#Table Rock Dam

[lensandpenpress]

THE JAMES: TRANSFORMATION OF AN OZARK RIVER

Printed postcard, 1907. The genesis of the square-ended (and, as above, sometimes pointed), flat bottomed boats specifically for commercial floating on the James and White rivers is poorly documented. Many theories have been advanced as to how they were developed and how they came to be called “johnboats.” We chose to profile the James River in a 352-page all color book because its watershed…

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#Corps of Engineers #Empire District Electric #Galena #James River #Lake Taneycomo #Powersite Dam #Table Rock Dam #Table Rock Reservoir #White River

[ambreignsfan4life]

Most Beloved WWE Male

#wwe #romanreigns #randy orton #rey mysterio #wwe ricochet #rob van dam #road dogg #ric flair #rhyno #randy savage #the rock #rikishi #roddy piper #the tribal chief #legend killer #the apex predator #the head of the table #lwo

[vixensp1ce]

them as japanese p rn tropes

fem!reader / pt. 2 (jing yuan and aventurine)

childe

he's the sleazy coworker, the one who ogles your boobs whenever you bend over and thinks pencil skirts are a gift to humanity (his dick).

of course, accepting his invitation to hang out and drink at his place is a sure sign that you're not as innocent as you look.

and when he has you on the carpet, legs folded up to your chest, looking so sweet and breedable just for him, he realises you're not wearing underwear. just stockings. and a gasket blows in his mind.

there's an adult movie playing on the tv, but he's muted it. he wants to hear your voice and your voice only, after all.

he fucks you slowly at first, relishing the way your boobs ripple with the movement in your tight office blouse. you might be wearing a smaller one today, because the buttons are straining and he can see a peek of your lacey bra underneath.

your walls squeeze and flutter around him, betraying your need, but childe ignores it for now.

"so pretty, so, so pretty, all for me..." he mutters, still rocking his hips, grinding gently into you. the buttons come open with ease, revealing a scrap of red lace, transparent so he can see your hardened nipples.

he pauses. you seem to know what's coming next and squeeze around his dick in anticipation.

"you little slut," he growls in delight, slamming into your g-spot with such accuracy that you cry his name.

he sets a frightening pace, his dick scraping against every inch of your ribbed walls you've never been able to reach on your own, and you wonder, did he just get bigger?

"gonna cum inside, fill you up, inside inside inside," he chants, lost in his pleasure and tugging down your bra. your boobs spring free, now rippling freely like a wave. he ducks his head, suckling on one nipple, a hand coming up to tease the other one.

"ajax! oh, please, please, i'm so close," you moan, the pressure in your lower tummy building.

"with me," he mumbles, switching to your other nipple. "cum with me, baby, together..."

your rapidly contracting walls betray how close you are, and his dick twitches and twitches inside of you. childe grabs your leg, slinging it over his shoulder so his dick reaches even deeper into you, and the new position is just what you need for the dam to break.

you scream his name. you clamp down on him, hard, your back arching taut, pushing your breast further into his mouth. he cums at the same time, ropes of thick, hot cum filling you up in a place you hadn't even known was empty.

he's still pistoning into you at a violent pace, fucking you both through your first orgasm of the night.

blade

funny guy has funny tastes. if you'd known that one of his favourite things to do was to have you tied up and restrained, you would have... well, nothing, seeing as you enjoyed it just as much as he.

you were under the dining table, draped over the support crossbars and trying to clear out a particularly stubborn cobweb. blade eyes you hungrily, feeling his cock just begin to strain at his pants. he can see the outline of your panties through your clothes, the lucious curve of your ass tempting him to do something only in his fantasies.

then you pull back and stop.

"um, blade? a little help?"

his patience snaps. striding up to you, he lands a glancing blow on your behind. you yelp, your back arching. "hey, what was that for?"

he doesn't care. blade gives himself a moment to fix the image of your ass in his mind, then pulls down your clothes and underwear in one smooth movement.

"you little bitch," he snarls. a string of your arousal stretches from your pussy to your underwear. "fucking slut."

he slides his dick back and forth in your inner lips, coating it in slick and the tip rubbing aginst your clit. you moan, your back arching, grinding against him to try and get more friction.

blade reaches under the table and tugs you free, hoisting you up into his arms and carrying you to the couch.

another slap. you whimper, trying to turn back to get a look at him, but he grabs your head and forces it down.

"a slut like you shouldn't even be looking at me," he growls.

he spreads your asscheeks with his thumbs. the movement has your pussy weeping a few drops of cum onto his slick, wet dick.

"slut," he mutters again, half to himself, and slams himself into you.

you gasp, back arching, the fabric of the couch crinkling under your grip. "bla~ade," you moan angelically.

"shut up," he commands, pulling you roughly into him again. your shut up obediently. the flesh of your ass ripples up your body, and he can just see your boobs swaying to his rhythm.

he leans over you to whisper into your ear. "does my naughty little slut wanna cum?" he whispers, his gravelly voice sending sparks into your lower tummy.

you can feel his dick, thick and rock-hard, weighing down inside of you, and you can almost imagine the outline of it showing through your tummy. you nod.

he pistons his hips into yours, humping like an animal in heat, aiming right for the most sensitive gummy spot within you. you whimper and moan, your back arching in pleasure, and then you feel his hand clasp your boob to stimulate your nipple roughly.

"no-!" you squirm against his hold, but blade has you completely pinned. his other hand snakes down to where the two of you are connected, flesh smacking together and ringing through the room.

"if you want to cum, then cum." you can hear the smile in his voice as his hand finds your sensitive little nub and rubs it fiercely.

the pressure in your lower tummy spikes, and you claw at the couch as you cum, looking for something to hold onto. "bladebladeblade, ah, harder, please~"

#hsr x reader smut #blade smut #hsr x reader #x reader smut #hsr blade #childe smut #childe #tartaglia #childe tartaglia ajax #childe tartagalia #childe genshin impact #tartagila #tartaglia smut

[lieutnt]

KINKTOBER - #7

sex pollen w/ ftm!steven grant x top!male readerkinktober masterlist

The low hissing of gas has you instantly alert, finding Steven’s eyes blown with concern as you frantically search for the source. Breathing soon becomes a struggle, lungs fighting for each breath as your mind grows foggy, vision beginning to blur. Steven appears as equally affected, barely able to stand without a hand resting against the table as he throatily hacks into the room, desperate for clean air.

You barely notice when the hissing stops, mind disoriented as your cock throbs in your pants, arousal a blazing inferno sweeping through your body like a wildfire. You should be more concerned, but you’re unable to focus on anything but the need for release and one glance at Steven shows that he's feeling the effects as well, thighs grinding against one another in an attempt to find relief.

Time seems to slow as you walk towards each other, bodies bogged down by desperation and when you meet it’s a messy clash of spit and saliva, lips moving against one another as hands wander, your hand dipping under Steven’s pants to find him already soaked, slick pooling in your palm at the barest of touches. Your hips buck forward at the feeling of his hand circling your cock, spreading your arousal and pumping you quick and harsh.

At the first push of your finger Steven moans, walls desperately fluttering around the digit and even as it sinks in as deep as it can he’s begging for more against your mouth. 

The second enters just as easily as the first, engulfed by a wet heat as Steven rocks against them. His fist tightens around your cock, but even as pleasure spikes hot in your blood it feels as if something’s missing, his hand isn’t enough and tears begin to gather in the corner of Steven’s eyes as your fingers rub against his walls, the dull ache of emptiness beginning to amplify to his core.

What you’re doing can barely be considered kissing at this point, panting against each other’s mouths and you don’t need to be told twice when Steven begs for more. With more force than you intended you push him against the table, a low groan rumbling from your throat as he hastily pulls down his pants and underwear to mid-thigh, leaving you the view of his hole clenching around nothing while his inner thighs are shiny with arousal.

Your cock is achingly hard, and when you release it from its confines you can hear the wet smack of your hand against your shaft as you stroke yourself, wasting no time in resting your head against his hole and pushing in, synchronous moans tumbling from you both as you bottom out. 

Relief floods through your system, the corners of your vision becoming a little less hazy as his cunt clings to your cock, inner muscles fighting to keep you pressed inside. Despite the pleasure from the feeling of his warmth around your cock your body urges you to draw out, knocking a moan loose from Steven’s lungs as you snap back in.

Normally you would wait longer before setting a frenzied pace but with how open he is you don’t need to, driving your cock back inside with the instinct to cum. Arousal continuously drips from Steven, leaving your cock with a sheen when you pull out that has you growing wild, rutting into him as if you were no more than a beast in heat.

Your ears are deaf to the animalistic moans your throat releases as you chase your high, uncaring when you feel Steven tighten around you and his legs tremble as you push him through his first orgasm, the release only aiding you in fucking against his slippery walls. It doesn’t satiate him, the ache still intense as you grip his hips, yanking him back to meet your thrusts, bodies connecting in a noisy collision of schlick schlick schlick. 

Arousal burns heavy in your gut, white-hot zings of pleasure hurtling down your spine as your balls tighten. With a few more thrusts it’s like a dam bursts - cock spilling rope after rope inside him, more than you’ve ever done before as Steven cums again, pleasure ripping through his system.

Your bodies shift against one another, milking each other dry of the last of your orgasms. You collapse against his back, breathing heavily as exhaustion ripples through your body, cock pressed deep inside and plugging him full of your cum. Steven rests his forehead against the table, attempting to let the coldness of it infiltrate his skin as his cunt weakly pulses around your length, clenching to keep your cum deep inside.

Despite the last of the contagion fleeing your system you find yourself barely able to move, content with resting against Steven as you fight to gain your awareness back.

#steven grant #trans!steven grant #steven grant x male reader #male reader #top reader #top male reader #moon knight #marvel #lieutnts writings #lieutnts kinktober 2023

[lost-in-lamentation]

marred.

a/n: and for my birthday, i would like to give lucifer a hug.

content: lucifer is overworked (shocker). takes place in original timeline.

warnings: nothing? i think?

comfort. lucifer × gen!reader (you/your).

it's late by the time you return home, the clock ticking far past midnight as you walk by it in the hallway. your steps are muffled by the carpet beneath you. the only sound that can be considered loud from you is the way the plastic bag in your hand crinkles with each step. you head towards the dining room, placing the bag on the table just as you hear a loud thud coming from above. you wonder if it's leviathan doing another game marathon, belphegor falling out of his bed, or satan having a late night tantrum. with a sigh, you turn heel and head back to your room, putting the rest of your belongings down before venturing out to see if you need to scold a certain brother. 

you poke your head into levi's room first, but write him off the list when you see him in his bathtub tapping away at his handheld console. you're about to check the twins next when something else catches your eye. it's not uncommon for lucifer to be working this late into the night, but his usual habits always have the lights dimmed. 

quietly, you rap on his door a few times, rocking back and forth on your heels until it clicks open. 

clearing your throat, you step inside and shut the door behind you. "i'm home," you say softly, crossing the room to where lucifer sits on the couch. "you're not working?" 

uncharacteristically, lucifer shakes his head no, briefly meeting your gaze before gesturing for you to sit next to him. "it… felt like a nice night to sit and watch the fire." 

"yeah?" you slot yourself next to him, shoulders brushing as you settle in. lucifer doesn't say anything more, but you're quick to notice his ungloved hands and the way his knuckles are white from clenching them so hard. without a word, you flip your own hand to have your palm facing up, keeping your eyes trained on the fire. you stay that way for a while, the crackling of the embers taking up the rest of your attention. it's only when you feel lucifer tentatively place his hand in yours that you look back at him. a gentle smile tugs at the corners of your lips before you turn to the fire again. 

lucifer opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. instead, he pulls your entwined hands up, pressing them to his forehead for a few seconds. in your grasp, you feel his hands trembling, and his breath is shaky against your skin. you face him again, this time with concern carved into your expression.

"tell me what's going on," you whisper, pulling your hands down so you can see lucifer's face. your heart sinks at the sight; the defeat marring his face is so blatant when it's just the two of you. 

his eyes barely meets yours. "i…" he pauses, and you worry that he is looking for a way out. but lucifer sighs after a second, his head hanging low. "i am tired." 

your chest constricts at the sight of lucifer being so vulnerable. slowly, you untangle your hand from his, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and tugging him down so his head lands in your lap. his eyes are red, and it's not the usual ruby coloured gaze you've grown accustomed to seeing. lucifer's eyes glow red with turbulent emotions, sadness and defeat overtaking all. "you've done well."

lucifer can feel the tenderness as you cup his cheeks, your care and compassion so stark that he feels like the dam will break. but you smile at him, and lucifer can't stop the warmth that spreads from your hands all the way into his own heart. pride be dammed when he is with you; nothing feels better to lucifer than when he finally feels understood. 

a/n: idk i had a pretty bad week actually but now i'm 22 and what better way to celebrate than putting lucifer through emotional hell, am i right?

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #obey me comfort #aris writes 🐈‍⬛

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part Twenty - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: kind of kidnapping if you squint ; mentions of death ; violence ; angst ; nsfw kudos to @scarlettspectra and @lilspookymeh for being music gurus and basically inspiring my entire writing playlist ❤️

“John, I can’t stay here - I have work, Michael.”

“It’s not up for debate.” 

She scowls at the way he talks to her like a petulant child, looks over at Winston for help and finds none.

“You can’t make me stay here,” she grits.

He fixes her with a dark, mean look, clears the distance between them in one stride, and grabs her before she can think about running. “I can make you stay, but I don’t want to have to do that.”

He’s really just springing this on her. Because the death of Maria puts a target on his back and therefore a smaller one on hers, John thinks the best solution is keeping her locked in the safe house that is Winston’s massive hotel. No consulting her, no talking about options. Just cut and dry. Do as I say. She’s offered alternative solutions, even - “I’ll walk around with Victor’s - sorry, Viggo’s - bodyguards at my side!” - because, of course, her having a private little secret service of her own is now unnegotiable, too. Imagine that.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she retorts, voice quiet despite her lionhearted words. 

“I’m not speaking in metaphors,” John says, “you’re staying here. Either way. I need you safe.”

She tries to tear her arm from his grip, but it’s like attempting to wrestle with a gorilla. “So what? I’m just supposed to stay locked up in your gilded cage and forget I have a life?”

He loosens his hold a little bit, lets her puffy flesh spring back from bruising, and softens, hard rock eyes turning molten. Still, there is fire involved. “You can hate me if you want. You don’t have to look at me or speak to me, but I’m responsible for your safety, now. I need you unharmed.”

Ah, there it is again, that fucking pang in her heart that leaves her whole being bloodless and aching when he reminds her why she’s ultimately here - pity. 

Sure, he’s told her otherwise a thousand times now, and his actions are testament to how much he wants her, but that admittance is all she needs to start thinking she’s a charity case again. 

Tears swell her eyes. 

She can’t believe they’ve gone from bliss to this in such a short amount of time. And now what? She’s trapped here and humiliated? Pitied? 

“No, I didn’t-“ 

“Yeah you did,” she whispers, looking down at the shiny dark floor, watching little tear droplets accumulate on its surface.

He lets her pull away and gathers every ounce of his willpower to avoid following as she walks out of the room and into the bustling hotel. 

“That went well,” Winston comments, flipping through the manila envelope of witness statements.

His knuckles ache to punch something. Marcus isright here, downing scotch like it’s his last day on earth - maybe he thinks it is - one little punch wouldn’t hurt him. 

More willpower used up to not hit Marcus. He decides to leave the room instead. 

Marcus thinks he did it. Winston might as well think so, too. The eight witnesses that put him at the location say he did. 

The only person that knows he didn’t do it - because he was instead with her when he supposedly took a round trip flight to El Paso and fixed a bullet into Maria’s skull - wants nothing to do with him when the only thing he wants is to curl up beside her and lament. 

He needs an outlet. 

———————————

“You need to call the police,” Michael tells her. His voice fades away for a minute while she hears rummaging in the background. 

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble Michael. It’s not like I’m being tortured or something.” 

“And?” 

“It wouldn’t matter.” 

“I don’t know, they could probably come get you out of there?” 

“I don’t think cops come here, Michael. I don’t think they’re allowed to be here.”

He pauses for dramatic effect, probably. She’s glad she called him. His usual antics calm her. “They’re not allowed to tear gas peaceful protesters either, but….. ”

“No, I think they kill them here.” 

“Sneak out,” Michael concludes. 

“That’s my next bid.” 

“Damn, your pussy must be god tier if this man is kidnapping you, though.” 

She rolls her eyes. 

“What?! I’m just saying!” She hears the no good grin and it puts a smile on her face. 

“I don’t know how I’m gonna pay rent, Michael. I told work, but they’re probably going to fire me - if they even believe me - and then I won’t have income to pay my share-“

“ Are you serious?” Michael sighs. “You’ve just been kidnapped and you’re worried about me ? Babe, stop.”

“We made a deal Michael, and all I’ve done is fuck it up.” 

“Worry about getting out of there, and we’ll sort it out once you’re free of crazy boyfriend.”

“He’s not crazy,” she tries, “he’s just… worried.” 

“Uh-huh.” Michael takes another pause.  “Anyway, what is this place called?”

“You are not coming here, Michael. You’ll get hurt.” 

“Why? I’m not a cop.”

“Michael.”

“Right, right. You’re living the mystery novel life. Is it wrong that I’m a little jealous?” 

“No, I guess not. He just kind of makes it seem like he has to keep me here. I feel like a burden.”

“ You ? Feeling like a burden ?” The sharp sarcasm in his voice cuts. “Have you tried telling him that?”

“Well, no, but I’m scared.” 

Michael sighs. “Jesus, hun, I’m not sure what to tell you here. Sounds like he’s a little bit dysfunctional. Maybe he’s just not ready for a relationship. I mean, he has to know that holding you against your will isn’t okay.” 

She sighs back. It’s like their own little angsty language. “It’s not like I’m normal.” 

“Ah, so maybe the darkness in you calls to the darkness in him?” Michael sounds like he’s reciting breathy Shakespeare.

She laughs. 

——————-

The Continental is massive, shimmering, crystal chandeliers and intricate, antique carpets. 

Spotless, open, airy, a few delicate plants dotted about. Every room or hallway or lobby she enters feels too big - like she’s a kid again, tiny in proportion to everything else. Even the elevators gold and glimmer and loom.

Private clubs with massive polished oak doors to guard against entry, workers in perfectly tailored suits everywhere; one around each corner, in the bars and shops, diligent and watching. 

If she had any hope before of getting out of here, now she definitely doesn’t. Seems like every exit has an individual posted on it who would put Benny’s hulking mass to shame. 

She sees a woman who is taller than John, in a sleeveless tuxedo dress, muscles rippling over her shoulders and neck. She doesn’t think she has ever envied or admired someone so much. Despite the bodybuilder physique, this towering lady moves like flowing water. She just stares at her for a few minutes, entranced by the otherworldly beauty. How can he even think of liking her when women like this live and breathe? 

It’s easy to forget the outside world exists, here. But, she stills feels trapped - heralded off to some magical realm where everyone has a gun tucked under their shirt instead of a magic wand. 

She gets lost in the place, always expecting John to be waiting for her around corners or down a hallway. He’s not, though, instead leaving her alone like he said he would. That pisses her off and disappoints her a little bit; she wants him to follow her, fight for her, extinguish her flame of independence, which must mean there’s seriously something wrong here. He can’t just lock her up and then leave. 

Ignoring the empty John shaped space in her gut, she walks until she finds the library. Wall to wall shelves, rolling ladders carved in intricate, braided designs, a few cozy reading nooks. Librarian fantasy says hello. 

She scowls at the thought, goes to the fairytale section, lying to herself about thinking of John in this instance, too.

As chance would have it, someone she recognizes is here. The older woman from the bookstore in the mall, still sans reading glasses, squinting at the cover of a worn yellow hardback. 

“Do you need some help with that?” 

“Oh, my dear, nice to see you again.” There is an air of poise about this woman even in her shortcomings. She hands the book delicately to her rescuer, smiling softly. “Would you mind?” 

“Oh,” she thumbs the cover, feels the carved gold letters on the front. “This is Alice in Wonderland.” 

“Lewis Carroll?” 

“Yeah, I can tell you about this without even reading it.” She grins, cheeks puffing, pleased to have someone familiar here. 

The woman takes the book from her hands and sticks it back. “As interesting as Alice in Wonderland is, I’d much rather talk to you. You don’t belong here, do you? In a place like this?” 

She looks down at her feet. “Ah, no.” Really, she could pose the same question, but she finds herself unsurprised that nice stranger books in this hotel. Maybe it was the men in suits at her side. Maybe it’s because she’s used to this by now - fitting in nicely, snug as a bug in a rug. Meant for the underground. 

“So why are you here, dear?” 

They end up sitting in one of the lounges. She offers to go grab them both tea, paying for it and tipping despite hospitality, and then settles in to talk. This woman reminds of her of Winston, or like one of the kind, witty grandmothers from sparse foster homes. No matter how mean the rest of the family was, usually the elders were double kind to make up for it. 

She ends up telling her small things. Not too much, but more than she can Michael. This woman is already involved in the ancient crime world, so she feels like she can divulge more info. Plus, she’s confident that anyone here could just type her name into some imaginary database and bring up every detail about her, anyway. 

“Ah, John Wick, Boogeyman.” 

“People keep calling him that. I don’t think he’s that scary.” 

The woman laughs. “I don’t know, I’ve only heard. Never met.”

“Well, he’s actually nice,” she supplies, sipping her hibiscus tea. “Stubborn, but nice.”

“And he’s keeping you here to protect you, so he can’t be all bad.” 

“Yeah… we’ll go with that.” 

The woman laughs. “Oh, there is a fire in you. Misplaced, but a fire all the same.” 

“Misplaced?”

“You desire hardness, outer armor, to be strong, but you don’t realize that your true power comes from your softness.”

“I’m tougher than I look.” 

“I’ve no doubt.” Her contemplative eyes assess the cementing posture. 

“Sorry, I’m just. I’m irritated that I have to stay here.” She drops her shoulders, relaxes her jaw. 

“You’ve got a free spirit. You remind me of someone I once knew.”

“Was it you?” She smiles again. 

“Indeed. Unfortunately, this old bird had her wings clipped long ago.” 

“Your wings are massive and amazing, still.” 

The elder beams at her. “You know, my children think I’m out of my mind.”

“Huh? But you’re not.”

She shrugs. “They want my empire. I suppose I am getting older - should probably relinquish it sooner rather than later.” 

Just like with John, she feels that deep dive questions would be too forthcoming and intrusive here. “So, they’re making up stuff to get it? Sounds like your kids aren’t that great.” 

“Ah, but isn’t that my fault if they are not great, then?” She sighs and leans back into cushions that swallow her small frame. 

This is a hard question. She’s spent a lifetime blaming foster parents for fucking her up so much. 

“See? You can’t argue with that.” Her crinkled smile widens. 

“Mistakes are mistakes. The past doesn’t define the future. You do seem lovely now, regardless of what happened when they were kids.” 

“What do you do for work, my darling?”

“I’m a nurse.” 

——————————-

After talking for a long time with Ella, her mystery bookstore friend, she goes to knock on Winston’s study door, surprised she can even find it again. It takes a while, and she gets completely lost in the process. 

“Won’t find him in there. I think he’s downstairs. Do you need something?” She turns to find a tall, tattooed, beautiful woman folding linens onto a silver cart. 

“Oh, I just wanted to talk to him. Sorry.”

“You’re John’s girl?” She holds out a hand, gives a soft smile. “I’m a good friend of his.”

Why in the hell can’t she repress the jealousy raging inside her as she takes this absolutely gorgeous woman’s hand in her own? “Uh, yeah.” She resists asking how everyone seems to know what she looks like and who she belongs to. Maybe it’s just that distinguishable? John Wick with a fat girlfriend. 

Ouch . Back to hurting her own feelings again. 

“Oh, it’s really nice to meet you. A friend of John’s is a friend of mine. I’m a bell hop, trying to work my way up into bartender. They make more money.” She fixes her pile of cloth and then looks up as if forgetting something. “I’m Addie.” 

She’s at a loss for words, feels incredibly sheepish around this girl for no reason - exposed and open, ready for final judgement. Harrowing.

She introduces herself back despite trepidation and tries to give a warmer smile than she’s capable of right now. “Oh, that’s cool. You like bartending?” 

Addie laughs at some inside joke. “Oh, God no. Not in this city. But in the hotel, it’s great. Not many other bar owners will let you punch their customers for getting too handsy.”

She laughs. “Serves them right.” 

“I don’t mean to pry,” Addie smooths over a crisp sheet. “But how did you meet John?” 

Oh, the million dollar embarrassing question. “The prison. I was his nurse.” 

“Oh, that’s cute as hell.” Addie’s melodic giggle helps lower her raised haunches. “He hasn’t gone steady in a minute. I’m glad he’s happy. I’ve known him since we were kids, I mean, and he hasn’t been this sunshiny in a long time.”

Ah, another one of John Wick’s long time friends. “He’s a pretty good guy.” 

Addie nods. “Ah, we’re not passing the bechdel test.”

She chuckles. “You’re right.” 

“We will next time, promise. I gotta get back to work.” Addie gives her a wink and then she’s off. She calls back over her shoulder, “I’ll tell Winston you’re looking for him.”

“Thanks, but you don’t-“

“It’s fine.” Addie grins back. “He’s not busy.” 

—————————

She gets lost a few more times, maybe just maybe hoping for a tall, dark hero to come swoop her up and apologize. She’s more disappointed than she should be when that doesn’t happen. 

But, she does run into Charon again when she finds the front entrance. 

He gives her a small smile. “I trust you are finding the provisions here adequate, Miss?” 

She leans on his counter, emboldened by the lack of patrons in the lobby. “Could I ask you something?”

“Anything.” 

“I was in the library, and I saw the book with you in it. Behind the big glass display case, you know? You were in an orchestra in the pictures. Do you play… cello, right?”

“That’s correct. Well, was correct. I haven’t played in several years. Do you play?” 

“Ah, no.” She shrugs. “I just saw you in there and you looked amazing. Like really in your element.”

“Do I look.. out of my element now?” His head tilts, smile broadening.

“No, no, not at all.” Her eyebrows furrow. “Sorry, I just meant - you really looked like you loved it.”

“I did. It was exhilarating.” 

“Why don’t you do it anymore?” 

“I suppose I just got busy with other duties. I enjoy working at the hotel. The light of the stage was wonderful for a while, but I realized I was meant for a quieter fate. One with less excitement.”

“This is less excitement?” She gestures around. 

“Continental ground is sacred. We rarely have to take action against our guests for violence.” He pauses. “I know your experience has indicated otherwise.” 

She shakes her head. “Sorry, I didn’t-“

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” His pleasant smile still lingers as testament to that. “It’s alright to be curious. Ask me anything you want.”

She does. She asks who can stay here, who is not allowed to stay here, how long it’s been around, who built it. She asks him about the cello, if his hands got scarred, if he would play again at some point so she could come to his concert. 

Charon is infinitely interesting, sports the same dark humor that John does, and she chats with him until he gets customers. 

—————————

John stays gone. All day, all night. The more time goes by, the more anxious she gets. She should be angry, seething, but instead she just wants him to be okay, to come back to her. She’s grown so miserably attached to this elusive man, and the insanity that goes with that attachment is eating at her like swarms of locusts on fresh fields of grain.

—————————

He’s all bruised knuckles and blood flecked, sinew and tendon and vein. The smell of diesel and sweet liquor and heavy iron. She can’t help but peak at him from under the comforter while he undresses. 

“Good morning.” 

Of course he knows. He’s got sonic radar. She flushes, and doesn’t answer him. 

“I’d ask if you want to join me in the shower, but that would make me a bigger asshole.” 

“I don’t remember even saying you could stay in the same room as me anymore,” she grumbles, shifting under the blanket so a few of her toes peak from the end.

He resists tickling her. 

“You’re right. Let me take this shower, and I’ll book another one.”

“Are you rich?” She asks. 

“I have money.”

“Like, rich money?” 

He raises a dark eyebrow and looks far too good standing nude and bruised on the cold hardwood. 

“Does it matter?”

“I feel like you’re trying to buy me off.” 

He snorts, rubs a flexing hand down his abdomen and yawns. God, he’s fucking delectable. “Would it work?”

“Fuck you, John.” She tries to make her words hurt, but they’re half assed and weak.

He’s got a smile that makes her seethe and clench at once. Infuriating bastard. 

“Want me to fix that attitude with my tongue?” He offers, watches her toes curl up as she turns the other way and becomes a smaller mound under the covers. 

“I want you to go away.” 

He gives her credit for the control in her thickened voice. Saliva, always giving her away. 

“You got it.”

When the bathroom door shuts, she flings the blanket off and goes to get breakfast. For herself. 

Winston catches her in the dining room. “Do the clothes I sent up fit?” He asks. 

“Yeah, they do. Thank you. I appreciate it.” She looks distraught, out of element.

He hums and threads her arm with his, walking with her to the serving bar. “I’m sure he’ll take you to get your clothes and toiletries soon,” Winston promises. “I offered to have Charon escort you, but Johnathan seems to have faith in your ability to weasel away.” 

She huffs a laugh. “I’m not promising I wouldn’t try to escape.” 

“Are you angry with me?”

“No, I get it, he’s a bully.” 

“Ah, can’t say it’s entirely his fault. I’m concerned for your safety, too.” Winston sits with her as she orders cheesy eggs and toast and orange juice. 

“If he would have just explained it better, maybe I would have compromised.”

“Unless you know how to kill someone, I’m afraid there’s little compromise for you here.” Winston pauses, rubbing at the slick surface of the bar top. 

“I’m still mad at him.” She’s not sure why she feels so comfortable talking to Winston about her relationship problems, but the man is more than happy to chat and advise. 

“I can understand that. What can I do to make you feel better?” 

“Oh, no, Mr. Scott, you’ve already done so much. I’m sorry for being like this.” 

He smiles warmly, amusement cresting the crinkles of his face. 

Normally, she’s wary of being touched, but there is nothing except reassurance in Winston’s hand rested over hers. “My dear, you are human. Flesh and bone. Your feelings and emotions are your power, no matter how overwhelming they may become. Never forget that.” 

She feels a little like she has stepped from the mortal realm into fae territory. Everything shines and dazzles, wise figures give her hopeful advice, and there is a beautiful, inhuman man terrorizing her with a small grin from across the room.

She quickly looks away from John, and Winston of course notices the pick up in nerves. 

“Do you want me to kick him out?” He asks her. 

She giggles. “Will he leave?” 

“It’s worth a try.” 

Avoiding John Wick is kind of like being a moth who hates light. 

When he looks at her, she’s looking at him. And vice versa. She tries to eat, but feels too nervous to finish with coal eyes burning the endless fire in her belly, asks for a to go box and gulps the rest of her orange juice down. 

He watches her while she walks out, sipping his black coffee, unabashedly staring directly at her beautiful bottom. 

“I’ve thought about it,” Winston tells him, taking the seat across the table. “And I believe you.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” John asks. 

Winston ignores his sour mood. “Someone is trying to frame you, Johnathan. Someone wants you dead. With eight witnesses, the high table will come for you. Especially concerning the public knowledge that Maria put a bounty on your head. This is a war that ends one way.” 

“I know.” 

“So, do something.”

————————-

“I’m sorry.” 

She turns around to find him leaning into the door jam.

“I told you I wasn’t good at this.” He motions between them. “But that’s no excuse to be an asshole.”

“I’m not good at it either, in case you didn’t notice,” she replies dryly. 

“If you get hurt, I’m not sure what I’ll do,” he admits. 

“But I can’t live like a clipped bird, John. And you’re just so forceful about it. I can’t get a word in when your mind is set. Michael has been nothing but good to me, and now I’m bailing on him. I like my job. It makes me feel like I have a purpose.”

“It’s not forever, just until I can figure this out.”

“Is it really that dangerous? If it is why did we start this in the first place?” That kind of sounds like she regrets the relationship, so she doubles back. “Sorry, that’s a stupid question. I would gladly meet you again and again, even if it meant more hardship, John, but I can’t just leave my old life.” 

He gives a deep, baritone sigh, running hands through his damp hair. 

She gets a little waft of the delicious shampoo he used, and itches to go to him. 

“Just give me a day. One day. I’m going to fix this, and I need you to trust me.”

She eyes him, makes him feel vulnerable - raw - with the power of her stare.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” It sounds more like a plead than a demand, so she provides.

“Are you just doing this because you feel like you have to? Am I inconveniencing your life even more?” 

He looks at her for a very long time.

Then, pads over and tips her chin up with his fingers. “I live in a dangerous world. I’m scared to lose you in its chaos.” 

“But is it out of obligation or-“

“It’s because I need you.”

“You need me?”

He presses his forehead against her own. “Yes.” There is frustration in his voice.

She cradles the back of his head, inhaling spice and salt, quiet and still. Some kind of storm will rage and destroy her later, but for now she can keep it at bay while he is folding her up and pressing her into the bed. 

“This doesn’t solve anything,” she says, trying not to lose her resolve in the delicious wet of his mouth. 

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, lips trailing the sensitive bridge of her ear. 

She doesn’t. Lets him gather her hair back and lick behind her lobe, turn her into a quivering little mess of a human clinging to his sweatshirt. 

He can’t get enough of her in his mouth at once, uses his hands to make up for the loss, cups her tummy and groans at how soft she is. God, he could just sink right into her and never come out. 

“This is all I wanna do,” he says. “Every time I look at you, you just get more tempting. That cute little smile, pretty skin, soft little body. Who sent you here to destroy me?” 

“Th-the FBI.” She’s smiling that sunshine smile, animosity an afterthought, pulling at her new fixation which happens to be his velvet hair, rubbing her fingers into his scalp. 

His cock gives a little jump against her thigh, and he vibrates for her again. Ah, of course it’s the hair. 

“You like it when I play with your hair?” She asks, voice hitched high and tight as he sucks down her neck. 

“Yeah,” he admits. 

“I uh, yeah, l-like your hair, Johnny.” She sloppily threads a strand around her fingers, tugging just a little. 

And to think he was contemplating getting another buzz cut because of this mess always being in his face. Not now. Now he would never cut it again. Now it was his pride and fucking joy. 

He snakes his hands under her shirt, rubs at her bare tummy, pulls and feels and groans about how fucking pillowy she is - about how a bullet would probably just bounce right off of her. 

“Fuck, I love this,” he says, making her giggle and grab his fingers. 

“Tickles,” she tells him.

Immune to bullets, but not to soft fingers digging into her plump. He can’t help the hells grin while he indulges himself and makes her a giggly, frantic mess. “Where you going? Huh?” Chasing her up the bed, pressing her against the pillows, making her scream and curse his name. 

Only a little bit of fun, and then he’s kissing her ribs, pulling her bra up to let these beautiful tits flop in his face so he can nuzzle between them. Giggles into moans, the chant of her hips matching the rhythm of mewling sounds. 

“You’re so fuckin sweet.” 

Her hands make their way back to his hair.

Big cock pressing and grinding into her giving thigh, fingers running circles around her areolas to tease, mouth nipping at the tips of her breasts. 

He gets her begging, whining, needs her to ask him for it. 

“Pretty girl wants to cum on my tongue again, huh?”

“Yeah.” Little shimmering tears in her lashes, lips all puffy and big just like her nipples. 

“Tell me. Tell me, babydoll.” 

Flooding with hot embarrassment, biting her lip, trying not to crumble and break, she does her best for him, tries her hardest to make him happy. “John, make me cum. Please.”

It’s not good enough. “Ah, ah,” he scolds. “Make you cum on what?” 

“Y-your tongue. Want your tongue. Please, fuck.” 

“There you go.” And how could he ever fucking say no? 

How could he not spend a decade between these comfy thighs eating her sweet puffy cunt nice and slow. 

Fucking her on his fingers, tickling her little clit with his tongue and making her her hips spark up off the bed, giving her rug burn on top of rug burn while she pulls his hair and curses his wicked mouth. Sometimes it hurts, especially like now when she’s too drunk on his mouth to be careful or sweet - and he fucking loves it. 

He may never be able to convince her that he’s sorry with words, but he can still use his mouth to accomplish the same goal.

By the sounds of it, she, at least for now, forgives him.

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick x plus size reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #x plus size reader #BMOS

[heartfullofleeches]

D.kay so down bad that on rare occasions that the reader does smile, D.kay suddenly becomes blind and can't see shit.

"Y/n..... I have found the name of your childhood best friend and written a report classifying them as a downer. If you do not smile twenty-four fuckin seven-" The murderbot coughs, pushing the frame of their non-existent glasses up their non-existent nose. "Excuse me. If you do not smile a considerable amount of the day, I will send this in and have them executed by gunfire at noon exactly one week from now."

"May I see that?"

"Certainly!"

You look at the paper. "Besides you using the Grammer of a twelve year old, and the fact I can tear this to shreds right now, that's actually my childhood bully."

You place your hands over your ears. 3...2....1-

"God.... DAM IT! Hope ur happy to kno I already kicked them outta window before I even came to you wit this. i did u a favor before i even new it. That's gotta count for somethin'! You gotta smile for me, Y/n. Just one - plz?"

"Maybe later. Gotta scrounge up something to eat before I head out to pick up some groceries." You brush the bot aside and continue on into the kitchen. Day in and out that's all they ever tried to do. You'd proven before you weren't a so called "downer" their company falsely listed you as by smiling and even laughing in their presence before, but those little glimpses into your happy side only made them want to make you smile for the rest of your days. It was cute at first, but if you really smiled as much as they wanted your face would get stuck in an endless grin. A win for them, but for you - not so much.

Opening the freezer, boxes of various frozen foods fall out onto the floor - the icebox stuffed to capacity with your favorite brands and treats. You check the fridge, and it's the exact same story. You hadn't gone shopping in weeks. You glance back at D.Kay who sits at the kitchen table with their arms folded like a toddler deprived of sweets - a piece of sticky tape slapped over their permanent smile scribbled with a deep frown.

"Dee... Did you get all this?"

D.Kay tilts their head as if mimicking an eye roll. "Yea??? U haven't bought shit in weeks, and i can't let my human starve. i used your bully's cash so don't worry about ur budget or whatever."

Picking up a box of popsicles off the floor, your lips tug upwards as you pull on out. "Thanks, D.Kay."

The tape covering their mouth floats to the floor. Their face scree glitches - beady, oval eyes flickering between black and pink. They rise slowly from their chair.

"Stop it..."

Popsicle hanging out your mouth, you look at them puzzled. "What?"

In a flash, the murderbot shuts the distance between you - shaking your shoulders violently with each pause. "Stop. Being. So. Fuckin. Cute! U tryin to send me back to the lab for malfunctions!?!"

"I thought me smile was a good thing."

"It is a good thing! It's the greatest god dam thing is hell rock has to offer - that's why I need to prep myself before you do it. I'm ready now - do it again!"

D.Kay snatches the popsicle stick and presses the cold bar against your lips. "Smile! I need it! You got me addicted, Y/n! Give me my fix. Give it to me!!!!"

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere #yandere android #yandere robot #yandere drabble #D.Kay my oc

[octuscle]

hey, I think I need some help. I was put in charge of my friend’s bachelor party, but I really didn’t have much time to get things together, so I went online and found a company that offered to plan everything. Had us go with this “mountain cabin” theme. The rep from the company mentioned he needed to talk to my buddy alone and we haven’t seen him since. One of the other guys went to go look for him too and we haven’t seen him in a bit either. Reason I’m asking for your help is because this cabin resort is filled with all these lumberjack types- they all look and sound the same. Plus I just saw them put up a sign about a construction project. Not sure what’s going on, but I’m worried

Buddy, just take a look at it. I would not form an opinion from the pictures on the Internet. However, you already form an opinion on the way to the lodge. In fact, there seem to be quite a few major infrastructure projects going on in the area. Looks like a dam project. In any case, the lodge is not idyllic. The road is churned up by large construction machines. When you arrive at the lodge, your car is splattered with mud. The air is filled with a concert of axes, machine saws and jackhammers. Definitely not the place you want to celebrate a bachelor party.

To your surprise, your friend comes running up to you. So… You assume that it is your friend. The facial features are at least similar. But he doesn't wear glasses. And also otherwise rather little. He shows a lot of skin. And many muscles. Fuck, last week you were just sitting on the couch, shoveling junk food into you and watching hours of Netflix. The fellow hugging you now looks like he feeds on bears he kills with his bare hands.

Bruh, good to see you, he says. Where's everyone else? The party is already in full swing. He and his new friends would have so much fun here already. He whistles impressively loud on his fingers. And your friend Christopher comes running. He also hugs you and almost crushes you. And he looks like a brother if not like his twin brother of the groom. At best, you can recognize him by details of his facial features. Crazy. Absolutely crazy!

Your friend asks Christopher to show you around a bit. He would like to do it himself. But the rocks don't blow themselves up. Christopher and he laugh out loud at the lame joke. And you wonder if your loafers will survive a walk in this muddy landscape. Christopher takes you to the cafeteria first. This is where the party will take place, he says. You look around and try not to look horrified. Bare white tables, long benches, glaring neon light. The only decoration is the hot fellows who are taking a break here. Fuck, do these lumberjacks and construction workers turn you on? Christopher puts a tray with two cups of coffee and some donuts on the table. The donuts are especially for you. Specialty of the chef. The filling is delicious! Well, you first take a sip of the coffee. It is indeed not bad. Strong and hot. Plus a bite of the sugar glazed donut. Fuck, what kind of filling is that? Slimy, white… The taste a bit like… Musk? You suppress the reflex to gag or spit. You rinse with a sip of coffee. Damn, maybe the filling is tasty after all. Christopher looks at you silently, grinning. On the third donut, you suck out the filling. You could get addicted to this stuff.

Fuck, Christopher is still sitting across from you, grinning. Wide-legged. The bulge in his shorts is indecently big. You can hardly take your eyes off it. He stands up and says that he will show you the washrooms next. And then how the donut filling is made.

Hehehe, you guessed it. Christopher makes an excellent filling for the donuts. You wonder if your friend can do it as well. Christopher asks if you would like to see your bunk now. You answer if the number in the washroom wasn't enough for him. He grins and moves forward, you follow and have trouble keeping up with his pace. Fuck, he is really incredibly fit. And his boots are of course simply better suited for the mud than your now completely dirty loafers. Shortly before the barracks, in which your bed stands, you slip in the mud. Christopher helps you up and tells you to get undressed on the verander. The two men who are taking a break there and jerking off don't look as if you should be embarrassed.

Christopher leads you into a wash lock and sprays you with a water hose. He throws you a towel. Your cock is hard as a rock. Christopher gets on his knees in front of you. And for the first time in your life a man gives you a blowjob. And with the load that you cum, two donuts could easily be filled.

Your bunk is simple and cozy. In the bed can easily have two or three men good hard sex. In your closet hang three sets of your work clothes. If you need more, there's a supply closet next to the shower rooms. You're all the same size anyway. Christopher gives you your duty roster. Tomorrow you are scheduled to chop down trees early. And as much as he'd like to spend the night with you, he has to go back to pouring concrete at the dam. It doesn't matter, you are tired anyway and fall naked into your bed.

05:00 in the morning. You don't need an alarm clock, you are a nature boy. Even behind the curtains you know when it's time to get up. A caravan sets out from the barracks in the direction of the cafeteria. If you work hard, you should have a good breakfast. Today you are assigned to the milking for the doughnut production. Some new workers are expected in the afternoon. They are to be welcomed.

And after that, it's finally time to get out into the fresh air and get to work. You love the camp. Lots of hard work for real men. And food, drink and sex. Just like an eternal bachelor party!

A picture of one of the lumberjacks found at @trefoilwombat

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #male transformation #muscle transformation

[starythewriter]

A seductress’s favorite boy toys - Damon X klaus X Y/N

WATTPAD

TW: SMUT! Slut, name calling,rough sex, possessive.

A/N: tysm for all of y’all’s support!

Here is a Damon X klaus X you! This is NOT a threesome.

But think of it as a few from a seductress and a friend of Damon and klaus, this isn’t the only time they’ve had intimate sessions with you but they enjoy every single second.

I hope you all enjoy!

“hey my darling Y/N”

you blushed as you felt klaus near you breathing heavily into your neck.

his hands wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close to him, you moaned feeling hot… Damon entered the room… you quickly turned around asking klaus to leave. you could tell klaus didn’t want to… so you gave him a kiss.

“hey Y/N… what were you doing?

using that boy toy of yours?”

you read his face he was fietsy “why are you jealous? you know… what if I had multiple?” you slowly brushed your finger tips across his V line… he quickly grabbed you pushing you onto a table. you moaned under his strong presence… “don’t play guys with me Y/N what do you want”

“you Damon…”

you moaned again slowly, as you took off your shirt playing with your nipples.

he groaned like he was thirsty for BLOOD, “Y/N… don’t do this… what will

klaus do if he finds out? I don’t want him to hurt you”

“that’s none of your concern Damon…. plus just admit that his lust would cloud any harm he could do to me just as it does for you”

you whisper those words to him, slowly kissing him, he quickly undresses, you moan louder slowly kissing his abs. you can feel his member harden in the pants he has on, you slowly remove the rest of your clothes.your eyes were closed and he gently kissed your lips, you then reversed he was now on the table, you slowly started to ride his raw cock. “fuck… your so dam pretty darling… I just can’t resist you”

“ I know Damon you couldn’t move a finger to hurt me”

“Oh someone’s a little egotistical”

“really Damon?… none of you have hurt me”

you say I’m a bratty voice, slowly moaning as he continues to kiss you with more passion.

Damon slowly grinds aganist you taking in your eyes and examining your body. ‘I want you so bad…’You start to rock up and down on him, making his dick twitch against the thin fabric covering your clit.‘please let’s not keep Klaus waiting…

you start to grind faster, you both are so close to reaching your breaking point, ‘just another second… ‘ you moan as you feel his cock throbbing against your pussy’s walls, ‘just one more inch’ you thought as you feel his fingers brushing against your opening, ‘one more inch… ‘ you reach your peak…’then it happened…I’m coming! you moan… Damon looks so lewd… you both slowly finish with a makeout “I’ll see you again soon Damon.”

he vanishes immediately… as klaus enters “had fun darling?”

“yes daddy…”

“get on your knees Y/N”

you blush slowly kissing the sharp jawline that klaus had.

‘oh god, how long has it been since i felt his touch… or his lips… or his cock’ you think looking at the small scar that runs from his eyebrow to his chin.“good girl…”Klaus said placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing it lightly with his thumb. slowly klaus kissed you again, he quickly got undressed, you tried to seduce him but he threw you into the bed doggy style.

“take this my slut… I’m gonna make you forget him”

you moaned loudly as klaus entered you.

you quickly realized that this was different than the other times. it hurt more… and klaus seemed more desperate… he was moving quicker than usual and his thrusts were deeper… he was hitting your prostate harder, as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“klaus-“

“Y/N…. your so tight” you quickly felt yourself cumming as klaus’ thrusts became faster and harder. “ahh.. y/n… fuck!”klaus collapsed on top of you.“I love you klaus…”you whispered softly as he pulled away leaving marks on your chest.“good night y/n!

#damon salvatore #damon salvarote #klaus mikaelson masterlist #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus x reader #damon smut #send in concepts #smutty #smut #tvd klaus #tvd damon #damon x reader #klaus x y/n #klaus x you

[lensandpenpress]

Springfield’s Sequiota Park, once a Fish Hatchery

Springfield’s Sequiota Park, once a Fish Hatchery

Domino Danzero photograph, circa 1922, of his family picnicking at Sequiota Park. In spite of changes in name, ownership, and utilization, the cave and spring at Sequiota Park still retain a natural ambience that visitors find picturesque. In 2011 the Springfield-Greene County Park Board held a ribbon cutting ceremony for the completion of a $1.8 million “facelift to the much-needed natural water…

View On WordPress

#Domino Danzero #Fisher Cave #James Fork of the White #Sequiota Park #Shepherd of the Hills Trout Hatchery #Springfield Missouri #Table Rock Dam

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

Leona Kingscholar x Zira Reader Part 1/2

Hey guys, it's me, murd3r0u5S1l0u3tt3. My old phone broke so I made a new account... Anyways, enjoy.

Zira is the main antagonist of Lion King 2. She was one of Scar's followers and is the mother of Nuka, Vitani, and Kovu. She resented Simba and sought to end the lives of those who are allies of the Pride Rock by using Kovu but failed. She died after falling and drowning in a dam.

I'm gonna imagine them as one of the Savanaclaw students. You held a rather obsessive admiration for Leona that can rival Rook's obsession with Vil. You are also loyal to him... Too loyal. During the Savanaclaw Arc, some Savanaclaw students' mouths went off on and on about how they are going to win because of Leona's plan against Diasomnia very loudly. You immediately shut them up by sending them to the infirmary. Leona scolded you because now Savanaclaw have less players now.

"What do you mean just scold them? Dorm leader, you know that my loyalty belongs to you, and only you. Why would I just let those mice run off like that?" "Zira, I'm tired of all the bullshit coming out of your mouth. What makes you no different from them?" Honestly, Leona didn't even ask for your admiration, he found you annoying as a follower. You're even worse than Rook for Seven's sakes!

After that argument, your mood worsend and you're dragging your dormmates along with you. Although too scared to even face you, one of your youngest brothers asked if he could study at a friend's dorm. "Friend? What friend? You don't even know anyone aside from me, your siblings, and dorm leader Leona? And what makes you think I'll let you go to another dorm?""U-um... They're at Diasomnia...so can i--" "DIASOMNIA?!" Your brother flinched the second after hearing you roar curses to said dorm. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! INTERACTING WITH ANOTHER STUDENT FROM A RIVAL DORM?!! THEY COULD HAVE EATEN YOU ALIVE!!!" "I...i-im sorry...i promise I wont--" "What would you expect?! They'll welcome you into their dorm with open arms?! Ha! What an idea-- Wait..."

You suddenly become silent and a cruel smile showed on your face. "...That's...That's a great IDEA!!!" "...Huh?" Your brother is now confused as you stopped yelling and then started hugging and praising him. "Such a great idea! You're a genius devil! You really are suited for this dorm, dorm leader Leona would be proud..." You thought of a horrible plan to use your brother and infiltrate Diasomnia to injure more students. Ruggie, however, heard all of it since you could be so loud during one of your mood swings and reported it back to Leona.... As much as he wants to go with your plan, he doesn't want to target Savanaclaw as suspicious.

During lunch, you ate at a far table with your brothers, talking about how one of them will infiltrate the rival dorm inside and the other will spy outside and report back to you. Your discussion is now interrupted by a hand slamming on your table. The entire cafeteria went silent as they awaited your wrath, you are now pissed but if it were another student and not Leona himself, they'd be covered from head to toe with huge scratch marks...That is if they'd have remaining toes left after interacting with you. "Why, if it isn't the dorm leader! What can i--" "Enough with your formality crap and follow me. We need to TALK." Leona growled.

You meet at the botanical garden, most likely skipping class. Leona ordered you and your brothers to back off and that Ruggie will do the rest. After that he just left, you are just standing there, furious. Your younger brother asked if you were ok-- "BACK OFF? WHAT DOES HE MEAN BACK OFF?! HE HAD THE NERVE TO ROAR AT ME WHILE I'M TRYING TO DO WHAT'S BEST FOR SAVANACLAW?! WHAT'S BEST FOR US?!!!" You clawwed and scratched trees and bushes left and right. Your brothers finally calmed you down. "....You know what? We'll no longer wait for him. I WILL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO DRAW BLOOD FROM HIS HORNS. And then... Leona will finally acknowledge me..."

Timeskip to the part where Leona's about to Overblot. You gave him the final shove. You thought you were loyal...You thought you were making progress...You thought you meant something to him... But all that doesn't matter now. After Leona turned the coliseum to sand, debris trapping your brother...."I..I..I'm sorry, nii-chan.….I tried....to help....him...." You will never forget the day of what that cowardly excuse of a beastmen did to him. "Shhh... It wasn't your fault. It's alright. You can rest now."

#Twisted Wonderland x reader #Twisted Wonderland x Zira Reader #Twisted wonderland x Beastman reader #Twst x reader #Leona Kingscholar x reader

[saetoshis]

[‹ @divilyn ›] yuta's such a closeted perv whenever he’s asked what his type is he stumbles over his words and nobody takes him seriously. it works out for him though, you dont suspect him to be the reason your bras and underwear keep disappearing or why he acts so differently around you than the others. you just think he’s sweet and is just shy, you have no idea he’s constantly thinking of filthy thoughts that all include cute little you

HE'S SO NASTY! [‹ kickoff request event ›]

[‹ WITH ›] pervy best friend!yuuta!

[‹ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS ›]

fem!reader, college au, mentions of masturbation, yuuta lets you borrow his t-shirt then fucks you in it, he asks for consent, tongue sucking, praise

yuuta thinks he's about to break one of these days.

he's not sure how much more he can take - he knows that he shouldn't think about you in such a dirty way, but he can't help it! every time you bend over to pick something up and your panties peek out from under your skirt, or when you lean across the table to help him with his studying and your tits spill out over the top of your shirt, he just can't help how hard he gets at the sight.

there have been far too many close calls - moments where your arm brushes up against him, or you look up at him with those meek little eyes of yours, and he has to practically sprint to the bathroom to jerk off while the memories of those experiences are still fresh in his head.

one day yuuta thinks he finally can't take it anymore - especially not with how cute you look wearing one of his big t-shirts during one of your weekly movie nights, which he begrudgingly gave you after you practically begged out whines of "but yours are just so much more comfortable than mine are!"

his cock eagerly pokes up in his sweatpants as you nuzzle onto him, the loose fabric of his shirt hugging along your curves so darlingly. it's when you innocently drape your thigh over his lap that the dam inside of him breaks, his hands moving unconsciously to cage you under his frame.

"y-yuuta?" you mutter with wide eyes, taken aback as the pieces of the puzzle slowly but surely take their place on the board. one glance down at his hips and it all comes together - his thick bulge presses through the gray fabric, and you can't help the jolt of heat flitting down your spine at the sheer size. "oh..."

"fuck, i've seriously wanted you for so long," yuuta coos against your lips, one hand cradling your pretty face as his fingers shake at the titillating thought of just ruining you. it was in the palm of his hand, and he knew that once you said 'yes', he wasn't gonna be able to hold back. "if it's okay..."

"y-yeah," you respond, keening into his touch as a hot flush pervades across your skin. all in one moment, yuuta's soft touches tap into something filthier - his hands drag over your body as if he were trying to memorize every inch, lips wet with saliva as they move fervently on yours.

your every soft whine and sigh on his skin makes him so ridiculously hard, and it doesn't take long until he's got his big shirt yanked up above your chest as his cock slips inside of your pussy. both of you gasp into each others mouths as he bottoms out, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he ruts his hips like a man possessed.

"so pretty like this for me," yuuta mutters against your drooling mouth, your moans and whimpers boggling in his ears as his cock presses up into the hilt of your pussy with each rocking thrust. the room spins as time passes by in slow motion, pleasure flooding in his body like a surging wave. "shit- can't take much more, you feel so good..."

yuuta's muscles shudder as his hips smack into yours brashly, his orgasm twitching in his cock from the sheer filthiness of this dream-come-reality. he's gasping and moaning out babbles of 'gonna cum, gonna cum for you', hand dragging along his cock as you suck eagerly on his tongue. grunts tumble out from his mouth, ropes of cum shooting white onto your chest and painting his shirt that you borrowed.

once he comes down from the euphoria, it's like a flip switches and he's back to normal - coddling you and promising to give you a new t-shirt of his that doesn't have cum and sweat all over it.

2022 MUZANS.

tagging: @bvnnichuu

#not me going completely off the prompt tbh but whatever LMFAODSA #do i like this? no i do not #LMFAOD either way here u go cadie !! #[‹ he's so nasty! event ›] #[‹ moshi : writes ›] #[‹ moshi's favs : cadie ›] #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader

[cariantha]

A Chance Encounter (2/3)

Book: Open Heart (Pre-Series) Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Warning: Implied sexual activity Category: Fluff Word count: 3.3K Series Summary: Ten years before meeting at Edenbrook, Ethan and Sawyer have a chance encounter during spring break.

A/N: Artwork by the incredible @/artbyainna on Instagram.

Chapter Summary: Knowing the odds of ever seeing each other again, Ethan and Sawyer throw caution to the wind and spend a magical night together.

Part One

Part Two: The Hook-Up

January 2023 - Miami, Florida

“And I’m beginning to realize…” Ethan paused, reaching for Sawyer’s wine glass and placing it along with his own on the patio table behind him, “There are some things that are worth any risk.” 

Though it was winter, the cooler Miami temperature was as comfortable as a summer night in Boston. But Ethan wasn’t thinking about home. With the moonlit backdrop of the Atlantic Ocean, a scene from his past began to play out before him. 

When he turned back to Sawyer, he met her hopeful eyes. Reflecting the bright, silver moonlight, they looked just like sea glass.

It had been six months since the mystery woman he met a decade ago in East Hampton, New York found her way back into his life. If Sawyer had any memory of those days at the beach, she had kept it tucked away. When her shaky hand cupped his dark stubbled cheek, Ethan was suddenly desperate to remind her. “Sawyer, I…” 

“I know,” she said softly, never breaking their intense gaze. 

Immense relief coursed through him as he closed his eyes and leaned into her caressing touch. With that long-awaited admission, Ethan’s remaining reservations were drowned out by overwhelming lust for the woman he had dreamt of for years. When his eyes opened again, the dam built of steadfast resolve finally broke.

In an instant, she was finally - after all this time - back in his arms. His mouth covered hers in an intense kiss. He held his lips to hers for many heartbeats, needing to make up for lost time. 

“Dr. Ramsey, you’re–”

“Ethan,” he insisted. There was no need for formality anymore. They no longer had to pretend they were only ever co-workers. Their pact of anonymity became null and void the day Sawyer walked through the doors of Edenbrook Hospital.

Time was a blur as a frenzy of hands and mouths allowed their bodies to become reacquainted. After a clumsy, lip-locked dance across the balcony, Ethan fell back into a cushioned patio chair. Sawyer lowered herself onto his lap and began slowly rocking her hips against his, matching the lapping rhythm of the shore. 

“Sawyer, I’ve never done anything like this. Ever. This is—” He needed her to know he would never take advantage of his position of authority. He would never take advantage of her in any capacity. Hell, it’s why he had kept this memory to himself to begin with. But he could no longer deny their history. Their attraction. Their connection. 

Sawyer stopped him mid-sentence, placing her hand over his pounding heart. She then took his hand and held it between the valley of her breasts, and he completely forgot what he was going to say. Instead, he sighed contentedly. “You… feel amazing.” 

His blonde temptation smiled coyly. “Wait ‘til you feel the rest of me.”

Her confusing words and a perfectly timed chilly gust of ocean breeze released him from her spell. What does she mean by that? Ethan quickly replayed the last few minutes, realizing he may have made an erroneous assumption. When Sawyer said “I know” was she referring to their past or acknowledging their current and undeniable attraction to one another? The jolting thought made him face the harsh realities of their situation yet again. She was an intern. He was her boss. This can’t happen no matter their history.

March 2012 - East Hampton, New York

The day after her best friend's accident, Christian headed into the big city with her employer on official nanny duty. Having stayed behind, Sawyer took the opportunity to walk to town and explore the local shops and eateries. She enjoyed window shopping at high-end stores catering to wealthy vacationers and locals. But wearing cut-off jean shorts, a tank top, and flip-flop sandals, she didn’t dare go inside fearing a “Pretty Woman” scene the moment a salesperson sized her up. 

Deciding it was time for a morning pick-me-up, Sawyer made her way to the crowded Starbucks on the corner. She was about to follow a couple of hoity-toity customers inside when a row of quaint boutiques across the street caught her eye, a little coffee shop nestled between them. She looked both ways before dashing across the bustling thoroughfare, eager to try something different.

The bell on the door rang as she opened it, drawing the attention of several patrons. As Sawyer surveyed the charming and seemingly popular cafe, her face lit up when she saw Ethan at the back of the order line. 

Also excited by the surprise meeting, Ethan let the older woman behind him go first so he could stand next to Sawyer in line.

“I didn't take you for a coffee guy," she greeted.

"I'm a med student, remember? We only function on coffee or energy drinks. I prefer coffee."

“And why this place over that one?” she wondered, tilting her head toward the large bay window. The siren in the middle of the familiar green logo smiled back at them.

“In my experience, local coffee shops have better quality coffee. And they tend to be much quieter. There’s a lesser-known place close to campus where I like to go to study. The owner is from Hawaii and occasionally serves an amazing Kona.”

“In other words, you’re a coffee snob,” she poked fun.

Ethan shrugged unoffended.

The barista took their orders when they reached the counter. “Are these together?”  

“Yes,” they both answered at the same time. 

“Let me,” Sawyer turned to Ethan. “I owe you one for your help yesterday.” 

But Ethan wouldn’t have it. “It’s on me,” he overruled, handing his debit card to the barista.  

Moving out of the way for the next customer, Sawyer thanked him for the coffee. “That was sweet. But I still owe you. I might just have to give you one of those private surf lessons for free," she smiled coyly.

Clearing his throat, "Speaking of… how's the leg?" 

"It's bruised and tender,” she shifted her body to show him. “I found some of that same ointment at the house and rebandaged the big cut this morning."

Ethan nodded satisfied.

Sipping from their to-go cups, they stepped out of the small eatery together. Hoping to extend their time together with a walk home, Ethan asked which direction she was headed. 

Looking down the street, she answered, “I was going to take this way around. I wanted to check out a few more of the sights.”

“Care for some company?” Ethan asked hopefully.

Sawyer couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face when she turned her head to respond. “I’d love some.”

Strolling through the village-like setting, they chatted about all sorts of things, especially medical school. With a big decision to make soon, Sawyer wanted to know more about the application process, Ethan’s favorite classes, and his plans after graduation.

“Wait, seriously? I’ve heard of Dr. Banerji! I recently read one of his case studies for my Viruses and Application for Biological Systems class. Wow, I hope things work out and you get the chance to work with him,” Sawyer commented with sincerity.

Spotting a gift shop with tacky tchotchkes and souvenirs, she tugged on his arm to follow her inside. They browsed the displays, making a game of who could find the most ridiculous item. Ethan was determined to outdo himself every time simply to hear her lovely, melodic laughter. He found her minutes later flipping through a rack of novelty t-shirts. Ethan mindlessly flicked through shirts on the opposite side. He found it endearing how she giggled at the silly ones, and more than once their eyes met over the clothing rack, eliciting shy smiles.

When they exited the store, Sawyer handed him a bag. “Here.”

“What’s this?” he furrowed his brow in question.

“Open it,” she instructed.

Ethan pulled a white t-shirt from the bag. The red print said “LIFEGUARD,” and below the cross symbol it said “The Hamptons.” 

“I know it’s cheesy, but I owe you a new shirt and you did come to my rescue,” she explained. 

With a nod of appreciation, “Thanks. You didn’t need to do this,” he said, tucking the shirt back into the bag. 

As they trekked through the neighborhood, their conversation continued to flow effortlessly, like they could share anything and everything without hesitation. Sawyer made him smile often with her carefree playfulness and gentle teasing. Not an easy feat if you ask those who knew him well. Likewise, Ethan made her laugh, even snort a few times, with his dry humor and quick wit. They walked just inches apart, their hands brushing together so many times it no longer felt accidental. 

It felt like they had been walking and talking for hours, but it all came to an end too soon when they reached his driveway.

“Thanks for the coffee and company.” She looked nervously at her feet before continuing, “It sucks that you’re leaving tomorrow. Maybe we can–”

"Hey! Is that you, Gidge?” Tobias interrupted as he came outside to unload party supplies from his Jeep. “I see you've met Moondoggie here.”

"What the hell are you talking about, Carrick?" Ethan glared at him. 

"It's from an old movie," Sawyer helped to explain.

"Gigde, we're throwing a beach bash later tonight–”

“We are?” Ethan interrupted with a vexed look on his face. 

“You and your friend should come," Tobias continued, ignoring his roommate.

"We'd love to come to your orgy… I mean luau, Kahuna," she played along. 

Ethan just looked between the two of them, the movie references completely lost on him. 

Tobias elbowed him playfully, "I like this one, man.”

Rolling her eyes, Sawyer turned back to Ethan, “Later then?"

Ethan nodded and put his hand up to say goodbye as she continued down the road.

The back of the Jeep was stockpiled with several cases of beer and brown paper bags with various assortments of liquor bottles. “Jesus Christ. How many people did you invite over?” Ethan groaned.

Shrugging, Tobias responded, “Who was counting?” 

Ethan jumped when he felt fingers slide into his back pocket. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, swatting his annoying friend's hand away. 

Tobias patted Ethan’s ass where he deposited a strip of square foil-wrapped packets. “Just making sure you’re prepared for later.” 

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Christian had to put the kids to sleep before going off the clock for the night. By the time Sawyer and her best friend finally made their way next door, the party was in full swing.

As the ladies made their way to the kitchen for drinks, Sawyer’s eyes swept each room they passed, hoping to spot a familiar face. Every room was crowded with college-age partiers, most of whom looked like snobby rich kids. Guys wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts, and who sported expensive watches, mingled with women wearing tight, short dresses, with blown-out hair and manicured nails. Sawyer wasn’t sure if they’d been invited to a spring break party or a country club clambake.

“Gidge! You made it,” Tobias greeted, throwing an arm around her shoulder as he squeezed in between the two friends. 

“Kahuna,” she acknowledged. 

“Let me introduce my boys, Stinky and Lover Boy,” he joked, nodding to his pals. “Moondoggie, who you’ve met, is around here somewhere. Probably sulking in a corner.”

“Annnd, I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Sawyer’s friend laughed, “but, I’m Christian.”

Tobias looked her up and down, then said with a smirk, “Challenge accepted, angel. We’ll make a sinner of you before the night is over.”  

A while later, Ethan came out of hiding and weaved his way through the party. He scanned the many faces gathered in nearly every room on the first floor of the mansion, searching for a pair of brilliant green eyes. But as luck would have it, they kept barely missing each other. No sooner had he left the room than she entered. After a couple of passes, Ethan grabbed a beer from the kitchen, and with a disappointed sigh, he made his way outside. 

Sawyer stayed by her friend's side for a while until Tobias wrapped his arm around Christian's shoulders and led her away for a dance. With a beer of her own, Sawyer ventured outside to get some fresh air. On the far end of the deck was a spiral staircase that led to a second-story balcony. Hoping to at least enjoy the view of the moonlit ocean while she worked through her own disappointment, she coiled up the stairs. When she reached the top step, she saw Ethan leaning on the railing, looking sullen and staring out to the water.

"Oh! Hey,” she tried to contain her sudden excitement, “Sorry. I didn't realize anyone was up here."

"Hi," his voice sounded glad to see her.

"Mind if I join you?"

Ethan shook his head.

"Not much of a party guy, huh?" Sawyer asked, joining him at the railing. 

"It's not really my scene."

“Oh? And what kind of scene do you prefer?”

Ethan slightly shifted his body toward her. “Coffee and conversation. A stroll through the neighborhood. Beers on the porch,” he answered, clinking the neck of his bottle against hers.

With knowing smiles, they each took a swig of beer, then fell back into the same comfortable conversation as earlier in the day. There was an undeniable connection between them and, as if they both came to that same realization, a timid silence settled between them. 

This was the moment, the one where someone made a move or made an excuse to head back downstairs. Ethan pushed off the railing and stood up straight, setting his beer bottle on the railing. Sawyer followed his lead, doing the same. When she turned to face him, a gust of ocean breeze blew her hair into her eyes. Ethan's fingers were there in an instant to help push it away, and after tucking it behind her ear, his hand lingered on the side of her face. Sawyer wrapped her hand around his wrist to hold it in place as their eyes met in contemplation.

Ethan considered whether the instant gratification was worth it, knowing it would make their inevitable goodbye that much harder. Given their current realities, he was under no illusion that this would be anything more than a spring break fling. But the voice of reason was drowned out by the overwhelming need to taste her lips and feel her skin under his fingertips. In that instant, he decided the reward far outweighed the risk. 

During those few seconds of hesitation, Sawyer made her mind up too. When she wrapped her other hand around the back of his neck, the dam broke. 

Though their lips were eager to meet, their first kiss was not hurried. It started soft and slow. Ethan pulled back after a moment to gauge Sawyer’s reaction, seeing the smile in her eyes. When he felt the gentle tug on the back of his neck urging him to return to her lips, he angled his head to the other side and kissed her again. Sawyer parted her lips, inviting him deeper. Their kisses grew in intensity, and the longer they stayed lip-locked, the more desperate they became for more.

Tongues still dancing together, Ethan clumsily backed them away from the railing and toward a reclining chaise lounge. Mindful of her wounded leg, he laid down so that Sawyer could straddle him. 

Eager to feel more of him, Sawyer lifted his shirt over his head. As her fingers dragged over the contradiction of velvety skin and concrete muscle, Ethan’s fingers found their way under the hem of her shirt. The lower hers traveled, the higher his went. When she reached the button of his jeans, Sawyer hesitated.

His hands instantly dropped to hers, tenderly wrapping them in his own. “If you want to stop, we can. This is probably a terrible idea given the odds of seeing each other again.”

The fact that he was being so considerate only made her want him more. If she was going to check this experience off of her college bucket list, she wanted to do it with him. 

Staring down at their joined hands, she shook her head. “No, I want to. I’m just a little nervous,” she confessed, looking up with a shy smile. “And honestly, the fact that we probably won’t see each other again seems like a good enough excuse to just give in. No strings attached. No complications,” she assured him. “Do you? Want to stop?” 

“Hell no. I want you,” he insisted, squeezing her hands. “It’s just… I don’t usually do this sort of thing… but I just can’t seem to get enough of you.” Ethan rubbed the knuckles of her hand with his thumb. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. No pressure.”

His eyes spoke nothing but the truth, and in response, Sawyer weaved her fingers through his. She then pushed their joined hands over his head, leaning down to capture his mouth in a heated kiss. 

When things turned red hot again, Sawyer murmured against his lips. “Do you have–”

“In my back pocket,” he whispered, letting go of her hands.

Sawyer laughed as she reached underneath him and shimmied her hand into his pocket. “For someone who doesn’t do this sort of thing–” 

“Let’s just say my roommate is the type to do this and wanted everyone to be prepared tonight,” Ethan defended, plucking the foil packets from her fingers. “As much as I hate to give him the satisfaction, I’ll have to remember to thank him later.” 

The stars in the night sky replaced the ones behind her eyes after experiencing something she could only describe as magical. Feeling as though she had finally descended back to Earth, Sawyer shifted in Ethan’s arms, attempting to disentangle herself and stand up.

“Not yet,” he begged, locking her up in his limbs.

She inhaled the scent of his bare skin and placed a kiss over his still thundering heart, “Okay.”

The ocean mist cooled their flushed skin as they stole gentle kisses from each other, hoping the next wouldn’t have to be the last. Propping herself up on an elbow, Sawyer stared down into Ethan’s moonlit eyes.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“It’s just… you’ve been so amazing, and I don’t even know your name,” she giggled.

Caressing the side of her face, “Let’s keep it that way. It will be easier to let each other go. No complications, remember?” 

Nodding in agreement, “Okay. No complications,” she echoed. Sawyer repeated the mantra in her head several times as she reluctantly pried herself free of Ethan’s embrace. “I should find my friend before she starts to worry.”

“Right.”

They handed each other pieces of clothing and got dressed. Standing in front of each other, Sawyer reached up and took Ethan’s face in her hands, offering him a final kiss goodbye. Ethan swept his hands over her hair and held her head as he returned the sentiment, not letting go until they were both out of breath. 

Slowly they pulled away. Sawyer took a few steps backward, before finally turning her back to him and walking away. Before descending the spiral staircase, she turned her head and met Ethan’s gaze. “Bye, Moondoggie.”

“Bye… Gidge?” he tried to remember. 

With an affirmative nod and final wave, Sawyer winded her way down the stairs. 

She found Christian inside, sitting on Tobias’ lap. They were watching and laughing as Stinky, whose real name she thought was Andrew, sang a horrible karaoke rendition of Gotye’s “Somebody that I Used to Know.” 

When Christian spotted her friend in the doorway, she whispered to Tobias that she’d be right back. “Hey! Are you good? Have you been having fun?”

“Yep,” Sawyer beamed uncontrollably. 

“Hold up,” Christian looked her up and down, “Sawyer, did you…?” 

Sawyer eagerly shook her head in the affirmative. 

“You and your lifeguard?” 

Sawyer nodded again. 

“Eeeek! Girl, how was it? Are you okay?”

“I’m good. Really good. It was incredible.”

Part 3: The Realization

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

[stobinesque]

the firmament in you ✨

For Lex’s Spicy Six Summer Challenge! Thanks again for putting this together, @thefreakandthehair! rating: T | wc: 4k | cw: Insomnia, Sleep Paralysis, Suicidal Ideation, References to past self-harm, hurt/comfort | tags: Stobin, Stargazing, Dancing, Post-Season 3 prompt: Dancing under the stars [ FIC PLAYLIST ] [ READ ON AO3 ]

Robin stares up at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark stars she’d stuck there when she was a kid winking back at her. The only sounds she can hear are the hum of the box fan in her window, and the rasp of cicadas beyond it. She’s resolutely refusing to turn her head to the side and face the blinking numbers of her clock taunting her.

Every time she closes her eyes, she sees smug faces leering down at her. Feels Steve’s dead—not dead, just slack, just passed out—weight strapped to her. She invents horrors that never happened.

If she keeps her eyes wide open, she only catches it in snatches and brief whispers.

Who needs sleep, anyway?

She thinks maybe the meat-monster spider should be getting more traction in the waking nightmares of her insomnia. And there are certainly times when she squeezes her eyes shut and fireworks burst behind them to a soundtrack of shrieks and groans and echoing fears. But they haunt her far less than the memory of cold fear gripping her chest when she thought, for just a moment, that she had a corpse tied to her back.

She moves to burrow herself into Steve’s side, hoping his warmth might trick her brain into thinking she’s safe.

It’s not a trick. We are safe.

There’s no way of knowing that for certain.

There’s no way of knowing anything for certain.

She rests her head on Steve’s chest and feels his heart rabbiting against her cheek. It makes her lever herself right back up to get a look at his face. She can barely see it in the darkness of the room, but the pale light of the streetlamps filtering in through her curtains is just enough to make out the way his eyes are darting back and forth beneath his eyelids. His breathing is coming in ragged pants, broken up by the occasional pained moan. Fine tremors course through him, like he’s fighting against something, but can’t actually move.

Robin’s own heart kicks up to a racing beat. Steve has spent the past couple weeks trying to explain the last two years of horror to her, and she can’t help the panicked thoughts that start running through her head. What if it’s back? What if it never left? What if it has Steve? Because apparently possession was totally on the table in their lives.

“Steve? Steve! Can you hear me? You’ve gotta wake up.”

His eyes stutter open like he’s being dragged to wakefulness. Hazel eyes stare back at her; unadulterated fear glinting in them. The small whines and groans he’d been making shift into muffled humming, like someone trying to talk through a gag. Like he’s trying to say something, but can’t form his mouth into words.

Robin is seconds away from grabbing the phone off her nightstand and calling anyone and everyone who might be able to help—wishing she had a walkie instead to radio out an all-purpose Code Red—when the dam breaks, and Steve sucks in a giant gasp of air and jerks upright like he’s surfacing from underwater.

“Steve! Steve, are you okay? Are you there?” She’s gripping his shoulder so tight that her nails are biting into flesh, but she can’t loosen her hold on him because if she lets go, he’ll float away.

“Couldn’t—” he gasps out. “Couldn’t move.” He’s nearly hyperventilating; chest heaving as he sucks in big gulps of air like he’s just been drowning. “Tied up. Frozen. I can’t—” He bites out each word like it hurts to speak. “Robs, I can’t—” He breaks off as something seems to crack in him, and collapses into her chest with a muffled sob.

“Hey, it’s alright,” she murmurs, trying to force her voice low and comforting as she wraps an arm around him. “I’ve got you.” She rocks him back and forth, gently, like she’s trying to coax a scared child back to sleep. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s all over now.”

It has the bitter taste of a lie on her tongue, but she just has to pretend that it’s true for now. Between the two of them, they can just barely afford a scrap of empty hope.

“—The kids are safe, and the gate is closed.” She knows Steve won’t really accept that until he sees everyone with his own eyes. But they’ve gotten used to telling each other these kinds of lies in the dead of night.

The band that’s been tightening around her chest snaps, and a tidal wave of exhaustion crashes over her. Sleep is all but a lost cause for the night, but they’ve each been at their wit’s end since Starcourt, and the unending turmoil of it all is finally catching up to her.

“I’m so tired,” she whispers into Steve’s hair.

“Robs.” his voice is croaky—strangled with some emotion she can’t quite place—and a calloused thumb sweeps across her cheek. She hadn’t realized she’d started crying.

“I’m tired too,” he admits. He lets out a shaky exhale. “I just want it all to be over.”

Fear catches in her throat. The way he says it makes her think he’s not just talking about the monsters and the torture. She remembers the scars she’d found littered across the skin of his thighs the other day. Remembers tracing a finger over them gently; begging him to never leave her.

The fear she felt in that moment is still lodged in her, tucked firmly behind her heart. But in the grey emptiness of the witching hour, she thinks she understands him.

“We should get out of here,” she says, not really knowing the scope of what she means when she says it.

“Where would we go?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Anywhere? Paris, maybe.”

Steve laughs, but it’s watery. “Might be hard to do on short notice.”

“Let’s just drive then. See where the road takes us.”

Steve sits up and looks at her, expression open and honest. “I mean…I’ve got the Beemer back. We could, if you wanted?”

Robin hooks her fingers through his. “Maybe just for the night?”

They sneak through the house, careful not to wake her parents. They haven’t bothered to change, so Steve’s still wearing an old marching band shirt and checked boxers; Robin, a Hawkins Swim Team shirt with a worn neck, and a pair of Steve’s sweatpants.

They pile into the car silently, Robin curling into the passenger seat, tucking her socked feet underneath her, and resting her head against the window. Through some unspoken agreement, neither of them makes a move to try to pick through Steve’s glove compartment of mixtapes. Steve just reaches over to tune the radio until he lands on something that seems to suit his mood well enough, and turns to her with a questioning tilt of his brow.

…because a vision softly creeping / left its seeds while I was sleeping / and the vision that was planted in my brain / still remains…

Robin’s breath hitches, and she turns to look at Steve, whose face is now glowing in the light of the streetlamps. His hands tighten on the wheel, and the corners of his mouth are drawn tight. She doesn’t want to ask what he saw. She thinks she can guess. Even with the whole gallery of horrors his mind has to choose from, she thinks there’s only one that would leave him paralyzed.

The song bleeds into another as Steve pulls out of her driveway, a soft bass line humming beneath a lilting guitar riff, filling up the car like it has physical presence. It leaves an ache in Robin’s chest, and she reaches out with a shaky hand, laying it palm up on the center console. Steve’s slots home a moment later.

They pull up to the quarry. The chorus of crickets and cicadas echo so loudly it’s like they’re the only sound left in the universe, even though she can still hear the music drifting like smoke from the radio (stars fade, but I linger on…)

“Here?” Robin turns to Steve with a frown. She tries not to think about them standing together at the precipice. Tries not to think about the drop. Tries not to think about how much a part of her wants it.

L ’appel du vide.

The thought scares her, and she has to force herself to back away from it.

Steve meets her gaze with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “There’s a clear view of the sky,” he says. “Thought we could stargaze.”

Robin’s face twists up into an expression she doesn’t think she could put a name to, even if she was looking in a mirror. Eyebrows scrunched, lips twitching upward. She feels some funny mix of fondness and bemusement, tangled up with love. “You wanna go stargazing?”

Steve shrugs. “Figured you’d rather see the real things.”

Robin doesn’t say anything, just stares at him. In defiance of all sense, Steve always drifts to sleep fairly quickly—his troubles are always with staying there than getting there—so she’s had no reason to think he’d noticed her tendency to go cross-eyed staring up at the stars on her ceiling.

“That…that would be great, yeah.”

Steve nods once, decisively, and turns the engine off, but leaves the car on so the radio keeps playing. Robin steps outside, wiggling her toes where she stands. She stretches them out wide; presses them down against the rough, rocky ground.

“C’mon, hop up.”

Robin jerks her head around at Steve’s voice. He’s produced a threadbare quilt from somewhere and is throwing it onto the hood of the car, before climbing up and patting the empty space next to him. Robin settles at his side and under his wing.

“So. Tell me about the stars.”

Robin looks up at him. “What do you wanna know?”

Steve shrugs, rustling her hair. “Dunno. They’re all, like, stories, right? Tell me one.”

Robin hums, considering. “Okay.” She grabs Steve’s hand, arranging his fingers so he’s pointing up at a spot in the western sky, a bit above the horizon. “See that group of stars up there? Looks kind of like two trapezoids smushed together, with little spokes coming out from the corners?”

“I…think so? Maybe?”

“It’s kind of hard to find sometimes, because there aren’t any, like, super super bright stars in it like there are in a lot of the other big constellations? Tonight’s a pretty good night for it, though, especially out here away from all the streetlights. And the new moon, too—it’s always harder to see things when the moon’s out—she’s so bright, you know?” Robin directs Steve’s hand along the constellation’s path. “If you wanna do this again some time I can bring my laser from home and help point things out to you that way.”

Steve nods against the top of her head. “I’d like that.” He lets his hand drop back down between them, but keeps their fingers entwined. “So, which one is that supposed to be?”

“Hercules,” she says. She raises their hands again to continue tracing over the constellation’s shape as she speaks. “That’s his head. And those are his legs—he’s kneeling—and sometimes people draw him with a club in that arm.”

Steve hums. “He was like…some big hero guy, right? Had to kill a bunch of monsters as, like, his job or something?”

Robin chuckles. “That’s not really what ‘labor’ means in this context, but yeah, that’s the basic gist. His whole story’s actually pretty long and complicated, though.” She rubs her thumb over the back of Steve’s hand. “Hercules—or, really, Heracles, if we’re talking Greek myth; the constellation is just named Hercules because that’s the one people know—anyway, he’s kind of cursed from the beginning. His mom gets pregnant with him after Zeus tricks her into sleeping with him, and then Hera—that’s Zeus’ wife—basically makes it her life’s mission to make sure this kid doesn’t exist, right? To the point where his mom just abandons him, because she’s so scared of what Hera might do.”

“Wait, if Zeus tricked the mom, why is Hera taking it out on the kid?”

“Great question! The actual answer is probably that the men telling these stories had really shitty opinions of women. In the context of the story, though, I think it’s supposed to be like…Hera is the queen of the gods, right? And the Olympians as a whole are a mess; they’re fucking mortals left and right, and also fucking each other indiscriminately, but at the same time they’re all, these, like, fundamentally prideful and jealous creatures? So Zeus constantly sleeping around with other people isn’t just a betrayal of Hera, it’s also humiliating to her. But what can she actually do to Zeus, right? So instead, she goes around trying to eradicate all the symbols of his infidelity.”

“That’s dumb,” Steve says. He stares up at the sky. From her vantage point Robin can’t quite make out his expression, but she thinks maybe it’s contemplative. “There’s probably a decent chance I have a half-sibling or two running around out there. And I guess it’s different, because if I don’t know about them, that means no one who would matter to my mom is likely to either. But I still can’t imagine her going out of her way to make another kid’s life miserable just because my dad fucked their mom.”

Robin’s brow wrinkles. Steve hasn’t really talked about his parents. Just told her that they usually spend summers outside of Hawkins, and otherwise carefully side-steps any allusion to the subject. The silence speaks for itself, though. Or so she thought, at least. The way he’s talking now…there’s a bitter edge to it, but he also talks about his mom like he loves her, if in a messy way. “I think…I think that, maybe, it’s easier to hurt people who can’t hurt you back.”

Steve sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t say anything. Robin doesn’t either.

Morissey’s crooning slips out from the Beemer. I am human and I need to be loved…

“Yeah, that makes sense, I guess,” he whispers—more like he’s talking to himself than to her. “So how does the rest of it go?”

“Athena finds him, and takes him to Hera, without telling her who he is. And the irony of it all is that she’s the goddess of, like, marriage and childbirth? And since she doesn’t know who the baby is she feels bad that he got abandoned, and she ends up nursing him. But baby Hercules is already so strong that he bites her breast so hard that she spills milk all across the sky—and that’s how we got the Milky Way.” Robin brings their joined hands up again to run along the bright band of stars cutting a path through the heavens.

“…what the fuck?”

“Mythology is super fucked up, dude.”

“That feels like an understatement!”

“Yeah, well, how else would you explain the Milky Way if you didn’t know about astrophysics yet?!”

“Not with some chick’s breast milk!”

Robin purses her lips and gives an exaggerated head shake. “You just don’t appreciate the power of the female form, Harrington.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s it.” Their hands are still raised high above them, and he idly plays with her fingers. “Tell me the rest of it.”

“You are so demanding,” she scoffs, but carries on anyway. “After he accidentally creates the Milky Way—or, I guess, accidentally causes Hera to create the Milky Way? Whatever, not important. After that, Athena brings him back to his mom to raise him. Which, y’know, passes more or less uneventfully—except for him murdering his music teacher, in some retellings—”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t really get it either. It’s just kind of a blip, and then he’s passing from ‘boyhood’ to ‘manhood’ and has to make a choice about whether to follow the path of Vice or Virtue for the rest of his life.”

“Isn’t that a little late since he’s just murdered someone? Also, that seems…overly literal.”

“Yeah, well, it’s mythology. They’re all basically parables.”

“Isn’t that a type of graph?”

“No, it’s like…fables? Moral tales.”

“Sure. Okay. But that still doesn’t make sense, because it’s not like you just make a decision like that once and never get the chance to try again.”

“Well, take that up with Prodicus.”

Steve blows a raspberry, and Robin can picture him rolling his eyes in disdain.

“Do you want me to finish this story, or not? You can give your review at the end.”

Steve is silent for a beat. Squeezes her hand. “Yeah. Keep going.”

“Okay! So, he’s having trouble deciding which path to take, when these two women approach him. One claims to be ‘Happiness’—nicknamed Vice—and the other, Virtue. And each of them presents their case for why he should follow their path. Vice runs up to him first, promising a life of wealth and happiness, and freedom from hardship—”

Steve snorts.

“Have something to share with the class, Harrington?”

“You told me to wait until you were finished!”

“And yet you still interrupted me.”

“What, so I’m not allowed to make sounds?”

“Not like that!”

Steve shakes his head with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable! Keep telling me your little parabola, then.”

Robin rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh. “Vice promises him untold riches and blah blah blah, and then Virtue comes up and tells him that there are no good things in life to be had without hard work and sacrifice, and that following her path is the only way his memory will be honored and immortalized in death.”

Steve lets out a small disapproving sound. “And? Which does he pick?”

“He picks Virtue, just like any good hero, right?” Robin’s goading him intentionally now, but it’s worth it for the way he actively works to stifle a groan of annoyance. “Anyway, then he starts going on various adventures as a big hero man. He helps defend a city against an invasion, and the king is like ‘here, marry my daughter’ as a reward.”

“Yikes.”

“Very. But the two of them end up being pretty happy together. They get a house, have lots of children. Happily ever after, right?”

“Something tells me the answer to that question is gonna be ‘no.’”

“Yeah, because Hera’s still obsessed with getting revenge. So she induces this, like, godly madness in him, which drives him to kill his wife and kids—”

“What the fuck!!”

Robin shrugs. “Like I said, Greek Mythology, man. Anyway, that’s how we get to the part of the story most people know: Heracles goes to the Oracle of Delphi and asks how he can atone for what he’s done, and that’s how we end up with the Twelve Labors of Heracles/Hercules.”

“Absolutely none of that made any sense. Why would going around killing a bunch of monsters make up for killing his entire family? Especially when it wasn’t even really in his control? Also, if this is how he ends up with his name getting immortalized or whatever, how is that any better than just choosing vice? He didn’t actually really sacrifice anything! His family did! If the way you get to have honor or glory or whatever is by killing your loved ones—even if you ‘atone’ for it later—how does getting those things make you any better than the person who chose happiness?”

“All great questions, young Padawan,” Robin says, affecting an exaggerated, sagely tone. “To answer the first one: arguably, it isn’t. The Oracle was basically working for Hera and sent Hercules to offer ten years of servitude to a king who hated him. As for the others: I don’t know, something to think on, I guess. But. It’s not like Hercules knew he was going to lose his family. And Vice’s path hinges on exploiting others.”

“I don’t know, it just sounds like either way you spin it he’s choosing a path based on what he thinks it’ll get him.”

“I think the way the Greeks thought about morality is probably different from how we do now.”

Steve makes a sort of disgruntled sound. “I guess that makes sense.” He sighs and presses his face into her shoulder. “So, tell me how these ‘labors’ go, then.”

She does, launching into dramatic retellings of Hercules slaying the Nemean Lion and the Hydra; capturing the Minotaur and the Erymanthian Boar; stealing Hesperides’ golden apples, and King Diomedes’ mares.

The music from the radio keeps playing in the background, a strange sort of backing track. Robin hasn’t been playing close attention to the songs as they roll through—just enough to notice that whoever’s in charge of the late-night programming has been doing the musical equivalent of throwing spaghetti at walls. It suits them, though. She’s halfway through regaling Steve with Hercules’ capture of Cerberus when conscious awareness of the music knocks into her by way of Steve bopping along to the opening bars of “Dancing in the Moonlight.”

He’s up and off the hood of the car before she can say anything.

“Steve!” she yells in protest as he yanks at her arm for her to join him. “I wasn’t done!”

“You can finish later! We’re not going to pass up the opportunity to literally dance in the moonlight when the universe decrees it, Bobbin!”

“There’s no moonlight tonight, dingus!”

“Starlight, then,” he says, shimmying his shoulders at her with a wide smile on his face.

And Robin is a lot of things, but immune to the delight of one Stephen Richard Harrington is not one of them. He starts doing a little swaying and snapping number, beckoning her to join him.

This was how the early seeds of their friendship were planted. Dancing to Dolly and Madonna as they mopped the floor; yelling and laughing together as they worked. It’s easy to slip back into. Into that space where Robin was just starting to see the first glimmers of who Steve Harrington could be—who he is. That time when she started to suspect that—maybe, just maybe—he could be something like a friend to her. Before they were SteveandRobin, sure, but also before they were trapped in a metal box with two kids they’d led into danger. Before Steve was bloodied and bruised for information he didn’t have. Before Robin learned that monsters were real, and the Russians were punching holes through reality to try to reach them. A time when—for once in Robin’s life—it felt like there was moonlight in the darkness of her life.

So she dances. Shoulders swaying, and feet tapping. Hips bumping with Steve’s. Lets him twirl her under his arm like he did in her kitchen last week while teaching her how to make the best grilled cheese sandwich of her life.

She smiles, and she laughs, and for a moment she forgets about heroes, and monsters, and gods.

Her cheeks are aching from smiling so hard, and even though it’s a short song, she’s panting with exertion by the end. It trails off into the night air, and Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade” fades into place.

This time she extends her hand to him, pulling Steve into her arms. She’s never been that great a dancer—clumsy, and awkward, with limbs that won’t heed her command—but she’d dragged her father to a father-daughter dance thing during the handful of years she was a Girl Scout, and she’d picked up some basics. Enough to know how to lead in a dance without structure.

Steve follows without comment, making himself smaller so he can tuck himself in against her. It actually makes it a little harder to steer them without occasionally stepping on Steve’s feet, but she takes it as the unspoken request to be held that it is, and she dances in the starlight with her best friend. Feels it sparkling through him.

She knows the constellations that dot his skin, the streaks and starbursts of light of his scars, and his nebulae of bruises. The stories written on his skin are just as mythic—just as full of heroism—and all the beautiful contradictions those things entail. And she hopes he knows it. Hopes that she can show him someday.

Notes:

This fic is in the same universe as my other Stobin-centric Summer Challenge fic, which you can read here, and to my Steve-centric fic lay your cuts and bruises over you skin, which can be read on AO3 here. I'm including this at the end since this fic works just fine as a standalone :) Also, my Classical Studies major partner feels it is imperative that I point out that Robin's description of myth vs. parable vs. fable is inaccurate. These are each distinct categories of stories, and not all of them have or are meant to have a moral. (She's right. Don't believe everything fictional teenagers say when explaining complicated concepts to other fictional teenagers :P )

taglist of people who have requested snippets of this as I worked on it! @devondespresso @theheadlessphilosopher @delta-piscium @steves-strapcollection @bifuriouswaterbender @spicysix @inairbinad and @starryeyedjanai. thanks for all the encouragement, pals!

#lexssummerfanworkschallenge #stobin #platonic stobin #stobin fic #stranger things #read writes #me last week: this fic is gonna be 3k. max. #me now: 🤡 #(at least i was only off by 1k this time) #also in case anyone is wondering i did indeed look up #the moon cycle and star chart for indiana in 1985 #for the day this is set on in my head

[sketchy-rosewitch]

small request for Vincent maybe? him just seeing his s/o kinda out of it, just having a sort of blank face and he knows that they're probably in a weird headspace and feeling kinda empty so he just. like. goes and hugs them. or cuddles. idk. i want Vincent hug, that'd fix me fr.

It’s Okay: Vincent x gn!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Soft Cuddles

A/N: I think a hug from Vincent could fix everyone. I enjoyed writing this!

Masterlist

Vincent could tell something was up with you. You’d been quiet for the past few days but he didn’t know what to do about it. Usually when he and Bo went through rough patches they both wanted alone time. But you weren’t like Vincent or Bo, you didn’t hide away your emotions waiting until the dam broke. You usually spoke about them with him, worked things out so you’d be happier. This was strange. But he did give you those few days to see if you did want space. But he knows you well enough to know a few days is too many.

Vincent walks up the basement stairs then the living room stairs and walks into yours and his hardly used bedroom. Normally the two of you would sleep in his art room, yet you also hadn’t been down there.

You’re laying in bed, looking at the ceiling when he comes in, no expression readable on your face. Stone faced and sad looking.

He takes off his jacket and walks over to the bed. You like the smell of him so maybe you’d like having his jacket on you. Vincent lays it gently on you and toes off his boots, sliding in next to you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is raspy, barely above a whisper. He looks into your eyes and they read nothing. You shrug, you’re frowning going deeper. Your face twitches slightly, just little things Vincent noticed about you. A tear comes down your face. “S’okay.”

He takes his mask off and sets it on the bedside table then wraps his arms around you. The undeveloped side of his face buries into your neck, you hold his arm as he cuddles into you.

Vincent kisses your neck gently, only love coming from it. Then, the dam breaks, your breath shakes, you cry into his shoulder as your arms wrap tightly around him. “I dunno whats wrong!” You sob. He rubs your head and down your back then holds the back of your neck. “I feel like nothing, I don’t like feeling like this.” You whisper, Vincent nods and you bury yourself into him more, wanting to just be connected to him and not alone. He understands.

“Sometimes..” His almost never used voice cracks. “Ya jus’ feel that way. Just need some love is all.” Vincent explains, he kisses your head and soothes you. Slightly rocking , you touch his face and move up touching his soft hair too. You smile sadly. But your heart warms up just a little more as you two sit there and cuddle. He squeezes you and lets you stay in whatever position this is you’re in, as you play with his hair, making sure to keep him close.

#vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #house of wax 2005 #house of wax

[law-d-water-trafalgar]

Sleepless Mushroom

Law X F. Reader

Part of Heart Pirates for four years, girlfriend to Law eventually, strong willed, cured, daily life with law.

You ate the insomnia mushroom and the closest island was five days away. As your sanity weighs Law goes to get your medicine to cure you.

"But Law I'm sooo hungry I cant wait" you say as your stomach growls.

"You can wait, you've waited longer than this anyways" he grumbles annoyed. While you both were walking through lush forestry you notice some mushrooms and decide to sneakily pick them you ate two big ones then stuffed the rest in your boiler suit pockets. Feeling super energized you run up to him keeping up with his pace.

"I dont think theres any pirates here but we could send the team out to look for medical supplies" you say garnering a smirk from Law.

"Your right (n) let's go back-" he was cut off by his eyes darting to something falling out of your pocket. He picks it up and then it hits him.

"(N) dont tell me you ate any of these..." he exclaims voice shaken. You pause like a deer in headlights.

"Um well I only ate two of them, I told you I was hungry!" You whined as he grabs you and shakes you

"Those are insomnia mushrooms! Once you eat them you may never sleep until you die or go crazy (n)" he yells at you making you tear up. He stops shaking you now with his hand on the bridge of his nose he just stand there thinking hard.

"Come with me now!" He yells. Grabbing your hand he shouts

"Room Shambles" and your both in the Polar Tang in the med bay. Him searching for a book finding it then flipping through it he starts to prepare a medicine.

"Fuck!" You hardly ever heard him curse so you knew this was serious.

"What's wrong Captain?" You politely ask. You've been with the Heart Pirates for four years now and have taken a great liking to your Captain but you know he wouldn't feel the same so you've kept it to yourself.

"We just ran out of the key ingredient I need to make your medicine dammit!" He yells as he pounds his fist onto the table.

"At the fastest we can go, itll still take five days to get to the island" Law says defeated.

"You'll start hallucinating after seventy two hours, then start to loose it after five days. This island also has rocks and whirlpools around it making it very difficult to get too" he says sadly.

"So why does it even matter if I live or die? Just let me die" You ask morbidly.

"You could die any day now (n) but I refuse to let you die" He just stares at you for a long time then goes up to you cups your cheek leans in and kisses you. Shocked but quick on your feet you kiss him back until you both break for air.

"I cant loose another person that I love that includes you (n)" he states softly holding your hand his face blush rose pink.

"I just meant I didnt care if I died because, I've been so in love with you for so long Law... I dont want to die I just wanted true love" he looks at you with a deepened blush as your blush deepens too.

"I never could tell that's why I never said anything before" he says.

"Since there's a chance you may die I just had to tell you" he says gently.

"I need that medicine Law" you say concerned as he nods.

"I'll go to the control room and tell them to adjust course. It will take five days to get there. Do you think you can handle that?" Law asks concern creeping into his voice. You just nod a little unsure but you would dam hell try.

-☆-

Three Days Later

-☆-

"Trafalgar where am I again?" You question face planted on the desk. You both have barley left the office since he found out you ate the insomnia mushroom. He would bring you sleeping pills but they wouldnt work.

"In my office on my desk. I asked you to do paperwork remember" he says becoming more afraid with every passing minute.

"Since the sleeping pills didnt work heres some coffee, you might as well have some" he says placing a cup down next to your head. As you perk up you exclaim.

"Thank you cutie!" You almost yell as he blushes and pulls down his hat still not used to you calling him pet names. As you sip your coffee you realized

"Hey howd you know how I liked my coffee?" You wonder. As you turn to face him

"I kind of liked to watch you from afar before" he states one hand scratching the back of his head the other with a cup of coffee.

"Aweee that is soo sweet Trafalgar" you squeal getting up and hugging him close. He looks shocked but lays a arm around your waist.

"If you can manage to get through this without going insane, theres something I need to talk to you about." He says as you just look up at him.

"Why not now?" He blushes deeply.

"Your mind is not right, right now." He simply states. Rubbing your back with one hand.

"Okay finnee.. let me continue working now." You pull and breakaway from his warm grasp. Going back to the paperwork hours and hours pass with Law bringing you food and water, since you were so focused all you would say is thank you, and not even look at him until the paperwork was depleted. You sigh loudly.

"What's wrong?" Law asks you.

"Now I'm bored! Do you have anything else for me to do?" You ask politely. He looks shocked that you finished all the paperwork.

"Those were about weeks worth of paperwork and you finished in one day?" He questions.

"Yea I can work fast so what?" You say nonchalantly sipping your new coffee.

"I'm switching your position from guard to the office."

"What?! What the hell? Why?" You ask really liking your old position.

"I want to be closer to you, is that all right?" He asks looking down his hat covering his face.

"Well if that's all you wanted you could have just said so." You state quickly as he perks up and you smile at him making him blush which makes you blush. You motion him over and he obeys. You stand and hug him close

"I'm strong willed Trafalgar, I'm still in my right mind, dont you worry, I'm just sooo tired" you admit.

"I can understand that" he says while looking at the clock. Its three am now wow. I hate leaving you alone." He releases you and says

"Room Shambles" "shambles" then reappears in front of you with a crochet needle and yarns. Surprised you ask

"Whered you get all this?" You motion towards the yarns and needle.

"Bepos room, he was asleep I'll explain to him in the morning. Maybe you can crochet him something?" Law says gently handing you the stuff.

"That sounds sweet! I'll do that thank you ... handsome" you say looking away blushing deep red making him blush slightly. You feel a hand on your chin tilting your head upwards he kisses you, you kiss him back deepening the kiss, using your tounge to flick his around feeling him smirk he uses one hand to play with your hair as the other caresses your back. Your hand find its way to his chest and one plays with his hair as you both break for air he looks like hes about to say something but stops.

"Two more days (n)" Law he reluctantly says.

"Its really late and I need to get some sleep. I'll have to see you tomorrow (n)" he says as he slips his hand off of yours while he heads to his bed. You stay at his desk crocheting well into the night and morning. You realize its nine am now and Law and everyone must be awake. You had just finished Bepos hat so you went to walk out the door but bump into someone.

"Excuse me-"

"Its just me (n)" you hear Law say as you see him holding two cups of coffee. He hands you a cup as you take it in one hand Bepos hat in the other.

"Thank you cutie" you say making Law blush slightly.

"Your welcome ... um dear" he manages to say making you blush a deep red. You giggle and sip some coffee.

"I finished Bepos hat I wanted to give it to him" you state as Law nods and let's you pass by him. Once you find Bepo you hold the hat behind yourself and say

"Bepo! Guess what I've made you?" You say happily.

"Hmm what is it (n)?" Bepo asks. You pull out the hat and shove it near Bepo he looks so happy.

"Awee (n) it looks just like Captain's hat. He told me you borrowed my crochet stuff thank youu" Bepo says.

"Oh yea here you go Bepo" you pull out and hand him the rest of the crochet stuff as he holds it.

"Thank you (n) I'll treasure it forever" Bepo says happily while leaving to his room. You walk back to the office to see a Law at his other desk as you sit down on the free desk holding your head up with you elbow. Plopping your head down on the desk you quickly pick your head back up. Law turns around to notice your strange behavior.

"Its time for a check up" he says nonchalantly. You get up and follow him to the med bay sitting on the bed.

"3.2.1." Law inserts the needle and draws your blood while you look away.

"All done" he says placing a gauze and tape over the hole.

Inserting the vile into the medical machine he stares at the screen as information pops up.

Turning to you he seemingly is trying to find words as he says

"Your fighter cells are starting to turn against your body since you havent slept in four days." You just nod understanding but feeling delirious.

"I feel high Law"

"That will happen when you start to hallucinate.. you should stay next to me from now on until I can get your medicine" Law states patting your head. You nuzzle his hand and he blushes slightly.

"I'm so in love with you" you tell him as he blushes deep red.

"I'm in love with you too (n)" he says appeasing you knowing your probably saying these things due to lack of sleep, but not wanting to hurt your feelings.

-☆-

After All Day

-☆-

After helping Law all day staying close to him following him places to and fore. It became dark and night time. In the office,

"I want you to stay with me tonight it may help you too" Law says gently. You just look over to him and nod.

"Okay what do you mean exactly, tomorrow is the day and you need sleep" you says blankly.

"Sleep with me tonight, um not like that but, just rest with me tonight." He stutters blushing deep red pulling his hat down over his face. You giggle and say

"Okay honey pie" you say giggling your head off.

"Whew I'm feeling it oh yea" you say which makes Law frown.

"Well tomorrow is the day so let's go rest now" he says taking your hand leading you to his room which you've never been in before.

"So quaint and cute!" You giggle loudly. As you squeeze Laws hand. He let's go and goes to the closet pulling out his old sweatshirt and sweatpants.

"Here change into these" he holds them for you as you start to take your shirt off he yelps

"In the bathroom, uh change in the bathroom!" He yells blushing wine redfully to his ears.

"Oh right sorry I guess I'm more delusional than I thought you giggle and laugh. Making Law frown. You take the clothes then change in the bathroom. Once done you come out and see Law staring at you blushing at you wearing his clothes.

"See something you like?" You say seductively.

"Why yes I do" Law chuckles at your tone.

"Come here" Law demands and you obey. Sliding into the bed next to him he wraps an arm around you as you both lay down staring into eachothers eyes as you see him start to drift off you pet his head.

"Goodnight Trafalgar" you say as you give him a gentle kiss on his forehead as he falls asleep. The next morning you had stayed awake unable to sleep but getting to see Trafalgars sleeping face was more than enough for you. As he wakes you coo to him.

"Wakey wakey cutie patootie" you say kissing his cheek until he opens his eyes. Looking a back at first but thinking about something he pulls you closer embracing you in a gaint hug.

"I think it's time to see how far -"

"Captain we see the island!" You both hear Bepo yell through the speaker system.

"Well speak of the devil. I have to go (n) stay here try not to uh yea, just be good" he says getting up getting dressed in his cloak grabbing Kikoku.

"Okay love I'll do whatever you say" you say as you sprawl all over the bed.

"Room Shambles"

-☆-

After Hours

-☆-

Your starting to get worried as it's been hours since Law left to the island. The Polar Tang had to submerge as the whirlpools were to much and rocks where everywhere.

"Shambles" you hear as Trafalgar appears cloak ripped, arm slightly bleeding.

"Oh my god what happened?!?!" You yell as Law just takes your hand

"Room Shambles" your both in the med bay now as he walks over to the medicine he made earlier days before. He took out the flower from his cloak and starts to make it into the medicine. Once done he take off his cloak revealing two deep gashes on his arm. He takes the medical drink and gently hands it to you.

"Drink up (n) all of it" you chug the gross drink until its empty starting to feel the effects of tiredness but refusing to sleep yet.

"Let me fix you up Law" you state getting needle and thread, stitching ready.

"Sit down" you say and he obeys as you start stiching him up him hissing. Once done you sterilize and dress his wound.

"What happened Law?" You ask concerned. He looks at you then gently speaks

"This island is home to dangerous ancient dinosaurs I got slashed by a flying one while I dodged three others to get your medicine." He states softly.

"What?! That was too dangerous I was going out of my mind with worry about yo-" you were cut off by Laws lips on yours, melting into him you give a soft moan. Breaking for air he starts to speak.

"Now remember I had something to talk to you about?" he asks you. Cocking your head to the side you say

"Oh right what was it Law?" You question.

"I wanted to tell you after all these four years I've learn something about myself. I'm in love with you. I love you (n). Will you please be my girlfriend? Now that your of sound mind" In shock you think for a minute.

"I'm in love with you as well and I love you too Trafalgar! Of course I'd love to be your girlfriend!" You squeal in happiness and slip your arms through his and hug him gently. As he hugs you back he stands and leads you into his room.

"Being my girlfriend, you dont have to wear that boiler outfit and I'd like you to move into my room" Law says in a whisper.

"Okay I'll move what I have tomorrow but for today and tonight we both need rest" you say as Law nods leading you to the bed you both slip into it while he wraps his non injured arm around you.

"I love you (n)" Trafalgar whispers in your ear making you shiver in happiness.

Looking up to meet his grey eyes you say

"I love you to Trafalgar" you say as you kiss his neck making him shiver.

"We better wait till I'm healed now" he winks at you, cups your cheek and kisses you deeply.

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