as some news channel plays. he raises a brow confused as to why you asked because you would usually just plop besides him and gossip about your job. before he could even say or react to your question, you plop right onto his lap with your back to his chest, sighing loudly as you are finally comfortable.
you don’t have to turn your head to know that his face was turning to a soft pink, and he was fighting the urge to not gently place his hands on your waist. Choso is left defeated not knowing exactly what to say to your random gesture, so all he does is truly lay back and let you find comfort in his lap and chest.
it’s adorable when you fall asleep after a little while of chatting, for he gently rubs your back and plays with the strands of your hair as you sleep softly against him. he mumbles how cute you are, before eventually drifting off into a sleep of his own.
nanami
it’s grown a regular routine for you to sit in your husband’s lap usually when he is eating the food you have made for him after a long day of work. he never makes any advances, or at the very least tries not to, for he doesn’t want to ruin the intimate moment with devious urges. despite how much he wants to take you over the kitchen counter. but it seems tonight you seem to want him to.
you’re wearing a short apron with not much underneath other than a cute pink pair of panties with a bow, and of course Nanami notices your advances, given that you aren’t much of a chatterbox as always and rather tend to rub yourself against him on his crotch. and while the steak you have cooked and seared for the night was delicious, he was much more interested in devouring something else.
but what was dessert without finishing dinner ?
he does his best to not react to your advances as an attempt to at least finish the meal you have prepared, but you’re really dedicated to get what you want, straddling him and gently pressing your hands against his chest. and with a simple gesture of loosening his tie, he is quick to have you laid upon the dining table, apron pushed up, panties pulled down.
you tried to play it off by reminding Kento of his food, but that could always wait for later. “I’m sorry my love, I don’t have much patience and it seems neither do you.” he presses a kiss to your temple before his lips drag themselves from your cheek, to your neck, to your waist, and to your clit.
though nanami promises to finish his food later, he never does, for you became his priority for the rest of the night.
maki
your favorite thing to do with your girlfriend was surprise her out of the blue, especially by randomly scaring her with a hug, gently biting her cheek, sometimes smacking her ass and playing a game of tag, or plopping yourself in her lap. which is what you decided to do today. she had just finished washing her hair and was taking a moment to relax on the bed when you decide to plop onto her lap. her initial reaction was to scold you and tell you, you should be studying, but she decides to take advantage of your impulsive gesture.
“oh MY god, stop !!” you scream, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, laughter falling from your lips as she tickled your waist and stomach. your kicking your feet, but it doesn’t keep her from tickling you, as your throwing your head back and attempt to push away her hands.
she can only giggle along, satisfied with how ticklish you were. “this is why you should be studying,” she playfully scolds and you can’t help but laugh even harder. at this point she would be knocking the breath out of you. “this is what you get!”
after so long she finally frees you of her mercy and you hop of the bed to go study as she mentioned. she smacks your ass as you leave the room, “and make sure to practice your domain.”
you only stick your tongue out as you leave, earning another chuckle from your sweet girl.
geto
he had asked you to help him dry his hair, given its length. and usually you’d stand behind him as he sat down and rambled about his villainous activities, but today you decided to try a new angle and decide to sit in his lap and dry his hair. the gesture surprises him, but he adores it, keeping a hand on your waist as you dried his hair.
“oh!” he mumbles softly, as he watches you straddle his lap. you’re body is facing his and it’s very close eye contact as you begin to dry his hair with a towel. at first he is looking you up and down as you begin to dry the damp strands. “you’ll be able to get the lower ends of my hair?”
you giggle. “I’ll be able to, don’t worry! continue you on about your day.”
he’s a bit reluctant, for he hated having his hair wet, but he loved having you on his lap like this so he continued on with his rambling, thought he could barely focus again. you were wearing a black tank top and fuzzy shorts, so the sight did his lead his mind to wander. but nonetheless he needed his hair dry so he kept his urges to himself.
nobara
you both take turns sitting in each others lap but you tend to do it the most. and every time you do, it’s always a soft intimate moment you share with your fiancé for she adores combing through your curls. her favorite thing to do as you sit in her lap is either braid or try new styles with your hair since it’s much longer and more different than hers.
“ow!” you whine, squinting your eyes as your girlfriend brushes through your hair. “be careful!”
she whispers a sorry and kisses your cheek. you grow more relaxed in her lap and she continues brushing your hair to a perfect slicked back bun, keeping a couple of curls to bounce out in the front.
“how do you like it, [ your name ] ?” nobara asks, holding a mirror up for you. she has given you a side part, slicked back with two curls on each side of your ears and a beautiful curly bun in the back. you’re so quick to turn back and give him a big kiss and thank her for her work, which she softly blushes for in her ears.
toji
He’s initially pissed when you sit on his lap, rather than taking a seat on his couch (a couch he thrifted for $3 and a wing) but when your rub his ass on his crotch, all that anger immediately rushes to pleasure, hands strapping to your waist. Suddenly his pants have been pushed down, your panties ripped (per usual).
“fuck,” you whimpered, your hands on his thighs, as you bounced on his cock. his eyes constantly going up, and down, up and down. it was a shame you weren’t facing him because he would have adored, seeing your titties bounce in his face to. but the two of you had time after this, so he wasn’t all that concerned. “making me do all the work?”
toji leans back and laughs at your question. “making you work too hard princess?” you aren’t given much time to answer because he wraps his hands around your waist and by keeping you still he begins to thrust deep inside of you, watching you hiccup and whimper in pleasure. his name leaving your mouth all too many times.
at some point you couldn’t even moan words, everything falling from your lips was incoherent and before you knew it you were screaming in pleasure as his seed pumped deep inside of you. your legs shaking and your chest going up and down.
“fucking shit, toji.” you whimpered and he only chuckles, signaling to you that this would only be the beginning.
gojo
in all honesty he’s been waiting patiently until you would hop onto his lap. because it gives him the advantage to tease you and crawl his hands under your shirt with his cold hands. but of course his teasing is never just an innocent tease.
“gojo!” you squeak. you had decided to plop into your boyfriend’s lap unexpectedly, and he then decided to unexpectedly slip his hands under your shirt with his icy cold hands. he can only throw his head back and laugh. “your hands are cold!”
“I heard being cold makes sex all the more exciting” he lies through his teeth, and you can only turn your head with a glare. he lies but somewhere in his heart he does believe that’s true. the type of boyfriend you have is the type to click on exaggerated ads and then wonder why his computer been hacked again.
his thumbs gently flick over your nipples in surprise and you can’t help but moan this time at the feeling. there’s a devious snicker that escapes his throat and you glare again. “see I told you that was true!”
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© lovermake’s works 2024. Do not use my writing for language translation, re-editing, plagiarism, heavy inspiration, posting through other social media apps, or stealing.
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darlingdream1010 · 25 days ago
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He was just fourteen.
Danny had moved on, taken the high road from his little place in Amity Park to Gotham. City of dark and damp, festering alleyways of crime. He left behind swooping battles with rogues and late nights catching up on late homework. He gave it up for a normie life.
Danny lives the right way.
In his apartment, paycheck to paycheck.
At his school, passing grade to passing grade.
He’s living his dream, he tells himself. He doesn’t have to fight evil, he whispers. Bats fly by his window at night. Sometimes, gas creeps in and the rest of the neighborhood screams. He can’t hear them over his own.
Isn’t it humiliating, having a grinning hero coddle you through triage as if you were just like everyone else?
Danny feels ashamed. For the first time, he feels a fiery pettiness pushing him to help.
He resists.
He studies for midterms instead, not like he’s much better at that than…
…he needs to stop thinking about it.
It doesn’t help when the very next night, he sees Red Robin grapple right past his window with a gaping wound in his side. He looks back down at his study guides and textbooks splayed out before him, filled with jargon and equations that would never apply in daily life. Equations don’t stitch wounds up. It’s stupid, but it sticks in his head and festers.
When he looks at them, even he only half understands them. Just like how he gets only half-decent grades, and places near the middle of his class.
He loves this.
But sometimes…
Sometimes it seems like he should be better at it.
If it’s his favorite thing, he should be amazing at it.
If he’s going to pursue something so useless when vigilantes risk their lives and swing with open wounds, he ought to be a prodigy.
Be better, or do something useful.
Save the world as a scientist, or save the world as a hero.
Either way, it feels like everyone’s suffering is his responsibility.
All these thoughts corner him deep into the night.
They push and prod him with visions of Dan and Freakshow, and he closes his eyes and can’t breath fast enough.
He falls asleep plagued by them. His dreams are filled with visions of him swooping in and saving Red Robin in a tight spot. He imagines countless victims vying for his help. He pictures himself saving every last one, stretching himself as far as he can just so he can help everyone.
The flowing ideas of being one of Gotham’s saviors, being the untouchable one amongst human vigilantes, lured him into sleeping far past dawn.
Far enough, that by the time he awoke, his alarm clock was screaming at him.
“Oh, goddamnit,” he cursed, smacking the thing till it stopped and stumbling out of his chair. His back ached from the hunched sleeping position.
“This sucks,” he muttered to himself, aggressively brushing his teeth and spitting into the sink.
No time to rinse his mouth out, he threw pants and a hoodie on before rushing out the door. He was beyond late—and what a wonderful start to his day.
He just managed to catch the subway train running to the University, and he nearly consumed billions of germs thriving on the subway floor when the train started moving. He staggered to the side and caught a hold of the pole, apologizing to those he bumped into.
“Do you see this shit, Dauna? All because you’s making me stand.”
For a heart-quickening moment, Danny thought the burly, potbellied man was talking to him.
A young woman in a seat evaded his gaze. “It’s just for one more stop, Andy,” she muttered.
“What’d you say, bitch? You wanna speak up?” A glob of spit from the man’s mouth landed on her cheek.
“I said, it’s just for one more stop! My foot hurts and I sat here first, okay? I’m sorry, but it ain’t worth pitching a fit over,” she reasoned, clutching her purse tightly.
The man eyed her handbag and made a swipe at it.
“Ugh—“ the woman struggled, but the man was stronger.
He waved it around and smirked cruelly. “Not so stubborn now, huh? Get outta my damn seat or I’ll empty this hog’s mound of a purse right here, woman.”
She didn’t budge, and he followed through with his word. He shook it like it was filled with money, when really all that came out was a precious few lipsticks, a ring, and coupons.
Danny watched in abject horror. He wanted to help—he should just tell that man off right then! Yet, something held him back.
She would be happy, perhaps, but what about when they went home together? Where Danny couldn’t see, wouldn’t he just take out his anger two-fold, leaving her worse off than before?
So Danny doesn’t budge. Danny glances away politely when the woman cries while he empties her stuff all over the place.
The only thing he can do is silently pick up the pieces and hand them back to her. She’s left to put them back together herself.
Danny feels empty when he steps out that train.
Was that really the right choice?
A sticky note flutters in front of his face—
You tried your best, Danny. It’s worth more than you think.
Clockwork? That’s Danny’s first thought, but surely, that couldn’t possibly be the case.
“Time, out,” a ghostly voice echoes across the station, eerily familiar.
A robed blue ghost floated out from behind a column, smiling slightly at Danny.
“Clockwork? But, I thought I—“
“I know your teenage self proclaimed your heroic days were over and left the Infinite Realms, but I thought for today, you might appreciate a familiar face and a head start to make it to class.”
Danny stared, flabbergasted. “You’re helping? You never help.”
“I think I should feel offended.” The ghost flickered to his child self and chuckled.
“Wait, no, I mean, thank you, just-I have a few questions I need to ask you,” Danny said.
“You’ve got ten minutes to make it to class, Daniel,” Clockwork evaded his request. He then took a step back and walked to the column he’d appeared from. “Remember, you’re always welcome in the Ghost Zone.”
He was gone.
Danny stared aimlessly for nearly an entire minute before he remembered Clockwork’s words. Ten minutes.
The two morning encounters were momentarily forgotten as Danny ran for his classes. He swerved around pedestrians and hopped over cars. Ultimately, he decided to take to the air for the fastest trip. Danny didn’t intend to get sidetracked, as this was one of his favorite classes, but when he saw Signal midair about to catch a projectile to the face, he couldn’t help hovering up and moving it out of the way.
Danny snickered at the silly expression on the hero’s face and flew extra fast to class, not regretting the delay at all.
Maybe it was okay that he got to enjoy the life of a normal citizen. Didn’t these people fight for students like him to bomb tests and cry over ice cream and throw stupid parties like normal people?
Danny Phantom would live his normal life to the fullest.
After all, he was just nineteen.
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dissolved-g1rl · 15 days ago
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leon and his insomniac s/o ⋆˙⟡ ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
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One thousand and one. One thousand and two. One thousand and three. One thousand and four. This really isn’t working anymore. Counting sheep, taking melatonin gummies, wearing socks to sleep, not wearing socks to sleep. Many forums have been browsed, insomnia books purchased, the only thing that seems to get you to sleep is Leon’s voice. There lies your problem, he works so hard everyday, just because you can’t sleep doesn’t mean Leon should have to wake up and read to you till you fall asleep.
You glance to the side, you can see how his chest rises and falls with every breath. Leon had been holding you, trying to soothe you to sleep with head rubs, at some point he dozed off, rolling over onto his back. Leons hair splays out backwards, exposing his forehead, honey blonde looking like a darkish brown. His pouty lips are slightly parted, you can hear him snore after each exhale.
The room is dark, but you’ve been staring off for so long that you’ve just…adjusted to it. You sigh quietly, sitting up in bed. The plan is to escape Leon, drink some warm milk, do some jumping jacks, anything to try and tire yourself out. You almost make it to the door, had to crawl over his limbs to do it, but you hear the sheets rustle, “Where’re you going….” You hear, and turn around like a startled animal.
“Just getting a drink.”
“Liar.”
He pats the still warm space next to him and you begrudgingly return. Leon is sleepy, barely keeping his eyes awake as he tugs you close to him, so close that the two of your are sharing a pillow. Leons nose rubs against your cheek. He takes a moment to try and wake up, his voice is groggy, and his limbs are heavy with sleep. “How long have you been up.” He murmurs, “A few hours.” is your response that makes him sigh. “You could’ve woken me up.” He rubs your arm all the way down to your hand, lacing your fingers together. “I know…but…” He makes a noise at your sheepish rebuttal. “You want me to read the last chapter of Pride and Prejudice?” Leon asks, it’s been a good read, he never thought he’d like a romance novel, and it put you to sleep like a charm and kept him interested. “No…Go back to sleep Leon, I’ll be fine.” Leon smacks his lips disapprovingly “You’re gonna try ‘n leave me again.” He says through a yawn. “You have work in the morning.” You try to be reasonable, “Then I’ll take a nap on my lunch break, ‘s fine.” He’s too sweet, too understanding, too considerate. “You want the chapter?” He suggests again, he won’t take no for an answer, stubborn is another one of his traits, its as loving as it is infuriating. You shake your head again and he sighs.
He tries a few different things. Soft kisses, ones that have a little too much spit, and that are a little off center. Leon even leaves the bed to turn the ac down, he comes back to cuddle you under the sheets, he gets chilly, the way you put your hands under his biceps and feet all over his calves makes it seem like you do to. “Y’know, our receptionist just came back from maternity leave.” Leon rubs your back, “What does that have to do with anything?” You ask incredulously, Leon shushes you “Anyways, she had a colic baby, never slept for more than like…two hours or something, till they got a little white noise machine, worked like a charm.”
“White noise, seriously?”
“Yes seriously, just give it a try, please?” He’s such a polite boy when he says please, you make an indignant noise, yet agree. He hums approvingly, blindly groping for his phone, he finds a long video of repeated white noise, playing it loud enough to hear yet to not be jarring. You let the noise of static gum up in your brain, “It sounds like when you snore.” You mumble, your eyes feel a little heavy, “I don’t snore.” Leon denies, he thinks you’re pulling his leg. “Mhm…” You nuzzle his chest, his hand still is rubbing your back, albeit slowly as he too starts to get sleepy.
Unfortunately, it works like a charm, it takes thirty minutes, but that’s nothing compared to four hours of counting sheep. Leon calls you his colic baby for the rest of the week, people assume he had a baby young, no he’s just talking about his insomniac lover.
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dividers by @uzmacchiato
a/n: This story was a request, i accidentally posted it instead of saving to my drafts so i had to delete re do it all lol, hope u enjoy ^_^ I am so sorry I don’t remember your @!!!!
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r3ynah · 1 month ago
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I Hate(Love) this family.
DCXDP PROMPT
Danny goes to University out of state and begrudgingly decides to let Ellie and Dan tag along(with the help of Jazz's persuasion), allowing them to do whatever they want as long as they don't get in trouble or attract any unwanted attention that may harm their family— so what in the hell do you mean that Dan and Ellie decided that it would be a good idea to be the most annoying and chaotic pests known to man and in THE Gotham nonetheless?
Oh, who was he kidding Danny knew that forbidding something from those two only made them want it more with the sole purpose of bothering Danny as much as possible.
Like that time when he said that Dan should do something productive like get a job, because the older said "he was bored out of his mind and wanted to do something productive" something along those lines, he got a job alright, he got a job as a Rogue what the hell Dan, no one in the right mind except you would think: "Oh, I need a job I should become a rogue to annoy my alternative universe me and also the vigilantes, but mostly alternative universe me"
And It wasn't better with Ellie either she had been so busy and fascinated by exploring the different hidden locations all across Gotham, that Danny barely saw her, and the only thing that kept Danny's mind at ease that she was safe was the calls he had with her twice a day to check if she had eaten yet, because she forgets that she has to eat most of the time.
Letting Ellie hear that Dan became a rogue is no good. Both of them crave chaos and letting her know will only result in the downfall of Gotham. Knowing her if she is ever given the choice between having eternal happiness or jumping into a pit full of chaos, she'll read the non-existent rules and regulations first before jumping in without a second thought.
It's already been a problem when she started mentioning that she wanted to interact with the bats in one of her and Danny's daily calls, speaking of that Ellie it's past dinner time he should call her if she has already eaten, how strange there's a notification from her number she only decides to text him first when something exciting(dangerous) happens, there was an image of Ellie in her ghost form smiling at the camera while holding a struggling Robin by the collar like a cat while she floated inches from the ground. He stared at the image for a few seconds before letting out a sigh of resignation.
Maybe just maybe if he closes his eyes hard enough to fall asleep, he'll wake-up in the morning and realize that this was all just a nightmare caused by stress, yeah just a nightmare
It was in fact not a nightmare, and the following this is basically what followed for the next few days:
No— Dan do not mention me in any of your villain monologues when fighting the vigilantes, If you keep this up I'm legit going to trap you in a thermos along with Ellie or worse with Vlad, Jazz please stop laughing at my pain— Ellie NO.
At this point, I'm not going to die of exhaustion due to schoolwork, I'm going to die keeping this family in check. Jazz you told me that they'll behave, you promised—you lied, didn't you?
Oh, my ancients you lied.
Do you know how hard it is to keep a straight face as I see Ellie getting thrown like a Beyblade outside my classroom window, she went zoom as the professor was about to explain how trajectory of a rocket works. Jazz, please, actually stop laughing and help me, I'll start having grey hairs before I turn 50.
And... Dan just smacked Signal in the face in the middle of the road in daylight. ELLIE— put Robin back down to the ground, stop aggravating the child!
If I don't graduate college because of the two of you, I promise that I will have my villain arc, and this will be my origin story.
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neeeooon · 3 months ago
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Hi hi guess who has another request >_<!! So I was wondering if I could get bllk boys reacting to a reader who likes staying up late at night (It can be anyone but I especially request Ness or sendou in it <3) ? Thank uuu amazing author for feeding my hyper fixation😻
ofc thank you for feeding mine 😍
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when you like to stay up late
bf bllk x gn!reader. all domestic fluff <3
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alexis ness
-> “are you sleepy?” “mmm,” “is that a yes?” “mm.”
-> you smile and kiss ness’s forehead. though you like staying up late, ness is an early bird and usually falls asleep before the clock hits double digits. you used to tease him for it, but now you respect him, as it isn’t often you wake up before 10 am
-> tucking him into bed, you find an extra blanket to wrap around yourself and pop your earbuds in so you can watch a few episodes of your show without disturbing ness
-> he usually shuffles around at around 1 am, but it isn’t often that he wakes up. “y/n?” his groggy voice startles you, and you turn your phone off when you see his bleary eyes trying to spot you in the darkness
-> “go to sleep,” he hims while carefully tugging the comforter over you before tucking himself into your side. “your head will hurt in the morning.” you smile and nuzzle the top of his head with your cheek. “goodnight, lovely.”
sendou shuto
-> “so… what do you wanna do?” he asks with a wink, yelling dramatically when you smack him in the face with a pillow
-> you end up seated beside each other, stuffing your faces with popcorn as you watch some classic pixar movies
-> you look over when you hear sniffling during up and raise a brow at sendou, who is trying (and failing) to muffle his sobs with the pillow. “i-it’s so sad! please never die, y/n!” “.. i’ll do my best not to..?”
-> he’s asleep twenty minutes later, head slumped against your shoulder like it’s his own personal rest, not that you mind. you scoffed gently when he snored before placing a kiss in his hair and carefully tossed a blanket over him
-> you watched another movie and started the third when sendou finally shifted against you. “i was resting my eyes…” “sure, babe.”
hiori yo
-> he likes staying up too and will offer to stay up with you
-> you mostly waste the night away playing video games together, something you can do whether he’s physically there with you or not
-> though he’s always up to play with you, your favorite nights are when hiori stays with you. your parents are lenient and trust him, so they don’t care if he stays over or not... though all you’re doing is playing video games until the sun comes up
-> “maybe we should try to fix our sleep schedules one of these days,” you said after finally shutting your pc down and peeking past the black-out curtains to see the sky lightening
-> hiori shrugged and tugged his hoodie off before climbing into your bed. “why?” “i doubt it’s healthy to play video games all night.” “it’s fun, though. getting to play with you.” you blushed at his quiet confession and jumped into bed beside him. “so romantic. let’s see how long we can sleep before my mom brings us food this time.”
kurona ranze
-> for some reason, your town had a 24h pet store/clinic. on nights where you don’t feel like sleeping, you like texting your boyfriend and walking there together
-> the cashier yawned when you approached. “hamsters and birds are all asleep right now. unless you’re looking for dog food, we don’t have much else to show.”
-> you and kurona ignored him and made beelines to the back of the store, where the fish tanks were. you crouched in front of the lower level tanks and watched, mesmerized, as the fish swam around
-> “two dollars for a fish is crazy, crazy,” kurona sighed as he followed a spotted fish with his fingertip. you blinked as his words sank in before grabbing your wallet and dumping the contents onto the floor
-> you had enough coins to make $2.07 and turned a wild smile on your boyfriend. “i’m getting you that fish.” “that’s the sleep deprivation talking..” “bet.” “… bet, bet.”
-> your family had an empty tank at home, and it was perfectly sized for kurona’s new spotted fish. kurona joked that he’d never go on another late night adventure with you again after that
kiyora jin
-> just. dance. party.
-> your neighbors hate you, you’re sure of it, but you don’t care. when you can’t sleep, you send a simple “🕺” emoji to kiyora, and he’s at your place ten minutes later
-> and if your just dance cd, so aged and scratched from use it doesn’t always play right away, doesn’t work? michael jackson: the experience
-> yes, kiyora is your lovely boyfriend who will do almost anything to make you happy. no, that does not include letting you win any level of either game. even when he’s exhausted and you’re still bouncing with energy, he still manages to get 5 stars while you stay stuck at 4
-> “this is insane. billie jean shouldn’t be this hard! rematch!” but he’s already asleep on your bed, so you finally, reluctantly, turn everything off and join him
karasu tabito
-> “can i play with your hair?” “it’s two in the morning. there’s a very high chance of me falling asleep on ya.” “sooooo..?” “.. sure.”
-> you always sneak into karasu’s place to visits after his shower, when all the gel is washed from his hair. you like sleeping late since your first class isn’t until noon, so it gives you plenty of time to sleep in
-> you sat on kurona’s bed while he was position on the floor between your legs, watching soccer reruns on his phone as you ran your fingers through his gel-free hair
-> smiling when your boyfriend hummed, you continued playing with his hair until you heard the quiet thud of his phone slipping from between his hands and hitting the floor
-> internally cooing, you gently encouraged karasu to move to his bed so you could oss a blanket over him and cuddle against his chest. lying together like that with the steady rise and fall of karasu’s chest, it wasn’t hard for you to fall asleep
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munsonsmixtapes · 6 months ago
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Shy virgin reader starts off so innocent but ends up not after this feral man 👇
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Abso-fucking-lutely! There is not a man more feral than Billy in my opinion. I also got a little carried away with this so I hope that's okay!
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) spanking
There's nothing but awkward tension between you and Billy as the two of you sit on the edge of his bed. His thumb is rubbing circles along your knee as he tries his best to comfort you. He's the kind who usually gets right to it and if the girl he's hooking up with protests to anything, he just kicks them out without a second thought. With you, though? You're different.
He's taken more virginities than he can count and he wasn't gentle nor did he ease them into it like he probably should have, but with you, he wants to be the sweet and gentle guy you believe him to be. And he hates that. He hates how you softened him as it's really ruined his reputation and now people are starting to think that he's approachable when he spent his entire life building up this wall that you were able to tear down in only a matter of weeks. Well, he should be mad, but he's not. He could never be mad at you.
You turn towards him, taking a deep breath before wrapping your arms around his neck. You're wearing that smile that never fails to make him melt and his heart is starting to feel like a blanket that's warm from the dryer. You brush some hair away from his face and lean in for a kiss. This is everything Billy is against. He hates kissing and foreplay. He likes to go hard and that it.
But your lips are always so warm, like two soft pillows. And they taste like that lip gloss he sees you putting on every time you get into his car. He's so into kissing you that he thinks he might actually let you make out before he gets to business.
"C'mere," he says against your lips, patting his lap and you're quick to obey, straddling his waist and he can't help but think about how pretty you look on top of him. Maybe after a few times, he'll actually let you top him, which you should consider a treat because Billy would normally rather drop dead than be a bottom.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He's already asked this question multiple times, but he just wants to be certain. Even though he's never seen it that way, he knows this is a big step for you, and for once, he doesn't think he's worthy.
"I'm sure," you respond as you press a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet just like you. You kiss him again and his brain short circuits just like always. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as you deepen the kiss by slipping your tongue into his mouth.
You both moan at the sensation of your tongues swirling around each other and Billy gets a little adventurous as his hands slide up your shirt, his rough hands resting against your bare back. He's so not used to this, but he can't say he hates it. He actually likes taking his time to enjoy what he's doing instead of pushing you onto the bed and going hard until you come then kick you out as soon as your orgasm.
After you finish, he thinks he'll invite you to stay and pull you into his arms before the two of you fall asleep. He wants to wake up next to you and have you stay for breakfast where the two of you will make conversation over Susan's famous pancakes before he walks you to your car where you'll share a sweet car before he sees you off.
God, when did he turn into a fucking pussy and when did he start liking it? Before you came around, he made fun of guys who behaved the way he currently is. He's never been a relationship guy so why does he kind of want to be your boyfriend?
"Can I take this off?" He asks and you nod.
"Use your words, doll."
"Yes." He slips your shirt over your head and tosses it to the side as he takes in your lacy black bra. Oh, so you came prepared. "D-do you like it?" You ask, leaning back just a bit so he can see the full bra.
"Fuck," is all he's able to respond. "Beautiful, doll."
"Good," you smile. "Because I bought it for you." His eyes bug out at your confession and you're sure that this is the first time you've ever shocked Billy.
"You did not." No one's ever bought lingerie for him so he has to admit that it's thrown him off. But he's more than honored that you did so even though he doesn't think he deserves it.
"I did," you nod as you bring your bottom lip between your teeth, suddenly feeling nervous by your confession.
"Well, you look hot. But you know where this would look even better?"
"Where?" You ask even though you already know what he's going to say. His hands slide up to the clasp of the bra as he leans in, his lips right in front of your ear.
"The floor," he says, bringing his voice down just slightly, but it's enough to drive you crazy. He then nips your earlobe which causes you to gasp then pulls away as he unhooks your bra. He then pulls it away from your body, tossing it towards wherever your shirt landed.
So you won't feel alone, he takes off his own shirt, his abs on display that you can't take your eyes off of. You're both ogling each other and for whatever reason, you don't feel as shy as you thought you would have. You trust Billy and know that he'll treat you like you deserve.
"You're-fuck-you're gorgeous," he sighs as he stares at your tits before pulling you closer so that you're chest to chest.
"So are you." His cheeks burn at the compliment as you think it's cute that you're able to make him blush.
"Are you ready?" He asks as his mossy eyes bore into yours with that sweet look he never gives anyone else.
"Yes," you nod and Billy slowly turns you over, gently lying you onto the bed as if you're some fragile thing he's so scared of breaking. "Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?" You nod even though you're super eager to just get right to it.
He lowers himself down on top of you, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss. Your lips move together and all Billy can think about is how he could just do this all night and be satisfied. His hands find yours and he intertwines your fingers as he kisses his way down to your neck.
He peppers the spot with kisses, slowly introducing his tongue, warming you up for the hickey he's going to give you. He's given you a few during make out sessions but never like this as this is already more intimate with the two of you being topless.
He then starts to suck and that's a feeling that you're still not quiet used to, but it just feels so good that you don't dare tell him to stop. You whine in response to the sensation and swear you feel Billy's dick twitch against you.
He's licking and sucking and you wonder how someone can be so talented with just their mouth. How he's able make you feel like mush with just his lips and tongue. But then he bites down and that undoes you. You moan loudly, feeling yourself progressively getting wetter between your legs with each bite.
His hands let go of yours and slip between your bodies before he starts to unbutton your jeans. He looks up at you as he slowly slides them down your body, looking for any signs of hesitance. Once they're off, he goes for your panties, and those are off a little quicker. They fly across the room and he gets himself undressed, his cock and his giant bush on full display.
It's big, of course it is. You've heard all of the girls he's slept with talk about it. You would just nod along and not quite believe them because you never actually thought it'd be inside you. But now that you're actually seeing it, you're positive that they weren't lying.
Billy grabs hold of your thighs and spreads them wide so he can get a good look at what he's working with. As soon as he gets a glimpse of your sopping wet pussy, he gets the urge to comment on it like he does to all of his hook ups, but he says nothing because he wants to be respectful.
He spreads them just a little wider as lines himself up with you, but he doesn't get inside just yet. He feels like he needs to be honest with you first.
"I-I just realized that I don't have any condoms," he says, an apologetic look on his face as he breaks the news to you. "I don't usually use them because I've got a big cock and they're-"
"Hey," you cut him as you sit up, taking his hands in yours. "It's okay. I'm on birth control and you can just pull out, right?"
"Right," he laughs, feeling silly for freaking out. You press a kiss to his knuckles before lying back, spreading your legs again. Billy grabs hold of your hips as he slides in slowly, wincing when you do because he can only imagine just how badly it hurts.
This is probably some of the worst pain you've ever been in, and he's only got the tip in, but god does it feel good. He starts off slow, thrusting in and out at a glacial and you're moaning at every push, un able to keep your responses to yourself.
You appreciate how gentle he's being with you, but you can't help but what more. You want the hot, rough sex you always hear the girls bragging about. You want him to fuck you so hard you're forced to stay in bed for a few days.
You buck your hips against, trying to make him get the hint and it seems to go right over his head to you have to resort to other measures. You grab hold of his hips and buck yours against them while using his to show him exactly you want.
"Are-are you sure?" He asks, wondering where his innocent girl went.
"Positive. Fuck me like an animal." Your eyes are growing dark and Billy can see that you actually mean it. You're not just saying it just because you know that's what he likes.
So his grip on your hips tightens, his nails digging into your skin as he goes a little harder, but not hard enough apparently because he feels a hard slap on his ass. His eyes snap up to you and you seem angry, still bucking your hips against his, still trying to show him what you want from him.
"Fine, you want animal, doll? I'll give you animal. But don't act like you didn't ask for it." He pounds into you and you gasp at the feeling as he slides even more of his cock inside you, going deeper with every thrust.
You're coming undone progressively by the second, your brain now complete mush as Billy continues to give you what you want. He's moving so fast now that all you can hear is the skin slapping against skin as the two of you switch off moaning.
Billy has to admit that this is the first time he's actually ever care about making a girl come and as you lie beneath him, moaning, and whining and bucking your hips against his, he can't help but feel a sense of pride at how good he's making you feel.
If he's being honest, he usually drowns out the sounds, so focused on how he's feeling and only zoning back in when he hears the big one so he knows when to pull out. Yours though, yours are hot and he's sure that they'll stick in his head even after tonight.
It's coming, he can feel it. After he started going hard, he knew you weren't going to last very long. You have lasted longer than he initially thought. But now you're slurring so he think it's almost time to call it quits.
"Come on, one more, alright? Gotta get you there, doll. I mean, looking at how good you're taking me." He gives a couple more thrusts and watches you orgasm beneath him, counting down the seconds until he can make you do it again because, fuck was that hot.
He then pulls out and instead of kicking you out, he loans you one of his shirt and the two of you get into his bed before he pulls you to his chest, lighting up a cigarette as his pretty girl sleeps.
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starboye · 28 days ago
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my favorite ride
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it was a tough night, first of all not only were you, sam, and dean almost beaten by a group of vampires, the car also doesn't wanna seem to work so you guys stop at a motel to stay the night, it was alright, nothing to back, but nothing like the four seasons of orlando
"thank god they had a two bed" dean breaths a sigh of relief plopping down on the kinda comfortable mattress "what you dont wanna sleep with us" you tease him also plopping down "you two freaks no thank you" dean shoots back and after some showering and a little television you guys fall asleep
that is until sam wakes up from a particularly sexy dream that had him subconsciously grinding on you "y/n wake up" he shakes you awake "what san" you groggily reply "i need you" he whispers already kissing you down your neck "your brother's right there" you try to stop him
"if we just stay quiet he wont hear" he starts slowly dragging down your underwear and lifting your leg "lets just go fuck in the car" you say stopping him finally and immediately he likes the idea, sneakily you and him get out of bed and to the car, it takes no time to get your clothes off when you get in the backseat
"fuck i love you so much" sam mutters kissing all over your exposed chest "oh yeah" you ask grinding on his crotch, feeling him getting hard under you "show me" you say and sam is quick to spit onto his hand to lube up his cock, easing into you with a small moan "so full" you whine but your cut off by sams hands finding their place on your waist
bouncing you up and down in his aching dick "fuck fuck fuck" he grunts with every bounce, you soon matched his pace with the rocking of your hips making this an even more enjoyable experience for the both of you, the car moving back and forth with each move you both made, sam lands a smack on your ass, then another, then one more making you let out a small wince
"im sorry baby im sorry" he kisses you "dont be i liked it" you smile with a heavy breath "such a slut" he leans forward to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you waist to still control the pace he's going in and out of you "doing so good for me, you're my good boy right" he asks to which you smile a little
"only for you" you say kissing him back even deeper, you snake your hand downward to stroke yourself but sam stops you and does it himself, wrapping his hand around your dick and slowly stroking it "goddamn" your breath hitches in your throat from how good it feels "mhm, feel good" he smirks
"yeah, fuck just like that" you moan, and not even five minutes into him jerking you off you already felt like you were gonna cum and he could tell "you gonna cum" he asks kissing you down your neck "mhm" you nod wrapping your arms around his neck and whimpering "go ahead cum" he coos and with that you unload all over his hand, coating it white
"now, want me to cum in you" he asks now thrusting upward into you "fuck yes please sam" you moan loudly but sam quiets you with a kiss before dumping his load in you, spurting rope after rope until his balls were empty, you both filled the car with your huffing and panting "we should get back in their before dean notices we're gone" you say licking the cum from sams hand
"well it's not like he's gonna wake up anytime soon, so I say we could go another round" he massages your ass, slowly turning over to lay on the seat with you on top "and didn't you say you were mad how we couldn't get alone time" he continues "well i guess" you lean down to kiss him "well then im all yours for the rest of the night" he smiles against your lips
xoxo, starboye💋
(i did this for lukey so he could give me a brownie and he said he'd give me two 😃 im gonna eat this shit downnnn so gimme a minute)
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taglist: @mailmango @boypied @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac @r0mcom-8ngel
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sh4nksslvt · 2 months ago
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Romance By Impact
A series of unfortunate training accidents, unexpected collisions, and very confused pirates—featuring awkward kisses, deadpan reactions, and maybe a few new feelings.
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shanks x reader | zoro x reader | mihawk x reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, accidental kiss, light romance a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff a bit cringe, akward, and confusing word count: 3k
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
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SHANKS
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The tavern was rowdy in the way only a Red-Haired Pirates pit stop could be—laughter bursting at the seams, ale spilling like waterfalls, and someone’s boot hanging from the ceiling for no discernible reason.
You were seated at your usual corner table, safely tucked away from the wildest parts of the madness but still within arm’s reach of chaos if it happened to wander over. Which it always did. Because, of course, you were with them.
Tonight, chaos arrived in the form of Lucky Roux barrel-rolling across the floor, chasing after a chicken that had apparently stolen his sandwich.
You sipped your drink without blinking.
“Should we stop him?” you asked no one in particular.
“Nah,” came Shanks’s cheerful voice as he flopped down next to you, drink in one hand, and a smirk stretched wide across his sun-warmed face. “Roux’s gotta work through that betrayal himself.”
You tilted your head, watching the chase. “That chicken has excellent footwork.”
Shanks snorted. “It’s always the poultry you least expect.”
He nudged your shoulder with his, and the casual warmth of his presence settled around you like a blanket that smelled faintly of salt, rum, and trouble. You’d been with the crew long enough that this kind of night was practically a lullaby—boisterous, ridiculous, and, in a strange way, comforting.
“Bet you five hundred berries Benn falls asleep with his eyes open again,” you said.
“Double if he does it standing up,” Shanks countered immediately, raising his mug.
You clinked glasses in solemn agreement, like any two upstanding degenerates would.
The crew roared around you—music blaring, a couple of drunk pirates arguing over whether a narwhal could beat a sea king in an underwater arm-wrestling match—and for once, nothing too insane was happening.
Until it did.
It started innocently enough, as these things tend to.
Yasopp challenged Shanks to a drinking game. You were pulled in as the impartial referee, a decision that now, in hindsight, seemed… foolish.
Very foolish.
“I swear on my entire alcohol stash that I won’t cheat,” Shanks said solemnly, hand on his heart.
You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know the rules yet.”
“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “So I can’t cheat if I don’t know how.”
“…You are so full of crap.”
“Don’t judge me with those eyes,” he said dramatically. “Your judgment is louder than Benn’s gun.”
The drinking game was a disaster within two minutes. Shanks was supposed to drink only when you called “go,” but he insisted he had “emotional premonitions” of when the right time was, which led to half the table being soaked in rum, and you nearly getting knocked off your seat laughing when Yasopp fake-passed out from "betrayal."
The grand finale happened during a particularly rowdy round, when Shanks, in the middle of turning to dodge a flying peanut (launched by a vengeful Lucky Roux, still chicken-less), whipped his head around—and smacked right into you.
Forehead, nose, lips.
An accidental kiss.
A very smack-worthy, full-on, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss.
There was a beat of silence as your heads bumped slightly, your faces still awkwardly close. He blinked at you. You blinked back.
“…Well,” you said, completely calm, “that’s one way to dodge a peanut.”
Shanks blinked again, then burst out laughing, tipping backward so hard he almost fell off the bench.
“You—” he wheezed between laughs. “You just got accidentally smooched, and your only comment is about a peanut?! DAHAHAHA”
You took another sip of your drink. “You missed the peanut. Poor reflexes.”
“I’m an emperor of the sea!”
“With poor reflexes.”
The table erupted in laughter. Yasopp fell off his chair. Benn, true to the bet, was already dozing with his eyes half-open in the corner.
Later that night, the party simmered down into lazy chuckles and off-key sea shanties. You and Shanks were still at the table, now sharing a plate of spicy skewers someone had abandoned (their mistake).
“So,” he said eventually, nudging you again. “About the kiss.”
You looked up from your skewer squinting at him. “You’re not gonna propose or anything, right?”
He almost choked. “What?!”
“Some people get very dramatic about first kisses,” you said matter-of-factly. “If you were about to declare undying love and offer me a life of sword-swinging romance, I was gonna need at least three more drinks.”
He stared at you for a moment. Then grinned, slow and wide.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
Shanks stretched, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “I was gonna make a cheesy joke about how that kiss stole my breath away, but now I feel like you’d hit me.”
“I might. Gently.”
“Deserved,” he admitted.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, settled deep into the bones of the night, the kind of silence that says we’re fine, we’re good, we’re idiots, and it’s okay.
Then Shanks leaned his elbow on the table and gave you a smirk that was half mischief, half curiosity.
“But seriously,” he said, “not even a little flustered?”
You thought for a second, then shook your head.
“You’re not my first accidental kiss, Shanks.”
He gawked. “What?”
“There was this thing with some guy once,” you said, picking up another skewer. “He fell asleep mid-training, woke up, swung his sword, tripped, face-planted into mine. Lips. Boom. Instant nap buddy.”
Shanks looked personally betrayed.
“I thought we had something special.”
You shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. “Sorry, I’m a walking magnet for chaos. If anything, this makes us even.”
He was quiet for a beat, then started chuckling again.
“You know,” he said, grinning, “I think I might like that about you.”
“Not the chaos part, right?”
“No, especially that part.”
You rolled your eyes, bumping shoulders with him again. “You’re lucky I’m immune to charm.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”
You turned to him, deadpan. “Try aiming better next time. If you're going to kiss me, at least make it count.”
There was a beat of stunned silence.
And then Shanks’s grin turned absolutely feral.
“Oh-ho-ho,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”
You got up, stretched lazily, and patted his head like one might a particularly smug golden retriever.
“It’s a ‘you spilled sauce on your shirt’ distraction, actually.”
He looked down.
There was no sauce.
You were already halfway to the door.
“Hey!” he called after you, laughing. “That’s cheating!”
You raised your mug in a mock-toast without turning around. “So are emotional premonitions, Captain!”
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ZORO
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The sun was brutal. The kind of heat that could fry an egg on the deck of the Thousand Sunny if you weren’t careful—or cook your brain if you were dumb enough to train during it.
Which is why you, naturally, were dumb enough to train during it.
“Your stance is all over the place,” Zoro grunted from where he stood, shirtless and already glistening with sweat. His swords were tucked under one arm like an afterthought.
You adjusted your footing. “You said that five minutes ago.”
“And it’s still true five minutes later. Amazing, right?”
“You’re a terrible teacher,” you muttered, shifting again.
Zoro snorted. “And you’re a terrible student. So we’re even.”
It was a typical afternoon—Zoro had been training solo on the upper deck until you wandered in with a practice sword and what you claimed was a completely reasonable curiosity about swordsmanship. He, of course, took this as a challenge to prove why he was the best swordsman on the ship.
You took it as a challenge to mildly annoy him while improving your footwork.
“You're using too much shoulder,” he said, stepping around you. “All power, no control.”
“You sound like Sanji when he critiques my chopping skills.”
Zoro scoffed. “Don’t lump me in with the eyebrow.”
You grinned. “Hit a nerve, mosshead?”
“Try again, and I’ll knock you on your ass.”
“Oh no, sensei, I’m quaking.”
Zoro rolled his eyes, stepping in to correct your posture, hands rough but surprisingly careful as he nudged your wrist and shoulder into position. He stood too close for it to be entirely comfortable—not for you, at least—and his breath was warm against your ear when he muttered, “Now, swing.”
You did.
Too fast. Too hard. Too ambitious.
Zoro moved to block—too late.
There was a flurry of movement. Your feet caught on each other. His elbow knocked into yours. Balance gone. Two bodies tumbling—
And then—
Wham.
His weight half on top of you. The practice sword somewhere nearby, long forgotten. His lips smashed awkwardly against yours—messy, breathless, more collision than kiss.
Silence.
Hot, stifling, vaguely sandy silence.
Zoro lifted his head, eyes wide like someone had just hit him with a frying pan. His nose bumped yours again.
You blinked at him.
“Well,” you said, voice dry, “that’s one way to teach me about impact.”
Zoro scrambled back like he’d been electrocuted, nearly tripping over his own sword in the process.
“I—I didn’t—That wasn’t—” he pointed at you, flushed, eyes wild. “You fell!”
“Correct,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I was there.”
“We collided!”
“Yep.”
“Your face was just—right there!”
“I imagine it still is.”
Zoro stared at you like you’d grown a second head. You sat up fully, dusting off your shirt, and glanced around.
“Honestly,” you said casually, “I’ve had worse landings.”
“That was your mouth!”
“Well, it wasn’t your foot, so I’m counting my blessings.”
He stood there, mouth slightly agape, looking like his brain had entered maintenance mode. You picked up your fallen practice sword and twirled it idly.
“Anyway,” you added, giving him a once-over. “You okay? You didn’t, like, sprain your pride or anything?”
Zoro blinked. “I—I kissed you!”
You looked at your wrist like you were checking an invisible watch.
“And I’m still breathing,” you said. “So no emergency.”
“You’re weirdly calm about this.”
“Zo, you once mistook a cactus for a training dummy and challenged it to a duel. Our standards for ‘weird’ are skewed.”
Zoro turned scarlet.
“That was one time.”
“I still have the sketch Usopp made of it.”
“I will burn it.”
You shrugged, walking past him toward the rail to stretch your sore legs. “Go for it. I have backups.”
He followed after a second, still visibly flustered, arms folded tightly across his chest.
“So,” he said slowly, suspiciously, “you’re not… mad?”
You looked at him. “Mad? You tripped and accidentally kissed me. I’m not gonna sue you for emotional damages.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I know.”
“It wasn’t, like, a move or anything—”
“I know.” You smiled, folding your arms. “Though if it was, I gotta say—clumsy technique. Room for improvement.”
That shut him up.
For about three seconds.
“You’re infuriating.”
“You kissed me.”
“That doesn’t mean I like you!”
You raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say you did.”
More silence.
Then Zoro turned abruptly toward the rail and muttered, “Well, maybe I do.”
You stared.
He stared harder at the horizon.
“…Did you just confess to the ocean?”
“It’s neutral ground.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“And you’re annoying.”
You stepped closer, bumping your shoulder against his.
“Do you always fall on top of people when you’re into them?”
“Only the ones who can take it.”
You smiled, surprised and not surprised at the same time.
“I’m flattered.”
He side-eyed you, still red in the ears. “So… you don’t mind?”
“The accidental kiss? Or the part where you basically admitted you like me?”
“Both.”
You gave it a moment. Then shrugged. “I don’t mind either.”
He blinked. “Seriously?”
You looked him up and down. “You’re hot, skilled with three swords, and somehow managed to trip and kiss me without impaling either of us. That's impressive.”
“You have low standards.”
“I have realistic standards. And I’ve seen you snore in a tree upside-down. I’m not exactly expecting poetry and roses.”
“…Good. I don’t do that stuff.”
“Obviously.”
You leaned on the railing beside him.
“You know,” you said casually, “if you want to properly kiss me sometime, you could just ask.”
Zoro stiffened.
Then, very slowly, he said: “…You mean, like... on purpose?”
You nodded. “Yeah. With mouth coordination and everything.”
He looked like he was solving a physics equation in his head.
“That’s… bold of you.”
“I am bold.”
He glanced at you, then at your mouth, then away again, scowling like it personally offended him.
“Maybe later.”
You grinned. “You say that like I’m on a schedule.”
He muttered something under his breath that sounded like “annoying brat,” but didn’t walk away.
Later that night, you found a small bundle of snacks on your bunk—your favorite, carefully tied with a red string.
There was no note.
But Zoro was mysteriously missing from post-dinner drinks.
And when you found him again, fast asleep on the training deck with a slight smile and a very obvious blush…
You didn’t say a word.
But you did steal his bandana and left a note in its place:
“Next time, I’m aiming for your mouth. On purpose.”
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MIHAWK
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The first thing you learned after arriving on Kuraigana Island was that everything was too quiet.
The second thing you learned was that Mihawk didn't do "chit-chat."
He spoke in silences and glances, moved like a blade through shadow, and regarded most human emotion with the polite detachment of someone observing a minor weather event.
You weren’t sure why he agreed to let you stay, but you weren’t complaining. Something about “discipline” and “training potential.” Or maybe he just liked the sound of your sword clashing against his—it was hard to tell.
Currently, the clash in question was taking place in the overgrown courtyard behind his castle. Vines curled along shattered pillars, moss blanketed stone steps, and two crows cawed disapprovingly as Mihawk parried your strike with less effort than someone brushing lint from a coat.
“Tighter grip,” he said, flicking your blade aside.
“I have a tight grip,” you huffed, adjusting your footing. “My bones are humming.”
“Your technique is humming,” he replied, stepping around you. “Your bones are just trying to keep up.”
You gave him a look. He returned it with a subtle, unimpressed tilt of his head.
“I’m going to hit you eventually,” you muttered.
“Unlikely.”
“Says the man with a bird for a butler.”
“Perona talks more than you. And she’s a ghost.”
You lunged again—he sidestepped effortlessly. Your momentum carried you forward, and before you could recover, Mihawk moved. A blur. His hand on your arm, redirecting. Your balance tipped.
One misstep.
You fell.
So did he.
Right on top of you.
His hat flew off.
Your mouths met in a brief, surprised, and completely accidental kiss.
It was soft. Barely a second. Warm. Smelled faintly of red wine and leather.
Then—
He blinked.
You blinked.
The crows blinked, probably.
“…Well,” you said, still flat on your back. “That’s one way to parry.”
Mihawk didn’t move immediately. His face was inches from yours. He was clearly calculating something—trajectory, blame, moral ramifications, possible prison time.
Then he leaned back, brushed nonexistent dust from his coat, and offered a gloved hand.
“I believe that qualifies as a technical error,” he said flatly.
You took his hand and stood. “Are you talking about my stance or the kiss?”
“The latter,” he said. Then, after a pause, “The former was already unsalvageable.”
You snorted. “Charming as always.”
“Mm.”
He turned to retrieve his sword, as if he hadn’t just accidentally kissed someone in the middle of sword training on an abandoned island.
You rubbed your jaw. “You kissed me.”
“I landed on you.”
“Lips-first.”
“That was not intentional.”
“Shame. You’re weirdly good at it.”
Mihawk paused mid-step. His eye flicked to you like a dagger. You could’ve sworn one of the crows wheezed.
“I am proficient in many skills,” he said at last.
You nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll add ‘spontaneous kissing’ to the list.”
“Remove ‘self-preservation,’ while you’re at it.”
You grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”
He turned back toward the castle with his usual smooth grace, pausing just long enough to say over his shoulder:
“You’re due for footwork drills. Ten laps.”
“For kissing you?”
“For falling.”
“Again, you fell too.”
“And yet here I am. Standing. Composed.”
“Smug.”
He didn’t deny it.
You did your laps. Begrudgingly. Grumbling.
By sunset, Mihawk was seated on the stone steps, wine in hand, his sword resting beside him like an extension of his arm. You joined him, flopping down with a huff and sweat-damp hair.
“You planning to avoid talking about it forever?” you asked.
He sipped his wine. “Define ‘it.’”
“The part where you kissed me.”
He glanced sideways. “Do you truly require verbal confirmation of what your mouth already knows?”
You blinked. “Is that your version of flirting?”
“It’s my version of clarity.”
You stared at him. “So you’re not denying it?”
“I am denying the accident. Not the effect.”
You tried not to visibly short-circuit. “That was almost romantic.”
“I could try again,” he said calmly, still watching the horizon.
“Oh yeah?”
“Properly this time.”
You hesitated.
Then turned to face him. “Alright.”
He looked at you fully now, gold eye sharp, steady. There was no dramatic lean-in. No swelling music or cinematic pause.
He just placed his wine down, leaned in slowly, and kissed you.
Softly.
Deliberately.
His lips were cool from the wine, but his hand warm as it rested lightly on your jaw. No rush. No fumble.
Just precision. Control.
Steel and silk.
When he pulled back, you were pretty sure the crows had tactfully flown off.
“Well,” you said faintly. “I see why people fear you.”
“Because I kiss well?”
“Because you do everything like it’s a duel.”
He raised a brow. “Is that a complaint?”
“Not in the slightest.”
You leaned back, satisfied. “So... are we dating now?”
“That depends,” he said. “Will it interfere with training?”
“Only if you kiss me mid-swing.”
He gave the faintest smile. “Then we’ll manage.”
Later, you found a red wine left near your sword. Wrapped with black ribbon. No note.
Very Mihawk.
You kissed his cheek in the morning.
He didn’t protest.
But your next sparring session? Brutal.
You limped for three days.
© dollywons for the dividers <3
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