#you have lost teeth privilege

[starstruck-thetraveler]

Gonna be lost in space for the next few days, getting some wisdom of mine rememoved. Guess the wisdoms stored in teeth.

[innerfare]

Playing With Your Nipples 

Summary: how they play with your nipples

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // nothing too explicit, Sanji is sweet, Kid is merciless

——— 

Luffy:

This is an act in and of itself. He can be pretty insular in that he only does one thing at a time because he gets so lost in it, and playing with your nipples is no exception. That being said, he can’t actually hold back, usually tweaking them slowly for what feels like ages but is really only a few seconds before finally going in with his watering mouth. Has a habit of talking with his mouth full, muttering things against your tits like, “could do this for hours.” When he does eventually move further down your body, he’ll keep his fingers on your nipples.

Zoro:

Very casual in the way he goes about it. Often lets his intrusive thoughts win when it comes to your tits. If you’re wearing a low-cut shirt or he can see your nipples through the sports bra you’re wearing while the two of you work out together, he’ll reach down your shirt or pull down your bra and play with your nipples. If he sees you in the shower, he will be reaching in to squeeze your tits and pinch your nipples a few times. But he doesn’t often escalate in these scenarios; that’s on you. Really likes having you on top during sex so he can reach up and lazily play with your nipples. 

Sanji:

So sweet, so gentle, takes the privilege of seeing you topless very seriously. Never misses an opportunity to bury his face between your breasts, which inevitably leads to him tugging your top down and placing sweet kisses on your nipples, keeping his eyes open because he wants to see them grow erect. When he eventually starts sucking on them, he’s moaning and taking breaks to tell you how perfect you are. He treats your nipples like they’re delicate, too, like they’ll break if he goes too hard on them. If you want teeth, you’re going to have to ask. 

Ace:

The king of feeling you up. Has literally never gotten into bed beside you without sliding his hands beneath your shirt. This inevitably leads to him thumbing your nipples, his fingers making slow circles around the sensitive nubs before he starts pinching and pulling, eventually going in with his mouth. If he catches you in a hallway or empty room and wraps his arms around you from behind, this also typically escalates to him reaching beneath your shirt to play with your nipples. But it’s never so casual that it doesn’t escalate. If he gets his hands beneath your shirt, he’ll be fucking you, and he’ll be pinching your nipples the entire time. 

Sabo:

The sight of your naked tits is almost bewitching. His eyes zero in on your nipples and his lips part. He goes in tongue first, licking them in much the same way he licks your clit, all thoughts leaving his head as you tangle your fingers in his hair. When he takes breaks, it’s to pinch your nipples while he leaves hickeys all over your tits; no sooner do the marks fade than is he back at it again. Probably his favorite thing is when you give him a blowjob in a position that allows him to play with your nipples while you work; he pinches them very hard when you make him cum. Has definitely tied you up and tortured you with a feather before. 

Law:

When he starts palming your tits, he takes so long to get to your nipples you think you’re going to die. He can be a bit rough with your tits, but never with your nipples, hardly ever biting or pinching, just thumbing and kissing. Probably one of his favorite naughty activities is stripping you down in front of a mirror and kneading your tits, eyes pinned to your nipples. If not that, then he likes holding you in his lap while he works, one hand beneath your shirt. He’s really into spanking, too, and that includes your tits. He’ll smack them while he fucks you, leaning down to kiss your nipples after every three or four times. 

Kid:

Feral in general, but especially when it comes to your nipples. He’ll chew them raw if you let him, saliva running down your tits and abdomen because he’s so ridiculously messy about it. And when he’s done a number on your nipples with his teeth, he insists you allow him to suck on them to make them feel better (don’t let him, it won’t work). Has pierced them and takes it upon himself to decide which barbells you wear. Will definitely magnetize the barbells to pull you into his lap. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[bunnygirllover45]

— The shape of love. ﹑◌﹒WARNINGS﹕Kidnapping, implied punishment, ugly jealousy, some descriptions of body harm ( just wounds or bruises, and it doesn't get too graphic), lots, and lots of deranged ramblings, it gets very dark at times. This is narrated from the POV of the Yandere, you can read this as a 'letter' of sorts.

♱ ✧ ⤷ Word count: 997 (felt lazy and I didn't reach 1k lmao.)

There you go again, looking at me with the same eyes as always.

I don’t know how many times I’ve repeated moments like this inside my head since the last time. It's been a while since I've been this close to you.

The trembling of your body lets me know that your excitement is as big as mine, is your body perhaps unable to contain all those bubbling feelings?

I grab your legs, my hands softly pressing against the flesh, feeling it under mine —so soft and delicate, for a moment I thought that maybe if I pushed my fingers inside of it I could spread it like a cloud made of cotton— when I pressed I could fee the shape of your bones underneath just a little, the sensation made my own body tremble.

It’s a shame you’re still shy to my touch, even if it’s something simple like a small caress or a kiss on the cheek you’re always trying to push away from me, I would love if you to cling onto me more when I do it or have you begging silently to do something more. I know you wouldn’t tell me with words, you’re not good with them.

Now that I think about it, I’ve never heard you say my name since I brought you here, no?

I should tell you what it is now so you could say it between sighs and I could engrave the sound on the back of my brain forever — those sweet sounds could captivate me forever.

I wonder if you’d say my name with a kind voice, or you’ll just talk to me with the same indifference and fear that’s so characteristic of you. I do admit that is kind of endearing, wild animals were always more interesting than domesticated ones thanks to their hostility, it makes me want to approach them, stick my hand, and see if they’ll bite me, or would just run away and hide in a corner.

I wouldn’t mind if you bit me, I would love to bite you as well in fact, I would wear that mark proudly and I would make sure you do it as well, we could bite our fingers and pretend the marks are our wedding rings, a testament of our love engraved on our skin.

Hahaha — I’m rambling again, please don’t get nervous, you know I usually get lost in my thoughts when I’m here with you, especially when my hands are idly dragging across your skin  — nails and all — leaving red marks behind.

I’m just tracing small invisible circles on your skin and you’re already getting goosebumps, I think that when I touch you delicately like this is when you fear it the most, right? I’m always keeping the momentum, you’ll never know when I can dig my nails into your skin or grab you and never let go.

I press a simple kiss on the skin of your heel, dragging my lips across the length of your leg, what a celestial feeling, there’s nothing in this world that could compare to this mere sensation. You’re trembling again, that makes me smile.

Sometimes when night falls and there are no more thoughts left to think inside my head my mind begins to wander off the path, usually it doesn’t lead me anywhere in particular, but since some time ago I’ve had this constant thought; there are other  —people— that had touched you like this before?

I would like to think that I’m the only one who had the privilege to enjoy all of you, that no other mark of fingers or teeth that doesn’t have the shape of mine has been on your skin.

Thinking like that makes sleeping easier for me.

I’m thankful that right now you can’t speak to me, because if I made you that question and you responded to me that yes, other people had marked you like I did, I think I would had the impulse to tear apart each part of you that has been tainted by them.

Not because I hate you, on the contrary, I just think I couldn’t live with the idea. That you belonged to someone else even if it was just for a moment, what am I saying? I don’t even like the idea of you belonging to yourself.

But if I were to do that, I think I’d like to go to extremes no other people could; kiss your open wounds or taste your blood, that would be romantic, don’t you think?

I press my face against your thighs while I keep dragging my nails up and down your legs, I sigh again, tilting my head slightly to take a better look at you, I can see myself reflected in your own eyes now, how romantic, just like in the movies you like to watch.

I like the me I see in your eyes, I like the idea that it belongs to you alone, the idea of you keeping each small expression I make just for you, each blink would be like a small photograph you take of me and keep inside your head, aaaalll yours.

My mother used to tell me that love is only true if you can see it reflected in the one you love,

From your red cheeks — was I too rough last night?

Your bruised knees — If you would just learn how to sit properly at the table already, it would make our meals more easy.

Your beautiful hands — You should stop trying to take off your handcuffs.

Your shining eyes — Is that a small tear I see? Maybe I should reach it and lick it, I wouldn’t like to go to waste.

Yes, I think for the first time something she said made sense, now that I took a better look at you, I don’t think there’s any better proof of this —

You’re the truest, most beautiful form of ‘love’.

[amiableness]

Hockey!James Potter x Lupin!Reader ❆ 663 words

thank you to @moonpascal for reading this and giving me ideas! hockey!james is dedicated to you, babes <3 series masterlist ; main masterlist

“Put a shirt on—my sister’s coming over.” Remus calls out, smacking the back of the couch behind Sirius’ head. Sirius barely flinches, too absorbed in the video game to care. James glances up from where he’s sitting, his gaze casually following Remus as he walks into the living room. But then, as the words register, his head snaps back for a double take.

“Your sister’s coming over?” James sits up straighter, his interest piqued. “When?”

Remus glances at his phone as he settles into the chair next to the couch, “Pretty soon.”

“He’s one shot away from dead, James,” Sirius mutters through gritted teeth, his fingers flying over the buttons, laser-focused on the screen. “Get on that. Now.”  

Silence.  

Sirius darts a quick, panicked glance to his right, expecting to see James ready for action, only to find him staring intently at Remus instead, his controller slack in his hands.  

“Pretty soon? What does that mean? Ten minutes? Thirty?” James asks, his thoughts drifting to the state he’s in—his hair a disheveled mess from repeatedly running his hands through as he played games for half the day. Not to mention, he’s still lounging in his pajama pants, a consequence of having no classes and a rare night off from hockey practice. 

If he’d known you were coming over today, he would’ve made an effort—fixed his hair, changed out of his lazy clothes, maybe even tidied up the place a bit.

“James!” Sirius barks, his frustration mounting. “I said get on him, not play twenty questions!”  

Remus shrugs as he strides further into the room, completely unfazed by the chaos. “Again—I don’t know, mate. She just said, ‘pretty soon.’”

James frowns, his brow furrowing. “Do I have time to shower?”  

The high-pitched sound of a game-over screen fills the room, and Sirius throws his controller down with a groan. “Oh, bloody hell! We could’ve won that!” 

James glances over at the screen with a slight wince, “Shit, sorry.”

“Remus, you’re up,” Sirius announces, grabbing the controller James has abandoned and tossing it to Remus, who barely catches it. A disappointed look is shot in James’ direction as Sirius sets up the new game. “You’ve lost your privileges.”

Remus takes the controller, his eyes flicking to James as he stands and begins collecting the forgotten cans and empty food containers scattered around. Sirius glances over with an amused smirk, his gaze lingering on James’ frantic tidying.

“Should I be concerned that you’re cleaning up for my sister?” Remus asks, raising an eyebrow. James turns to face him, a guilty and uncertain expression crossing his face.

“Uh, I do—” James stammers, clearly unsure how to respond without annoying Remus. 

“If you’re gonna change, you might as well throw on a backwards hat,” Remus says, interrupting casually, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers hover over the buttons. “She finds it hot on guys.” He catches James out of the corner of his eye—sees him straighten, the words sinking in as he nods slowly. Without a word, James turns and heads for the kitchen, muttering to himself, like he’s trying to remember where he’s got a baseball hat lying around.

“Wait, does she really?” Sirius asks, raising an eyebrow. Remus mutters a distracted “yeah.”

“Noted,” He nods, a sly grin creeping across his face. “I’ll be sure to wear one around her next time.”

Remus turns and shoots him a warning look, making Sirius pause. “Seriously? You’re handing him tips, but I can’t even joke about using them?”

“No, because he’s actually interested in being with her. You’re just interested in flirting with her.” Remus says, shooting Sirius a look of warning and protectiveness— the kind only a brother could deliver.

Sirius rolls his eyes, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, fully aware that Remus is right. James had fallen for you the moment Remus introduced you four years ago—his feelings for you were real, and somehow, everyone but you could see it.

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please please please consider reblogging and/or commenting. it keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads my work 🤍

[yandere-wishes]

⭒ㅤׂ ɪ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒ㅤ𓈒 Yandere!WuWa! Men x Reader 𓈒 ⭒

゜⌒ヽ❥ Dark Romance

°•❃•°

꒷꒦꒷Scar | ��痕

Your fear tastes like nectar, thick and sweet, and sacrilegious. Scar gulps down your apprehension in starving strides. Cradling the burn between his teeth, savoring the sensation of the embers coiling and seething inside his veins. You're too perfect, thrashing underneath him, caged and defiant his little lost lamb. trying to flee, begging for freedom like a fever dream high. He licks your iridescent tears with zealous maniacal jubilation. Relishing in the soft warm flesh of your cheek marinated in your woe. He wants to taste them every day, force them from your pretty petrified eyes with scorching kisses and touches that shatter your very bones.

Scar's talons etch jagged filigrees across your body engraving terrors and torments all parodying "I love you". But he can't love, not really, love is too gentle too vain, he needs to consume, to feel the reverberations trapped between your bones. Scar's kisses burn wakes down your spine, slipping between the vertebras. Hollowing out your essence piece by piece, his hunger knows no bonds, refusing to dwindle until he's bled every delicious part of you dry. Until he feels your heart between his teeth.

˚✶˚Jiyan | 忌炎

You trace his markings, nails gliding gingerly through the jagged crystals of his tacet mark. He kisses the hollow of your palm, basking in the sweet giggle you gift him. You're his precious treasure, a sweet gem imported from the silk roads themselves. He'd do anything to keep you safe binding your soul to his tattered one. Jiyan is the Qingloong that everyone looks up to, the indestructible pillar of Jinzhou. And yet a simple smile from you is all it takes to shatter his illusion of strength.

Between patients, his mother would sometimes grace him with fables about Dragons, not Loong, not the creature their nation worshiped but Dragons monsters from the western nations. She'd tell him How they hoarded exotic treasures from all corners of the world. Growing powerful in the light of other's envy. They did anything to protect their gold coins and pearl necklaces, kill, and maim in the name of obsession. Back then he'd found such creatures disgusting, dubbed it blasphemy to even mention them in the same breath as the deific Loong. Now he thinks he's more dragon than Loong. Hoarding you away keeping you only to himself. Promising to maul any who try to rob him of your sweet kisses and angelic laughter.

𒆜Calcharo | 卡卡罗

You come prepackaged with a soft smile and a docile heart. Calcharo thinks it's all from the privilege of having lived a satisfactory life. Cherished, overfed, protected. All the things stripped of him so young. He shouldn't be jealous though, after all, he has the complacency to thank for turning his darling into such an ideal doll. Jejune and helpless, shivering under his cold touch. He harbors you between his thighs, enjoying the way your pearl-kissed dress pools on the floor. An ivory testament to the innocence he so craves. Calcharo's calloused fingers entrap the hollow of your hips pulling you harshly against him, he can't get enough of you. His lips kiss the dip of your neck nose bumping the back of your ear. Enraptured by the floral scent of your perfume.

You tried to run again today, flee when he'd been out escorting a merchant across the desert terrain. His men had caught you, binded you all pretty and left you in his chamber. He flashes you a crooked smile upon entry. Watching as you struggle and glare knowing damn well it won't change a thing. "Really little rabbit? I thought we had ceased playing such foolish games." He grasps your chin pulling you closer, your knees slide across the wooden floor scuffing from the friction. His cold lips trace your own as he whispers degradations laced with romance. Calcharo leans down for the kill, a lethal crushing kiss. Trapping your lips and engulfing your essence. Laughing when you're foolish enough to return the favor. You shiver and moan and it takes every bit of willpower not to devour you right then and there.

☄Mortefi | 莫特斐

The universe reverberates to a familiar tune when he first sees you. Singing a melody he swears he's heard each night when he lays his wry head to rest. What kind of creature are you? A cacophony of starsongs and golden echoes. He longs to touch you, to permit his flames to traverse your body searing you until you shine with the purity you all so deserve. He loses himself in the melody of your voice, the lost tune of a fading nova. Something too ethereal to be of this crude world.

Mortefi fancies himself a scientist and takes utmost pride in the way his mind curves around a problem. Floating through the riddles seeking answers in the dark. He can fix anything, create anything. And yet you stand before him defiant of his understanding. Mortefi grabs you by the collar, cradling a rogue sun within his palms, kissing its rays trying to grasp comprehension between his teeth and swallow it whole. It doesn't work by the end of the kiss you are still an anomaly and he is still a scientist wearing the heart as some hapless love-struck schoolboy. The need to understand you grows claws tearing at his mind, desperation pierces his throat whenever he catches a mere glimpse of you. He needs to understand, to tear you open and choke your secrets.

҉　Aalto | 秋水

Aalto's fingers weave through your hair, silk traversing through bone and flesh, flowing free in the aero he produces subconsciously. He cradles you delicately in his arms, trying his best to ignore the sour frown etched upon your face. He creates fables, spinning stories out of silk and air trying to win your interest with tales of stray sheep and fallen stars. Of lost treasures on the jade road and little girls with fire flowing through their veins. Your frown doesn't falter.

He kisses you again, and again and again. Trying to pry out adoration and devotion from between your bones. He struggles, whining about detesting and freedom. It sounds so trivial especially when he can give you everything your heart desires. He can't let you go, not when his very essence aches to feel you between his arms. Aalto wonders what stories he must make to erase that blood-curdling frown of yours. What information does he need to lay out your feet for you to grace his lips with your own? A lover's kiss, not whatever this is. I love you he whispers, he doubts you even care.

Let me know what you think. Should I do yandere Jiyan x reader x Yandere Calcharo next? ~💜

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HI ILY!!! i was wondering if u could do a argument fic likeeeee katsuki and reader got into a argument and they are both DISTRAUGHT bc they’re so corny and in love and hate fighting but the argument was bad and they’re oh so sad whatever whatever !! and katsuki has to make it up to them EEE !! PLEASE I LIVE EAT SLEEP AND BREATHE UR FANFICS !! LOVE U CASHHH🤍

operation : trouble in paradise !

katsuki tries to get his boyfriend privileges back..

EEEE TYSM AND I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ASK !! Its my guilty pleasure like both parties hating to argue bc they love each other so much im so sorry that’s adorable. and again ty SOOO much !!! hope you enjoy, ive actually gotten a similar ask, so that one ill try to have that come out soon !

FEM READER, katsuki is melodramatic, argument, fluff fluff despite argument, 3rd year bk squad boys !, kissing, making up yipeee, reader likes flowers,lemme know if i missed sum else !

“she fuckin’ hates me.”

for the past ten minutes he’d barged into kirishima’s room, bakugou has been moping. wallowing, even.

“no she doesn’t, man..” kirishima reassured. for the umpteenth time, he’s honestly lost count. he’d tried putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder earlier but said boy had shrugged him off angrily, grumbling out a dramatic “don’t touch me.” despite being flopped face down on his bed.

“i know her better, kirishima. yes she does.” the blonde insists, voice muffled by the redhead’s pillows. kirishima sighs, patting his friends leg before making his way to his office chair across from the bed, ignoring the muffled grumbles bakugou lets out.

“how bout you just..go apologize ?”

“i already told you i can’t. she—”

“yeah, she hates you. got it.” kirishima finishes his friends sentence, causing the blond to groan. “look dude, you’ll never know unless you try. you’ve been together for ages now.”

“a year.” katsuki corrects, he purposely forgets to mention he knows exactly how many months it has been too. kirishima nods excitedly, trying to get him out of his frankly sad state. “yeah ! so, this shouldn’t be anything man. arguments happen all the time, no matter how much you love each other.”

katsuki feels his ears burn at the word love on his friends lips, he’s told you he loved you of course. but it still felt weird to acknowledge it.

he turns just enough for his scowl to be visible to his friend, who sends him an encouraging smile.

“so what the fuck do i do then ?” kirishima grins wider, sharp teeth on display. “there we go, that’s more like ya, dude !” he exclaims. he quickly shuffles to grab a notepad strewn onto his messy desk (kirishima’s desk was so messy it made katsuki itch sometimes, a shiver almost passes through him whenever he sees the state it’s in)

kirishima drops onto the floor, placing the notepad onto his mattress and scribbling, with a pen katsuki has no idea where he fished out, a messy “operation: get your bf privileges back !!!!!!” bakugou fixes kirishima with a dead look, the other only tilts his head, still cheerful.

“what ?”

“what the fuck is this, kirishima.”

kirishima scoffs at the blonde’s dead tone, “listen man, you wanna win your girlfriend back or not ?!” bakugou squints at him, hard. but only let’s out a loud sigh. kirishima takes that as his answer and with a nod continues writing down notes.

katsuki groans to himself, looking down at his friend scribbling down his grand plan, and he better hope it works.

maybe you should call him..

no, you won’t. it was his fault you were like this anyway.

..but maybe you went a bit too far..?

ugh. you groan, rolling around in your bed. you’d tried to distract yourself by going through your tiktok feed but it seemed the world was against you or your fbi agent hated your guts. your feed was either overly cutesy couples content that made you miss your angry blond, or break up videos that made you miss him even more.

ugh. you shove your head even harder in your pillows.

you’re really trying to hold your ground, because you want katsuki to know he’d hurt your feelings, but now that you think about it you don’t even remember what you’d argued about. it was petty for sure, you’re about 80% sure it was a petty argument.

maybe you should—

you shake your head, steeling your nerves. so what if it was a dumb argument ?! that didn’t mean he could get away with everything!

“uuuugh,” you groan out loud, you miss your katsuki.

a knock at your door startles you. it must be mina, you’d texted her earlier that you were mad at your boyfriend and she’d told you that she “excepted all the deets of what his dumbass did this time as SOON as i get back !!!!” and you were waiting, maybe venting about it could make you feel better and less dramatic.

you open your door expecting to see your overly excited best friend. but instead—

flowers, almost whacking you in the face you might add, are shoved in your face before you can get a word out. you squeak in shock, they’re pretty though, your favorites. and you know only one person who knows what your favorite flowers are.

“wh-katsuki ?!”

and there he is, red faced and angry. scowl on his face and bouquet of pretty flowers in hand.

you can’t tear your eyes away from him, he can’t keep his eyes in one spot—flying from you occasionally to your door to the flowers and repeat. he blinks, you blink.

“here.” he grunts, waving the flowers towards you. “f’r you.” he glances at you.

“o-oh !” you exclaim suddenly, whisking the flowers towards yourself. the bouquet is big, it’s definitely a bit bigger than your head. katsuki searches your face to gauge your reaction“i—uhm! thank you..” you utter shyly, katsuki grunts. he shoves his hands in his pockets the moment you’ve gripped the bouquet, kicking at something you can’t see on the floor.

your heart skips a beat. tentatively, you lean against the door “didn’t take you for a flower guy..”

he scoffs, kicking the toe of his sneakers against the floor “‘m not.. but you like these, right ?”

trick question. he knows you do, you mentioned in passing these were your favorites, unless you suddenly decided you didn’t like these anymore. then he’s fucked. but he decides to continue despite the worry growing in his lower belly, the plan was already a go now.

“i—uhm, listen..” your boyfriend fumbles, he throws his head back and groans when his words won’t come out right. you give him a tiny smile, his eyes soften just a bit.

“i fucked up, okay ?” he admits, scratching at his nape “shouldn’t have said all that shit to you, or whatever..” you can tell he’s beyond embarrassed. he’d melt if he could get any redder, he keeps scratching and won’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time and katsuki who’s always the loudest in the room can barely manage a mumble. you know he means it though, he never did anything he didn’t feel like doing. you wait for him to continue and he looks at you then.

“i don’t ever like arguing with you. ever.” he insists “so jus..forgive me, kay ?” he finishes quietly. your heart jumps and leaps and you can’t stand acting cold anymore. you walk a bit closer to him, the flowers block you from fully being close to him.

katsuki’s eyes are wide as you lean in to kiss right next to his lips, you laugh at his bewildered expression and his eyes soften when he snaps out of it. he rolls his eyes, you smile wider.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry too. i don’t like arguing with you either..” you admit, katsuki reaches for your hand, you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, you give it to him and he grips it tight. then he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, it’s a sweet little apology kiss that turns a bit too passionate after a while, and you pull him towards you and into your room away from prying eyes. katsuki kicks the door shut behind him and pulls you closer by your waist.

“guess i gotta—thank shitty hair..” he mumbles in between kisses, “an’ i owe him twenty bucks.”

you make a noise against his lips and pull away, raising a brow and holding his shoulders when he tries to lean in to kiss you again. “what’s that mean ?”

your boyfriend huffs “told shitty hair i’d give him twenty bucks if his shitty plan worked.”

“plan, what plan ?” you ask, katsuki squints at you, a grumbling noise comes from his throat, almost a whine.

“yer really gonna make me spell it out aren’t you..” he mutter bitterly, shoving his head in your neck. he continues, “shitty hair helped me come up with a plan to make you not mad at me anymore. i told him it wouldn’t work, he said it would, and we bet on it.”

you laugh in disbelief, katsuki chomps at your neck to silence you, squeezes his arms tighter around your stomach to make you wheeze, but you can’t stop laughing. “that’s so cute !”

“shaddup.” he growls in response. you muffle your giggles in his shoulder. katsuki grumbles some more and you run your hands up and down his back.

“well then,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his nape, his arms around you tighten. “i guess we’ll both have to thank kiri then.”

[twooftheluckyones]

Cult of the Lamb fancomic: Luck of the Lamb

Part 1: Give Unto Me A Name

To say the name of the gods is to knock against the doors of their divinity. Such that they held their true names closely, for the call could surpass all barriers. Exchanging true names became a sign of partnership, trust, and perhaps even in some cases, union…

~Next~ ~~~~ Story Segment Under Cut ~~~~

"-and boil for eternity!" Narinder boomed, laughing to himself as he imagined Heket locked in a cauldron of oil. Chains tightened against his arms from his motions, and his laughter withered like a sail with no wind. He bowed his head and was quiet for a long moment, looking the Lamb in the eyes. "Return to your cult. Shamura is the last to hold me. Drive a knife in their heart, and at last I will be free... Go now. Please." He pointed towards the stone to teleport back, mind a mixture of rage, gloom, and loneliness. She nodded, excited by his sheer energy and power. But before she left she had a question. "...I have one request," she paused, hands wriggling in a sudden flash of anxiety. Shamura's words echoed in her mind, one burning like a forbidden flame. "I was told your name while on my mission, but I wanted your blessing before I dare use it... As your vessel, may I address you by name?" "You ask for so much little lamb," he chided. "Do not press the limits of our affiliation too quickly." He paused, humming thoughtfully, an ear flicking. Perhaps there was something to be gained here. "I will not give you the privilege without something in return." His brow raised, curious. "Tell me your own and you shall have mine." She hadn’t given her name in a very long time. It was hard to even remember it at all. Memories of her 'life' were almost foggy, stretching back hundreds of years from the time she'd spent in his service. From the depths she retrieved it, but more than just her name surfaced. Her father, pinned down with arrows bristling from his chest as he pleaded for her to run. Her mother, grabbing her wrist in a vice grip as they fled. The memory was so distant, yet felt like it had just happened. "Una. My name is Una." Her voice numb, barely a whisper. She blinked, shaking away the past and returned to meet his eyes. "Una..." He tasted her name on his tongue, trying to decipher what it meant. He hadn't been on the surface in hundreds of years, culture was entirely lost. "Very well then, you may refer to me as Narinder. But know that divine names have power. To use them can be a summoning, of sorts. Were you to use my name, I would know it. Your shred of divinity may share that, so guard your name well." Shadow covered his face, nothing but the faint light of three red eyes breaking past its veil. "Not all summons are made with good intentions..." He looked at the chains on his wrists, glaring with hatred. "Narinder," His name had a distinct flavor. Faintly reminiscent of the iron tang of blood, a faint chill lingering beyond the sound. She could feel the magic in it, sparks in her body, tingling and electric. While she knew she would only use his name in conversations with him and him alone, that didn't mean she wouldn't use it in private moments of prayer. Perhaps he would be just a little present in those now. She liked that thought, smiling and blushing despite herself. "Your name will be cherished and protected." "Good. Now Una, go rid this world of my enemies, slowly and horrifically please." He grinned, sharp teeth glistening from ear to ear.

Narinder watched her go, as she turned into an ethereal energy and vanished. The gateway was silent. The realm of death was not known for its liveliness. Aym and Baal stood stoic and unflinching, as if they had not heard any of the conversation. Slowly the tension in his body faded, feeling the familiar weight of the chains on his arms. Soon. Patience. Their next meeting would likely be after Shamura's defeat, and then everything would be in place.

"I look forward to our next meeting Una."

[zepskies]

Lost Time

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.  

AN: I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now! Here’s a sequel story in the Every Second Counts world. Also, this is one of my entries for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

Word Count: 4.9K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff upon fluff, implied smut, mild spice.~ **DOES NOT contain spoilers for 2x02. This was written long before the new episode came out. But look out for the little announcement at the end. Some (smutty) bonus content on the way!

💜 Series Masterlist || Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Wolfing down lunch alone in your office usually meant you wouldn’t be disturbed. That distraction tended to come in the form of either Dr. Goldstein, History Department Chair (AKA: your boss), or Chris Belmont.

The latter was a language arts professor who liked to pop in on you when you were alone in the teacher’s lounge, often trying to revive yourself with a cup of Keurig coffee. Or he’d sit down next to you (uninvited) and talk your ear off.

Today, however, you made time for your brother between bites of your admittedly sad ham sandwich. You held the phone to your ear while you ate and tried to resist the urge to answer emails. This was the first month that he’d gotten phone privileges. You wanted to give him your undivided attention.

Not to mention, you genuinely wanted to know how Charlie was doing in rehab. He told you that his leg was healing up well after the surgery to repair the damage from Eddie Mendez’s bullet. Charlie was also getting put through his paces in the substance rehabilitation program, but he sounded truly sober. He sounded like himself.

“I finally get visitors this weekend,” he said. “Dave and Manny are coming by.”

“Dave and Manny. They sound familiar,” you said, tapping your chin with a pen out of habit, even though you weren’t writing anything down. You brightened with recognition. “Oh! Didn’t they serve with you?”

“Yeah, they were in my unit on the first go-round,” Charlie said, with a tone of fondness that you recognized. You remembered now. Those guys were like his brothers during his first tour of Iraq. He’d come home for a few months afterward, changed. You saw it behind his eyes.

And then the second tour. That was what almost killed his spirit.

“It’s good that you guys reconnected,” you said. A smile graced your lips. Charlie needed all the support and familiarity he could get, and coming from his brothers in the Air Force, it was all you could ask for really. “You got time to see your little sister?”

“Ha. Younger maybe. Definitely not little.”

“Whatever, gimpy,” you teased. He’d told you that he hated his crutches, made him feel like an old, one-legged pirate.

“I think I can pencil you in,” he said. There was good humor in his voice. “How about the Mountain Man? How’s he doing?”

Your smile dimmed. You twiddled your pen between your fingers. “He’s…good. He’s on a job right now, so I don’t think he’ll make it back in time for this weekend. But I’m sure he’d wish you well. He asks about you every time he comes home.”

“Oh, yeah? How long’s he been gone for this time?”

Your lips pursed. “Couple weeks.”

Three, and counting.

“But he’s supposed to get back next week.”

“Have you heard from him?” Charlie asked.

“Here and there,” you replied, leaning to one side of your desk chair. “He’s not really supposed to contact anyone when he’s on a job.”

“Mhmm.”

“Charlie,” you warned. You knew what he was thinking, even by that placid tone of his voice. Your brother sighed on the line.

“Look, I like Russell. What can I say, after what he did for you? For me,” Charlie said. “But…I don’t have to like what he does, or what it’s doing to you.”

Your teeth clenched, but you tried not to bristle. You knew he was just looking out for you, for once like an older brother should.

“I know what you’re saying, but we’re good. I’m good,” you said. “I knew what I was getting into…”

You saw Dr. Goldstein peek into the narrow, rectangular window in the middle of your office door. He gave you a little wave through the glass.

“Hey, Charlie, I’m sorry but I need to let you go. My boss wants to talk to me,” you said.

Another heavy sigh. “All right, I get it. Evade an unsavory conversation by playing the ‘boss’ card.”

Despite yourself, you smiled. “It’s true! Look, I love you. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Oh, fine. Evade away… Love you too,” he said begrudgingly, but in the kind of way that told you he was smiling too.

You hung up with him and beckoned Goldstein inside. He let himself in and closed the door behind him before he approached your desk. He didn’t have a stack of essays in his hand, so you counted that as a small blessing. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, however, he dropped a familiar bomb on you.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, sweetheart, but would you mind taking over my 5:00 p.m. class tomorrow? I have to step out early for an appointment,” he said.

You grated internally, for more than one reason. Primarily at the way he once again called you sweetheart. In your whole life, you’d only ever given one man permission to sweetheart you, and it certainly wasn’t Paul Goldstein.

“Well, my schedule is a bit tight tomorrow, but I think I can make that work—”

“Great! Thanks again, sweetheart,” he said, already getting up from the chair across from your desk to head out. Your voice stopped him at the door.

“Ah, you know…” You stood up from your desk. Part of you was hesitant, but the other part of you—the part that had survived nearly being shot and killed in the woods—stood firm. You rounded your desk but left a respectable distance between you and your boss.

“Paul, I would appreciate it if you would just…call me by my name. In a more professional capacity, just like I do for you,” you said. “Sweetheart, honey, that kind of thing just doesn’t make me feel very respected in the workplace.”

Goldstein blinked in surprise. He was taken aback, you could tell, as if what you’d said had never once occurred to him. Or maybe he just never thought you would call him out like that. You saw him mentally calculating though. After some recent sexual harassment allegations in the Sciences department, he likely didn’t want the headache and the red tape of an HR writeup.

“Of course. I’m sorry if I… Well, I hope you know I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said.

“I know, Paul,” you replied. But what you didn’t say was, It’s all right. 

The longer you remained quietly poised with your hands laced in front of you, the more Goldstein seemed to get the message. Eventually, he cast his gaze away and left your office with a parting nod. 

When the door shut behind him, your shoulders slumped as you let out a deep breath. You grabbed onto his vacated chair to steady yourself, smoothing your hand down the length of your pencil skirt. 

“Well, okay then.” You smiled to yourself and grabbed your phone and keys off your desk. That small win deserved an afternoon coffee break.

You ventured over to the faculty break room and started setting up an extra-large mug of coffee from the Keurig. Pumpkin spice, here I come. Finally PSL season. 

While you waited for it to percolate, you checked your phone and found no missed notifications, no calls or texts from your boyfriend. Biting the edge of your lip, you gave into the urge to check your text thread with him. 

Hey, just checking in. You okay? 

That was the last text you sent Russell, a few days ago. The fact that he hadn’t had time to read it worried you.

It had been three weeks since he left town on another job for the Horizon Group. He was able to reply here and there on some jobs, but often you had to deal with days of radio silence in between. This time, it had been a full two weeks since you last spoke to him–a five-minute call after he checked into his hotel, somewhere in Belize.

Despite your attempts otherwise, not a day had gone by where you hadn’t thought about him, worried about him, wondered where he was, and what he was doing. 

Even after four months, this arrangement hadn’t gotten easier. Sometimes, it felt like you were living half a life without him.

The coffeemaker chiming briefly broke you out of your melancholy, but you let the coffee sit there and cool while you deliberated with your phone in hand.

You tried to resist, since you didn’t want to bother him…but you ended up sending him another text. 

Hey. I don’t want to distract you. Just want you to know… 

I miss you.

“Oh, look who’s here.”

You looked up, already wanting to expel a breath of annoyance at the familiar voice. You plastered on a polite smile and turned to see exactly who you expected to see: your colleague Chris. There was really nothing wrong with the French and Spanish professor…except that he talked too much, and was often too eager to get into your business.

“How’s your day going?” he asked. After he grabbed a soda from the fridge, he parked himself in front of you and laid a hand on the counter. With one of the round dining tables so close, it ensured that you would have to squeeze by him in order to leave.

“Pretty good, just have one more class before I head out for the day,” you said. You intended to just make amiable conversation, but you didn’t realize you’d just given him an opening.

“You know, me too. Just my freshman Spanish 1 kids. Dumb as doornails really. They barely even look up when I talk,” he said. “Literally, I could be reciting Mein Kampf and they wouldn’t even know I was speaking German.” 

You couldn’t quite smile. You opened your mouth to reply, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, since we’re going to be clocking out soon, maybe you want to go for a drink with me. I know this bar. A little rough, but the price is right and the food’s not bad. This place called Howley’s,” he said.

Your non-smile dropped further. You really didn’t know where to start on this one.

“Ah, well—” you began, but again, he cut you off.

“To be honest, I’ve kind of been meaning to ask you for a while. I just uh, haven’t been able to find the right time. Since, you know, our class schedules don’t seem to match,” he added with a boyish smile.

He was cute, you could admit, with the dirty blonde hair down to his ears and the dark brown eyes. But it didn’t shake your resolve.

“Look, Chris. I’m sorry, but—”

“Is because we work together?” he said, once again interrupting you. “The whole workplace relationship thing?”

“No,” you said. It was sharper than you meant through your annoyance. “I actually have a boyfriend.”

Chris’s excited-nervous energy gradually deflated, his eyes dimming.

“Really? I’ve never seen you with anyone,” he said.

You quirked a brow at him. “Well, he doesn’t work here, so he wouldn’t really need to come to campus.”

You didn’t tell him that Russell was Dory’s older brother, and had in fact been on campus a couple of times. You shouldn’t have needed to explain it.

Chris gave you a wry look. “Sure. You really have a boyfriend, or are you just trying to let me down easy?”

You almost gaped at the man’s audacity. Instead, your lips pressed together, and your head tilted as you stared at him incredulously.

“Does it matter?” you asked.

He blinked. “Uh, what?” 

“Whatever I say next, are you going to believe it?” You finished dumping in a couple of tiny creamer cups into your likely lukewarm coffee, and you took the styrofoam cup to-go. “Good luck with the freshmen.” 

You slid past him and left the teacher’s lounge. Your path took you, brusquely and irritated, back to your office. You couldn’t help but replay every bit of your interactions with Goldstein, and then Chris, in your mind like a bad movie. 

Jesus Christ. If I have to deal with one more idiotic man today, I swear—

Speak of the devil, and he appears.

There was a man leaning against your office door, his hands in the pocks of his jeans. He looked up at your approach, and he smiled. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

This time, you paused…and you smiled too. There he was in all his rugged glory. Russell Shaw. 

You dumped your coffee in a nearby trashcan and hastened over as quickly as you could in your skirt and heels. Russell bent down to sweep you up into his arms, and you leaned up on your toes so you could wrap yours around his shoulders. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar mix of his cologne and spicy soap. 

“Missed you too,” he said, a deep rumble. It washed over you pleasantly. 

“I thought you weren’t getting home until sometime next week,” you said, trying to work past the thick well of emotion in your throat. Maybe he heard it in your voice anyway, because Russell soothed a hand over your hair and pressed a kiss near your ear.

“Got finished up early,” he said, with that familiar grin of his. You could hear it in his voice.

You slipped your fingers through his long dark hair. Then you leaned back enough to see his face. 

“How’d you know I wasn’t in class?” you asked. 

He raised his hand off your back to point up at the sign on your door. It displayed your office hours and the times you were in class. He shot you a wink.

“I might’ve called Dory too,” he said. “She invited us over for dinner tonight. I said we’d be there around seven.”

You tsked and smack his chest, making him flinch. 

“Hey!” he protested with a laugh. 

“Don’t agree to stuff without me! Now we’re going to be out all night the day you get back,” you said in annoyance. 

Russell smoothed down your proverbial feathers, namely by slipping his hands down your back and comfortably settling on your waist. 

“Now, come on,” he cajoled. “Need I remind you that she’s my sister, and your best friend, by the way?”

You waved a playfully dismissive hand.

“I know damn well, but I’m also selfish,” you said. You gripped the edges of his familiar green jacket and tugged him closer again. “I want you all to myself tonight.” 

Russell’s grin kicked up into high gear. “Oh, yeah? What for?”

You smiled and leaned up on your toes again, your lips approaching his. 

“I’m gonna—”

“Hey, Professor!” 

Just then, one of your students walked by with a gaggle of her friends. She gave you a little wave, and then an amused look when she noted how you and Russell were intertwined. You quickly set your heels back on the ground and dropped your hands from him. 

“Oh shit. Prof’s got game,” one of her friends whispered. 

“Yeah, a lumberjack,” she replied. 

“Hell, I’d climb him.”

The girls giggled quietly as they continued to make their way down the hall. 

Your hand rose to cover your mouth while your face burned hot in embarrassment. Russell, damn him, was smirking like the Cheshire cat. You shot him a little glare. 

“Shut up,” you said. 

He chuckled, and he allowed you to take his hand and lead him into your office. He closed the door for you, but that was where the chivalry ended. 

He hooked his arm around your waist and brought you flush against him. A stunned yelp escaped you. You grabbed onto his arms on reflex, craning your face up to meet him. A smile played on your lips, before he captured them in a kiss filled with heat, and the torture of longing, only broken by your shared relief.  

You had the presence of mind to reach behind him and lock the door. Russell took that as an invitation to back you up against your desk, knocking down a carton of pens in his wake. You held his bearded face and gave him as much as he asked for. Until the pace of his kisses eventually slowed and warmed into something more tender, with the brush of his hand against your cheek. You smiled a little against his lips. 

He ended up being the first to pull away. His thumb brushed your chin next, and then your thoroughly kissed bottom lip. 

“God, I missed you,” he said. You saw the sincerity in his eyes, all the heat and play and teasing aside.

“Me too, baby,” you replied, and your voice was heavy with the truth of it. You slid your hands down his arms. Suddenly you remembered your internal checklist for whenever he came home. “You okay? No hospital stays or checkups needed?”

Your hands continued their perusal over his chest and down his sides. Russell took your hands and un-busied them. 

“Completely fine. Everything went off without a hitch,” he said. 

You eyed him more warily. After a moment to try and discern if he was downplaying for your sake, you were able to take him at his word. For now. It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to hide an injury from you. You intended to complete a further examination later tonight. You smirked a little at the thought.

“Okay, I’ve just got one more class in a few minutes. Then I can get out of here,” you said.

“All right,” he nodded. “I’ll meet you at home then.”

Your smile turned cheeky. You flattened your palms down his chest, plucking at the edges of his jacket.  

“Yeah? You gonna be waiting pretty for me?” you teased. 

“You bet,” he agreed. He leaned in close to say lowly in your ear, “But not as pretty as you’re gonna be when I get you all laid out for me. Get myself reacquainted with every sweet part of you.”

“Oh, really?” you said, trying to taper your blush. There was something entirely wrong and right about him talking dirty to you in your own office. You grinned as he began to press tantalizing kisses down your neck. “I guess I’m going to be the appetizer tonight.” 

His chuckle resounded in your ears. Russell squeezed your hips and brushed his lips against your skin. Damn him, he knew exactly what he was doing, making small volts of electricity zip down your spine. Warmth plumed between your legs as his beard gently rasped along your neck. 

“Sweetheart, you’re the whole damn meal,” he said, in that voice of his, smooth and baritone and perfect. 

Your blush intensified, even as your smile couldn’t help but brighten at his words. He nipped just under your ear, earning a stifled whimper from you.

“Are you trying to get us in trouble?” you whispered.

“Hey, I don’t work here,” he teased. His lips never left your skin. “I just reap the benefits.”

You fought against the urge to pinch his side. You grabbed your phone from your desk and checked the time. Shit. Almost 5:00 p.m.

All the while, Russell continued to torture you. His hands were no better than his mouth, caressing a path from your waist to your hips, then squeezing your ass as he pressed you more fully against him. He hummed against your neck.

“Oh, please don’t do this to me,” you whined, even as you clung to the front of his jacket and pressed your forehead into his shoulder. “I have to get to class in like, five minutes.” 

“I’ve accomplished quite a lot in five minutes,” Russell said. His nibbling along the shell of your ear was all too distracting as you laughed. 

“Oh, I know,” you dryly replied. “But if I let you get your hands on me now, I’m most certainly not going to be able to lecture on the ancient civilization of Mesopotamia.”

His smile grew. “I like it when you talk nerdy to me.”

Your laugh turned into a giggle. Still, your duty to your students won out. You had to press a gentle hand against his chest to push him back.

Russell let out a long-suffering groan, but he pulled away from you without losing his smile. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek. 

“I’ll see you at home,” he said. 

You agreed, though when he aimed to leave, you couldn’t resist the urge to smack his ass on his way out of your office. 

He stopped short and twisted back, pointing a knowing finger at you. 

“You don’t play fair, missy,” he said. 

You smirked and tossed a kiss at him.

“See you later,” you said.

You loved Dory. You really did. But after a day like today, you were happy to finally be home after dinner at your best friend’s house. You were happy to be where you were in this moment, lying in bed with Russell, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts as Speed played on the TV against the wall. 

“You didn’t leave me…I can’t believe it. You didn’t leave me,” you quoted along with Annie, Sandra Bullock’s character. 

“Didn’t have anywhere to be just then,” Jack (the beautiful Keanu Reeves) said on the screen. The couple shared a kiss, and you let out a happy hum, making Russell look down on you in bemusement. He had an arm wrapped around you as you laid tucked against his side.

“I have to warn you,” you said for Jack. “I’ve heard relationships based on intense experiences never work.” 

“Okay,” Annie (and you) replied. “We’ll have to base it on sex then.”

Jack smiled. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

As the movie came to an end, you sighed and lowered the volume as the credits rolled. 

“How’d you like it?” you asked.

“Was good! Even though my movie buddy decided to quote half the cast,” Russell quipped. He prodded at your side like a pianist playing a Mozart cantata, making you flinch with a squawk of laughter. You grabbed his hand to try and stop him. 

When he finally let up, you sighed and caught your breath, leaning against him again.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen that movie,” you said. “Practically any movie, for that matter.”

“Hey, I’ve seen stuff…it’s just, you know, we didn’t really have much access to pop culture growing up,” Russell said. 

You sobered up; you were reminded that he didn’t have a normal childhood, even less so than yours. 

“That’s okay,” you said, resting a comforting hand on his chest. “I’m gonna keep helping you catch up, long as you want me to.”

Russell smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate that.”

You closed your eyes in content. 

“So,” Russell said, interrupting your peace. You heard the mischief in his voice before he even said anything else. “Am I gonna have to knock this Beaufort guy on his ass, or you got that one covered, slugger?”

You huffed in amusement. 

“Belmont,” you corrected, opening your eyes again to shoot him a wry glance. “And there won’t be any ass-kicking needed on that one. Just a typical hard-headed man with a slighted ego.”

“Oof, cut him some slack, baby. You’re a hard one to let go of,” Russell teased. You smiled.

“Hey. Don’t butter me up unless you intend to do something about it.”

“Oh, my apologies,” he said. He turned over and waylaid you with kisses along your jaw, then down the column of your throat, and further still, until he met the edge of your shirt. You felt his hands move under the hem of it, slowly bunching up the material as they slid up your body.  

Your first coming together when you two got home tonight was fraught, and a bit wild—the kind that nearly broke your headboard (again). 

Now, Russell seemed to want to take his time. He guided your shirt up, inch by inch as his lips explored whatever small expanse he bared, from the soft skin of your stomach, to the swell of your breasts. He stopped there, laying a sweet kiss in between them. You watched him with deeper breaths, but you softened when he turned his smile up at you. You saw nothing but affection in his eyes. 

“You know, the best part of my day is coming home to you,” he said.

You had to blink past the sting in your eyes, and swallow past another lump of emotion in your throat as you reached down to caress his cheek.

The hardest part of mine is watching you leave.

But you didn’t dare say that. You just guided him back up to your lips, and met him with a heated kiss.

You were nearly asleep when Russell finally came back to bed, after double-checking that the house was all locked up. He installed a more sophisticated security system a few months ago. It made him feel slightly better about leaving you alone. 

He padded back over to the bed and joined you on his side. You rested your head on his shoulder again, and he slid an arm around your waist. 

“Charlie’s doing well in his program, huh?” Russell asked. 

You’d been talking about your brother with him and Dory at dinner. 

You nodded. “Looks like it… God, I’m so proud of him. He’s really worked hard.”

Russell hummed deeply. “Glad to hear it.”

You glanced up at him, for a moment admiring his profile. He looked down and met your gaze.

“How long are you going to be home?” you asked, because you couldn’t stop yourself.

When you and Russell first started dating, he tried staying at a motel for a few weeks. You eventually invited him to just stay with you when he was in town. It made it easier to spend more time with him, since you worked a full-time schedule anyway. It was nice to come home to him, when he was here. After the surprise wore off, however, the fear always returned.

When is he leaving next?

“I don’t have another job lined up just yet,” Russell admitted. “Wanna take a couple weeks off, since this one lasted so long. I’m sorry about that.”

You were glad to hear it, so you nodded, but you had a feeling your true thoughts weren’t as well hidden as you intended. Russell searched your face.

“How’re you doing with all this?” he asked.

Your heart seized up, but you tried to play it off.

“What do you mean? We had some good food, good catching up on ‘90s movie magic, good making up for lost time,” you said playfully. You slid your leg across his lap. Russell welcomed you, drawing a hand up your thigh and under his shirt that once again hung loosely from your body. You had to reclaim it from somewhere between the sheets.

He still raised his brows at you. “You know what I mean.”

Slowly, your smile fell. Your gaze lowered. 

“Russ, I’m doing my best.”

“I know you are, sweetheart, and I appreciate that. You don’t know how much,” he said, stroking your back. “I just, uh…I know this is hard on you.”

He understood Tracy, Doug’s wife, even better now. He had been better able to sympathize with Doug too, because for the first time in his life, he had someone to come home to. Someone who was actually waiting on him to come home. It was a bigger responsibility than he thought it would be. 

You sighed. 

“Look, I’m not going to lie, this…it’s been hard as hell,” you began, closing your hand around his. “But I love you. I love you, and I still think we have a good thing here.”

That warmed him, reminded him why this was worth it. Russell nodded in agreement, and he crossed the few inches of distance that allowed him to kiss you, good and slow. 

“I love you too,” he admitted. He could count on half a hand the number of times that happened in his life, but even though it hadn’t been all that long…he thought you might be the one that finally stuck. 

Your pretty smile was just one piece of evidence. You gave that to him, and you reached up for a kiss. He obliged you in turn.  

“How about we put a timeframe on it then,” he said, after parting softly from you. 

You tilted your head in confusion, tinged with disbelief. “What?”

“How about you give me…’til the end of the year,” he said. “I know I’ve been taking a lot of jobs lately. It’s because I’m pretty close to my goal. I’ve almost got enough to find some good real estate and start working on that bar.”

Your drowsiness fell away completely as your excitement grew for him.

“Oh my God. Russ, that’s amazing!” 

Your support softened him that much more, deepening his smile. He framed your face with a hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Here’s a promise,” he said. “Six months, and no more missions. No more jobs. You’ll be stuck with me, so much that you’ll probably get sick of me.”

Your smile grew to radiant proportions.

“Hmm, maybe a little,” you teased, “but I’ll make that sacrifice.”

He grinned and drew you into another kiss. You paused, holding his bearded cheek. 

“Thank you,” you said. Russell shook his head.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he said. “You never gotta thank me for that.”

AN: Let me know if you enjoyed this little addition to ESC! 💜

Bonus Drabble:

After watching 2x02 yesterday, it gave me...feelings lol. So I ended up writing a new (very smutty) drabble to fill in a small gap in this one-shot! It's called More of This:

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs. (18+) 

▶️ Keep Reading: More of This

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[mymindisneverhere]

late night writes… punishment (pt. 1)

18+ SMUT 

pt. 2

Imagine… Terry orders you to keep quiet after constantly dealing with your smart mouth.

warning: bd/sm themes 

arms and legs restrained. knees bent, calves pressed against your thighs, each leg wrapped separately in rope to prevent you from moving them. your lower set of lips parted from the spread of your legs. arms tied behind your back, wrists pressed together as the rope did its job. flat on your back… head somewhat hanging off the bed.

he left you like this for a while, alone. to think about why you lost a few privileges, one of them; the privilege to move freely. 

so caught up in your temporary emotions, you’d move away from him whenever he’d reach for you as a way to express your anger without actually saying anything. your passive aggressive body language bringing his aggression to the forefront. 

finally returning back to the room after what felt like decades but had only been an hour. he stood in the doorway, knocking on the door frame to gain your attention. you turned your head to him, the only part of your body that went unrestrained. leaning against the frame, he asked you if you could tell him why you were being punished.

with his permission to speak, you finally answer, remorseful of course. grateful that you could finally say something. that was the second privilege you lost: the privilege to speak freely. 

you had been quite mouthy with him over the past few days, slick remarks and smart comments leaving your lips anytime he asked you a simple question. 

“what do you think?” had been your favorite response when he questioned you about your sudden change in attitude, when you could’ve just used your words to simply tell him what you wanted… more attention. 

so he decided to leave you alone all by yourself in silence; no music, no tv, nothing. you couldn’t even hear the sounds of him shuffling throughout your home. 

facetiming himself from the iPad in the room, monitoring you from another area in the house. you weren’t allowed to do so much as whisper to yourself or it would add onto the time you spent tied up and alone. 

walking over to the bed he bent down to take your clit into his mouth, making a smooching sound as he pulled away. the sudden encounter causing you to shudder from the feeling of his lips. 

your mind had been filled with so many different scenarios, you made yourself wet just by predicting what he’d do to you. and he knew how your mind liked to wander, that’s why he left you like this. 

he stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed. his eyes trailing over your body slowly as he made his way to the other side. finally reaching you, he stood over your head, staring down at you. 

‘he looks like a God from this view.’ you thought. 

placing his hands on the bed, both at your sides, he bent down to your stomach, the cold feeling of his chain against your belly sending chills up your body. he planted kisses against your skin, licking and sucking each spot he touched. 

his attempt at trying to soften you up before ruining you the way that he planned to. 

he kissed below your navel, between your thighs, right above your lips, exhaling harshly. the feeling of his breath brushing against your clit caused you to bite your lip, preventing yourself from making a sound.

he made his way to your nipples, hard and sensitive. pulling one into his mouth, rolling it in between his teeth, gradually tightening his bite. you turned your head to the side still fighting against your voice, it hurt so good. 

he did the same to your other nipple, biting and then tracing your areolas with his tongue. you lifted your back off of the bed as much as you could to feel more of him on your body. your hole closing around nothing as he continued toying with your breasts. 

‘just fuck me already’ 

you wouldn’t dare say it outloud though. because you’ve been deprived of touch for a few days and not allowed to speak since the start of today, you have a lot of pent up ‘energy’. but you knew better than to express it verbally at this moment. 

he stood up and stared down at you as he reached between your legs, taking note of how wet you were. that mind of yours was something powerful, he had to admit. running his fingers up and down to collect all of your essence on his fingers, he went two fingers deep in your slit. 

fingering you slowly, making sure to coat his fingers all the way up to his knuckles. he loved playing in your sex and you enjoyed it too but you knew eventually it would become too much to handle because this session was for learning purposes only. 

‘it feels so fucking good tho’ 

you naturally let your eyes roll into your head when you hear “eyes”, signaling your eyes to lock onto his. his eyes a bit dark and low as he dug deep into you. the more you focused on his gaze the deeper felt his fingers go, pulling them all the way out then pushing them all the way back in.  

shirtless. you could see the muscles in his chest flex as he pumped you at his own pace. “did you get your ounces like you’re supposed to?” referring to the amount of water you were supposed to drink on a regular basis, his orders. 

“yes daddy” was all you were allowed to say. your walls tightened around his fingers and your eyes began to roll again until you felt a firm hand right under your jaw, pinky grazing your chin. 

“eyes!”

your eyes followed suit and land on his again, his eyes never leaving yours. the longer you focused on his eyes, the more your inner focus went to the feeling between your legs. 

your breathing was deep and slow, matching the rhythm of his fingers. relaxing deeper into the mattress with each exhale. your eyes were still on his but your mind was solely on the pleasure.

a small smile crept on his lips as he noticed the look on your face, you were pleading with him as best as you could without vocalizing it. he enjoyed having you weak like this, the woeful expression on your face was so satisfying to look at. 

he sped up his pace, hitting your spot over and over again as he curled his fingers upward, not giving you enough time to react to each hit before feeling the next. 

relaxing all of the muscles in your body, you could feel a rush threatening to release and you refused to fight it. you couldn’t fight it anyway, he knew your body too well.

he sped up a bit more, still holding onto your gaze, daring you to make a sound. your mouth hung open as your eyebrows lifted in ecstasy.

“oh-“ escaped your lips before you could catch yourself, your eyes widened as the flood released from your body. you pushed all of your breath out as the juices rushed to leave your center. 

you watched his mouth form the words “don’t test me”, making you regret the sound you had made, it was an honest accident that you would still have to pay for. 

finally removing his fingers from your entrance, wrinkled from the time spent inside of you, he dragged them up to your clit that stung from arousal. using the slickness that had gathered on his fingers, they glided across your clit back forth, left to right, the slippery surface making it easy for him to toy with it. 

your body jerked against the restraints as he ran his hand back and forth, gently slapping your spot again and again. it wasn’t like you could do much moving anyway, the grip he had on your neck kept you in place for the most part. 

“say something.” he dared, his fingers still manipulating your clit. you inhaled deeply as you felt another orgasm creeping up on you. the feeling of his heavy hand providing you both pleasure and pain at the same levels. it was a lot to take but also too good to let go of. 

he stared down at you, one brow raised as he watched your lips, seeing it you’d test him further. you knew better tho. 

your legs shook, torso jumping as you let yourself get played with. thankfully your climax was right on schedule. the splashing sounds were the only noise in the room as his rhythm went uninterrupted. 

you bit down on your lip as you struggled to muffle your cries and keep your eyes open and on him. eyebrows curled in defeat as you looked up at him. he was staring into your soul.

your clit had grown so sensitive, too sensitive to be worked over like this but he didn’t care, that wasn’t his problem. 

finally letting up a bit, he slowly caressed your swollen button, allowing you a small window of time to regain your composure. his free hand left your neck and caressed your forehead that was beginning to bead with sweat. 

“good girl” he said, as he slid his hands back into your opening, curling his fingers upward once again, rolling his wrist a bit, his hands pushing back and forth faster than before. “i love playing in this shit”

he was torturing you solely for his own pleasures, barely allowing you time to come down from your last climax or the one before. back to back. 

his hands slid down your head and locked onto your hair, pulling your head back even further. your chest rose again as he worked to pull yet another release from you, his eyes focused on your center this time, waiting to watch it do its magic again. 

his eyes shined as he looked on in awe at how much of a mess you were making on his hands, taking all of the credit for your ruins. a large puddle formed beneath you on the king size comforter and it was your job to ensure it was cleaned properly after he was done with you. 

he stood so close to you, you could feel his hard dick against your face through his pants. you wanted so badly to feel it inside of you but you were in the middle of a teaching. 

getting what you wanted was at the bottom of tonight’s task list. you’d get there only if you earned it.

“shit here it comes” he announced, so in tune with your body and how it responded to certain rhythms and being touched in specific ways. feeling the pleasure built with each pump, your stomach was tightening as he pushed his fingers into you. 

he kept the pace, lifting your head to make you watch yourself squirt all over his hand. your face was riddled with sorrows and pleasures.

“beautiful” he said to himself. you were unsure if he was referring to you, your pussy, or both. 

he kept pumping and the juices kept flowing. your chin pressed into your chest as your vision blurred, a set of tears forming as he drained the rest of your fluids out of you in a different way. 

he pulled out of you and gave a few slaps to your clit, causing you to jerk each time his hand landed on it. pulling your head back onto the bed, he ran his drenched fingers over your lips. smearing your juices all over you before grabbing your jaw.

bringing his face down just a few inches from yours he stated “watch your mouth when you talk to me, understand?” 

“yes daddy.” you whimpered, staring into his eyes. “i’m sorry.” you spoke honestly, regretting the way you treated him up until today. his stern expression softened just a bit before returning to its usual state.

he kissed your lips and stood up to examine you from head to toe. he reached down and finally wiped the tears from your face as he let out a deep breath. 

he wanted so badly to finish you completely, no breaks but your slow blinking and semi-limp body let him know that you may need some time to reset. 

“make it up to me or do you need a break?” he stared down at you, thick eyebrows bent in genuine concern. 

“a break p-please.” you managed, swallowing the lump in your throat after finally being able to speak words other than the only ones he’d allow. 

he smirked to himself, loving the pitiful expression on your face as you looked up at him. 

“okay.” he walked out of the room, shortly returning with water for you. removing the ropes from your legs, he pulled them straight across the bed stretching them slowly. he left your wrists tied as he sat you up straight. 

tilting the straw forward, you took as many sips as desired before he pulled the glass back and placed it on the nightstand. he placed his hands in his pockets and stared down at your mascara stained face as you looked up at him. 

“you can rest for a bit, you’ll need it.”

with that he walked out of the room leaving you there alone once again with your thoughts. you sat there, yet again trying to predict what would be a part of this punishment next. 

you just hoped you’d be able to finally use your words… 

part two tomorrow night 🩵

[glitch-but-ya]

Remember me.

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

Tags: Angst, angst, angst, with no comfort, established relationship, pet names like 'sweetie' and 'kitten', descriptions of blood, gore, and death.

Summary: Sylus could not fathom the feeling of everything slipping from his fingers. He couldn’t comprehend how he had lost control so easily. He watched you take a devastating blow from a wanderer, helpless to reach you in time. His world crumbled before his eyes as you fell. In that moment, Sylus realized he had less control over fate than he had ever imagined. Though you had awoken from your injuries, the relief would not last, for he would soon be dragged back into a spiral of helplessness once more.

Word count: 2,281 words.

A/N: Feeling angsty lately hehehe

"And even in my dying breath, my only thoughts will be of you."

The blood wouldn't stop. It gushed out of the gigantic wound in your stomach ceaselessly, erupting with remarkable fervor. The blood continued to flow, slipping between Sylus's fingers as his hands latched onto your stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding. But it didn't work. Nothing did. And for the first time in his life, Sylus felt helpless.

He clenched his jaw, his teeth gritting. "Don't you dare die on me." You responded with a kind smile. Your hand reached out to caress the side of his face. "I won't make it, Sylus." You croaked out weakly. "Don't try to save a dying person."

He shook his head and curled his fists. "Don't speak nonsense. I'm not in the mood for jokes." And although his tone was harsh, his words held no bite. You knew that, of course. What part of him did you not know? Which part of him had you not learned by heart yet?

"Hold on to me," he said, guiding your hands to his neck. "I'll get us out of here, and you'll get better. I promise." "You won't die." he said firmly. You've never seen him so serious. Not with you, at least.

Sylus carried you back to his car. His arms supported your back as you hung limply from his neck. You used your last remaining strength to pry your eyes open and gaze back at the protofield. You hadn't yet processed how a normal mission could turn into an event that'd end up claiming your life. You were prepared for this, you told yourself. This is the unfair life a hunter must live. This is the sacrifice you must make for the sake of others. But now, being on the verge of death, you couldn't help but wish to live.

Your gaze drew back to Sylus. You observed his furrowed eyebrows, his sorrowful frown, and the panic etched across his face. You couldn't help but be grateful for him. To have a man like him was a blessing. He was kind to you. When you needed him, he was there. He had cradled you through the harshest nights and been by your side through happiness and sorrow. He was there, always. Even now, in death, he was by your side. It was by miracle that he happened to be in the same place, close enough to you to respond to your plea for help immediately.

You couldn't help but feel thankful for him. To have someone like him in your life was a blessing only you were lucky enough to receive. After his arrival, you had something to live for. Someone cared about you, someone worth living for. And, admittedly, you didn't want to let this privilege go. You loved him, and you knew for sure that he reciprocated. You wanted to be selfish. For once, you wanted to live.

"Sylus..." you wheezed. His gaze immediately shifted. His eyes locked onto yours, slightly narrowing in displeasure at your weak countenance. "Save your breath. No need to say anything." he looked away, almost as if he couldn't bear to see you in such a sorry state anymore.

You simpered at him lovingly. "Thank you," was all you said. Sylus did not respond for a while, his only response being a slight falter in his speed. "Don't get sentimental now," he looked away. But you could catch a glimpse of the slight tremble of his lips. It was the first time you'd seen him so vulnerable, almost on the verge of tears. And even now, he tried to be strong. He tried to conceal his sorrow, even though he knew he didn't need to. Not around you. And yet, he was so adamant on being your devout protector, he’d forgotten that he was allowed to feel. You wanted to press your lips against his, to hug him in your arms and tell him that he could stop now. That he didn't have to make such sacrifices for your sake, that he was allowed to cry if he wanted to.

But alas, your strength began to fail you. And slowly, you began to fade into a deep slumber, lulled by the warmth of his body pressing against yours. You could hear Sylus's voice calling out to you, begging you to stay with him. But you couldn't. A gentle breeze blew you away easily as if you were but a tiny fairy floating about freely in the land of purgatory. Your eyes fluttered shut, only eliciting more panicked noises from him. But they were all drowned by the welcoming darkness. And so, your eyes closed, but not for the last time.

It wouldn't be long before you'd realize that you'd survived. When you awoke, it was atop a familiar mattress as hard as stone. It was clear that someone had tucked you in gingerly, layering multiple soft blankets beneath you in a flimsy attempt at cushioning you. Despite Sylus's efforts, the rigidity and firmness of the mattress pressed against your back painfully, leaving you with a sore back. Even with the lack of effectiveness in his approach, you found Sylus's attempt oddly endearing. You giggled internally, picturing a worried Sylus hurriedly skittering about and fussing over your makeshift bed.

Your carefreeness was cut off the moment you opened your mouth to speak. You felt a lump in your throat that felt as if it bobbled each time you gulped. On top of that, your throat was dry, and your voice low and hoarse. You quickly realized that you had not the strength to even lift your arm off the bed, let alone get up and call for help. You didn't know where Sylus was. All you could do was wait until he showed up eventually, which didn't take long.

"Sweetie," his pupils contracted subtly. You couldn't tell if it was a response brought about by relief or shock, or both. Were you not supposed to wake up so soon?

Dropping the towels by your bed, Sylus fixed his composure and rushed to your side, taking your arm in his. "How are you feeling?" "Horrible." you croaked out with a small laugh. "I feel like I'm gonna die," you said, but the joke didn't seem to sit right with Sylus, on whose forehead a crinkle had formed. He made it very clear that he did not find it funny.

Changing the topic, you let out a hum. "How long has it been?" "A week." You nearly choked on your own spit, but said nothing in response. You didn't have the energy to. Sylus caressed your hand thoroughly, his eyes slightly narrowing as he felt your skin. But you couldn't tell why. "We didn't know if you were going to, well... do you remember what happened?" You placed your finger on your lip, humming in thought, before nodding weakly. "You got discharged yesterday. I guess you're really taking a turn for the better, huh?" And yet, as he spoke, he did not smile. He only inspected your hand further, running his fingers over the bumps of your knuckles, and tenderly tracing the skin of your palm. "...Did you always have cold hands, sweetie?"

You only responded by pointing to the jug of water on the large, ebony nightstand. Following your request, Sylus grabs the jug and pours you a glass of water. "Here, I'll help you." he helps you sit up and brings the glass to your lips. Only for you to begin choking on the water as you drank. Sylus patted your back reassuringly. "You've been quite... breathless, haven't you? Your breathing is faster, and so is your heart rate." He placed his hand on his chin and thought. "Your face is pale, your hands are cold. And—are you listening?"

You stared at him before flashing him with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, can you repeat?" He let out a sigh. "I'm calling a doctor over. You're displaying abnormal symptoms." Your hands began to tremble uncontrollably as you passed him the glass. "Doctor? I feel fine." You waved your hand dismissively. "You're overreacting. I woke up, didn't I? It means I'm getting better." Sylus shook his head. "Right. And that also means it's time for a checkup. Don't resist, sweetie. You're not escaping this one." Although he tried to mask it, you could sense an underlying fear in his tone. You didn't know why. You truly did feel fine.

"He'll be here in a few hours. The snowfall's heavy tonight. It'll take a while." He pulled the covers over you and nuzzled your face. "Until then, rest." With that, he left the room.

A few hours had gone by, and your condition only worsened. Your skin grew colder, and your heart began to beat at a rapid rate. To add to Sylus's concern, your behavior and mental state began to worsen as well. When he'd ask you something, you'd stare at him for a good 30 seconds before smiling, "Sorry, could you repeat that?"

Eventually, your bandages began to bleed once more, and you felt as if you were rendered completely senile, like a sickly old man spending his last moments on his deathbed. You managed to squeeze out your dying voice to ask Sylus to change them. He gently propped you up, pulling off your shirt before carefully unwrapping the bandages around your chest.

"Sylus..." "Didn't I tell you to save your energy?" he scolded softly. "The doctor will be here in an hour." He pressed the back of his palm against your forehead. "Cold. Don't worry, I'll patch you up and tuck you back in." Suddenly, you grasped his hand weakly. He didn't have the heart nor intention to shake you off. "Thank you." Your gaze did not meet his.

Sylus tilted his head back and smirked lightly. "What, are we feeling affectionate now too?" It seemed as if he was trying to swallow the ache of his heart. You shook your head, your eyes glued to your lap. "I'm sorry. I'm so much trouble." Fresh tears began to slip from the corners of your eyes, only to be swept up by Sylus's hand before they could reach your chin. "I was weak. I know I've failed everyone."

"Sweetie..." his hand met your cheek, his thumb flicking off the crystalline beads rolling down your face. "I never saw you as a burden. The strength needed to withstand such a blow... your dodge was incredible, kitten." His other hand shot up to ruffle your hair. "Even I would have a hard time. You did well. I'm proud of you."

You let out a muffled sob. "Will you remember me, Sylus?" His gaze softened. He could reassure you that you wouldn't be leaving his side anytime soon and that there was no reason for him to have to remember you, but he knew that wasn't what you wanted to hear. "You're quite hard to forget, if I'm being honest. Even if we are worlds apart, you will linger in my memories eternally, shining like the most priceless gem not even the God of wealth could lay their eyes on." He gazed upon your face, taking in the sight of your drooping eyelids, inflamed nose, chapped lips, and pale visage with a wince. "We are bound by much more than a simple promise. What we have will never be replaced." His eyes met yours. "I could never forget you, even if I wanted to."

Your shoulders slackened almost as if you'd let go, your soul finally able to rest now that you'd heard him say it with his own lips. "I love you, Sylus," you confirmed. He traced his thumb over your bottom lip. "I love you too." Sylus slipped the shirt back onto your body and pushed you into the covers. "Sleep," he said, picking up the clutter. Before he left, he turned to you and looked at you one last time. "When you're better, I'll take you to a meadow for a nice picnic under the warm sun." His gaze trembled, and he swallowed the melancholy beginning to invade his voice. "I know a place. A vast field of anemones and other flowers. The breeze there is cool and constant. It's a place humanity is yet to reach, untainted by the spoils of mankind." He approached you, slipping his fingers in between your own. "When you're better, I'll take you there." He flashed you the warmest smile he could muster, even in his state of despair.

His heart nearly broke as you so innocently smiled back at him. "I see. Thank you, Sylus. It sounds nice indeed." You brought his hand to your face and nuzzled against it. "May we cross the fields together one day."

"Go now. I'm sleepy." You began pushing him away, ushering him out of your bed. Once he was a good distance away, you sank into your bedsheets and turned your back on him. "Goodnight, Sylus. I love you." And so, you went to sleep.

You did not wake up the next day. So he waited. Although Sylus knew you wouldn't last the moment you'd displayed the symptoms. He'd seen death; he'd known it half his life. He could tell when a man was about to die from a distance. And yet, with you, he couldn't bring himself to accept it.

And so, he waited again. For you to wake up. For you to return to him once more. He would wait until the heat death of the universe, if he must, just to reunite with you, his beloved, his lover. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing. He'd lost you again. And this time, it was his beloved who was gone.

[hey-august]

DP December 🐊🎪

Listen, let's see if I can crank out a few of these so I can justify calling this "Double Penetration December."

Ideally, I'll be able to post all 4 ideas I have. Well, 3 more after this one!

WC: ~1k

Warnings: NSFW, Sir Crocodile x afab!Reader x Buggy, tbh it's primarily Sir Crocodile x afab!Reader (you'll see), double penetration - vaginal and anal sex, Buggy objectification lol, "little one" as a nickname for Reader, misuse of devil fruit powers - ty chop chop fruit, creampie, vaginal fingering, profanity

Crocodile groaned, his hunger and need rumbling deep within his chest. Your body struggled to accommodate his girth. With half breaths collecting in your throat, you closed your eyes and urged your body to just relax. 

Normally, it wouldn’t be this much of a struggle. Your thighs were wet and there was no doubt that the paperwork you were sitting on was ruined. And yet, Sir Crocodile’s blunt tip was making slow progress stretching you out.

“Harder,” you croaked, “please, just push.”

Your plea was met with a chuckle. “I don’t want to break you.”

“Liar,” you hissed, frustration and desperation falling from your tongue.

Opening your eyes, you looked up at the large man between your legs. Despite the sweat starting to bead on his forehead and his shirt and vest fully unbuttoned, he looked much more composed than you. Then again, there you were on his desk and soaking his papers. WIth legs spread wide and panties dangling from your ankle like a flag of surrender, you were practically begging for him to sink to your level.

Another laugh. Rich and deep, like his favorite cigars. “You’re right.” Crocodile rocked his hips slowly, not going any further than he already reached. “Tell me, little one, how does it feel?”

“Full, but I need you. Please!”

“How does he feel?” he asked next. “I can already feel that thing twitching in you. Has it been like this the whole time?” Crocodile’s bared his teeth in a knowing grin.

You shook your head. “N-no, only when-”

“When I started fucking you?”

You nodded. 

“He’s pathetic,” Crocodile drawled, irritation momentarily overriding lust. With one large, rough hand under your knee, he pushed your leg back more and leaned into your body.

His cock head finally slipped into your cunt deeper, bursting its way forwards and claiming what little space your body had left to offer. The intrusion pushed against the object that was embedded in your ass and had blocked the other man from entering smoothly. One that was still twitching and leaking precum.

Elsewhere, Buggy the Clown was probably doubled over and groaning, his stomach full of knots and regret at getting himself in this position. How was he supposed to know that bananawanis shouldn’t be fed table scraps? And to lose dick privileges over that… 

Buggy was in agony. His favorite appendage had been assigned to suffer in your delicious heat with no friction to bring either of you pleasure. And now, it felt like he was being squeezed. Flattened. Choked. Crushed in a vice.

Crocodile was hung like those damn reptiles he obsesses over. Buggy groaned again, glad to be in his room. No amount of pillow-humping had helped yet, but maybe it would if he imagined what your sweet body was going through.

You were full.

So fucking full. With each thrust, Crocodile’s thick cock reclaimed it’s rightful space. A thin wall kept it from touching the clown’s dick, letting them feel each other while you were lost to the sensations. Everything blurred. Each touch, each movement, everything you felt - you couldn’t separate yourself from the bliss of having two holes filled.

Buggy’s attendance was just to be a stationary accessory, but you felt it throb and twitch. And so did Crocodile. Your eyes would flutter and Crocodile grunted with each thrashing movement from the organic toy.

“Fuck, he’s always doing too much,” Crocodile huffed under his breath. 

An immense pressure was building. You weren’t sure how much was from your body clenching down on the two men, or how much was from their own eagerness. A small part of you wondered if you’d be the one to break Crocodile instead. If your hungry cunt could overpower the former warlord.

The thought was pounded away. As tight as you felt, he continued to move in and out effortlessly. Crocodile pulled back until the flared tip threatened to pop out, and slid in until his pelvis met yours. His trimmed curls were wet, slicked down from your arousal.

Finally, it felt like Crocodile was a degenerate like you. Strands of hair fell forwards, dangling and dancing. A drop of sweat fell from a piece that was too waterlogged to hold anymore. He flicked his head, trying to swing the renegade strands back into place. It was a small, effortless action, and it was enough to do you in.

Well, it did Buggy in first. 

Whatever reaction your body had to that handsome view had triggered the clown’s cannon. The pressure you felt had exploded, and now it was undoubtedly pulsing cum deep inside you.

Sir Crocodile’s eyes flashed. “Did he- That fuck,” he rumbled before biting his lip and stopping any other words. 

The pace increased. His cock bullying itself against Buggy’s, punishing it into oversensitivity and bringing you to the edge. You held a silent scream in your mouth as you fell over the precipice. Your body wasn’t yours. Your mind wasn’t yours. Any thoughts were fleeting, except for appreciation of the bliss that you were graciously filled with until you overflowed.

Crocodile’s high came in the midst of yours. He strained to keep going, not yet ready to be done and regretting each shot he deposited in your cunt.

That is, until he pulled out. You shivered, first at the emptiness he left, then at the cum that dribbled out. Crocodile hummed, pleased with the sight.

A thick finger scooped up the escaping liquid and pushed it back in. You were so warm and wet, the plush walls hugging his finger, as though he didn’t just ravage and abuse them. Pumping his finger in and out, Crocodile pushed along the half-hard cock on the other side of the thin wall. That ridiculous fool was probably crying somewhere.

“Mmh…”

Your soft sound brought Crocodile’s attention back to this room. Back to you. He leaned forwards and pressed his lips against your forehead. The smell of smoke and musk enveloped you. 

“Good job, little one,” he said against your damp skin. 

Crocodile pressed his thumb against your clit. He buried his nose in your hair and breathed in deeply while drawing out another climax from your body. Your moans, the salt on your skin, the feel of his cum mixing with your own, the smell of your lust and exhaustion - all of it was for him and him alone.

You whimpered and Crocodile had second thoughts. He growled, feeling the hold your body had on his finger increase. Actually, the pressure was coming from something else.

“That fucking clown…”

[arc-misadventures]

So I was re-reading Friends AU just for the kick in the teeth and I'd love to see more positive Jaune/Winter friendships (despite the birthday incident)

A Game of Chess

Jaune: The first move is yours.

Winter smiled as she sat down, and moved a kings pawn forward. She watched, Jaune's 'acquaintances' run off to grab a hotdog, effortlessly abandoning their 'friend' like useless trash. Winter had long since started to understand why, Jaune had long since stopped seeing, if ever seeing these people as his 'friends.'

But, that... they did not matter now. All that mattered right now was this game of chess, and spending time with, Jaune.

Winter: Tell me, have you really been here all day, Jaune.

Jaune: Yes...

Winter: All alone?

Winter watched carefully as his eyes nervously darted to the side before return to address, Winter.

Jaune: A-All alone... Everyone was gone playing, hide, and go seek... so...

Winter: I see. So you were here all alone, just playing chess?

Jaune: Not all the time... Sometimes I just reset the chess board, and stare at it for a while.

Winter: Why?

Jaune moves a queens knight onto the field as his mind planned for the hundredth move that could be made.

Jaune: Setting up the board... I find it to be... calming. Everything in it's place, everything is peaceful. Back at home I would pullout my chess set, and set it up, not to play a game, just set it up, and I feel calm.

Winter: Because it's calming...

Winter took in his words with a hint of sorrow in her voice. To find peace in something so simple sounded like a luxury to her.

Jaune: Is something wrong?

Winter: Oh, it's just sounds nice to simply set up a board game, and to feel an air of calmness to yourself. I never had such a privilege with my father constantly harassing me for one thing, or another. But, maybe now things will change...

Winter moved another queens pawn forward, before turning to look at, Jaune giving her a question gaze.

Winter: What?

Jaune: What do you mean by that; 'Maybe now?" Did something happen?

Winter: Oh yes, you have been here all day so you wouldn't know... My father, Jacques Schnee... He's dead.

Jaune's eyes blinked for a moment, before his head cocked to the side as a confused grunt escaped his lips.

Jaune: Huh?

Winter: Jacques Schnee is dead. He was murdered in the panic room in homes mansion.

Jaune: In the panic room; How?

Jaune moved his queens knight forward taking, Winter's pawn putting her in a precarious position.

Winter: That's the million Lien question... I have a few theories myself, but those theories are worthless without any more information on how he died. Well, how they got into the panic room; a slit throat doesn't need an explanation.

Jaune: Well... I'm sorry...?

Winter made her move before turning to look at, Jaune.

Winter: Are you asking that as a question?

Jaune: Well... He's your dad, and he's dead. But, it's, Jacques Schnee. So...?

Winter leaned back in her stool, as she looked towards the sky, deep in thought.

Winter: Ohhh... My father... Jacques Schnee has been murdered... How could someone do this...?!

Winter drops her face in her hand, and 'cries' at the lost of her father. She opens her fingers to peak at, Jaune's reaction. Or, more accurately, lack of emotion.

Winter: Unconvincing?

Jaune: Were you ever convinced when your father said: 'I love you?'

Jaune moved another pawn freeing one of his rooks.

Winter: Ohhh... how rude.

Winter smiled as she move another pawn freeing up her queen.

Winter: It is as you say, he may be my father, but it was, Jacques Schnee. That bastard would do anything for a Lien. He even tried to sell me off to gain a foothold in another company.

Jaune: Wait, seriously?

Jaune paused as he took in, Winter's words before moving his rook forward.

Jaune: Are you being serious? Cause, I can't tell if you're just exaggerating, or being serious, because it sounds like something he would do.

Winter: He tried to marry me off to men twice my age. When I was ten!

Jaune: Oh gods...

Winter: Mother put an end to those attempts, and said I couldn't do it until I was at least of marriageable age. The next time it happened though, I thought she would stop him, but she had succumbed to the bottle at the time. I could at least dodge his prodding, when I enlisted into the military.

Jaune: But, she still protected you.

Winter: How?

Winter asked as her pawn took, Jaune's knight.

Jaune: You weren't old enough that you could protect yourself from his scheming's. Willow... Ahem... Mrs... Miss, Schnee bought you time. Time for you to grow to become strong enough to protect yourself.

Jaune made this observation as she moved his rook to the middle of the board.

Winter's body stopped as she was about to touch her queen before she leaned back to lean, and stared wide eyed at, Jaune.

Winter: She did protect me...? How?

Jaune: There are three ways to protect a person: You give them a shield to protect themselves from harm. You give them a blade to fight back from those that would harm you. Or, you give them a cloak to hide them from harm. Your mom couldn't give a sword, or a shield, so she gave you a cloak to hide yourself long enough so that you could acquire your own sword, and shield.

Jaune: Your mother gave you a cloak which gave you time; Time to learn, time to grow, time that made it so you were able protect yourself, Much needed time so you would no longer need her cloak to hide yourself from his dealings.

Winter: She gave me her cloak... I.. I never saw it that way. But, why didn't she protect, Weiss as well? She could have protected her as well.

Jaune: Where was, Willow's shield? Where was her blade? And, where was , Willow's cloak? Who was protecting her, while she was protecting you?

Winter: Oh...

Winter: Mother had to deal with the brunt of, Jacques's abuse head on, while she protected me, and Weiss as best she could. No wonder she fled to the bottom of a bottle.

Winter made her next move, and put her queen into the field.

Winter: It seems I need to apologize to my mother. There are many things I did not understand... Well, at least with, Jacques dead mother may stop drinking.

Jaune: Hopefully, it's not easy breaking an addiction.

Winter: I'll make sure she does, I promise.

Jaune: Good.

Jaune moves his kings pawn forward, putting it in a rather odd location which gave, Winter pause.

Winter: Hmmm...? What are you planning...?

Jaune: A shopping list.

Winter: A-A shopping list?

Jaune: Yeah, I took a mission slay a, Karniviar. It's a bit out of the ways, so I'll need so stock up on some supplies before I got to hunt it down.

Winter: A Karniviar; Is that a type of, Grimm?

Winter asked as she moved her queens bishop to protect her queen while, Jaune pulls out his scroll, and shows, Winter a picture of the, Grimm he was going to hunt.

Winter: Oh... I have never seen this kind of, Grimm before...

Jaune: It's a rare species of, Grimm. Researcher's are not sure what class the, Karniviar fits into. Most people think it's one of the reclusive types, that hid in the wilderness until it grows big enough to cause mayhem.

Winter: I see... That's quite a lot of bone plating... It will be quite difficult for your team to punch through that.

Jaune: Nahh... I'm more concerned with that tail flailing about then how thick it's bone plating is. There are plenty of chinks in it's armour to exploit. I shouldn't have a hard time dealing with it. Checkmate.

Winter's mind stopped when he said that. She became as stiff as a statue as her mind slowly rebooted.

Winter: W-When did your bishop get there? No wait, 'I?' Are you going to deal with that, Grimm all on your own?!

Jaune: I'll explain how I won first: You were focusing on the fact I haven't moved my queen, thinking that my plan was to move my other pieces into the perfect position so I could suddenly use my queen, and go for the kill. When in actuality the plan was to make you think I had some sort of grand plan with my queen in mind, when I never had any intention of using her, and was instead focusing on getting my other pieces into the perfect position. And, then go for the kill.

Winter: You came up with a strategy where the entire plan was to make me think you were going to move one piece, and you never planned to touched that one piece.

Jaune: Yep.

Winter: ...

Winter: That... That is a terrifying strategy. Less so than the fact that was your plan, but more so that you actually did it, and I never saw it coming until it was too late.

Jaune: Thank you.

Winter: Your welcome. Now, what's this bit about you taking on this, Karniviar all on your own?

Jaune: Why I took the mission, or why am I doing this all on my own?

Winter: Are they not related?

Jaune: Somewhat. I never heard of a, Karniviar before so I did some research on it. It's armour platting that requires high caliber AP rounds to pierce. It's claws posse the capabilities to tear through one inch of solid steel,. It possess a bight force of an estimated 20,000 psi. And, while it tail spike can pierce through an, Atlasian Knight with ease. All in all it is considered on it's own a, C Class threat. It was a, C Class level threat when I selected it from the mission listing. This one however, should have been classified as a, B Class threat, possibly even an A Class threat due to its location.

Winter: It's location? Where is it located?

Jaune: Near where the, Karniviar was seen, is atown called, Breakers Peak. A fishing town that supplies fifty to sixty precent of, Atlas's raw fish, which counts for approximately thirty percent of Atlas, and Mantles overall food supply.

Jaune: If the, Grimm attacks this town, and even destroys part of the town, just a small section of the town it could have massive repercussions towards their food production. If this happens it would affect, Atlas's, and Mantle's food supply, even if thirty percent is knocked down to ten percent it will still affect everything as well. The price of fish go up, and then any ingredients involved with cooking fish goes up; cooking oil, flour, eggs, their price goes up as well. And, if the price of food goes up people get worried, and if the people get worried...

Winter: The Grimm get rowdy.

Jaune: Correct.

Winter let loose a tired sigh as she face rubbed her face. Her mind was running wild at how a single, Grimm, which would be seen as a minor nuisance, could possibly lead to a total upheaval of, Atlas, and Mantle if not dealt with. Expeditiously.

Winter: When did you think of.. all of this?

Jaune: I did some research of the, Karniviar as I said, after that I did some research of the area it is was spotted in.

Winter: And, then you learned about, Breakers Peak, and studied up on the town. Learning about how they are a fishing village, and how much fish they precure for, Atlas, and Mantle. And, if this particular, Grimm attack the town.

Jaune: The ramifications could be dire. The towns defenses' are decent enough to deal with, Sabyr class, Grimm attacks. But, I doubt they would survive an attack with from this, Karniviar. Not to mention if one, Grimm such as this one attacks the town, more could soon follow.

Jaune: So, I consider this to be an, B Class threat at least, that should be dealt with as soon as possible.

Winter: All on your own?

A weak smile spread across, Jaune's face as he looked away. Before looking at, Winter with a tired, and sad look in her eyes.

Jaune: I asked if anyone would join me...

Winter: And, what did they say?

Jaune: They never got back to me...

Winter: Ahh, so you're taking this alone because no one said... anything?

Jaune: Pretty much. But, I felt that this mission should be done, even if its all on my own.

Winter: I see... Very well then. When do we leave?

Jaune: ...?

Jaune: Beg my pardon... But, did you say, 'We?'

A coy smirk spread across her face as stared, Jaune down.

Winter: I won't let you take this creature all on you own, Jaune. Besides, after you thoroughly defeated me in this game of chess, I'm curious to see what kind of strategy you would come up to deal with it. So, what do you say, Jaune, ready to go, Grimm hunting?

Jaune returned her smirk with one of his own.

Jaune: Tomorrow morning, so you better get ready to leave first thing in the morning. Okay?

Winter: Alright, I'll meet you at the landing pads around, 0800 hrs.

Jaune: I'll see you then, Winter. In the meantime I am quite hungry... w-would you care to join me for a meal? We can discuss more about the mission there.

Winter: I... I would like that...

Jaune: That's great... Uhhh... I know several nice dinners around here... Is there anything in particular you would be interested in eating?

Winter smiled as she gave him a cheeky look.

Winter: You know... I suddenly have an odd craving for fish.

Jaune returned her cheeky smile with one of his own.

Jaune: You don't say...? Well, I know this really great place that serves the best fish 'an chips. Care to join me?

Winter: You know... I never had fish, and chips before.

Jaune: Oh? Well then, let's go fix that then, shall we?

Winter: Lets.

[russellsppttemplates]

She fits right in (Oscar Piastri)

You meet Oscar's family back home

Note: english is not my first language. I know I said write based on the order you send them in, but this one got priority for obvious reasons! 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"How long is the layover?", you asked Oscar as you put your backpack on properly once you took off your cardigan since you felt quite hot, "three hours", he replied, "we can go to the lounge and have some food first, freshen up", he suggested.

"Uuuuhh, freshening up in a public bathroom before I meet your parents in your childhood home, charming - you didn't have to make it so easy for me, Osc", you offered, going up to him so he could lace your hand in his and guide you through the airport.

Even you though you had travelled to see a couple of races from the garage, you had always kept inside Europe so long hail flights like this weren't something you were used to. You felt tired, sweaty, a little bit dirty from touching things everywhere and overall not that great. Still, it was a privilege to feel like this because of the reasons you did.

You found yourselves a table and made your order, Oscar staying there while you freshened up in the bathroom. Baby wipes, deodorant, brushing your teeth and washing your face would have to do for now.

"Do you feel a little more human?", he asked you once you sat back down, kissing his cheek soflty as he forwarded you your iced latte.

"Yes, actually I do", you snickered, taking a sip before speaking again, "are you sure your parents are fine with this whole arrangement?", you wondered.

"They're fine with it, you shouldn't be nervous, they already like you", he reassured. You had met his parents briefly when they travelled to see him race in Silverstone, but with the whole event taking up the schedule, you got to know eachother on a somewhat superficial level. Still, if the first impression was that good, it was a nice start.

"I'm not nervous nervous - at least not in the way I think I'd be, but is probably the jet lag and my body can't afford to have a freak out right now", you joked.

The last flight was spent with you sleeping on Oscar, arm rest up while you were cuddled up to his side, head nuzzled on his neck while he watched something to keep himself entertained and not get lost on his thoughts.

His family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous to truly hear it. Not because of you - he was sure you were going to do brilliantly, but it wouldn't be the first time in history where seeing things up close, whether it was the lifestyle associated or being faced with what staying in a relationship looked like in the long run, made people leave. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, the neighbour he knew growing up. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.

Rubbing your cheek softly, Oscar coaxed you out of sleep, "we're about to land, gorgeous, you might want to pop your ears", he muttered as you blinked your eyes open, kissing his palm before sitting up straight, doing as he told you before you fixed your hair, "do I look nice enough?", you wondered.

"You always look gorgeous", he assured, kissing your cheek softly.

You boarded off the plane and walked to the customs service, "they're quite quick at this time of year since a lot of people travel foe the race", Oscar explained as you were quickly checked before you walked to baggage claim, getting your suitcases and stopping twice to take photos Oscar's fans asked once they noticed it was him, "we're counting on a good race for you!", they wished as you smiled, handing them the phone back and waving once you walked to the spot Chris said him and Nicole would be waiting for you in the parking lot.

"How was your flight, dears?", Nicole was the first to speak as she embraced her son, followed by Chris.

"It was good, didn't have much turbulence", Oscar said as he saw your mother engulf you in a hug.

"It was nice, yes", you smiled, "very tiring getting to the land down under, I have to admit", you chuckled.

"Oh, that it is! Last time we did it, I felt so dirty I immediately went to the bathroom to shower once we got home", she giggled.

"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had arrived at early hours in the morning already and you shouldn't make much noise to the people who wanted to sleep.

"Of course it's fine! C'mon, let's pack the car and head home!", Chris encouraged you as he put the luggage on the car trunk while you got inside the car.

By the time you got home, Nicole encouraged you to head straight for the shower you so much needed while Oscar got something to eat. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, your boyfriend was unpacking his own suitcase.

"If you don't mind, I'll unpack those tomorrow? Or in the morning? What time is it already?", you muttered as he had closed the blinds, leaving the room completely dark with only the bedside lamp on.

"It's fine, love", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "you smell nice", he chuckled, squeezing your waist softly before he went to have a shower.

Maybe it wasn't the most polite, but this was going to be your room for the next couple of days considering you had flown in early so Oscar could spend as much time as he could with his family, so you undid the bed. The fresh sheets enveloped you as you tied your hair in a messy bun just to get it away from your eyes.

The last thing you remember coherently is Oscar laying next to you, pulling you to cuddle up to him and kissing your forehead sweetly with a "Goodnight, my love".

You woke up a few hours later, looking at your watch and see that it was already past midday and you were in bed, "morning", you heard Oscar's groggy morning voice whisper into your back, littering kisses on your shoulders.

"Hey", you smiled, turning around and seeing his handsome smiley face, "it's the afternoon already", you pointed out.

"It usually is when I wake up after coming back home", he shrugged his shoulders, "my parents are used to it. Also, they said they'd be having lunch at my grandma's, so they're not home - it's probably why it's so quiet".

"Do they want us to meet them there?", you wondered, not wanting to part your boyfriend from his family.

"We can if you don't mind", he added, "you could meet my grandma, too!", he tried to see if you felt comfortable with it.

"Yes! Let me just get ready quickly!", you smiled, pecking his lips and leaving the bed.

"Why so excited?", Oscar asked as you were leaving his parents' house after having something quick to eat and you got your latte.

"You have told me many stories from your grandma and grandma's house is always the best!", you winked at him before you wiggled your brows.

"What do you mean it's always the best?", he quirked a brow.

"Grandma's are the ones who have the best photo collections in the family - C'mon Oscar, it's going to be so fun!", you joined your hands together in a cartoon villain like way, fingertips touching as you made a mischief expression.

"Did Lando set you up for this?", Oscar said as he unlocked the car.

"Yes! The more I get, the more Quadrant hoodies he says he'll get me!", you winked, pulling his arm to the car so he could drive you both to his grandparents' house.

"Can we come in?", Oscar announced as you both walked in through the back door, seeing his parents sat at the table while an older lady was doing something at the kitchen counter.

"Oscar, my love!", she yelled, wiping her hands on the nearest kitchen towell before she threw herself at her grandson, hugging him tightly while you greeted Oscar's parents briefly.

"And this is the young woman who stole Oscar's heart, how are you, sweetheart? You're very welcomed here!", she said, pulling you in for a tight hug immediately.

"I'm Y/N, thank you for welcoming me into your home, it's beautiful", you smiled warmly.

"Have you two had something to eat? I can make you something quickly if you'd like!", she asked and you both shook your head, "I'm good, but thank you".

"I was actually getting ready to make some Lamingtons and some Rum Balls, too. Y/N, has Oscar ever baked them for you?", she mused.

"No, I don't think he has", you looked at him for confirmation as he shook his head, blush erupting on his cheeks, "I would never make them as good as yours!", he defended himself.

"Well, darling, I'm going to make some for you too then!", she smiled.

"I'd love to help if you want a hand, maybe then I'll pester Oscar to make them for me back home", you smiled.

"Oh, good! Let's get started then!", she exclaimed, getting you an apron and guiding you through the recipe.

"You can beat these while I measure the flower", she delegated, "it has to be very fluffy so the sponge is firm enough", she advised as you beat the contents inside the bowl.

"How is that going?", Oscar asked coming up from behind you as you were transferring the batter to the lined tin.

"I need to use the bathroom, dear, but when you finish that, can you put it in the oven and take the other one, please?", she questioned, "this way we'll have a new batch to work with everytime", she smiled before excusing herself.

"How is she really doing with you?", your boyfriend waited for a honest answer.

"It's been really fun, truly! She's been telling me stories about when she was younger and what growing up here was like, she fed me some of those things, those rolled up things", you pointed at the plate on the counter.

"Those are rum balls! Love, you don't even like rum!", he pinched your cheek before you out the tray in the oven.

"I wasn't going to break her heart and tell her no, and they're not that bad! Just not my favourite things ever!", you reasoned with him, wiping your hands on the kitchen towell, "but it's been good, she's very lovely - and I am this close at getting to your baby stories", you pinched your thumb and poster finger together.

"You're impossible", he chuckled, stealing a kiss from your lips before his grandma got back.

"She's a lovely girl, Oscar", his mother said as she sat down next to him on the chair on the decking outside as they saw his father gather the supplies for a barbecue. His grandmother suggested and afternoon barbecue for when you were done with baking.

"I'm very happy I brought her home to meet everyone", Oscar smiled, "she's really one of a kind".

"Is she dealing well with all of this? I'm sure she's not used to it", Nicole wondered, "people taking pictures, interrupting your day to day lives, you're not always there for her", she trailed off.

"Well, neither am I, right?", Oscar chuckled, "I think she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. We don't post eachother much, that's been helpful, and she has all her social media private".

"It's nice, she's an incredible young woman, and you two are so great together", Nicole complimented.

"I think I was more nervous to come out here than her, to be honest", Oscar said, prompting his mother to raise her eyebrows, "not because of her! I was nervous because she's the first person I've brought home - like, home home - and I didn't know how you would react with her being here and everything. It's not like it's a dinner and she can run away or leave for her own place if she feels uncomfortable or if you guys didn't like her", he trailed off the last part.

His family's opinion mattered to him, and as romantic as it often sounded in movies, he wasn't sure how he would proceed if his family strongly felt against your relationship.

"Well, on our end, we're fine", his mother nudged his shoulder, "she's so lovely, Oscar, you would be a fool if you let her get away from you. She's smart, caring, loving - she fits quite well with grandma", she pointed to you two with her eyes as the older lady taught you how to dip the cake in the chocolate and then the coconut, laughing together as you seemed to get more on your hands than on the actual sweet food, "she loves you dearly, I can tell. Of course we approve. But, if she wants to make a run for it, well - that's going to be a little bit tricky at the very least", she joked as she saw her mother help you with a kitchen towell, "though that doesn't look like it's going to be anytime soon".

You fit right in with his family and he couldn't be happier.

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 2

Moniker: Farah Risk Level: Low. Farah has never been detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Loss of virginity, virginity kink. Safeword: Refer to first brief.

I trust Farah fully, she will look after you. I’ll be watching - Price

“Still doing ok? Think your hymen is pretty thin, so you might tear a little” Farah asked, her finger slowly pressing up inside of you.

You liked her, she was gorgeous in casual lounge wear and had greeted you warmly. The room was set up similarly to yesterday but now with colourful drapes enclosing the bed like a warm cocoon and a table set up full of snacks and water. There was the faint scent of coconut from the oil she had liberally applied on her fingers and your pussy. It was very relaxed.

But then again she had also ordered you out of your clothes in the first 30 seconds and got her finger inside you as soon as you were bare.

“Yeah, I’m ok.”

“Hm, and this?” she said while her thumb gently swept across your clit.

You sucked a sharp breath through your teeth. Still sensitive.

“Ah, I thought it looked a little tender. Soap is an animal” she said fondly. “I’ll be kinder. This is a gift you’re giving me and I’m not in the business of hurting those who give me gifts.”

She leaned over and pressed a quick, almost innocent peck to your sore clit and slowly pumped her finger as she sat back up and grabbed a strawberry off of one of the plates with her other hand. She was beautiful stretching over like that, but my God you did not know why how casual she was about a finger inside you was making you hot.

“Eat habibi, you need to relax.”

The strawberry burst in your mouth and you chewed slowly before swallowing, a pleasant sweetness left behind. She quite literally had you eating from the palm of her hand by the time she added a second finger.

You couldn’t quite decide how it felt. You’d tried it yourself sure, but honestly since your aim was always just to get off you usually didn’t go anywhere near your hole unless it was to gather up some lubrication. It had been strange having a tongue inside you, but the fingers were so much longer and able to stroke differently than Soap’s tongue had.

They kept brushing against what you assumed was your hymen. You hadn’t expected it to be in tact to be honest, you knew there was every likelihood it would have torn or stretched out already just with life. It didn’t really matter to you whether or not you bled when you lost your virginity. To be honest you just wanted it gone because while you understood it was a dumb social construct, that didn’t stop your brain from getting weird about it.

“You’re so tight” Farah said, the edge of a groan in her voice. “But you’ll take me so well. They raise little girls into women who think it is supposed to hurt, who have a voice telling them they are supposed to suffer to prove their worth.”

She curled one finger up and it rubbed against the top of your channel, searching for something.

“It is my privilege to undo the damage for those woman. I will fuck such pride into you that you will never know that voice again.”

It felt like a lightning bolt when her finger found what it has been searching for. She pressed up against the top of your channel and it felt like she had set you on fire as your legs spasmed at the sensation.

“There we are! It’s good that you’re sensitive here, not everybody is” she said, obviously pleased but still so shockingly casual about the whole thing as she smiled and planted a kiss on the tip of your nose. “It gives me some idea of angles for you, maybe today we won’t even need to touch you on the outside to have you peak.”

You wanted to whine at her for being so unaffected, so perfectly calm and collected in her soft sweats and hoodie.

Meanwhile Price was grinning like a madman watching Farah Karim be so fully affected by you on the cameras. She did not treat just anyone with such care, did not share small affections so easily. And she certainly did not struggle to smother the underlying groan of appreciation in her voice unless she was deeply, truly and entirely affected.

How could she not be? She didn’t hide her love of virgins. There was something about the trust it took to give that up to her, to let her slowly, painstakingly open you up so she could nestle inside you. She couldn’t wait to see how wet you made her strap, how sweetly your hole would clench around it. Her body would not take it’s pleasure from that weighty silicone, for virgins she did not pick a harness designed to stimulate her as well. The rush from knowing she was claiming something that society placed such a heavy weight on, the almost ritualistic feeling of the whole affair, that was what she wanted. Her pleasure could come later.

She was content to take her time, make sure your inexperienced pussy was nice and relaxed and welcoming. It wasn’t so different from taming a skittish animal, she had to make sure it felt safe enough to begin craving affection.

“That’s it, do you feel that? How your muscles are relaxing and you’re starting to loosen up for me? You’re doing perfectly habibi” she praised.

Oh her voice was so silky that it felt like it was caressing you, sliding against your skin. You felt how your body became more receptive, how your pussy began to massage around her two fingers as they scissored out to increase the stretch. You wanted more you realised. You couldn’t quite believe it, but you wanted more.

Maybe it was wrong of you, but you’d never quite understood the hype. The idea of someone pushing inside you, tearing part of you and then humping themselves into you over and over to seek their pleasure while you tried to adjust to the pain made you feel a little queasy. You so wanted to just get that first experience over with, were so certain it would be awful.

Now? Now you felt languid and warm. It wasn’t the frenzied heat that Soap had you in the day before, rather a slow, decadent sort of heat. One that only drizzled itself further over you as Farah fed you more ripe fruit that burst on your tongue.

“Farah?”

“Hm?”

“I would like you to take it. Take me.”

You were surprised by your own steady calmness, but it felt right. It felt like you had just figured out a part of who you were. It didn’t make you anxious to ask for what you wanted, didn’t have your body tensing. If anything it made you feel more free.

“It would be an honour” Farah answered with full sincerity as she slowly pulled her fingers from you and brought them to your mouth.

It felt natural to clean them off. Not awkward, not scandalous. Just natural, like her fingers belonged in your mouth with your tongue sensually snaking around them. You liked how you tasted on her.

“Keep yourself loose for me habibi” she said before kissing you quickly and going to strap up.

The kiss made your head spin and your body feel weightless. You really, really liked her.

It wasn’t uncomfortable or strange dipping two of your fingers into yourself now. Your body gave way easily for them, knife through warm and melting at the edges butter. You lazily fingered yourself and watched her fit the harness around her hips over her clothes. The cock she fitted didn’t look as intimidating as it would have when you walked into this room.

She had chosen something beginner friendly. It was about average length and thick enough to fill you without the stretch feeling impossible. The textured surface would help her nail your g-spot and she was near drooling at the image of you cumming hard around her cock, going absolutely limp and boneless from how it would feel to orgasm without her ever playing with your clit.

With that image firmly filling her thoughts she came back to you on the bed, slowly moving between your legs to nestle her strap between your thighs and rock it gently against you, careful to only bump your sore clit just barely.

“Here, let this melt slowly in your mouth, try focus on how it tastes” she said, taking a piece of chocolate and placing it on your tongue.

The silicone was dripping with oil so when it caught on your hole it was an easy push inside. The chocolate was unreal. It wasn’t like anything you had ever tasted and you were pretty sure from how luxurious it was that it cost more than what you made in a month (or used to, at least, this gig was incredibly lucrative).

It didn’t hurt. It wasn’t some mind blowing pleasure, it was more a pinch followed by a heavy fullness that made it tricky to catch your breath.

“Good, so good habibi. How’s the chocolate?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could let her taste it for herself, kissing her firmly with no worry about messiness or sexiness. You just wanted to be full of her everywhere, wanted her tongue dancing with yours.

It was a different feeling when you moved. The fullness was insistent and anytime another part of you felt it there was a spark across your body. You moaned wantonly into her mouth, licking the last of the melted chocolate from her tongue before taking a deep, incredible feeling breath and laying back down.

“Good?” she asked.

“So good. Love me.”

She smiled and gently grabbed your hips for purchase so she could slowly pull out a little and rock into you to let you adjust. Soon she was pulling out right to the tip and then firmly pushing back in to the root.

You let yourself go, no worrying about how you sounded or looked, just enjoying the experience with moans and your hands smoothing across your body. It felt good to squeeze your breast or trace patterns on your stomach and right now feeling good was what mattered.

“Ya Allah, you are so beautiful” she said on a gasp as she made love to you.

“So are you” you replied dreamily.

This whole experience was a dream. Your body felt so fucking good. It was as if your blood was syrup pumping lazily and richly through you, making everything sweet and sticky. Every slow thrust rubbed against that spot she had found earlier and compounded the feeling.

Your body worked itself up so, so slowly. It was a sharp contrast to how Soap had worked you the day before, hurling you over the cliff over and over so you didn’t know how to even think anymore. No, this was a more leisurely affair, your body taking it’s time, savouring every morsel of sensation before moving on to the next.

The orgasm was unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was just a natural progression of the pleasure that had been building rather than a sudden explosion and it felt like it lasted so luxuriously long. Your body was doing the same as it had been, savouring those ripe bursts of sensation before moving on to the next bite.

When finally the pleasure had all been tasted and swallowed down you sighed in bliss. It ached when Farah pulled out, but it was a good ache.

“That was amazing” you said.

“You were amazing” she replied, brushing her fingers against your cheek. “You bled for me.”

“Did I?”

You were honestly surprised. There hadn’t been much in the way of sharp pain or feeling like you were tearing, so you had thought you hadn’t and that there probably wasn’t any blood at all.

“You did. Would you allow me to keep it?”

You didn’t know how she meant to do that and you found you didn’t much care.

“It’s yours.”

Farah did her own aftercare with you, washing you and then massaging fragrant oil into your skin before hand feeding you while you talked for hours.

In a few weeks she would have a brand new bead for her bracelet and would wear your gift proudly on her wrist right next to all the others.

[escapistpainter]

So since batman has flooded my Tumblr, I'm making fics based off of scenarios I've seen. Thanks to @everwalldigan for the idea, I hope I do you justice🙏🏻

The air of the warehouse was thick and muggy in the late summer evening. The sound of muffled conversations, grunts, and the sound of rope rubbing against metal filled the area. "You really got connections, huh boss?" A gruff voice boomed through the empty building, belonging to a large man with a cocky grin plastered on his lips, a syringe in hand. The man a bit further away responds, albeit, quite unintelligibly. Squatting down in front of the man they had tied to a pole who's looking at them with with a deadpanned, almost annoyed expression. "Y'know, since we got you here, why don't we have some fun, eh bats?" A snarky chuckle rang through the room before he takes the syringe and stabs it into Batman's arm. The man let's out a groan through gritted teeth while it sinks deeper into his flesh before the man before him injects the unknown substance into his body.

"Let's start it simple...are you and red hood connected?" It was a random question for sure, though it would clear some things up. Before he can stop himself, Batman speaks. "Yes." Shit, truth serum, of course it is. He shouldn't be surprised at this, so many others have done this before. It's just a nuisance. The tall man's smirk only grows. "This is gonna be fun. I could get you to reveal yourself, but what fun is that?" He flashes a cocky smirk, "Well, since you have SOOOOO many of these 'sidekicks', who's your favorite bat-vigilante?" The man was just acting childish now and Batman couldn't help but roll his eyes but he still couldn't control his words. "I don't have a favorite. At least not currently."

The man readjusts his position, staring at the hero bound in front of him with a raised brow. "And what does that mean?" "Well, it depends on the circumstances. So if red hood doesn't kill someone this week, he gets placed higher on the list, he steals the batmobile and crashes it, least favorite until he makes up for it. Usually Orphan is in the lead, she doesn't talk back, she finished her duties in a timely manner and sometimes makes me origami cranes that I arrange on a shelf to display." The man looks at him, confused and surprised at his response. "That's a lot more indepth than I thou-" His sentence is cut short by Batman beginning to speak again. "Nightwing gets off pretty easy with just coming over to visit every now and then to have dinner, but those points get lost when he has a sling." The man found it hard to look away or cut him off as he was explaining, only motioning for the others to come closer, as if wanting to show them something.

"Red Robin gets the silent treatment if hacks into the county servers and decides to Rick roll everyone and only starts being spoken to if he helps me wrangle Robin and stop him from strangling Super boy. That gets Robin to need to go on longer patrols and doesn't get to go on missions with me as a punishment but I take that back if he prepares dinner, which he almost never does. I can't do anything to control spoiler, she just does what she does and I can only hope it's not a war crime, the less awful it is, the less she gets punished, though if she decides to spray pepper spray all over the inside of my mask one more time, I'm taking her girlfriend privileges away." *No one knows when but he's now holding a white board to display the charts of his favorites and everyone just assumes he has it just in case? It's Batman, who knows.

A voice blares over his comm system and into his ear. "B, we've tracked your location, we're almost there, do you copy?" Several minutes of silence went by as he shouts again, "B, do you copy?!" And a groan ring out before his comms beeped off. "The signal," Batman continued, "is similar to orphan in the sense, he doesn't get into trouble so he's always very high, but it hurts when he ignores me so I put him just a tad lower for hurting my feelings. And Oracle, well, she's not good, but she's not bad, she kinda just... Exists outside of missions, sometimes she sends me cat videos and I like that so she gets a few points ahead. And if all of my kids suck, then super boy gets the title of favorite, he's so much better than what I have to put up with. But if he runs away and has Superman start riding my ass more than normal, straight to the bottom and either bathound or batcow take that title."

Once he finishes speaking, the room is filled with eery silence while the criminals look at each other like he just gave birth. No one had expected that to be the outcome of the simple question but they're all brought out of their contemplations when a loud crash echoes through the warehouse, causing the men to spring to their feet. "What was that!?" One of the men shouts as the other see a dark figure appear behind him. "Me bitch." As soon as the man turns around, hard knuckles crash against his face and he falls to the ground. It didn't take long for the others to start getting picked off as well until the last guy is collapsed on the floor unconscious.

"You could've taken them down yourself B." Jason remarks, hauling the men into a pile. "They asked a question." Bruce exhales, feeling slightly disappointed in himself for just staying there. "And you know I don't like when you swear, further down you go." "What?! Not fair!"

[chryblossomjjk]

distractions | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING: m/18+

⇢ WC: 1.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: cute couple content, they drop the 'l' word guys, n*pple piercings n sucking bc u know... fixation lmao, v suggestive but no actual sm*t, finger sucking lol, the love is requited :')

⇢ SUMMARY: jungkook agreed to let you do his makeup, but he can't stop getting distracted.

⇢ NOTES: ugh i missed them dearly!! will be putting out more drabbles soon, but i'm currently trying to focus on my other wip!! i haven't posted anything in so long so i wanted to share this with you guys! school n work is hectic i already feel swamped pls be patient with me :') i miss having time for a hobby lmao!! anyways, i hope you enjoy and let me know ur thoughts! love u <3 also apologize if there's any typos or weirdness, this wasn't beta'd!! if you haven't read practice yet, pls read before this!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

“Kook, look up! How many times do I have to tell you?” 

Four months into the relationship and his attention span, or lack thereof, never ceased to amaze you. With a frustrated groan, you place the pointy end of your Sailor Moon brush between your teeth before gripping his chin and turning his wandering gaze back to you. 

“Bambi, I’m looking up!” He yell-laughs, doe-eyes wide and sarcastic as they bear into you, equally frustrated. You can already see the concealer you applied just a few minutes ago creasing. Dramatically, he karate chops his tattooed arm towards the ceiling, paralleling your scantily clad frame straddling him. The sudden jump has you shifting against his crotch deliciously. Now’s not the time for fooling around, though. You’re determined to put the cute brush set Jungkook randomly gifted you a few weeks back to good use, starting with giving your sweet boyfriend a full beat. “This is up! What other direction is up?”

What an asshole. 

You pop the pink plastic out of your mouth, taking an annoyed chomp out of his annoying fingers. It's playful, of course. You mean, you’ve just got done with a whitening strip, after all…

Jungkook takes the opportunity to shove his digits further past your glossy lips, reaching down just enough to feel your throat constrict, then pulling back. He stares up at you with the cheesiest fucking grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re mean,” you cough, wiping the drool at the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“No you,” he counters, pinching your cheek patronizingly. “I love you, though.”

One month into the lovey-dovey phase of the relationship; that one where the initial butterflies fly away and you’re left feeling like ‘wow, maybe this is a forever sort of thing,’ and you still feel lightheaded every time Jungkook murmurs those three words.

“I love you, too,” you coo, reaching down to adjust his teddy-bear headband. Jungkook’s been growing his hair out. This was his last semester and he was determined to go out with a bang. For whatever reason, he had decided that bang was a mullet. You remember how confused you were when he showed up at your dorm at 3am, drunk off Fireball and excitement, asking you to cut his hair. You thought the request was outlandish and foolish, but you did it anyway, in your bathroom with eyebrow scissors. It came out a teeny bit crooked, and a tiny bit choppy, but Jungkook loved it, staring at his reflection with a big bunny smile and starry eyes. “But baby, this-” you tap on the headboard behind him, “-is up.”

He squints his eyes in defiance before complying. Ah, you’ve trained him well. A very good boy, indeed.

You’ve spoken, or thought, too soon, because after a few swipes of the plush bristles, a high-pitched ‘Appa!’ from your phone, leaning against your Kuromi makeup bag on the nightstand beside you, draws his dark pupils back to the cartoon. 

“That’s it,” you huff like an overwhelmed mother of three, yanking the device out of his sight. “Say goodbye to Aang. You’ve lost your Avatar: The Last Airbender privileges.” 

“C’mon, seriously?” He laughs while lunging forward, attempting to wrestle the phone out of your grasp. Giggling wildly, you toss it on the pink shag rug below you, out of his reach. The movement almost sends you toppling over. Luckily, Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Bambi, you know I’m easily distracted.”

“But you said I could do your makeup,” you pout, batting your lashes at him.

“I know, I-”

“Don’t touch!” You shriek, preventing him from rubbing his eye.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes through a chuckle, holding his hands by his head in defense. “Maybe I…” You deadpan him as his eyes scan around the room before, not so subtly, landing on your chest. Cocking his head, he tuts his tongue and grips the hem of your shirt. Shamelessly, he stuffs the nearly transparent material into your mouth, exposing your bare breasts. “There, just like that,” he whispers, warm palms grazing up your torso to cup them, thumbs grazing over your little diamond heart jewelry. You gasp at the touch. “You know, I still can’t believe you actually got ‘em’.” Neither could you, honestly, but if there was one thing Jungkook has taught you, it’s that sometimes, you need to step out of your comfort zone. Take risks. Especially when it results in the cutest little nipple piercings. “So fucking sexy…”

You feel his forming bulge poking against you. God, do you want him. But even Jungkook’s dick couldn’t derail you from the mission at hand. Raising an eyebrow, you lift up the makeup brush.

The tits really seem to keep him preoccupied. With a hand on his cheek, you feel his mouth hollowing, sucking your nipple gingerly as you lean over him and fill in his thick brows. Obviously, it’s a bit hard to focus. Every now and then, you have to tug his hair to redirect his nibbles back down to soft licks. 

“Okay,” you announce, letting the shirt fall from your candy-coated lips and sitting up, “what color?”

Out of the entire thirty-pan rainbow eyeshadow palette you’re holding up for him, he lazily points to the darkest shade in the top color. His favorite color, of course; black. You should’ve known. Your lips scrunch to the side in contemplation. Jungkook would look so yummy with a smokey eye.

So you blend and blend away with blacks, whites, and grays. Shockingly, your boyfriend manages to stay still throughout the entire process. You’re proud of him, really. He’ll definitely get rewarded afterward. And you were right, the final product is absolutely delectable. 

“Baby, your eyelashes are stunning!” You swoon. “And the smokey-eye looks so so so good with your eye shape.”

Silence.

“Jungkook?” You lean forward, gripping his shoulders and shaking softly. Nothing but the sound of faint snores reaches your ears. The little fuck fell asleep. No wonder why he’s been so good. You laugh in disbelief, picking your phone off the floor and snapping a few pictures to show him in the morning. Reaching into your drawer, you take out a couple makeup wipes and start cleaning him up. You loathe makeup wipes and only keep them for emergencies, but Jungkook looks so peaceful that you can’t bring yourself to wake him.

Next, you snuggle beside him with a spare blanket, unable to yank your comforter out from under his thick, muscular thighs. He stirs when you gently pull off his headband. “I love you…” he mumbles, still half asleep. It’s as if the emotion is so ingrained in his subconscious that they bubble to the surface, even when he’s sleepy and incoherent. 

And you feel the same exact way. 

“I love you, Jungkook. Goodnight.”

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]