#chain? drabble? how to tag...

[chibinasuu]

Unexpectedly | Law x Reader

★ requested by @supernatural-hunter1

Summary: You and Law never expected to fall in love with each other. Tags: sfw, strawhat!reader, takes place from sabaody to end of wano told through drabbles, GN but written with F!reader in mind, no use of y/n

Law never believed in love at first sight.

Hell, he never expected to fall in love with anyone at all, much less a rival pirate he never even talked to.

But the moment he got a glimpse of you outside that Auction House at the Sabaody Archipelago, for the first time in his life, he felt his heart somersaulting in his chest. 

That somewhat crazy glint in your eyes as you gracefully fought your way through the throng of Marines… Well, Law nearly took a bullet to the chest, the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Law convinced himself that it couldn't have been love.

Attraction, sure, but certainly not love.

And then you disappeared without a trace. For two years. 

He tried not to think much about you.

You were nobody to him, after all.

Law focused all of his time on his goal.

He became a Warlord of the Sea, and his grand scheme was finally in motion.

You were completely out of his mind by then, but suddenly, out of nowhere, fate brought you together again. 

There you were, standing beside your Captain in your cute stolen winter coat, peering at Law disapprovingly as he extended his alliance proposition.

“I don’t trust you,” were the first words you gave him, a finger pointed accusingly in his direction.

Definitely not love, Law thought as annoyance started to rise within his chest.

“Believe me, I don’t trust you, either.” Law had scoffed in reply.

He would be a fool to immediately put his trust in you, no matter how kind and gentle you appeared to be towards your crewmates. It pissed him off to no end that he was the only one you were being hostile with. You weren't even that unfriendly toward the G-5 Marines!

Law tried to return your hostility with the same fervor, and outwardly, he seemed to have succeeded.

He would never admit that his heart still skipped a beat when you stared him down as if his Warlord title meant nothing, all the while threatening to end his life if he so much as betrayed your Captain. 

It wasn’t until the Battle of Dressrosa that you started to see Law in a different light.

His tenacity and determination moved you, and you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you curious to know more about him. 

As you sleeplessly laid—packed together with your crew and allies in Kyros’ little house on the hill—you reminded yourself that this alliance was only temporary, and there was always a chance that Law would betray the Straw Hats.

He got what he wanted all along—Doflamingo toppled and in chains. What would prevent him from just turning around on his promise to work together to defeat Kaido? 

Soft groans sounded from somewhere on your right.

In the dark night, with everyone deep in slumber, it was hard for you to identify who they belonged to, until someone suddenly jerked upright, clearly woken up from a nightmare.

Law.

His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breath, a hand wiping beads of sweat from his forehead.

Before you could stop yourself, and against better judgment, you whispered, “Are you alright?”

The word “yes” almost flew out of his mouth—the standard response. But somehow, he found himself unable to lie to you. 

“No.” He ended up choking out. 

The room was silent for a few moments before your voice rang out, firmly, but softly.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

Law knew your words were mostly customary—the standard response. But his heart felt more at ease anyway.

“Are you alright?”

It was Law’s turn to ask when he found you in the woods on the outskirts of the Guardians’ residential district in Zou. 

You immediately wiped your eyes with the back of your hands, a bit embarrassed at getting caught crying. 

You smiled humorlessly up at him, “No.”

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

You chuckled at the way Law parroted your words from back at Dressrosa.

“Straw Hat-ya is going to get him back.”

“Oh, I know.” You said, accompanied by a more genuine smile this time, “I don’t doubt him one bit.”

Law raised his eyebrows, silently asking, why are you sobbing alone in the woods then?

“It’s just…” You sighed, “I can’t imagine what Sanji’s going through right now. What burden he must’ve been carrying this whole time.”

Law padded towards you hesitantly, like approaching a wounded animal.

You patted the ground next to you. 

He took you up on the offer and sat down, leaving a respectable distance between you.

“He’s going to be okay.” 

You didn’t know what came over you, but you leaned your head on his shoulder, finding comfort in this man you barely knew anything about, “I know.”

For a hunk of metal engulfed miles beneath the ocean’s surface, the Polar Tang felt surprisingly warm and homey. 

It had only been a few days into your journey to Wano, but you already found yourself attached to the Heart Pirates’ library. Well, it was mostly Law’s library, to be fair. 

There was no point in worrying anymore about what was going on at Whole Cake Island. There was nobody you trusted more than Luffy and your crewmates. They would get Sanji back, you were sure of it.

Now, the only thing you could do was focus on your next moves and ensure the plan to defeat Kaido was already set by the time they met up with your side at Wano in a few weeks.

As might be expected, planning for war was not what you would call fun. Everybody was exhausted, tense, and anxious about what was coming.

The library became your refuge in the evenings, a hideout after the days that were filled with meetings, and meetings, and more meetings.

You were perusing one of Law’s medical books when a voice interrupted you, “You’re interested in learning medicine?”

The Captain and Doctor of the Heart Pirates was leaning against the door, arms folded in front of his chest.

You gave him a small smile, “I’m interested in learning. Period.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his feet unsurely stepping forward, then back, before he finally decided to fully come into the room, pink blush adorning his cheeks.

“I can teach you more, if you like.”

“I’d love that.”

It wasn’t long until the library rendezvous became your solace, something to look forward to at the end of every day. 

It wasn’t long until the conversations about complicated medical procedures turned into subtle flirting.

It wasn’t long until the “accidental” touches—of your fingers as you passed a book back and forth, of your knees beneath the table—became more purposeful.

It wasn’t long until you started trading whispered stories late into the night, learning things about each other that no other people knew—the dim library a comforting haven for the unlikely pair.

“Don’t forget the fact that you doubted the loyalty of my crew.” Law coldly told Shinobu, “If we can’t trust each other in moments like this… then I can’t expect to entrust my safety to you when the fighting is fierce!”

The room was quiet as Law stormed outside, no doubt immediately heading towards the Flower Capital, where his crewmates had allegedly been detained as prisoners.

You hurried out after him, catching his arm before he could run off even further, “You know it’s a trap, right?”

Desperation dripped from his voice as he replied, “What else can I do? I can’t just leave them to be tortured by Orochi’s men.”

You knew you would've done the same if you were in his position—if it were your crewmates who had been captured. It would've been hypocritical of you to try and stop him.

You slid your hand down to grasp his, “Be careful.” 

He nodded.

He squeezed once, then you let him go.

When Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi eventually returned without him, it felt like someone had ripped your heart out and broken it into one thousand pieces.

On the day of the Fire Festival, you couldn't stop the tears of relief that ran down your face when you caught sight of that familiar yellow submarine in the distance, its Captain safe and sound, standing proudly on its hull.

It felt like a boulder had been lifted from your chest, the tightness in your heart replaced by a ferocious pounding.

The knot in your stomach loosened, and in its place, butterflies ran amok.

And there was no denying it anymore.

You had, unexpectedly, completely and unequivocally fallen in love with Trafalgar Law.

Cheers echoed throughout the Skull Dome as Luffy's victory against Kaido was confirmed.

Chopper was bandaging your arm, the skin ripped to shreds by Ulti's claws, but you could hardly feel the pain anymore.

Luffy won. Every single member of your crew was safe.

Yet, you couldn't fully relax. Not yet.

Your eyes darted across the open floor, praying for a glimpse of a fluffy spotted hat, or a blue feathered cape, or a bright yellow shirt. Anything.

You bolted from your seat the second Chopper finished tending to your injuries.

You needed to find him. You needed to see with your own eyes that he was alive.

Moving through the masses of samurai and pirates, your heart clenched tighter each second that you could not see him.

And then, among the crowd of thousands, you heard him.

Your name, shouted out with a joyous lilt that you had never heard from that deep, familiar voice.

The heat of the moment, the thrill you felt when your eyes finally found his, the exceedingly fast rhythm of your heart when you saw the huge smile on his face.

You didn't think twice as you ran over, flung your arms around his neck, and crashed your lips against his.

Law's surprise lasted but a second before he kissed you back fervently, his arms pulling you impossibly close to his body.

The gasps of the onlookers did not reach your ears—it was as if you and he were trapped in your own little bubble, oblivious to whatever was happening outside.

“People will talk, you know.” He managed to let out between kisses.

“Let them. I don't care.” You answered, feeling his smirk as you captured his lips again.

The Heart Pirates had started giggling and whispering among themselves, some even running off to find your crewmates to spread the gossip, but you and Law were too far gone to notice.

Law's steady hands moved to cup your cheeks, and you let him angle your face so he could kiss you deeper, his tongue seeking yours desperately.

Even Bepo's awkward cough wasn't enough to tear you apart, prompting the mink to tap Law's shoulder hesitantly instead to gain his attention.

Without breaking the kiss, the Captain swatted the fluffy hand away in annoyance, but Bepo was insistent.

"Excuse me!" He shouted, the sheer volume of his voice finally bringing some sense back into you.

You instantly jumped away from Law in surprise, face burning in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I really didn't want to interrupt but..." He pointed to your arm, where the fresh bandage was already soaked with red, "I just think you shouldn't… agitate the wound too much. Sorry!"

As Law redressed your wounds, you couldn't help but stare at his face, then shifted your eyes up and down his body, taking inventory of the injuries he sustained after facing off two Emperors.

"You're okay." You finally declared, letting out a relieved breath.

"We're okay." He said as he tightened the knot of your bandage, before taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Dawn never looked as beautiful as it did in Wano.

You sat with Law on top of the hill just outside the Flower Capital, watching as the first sparks of sunlight peeked out from the horizon, streaking the purplish sky with tinges of orange and yellow.

The beats of the drums and the bright melodies of the flutes and the strings continued to flow in the distance, in harmony with the cheers and laughter of the freed people of Wano.

The celebration had been going on for seven days and seven nights now, but there were no signs of it stopping just yet.

Come morning, the Straw Hat Pirates, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates would all go separate ways, each taking a different route from the log pose.

You and Law both knew each other well enough to know that he wouldn't ask you to join his crew and that you wouldn't say yes even if he did.

Yamato had kindly made Vivre Cards for the two of you. A piece of his now belonged to you, and yours to him. That would have to be enough for now.

Although, you did have one more thing you wanted to give him.

You reached into your pocket and pulled something out. Taking Law's hand, you placed the small item on his open palm.

Law stared at the golden coin, one side engraved with a picture of a town, and the other with the name of your birth island.

You had shown it to him, at one of your library sessions, when he admitted to you that he collected coins from the various islands he visited.

Law also remembered you saying that this was the only memento you had left of your hometown. 

“I can’t—”

“Take it.” You closed his fist over it, dramatically proclaiming, “To remember me by."

Law scoffed, "It's not as if we're just never going to meet again."

"Yeah, but who knows when that'll be." You bumped your shoulder against his teasingly, "It might even be after Luffy becomes King of the Pirates." 

“Don’t be so sure.” He smirked, “I could still become the Pirate King, you know?”

You barked out a laugh, giving him a pat on the cheek, “Keep dreaming, honey.”

Law twirled the coin around between his fingers, his smile dropping into a slight frown.

“I’m going to miss you.”

The words were so softly spoken that you almost missed them.

You hugged his arm that was closest to you, snuggling into his side, “Me too.”

You felt his lips on your forehead before his head moved to rest against yours.

Fingers intertwined, you both watched as the sun crept higher and higher into the sky.

Yes, in a mere few hours, you would go your separate ways. But there was no doubt in your mind, and heart, that you would surely meet again, someday.

You knew it as sure as the ocean was blue and the grass was green.

Your story was nowhere near its end. 

a/n: guess who started writing a new law fic before finishing the part 2 of her existing one? 🙋🏻‍♀️ i can't help it, this request was too tempting. i feel like this fic is a little bit different from my usual writing style, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! <3 (i am now going to pretend law didn't get his ass beat not even a week after they parted ways shhhh that didn't happen in this timeline)

↳ masterlist

[nhmkhnh]

drabble || dom!vi x sub!fem!reader

tags: nsfw (minors & men dni) ;; frat girl!vi ;; fingering (r.receiving) ;; dirty talk.

you shouldn’t have worn that dress.

that’s the first thing vi says to you—not hi, not you made it, not want a drink, baby? just that. her voice low, thick, already toeing the line between a tease and a threat. you hadn’t even made it past the doorframe of the frat house before she was grabbing your wrist and dragging you upstairs, beer still in her other hand like she couldn’t be bothered to let it go.

now she’s got you cornered in her room, door slammed, lock clicked, and the bass of the party downstairs thudding through the walls while she towers over you in that backwards cap and muscle tee combo that makes your knees weak. her breath smells like whiskey. her hand still hasn’t let go of your wrist.

“you wore that to my party?” she repeats, eyes raking down your body like they have a fucking problem with you.

you open your mouth to answer, but vi’s already crowding you against the dresser, pressing in close enough for the chain around her neck to brush your collarbone. “nah, don’t talk,” she murmurs, free hand sliding up the hem of your dress. “you know exactly what you’re doing.”

her fingers are rough from boxing, calloused from gym hours, and they slip between your thighs like she owns the place—like she owns you. you gasp, grip tightening on the edge of the dresser behind you, and vi just grins.

“yeah,” she breathes, mouth brushing your ear. “that’s what i thought.”

you whimper.

“walking around downstairs like some sweet little innocent? can’t even bend over without showing everyone how fucking wet you are,” she growls, fingers pushing your panties aside. “you think i didn’t see the way that guy looked at you? you think i didn’t catch you giggling with those sorority girls?”

you shake your head. she doesn’t care.

“uh-uh,” she tsks, pushing two fingers into you so suddenly you nearly cry out. “don’t lie to me, baby.”

your hips jerk forward, legs trembling. vi’s other hand grabs your jaw, tilting your face up so you’re forced to look at her. her eyes are wild with want, possessive and sharp, like she’s five seconds away from fucking you through the nearest wall just to prove you’re hers.

“let me make something real clear,” she says, fingers curling deep inside you while her thumb strokes firm little circles. “you don’t wear shit like this unless you want me to lose it.”

you nod frantically. “i—i didn’t mean—”

she cuts you off with a kiss that’s more bite than anything. her teeth graze your bottom lip, her tongue slides in hot and demanding, and you melt for her instantly, whining against her mouth.

vi pulls back, lips slick, gaze darker now. “i’ll be nice once. let you come on my fingers like a good girl. but after that?”

you moan when her fingers speed up.

“after that, i’m gonna bend you over my desk and fuck you with my strap until you can’t walk straight back into that party. you want that?”

you’re already nodding before she finishes the sentence.

“that’s my girl.”

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝓇𝓊𝓀𝒶 𝓈𝓅ℯ𝒶𝓀𝓈 : This is all about Mydei and his dark desires for you! What will the God of War conjure up next in his series? Why don’t we take a peek? :>

―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝒮𝓎𝓃ℴ𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ：Mydei is the god of war, feared by everyone for his insane strength and genius strategy. He’s got this fiery temper and never backs down, making him the perfect leader, always commanding armies with cold precision. But underneath all that intensity, there’s a guy who holds on to a strong sense of honor. He’s constantly battling with the weight of his power and the vulnerabilities it brings. He’s all about destruction and victory, pushing through one fight after another, but he’s still carrying the heavy burden of being a god.

―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 ：This series focuses on Mydei and his role as a gift of war. Each plot will explore different aspects of his journey and experiences. It will include : fem!reader & male!reader. ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

―୨୧⋆ ˚𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ ：if you want to be tagged in any of these fics comment or reblog & tell me which fic/fics/drabbles u wanna be tagged! THIS SERIES IF ONHOLD OR MIGHT BE DISCONTINUED IN THE FUTURE.

001. DESPERATE TO SAVE ?! [NSFW & FEM!READER]

When the plague ravaged your village, you sought out Mydei, the god of storms. He promised you to save your people, but only if you have s*x with him and become his wife. With no other option, you agreed.

[ TW : DUBCON ， LOSS OF VIRGINITY ! ]

002. RUINED BY WAR ?! [NSFW & FEM!READER]

In a world divided between war and peace, you, the Goddess of Peace, find yourself drawn to the one being who defies everything you stand for—Mydei, the ruthless God of War. His touch is rough, his presence overwhelming, and yet, when you're in his grasp, resistance crumbles like ruins beneath a battlefield. He should be your greatest enemy, but in the dark, when his hands claim you. And as he takes you, possessive, unrelenting, you realize that even peace was meant to surrender.

[ TW : IMPLIED DUBCON ，SIZE KINK ， PERV!MYDEI ! ]

003. FALLING FOR WAR ?! [NSFW & MALE!READER]

You are nothing but a mortal warrior—fragile, fleeting, and yet, you have defied the God of War himself. Mydei has crushed entire civilizations under his heel, yet no matter how many times he cuts you down, you rise again, bloodied but unbroken. He should end you, make an example of your defiance, but instead, he finds himself enthralled. Your stubbornness is infuriating, your resilience intoxicating. So, he decides to break you in a different way, to make you surrender, not to war, but to him. And when he finally has you beneath him, trembling and breathless, you realize that even the strongest warriors can fall.

[ TW : SIZE KINK ， MANHANDLING，ROUGH!MYDEI ! ]

00.4 UNTAMED CHAOS ! [NSFW & MALE!READER]

You are the God of Chaos, a force of unpredictability and destruction with no allegiance, no strategy—only the thrill of war itself. Where Mydei fights with purpose, you revel in disorder, turning his carefully laid plans into a storm of madness. He should despise you, and yet, he keeps chasing you, drawn to the way you slip through his grasp like smoke. But when he finally catches you—pinning you beneath him, his fury burning through every touch—you realize that even chaos can be tamed… if only for a moment.

[ TW : DUBCON ，C*M PLAY ， DACRYPHILIA ! ]

00.5 F*CKED BY A GOD ?! [NSFW & FEM!READER]

Your kingdom lies in ruins, its warriors slain, its banners burned to ash. And at the heart of it all stands Mydei—the merciless God of War, your conqueror. He should have discarded you like the rest, but instead, he keeps you close, a captive queen in golden chains. You refuse to break, refuse to bow, meeting his cold fury with your own unyielding fire. If you will not kneel to him in the throne room, then you will in his bed—his hands rough, his touch demanding, his desire a war of its own. And in the heat of his embrace, you begin to wonder… did you truly lose, or did he?

[ TW : SIZE KINK ， BREEDING KINK ，SPANKING ! ]

00.6 BLOOD AND HONEY [NSFW & FEM!READER]

Mydei, the God of War, has never known softness—until you, the Goddess of Love, dare to challenge him. When words turn to something rougher, he fucks you like he fights: intense, merciless, and all-consuming. Love has no place in war, but with you beneath him, he might just reconsider.

[ TW : ROUGH S*X ， SIZE KINK ，MARKING ! ]

(𝓃)𝓈𝒻𝓌 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁ℯ𝓈 : [ all gn!reader ]

SFW : How god of war Mydei takes care of you when you are sick.

SFW : How the both of you got married.

NSFW : Mydei’s favourite sex position.

SFW : The god of war doesn’t like sweet treats.

[…]

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉𝓈 : [ all must be gn!reader ]

NSFW : belly dancer!reader

NSFW : jealousy.

[…]

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[ghoulishhx]

✦ toys - frank castle x reader

18+ MDNI!!!

My Masterlist

──── ୨୧ ────

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

Warnings/tags: this is a SMUTFEST. mutual masturbation, slight voyeurism? idk, dildo and vibrator use, kinda rough frank, choking, praise (use of good girl and other phrases of the sort), dirty talk, squirting, mutual pining

Summary: your boyfriend frank finally moves in, and while he unpacks he stumbles upon your little collection

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: this is a short little drabble that was floating around my mind today (i havent slept in 48hrs i hope it's good) suggestions are open!!

mwah enjoy <3

Your boyfriend Frank moved in 2 weeks ago and everything has been going so perfectly, co-existing with him under the same roof came so easily you ask yourself why it took so long to ask him. 

Today is a special day, one more box to unpack until he is officially 100% moved in. Only one box to go, and that is his sentimental keepsakes. Pictures of him and Maria, preserved daisy chains made by Lisa, Frank Jr.’s toy army men etc. You allow him to sort this box out alone, not wanting to intrude on such a personal moment for him. You relax on the sofa, aimlessly searching for a movie to watch and that's when you hear him from the bedroom.

“Oh shit, doll. What have ya got goin’ on in here hmm?”

Confused, you cross the living room to meet him in your bedroom, your eyes widening when you realise which drawer he's referring to.. the one where you keep all your toys. 

Your face instantly flushes red with blush, feeling embarrassed about the situation. You look to Frank to meet his gaze, you notice an unfamiliar look in his eye. A mix between playfulness and lust.

He whistles, “Got a whole damn adult store in here sweetheart… didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”

You blush even more at his dirty words, picking up a pillow and striking him with it.

“Cut it out! I had to keep myself busy someway before I met you.. And when you’re out at work all day.” you mumble the final part, hoping he didn’t hear it. Spoiler alert, he did. He raises an eyebrow at you, doing his famous cocky side smirk.

“Aww my poor needy girl can’t wait 12 hours to get fucked, mean old Frankie leaving you alone for so long..” he says walking towards you, pushing the hair from your face and lifting your chin to meet his eyes. You avert his gaze, making eye contact with anything in the room but him.

He taps your cheek, sucking your attention back to him.

“I’m talking to ya doll, don’ go all shy on me now.. Hmmm..” He sighs appreciatively as his hands roam across your body, landing on the flesh of your ass, eliciting a whine out of you. He moves his mouth to your ear, his warm breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. “You wanna know what I’m thinkin’ baby?”

“What are you thinking Frankie?” you whisper back.

“I wanna watch you stuff your pretty pussy with your toys angel.”

You gasp at the lewdness of his voice and words, taking you off guard but also sending jolts of arousal straight to your heat, soaking your panties in an instant.

“Can you do that for me sweetheart? Put on a little show for me?” He leans down and catches you in a kiss, shoving his tongue in your mouth to meet your own. “Be a good girl and show me how you get yourself off, yeah?” his lips move to your neck, making you moan and chant curses under your breath like a prayer.

“Anything for you, Frank.”

“That’s my good girl.” He smacks your ass as he steps away from you, watching intently as you strip your clothes, shimmying out of your floral milkmaid dress revealing your white bra and matching thong. The sight has his eyes popping out of his head, as he moves his hand down to roughly palm his bulge in his jeans, already rock-hard.

“You sure you won’t get jealous, baby?” You mischievously smirk as you climb onto the bed, spreading your legs, revealing your soaked panties, Frank groans revelling in the sight before him as he gets comfortable sitting in front of you on the edge of the bed.

“Watch your tone princess, or you won’t get to cum at all.” He slaps your pussy, accentuating his seriousness. You wince at the sensation, it only adds more fuel to the fire that is your arousal. “Fuck baby, you’re fuckin’ soaked”

You lift your hips, and slowly peel your drenched thong from your folds, holding intense eye contact with your boyfriend the entire time. His breath hitches when your sex is fully revealed to him as he unbuckles his belt, letting his jeans pool on the floor.

You’re absolutely eating up how he’s looking at you as he begins stroking his thick cock, with this confidence boost he’s giving you, you put your middle and ring finger in your mouth. Lubricating them by swirling your tongue around the digits, you pull them out with an enthusiastic ‘pop’. You trail your hand down to your aching pussy and begin playing with your engorged clit. Frank moans at the view, staring you down as he touches himself with you. Collecting your slick from your weeping cunt, you push your fingers inside of you, making you hiss at the stretch. With a free hand, you reach over to your pile of toys, grabbing a bright purple dildo. You put the toy in your mouth, sucking down the length while moaning Frank’s name. If he wasn’t enthralled by you before, he is now. Stroking his cock to match the pace in which you suck the toy while fucking yourself with your fingers, Frank’s jaw goes slack as he is hypnotised by your movements.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous baby, just like that. Good fucking girl. Make yerself feel good for me baby, you’ve earned it.”

You take the dildo out of your mouth, and trail it down your stomach leaving a trail of your spit, making your front glisten from the liquid. You finally reach your entrance, and slowly push the toy in all while holding eye-contact with your boyfriend. You whine as you fill yourself completely, beginning slow and consistent thrusts in and out of your cunt.

“F-Frankie.. It feels so good..” You whine, grabbing one of your pebbled nipples through your bra, releasing the flesh of your breasts from the confines. 

“Mmm..” He hums appreciatively, “I want you to imagine its my cock instead, stretching you out. Filling you up so good, fuck.. You always take my cock so perfect. That pussy is mine, all mine sweetheart.” His head falls back but his eyes do not leave you even for a second. Even blinking right now is hell for him, the thought of not seeing you come undone like this makes him want to tape his eyelids open.

“Baby I don’t wanna imagine anymore, please.. I need you. I need your cock inside me instead.” You moan, increasing the pace of which you’re thrusting the toy in and out of your weeping hole.

“You’ll get it baby, trust me. I just need to see ya a little more, ok sugar?” He moves positions now, pulling you towards him as he situates himself behind you, he couldn’t stand not being able to touch you before so he had to give himself some easy access to help you feel good. You instantly fold in his arms, reaching behind his head with a free arm pulling him to the crook of your neck, he instantly starts licking and sucking on the skin there, driving you crazy as he nibbles on your sweet spot.

He reaches over to the pile of toys, all that’s left is a vibrator and butt plug. He smirks, picking up the former and switching the device on. You whine, hearing the vibrations, knowing what's coming.

“Hold this to your clit f’ me doll, be a good girl f’ me yeah?” You nod in his arms, taking your hand from behind his head and grabbing the little pink device. You tremble as you place it onto your bundle of nerves, the pleasure elevated by 100 instantly. You begin to wriggle and writhe, but he holds you firm between his legs in a bruising grip on your hips. You hope it leaves a mark, you love the feeling of waking up the next day to the purples and yellows on your skin from when Frank’s a bit rougher. He’s marking his territory.

“That’sss it doll, that feel good princess?” He asks, moving his hands to harshly grasp your tits, kneading the soft dough and twisting your nipples, all while sucking hickeys into your neck. 

“I’m so close Frankie f-fuck..” your pace becomes to falter as you’re desperate to dive head first into ecstasy. He pauses his assault on your tits becoming aware of your situation. Without thinking, he removes your hand from the base of the dildo and begins fucking you with it himself.

The sounds coming out of your mouth are borderline pornographic, and Frank almost cums from hearing these noises alone. His punishing pace of which he thrusts the toy into you makes you cum almost instantly, still holding the vibrator in one hand the other resumes it’s previous position around his neck, pulling him into the crook of your neck. You coat both the toys, and Frank’s hand, with your juices, as you scream his name.

“That’s my good fucking girl. Let it alllll out f’ me. I love this fucking messy pussy.” He looks down at the dildo and he notices a ring of your cream at the base and you feel his cock twitch against your back, leaking even more pre-cum that he already was. Your arousal returns after your powerful orgasm in record time, feeling him rut into your lower back.

“Need you Frankie.. Please”

“God you know how much I love it when you beg for me. My desperate girl, c’mere.” He flips you over, allowing you to straddle him. You lift your hips, running his cock through your slick folds, collecting lubricant as you know his thick cock will definitely be a stretch compared to the dildo. 

You begin to slip yourself down his length, biting your lip at the sensation. His eyes roll to the back of his head as you situate yourself fully on his cock. You begin to rock your hips back and forth. Grinding down on him as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He grabs your hips, guiding them through your shared pleasure, rubbing comforting circles on your back as he breaks the kiss to put one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling on it like a man starved. 

Looking up at you pleasuring yourself on his cock, he wraps a hand around your neck, holding you in place as he slams his hips into yours. The sound of skin on skin and the squelch of your pussy is like music to his ears, a private concerto performed just for him.

His pace begins to falter, as do yours. You’re both close.

A few thrusts later, he’s spilling his seed deep inside you, almost whimpering at the sensation as your walls contract and pulse around his member. You’re milking each other dry, both incoherent moaning messes as the mutual pleasure washes over you like a tidal wave.

Catching your breath, you pull Frank into one more seering kiss, before climbing from his lap to go to the bathroom and clean yourself up (no UTI today!)

Frank watches you tentatively as your naked form leaves his view, he calls out to you, smirking

“What took ya so long to introduce me to your little friends?”

a/n pt2: i had to use this gif from sharp stick rather than the punisher series because jon looks so gorgeous here i hope you can understand

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ the weight of want (정윤호 ♡ j.yh)

your boyfriend, your dominant. your pearl necklace that says yes, and your glass of water refilled again, and again.

style: bullet drabble pairing: non idol!yunho x fem!reader word count: 3k tags/warnings: smut, pwp, daddy kink, implied ddlg but no regression, omorashi / piss kink, hard dom yunho, mega sub reader, water control, bladder control / piss denial, feeding (light, mentioned, not in a kink specific way), belly play / belly kink, bloat / bloat kink, belly pressing/bladder pressing and teasing, degradation, embarrassment, multiple orgasms, wetting, overstimulation, and then aftercare. petnames are heavy in this -- daddy for yunho, and baby / babygirl / sweet girl / little one etc. notes: well.... this one was a request, and i've never written something like this before so i figured let's try it. i did some research and figured out what some people who are into this kink actually like, and i get it. when centered on degredation and control it all kind of clicked, and this is what came out. it's definitely feral and definitely out of my normal comfort zone, but it was fun to write and i think it's pretty hot. i hope you enjoy if you like this kind of thing!! [masterlist]

It starts in the softest way, Yunho letting you sleep in, then waking you with gentle kisses and warm hands under the duvet.

He’s been restless lately, something itching under the surface, and without a word you slip the familiar necklace around your throat. The circular ring and pearl drop charm is cool against your skin, but the meaning is laden with heat: yes.

The necklace is more than that, it’s a sign of something even deeper. Not just yes, but please. It’s not passive, even though the simple chain may seem so as it hangs around your neck, it’s a silent plea. 

He starts off attentively in that slow, deliberate way that always makes you ache — a boyfriend first, a dom second, but somehow always both at once.

“Water, baby.” He says it without looking, tapping the side of your bottle while he scrolls through the café menu on his phone. “Don’t make me ask again.”

You sip, legs pressed tightly together under the table, and your thighs clench when he mouths a simple “good girl” over the rim of his coffee cup.

He feeds you bites of cake with his fingers. Wipes your lips with his thumb and doesn’t pull it away when you flick your tongue over the pad of it, just to see how he’ll react.

“You’re pushing it,” he warns, but he just smiles and presses your knee under the table until you go still.

In the bookstore, you keep glancing at him, flushed and needy 

He keeps your water topped up. Presses a hand to your back every time you fidget.

You feel the first true throb of your bladder while you’re browsing the skin care aisle of the next store, but you keep quiet. 

Every time you shift your weight or bite your lip or make a little sound under your breath, you catch him watching you - eyes dark, hand curled possessively around yours.

And god, you want him. Want his hands and his mouth all over you. Want to be held and teased and ruined in that way only he knows how.

The ache in your lower belly has bloomed into something unbearable and hot. The pressure, the fullness - it’s not just about your body anymore.

You’re desperate, yes, but it’s desperation for him, for relief, to be good, all of it swirling in your gut.

When his lips brush your ear on the train ride home, it takes everything in you not to whimper. His words set your mind alight - “So full, aren’t you, sweetheart? You’ve been drinking everything I give you. Haven’t asked once. Such a good girl. Can’t wait to see how much you can hold.”

You’re wet. Embarrassingly wet. You press your legs together and nod, eyes fluttering. You want this. You want it all.

And when you’re home - 

You slip out of your shoes the second you’re through the door and make a quiet beeline toward the bathroom, heartbeat in your throat — but he’s already there, catching your wrist with a slow smile.

“Ah, ah,” Yunho says softly, tilting his head. “Where are you going, little one?”

“I, I just,” you start, but the words die on your tongue. You know the rules. You’re wearing the necklace. 

Yunho steps closer, eyes trailing down the curve of your neck to the necklace, brushing his knuckles over the pearl, giving it a soft tug, a little reminder of what it means as chain contracts briefly around your throat.

“You said you were mine today,” he says, a little firmer now. “Did you forget?”

Your cheeks burn. “No, Daddy.”

“No?” he murmurs, voice dropping an octave. “Then come here.”

In the bedroom everything shifts.

Gone is the bright daylight softness — now it’s all low light and warm hands and the sweet edge of tension slicing through your chest.

He draws the curtains and lays you down gently, tucking the blanket over your legs like he’s not about to ruin you.

“Rest time,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. “You did so good for me today. Let me take care of you now.”

You nod, voice barely there. The pressure in your belly has tipped into dangerous territory — but you trust him. You always trust him.

He gives you choices, but they’re all the same, all just different paths in a choose your own adventure that lead you to the same destination. 

He knows it, and so do you. 

So when he asks if you want to watch a movie or if you want him to read to you, you shrug, tucking yourself into his chest. 

You pick movie. 

“Good choice,” he says, turning on something you’ve both seen before. It’s comforting, background noise at best. The focus here isn’t the screen. It’s you.

You last maybe fifteen minutes before you start fidgeting, just a restless shift of your hips as you try to get comfortable, to take the pressure off. 

He notices immediately, he always does. 

“Pretty girl,” He murmurs quietly, his hand sliding beneath the blanket to rest over your stomach, “you keep squirming,” 

“Sorry,” You breathe. 

He kisses your hair softly, “It’s alright, you just seem wound up today,” 

He says everything like he has no idea what the reason could be, as if he didn’t feed you bottle of bottle after water for the past few hours with the exact intention of putting you right here. 

“Y-Yunho,” You squeeze your eyes shut tight as you feel the insistent tug to use the restroom. 

He clears his throat gently. 

“Daddy,” You correct yourself, embarrassed heat in your cheeks, “I really, I need to go,” 

He’s quiet for a moment, and then his palm smooths a gentle path over your belly, “I know,” 

“Please,” You manage it. 

“You’ve been holding it all day,” He kisses your hair, “you’re doing so well,” 

You let out a tight breath, and his hand shifts, slow circles against your belly. His touch is light but unrelenting, and then he squeezes, just a little, to remind you of the pressure. 

You whimper, fingers curling into the sheets. 

“So full,” He praises, his voice warm, velvety soft, “I can feel how tight you are. Does it hurt?” 

“Yes,” You nod, your breath shaky, “hurts,” 

Yunho presses a kiss to your shoulder, nuzzling you here as he exhales, “Color?” 

“S-still green,” You assure him. 

Your body is screaming at you to get up, to relieve yourself and then come back to bed, but every press of his hand, every touch of his lips, the way he’s pleased with you. It keeps you right here. 

“Please,” You whimper, not sure what you’re begging for. 

A soft groan escapes him, his hand smoothing up and down once before but it travels up to cup your breast through your shirt, finding your nipples hard and straining against the fabric, “Oh,” he nods, “that’s my girl. So needy and obedient.” 

“Ah,” You twitch as his thumb flicks over the hardened bud. 

His hand trails down again, skimming over your stomach softly before pushing between your thighs, fingers searching, finding the soaked fabric of your underwear that reveals more about your own desires than you’ve ever said out loud. 

“Sweetheart,” He groans, cupping the heat of your cunt fully with his hand, palm pressed against your clit, “you’re so wet, so messy. You really do like this, don’t you?” 

He knows you do. You’ve done this enough times for him to know exactly what parts of this kink you like, what parts you love, and what parts make your body sing. 

But he loves to hear you say it. 

“Yes,” Your voice is thready, breathless, and your hips rock on their own to chase some kind of sensation, “god, yes,” 

“Eyes on the screen, babygirl,” Yunho shifts you in his arms so that you’re pressed flush against him, back to chest, one hand between your thighs while the other wraps around you and holds you in place. 

You gasp at the sensation, the pang in your gut as he shifts you. 

“Daddy’s going to let you come a little,” He promises, “just be good, baby,” 

“Yes,” You nod, going slack in his arms. 

His touch is precise, teasing and controlled, soft enough to torment you but just firm enough that you think you can get there. 

His fingers circle steady on your clit, just a steady rhythm of pleasure that he knows will take you to the edge. 

You can’t stop moaning, writhing in his arms and gripping down on his forearm, dizzy with it all - the ache in your belly, the pressure, the heat building under his hands. 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, trailing wet kisses along your neck, “so good, babygirl,” 

“Please,” You shiver, hips bucking into his fingers, “please,” 

“Let go, sweetheart,” He croons, “come on Daddy’s fingers, baby, I know you can do it,” 

Your nails dig into his arm, pleasure blooming hot and fast. 

“There you go,” He nods, “there’s my girl,” 

Your orgasm washes over you with a cry, your body shuddering and trembling in his hands. 

“Hold it,” He instructs, hands soft on your hips, “hold it, baby,” 

Your body wants to get rid of this pressure, the ache in your cunt unbearable, but you nod into the sheets, whimpers on your lips. 

You’re spent, and you think for a moment this will end with just another orgasm, this time a full release just like he wants, but it doesn’t. 

Yunho lifts the blanket away and reaches for your water, “Come on, babygirl, we’re not done.” 

“Daddy,” Your mind feels like it’s going soft, into that sunken delicious place you don’t always get to. 

Yunho passes you the glass and strips the bed around you, leaving you bare in the center of the special sheets he bought just for this. 

With quick fingers he peels your panties away. 

“Daddy, I can’t,” 

“You can,” He nods, tossing the damp garments aside, “and you will. Drink, babygirl.”

With shaking fingers you raise the glass, and he watches you with sharp eyes as you take a sip. Your stomach seizes, too full really to take more, but you drink anyways. 

“Good girl,” He nods, “Finish up, almost done,” 

Tears gather in your eyes, but you tip the glass back, taking faster gulps to try and get it over with. Water spills out from the sides, snaking down your chin, your chest, but you finish with a gasp. 

“Very good,” He discards the glass, and then reaches for your face, thumb brushing away the stray droplets, “you’re doing so well today, baby, I’m so proud of you.” 

You melt, mind sinking more. 

Yunho slides between your open legs and directs you to settle onto your back, before sliding a stiff pillow under your hips so that you're open and on display for him, your bloated belly round and distended in a pretty curve. 

He groans, two warm palms sliding down over the taut skin, “You’re so full baby,” he murmurs, almost reverently, “look at you,” 

You shiver. 

He presses his palms down with gentle pressure, and you gasp, back arching, as the fullness throbs under his touch. 

“Sweetheart,” He pushes your shirt up higher until it properly pools under your breasts, “color, please,” 

You blink at him, eyes watery, but you nod, “Green,” 

His eyes darken with heat, but you see the tug of a smile on his lips, and that’s all you need. He’s proud of you, he’s pleased with you, and you whimper. 

He settles between your legs like he owns the space, like he owns you. 

“Fuck, sweet girl,” He breathes, hands skating over your skin, so swollen, and so sensitive, and all of this for me,” 

You whine, nodding, staring up at him as his eyes rake over your body. 

With precise touch, he cups your belly again, pressing into the tight distended curve with one hand, pressure building as he pushes. 

“You held it in all day, didn’t you?” 

“Y-yes,” Your voice cracks with a whimper, painful pressure lighting up your abdomen, “yes, sir,” 

“Good girl,” He praises, “aren’t you?” 

“I’m trying,” You pant, his hands pushing a little more. 

“I know,” He soothes, pressure lifting as he moves his hands, “I know you are, baby.” 

“I want to be good for you,” You breathe. 

“Such a perfect, obedient little slut,” He smiles, fingertips dragging over your thighs. 

You moan at the word, your hips twitching up, slick wetness pooling under you as your pussy aches, pulses, the wet spot on the pillow growing as you shift and whine. 

“You love this,” He says, his voice full of awe, “don’t you? All desperate, full and fucked-out and needy,” 

“Yes, yes, Daddy,” Your cunt clenches around nothing. 

“You want to let go?” He murmurs softly. 

Your eyes flutter shut, “More than anything.” 

Yunho presses one palm flat against your slick cunt, the pressure here sudden and firm, while his other hand traces a slow possessive line over your stomach.

You jerk, moaning and gripping the sheet. 

“It’s going to be messy, baby,” He circles his hand, bringing a sudden flash of pleasure, “you know that, right?” 

“Yes,” You pant, “I don’t care, I just, I need,” 

“Not yet,” He stops you in your babbling tracks, “I want to feel you come again, I want your pretty pussy clenching around my fingers while you try to hold it in. Show me how good you can be, baby. Show me how special you are,” 

He doesn’t give you a second to respond, to even digest his words, all at once his fingers push inside you - slow, deep, curled just right, and your whole body jolts in response. 

“God, oh god,” Your eyes roll. 

“So tight,” He groans, “so full it’s making your pussy throb, isn’t it?” 

You moan, incoherent. 

“Tell me,” He instructs, thumb sliding over your clit, “say it.” 

“Y-yes,” You nod, eyes glassy with tears, “I’m so full, so wet, t-throbbing for you, it’s all for you,” 

“Messy girl,” He sighs, pleased, and then his fingers start to pulse. 

You gasp, arching in the bed, scrambling. 

Yunho isn’t wasting a second, his fingers are curled perfectly to hook against your g-spot, and that combined with the unbearable ache starts to melt. 

“I can’t,” You cry out, tears real this time, “I can’t, I’m go-gonna,” 

“You can,” His hand presses down over your belly, fingers never slowing, “you are doing so well,” 

“Daddy!” Your nails dig into your palms

“You’re going to give me that perfect fucking orgasm,” He pants, “and then you’ll beg me to let you go right here, to piss right here like the filthy girl you are. Aren’t you?” 

Pleasure rockets through your brain, “Oh, please, D-Daddy,” 

“Aren’t you?” He groans, “Say it,” 

You cry out, your orgasm coming fast, “I’m f-filthy,” you whine, “I’m s-so fucking filthy for you Daddy,” 

“Come,” The command comes fast, “come, baby, now, now.” 

You come hard, back arching, cunt clenching on his fingers as you body cracks open, pressure and pain and pleasure all mixing together in your body in ways you couldn’t explain if you tried. 

“Good girl, fuck,” He stammers as he looses a little of his own composure, but then his hands press down over your belly fast and firm, “let go, come on, sweetheart, let go,” 

You cry out, unable to stop yourself this time even if he wanted you to at the way he’s touching you. 

This release hits different, hitting hard on top of your still rolling orgasm, hot and fast, and your cheeks heat as you let go, warmth pooling under you as you sob. 

“Fuck,” Yunho breathes, eyes locked on your body, “that’s it baby, that’s my girl, let it go, let it all out,” 

You can’t stop, all you can do is shake through it. 

But Yunho doesn’t move away, doesn’t flinch. He holds you through it, his hands shifting from your belly to your hips, his body next to yours now, lips against your forehead. 

One of his hands slides lower to cup your sex, and the other presses once again on your belly, gentler this time, guiding every pulse and contraction as your body empties, the feeling wet and messy, but freeing. 

“So good,” He soothes, “so good, babygirl, there you go. Such a beautiful fucking mess for me,” 

“Can’t stop,” You sob once more, overwhelmed. 

“You don’t have to,” He soothes, all traces of meanness gone in his tone, “you’re safe right here, I’ve got you baby, let it out,” 

You sink into his touch, and when it’s done, you collapse into his side, limp and wrecked. 

Softly, Yunho kisses the crown of your head, and gathers you in his arms.

He’s proud of you, that he lets you know that first. His words are soft, tender on your temple as he soothes you. 

The bed is warm and messy under you, but he wipes you down with reverence and lifts you with ease, moving straight into the shower while you’re still coming down. 

He settles you onto the little seat in the shower that you use for moments exactly like this, and gets the warm water flowing. 

Kissing you soft - “You were so beautiful, every second,”

While the water warms he massages your arms, your hands, brings you out of your stupor slowly with gentle questions, grounding words. 

Finally, you surface, responding to his questions with longer and longer phrases, breathing into the warmth of the steam as he washes your hair. 

“Where’s your head now, love? Feeling alright?” He asks gently, quietly. 

And you tell him the truth. That you feel loved, safe, held by him, the only person who’s ever seen you truly at your most vulnerable and most open. The only man who’s ever made you feel safe enough to try. 

After the shower he wraps you in a fluffy robe, setting you onto a comfortable chair in the corner of your bedroom with a book, and methodically he cleans. 

He strips the bed, the top layer mattress protector, your clothes and his. 

He takes care of it all like he always does, finishing with fresh bedding, a lit candle, and a warm cup of tea for you to sink into. 

You let him dress you, hold you. 

Quietly he kisses the clasp of your collar before he removes it and sets it in its jewelry box where it will wait, ready for another day. 

[goyangenero]

fic recommendations 1

(nct, ateez, txt, svt)

(18+)

i will update this list/ create more as I continue to read. if there’s a fic you think I should add/check out lmk.

NCT

mark

sunday sinner (ft. haechan) by @smileysuh (church boy! mark) haechan and y/n are fwb, and mark gets a boner in church. I read this religiously. This genre of mark makes my atheist soul go brr

hi(gh) roomie! by @hazyhae (stoner!roommate!mark) is mark still high, or did he really just hear that from y/n’s room? time to investigate!

renjun

renjun learns so fast... (bsf! renjun) by @nebularsung it's all in the title y'all. he's just so smart.

chenle

2:27 pm by @ant-onie (bsf!chenle) y/n is there and chenle is eating dessert

ATEEZ

jongho

chained (2) by @sunshineyuyu (jealous! jongho, mentions of previous yunho and y/n encounter found here) jongho is jealous of yunho and y/n found out what in the bathroom?

san

apt for two by @i-like-loserz (sub! san) just big, beautiful, pathetic drunk! san making y/n watch his fan cams

obsessed by @hwallazia (virgin! san) the cat that’s eager to please

wooyoung

right here (2) by @0097linersb (bsf! to lovers) wooyoung helping y/n in the most platonic way possible with his his nose.

mingi

just for show…right by @hwaretic (fake dating! to lovers) y/n thinks his acting is good and mingi’s just living his fantasy

fwb! mingi by @minkieater mingi does what y/n's ex couldnt

first by @anylady-fics y/n asks mingi for help and mingi is more than willing.

yunho

sweat by @minkieater y/n's natural desire to consume yunho is enhanced by his sweat.

TXT

gyu

the drabble (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) by @delugyu gyus slow decent into madness after inexperienced! y/n asks him for help on how to please taehyun

cold, cursed city (part 1) (part 2) by @delugyu desperate bsf! gyu clinging onto y/n. why would she need anyone else when he's right here?

SVT

wonwoo

heaven knows (ft. mingyu) by @straylightdream (roommates! to lovers) mingyu has nightmares, wonwoo and y/n are there to comfort him

no face by @smileysuh (faceless camboy! wonwoo) cheol gets the frat into making OF content and wonwoo has a lot of fans, including y/n.

wicked games (ft. mingyu) ongoing series by @hannieween wonwoo and mingyu love y/n, and y/n cries a lot. i'm emotionally torn bc i don't know how it's gonna end.

also: if anyone has woozi fics plz comment them. I wanted to tag hannieehaee fics, but they deactivated 🥲

[seiwas]

grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso

wc: 1.0k

summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems. 

contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.

a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!

You have a regular on the weekends. 

Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season. 

But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—

The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer. 

You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head. 

There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—

—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything. 

The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you. 

You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers. 

“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose. 

It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you. 

The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath. 

He continues to stare, unmoving. 

Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward. 

A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first. 

“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store. 

The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils. 

His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?” 

It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking. 

“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.” 

He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion. 

“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper. 

Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best. 

“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.” 

You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch. 

Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves. 

You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.” 

He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be. 

“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.” 

You most certainly were not expecting that, either. 

This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.

You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.” 

It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little. 

When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again. 

“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye. 

“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.” 

Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet. 

“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils. 

“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.” 

And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—

“What’s the occasion?”—

Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season. 

—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly. 

The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.

“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.” 

The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out. 

He furrows his brows, confused. 

You definitely, most certainly did not expect this. 

“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.” 

thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[shares-a-vest]

"Tag! You're It!" (STWG Daily Drabble Prompt)

Everyone is wreaking havoc, running around Steve's house playing the most chaotic game of Tag possible.

Steve rounds the corner into the downstairs hall, sure he hears the jingle-jangling of Eddie's wallet chain or belt or whatever – the guy is just so noisy, so loud, so everything.

He is suspects Eddie is headed for the garage, even though Steve was adamant that it was out of limits, mostly because he doesn't want the kids climbing all over his car.

But he is quickly yanked into the laundry, a strong arm around his waist.

He yelps as Eddie whispers a low, drawling, "Tag – you're it, sweetheart," and the door clicks shut.

"Not sure that's how the game works," he smirks as Eddie crowds him against the door.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

WOLF BOY

when ao3 goes down, we write tumblr fic (edited version now on ao3 HERE lol)

i used the 15/11/24 @sterekdrabbles challenge for this. the prompt words were GREEN, REACH and SCATTER. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as it's around 1K words and therefore definitely a drabble gone long lol.

it's a spark!stiles slash derek whump sort of affair, just so you know what you're reading xp

.

The dagger is almost within his reach—so very nearly grabbable.

Other than being eight years old in a hospital room with the smell of rotting flowers clinging to the back of his throat, Stiles doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more than this.

Again, Derek hacks out, “Just run, Stiles!”

Again, Stiles answers no—only this time, it's not with his voice but a yellow-green vine of pure light that extends from his fingertips as he pleads with each beat of his heart for the universe to help him, the tendrils stretching, stretching, then victoriously winding themselves around the handle of the blade. 

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, now with his actual voice, and then the vine of his will is pulling the knife flush into his grip. 

He looks up at the hunter, their face a billboard of surprise, before a shriek rips itself from her belly at the very same time Derek roars from where he's tethered and bound, the wolfsbane-laced chains melting further into his flesh as he tries in vain to once again break free.

Then the evil bastard is flinging herself at Stiles—and straight into the dagger aimed at her solar plexus that his light sends sailing across the cave, plunging it deep into her breast.

It might not be bullseye, but it does the trick.

As she drops to the dusty ground like a discarded ragdoll, the other two hunters' heads snap like whiplash to where Stiles is sprawled, a look of pure terror marring their faces.

The cowardly fuckers drop their weapons and scatter, leaving Stiles and Derek alone—other than the dead woman at their feet—in the large cave they'd dragged Derek into a few hours ago.

Derek's wrung out, and beaten down, but alive. 

At once, Stiles scrambles to his feet to get over to where the ʼwolf is chained up, almost falling back down again when his probably sprained ankle gives way beneath him. 

“Stop fucking hurting yourself,” Derek hisses, and for once in Stiles's insane life he wishes he could gnash his teeth and roar in response, and it have an effect that would be anything other than ridiculous. 

“Oh my god,” he protests instead. “I've just saved your offensively pretty ass with my new spark's apparently awesome Gio-Ju-ju, a-hole, so how ʼbout we be a little less sourwolf and a lot more gratefulwolf to ol’Stilesy boy here, hmm?” he sasses, finding the key to the padlock that's bolted to Derek's chains on the flat rock where his flashlight got dropped when confiscated by one of the hunters. 

Stiles feels petulant, and justified in that petulance as he discards the now unlocked padlock. Then he feels a little wrong-footed when Derek quietly mumbles, “Thank you,” because the guy sounds both in a considerable amount of pain and genuinely grateful to Stiles.

Stiles sighs and kneels down to start prizing the chains away from Derek's red-raw, still-smoking skin, the ʼwolf's forever-stoic face giving away nothing of the hurt he's obviously suffering at the cruel hands of the aconite still desperately trying to seep its way into his body.

“You don't have to do that for me, you know,” Stiles says carefully, hinting at Derek's display of endurance.

Derek's eyes flicker from mid-space to Stiles's face, and Stiles suddenly notices that their heads are actually dizzyingly close.

He swallows, and the sound of it echoes around the cave as if mocking him. 

The second he peels away the last link in the chain attached to Derek's skin, and before Derek can push him away, Stiles brings a hand to Derek's throat to feel for his pulse. 

When determined fingers find it, Derek's face does a thing that Stiles hasn't seen it do before; it's this combination of incredulous and vulnerable, and is so unprecedented, and so beautiful, that Stiles sort of wants to cry about it. 

“You can hear mine,” he superfluously reminds Derek, before saying what he really wants to. “It's not fair I don't get to know—that you're alive, I mean. Like, I know I can see it but… The tactile reassurance? That's, uh, you know, kind of nice, too.” 

Man, he spends way too much time with werewolves. 

Then, when he licks at his dry lips and Derek's pulse quickens under his fingertips, Stiles is so much more than simply placated.

Taking a steadying breath, he feels a million trillion miles away from anything even remotely resembling steady.

He studies Derek's face some more for confirmation of his suspicion, and finds something akin to bashful swimming amid the swirls of those gorgeous seafoam eyes.

Derek likes him back?

Stiles sinks his teeth into his bottom lip; Derek's pulse starts to race. 

Amazingly, it seems Stiles isn't alone in the want he feels deep in his gut, and as it grows and spreads to his extremities, his fingers and toes now tingling with it, he reckons he's maybe beaten-up and bleeding out and half-braindead enough to have the balls to actually do something about it. 

It must be biological, he thinks as he licks at his lips again, that his body somehow knows exactly what to do to hopefully get Derek to do exactly what Stiles wants him to—lick Stiles' lips for him, that is—without him making an actual fully-formed decision on the matter.

Although as soon as he's thinking that, the decision to kiss Derek is unequivocally made—even if it's going to get him shoved into the dirt for trying. 

He's about to lean in when one of Derek's already beginning-to-heal hands stops him by bracing his shoulder. 

“I can smell your pain, Stiles,” he says. “Let me help.”

Stiles tries not to smile as he lies through his teeth. “Hurts here, the most,” he murmurs, touching two fingers from the hand not at Derek's pulse to his bruised, bloody lips. He then curls the other hand further around the werewolf's neck, to hold on.

Derek starts to pant, and Stiles has to hold in a whine.

The werewolf sounds absolutely wrecked when he asks, “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me by wrapping your hand around my throat?”

Stiles's smile then brakes free and is wry as his wit as he answers, “I've been working hard to find out how to woo you for months now, big guy. What do you think?”

And when Derek lunges to crush Stiles's mouth with his own, teasing Stiles' lips apart with his hot, hot tongue and nipping at them with blunted canines, Stiles reckons he knows what it must feel like to howl. 

.

edited version now on ao3 HERE if you'd like to drop me a comment xp

[dilfdater420]

#dilfdater420 : SCENARIO--what if you and Cecil Stedman were sworn enemies with similar jobs (both rallying assets for your own interests, so you'd be the leader of the "Evil GDA" (lol)) and you were finally caught? headcanons and drabbles under the cut

TAGS: no beta we die like ... i shouldn't say... gn reader (they/them pronouns are used when referring to you). "___" is used in place of y/n. "<>" means timeskip btw. cecil hates you. you love antagonizing him. interrogation scene. enemies to two individuals who understand each other, one begrudgingly so.

Cecil feels like a weight has been lifted of his shoulders.

The two of you have been in a heated battle of loud atrocities committed on each other. You're the one behind the scenes of plenty of villain operations, guiding them, gathering intelligence, making deals with devils—which is actually something you and Cecil have in common.

The similarities between you both is something Cecil adamantly dislikes. It makes him think about himself too much. His logical sense of what's right and what's wrong is almost the same, the only thing separating the both of you is your individual philosophies. His, the fact that humanity deserves to be protected, yours, the complete annihilation of mankind is due.

You both do anything to act in accordance with your beliefs.

When captured, extensive measures are taken to make sure you, not only never leave being the same person you were when you came in, but also reveal all of your secrets to the GDA.

The difficult part of this is that you're not an easy target. How do you threaten someone who's ready to die for their beliefs?

Unfortunately for Cecil, he has one last idea—but that means having to talk to you.

—

"Sir, they're not complying with anything we've thrown at them."

Cecil sighed, head in his hands, elbows pressed against his desk. This whole couple of months has been exhausting.

There's no reprieve from you, anything Donald could think of, his department could think of, hell, even he could think of, none of it would work. You were so set in your morals, prepared to die to prove a point.

"Of course they aren't, Donald. Of course."

"Our team that's been trying to crack them," he pauses, "they don't know what else to try, sir."

"And we have tried water boarding, right?"

"Yes."

"White torture?"

"Hm."

"Attempted death by a thousand cuts?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck." His frown lines deepen. "I really thought that would work."

After a moment, Cecil piqued up. "Let me talk to them."

Donald's eyebrows raised. "Are you sure, sir?"

"If nothing else has worked, I might as well. Plus, I have an idea that might scare them into working with us."

<>

"What an unexpected surprise!"

"Well aren't you a ball of sunshine?" Cecil deadpanned.

You smiled. "You haven't seen anything yet, outside of these chains my shine is atomic."

He hated this. He didn't like the way you looked into him, as if you knew him. "Listen, ___, you aren't getting out the easy way. Either you work with us or we keep trying."

You kept staring at him.

"What are you trying to gain with this? Is the damnation of an entire race of people this important?"

You raised a brow, "Is you going the lengths you do every day to protect the human race important? Then you have your answer."

He grunted, "What if it wasn't? What if I do it because no one else will?"

"Then it still has merit, importance—same as my job."

"No, what you do isn't a job. It's not noble, not a sacrifice."

"I've sacrificed."

"At the expense of a stupid dream." He leaned onto his knees in his seat, fists clasped together.

"Just as stupid as your determination to resist against Viltrumite rule."

Disregarding the fact you somehow have that intel, "Do you want humankind to be enslaved? I thought you wanted us all dead?"

"Of course I don't. I'm just pointing out the obvious."

You peered into each other's eyes.

"We're more similar than you like to admit."

You've touched him.

"Bullshit."

"Don't dismiss it, if you're anything like me, you've thought about it."

He broke eye contact.

"We both act in drastic ways for opposite beliefs. We are two sides of the same coin."

"No, I am nothing like you."

"You recall Mr. D.A. Sinclair do you not? He's employed under you."

"Don't you dare try to compare that—"

"He should be rotting in jail. He's a mad man, irreparably ruined many lives of mankind that you so undoubtedly protect. Why employ him?"

"His reanimen are—" Cecil cut himself off.

Your smile deepened. "Cmon, you can say it."

Cecil stayed quiet.

"I'm not criticizing you, Cecil. When I find useful pawns for my work, I exploit them too."

"We are not the same."

"I'm the worst reflection of yourself that you will ever see."

Cecil stood up, walking to the door, fists balled. "This isn't over, ___."

"I hope not. Good talk, Global Defense Agency Director."

He stopped at the door for a second before continuing. "Fuck you."

He slammed the door behind him.

a/n: Cecil knows he's a pos, but to what extent?

I love scenarios where characters have to question their actions and if they're really at the level of merit they ascribe them to. Dusttale Sans fics prepared me for this day.

I would've added more exposition in the middle, but the dialogue should speak for itself. Same think with the reader and what tone to employ. I don't want to speak for you guys more than I already do lol.

Hope you all enjoyed. Lemme know if you'd like a part two of this. I have ideas for the reader and ways to mess Cecil tf UP.

Oh and if you ever wanna request something I have guidelines/boundaries up now. I also have commisions for those that like might like my writing

Thanks for reading <3

[mythals-whore]

OC in the Ballroom

thank you SO much for the tags @davrinsleftpectoral @rooks-dagger @antivan-sprig

I have thought a great deal about all of this, thank you so much for asking and being curious. keep being curious keep asking questions

CLOTHING

What’s your OC’s go-to aesthetic for a ball? Is it consistent or varied? What’s their goal behind this? are they just trying to fit in, to distract, to mislead?

some of these were in my OC Wardrobe post, which I obviously still stand by. So part of this is just in my mind Tevinter style, which of course mimics a Roman Chiton, but with a funkier/modern(?) twist.

The more Cyri part of these (to me) is the cutouts and the slits. But ALSO, of these I think the gold is SO her. something about the structured shoulders is really giving military to me and I just know she'd fuck with it heavy.

Also, because I pinned this to her board weeks ago and didn't know when I'd have the chance to use it:

she may not have piercings, but she'd fuck with a body chain like down the back or over a thigh? Also the snake hair jewelry is just so her.

DANCING

What’s their opinion on dancing? Do they have a favorite type of dance?

So obviously the Mercars aren't an Altus family, but assuming they've been a high ranking military family for a long time, I think they get invited to The Events sometimes and I have this headcanon that Cyri's mom was sort of big into trying to 'fit into society'. (this is also why Cyri plays piano) So Cyri definitely knows how to do all the dances (I think waltz is her fav and yes that's solely based on the fact that when I was researching for this drabble, that's what I pictured.) And I think she likes it fine.

However, I also think that Tevinter has dancing that's the equivalent of West Coast Swing and that's very much Not for big fancy balls, and more so the kind of dancing they do in Dock Town Taverns (to me.) and I think Cyri definitely prefers that.

LOCATION

Where are you most likely to find your OC during a ball? Balcony? Bar? Spying behind privacy screens?

My headcanon for this is a little angsty? Cyri would love to dance, but the rality is that in her youth when she went to big events like this, she was rarely asked (elf, soporati) so I think she definitely made a habit of lurking. Probably in the Mezzanine drinking the Thedas equivalent of champagne and people watching.

Post-Veilguard there's a high chance she ducks out early and/or that she and Davrin sneak away to fuck in some back hallway somewhere. (Which incidentally, she definitely also did back in the day;)

OKAY

I'm passing the tag along to @cute-ellyna @serensama @grimrevolution @basedonconjecture @biowaredisasterbisexual @mageofquandrix @gingervitus @becausedragonage @seaglassmelody @sugar-peanut-cat @daydreamingstories @glitteringdust @thatgaymerguyb @imrowanartist @griffongrey @papayafig @our-hearts-hunger @serstolas @woundedsoul12 @madamemortem @gwinaesfer and seriously if any of you have already done this and I didn't see, please link me to it(:

[turtletaubwrites]

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

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requests are closed but asks are always open! feel free to pick an emoji signature for anon asks, & let me know what you pick! here's my anon's so far: |⭐|💌|🍊|💗|

Hi, you can call me Lynna! I hope you enjoy my lil words! 🥰🥰 Currently writing for One Piece. All of my fics are Fem!Reader and NSFW unless listed otherwise.

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Misty Eyes ~ Masterlist ~ Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks) ~ DARK CONTENT ~ Ongoing ~ You were the weakest member of the Donquixote Family, so Doflamingo found another way you could serve him. Until your childhood crush found you, freeing you from those chains. What will Law expect in return?

More series masterlists, fic rec masterlists, fic playlists, & my #tags below the cut 💜

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist ~ YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader ~ (Completed) ~ DARK CONTENT ~ You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.

Numbers Game ~ Masterlist ~ Ongoing poly fic series (Paused but returning soon!) ~ Cross Guild x Fem!Reader ~ You left your stable/boring life as an investment banker to have some adventure. Unfortunately, that sweet Warlord of the Sea didn't follow your financial advice, and now you and your clown are at the mercy of his biggest lender and his new business partner.

We've All Got Needs ~ Masterlist ~ Ongoing poly fic series ~ Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader, Robin x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Robin, Sanji x Fem!Reader x Robin, (and a spinoff with Zoro x Sanji and Zoro x Fem!Reader x Sanji) ~ Enjoy the smutty shenanigans as you agree to be 'crewmates with benefits' with a certain surly swordsman. Things may get a little out of hand.

What You Need ~ Masterlist ~ Sanji x Fem!Reader (Completed) ~ You’ve been a member of the crew for a few weeks, and although you feel welcomed, you’ve been feeling a bit out of place. And your distracting crush on a certain ship’s cook isn’t helping matters. (Reader has a condition that makes intimacy difficult and sometimes painful, but Sanji is ready to prove how much he values your pleasure.)

Take Me With You ~ Masterlist ~ Buggy x Fem!Reader (Completed ~ May return after OPLA season 2) ~ Buggy takes a small town hostage and the reader asks to join him. You take this chance to leave this shithole of a town, one way or another. Buggy gives you the perfect opportunity to take some revenge before you do. What kind of life will you lead if you pass his violent audition and become one of Buggy's freaks? (Starts shortly before, and then follows the OPLA timeline.)

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Numbers Game ~ YouTube Music Playlist | YouTube Playlist Misty Eyes ~ Law x Reader ~ YouTube Music Playlist | YouTube Playlist Bend Until You Break ~ YouTube Music Playlist | YouTube Playlist More to come, and feel free to send me song recs, they make me so happy 🥰🎶

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[ambiguous-avery]

Figure You Out

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 671

Summary: Dean doesn’t care for the latest guy you’ve been seeing.

Tags/Warnings: No use of Y/N, fluff, jealous!Dean, hurt/comfort, no beta we die like men

Now Playing: Figure You Out by VOILÀ

A/N: This is such a nostalgic reminder of where I started when it came to writing. All of my initial stories were songfics. So as a nod back to my roots, have a drabble heavily inspired by the song above. Title comes from the song.

Dean Winchester wasn’t a jealous man. 

He didn’t deserve good things, so there was no reason for him to be envious over things he knew he couldn’t have. So when you started seeing whatever that chucklefuck’s name was, he didn’t care. You seemed happy, and that’s all that mattered. 

The first time you came home wearing a fancy little gold necklace Chucklefuck had given you, Dean’s jaw had tightened, and he couldn’t help but think about how he knew you preferred silver. It was a completely rational preference. Silver had more practical uses than gold. Any hunter in their right might would want to keep a solid piece of silver with them, and you were one of the most reasonable hunters he had met. You had toyed with the pendant on the end of the chain – what even was it? A bird? Didn’t matter. It was decidedly the worst gift Chucklefuck could’ve gotten you. A silver necklace with a cross as the pendant would’ve been your preference. Beautiful but still practical. Just like you.

He figured that it wouldn’t last long. You never brought him around to the bunker which meant you weren’t really interested in him. Dean wagered that you’d be sick of him by the third date. 

That was four dates ago.

Dean ran a hand over his face, pacing back and forth in his room. You had come back from your date just in time to join him and Sam for dinner, and of course Sam had to ask how it went. Chucklefuck had taken you to a fancy movie theater with reclining chairs to see some new romantic comedy that had just come out. Even as you smiled while you spoke about it, Dean knew that that wasn’t at all what you liked. You and him had spent several nights in the Dean Cave watching back to back B-horror films, all the while you were giggling beside him at the low-budget special effects. It was like Chucklefuck didn’t even know you.

 Didn’t know how you liked to play roulette with a diner menu and pick a meal at random to “keep life exciting,” as if life as a hunter wasn’t exciting enough. Didn’t know that you preferred lever action rather than pump action guns simply because they made you feel “more badass.” Didn’t know that you would prefer a cold beer to a glass of wine any day because “grapes taste better when they’re sweet.”

He hated it.

So when you came back to the bunker one evening, eyes red from crying, Dean was ready to go after some kneecaps.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“No, it’s fine, Dean,” you said, moving to push past him and into the kitchen. He caught you in his arms, pulling you close. “He and I are done.”

“I told you he didn’t deserve you,” he mumbled, holding you tightly against his chest. You sniffled and trembled in his grasp, and he held you tighter.

“Just let it be. It’s fine,” you repeated.

“No, he’s a goddamn prick who has no idea what he just gave up!” 

You pushed against him, leaning back slightly to look him in the eye. 

“He didn’t end it. I did.” Dean frowned slightly.

“Why’s that?”

“He wasn’t–” you cleared your throat. “I was setting unrealistic standards. It wasn’t fair to him, constantly comparing him to someone he could never be.”

“And… who were you comparing him to?” Dean asked slowly. He searched your face for something – anything – that might have given him a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, his name was somewhere on your tongue. There was an awkward beat of silence between the two of you. 

“You, Dean.” His name tumbled from your lips, loaded with more than he could ever let himself dream about. He kissed you, soft and sweet and gentle. You melted into his touch, and Dean allowed himself to believe for just a fleeting moment that maybe he was allowed one good thing in the world.

---

Thank you for reading, please feel free to leave a like, comment, or reblog! I would be forever grateful! 💜💜💜 Drop a comment, ask away, or add yourself to my taglist!

[sl-vega]

⋆˚✿˖° BLOSSOMING LOVE

pairings: Bachira Meguru, Isagi Yoichi x [GN!] Reader

genre: headcanon/drabbles, imagines, fluff, can be read as canon compliant/pre-bluelock au or school/no bluelock au

synopsis: flowers that the bluelock boys would give you at different stages in your relationship

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, potential inaccuracies with flower language, might make a second part with different characters if people want it.

BACHIRA MEGURU

˚୨୧⋆｡ STAGE ONE; PUPPY LOVE

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ DAFFODILS

daffodils are bright and sunny, just like the strange boy who seemed to develop an affinity towards you

"don't they remind you of me?" :D

Is what he'd probably say with the brightest smile on his face as he'd eagerly hand them to you

Bachira would probably hand them to you on the daily, sometimes he'd freshly pick them on his way to school, and while they were impulsive gifts, that doesn't mean he doesn't put effort into making them presentable

he'll usually add a matching pastel yellow ribbon to them, sometimes borrowing his mother's art supplies to fancy them up

You always thought the boy was rather...

peculiar, to say the least

but you could sense that Bachira meant well, he was incredibly open about his feelings towards you, he would never directly state that he was attracted to you, but it was rather obvious

you'd often catch him staring at you in class, shamelessly admiring your features or making eye contact that was way too close for comfort, and he'd never deny it if you ever caught him

of course, whenever you did, the boy would simply slide you a mini bouquet of daffodils with a cheeky smile, and a cute little note attached to it

ᥫ᭡ STAGE TWO; MORE THAN FRIENDS, LESS THAN LOVERS

╰┈➤ flower of choice: DAISIES

upon actually getting to know meguru, you realized that he was actually quite fun to be around

the boy's personality and smile was rather infectious, not that you were complaining

despite his extroverted and chatty nature, he was a pretty good listener

after becoming properly acquainted with the boy, you found yourself spending more and more time with bachira

some of your classmates had already assumed the two of you were together with how clingy the boy would be towards you, following you around like a lost puppy

sometimes, whenever he would accompany you on your way to school, he'd surprise you with little daisy chains he made on his way there

at first they'd be a little lopsided, but after seeing how much you liked the chains, he started to get better and better at them

he'd often place them on your head during lunch hours, or give them to you as bracelets, sometimes adorned with little clay or polymer charms that his mother would help him make

at this point in your relationship, he'd retire from attaching little notes to his flowers, one, because they weigh down the daisy chains, two because they make the flowers look less pretty and all lopsided, and three, because why write notes when he's perfectly comfortable telling you how he feels?

at this point in what you assume is a friendship with bachira, you can't seem to decide what you should label your relationship as

with how shameless the boy is around you, you're certain that you're supposed to be more than friends, but he hasn't fully committed to you yet

sure situationships suck, but with meguru, it's a little more bearable

୨♡୧ STAGE THREE: CONFESSION

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ✿ JONQUIL (NARCISSUS)

could you even label it as a confession?

is what you kept asking yourself as bachira held out the bright yellow petals as he professed his love to you in an oddly bashful way

much like how the narcissus is shameless in it's own beauty, bachira was shameless in his own love for you

except for now that is, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes was replaced with something else, something genuine and sincere

you already knew that he had feelings for you, all your classmates knew that he had feelings for you, at this rate, he may as well just shout it from the roof tops that he's head over heels in love with you

yet right here, right now, the few simple words that you thought you had been expecting all along, they had felt like a wave coming over you

you saw it coming, yet it had still shocked you

of course, you accepted his confession, how could you deny him at this rate?

he already had you far under his spell, even if he never realized it

𔓘 STAGE FOUR; TOGETHER-TOGETHER

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ YELLOW TULIPS

even after he's finally won you over, bachira still makes a point to surprise you with cute gifts

flowers included

tulips represent deep, true love

coincidence?

not at all

sometimes, when he's luck and you let him play with your hair, he'll weave flowers into it, sometimes daffodils, sometimes daisies, sometimes jonquils, and most of the time tulips

you say that they look a little lopsided in your hair and that it makes you look strange, but meguru always assures you that you look gorgeous no matter what

it's safe to say that the tulips perfectly convey how he feels about you, deep and truly in love

ISAGI YOICHI

˚୨୧⋆｡ STAGE ONE; PUPPY LOVE

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ GREEN ZINNIAS

when isagi first meets you, he's incredibly taken by you, head over heels, love at first sight, lovesick, you name it, he felt it

unlike bachira he's rather reserved when it comes to his feelings for you, he's hardly ever talked to you so actually making a move and trying to flirt is way out of the question

so he settles for becoming your secret admirer, discreetly leaving small bunches of zinnias in your locker

he didn't know what to give you at first, but after stumbling upon these lovely blossoms in a flower shop, he thought that they would suit the situation quite nicely

occasionally, on the days where he was feeling bold, he would leave a note with a short message along the lines of;

"you have a nice smile :D" -your secret admirer

sometimes, isagi would hang back as you got stuff from your locker just to see your reaction, it was always positive, and his heart would always leap into his throat whenever he saw you smile at his corny little messages

you had your suspicions about the boy, he wasn't the best liar either, but you never questioned him too much whenever you caught him lurking

it was rather cute honestly, he was rather intense whenever you saw him play soccer out on the field, but he was so bashful around you, a bit of a dork too

somehow you still hadn't put two and two together and realize that the was your secret admirer

isagi found your obliviousness adorable however

ᥫ᭡ STAGE TWO; MORE THAN FRIENDS, LESS THAN LOVERS

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ GARDENIAS

after some time had passed, you and isagi had started hanging out more, and more and you had developed a close friendship with the boy

all while you still didn't know that he was your secret admirer

after becoming well acquainted with yoichi, you started to develop feelings for him, making you care less about your secret admirer, who's true identity was still a mystery to you

isagi, like the oblivious boy he was, didn't pick up on your newfound feelings for him, and only saw your decreasing interest in your admirer

perhaps you found out it was him and this was your way of letting him down easy

his head was always swarmed with thoughts of what he could've done to make you seem a lot more distant towards his anonymous affection

so he decided to change things up a little

he heard from a friend of a friend that you thought gardenias were pretty

so isagi "head over heels for you" yoichi decided that the only logical course of action was to buy you some gardenias, bunched together and carefully arranged, and wrapped with a lovely silky bow

upon doing some reading into it, isagi found out that gardenias actually symbolize "hidden love" which made it even more perfect for the current situation

he even included a cute little card with the meaning on it after he slipped the bouquet in your locker

over time, you'd grow fonder of the gifts once more, and isagi, like the sly little bastard he is, would always try to be slick whenever he asked you about the gifts

"so you have a secret admirer huh? cool, cool. hypothetically, if they got you this colour of gardenias, would you like them?"

and surprise, surprise, those very flowers would show up in your locker the following school day

after some time, you picked up and you were well aware of isagi's little game, you were more than happy to play along though

୨♡୧ STAGE THREE: CONFESSION

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ WISTERIA

in western culture, wisterias represent the passing of time, new beginnings, and romance

several things that described your relationship with isagi

(he thought he was being so clever w/ this one, in his defense, he was, gotta give credit where credit is due)

so, several mirror pep-talks later, isagi finally musters up the courage to leave the final note in your locker asking you to meet him on the school rooftop after school

(cliche i know, but this whole secret admire thing is the most tropey you can get so it's go big or go home with him)

after finally climbing your way up to the top of the school, you are met with a familiar pair of bright blue eyes

bashful as ever, yoichi hands a small bouquet of wisteria flowers bound together with a cream white ribbon as he pours his heart out to you, a dreamy pink sunset painting the backround to his touching confession

after his whole speech asking you to go out with him, you naturally agree

"y'know, i had a feeling it was you all along..."

"WHAT?!-"

poor guy wishes you put him out of his misery sooner, but at least he's finally won you over

𔓘 STAGE FOUR; TOGETHER-TOGETHER

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ WHITE LILY

white lilies symbolize rebirth or new beginnings

they are also commonly used during easter in catholic masses, as well as weddings! (isagi may or may not be planning in advance for all you know)

your newfound relationship with isagi is simply wonderful, he knows how to treat you right and he's just a wonderful guy in general

sometimes, for nostalgia's sake, he'll leave you notes in your locker with lilies attached to them, only difference now is that he's your boyfriend rather than your secret admirer <3

the second you close your locker and place the cheesy note back into it, you're always met with his arms wrapped around your waist and his lips against your own

[anystalker707]

the red skirt

Pairing: Sam Monroe x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: sam looks way too pretty in a skirt Tags: drabble / sam's messy gender (if he even has any) / comfort / based on a talk with @bimbo-baggins17

MASTER LIST

          Seeing Sam in a skirt was uncommon—well, relatively, because he’d been wearing that plaid, pleated red skirt quite often ever since he got his hands on it a few weeks ago—, but it also felt very natural. Like something that had been missing until now. Or something being put back in place. Either way, there he was, with that black eyeshadow, black shirt, the skirt with a black belt and some chains hanging from it, and the cherry on the top, the fishnets. They contrasted so well with his pale skin.

Looking away from Sam was difficult. You lay on your stomach on his bed. It smelled nice; like his skin, his shampoo, with a hint of the perfume you’d gifted him a while ago with the message ‘for the best girlfriend ever’, and the look he had on his face when he read it then turned to you, giddy and like he’d make out with you until you fainted. He did, almost.

You came back to reality, watching Sam go around his bedroom for… whatever it was—your eyes easily followed how the hem of his skirt rode up whenever he bent over to grab something from the ground, exposing more of the back of his thighs. It wasn’t like it revealed much, though, even if he did pull the skirt further up.

Sam did wear the skirt often, but that didn’t mean he knew how to behave in it. He scrunched it up and revealed the black boxers underneath as he tried to do whatever, stepping on a stool to look on the top shelf of the closet.

“Are you listening to me, dumbass?” Sam’s voice cut through your thoughts, and your eyes went from his ass to his blue ones that glanced at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t call me dumbass,” you mumbled, muffling a chuckle against his pillow, and you had to take a moment to inhale his scent once again.

“Love of my life, light of my darkness, sweetheart,” Sam said as he stepped down from the stool and sat beside you. “I…” he trailed off, following your gaze to his skirt, before he played lightly with the hem between his fingers. “Does it look…?”

“No,” you said too fast, too harsh, too sharply compared to his small voice. “No,” you repeated softly and placed your hand over his. “You look perfect,” you whispered. His hand moved away, so you pushed his skirt up, observing the outline of his cock under such dainty fishnets, though you didn’t want to escalate things and break the spell. “I really like it.” You pushed your head under his skirt, ignoring how he gasped and cursed when your face pressed to his thighs. It wasn’t a sexual manner, no; doing that was weirdly comforting, feeling his warm skin and the texture of the fishnets against your cheek. “You gotta wear that for our next date. So hot.”

Sam was staring at you blankly with his hands in the air, not knowing what to do, and he finally let out the breath he’d been holding to let his hands over you, your shoulder, your head, hesitantly. “…Fucking pervert. Yeah, sure.” He let a small smile tug on his lip, betraying his sharp exhale when patting your shoulder. The thought you wanted him to wear the skin in public, with you, made his heart flutter. “I’ll think about it.”

⋆°｡⋆🎧🎸★ 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆