#so you don’t have to do the stinky shifts you don’t like

[artsywitchling]

People are genuinely just trying to drag each other down, I feel.

Today my coworker asked what I did before I started working at the bakery and I told her I studied illustration, but since it can be difficult to build up a whole life as an illustrator this instant, I chose to take on this job instead for now. Then she asked about my age and I told her I’m 28 years old.

She then looked at me belittling. After I asked about what her deal is, she said at my age, I should have it all together. And I fucking hate her for that.

I am not too old. I am taking longer because of my own reasons that aren’t her business. But how dare telling a person you barely even know, that they’re doing something wrong or that they are taking to long!

How absolutely thoughtless can one person be to judge someone after spending just 5 hours next to each other. She has no right to make her assumptions.

I’m just really really angry about that.

[emmyrosee]

Kuroo Tetsuro was put on this earth to have children.

Before your little twins were even a thought, he’d look longingly at young couples with kids, watching with the most dazed expression. He was always the first to smile at infants, wave at toddlers, and if the accompanying parents seemed to welcome his affections, he’d ask the young children questions.

So, the gods blessed him with twins. And 9 times out of 10, he’s the most thorough father you’ve ever known, and he’s so quick to know which child needs what, when, and why.

Right now, however, is the 1 out of 10. And it’s funny.

“There’s a tiny human at the end of our bed,” he whispers against your head, the raspiness of his voice rumbling against your temple.

“I sincerely hope you mean one of our children.”

Your joke makes Tetsuro laugh, slowly sitting up to peek at the cutest intruder in your doorway.

“Good morning, baby,” he mumbles, thick fingers pressing into his eyes to rub the sleep from them. You smile at your daughter at the foot of your bed, sleepily gazing at your little girl. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good, dadda,” she mumbles around her pacifier.

“Yeah? Where’s your sister?”

“Sleepin’.”

“She’s still sleeping?” He says, yawning softly, an arm wrapping around you to pull you closer. “How come you’re not still sleeping?”

“Bluey!” She squeals excitedly, pointing at the tv in your room.

This, has your husband’s eyes furrowing. His body shifts slightly, and his eyes dart to span over her tiny frame.

“You want to watch Bluey?” He asks, and you cock your brow up at him in confusion for his confusion.

“Uh-huh!” She crawls onto the foot of your bed with a finger extended to the big screen, “Bluey, please?”

“What’s wrong?” You whisper, grabbing the remote and clicking the tv so your tiny child is occupied.

Tetsuro leans over, pulling you close, enough to where his warm breath spans over your face.

“I don’t know which one that is,” he whispers, and you let out a soft snort.

“You really don’t know?”

“I know Hanako likes Bluey, but Hanae’s favorite pair of pj’s is the one that’s being worn right now.”

Your eyes flick back down to the figure at the bottom of your bed, who indeed, is wearing Hanae’s favorite green pajamas (Hanako’s are yellow), but is watching Bluey like no one’s business (Hanae immensely prefers paw patrol).

And in his defense… they are twins.

Looking the same is kind of what they do.

“What about her eyes?” You whisper back. Hanae has eyes like her fathers, while Hanako’s are more akin to yours.

“Couldn’t get a good look, it’s too early!”

“Pacifier color?”

“Baby they switch those regularly, you know better than to ask.”

Chewing on your lip, your eyes shift over your child’s excited eyes watching the tv. It’s true, if they weren’t identical enough, now they have to go and switch the few things that make them different.

“Who are you?” Tetsuro asks to no one, though it does make you giggle.

Then, you smile and slowly sit up, patting your husband’s chest lovingly. “Hey stinky,” you call, and you watch her messy black hair swish as she turns to face you. “Who do you like to hang out with more, uncle ken or uncle ko?”

The tiny human beams around the pacifier in her mouth, “uncle ko! ‘Cause he plays pirates with me in ‘da pool!”

You and tetsuro look at each other and grin.

Hanae.

Hanako was absolutely whipped for her uncle kenma.

“We should see him soon, shouldn’t we?” You ask, watching as Hanae bounces excitedly.

Tetsuro rolls his eyes as he sits up, “not before we see uncle Kenma, he’s already pouty that you like uncle Koutaro more, and I gotta hear about it.”

“Of course she likes him more,” you tease, slipping out of bed to start the day. “Hanae is practically attached to Koutarou’s leg; she told us she was going to marry him one day, remember?

“Gonna marry Uncle Kou one day!” Hanae chirps. “N’ Hanako’s gonna marry Uncle Kenma, ‘nd we’re all gonna marry Uncle Kei, and-“

“Do not do this to me so early,” Tetsuro groans, patting the bed for the little girl to snuggle with him. She does, with a happy little noise and a quick scurry close to him, and you can only watch with a smile as they watch Bluey together in the rays of the sun before shuffling off to make breakfast.

[impishjesters]

Rambley x Homeless!Reader (SFW)

relationship: can be read platonically or romantically notes: the reader has no gender or pronouns used. Rambley might comes off sounding a little protective/yandere, it's entirely up to you if he's just being protective or a yandere. A/N: There's not much to work with for Rambley content but I had this little idea and it's been eating away at me so I tried to write a bit of it. I might work on the main story itself just for myself for shits and giggles.

Rambley always hates it when you leave the park. He knows you don’t have a choice, the park no longer has food and anything that had been left behind has long since molded. So he knows there’s nothing he can do about it, you’re only human after all.

It’s been forty minutes since you left, forty long minutes since Rambley saw you off at the furthest screen he could reach by the entrance. He prattled on about strangers, avoiding sketchy-looking areas, the whole spiel as if you hadn’t been surviving on your own all these years before finally taking up a home in the abandoned Indigo Park.

A whole hour and a half passed before Rambley picked up movement at the entrance, quickly flicking to life on the screen, face mushed against the screen. He saw you carrying an armful of plastic shopping bags—and most importantly you looked unharmed.

You spot Rambley awaiting you on the screen and approach him excitedly, showing the bags of your latest outing. “I scored some good stuff!”Rambley pressed his face further into the screen, his face a mix of worry and relief all in one. “You’ve been gone for one hour and thirty-two minutes!” He leaned away from the screen but kept his hands on the edges of the screen. If he could shake the monitor you know he would. “I’ve been worried sick! What if something happened to you? I-I can’t help you if that happens!”

Although it’s not uncommon for Rambley to have a little freak out every time you leave Indigo Park, this was a little more than his usual freakout. A brief look of worry washes over you as you step away and further into the park, missing Rambley’s expression as he frantically follows to a different screen as you head straight for one of the screens more at your height in the shop.

“Hey, Rambley it’s okay! I’m okay.” You set the bags on the ground and give him a little spin around, showing you were completely unharmed. “I’m sorry for taking longer than my usual hour.”

Rambley’s eyes flick around the screen as he examines you, his ears pressed flat before he determines you don’t look more messy than normal. “Okay…” His mood completely shifts, ears perk, and eyes curious. “So whatcha get?!” Surely you got good stuff if it took an extra thirty-two minutes and forty-three seconds to get.”

Turning away from him you roll your eyes and lift the bags up, setting them on the nearby counter. “The first aid kits here still have bandages but any ointments are expired, so I managed to get some antibacterial ointment and a little bottle of iodine.”

The raccoon oo’s and ah’s each item you pull out, chin resting on his little paws with fascination and curiosity.

“The lady was also really nice and gave me a discount for the toiletries.” You placed down two bottles, one of shampoo and another of conditioner, as well as two cheaply wrapped bars of soap. It’d probably feel like shit on your skin but the scent was okay and it beat staying covered in filth all the time.

Beggers can’t be choosers after all.

His nose twitched slightly when he saw the soap bars, he couldn’t smell it but he just had an inkling those little bars held a cheap perfume smell to them. Stinky.

You show him a cheap little sewing kit with some thread to fix up your old clothes, a bottle of pain meds and two cheap washcloths. Rambley eyes another bag behind you that seemed far more full than this bag had been.

“What about that bag?” He pokes the screen and you look at the bag he’s pointing at before abandoning the items in your hand with excitement.

“Ah!” The bag rips slightly as you pull it across the countertop and open it up. “The lady also gave me a really good deal for these cans, they’re all dented but otherwise completely fine.”

You hold one of the dented cans up for him to see and his face scrunched up. “Is that safe to eat still? It’s not damaged?”

“It’s not opened and that’s all I care about.” You shrug your shoulder and start taking the cans out of the bag, rattling off the various canned goodies.

Rambley’s face shifts through each food you list off, some with curiosity and some with disgust. Thank god he can’t eat, some of those sound awful! When you’re finished showing him the cans he exhales and watches you from his usual position on screen.

“Well, I’m glad you got a lucky haul!” He shrinks a little on-screen and fidgets with his hands. “So… this means you won’t have to leave the park for a few days at least, yeah?”

After you finish checking over that you weren’t missing anything you hum in thought. “I should be good for a little bit yeah, I still have the rest of my stuff.” You glance over at the pile of things Rambley kept safe for you when you were gone, making sure it was still there.

Of course, it was, nobody but you had been dumb enough to break into the park and wander around. In hindsight you’re very grateful that you did, it led you to Rambley, which led to having a consistent place to sleep, a home.

“Oh goodie!” Rambley danced on the screen before flicking to one of the much larger screens. “How about you put that all away and tell me about all the things you saw? Don’t leave any details out!”You tuck your new belongings with your old ones and make yourself comfortable at the counter, not sparing a detail as you recount your trip into the city.

[ofc-vi-writes-too]

so all ive been able to think about is gotham for the past several days, and more specifically how gothamite culture has to be SO drastically different and jarring to literally anywhere else in the world. Like even other super cities like metropolis, or central city, or wherever else are at least KINDA normal. Like yea u have superman or wonderwoman or the flash but they dont really have to deal with the same level of bs as Gotham.

That being said here are a list of things that I think are extremely normal to Gotham, and other things that happen in thay horrible little city:

• the episode of Hot Ones with Brucie Wayne where no one thinks he’ll even be able to stand the 2nd or 3rd wing but he eats all of them with no reaction, and Sean Evans (or the in universe equivalent) just sits there like “wow no one has ever had literally no reaction before this is really crazy, and Bruce Wayne of all people?” Afterwards Bruce has second thoughts and realizes that maybe he should have played up his reaction to the spice a bit more. People Inside of Gotham are a little shocked because everytime he eats in public it is the most boring, bland, flavorless food imaginable. (he handled the spice so well because Batman is ready for all potential threats and forms of torture. Ridiculous levels of spice included)

• Gotham schools offer courses in self defense. In some school districts its actually mandatory, thats usually in old gotham or downtown gotham. In more affluent areas, self defense is still taught in schools, but most kids are sent to some ritzy trainer to make sure they can defend themselves.

• No one even blinks when theres a new vigilante by the time Damian comes around. Theres still a little buzz but by the time Duke shows up, people are like “Oh cool another one. HEY BRO WHATS YOUR NAME.” I saw someone post here about how when the Wayne kids get mad at Bruce, they go to Selina and make public appearances as Stray, Catwomans sidekick. I personally believe that Tim was the first one to do it but Dick does it the most, and gothamites didnt even need to get used to Stray showing up sometimes, nor did people really care that Stray was always wildly different heights, shapes, colors, etc. the additude is kinda like “I have taxes and job security to worry about. If a new vigilante is what were doing then so be it.”

• People tend to think that Gothamites aren’t smart, but that city is home to the Richest, smartest, most creative people alive. They mostly just lack morals. Like Dr. Freeze, Harley Quinn, hell even The Riddler are all insanely intelligent. Half of Gothams Villains have at minimum 2 Doctorates in something or other. Gotham generates a lot of cash as a whole, and small businesses thrive there. They have high employment rates, and most citizens have their associates despite everything happening around them. People who have never been to Gotham before expect to have to talk down to the citizens but Gothamites just kinda roll their eyes at them and carry on about their merriment.

• Gothamites CONSTANTLY says “because I’m Batman” when they don’t want to explain themselves. Kids hear it a lot from parents and they also get “If you don’t go to sleep, Condiment Man i gonna come and cover you in stinky relish.” Because truly what else is condiment man good for.

• Gothamites who work at BatBurger and typically work the night shift are used to visits from Batman, Robin, Red Hood, Cat Woman, Harley Quinn, etc. Sometimes they remember the workers and ask about their family, and how life is, and other things like that. Theres some barely 18 y/o who just graduated high school who worls at Bat Burger, and asked Red Hood to help him impress his gf by saying theyre friends. He like fuck it why not and tells the gf that the kid helped him save an old lady’s cat in a tree and now theyre bffs. She totally believes it. Score.

• I see the Gotham thinks Batman is Bruce Wayne’s boyfriend theories and raise you: Its pretty common knowledge that Bruce Wayne is Batman, just no one has the heart to tell him. Also theyre scared he will quit if anyone brings it up. So from this Gothamites created the joke that BW and batman are dating and when asked about it in an interview, dick grayson is like “……yes! My adoptive father is dating the guy who dressed up like a bat every night…!”

• this cuased and arguement between Bruce and Dick because no! Bruce isnt dating Batman! (stray was seen again that week) HE IS BATMAN! But fuck now the public thinks theyre a couple so now bruce gets asked about it and hes like “haha yes my spooky bat bf is who i love very dearly!” As punishment He makes Dick bring him flowers in the batsuit because “as far as he is concerned, this is his shithead son’s fault.” Thats a direct quote btw. Little does he know this somehow ties back to Tim Drake before they met.

[trendywaifus]

giving stelle the silent treatment. but this time, you’re not mad at her but yourself. I love stelle and this is an old draft 😞 cw: fem! reader, fluff, not proofread

“. . .(name)? “ STELLE calls your name with concern evident in her voice when she sees you sitting on your side of the shared bed, back facing towards her. everyone’s in the gazebo, enjoying themselves and relaxing in the company of the others. why aren’t you there? it doesn’t feel right when you’re not laughing by her side with everyone else. you don’t say anything or react to her voice. she swallows and makes her way over to your bed side. you’re on your phone, mindlessly scrolling through the galaxnet with a neutral look on your face, stelle’s lips purses into a thin line. what’s with that look? why aren’t you acknowledging her presence? did something happen?

stelle sits down beside you, sun-colored eyes studies your face for a few moments before her focus shift down to your phone screen you’re aimlessly swiping on. quiet, she lean her taller frame into yours as she watches the feed that seems to have your attention. a short funny video of a chubby looking cat flying around with a mini jet pack on its back earns a small giggle from stelle. she decides to circle an arm around your waist and you almost immediately tense up. her heart stings with pang of confusion and hurt.

“ d-did i do something wrong? “ she queries, quickly pulling her arm away to scratch her head with prized puzzlement. you say nothing but your thumb stops moving, you release an audible soft sigh. your sliver–haired girlfriend paused for a moment, pondering over something before she stands up and gets down on her knees in front of you.

her gloved digits brushes against your knuckles as they curl around your hand and bring it up to her cheek. your (e/c) hues pull away from your phone to meets with hers. her brows raise, pretty golden eyes slightly widen to adopt a cute puppy-like expression on her handsome features. “ my little trash bag? the love of my life? my stinkie butt? “

“ stelle— “

“ my twinkle twinkle little star? my cuddle bug—“

“ enough, stelle. enough, please. “ you interrupt, the small corner of your lips slightly curled. stelle sees that as an accomplishment and the first step of solving the issue at hand.

she leans her lips into your palm, giving it a few warm kisses. “ then talk to me, why are you not with us in the parlor car? everyone’s worried about you and i am too. did i do something wrong or— “

“ you didn’t do anything wrong, ‘ella. it’s just me.”your eyelids lower, a frown turning your pretty lips upside down. stelle tilts her head, she presses your hand more into her cheek, silently urging you to continue. “ i feel out of place. i don’t know, it’s such a weird feeling that came over me. i didn’t want to ruin the mood for everyone so i stayed inside of our cabin. i’m sorry for acting like that towards you. you’ve been nothing but a sweetheart—“

“ your sweetheart. “ she corrects smugly and you roll your eyes.

“ yes, my sweetheart—but, you at least get what i’m saying, right? “

stelle bobs her head, “ i do. in my eyes, you’re like my star and to everyone, you’re like family. when you weren’t there with us, something felt missing. “ she stands up again to sit down next to you, still holding onto your hand. your eyes follow your hand being guided to her chest, right where the stellaron was placed within her. “ especially me. “ she says in a hushed voice, looking at you with love stricken eyes.

[xxsugarbones]

WORKING OUT WITH TOJI F.

-just joining your big beefy boyfriend Toji for his workout routine 💕

inspired by @starzu’s “Exercising with your boyfriend” fic found v

cw - fem!reader, plus size!reader, Toji is a real stinky boy but you love it, you sniff him (ya lil nasty), exercising (he’s doing push-ups, you sit on his back), biting, Toji folds you like a pretzel at the end, everything is recorded (consensual)

wc - 1.3k

|| an - Y’all I haven’t even watched JJK yet but I am so feral for Toji it’s not even funny. I love me a deadbeat dead man who could throw me around like a ragdoll if he so pleases 😩

Thinking about exercising with Toji.

He’s doing push-ups in the middle of the living room, all the furniture pushed off to the sides to make room for his bulky body, and a small tripod set up on the coffee table, his phone recording his workout routine so he could watch it back later and decide what he needed to improve on.

You were his good little cheerleader, sitting your plump frame on his broad back, your legs crossed and your hands resting on his shoulders.

At first you’d been hesitant to sit on his back because you were afraid you were too heavy for him, but he had assured you that it would be a good workout for him, that your “pretty little body” would be the perfect weights for him. So, like a good girl, you’d agreed so he didnt have to go dig out his actual weights. (Plus, you would have to be the one to lift them and put them on his back, and you knew very well that would not be a possibility, considering just how heavy they were.) And honestly, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he proceeded with no trouble at all.

He’s been at it for about half an hour now, occasionally taking little breaks by laying on the floor, while you shifted yourself back to straddle his thighs to give him a chance to breathe.

But it wasn’t ever too long before he got back into it, telling you to “sit your pretty ass back down on my back”.

“You got this baby! Doing so well!” You cheered on, leaning down again to rest your hands on his shoulders. His neck and shoulders were damp with sweat, his muscle tank clinging to his skin and loose strands of hair hanging in front of his eyes. He kept his sharp, green eyes focused on the ground, just trying his best to even out his breathing and keep himself in line, but it was getting very difficult with the feeling of your body weight and heat sitting atop him. But he stopped, lowering himself down flat to the ground when you tapped his shoulder three times.

“Lemme try something.” You started. You didn’t get much of a response other than a grunt from the man, who just wanted to continue his workout now that he was in the thick of it. You took that as your cue, shifting your body into a different position. Now you lay down on his back, stomach and chest against his toned muscles, and your arms wrapped around his slutty slim waist, and your nose nuzzled into his neck with a smile on your lips.

‘’m all sweaty, babe, don’t do that.” He huffed, but didn’t say much else as he once again started his push-ups, feeling you smile into his sweaty skin. This was much more comfortable for you. He grumbled out something about you being ‘gross’, which only made you laugh in response.

“But you smell good!”

“I stink.”

“I like you stinky.” Was your response, your hands sliding up underneath the hem of his tank and feeling his sweaty abs. A combined shiver ran through the both of you at the contact- your cool hands against his warm flesh, and he muffled a soft groan by sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You smiled, nose brushing along the tense muscles in his neck and just to prove your point, you tucked your head just beneath his jawline, and took a deep inhale.

“You’re real gross, princess.” He scoffed, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as best he could but really only catching a glimpse of the top of your head. You laughed, pressing a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and humming against the warm skin.

“Yeah but you love it.” You shot back, hands continuing to move around his body. One slid up his abs, moving further and further up his body until it hovered above his chest, the palm of your hand brushing against his nipple and making him tense again. You grinned, gently twisting and tugging at it.

“Gotta stay focused, baby, not much longer now and you’re done.” You teased, moving your lips to his neck again, your teeth ever so softly digging down into the skin, making a point to scrape your sharp canine teeth into the muscle. The groan you managed to rip from Toji was heavenly, and he could feel his already semi-hard cock twitching to life the longer your teeth were sunk into him.

“Playing a dangerous game there.” He hissed, but you paid no mind, just biting down a little harder. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he had flipped your position. He rolled you over so your soft body hit the carpet with a soft ‘thump!’, and he quickly shifted his body above yours so he was pinning you down to the ground, one of his massive hands grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“Toji!” You squeaked, looking up to the taller man with widened eyes, and your thick thighs squeezing together at the sexual tension between the two of you that you were suddenly hyper aware of. Toji’s free hand grabbed onto one of your thighs, yanking it open and holding the underside as he hurled it up and over his shoulder, the heel of your foot digging into the back you had just been laying on not even minutes before.

“Nu-uh, princess, don’t act all shy now when you’ve been actin’ needy this entire fuckin’ time.” He moved his hips forward, pressing his hips against yours, finally making you aware of the little problem you’d caused him during his workout. You whimpered, rolling your hips upwards to grind against him, making Toji sneer, looking down to where your hips connected.

“How ‘bout we do a little workout together, huh?” He started, letting go of your wrists to grab onto your other thigh, hoisting it up onto his other shoulder. Your hips were up and off the ground now, and he leaned his body weight forward, pressing down into you so your thighs pressed against the swell of your stomach and chest. The angle ever so slightly constricted your breathing, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make your brain fuzzy with the excitement for what was about to happen.

“You’re gon’ stretch your muscles for me, and I’m gonna fuck this pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He proposed, his hands smoothing down your thigh to push away the oversized shirt you had stolen from him (despite being a bigger girl, his shirts were still big on you, something drool-worthy), letting it roll up your body to expose your plush stomach, then making his way down to tug at your panties, pulling them flush against your pussy, and moaning at the sight of the wet patch that slowly soaked through the thin fabric. You whined, bucking your hips up towards his face.

“L-Like yoga?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Toji chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your clit through your panties. You whined again, grappling onto the carpet beneath you as he pulled the fabric aside, then used his other hand to quickly pull down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift movement.

“Just keep these gorgeous legs up for me and we won’t have a problem.”

-

By the time you two were finished, Toji had to safely tuck that little video of his “workout” into his ‘HIDDEN’ album in his camera roll. But if you ask him, it was a pretty damn good workout.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 19

Not a Sound

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 3885

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: You reveal your secret.

Author's Note: Thank you soo much for all of the support and encouragement, especially with the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one! 😭💜🙏🏼 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Vaginal Fingering, PIV Sex, Hair-Pulling, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“Can I have a drink?”

Four powerful pirates blinked at you. 

It was strange to be on this side of the coffee table. Buggy sat in your spot on the couch between the other leaders of the Guild, while Shanks had pulled up a chair beside Crocodile.

Your green, velvet chair felt like an examination table. Like you were under a microscope, about to get chopped into tiny pieces to be studied. 

Buggy had clung to you all morning, barely going a moment without touching you during breakfast. You were grateful he hadn’t tried to feed you any fruit. That thought sent your eyes flicking toward the red haired pirate, more bile climbing up your throat. Buggy’s floating hand rested on yours while they all stared, but you couldn’t get yourself to hold onto it. 

“What would you like to–”

“I’ll get it,” you jumped up, cutting Mihawk off, and leaving Buggy’s hand to float alone when you pushed it away to stand. The little bar felt like miles away, and you grabbed the first thing you could see. Crocodile’s stinky scotch in its pretty crystal bottle. You poured a heaping glass, vaguely hearing a reaction from the couch before you chugged the burning liquor.

“What the fuck, baby?”

“Y/N, stop!”

“Don’t— rabbit!”

The three of them surrounded you, snagging the bottle and empty glass from your hands too late while you coughed from that toxic, liquid fire. Crocodile got to you first, kneeling out from the sand at your feet to grab your flushed face, wiping away the stinging tears that you knew wouldn’t be the last. 

“Sweetheart, why–”

“Sweetheart,” you choked out, the sound a mix between a laugh and a sob. “Gods, I’m sorry, I– fuck.” 

The looks on their faces made you want to scream. You rubbed your eyes with the meat of your palms, trying to be less fucking pathetic. 

“Drink, love,” Mihawk soothed, holding a glass of water to your lips. 

“We’re right here, star,” Buggy whispered as he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s okay,” Crocodile promised, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re our Numbers Girl, no matter what. Alright?”

Your body slumped, nodding as you let them guide you back under that microscope. Shanks was staring at you, but nothing meant anything anymore, so you didn’t bother to study his face. 

They let you sit there. Time was empty. It could have been minutes or years before you finally mustered up the energy to ruin everything.

“I’m fucking stupid,” you announced with a sharp laugh, feeling insane. 

Maybe I am. Maybe he did put me away. 

“Don’t talk like tha–”

“What do you mean, sweet girl?”

“You.” 

Growling at your scarred lover, confessions, and a suicidal accusation flowed through your body, spilling out through your eyes and lips. 

“You were going to kill us if I wasn’t useful. I could have been free, but I… I called those people for you.”

Crocodile’s face was as cold and unmoving as stone, a cliff you could leap off of. 

If only you could have stopped. No one said a word, but the energy was already rolling through you, destroying everything, your throat still raw from that fucking scotch. 

“I was an idiot. I was fucking kidding myself thinking I could wait, thinking I could have a few more days.” Your manic laughter turned to pain, a sob hitting your last words. 

Glancing up at the couch, you saw your three men clenching their jaws. Crocodile’s arm was wrapped around Buggy, that large hand digging into Mihawk’s shoulder, while Mihawk had grabbed Buggy’s floating hand, gripping it in his own lap before it could fly to you. 

“There’s no way I could hide it. Someone at the party will say it…”

“Say what,” Buggy rasped after a long moment. 

Your eyes poured over your men one more time before it was over. 

“My name.”

Everyone paused, and you remembered Shanks was there. His face was a mask, unreadable, and you were grateful for another reason to ignore it. 

“Are you saying that your name is a lie,” Crocodile asked in a dangerous purr. 

“No. None of you ever asked what my last name was,” you pointed out, then laughed as you looked between them. “I guess pirates don’t really care about last names.”

The laughter died in your throat, tears streaming now in your moment of defeat. 

“What’s your name,” Mihawk asked, his voice more gentle than you’d ever heard. 

It’s over. 

“Y/N Sylvad.”

…

…

…

“Like the wood company?”

You clamped your hands over your mouth, the shock of laughter that burst through you at Buggy’s confused face, his cute question, almost had you believing it would be alright. 

But the other men in the room shifted. Crocodile pulled his arm away from the other two to rest his elbows on his knees, leaning toward you while he answered his clown.

“Not a company. A fucking empire. Sylvad’s Lumber and Shipping. Is that what you’re telling us right now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, already watching their eyes change. Already watching them forget who you were. 

“Keep going,” he ordered, his words cold, ice building up around you. 

“It’s not mine,” you begged them to believe you. “Dad died and…”

You couldn’t. You didn’t know where to start, or if it even mattered now. 

“Arbo Sylvad was your dad,” Shanks murmured, sitting up a little straighter while he studied you. 

“You’re Sylvad’s heiress.”

“No, I'm not,” you snapped at Mihawk, not caring when his golden eyes flared at you. “Uncle Cedrick got everything. Dad always said it would go to… I was fifteen when he…”

Crocodile’s silver eyes were like molten metal, and you choked on your grief as you watched him stand. He walked to that giant desk of his, and when he returned to drop your thick notebook in your lap, you flinched, bracing for pain. 

“Unreliable,” he growled, tapping the notebook with his hook as he brought his eyes down to yours, his frightening face so close. 

“Everything I said was true,” you pleaded, mind blanking out with fear while Mihawk came to touch Crocodile’s shoulder. He didn’t budge, and though your mouth went dry, you forced yourself to explain. “Those people are unreliable! They'd talk to people that could cause problems for the Guild. People with connections to the Marines.”

“Like your Uncle?”

“What do you mean, boss,” Buggy tried to redirect, his hand on the hook that was digging into the back of the chair, his body leaning against the larger man’s shoulder. “They just sell trees and stuff, right?”

“Every single Marine ship on the fucking water right now was built with Sylvad wood,” Crocodile fumed, Mihawk’s hand stroking along his arm as you shrank beneath those silver eyes. “Hells, almost every ship that sails out of Water 7 is built with that lumber.”

“I don’t get it,” Shanks complained from his chair, though you couldn’t see him past the angry man in front of you. “If you’re the heiress of Sylvad’s, why were you working? You were an accountant or something, right?”

“Investment banker,” Buggy bragged, and you almost smiled that he remembered. “My girl’s a fancy financial advisor.”

“Let’s give our girl some breathing room, Crocodile. We don’t know everything yet.”

You only heard Mihawk’s whispered words because Crocodile was a hair's breadth away. He brought his thumb to rub along one of your cheeks, and the back of his hook to smooth along the other. 

“Tell daddy everything, alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes fluttered shut until he pressed into your cheeks, slow tears falling from your eyes when you nodded for him. 

“Yes, daddy.”

The warm kiss he pressed to your temple made you want to disappear. Nothing. Nothing ever again. 

You were barely there as the words fell from your lips. Eyes unfocused, hanging loosely around the little table by Mihawk’s seat. You smiled to yourself when you realized it looked strange without a glass of wine on it. 

“Dad died on a business trip. Freak storm. Left everything to Uncle Cedrick. Kat and I got our trust funds for school. Mom got nothing.”

“I think we’ll need more than that, little rabbit,” Mihawk cautioned as he glanced over at Crocodile's stern face. 

“Can I have a drink fir–”

“No,” said the three men on the couch. 

Holding your head in your hands for a bit, you tried to figure out how to say the least amount of painful words to get them to leave you alone. 

“Uncle took us in. He was such a caring person, taking in his brother’s poor daughters, his lonely wife,” you spat, venom dripping from your lips. “I didn’t want to belong to him. My trust fund paid for the best education out there, but all my friends stopped… When they knew I had nothing to give them, they treated me like shit. I kept doing what I'm good at, and I got the fuck out. Went to go live that stupid, boring life.” 

Growling with the frustration of spilling this pathetic, entitled trash, you stood to pace behind your chair, waving your notebook around as if you could make it burst into flames with your will alone. 

“I am fucking amazing at my job, but most of these people just looove the thought of the poor little heiress helping them get richer. Most of them can’t wait to put me in their little collection. Add me to their fucking shelf. Just gotta ask Uncle how much his little niece– FUCK!”

The notebook went flying, skidding across the floor while you shoved the heavy chair over, yelling, raging, kicking that stupid green chair until your shoes fell off, your toes fucking hurt, until your clown stopped you.

“Baby, please,” he soothed, his upper body floating to keep your struggling form from reaching anything on the ground to hit. “It’s okay, star, I’m right here. Fuck those assholes, right? Who needs ‘em!”

Part of you felt guilty for not laughing at his sweet attempt, but the rest of you needed to fight or flee. 

Flee from these powerful men that were already using you to make money. 

“Put me down!”

Buggy’s whispered, “star,” hurt like hell. You held yourself still when he set you down gently, back in your spot as you faced the couch again, although your chair was kicked off to the side. 

“Wanna know how high to set the ransom,” you challenged, your clenched fists shaking at your sides. You couldn’t think clearly enough to read their darkened eyes, even Buggy’s as he took his place between them. “Just so you know, Uncle doesn’t like me that much. He’d probably be happier if you killed me. Or you could buy me, that’d make him extra hap–”

Sand. 

Sand flooded the space around you. It lifted you off the ground, and your breath caught as the coffee table got thrown to the side. You met those silver eyes just before you were in his arms, your legs stretched across the laps of the other men on the couch. 

“What…” you wondered, mind in a daze.

“You thought I’d sell my sweet girl,” Crocodile hummed, kissing the top off your head.

“You told me you would,” you reminded, your body and mind feeling distant, separate from whatever this strange world had become. “How much am I worth? Just keep being valuable, useful? You were already gonna sell me or kill me before you knew what a goldmine I was.”

The icy anger that laced your words made every hand on you go still. Crocodile froze as he started to rock you, and your body couldn’t choose between guilt at hurting them, or anger and fear at what they would do. 

“I think I’m drunk,” you whispered, wanting them to let you go, and wishing that they never would.

“No shit,” Buggy laughed, “I’m surprised you’re alive after that.”

His hands started massaging your legs on his lap, rubbing up and down nervously while you closed your eyes.

“Can I go lie down?”

“I’ll take you, star.”

Crocodile and Mihawk’s hands dragged along your skin as Buggy lifted you into the air, but neither stopped him from taking you. Neither stopped him from floating you away.

Neither called you pretty names as you left the room. 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“I’ve got you,” Buggy promised. 

Getting her onto that giant bed felt like a race. Something was right behind him. Something would stop him.

Something would take her away again. 

Finally there, he wrapped his arms around her, leaning against the headboard while her scotch scented breath warmed his chest. 

“Your breath stinks, baby.”

Maybe it was a laugh, but that choked sound made his chest tight, like a huge hand was crushing his ribcage. 

I can’t do anything. Fucking useless. Can’t help her.

“Buggy…”

“Shh, I’m right here, star,” he promised. The sound of his name on those quivering lips sent fire, rage, and guilt straight through him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could never leave her. He could never leave her with them after this. Even if they…

Buggy kissed her temple, trying to be soothing while he waited for them to crash through the door.

Waited for them to take her from him.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Not a sound.

Not a sound filled the air as the men in the lounge sat with the news that their little lover was the heiress of Sylvad’s.

Not a sound from the two men on the couch as her accusations weighed on them, as though she hadn’t left their laps with those angry, frightened tears in her eyes. 

“That sure is something,” Shanks whistled softly. He stood to pick up Y/N’s chair, sitting across from them. “What are you gonna do with—“

“Find somewhere else to be,” Crocodile fumed, his body vibrating with the need to hurt something.

Shanks nodded, giving a crooked smile, before leaving them alone. Mihawk stared after his old friend, images of comfort he couldn’t provide burning behind his eyes.

He’s going to take them both. 

Serves us right.

Crocodile’s angry huff pulled Mihawk out of those thoughts, watching the man stomp toward the bar. The coffee table his sand had moved laid in his path, until it splintered and scattered from the touch of his vicious foot in that lovely shoe. 

The swordsman floated after him, still in a daze while the larger man imitated their girl, chugging a glass of scotch. 

Mihawk stared, but didn’t speak, didn’t touch.

Crocodile set the glass down before he shattered another one. 

“She lied—“

“Can you blame her,” Mihawk laughed coldly while the other man paced. Silver eyes shot like daggers, but Mihawk couldn’t seem to care about anything at the moment. “She told the truth, just not all—“

“She didn’t trust me.”

He sat again, staring at the floor after those stupid words had left him.

“I don’t…” Mihawk started, pushing himself to move, pushing himself to try. He sat down, and touched a hand to Crocodile’s shoulder, leaving it there after his scarred lover flinched. “We haven’t given her much reason to, have we?”

Not a sound after that. 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Y/N! You can’t just leave,” Kat reasoned, pulling the clothes out of your hands before you could stuff them into your suitcase. “What about mom? What about the company?”

“Mom made her choices,” you growled, pulling the clothes back from your sister’s shaky hands. “And I don’t care about the fucking company. It’s not mine.”

“Not if—“ 

“It’s not mine. I’m sick of this fucking life. I’m getting out.”

“... What about me?”

That stopped you. But only for a moment. 

“I’m sure he’d let you come if—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” she shouted, pushing you toward your messy suitcases. “He’s a pirate! If he doesn’t hurt you before, what do you think he’ll do when he finds out who you are?”

“I don’t care,” you fumed as you stared your little sister down. “I'm bored of this stupid life.”

Kat’s mouth hung open, the hurt and pain in her eyes making you want to take it all back, to beg for forgiveness.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t waste this chance to be free. 

“You really have a death wish, you know that? That clown is going to get you killed,” Kat breathed, her voice growing colder as she turned to leave. She didn’t look back when she said her goodbye, just waved her hand over her shoulder. “I’ll look out for the ransom note.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Sleep?

Sleep.

Burning sleep, and stormy seas.

Dad’s voice calling for you. 

You could never find him before the ship went under, before all that Sylvad wood splintered beneath the raging waves.

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buzz off, idiot,” Buggy ordered in a harsh whisper, Shanks’ smiling face peeking through the cracked door. Buggy had left his body on the bed to hold Y/N as she whimpered, nightmares ruining her scotch and stress induced nap. 

His head floated by the door, frowning at his old friend. 

“It’ll just be a second, Bugs, I swear.”

Shanks’ smile stretched even wider when Buggy agreed, floating his head out into the corridor.

“This better be good, asshat.”

Shanks felt it. This was it. He could have them both. 

He needed them both. 

“Let’s take her with us, Bugs.” 

Buggy’s look of shock was exaggerated by those red lips of his, and Shanks had to hold himself back from kissing them.

“But she… but it’s dangerous…”

Buggy wasn’t sure he’d actually heard those words, or if he’d fallen asleep, dreaming beside his star. Too many emotions rushed through him, but all he could think about was her. 

“Would you rather leave her here with them,” Shanks rasped, his eyes doing that heavy thing they do, although there wasn’t much of Buggy’s body to drag them down. “We can protect her. You and me, Bugs.”

The clown had to fight his body to stay still as he held her in the other room. The need to move, to fidget, to pace, made him dizzy. 

“What if she doesn’t wanna go,” Buggy wondered. Images of Y/N smiling, laughing, screaming, flew through his mind, each one making him doubt that he could ever make her as happy as she’d seemed once things had started to settle here. 

“I already asked her. I know she’ll say yes. She wants you to be happy, Bugs. Just like I do,” Shanks confessed, brushing a bit of blue hair out of Buggy’s face. He rubbed his thumb across those red, parted lips. 

So close to everything. 

“When did—“

“Buggy?”

Shanks watched his clown fly away from him, hopeful that it’d be the last time. 

Buggy flew away from his old friend, every confusing thought going blank besides the need to comfort that soft, scared voice. 

“Right here, got you, baby.”

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buggy,” you whimpered as new tears fell. 

“Shh, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Painted lips covered your face, kissing your tears away until you shivered, his soothing hum blocking out everything else. 

His touch kept it all at bay. 

Every split second of memory was grief, so you curled against him, running your hand along his side. Your body writhed, whining for him as he stroked your hair and back, then pulled away.

“Hey, star, it’s o—“

“Please, touch me, Buggy,” you begged as you reached for him. “I need you so much, I need you…” 

Pathetic grief poured back in at the memory of what you’d witnessed last night, but you couldn’t fight your need for him. 

“Please, touch me.”

“Just tell me if it’s alright, okay, star," he breathed after pausing to study your face, tracing his fingers along your cheeks.

“Please,” you gasped, his lips on your neck were saving your life. Saving you from your mind. 

A touch against Mihawk’s tender bite mark brought the world back, but then Buggy was tearing you both out of your clothes, kissing down your arms, your chest, your stomach. Kissing every inch of your skin until you were crying with need instead of pain. 

Begging, begging for more. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, star.”

“Bug—“

Breathy, desperate moans left your throat as his fingers plunged deep inside you, and he swallowed the rest of your sounds in a wild kiss. His tongue was eating, tasting, and you almost laughed into his mouth at the memory of scotch, until his free hand found your clit. 

The fingers inside you were perfect, knowing exactly what you needed. Finding that spot, giving you steady touches that built in pressure and speed until you were clenching around his fingers, body shaking with pleasure and gratitude. 

“So beautiful,” Buggy praised, his voice full of a quiet awe as he smiled down at you. “You okay, baby?”

“Fuck me, Buggy,” you pleaded as your weak arms failed to pull him closer. “I need you inside me. Need to feel you.”

His eyes were wide, concerned, but he smiled when he kissed you. 

Smiled when he gave you everything you needed. 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

How?

How can she be real?

How can she want me this much?

Want me after everything…

Buggy pushed those thoughts aside as he smoothed his ungloved hands down her body. 

Hands that he felt safe letting her touch. Just like his bare face that he could let her see. 

He let out his own soft, needy noise as he watched her writhe and squirm, begging for him to touch her.

“Fuck,” he hissed, just the touch of her perfect, dripping pussy against his sensitive tip was too much. Too much as he lined himself up.

“Look at me, Buggy,” Y/N cried out, her watery eyes swallowing him whole, just as he sank his cock deeper and deeper. He couldn’t hold in his moans at the pure fucking bliss that she held inside her, that she let him feel. 

“Look at me, please.”

Buggy kept his eyes on hers, her request setting off alarm bells in his mind that he had to shut down, throw out. 

She wants to look at me like this. She wants to see my face. There’s only one per—

“Buggy! I’m close, please,” she panicked, reaching up into his hair, pulling gently as her breathing went ragged. “Need to feel you, want you so bad.”

“I want you too, star, I’m right— oh gods, baby. Fuck, you feel soo good…”

Y/N screamed his name.

His name. 

Over and over while he shoved his cock as far as he could go, claiming that sweet, warm pleasure she let him take. 

Y/N pulled him in, her body made to take his come, made to milk him, to drain him, to let him fuck it back into her while she babbled, while her eyes crossed, while that cute little tongue hung out of her perfect lips.

All for him. 

Still sunk deep inside her, Buggy soothed and calmed her frantic noises, kissing her temple.

“I love you so much. My shining star.”

What a feeling to say those words. What a feeling to mean them. To have someone to say them to. 

“I love you, Buggy. I love you so much.”

What a feeling.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I've been so nervous to add anything new to this world. I hope you don't mind some back story. And some Buggy time 😭😭😭

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Part 20

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[jenscx]

ATTENTION 36 — a question (half-written)

you giggle at the comment, it had been at least an hour since minji tweeted out your photo but the tweet had already received over five hundred thousand likes. the adoration your fans had for ‘ynji’ was severely underestimated.

“unnie,” you turn around, smiling widely as minji gestured for you to come closer to her. the younger girl was just so cute.

“yes, jinnie?” you shift closer to her on balcony. true to her words, minji had brought you out on an amazing date; flowers in hand when you first met, renting out a whole restaurant to avoid curious gazes and finally…

“do you like it?” minji had asked, eyes glistening with hope as she brought you to a penthouse in a five star hotel near your dorm.

even if there was a stunning view of city lights that you could admire, you wouldn’t mind just staring at minji.

“i love it,” you answer truthfully, “thank you for doing all of this.” the view was breathtaking, minji, the literal girl of your dreams standing against a backdrop of the city’s stunning silhouette. the balcony was beautifully decorated, and so was the bed, you had noted. you truly wonder if minji had specially requested a heart formation of rose petals to be laid out on the king-sized bed…

you wouldn’t put it past the adorably cheesy girl. minji continued to admire the view, and you, continued to admire minji.

“minji,” you open your arms, waiting for an embrace, “come ‘ere.”

the younger girl’s eyes light up even more, you swear you were able to see the whole universe in her eyes. minji ran into your arms in a flurry, sighing contentedly when wrapping her arms around your waist.

“it’s nice being here with just you,” minji says, “i don’t need to fend hyein off from you or be teased by my members.”

you nod in agreement. even though hyein was adorable, you could understand minji’s need for time alone without her members. you felt that way too; even if you loved them to death.

“do you wanna go wash up?” you ask after a few seconds of hugging. minji shakes her head. rolling your eyes, you retract your arms and playfully blow air into minji’s ears before running off to the bathroom.

maybe dives were right when they called you childish. not that you could be anymore childish than yujin.

“unnie!” minji cries out, chasing after you.

giggles erupt as minji tries to run after you around the hotel room, with you ultimately ending up out of breath and conceding when minji threatens to tickle you. as you recollect your breath, you realise that minji is standing awfully close.

before you make any rash decisions, you stumble to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and trying to calm your throbbing heart and red face with the cold shower water. after spending around half an hour just trying to forget how delicious minji looked, you walk out in one of the hotel’s robes. the younger girl perks up when you exit the bathroom.

“go shower, you stinky,” you tease as you flop onto the bed, sighing in delight. it was so comfortable; freshly showered, skincare done, everything taken care of… minji’s face scrunches up in fake annoyance as she walks to the bathroom.

you close your eyes for a short while, finally resting. minji doesn’t take long to shower, it only felt like seconds when she sits on the space next to you. using your palms, you lift yourself up, gazing at minji.

her hair tousled and wet, mouth parting and a water droplet dripping down from her neck to her collarbone…

it makes your mind run wide with imagination. you quickly turn your head away, if you didn’t, you might do something you’d regret. minji, however, doesn’t shy away and instead pulls you even closer to her, if that was possible.

“unnie,” she breathes, “can i ask you a question?”

“of course, jinnie.”

her eyelashes batter, lips pouting and cheeks flushed red. it was such a difficult choice— either staring at her hooded eyes or her mouth parting. you decide to focus on the latter. it’s strange that you have to look up at her slightly, with you being older, it was the first time you felt like you were weak.

“can i be your girlfriend?”

yes. a hundred times yes. you wanted to answer.

to be frank, you weren’t too shocked by her sudden confession. kim minji wore her heart on her sleeve, you always managed to know what she was feeling. and with the way your relationship was progressing now, it wasn’t crazy for her to ask.

“kim minji,” you gently trail your hand from her arm to behind her neck, pulling her ever so slightly close, leaving no room for her to look anywhere else but your face, “you can only be mine if i’m yours.”

the earth is big, and the universe is bigger. but nothing can compete with the adoration that you have for minji.

masterlist | next

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[shade-e-e-es]

Hours later, Doc is still fuming as he thinks of all the ways he should give it to that stinky mutt. To cool off he decides to go on a walk.

He quickly finds out it does not help. As is his nature as a creeper, he walks silently, ears perked for any sign of sound.

He picks up his pace as he hears the dull thud of someone chopping a tree. It’s either Etho or Beef making a project in the middle of the night.

Or it’s an intruder.

He’s hoping it’s an intruder because then he can attack something, as messed up as that sounds.

And oh the joy he feels (and fury) when he sees the red shirt and brown tail of Ren Dog.

The bushes rustle as Doc moves to step out. He only pauses for a second as Rens ears perk and he starts to growl, his swing stopping as he adjusts his hold on the axe. A battle stance.

Fine. A fight.

… maybe he should try and. Talk a little before he blows this guy up.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, MAN?” Doc hisses.

He expects Ren to rush him. To growl and attack even if it’s just with words. It’s how he acts during the day, after all.

He did not expect the smile, the tail wagging, and the excitement.

“Doc! My dude!! Jeez man you scared me!! I thought you were a freakin skeleton or something!! Sorry, didn’t mean to growl at you like that!!”

Doc stares blankly. What. Why is he.. so excited. And before he can even open his mouth to hiss out something about taxes or his tree, Ren continues.

“I’m really genuinely sorry about the tree. I’d have come and asked if I knew you were awake. I can never tell what your guys’s sleep schedules are! Besides Bdubs. Always know when he’s passed out!!”

“Seriously like that dude will pass out the moment the sun goes over the hills even if we’re trying to talk to him! It’s a bit funny though so it’s fine on our end. Guys gotta sleep! Oh- right. I can pay you back and stuff for the tree. I tried to pick a smaller one far away from your projects so I don’t mess any landscapes up. I’m also going to replant the sapling and all that!!” Ren shifts from foot to foot, a smile on his face, a wag in his tail. His eyes almost sparkle as he stares at Doc.

And it.

This doesn’t make sense to Doc. Why does.. Ren doesn’t act like this! He’s! Quiet. He’s grumpy. He acts like he hates every single member of the nHo and yet here he is raving about Bdubs in a joking way to Doc of all people.

“What.” Doc says.

“Oh. Uh.” Ren chuckles a little. “Sorry. I am. Nervous, NOT ABOUT YOU!! I just don’t want to be away from Iskall for too long. See I’m here to get wood to make a fire over in our camp. Iskall has a fever and we both agreed that staying at the resistance base would be better than going to our houses. Too much movement. But I.. suck at taking care of sick people. So I’m doing what I know best! Chopping trees, making fire, cooking soup!! (If you happen to have any notes on making soup please let me know. I lied about knowing best on it.)” Ren leans in, whispering the last bit.

He’s so animated. He can’t stand still. Doc is.. flabbergasted!!

It doesn’t compute. It just.

“Why are you. Being. Nice???”

“Wha?”

PT 1 | PT 3

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (13)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean, angry reader, Mary being a bitch

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (12)

“Did you pack everything, Michael?” You lovingly run your hand over your son’s head. Moving back to the States won’t be easy. It will be a hard piece of work to leave your old life yet again.

Nothing is ever easy with Dean Winchester in your life. He’s like a tornado coming into your life to turn everything upside down.

“Can we stay with Dad and Uncle Sammy? Dean told me so much about his home and Baby! Mommy, he’s got an Impala called Baby and…” He trails off, suddenly falling silent. “Sorry, mommy. You already know that.”

“It’s alright, baby boy.” You softly kiss the top of his head. “Have a look around your room. We don’t want to miss something. We will stay for at least a week or two, okay.”

“Hmmm…okay.” He nods before running off to his room to check if he forgot something.

“Uh-do you really want to meet up with Bobby for a job?” Sam pokes his head inside the living room. “Maybe you can fix things with Ketch, or at least find a new, and better position here, the UK.”

“One could believe that you don’t want Y/N to come with us,” Dean grunts while his brother tries to make sure you’re not making a hasty decision. “She wants to meet up with Bobby. You like Bobby. He’s a good man and an even better employer. If she wants to work for him, it’s none of your business.”

“Guys, can you not fight? I had a lot to prepare before our flight. You are still butting heads like kids,” you snort when Dean gives his brother the stinky eyes. He purses his lips and wildly gestures at your tits. “Dean, my eyes a little higher.”

“I didn’t point at your boobs,” he says but glances at your cleavage. Dean hums, and subconsciously licks his lips. “Even though, they are nice to look at.”

“Dude,” Sam huffs. “Seriously?”

“What?” Dean shrugs. “It’s the truth. Now, back to packing things. Do you need more, sweetheart? I can get some boxes and pack everything up.” He grins, giving you puppy dog eyes.

Sam tries to stop his brother from saying something making you change your mind. “Dean…” He sighs. “Slow down.”

“No, Sammy. I gotta bring her away from that douche. He’s got grabby hands. I won’t let him touch her.” Dean harrumphs. He hates Arthur Ketch with passion.

“That is enough, Dean!” You grab his ear, tugging hard. Dean winces and tries to grab your wrist, but you only tug harder. “I decided to go back to the State to work for Bobby. Not yours, or anyone else’s. There’s a lot to consider and organize before I can even think of moving back to the States.”

“Can you stop fidgeting?” You watch Dean nervously shift in his seat. “Dean, the seat is more than comfortable. This is the first class.”

“How’d you pay for it?” Sam watches you get a credit card out of your purse. You smirk and toss it at him. “Is that a company card?”

“Arthur decided that he doesn’t want to let me go. He insists that I retract my two weeks’ notice. Arthur is not very mature when it comes to rejection, it seems. He told me he’ll do anything to keep me at his company.”

“So, you use the company card to pay for your flight?” Dean snickers. “I love how you think. Even better, you can be so devious.”

“I don’t think that’s legal, Y/N,” Sam, ever the lawyer throws in. “What if he takes legal action?”

“He can eat shit,” you snap at Sam. “I won’t play by his rules any longer. I’m officially on my way to discuss another deal with Bobby Singer. If I invite a few friends to join me on my flight, it’s justified.”

Dean grins proudly. He’d done the same if he was in your shoes. “No swear words in front of the kid,” he says, but chuckles. “We cannot use fecal language when Michael is around.”

You huff and lean back in your seat, closing your eyes to get some sleep. Michael is already asleep, and Sam is close to drifting off himself. Only Dean is antsy and cannot calm down. Not only because of his problem with airplanes but the fact that you are so close too.

“DADDY! We’ve missed you.” You smile when Sam’s kids run toward their father. He immediately wraps his arms around the screaming bunch to hug them. His wife, Jess, shakes your hand while you ask her if Michael can stay here for today. You don’t want to leave him in the hotel room you booked or drag him around.

Holding his kids in his arms Sam sighs. “I’ve missed you too,” he says and hugs them a little tighter. The last days made him see how lucky he truly is. He had the chance to watch his kids growing up and has the love of his life by his side.

“So, Sammy,” Dean clears his throat. “Can Michael stay here and meet his cousins? Y/N wants to talk to Bobby and mother.” He spats the last word.

Jess holds out her hand for your son. “Of course, he can stay here as long as he wants to,” she says when he takes her hand. “How about we go inside, and you can introduce yourself to your cousins, Michael?”

Sam and Jess walk inside their home with your son and their children. You watch them go with a sad expression. You and Dean could’ve had what they have. He’s a little chaotic, and sometimes a mess, but Dean has a good heart.

If only Mary didn’t manipulate your relationship back then…

“How did it go?” Dean asks when you walk out of the building of Bobby’s company. “Did you get the job? Bobby didn’t leave you hanging, right?”

“I got the job, and he will help me find a place to stay,” you tell Dean if only to stop him from asking more questions.

“I know you don’t like me much, but I can help you too. Sammy is good at house hunting, and I’m good at renovating things. You know that. We can help.”

“Dean—” sighing deeply you look at Dean. He offered to drive you around, bringing Baby on purpose. Dean wanted to bring old memories back up. “Can we just drive?”

He raises his hands in surrender and nods. “Where to now?”

“Your mother’s place,” you say, venom in your voice. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never find the courage to face the villain of your story. “I have a lot to discuss with her. And Dean…”

“Yeah?” He furrows his brows. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a ring, with a big diamond. And for you to not say a word. Leave this to me…”

Dean comes back twenty minutes later. He opens his hand to reveal the engagement ring you left behind years ago. You swallow thickly but take the ring to put it on your finger.

“What are you up to?” He asks while following you toward his mother’s house. Dean wonders if he should stop you from confronting his mother. Mary is not going to admit her mistakes or ask for forgiveness.

You smile sweetly, but there is a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. “Revenge,” you say, and grab his hand. You interlace your fingers with his and put your sweetest fake smile on.

“Knock, baby,” you coo, before Dean can chicken out. He starts to sweat but raises his fist to knock. “I will so enjoy this.”

The door opens moments later. Mary looks at her son, smiling because she believes he came back to apologize. But then, her eyes land on you. Your fingers interlaced with Dean’s.

“What are you doing here?” She spats your way. “I didn’t invite you.”

“I wanted to thank you for bringing Dean back into my life,” you let go of Dean’s hand to show off the diamond ring on your finger. “Who would’ve thought that burning the message I left to tell Dean about his unborn son would bring us back together, huh?”

You smirk, seeing the struggle on her face. “I have a grandson?” She hiccups. “No, this is impossible.”

“No,” your eyes grow cold, and you deepen your smirk. “You don’t have a grandson, and you don’t have a son any longer.” Her face falls when you step closer to look her up and down. “Pathetic. Only because your marriage was loveless you wanted to ruin what Dean and I had. What a pity we found each other again.”

“No—you won’t take him back. Not after he left you years ago.” Mary shakes her head, but you simply chuckle.

“We will rise from the ashes, stronger than before. Dean will be a good father for our son and a good husband,” you chuckle darkly. “And you can choke on the hatred and bitterness you consist of. You will never see your grandson because he doesn’t need a coldhearted bitch like you in his life.”

Mary can only watch you grab Dean’s hand to lead him back toward Baby. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you're about to cry because all the hurting hits you again. You won’t, though.

This time you walk away from Mary Winchester, your head held high…

Part 14

Tags in reblog.

[animefreak1145]

Late WIP Wednesday(Oops)

Sorry I’m taking so long with well…everything. But this is to show you guys for the Church Bells(Frank Woods x Bell!Reader x Russell Adler fic). I AM working on it. I’m just a little slow 🥲 Here ya go! It’s another flashback sequence before Bell found out the truth.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“What? At my work? Isn’t that like everyone else?”

Lazar hummed, his eyes glittering at a joke you can’t understand.

“No. You have that type of stare that will freeze lesser men. Or get slapped by someone who thinks you’re looking for a fight. Or get you put into an asylum. Only, when you decode, you have an insane smile on your face. It’d be creepy if we didn’t know you.”

“Uh huh.” You dismissed, eyes glancing at the medical office. “You should work better on your compliments if you want Park to have a drink with you.”

If Park wasn’t in the medical office room along with Adler, you’re sure Lazar would throw his old cup noodle at you. Alas, he only gave you a dry “Ha. Ha.” with a neutral expression but still didn’t leave. He wants an answer.

You turn to him fully, elbows leaning back against the desk, petulant.

“I doubt I smile like how you describe…” Lazar snorted while you frowned at him, before shifting your gaze back to your papers. “I don’t know. I just…love puzzles. They’re fun to solve.”

“Is that what makes you stare so intently?” Lazar leaned against the television, the stand slightly creaking at the movement, his intrigue seeming sincere. Another question hidden, two subjects being asked for one answer. A wall. “The thrill?”

Is that what love is to you?

You tapped at the papers, biting your lip in thought.

“Maybe a part…I just have this need to figure things out. To open it up—to find the numbers, the letters, the riddles. In an order that is random but it’s not. It’s just a trick. A shadow on the wall. A reason for each piece. Each hint. Every piece of the puzzle has its purpose. It’s reason for being.” You didn’t notice when you started smiling, the topic consuming you like books and pictures do. But you just kept going as you grabbed your pen and fiddled with it, miming writing numbers or letters. “Like Sims with mechanics, I think. Or you with bomb wiring. You find the hardy wires or broken pieces—and I untangle it all. I even love how difficult it could be if I find a cipher intellectual. It’s fun.”

“Sounds maddening,” Lazar replied simply, brow raising. “And painful. Maybe even obsessive.”

You shrug, staring deeply at your own pen, tone far away. As if you were speaking about another topic than this. Something other. Like a secret.

“That’s love, isn’t it? Pain and obsession?”

.

.

.

Just a taste. Any more and I would give you guys the whole thing 😂

Tag List: @tr1ppylady @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @gojocat247 @mayaibnlaahad @dallmaistir @salvija @kylezkie4adler @asaltryefl @stupid-stinky @aurora-windu @zachfoxx121 @pyxis-stellae @makeyourpeacenow

[ransprang]

Hello! Can I ask for an Edward Elric x FMAB uniform kink? Thanks so much!

Kinktober 2023

Edward Elric - Uniform Kink

“Why did we decide to help the Colonel with cleaning up his storage again?’ Ed complained loudly, as he lifted a box of old memorabilia from the dusty attic floor.

“It’s the least we could do for our ex-fuhrer.” you admonished. “You don’t want him to throw his back out, fumbling with the boxes here, do you?”

Ed grumbled some more, but continued to clear away the space. 

You knelt to pick up the box labelled ‘To throw’. The lid was slightly open and you peered in to find the old Amestris uniform. You pulled out the shirt and exclaimed, “Mein Gott, was ist das?” 

Ed looked over at you and grimaced, “That’s just the old man’s stinky uniform. Throw it out,” he replied before going back to packing.

Devious thoughts went through your brain, and you secretly shoved it into your bag when he wasn’t looking.

Later that evening, when the two of you had returned home, Ed was lounging on the sofa and you were feeling bored. You got up to get ready for bed. 

As you stood in front of the bedroom mirror, you couldn't help but glance at the uniform you had swiped from the attic. It hung there innocently, the military insignia catching the dim light of the room. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your lips as she contemplated her next move.

With a mixture of curiosity and excitement, you decided to try the uniform on just for fun. After all, how often did one get the chance to dress up like a high-ranking military officer? You carefully slipped out of her own clothes and into the uniform, buttoning it up and adjusting it as best as you could. It was a bit baggy on you, but it felt surprisingly comfortable.

You admired herself in the mirror, striking a few poses and imagining what it must have been like to be part of the military. You couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence and power as you looked at your reflection.

Just as you were about to take off the uniform and put on your pajamas, the bedroom door swung open, and in walked Ed, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock as he took in the sight of you in the uniform.

For a split second, something strange happened in Ed's mind. He thought he saw Roy Mustang, his old military officer, standing before him. His sleep-addled brain couldn't process it properly, and he blinked in disbelief. Then, reality crashed back in, and he realized that it was you dressed in the uniform.

Ed's expression quickly shifted from surprise to a mixture of confusion and mild disgust. "What the hell are you doing, Y/n?" he asked, his voice tinged with annoyance.

You, not one to back down, decided to take advantage of the situation. You approached Ed with a playful grin and a seductive tone in her voice. "Well, Ed," you purred, "I thought it might be fun to play dress-up tonight. Don't you find a woman in uniform... appealing?"

Ed's cheeks flushed bright red, and he stammered, "Y/n, this is ridiculous. Take that off right now!"

But you were undeterred. You stepped closer, running a finger along the collar of the uniform. "Come on, Ed," you whispered, "I've always had this fantasy of being with a man in uniform. Please, just this once?"

Ed's resistance wavered as he looked into your pleading eyes. He grumbled under his breath, "You're crazy, you know that?" But against his better judgment, he found himself reluctantly agreeing. "Fine, but just for a moment, okay?"

You practically squealed with delight as she helped Ed into the baggy uniform. It was a comical sight, given that Ed was significantly shorter than the original owner of the uniform. You both burst into laughter as they struggled to get it to fit him properly.

You grinned, feeling victorious. "I knew you'd come around, Colonel Ed." You playfully saluted him.

Stepping closer to you he holds your chin with one hand, "I still think you have been a naughty girl though Liebe. His eyes drop to your lips as he closes his eyes and leans in. You close the gap and your lips meet. His hand goes to your waist pulling you in closer. Your hands lie on his uniform garbed chest feeling the old cotton fabric and the muscles underneath them.

As your tongues fight for dominance one of his clothed hands venture down to your panties. Pulling them to the side he swipes your pussy with a finger, "Wow already wet? Didn't know you liked men in uniforms that badly love." He pushes you onto the bed, "My obedient girl is going to let me do whatever I want to her right." He says more so as a statement than as a question. You've never seen this dominant side of Ed. Your lips stay shut with only moans escaping and your legs pressing together to feel some relief from the aching.

"Tsk tsk", Edward now on top of you pulls your legs apart, "I'm the one in charge. Don't do things unless I tell you to. Got it?" You nod meekly making Ed laugh a bit. Just a few moments ago you were so sensual and seductive, now the uniform has turned you into such a shy little thing for him to ravage.

While maintaining eye contact with you, he brings up one of his hands and takes off his glove in a mostly smooth fashion. He inserts a finger into your eager hole and pumps it in and out. The other hand works its way under your shirt to massage your breasts. Seeing how easily he fit a finger in, he added 2 more stretching you out a bit and making you moan. He goes faster and faster.

As your moans fill the room he starts groaning as well. "Good girl. Taking my fingers so well. I didn't know you were so easy baby. Bit of a slut for a man who can do anything to you hmmm". He felt your pussy pulse from his dirty words.

The hand on your breast soon moved to his belt, unbuckling it and he quickly let his cock come out. Fully erect, it stood there waiting to enter you. Ed sees you practically salivating for it, "Not just yet. I want you to cum on my fingers. Can you do that for me?"

"Y-yes Colonel" you squeak out. The knot builds as Ed fingers you and the other hand plays with your clit. And soon enough you cum feeling a wave of pleasure. You pant and groan coming down from your high.

"Now now soldier, we aren't done yet tonight."

Your colonel,

admins sar & san

[sky-kiss]

Hello my friend!! My stinky cheese!

Do you think Raphael would bond at all with a Tav who also hates their father (cough cough kinda like Durge cough cough)?

If so, could I request a prompt where Raph reacts to Tav (female) just getting really angry/upset about that familial void that he can so relate to.

I know this isn't gonna be easy, but I wish you luck wrangling the beast 🫡

A/N: I opted for mother vs. father. Since you vetoed me from using Durge, it’s a Tav. A Lolth-Sworn Drow. This….is not quite the prompt. I’m sorry, love.

______________

In nearly two thousand years of living, Raphael has welcomed all sorts of souls to his door. Spurned lovers, vengeful rulers, petulant children; he is all things to all people, as any devil worth their salt could attest. And for all those souls and all those years, he can say he has felt true camaraderie only a handful of times.

He counts the drow among them. 

Tav regards him with interest from the start. No fear, only a culturally conditioned lust. He is power and ambition made flesh; he is a steppingstone and tool, or so she imagines. Bless her little heart. She will use him and expects to be used in turn; it is a charmingly simplistic exchange. 

Tit for tat, love. Information for the Orthon. A hammer for a crown. He comes to her in the aftermath of the invasion, surprised to find her languishing in the Elfsong. She has talked of naught but her return to the Underdark. 

“You linger, little mouse. Have we grown fond of the surface-dwellers?”

She smiles, teeth too white in the elegant darkness of her face. A curtain of platinum hair falls over her shoulder. Tav is a stunning representation of the breed. She steps aside to grant him entry to her suite. “Don’t be foolish. My delay is purely practical.” Tav settles in one of the rich wingbacks, looking for all the world a queen. “I wanted to make certain you’d find me.” 

“Oh, always, sweetling. Wherever you go, rest assured I will find you.” He plucks her hand from the armrest, kissing the back of her knuckles. “That lovely little soul of yours bears my mark.”

“Lolth will not be pleased.” 

“The Spider Bitch was long since defanged. Her dissatisfaction means nothing to me. ” Tav’s expression softens. Her eyes remain the rest of those sworn to the mistress of the Demonweb pits, but her loyalties have shifted. “But your satisfaction, my little treat, means everything. Tell us what you need.” 

“I’ve been absent from Menzoberranzan too long. Before the,” she hesitates a moment, “incident. I had intended to wrest my House from the Matron Mother’s control.” 

“Matricide, is it? How delightful.” 

“You know how parents can be.” 

“Don’t I just.” Raphael chuckles. He seats himself beside her. The proximity of the chairs and his size leaves his knee fetching up against hers. Tav shifts, hooking her foot behind his ankle. Brave girl. “And you are lucky, pet. I have a soft spot for rebellious princes and princesses.” 

She rests her chin in the palm of her hand. Lovely and so willing to treat with him. He’s struck again by how odd it is to see yourself reflected in a mortal vessel. There are scars across the pretty things back, left by lash and more inventive forms of torture typical to the species. And he sees the same hate in her eyes. A burning desire for more, to take what she's owed. “Let us discuss terms, love of mine.” The endearment makes him laugh; there is no love, not even an echo of it, in her voice. Only hunger. “Passage to Menzoberranzan.” 

“Only passage? I might offer you power. And more.”

“And more?” She arches a brow, stroking his calf with her foot. “And the cost?” 

“Negotiable, pet. We might even defer it…a Matron Mother will not lack resources. Power today for payment tomorrow. A generous offer, no?” 

Tav chews at her lower lip. “And if I proposed an alliance? To swear myself to you for this power, to pledge my House to your service…what would you offer?” And it is odd, so odd, to feel a pang of lust after so many centuries. “I would see my mother consumed by her damned spiders. After that…” she shrugs. “I’ll admit to having a fondness for rebel princes, myself.” 

“How convenient.” 

And she enjoys his words from so many months prior. “Isn’t it just?” 

[sadistic-kiss]

🐺House of Alphas Chapter 49: Date Night With Daddy🐺

(Jujutsu Kaisen Omegaverse )

Summary: Waking up in a world that was not your own was problematic enough. Being the villainess was another. However, the possessive alphas might take the cake.

Disclaimer: Angsty but I ain’t Gege

Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sukuna x Alpha!Gojo x Alpha!Toji x Alpha!Nanami x Alpha!Getou

~

...

You walked in to find Toji on his bed putting on his shoes. He was wearing a tight black long-sleeve shirt with a few buttons open to reveal his chest. Nice jewelry hanging from his neck. His black pants matched with the black shoes he was busy lacing up. Fuck he looks so hot. You had to swallow the glob of spit that formed in your mouth lest you be drooling.

He looked up as you got into the room, his eyes fluttered in surprise, “Holy shit.”

Now you were starting to feel flustered from their responses. “Is that a good shit or a stinky shit- do I look okay?” let's be for real - deep down you knew you looked damn good you just wanted them to voice it.

Toji scoffed as if he couldn't fathom the audacity of you to question yourself. “You look better than okay. You look amazing baby girl…better than I could have imagined.” he reached for your hand and you grabbed it with a shy giggle. Bringing you close he prompts you to turn, “Give daddy a spin.”

You did a cute twirl as Toji touched upon you gently while offering appreciative sounds.

He rests his hands on your hips as you complete your circle. “Damn… we picked a beautiful princess… didn't we Sukuna?” His gaze shifts from your face to behind you.

Your skin grew hot, you looked back to see Sukuna leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked to be deep in thought staring at you. Toji’s question hung in the air without an answer but the alpha didn't seem to mind. He chuckled instead, “See? You left him speechless.”

“You… you look really handsome too.” You smiled at him dancing your fingers upon his neck.

“I clean up nicely huh?” he winked at you making you even more woozy. You might pass out before you make it out of the room.

‘Calm down girl-now is not the time to play!‘

“She shouldn't wear that.” Sukuna coughed finally speaking up.

“She can wear whatever she wants.”

Okay if you actually did want to wear this mad respect for Toji.

“She will freeze to death.”

That was actually your line to get out of this outfit-

“I got something for that.” Toji shifted you to the side as he stood. He walked over to grab something but as he did that you looked toward Sukuna and his glary expression.

You most certainly didn't want to wear this out but why didn't he?

“Here…” Toji came back with a small box. He opened it up to reveal dangling red earrings.

“Oh…” you gasp. “They are pretty Toji.” you offer him a smile as you take them.

“These will keep her warm.” Toji spoke to Sukuna as he held up a mirror for you to check out your appearance.

Firestones, nice. The dangling earrings really added to the outfit.

“Still...-” Sukuna continued.

You sat upon the bed as the two argued. You didn't know how to interject yourself into this conversation because it was clear Sukuna was jealous and actually didn't have a solid reason for you not to wear the outfit.

It was cute.

“Still what Sukuna?” Toji snapped the small box closed with a loud pop. His tone starting to get growly and irritated.

“-…You can't have her walking around like a piece of meat waiting to be devoured.”

Oh my is that how I look?

Toji snorted at the hypocrisy, “Ryoumen you took her to a sex club and tried to have sex with her in the park, I don't want to hear it.”

“Tch- that was different-”

“And how so?”

“I claimed her, showed them who she belonged to. Hell, I sent some people fleeing when I transformed, no one would ever think of touching her.”

“I don’t need to fuck her to show she belongs to me Ryoumen.” Toji growled while fixing the cuffs of his sleeve. “And if need be, ripping someone's head off with my bare hands will suffice.”

“I'm sure it won't come to that.” You added with a little laugh to hopefully defuse the situation. You could feel the heat rising and smell the tension. It was starting to give you the jitters. Light back and forth was fine but when it felt like the two were about to throw fists that's where you draw the line.

There was a knock on the door cutting into the tense air. Toji went for it, hissing at Sukuna while he was at it. “You don't think I can take care of my girl?” he sounded so offended.

“I didn't say that…” Sukuna muttered.

Toji opened the door as you silently tried to not stare too much at Sukuna. You were quite taken away by their exchange. You almost wanted to laugh, but you kept your giggles on the inside. It was always entertaining to see them do this little fight over you like you were some precious thing to have and be taken care of. Your inner feminist was dying of thirst but being pampered and fought over by your alphas most certainly fed something inside you.

You heard Inumaki’s voice at the door but before the beta could say anything Toji hushed him, “Don’t say anything I want it to be a surprise.” He then shouted to you, “I'll be right back.”

“Okay!” You called as Toji left leaving you alone with Sukuna.

In awkward silence.

You pat your legs to a random beat in an uneasy fidget. Soon you couldn't take it anymore- it may have been like thirty seconds really- but you don't know how to accept this weird atmosphere. So you go for some light teasing because comedy is your defense mechanism.

“You really think I shouldn't be wearing this?”

“Doesn't matter what I think. Your daddy is taking you out.”

“My oh my, Ryoumen, don't tell me you're jealous.”

Sukuna’s red eyes rolled to you in a slight glare, that's when you let your smile crack your lips and your mask fell. You just showed him you found this whole thing amusing. And that might have been your greatest mistake. Sukuna pushed off the wall clearing the room in two long strides. You let out a little gasp crawling backward on the bed.

Oh fuck oh fuck -

“Wait-”

“Don't run now.”

...

~

*Read More*

[inkysquelched]

Them.

I drew my bozos and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now get ready for a long post as I talk about my headcannons for them. Feel free to ask me anything about them, I love rambling:

Agent 3: Has a major RBF, but she’s nice I promise you. She’s been enjoying her role as captain but was overwhelmed at first.

Weapon preferences: shooters, chargers

Fave Special: Splashdown

Agent 4: Just vibing honestly, she’s gotten pretty good at hacking/research over the years.

Weapon preferences: daulies, brushes

Fave Special: Boyah Bomb

Agent 8: Curses in octarian at least 5 times a day. Remarkably relaxed despite all the bs shes been through.

Weapon preferences: shooters

Fave Special: Triple Inkstrike

Neo 3: A chaotic child, will occasionally eat stuff off the floor.

Weapon preferences: tri-stringer, blasters if shes feeling spicy

Fave Special: Super Chump

Some Honorable Mentions:

3 has a major sweet tooth and she won’t apologize for it. (shes awful with spicy food tho gchfxgfz)

Neo really likes bread.

8 will eat the most criminally offensive spicy food without a reaction.

3 likes to sleep in her squidform, it’s kinda weird to others. It’s honestly more worrying if she doesn’t shift forms. (hc that people usually only do that when theyre really sick…..and then theres 3)

4 listens to her music too loud.

3 and 4 bicker all the time, but it rarely gets to a point where they’re actually upset. They especially fight about how to lead on missions (this is moot bc 3 is the captain lol) because 3 prefers the “slow and steady” approach and 4 prefers to play “fast and loose”, if that makes sense. (8s just here for the ride)

The squid sisters like to say that 3 and 4 are twins and they both hate it.

3 is a runaway, Neo is an orphan. Different circumstances, same outcome. They relate to each other a lot and I think thats awesome (and sad).

Neo (and 8) will occasionally say some out of pocket shit without realizing just how messed up it really is: “what? you’ve never had to eat out of the trash before?”

3 is very emotionally numb and has a hard time expressing any care towards others, so she ends up showing it through favors/giving advice/“are you ok?”s. She’ll tell you to put on a jacket when it’s 70 degrees out lol. (this is also why she’s a mess around 8, those are feelings she has no idea how to deal with)

3 is terrified of being sick (like bedridden sick, haha sanitization go brr) and will inwardly panic the whole time.

3 has the worst alcohol tolerance behind Marie and 4. (Callie will drink 12 shots of vodka without flinching)

Octolings have a very different view on relationships than inklings do; inklings will date/marry out of love while octolings will treat it more as a transaction (not saying they can’t, love just isn’t a priority). 8 as had and infatuation for 3 for years but doesn’t act on it because she wasn’t sure if she really felt the way she did. She knows inklings hold more weight to relationships and didn’t want to risk hurting 3 if she was wrong. (the events of side order really helped her figure it out)

After the events of Splatoon 2, 4 took a back seat on being an agent. Less frontlines and more research focused. (like Marie lol) She hated this at first, but grew to like it.

3s alter ego is DJ Sango, she uses her rapping/singing to vent. 4 and 8 play dumb and pretend they don’t know about her account. (They both listen to her music tho 😶)

8 is extremely calm, you’d have to be trying to piss her off.

Inklings are like mood rings, there tentacles will change color depending on their mood (think like streaks or spots of other colors) The more intense the emotion, the deeper the color.

8 and 3 both have to clean/replace their weapon filters more often than most but for different reasons: for eight its bc shes an octoling (their ink is more abrasive) while 3 has thicker ink than normal as the last remnant of being partially sanitized.

3 isn’t actually as stinky as the squid sisters will have you believe. She one time came back from a mission smelling particularly RANKED that day, and they’ve never let her live it down.

There’s probably more but I can’t think of any rn

k bye <3

[novasintheroom]

005. Simplicity

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.5k

♡ Warnings - none

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3!

The tumble of machines is quiet. Surprising, for a large city like April. But, you suppose that was a perk of a hole-in-the-wall laundromat – no one is coming here to party.

Swirls of water and color dance along the wall. Dryers shake against each other. An oldie station plays overhead, a song crooning out tunes from a long-dead artist. You stand by a dryer, waiting anxiously for it to signal that it’s done.

BEEEEEP. It slows to a stop, and you open the lid. With a sigh of relief, you tug out Vash’s red coat. The blood stains are gone. There are no new tears, just the ones you’ll have to sew up when you get back to the inn. You hold it up to your nose and breathe in the fresh cotton scent from the soap you’ve bought. It doesn’t smell like him anymore. You’d need to fix that.

After checking on your washer for yours and his spare clothing, you trek back to the front. Vash sits on a chair in front of the windows, idly leafing through one of the old magazines the laundromat stocks. Without preamble, you toss the coat over his head.

Vash sputters a yelp, then gently draws off his coat. “Oh,” he says, and takes a big sniff. “That smells good!”

“Right?” You sit next to him and fiddle with the sleeve. “Now all we need to wash is you.”

Vash guffaws and gives you a look. “Are you saying I smell?” When you make a face, he gasps. “That’s so mean!”

“Stinky,” you say, then lay your head on his shoulder. He forgives easily and lays his head on yours. “It’s got another fifteen minutes before I can switch it to the dryer,” you tell him.

He hums. “Do you want to go get something to eat? Are you hungry?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I asked you.”

“Yeah, but you only ever ask when you’re getting hungry.”

Vash laughs, caught. “Yeah, I’m getting a little hungry. But we can wait ‘til the loads done.”

You shift to push your head a bit more onto his shoulder. “What kind of food do they have in April? I smelled some ramen, I think.”

“They have all kinds. We should try all of them while we’re here. Especially the chocolate-and-raspberry donuts.”

You laugh. It’s a treat to be in a big city. Not often do Plants cry out in them – they have plenty of Plant engineers ready to aid their power supplies – but one called to Vash, and he needs to answer. The laundry facilities and real, cooked street food are a plus for the journey. You pat his thigh. “We’ll get some good treats, don’t you worry.”

It’s nice to sit and rest. No running, no bounty hunters (yet), just the hum of drying machines and the splash of cleaning water. A woman sits in the far corner, turning her own magazine while her little boy presses his nose to one of the washer windows. A trolly rolls by outside. The simplicity of it all is not lost on you. Not today.

Vash must feel it too. He presses a kiss to your head and mutters, “Love you.”

You smile and whisper back, “Love you too.”