Shino With A Cicada Because Tis The Season

Shino with a cicada because tis the season
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More Posts from Imhidingfromschool
I should’ve never picked up JJK I should’ve watched those volleyball twinks instead nothing bad happens there
Megumi suffers in silence because he'd rather die than tell you how he feels about you.
But when he's alone, he touches himself with long, slow strokes– how he imagines he'd fuck you if the gods were to smile upon him and grant him one chance with you. He builds himself up, teetering on the edge of something grand; he thinks about the way your mouth would form around his name if you were beneath him, how your lips would feel on his neck when you tell him you're close. And just as he's about to topple over the edge, he stops. Takes a few deep breaths, lets the feeling of almost relief wash over him. He waits it out, waits for his cock to go half soft again, then resumes his pace. It isn't until he's edged himself a few times that he finally allows his body to do what it so desperately needs to do. He imagines the way his cum would look as it seeps through your fingers, or how you'd quiver if he were to reach his climax inside you.
He doesn't realize that you cry out his name in the darkness of your bedroom, fingers buried deep inside your cunt while you so desperately wish it was Megumi.
Thinking about Dazai sitting naked with his back to your chest, your legs over his thighs keeping them apart. One of your hands leisurely stroking his cock, the other around his throat, applying just enough pressure to get him excited about the possibility you might not be playing this time. Whispering praise or degradation into his ear, whichever he needs that day. His choked attempts at filling his lungs, the way his cock flushes such a deep dark red as he tries to force his orgasm, clenching every muscle he can to speed it along. The way his thighs tremble with urgency and pleasure, the way his stomach flinches as he squirts his load all over it, finally able to draw a full breath as you loosen the pressure. And his laughter, made husky and hoarse from the rawness in his throat as he tilts his head back in bliss and whispers "thank you."
hessobadhessobad

love his bandana + ways he can use it
Insomnia
Pairing: Zoro x Reader, platonic Strawhats & Reader
SFW
Summary: You find yourself unable to sleep, and all of your friends are determined to help. Unfortunately, nothing seems to work...until you find yourself in the lap of a certain swordsman. Warnings: Just Extreme Fluff! Word Count: ~3k Crossposted from Ao3
You were exhausted.
It had started slowly. You began to take a little longer to fall asleep and wake up just a touch earlier, spending days with your thoughts just a bit fuzzy around the edges, eyes a little unfocused in quieter moments, but nothing severe.
Then you started waking up in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep no matter how long you closed your eyes and laid there, praying for relief. You would instead wander around the ship, find ways to make yourself busy, making conversation with whoever was on night watch. You pretended not to notice the quiet concern on the crew’s faces when they all spoke and realized you had been awake to speak with each of them at 4am for the last week.
And now, you have given up on sleeping entirely, staring at the ceiling of your quarters with no sign of sleep’s embrace at all. No matter what you tried, it wouldn’t come. You can already see sunlight begin to shine under the door. Your friends are stirring, and you can already smell the breakfast Sanji’s making this morning. Another night of restlessness. You can barely force yourself out of your cot, but there isn’t a point in staying. It won’t help. You drag yourself to the deck, feet shuffling and face scowling.
“Still can’t sleep?” You don’t notice Usopp until he speaks, and you look up to see him up on the railing, fishing pole in hand, face flooded with pity and concern.
“No.” You try desperately to keep from snapping, knowing it isn’t his fault, isn’t anyone’s, but the best you can do is keep your voice flat and your words short. He winces a little at your tone, but he doesn’t comment. Instead he ponders you quietly, before seemingly coming to a decision.
“Do you want help?”
“Help how?”
“Help falling asleep! From the great Captain Usopp!” He puts on a silly wide and smug smile, but you can still see the worry in his eyes. He probably doesn’t even have any ideas yet, he just wants to help in any way he can.
“I would try almost anything at this point. What’re you thinking?”
He lets out a smug little laugh. “I knew you’d want my help! I don’t know if you know this, but I’m the greatest storyteller in all the seas.” He gives you a conspiratorial grin. “I bet you I can tell you a bedtime story that’ll send you to dreamland before you know it!”
You consider it. Usopp is an amazing storyteller, of course. You’ve never heard him tell a single tale that wouldn’t hook you enough to keep you awake, but maybe he’s just never tried. “Alright. I’ll come get you tonight—”
“Tonight? You’ll probably die by then! We’re gonna do this now, and you can sleep the entire day!” He grabs your hand, dragging you back to the bunks. You pass a few of your other friends on their way out, and while Zoro and Nami give you strange looks, they don’t comment. Just before the door closes, you see Sanji’s head pop out of the kitchen you call everyone in, and his eyes shift to you in confusion.
The door slams with a definitive sounding thunk, and Usopp’s hands push you onto your cot. He tucks you in with surprisingly practiced hands, before saying, “Alright. Get ready for the best sleep of your life!” He clears his throat dramatically. “Once upon a time, the great Captain Usopp—”
“—the end! …Nothing, huh? Not even for a second?” You flick open an eye to see disappointment on poor Usopp’s face. His tale had continued for at least an hour, with several dozen twists and turns as he tried to stretch it out until you finally started snoring, but you were as horribly, devastatingly awake as ever.
“Not even a wink. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, you're not the one who failed.” His shoulders slump a little. “I really thought that would work.”
You sit up to pat this hand comfortingly. “You didn’t fail, Usopp. I’m just…cursed. Probably. By God.” His stomach grumbles, and you suddenly remember he skipped breakfast to help you. “We should probably eat something.”
“Probably.” He looks so dejected it makes your chest ache a little.
“It’s okay, Usopp. Really.”
He doesn’t respond, getting up to head to the kitchen as you trail behind him. Everyone else has finished eating, half of the crew having already left, with only Sanji, Robin, and Nami chatting quietly over the table. There’s a plate set and ready, food growing cold, and you feel a flash of guilt knowing it was for you.
“Oh, my dear, you’re finally here! I was getting worried. I can fix you a new plate—here—” Sanji shoves the cold plate into Usopp’s hands. “I’ll throw something better together, just you wait!” Before you can even respond, he’s back to the kitchen, busying himself with making you something else.
“Are you alright? You look rather…” Robin trails off, clearly looking for and failing to find any words to describe your current state that wouldn’t be horribly offensive.
“Awful.” Nami finishes for her, firmly but not without pity. “Are you still having trouble sleeping?”
“Yeah. I haven’t slept in at least 48 hours.”
“Oh my god.” Nami’s mouth hangs open a little, having not realized the full scope of your issues. Her face is painted with concern. “Are you…alright?”
“Not really.”
“You still can’t sleep?” Sanji calls out in concern over his shoulder, his knife still chopping away. “Do you want me to make you some tea? It might help.”
“Is it chamomile? I’ve tried that already.”
“It has chamomile in it, but that isn’t the only part. Valerian root, passionflower, and a couple extra things. I can’t guarantee it’ll fix your problem but it might help. I made it for Franky once and he fell asleep right at the table.” There’s no small measure of pride in his voice at that.
“I’m open to anything, at this point. Would you make me a cup?”
“Of course, dear!” His voice gets soft and honeyed the way it always does when he speaks to you, and after a new plate is placed in front of you he rushes off to the pantry to find the ingredients he needs.
Robin looks over you consideringly. “If that doesn’t work, why don’t you try reading? I always find winding down with a book helps.”
“Maybe. Usopp told me a story and it didn’t end up working, but reading it myself could be different.”
Nami taps her chin with her fingers, pondering. “Do you want to use aromatherapy, too? I have some lavender we could spray on your pillow. That might help too.”
“We can throw whatever spaghetti at the wall you want, I just want something to stick. I’m not picky.”
And with that the girls were off to grab their chosen items, while Usopp silently scarfed down cold eggs and tried to bandage his wounded pride. Sanji is humming a song you don’t recognize as the kettle whistles, and he expertly prepares your cup of tea. He’s sneaking glances over at you, probably lost in a daydream where he saves you from your horrible insomnia and you fall madly in love with him in return. Honestly? If he manages, you might. Any hero that saves you from this is worth considering.
As soon as the mug of tea is placed in your hands, Sanji’s fingers seemingly deliberately brushing against yours, you’re ushered back to your cot, where Nami, Robin, Brook, and Franky are waiting. You have no idea when this turned into a group activity, but sure. Why not?
“I thought some soothing music might help. A lullaby, maybe?” Brook’s voice is soothing and soft, like he’s already trying to lull you to sleep.
“And I brought a white noise machine as a backup! Thought you might like it.” Franky’s voice is as gentle as his natural boom can be.
Your eyes flick between them, then back to Nami, who’s unnaturally focused on fluffing your pillows and adding extra blankets to your cot, making it look the most inviting it ever has. “Are you gonna charge me for those?”
“No! …Probably not.” Her grin is mischievous.
“Honestly, if you get me to sleep, I’ll pay whatever you—”
“Woah! Don’t make any promises you can’t keep. She’ll keep you to that.” Franky’s voice is filled with brotherly concern. “Nami, don’t pay attention to that. Anyone that tired has no idea what they’re saying.”
“I wouldn’t actually take payment for this! I’m not a monster.” Her last punch to your pillow has a bit of extra force behind it, her irritation clear.
Before they can continue bantering, Brook begins playing a tune on his violin, bringing the rest of you to silence. Your hands are wrapped around your warm mug of tea, a book chosen by Robin open in front of you while you sip. The smell of lavender is strong enough to have flooded the room. Franky clicks a button on his little machine and the sounds of spring rain washes over all of you. Your shoulders relax, a soft smile slipping onto your face, but your eyes are no closer to closing. Even when Sanji comes in to take your mug away, the warmth long faded, or when Brook’s finger bones grow tired and his song comes to an end, or when the snores of your friends start to fill the room, you do not sleep. You feel no closer than you were an hour ago when this started, no closer than you were this morning when Usopp had tucked you in. You honestly feel like you’ll never sleep again.
It isn’t until noon that you finally give up, having finished half of the book that Robin lent to you. The smell of lavender had started to fade an hour ago. You carefully step over Franky and Brook passed out on the floor, your eyes wandering over to Nami and Robin sleeping peacefully on vacant cots. You try to be glad this worked for somebody, but you can’t help a bitter sort of jealousy brewing in your chest. Why do they get relief when they aren’t even suffering? Why is it only you who has to feel this weight dragging you down?
You try to stalk past Luffy, pouting all the while, but your captain catches you by the wrist with a rubbery hand. “Are you okay?”
You huff. “I’m never going to sleep again.”
“That sucks.”
You blink at him blankly.
He blinks back.
“I’m just having trouble sleeping. Not, like, literally.”
“Oh.”
“It sucks.”
“Yeah.” He hums, pressing his lips together in thought. You can practically see the lightbulb above his head when he has his idea, his eyes brightening and smile widening. “Oh, I’ve got it!” He pulls you along with him, dragging you quickly further onto the deck before you’re unceremoniously shoved forward, stumbling over your legs and landing on something firm and warm.
“Bwuh?” Your eyes flick up to see Zoro bathed in sunlight, his good eye just barely open, a yawn forcing his mouth open wide. “What’s goin’ on?”
“You’re good at sleeping!” He gives a wide grin. “Help ‘em!” And without elaborating he just…runs off to do god knows what, satisfied that he has somehow solved the problem.
Zoro’s eye focuses on you questioningly, but before you can explain, you suddenly become intensely aware of your position. You’re in his lap, face pressed into his thighs, your chest pressed into his lower legs. You both stare at each other, wide-eyed, unsure on what to say or how to say it.
“You comfortable down there?” His voice is even, but he’s betrayed by the hint of pink on his cheeks.
“I—um. I’m…fine.” You wince at the shake in your voice. You can feel heat spreading from the tips of your ears down to your neck, and you hope it isn’t as noticeable as it feels. The smirk on his face shows it probably is.
“Oh yeah?” He gives a quiet laugh. “You’re welcome to stay.” Despite his own embarrassment, he radiates smugness. That’s Zoro for you—ever the strategist, he finds whatever upper hand he can get and uses it to corner his opponent. He’s looking at you like a cat does a mouse, and you really do feel like prey. You instinctively go to hide your face from him, only to find your nose brushing against his thigh. He chuckles. “Oh, getting cozy, that’s good. I guess you’re in for the long haul.”
You flush even further, and with your voice muffled against his leg, you manage to protest. “I’m having a bad enough time without you bullying me, Zoro.”
“This isn’t bullying. C’mon, I’ve seen how you fight, you’re tougher than that. You normally don’t back down that easily.” His hand ruffles your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “What’s got you so down?”
You whine quietly. “I haven’t slept in days, and I haven’t slept well in weeks. I feel like I’m dying.”
His energy immediately changes, eyes and smile softening into something more genuine. “Doesn’t sound fun. And Luffy thought I could help you with that?”
“I guess.”
“What have you tried?”
“Everything. Counting sheep, bedtime stories, warm drinks, lavender—”
“Bedtime stories?” His voice is teetering on teasing again.
“Usopp’s idea.”
“What, did he tuck you in too?”
You go quiet.
“Wait, really?” He sounds well and truly baffled.
“It was actually kind of nice,” you mumble.
If you didn’t know better you would think Zoro was pouting. His eye is a bit narrowed, his mouth in a flat line, bottom lip slightly jutted out. “Oh yeah? Well it didn’t work, did it? So you had to come to me for help.”
His hands grab your shoulders, pulling you up so you’re sitting instead of laying on his lap, your face directly pressed into his chest. You can hear his heartbeat below it, not exactly rapid but certainly betraying him, letting you know this situation is affecting him just like it’s affecting you. His arms wrap around you, and when he speaks, you can feel the rumble of his voice radiate through his chest and into you. “And now you’re gonna sit here with me, you’re gonna fall asleep before you know it, and the rest of those fools will have to accept that only I could give you what you need.” He pulls you impossibly closer, snugly tucking you into him and leaning back to pull you down to the deck with him.
“Someone’s a little jealous, huh?”
He scoffs. “Why would I be? Who’re you laying on right now, huh?” His hand grips your hip as if proving a point. “Go to sleep already, you need it.”
“What, you think this is all it takes? Cuddling?” Even as you say it, you break into a yawn, and your eyes begin to droop. His presence is comforting, and between his body heat and the gentle warmth of the sunlight, you can feel yourself beginning to fade. Your vision is too blurry to see his cocky grin, but you know it’s there all the same.
“Yeah, I do. Now get some rest.” You barely hear his response over the calming sound of his heartbeat. Your breathing slows, and before you know it, you’re sleeping for the first time in what feels like years.
After you’ve fallen asleep, he takes his time to observe you. The way your hair shines in the sunlight, the way your mouth parts slightly when you snore, the way your body feels so natural and right against his. His hand rubs a soothing circle into your back while you rest, and you make a soft noise of contentment that he can’t help but smile at. You look so beautiful like this, so small and soft and fragile. Something to care for. Something to protect. It feels right to have you in his arms, right against him, where he can keep you safe.
He wonders if you’d be willing to do this all the time, though he’d rather die than ask. He has his pride. Maybe you’ll come to him, wide eyed and wanting, next time you struggle to fall asleep. Maybe you’ll ask in that shy little voice if he’d be willing to help you, in the way only he can, and all he’ll have to do is open his arms for you to fall into. Maybe he’ll have more days and nights like these, with the comforting weight of another in his bed. What an idea.
He wonders what you might give him in thanks. One of those breathtaking smiles, surely. A hug, perhaps. It wouldn’t be more than this, pressed together, but the idea of you initiating it, of it being a deliberate choice on your part, makes his heart beat a little faster. He imagines you throwing your arms around him of your own volition, no captain shoving you forward. He imagines those arms moving around his neck instead, pulling him closer so you can press your lips onto his. He imagines how soft they’d be, and how desperate you would be to feel his own. He imagines you wanting him in a dozen different ways, each unique, each better than the last. He imagines calling you his, and you calling him yours in return.
He falls asleep to the idea of a shared life, a shared bed, a shared heart. When the crew finally stumbles out of their naps, they find the two of you on deck, intertwined, a tangle of limbs that seems all but impossible to separate. You’re both snoring softly, smiles on your faces, and they can’t bear to wake you. You seem like you’re having very sweet dreams.