#he cut his hair? darn it

[i2ycat]

clingy

pairing bf!jungwon x fem!reader synopsis jungwon as your boyfriend who is overly clingy and just can’t ever get enough of you genre established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff warnings none main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

clingy bf!jungwon is 100% the type to keep you in bed until you realise that you’re late for class or work, but even then, he’s sneaky enough to keep you staying put

“can you stay here forever?” he asks groggily, the morning evident in his voice as he snuggles into the crevice of your neck

the warmth he radiates in the dead of winter makes you want to not get out of bed at all, and especially not in the morning cold, so you mumble quietly, “just 10 minutes.”

and like that, 2 hours magically pass by…

even when you’re busy with class or work, best bet that jungwon is blowing up your phone about how he misses you or how badly he wants to be in your arms right now

before he dated you, he didn’t really like physical affection or even hugging for that matter, but after meeting you, you’ve got him hooked… you think you’re clingy? wait until you meet yang jungwon

you’ve pervaded every part of his life and thoughts that anything he sees, he immediately gets reminded of you… like he’s just so down bad for you

he follows you around the house or around the supermarket when you’re shopping for groceries like a lost puppy

when you’re apart for more than an hour or two, he starts getting extreme y/n withdrawal… like he PHYSICALLY cannot live without you by his side (someone pls put him in a rerun of ‘my strange addiction’)

more under cut !

he would always find his way into your arms no matter the place, the situation or the people around, my guy does not give a fuck!

by extension, jungwon gets jealous easily and is super possessive of you

he honestly amps the physical affection up in public just to show everyone that you’re his, and he’s yours…

when he does get jealous, he gets all pouty and furrows his brows, staring at you with that look in his eyes that make you melt away because he’s just so darn adorable

his jealousy is actually so endearing that you sometimes don’t give him the attention he wants just to rile him up and see him get all sulky for you

there would be one instance when you would be chatting with a junior about your courses, and in jungwon’s eyes, they would be standing way too close for his comfort, so he immediately stares the both of you down until you eventually notice a pair of killer eyes

you look at him amused and immediately excuse yourself from your junior, walking up to him with crossed arms

“what is it now?”

“he was standing way too close to you.”

“he’s just my junior, wonie.”

“still! what if he likes you?”

“then i would tell him that i’m already dating the best boyfriend ever, duh.” you say as you envelop him into a hug, kissing him in the cheeks in the process

jungwon just loves to be in your presence, nothing could ever even come close to you in any and every sense… to him, you guys are end game

when jungwon is going through a particularly hard time, his number one therapy would be you

he would show up at your dorm, head hung low and hair unusually tousled into a mess. over the years you’ve been together, you immediately knew the drill — bring him into your arms and stay like that for hours, maybe even play a studio ghibli film in the background as you eat ice cream in the comfort of your bed

no matter how much jungwon hugs you, he just can’t ever get enough of it. people always ask him if he gets sick of the physical touch, and he just replies simply with, “never.”

other than his very obvious love language, jungwon also likes to spoil you with gifts, especially oversized teddy bears, because to him, it can act as his replacement when he’s not there…

but before he even gifts it to you, he would snuggle with it for a week or two straight so that by the time you receive it, it’ll smell and feel like he’s actually there in your bed with you

he’s so used to hearing you calling him by your nickname for him, that when you use his real name, it literally breaks his heart

“jungwon, can you hand-“

“jungwon? who?”

“what do you mean ‘who’? that’s literally your name?” you look at him confused

“no i’m not jungwon, i’m your baby? get it right. and what happened to ‘won’ or ‘wonie’?”

“baby, can you pease hand me the remote?”

“that’s better.” he LITERALLY starts smiling like this ‘😊’ and presses a kiss on your forehead

he loves you so much and will do anything and everything to show you that he loves you and cares for you so much

© i2ycat 2024

#i2ycat #jungwon fluff #jungwon ff #enha jungwon #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #jungwon fanfic #jungwon fic #enhypen jungwon #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon #jungwon #enha ff #enha fics #enha x reader #enha reactions #enha scenarios #enhypen ff #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha #enha soft thoughts #enha soft hours #jungwon soft hours #jungwon soft thoughts #lyn’s archive

[luveline]

Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?

Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done

thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve

cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress 

Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.

He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin. 

"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly. 

You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had. 

"Steve," he corrects. 

"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?" 

"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more." 

"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress." 

"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?" 

"It wasn't gross," you say softly. 

"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring." 

You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it." 

"You're too mean to yourself," he says. 

Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble. 

It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches. 

Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again. 

"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches." 

Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency. 

"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?" 

"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake." 

"Did someone say that to you?" 

"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.  

He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week. 

You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists. 

To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does. 

"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?" 

"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers. 

"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock. 

"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask. 

"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?" 

Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.

There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met. 

"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile. 

"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional." 

"And you as mandatory?"

"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."

You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife. 

"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages." 

He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.  

—

if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[s0dium]

TR MEN WHEN YOU SQUIRT

A/n: Cant believe my other one got taken down, here we go again ig

Characters: Draken, Ran, Taiju

Warnings: Squirting, forced orgasm, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, dub con, recording

~

Ken Ryuguji

King at making you squirt unintentionally

His dick is just so gosh darn big T_T

He'll act sorry about it too but really he is not

"Talk to me y/n" Draken groans, letting his dick slip in and out of you methodically. Your unable to answer, only offering wanton moans and whines in response. The pressure of his dick thrusting against your sweet spot was exhilarating, it was all too much.

Your cunt fluttered and squeezed around drakens cock as you came without warning, juices leaving your pussy in quick spurts like a fountain while he stared in fascination.

Ran Haitani 

Always tries to make you squirt whenever y'all fuck

This causes sexxy times with multiple orgasms and you being winded after

His chest fills with pride every time he makes you squirt sometimes he will even catch it on camera and watch it during meetings

Ran clicks the tongue on the roof of his mouth, creating a tsk nose as you tried to squirm away from the relentless prodding of his fingers.

"Come on now baby, no running away~" While the fingers to one of his hands curled up to hit the sweet spot in your cunny, the other hand remained splayed on the inner thigh of your leg, keeping you pinned down. You whine at the unfamilar feeling building up in your stomach, like something was pressing down on a dam waiting to explode. "You can give another one for me right? I know you can, just look into the camera baby everything will be alright."

Taiiju shiba

Thinks its hella cute but totally degrades you if you do

Isnt always intentional but doesnt mind

Tries to embarrass you in every way possible really a true menace

"Hgnnghhh...! I-I am so close!" You whine, the grip you had on his blue and white hair tightening every time he thrust his tongue into the tight channel. Taiju groaned into your head, switching from fucking your hole to rolling your clit on his tongue, making your legs trembled.

"Im gonna-"You cut your self off with whine and let your self topple over the edge, juices spraying from your cunt.

"Fucking nasty" Taiju grumbles, lapping up your juices.

#tr x reader #tr smut #tr headcanons #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #draken x reader #draken smut #ken ryuuguji smut #ken smut #ran x reader #ran smut #haitani x reader #rindou haitani #haitani smut #taiju x reader #taiju smut #taiju shiba

[jeonjcngkook]

incandescent | jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre(s)&au(s): fluff, established relationship

rating: pg

wc: 1.3k

warnings: theyre so in love with each other🤭! koos singing voice lulls us all 🤲🏻 makin’ out, playing with koos pretty hair bcs its exactly what he deserves !!!

summary: you and your boyfriend spend a comfortable romantic night in together.

note: unedited. repost bcs the last one stopped showing in tags 🙃.

Is there anything more beautiful than the sound of your boyfriend's voice?

The deep tenors and sweet cadences lull you into a state of calm as you stretch yourself out on the couch below, listening to Jungkook reach the notes in a perfect sequence to the song he is currently singing on his karaoke machine.

Friday nights are typically spent with each other as you participate in different activities. Your relationship's own version of a ‘date night’, you could say. However, this time it had been agreed between you both that staying in and enjoying each other's company in the cosiness of the home you built together was exactly what was needed.

Earlier, Jungkook prepared dinner for you both — a spread on the table of both your favourite foods and glasses of alcohol to wash it down with. Every detail had been carefully thought of, all the way down to the scented candles, that he personally chose to match the fragrances of the food.

Now, with full tummies and even fuller hearts, you both lie within the blanket of reds, blues and greens from the stars of his favourite LED light system and a spread of mandarin & grapefruit scented candles decorating the living room.

You could listen to Jungkook’s voice all day and never be tired of it. The calming effect he has on you with his words alone is something you have always admired. It doesn’t take much for a yawn to slip through his lips, catching the attention from yourself as he continues to sing through the verse of the next song. You watch as he attempts to stifle it underneath his breath, pulling the thin knitted throw up to his face to conceal the motion.

A sweet smirk is on your lips as he continues his lacklustre attempt at concealing his tiredness. Tears cling to his lower lash line from the yawn, head falling to the side and landing on your shoulder.

“You should get some sleep,” you’re quick to say as you feel him wriggle further into your warmth, his hand finding your spare hand that isn’t holding your phone and intertwining his fingers with your own.

“I’m fine staying here with you, baby,” he mumbles back in retaliation, cutting himself off mid-song to rebuttal back, voice half asleep and rubbing at his eyes like that will do the job of removing the sleep out of it. “I like laying here with you.”

You huff a little at his words. He is too darn cute for his own good and it makes your body warm knowing that he is licking being with you over much needed rest.

“But we could lie together in bed, snuggle up nice and cosy, and then in the morning come back here and cuddle all day into the night. Doesn’t that sound like the perfect way to begin our weekend?” You reason with him.

Jungkook’s lips part open for a moment as if he had the words to argue back with but is quick to shut them and opts for putting his microphone down on the coffee table instead. He finds the remote control for the TV and lowers the volume to something less deafening and one a little more relaxing as the lofi sounds act as a background ambiance.

He turns towards you and you watch as the flickers of the candles scattered around the room flicker and dance against his skin; bathing him in an ethereal glow — just like how an angel should look. The bright vibrant amber candlelight beautifully illuminates the melanin of his skin, extenuating his tanned skin stunningly.

It doesn’t help that his shirt is loose and baggy on his upper body, sleeves cuffed half way on his upper arm showing off his pretty tattoos of striking colours and bold black lines, only for the muscle under his skin to thicken as he brings his hand up to his hair. You watch intently as both hands comb through the long curly tresses from forehead to crown; again and again and it only magnifies just how pretty your boyfriend is.

The tip of his tongue presses against his inner cheek, his cheek protruding from the outside…an action he usually does when he is deep in thought. With the way the light hits his soft skin, it perfectly shows off how sharp his jawline is and how his gentle pink lips rest in a natural pout, leaving them looking plump, pink and irresistibly kissable.

“‘m not tired,” he argues, a grin on his face as he lies himself down next to you on the L shape of the couch, pulling back the thin blanket that has been resting on the headrest of the sofa and engulfs you inside the fabric before laying his head into your lap and effectively trapping you against the back of the leather and his body. Another yawn takes over his body as you feel him stiffen as he rides it out.

You lift your hand up to his face and let your fingers play delicately with the strands of his hair, twisting it around your finger and curling it around his ear away from his face.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed as you continue playing with his hair, adding to his tiredness and lulling him into a state of slumber. The atmosphere is exactly what Jungkook had promised earlier…cosy.

Jungkook’s eyes slipped shut, just long enough for you to see before he is prying them back open again with as much willpower as he can possibly muster. With the feeling of your fingers gently twisting and pulling at his hair, he has no argument against his exhaustion as it finally reaches him.

You reach the tight curls at the base of his neck, fingers playing with the curls as you make sure to let your nails scratch lightly at the base of his scalp, knowing that Jungkook has no bone in his body to make this stop, enjoying your touches so much.

You have him exactly where you want him.

Jungkook’s eyes are glazed over with sleep and yet all the same still looks dreamy — the browns are rich and deep, flakes of amber dotted within his irises. Love songs are written about eyes like his. It wasn’t hard to peer into them and to see your own smile reflecting back when he looks at you.

He runs his thumb over your lower lip, parting them just slightly before he leans down, pillowy lips connecting to yours in a soft kiss.

The feeling is so fulfilling that it is enough to make your eyelids flutter shut and your heart racing in your chest with blissful warmth as he presses his mouth deeper into yours. Even in a state of sleep, the kiss is still filled with emotion — passionate and sensual.

Jungkook moans as his mouth continues to work over yours, his teeth catching your lower lip and biting down with little pressure and letting it snap back before chasing your mouth for a second kiss.

Your hands run through his hair,nails grazing his scalp enticingly, eliciting another moan from deep within his chest. The way you kiss him has him seeing stars; dazed and lost in the touch of your lips. You caress his face with delicate touches, tongues flicking across his mouth and the way you counter back by nibbling in his own bottom lip before breaking the kiss.

Endearingly, you both press your foreheads together and close your eyes with a smile on both your lips.

Jungkook’s hand finds home on his hip before slipping underneath the cotton material of your t-shirt and resting his hands there. His thumb runs tracks over your skin in back and forth strokes as you bask in the calming, soothing sensation.

You feel his foot nudge open your legs as he tangles his limbs with yours and pulls you impossibly closer to you, your own leg now resting on top of his lip as you lock each other within the other's arms.

The feeling of Jungkook’s breath against your skin causes goosebumps to travel over your body, the warmth now turning into a small bonfire as love for the sleepy man in your arms ignites and burns bright.

It isn’t long before his breathing becomes drawn out and even, loud snores whistling through his nose and his thumb slows its movements as he eventually falls asleep in your arms.

“So much for not being sleepy,” you mock him as if he could hear, when deep down you wish that he had taken off into a dreamy slumber.

With gentle ease, you press the palm of your hand against his full cheek and brush your thumb over his cheeks the same way he did with your hip moments ago. You press your head against his forehead and land a tiny, light, airy kiss on his pouty lips.

You close your own eyes, listening to the flickering sounds of the small candles around the living room as well as concentrating on the rhythm of Jungkook’s breathing, hoping to ease yourself into your own slumber.

What felt like a moment later, Jungkook tightens his hold on you, whispering a small ‘i love you’, before sleep eventually blankets over you.

#btshoneyhive #bangtantheatrenet #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts drabble #bts imagine #bts fic

[syoounn]

•A little scenario saying they are handsome

•Characters: Dazai, Chuuya, Sigma

Part 2?

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Dazai placed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. He just got home, and it's not surprising he'll get so cuddly.

While he's busy feeling your warmth.. you were staring at him and admiring his features.

Dazai lets out a heavy sigh, shifting his position to face you. He looks at you sleepily but quickly becomes curious when you don’t look away from him. After a moment, he chuckles.

“Hmm.. bella, you’re either staring at me cause you love me or cause you hate me. Which is it.. hmm?” He asks, still keeping his voice low.

"Nothing.... you just look handsome.." You said.

Dazai smirks at your bluntness, scooting closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Oh, so you think I look good, hm?” He asks, playing with a small strand of your hair.

Dazai snickers, his smile broadening.

“If you keep that up, I might have to kiss you again, and this time, it probably won’t just be on the corner of your mouth~."

He plants a quick kiss to your forehead and then shifts so his forehead is pressed against yours.

"That’s not threatening.." you said.

“It wasn’t meant to be, Bella.” Dazai sighs softly. “But maybe I should threaten you.” He teases mildly, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Ah.. not again.." You said, and those smirks of his are clearly not a good sign.. or not?

“Maybe.” Dazai purrs, running his fingers through your hair and stroking the side of your face. “You seem a little wound up. Maybe I should calm you down?” He smirks teasingly.

“Or I could tease you, make you feel more wound up, then give you a little release, just for fun.” Dazai chuckles softly, kissing your forehead and then your nose. He moves to your eyes and kisses each lid of each eye before settling back on your lips and kissing you again.

He draws back after a moment, his lips moving to your ear before returning to your lips after he has had his fill. His lips move to trace the shape of your body with every kiss, every touch. He is taking his time.

You've ended up being his tonight.

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Chuuya is lying next to you in bed, and one of his hands rests against the side of your torso; he’s staring at your sleeping form. He can’t help but feel an urge to caress you, but he tries to resist the temptation so as not to disturb you while you’re resting. Eventually, he ends up kissing the top of your head sweetly.

"Chuu.."

Chuuya lets out an amused chuckle when he realizes that you’ve half woken up by the time he kisses you. He snuggles in close to you. He closes his eyes, sighing contently for a moment.

“I missed you.”

As you've finally been able to see him.. he always looks so attractive. You can't help but want to praise him more.

"Chuu.. you look so..-"

“Tired?” He cut off your words and chuckles. “I’m sorry… I had to deal with this little rat… he was all kinds of annoying… I should’ve just beat ‘em up and left… "Instead, I had t’sit down and talk to the bastard… ugh…”

"Handsome.. i said.." You continued.

Chuuya’s face immediately turns as red as he buries his face into your neck, his cheeks puffing up.

“D-..Doll...” He muttered, seemingly too embarrassed and flustered to speak. Your comment caught him completely off guard.

After a moment, Chuuya slowly lifts his head back up, his face still flushed as he stares at you. His eyes flit to your lips before meeting your eyes.

“...are you trying to make me blush, Doll?” He asks, his voice still a bit higher than normal. A small smile is plastered on his face.

"No.. I'm just saying the truth.." you said.

Chuuya chuckles softly, his heart skipping a beat by the way you’re gazing at him. His arm tightens around your shoulders.

“...you’re so darn cute sometimes.” He mumbles softly

Seeing you slowly getting more sleepy, chuuya chuckles softly, not realizing that you’re already almost asleep.

He notices the yawn you let out, so he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arm protectively around your waist so your head is lying on his chest.

“Sleep, Doll. I’ll hold you so that the bad dreams don’t getcha.”

You've slept safely and sound tonight.

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Staring while your partner is working maybe is not helping him focus. You wanted to cuddle with him but can't due to his work and, how can you not adore his attractiveness?

The longer the stare gets, the more Sigma's face would start turning pink. Sigma is a naturally shy guy, so when it comes to affection, he tends to blush like a tomato. The more he blushes, the more he tries to cover the blush as he gets all flustered.

"cough cough..."

He tried to distract himself, but it didn't work. He was just too attracted to you. He was really tempted to pull you into his arms and kiss your face.

At the thought, he blushed even more and tried to cover his face with his hands as he chuckled out of embarrassment. He had to fight the urge to do something rash.

"You know you're making it difficult for me to do my job when you look at me like that." He said with a soft smile. His hands were placed on your waist as he looked at you.

You're so handsome.." you said giggling.

His heart did a flip every time he looked at you, and whenever you said that he was handsome, his heart felt like it was going to melt.

The urge to push you into the wall and kiss your soft lips... The urge to run his hands through your hair...the urge to just stay in this moment with you... He had to fight against it all. He chuckled softly again as he cleared his throat.

"Sigh, I can't focus at work when I look at you. My mind just gets filled with romantic thoughts..." he mumbled.

He slowly took hold of your hand and placed a kiss on it as he slowly started pulling away. A defeated sigh.. escape him as he gently held your hand and sat down in his big chair while pulling you on his lap, wrapping his slim arms around your waist with a soft smile. He really couldn't resist his darling, You were so cute and warm and so...perfect for him.

You've ended up watching him work with cuddles.. it's a win-win.

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#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #chuuya x reader #sigma x reader #dazai x reader

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 18

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 9508

Ao3 Link

Summary: Old friends reconnect, Buggy shows off his work, and you feel time moving by too fast. How can you enjoy the day when your world is falling apart?

Author's Note: This is the first chapter where I still think a lot of you will hate it, but I don't care as much because I'm super proud of it, lol. Although I realllyyy hope you like it!!! It's a rollercoaster 😵 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

Alternate POV Symbols:

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

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

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

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“You know, I can’t help but be curious,” Shanks wondered aloud, taking a sip of black coffee. He smirked at you from the newly added table on the balcony, the single round one wasn't nearly large enough for the appetites, or the sheer space that all these pirates demanded. 

“What’s that they say about cats,” Crocodile grumbled, tossing a napkin onto his empty plate before snagging the paper from Mihawk to flatten out on the table. He stared down at the page, giving the air of not caring whether the red headed guest lived or died, let alone replied.

Buggy floated his hand toward you from the second table. His body was so close to his old friend, but his smile was on you while he kept feeding you bits of fruit as he had all morning, his thumb rubbing over your lips when sweet juice would spill. 

Crocodile and Mihawk said nothing about it. 

But Shanks had too much to say.

“It just seems silly to me,” he continued, those brown eyes holding you in place, “that Miss Mystery Girl is keeping secrets from her lovers. Especially since they’ll be forced out of you after the party anyway. Why not share before then?”

“Leave her alone, shitbrain,” Buggy ordered, but there was no real bite in his voice. 

Your mouth went dry, the Emperor’s prodding words had twisted at your growing anxiety, even dipped in that friendly charm.

He’s right. It’ll be worse if I wait.

“Aren’t all the party guests your friends, Y/N? Do they know your little secret?”

“I think that’s enough curiosity for the day, Shanks,” Mihawk drawled as he rested a hand on the hook that had started scraping across the table.

“No worries,” Shanks winked, letting out a relaxed sigh as he stretched his arm toward the morning sun. “Your sweet, little bunny is just so darn interesting.”

“And you’re so darn annoying,” Buggy mocked, earning a playful smile from Shanks’ lips when he met those pretty, brown eyes.

“Alright, President,” Crocodile cut in while the red haired pirate leaned his face closer to your clown. Buggy perked up at the title of his position as their figurehead, his eyes a bit wide as he looked away from Shanks’ gaze. The dreamy look on his old friend’s face didn’t fade when Crocodile went on. “I’d like for us to sit in on your rehearsal this evening. Party’s in two days, we need to know what to expect.”

“Uh, sure, boss,” Buggy straightened up. You smiled to yourself as you caught his gloved fingers tapping and walking up and down his own thigh. “Let’s do dinner and a show!”

“Lovely,” Mihawk said dryly, although his eyes lingered on Buggy longer than usual before looking toward you. “I’m sure our clown will be busy preparing. Why don’t you all join me for a walk?”

“Got your garden set up yet?”

“Not at all,” Mihawk sighed at Shanks’ question, looking up at Crocodile after the larger man had huffed a laugh.

“Too busy building a cat palace, and terrorizing your other pets?”

“I have many fulfilling hobbies,” Mihawk smirked back, before narrowing his eyes at the rest of you. You and Buggy looked away quickly, while Shanks beamed at them. 

“Let’s have a tour then! I’d love to go play in the dirt,” Shanks laughed, his wicked eyes burning into you.

“Miss Y/N and I have some work to take care of,” Crocodile ordered, resting his arm across the back of your chair. If these men were slightly less terrifying, you might have laughed at their antics.

Shanks laughed for you, a low chuckle that sent shivers over your skin, still tingling after Mihawk led him away.

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

Shanks whistled softly, a comforting tune to keep his steps light as he followed his golden eyed friend outside this castle disguised as a circus tent.

That thought made his steps light.

Mihawk stayed silent, not a hint of lightness in his gait, except for his predator’s grace. He avoided glancing toward the source of that whistled tune he’d been humming lately until they were hidden away in the empty, walled garden, free from prying eyes.

“What exactly are you doing here, Red Hair?”

Shanks ignored the hidden threat under Mihawk’s bored voice as he chose one of the empty beds to inspect. Fisting into the soil, he let the dirt slip through his fingers, taking in the scent. 

“Think you’ll be here long enough for grapes,” Shanks rasped, standing as he tilted his head toward the other man. He wiped his hand on his thigh, huffing a laugh when Mihawk frowned at the stain of dirt on his pants. “You never change, old friend. Wanna hose me down before we go back inside? I’d hate to dirty up your shiny, new dollhouse.”

Shanks was one of the only people in the world that could notice the shift in Mihawk’s expression, his face almost sinking deeper into that lazy mask.

“You’ll never match me with cutting words, Shanks, just like you’ll never best me with a sword,” he reasoned, an unexpected tightness in his chest that he discarded, letting his body be nothing but air in this charged moment. “I’d rather not stand here all–”

“Come on, you ol’ son of a gun,” Shanks laughed, stepping across an invisible line of comfort Mihawk had drawn, touching his shoulder. “Don’t be a sourpuss. I told you I could use a little vacation, and I–”

“And you saw Buggy’s poster,” Mihawk noted, brushing that dirty hand away to wipe the evidence off of his coat. 

“You all looked real cute,” Shanks breathed, his eyes leaving heat as he dragged them down Mihawk’s skin. His lips parted into a cocky smile as he admired the column of Mihawk’s throat, and that chest covered in so many pretty scars. He smirked as he searched for some of his own making. 

“So that’s all you’re here for, then,” Mihawk asked, slipping into stillness under Shanks' hungry gaze. “Just drinking, and fucking as usual? Or just to steal our clown away?”

His hand flexed just slightly. He hadn’t meant to say those words quite like that. And the shadow that grew across Shanks’ face confirmed that he should have reined that question in. 

“Didn’t you used to call him my clown,” Shanks countered, gesturing to himself as he stepped even closer. “You know, back when you would give me shit for talking about him?”

“I…”

“Dracule Mihawk is speechless,” Shanks laughed, the sound jarring compared to the way laughter normally poured out of him. He stepped away, but only to pace in front of the swordsman, spitting words like daggers at his feet. “Always got something to say, except for now, huh? You’ve said so many things. Ooh, how about when you said I only liked my pathetic clown because of his powers, and that I’d be better off with a pretty, blue dildo? That’s definitely in my top ten. Or what about–”

“I’m sorry.”

Mihawk choked on those words, but he found himself in stillness for a different reason. A different danger.

Shanks stared, his mouth held open as if waiting to catch whatever word had been left forgotten from the shock. 

“What,” he growled, watching those glittering eyes for any hint of a feint.

“I’m sorry,” Mihawk confessed again, realizing that it was true. “I didn’t plan on–”

“Didn’t plan on fucking your best friend’s ex,” Shanks fumed, voice echoing a bit in the walled garden. “Keeping my clown as a toy? Have you used him as a fucking dildo yet, or are you still pretending to care about anyone besides your fucking cats?”

Mihawk cringed, taking each blow like a sword across his flesh. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this affected by words. 

Not words. 

Guilt. 

“I’m–”

“So how’d it happen then, old friend,” Shanks dared, anger still radiating off his skin, the air getting a little harder to breathe. “If you didn’t plan on it, did you just run around with your cock out until it landed in something?”

Mihawk tried to turn his surprised laugh into a cough, but Shanks’ eyes went manic at the sound.

“Who knew all my stoic friend needed to make him laugh was to fucking betray me. I can’t believe I’m surprised.”

“Shanks, wait–”

“Fuck off,” Shanks warned as he dodged Mihawk’s grasping hand, walking toward the exit. 

“Crocodile was going to kill him,” Mihawk called, hoping his friend would stop moving since he couldn’t seem to start. Shanks slowed, stopping to look over his shoulder, silent and waiting. “I suggested we keep him alive as our figurehead. I knew how you… I wouldn’t let him die.”

They faced off as they had countless times before, taking in every detail, every movement the other made. Shanks caught what looked like pain in those golden eyes, and his jaw clenched at the sight.

“That’s a pretty low bar for a friendship.”

After a heavy pause, Mihawk lowered his predator’s eyes, nodding as he looked toward Shanks’ feet. The swordsman was truly speechless now, nothing coming through until he braved looking back up when his friend broke the silence. 

“Are you gonna let me take him?”

“Of course,” he breathed, watching Shanks build up his walls again.

“What about Crocodile,” Shanks questioned. His lungs burned from it all, but his breathing slowed, still not sure what to feel about Mihawk’s words, about the emotion in those emotionless eyes. 

“He will. We promised Y/N,” Mihawk rasped. Shanks furrowed his brows, about to ask for more, so he continued. “She doesn’t want us to force him to stay if he wants to go, and we’ll honor that.”

Shanks tilted his head back, a heavy sigh forced out of him. Mihawk tried again, but he knew that none of the words that flew through his mind would help this moment. This guilt. 

“So it’s up to Buggy,” Shanks whispered before walking away, leaving Mihawk with his empty dirt. 

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

“Want me to drain the life out of him,” Crocodile grumbled as he opened the door to the lounge. True laughter let your lips now, and you took in a deep breath as you hugged his waist. The pleased hum that rumbled through him felt almost too comforting as he brushed your hair from your face. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Crocodile’s desk was comically large, and you wondered if he could hide a person in the bottom drawer. He stole your focus again, offering you a seat on his lap.

Work…

It was ridiculous how eager you were, how much you craved his attention. 

“Top drawer, darlin,” he rasped, not reaching down to meet your lips as you leaned into him. 

“Okay,” you blinked, stuck for a moment before you obeyed. The heavy wood slid open, revealing your notebook with all of your contacts, and their details. Your blood chilled when you set it on the desk, his voice taking too long to question you, leaving you in the discomfort.

“Do these people know your secret?”

Your body slumped at his question, his voice not cold or angry, but still not the way you wanted him to talk to you.

He’s never going to talk to me that way again. It’s over.

Heat built up in your throat as the grief and fear you’d been ignoring all this time crashed over you. 

“Hey,” he soothed, guiding your weak body to sit on the desk, your feet dangling between his legs as he studied you. The back of his golden hook lifted your chin. That hook you knew you should still be afraid of, but instead made you sigh, savoring its cool touch. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, babydoll,” he urged, and his sweetness brought a tiny choked sob from your throat. Then the sweetness was replaced with a steady calm, a voice that could tip either way. “I promised you that you could tell us after, but I need your word, Y/N. Give me your word that your secret won’t cause any problems at the party. If you can’t do that–”

“I’ll tell you,” you gave in, tears already racing down your cheeks, sobs too heavy to swallow were ripped from you until he pulled you to him.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” Crocodile whispered, only making your cries more painful. He held you as you ruined his silk vest, falling to pieces in his arms.

“I don’t want it to be over,” you finally managed, hating yourself for crying, for thinking you could have this. You met his eyes, wanting to shrivel up, and disappear from the concern and questions they held. “Can I… can I please have one more day?”

His pause felt like more weight tied to your limbs, dragging you under.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, carrying you to the couch to stroke your hair, and call you pretty things while you tried to stuff all those tears back inside. 

~~~~~~

Crocodile stayed with you, the bandage on his palm tickling your skin as he left soothing touches on your arms and back while you cleaned yourself up. 

“How did you get hurt,” you choked, searching for anything that would get your mind off of it. “I thought you couldn’t…”

Regretting the question, you cowered under that frightening stare through the mirror. 

“I have a secret too,” he rasped, his breath slowing as he stared through you. “Can I trust you, sweetheart? Since you’re sharing yours…”

“I—” you started, body humming, tingling with fear and something else from the intensity in that deep voice. “I promise. I’ll keep your secret.”

Crocodile leaned over you, enveloping you to turn on the faucet. 

“Try to punch my hand, sweetheart.”

Questions filled you, but you obeyed, fascinated at the sight of his flesh turning to sand to avoid the blow. He reached lower, letting water rush over his fingers, coating the back of his hand. 

“Again.”

No hesitation as you followed his addictive voice, you gasped as your fist connected with the center of his palm, punching straight into the center of the bandage. 

“What—“

He went to his knees, turning you to face him, gripping your hand in his.

“Sand doesn’t flow when it’s wet,” he whispered, the dangers of what he was sharing sending chills through you. “I can’t protect you as well when liquid touches my skin. Remember that, sweetheart, but never speak of it.”

“Never,” you vowed, wanting to cry again from his trust in you. “I promise, daddy.”

~~~~~~

Your attempts to clean your grief away didn’t matter. Every other lover clocked the evidence in your eyes when lunch rolled around.

“Pretty star, you okay, baby?”

“I’ll be okay,” you probably lied, wondering if Crocodile would punish you if it never came true. Buggy wrapped his arms around you, trapping you in place as you caught Shanks’ gaze behind him. The crease between his brows could have been for anything, and you didn’t have the energy to guess what he was thinking.

“What happened,” Mihawk asked, an unfamiliar strain in that liquid voice as he sat you down beside him. He held your face, studying you so intensely it felt like your skin would go raw. 

“Y/N’s going to tell us her secret tomorrow instead of after the party, but we can discuss that in the morning,” Crocodile ordered as leaned back to blow smoke away from the group. “Let’s enjoy the day, the next few are bound to be hectic.”

Avoiding so many eyes ruined any appetite you might have had, but you did accept a few more pieces of fruit from your clown, his eyes going soft when you smiled.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“How the fuck am I supposed to work like this,” Buggy snapped to no one in particular, pacing as he reviewed his plans, needing everything to be perfect. 

All he could think about were Y/N’s red eyes.

And before he’d seen her like that, all he could think about was that stupid red hair. 

He checked every light, barked at every musician until they were all in tune, and snapped at the kitchen staff to coordinate dinner with the show. The clown went over every single detail until a light sheen of sweat coated his skin, making his greasepaint too shiny under the stage lights. 

Now and then, Buggy would remember that this wasn’t just a show. This was it. 

His one chance to prove that he wasn’t a worthless piece of shit.

“Which idiot left this fucking table here,” he spat, focusing on anything else. Anything but the way his pretty star had seen him bleeding on the floor, useless to protect her. Anything but the tears she must have cried today. Anything but that thing he refused to think about.

Anything but that stupid red hair.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Shanks purred, lounging on a loveseat while he watched you twirl for Mihawk, still deciding what you should wear. “I think I’m–”

“An asshole,” you quipped, trying not to gloat as Crocodile’s pleased laughter floated through the suite. Mihawk just cleared his throat, fetching another dress. 

“Jealous,” Shanks confessed, eyes shining with amusement even as his voice went serious. “I’ve been a jealous brat, and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out for a long moment. The air was thick with the silence of the other men in the room. 

“A jealous brat, and an asshole,” you finally teased, the air shifting again as if time had reset itself. “Don’t forget that part.”

A shocked, yet playful grin hit his parted lips, then his eyes trailed down your body until you shivered. It hadn’t felt strange to stand there in lingerie until this moment, until the subtle bite he gave to his bottom lip before meeting your eyes again. 

“How could I forget, when I’ve got such a sweet little bunny to remind me?”

“Not yours,” Crocodile warned. 

“Of course,” Shanks conceded with a nod toward the larger man, though he never stopped watching you. 

Mihawk kissed your shoulder while he pulled you into another dress, and a bit of tension returned to your body as his silence continued. The instinctual fear that silence meant someone was mad at you made your stomach flip, but you couldn’t handle any more stress at the moment, so you shoved yet another feeling as far away as you could. 

You were grateful that his hands still touched you, even though his wicked voice was absent.

Shanks hopped up from the couch, his informal attire switched out for slightly less informal attire that suited him well. Darker fabrics, with no trace of sand, made his skin gleam as he sauntered over to you. He took your hand gently, leaning down as he gave you that disarming smile you’d seen when he first walked into your world.  

“Think you can forgive this jealous, bratty, asshole, Miss Y/N?,” he charmed, the force of it hitting you like a lovely ton of bricks. 

“Maybe,” you managed, unable to hold onto that bite in your voice. 

“I’ll take maybe,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before Crocodile pulled your hand away. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he prodded before leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Let’s go see our clown.”

~~~~~~

“What do you think, rabbit,” Mihawk checked in, pulling your eyes from the stage. “Will those boring, wealthy clients of yours enjoy this little show?”

Buggy was tossing daggers at his empty wheel. There was no poor soul strapped on for a spin, so Buggy called out parts of the Marine’s symbol that was freshly painted across the wood, landing every shot. Performers and dancers took turns on the small stage, music and lights bringing everything to life.

You knew Buggy was nervous, but as soon as the spotlight touched him, he was in another world. 

Your shining star. 

He led the show before and during the lavish meal, until it would be time for him to hand over the reins, time to drain as many berries as possible from the guests. His speech was the perfect amount of charming and frightening that any of those guests would be craving for their little adventure, their little holiday getaway. 

Crocodile grumbled when Buggy urged him and Mihawk to stand from their place at the long, head table beside you, shaking his head when the clown announced them as his “Executives.”

“And let’s give a round of applause for our Chief Financial Officer, the stunning and talented, Miss Y/N!”

Choking on a sip of wine, you caught Buggy’s exaggerated wink, your coughs turning to laughs as Mihawk pulled you to stand. You smiled at empty tables, pride followed by emptiness when you remembered your promise for tomorrow. 

“Sorry we didn’t have time to find a promotion gift for you, sweetheart,” Crocodile rasped as he kissed your cheek. 

“I have some ideas,” Mihawk purred, his breath teasing along your ear after he kissed your other cheek.

“Are you serious,” you laughed, your body tingling as Buggy’s head flew toward you, stealing a kiss. “I don’t need anything, this is…”

Shanks interrupted your almost tears, lifting his glass up with a shout.

“To Y/N! Buggy, can the band stick around for a bit? Your C.F.O. deserves a party!”

Buggy obeyed without a thought, and soon the air was filled with joyful music, your body starting to sway.

“May I have the first dance,” Shanks grinned, stepping around Mihawk to offer you his hand.

You could almost feel it as the bodies around you went stiff. 

“I’m a terrible dancer,” you said softly, though you couldn’t stop swaying.

“Who cares,” the Emperor laughed, the infectious sound pulling you in. “Let’s go see how much fun we can have with three hands, and three left feet.”

Your hand was in his before you realized you’d moved, and he whisked you away. No one stopped you, and soon you were giggling too much to think about why they would.

“Are you this bad too, or are you just trying to make me feel better about myself?”

“You’ll have to keep dancing to find out,” he teased before grabbing your waist, pressing his hips against you. “Maybe we just need a different dance.”

Already breathless, you stopped breathing completely when he stared down at you, pressing his hand into your lower back. You swore you could feel his pulse against your skin as you swayed together.

“I love how happy he is,” Shanks whispered, guiding you closer to the stage, the music louder with every inch. “That’s your doing, isn’t it, bunny?”

Shanks’ eyes flicked back to you from over your shoulder, and he rotated your bodies so you could look for yourself. You’d already seen Buggy laying across the table in front of Crocodile and Mihawk, alternating between watching and cheering you on, and animatedly talking to his “Executives” about the show. Now you noticed Mihawk massaging Buggy’s disconnected hand the way he always does for you when you’re sitting beside him. A tentative warmth surged through your chest, even though Mihawk dropped Buggy’s hand when he caught you looking.

“You’re running from something, aren’t you?”

The heat in his almost silent voice, and the way he guided your body against his confused the icy fear that those words shot through you. You gasped, almost moaning when he flipped you around, his knees bent a bit as he rubbed against you from behind. His fingers dug into your hip with such strength and control that your body ached to feel them inside you right there on the dancefloor. 

He leaned down, breathing against your ear, the music vibrating through you with so much force that you could barely hear him. 

“There’s no better place to run than the sea. You can be free, Y/N, and we can make him happy together. We can live his dre–”

“Mind if I cut in?”

A voice as sharp as a blade chilled your blood, but Shanks didn’t let you go just yet. He hugged you to him, kissing your cheek, and you could feel a smile on his lips before he released you. His thumb rubbed over your fingers as he lifted your hand to place into Mihawk’s, who held his outstretched while he watched Shanks’ every move.

What happened? Why are they so–

“Hello, darling,” Mihawk purred, interrupting your thoughts as he pulled your body against his. You smiled up at him weakly, moving how his hands pushed and pulled. 

“What’s wrong, pet?”

Shaking out of your daze, you blinked up into those golden, searching eyes.

“Noth–”

Fingers like daggers pressed into your back, pulling away in an instant, your gasp lasting longer than the pain. Those eyes were wide now as he scanned your face, and you held your breath.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, the words sounding strange, as if he’d just learned them. “I’d hate to tattle on you, rabbit. Although I must confess, I am morbidly curious to see what daddy does to liars.”

A nervous laugh left your throat, and he gave you a few moments to breathe as he guided your steps around the gleaming floor. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried,” you managed, knowing that wouldn’t be enough. His stare confirmed it, so you tried to find a way to hide without lying. 

I can’t tell them. What if they’re angry? What if they fight, or kick him out? What if Buggy can't live his dream because of me?

What if I want to—

You shut down your thoughts, the sound of Buggy’s joyful voice pulling your eyes away.

“I’m worried about what’s gonna happen with…”

Mihawk followed your line of sight, catching the old lovers laughing. Shanks’ hand rested on Buggy’s thigh while he listened to the clown’s stories, the adoration on his face so vivid it was almost funny.

Almost funny, if not for the fact that the look on Buggy’s face was starting to match it more with each passing minute in the red haired pirate’s company. 

“Is my old friend hurting you, love?”

Mihawk had stopped dancing you, tilting your chin up toward him.

“Only by existing,” you laughed, not sure if you were dizzy from dancing, or from the chaos of emotions that Shanks had made you feel since he’d invaded your life the day before. 

“Come on, Miss C.F.O.” Shanks beamed. His eyes were obscured by Buggy’s extravagant hat, sitting askew on that pretty red hair. “It’s afterparty time!”

The two of them dragged you along, almost pulling you into your old suite before other hands pulled you back into the hallway. 

“You wanna sleep in there again,” Crocodile asked, and you almost felt fear as his frustration with your guest had seemed to build and build. But all you had to do was tell him what you wanted. 

“I do,” you breathed, going on tiptoes even though you’d never be able to reach his lips on your own. “Goodnight, daddy.”

His annoyed huff held a bit of satisfaction after your words, and you melted into the kiss he gave you. 

“I’m right next door, sweet girl.”

Mihawk pulled you aside, and you waited for evil, filthy words as he pressed you against the wall of the corridor, everyone else already in their chosen suites. It was hard to tell on his bored face that he’d worn most of the day, but he seemed to be frowning at you as he ran his fingers through your hair before cradling your face. 

He didn’t say anything for too long, until you flinched at the burst of laughter from the middle suite. 

“You are not a pet.”

“W-what–”

“You are not a toy,” Mihawk continued, those whispered words sounding vicious, speeding your pulse. “Do you understand?”

You lied with a nod, not knowing what else to say to those burning, golden eyes. 

“May I kiss you,” he breathed after staring at you some more. He tasted your lips as soon as you gave another nod. 

“Mmn,” you moaned into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he kissed you with all that wicked passion you crave from him. His fingers curled into your hair, and he bit your lip before letting his tongue claim you again. 

You were whimpering, whining now, gasping as he lifted you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you lost yourself as he growled against your lips, grinding himself against your core.

“Mihawk…”

His teeth were on your neck, biting deep, biting until your body tightened with need. That sharp, growing pain was its own pleasure, and you pulled at his soft, black hair until he moaned around your skin. Slick was smearing over his leather pants, your dress hiking up until your drenched cunt rubbed over the fabric, nothing but lace panties in the way.

“Always so greedy,” Shanks purred, leaning against the doorframe. His voice was light, a friendly tease, but the hallway felt sickeningly heavy, like gravity had increased, and you’d all be crushed to the floor.

Mihawk released your neck from his teeth, but pressed his forehead against the wall for a few seconds, leaving you to stare at Shanks, then Buggy over his shoulder, and then Crocodile who opened the other door to scowl at the scene. The swordsman lowered you gently, smoothing your dress into place, and whispering in your ear while he fixed your mussed hair. 

“Just say my name,” he breathed before turning around, failing to fix his own mussed up hair.

“The little rabbit and I were just saying goodnight,” he brushed off, heading toward the door. “See you all in the morning.”

Everyone stared as he left, until Crocodile frowned at you. You gave a weak smile and a shrug, and he narrowed his eyes, but let Buggy pull you along. 

Two doors shut, leaving that heavy air to fester in the corridor.

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

“What the fuck was that about?”

Mihawk didn’t reply, refusing any thoughts until he had a glass of wine. Something to sip, something to hold, something to stare at.

“Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile growled, moving to loom over the man who’d just gulped down a glass of wine he’d normally savor before pouring another. “What happened? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the world’s greatest swordsman is throwing a tantrum.”

Mihawk barked a laugh, walking away from the larger man without looking up to meet his eyes. 

“You may be right,” he said wistfully, wandering through the suite until he stopped at the heavy trunks they hadn’t finished unpacking. He lifted one of the lids, revealing the pile of fantasy books Crocodile had gifted Y/N. 

Mihawk frowned at the colorful covers, thinking about his own gift. He’d remembered that she said she loved cats.

But he would have gotten Adam for himself anyway. 

Crocodile’s body was on edge, waiting for danger as he observed the man before him. It was still Mihawk, still powerful, graceful, yet his usual faces of boredom or vicious glee were dulled, and Crocodile did not fucking like it. 

Mihawk ran his fingers over one of the covers, tracing the shape of a dragon before he snatched the book up. He could feel the other man’s steely eyes as he plopped onto the loveseat by that connecting wall, a new one brought in since the scotch covered sofa had stunk up the whole suite.

Crocodile sat beside him, still watching, still waiting as Mihawk sipped his wine, and tried to read about dragons and heroes.

“Should I just guess what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

A brief exhale, and an almost smile left the man who turned a page he hadn’t read. Still, he put it all away. Put everything away.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need, little bird.”

Golden eyes shot up toward Crocodile, as if he’d offered a threat instead of whatever those words were. 

Crocodile bit his tongue, refusing to look away, and reveal the discomfort he felt as those words slipped past his better judgment. 

Mihawk had never had a day like this. A day when sharp words wouldn’t leave his lips, when sharp blades could do nothing for him. A day filled with so much guilt it made him unsteady. There were plenty of guilty days to forget or regret, but this one felt violent, urgent, and he didn’t know what to do with it all. 

What to do with Y/N.

The words, “Shanks is right,” played on a loop, until his mind was sick of everything but wine. 

“I don’t like the silent treatment.”

There wasn’t real danger, Mihawk’s body didn’t register it. Yet Crocodile fisted his hair, yanking his neck back to expose his throat until that sharp point kissed it, cold metal ready to spill red.

Mihawk had dropped the book onto his lap, though never dropped a glass of precious wine, especially over his clothes. His lips parted, forgetting everything in his mind for just a moment as that scarred face lowered over his.

“Are you gonna tell daddy what’s wrong, or do I need to tear it out of you?”

The swordsman’s body went loose, his eyes rolling back as Crocodile pressed their cheeks together, rubbing along his skin as he breathed in the scent of him. 

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Crocodile released him, brushing his thumb over those pretty lips while Mihawk caught his breath. The satisfaction that pulsed through Crocodile at the other man’s fluttering eyes was intense, piercing, and he had to hold himself still. 

Had to remind himself that he needed to know what the fuck was going on.

Mihawk hated how much he missed the touch of that hand when it was removed from his skin. Hated how needy, how fucking weak he was. Hated that no matter what he did, he would be betraying someone. Hated having to decide who it would be. 

Hated the sick wish that he could stop caring again, that he could treat everything as meaningless. 

That was how he ended up here in the first place. 

Finally, he took another large swig of wine, choosing to side with the friend that would never forgive him. Even though he might lose everything. 

“I have come to the unpleasant realization that I am a bad person,” Mihawk drawled, his voice almost perfect as he straightened up.

The deep, overwhelming laughter of the man beside him made him forget the world again, shock and annoyance pouring through him. 

“I didn’t realize my existential crisis would be so amusing to–”

“Where do you think you are,” Crocodile choked out, still laughing as he wiped a bit of moisture from his eyes. He gestured to the suite, to himself, shaking his head. “Did you forget what this fucking Guild is for? We are all very bad people.”

Mihawk’s mouth hung slack for a moment, until his head fell back. Laughter, thick as honey, filled the air between them, until his hand grazed the book in his lap, tracing over that colorful dragon. 

Crocodile couldn’t shake the feeling that the swordsman was holding things back. He wanted to pull until he got the whole truth, but there was something in Mihawk’s eyes that made him quiet, made him want to see the man with that wicked smile again first.

“Come on, little prince,” Crocodile soothed as he stood, holding out his hand. “Wanna show me what a bad person you are?”

A tiny version of that smile graced those lips, and Crocodile inhaled pride as he stared down at his little prince. 

His breath caught at the thought, at all these dangerous, stupid, distracting thoughts. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Mihawk purred, his voice breathy as he held himself under his mountain of guilt. “But I had hoped to rest and listen tonight, if that’s alright?”

Crocodile nodded, unease flooding his veins again. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing. 

“How are they doing in there,” he asked softly, wanting to shake the man, but not wanting to push their new arrangement too far. 

“Oh, they’re having a wonderful time,” Mihawk reported. The words that would have been tasty the night before were like ashes on his tongue, and he went to pour himself another glass so he could stomach listening. 

Mihawk just brought the bottle with him, drowning while he listened to Shanks steal away both of his shiny new toys.

Hoping that Crocodile wouldn’t hate him for letting it happen.

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

“Afterparty,” Buggy yelled, pressing that sexy music tone dial before floating you through the air. Giggling, you reached for him, pulling his hair loose to flow around you both. 

“You were amazing, Bugs,” you grinned, the tension of the hallway forgotten when he looked at you. 

“Of course I was,” he agreed, making you gasp when he connected with his lower body to press you onto the bed. His weight was such a perfect relief from every worried thought you wanted to burn. 

Shanks sat on the corner of the bed, but Buggy distracted you, kissing across your face, your chest, humming until you squirmed beneath him. He went still, his face hovering above yours with one of your favorite smiles. Soft and sweet, his crystal blue eyes dancing over your features as if needing to catch every slight movement, every piece of you. 

“Bug–”

“You’re my shining star, Y/N,” he confessed, a reverent tone in his voice that made you shake your head, twisting under him. 

“I thought you were the shining star,” you purred, struggling as he trapped your arms, holding your body down. “You’re the shining star of the show, and I’m the pretty star by your side, helping you shine.”

Buggy’s eyes looked down as he quirked his fading red lips, and your cheerful tease felt wrong. Anxiety started to fill you until he met your eyes again. He kissed you slowly, deep and thorough, savoring every bit of you until you whimpered, then you tasted his smile before he pulled back. 

“You’re my shining star, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your cheeks before kissing your puckered lips. “You’re my everything.”

Joy was everywhere as Buggy kissed your lips, then down your neck and shoulders, both of you laughing as you pulled him to you. 

You went cold when you remembered what the morning held, desperate to hang onto this feeling for as long as you could. Your head relaxed to the side as you tried to breathe out those thoughts, and you found Shanks observing you. You felt bare before him, like he could see through every uncomfortable feeling you tried to shove down. 

“She’s your star, huh, Buggy,” he purred, trailing his hand through Buggy’s hair until he stopped kissing your neck to look at the red haired man. 

“Of course she is,” Buggy bragged, tracing a gloved finger around your face. “Just look at her.”

His name left your lips in nothing more than a whimper, and you loved the way it made him straighten, his chin raising slightly as if your voice could lift him up. 

“I watched you feeding her fruit all day,” Shanks’ voice shifted, moving his hand down Buggy’s arm to his wrist before pulling those gloved fingers up to kiss his knuckles. “You were getting her ready for me, weren’t you? Want me to taste your shining star? Make her scream for you?”

Buggy lifted off of you, sitting back on his heels. His hungry eyes looked back and forth between you and his old friend, and you knew it was true. 

“Mm, I knew it,” Shanks rasped, now pulling your hand up for a kiss, staring heat into your skin. “Buggy wants me to taste you. Can I please taste you, little bunny?”

The weight of both of their stares tore you free from the world. You had to say yes. 

“Please.”

“Such a good girl,” Shanks praised, moving between your legs as Buggy helped you out of your dress, your bra, stopping there when Shanks reached out. “Hold on, friend. These are too pretty to get rid of so soon.”

He followed that order by pressing his hand down over the top of your thigh, and rubbing his thumb up and down over your lace covered clit. 

“Please,” you gasped, back arching when Buggy pinned your wrists. He sat behind your head, facing Shanks across your body, and you could see his breathing shift while he stared at the other man.

“Bunny’s being so polite,” Shanks taunted, his voice laced with danger that had your heart racing, “but if you don’t tell me what you’re begging for, I’ll just have to guess.”

He emphasized his threat by pressing his thumb into your desperate, clothed cunt, the lace panties straining under the pressure of his touch. 

“Please, taste me,” you choked out, catching Buggy’s face above you as he scraped his lip though his teeth. 

“My pleasure,” Shanks teased, tugging that fabric down your hips until Buggy’s hands floated down to help. “You know what she likes. Gonna teach me, Buggy?”

“Fuck,” Buggy breathed whiled he watched Shanks setting himself up between your legs. “Fuck yeah. Kiss her clit first, Shanks. Lick and suck her like candy.”

“Anything you say, Bugs,” Shanks agreed, pressing that charming mouth to your core, and your mind couldn’t decide which name to moan, mixing sounds together. “Gods, she’s so sweet for me, Buggy.”

“Quit talking, and make my girl come,” Buggy demanded, grinning at you when his words made you moan. He kept giving Shanks commands, until you were shaking, and those brown eyes stared up at you with so much focus, it made you dizzy before you screamed, coming all over that charming face. 

“Pretty bunny,” Shanks hummed as he moved up your body. He kissed the taste of you into your mouth before leaning toward Buggy. They kissed above you, the sight making your whine. 

“Looks like she needs some more attention," Shanks whispered at Buggy, until they both smirked down at you. “Wanna teach me how to finger your pretty girl now? I bet you know her pretty pussy so well, huh? Know just how to make her scream?”

“Buggy…”

“You hear that, star,” Buggy bragged, kissing along your ear. “I’m gonna do a magic trick. Make you come without even touching my pretty girl. You want that, baby?”

“Yes, ple–”

“Shove two fingers inside her right now,” he ordered, and you cried out when his words came true. “Spread her out. You feel that perfect cunt, Shanks?”

“Fuck, yes, Buggy,” Shanks rasped while he scissored those fingers inside you, spreading and feeling around, exploring. “She feels–”

“Wreck her. Make her scream,” Buggy growled. 

Buggy sent one hand to trap both of yours, and pressed the other down on your lower stomach. You glanced down just in time to see the spark in Shanks’ eyes when Buggy commanded him, and then his fingers were so fucking deep. 

“You heard him, bunny,” Shanks taunted, a wicked laugh as his strong fingers fucked you until you forgot your name. “You gonna scream for him now, or do I need to shove my whole fist into this sweet, little pussy?”

“Fuck,” you moaned, then screamed as his fingers curled inside you, his thumb attacking your clit. Buggy laughed before kissing you, inhaling your screams until you twitched all the way through that pleasure, twitched until it was too much. 

“Bugs, did we kill your star,” Shanks teased in mock horror, lifting and dropping your limp arm. 

“Nuh uh, my baby can go all night, huh,” Buggy praised, kissing your cheek while you tried, and failed to move. “She just needs a little break.”

“Breaks are nice,” the red haired pirate hummed. He laid next to you, trailing his hand along your body, and you sighed as Buggy laid on your other side. Their bodies, their voices, their heat, everything helped. Everything was good. 

“I know you like to watch,” Shanks rasped, speaking to Buggy before directing his voice, and his wicked gaze to you. “But how about you, Y/N? Do you like to watch your shining star?”

“I–”

“Yeah, she does,” Buggy bragged, interrupting you before kissing your cheek. “You got in soo much trouble. Remember, baby? You couldn’t take your eyes off of me and Mihawk.”

You almost missed it when your eyes fluttered at the memory, but Shanks’ jaw clenched at Buggy’s playful words, his fingers pressing into your skin for a moment. 

“Do you wanna watch us, bunny? Watch me make your shining star feel good?”

Shanks’ request sounded light, sounded like fun, but you felt it. You felt the pain in him, and you watched him blink and move his eyes around, trying to hide it. He failed, those brown eyes heavy on yours until you smiled. 

“I wanna watch.”

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

Y/N’s voice was so sweet, so sweet when she said those words. 

And now Shanks was crawling over him, and Buggy stopped thinking. 

This couldn’t be real.

Shanks stared down at his old friend, his old lover, wanting to kiss Y/N again for giving consent. For giving permission for this moment right now. 

“Can I make you scream now, Bugs,” Shanks asked, tracing his fingers around Buggy’s face, his jaw. 

“You can try,” Buggy taunted back, but his hands had already flown away to grab a towel and lube, dropping them in front of Shanks with a grin. 

“Come here,” the red head growled, lunging forward to grab that beautiful blue hair. Kissing Buggy almost hurt from how unreal it felt. Years and years poured into each other, and Shanks straddled his old friend, uselessly pinning one of his wrists above his head. 

Dizzy. 

So fucking dizzy. 

Buggy knew he hadn’t drank enough tonight to feel like this. His gloved hands were shaking as they ran over Shanks’ bare skin beneath his loose shirt, and he couldn’t think clearly. Every time he almost had a thought, a hungry noise from his old friend’s throat would make him frantic. 

“Can I help you out of these,” Shanks purred, his eyes sparkling with old laughter as he sat back to grab one of Buggy’s hands. 

Buggy’s eyes flicked to Y/N, and her gorgeous smile made everything alright. 

“Mhm,” Buggy nodded as he tugged one of his gloves off with his teeth. Shanks did the same with the other hand, biting down, and pulling at the fabric.

“There’s my Bugs,” he breathed, kissing those bare fingers. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

A hint of ice flashed across Buggy’s face, and though the clown caught and killed it, giving a smile to cover it up, Shanks felt that ice slide down into his gut. 

“I’m—“

“Don’t you have something you’re supposed to be doing right now, shithead,” Buggy stopped him with a laugh, tracing along his waistband. “Or are you here to break more promises?”

“Take your clothes off, clown,” Shanks ordered, heat and happiness in his voice. The two of them stood, almost stumbling off the bed with a laugh while their hands searched and freed each other's bodies. Buggy turned to do a silly strip tease for Y/N, earning another beautiful smile as she bit her lip. 

Buggy almost leapt for her, but strong fingers fisted into his hair again, pulling him into another chaotic kiss. 

“Lie on your back. I wanna see your face when you make all those pretty noises for me.”

Shanks’ whispered command burned along his skin, making Buggy’s knees weak. Shanks used that opening to shove him onto the bed, finding his way between those thighs. The red haired pirate sat back on his heels as he watched Buggy’s chest heaving, his body already writhing. Smeared red lips, and sparkling, hungry eyes made the breath catch in his throat. 

This moment was frozen, crystallized in Shanks’ mind. A moment of elation and gratitude, shot through with grief that it would be the last. He swallowed that fear, refusing to believe it. 

Refusing to lose him again. 

“Well,” Buggy prodded, breathless as he gave an impatient face.

“Lube,” Shanks smirked as he held out his hand. Buggy’s floating hands filled his palm, then dropped the bottle as Shanks grabbed Buggy’s swollen cock instead of his own. “Couldn’t resist. You’ve got the prettiest clown dick I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck yo–” Buggy started, his words cut off by his own gasping moan when Shanks massaged a lubed finger around his asshole before pushing it inside him, slowly adding another. 

“Don’t worry, Bugs,” Shanks taunted as he watched Buggy’s face go desperate. “Help me get ready, I’ll give you what you need.”

The clown sent his hands to rub lube onto that veiny cock, just the touch of it making his eyes roll back. Thoughts kept trying to roll in now, to ruin this, but he shoved everything away. Right now their bodies were together, their bodies were taking pleasure, giving pleasure, and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but those soft, and dangerous eyes. 

No more words. No more teasing. 

Buggy held his thighs aside easily, all that circus flexibility having so many benefits, and helped Shanks line himself up. The touch of him, barely any pressure yet, was too much, not enough.

Shanks caught Buggy’s eyes as he sank into him inch by inch. He didn’t have to say it. Buggy kept those eyes on his, and Shanks felt the pleasure of watching Buggy fight not to break eye contact. The look of frantic, painful need on his clown’s face felt even better than that perfect tight pressure around his cock.

“You feel so fucking good, Buggy,” Shanks praised, falling forward onto his hand so he could be closer while he started to move, to fuck, to make Buggy moan. He was thrusting harder, more desperate with every breath. “How’s that feel, baby? Needed my cock, didn’t you?”

“Fuck, ye– fuck, please.”

“Please,” Shanks purred, slowing to smile down, noticing the matching sheens of sweat on their skin. “I want you, Buggy. I want you inside me right–”

Buggy’s cock floated out from between their bodies, his hands going so fast as he lubed himself up, then shoved fingers into Shanks ass while he laughed and moaned, still fucking into him. 

“Oh gods, yes,” Shanks breathed, pausing his movements while Buggy started filling him, taking him, fucking him. Shanks' eyes rolled white, throwing his head back as he started his rhythm again. 

Nothing could compare to this.

Not when he looked down into those perfect eyes, tears forming at the corners while his moans got louder with every rough thrust. Not when he lost himself inside Buggy’s body, while Buggy took and gave it all to him too. 

“Come inside me, Buggy, I need to feel you,” Shanks begged as his body fell apart, almost there, but not wanting it to end. “Gods, I missed you so fucking much, baby.”

“Shanks…” Buggy whined, feeling the insane moment of pleasure when they came inside each other, the heat and force of their come bringing wild, needy moans from their throats. 

Dripping with sweat now, they relearned how to breathe, still twitching inside each other. Buggy started to move, but Shanks dropped from his hand to his elbow beside Buggy’s head, pausing to look at him before he lowered his sweaty face down, kissing those faded red lips. 

Neither had any thoughts in that moment. They finally won that battle in their minds, that battle to enjoy this moment for what it was. Whatever it was. 

That kiss was the only thing in the world. 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

You weren’t breathing. You had no idea when you’d stopped, or if you’d ever start again. You might die on the edge of that bed, suffocating without ever making a sound. 

They wouldn’t even notice I died.

Bile rose up your throat at that hateful thought. 

It didn’t make sense. You felt so fucking selfish, so disgusting. What gave you the right to feel jealous? After everything Buggy went through, everything you put him through… 

They still haven’t noticed me. 

Entitled. Stupid. Ungrateful bitch. 

So many words and emotions flew through your mind, the speed and chaos of them only making your nausea worse. Anger, jealousy, self pity. 

You fought to keep your face neutral in case they remembered you were there, but your lip quivered, replaying every beautiful fucking moment. 

They love each other so much. 

Swallowing a sob, you dug your nails into your palms. 

I can’t have love. I can never have love.

All you wanted to do was disappear. 

“How’s my star,” Buggy asked, his voice shaky as he pulled away from his lover. 

“Beautiful, that’s how,” Shanks praised, mirroring Buggy as they moved in to kiss your cheeks. 

Liar. I’m a liar. 

Your practiced smile, your fake happiness that was trained into you since childhood lifted your lips, and you filled your eyes with as much of the truth as you could. You were happy for them. 

Part of you was, at least. 

Yawning instead of speaking, you let Buggy kiss you, giggling as he carried you to the shower. You felt lost, empty, trapped in an echoey room, only vaguely aware of the world outside. 

Buggy laid you on the soft carpet while they struggled to change the sheets, laughter, and insults, and deep, heated kisses kept interrupting their task until you wanted to scream. 

I just want to disappear. 

“Mihawk,” you breathed, hoping he could hear you over their laughter and moans as Shanks kissed along Buggy’s neck. 

“May I come in?”

The room froze at the knock, and the cold voice on the other side of the door. The lovers stepped away from each other before Buggy sent his hand to the doorknob. 

“What is it,” Shanks asked, his own voice drained of all the mirth it had held tonight. 

“Sir Crocodile,” Mihawk cleared his throat before his eyes found yours. “He’s tired of sleeping without his sweet girl. Would you mind, darling? You know how cranky he gets.”

“O-okay…”

Buggy came to your side, helping you up since your wobbly limbs didn’t seem to work anymore. 

“Thank you,” Shanks breathed into your ear before Buggy carried you to your golden eyed lover. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

His sweet words brought back the bile in your throat, and you thought you might explode if you had to hold up that performative happiness any longer. 

Get me out of here.

“Goodnight, my shining star,” Buggy hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple before placing you in Mihawk’s arms. He smiled at you, but didn’t wait for you to say anything in return before closing the door. 

“Shh,” Mihawk soothed, almost silent while you started to shake in his arms. 

It was just a few steps to the other door, which flew open as Crocodile stood waiting, anger radiating off of him. 

“What the fuck happened? Get out of my–”

“They didn’t hurt her, Crocodile,” Mihawk sighed, walking into the room, and softly kicking the door shut behind him. “At least not on purpose. You’re okay, right, love?”

You were gone now, everything was foggy, and nothing mattered. It was nice.

“Why do you smell like four different wines?”

Both of them paused before Crocodile sat on the edge of the bed, deep, belly laughs filling the air. Mihawk looked half annoyed, and half pleased, eyes dancing over your face. 

“Five actually, but I’m impressed. My lovely, little bloodhound,” he purred as he laid you in the center of that giant bed. Stroking your hair, he whispered the words that finally broke you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It was a silent, choked nothing at first, your body almost heaving as it tried to fight. Heat built and rolled through your throat until burning tears finally fell, and it felt like the bile would soon follow.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Crocodile calmed, sliding in beside you until they both touched your skin, both watched you struggle to breath around tears that made you sick. “Tell me what you need, Y/N. Anything for my sweet girl.”

You almost begged for them to make the night end, but knew the morning would bring fresh, new pain. Your last night before it was over, and you spent it twitching with pathetic, quiet sobs, unable to ask these men for help. Their comfort only made it worse, and after tomorrow, they would never look at you this way again. 

Would they still care if you cried? Would they use you just like everyone else?

Would they send you back?

They held you now as you lived in this torture of a night you needed to end, and a morning you needed to never begin. 

Somehow sleep ripped you from the world, shoving you back onto stormy seas. You hung on for dear life, waiting for that voice to call your name. 

That voice didn’t call tonight. 

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

a/n: Writing this chapter was such a blast! Helped me through a tough week, and pushed me to write outside of my comfort zone. I would be eternally grateful if you tell me how you felt about the drama! I've been going nuts holding all this in 😅 Also, sorry about the big pile of emotions!! 😭

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki

Part 19

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

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

#cross guild smut #mihawk smut #sir crocodile smut #buggy smut #one piece smut #cross guild x reader #mihawk x reader #sir crocodile x reader #buggy x reader #crocodile x reader #cross guild polycule #shuggy smut #shanks smut #shanks x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #x reader #one piece fanfic #buggy fanfiction #dracule mihawk x reader #crochawk smut #crocodile x mihawk #cw blood #dark content #smut #use of y/n #turtletaub fics

[anonymouspuzzler]

everyone has been so darned kind about the update!! to everyone who has taken a peek at our work, explored the site, shared it with their friends, drawn fanart, done ANIMATICS, MUSIC VIDEOS, everything and anything - thank you, thank you, thank you!!

also here's a lot of little doodles i found i did during production that i completely forgot about until now. the last little comic is a True Story that happened when i was hosting the exhibition

[Image IDs/transcripts under cut!]

[Image 1 ID: A full-color, digital drawing of a puppet version of Puzz lifting up Wally on her right hip. Wally is smiling gently and waving with his right arm. There is a light green and blue gradient behind them, and rainbow text above their heads reading "THANK YOU!" with little heart symbols in several colors. End ID.]

[Image 2 ID: A photo of Puzz and the Wally puppet, with a caricature of Puzz's face drawn over where her head would be. She is wearing read heart earrings and has her hair in a curly updo similar to Wally's pompadour. She is smiling with her tongue sticking out, looking into the camera. Wally is also smiling into the camera, one arm resting behind Puzz's back and the other hand on her arm. There is an arrow pointing to Puzz with handwritten text reading "PUZZ!" in blue colored pencil, and various yellow- and blue stars drawn around the image. End ID.]

[Image 3 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Puzz sitting at a messy L-shaped desk. She is wearing a baggy black t-shirt over a striped long-sleeve shirt, a grey skirt, and tights with a swirly pattern. There is a laptop to Puzz's right, a takeout container and cup of pens to her left, and a monitor right in front of her. There is a close-up image of Eddie's smiling face on the monitor. Puzz leans in close with an intense, thoughtful expression, going "hmm...". End ID.]

[Image 4 ID: A black-and-wite digital ink drawing showing Wally watching in horror as Puzz, spinning in circles with a vapid grin, ascends into the sky with a giant box balanced on top of her head. Her tiny top hat is in turn balanced on top of the box. End ID.]

[Image 5 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of puppet Puzz and Wally. Puzz is standing in front of Wally, back facing the viewer, with an empty grin. Wally, who is about a full head taller, looks down at her with dumbfounded horror, apparently unable to comprehend someone being smaller than him. There are several question marks above his head. End ID.]

[Image 6 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Wally. He is leaning against a surface holding a phone, staring at the viewer with a gentle smile. He is holding the phone to his ear with his left hand and twirling the cord around his finger with his right. End ID.]

[Image 7 ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Frank and Barnaby. They are recreating the meme image of two men in the snow, with Frank looking off to the right holding a small snowball in his hands, while Barnaby jumps up behind him holding a huge snowball, grinning widely and prepared to Dunk. End ID.]

[Image 8 ID: A black-and-white digital ink comic about Puzz and Wally at the Playfellow Exhibition. Puzz, wearing a N95 mask and dressed up like Wally, holds the Wally puppet on her left. In front of them is a woman with a short bob haircut and striped shirt, holding the toy phone receiver up to her ear. In the first panel, the woman says, "this is your voice?", to which Wally nods and Puzz looks on. In the second panel, the woman cheerfully adds, "you have a sexy voice!", to which Puzz and Wally both look shocked. The third and fourth panels shows Puzz and Wally looking at each other, then back at the woman. The final panel shows Wally covering his face with one hand and ducking his face into Puzz's shoulder in embarrassment, while Puzz and the woman both laugh good-naturedly. End ID.]

#anonymous puzzler art #welcome home #apparently necessary disclaimer of THAT PICTURE IS NOT CLOWN IT'S ME (bc people just keep Assuming Things) #also don't read in too deep to any of these images LOL most of 'em were just idle doodling during meetings. no Lore Implications to be had #only silly goofs and gaffs and laffs here #long post /

[onyourhyuck]

Dog Sitting Gone Wrong. | Z.CL

— Prologue: “You hired a babysitter for your dog?” + “Daughter actually, she’s my daughter.”

— Summary: You were hired by a rich man to babysit his daughter, when you arrive you realise his daughter is a dog and you’re now dog sitting while he is out running errands.

— Genre: SMUT. Kind of Crack and Fluffy too. There is literally no Chenle smut on this platform this is a crime. Daegal is mentioned here hehe. Y/n has a slight fear of dogs. Chenle’s literally the best single dog dad ever. Things get very spicy in the kitchen… Kitchen sex, praising and use of the term ‘Pretty Slut’ in the fic.

— Notes: I love this concept I feel so proud coming up with it.

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When you heard you’re hired by a rich anonymous man to babysit his kid you didn’t mean you were going to baby sit a freaking white dog that’s now sitting on the floor looking at you like you’re some burglar ready to be gnawed.

The rich man himself didn’t specify but you’re pretty sure he wrote to you a message that contains ‘daughter’ and not a ‘dog’ in the text so now you’re confused if this is the right man. You’re doubting your eyes right now too.

Who in the world hire a babysitter to look after their dog? It’s like he’s purposely trolling you but when Chenle saw your daze expression mixing in like a cocktail at a party event he realised your expression was actually true and you seem confused.

You look at the handsome man with white-ish platinum hair and beautiful pale skin matching the colour of his hair. It makes him look like a real size fairy. Your eyes spoke a lot more than your brain could ever comprehend right now because zero words can describe what you want to say.

“Where is your daughter?” You ask deadpanning at the man.

Chenle looks back at you as if it wasn’t freaking obvious it’s not like Daegal is hard to miss is she? He points his gaze down at the fluff ball in front of your figure and your eyes meet with the dog again. She really didn’t seem to like you, in fact every time you look at her Daegal seems to be sinking her teeth or at least imagining she is sinking her teeth into you.

He points out bluntly now. “Right there, that’s her.”

You want to laugh. Actually you’re not sure if you should laugh or if you should cry. You forgot to mention, you’re freaking terrified of dogs. You’ve always been terrified of dogs and heck you’re now forced to look after one? You’re not sure if the money is worth it anymore but then you remember how much he’s willing to pay you and you stand your ground; maybe the money is so worth it.

Your gaze turns back to Chenle away from his dog now. “You hired a babysitter for your dog?” You said with a confused trial you’re trying so hard not to offend this man, you are in his freaking mansion after-all. However you like to admit his house is pretty damn fancy and modern. Everything looks designed based on his own taste.

If only you were this rich that you can afford a babysitter for your own pet. Heck. He’s paying a lot of money to dog-sit this animal and you’re terrified by the idea of it.

Chenle seems to quip in to interrupt and cut you off when you called his daughter a dog. Of course he knows Daegal is a dog but she’s much more than that to him and he didn’t really like the tone you used either when saying how he hired a babysitter.

“Daughter actually, she’s my daughter.” Chenle points out to you with a little glare and you found yourself nervously sweating.

He seems pretty darn serious and protective of this small harmless dog right? Surely she is harmless. Well you hope she is because if she comes any closer to you and bites you, you might actually cry.

“Right… and I’m Shakira.” You say under your breath now sarcastically although you made sure that Chenle couldn’t hear you at all.

You turn to Daegal and then to Chenle again as you speak with a little sigh. You have no choice but to accept this situation. The money is big, you should survive a few hours and just dip to get the money after.

“So how long will you be out doing your errands?” You now ask him as you change the topic conversation around.

You need to know how long you’re going to be stuck with this dangerous beast in the house.

Chenle spoke back casually leaving you off guard. “I’ll be back at 9.50pm.” You stare at the man with widen eyes. What? That late!?

You’re left wondering what on earth does this man have to do that he’s gone for full thirteen freaking hours leaving you alone with his dog that he claims to be his daughter. Was this man even worth it? Can you stand being in this house before your own panic attack comes and says hello to you and murders you? It’s either going to be your own anxiety killing you or this bloody dog in front of you growling at each step you make with your feet.

You let out a little nervous laugh. “Haha… no problem. Yep. I can handle it.”

But the money? It’s a literal jackpot. You need it.

Chenle gives you a smile when you said you can handle it as you try to hide your doubts away from this man, all because he’s freaking loaded. Oh the things you do for money is insane. Chenle grabs his coat from the cloak hanger and puts it on. He then turns to you once more and gives you long list of instructions to do.

It seems like he put up a whole list that you can do for Daegal if anything comes up.

Which makes you nervous, why does he need a long ass list? You hate to admit but this dog lives better than you.

“Okay so Daegal likes cold waters, do not use the hot water. You need to groom her with delicate oils and brush, remember this. You can’t give her too many treats or else she might get fat I don’t want her to be too big.”

You stare into the open space as he said many more things that you will need to do for this dog and it’s almost like she’s human to him. It makes you wonder how can this dog be so pampered and loved while you have to work a 9 to 5 shift babysitting and now you’re stuck with a dog that by the way you have a rational fear of dogs; no matter the size or the breed. You’re just scared of them from very bad experiences when your childhood was going on.

You heard Chenle’s voice break off as he calls you out into reality. “Y/n you with me? Did you get everything I said to you?” He now asked you and your eyes move to watch him again and you clear your voice.

“Uh yeah, i got everything don’t worry.” You now said and nod giving him a little approval expression because you just gotta fake it till you make it right now. There’s no way you’ll remember everything he just listed on.

“Okay good, I’ll see you later. Just give me a call if you need to know anything.”

The door opens and you watch the man leave which then leaves you finally alone with the enemy in the house. You slowly turn around and see little Daegal looking quite intimidating for your own good and safety. She was on her feet stomping and growling at you now a lot more and she’s threatening to jump and attack you, god knows why and god knows why you’re trembling against a small dog like her.

You feel your voice tremble and your eyes are stuck onto the white fluffy dog as she’s watching you with every corner of your movements. She saw that you’re trying to walk around her and just make a run for it and you let out soft stutters.

“G-good doggy yeah… goooooodddd doggy…” You say with a little bit of a scared tone as you then run around the corner and make a run for it now out of the corridors at the front entrance. It was like a reception area almost.

This must be the most embarrassing thing ever. You’ve never struggled to babysit before anyone. Literally all kids love you. Animals love you. So why was Daegal chasing you and barking at you across the house that you’re running away from her? She’s literally out to get you for some weird reason.

Maybe Daegal doesn’t like you specifically? Chenle never really mentioned Daegal to ever be an aggressive dog but she really don’t like you.

You stand on the couch now with a pillow protectively like a shield when Daegal caught up in the fancy large open side living room. This modern house has at least four floors you believe, it’s freaking huge and it has a basement and attic too. It’s insane how big this house was. You’re kinda thankful because you can’t believe what would happen if there was barely any space and you’re stuck in such a small house with Daegal — might be your last time alive. But this wasn’t the case. This house is pretty huge and you have enough space to run away if Daegal ever comes at you.

Daegal takes a step forward and you push the pillow in her face. “Ah! Stay back! I swear, I have a pillow I’m not afraid to use it!” You’re just threatening a dog now and you feel stupid and kind of ridiculous. This wasn’t part of your cv job application. You didn’t put ‘I love dogs’ on there because you’re terrified of them!

The next thing you know it Daegal bite the pillow and you had to retreat back like a soldier running away from the other team during a war. You jumped off the couch and went towards the kitchen now. You find dog treats in the separate container and you desperately take a few out and when you hear Daegal running around the house looking to get you.

You found her standing in front of the kitchen marble flooring and she saw the treats in your hands which made her now seem a little more distracted and calmer.

You feel relieved because you gave her at least five pieces. Somehow you have a feeling Chenle mentioned not to overfeed Daegal…? Right? Your brain was fumbled you don’t remember, you weren’t actually listening either but it doesn’t matter anymore because Daegal wasn’t chasing you around like a freaking hound ready to kill you anymore which was great on your side.

You rub the back of your neck as you sigh in relief. “Phew close one.”

Maybe you can survive a little in this house before you can find another thing ready to sabotage you and murder you.

You decided to take a few hours of just keeping away from Daegal and giving her space while you’ll be on your phone scrolling to keep yourself busy. As the hour passed another hour went by. Now you’re stuck in the space spot on the couch for four hours. The four hours turns into five hours and you feel boredom overtake your body and your legs.

You never felt so bored before on a job.

In fact you shouldn’t be on your phone like this when you are babysitting but in fact you have no idea how to deal and take care of a dog — specifically you don’t want to approach the dog at all considering your phobia of them.

But then something smashed and fell into pieces in the background from the living room and you’re left there panicking. You quickly stand up and put your phone away on the couch. Your legs rush towards the kitchen to see Daegal chewing on a bunch of tissue paper rolls now shredding them to shrewd bits and all the saliva catching on the white paper.

You feel your face fell into a dark hole resembling a black hole from space sucking everything in. You can’t help but feel like this was your fault for not paying attention to Daegal in the first place right now.

You kneel down slowly with a spatula and poke Daegal away from the toilet rolls. She barks at the spatula and backs away when you managed to successfully wipe her away from the paper.

“Ugh… Daegal your dad is gonna murder me if he knows what you’ve done right now.” You said a little bit squeamish to see the saliva on the paper. You’re going to have to start cleaning this up.

You pick up the pieces of shredded paper and start to clean the floor by wiping it away and putting the rest into the trash bin however you then witness pieces of glass, a vase more in specific, to be broken on the kitchen floor and pieces of roses laying on the floor with a pool of water flossing the kitchen.

Your mouth never fell so fast and your jaw never dislocated so fast at the sight of the mess Daegal made.

The voice comes out as scared as a doe can be when a predator was in sight. You’re no longer scared, you’re frightened by the sight of the mess. The vase looks like an antique. God it probably costs more than your fortune and house you’re renting! Daegal really was out here trying to sabotage you or something.

Never mind if Chenle was going to murder you over toilet rolls being bitten and eaten by his daughter, well he certainly is going to kill you now over this expensive vase!

“Your dad is definitely going to murder me now when he finds out about this.”

You bite your bottom lip as you start to pick up the flowers and then putting them on the counter as you pick up the vase pieces. You suck in your breath. This is going to be terrible terrible news for Chenle. God you can’t even imagine what he’s going to say. You should say goodbye to your bank account because you’re going to be in DEBT now.

And what more? Your life fortune? Wasted. Your university loan? Oh god you can say goodbye to that too.

‘Maybe I can glue this together? He won’t know right…’ You sigh trying to fix this mess up but you know Chenle isn’t stupid.

Daegal barks when she saw your sad depressing expression because you’re literally pulling at your hair over a broken vase now and well, it looks like you’re seeing your end coming. You’re saying goodbye to everything too.

Heck you’re even planning your funeral it looks like it in your head because this vase is going to cost a lot. You bet everything in this house costs so much that even the toilet paper is probably made up of silk, god knows what.

Your eyes stare back at Daegal who’s stepping on your feet trying to get your attention. “What is it? Do you have something to say huh? Look what you did!” You said lifting one singular piece of the vase to Daegal as you start to scold her for ruining something this precious.

Daegal barks back and you scowl as you found the dog to be backchatting at you. “Because of you your dad is going to give me first class ticket to heaven. Or worse maybe hell.” You announce with a dramatic sigh and put the vase back down on the kitchen counter.

She barks again and you retort your eyes at the dog who seems to be wanting to show you something. You follow now Daegal as she was pawing at a certain cabinet and you raise your eyebrow wondering what on earth was this dog trying to show you?

You open the cabinet to fiend your curiosity and when you do you see an exact replica of the vase in the cabinet. Your eyes widen staring at Daegal.

‘Was Daegal… perhaps trying to show me this replica?’ You can’t help but think this was not a coincidence.

You stand up and grab the vase filling it up with water and then putting the flowers inside. The vase was placed back into the original spot again and you hate to admit it but it looks the exact same. It looks like the incident never ever happened.

So maybe you won’t be dying today.

The broken pieces of the previous vase would be thrown in the plastic bag and hidden in the cabinet you reckon no one’s going to look for it there. You look at Daegal who looks pretty satisfied that you replaced the vase.

Technically it was Daegal’s fault it broke but maybe it’s even more of your fault for not keeping an eye on her.

You sigh giving a small pat on Daegal’s head. “You know missy, you’re not so bad after all.” You tell her and Daegal gives a little wag on the tail.

You might be able to tolerate Daegal. Your fear around her has lessened. But that doesn’t really mean your fear of dogs is gone. Maybe Daegal is slightly more tolerable to deal with. Less intimidating now than earlier when she chased you around like you’re some intruder.

As the time went on you decide to give Daegal a little shower like Chenle told you to give her. You made the bath run a little and Daegal would be pampered with all sorts of water and such. You even gave her little bubbles which Daegal was playing with.

You hate to admit but she’s a pretty cute dog. You never really see a dog chasing bubbles before up close anyways.

After the shower you dried her off into a towel and saw that her fluffy white curls were drying quickly and giving her this mane sort of thing. You can’t help but laugh and you look around the giant bathroom. It had everything looking so expensive even the bathtub was looking so expensive and antique-like. You feel like anything you touch will cost you a fortune if you break it.

Your eyes look for bottles of oils that Chenle mentioned and the hairbrush to groom them hairs that are looking a little messy. You bring Daegal on top of the bathroom counter now and you look at her brushing her ears with her paws.

“You know they say pets look like their owners, I can kinda see what they mean by that now that I’m looking at you.”

Your voice sounds like it’s teasing Daegal as you’re now rubbing the oils around her hair and you hear the dog give a little bark wagging the tail. It’s like she’s telling you to stop teasing her and what not but you can’t help it. She does really carry Chenle’s personality with her sometimes, or maybe his entire presence sometimes.

You tilt your head grabbing the hairbrush and starts to slowly brush the dog hairs. You don’t mind to pamper Daegal anymore. You really don’t mind her. At first you were scared and it was clear Daegal didn’t quite like you.

But she seems to be pretty used to you now being in the house so you suppose it went both ways; neither of you liked one another and now you’re pretty settled.

The time goes by soon enough and you see the time was reaching nearly the 9pm mark and you’re certain you and Daegal were done with the shower. You put Daegal back down and let her run around. Meanwhile you would clean out the bathroom and then leave closing the lights.

All you have to do is now wait and what not so you can get paid and then leave. But you won’t lie you feel almost empty now that you’re reaching the end of your job shift. You’re not sure why?

You lay down on the couch and you see Daegal jumping in cuddling right next to your stomach as she seems to take a good spot close to you to fall asleep. You feel yourself falling into dreamland yourself too. Your eyelids feel heavy and you let them close to the darkness. The dreamland was calling you and you accept the sleepiness you’re feeling and so on. Your body goes down into light slumbers and with Daegal fast asleep next to you.

The time you two slept together in this position you were left feeling the most safe. You don’t usually feel this safe and you take a while to fall asleep but all it took you was to cuddle with Daegal to make you feel so sleepy that you forgot you were even falling asleep in the first place.

By the time it goes by now Chenle came home and he wonders why the house was so suspiciously quiet?

The man takes off the shoes and his jacket back to the cloak hanger and he looks around not even seeing a sign of his dog who usually comes towards the door or waits at the door for him to arrive home. When he came forward searching now in panic all of that vanished and dissolves like raindrops falling into a large pool of submerged water the minute his eyes found you and Daegal curled up sleeping together. He stops in front of the couch and lets out a surprise sigh.

He really thought something bad happened but this was surprisingly quite wholesome? Daegal never really sleeps with anyone else but Chenle. She isn’t quite fond of other people.

But she seems pretty fond of you.

Chenle moves his hand to shake your shoulders a little and your lips fell apart letting out a tiny little sigh from the groggy tiredness and your eyes open seeing Chenle’s handsome face in front of you. You slowly get up and you see Daegal is still fast asleep.

Your soft sigh as you woke up made Chenle admire you and actually he found you pretty cute when you’re asleep. “Oh… when did you get back?” You now ask a little question as you slowly begin to stand up as you leave Daegal resting on the couch.

“A few minuets ago.” Chenle explains back in reply. He follows you to the kitchen so you guys can speak a little more clearly. He finds the house to be clean and nothing to be wrong.

It looks like you handled babysitting his daughter well.

Chenle trails looking at the vase, he smiles at the flowers. “Ah good they’re blooming.” He said a little proud that the petals are blooming and you clear your voice looking away from the vase.

“Sooo, did I do a good job babysitting?” You now said wanting some validation, you know it doesn’t hurt to know if you did well or not.

Chenle looks up amused when you’re not clearly seeking some praise and he watches your eyes linger on him with little red cheeks as you feel the eye contact make you start to look flustered a little. Chenle really has a strong gaze that puts this invisible grip around your neck. Although you like it you do, it’s something no one else has over you and only Chenle. Yet you only met him today and spoke to him few times you feel some unbelievably high tension between the both of you.

He takes a step closer and you feel Chenle’s arms putting on the sides of the counter that you’re leaning against now. Chenle’s face moves a little closer to your face to speak.

“You want some praise, is that it?” Chenle now asked you and you give a little nod as your eyes couldn’t be anymore obvious you’re literally eyeing this man’s lips like they’re the only thing you want to look at. “Yeah… doesn’t hurt to hear it…” You tell him softly and he smirks leaning closer.

“Good job, Y/n.” Chenle said reconnecting lips against yours now as he kissed you a little more powerfully than he at first imagine he would. Never in your mind have you thought you’d be making out with a rich man you babysat his daughter for him. You feel a violent connection in your stomach explode like fireworks.

You loved to though. The praise he gave you when he said good job. You kiss him back now even more with your hands connecting to his face as your body was lifted on the kitchen countertop. Chenle ran his hands up against your thighs.

You feel his tongue work his way with your tongue letting them dance as if they were fire and ice. You feel your mouths move on the side some more and you tilt your head even more, Chenle’s fingers pinch at your thighs through your jeans and he rubs and squeezed then too liking how they were feeling so soft and squishy.

You let out a little groan when Chenle connects your lips into another hungry kiss when he pulled away only momentarily to keep you gasping and wanting him even more. He really knows how to play you like a fiddle. You’re growing weak and weaker the more he kisses you. You’re growing addicted.

Your breathes were panting and your voices were singing practically from how good the kiss feels and feeds on your urges to do even more. Chenle’s hands didn’t take a minute to slide his hands at your back undoing the strap between your bras as he kissed you even more.

The shirt and the bra fell off and Chenle enjoys how your breasts were already a little tight on the top. He kissed them down gently and then he saw your arms on the side take off his shirt pulling it off his body. Chenle lets you strip him clean and you connect your mouths again.

It’s like kissing wasn’t enough but you guys keep on kissing and kissing. He’s addicted to you and you’re addicted to him. That was exactly what it was.

But even if you’re addicted and you’re close enough, but you can’t get anymore closer because you’re literally pinned against each other as Chenle ran his tongue across your neck and down to your breasts licking and teasing them with his teeth, you’re practically begging to be under his skin, because you wanna be so close you’re literally as one thing. Chenle feels the eagerness inside him grow even more.

“Oh good gracious… god…”

You let out as your head leans back when Chenle cups his hands over your wet cunt as the cold countertop made the sensation even more intense and difficult to handle.

Chenle slips himself inside taking the chances now or never. He never once thought he would be fucking someone in his own kitchen, as well as that someone being the babysitter he hired. But oh well? Chenle can’t say it’s a bad thing because you made him growing hard and hard behind measures so now he’s going to relive this experience with you.

And you’re enjoying yourself he can tell when you let out a soft smile when he kissed your neck, he heard a little giggle it looks like you’re ticklish on that side and he found that quite cute of you.

“You ticklish over there?” He says softly as he brushed his lips on the same spot that made you laugh quietly.

“Yeah…” Your voice says in response was you let out a soft groan when Chenle was at the same time slowly sinking into your pussy putting in his length in the hole as you’re feeling everything become tighter and squeezing out while at the same time he’s stretching you clean.

Chenle gives him a little smirk kissing the same ticklish spot on your neck. “You know you’re pretty cute.” He tells you as he rubs your back with his hands. One hand stays on your back while the other rests on top of your thigh, you feel him keeping his hands there and you blush when he compliments you like this.

He thinks you’re cute? You feel flattered and shy.

Chenle kissed down your lips again and he loves that he made you glow red on your face, he enjoys your reactions. His pelvis slowly moves and you groan in the kiss. He can see your vibrations from your voice creek in and he swallows them all as he keeps on kissing you while he’s now starting to slowly thrust inside you.

Your lips quiver when Chenle pulls away from the kiss and you finally groan at the motions as Chenle’s focusing on thrusting in and out of you as he keeps you in place on the countertop in the kitchen. Your bodies were pushing up on one another and you feel so delicate while floating with the pleasure.

It feels like nothing you’ve quite experienced before.

But you like it a lot and you don’t want it to end. Chenle’s thrusts makes you feel like you’re floating in the sky and around without any worry in your head.

You’re enjoying this a lot more than you anticipated and it turns you on so much as Chenle’s eyes never leave your face. He seems to enjoy the eye contact and you’re staring at him resembling like a deer on the road with headlights.

He enjoys the little trembling pupils he sees in front of him and he kissed you sweetly as he runs your hair back from your face, the thrusts only pick up the pace but his kisses were so slow placed.

Chenle wants to take a picture of your flushed face everytime he thrusts inside you so deep he sees that your own mind was breaking apart because of him. Chenle will take a forever photogenic memory of this and he will always look back on it because you’re the most beautiful person he laid eyes upon this close while he’s taking you in his own kitchen.

The situation itself at hand was exciting him because he’s not usually the person to sleep with someone he met on first day. But he has a feeling you’re different. He whispers down admiring you even closer. He kissed your ticklish spot again and you flinch with groans flowing past your teeth. “You’re so pretty, pretty slut, you know that Y/n?”

You stutter out breathless. “P-pretty? Really… oh god…” you cave in when Chenle leans even deeper inside you as he tugs on your inner thighs squeezing them with his free one hand on top of your thigh.

“Mhmm… so pretty. No wonder Daegal likes you.” He whispers as he kissed your lips once again and Chenle feels himself getting closer and closer to an exit. You found yourself jerking forward against his thrusts now as your orgasm was at the door and Chenle was pumping you with full of himself inside your beautiful walls that take his shape.

You raise your eyes to the ceiling above at the bright shining lights blinding you now and you lift your arms putting one at Chenle’s shoulder as he’s cramping your bodies together.

Your highs were chased at the end together, he feels you release right after he did and your ears pick up on his low voice growing out.

Chenle takes a moment to take a look at your face again and he gives you a little smirk when he saw your eyes already looking at him, like you’re admiring how beautiful he looks too.

“I already transferred the money to your bank.” He said back and he rubs your cheek with his inner thumb.

“I’ll keep paying you the same amount if you become my permanent dog sitter. What do you say y/n?”

You never expected this job to go this way. But you found yourself agreeing to the deal, and somehow you just know this Dog Sitting Gone Wrong.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu. Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out!! <3

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #nct series #nct fic #nct recs #nct scenarios #chenle #chenle hard hours #chenle fanfic #nct dream smut #nct u smut #nct imagines #nct 127 smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #nct chenle #kpop smut #nct fanfic #nct moodboard #nct masterlist #nct masterpost #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct 127 hard hours #nct 127 hard thoughts #nct drabbles #chenle drabbles

[m-musings]

okokokok, i LOVE how you wrote the overwatch boys, and I have a kind of long-winded request for Cassidy, Hanzo, Genji, and (if you write for him) Ramattra:

their s/o was previously a test subject for Talon experiments, something they have nightmares about. how would the boys react to their partner having one of said nightmares and trying to attack the person trying to wake them up.

ik this is kinda specific, but thank you if you write it! ♡♡♡♡

A/n: oooo this is a good request, let's hope my angsty writing chops are up to par bcuz i really hope this lives up to what you want (hcs under the cut!)

Warnings: general angst, accidental physical violence, mentions & implications of past torture (also op doesn't really know how to write nightmares/night terrors asdfghjkl) Word Count:1586

Headcanons: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo and Ramattra with a Former Talon Test Subject S/O (Separate)

Cassidy:

When Cassidy awakes in the middle of the night to the sound of you fiercely muttering at no one, its safe to say he's concerned.

He listens for a moment as you make alarmed noises, trying to discern what exactly is going on.

After turning over to flip on the light, he glances over at your sleeping form thrashing around with your brow furrowed in terror.

"N-no... get a...away f-from me..." Cassidy hears you say clearly, getting more worried by the second.

As he begins to reach over to try and rouse you from your slumber, the volume of your voice grows from a to an earsplitting shriek.

As you keep screaming, you start becoming combative, slapping and punching at Cass while somehow still asleep.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Jus' h-hold on a darn second here!" He says as he tries to block your attacks by grabbing your hands.

"No! NO! Let me out!" You wail as tears start streaming down your cheeks.

"Darlin', it's a dream, you gotta wake up! I'm here, just open your eyes!"

Debating between forcing you to wake up and just continuing to reassure you and talk you down from the fear, he decides that the latter is probably going to be the safest for both of you.

After a several minutes long struggle, you slowly stop trying to fight Cole as your once frantic breathing begins to return to its normal pace.

Your tired eyes begin to blink open as the last bit of panic leaves your body in a few small gasps. When you fully regain consciousness, Cassidy sighs in relief as realization begins to sink into your thoughts.

"Are you okay, what the hell happened there?!" Questions Cole as he smooths his hands over your hair.

Choking out a small sob, you gently grasp his bicep to try and ground yourself as more tears begin to fall from your eyes.

"Cass, I-I'm sorry... I- I was back in Talon and the pain j-just wouldn't stop!"

His heart drops at the mention of the evil organization, knowing what kind of awful treatment you went through while kept there.

"I tr-tried to get away but I just.... couldn't! It was awful!" You whisper as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Darlin' I'm so sorry... I am so sorry..." Cole responds faintly before carefully pulling you into a hug.

The room grows still again for a moment, with only the sound of your hushed weeps filling the air.

"I don't wanna go back, please don't let them take me!" You cry into Cole's shoulder as he holds you close.

"No, no, you won't. I swear that as long I'm breathin', I will always make sure you never have to go through that ever again."

Genji:

Genji is all too familiar with nightmares. During the first couple years after his confrontation with Hanzo, he would very frequently have them. He's been through that whole song and dance a million times before.

Which is the reason he immediately knows what's happening when he wakes to the sound of your screams next to him.

He rushes to throw your shared quilt off and make sure you're okay, getting punched once or twice in the process.

After the nightmares pass and you calm down enough to speak, Genji is right there to comfort you.

"It's alright, my love, it is over now... Are you okay?" He questions as he holds one of your palms in his.

You shake your head no as you take several sharp breaths in and out.

"I was there again... in that-that godforsaken lab with fucking Moira prodding at me like cattle! It felt li-like it would never end! I can't go through that again!"

"And you don't have to. I don't know all of what happened to you, but I promise you will never have to face it on your own. I'm here to help you however I'm able to."

As the fearful adrenaline steadily leaves your veins, Genji brings your hand up to his chest so you could feel his heart beating just beneath his cybernetics.

"I love you and will sit here with you as long as you need me too."

With a sad, shaky laugh, you nod and you take your hand back in order to wrap yourself around him.

He does the same in turn as you embrace him ever so slightly tighter before he ushers for you to lay back down together so you can get some much needed sleep.

Pulling the blanket back over your bodies, he scooches in a little closer and begins to hum softly in the hopes of lulling you into a nightmare-less slumber.

Watching as your eyes begin to flutter closed again, he hears you mumble something just before you doze off.

"Thank you, Genji... I love you too."

Hanzo:

Hanzo already has trouble sleeping himself, so when your nightmares come around, he's already wide awake.

As you toss and turn underneath your blanket, he tries to calm you down by running his hand over you head, not caring if he gets hurt by your unintentionaly violent movements.

Once the night-terror ends, you start holding your face in your hands and rock back and forth as Hanzo rubs assuaging circles on your back.

"My dear, what can I do? How do I make the fear stop for now?" The archer inquires as you continue to shake in place.

"I don't know, Han... every time I close my eyes, all I can see is the lights and the wires and the needles... It won't go away no matter how hard I try. I just want them to be gone." You state, anxiously starting to press at your temples.

With a noiseless sigh escaping from his lips, Hanzo moves closer to place an arm across your shoulder and rest his forehead against your head.

"I am sorry for not being there with you. If I were able to change history, I would have gone to great lengths to rescue you."

As you begin to cry at his admission, he places a delicate kiss atop your head.

"I would never ask you to do something that dangerous for me. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you..." You sob out as you bury yourself into Hanzo's side.

Hanzo is quick to wrap his other arm around you, offering a comforting squeeze before ushering you into his lap.

"You wouldn't ever have to ask for my help. I would trade my life for yours if it meant that no more harm would come to you."

Ramattra:

It's uncommon for Omnics to dream- let alone have nightmares- so the first one you have around Ramattra? It comes as a bit of a shock to him.

When he hears you yell, he all but rockets out of his reboot cycle to scan the room for any hidden threats to your safety.

After seeing nobody there but the two of you, he glances down to see you- fast asleep but clawing at the air like a trapped animal scratching at a predator.

He then decides to do a scan of your vitals, just to make sure you aren't in any immediate medical distress. The scan reveals to him that your heartrate and breathing are through the roof.

Just as he's about to cross the room to try and wake you up, you shoot up from your fitful rest with a loud inhale as you slam your hands down onto the mattress below.

Swiftly joining your side on the bed, he cautiously turns your visage towards him as he goes to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

While your eyes try to adjust to the low light of your room, you call out Ramattra's name, receiving a modulated but relaxing shush from his vocalizer.

"Calm yourself, pet, I'm right here. Now, tell me what has happened."

As you take a moment or two to collect yourself and come down from your frenzy, you gaze up to meet the faint glow of his faceplate emitting from his eyes.

"It's Talon; they... tormented me... a long time ago. Had me chained down as a doctor injected chemicals into me before he began flushing them out and started the whole process over again..."

Watching as you barely manage to hold back tears, His joints all seem to freeze in place as fury begins to creep in and take over all his systems.

"They need to suffer for their misdeeds. Who are they?..." He presses, his voice now hauntingly deeper than before .

"I don't know their names, and even if I did, I would do everything in my power to forget them."

An uneasy silence fills the space between you two, staying there for a minute before the large Omnic grunts and lifts you into his arms.

"I am sorry for what you had to go through. Just know that if any pain ever comes your way again, the offenders shall be personally dealt with." Ramattra claims as he rests his faceplate against your jaw.

Relishing in the cool feeling of his metal features against your warm skin, you nod appreciatively before he begins to lightly sway you to and fro.

Watching as you drift back to sleep, Ramattra makes a mental note to hunt down the Talon members who hurt you the next time he meets his allies. He wouldn't and will not stand for the mistreatment of the only human he has ever cared about.

#headcanon #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch imagines #cole cassidy x reader #genji shimada x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #ramattra x reader

[rabbittf2x]

soldier, engie, and medic with a teen reader who got them a fathers day gift for funsies? they aren’t blood related but they do have a significant father-daughter relationship :)

Reader gets mercs a Father’s Day gift

Includes: Soldier, Engineer and Medic

Soldier💖

“Happy Father’s Day, Soldier! I got you a gift ‘cause you’re like a dad to me.”

Soldier’s world completely stopped at your kind words. You thought of him… as a father? He was never so close to crying in his whole life!

You held out the gift for him with a smile, urging him to open it. Soldier took the box from you and tore apart the wrapping paper, revealing a nice pair of combat boots inside

“Hope you like ‘em! They were the last pair—oh!”

Soldier cut you off with a bone crushing hug, squeezing you tight to his chest. He loved you so much and was gonna protect you with his life

Engineer💖

“Happy Father’s Day, Engie. Thanks for being like a dad to me.”

You offered the Engineer a gentle smile, holding up a gift box. His heart melted and tears welled in his eyes. He set his hardhat on the workbench, pushing up his goggles and rubbing at his eyes

“Aw, shucks. That’s… well, darn. I just dunno what to say.”

You smiled at each other for a moment, both overcome with emotion. Before you could tear up yourself, you pushed the gift into his chest

It didn’t matter what you got Engineer. You calling him your dad was honestly all he needed <3

Medic💖

“Happy Father’s Day, Medic. You and Heavy are like my dads so I got you something.”

You set a wrapped present in front of Medic. He gasped, placing a bloody hand on his chest

“Really?” He smiled proudly

You nodded with a big grin. “Of course! Now open it.” You said

The Medic tore away the wrapping paper from his gift, revealing a shiny new bone saw inside. His smile couldn’t of been wider. He exclaimed your name affectionately, gawking at the weapon

If Medic wasn’t covered in blood, he would hug you. Instead, he gave your head a crude pat. Your hair was now bloody, but it was the thought that counted

#team fortress #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 soldier #soldier x reader #soldier #jane doe #tf2 engineer #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 engie #engineer x reader #engineer #dell conagher #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 medic #medic x reader #medic #rab.tf2

[auteurdelabre]

Code Broken (Chapter 2) Mean!Joel x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

summary: "Keep looking at me," he insists from between your thighs. His eyes are stormy, looking up the length of your body. You don't know what penetrates you deeper, his tongue or his dark, glittering gaze. 

You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

[AU where Joel Miller ends up in Jackson City by himself.]

warnings/tags: Extremely dubious consent, oral sex [f receiving], Joel is bad at feelings, Mean Joel, Dirty Talk  

word count:  5.1k

a/n: Y'all, this whole series is pretty depraved (from my perspective) and much darker than my normal stuff. I wanted it as a challenge and I had a lot of fun doing the series, there's 5 parts so I hope you enjoy it. Comments and the like really make my day. xx

masterlist

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Chapter 2: House of the Rising Sun

Its months later, the beginning of fall in Jackson city. The homes are decorated with paper cut outs of black cats and witches. Streamers of orange and black curve around the poles of the canteen. Pumpkins are carved and placed on doorsteps in preparation for next week. 

It's your favorite time of year here. The time after the oppressive heat of the summer yet before the blankets of snow that overstay their welcome a little longer each year. It's the time when you pull out your favorite knitted scarf and go for long walks within the expanse of the community. 

Trish is getting married to one of the butchers in town. He's shy but quick to smile with white blonde hair that falls into his eyes. 

As with most celebrations the entire community is invited and involved in some way. You're making the dress. The girls from work are joyfully putting together decorations, citing that these will be even nicer than the ones done for Tommy and Maria's wedding party. The event is still months away but you want it to be perfect. Trish means so much to you.

You have a basket overflowing with multicoloured foliage to decorate your home but when you notice a pale yellow groundsel amongst the sleeping earth you stop. You bend down and pluck the flower, marvelling at the softness of its plush petals. Under your fingertips they feel like the gentle lips of a lover. 

The sudden, intrusive thought that comes with that unbidden thought causes you to scowl, crumpling the delicate flower in your fist. You drop its crushed body to the ground as you continue on your walk. 

You know with the encroaching cold weather you'll have a lot to mend at the office tomorrow. Pants, jackets, curtains, blankets. You're never in need of something to do, that's for certain and you like that. You like a purpose, you like seeing people walk by in your knitted scarves or patched jeans. It gives you a satisfaction that just surviving from place to place for years never could. 

You like the people you work with, they always invite you for a drink at the end of the week as if the job you all do is such a strain. As if you don't all work half a day, mending and darning around the circular table over coffee and laughter, taking turns using the sewing machine for the bigger projects. 

It's at your job where you'd first met Trish who was bringing in a stack of fabric she hoped could be turned into curtains. She was one of the teachers of the younger kids, desperate to bring some color into the drab classroom she'd been given. You'd been new, shy and Trish had taken you under her wing. She had always looked out for you, always supported you.

It's why you want her wedding to be as perfect as possible. You know she would just borrow some nice dress a neighbor owns instead of getting one made by you. You know she wouldn't ask for the work you’re putting into her dress, but you do it anyway. Those extra touches mean something to you and to her. 

The dress is far and above the hardest thing you've ever made. Designed it, sewn it, and cried in frustration over it. 

When a pile of old lace had been brought in to the sewing room you'd squealed with delight and claimed a bit for yourself. It would be the perfect accent to the dress, only the lace is yellowed with age. You've tried a few home remedies but nothing gives it that snow white color you need. You'll need a bit of bleach. 

It's that thought in mind that sets you off early the next day, your scarf wrapped loosely around your neck, your cheeks pink from the wind. You're heading for the general store before going to work, hoping you can find what you need. 

The slanted wood roof comes readily into view just off the main square. You come at the start of every week to the general shop with its tall ceilings and solid shelves to see what can be salvaged for clothing or other textile needs. 

Everything non perishable that gets salvaged in travels comes through the main building and sorted. Fabric, paper, soap, shoelaces just to name a few. Some of the older folks spend a few days but divvying up where each item goes - kitchen, stables, general shop. 

You push the green door open, the familiar tinkle of the bell ringing overhead to announce your arrival. 

"Here for fabric if any came in last week," you say with a smile to Ralph, one of the folks who mind the shop day to day. He's sitting on a stool near the side of the space reading an old paperback.  He gives you a warm smile, showing off the whitest teeth you've ever seen. 

"Just got a box yesterday."

He pops off his stool, the recent page of the paperback dog-eared for later reading. Looking at the yellowed pages you think back to the lace soaking in your sink at home.

"Oh and bleach if you have any extra. Just a little."

Bleach is a hot commodity here, used for everything from cleaning to drinking water if there's a need for it. But Ralph knows you wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. 

"Might have a small container of it in the back. Gimme a second."

Your eyes drift to the back of the shop as he says this. "I'll browse for a bit, then."

"New ones in the lower right," he laughs while he heads to the storage in the back room, calling out to you from the space. "Lucky you came today, had a few people asking for extra fabric for the kids costumes last week."

"Really?" you ask, but you're not really listening to his reply. Your eyes are already going to the back of the shop that leads into the little lending library. 

It's modest, barely bigger than an elevator but its shelves go to the ceiling and are weighted down with books. You've read almost all of them. This space is where books come to live, be read, returned, traded. It's one of your favorite places in your small world. 

You step into this sanctum, greeted by the scent of aged pages and feel your heart skip a beat. It always feels so good to be here, to be surrounded by so many topics and worlds. These are world's you'll only see in the written word, a world with no outbreak, a world bigger than Jackson City. 

Ralph asks you about your plans for today as you browse and you answer distractedly, dropping to a knee when you see a book you've never seen before in the lower right, just like Ralph said. 

Jane Eyre. 

You skim the back and read the summary: haunted mansions, an orphaned heroine, a brooding romantic lead? You decide this will be a good read for tonight in front of the fire.

You right yourself as the tinkle of the shop door sounds behind you. Something in the air changes, an electricity that you can't explain. It's like the world expands and contracts all at once and then suddenly you just know. 

It's him.

"Morning Joel," Ralph says cheerfully.

"Mornin'."

The rumble of his voice is unmistakable. You'd know it even if you hadn't heard his name. That low rasp of Texas twang in the richness of his timbre. Your pulse skyrockets, the world growing quiet under the sound of your heartbeat. 

Immediately you're moving to the far shelves, ducking your head and trying to regulate your breathing. Boxes are stacked at one end, meaning the odds of him sneaking up on you are minimal. 

"Need help finding anything?" Ralph asks helpfully. 

"Nah," Joel replies in that quiet, even way of his. "I know where the shampoo is."

His boots shuffle over the grainy floor, slow and deliberate. You haven't seen him yet which means he hasn't seen you. There's a chance you can just slip out unnoticed. You place the book on the shelf next to you beside the canned peaches. You'll come back for it tomorrow. Right now you need to get out as quickly and quietly as possible. 

Despite living next door to him, in the past few months you've managed to stay off Joel's radar. After that horrible experience in his house you've gone to great lengths to avoid him. You go early to work during the week, you don't go to the movie nights anymore, you'd never been a big rider but now you don't even go near the stables. 

Sometimes you might see him in the crowd during a meal but you're always able to avoid him, to duck away before his cold eyes land on you. 

But here now? There are three of you in the shop. It's still early, most folks aren't even at their jobs yet. 

You see the top of Joel's head over the shelving, his dark waves gliding until he finds what he's looking for in the hair care section. You catch yourself thinking of his hands massaging the shampoo into his scalp, his head tilted back under the water of the shower, rivulets of ---

Stop it.

"Here ya go," Ralph calls your name from the front of the shop. "All packed and ready to go." 

You see Joel's head snap in your direction as your called and you press your forehead against the cool shelf in frustration. So much for getting out unseen. You take a beat, gathering your courage and your focus. 

It's simple. Joel's on the other side of the shop. You'll just dart over to Ralph, grab the bag and go back to work. It's simple. You'll be fine. You won't look back. 

Then you see it out of your peripherals.

Two dark brown boots stopping at the end of your aisle with a gentle scrape. You can't go backwards, the boxes behind you form a cardboard wall. The only way out is through, past the man with the wide shoulders and strong hands. Past the man who gave you so much only to immediately take it away. 

He hasn't moved, hasn't said anything. You don't dare make eye contact with him. Your face flushes red, your head ducking as you shoulder past him. He makes no attempt to stand or shift back so it's easier for you. He just takes up space at the end of that aisle and you can feel him watching you maneuver past him, desperate not to touch him.

He lets you pass without issue. You think you're safe until you feel the back of his hand brushing your knuckles as you pass by. It's gentle, a ghost of a touch. You're not even sure it happened; a part of you is convinced you imagined it. But you don't slow, you don't look back, don't want to see if he's watching you. 

You don't care even if he is.

Fuck him. 

You mumble a thanks to Ralph, taking the heavy bag swiftly and rushing out of the shop. You're only steps away when you hear the door to the shop tinkle open and Joel's voice calling you by name. 

You instinctively pause in the street, your eyes blown wide at the gravelled sound. But you don't turn to face him; you don't even tilt your head to show you've heard. But he knows you have all the same, his distinctive footfalls coming in your direction until he's standing front of you. Your eyes remain on the ground, on his boots. 

He says your name again, this time softly. You didn't even realize he knew it. You refuse to look him in the eyes and decide his chin will do. He's so close you can see the spot he missed shaving just under his jaw. 

He extends his full hand. "You forgot this."

You look down to see Jane Eyre, the book you'd been about to purchase, the one next to the peaches in his grip. How had he known it was yours? Your eyes swim over the cover before glancing back to his chin. 

You have so much you want to say to him and none of it is kind. You want to scream at him for treating you so poorly. Want to punch him across the jaw for calling you pretty eyes and making you believe it. You want to shove and berate him until he confesses why he did it, why he went warm and then turned so cold. But you know you won't because there's a large chance you don't want to hear the answer. 

He hates you. He was using you. He was fucking with you after you fucked with him.

Your hair stirs in the wind, twisting and knotting in it. You say nothing when Joel's right hand comes to touch a wayward strand, smoothing it between his fingers and if testing it. The shock of his nearness is broken by this gentle action and you take a large step backwards, your hair jerking out from between his fingers.

"That's not mine," you mumble motioning to the book. 

Before he can say anything else you've turned and jogged off in the direction of your job, your heart smacking harshly against your ribs with each step. 

///

In your house that evening with lace soaking in the bleach solution you pull on a sweater and pour yourself a cup of tea. When the tea is prepared you go to the fire with your teacup and a distant look on your face. You wish you had that new book but grab something else from your shelf instead. 

It's the photo album, the one non necessity your mother brought with you from place to place. The only sentimental item that shows there was a time when the world wasn't on fire. 

When you first got to Jackson city you looked at it every night. You spoke aloud to your favorite photograph of your mother, the one where she's laughing at the beach while the two of you build a sandcastle. 

Now that it's been a few years since you arrived here you only look at it once in a while. It used to make you happy and bring you comfort when you first got here. Now when you look at the photos of your childhood all you can feel is robbed. 

No prom. No college. No career as a graphic designer. No sweet sixteen party like the one you'd been planning when the world went to shit. 

The day you'd come home from school to see your neighbor writhing in her front yard, tendrils peeking out of her mouth and straining for sunlight. That had been the day your mom had packed you up and . . .

You don't like to think about it. You thumb through the photos until you get to the second to last grainy image. The photograph that brings tears to your eyes and a pounding of your heart. 

You close the album. 

You drain your teacup; shuffle to put it in the sink. You peek at the partially submerged lace and smile. The bleach solution worked perfectly. The lace, once yellowed with age is now a beautiful white. It'll look perfect on what you've done so far with the dress.

You rinse the lace before placing it into a bowl of lukewarm water to sit in overnight and then head upstairs feeling warm but not contented. 

You get to the bedroom and change into your nightdress, yawning. You feel strange, keyed up. Today has you feeling off kilter and you know it's because of your interaction with Joel Miller this morning. 

You glance at the window that faces his house. It's propped open slightly to let the breeze in. You like the crisp air of Jackson city at this time of year.  There is music playing faintly, The House of the Rising Sun. You draw slowly over to the window, bathed in the blue of the light. A cursory glanced tells you all the lights are off in Joel's home. He’s either asleep without turning off his record player or he’s out and left it on by accident. You’d bet money on the former.

You go to close the window when your eyes fall to something placed on the ledge of the windowsill. Your heart hammers when you realize what it is. 

Jane Eyre.

The book you'd left with Joel Miller.

You frown, gripping the book and righting yourself. Still frowning you crawl under the sheets, your eyes scanning the book’s cover but not really paying attention. Joel obviously did this. Was it a message? A warning that he could enter your home at any time? Was it an apology for how he treated you?

You turn off the light, falling into a restless sleep.

Its hours later when you sense something isn't right.

There is a creak behind you and a hand is over your mouth, stilling and silencing you. Immediately you panic, flailing under the bed sheets.

"Don't scream."

Its him.

You know that if his hand wasn't over your mouth you would be. You'd be screaming shrilly in his face trying to wrench free of his grip. As it is, now that you know it's him you feel the panic subside, but only minutely. 

"Don’t scream,” he repeats.

You nod, staring up at him in the darkness. He removes his large hand then he steps back, still staring down at you. You stare at him for what feels like an eternity before speaking.

"What are you doing here? In my room?"

"Fair is fair," Joel counters placidly. "You broke into my place, I break into yours." 

You don't know what to say to that. This whole situation is so surreal. Joel is in your bedroom, standing at the side of your bed staring down at you with that familiar, heavy gaze. His frown deepens but his irises remain unreadable in the shadows.

“Why’d you run from me this mornin’?”

You sigh, rising to a seated position in the bed, bringing the blanket up with you. You never take your eyes off Joel as you do this, and he doesn't hide the way his eyes are sliding along your body. 

You motion for him to take a seat on the edge of your bed, near your feet. Instead he comes closer, sitting inches away from your hip with his right leg crooked in your direction. The bed creaks under him and you glance down at his knee, so close to you. The coverlet of your bed, a delicate pale blue, is a stark contrast against the dark stonewash of his jeans. Your eyes move from his knee back to his face. 

He's waiting for you to explain with his brows raised. You swallow finding your mouth impossibly dry. After a beat you manage a shaky reply, a half shrug.  

“I dunno.”

There is a cleave between you, as wide a chasm if it physically existed. You hold tight to the blankets, not releasing them. You stare at your fingers gripping the fabric tightly. 

“You do so.”

He leaves the words hanging there in the semi darkness.

You make a gentle sound of surprise when his hand tugs the blanket down out of your hands. His eyes drink you in, shivering in your nightdress. Is it from the chill or from Joel's gaze? You're not sure. 

"The way . . . Last time," you utter quietly. The shame of that last interlude is still a stain on your mind, a humiliation you've replayed a thousand times. "Why?"

"I couldn't control myself," Joel explains without hesitation, his gaze dipping to the collar of your nightgown. "Just like I don't think I can control myself now."

You absolutely loathe the thrill that goes through you at those words. You despise that the low rasp of his voice and the soulful eyes combine to make your entire body throb.  You wonder if Joel can tell, if he can sense the way your pulse has started tripping into a gallop. 

But you need to say it. Need to explain that it wasn't okay how things ended last time. You keep your eyes on the blanket between you.

"You made me feel," you search for the words, glancing from him so you can think clearly. "Used."

There is a pause, a clearing of his throat. His voice drops a bit.

"I'm not a good man."

If you thought he was looking for sympathy that belief is erased when you look to see his challenging gaze fixed on you. 

You search his face, looking for doubt or for pain or for something he's trying to hide and you see it all there barely hidden in his eyes. You muse that one day you'll learn more of his secrets, but for now you're content to wait. 

You'll wait for his secrets, but not for his touch. You move up onto your palms and with a short crawl you close the gap between you. He sits still, watching you approach in measured breaths. 

You press your lips to the side of his neck, knowing that kissing his mouth would ruin you. It would make it so much harder if Joel turns cold again. Instead you'll enjoy the quiet groan it elicits from him vibrating against your lips. 

You move back, looking at him from under your hair in a way you hope communicates that he has permission to continue. There is a moment where he looks unsure, as if he’s fighting an inner battle. But then with a low growl he pushes forward, crawling over you and pressing you back until you're lying under him, your knees pressing into his sides. His body is heavy on yours but you don't want it any other way. 

He's kissing your throat, wild open mouthed things that make you keen. His hips grind against yours as he kisses and nibbles. You feel the bulge grow in his jeans and this makes you groanw wantonly. When one large hand goes to cup your breast through your flimsy nightgown you whimper. 

Then he's stopped, holding himself above you and breathing raggedly. 

"I'm not a good man," Joel repeats. And now you see the hesitation in his eyes, in the way he looks at you.

You take his hand, still wrapped around your breast and slide it downward. He lets you do this silently, allowing you to move his wide palm down over your tummy, your pelvis and then finally . . .  Over the soaking gusset of your panties. 

"I don't need you to be good," you sigh. 

This is all the encouragement he needs. His hand jerks your panties to the side, so desperate to continue touching you his finger begins sliding along your damp slit. It’s a short tease. You hiss as one of his fingers curls inside your cunt abruptly, the slick allowing him to slide in with ease. You jolt at the intrusion, your fingers flexing into his shoulders. 

He stares down at you, your eyes creaking open to watch him. His face is neutral save for the way his dark eyes stay on your mouth. His fingers curl, coax, pleasure. His thumb taps your swollen bud and you give a strangled whimper. It feels so fucking good. 

Your hand is at his belt buckle, preparing to undo it when his free hand bats yours away. 

"We've done enough for me," Joel murmurs as his hands go to the waist of your panties, dragging them down slowly. They glide over your legs, the fabric leaving goosebumps in its wake as it trails down your body and is then tossed onto the floor. 

You're lying back on your elbows watching this when he pushes you back into the bed. He follows you, kissing your collar with a dizzying softness. You arch as his mouth moves down your body, his hands teasing and grazing you everywhere until you feel about to unravel.

You give a ragged breath as he kisses you, just below your navel. Your skin twitches at the sensation of his facial hair rasping against the smooth flesh of your abdomen before he pulls back. Your eyes crack open to see he’s still fully dressed, not even palming himself through his jeans.

Instead he’s gripping your ankles and with a soft pull he brings you to the edge of the bed before he moves between the vee off your thighs. His eyes linger along your lower half, a tongue coming to trail the seam of his lips. His intent is clear. He's not going to stop at kissing your belly.

You draw your knees together, anxious. You're nervous. You know what he wants but you've never had a man do this before. You don't know what to expect and Joel seems to sense your hesitation. Much like your first time he's serious, all business. Warm calloused hands are on both your knees.

"Open for me."

It seems he feels most comfortable when he's in control giving orders. You can imagine that's how he survived outside the walls of Jackson City. 

The blunted tips of his fingers dig into your flesh, a silent way to prompt you. You'll feel so exposed like that though, in front of Joel Miller of all people. He's so serious, so intimidating. And he's looking down at you as if he wants to consume you whole. 

"Open."

His voice is a low purr, and his fingertips start to move in slow circles over your kneecap, gentle and stirring. You know you're absolutely soaked, probably dripping onto the blanket under you. 

You swallow before you allow your thighs to fall open for him. His eyes dart down to your slick cunt, the trembling of your body, the way you're looking up at him with a look of fear and deep need. 

You aren't expecting the almost pained look that crosses his serious features, the slack of his mouth as he hits his knees on the wood floor beside the bed. 

"Fuck," Joel moans, his hands coming to grip the blanket on either side of you. "I need a taste." 

Without ceremony he's gripping your thighs and moved his mouth between your legs, a flat tongue slipping between your slit. Immediately you arch back, the sensation fucking divine. Your head hits the pillow so quickly you see stars.

He holds fast to you, even when you begin to wriggle. He’s making soft groaning noises, kissing you, licking you there. You feel helpless to stop from opening your eyes and looking down the length of your body. The sight of Joel Miller between your thighs makes you moan,

You aren’t expecting Joel’s eyes to be open, fixed on your face as he tastes you. You expect him to look away, caught, but he doesn’t. If anything his gaze pierces you and he begins fucking you with his tongue. You had no idea it was possible.

You wish you could say you held out, that you were in control. But soon, too soon, you feel the warmth in your lower belly start to spread. As if he can sense it, Joel's mouth drags from your cunt to begin pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs.

You give a sound that is both pleading and desperate. Joel lets out of soft rumbling chuckle that you can feel grazing against your cunt. 

"So impatient," he rumbles, huffing warm air against your exposed clit. 

You let out a shuddering exhale. He's holding you with one arm over your abdomen; the second snaking is way between your thighs. His fingers comes to circle your clit as his lips move back between your legs, working together to bring you to the edge. Your head falls back sharply and you try to hold yourself back from bucking into Joel's greedy mouth. 

"Keep looking at me," he insists from between your thighs. His eyes are stormy, looking up the length of your body as he tastes you. You don't know what penetrates you deeper, his tongue or his dark, glittering gaze. 

"That's she is" he croons, his lips pressing sweet open mouthed kisses to your cunt. His fingers are removed and now it’s just him, his talented mouth pulling you deeper into the pleasure you can’t hide from. But it’s almost too much, the pleasure frightening you and you move to inch back from him.

His grip is steel and instead of his arm banding across your waist, he moves to your hips, holding you in place. His tongue is flicking now, causing choked noises to emit from you. Your entire body is trembling, and now Joel’s tongue laves your swollen clit.

"Give it to me," Joel groans. "I need it."

You arch up off the bed, your hands groping the blanket for purchase. You can feel yourself rocking into his mouth, your fists holding tight to the blanket on either side of you as you begin to give short, rasping cries as you stare at him.

"Give into it," Joel demands. "Come on my fucking tongue, pretty eyes."

Pretty eyes.

There it is.

You feel a cascading pleasure move through your limbs like water. Subtle at first, but then it spreads so quickly, so different than orgasms you’ve ever experienced. More potent, flooding the length of your body. The sensation is so overwhelming that you jerk at the waist, a loud wail of release echoing within your bedroom as you tremor against Joel’s waiting mouth.

You fall back, your eyes on the ceiling as you come down from your high breathing raggedly. You feel Joel’s warm hands slide down your waist, dragging along your legs until they reach your ankles. That's where they lift off, the warmth of his touch gone. Normally you would raise up, you would make some attempt at conversation. But this is Joel Miller and something tells you he doesn't care for it.

You know he won’t say goodbye. He won’t even acknowledge that he’s made you come so spectacularly you’re ruined for any future encounter. But when you finally raise your head and see your empty room you don’t feel as alone.  

The book, Jane Eyre, sits on your side table.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #smut #fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller #fanfiction #mean!joel #joel miller x f!reader

[taintandviolent]

Knead ; Kit Walker x reader

summary: Kit hasn’t been coping well with Briarcliff life, and developed an unhealthy solution to the numbness he feels on a daily basis. You’re a perfect, beautiful part of his plan.

word count: 1.7K

w a r n i n g s: hurt, angst, depression, kind of whump, brief mentions of smut, female receiving, violence, fist fights and brief mention of injuries.

a/n: my first official Kit Walker fic!! requested by an anonymous!! anon; hope this is what you had in mind and I delivered!! I tried to focus more on Kit’s motivations and issues than the smut, so that’s why it’s a little lighter on the fucking this go round! I dunno why I struggle writing for Kit so much, aaaaah! also written at work, so usual apologies for any disjointed or clunky writing!!!

full fic under the cut! / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of future fics!

The storm raged on outside, a horrible deluge that had lasted days. Kit's dark eyes flitted to the clock on the wall. The hands ticked by but time never seemed to change. Not here. He needed to feel something. Anything. The days turned into weeks, weeks into months and nothing ever changed. He was an accused man, previously compos mentis, but with his surroundings, that title deteriorated gradually.

Kit Walker was losing it. Slowly, but surely. The cold, grey tone of Briarcliff was swallowing him whole, like a starved, but fading beast. Days were the worst - at least come evening, he could sleep. With sleep, came dreams. Dreams of somewhere else, dreams of you. Days were long and dreary, and Kit soon realized that the only thing that mattered were physical feelings. His mind wasn't a safe place to be. The truth of it was, Kit felt his fire burning out, and started acting out.

First, it was intentionally burning the biscuits. He was reprimanded and sentenced to biscuit duty for the next two weeks. Then it was sneaking out from the common room on repeated occasions, sulking along the hallways as though he wanted to get caught. Deep down, he did. Reprimanded again, and confined to solitary as punishment. But that afternoon, he craved something deeper. He needed something that would last, and Sister Jude had an unusual streak of mercy lately. It had to be good.

"Hey, sugah’."

Your tired hands stopped their kneading. You looked up, wide-eyed, with a smear of flour across your cheek. He didn't know it, but you'd had a thing - a silly little crush - on Kit Walker since you saw him in the common room during your first week. You'd heard the rumours, but every time you exchanged words, he was the nicest guy you'd ever met. Seemed like he had good, strong family values and manners -- which was more than you could say for most of the men you'd met.

Kit spotted the dash of white and reached out, wiping it away with the pad of his thumb. You really were one of the cutest girls he'd seen since Alma. It wouldn't be hard to do what he wanted... what he needed to do to feel again.

"Hi, Kit." You murmured, frustrated before returning to the pile of off-white dough. The last thing you needed was a distraction; the biscuits were already hard enough to get right, and Sister Jude was a stickler for them being made correctly.

"Whatsa' mattah'?" He could sense your irritation, and furrowed his brows. Maybe his plan wasn't going to work after all.

"I can't... get these darn biscuits right! Every time I try, they come out too hard and I'm just..." You grit your teeth and shoved the mound of dough away from your hands. "I'm so frustrated!"

"Dough duty, huh?"

You nodded, and pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes with your wrist.

"Here, sweethaht', lemme' show you. I've done enough of 'em to know how to do it right."

He was suddenly behind you, his arms stretching out to the table in front of you. He rested his hands atop of yours, and slowly began moving them, kneading them slowly. Much slower and softer than you had been.

"Just like that," he murmured, his lips close to your ear. "You gotta' be gentle with 'em... firm, but not too much... or they'll seize up on ya', makes 'em tough." His words were low and sweet, and you didn't have to try very hard to find another meaning to them. They evoked a deep, body-rocking shiver from your core. It travelled up your spine and made your teeth chatter. Kit laughed breathily behind you.

"Am I doing it right?" You whispered, your voice sweet and demure, laced with intention. "I have a tendency to wanna'... go fast."

"Slooow, sugah', nice n' slow. Othawise..." His teeth grazed your ear. "The dough won't rise."

Without warning, you rutted your ass against his groin, moaning aloud. You ground your ass against him slowly, just like he told you to. Kit made a fist in the dough over yours, forcing your hands deep into the flour. This was progressing faster than he expected. He hadn't known you'd be so willing to his advances. His cock twitched to life, tightening the front of his pants.

"You want it bad, sugah'?"

"I want it bad," you echoed. Suddenly, all worries of getting caught went out the window, you were no longer concerned about which Sister would find you - you just wanted him.

It had been weeks since either of you felt intimacy, felt that clawing hunger as it boiled in your core. You whimpered and dropped your head to his shoulder.

"Let me feel you, Kit... please..."

Kit ripped his flour-covered fingers from the dough, and reached back to his crotch, pulling his throbbing cock from his pants. He flipped the edge of your uniform up, and pressed his heavy cock against the curve of your ass. The sensation was indescribable, and he let out a throaty groan.

The hunger had him. The hunger, and the promise of punishment. Your body was soft and sweet like the dough in front of you two and had him going, that was undeniable, but the threat was what was really driving him forward. He needed to feel everything he could. He took hold of his cock, stroking it slowly against your ass cheeks, feeling the precum as it leaked into his hands.

Kit's free hand wrapped around your hips again, urging them backwards into his own. You whimpered, letting him take full control. Your fingers were still embedded in the dough, squeezing through the spaces between your digits.

With a deep sound, Kit slipped himself inside you. Your walls squeezed around him as he plunged himself as deep as he could, humping you hard. His thrusts were determined, but steady and slow. Just like he'd said...

You reached around to take hold of his soft brown hair, making a fist in the locks. He didn't care that your fingers were covered in flour, and it was falling into the collar of his shirt. He didn't care about anything except what he was feeling.

Touch-starved, it didn't take him long to climax. Kit emptied his load inside you, pumping it deep. You whimpered, rolling your lips inward to soften the moans. You were close behind him, and when he whispered in your ear, begging you to do it, you did.

Kit heard the heavy bootsteps before you did. But he didn't move. He was ready.

"Hey! What in the hell do you think you're doin'!?" The orderly bellowed, and Kit yanked his softening cock from you. Your legs twitched together as it left you, the slippery feeling sending another wave of pleasure through you.

Phase two of his plan was in action. Kit stepped in front of you, fists raised in front of his face. He pumped, and threw the first punch, making contact with the guy's cheekbone. He reeled back, touching his skin to see if he'd broken skin -- he hadn't. But he was going to pay for that.

Fortunately for Kit and his now-sick need, he hit him back, harder, splitting his lip immediately. You spun around, pressing your back against the table, covering your mouth in horror as the two men fought.

The man threw a hard left hook and Kit went down, falling to the cold cement floor with a thud. You could do nothing but scream, begging for him to stop. Through winces, Kit looked up at you and shook his head. To you, he was being noble. To him, he was revelling in the pain he was feeling and wanted nothing to interrupt it.

~

"Assaulting an orderly, Mr. Walker?"

"Yes, Sistah'. He looked at me sideways."

"He interrupted your fornication, is what he did." She sternly remarked. Kit swallowed, looking down at his feet. The punishment was coming - he wouldn't have been called into her office otherwise.

"Seems like he got the better of you." She gestured to him pointedly. He had, that was true. Kit had gotten a few good punches in, but the orderly was bigger and brawnier, and had walloped him as soon as he'd gotten the chance. The cut on his lip stung every time he spoke, and his ribs were definitely bruised from the steel-toed berrage that he'd endured earlier.

"Over my desk," she rasped. Kit was almost excited -- a disgusting, disappointing feeling that he knew, deep down, he shouldn't be feeling. But a feeling was a feeling and he had to ride it out, in whatever way he could.

"Sistah' Jude," he interjected, as he bent over the modest wooden desk. "I'm sahrry' for what I did but don't punish her. She didn't do anything. It was all me."

"Mr. Walker," she replied. "I'll do exactly as I see fit."

The first hit stung. She was using the wooden switch, and it sliced through the air with an audible thwip. It burned against his skin, sweltering hot heat coursing over his cheeks and the back of his thighs. Tears bit at the corner of his eyes, it felt so terrible. That was just it -- it felt so terrible. He hadn't felt this much in weeks.

She hit him again, just above the spot where she'd previously hit. Kit winced again, clenching his fists hard atop her desk. Another one, and the tears streamed down his cheeks. He inhaled through clenched teeth and exhaled hard through his nose with each hit. Sister Jude's kind streak had ended, and she was unrelenting.

Twelve hits later, she finally stopped. Kit was sent back to his room, welted and bruised all over, but hell... at least he felt something.

#Kit Walker #Kit Walker x reader #Kit Walker x you #kit walker x y/n #ahs asylum #myfics #AHS smut #AHS fanfiction #Evan Peters #fanfiction #kit walker fanfiction

[satorubrain]

Back again 👀👀👀

How would Gojo react if his s/o dressed as him? Like he’s back from work or he walks in on them- can be up up you!

I can imagine the reader giggling to themselves while trying not to trip over Gojo’s trousers BC WHY IS HE SO TALL???

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Tags: Fluff, crack, reader is implied to be short but lets all agree that Satoru is just a fucking buff giant. Why is he built like that. I'll stop ranting-

Synopsis: Gojo sees you cosplaying as him

A/N: I had to add stupidity to this.

"Perfect!!" You exclaim styling your white hair wig. Now all that's remaining is, do work with Satoru's humongous clothes. He was already giant yet his uniform is fucking baggy, which just increases your problems.

The amount of pins you had to use to make his pants fit you already have your hands aching. His top is a fucking dress and you think you're gonna cry. But it's too late to stop. Continuing to put on the white mascara on your eyelashes and checking if the blindfolds fit you-

"FUCK YOU SATORU" You scream trying to get rid of the anger his size is giving you. You just want to get ready before he arrives home. You just tear up the blindfold since you're now too lazy to make proper adjustments, it's just easier if you tie up a knot.

Finally, you put on the ridiculous wig. Yes, it's absolutely absurd that you decided the wig hair length should make up for the difference in height.

Oh lord this get up is hilarious. You're shaking trying to control the laughter while looking at yourself in the mirror. Unwilling to ruin your mascara, you decide to get up and wait for Satoru in the living room. You text Satoru that you "need him" before putting on the blindfolds again, manspreading and sitting like him with a wide smile anticipating his arrival any time now.

It doesn't take him more than twenty minutes to hurriedly unlock your door. But this is not what he was envisioning, nonetheless he is not disappointed.

"Im hOO-" he stops mid sentence removing his blindfolds so he can properly look at you for a couple of seconds before bursting into his loud hyena laughter, clutching onto the door knob for support because lord you knocked the air out of his lungs in the most comical way. You would've looked so cute if it wasn't for that darned wig of yours.

"Laughing at the strongest? That's not a very good idea" You choke out trying to control your laughter, biting your inner cheek.

He's wheezing oh so loudly now and closing the door behind him, so he can go to you and sit beside you. He fails to form any sentence whenever he even glaces at you- both of you are now trying to control your laughter, just wanting to breathe for a moment.

"C-can I have a pic-" He wheezes so loudly he starts coughing and at this point both of you have tears of laughter running down your face.

"Yes you may, my dear FAN" you yell the newfound nickname with your cracking voice sending the both of you into another fit of laughter.

It takes you both a solid while to calm down before he can have a photoshoot with you while recording the entire thing with another camera so he doesn't miss out any moments.

You both also record a tiktok with team rocket's motto, but instead of meowth there's an abrupt cut of you tripping over his damned long pants and your wig falling off your head with a screech and him trying to save you- the video goes viral overnight.

What others don't see is how you tripping caused a loud rip of his pants from your toe till your knee as the stiff wig falls with a thud on the ground and you both are rolling on the floor laughing again.

You best believe this man has tucked away the clothes you wore today, as he would say, "to keep the memories safe" but lets ignore how he made the wig a table decoration.

I'm 5'3- so imagining a whole foot long wig standing is fucking killing me.

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[MASTERLIST]

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #gojo fanfic #satoru gojo x reader #gojo crack #gojo satoru crack #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk drabbles #jjk crack #gojou satoru x you #gojou x you #gojou x y/n

[pettydollie]

I have a request if you are interested? :)

A teen!dad jess. He has a best friend from New York (she can have a name or it can be Y/N, you can choose) (they are endgame, jess never had feelings for Rory but she has feelings for Jess, it won't go anywhere) Jess and his best friend have a kid, they co-parent (whether they are dating already or in the future is up to you) Jess gets sent to Stars Hallow, she ends up moving to stars Hallow to, to be close to Jess and so their kid can be with him too (she is emancipated, plus Jess knows she's coming because they keep in contact) if anyone reading this would like to turn this into an actual story, I'm totally down for reading it :) if you choose this request, I look forward to reading it. Thank you!!

hi noonie!! this is my first requests omg wowowow i think this is a great idea! im sorry if its kinda sloppy and not how u wanted! but i hope u enjoyy ! wc: 1.7k also i saw how you said that jess knew she was coming, but whats more fun than a suprise? ;) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As your best friend grabbed his bag and walked towards you and your one-year-old son, you forced yourself to keep your composure. You didn't know how you were going to okay without him. You'll still see him when he comes back to visit for holidays and such, but it won't be the same. You didn't want Jess to leave and neither did he, but he had no choice. He walked over to you and S/N. Reaching out for his father, S/N cooed and Jess took him from you. Jess held him preciously like it would be the last time. "Be good for your mom kid." He kissed his head.

He put down S/N into his crib before walking over to you and grabbed both of your hands. "I'm going to call you twice a day. Morning and night, okay? If there's anything you need, I'm there for you." He explained clearly. You nodded your head as you chewed on your lip, unable to form words. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight hug. Jess Mariano was your best friend. Having S/N was an accident, but you and Jess both believed that everything happens for a reason, so you kept him. And neither of you regret it. Your relationship is a little odd, but you love him nonetheless. You pulled away and kissed his cheek. "You'll be okay." You whispered, wiping a tear from your cheek. "And so will you, Y/N. You're the strongest person I know." You smiled softly at his words and gave him a picture of the three of you. He grinned and held it tightly. "Don't miss your bus, buddy." You joked. He ruffled your hair and waved goodbye.

A year later, you still feel the same as you did before. You know, the same day the two of you created a child, the same day you gave birth, and the same day he left. And you were panicking. "Oh, S/N, I'm so excited!" You jumped around making S/N giggle. He bounced along with you. "But I'm nervous too. What if he found someone else?" Then you gasped. "What if he cut all of his hair off?" You exaggerated just to see S/N's goofy smile. "This isn't about me though. This is all for you!" You tickled him (ugh, he's so darn cute). You grabbed your luggage, held S/N on your hip, and left the apartment. Stars Hollow was a cute name, you had to admit. You were thrilled to live in a small town! When you arrived, you stepped off the bus and looked around. Just as you imagined, it looked great! But maybe you should’ve told Jess you decided to be spontaneous and move to Connecticut. On the other hand, Jess could be on the verge of dying from boredom, so a surprise is the perfect thing to cheer him up.

“Thoughts, S/N?” You asked, clenching your hand into a fist as a pretend mic to his mouth. Your adorable son stared at you with his gorgeous eyes. Damn he looks just like his mother. Kidding, he’s an exact replica of Jess. Anywho, you accepted his answer and began to explore.

45 minutes later, you realized that you didn’t plan this out well enough like you thought. Even after talking to Jess everyday on the phone for an entire year, you didn’t know where exactly he was located. Fortunately, you took notice that people often went into a cute little diner called “William’s Hardware Store”, so you followed the crowd into the diner a little bit confused because this didn’t look like a hardware store. You walked in and almost immediately, people started turning to look at you. But atleast S/N enjoyed the attention.

You cleared your throat awkwardly and walked over to the stools at the counter and sat next to a girl around your age. You placed S/N in your lap and took in your surroundings. The girl you were sat next to turned around and gave you a bright grin. “Hi! You’re the new girl, aren’t you?” Her voice was sweet like candy (in the best way possible). “That I am! I’m Y/N. And this dude here is S/N.” You grabbed his hand making him give a little wave. She giggled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. And you too, S/N.” She tickled his belly quickly and perked up to you. “I’m Rory!”

You looked to where a boy was coming out of a hidden room and THERE HE WAS IRJAHDJWHS

Thank goodness he didn’t cut all of his hair off. You suddenly felt butterflies in your stomach, which you hated. Rory turned to face where you were looking and scoffed. But he was right out the door as quickly as he came. “Not the best of friends?” You asked, jokingly. “Jess? It's.. kind of weird right now. But yeah, no.” She informed you. You nodded. Weird? Like romantic weird?

“Hey, what can I get you?”

You turned away from Rory and looked in front of you. This looks EXACTLY like who Jess explained to be his uncle, Luke. You remember seeing a sign saying “Luke’s” bellow the hardware store sign. Backwards baseball cap, plaid shirt, scruffy facial hair, this must be him. “This is Luke, Y/N. Luke, Y/N just moved here from.. where?” Rory introduced and then turned to you. “New York.” You replied. “Oh, welcome. What part? My nephew Jess is from New York also.” Luke smiled. “Same as him.” You responded. Rory and Luke looked confused and you felt awkward again. Not the right choice of words.

That was until Luke’s face changed from “what is she talking about?” to “ohhh THAT Y/N!” You're glad you didn't have to explain.

“Y/N! It’s great to meet you! How are you? Is this S/N?” Luke looked below to see S/N’s cute lil chubby face. “Yup, this is him!” You held S/N up higher so Luke could see him better. “Wait you know Jess?” Rory asked. “Father of my kid. It wasn’t planned, but things happen, you know? Anyway, he’s my best friend. We’ve know each other since childhood, actually.” You explained. “Wow, this is amazing! So- so you live here now?” Before you could answer Luke, he rushed up and walked to a phone, dialing a number. “I'm gonna get him to come back right now, don't worry."

“Oh, uh. Well sure, I suppose.” You muttered. “Um, well I have to go home to my mom, but it was great meeting you! See you around!” Rory waved goodbye and left. You mentally smacked yourself on the forehead. You were never good at first impressions, EVER. Just a few seconds after Rory left, the door opened again to reveal a sweaty Jess with a panicked expression. “Where’s the fire? Why’s everyone so calm?” He ran over to Luke. “Here, lemme show you.” Luke placed his hand on Jess’ shoulder and guided him to your seat. You fixed your hair as quickly as possible.

Jess stood and stared. “Wh-What are you doing here?” He brightly smiled. He looked down at S/N, who stared into his eyes. He took him from you and rocked him slowly. “Hey, kid.” Jess kissed S/N’s head. “Hi, Jess.” You spoke shyly.

He then turned his attention back to you. “Hey,” He gazed. You stood up quickly and wrapped your arms around him. Luke took S/N from Jess so he could hug you back fully. “I can’t believe you’re here.” He whispered in your neck. “I missed you.” You told him, pulling away. Although Jess always had trouble expressing his feelings into words, it was a little tense when he didn’t respond back to you.

Luke awkwardly turned to you. “Sorry, Y/N, I gotta get back to work.” He apologized, giving S/N back to you. “It was nice meeting you.” You smiled. He winked and walked back to the kitchen.

"Sooo, how have you been?" You asked, trying to start a conversation while bouncing S/N in your lap. "I've been alright." He put his hands in his pockets and began to speak when a blond chick wrapped her arms around him. "Hey. Where were you? I thought we were gonna go to my place." She prodded. She then turned to face you. "Aw, cute baby."

Of course he had a girlfriend. He was always cool and popular in school, so why wouldn't he be here? You were terribly mistaken to think otherwise. But now you felt a weird pit in your stomach. This was a bad move. You shouldn't have come here. But no, your son needs his father. So, you decide to be brave for S/N.

"Can we do this later?" He mumbled to her. "So you expect me to be okay with this? Ugh, what's the matter with you?" She stormed out of the diner before Jess could respond (not that he wanted to). "Trouble in paradise?" You questioned wholeheartedly. Although you were disappointed, you weren't going let this get in the way of your friendship. He scoffed. "Shane is definitely not my paradise. Look," He got serious for a moment and sat down on a stool next to you. "I'm happy you're here. Really, I am! But you came at a bad time." He told you. "Love triangle?" You joked, thinking back to how Rory said things were weird between them two. "How'd you know?" Jess' eyebrows furrowed. Oh. "Lucky guess." You shrugged. Well, this can't get any better can it? "It was nice seeing you. I should go start unpacking though." You stood up and switched S/N to your other hip. "Listen, let me get things sorted out and I promise I will be with you." He grabbed your hand. "Sorted out? Jess, you shouldn't feel forced to be with me. It's okay, I promise." You tried to reason with him. Why did he make it seem like he had no other option but you? Clearly he has choices.

"No, no. I need to be with you. Remember a few weeks ago when I told you I was gonna go back home?" He asked. You nodded. "That's because I wanted to be with you and my son. But you stopped me and I listened. So, now you're here and I'm gonna be the best damn father I can, alright?" He let go of your hand and ran behind the curtain. All of a sudden, S/N began to cry.

a/n: i'm gonna do a part two dont worryy! im just tired rn but i will try and draft something later tonight and maybe post it tmr xx this was a little hard for me to write since jess would be more mature as a father (atleast i think so) and he wasnt alone like in the show yk? but i had fun nonetheless :)

#SORRY IF THIS WAS BAD #i have mixed feelings tbh #next part might be a lil suggestive #jess #jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x y/n #y/n #reader #gilmore girls #jess gilmore girls #gilmore girls x reader #jess mariano fanfiction #fanfic #h3artands0ul #𝓳𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓸 ☕️

[octuscle]

Every Friday Night

What do you give someone who actually has everything? My friend Daniel is celebrating his 40th birthday next Saturday. We've been inseparable since high school. By his own admission, he's had a good life: he's a fairly successful doctor, most people appreciate his pleasant if somewhat reserved nature, and time has only given him the occasional gray hair, a slight tummy and shallow laugh lines on his gentle face.

Although he has had to make some sacrifices over the years to achieve his professional and social status, he admits that it has all been worth it. Until now, I always believed that too. What reason did I have not to? Until we had perhaps one or two too many glasses of wine yesterday. The wine loosened his tongue. And Daniel said wistfully that he regretted not having a more rebellious youth.

Shit, I've had a bit too much wine myself… I'm afraid I've been up to some shenanigans. At least I have a Chronivac app on my phone and I get text messages that my subscription is activated. And there's a countdown. Shit, I have a bad headache. And no idea what's going on.

Daniel calls me and asks me what the calendar entry is for Friday evening. It says "Gym" in the calendar. Yeah, right. Gym. Friday night. Isn't that what we always do? I'm a bit confused. Daniel too. "Yes, of course!" he says. Gym on Friday. As always. Will I pick him up? For some reason, I tell him to meet me at the bus stop. Sure, says Daniel. We haven't taken the bus since school days.

Friday evening. It feels normal to meet Daniel at the bus stop. We're both still wearing our casual business outfits from the office. And a sports bag with us. When was the last time I went to the gym? Shit, last Friday of course. We go every Friday. At least. Daniel greets me with a fist bump and offers me a cigarette. Neither of us smoke.

When the bus arrives, Daniel goes straight through to the back. He sits down in the last row with his legs apart and starts rolling a fag. I sit down next to him. Damn, he smells of sweat and tobacco. i start playing with my cell phone. since when do i have a tiktok account? A guy gives me tips on taking Trenbolone. Daniel looks at my screen, grabs my cock and says that the stuff makes me a muscle whore and shrinks my balls. i ask him why that's a problem. We laugh. The people around us roll their eyes. The bus arrives at our station. As we walk to the exit, Dan lights his cigarette. Before we're even off the bus, I take it out of his mouth and take a deep drag. Fuck the smoking ban!

I think the gym sucks, but Dan really wanted to train here. The other guys are pumping iron in our neighborhood. It's closer and you can go straight to the pub with the lads afterwards. But Dan is obsessed with the big boys. He really wants to become a freak. And shit, we're bros. I have to go with him. And to be honest, I totally dig his gym acne. I bet he's going to be a freak.

Training was like, totally lit, dude! The big boys have our backs all the way, major props. That's so dope. But Dan, he's such a poser, always flexing with pics and posts. And TikTok, non-stop! But man, he's already got a squad of followers. Now we're heading to the pub to meet up with the boys, but we're stuck on this darn bus for another freakin' half hour. The shower situation is a total bummer anyways. A quick spray of Axe under the pits, a dab of wax in the hair – good to go! Hey, Dan nailed it with the fresh cut, maybe I should chop mine off too.

Saturday morning. I feel a bit like I've been run over by a bus. In general… Buses. Shit, what have I been dreaming about buses? Tonight is Daniel's birthday party. He's celebrating at the Savoy. Cocktails at the bar, dinner at the grill… I still have to get my tuxedo from the cleaners. And I still need a present… Stop, wait… Didn't I already give him a present?

The birthday party was nice. A bit stiff. At around 02:00, we sit at the bar for one last drink. And Daniel asks me if I can remember last night. Funny, I have no idea what I did. Neither does he.

Thursday evening I receive a message via WhatsApp. Unknown number. We are supposed to pick up our stuff tomorrow at 16:00. Same place as usual. I have no idea what it's about. Daniel calls me to say that someone has told him that we still owe him 100 pounds for some stuff and that we should fucking bring it tomorrow. We both have no idea what it's about…

I get another message at midday on Friday. I ask if we can bring the appointment forward to 5pm. It's not my new iPhone. It's an old scratched device with a cracked display. I reply: "I'm sorry, but we're still at the gym until 18:00. Unfortunately, I can't make it any earlier." My fingers are moving as if remote-controlled. And now I have to go. The disco-poser biceps don't pump up by themselves.

Yo, so check it out, Dan's out here thinking he's this mega athlete, but homeboy be puffin' on them cancer sticks like there's no tomorrow, I'm talkin' 'bout 10 to 15 smokes a day? Psshh, child's play! Dan be double dosin' that, like he's tryna set the world record for most Marlboros inhaled in 24 hours or somethin'. And then, to top it off, dude's pullin' shady moves like stealin' cash from his pops just to fund his steroid stash! Man, I'm grindin' my butt off every night at the slaughterhouse just to keep up with them gym beasts, and this dude be relyin' on his daddy's wallet? Nah man, he gotta get a real job! Then, as if things couldn't get any wilder, my boy Liam starts talkin' 'bout Tren, that hardcore juice that supposedly turns you into a freakin' beast. I've heard stories, man, dudes growin' extra body parts and all! But me and Dan, we playin' it safe, stickin' to our old school supps for now. Ain't nobody tryna grow a third nipple just yet, you feel me?

I swear, Dan is like a walking perfume factory of pure musk. If he just lifts his arm, he's got every dude and babe in the gym drooling over him. Meanwhile, I'm just here, living my best life at all times. And now, the tattoo sesh with the artist is a no-go. Total bummer. I was so stoked to get my full-on sleeve inked up tomorrow evening. It's just way cooler to flex those guns in a tank at the club, you know? I love flaunting my hard-earned biceps. Gotta keep grinding, you feel me?

I slept naked tonight. And as rumpled as my bed is, I had wild dreams. I've got a movie tear again. My last memory was of strange messages I received on someone else's cell phone. When I walk into the bathroom, my heart almost stops. I have a bloody tattoo on my forearm! I raise my arm to see if there are any more. Dude! Eileen usually epilates my armpits every two weeks. Where did the bush under my arms come from? And why does it smell like I haven't showered for three weeks? I really need to take a shower. Although I have an urgent urge to go to the gym again straight away. That rarely happens. My inner bastard usually wins out at the weekend. And if I'm motivated, I should take advantage of it. I could ask Daniel if he fancies a game of squash at the club, I think to myself as I soap up. When I get out of the shower, I get a message from Daniel. He asks me if I have any idea where his tattoo came from. And whether I fancy a game of squash at the club.

I have no idea what's happening to us. On the one hand, I feel much fitter than I did a few weeks ago. On the other hand, Daniel and I have both started smoking. And we got tattoos. Obviously in a drunken stupor. At the age of 40! Who does that? I mean, Daniel seems so much more relaxed. At work, in his private life. And that pays off. He's never received so much positive feedback… And it's hardly any different for me. I feel so much more agile. And shit, I think about sex all the time. And mostly sex with Daniel.

On Thursdays I somehow always start to get restless. I used to primarily look forward to the week being over. But now I'm looking forward to the weekend starting. Kind of like it used to be. At school or university. And Saturdays and Sundays aren't much different than they were a month or two ago. And I can't remember the last few Fridays for the life of me. And the funny thing is that Daniel obviously feels the same way. It's almost Friday morning when I get a new message from the same number as last week. "Ive got a hell of a lot of m1y on u. Dont let meh down. And if u W, ill owe u 1". I really have no idea what that means. For some reason I save the number under "Liam".

Normally "casual friday" for me means wearing chinos with a blazer. Sometimes with just a white t-shirt underneath. But usually with a button-down shirt. Today I'm wearing a sweat suit with a hoodie top under a down vest. The neckline of the tank top underneath is so low that you can see the gap between my pecs. I actually didn't think about it. It just felt right. And no one in the office questioned it. On the contrary, I get a lot of compliments. My boss personally praises my tight ass. At 3:00 pm I get a message from Daniel: "Dude, were r u? fite starts @ 20:00. Didnt we want 2 trin beforehand? n da photo shoot is b4 tht 2!" I call him and ask him what that shit means. He can't remember any message he's supposed to have sent me. But the fact is that I have to go now, even if I still have no idea where I'm going or why.

Oh my god, this night is straight up LIT AF! Had a sick sesh at training with my ride-or-die homie. Then my first presser, ya boy's the ultimate underdog for this brawl. Cameras flashing like crazy. And then the showdown. Damn, your boy's killin' it. But KO in round two? No one saw that coming. Except Liam, he had faith. Dan's hating, thinking it's all fake. He's just salty. Bros gonna hate, but we're tight. Now we're popping bottles for the win. Liam's shouting that tonight's on him. We ain't gotta be told twice, let's partyyyy!

I could swear my nose looks like it's been broken in more than one fight. Somehow I remember boxing matches from the past. But when? At university? I was more of a debating and astronomy club kind of guy. Shit, Daniel and I need a new sports club. This stuffy country club is for wimps. Yes, we're 40 years old. But fit as fuck. There may be customers and colleagues who turn up their noses at us because of our tattoos. But hey, we weren't born with a silver spoon in our mouths. We've fought for everything we've achieved. And Dan and I agree that we've been really successful.

Yes, we like our jobs. And we're both good at it. But real life starts on Friday afternoon. Damn, you can bet your life on it!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #tank top #inked man #age reduction #ai image #chav tf

[lambic-pentameter]

@sebastianmercier i got u dude

Cirrus and Madala Bashir have been sitting, watching their uncle through the window, for the past 10 minutes at least.

There had been…rumors…among their cousins the cardassian that uncle Julian brought home wasn’t exclusively a friend.

“I don’t see it.” Cirrus said. Cirrus has never been in a romantic relationship (most kids haven’t) and never planned to, so maybe they’re not the best judge.

“I do.” Madala has also never been in a romantic relationship, but many of her friends have (occasionally with each other. Dating in a group got messy very quick).

“They’re just sitting at a table and talking. Does uncle Julian even like men?”

“‘Does uncle Julian like men’ have you even met him before.”

“Look, I don’t know! I don’t pay attention to that stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re too busy playing games on your padd.”

“It’s called coding—” Cirrus is cut off by Madala elbowing them in the torso.

“Ow! What the heck?”

“Look.”

Uncle Julian takes the cardassian’s (His name is Garak, right? Cirrus doesn��t remember) hands into his own, leaning closer to his face.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Cirrus whispers, despite the fact they’re behind a window and several meters away.

Madala presses her ear to the window.

“Nope.”

Cirrus sighs. “Darn you, Federation provided reinforced transparent aluminum they give to all Starfleet families.”

“No they don’t.”

“What?”

“No, mom’s just paranoid.”

“But that’s what she told me…”

“You know she doesn’t like uncle Julian being in Starfleet, she’s worried about our safety.”

“I don’t think the Romulans or whatever will care about two random shut-in kids.”

“You’d be surprised. My friend had to move out to Vulcan.”

“Really?”

Madala focuses back on the task at hand, “Maybe we can send Krishen out. She’s young enough to spy and play innocent.”

“Maybe…oh shoot, they’re looking at us!”

The two children duck down from the window, not wanting their intel gathering to be interrupted.

————

“Dear?”

“Yes, Elim?”

“I believe your—what’s it called again? Your ‘niblings’ are trying to spy on us.”

Julian turns to the window Garak had been staring at, and what do you know it, the blur of two children ducking down below the view of the window is what can be seen.

“Rather sloppy work, if I do say so myself. If I wanted to gather intel on family relations I would’ve at least planted a bug.”

“Not everyone had the head of the Obsidian Order for a father, Elim.” Julian says, with a knowing smile.

“I suppose their idea of espionage is a good one, for children raised in a paradise.”

“You think that they’re speculating about our relationship?”

“Oh, certainly. Their uncle, who’s been living out on Deep Space Nine moves to Cardassia, and then comes to visit Earth with a cardassian.That would arouse suspicion in anyone.”

“Huh. I suppose that’s true…hm.”

“What is it, dear?”

“I’ve been wondering about this cardassian myself…”

Julian leans even closer to Garak than he was before, barely a hair separating them.

“Who he is, why he’s here, why he’s so interested in me..”

“Perhaps we should discuss it in your quarters over a book and two Tarkalean teas?”

“I would very much appreciate that.”

Julian gets up first, grazing his hand along Garaks neck and down to his arm, pulling him along to their guest room.

Two shocked faces (which had since reappeared in the window) can be seen.

————

“Oh my gosh.” Cirrus had their hands on the sides of their head.

“Dude.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“DUDE.”

“That’s like. That’s.”

“That’s basically MAKING OUT for cardassians.”

The siblings look at each other.

“We have to tell everyone, right?” Cirrus asks.

“Absolutely.”

#ds9 #my writing #star trek #julian bashir #elim garak #garashir