Latest Posts by the-avengers-not-the-nazis - Page 4

Vampires were missing a crucial element in their design in Supernatural, and I personally believe it was the charisma.

Look at ANY vampire media out there: Dracula (I recently watched Van Helsing), Interview With The Vampire, Lost Boys, etc. They’re all charming, smooth-talkers, able to lure in their prey with just words alone! Ex. That last scene in the first episode of Interview With The Vampire, where Lestat manages to gently coax Louis into letting him kill and turn him; or just look at Santiago as he acts in theater performances.

Vampires in Supernatural didn’t really have that. They were lacking in the charisma department, and the more I look at David in TLB as I’m writing my AU, the more cheated I feel.

100% agree with this

i was thinking abt this for a while

will there be part 4 of Bad moon rising? 🥺

Hi! Yes, there will be a part 4 of bad moon rising. I have just been super busy with school and work that I’ve had no time to actually get to work. And when I have been able to have time to write I needed up getting massive writers block. But I do plan on finishing the chapter and sending it out hopefully in December. ;)

hopeless romantic! jason todd who thinks cheesy pick up lines are stupid, and that surely, the shakespearian shit is gonna work on hinge

hopeless romantic! jason todd who doesn't get why everyone he tries to match with doesnt fw his poetic bars (hes TRYING)

hopeless romantic! jason todd who finally, FINALLY gets a match. he has to put his phone down for a million years just to process everything and then glances back down at his screen to make sure it's still there.

how is someone is genuinely that stunning?

hopeless romantic! jason todd who feels like he's fumbling every time his messages you. if he had less pride, he'd probably ask dick for advice, but no, fuck that, he can do things on his own. it'd be humiliating to beg for romantic advice from him.

at least you seem amused by jason's antics. even if he does seem mildly inept with flirting. dork.

hopeless romantic! jason todd who makes sure to ask about your favourite flowers to get you a bouquet of them for your first date and meet up

hopeless romantic! jason todd who drops said flowers when he finally sees you in person and loses all his words and cognitive function for a moment when you say hi and greet him with a friendly hug. yeah he's not surviving the date.

completely and utterly hopeless! jason todd when the date goes incredible. he walks you home because... obviously? it's gotham and it's dark.

you leave him with a kiss on his cheek and the promise of seeing him sometime again, and he just knows he's a goner.

This is such a good drawing. I could never 😭

Introducing you all to my favorite OC that started out as a lost boys oc Sawyer "Steele" Henderson. He's the singer/bassist of his glam metal band Virtue of Crimson.

you: wait, babe… we can’t fuck yet… you aren’t wearing protection…

your vampire lover: protection? what do you mean prote- oh ok so fuck you first of all

you, holding these:

at first i was looking at michael’s dumb himbo walk and then i spotted poor marko struggling w his bike in the background LMAO

HELP THE BOY

Hello!! Can you do asking Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile who’s the prettiest girl in the world??

Hey, hello! So, I feel like this question can be interpreted in two ways: you wanting to be called a pretty girl, and you asking them like they’re a puppy… I came at it from the latter. Hope you like what I’ve written for you.💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons, some fluff, smidge of humor

Who’s the prettiest girl? (Cross Guild)

Buggy

His face turned tomato red both from embarrassment and flattery.

The way his breath caught in his throat made him sound like a snorting bulldog.

The audacity of it all! He was a grown man, an intimidating man, an emperor!

His face twisted into a pout the longer you looked at him with absolutely no malice or ill intentions in your presence—just adoration for him.

Sinking into his armchair, he grumbled a bit. “I am…” he murmured.

“Hm? What was that?” You teased.

“I am!” He huffed loudly.

You threw your arms around him and gave him the cuddle he was secretly after upon confessing that he was, indeed, the prettiest girl.

Mihawk

He blinked at you.

When he took a bit longer to respond than you’d anticipated, you felt like shrinking into your skin as the awkwardness you were creating dawned on you.

“You are,” he said flatly.

Your lips quivered a bit and you let out a soft, “Aww.”

When you inched closer, he could tell what you wanted from that sweet look upon your face. 

He opened his arms and gave you that hug you clearly wanted.

As he rubbed your back gingerly, you blurted, “I am the prettiest!”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

Crocodile

His posture tensed as your question fell on his ears. 

He looked up at you, annoyance written all over his scarred face. His tongue flicked at his cigar.

“Hope this isn’t your way of being cute.” There was a faint huff of amusement in the ridiculousness of your question.

Okay, maybe you caught him in a bad mood…well, worse than usual.

You’d always been a bit of a wild card in your own right, one to play with fire. He both loved and despised that about you.

An exasperated sigh left him when he realized you weren’t going to let it go. “Me.”

That was the best you were ever going to get out of him, so you gladly took it as a win.

dwayne + being sweet and/or a dork

I NEED TO KNOW WHO THE FUCK DECIDED TO TAKE THE ORIGINAL INDIANA JONES MOVIES OFF OF DISNEY +! BECAUSE YALL JUST RUINED MY NIGHT!

imagine delulu ace inviting himself onto the thousand sunny after returning reader to the strawhats cause he MUST make sure they adjust back to life with the strawhats alright. like the more jealous strawhats (zoro and sanji) are trying to do everything in their power to get ace to just leave, but no, he NEEDS to stay for just 2 more weeks to make sure they’re ok!!!

and like i wonder how luffy would feel? excited that ace and reader get along so well, jealous cause ace is monopolizing reader’s time??

I thought this was cute, so I hope you enjoy the little thing I wrote.

AU Masterlist

---

Zoro wanted to break Ace in half. 

He hated the man, his Captain's brother, he was stupid and annoying, loud and obnoxious. He took up so much space that if felt like there was no place on the ship he could go without seeing his dumb face. And what annoyed him even more, was that you were always there, smiling in tandem. 

Maybe Zoro hated you, because he felt his stomach turn every time he saw you with the man. His hands were always on you, he was always so close, and you seemed oblivious to the way he looked at you. Maybe you just liked playing stupid, which annoyed him. You were always all smiles when near him, laughing and merry as you leaned on the shoulder of Ace, making Zoro want to throw him into a wall. 

Sanji couldn't focus on anything else other than the sound of food sizzling, because if he didn’t he’d ignite into flames. He could hear your laughter out on the main deck mix with Luffy’s, imagining what your face looked like right now. Maybe your smile would be small, watching him and his brother goof around from a distance. Maybe you were in a more mischievous mood, goofing around with them. Maybe Luffy said something funny and you were falling over with laughter. 

Regardless, he focuses on the food in front of him, trying to push you far out of his mind. He buried himself in the methodical routine of cooking, escaping from the rest of the world as he tried his hardest to forget you, at least for a moment. 

Zoro couldn’t stand the noise. 

You were so loud, Usopp and Chopper joined in on your antics. Usopp and Luffy were hanging off of you as you laughed. The noise kept him from falling asleep, distracting him from his relaxation. You were a distraction, he came to the conclusion a long time ago, Ace’s presence on the ship didn’t help either. He was with you everywhere, attached to your hip like a lost puppy. It was disgusting, seeing a grown man act like a child, and as he saw Ace pull you away from his two crew mates into his lap, he huffed in annoyance at the sound of your giggles. 

Sanji wanted to hand you lunch, but he couldn’t find you. 

When he did, he saw you shoved up to Ace’s side, clearly asleep. Surprisingly, Ace was awake, waving when he saw Sanji walk up with plate in hand. He didn’t reciprocate any of the kindness, instead glaring down at the man. Your soft snores only warmed Sanji’s heart so much as he watched Ace move some hair out of your face, causing you to snuggle more into his side. 

“I'll save it for them.” Ace said when he realized the food was for you, only for Sanji to move it away from him with a deep frown. He knew it was wrong to be acting this way, but he couldn’t help it. Watching as Ace all but shouted his closeness with you to the world made him want to rip his hair out. It wasn’t fair, he’s been without you for two years, you should be snuggled up next to him. 

“No, I'll give it to them when they wake up.” 

Sanji knew it was stupid, but he wanted Ace to starve. 

Zoro sat across the table, watching with contempt as Ace whispers something in your ear, causing you to laugh.

If he was more drunk, he would’ve thought the sight was funny, watching Luffy grow jealous and try to push Ace away, latching onto your other side. If he was more drunk, he would be slightly happy to see you so full of joy as you spend time with your friend. If he was more drunk, Zoro wouldn’t care that you were so close to Ace, your shoulders flushed up against each other. 

But Zoro wasn’t drunk enough to deal with any of this. He takes a swig of–something–he doesn’t care any more, as he snarls at you, interanally annoyed that you’re not paying attention to him, or really any of the crew. Luffy is always by your side, even more after you returned from your time away with him, so he wasn’t bothered by that. No, he was bothered by this man acting as though he’s something special, more special than your own crew. It made him want to slash his chest with the steak knife next to him. 

But he wasn’t drunk enough to resort to that.

Sanji wondered how you like his food, you’ve barely touched it. 

Ace is slumped up against your shoulder, snoring in a drunken slumber, while you're trying, and failing, to move him back to his own seat. Sanji eyes your plate, filled, making him take a longer drag of his cigarette. Maybe he could make you something later, once Ace has finally left. It would just you, indulging yourself in his food, and him filling himself with the sight of you. 

But instead, Ace is still snoring on you, Luffy is trying to get you to pay attention to him, Usopp is talking to you about–something–he doesn't know. The others are laughing at your clearly overwhelmed state, while Sanji keeps looking at your plate from his spot in the kitchen. 

Sanji wants you to eat, and as he looks at Ace, he wishes he would disappear. 

Luffy can’t sleep, running off the high from the events of the day. He shifts around in his bed, wanting to know what you’re doing. He finds it funny how much he thinks of you, though it’s not nearly as much as when he was training with Rayleigh. He had a lot to think about during that time, after you saved his brother it was almost like something shifted in his mind, making him feel weird. He tried to ignore it for the longest time, but it only made him feel worse. So, he learned to accept it, and ever since returning to you, he’s never felt better. 

 Luffy finds himself on his feet, peering out the door to the deck, watching as you talk to Ace. He knew Ace was leaving tonight, you also knew this, so he didn’t know what you were doing here. Maybe you were saying goodbye, but you already spent so much time with him during the day, you had the opportunity to do so then. Ace was sitting on the railing, close to where Stricker was tied up. You were standing in front of him, in between his legs, as Ace took your hand in his. Luffy felt his chest tighten as Ace says something, he couldn’t hear what, but it made your eyes widened while Ace smiled at your reaction. You seemed embarrassed, pushing Ace away lightly, not enough to make him fall overboard. He laughs, beckoning you to come back as you huff at his antics. 

Luffy felt like he should be happy, to see you so comfortable around his brother. 

But for some reason, he felt like he hated Ace, and worst of all, he didn’t really care.  

---

A/n: This was NOT what I wanted, I tried to write this big confrontation between Zoro and Ace but my brain was not braining, so I hope you liked this.

i need stealth black sanji to fuck me bro

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.

19 > 40/40 40 > 19/19

these freakin guys

Sometimes he likes to daydream about you

Dear God Get Out

jason todd x reader

aka not a moment of privacy

warnings: mild sexual activities, more people than jason would ever want in your apartment during those times

The second Jason’s through the door his arms are out, seeking to pull you into him. You let him engulf you in his arms without thought, this being the first time you’ve seen him all day.

“Missed you,” He mumbles into your shoulder.

You hum and rake your fingers through his hair. “I know. Missed you too.”

He pulls back to look at you and holds your neck gingerly in his hands. “You’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nod and kiss his collarbone softly, wrapping your hands around his forearms. He gives your forehead a kiss and walks you backwards to the couch, leaning down over you until you have to sit.

He follows you down and kisses your lips and guides you backwards to lay. He drapes himself over you, inserting himself between your legs. He refocuses his attention to your neck, and sucks at a very particular spot below your jaw that you know he targeted on purpose.

“Okay, that’s not fair.” You breathe out, halfway to a sigh.

“No? How ‘bout this?”

He nips at you, startling you to a near moan. Your reaction only encourages him, as he holds your jaw and tilts your head to the side for more access.

He slips his hand under your shirt, grazing the skin underneath. He leaves open kisses all across your collarbone, trailing them down your stomach once he has your top off and strewn half away across the room.

You stop him, pulling him back up to you for a kiss. He furrows his brows at first, only understanding when you start to pry at his shirt too. He removes it for you, tossing it with startling accuracy right by yours.

He resumes kissing down your body, hands trailing down your sides along with him. He peppers kisses on your thighs and hooks his fingers into the seam of your underwear, readying to remove them.

It’s almost astonishing how silently he'd managed to open the window only to stumble and flail his way to the floor.

The sudden clatter scares the hell out of both you and Jason, who jumps to a stand immediately.

“Tim!”

“Evening. D’you guys still have any—oh.” Tim finally regains his coordination and stands up to see you sprawled out on the couch, bra and underwear your only cover.

His eyes go to the floor real quick and Jason lets out an exasperated sigh, looking around for something nearby to cover you up with.

“—you know, wait up means wait up!”

Oh good, Dick’s here too.

You sit up quickly and try to cover yourself with your arms, though there’s not much of a difference you can really make.

Dick ducks in from the fire escape and lands significantly more gracefully than his counterpart had.

It takes him no time at all to assess the room and see you, knees to chest on the couch, trying very hard to appear as though you’re not half naked. Takes him even less time to see Jason, standing in front of you, fuming.

“Oh. Oops…”

Jason chucks the tv remote at Dick and uses the distraction to pull you up from the couch, pushing you behind him. His massive frame is more than enough to cover what his brothers have no business seeing.

“Get the fuck—”

And just for good measure, Damian jumps down next and crouches in the window.

“Jesus Christ,” your boyfriend mutters, hands covering his face in exasperation.

Damian takes one glance at the room and grimaces—Tim’s eyes are glued to the floor, Dick’s acting as though there’s something very interesting on the ceiling, and Jason’s shirtless. He can’t quite see you behind Jason, though he doesn’t need to in order to guess what he’d just walked in on.

“Ugh, seriously Todd? That’s disgusting.”

You let your forehead hit Jason’s back, thoroughly embarrassed. He reaches back to caress your waist, and you know somewhere in that action there’s a reassurance that he’s going to get them out as soon as humanly possible.

“Yeah, seriously. This is our apartment, demon brat. Get out.”

“Maybe we should come back later…” Dick suggests, more awkward than in his usual character.

Jason glares up at the heavens. “Or never.”

“At least keep it in the bedroom, you animals.” Damian chastises.

Jason suddenly wishes he hadn’t thrown the remote so soon. “Our apartment.”

He looks back at you without moving the shield of his body, eyes apologetic. You meet gaze and turn your head to rest your cheek on him instead, your own hidden meaning of reassurance. It’s fine.

You can’t see them but you hear a shuffle and hope to god it’s not another vigilante.

You place a hand on Jason’s lower back and peer around his shoulder, seeing Tim turned back around towards the window and trying desperately to get Damian to move out of the way—Damian, seemingly having no regard for Tim’s urgency.

You’re not quite sure if it’s over discomfort or embarrassment in seeing you so undressed, or if it’s because his self-preservation kicked in when he saw the look on Jason’s face. Maybe both. Probably both.

Both.

“Will you stop?” Damian slaps his hand away. “We came here for a reason.” He looks past Tim at you, “Do you have—”

“No.” Jason cuts in, growing visibly more agitated.

Damian’s face contorts as he looks back up to Jason, “What is your—”

Now Dick cuts in, “Okay, that’s fine, we’ll just ask the old man.”

“Great.”

Dick pauses. “On the couch though, Jaybird?”

Jason takes a deep breath.

“Alright, ten seconds, then I get the gun taped under the table.”

That’s warning enough for Damian—he’s called that bluff once before and learned the hard way.

Tim doesn’t even take a second glance before hauling it out of your apartment, his cape getting caught on the window frame briefly before he scrambles away.

Dick calls out an apology to you before trailing out the window after him.

Jason lets out a heavy exhale and turns to you, hands gliding naturally to your waist.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t need to be.”

He gives a low hum and wraps his arms around you, pulling you down with him as he crashes down onto the sofa.

“Should I feel bad about almost railing you into the couch?”

“I wouldn’t waste any tears over it. Not like it would’ve been the first time we did it.”

He laughs and tugs you further into his chest. You curl into him and close your eyes, thinking.

“Jay?”

“Hm?”

“How did Tim survive as Robin?”

“I’ve been asking that question for years.”

reblog or 🚫

Seat Number Four

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,500+

Synopsis: You are stuck on an eight hour flight between two gentlemen you have never met before. Unaware of their prior history and dislike for one another, you attempt to relax and watch a new series your friend recommended. The series was a little more raunchy than you had anticipated, and you become a little uncomfortable in your seat between the two attractive men. Doflamingo reassures you your need is nothing to be ashamed of, and he would be more than willing to help you out if you allowed him to teach the younger blonde how to best please you.

Warnings: Doflamingo x cisfem!reader x Sanji, gendered terms used, Vinsmoke name used, modern au, NSFW, smut, MDNI, 18+, threesome, public sex, fingering, finger sucking, penetration, oral, (dub con masturbation by a guest appearance), Spanish Doflamingo, French Sanji, not very much plot, praise (reader receiving), degradation (Sanji receiving), bisexuality hinted (subtle Sanji x Doffy), Dom Doffy, Sub Sanji, switch reader, voyeurism.

Notes: based on this post by @/shamblespirate (I don't know if they'd like to read this or not, so I thought I'd spare them the debauchery) and the encouragement of @physics-of-one-piece. Sitting between Doffy and Sanji, two unhinged blondes on an 8 hour flight? What could go wrong?

Stumbling through the boarding gates and checking your luggage at the last minute should've been the sign that this eight hour flight was not going to go the way you expected.

This simple trip you needed to take for work was booked at the worst time. The only warning you received from your boss was a quick email stating the fact that you needed to pack your bags to attend a week long conference. No further context, no meetings, no chance for rebuttal, and simply no time.

What made matters worse is the fact that you were meant to be situated on the window seat of the last row of the plane. Closest to the bathroom, furthest from the food, and caged by the bodies of two complete strangers.

However, these strangers seemed to know each other, both sitting in pregnant silence as steam seemed to rise from the younger blonde’s ears in simmering rage. That same younger blonde, who seemed to take your absence from the final call for boarding as your consent, to sit in your assigned seat.

Not one to cause a fuss, you stored your carry on above the taller, tanned blonde in the aisle. His glasses did very little to conceal the heavy eye contact he made with your breasts as you had no choice but to bury him in the chasms of your chest as you stuffed your bag above him.

The first few hours of your early afternoon flight was filled with tension. While the taller man seemed to antagonize the younger blonde in Spanish, the younger would curse at him in French beneath his breath.

Blocking them both out with your headphones, you opened your traveling laptop as soon as the signs indicated it was safe to do so, and listened to music while finishing off your final projects for your boss. Each time you made to adjust your arms more comfortably, you would inadvertently brush your body against either of the two men. Uttering your apologies beneath your breath each time, you were not made privy to the conversation that was being made regarding your persons.

“She looks rather pent up, rubio. Do you think she'd appreciate my fingers stuffing her pretty cunt full-?” the snickers of Doflamingo were cut short by the younger blonde.

“-That is no way to treat a lady!” the hushed tone flew through the air like a kick to the chin, only seeming to draw up the older blonde’s smile wider. Looming over your shoulder as you commenced the beginning of a series, Doflamingo looked through the base of his glasses at you before looking over the rim at Sanji.

“You were the one to take her seat, mi pequeño. How’s that for treating a lady?” Sanji glared at him, offering no retort for the theft of your seat. It's true, he stole it from you the moment he noticed the close proximity to the Don of Quixote. Being an heir to the Vinsmoke dukedom had them both in similar social circles, and each time they met, Doflamingo would tease and torment him regarding his obsession with serving women.

Treating women with respect was a foreign concept for the other heirs, and Doflamingo seemed to enjoy tormenting him about it. In actuality, he admired that in him. Doflamingo loved his mother, and he often thought of her fondly. Sanji made those soirees entertaining and bearable, and Doflamingo wanted to return the favor.

“I think this lady would allow us both to treat her, if you catch my meaning,” Doflamingo chuckled, prompting Sanji to snap his head over at him. Before the younger could speak, Doflamingo halted him with an observation, “The series she seems to be watching has had a fair amount of love scenes and nudity. I don't think she was anticipating that in this series. Just look at her, sitting there all flustered.”

Slowly shifting his eyes over your form in a manner to not startle you, he noticed how flustered your face was. Eyes wide, heat radiating from your face, and slinking your body down into the seat, surely enough, you were fully fixed on the series. Although the screen was darkened, Sanji could clearly make out the shapes of two men and a woman indulging in intimacy on the screen.

Your breathing seemed to both slow and quicken with the elevation of your heartbeat, prompting Sanji’s eyes to darken on your blissfully ignorant form. Doflamingo's grin widened as he gained Sanji’s attention back onto him.

“Once the rest of the aircraft vessel falls asleep, I would love to teach you how to really treat a lady, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo intentionally brushed his chest against your shoulder as he learnt closer to Sanji, “If she's willing, of course.” Hastily darting his eyes down to you and back up to Doflamingo, Sanji reluctantly gave his nod of understanding.

“Only if she's willing. I don't want to make her uncomfortable,” he uttered strictly. Noticing the soft shudder in your form as Doflamingo held himself against you, Sanji felt this wave of protection swirl in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he made to make a move to rally to your defense, you made yourself comfortable in the shroud of Doflamingo’s embrace.

“I think she'll be more than willing,” Doflamingo eyes you dangerously before reaching down to unplug your headphones from your ear. Snapping your head over to him, he hushed you with his voice dripping in smarmy sweetness.

“Easy now, mi querida,” he smiled genuinely, “The dining cart will be by shortly. Just making sure you didn't miss out on a choice.”

“Oh!” You smiled at him reaching down to the bags you stored beneath the seat for your wallet. “Thank you, mister…?”

“Doflamingo,” he gave you a polite nod of his head while closing his eyes at you. Gesturing with his chin, he drew your attention to the younger blonde, “The Frenchy is Sanji.” You turn your smile to the younger one, noticing his fluster seemed to grow and litter his cheeks in a soft blush.

“We couldn't help but notice the series you were watching,” Doflamingo continued, his fingers hooked beneath your chin and turning you to face his much taller body, “And I thought you should know, we're both very interested in seeing how it plays out. Care to remove the headphones from the port so we can hear too?”

“Oh, uh-...” a wave of bashfulness overcomes you at the knowledge that they were both witnessing a particularly graphic depiction of love making over your shoulder, “...a friend recommended the series. I didn't know what to expect, and they absolutely didn't warn me about the content.” Both Doflamingo and Sanji chuckled at you in their own ways, enjoying your company and getting a better read on your character.

“I don't think either of us mind a bit of graphic content in with our plot, do we pequeño,” Doflamingo asked Sanji, his smile quirking up at the corner, “You could use a few pointers on how to please a woman anyhow.”

“Speak for yourself, le vieillard,” Sanji retorted at him in a hastened quip, “I know how to please a woman just fine.” You shook your head and chuckled at the way they balanced one another. As the dining cart approached, Doflamingo placed his order and offered to pay for both yours and Sanji’s in synchrony. Both of you expressed your gratitude, enjoying being treated by the older man.

As the night wore on, your meals lay firstly improved by the younger blonde before consumed. You learnt they were both in high social circles, the younger had aspirations of becoming a chef as depicted in his satchel of spices. The older gentleman was from a reputable family that sold their fortune off to investors without his consent. He had to claw his way back up to the top, leading to an empire he molded for himself.

While they truly should've been in first or business class, both of them seemed to find entertainment in regular seating. You were grateful for their attention and company, and enjoyed being doted and treated by two blonde men who were eager to please in their own ways.

Once under the cover of nightfall, the meal trays left collected and napkins discarded, and the raunchy series had finished, you all spoke in hushed tones and gossiped about the characters. Talks of: “She deserved to find happiness,” or, “The way they filmed that was exceptional. Tasteful nudity with a hint of wanting. Simply beautiful,” and “She could've had both men if she played her cards right.”

Doflamingo’s larger form swooped ever closer, the shroud of his pink, feathered cloak caging your body in your seat as he leant in closer. Asking permission with his eyes, you nodded your head as you felt him press his lips against yours. Tongues darting out, Doflamingo reached forward and grasped at Sanji, tugging his wrists and placing them on your thighs first. Guiding Sanji's chin up to your neck, you felt the younger man latch and lick at your pulse as Doflamingo stole your breath from your lungs with his kiss.

Tilting your chin with his hand, Doflamingo made a trail with his digits down your neck and through the hem of your shirt to grip at your breast. Noseying through the material of your bra, he began softly rolling and lightly pinching your nipples beneath the cups. Consuming your soft gasps needily, he guided one of Sanji's hands to reach beneath your shirt to cup at your other breast.

Hands, lips, tongues and teeth overwhelmed you. Everything was too little and too much all at once. You felt your arousal soak through your panties as both men toyed at your thighs and hemline to your stomach. Simply no longer caring about professionalism and giving into their touch, you allowed them to push aside the material and undo your pants.

Breaking away from the kiss, Doflamingo’s hands brushed over your mound and down to toy at your glistening folds. A gasp was strangled in your throat as you attempted to stifle it. The heavy snores and breathing from the seats in front and beside you indicated you didn't disturb anyone of their slumber, but you didn't want to take the risk of being too loud.

Lowering himself down into your ear Doflamingo purred at you, “I am going to teach Sanji how to please you. I am going to have you cum on my fingers a few times before I let him try.” You gulped back a mouthful of nervous saliva as Sanji shot his attention between you both, “Is that okay with you, mi amor?” You couldn't pull your eyes away from the older man, nodding almost dumbly as if hypnotized by the promise of the pleasure to cum. Chuckling, Doflamingo presses a kiss to your jaw before licking a stripe up to your ear possessively.

“If you can't help yourself from moaning, I'll have Sanji stuff your mouth full of his fingers for you to suck on. Do you want them straight away, or do you want to wait?” He offered you Sanji’s hand raised to your lips, pressing the pads of his digits at your lips just as he sank his own further down to tease at your arousal. Whimpering, you immediately took Sanji’s fingertips in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them.

Sanji gasped, his own moans choking in his throat as he became caught up in the moment. Doflamingo shoots him a warning look, growling out a low order at him.

“And if you can't help but moan at the feeling,” Doflamingo gestured with his chin to your breasts, “Make your mouth useful and flick that silver tongue over her nipples. Let her feel that frenulum piercing you think your daddy hasn't noticed.” Sanji’s eyes went wide, the tension once again rising between them.

“I am not calling you daddy, le vieillard,” Sanji barked in a harsh whisper, prompting Doflamingo to chuckle as he began toying with the border and hood of your clit with his middle and unity fingers.

“I was referring to your biological father, niño. However,” he leans over your shoulder and scrunched his nose at the younger man playfully, “If the mood arises, I prefer ‘Papi’.” Tugging your body flush against his chest, hidden by the shroud of his cloak and broad shoulders, Doflamingo snaked his hand around your waist after drawing up the armrest between the seats.

Sanji pushed up your shirt, physically unable to contain the moan that flew from his lips the moment he noticed the ripple of your breasts bouncing free beneath the fabric. Immediately surging forward, Sanji latched onto your left nipple, swirling and mouthing at your puckered nipple and romancing it with his kisses. Doflamingo chuckled as you offered the same enthusiasm mirrored back to him.

Without further warning, Doflamingo prodded and pressed at your entrance with his fingers, curling and grinding them against your glistening arousal and collecting your slick over his fingers. Stifling your pretty mewls on Sanji’s fingers, Doflamingo curled his digits in you, using the pad of his thumb to roll against your clit as he began beckoning his hooked fingers slowly. Stimulating your clit and your g-spot with his hand, he leaned down to be in earshot of both you and Sanji.

“Look at you both. Both my sweet little ones are doing so well,” Doflamingo purred lightly, “Is mi reina sucking your fingers good, mi príncipe? Is she using her tongue like a good little reina, hm?” You bit back your moan, opening your mouth and demonstrating to Doflamingo how your tongue swirls and grinds against Sanji’s fingers. Sanji couldn't help himself, Stradling your thighs as you were tucked in Doflamingo's lap. Slowly rolling his hips against you, you felt how hard the young blonde was as he bucked his clothed cock into your thigh.

Chuckling, Doflamingo doubled down on his efforts to make you squirm. Holding you flush against his chest, he continued coaxing out soft mewls muffled by Sanji’s fingers in your mouth.

“Stop your petulant rocking, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo whispered his soft tease down at the younger blonde, “This was about pleasing her. You think she wants your precum soaking her pretty thighs through your pants? How's that pleasing her?” Sanji gasped, the cool intake of air causing your body to tremble at the harsh cold. Switching to the other breast, Sanji whimpers against you as he attempts his hardest to not rock his steely cock on your legs. His eyes dart down to where Doflamingo’s larger hands pry open your walls and scissor his fingers in your pussy with expert precision. Doflamingo leans down and nudges Sanji’s fingers away with his forehead before swallowing your moans with his lips covering your own.

Hastening the pace of his fingers and thumb, perfectly coaxing and beckoning your orgasm from you, your body explodes in the quickened lightning of your ecstacy. It felt almost out of the blue, unprompted but not at all unwelcome. The scream from your throat was captured and muffled by Doflamingo’s lips as he chuckled into your mouth. Unintentionally bucking your hips up into his hand, Sanji whimpered as your thigh brushed with his cock. The vibration of his moan shot through your nipple and down to pool more of your glistening arousal over Doflamingo’s palm.

“My, my. That was a big one, mi amor. Is there another? Another one for me?” he uttered against your lips, prompting you to shake your head hastily to not have him stimulate you further. He clicked his tongue in a curt ‘tsk,’ before removing his hand from your pussy. Your walls contracted in the final pulses of your bliss in a bid to keep his digits within you as he pulled out.

“Aw, but she wants more,” Doflamingo purred at you, referring to your cunt twitching and throbbing after coming down from your orgasm. Sanji couldn't help himself, he hastily pushed Doflamingo’s face away from yours with his chin before meeting his lips with your own. He greedily dominated your lips, his desperation coming out in soft pants and barely audible whispers.

“Please. Please, I need you. Please?” Sanji attempted to relay, not entirely certain as to what he was asking. All he knew is that he wanted it, and the ‘it’ in question was ‘you’. Peeling back the button of his pants, the rosy tip of his pretty flushed cock immediately sprung forth. You had never seen such a beautiful cock before: all shiny and throbbing with need, the pearls of precum coating the small slit over the blunt tip. The slender shaft had several veins prompting the swell in desire, your own immediately rising just by his need alone.

He did not set out a plan in motion to fuck you in front of Doflamingo, but he was too far gone to not clothe his cock in the heat of your cunt after witnessing how truly beautiful you looked while keening in bliss. Doflamingo moved to chastise the younger boy, only halting as he witnessed you push your pants over your hips and down to your knees. Rolling onto your stomach to face your enshrouded breasts to Doflamingo, you arched your back and whispered to Sanji.

“Let me sit in your lap like this, sweety?” you moved your ass to sit with your back facing Sanji’s chest. His cock found its home between your legs, the tip brushing with your clit as he rocked into your firmly shut thighs. Each soft drag of his cock prompted him to sign out little gasps of pleasure. Doflamingo arched his brow as he witnessed you huff on Sanji’s lap as a wave of fresh desire swelled within you. Displeasure and unamusement grew over his face the longer you paid attention to the younger blonde.

Turning back your attention to Doflamingo, you motioned with your arms for him to come closer to you. Doing as you asked you reached up and gripped the open collar of his shirt and tug him into you. Lips finding his once more, your tongue sought out his own to perform against it in a sultry dance. Grinding the muscle over his own, you lifted your hips and lined up your slit with Sanji's knob. Just as you were sinking yourself down onto him, you halted your motion and tore your lips away from Doflamingo's.

“Can I suck your cock?” you asked the larger man, “It'll keep me quiet, I promise. Please? I want to please you too. Let me, Mister Doflamingo?” Doflamingo could barely contain the shudder that ran through his spine. With the soft quiver of his jaw, he gulped emphatically before popping open the front of his leather pants.

“And how is that going to keep the one you're sitting on quiet? Or me, for that matter?” he asked you with his brow quirked up. You aided him in releasing his cock from the confines of his pants by fishing it out with your hands. Taking the velvety shaft into your hands, your eyes bulged as you witnessed the sheer size of him. He was a lot larger than you in both height, and the girth of his cock. You were ever grateful that you opted to fuck the younger man as opposed to the giant in front of you.

Circling your hand at the base and peeling back his foreskin, you whispered up at him, “You're smart, I'm sure you'll think of something.”

Doflamingo physically gasped the moment he felt your breath hover over his cock, briefly meeting his eyes over Sanji as you sank your pussy and your mouth over both of them in unison. Sanji’s gaze was focussed on your ass as it rippled in gentle rocks down onto his shaft, while Doflamingo focussed his eyes on Sanji while trying not to give away how truly unraveled he was becoming by your lips.

Pressing soft, kitten licks over his blushing tip, you cleaned away Doflamingo’s first dews of pearlescent precum before swirling your tongue over the sensitive surface. Doflamingo choked on a soft gasp, snapping out of his hypnosis to clap his hand over Sanji's lips as he bottomed out into your gummy walls. The younger blonde couldn't help but moan, the larger hand stifling the majority of it to silence him with a frown.

“Listen, Vinsmoke. I know she feels-... f-fuck…” Doflamingo started, halting as he felt you take more of him into your lips. “...Fuck, mi amor, you take me so well,” he whispered his praise down at you before turning back his attention to Sanji, “You need to keep quiet. Need I remind you, Trafalgar and Eustass are sleeping in front of you? You want to wake them up by whining like a stag in rutt?”

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Sanji snapped his eyes over at Doflamingo, glaring up at him through his lengthy blonde eyelashes. Instead of biting back or insulting the larger blonde, Sanji couldn't help but roll his eyes in his skull as you began to bob on his cock. Simply unable to control his moans, Doflamingo shook his head at Sanji before huffing out in agitation while plunging his middle and index fingers into the younger blonde's mouth.

An accusatory glare first flew from Sanji to Doflamingo before Sanji used the older man’s fingers as a gag to muffle his whimpers into it. Gently bobbing your ass up and down over Sanji’s lap, the Frenchman's hands grabbed needily at your hips and ass as he bucked up to match your quickened pace. With fistfuls of your ass clutched into his greedy hands, Sanji bounced you with eager and desperate thrusts as he began to chase his high with you on his lap.

Doflamingo arched his brow high at the young Vinsmoke boy, noticing how well he was licking and sucking around his fingers before his attention immediately snapped down to you. Circling your hand at the base of his cock, your fingers expertly began to massage his heavy balls while gently bobbing and sucking his large cock. Flattening your tongue over his frenulum, your saliva pooled from your lips and began to drip down onto his shaft and the chasm between his balls. Using the added lubrication, you kneaded and fisted at the length you couldn't take in your mouth, while drawing up your lips over his cock.

Meeting your eyes with Doflamingo's, you smiled at him while removing your mouth from his cock and using your tongue to rake over him. Doflamingo’s breath shuddered, his nipples hardening beneath the open shirt as he shielded as much of himself as he could from the slumbering Nico Robin and the flight attendants.

“Oh, fuck. Look at you making me blush. Just like that, senorita,” he reached down with his unoccupied hand and cradled and caressed your cheek. Guiding your lips back down to cover his tip and swallow his cock, he began slowly rocking his hips up to meet your pace.

Sanji's thrusts were getting erratic, his rapidly approaching orgasm bound it's way tightly in his stomach. He could barely take the amount of pleasure coursing through his veins. The added suspense of getting caught had his nerves shot and heart skittish, but the sound of your drooling cunt taking his cock so well drowned out any hindrances. He snapped his eyes open, looking panicked at Doflamingo as he felt his balls suck into his stomach, the pucker of his ass warning him that he was nearly past the point of pulling out.

Doflamingo arched his brow at the young man, slowly leaning down to you and whispering, “I think Sanji wants to cum, pretty thing. Can he cum in that beautiful pussy of yours?” Making eye contact with Doflamingo, you nodded while speeding up your bobbing and sucking over the larger man’s throbbing hardness. Giving you a soft wink, Doflamingo sighed out to Sanji.

“If you need to cum, cum, pequeño. But you make sure she does too, you hear me?” Doflamingo pressed his fingers down on Sanji’s tongue to serve as a soft punishment and warning, Sanji gagging over his fingers while chasing his high faster. Nodding, Sanji reached one of his hands down to find your clit and began teasing it with his middle finger. With the added hooking motion of Sanji’s beckoning fingers, you felt yourself whimper on Doflamingo’s cock as he zeroed in on your pleasure.

Gripping the back of your neck, Doflamingo began rocking himself more firmly into your mouth and feeling his own approach tease at the corner of his mind. Soft gasps fell from his lips when he felt you focus more on his cock rather than Sanji's, the blonde behind you using his hands to both lift you and tease at your clit while he fucked you on his lap.

A strangled groan muffled itself onto Doflamingo's hands while Sanji's ecstacy spurted from his cock in pretty ribbons of translucent white. Painting your insides the pearlescent color of his bliss, Sanji bit on Doflamingo’s hand to stifle more of his keening moans. Doflamingo hissed at the pain before his jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back and whispering curses in Spanish under his breath. Without warning, his cum spilled itself in hot waves over your tongue and down your throat. Swallowing through hollowed cheeks, you took his entire release down your throat, which caused Doflamingo to double down in softly singing to your praises.

At the arrival of both of the blonde men’s cum, your walls contracted and milked Sanji's cock of the final waves of his bliss. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave made to capsize a ship, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you buried your throat beneath the girth of Doflamingo’s cock to stifle your cries of pleasure. Doflamingo rode your face through overstimulation, grinding his fingers in and out of Sanji’s mouth while Sanji’s eyes weeped through the intensity of his ecstasy.

“G-Good, mi amor. So good, look at you. F-Fuck, just like that, senorita,” Doflamingo praised you beneath his breath. “F-Fuck, you're such a pretty fuck. So beautiful, baby.” You continued to ride through the waves of your orgasm as Sanji spat Doflamingo's fingers from his mouth to double over and slump over onto your back.

Tilting his head to the side and gazing from the corner of his eyes at the seat in front of him, a shift in movement caught his immediate attention. The rise and fall of an arm over their front, a soft bitten back moan clenched and stifled by the clamp of their teeth, the redheaded Eustass Kid couldn't help but spill his own orgasm into a pre-opened tissue in hot spurts at the knowledge of what was happening behind him.

Only glimpsing over for a moment, and seeing Doflamingo's hand dip beneath the waistband of your pants, was all Captain Kid needed to see before his own hand began to fish out his cock in front of the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Setting up a mirror to witness the situation behind him was easy enough, and rocking his hips to the rhythm you set fucking Sanji was enough to have his eyes darken and jaw shudder. Leaning forward after Kid scrunched up the paper, Doflamingo tapped at his shoulder to bring his attention around.

“Got any spare tissue paper, red head?” Eustass Kid froze in his seat, “I don't particularly want to wake the attendants, and it's the least you could do for enjoying the show.”

Imagine helping Crocodile discover a new way to use his devil fruit

Before the cross guild's morning meeting

You: [watching Crocodile repeatedly thumbing the spark wheel of his sputtering lighter, attempting to light up a cigar] I have a question.

Crocodile: [cocks an eyebrow over at you for your audacity, lips still stubbornly clasped around the cigar]

You: Using your sand, how fast can you get your sand particles to move?

Crocodile: [uses his hand to show you he can move them faster than your eye can see]

Mihawk: [stops reading the newspaper to look up at you]

Buggy, the one who invited you: [looking nervously between you and Crocodile]

You: can you do that while compressing the particles?

Crocodile: [shrugs]

Mihawk: [mildly suspicious of you] Why?

You: [looks between the three men, to realize you might have fucked up, so you start back-pedaling] Oh, no, uh, I just figured if he compressed his sand while trying to circulate it rapidly, the friction would create enough kinetic energy to produce heat that was hot enough to light his cigar. I wasn't, like, meaning to offend.

Crocodile: [lifts his finger in front of him and tries what you just said, and gets it to glow red with heat]

Buggy: UHH?

Mihawk: ( = _ =)?

Crocodile: [lifts his cigar to the glowing whirl of sand pulls off the cigar, and chuckles, swirling smoke escaping his nostrils] Oh this will bring so many more possibilities to me.

Buggy: great, nice going jackass, now he's even more powerful.

You: You probably could use it to cook someone.

Crocodile: excuse me?

Mihawk: shut up, little bird, stop giving him ideas.

Crocodile: [Cages you against the couch with his arms and leans in close] Keep talking, I want to know what fucked up thing is floating around in that little head of yours.

You: [pulls away from him and averts your gaze]

Crocodile: [uses his hook to pull your chin towards him to make you look at him] Look at me when I'm talking to you.

Mihawk: [sighs loudly and leans back in his chair] Leave them alone, Crocodile.

Crocodile: [ignores them] tell me

You: if you have enough sand to encase someone, you could cook them alive.

Buggy: That's kind of scary, kid.

Mihawk: [runs his hand over his face] What the fuck.

Crocodile: [laughs and ruffles your hair after he processes your words] I like this kid, good job Buggy for finding this one.

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3 birds 1 stone - masterlist

DICK GRAYSON X READER, JASON TODD X READER, TIM DRAKE X READER SERIES

AO3 | WORDS: 156,696 | STATUS: COMPLETE | CHAPTERS: 15 | BATARELLA MASTERLIST

Premise:

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers ‘till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

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Tour Mates (The Lost Boys X Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

(Hello, Hi, How ya goin. So I have been lurking in the Lost Boys fandom for over a year now and have been feral for these boys for far too long to not have an insane amount of ideas about them. So as if this movie didn't have a strong enough chokehold on me already, it led me to write my first ever fic. I have no idea if it's any good, but I hope someone out there at least enjoys the vision. This will be multiple chapters cause I can't shut up. Behold! Whatever this is!

P.S. I know Dwayne and his actor aren’t actually 6’7. But ya girl is 5’10 and may have a small size kink and this is my fic😤So let a girl live.)

Pairing: The Lost Boys x Fem!Reader (Poly Lost Boys implied)

Work count: 1208

Warnings: Darker Fic, misogyny, sexism, allusions to sex, allusions to murder, the boys being whores. Smut in future chapters.

Summary: You had always wanted nothing more than to be in a band and share your music with the world, and you were finally on your way to doing so. If only your band was big enough to do it alone.

You had always wanted to be a musician. Always. Ever since you could remember. From a child when you would sit and listen to whatever music your dad loved, making you guess titles and quiz you on the bands. From when you were a preteen and had the freedom to branch out to whole new styles of music you had never heard, buying records with what little money you could save. From when you got a guitar on your thirteenth birthday and played every moment you could after school and every chance on the weekends. From when you were fifteen and your friends made the choice to form a band. And from when you made the promise that very day that you would be the most legendary band in history.

While you were yet to be the most legendary band in history, for now, you were finally making moves. You were nowhere near Motely Crue, but you were getting somewhere. After years of writing, months upon months of being in studios, and all the savings you could muster. You finally had the money, the managers, and the following to go on tour. Your dream was coming true. If only there wasn’t one slight, incredibly frustrating, and immensely infuriating problem.

While you had the monetary ability to tour and quite the following, you weren’t quite big enough to tour on your OWN. Enter stage left the current bain of your existence—The Lost Boys. A Californian glam rock heavy metal band just starting to find their feet os so luckily at the same time as you. The band consisted of David the lead singer, a dominant man who truly embodied the idea of a frontman. Marko the bassist - the secondhand man to David as they had said themselves which had been proven multiple times with the way Marko seemed to wait on David hand and foot, never seeming to be too far behind him. Paul the lead guitarist, a wild chaotic lady’s man who always smelt of weed where it may be his erratic behavior took him. And last but DEFINITELY not least Dwayne. The drummer, an imposing 6’7 man who seemed to be made of muscle, with an intense gaze that could make anyone feel immense fear or simply melt depending on his mood.

At first, it had seemed perfect. They were nice, if not slightly flirty (aka clawing to get into your pants from the get go) and your bandmates got along brilliantly with them. You loved their music and it matched your sound really well. It was the ideal situation. That was until maybe a month into the tour. You could understand the excitement for a while, the booze, the drugs, the women, the partying. You’d be a hypocrite if you had blamed them for enjoying those things seeing as you had partaken in them yourself. But you thought that maybe after a little while that they would maybe calm down a bit. But they seemed pretty dead set on sticking to their band's slogan of sleeping all day and partying all night. Which you would respect if it wasn’t for the fact that it was impacting your ability to sleep at all, and in turn, your ability to play.

Now it was already hard being a woman in the rock industry, but being the only woman on an otherwise all-male tour? That came with a whole nother set of problems. You had been called every misogynistic name under the sun. Constantly told you couldn’t play, which your predicament was only adding fuel to the fire. Even more, you had your fair share of being told that the only reason that any of the boys kept you around on the tour, is so that they can have someone around as a backup to fuck on the nights they can't pull any groupies. A sleazy stand-in kept in reserve for desperate nights.

This is where the resentment began. You obviously didn’t care about anyone on tour sleeping around or bringing people back to the hotels, it came with the territory, and your boys did it pretty regularly. But the lost boys were seemingly insatiable. Bringing groups of fawning girls back to their (weirdly) shared hotel room every single night. Of course, this word spread and they inevitably got nothing but praise for their man whore behavior. As where you had been branded a slut for so much as picking up a guitar and being in a band. You had even only made out with one man on the entirety of the tour! The opportunity to go any further being ruined by the band in question themselves when they stumbled across you and refused to leave, glowering at the man till he took his hands off of you and left. A strange situation but nonetheless frustrating. The resentment only grew as the situation began to affect you in other ways than just your image and reputation.

When the boys would bring these girls back to their room it would always go the same. At some ridiculous hour of the morning you would hear the drunken love-struck giggles of the group of girls they had chosen for the night, followed by the strong voice of David beckoning them into the room, insisting for them to make themselves at home, to even shed a few layers to get comfortable, which would inevitably be followed by whooping and hollering from the other boys and then the music would start blaring. But no matter how loud they would blast the music you could always still hear the giggling, which would turn to moaning, which would turn to shrieking. You had to admit the first few nights, hell even to this day, it sometimes frightens you. Sometimes the screams just don’t seem as pleasurable as they should. Sometimes they are…almost blood-curdling. Like someone losing a fight for their life. But you know that’s just your imagination running wild, because just inevitably as the girls being there every night, the moaning would return. Always just the boys though, but you always imagined they had just fucked the girls out so much that they didn’t have the energy to make much noise.

These nightly occurrences would not bother you if it weren’t for the fact that while they were up and causing chaos, you were up and unable to sleep. Which for the first few weeks, was fine, but now nearing a month and a half of borderline sleepless nights due to the proclivities of your tour mates, you were starting to come undone. You didn’t have the luxury of sleeping all day, so naps in your dressing room were having to suffice and that would inevitably have an effect on your performance. You can't remember the last time you got through a show and didn’t mess up at least a segment or two from a few songs.

But after all of that what had been your final straw, was the boys being AWARE of the effects their actions had on you. They HAD to be from the way they had taunted you, teased you. The acts had become more frequent as the days went on. And ton your aggravation, harder to forget about.

Welcome to my master list :) This will hold all of my works from all of my fandoms

A/n: Any art that is made is made by me, so please be kind and do not take them. Images come from Pinterest, I do make them on Canva if anyone wonders.

Supernatural masterlist

Mavel masterlist

The lost boys (1987) Bad moon rising masterlist

Obx Masterlist

Stranger things Masterlist

One Piece live action Masterlist

Haikyuu! Masterlist

A/a/n: Please feel free to make requests from any of these fandoms. I try to write for as many characters as I can; romantic, platonic, etc. I also have many more fandoms, so if yall have any other fandoms yall would like me to write then by all means don’t be afraid to message me. Because I really need something to do in my spare time. ;)

Bad moon rising master list

A/n: This will be the main page link for this story, and I will try to upload each chapter as frequently as possible. Enjoy ;)

Chapter one

After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.

Chapter two

The first night in a new town is always weird but exhilarating, and thankfully the boardwalk is there to welcome you and your family. Though, even with all the bright lights and loud music that surrounds you, you some how attract the attention of four bikers.

Chapter three

It’s been a week since you’d last seen the lost boys, and the only thing that you really know about them is their names. But, the boys seem drawn to you in a way that no one can explain why. And after an incident on the beach, the boys are eager to help get payback for you.

“horror movies of the 1980s exist at the glorious watershed when special visual effects finally catch up with the gory imaginings of horror fans and movie makers. technical advances in special effects (animatronics, liquid and foam latex) meant the human frame could be distorted to grotesque new dimensions on screen. 1980s horror movies delivered the full colour close-up, look-no-strings-attached, special effect in a way that previous practitioners of the art could only dream about. everything lurking in the shadows in older horror movies was now dragged into the garish light of day. the monsters were finally out of the closet.”

The Lost Boys (1987) dir. Joel Schumacher

I think The Lost Boys speaks the most to the hurt people--the lonely teens, the people who feel unloved. That's how the Boys lured in Michael: he was lonely, desperate, and alienated.

The Lost Boys represent belonging to a group that will never ever leave you--a dream too good to be true.

And I think we all have a bit of Michael in us.