#real question could I use this as a cover

[clockwayswrites]

Minx Part 2

Minx is a placeholder name, maybe Part 1, Masterpost CW: references to drug use, allusions to past torture, grabbing

Jason had to suck in several careful breaths as he took in the wound splashed across Danny’s ribs. “No fucking John did that to you and if they did—” if they took some sort of hot poker to Danny’s side— “I’ll kill them if they did.”

Danny blinked up at the ceiling, avoiding Jason’s gaze. “So the John thing may be a cover story?”

“Fuck’n—” Jason clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to work out the urge to punch someone. It wouldn’t do any good with no target to punch. Jason had kept an eye on Danny, best as he could without being invasive, and the other seemed clean of Gotham’s shit. “What are you messed up in Danny? Is it someone’s business? Did you see something you shouldn’t on the job? Hear something?”

“No— I mean, yeah I’ve heard things, but nothing to do with this. This is,” Danny’s hand moved to cover up the mark, as if hiding it would make the problem go away. “This is just some shit from my past catching up with me. It’s nothing you need to worry about, Boss, it’s not Gotham business.”

Jason held back a growl, pushed it back into his chest. “Did it happen in Gotham?”

“No, it happened down in sunny Florida— of course it happened in Gotham.”

“Then it’s fucking Gotham business.”

“Yeah, fuck it is, you stay away from it,” Danny snapped with a smile like a bear trap. He got up and grabbed his shirt with a waver. “Dealt with it anyway. It’s done and—”

Danny froze as Jason reached out to grab his arm.

“Danny—”

“You let go of me, Hood. I don’t care who the fuck you are, you do not grab me like this. No one grabs me like this.”

Jason slowly, carefully, lowered his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to fall over but I shouldn’t have stopped you like that.”

“You fuck’n shouldn’t have.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Jason soothed. He wasn’t good at soothing, not any more, but he would try if it would stop Danny walking out of there injured like that. “Just sit back down and let me treat the wound. I’ll stop asking questions.”

Danny sized him up, eyes sharp with the perfect winged liner. Then he sighed and sat back down.

“Thank you,” Jason murmured as he rummaged around in the well stocked first aid kit for something to treat burn wounds. “How bad is the pain.”

Danny shrugged. He had his chin on his hand and was purposefully not looking at Jason.

Guess he was still in the dog house then.

“This will help the topical pain, but I know burns hurt deep. I’d like to give you something. Have you been drinking tonight?”

“You found me outside a pub,” Danny answered dryly.

“Doesn’t mean you were drinking, Danny, I know you know how to fake it.”

Danny sighed and tilted his head to glance up at Jason. He looked tired now, like the glamor had finally worn off with the stroke of midnight.

“Yeah, I was drinking. Helps with the pain and I knew I could take those shits drunk off my fake tits.”

“Bet you could,” Jason said, allowing himself a little smirk behind his helmet. He’s seen Danny play pool before and it was a thing of wounder. “Okay, we’ll do an IV then, rehydrate you and get some pain medication in your system in one go.”

“IV?” Danny repeated, his voice small.

“It won’t hurt, I can put them in smoothly,” Jason said as he started to work on treating the wound.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re real gently like,” there was a wobble under Danny’s bravado and twang, “but I’m not much fond of needles.”

“I’ll be here. I won’t leave you alone with it in.”

Danny snorted. “Yeah, gonna hold me the whole night so I don’t panic?”

“If that’s what will help,” Jason answered without hesitation. He could feel Danny watching him, judging him for that statement, but Jason just kept carefully working on the wound.

“Don’t be stupid, you can’t wear your helmet the whole night,” Danny said as if that would be the catch.

“Then I’ll take it off before I hold you the whole night so that you don’t panic.”

“Will you?”

“Said I would, didn’t I?”

Jason smoothed on the last of the gel.

“Yeah… okay,” Danny said with a tired sigh. “Okay, let’s try the IV.”

-

Jason sat with his back against the arm of the couch and the pillow propped there. One leg was against the back cushion and the other on the ground still. Danny, make-up washed off and dressed in a set Tim sized sweats, was tucked back against Jason’s chest.

It was easier to sit that way than take Danny staring at his face covered only in a domino and black hair spray on the white streak.

Jason gently ran an alcohol wipe over the inside of Danny’s arm.

And froze.

“Not what you think.” Danny’s voice sounded small and far away. “Hood, breathe.”

Jason sucked an unsteady breath. “What?”

“I said it’s not what you think. I’m not using. I was… sickly, when I was a teen. It’s— that’s why I don’t like IVs and needles and stuff.”

“Promise?”

“And cross my heart,” Danny said, going through the motion. “Girl Scout’s honor.”

Jason barked out a laugh that was still a little too sharp. “Yeah and I was a Boy Scout.”

“I don’t you, you do a lot of community service,” Danny said, draping his head back over Jason’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, I work with different birds than eagles.”

Danny’s nose scrunched up.

Jason liked it better when he could see Danny’s pale freckles.

“Eagle Scouts are the highest level of Boy Scouts,” Jason explained.

“Why the fuck do you even know that?”

“I know a lot of shit,” Jason said.

Danny flinched at the pinch of the needle, but Jason had a good grip on Danny’s arm and was able to get the IV in fully. Jason soothed his thumb over it after he taped the IV down.

“There you are.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Jason promised. “I’m right here.”

#dp x dc #dead on main #minx

[rafeandonlyrafe]

bound and bruised

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, NONCON!!!!, r*pe, male receiving oral, choking, p in v sex, unwilling sex, kidnapping, blacking out, loss of virginity, dead dove do not eat (PLEASE heed the warnings)

“stop fucking screaming.” rafe grunts out as you look up at him with tear stained cheeks.

“my knees!” you sob out. only moments ago rafe had shoved you down, bruising and scraping your knees against the rough flooring. you're sure they're going to be bruised by tomorrow.

“i don't care, bitch.” rafe says, gently slapping you on the cheek, more of a pat to get your attention back on him.

“you're being so mean.” you try to stand up, but rafes rough hand on your shoulder pushes you back down.

“stop trying to get away. you know you can't outrun me so you might as well just do as i say.”

“and what is it you want me to do?” you cross your arms as you glare up at rafe.

“easy.” he huffs out. “you're going to suck my dick.”

“your- your what?” you squeal, eyes widening when rafe reaches to his shorts, swiftly undoing the zipper and button, pulling the two sides of the flap open, but not pushing them down his hips yet.

“you heard me.” rafe smirks down at you, at the look on your face, one of confusion, verging on terror. “now im gonna take my dick out. and you're going to lick it.”

you try one more time to stand up, to flee and get away, but rafe is too strong, easily keeping you on your knees with one hand while the other frees himself from the confines of his clothes, kicking his shorts off before the underwear are also tugged down.

your eyes widen when you come face to face with rafes cock, hard and standing away from his body, much bigger than you could have imagined, but it fits his tall frame.

“i don't want to do this, rafe.” you whine. you've never sucked dick before, and you certainly don't want your first time to be with a guy you barely talk to.

“too bad. now lick it, it's for your own good.”

“what does that mean?” you question, but rafe doesn't respond, moving his hand to grip the hair at the back of your head as he pushes you forward.

your nose bumps his cock as you try to swivel your head out of the way, replaying rafes words in your head. 

you stick your tongue out, taking a cautious lick against his length. you make a face, spitting onto the ground. “this is gross, rafe!”

“you have about five seconds to start licking before i just shove my whole cock down your throat. go.”

you know rafes threat isn't an idle one, so you push away the oddly salty taste as you begin to lick, focusing just on the mid shaft, ignoring the pulsing head of his cock for as long as you can.

“put it in your mouth, come on. you gotta get it real wet.” rafe encourages you.

“for what?”

“suck me first and then you'll find out.” rafe says, guiding your head to the head of his cock.

you part your lips, placing them around the head of his cock, feeling the weight against your tongue as you suck slightly, not sure what you're supposed to be doing.

“shit- that's good. just be careful for your teeth. if you bite me, you'll regret it.”

you have no plans of biting rafe as your tongue flicks over his slit, finding the taste slightly more bearable now that you've gotten used to it.

“that's it, good girl.” rafe says, even though the only reason you take more of his cock in your mouth is his hand pushing your head down.

“cover it in spit baby, you'll be grateful when i fuck you.”

your eyes widen and you try to pull off. no way you're letting rafe fuck you and losing your virginity like this.

“oh, no you don't.” rafe warns, pushing his hips forward to bury his cock down your throat as you gag aggressively around him, more tears pooling down your cheeks.

rafe pulls you off after a moment as you sputter, coughing aggressively to get the tickle out of your throat.

“get up. im gonna fuck you now.”

“no!” you squeal. you really should know better by now. should just lay back and let rafe do whatever he wishes, but you still fight him and try to get away.

rafe tugs you up by your hair, your scalp burning as he pushes you against the daybed, warm from the sun shining down on it, comfortable and soft in sharp contrast to how rafe is treating you.

“now let's see if you got my dick wet enough for this not to hurt.” rafe makes quick and easy work of your clothing, flipping the bottom of your dress up and literally tearing away your underwear as you cry out, skin burning from the fabric.

“it'll be better for you if you relax.” rafe says, spreading your legs open for him, looking down at both your holes as your ass spreads for him, but even he isn't going to take it that far as his cock presses against your pussy.

you're not wet in the slightest, and despite the spit, it still burns as rafe pushes inside as you cry out, gripping onto the daybed, grabbing a pillow and tossing it back at rafe, who easily swats it away.

“don't piss me off or i wont give you any time to adjust.” he warns.

you manage to relax slightly, enough for rafe to push all the way inside as he sits for a moment with his cock buried in your cunt, the virginity you were planning on losing on your wedding night now ripped away from you.

“shit, you're fucking tight.” rafe moans. “next time i fuck you ill get you wet too. i bet if i lick your pussy you'll get soaked for me.”,

“you're not gonna fuck me again.” you growl out.

“i will. i own you now. your pussy is mine, baby.” rafe makes his point by pulling out then pushing his cock in with a hard, punishing thrust.

your defiant words are lost on your tongue as he moves, thrusting into you with a tight hold on your hips, keeping your ass in the air.

rafes moans and growls are loud and unafraid of the neighbors hearing, like him fucking a girl on his back patio is a regular enough occurance for them to not look.

you try to keep breathing, try to keep your cunt relaxed as his cock pushes in and out, your wetness slowly increasing from the stimulation.

“you like this, huh?” rafe smirks, hands moving to grip your ass, leaving red marks from his fingers as he squeezes at your plump flesh.

“it-it feels good.” you admit with shame, red flaring over your cheeks. no point in lying when rafe can literally feel the way your body is responding.

“and i haven't even touched your clit yet.” rafe chuckles. “you'll gush, baby.”

despite his words, rafe makes no movement for your clit. right now isn't about your pleasure as he pulls your body back onto his cock to meet his already hard thrusts.

“don't… don't cum inside of me. please.” you plead out, chest rubbing against the daybed as he moves you, nipples hard even through the multiple layers of fabric and padded bra.

“where should i cum then?”

“anywhere. my ass, my mouth-”

“ill go for mouth. but get on birth control because im gonna flood your pussy next time.” rafe continues thrusting until you feel his cock swell inside of you.

he pulls out suddenly, flipping you over onto your back. you only have a second to take a quick breath before rafe is kneeling over you, shoving his cock between your lips as his hand strokes his base.

the second your lips close around his head, he's cumming, filling your mouth with the salty taste as you swallow it down, somehow seeming more pleasing than trying to spit it all out.

“that's a good girl.” rafe pats your cheek before turning to splay out next to you on the day bed as your chest heaves, pussy feeling stretched and sensitive.

“you wanna cum?” rafe asks. “i can rub your clit.”

“i don't want you to touch me ever again.” you say, adrenaline wearing off as tears form in your eyes once again.

“i wish you wouldn't say that type of thing, baby.” rafe frowns, reaching over to wrap his strong hand around your neck. your body flails as you try to hold onto the last bit of oxygen, but ultimately you give out, vision going black.

you wake up much later. you're not sure how long, but it's been multiple hours, your throat is dry from lack of water and rafe choking you until you blacked out.

“see what happens if you misbehave?” rafe asks as your head snaps to look at him, not even realizing he was in the room.

you look down at your wrist, handcuff wrapped around it, connected to a chain, which is secured to the very bed you're sitting on.

“now.” rafe smiles wickedly, moving to the edge of the bed. “about touching your clit…”

#dddne #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #tw noncon #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot

[brucewaynehater101]

i'm gonna be real idk if your the right person to go for young justice core four headcanons but you give the best replies by far so heres my own idea idea

I was listening to the Roblox Soundfont remix and now the og Gone Angels and now I'm thinking . . .

Tim became Robin to prevent Batman from ceasing to be the symbol of heroism and good he started off as

The symbol that spiraled into destruction of even the self with Jason Todd's death

imagine a world where Red Robin becomes the very thing he swore to destroy with his own death

he dies along with Bart and Kon. Cassie due to this and maybe other factors fucking looses it, Batman post-Jason's death but pre-Tim becoming Robin style

or maybe instead he dies but the rest of the core four lives. either way Cassie still looses it, by herself or with her other teammates

And maybe, just maybe, they get nobody to be the Third Robin to their Batman, no Third Robin to Tim's Second Robin

likely improbably in canon but the idea of Cassie and maybe even Bart and Kon having a villain arc (maybe Black Silence style) is too good of an idea not to share

(Side note; imagine a Gone Angels cover where the survivor(s) sing and for the itallian lyrics in the midway point the deceased sing)

((extra side note: imagine this is what gets Batman and maybe the other Bats to reflect on the time before and after Tim become robin, post Jason's death; seeing their history repeat with Young Justice))

((hell maybe the Justice League realizes as wells))

"you give the best replies by far." Thank you. Sometimes, it takes a bit to reply to asks cause I'm taking a few hours to really answer the prompts/ideas/questions people pose. I also sleep at random times, so apologizes in advance to any asks that take a while!

My image of YJ is a codependent platonic polycule. They are Young Just Us because they didn't receive proper support from their mentors. This is part of why Cassie and Tim fell apart after Kon and Bart died. This is why, in their own weird ways, both of them tried to get a form of Kon back. Tim tried the scientist cloning avenue, and Cassie tried the cult.

If you want Tim's death to inspire Cassie and YJ to go evil, might I suggest Tim sending proof of Bruce being alive in the timestream and then succumbing to his spleen injury (perhaps an infection)? This would create a delicious amount of angst, anger, and mental breakdowns.

Cassie, the only nonretired YJ member alive at the time, didn't believe Tim about Bruce being alive. This was in part due to the cloning stuff but also in part to trusting Nightwing (or Batman at the time). If Tim didn't make it out of that alive, Cassie may be desperate to find anyone to blame but herself for that. She was a kid, she was lost in her own grief, and Tim should have had the support of literally any other hero.

The entire hero community turned against a teenager in his time of need that he resorted to conspiring with the LoA and ended up losing his life. Whether she chooses to be mad about nobody believing him (Tim's possibly a better detective than Bruce and people have revived before, but his evidence at the time was flimsy), she can be very pissed that not a single hero offered to help him. They didn't even need to trust in Tim's decision. They could have just accompanied Tim until the teen gave up or proved himself right. They could have treated it as a grief road trip while Tim found himself.

Anyways, losing the last nonretired YJ member that way may cause her to just snap. The JL was already on thin ice with the YJ for their lack of support to her generation of heroes. Them failing YJ enough that two children died in the field and one died as a direct result of their actions? She would, rightfully, loathe the JL. On top of that, she does already not trust the government for what they did to Secret. If she can't prosecute the JL, she'll become their enemy.

Cassie lost all of her main polycule. She wants revenge.

After Bart and Kon come back, they see how JL left Cassie and what they did to Tim. Cassie is part of their ride or die, and she has been treated so horribly. Tim has died. They obviously join her.

Now, with Bart there to give evil ideas (Bart is the scariest member of YJ and you can't convince me otherwise), YJ is a force to be reckoned with. Maybe some of the other members come out of retirement, maybe not. They would be unstoppable with Tim helping them, but that's the problem. They don't have Tim. Tim isn't there to help them nor hold them back. That's why they became "evil" anyway.

I like to imagine someone, probably Nightwing, screaming at them from across the battlefield. "This isn't what he would have wanted! He became Robin to stop Batman from destroying everything. This is the antithesis of why he became a hero!"

For a split second, YJ would pause. There's merit in those words, after all. Cassie would recover first as she shakes her head. "He became a hero to be the leash to Batman's rage. He's not here now. He's not here to temper our rage, and you did that. You abandoned a child." She plants her feet more firmly and points her sword at Nightwing. "We won't let you do that again."

It's dealers choice on whether YJ win the battle or not. Also, I do believe YJ would be obsessed with trying to bring Tim back. Perhaps some of their evil deeds truly stem from them trying to find ways to bring back Tim. They are incomplete without him just as they were incomplete without Kon or Bart and would be without Cassie.

Now, is Tim actually alive or does he stay dead? Did Ra's revive him using the Pit? Did Ra's lie or misguide the Bats while keeping Tim hostage? Will Tim come back, either after being brainwashed by Ra's or escaping, to find his platonic polycule has officially lost it and turned evil?

#cassie sandsmark #dc comics #dc universe #young justice #young just us #let yj be evil #tim drake #bart allen #kon el superboy #thank you for the ask!!!! #yj can and should take over the world for the greater good

[castorcasting]

Jason Todd x Vampire!Reader

Little Vamp

Note: This doesn’t follow any comic canon. :D

Warnings: Slight bit suggestive

Lately there have been more sightings of vampires around Gotham, with the rise of vampires. Vampire hunters also increased in numbers. 

Jason was recently tracking down these ‘vampire hunters'’. He didn’t really believe in vampires but then again, he was brought back to life by green water so who was he to say what’s real or fake. He’s been keeping tabs on Penguin, Penguin has been hiring assassins to find vampires - since there’s an old legend that says a dead vampire's blood has properties of immortality, or whatever. All those reports led him to you. You're the most important vampire listed in Penguin's list. Jason had a few options in mind, it was to either kill you, or save you. He has no idea if you're a good or bad vamp. He'll find the answer to his question soon enough though .

It was in the dead of night, you were hunting. Silently stalking a creep in a dingy alleyway, that creep has been staring at some young drunk girl. You growled softly in disgust, you had class. You didn’t like to drink the blood of the low, you liked ‘normal’ blood; Preferably blood of non-creeps, though you can't be picky, especially since you had a decent moral. Which is to not hurt innocent people.

The guy slowly went up to the drunk girl, holding her waist and trying to sweet talk her into having a good time. The girl, despite being drunk, rejected him. The man didn’t take the rejection well, leading to him groping her. You had enough, you jumped in. Pushing the creep away with your enhanced strength, he fell to the floor, scurrying away as he's been caught. The girl ran away when it happened, but you panicked when she started darting towards the road. 

Deep down, you aren’t a bad person. You have the title of a vampire, and vampires have a bad rep. You killed the guilty and saved the innocent, however all that killing has rightfully messed with your moral compass. You abandoned the creep who was your meal for the night, and ran towards the girl who was inches away from the busy road. 

You ran and ran, as fast as you could. The problem was, you had super strength, and super hearing only. You didn’t have superspeed, and for some reason that drunken girl was faster than you. “Hey! Stop-..” You heaved in a deep breath. “Stop running!” Reaching your hand out to grab her, luckily you caught her by her hair. You yanked her and she came stumbling to you. The girl cried out for help and apparently god was at her side today. A red batarang came flying towards you; the whooshing sound alerted you. 

You let go of the girl and dodged the batarang. Looking up you saw a guy, covered by his red hood. “Preying on innocent people? Looks like vampire stories are true.” The stranger shouted out to you. You felt your bloodlust increase as your hunger rose, a sign that you needed to feed or you might go feral. Okay maybe the stories about vampires are not far off from the real thing. 

“What little vamp can’t speak?” He mocked. Jumping down from the high building he stood from, holding onto a metal pipe to slow down his descent. You watched cautiously as he approached you, you finally got a closer look of him. His muscles and his height intimidated you a bit. You backed off slowly when you heard the sound of a gun clocking. “Look, there have been sightings of you killing off criminals..I have respect but that's not the way to do things.” He lifted his arm and pointed a gun at you.

“Wait don’t!-” You shouted out, using your arms to shield your face. Jason watched you, he was having second thoughts about killing you. You didn’t seem all bad, sure you killed but it was only criminals, something which he supports. Plus he did kill as well. He lowered the gun, he was still on guard. Thinking that you could be using his emotions to play with him. He observed you through his red mask, the way your body shivered in fear and how your breathing seemed uneven. There’s no way she could be faking all that? If so she could be a damn of an actor. He thought to himself. Jason carefully walked over to you, he couldn’t see your face. He looked at you up and down, trying to find any weapons on you. Nothing, however.. the way your body looks..Jason closed his eyes and just took in a deep breath. Not the time for that now. He scolded himself. 

You slowly put down your defensive stance and looked at him. He just kinda stood there, frozen in a walking stance. “Uh..? Hello?” You waved a hand to his face, he snapped out of his trance and jumped away from your hand. Jason and you stood a few distances apart, he was thinking about what to do with you now. You clearly had good strength, he was watching when you pushed the creepy dude who was twice your size away...It clicked, you could be a useful ally to have. “What’s your name, little vamp?” 

You tilted your head at him, “Why do you want to know?” It was odd. A stranger wanting to know your name after threatening to kill you, there’s clearly a catch to it.

Jason pondered for a bit, he knew that Penguin is looking for you - more specifically, your blood, or DNA. whichever does not matter. If your DNA gets into the wrong hands, it’ll be a catastrophe. The world has enough clones, it doesn't need more. “You could be of use to me.” Jason said in a monotone voice, he saw how your face scrunched up. Cute..It was odd, he just met you and yet he feels an attraction to you...But anyways, Jason saw how your once confident body language became closed off. Crossing your arms and you glaring at him. He must've hit a nerve, he quickly backtracks on what he said. 

“I mean like, you’re a vampire. Penguin is hunting for you..I could offer you protection and you could help me out. Fair trade?” You scoffed, your pride getting the better of you. “I don’t need a simple human to protect me from humans.” You didn’t believe him, because who would protect you? You’re a vampire, feared by humanity and will always be labeled as a threat. But then again..Your heart is aching, you want to believe that this stranger will protect you. Naive little vampire.

You’ve been used before as a weapon, a test subject, and a bait. You just want to be normal, as normal as a vampire can get. No more fighting and killing. Just a mundane life is all you ever hoped for. 

Jason knew what you were feeling when you stayed silent. He may be dense when it comes to emotions but he isn’t oblivious to it. “Look vamp. I get it, you feel like you can’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me either if I were you.” He slowly walked to you. Looking down at you from his looming height, Jason crouched slightly to be face to face with you. “Just trust me alright…I’ll be honest, I see a lot of myself in you, (not like that.) untrusting, prideful. And all that other bullshit, I get it.” 

Your gaze softens and your breath hitches, you couldn’t help but want to trust him. Furthermore, his gaze made your face feel warm. Your head was indecisive but your heart has made the decision. “I’ll meet you in the Batburger restaurant nearby.” You tossed him a tracker that you made, it was in a bat symbol. Not for Batman, it’s for the fact you’re a vampire. You know, the myths of vampires being able to turn into bats. “I’ll find you tomorrow night.” Jason tilted his head in confusion.

 “Vamp..You could just come with me right now. You know that right?” You turned around and walked away. The sway of your hips commanded his attention, he looked at you up and down once again as you spoke. “I need to hunt. I’m a little vamp after all.” Your teasing tone of voice was like music to Jason’s ears. He’s entranced by you. Supposedly all stories of vampires are true to some extent. You’re beautiful in an intimidating way, just like how vampires are described to be. The way you talk and act. He’s a goner. Jason would’ve offered himself as your meal right then and there, but he didn’t want to scare you away. So he watched you jump away on rooftops, blending into the city lights. Jason is eager to see you again. He stared at the tracker you gave him, a smirk forming behind his red mask. See you soon..Little vamp. He thought, as he went on with his night as Red Hood.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you

[bunnys-kisses]

revenge is cold, yet so am i

satoru gojo

cw: pwp/smut, best friend!gojo, unconsensual filming, revenge, pet names, dirty talk, cowgirl, blindfolds, naive!reader, love hotels, body worship, obsessed!gojo

bunny says: happy 3,000 followers to me <3

gojo hated your fucking boyfriend. he hated him. if gojo had his way, he'd be throwing this son of a bitch off the highest tower in tokyo. but instead he had to sit there and watch your bawl your eyes out as for the third time, this guy had cheated on you.

"i'd say just call it quits. it'll be more than easy to find a cock to replace his." he shrugged while you were crying into your wine glass.

"but i've heard all these stories about girls prettier than me not being able to find dates! so... how could i find one?"

gojo laughed, "because none of them have your charm." he looked at you over his glasses, "you could be a real heartbreaker."

"oh, i suck in the bedroom!" you chirped.

"oh?" he questioned, curious about what was going to come next. he took a sip of his drink and listened carefully. how was the most amazing woman he ever laid eyes on 'bad in the bedroom'?

"well honestly, satoru..." you trailed off as you wiped your eyes gently with a napkin, "he... he never made me cum." you swallowed and looked away, embarrassed.

he almost dropped his glass and spat out his drink, "excuse me?"

your face heated up more more and hid it, "i keep thinking it's me. maybe that was why he cheated on me... because i'm broken."

gojo looked at you with wide eyes, "oh c'mon, i wouldn't say that." he leaned forward and took your hands away from your face, "maybe he's just not the right fit."

"then who would be a right fit?" you whimpered pathetically.

that was how you ended up in a love hotel near the bar, you stood at the foot of the simple bed with nothing on. gojo had stripped your bare and marveled at your beauty.

he was relaxed in the bed with his hands behind his head, "see, i think this boyfriend of yours is blind... or stupid." he had his glasses off so his blue eyes dazzled in the low light.

"i just don't think that i'm good enough for him."

gojo chuckled then reached for his cock and gave it a healthy stroke, "oh.. don't worry about that, hun. you're good enough for me."

you covered your face once more, "you're always too sweet for me."

gojo picked up the spare blindfold he kept in his pocket. while it usually wasn't used for sex, but he'd do it make you feel comfortable while you had sex with him. he crooked a finger at you and watched your climb onto the bed.

you straddled his waist and he felt up your hips. a fucking divine being. you could make every other woman jealous. you looked timid but gojo continued to feel you up.

"this guy doesn't know what he's talking about." he could feel his cock twitch against your thigh. he was ready for you. he wanted to feel that tight cunt.

you whimpered as you watched gojo sit up with the blindfold in his hand. you nodded when he asked you to trust him. then you tilted your head down to let him put it over your eyes.

it was quiet opaque, which only made him question how he saw through it. but maybe it was because you weren't the sorcerer that he was.

he guided you onto his cock, and eased you down on his length. when you tighten around him, "that's it. see, fits just right." his words were hot in your ear as you splayed your hands on his abdomen.

you started to move your hips, you heard a faint noise but couldn't think of much else except the cock that was inside of you. you rolled your hips gently.

"satoru."

"my name sounds great on your lips, baby." he chuckled. his hands weren't on you, but rather on his phone. but you couldn't see it due to the blindfold on you.

"what if this doesn't work."

"then." he tapped your chin with one finger, "we'll keep going until it does. i want to make you believe that you're not broken." he licked his lips as he angled the phone to your breasts as they moved with every jolt of your hips.

"you're too sweet."

"only for you, angel." he chuckled as he noticed that your mouth was hung a little open as you rode him. he wanted to make sure your no good, broke ass boyfriend knew what he was missing out on.

he was weak for not being able to make you cum, but gojo knew that you two were pieces of the same puzzle and he'll wring orgasm after orgasm out of you. the thought excited him as he continued to film you.

"shit, satoru."

"that's it, angel. you feel so good around me." he praised, "you look amazing. i don't know what this guy couldn't see in you. those hips, your breasts, even the faces you make when you're seated so good on my cock." the words drew out of his mouth.

"oh shush, satoru. you're making me blush." you whimpered.

he chuckled, "it's only the best for you. i need to show you some real lovin'." he turned the camera to himself and winked at the lens, "broke ass boyfriend doesn't know shit." he chuckled, "lost a good girl. a good fuck."

"satoru!" you yelped, the camera was turned back to you. there was a glisten of sweat that was starting to form on your heated skin. you continued to ride him like a champ.

and he was right, it was making you feel much better than when you were with your boyfriend. or rather ex-boyfriend. gojo's cock was impressive, as was the rest of him, but his cock left you speechless.

"such a pretty girl." he chuckled as he rolled his hips gently. you whined and he almost laughed. he was impressed by how sensitive you were.

you continued to ride him and the feeling was electric. you felt it in the tips of your fingers and toes. it was unlike anything you ever had with any previous partner. your heart hammered in your chest as you continued to rut against him.

"beautiful." he drew out as he got a close up of your covered face. you had no idea he was filming you or that he was going to send it to your ex-boyfriend.

maybe it would show him how to be a real man.

gojo did plant on hand on your hip to guide you better onto his shaft. he could feel the pleasure bloom in his gut as you continued to move against him. your hole fluttered around his cock.

you were a delight, he felt engulfed by you. it only made him harder when he got a good shot with the camera of his cock splitting you open. the wetness glisten around the base of his length.

he gave one last wink to the camera like the sadist he was and put it down so he could focus all his attention onto you. he didn't feel like booking the room for another hour.

he started to match your pace, his cock drilled into you. your moans became looser and you felt the zig-zag of of pleasure through your system. you held onto him as best as you could while your hips shook.

"such a pretty sight." he purred as he licked his lips. he could see the haziness in your eyes, pleasure had melted your brain. maybe he could get another hour in the room if it meant that he got to see that face more.

with a few more thrusts of your hips, you came around his cock. and the tightness of your cunt around his cock made him shoot cum into the back of your womb. it was risky, but gojo would always take care of you.

"ah! satoru!" you moaned before the fight left your body and you dropped onto his chest and felt his strong arms cage you against him, "you were right. it was him."

he chuckled between the heavy breaths, "i know. you're just so perfect that i knew it had to be him." he kissed your face softly, almost tender. but left the blindfold on. "how about we try another position, i think we could go all night."

you weren't even thinking about the repercussions of letting gojo finish in you so many times. but at that moment, when you agreed to another round, you were simply glowing at the fact you were able to cum while being full of cock.

gojo was just happened that he got to fuck his best friend. as he kissed you on the lips deeply, he felt his damp cock twitch between his legs. you didn't need your stupid boyfriend.

you just needed him.

and with one message he'd ensure that you were his for a long while. <3

#bunny writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojō x reader #satoru smut #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo #gojo jjk #jjk fanfic #reader insert

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 1600+

Warnings: none

Part XVIII | Part XX

"Where do you think you are going?"

You turned just in time to see a male stepping out of shadows. It was Azriel, his golden brown eyes shone in dimly lit hall, shadows dangerously danced around him. He sized up the redhead next to you and your hand on the knob of doors to a spare bedroom. His brows furrowed, his gaze wavered with momentary anger. In a single heartbeat Spymaster mastered his expression and let the cool unreadable mask slid on its place.

"You didn't make it far, princess," Lucien whispered to your ear.

"Good to see you, Shadowsinger," he said aloud, smirking as usual. "We got lost in this labyrinth-"

"I'm going back," you said with firm voice, ignoring Lucien's attempt to cover up for you.

Azriel paid no attention to Lucien, his eyes trained only on you, searching. "Why?" His voice was cold, without any emotions.

"I have to.. No.. I want to. Tamlin needs help. Moreover this isn't my home anymore. I like you all a lot, but my home is in Spring Court."

Azriel was silent, his face didn't give out any hint of emotions. He seemed to be choosing his next words very carefully. "There's more to it," he tilted his head to the side. "You have feelings for him, don't you."

It wasn't question, but you still answered. "I'm not sure what exactly I feel. However I'm sure I want to be there. As I said I like all of you, but it isn't enough."

Several emotions flashed across his face, too fast to be noticed by untrained eye. You could recognise only hurt and it caused your heart clenched. But you couldn't back out. Whatever you felt for Azriel in the past turned into something resembling siblings' love in last weeks. However confused you were at the start, after tonight and the almost kiss it was clear. You loved him, just not the same way he loved you.

"So.. are you going to tell my brother? Or call for him?"

He blinked, shocked. "I promised to protect you. Why would I do that? You said you want to go back at least million times since you came and even though you stopped saying it lately, it is in your eyes. The same sadness as the first day you awoke. I hoped it could change, but.."

Now it was your turn to gape at him in surprise. You didn't expect this from him. Azriel was Rhysand's brother, spymaster, his loyalty belonged solely to his High Lord. Behind you Lucien whistled lowly. Apparently he didn't expect it either.

"So you let us go?"

Azriel's jaw tightened as he stepped closer to you. Lucien muttered something about checking if the coast was clear and disappeared behind the corner, giving you privacy.

As soon as he left, Azriel's mask cracked, revealing his real feelings. A lump rose in your throat. Everything you saw, was so raw and unusually vulnerable and you were the one who caused it. However you couldn't take it back. You wanted to hug him, but it would only wound him deeper. And so you just stood there quietly and waited.

Now there were only a few inches between you and Shadowsinger. Air filled with the smell of cedar and early morning mist. Tips of his fingers graced over the back of your hands gently. You could swear he stopped breathing. Resting his forehead on yours, he closed eyes.

"I won't stop you from being happy," he whispered, his deep voice full of sadness. "Although I won't lie. I wish I was the one to give it to you."

Before you could tell something, he took a step back. Azriel cleared his throat, the cool mask slid back. "Go to my room and use the balcony there," he said in his spymaster voice. "Nobody will see you. It's safe. I'll try to get you as much time as possible, but once Rhys finds out you aren't here, it will take him mere seconds to find you. Be ready."

You nodded, tears stinging your eyes. There weren't words that could express your gratitude, so instead, you kissed his cheek. You held it for a second longer than you normally would do.

"Go," he whispered, gently pushing you away from him. His voice trembled a little.

Giving him last look you pivoted and walked in the direction Lucien disappeared in. You didn't look back. You knew he wasn't there anymore.

Lucien waited just behind the corner, leaning against a wall with arms crossed on his chest. He straightened up as soon as you appeared.

"Are you okay?" He seemed to be genuinely worried for you.

You nodded. "He said his room is safe to use."

Lucien didn't ask more questions and followed you.

It took just several minutes to get to Azriel's room. Once you were in, without looking around you ran to the balcony doors and out to the chilly night air. Spirits shone brightly as they migrated across the sky, sounds of party muffled by distance. Indeed, this room was enough secluded from the rest of the house to give you a privacy.

Lucien joined you shortly. "We have to jump to get out of the wards," he leaned over railing, looking down to the darkness bellow.

"I know," you breathed out, already nervous. For a moment, you wished to have your wings to avoid this unpleasant experience, but they were gone for centuries. That doesn't matter anymore, you had to remind yourself.

Lucien hopped up on the railing easily like a cat and offered you hand. You gladly accepted his help and he pulled you up in one smooth move. Strong gust of wind came from bellow, playing with your skirt. You didn't expect it, lost balance and your foot in high heel slipped. Lucien wrapped his surprisingly strong arms around your waist and stabilised you.

"Are you okay?" He quirked brows.

You nodded. "Thank you."

"So.. can we? Do you trust me?" You again just nodded. You were so nervous you couldn't speak.

Without hesitation Lucien threw himself to the emptiness taking you with him. You stopped the scream that fought it's way out with your hand. With the other hand you held on Lucien. You noticed he was grinning. The redhead had to be crazier than you originally thought.

As you flew through the wards you felt small pull. It took mere seconds and Lucien finally could winnow you away.

Your legs safely touched the ground, but immediately gave under you and you fell to the soft grass. Lucien didn't expect it and fell with you, landing on top of you. Both of you grunted.

"Next time you should warn me," he muttered trying to untangle himself from the skirt of your dress and stand up.

"There's going to be no next time," you breathed out. You were trembling too much to even try to sit up. "That was so scary." You hid your face in your hands.

"Oh, c'mon. It was fun. I'd gladly go and jump one more time," he teased you. Lucien tentatively pulled your skirt down and smoothed it out. Tilting head to the side he watched you.

"You okay?" His voice was suddenly so kind that you put your hands down to see if he wasn't mocking you. He crouched next to you, again offering you a hand.

"I thought we were going to die," you admitted.

"Nonsense," he snorted. "I wouldn't let you die. Look around. We made it."

You did as he said and looked around you. You were in the dark garden, air was filled with smell of roses, rain and freshness of spring. The outlines of a large building loomed in the darkness before you.

"Where are we?"

"That's Tamlin's mansion," he pointed to the building. It seemed to be abandoned, the only light was a reflection of the moon in the window glass.

"Let's go in," you scrambled to the feet.

Lucien caught your elbow, stopping you. "No, it's too dangerous. We have to wait till morning."

"I can not wait," you freed your hand from his grip. "I don't know how much time I have left before somebody finds out I'm gone. I have to go in. Now."

You began walking toward the mansion with Lucien in your heels. "Y/N, listen," he whispered urgently, looking around nervously. "I understand. I really do. You have my full support. But I am not joking. It is too dangerous even during the day when he will clearly see you and there will be no doubt about who you are. At night.. it's suicide."

You didn't listen. Your eyes found out something resembling doors and you headed for that.

"Cauldron boil me," Lucien hissed under his breath as you opened the doors with loud creak and stepped in.

The room you got into was familiar. It was the very same room Tamlin winnowed you to, but it was even messier and more destroyed than before. Lucien followed you closely.

"We have to get out of here," he was whispering angrily right into your ear. "Now! This is bad idea!"

Your eyes caressed the remains of the paintings with claw marks. There was nothing left here that Tamlin didn't smashed to pieces.

"Tamlin," you sighed, tears gathering in your eyes. As if in answer a howling shook the walls.

"Gods" Lucien next to you paled. "If he hurts you Rhysand will skin me alive."

Fox-boy snapped fingers and whole mansion brightened with light. "We better see him coming otherwise we are dead."

From the hallway you heard the sounds of paws and claws scraping against marble. It was getting closer. Soon enough a dirty and messy lupine head with antlers appeared in the broken doors, his eyes yellow and dangerous, saliva dripping from the mouth with bared teeth. He growled deeply. There was nothing left of Tamlin. In front of you stood a wild beast.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #english isnt my first language #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #azriel shadowsinger #lucien vanserra #sarah j maas #acotar x reader

[green-eyedfirework]

Wintergreen blinked at the request.

He usually spent time listening to the pulse of the underworld, monitoring contracts on various forums and sites, talking to his sources, managing the web of contacts he had to find the kind of jobs that Slade would take.  He was meticulous about it—Slade was attached to his reputation, and Wintergreen still had to hear his bitching about the one and only job he ever left unfinished, even though completing it would’ve meant killing Jericho.

Often, Wintergreen was approached directly.  Several people wanted Deathstroke the Terminator’s services in particular, and most were smart enough to use him as an intermediary, rather than be faced with Slade’s uncertain mood.  Wintergreen filtered through those as well, though most were Slade’s usual style and paycheck.  There was a certain responsibility in essentially being a pseudo handler, a responsibility Wintergreen had accepted years and years ago, and he made sure to bury any contract that would destroy more of Slade than was already gone.

This particular contract...well.  Wintergreen didn’t know what to do with it.

It was from a verified source—it was from Nightwing, so the morality of the job wasn’t in question, but Nightwing had never put out contracts before.  Strange in and of itself.

The pay was generous, but then again, Dick Grayson was newly in control of the entire Wayne fortune, so that made sense.

The job was...unusual.

Wintergreen reread the contract, hoping it would make a little more sense this time.

Stand-in for Batman.  Mission parameters strictly non-lethal, and minimum collateral damage.  Mission includes patrolling Gotham City and assisting with containment of Gotham Rogues.  Suit and gear will be provided.  Particulars available upon acceptance. 

Batman was dead.  The whole world knew it, even if the Bats and the Waynes attempted to cover it up by sticking someone else in the suit and hiring a lookalike to play Bruce Wayne.  Anyone with half a brain could tell that the Bats were fracturing—though in all fairness, they’d been fracturing for a while, Batman was just enough of a terrifying specter to cover it up.

And now Nightwing wanted to bring that specter back.

Well.

Wintergreen thought through the logistics—Slade was certainly capable of it, and the job wasn’t unreasonable—and then the implications—Dick Grayson must be truly desperate, if he was going to these lengths—as he considered the contract.

He finally came to a decision.

If nothing else, at least he’d get to see the look on Slade’s face.

~#~

“You’re going to need to repeat that again,” Slade said flatly.

“If you haven’t heard it the first twelve times I told you, Slade, I’m not sure what one more is going to do,” Wintergreen said.  The bastard was amused, Slade could hear it.

“You’re telling me,” Slade growled, “that the goody two-shoes Robin is asking me to play Batman.”

“He’s Nightwing now, and yes, that is what I’m saying.  I’m glad your listening comprehension isn’t failing.”

Slade made an inarticulate snarl.

“Are you accepting the job or not, Slade?  It’s a yes or a no question,” Wintergreen hummed, looking away from the screen and down at his keyboard.

“You can’t be serious.”  It wasn’t April 1st, and Wintergreen wasn’t in the habit of playing jokes, but if one of the kids had gotten to him—“Whose idea is it?  Joey?  Rose?  Given that the man is dead, it’s in poor taste.”

“It’s not a joke,” Wintergreen replied.  “Confirmed with Nightwing himself.  It’s real, and yes, they’re really asking for you.”

“Why?” Slade asked, honestly bewildered.  “I thought someone else was filling the suit.  And even if they aren’t, why not get one of the other heroes to do it?”

“Nightwing was doing it, but he sprained an ankle, and the situation is too precarious in Gotham for him to take a break.  No one else was available.  Or so he says,” Wintergreen added, looking up.

“And you think this is a legitimate contract.”

There was a long, stretched silence.  “Yes,” Wintergreen said finally, quiet, “I think it’s legitimate.  They need someone with the skills, the control, and discretion, you fit all three.”

Aside from the fact that he was a mercenary, he’d fought them all once before, and now they were willing to trust him with the keys to the empire?

“I saw him.  Nightwing,” Wintergreen clarified.  “He looked exhausted.  I doubt he had the energy to come up with an elaborate lie.”

“The kid’s a good actor,” Slade said automatically, and ground his teeth.  “It’s most likely a trap.”

“You’re Deathstroke.  Nothing they try is going to keep you down—”

“Just going to jinx it, are you—”

“And besides, Slade—aren’t you the slightest bit curious?”

Damn him.  Damn him to the deepest pits of hell.

Slade always loved a challenge.  If Nightwing was attempting a double-cross, Slade would enjoy shredding his plan to pieces and exacting retribution.  And if he wasn’t...playing a hero?  One of the first heroes, the infamous Dark Knight?

His blood was singing already.

“Fine.  Get me a plane to Gotham.”

~#~

The meeting location was a rooftop in Gotham, which was typical.  What wasn’t typical was Dick Grayson stumbling out of the rooftop access door on crutches, dressed in dark clothes and a domino mask in an attempt at secrecy.

Slade had thoughtfully foregone the Deathstroke armor, given the particulars of this request, but Grayson didn’t look armored or even armed.  “Slade,” Grayson said, with something approaching relief.  “You made it.”

“You have a job for me?” Slade said archly, watching as Grayson hobbled over.  Sprained ankle, his ass.  Something was at least cracked there, or Grayson would’ve foregone the crutches entirely.

“Yes,” Grayson wavered on one foot to run an absent hand through his hair.  In Slade’s professional opinion, the kid looked like shit.  “I’m assuming Wintergreen told you—”

“I’m not sure I can believe what Wintergreen told me,” Slade raised an eyebrow.  “Seemed a little too fantastical to be true.  You sure you want me for this job, kid?”

“You’re the best, aren’t you?” Grayson smiled, and it was a shadow of Nightwing’s charming grin.  No wonder the kid had broken something, if he looked this close to passing out.  He’d probably worn himself straight into the ground.  “But if you’re accepting, we can take this downstairs.”

Slade should’ve said no.  Should’ve walked away.  Gotham was a sinking ship without its protector to hold it afloat, and best case scenario was that the place wiped itself off the map.  He could even consider it a civic duty.

But the lines of exhaustion on Grayson’s face stopped him, the lines of exhaustion for a face that young, and besides—what was life without a little risk?

‘Downstairs’ apparently meant the basement, because of course the Waynes had a penthouse apartment with rooftop access and an elevator down to a secret bunker below the building.  Wayne had really gone overboard with his bases, how many toys did the man need?

No, Slade was not jealous, and besides, there wasn’t a single gun down here.  Not a single blade either, except for the one a twelve-year-old was currently menacing him with.

“So this is who you obtained to play theater for a week,” the kid sneered, and he sounded just like his parents.  Both of them.  “A trained pet who sees the world through a scope.”

It might’ve been insulting, if the kid wasn’t twelve.  “Al Ghul,” Slade greeted, walking past him like the katana wasn’t even there.

“Wilson,” the kid spat, and those prickles were all Talia.  The scowl was definitely Wayne’s.

“Is he going to be part of this too?” Slade asked, because he was demanding a raise if that was the case.  The kid was a biter, and Slade wasn’t a babysitter.

“No,” Grayson replied just a little too quickly, his eyes going wide for a fraction of a second.  “No,” he repeated, calmer.  “Robin will be staying off patrol until I recover.”

“Tt,” the kid sneered, “I shouldn’t be handicapped by your mistakes, and I already told you that I’m more than capable of patrolling—”

“We already discussed this, Dami,” Grayson said, his light tone at odds with his pinched expression.  “And my answer hasn’t changed.”

Slade could practically feel the kid’s seething glare, and mentally marked down a note to watch him.  Twelve or not, the kid had been raised an assassin.

“Now, Alfred will be down soon to make sure the suit and gear all fits properly, and I’ll teach you how to throw batarangs in a bit, but first we’re going to go over the rules,” Grayson said, easing himself into a chair in front of a large computer setup.  “First rule.  No killing.”

Slade took a deep breath, “I’m well aware of your moral code, kid—”

“No killing,” Grayson repeated, blue eyes sharp.  “Not for any reason.  Not if you think it’s the only option left.  There’s another way, there will always be another way, and you’re smart and fast enough to find one.  Batman doesn’t kill, and if you’re going to wear the cape and cowl, I need to know you can stick to that.”

Grayson was acting like this was the first non-lethal mission Slade had ever taken.  “No killing,” he repeated mildly, and Grayson deflated slightly.

“Great.  Rule number two…”

#my snippets #bruce lost in time arc #slade gets a very unusual contract

[aesfocus]

TW: ANIMAL DEATH

A tiny little celebration and recounting of this lil old lady, who passed away yesterday april 22 2024, 6 years to the day her adopted sister left the world.

Read on to learn about her adoption story and some of her fav things!

I made sure she had a comfortable lovely weekend, but she let me know it was time.

So who was Turtle?

In Aug 2010 I went to a local shelter and adopted 2 kitties. One a kitten we named Genki, and another a 1+ year old mystery owner surrender they named Hello Kitty.

She saw us and started yelling and slamming herself on the glass to show us how to pet her. She snugged onto my lap immediately in the little private room to meet her and I was in love instantly.

But back at home she was very scared. She hid under the couch for three days only peaking her head out to eat some food and then she went back in. This would be the last time in her life she would be shy, but I didn't know it so I named her...

Alligator Snapping Turtle; Turtle!

She quickly became my shadow. Clinging to me night and day. She would jump onto the back of my chair, lay on my back and slowly slide down towards my butt. She did this so frequently she managed to break the chair, eventually. After that all my chairs have been bought with more room for her to snug me. For a whole decade.

If someone visited, she would insist they hold her, or she'd sleep on them in their sleep. She once was held through a 3 hour long DnD session by someone she had just met; she loved people. Loved being pet, but above all, she adored me.

She had a specific meow for me, she spent every single night for nearly 14 years in between my legs, and unfortunately, as she got older she got separation anxiety real bad. She would cry and cry for about an hour each time I left. (I rarely do as I no longer work but even a trip to the grocery store did not leave her happy!) I know this because my husband had plenty of videos of her standing at the door hoping I would return.

No matter what I did in the house there she was.

But lets back up a moment, remember that bit about owner surrender? That intake form was interesting. with questions like "What is your pets favorite toy?" came answers like 'small glove'. She spent at least a year in someone with 7 children's garage. They fed her 'cheep food' and knew very little about her past other than they found her about a year prior. No judgements to them, but this girl was a lap cat to end lap cats. You would pick her up and move her to stand and she'd jump right back into your lap. She's dig her claws in if she thought you were trying to leave. She wanted the warmth god damn it!

Here is her on top my husband. Human's were good options.

Heat vent? Also a great option.

She would, when I worked, stay in bed in the covers right where I left her until I came home from work, all nice and cozy.

She loved it when my husband worked from home, gave her ample time to try and fry his laptop during his breaks or lunches.

But her fav place was on top of me. I set up my desk just for her actually! This big living room chair was purchased so she could always be near me.

Because the previous snug situation was not cutting it!

Here she is on the chair I bought for us.

She was never very photogenic, because she saw my hand and wanted pets. If I wasn't petting her she'd cry and show me how to pet her with her paws, or she'd flop around or rub herself on something and look up at me like 'come ooooonnn you know the good spots.'

Or she would do a 'turkey twerky'(where cats twitch their tails and step from foot to foot rapidly in excitement).

Her fav toy it turned out was not a 'small glove' but in fact the simple spring. Yellow was her fav color of the springs, but past that any small bit of plastic she could chase around and yell at was great. She was a very loud little lady!

I sang her a song daily for about ten years;

"Her name is turtle! and she's a turtle! And she's got a lot to say!"

after which she'd generally make a BIG meow and I'd give her tons of attention. Because she was my lil baby girl.

But her all time fav thing, beside me of course, was going outside. She didn't get to much as I believe in, and have, indoor only cats, but on special nice days we'd go outside and she'd gets some nice supervised time with the grass. (She made the other cats jealous because only she was let outside without a harness, but that's because if she wasn't in about a 2 foot radius of me she'd come back and yell at me to follow/I was able to out run her.)

Last year I had her shaved, because she was a fat cat who was struggling with cleaning herself so we were going to get on a rotation of shaving and baths and brushing to make sure she stayed nice and clean...

But unfortunately she began to drop in weight very quickly, the primary sign something was very wrong.

She was adopted on the same day as Genki, and six years to the day she passed on the same day as her sister. Genki lost a very long fight with a fungal pneumonia in 2018 and our hearts shattered and then yesterday they did it again.

If Turtle was my heart, my little shadow, then Genki was my husband's.

Turtle was such an amazing good friend, I have so many memories of her and it doesn't seem real that she's gone. But I wanted to keep this light, and positive, and so I will end it with, adopt.

Don't shop, adopt. You never know who is waiting for you in a shelter, what kind of very full wonderful life you can provide each other! Hello Kitty became Turtle and she knew that name, she'd come running any time I called, she was my very best friend and I miss her so fucking much.

#tw: animal death #tw; animal passing #turtle #mine cats #cats #cutie pies #a farewell #pls be respectful and don't rebagel it thank you

[poetryandfluffycats]

Quiz time!

A/N: took a small break but im back and im writing bungo fics. hope you enjoy

Pairing: Kidnapper!Nikolai Gogol x fem!reader

Warnings: dark content, kidnapping, mentions of animal violence, mentions of human violence, implied abuse

Content: Nikolais been keeping you trapped in his basement for 3 weeks now. What does he have in store for you today? You have no idea

Words: 1.0k

Oneshot under cut!

"Oh darling! I'm home!"

The infamous voice of Nikolai Gogol shot through the basement, followed by the sound of his leather shoes creaking against the stairs. My head snapped up from its place on the pillow, watching him with wide eyes as he descended to the bottom of the staircase. The jester had a smile on his face, seeming all too giddy about... something. What that something was, I had no idea.

He was quick to skip over to me, looming over my curled up form under the covers, a hand buried deep into the abyss of his coat. He pulled out a bouquet of pink roses, shoving them under my nose. "For you, my dove" he purred, his voice dripping like sickly sweet honey.

I took them, albeit hesitantly, and examined them with a cautious eye. They were pretty, a light, pastel pink color with a white ribbon tied around the stems, and smelt like heaven. A sweet-but not too strong-floral scent that reminded me of the spring time. It was a nice gift, no one could deny that, but knowing Nikolai...

There had to be some type of ulterior motive.

"Pretty..." I murmured, holding the flowers close to my chest. "Thank you..."

I hadn't spoken much since I got here, only ever really muttering a word or two to keep him satisfied. He talked enough for the both of us, anyway, or at least that's what he had said when my lack of words first was noticed by him.

"Only the best for my sweetest dove! Now, come come, what shall we do today? You're probably just dying to have some fun, right? Aha! I know!" Before I could fully understand anything he had said, Nikolai pulled the covers back and lifted me in his arms, carrying me bridal style as he twirled around the basement.

"Quiz time!"

Quiz time. His way of asking personal questions on the justification that it was 'just a game' and 'there's no need to be shy". Sometimes he'd throw in random questions about Ukrainian literature, to which I almost never got right. I think that maybe he thought that asking a few general questions among all the pervy, personal ones would make me more comfortable, or less likely to catch on to the real meaning behind his game. It didn't.

I hated Quiz time.

Nikolai plopped me down on the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of me. His teeth showed as his lips curled upwards into a toothy grin, head tilted to the side and eyes blown wide. Maybe that's just how he always looked.

"Question 1! What is your favorite color?"

It was such a simple question, childish even. Something a teacher would ask their preschoolers on the first day of school. Yet, it made my throat close up, heat beating faster and faster as the seconds ticked by. What was my favorite color? Did I even have one anymore? What was the point in having a favorite color if I was trapped down here?

"Uh..." I stuttered, eyes flickering around the room. Anywhere was better than Nikolais cold, mismatched eyes. "Purple... b-but I also like red"

Nikolai clapped his hands together, a high pitched squeal leaving his lips. "Wonderful! Gosh you are just too cute, I might simply combust! But then you'd be stuck cleaning my brains off the wall which I don't think you'd like very much, so I'll refrain for you, my darling"

Cleaning brains off the walls? He said it so casually, like it was a normal passtime for him. Was it? Probably.

"Question 2! What is your favorite animal?"

This one was easy enough, and a small smile creeped onto my face as I answered. "Kittys, I have a few at home. They're the best little guys"

My heart ached at the thought of my fur babies. How long had they gone without food or water? Without being pat or doted on? Did they miss me? Had someone taken them in or were they sitting at the window waiting for my return?

Would I return?

Nikolai squealed again, his smile growing impossibly wider, the tips of his lips nearly touching his ears. "Cats are adorable! So fluffy and cute and squishy! I would just love to squeeze them until their little heads popped off!"

He suddenly scooted closer to me, the space between us slowly decreasing until our knees knocked together. He brought his fingers up to my cheeks, pinching them as if I was a baby. "Just like you! Squish, squish, squish! So damn cute"

Our noses bumped together as he leaned in closer, those cold eyes hyper-focused on my lips. I felt like I might hurl as his hands trailed down from my cheeks to my waist, his fingernails digging into the flimsy fabric of the nightgown he forced me into my first day here. This was wrong. So, so wrong.

"Please" I whined, tears threatening to spill at any second. "Please don't"

I had been so lucky the past 3 weeks with him not touching me, not with sexual intent anyway. No kissing, no touching, no... sex. Nothing. He would ask his stupid questions, force me to play his stupid games, and lay with me in bed at night, but that was it. But now, it seemed my luck had finally run out.

"Question 3!" Nikolais voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down my spine. "Now, dove, this is the last question, so make sure you pay extra attention, mkay?"

Not like I had a choice.

"Who do you love the most in this whole wide world?"

There was only answer to that question. Only one answer he wanted, anyway. I had learned the hard way what the consequences of getting it 'wrong' were. It was so degrading, humiliating, dehumanising even, the punishment he had given me for answering with the wrong person. I wasn't keen to go through that again.

"You, Nikolai. I love you the most" I sounded robotic, like a puppet. Which in reality, I kind of was. Just a little puppet in his clown show.

"Correct! 3 for 3, you're so smart! Now, for the reward"

And then, his chapped, cracked, messily painted lips were on mine. It wasn't recpirocated, it wasn't even pleasant. It was gross, slimy, wet like a fish. Maybe I could pretend I was making out with a fish. That would've been million times better than this bullshit.

I hated it.

I hated him.

I hated myself.

#oneshot #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #yandere bsd #yandere bungo stray dogs #nikolai gogol #nikolai gogol x reader #bsd nikolai #Nikolai x reader #decay of angels #yandere #yandere nikolai gogol #yandere nikolai x reader #yandere x reader

[james-stark-the-writer]

feel like pure shit, just want her back

#james talks #riverdale #miss the whole crew really but Betty especially bc Lili was so magnificent #god as perfect as the finale was (and it really was one of the greatest finales ever) i wish we had gotten another season #they had as good a run as a show on that network could hope for but there are few shows on there that eclipsed the network like Riverdale #like the list includes like. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and Gossip Girl. and ig The Vampire Diaries. and that's it. #(that list is for shows almost exclusively produced by the CW. CXG DID have other producing companies but it was largely the CW). #no show will ever quite be like Riverdale ever again and no show will ever reach the heights it did. #especially not on their shoestring CW budget. #like honestly i just need more Riverdale in my life. #like RAS and the writing team found such a great way to turn their weaknesses into strengths. #as an article on the show once said [paraphrased]: it was a great show that was really good at pretending to be bad. #even now nobody gets the show like i do. #everyone thinks it's some silly little show about crazy shit with crazy plotlines and pretty lighting and aesthetics but no substance— #when in reality it's an incredible pulpy anti-fascist text questioning the role of authority using those aesthetics for a larger purpose #but i'll save the real analysis for whenever i get around to actually making the Riverdale video essay i need in my life #unless Quinton Reviews or SuperEyepatchWolf beat me to it first. they're the only people who i think will actually understand the show. #like SuperEyepatchWolf's video on the show is already pretty fun even if it's a little dismissive of the substance of the show— #(tbf to him it only covered up until the S05 mid-season finale and S06 hadn't released yet) #but like he at least feels like he gets the spirit of the show. especially with the wrestling comparison. #and i hope i don't need to explain why Quinton would get it. #anyway. i need the Riverdale crew back.

[avocado-frog]

how am i supposed to live laugh love under these conditions

tldr for tags my mom found an old journal of mine and read through it so i accidentally outed myself to her lols

#might be a vent in the tags jsyk #but brooo i had this journal when i was 14-15 and my MOTHER read it today because she Could (tm) #the journal in question was in a box in the storage unit that clearly had my name on it so she chose to open it and read through the journa #right so the journal in question had the name isaac on it and i am not out to her #i guess i fuckin am NOW??? #but she hasnt said anything ab that. she def saw it tho. RIGHT on the cover #but no her focus was that i wrote that i. didnt particularly care for her when she lived with her boyfriend which is a WHOLE can of worms #but tdlr on him he kicked my brother and i out bc my brother used his phone past his bedtime. we were 13 and 11 #and he fought with my mom + 11 yr old brother every night for like four years. which sucked a lil tbh #i dont know what she EXPECTED it to say #gonna be real im a little mad #because like girlllllllll you chose to open that box and then open that book and like that's mineeeee you cant just do that shit :( #i dont have to deal with it for two more days. am at my dad's house #i am fixing it with the power of ✨white out✨ #WHICH I SHOULDNT HAVE TO DO. IT'S LITERALLY MINE #if i keep thinking about this im going to explode #vent #??? #i think #ok update like an hour later. i read a little bit of the journal that she read and uhh SHIT. #girlie i wrote all THAT and you're upset because i wrote that i dont like your boyfriend??? okay

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#hmm thinking abt Halloween costumes bc i lov Halloween #and like the urge to dress up as a narut0 character is real #i think i could get away with long haur anbu tenzo or haku without having to wear a wig #but thats abt it #but the stuggle is that i just like to use Halloween as an opportunity to cover myself in fake blood #so am i willing to give that up to pretend to be a ninja.... that is the question #i shall have to ponder this #and maybe make an idea if i dont go as a ninja #i mean. i really dont even do anything for Halloween. i just dress up by myself and grin #so it would be a waste to spend a bunch of time on something #... but thoso ninja masks tho. and fake blood #agh... well ive got like 3 months to decide #unrelated

[alastors-wife]

Am I the only one who's really like...uncomfortable with the fact that these doctors are trying to claim that everything stops after 2 years on hrt. Because that's such bullshit

After seeing a bunch of trans folks talk about their experiences on T I've seen people say they experienced changes for up to 10 years, I think it's just not as rapid of a change after 2 years. But it hasn't ended either lol

The idea that 2 years of hormones is like all you're going to get is absolutely absurd to me anyway. Human bodies keep changing and developing for years (far beyond 25, like a lot of us have been taught for some fucking reason) and part of that is BECAUSE of hormones. tf?? why would this be an exception

I honestly think it's just that we're not seen as important enough to invest time in, especially given that we know fuck all about most of the medical side of it aside from extremely basic shit, and even that's limited. It really pisses me off because like we're gonna have to PAY for that too.

I shouldn't be asking my DOCTOR who's even giving me my hormones in the first place about the differences in how certain illnesses will manifest when you're on hrt (e.g the whole male vs female heart attack symptoms thing) and she just doesn't have an answer for me. There's nothing. Because no one cares, and that's just barely scratching the surface.

I know scientifically there's been some improvement with transitioning in the last 50 years or so but it's still not even CLOSE to where we need it to be at and it's infuriating

#like most people would think they could ask their doctor a simple ass question and get a real answer... #..not ''lol idk they havent cared enough to study that'' that is INSANELY depressing #it makes me wonder what kind of bullshit older trans ppl had to deal with back in the day when there was practically no research at all #and they were stuck w the underground shit... like that's horrifying #i'm grateful that i have a good doctor and medicaid covers my hrt but i'm enraged that we're still so far behind #because this lack of empathy & willingness to research anything related to us WILL have consequences

[shotmrmiller]

When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.

And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—

"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.

When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"

Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."

The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."

Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.

--

Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.

But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)

His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.

"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."

It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.

And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.

The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.

He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—

And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."

He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.

The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.

He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.

Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.

Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.

Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.

Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.

"Mornin' LT."

A grunt is his only reply.

Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.

"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."

He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."

Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.

"When?"

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #johnny soap mctavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost smut #cod mw2

[drchucktingle]

From Chuck Tingle, author of the USA Today bestselling Camp Damascus, comes a new heart-pounding story about what it takes to succeed in a world that wants you dead. Misha is a jaded scriptwriter who has been working in Hollywood for years, and has just been nominated for his first Oscar. But when he's pressured by his producers to kill off a gay character in the upcoming season finale―"for the algorithm"―Misha discovers that it's not that simple. As he is haunted by his past, and past mistakes, Misha must risk everything to find a way to do what's right―before it's too late.

----

BURY YOUR GAYS cover has been released today and theres something TRULY INCREDIBLE about it, something that bends timelines and melts away the edges of the void and brings tears to my eyes. can you see it? let me explain in a thread as you PREORDER NOW... 

for nearly ten years i have been publishing my stories despite pushback that they are too odd. us buckaroos are the outsiders, but this community has kicked open the door for art that is sincere and strange and beautifully unique. that is my trot and that is OUR trot as buds

we came out of nowhere and made CAMP DAMASCUS a usa today bestseller. every step of the way that book overperformed. buds were CONFUSED that a book from ‘silly meme erotica author’ could take flight. but us buckaroos knew it was inevitable because we know the power of love

i still recall the question ‘are you SURE you do not want a new horror pen name?’ HECK NO i am proud of the tingleverse. i am not ashamed of these queer erotic stories i drag up from bottom of my heart and spill with raw sincerity across irony poisoned timelines

i have been mocked my whole life as author that is ‘ridiculous no-content meme’ by those who have never read it. that my work is ‘not real’. i have been mocked for my autism and queerness and told THIS WOULD NEVER WORK. which brings me back to cover of my new book BURY YOUR GAYS

looks like the name chuck tingle is NOT a liability for the mainstream. all devils who doubted can gaze upon this cover and see bold CHUCK TINGLE staring back at them PROUDLY from the shelf in all its queer autistic glory... HOVERING ABOVE THE TITLE AND JUST AS BIG AND PROUD

thank you nightfire and chucks manager and chucks agent for believing in me. these buds have always had my back. thanks to BUCKAROO COMMUNITY who have always supported my way, this next step in our trot is not just about me IT IS ABOUT US. we kick open these doors together

so heres to making this world a little more unique and strange for those of us who are, ourselves, unique and strange. heres to bending timelines to us, instead of us bending to them. heres to name CHUCK TINGLE big and bold ABOVE the title on a big five traditional published book

and remember the best way to support an author, especially someone on outside pushing their way in, is to PREORDER THEIR BOOK. because of publishing business model it is SO IMPORTANT so if you would like to support chuck then PREORDER BURY YOUR GAYS NOW

#bury your gays #tingleverse #chuck tingle #love is real #queer #horror #lgbtqia #actually autistic #misha #buckaroo lifestyle #lets trot #queer horror

[revasserium]

Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man

accidentally in love

opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader

summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.

a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.

Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.

You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.

“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.

“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.

Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”

Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.

“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.

“What, finished with that book already?”

“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”

Sanji blushes.

Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.

“You never answered my question, y’know.”

He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.

The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.

“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.

“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”

“What are you making?”

“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.

“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.

“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.

“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.

You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.

“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.

“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”

Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.

“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”

When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.

“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”

The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.

“Ah, shit —”

“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.

“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.

The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.

“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.

“Thanks.”

He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.

Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.

Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.

He wants to reach for you.

Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.

An alarm goes off.

“Oh fuck —”

He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.

Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.

“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.

You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”

“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.

“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”

“Hey —”

You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.

Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.

“We’re not done talking about this.”

You cock your head, “About what?”

But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.

“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”

Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.

Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.

“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.

“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.

Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.

You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:

Kitchen — after dinner.

You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.

The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.

You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.

When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.

“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.

Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.

“This afternoon —”

“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.

One word from you and —

“So? What about you?” you ask.

Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”

He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.

“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”

A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.

“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”

Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.

“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.

“Yes.”

You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.

“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.

Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.

You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”

Another kiss.

Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.

“That’s two.”

You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.

“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”

Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.

“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”

“Did you ever doubt?”

Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.

“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.

“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”

Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”

“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”

You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.

“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”

recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.

#uhohitsemmy #opla #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece netflix #one piece fluff #sanji opla #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #opla x reader #opla x you #opla fluff #x reader #floofy floof floof #yall when i say we're whipped i rly do mean WHIPPED #also shoutout to my bf for making that menu for dinner cause i kno nothing about european style cooking #least of all french cooking #scheduled post