#(i lie it is indeed inspired by that)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hi! I love your Nathan stuff and i always come back to read them whenever i’m in my nathan phase.

i was wondering if you’d be down to do #q and #3 for the kiss prompts with nathan. i was reading over them and i thought of a dumb scenario where he’s been trying to get a kiss all day but it’s just dumb little pecks every time. i just know he’d get so sassy about it.

if you don’t feel like it or don’t think it works with nathan then don’t worry about it! thank you!!

I'm guessing that q was meant to be 1. If it wasn't and I wrote it wrong....soz

Prompts: Small kisses littered across the other’s face; A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

It's no secret to the world that you and Nathan are a couple, but on the average day-to-day, you don't go out of your way to advertise that fact.

When you're busy, you're more focused on pushing the company forward, not pushing your relationship forward. Nathan does it, too, and on hectic days, you don't take offense. The two of you are busy, and for as much as you love one another, you don't always make your romantic relationship a priority.

Come to think of it, the two of you hardly ever make it a priority.

Friday morning is no different.

You're on a call. You're listening closely to the feedback from your Chief Marketing Officer—the feedback from your annual summit is less favorable than you'd like. Your user base is concerned about the increased reliance on AI, but you're not relying on it—you're developing it, leaning into it, into the ways that your users have been accessing it—otherwise why the fuck else would you have developed it?

You nearly miss the sound of the knock on your door, but you glance up, doing a double-take when you spot him lingering in your doorway. He raises his finger to his lips, and you know that he wants you to avoid mentioning that he's listening in or has joined you in the room. He does this sometimes—like an Undercover Boss situation without the cameras and shitty wigs and fake buck teeth. You nod and wave him further into your office, adding, "Go on, I'm listening," When the product manager on the other side of the call goes quiet.

Nathan creeps further into the office as your product officer goes on, planting his palms on your desk and leaning in. You hardly turn your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek before waving him away.

--

You catch sight of him again in the elevator, but you're distracted again, eyes and mind focused on your phone, on the email that you're answering. You lean over, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips before stepping off of the elevator at your floor.

--

It happens in a crowded hall. You hardly catch sight of him, but you know that it's him, somehow—in the way that the others go quiet and stuff, and the hush of their otherwise free conversation. You reach out as he reaches for you, catching hold of his hand and giving it a squeeze before you push onto your meeting.

--

It's been a normal day. So why is Nathan beating the shit out of his punching bag? You lean in the doorway of his home gym, watching him rain blows down on the bag in front of him. You eye the sweat gleaming on his biceps and forehead, the steady pounding of his gloved fists against the vinyl.

"...Let up, he's already dead," You finally tease.

Nathan's punches slow before he ultimately reaches out, slowing the bag. You're surprised by the heated look that he points toward you as he turns in your direction, taking slow, measured steps toward you.

"Did you eat already?" You ask—but he doesn't answer. You watch him plant on his hands on his hips, drawing in deep breaths to steady himself.

"Kiss me."

"...What?" You frown.

"Give me a kiss—a fucking real one this time."

"I gave you real ones—"

"A real goddamn kiss, not those stupid little pecks I got all day."

You roll your eyes, straightening up and beginning to turn away. "Alright. I'm going to go make my dinner. Come and find me when you've moved on from being so fucking dramatic—"

You aren't able to turn fully away from him before he grasps your hips, pushing you back against the door jamb. Your breath catches in your throat, and you hardly get the chance to get a good look at him before Nathan's lips are descending greedily against yours. Your eyelids flutter, but you let them close and settle as he presses his body flush against yours. You sigh quietly, allowing your arms to loop around his shoulders, fingers slipping through the beads of sweat that have gathered at his nape.

Nathan draws away just enough for you to draw your breath, his tongue teasing against the seam of your lips.

"I ask you for a kiss again," He murmurs, "That's what I fuckin' want. Understood?"

You smile, hardly holding back a giggle.

"You're the boss."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box 

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 ; @foxilayde

@writefightandflightclub ; @thedukeofcaladan

[hanzajesthanza]

[shaguro]

— ✰ NEVER LOSE ME | CONNIE S.

✧synposis: connie loves to visit his favorite girl after his races.

✧contents: smut with a lil plot. (streetracer!connie x stripper reader, reader is black. (she has a fro but no other physical descriptions are given besides that.) unestablished relationship. unprotected sex (p in v) breeding kink?? unrequited feelings but not really. reader is just young, sexy and free; just having fun. 🩷 very inspired by the song by flo milli, doesn't follow that exact plot though! mdni.

✧word count: 1.6k.

✧shanti’s note: chile… i made three different drafts before i settled on this one, okay! so it was definitely a major work in progress for a while but we made it yall! i'm so nervous about this one for some reason, can't pinpoint why. anywho, i hope y'all enjoy it. forgot to answer the ask but THANK YOU for the ask anon, and i hope you enjoy it 🩷

all the other dancers wondered how you managed to bag the connie springer, a well-known street racer in your area. he was a loyal client. always respectful, tipped well — not to mention, he’s fine as fuck. connie always came to see you after one of his many winning races, ready to shower you in affection and with money he just won. so just like the other times, you’re in one of the private rooms in the strip club; the pink led lights illuminated your soft skin, showcasing all the dips and curves of your beautiful body.

“it’s because of you, baby.” connie licks his lips, tattooed hands rested on the fattest part of your ass, only separated by the thin fabric of your thong. “you’re the reason i never lose.”

“oh please.” you kiss your teeth. with your hands on his knees, you lean forward to give him the view you knew he loved. “you say that shit every time you come see me. we both know it’s not true, so stop it.”

now it was his turn to suck his teeth, his hand meeting your ass with a hard smack! you gasp and almost jolt forward but connie’s hand is on your throat, pulling you backwards until your bare back is against his chest. you tilt your head to meet those pretty hazel eyes and god, his glare was so intense it actually made you nervous.

and it had your pussy fluttering, clenching on nothing.

“i say it ‘cuz i mean it.” his free hand trails up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to your core. he chuckles when you spread your legs, watching your reflection intently in the tall mirror. “didn’t even do anything yet and look, already openin’ up f’me.”

this sort of interaction should not be happening between a dancer and a client, you knew that — when it came to connie though, he was the only exception. maybe it was because you felt like he saw you, went out of his way to have an actual relationship with you. connie wanted you to be his girlfriend but you always refused. you were too sexy, too carefree to be tied down by anyone, especially a man.

it would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the man’s company though; you two had gotten close, close enough that you’d link up outside the club. late nights spent in his customized red wraith, hanging out the window as the cool evening breeze hit you. connie would buy you all kinds of jewelry and the biggest bouquets of red roses you’d ever seen. take you out on dates, even flew you out once. but you were just having fun and that didn’t mean you needed to be with him.

in moments like this, though? you considered that possibility a little more.

“connie, mmm.” you moaned, his nimble fingers rubbing at your barely-clothed clit. there’s something about his touch that electrifies your whole body, your hips rolling, seeking more friction. “my b-boss might pop in, we shouldn’t..”

connie hums in acknowledgment, his wet tongue tracing along your neck. “i don’t give a fuck and you know that.” indeed, you did. “she was on your ass last time?”

the last time your boss had walked in, connie had you on your back, legs spread wide as he ate you out like a man starved. it was embarrassing, even connie couldn’t save you from the lengthy lecture you received. you don’t remember every single thing your boss said but she made one rule very clear: no fucking in her strip club.

you were a fan favorite so she wouldn’t get rid of you, even if you had a tendency to bend the rules.

“she was.” you sigh, leaning your head back on his shoulder. one of your hands were on his head, feeling on his blonde buzzcut while his lips latched onto delicate skin. “i don’t give a fuck either.”

his chuckle vibrated through your skin, sent shivers up your spine. you knew he’d just left a mark with the way his tongue swept over the damage, another trace of him that would need extra concealer.

“how much time do we have left, pretty?”

you look up to the bedazzled glittery clock on the wall, squinting your eyes to see it better. “hmm.. like twenty minutes?”

connie scoffed. “i’ll make you cum in ten.”

all that could be heard in the dimly-lit room were the sounds of your sweet cries as your ass ricocheted off connie’s pelvis, the steady clap clap clap so loud in your ears. you were on all fours with connie right behind you. he had one hand cupped on your jaw, keeping your head upright and the other on the fat of your hip — digging crescents into your soft skin with each snap of his hips.

“open your eyes, baby. look and see how pretty you look.” he gives your jaw a light squeeze and you comply, slowly opening your lashed eyelids to observe yourself, to drink in the mess he’s made of you.

your brown curly fro ruffled and scattered, drool trickling from your open mouth with one hand on the crystal mirror to brace yourself. you swore your eyes had crossed from the overwhelming pleasure you felt and he was so deep — damn near touching your lungs, knocking all the air out of them.

and then connie is leaning forward, his breath ghosting your ear. “see? so pretty.” this was anything but an innocent statement. connie took pride in having you like this — completely dumb off his dick to the point that all you could do is beg, whine for more and he’d never hold back. he’d give it all to you.

not only his dick but he’d give his whole heart too, the whole damn world if it meant he’d never lose you.

“c-connie, ohhfuck.” you mewl, your free hand is reaching behind you, scrambling to find his arm to claw at or anything to steady yourself with. “so deep, i c-can’t—“

“you can, baby.” he coos. connie holds your arm and to your horror, bends it to a degree at the small of your back, keeping it in place. his pace never falters, grinding into that swollen spot inside you so deliciously, you couldn’t breathe — any attempts at sound caught in your throat.

“always take me so well—fuck.” connie lets out a moan so erotic, your pussy clenches involuntarily around him. “l-love this fuckin’ pussy.”

your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at connie’s reflection in the mirror, admiring the handsome man that tore you up with ease. his head is tilted down with his bottom lip captured between his top row of pretty white teeth, eyes trained on where your bodies connected. he was mesmerized at how you swallowed all his dick so greedily, sinking deeper and deeper as you fucked back into him, a white milky ring of cream forming on the base of his length — it was truly a sight like no other.

“want you to myself,” connie grits out, landing a quick slap on your ass, rubbing the tender flesh right after to soothe the sting. “c-can’t lose you, (y/n)—hah—can’t let anyone else h-have you.”

“c-connie, you—“

“tell me,” he interrupts and his eyes meet yours in the glass, all low and dark, full of passion. “tell me you’re mine, that this—” his hand trails down the arched curve of your back, it was like fire trailed behind his fingertips. “—is all for me, only for me.”

you nod dumbly, not even realizing what you’re saying, your voice only a whisper. “y-yes, it’s y-yours.”

connie shakes his head and leans forward once again, this time with a sharp thrust into your soppy cunt, filling you to the hilt. you gasp and you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into your skull, from crying out his name.

“gotta be louder than that, pretty. say it one more time f’me?” he’s pressing wet kisses along your jaw and neck, clouding your focus even further. you could feel his dick pulsing inside you, stretching you out so perfectly. you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, letting him ruin you till the end of time.

“i-it’s—“ you inhale, a deep shaky breath. “it’s all yours, connie. this p-pussy is yours, so fuck me like you m-mean it.”

it’s like as soon as you say those words, a switch flips in connie’s brain.

instead of straightening his posture, his chest is flush against your back, the gold chain on his neck dangling over your shoulder as he starts to rut his hips into you with no precision. and it’s so filthy, your poor cunt squishing and squelching sporadically, warm milky slick trickling down your thighs.

“gonna—nghh, gonna fuckin’ cum.” his voice raised an octave, all slurred and whiney. “where… where d-do you want it, baby?”

he was expecting to hear your ass or your back, maybe even your face if you were feeling extra nasty. nothing prepared him for that pretty whine you let out prior to saying,

“inside! want it inside con, wanna feel it..” you give him the cutest pout and all he could think was fuck, you would really be the death of him.

only a few moments passed before you got what you wanted — connie’s hot, sticky cum paints your inner walls generously and it’s so much, each rock of his hips had the fluid gushing out of you. it sends you right over the edge. your legs give out, the sheer force of your orgasm had you trembling, limp in connie’s strong arms. you glanced tiredly at the ticking clock one last time and damn, he really did make you cum in ten minutes.

there was no time to recover because as you two were on the floor, tangled and sweaty, still out of breath — your boss slams the door open, her face screwed with anger.

“both of y’all, get the fuck out!”

but you didn’t care, not at all. this just meant you'd have another one of those nights, music blasting from those booming speakers as connie sped down the freeway, his hand on your thigh when he'd repeat those six words without fail, "i never want to lose you."

tonight, you decided that he wouldn't.

the hoe house: @rintcrous @90ekz @honeybleed @nysrage @vixensajntz @hyunip @zuriayan @tishlvr @black-yn @loccka6 @chile-im-embarrassed @dxddykenn @sheluvzeren @viisgrave @xocherishxo @vipprincessblog @prettypixigrl @sugxrbxbyqueen @fuyuswifey @iikatsukii @pinkprintzz @astrokatsuki @qupidology @smolchubbygoddess @juicepouchhh @saraiitrue | @bleach-your-panties @chrollohearttags @ramonathinks @blkwriters @ichigosluvrr

join the house here. ♡

@/hoesluvshanti, 2023-2024. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.

[chibsandchill]

See me

Fandom: Saltburn 

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader 

Summary: Each room in Saltburn is bursting at the seam with memories with you, and Felix remembers some of his favorite moments as he makes his way to his prize. 

Warnings: Felix, Mentions and descriptions of acts of violence and murder, NSFW content, MDNI, 18+, unreliable narrator (Felix), toxic relationship, obsessive tendencies, grammatical and spelling errors, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), Felix is a creep, themes of violence - self-harm and equivalent themes are prevalent through the imagine, some parts of their dynamic takes inspiration from Hannigram but with my spin on obsession

I am not responsible for your media consumption. Read the tags. 

MDNI

Masterlist

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

It’s a cloudy day when Felix first saw you,

but with you came the sun, 

warmth, empathy, love. 

Oh, how he loved your heart. But, oh, how careless you were with it. It was a gift, 

one meant for him, 

from you. 

Then why did you waste it on those beneath you? You chipped away at it to mend sobbing students, tore at it until it bled and thick scars rose like mountains. You took on their pain with a blindingly bright smile, 

only Felix saw how their burdens weighed you down. 

The sun was meant to warm, to burn from far away, 

but they tore you down from your place in the sky so that they might leech your warmth until you are left barren. Their sorrows were cold as ice against you. 

They stole you from him. Piece by piece they ripped at you with filthy nails. You became known on campus as someone who’d listen. Who wouldn’t judge. How could you when you felt their problems as if they were your own? The more they spoke those words dripping with poison, the more they tainted the very blood in your veins with their darkness. 

‘Walk in their shoes’. 

You didn’t need to. You could walk in their skin, feel their emotions as if they were yours. Heartbreak plagued you, sorrow fell on you like an ever present shadow. The death of a family not yours turned your face gray and your eyes misty.

Until Felix put a stop to it all. How could he stand by and watch it happen? The slow destruction of a bright star, who burned so bright that all envied it. 

Jenny from history of art, Carl from math, Robert from physics, Matilda from psychology, Caroline, Jeremy, Han, Thomas, Harry, Derek, Henry, Linda, Nico, Mark, John, Hans, William, Frederic. All turned away at your door. 

“Yes, I’ll tell her.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Sure thing, buddy.”

Oh, how they believed his lies. Sweet, sweet, Felix Catton wouldn’t lie to them. Surely not. 

But lie, he did. It spewed from his lips like honey. All to have his sun beam at him again. To wash away the taint of the others from your skin, your heart, your eyes. He would have you look at him with soft, relaxed eyes. 

Him. Him. Him. Him.

Your protector. Even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“Felix.” 

He hummed. 

Your eyes are heavy with sleep when you look up at him, but the affection is hard to miss. It makes you glow. Felix curled his arm further around you, bringing you closer to him. But even then it is not close enough. He aches. It’s a want deeper than skin, deeper than bones or even his soul. It was as if his very being was made of want, of longing so intense he was blinded by it. If God was indeed real then he had created Felix with a thread laced with obsession, with love transcending all else. 

Even thinking about you made his heart race, pound. 

“Can I braid your hair?” 

“‘Course.” He said against your skin. 

As if you needed to ask. All of him was yours. 

You try to sit up but Felix isn’t ready to break the contact yet. He feels like a battery, no matter how bizarre a comparison it is, constantly needing to be recharged so that he might survive when you part. He’s constantly cold without you, he feels empty; hollow. His hands are too light with the lack of you, he breathes too easy without the weight of you on his chest. If he could he’d carve his heart out so that you could carry it with you, for that was how he felt anyway. He’d gouge himself hollow so that he could fit you inside. Never to be parted again, joined together by shared blood, flesh and bone. 

It’s not easy with his hold on you, but you manage to shift so that you sit in his lap instead. It’s not ideal if you mean to truly braid his hair but Felix won’t complain. He pushed his head into your touch when your fingers hover over him. 

“Patience.” You half-heartedly scold him. 

Your fingers weave through his hair, nails scratching just right against his scalp. With deft hands you untangle the mess you’d created during the night. There’s not much to braid but more than enough for you to wrap around your fingers and tug. The action pulls a low groan from his throat. 

He grabs your hips. Felix wonders if you’ve noticed how he’s caged you in. You probably don’t, as sweet and trusting a being as you surely wouldn’t peel back his layers to gasp at the thriving darkness beneath. With you he was his truest self. Could you see him? Would you run if he were to cast off the layers? Let you see him? 

Maybe you already could. You had seen the others. Even the empty ones, the ones who had gouged themselves hollow and shoved the essence of what they thought he wanted until it spilled from every hole in their body. 

Felix wasn’t hollow. He was bursting at the seams with life, same as you. And yet you stayed. Surely you knew. You had to. You and he were one. Two pieces of a whole finally reunited. 

He breaths in your scent, noses along your throat before allowing his head to rest in the crook of your neck. There’s a bruise there hidden on your shoulder blade. Late one night when you’d already fallen asleep he mouthed it into your skin with the moon as his witness, 

only, 

it had started to fade. 

He’d have to do it again. Closer. Marking you under the cover of darkness wasn’t enough anymore. An unspoken claim didn’t satisfy him anymore. It wasn’t enough. He was beginning to think it never would be. He could bruise every inch of your skin with his love and his skin would still itch to do more – to prove himself more to you.  

Just as his hands slide down to rest on the curve of your ass the scene slips through his fingers like sand. 

He blinks it away. He’s standing in the driveway of Saltburn. Your favorite statue is left in shambles on the gravel with his blood splattered across the white marble. 

“What the fuck.” Felix’s hand shakes and burns with pain. His knuckles are split open. 

It had been a slip of a thought he had once when you first came to Saltburn and you’d taken to leaning on the statues, the furniture, walls, pillars. He’d wanted them all gone. He’d be your pillar. He wouldn’t crumble with age, would never make you think they stood strong only for the core to be riddled with holes from pests.

Felix was whole and strong, had made himself such, 

for you. 

He’d burnt the tendrils of influence his mother had dug into him since childhood. Torn the threads of her darkness right out of the tapestry. Oh, how she cried when she noticed. ‘Felix,’ she’d whispered, a rare show of emotion plastered across her face, ‘what have you done?’. 

She shouldn’t have worried about what he had done. No, she should’ve worried about what he was going to do. 

He watched you for weeks before approaching you. He noticed what made you laugh, what made you smile, frown, scowl. And so he took that too. Cut out the parts of himself that would drop the smile from your face and sewed on the parts that he lacked until he was left a patch-work version of perfecting befitting a Mary Shelley novel. Pus and blood seeped from the stitches. The sight was unseemly. So he waited until he’d perfected himself, until the stolen was assimilated, until it was like another Felix had never existed. 

Felix throws the heavy doors open and the maids scurry away from his sight. 

Duncan emerges from the pack. Even after all he’d seen, his adoration for Felix remained. “Welcome back, Felix.” 

He nods. 

And then he’s off. 

The route he takes is reminiscent of your first tour of the mansion. He’s even nodding along as if hearing himself introduce it all. The staircase where he “fingered” his cousin. As if. Your face had reddened with equal parts jealousy and sheer disbelief of ‘what the fuck’. 

One of the smaller sitting rooms. The green one. He fucking hates that room. But you love it. He went down on you for the first time there. Right on the couch with his granny’s ghost knocking down a shelf of antique plates over his head. The blood had driven you crazy. 

The thought alone made him hard. 

But this was also the first room you’d held him properly in. He’d been crying. 

“What's wrong?” You ask when he threw the door open. 

You’d been doing some summer reading for uni, but your fingers clutched the opening pages with strength that betrayed your pounding headache. 

“Fucking Ollie.” 

Your brows furrow “Oliver?”

Felix lay down on the couch with his head in your lap. You smell good. And you’re soft. 

“Yeah.” He sigh. “He was lying to us this whole time. Turns out poor Oliver Quick has both a dad and mum who loves him. Even siblings! They live in a lovely house in a picture perfect neighborhood.”

‘I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you!’

As if there was even a sliver of Felix that didn’t belong to you, that didn’t scream out for you every second you were apart. Had Oliver not been paying attention? Could he not see the need that permated him? It ran so deep, was so all-consuming that he couldn’t contain it all. He breathed desire, cried longing, even fucking pissed envy. Envy even over the very air you breathed, the clothing that hugged you, the sheets for the audacity to imply he wasn’t enough to keep you warm. 

You hum as your fingers drift down to cup his face. 

“He was in love with me.” 

“Isn’t everyone?” You joke. 

Felix’s eyes opened (he hadn’t realized he closed them). “You love me?”

“Of course.” You trace a scar on his cheekbone. 

“Say it.” 

“I love you, Felix.”

Even that memory fades, but your words linger. 

I love you, Felix. 

You always linger. Your kisses burn his skin and he wishes it left a scar so that he could look upon it and relive it all. 

The green room is abandoned quickly, and he’s off. 

“A blue room!” You exclaim, and to Felix’s displeasure you let go of him to take it all in. 

“Yeah. It’s… blue.” 

“What? No ghosts? No artifacts?”

Felix shakes his head. “Nope. Just blue.”

Felix sees himself leaning against the door while you spin around the room. It’s like a movie, almost. Only it’s his memories and he can remember every second he’s ever spent in your presence. Including this one. And the next one. 

The one where you’re on your knees.

You’re pressing soft kisses to the tip of his cock, pressing your love into every inch of skin you can find as if you wanted to stay there, to have your love replace the tar that ran through his veins. 

It’s odd. He can almost feel the tingles left by your touch, but he’s untouched. Felix’s hands form fists at the sight. Was it possible to be jealous even of himself? The envy boiling in his stomach certainly said so. He would not share you even with himself. 

Felix strides forward and sinks into the place his past self sits. He unbuckles his jeans and frees his cock from his underwear. If he were not so deep in madness he might’ve felt the cold of the room, but he was, and so he felt the warmth of your hands, the wetness of your mouth as you wrap your lips around his tip. 

He moans. He didn’t know what he liked the most about it. The vulnerability, the act itself, your presence, or that it left you with a part of him inside you. You’d kneel in front of him for as long as it took, but Felix would not have you be uncomfortable and so he slid a pillow under your knees. 

Your hands cup his balls. He twitches. You take more of him into you. It feels like heaven to have you wrap yourself around him. Wet, warm, silky heaven. All for him. 

Him. Him. Him. Him. His. 

You moan around him. It sends vibrations straight through him. It pulls a low groan straight from his chest, one that makes you moan. His pleasure is your pleasure, and your pleasure is his, and so the circle begins. 

His eyes roll into the back of his head when you begin bobbing your head up and down. You slurp. Electricity runs down his spine. It’s wet. Sloppy. Saliva drips down your mouth as you press your nose into his abdomen. 

Someone drops a plate somewhere in the house and the spell is broken. Not unlike a reflection in a lake is the memory distorted, wrong. You’re on your knees without the pillow. He’s standing above you, not sitting. Your knees are bruised and bleeding. You’re crying. 

Some small part of him, one that he’d allowed to fester for far too long, enjoys the scene. Enjoys the submission, thrives in the knowledge that it is not only he that longs and wants and would press and press until nothing remains if only to bring you a sliver of happiness. You smile around his cock. It’s not the pain that brings you to tears. 

This isn’t right. This isn’t him. It’s Elspeth messing with his head. It’s Oliver whispering his lies in his ear. 

He wants to vomit. Why would they punish him so? To make him see you hurt, 

to force him to see himself hurt you, brutalize you, 

humiliate you. 

Why, when he adored you, worshiped you. If there was a puddle he’d lay himself down to let you walk over him. He’d drown himself so that you would not have to dirty yourself. Like a tumor he’d performed surgery after surgery to remove what you didn’t like. 

And you did the same. 

The image is restored, but he’s already on his feet. 

He would wait no longer. 

Felix runs up the stairs but is forced to a halt by the moans coming from the king’s bedroom. Another memory? The door is already open. 

“Tell me your vows again.” 

You’ve got your legs up in the air behind you, head resting in your hands as you stare at him. 

“Dear,” Felix turns around from where he stood by the window. Your name sounds like prayer on his lips. “I’ve never been alone. People have flocked to me since before I can remember. But they didn’t see me. But you… you, I let you see me. It’s a rare gift. And it’s one that I’ve never regretted giving you. I’ve never felt more loved than in your arms. Do I need to continue, Mrs Catton?” 

You laugh. 

“Come to bed, Felix.”

The memory changes before he can enjoy the sight of you in your wedding dress. The happiest day of his life. Gone in a blink. 

You’re no longer on the bed. You’re in his arms, crying yet again. There’s blood on his shirt. No finger graces your finger. Felix closes his eyes. He knows this memory. KNows very well what he’d have to endure to get back to you. 

“Y-you killed him!” You shudder. 

Felix shushes you. “There was no other way.”

“There’s always another way.”

“Not this time." 

Truly, there wasn’t. You saw much, but Oliver was so good at pretending to be someone else that he even fooled himself into believing his own lies. And so, you thought nothing of it when Oliver offered you his bottle of wine. Had no idea of the drugs that he’d shoved in there. 

“Are you scared of me?” Felix asks you. His voice shakes. He remembers his own fear, how his stomach churned. He could write a thousand words and not even chip at the surface of the emotions he felt. A thrill at the thought of you finally seeing the deepest deepest parts of him? Disgust that he’d slipped and revealed a crack in his mask? Such fear that it clung to his very bones, stopped his lungs from working and had his own eyes water with tears? All true. And yet all of them are false. There wasn’t a single emotion he could place, they all blended together to form a concoction of heart-wrenching pain and fear. 

The memory fades away. He doesn’t remember the rest. All he remembers is how it ended. 

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his thrusts. His hands are cradling your face, kissing away the tears of pleasure. You push your legs up higher on his back where you’ve hitched them, your own hands pressing against his own face to bring him closer. He’s inside you but he’s not close enough. 

Felix leans down to cover your whole body with his. You squeak at the change. 

“Oh god,” you throw your head back with a moan. 

He moves a deft finger down to press down on your clit. He experimented with pressure, directions, even spelled out his own name with your pleasure. Felix feels as though he’s on fire, but still he wants more. He wants to be closer. Closer. Closer. Closer. 

You clench around his cock, and he stutters. 

The love in your eyes makes him falter, before he drives into you faster than before. The bed squeaks, one hard thrust away from breaking. Fitting. So is he. Your right hand moved up his cheekbone, past his ear and to the back of his head. Your touch is gentle, barely-there pressure as you guide him down to slant your mouth over his. His heart aches with love, adoration, you. You’ve made it your home. 

Yet again he is denied release as the memory is gone. The room is empty. 

“Fuck.”

It’s not graceful the way he stalks out of the room. No more interruptions, he thinks. 

The last door in the corridor. Yours. And his. Your marital chambers, as Duncan would call it. Old fashioned bastard. 

He pushes it open without as much as a knock. And there you are. 

“Felix!” You cross the room in seconds and then you’ve thrown yourself in his arms. “We missed you!”

Your rounded stomach presses into him. He rests his forehead on yours, pressing long, soft kisses against your lips, even as you giggle and try to move away. When you do, he chases after you. He’s not done. Never done. 

His legs feel like jelly, his soul is on fire, 

but he finally found you.

In a house full of memories and vengeful ghosts he found you. 

And you saw him, as you always do, and he’s tugged back into bed with the comforting weight of you pressing him down into the mattress. 

And he’s almost content. 

Almost. 

Taglist:

@fedyascoffin

[dragonbarbie]

𝐖𝐇𝐘'𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇?

modern!aegon ii targaryen x reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

summary: reader thinks aegon can never be more than a one night stand, and aegon is intent on getting her to give him a chance.

word count: 2.5k

tags: modern!au, smut, drunk!aegon having sex with sober!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, tity sucking, pussy eating, p in v sex, unprotected sex

note: i very much write fanon!aegon, not the canon, show!version.

sidenote: is this lowkey inspired by my irl situationship who wont quit calling me every time he gets drunk?? maybe

it was a regular friday night for aegon. his frat was throwing a big party, and he had organised everything down to the last detail. he had a reputation to maintain after all, known affectionately as the king of parties of dragonstone university. he had already drunk his own weight in alcohol, flirted (and then proceeded to get handsy) with a couple of girls but he’d been too distracted to follow through with any of them.

his mind instead wandered back to a couple of weeks ago, at another party, where he’d met y/n. she’d been chatting to cregan stark, wearing a little black dress that hugged her in the best way imaginable. he knew, looking at her enchanting laugh at stark’s dumb joke, he had to have her. putting on his most charming smile, he’d approached her.

she’d been wary of him because of his reputation around campus (who wouldn’t be) but after a few disarming jokes as his fingertips grazed the side of her thighs, he’d managed to convince her to give him a chance.

drunken steps were then taken back to her dorm room, and they’d had what aegon could only call amazing sex.

now hold on, you have to believe him when he says amazing, alright? he’d slept with too many women to count, after a while the nights blended to the point that he couldn’t much differentiate between what having sex with each of them had felt like. so, when one such night stood out for him? it meant it had met a very high bar indeed. after all, he thought, he didn’t go around spending the night at every girl’s place.

he'd thus expected a little warmer treatment come morning and was rudely shocked at her attempting to throw him out. still, wearing his jeans in such a hurry that its button and fly was undone, unlaced shoes, bare-chested as he held his rumpled shirt in his hand, he’d had the audacity to offer her a lazy grin and promise “i’ll call you.”

“please” she’d snorted with an amused look, “everyone knows aegon targaryen is not the type to call.” taking no note of his offended expression, she’d shut the door in his face.

he’d been wondering about those words ever since. sure, she hadn’t been wrong but, hey, he’d meant the lie this time! with tits that great, ass that perfect, why wouldn’t he want a repeat of last night? he’d thought to himself.

determined to prove her wrong, he’d asked around the frat house and found out her number. but as his hand had hovered over the call button, something had stopped him. she’d caught him spot on, he realised. he wasn’t a relationship guy, and she wasn’t expecting the relationship-thing with him. perhaps it was best he left her alone.

he’d done just that, at least while sober. drunk aegon on the other hand, found it much easier to pick up the phone and dial her number.

“who is this?” there was panic and sleep in her voice, having picked up an unknown number at 2 in the morning “sweetheart! you picked up” he’d grinned, words slurring. he could practically hear the eyeroll on the other end. “aegon… to what do i owe the pleasure?” “i was just missing you.” he sighed. “sure.” nothing in her voice indicated that she believed him.

“i’m actually not far from your dorm. how about i come up with a bottle of tequila and we can… catch up?” he suggestively added. “it’s 2:14 am…. on a tuesday.” she pointed out, but her words didn’t seem to mean much to him as he replied, “so?” an exasperated sigh could be heard over the phone, “good night, aegon.” click. he stared down on the iphone in his hand in disbelief, she’d hung up on him.

he decided maybe he’d come out too strong, so the next time he texted first. he’d stared at the text for a couple of minutes, and when he saw that she was online but hadn’t bothered to text him back, he’d walked over to the nearest girl and proceeded to make out with her in the bathroom. until he was interrupted with a buzzing in his pocket, “just a minute” he’d mumbled against her lips, unbothered by her disappointed expression as he fished for the phone in his pocket hurriedly.

he saw that y/n had finally replied to his ‘u up?’ with a ‘depends.’ his brow furrowed at her response in confusion, he typed back ‘on what’.

the notification arrived with a ping. her response read ‘are u drunk?’. something told him instinctively to lie. he typed out a no, but once the message sent, he realised it had autocorrected to ‘yo’. he corrected it to a no and sent again, only to find the same mistake committed again. it was only after a string of typos had been sent, did he blink and realise autocorrect wasn’t to blame at all, his damn fingers just refused to cooperate with his inebriated brain.

ping. after receiving the string of nonsense, she finally replied ‘i got my answer.’ “aegon?” the girl in front of him looked at him impatiently, only to have him grab the handle of the bathroom door, leaving with a quick “gotta go”. he immediately called up y/n as he walked out of the party, but the call went straight to voicemail. all four times.

thus, every night aegon had gotten drunk since, he found himself being distracted by thoughts of y/n, frustrated at her refusing to engage with him.

that night too, once the clock on the wall started to look to him as if it were melting off and his feet seemed to stumble wherever he walked, his brain suddenly thought showing up to her dorm was the best idea ever.

reaching her door, he ran a hand through his hair before knocking. no response. impatient, he loudly whined “y/n! c’mon, open up!” met with more silence. he whipped his phone out, blinking at the bright screen as he concentrated to make sure it was without typos, he sent her a text, ‘m 0utsidee’. he pounded with his fist on the door one more time, before a door opened, but not the one he was standing in front of.

three doors down, y/n stood against her doorframe in her small black shorts, red tank top riding up slightly to reveal skin just above them. “wrong fucking door, idiot.” aegon grinned as he walked towards her. “you’re lucky baela’s out of town for the weekend, otherwise she would have kicked your ass for banging on her door like that.”

ignoring her, he pouted as he leaned his head against her door frame, looking too much like a wounded puppy. y/n felt a tug at her stomach at how undeniably cute he looked. “why don’t you ever pick up my calls?”

“why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she asked instead of answering. “what?” he mumbled, confused. “high….why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?” she slowly repeated, as if talking to a two-year-old. “i’m not interested in someone who needs to be drunk to call me. i don’t want to be your booty call.” she shrugged. his lower lip jutted out further at her response, crease appearing between his brow. oh, gods, y/n found herself thinking, how could someone manage to look this pathetic and this cute at the same time.

“you’re not a booty call.” he groaned in protest. after all, there were enough girls at that party willingly throwing themselves at him, he could have been with anyone, and yet… it was her door his drunken steps had taken the path of.

“go home, aegon. it was a one-time thing. it’s not happening again.” she insisted. her words seemed to have no effect on him, as he placed a hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. he bent down to her ear and whispered, his words slurring, “let me show you all the reasons that this should be more than just a ‘one-time-thing’.”

he pressed his lips to hers, softly at first. she didn’t immediately kiss him back, but the feeling of his lips on hers felt more intoxicating than whatever it was that she could smell off his breath, and she found her lips moving against his within seconds. he bit her lower lip playfully, at her response. she parted her lips to allow him to slide his tongue past them. his hand, meanwhile, slid under the material of her tank and travelled upwards, thumb pressing against her nipple as he squeezed her breast. breaking from the kiss for a second, he smirked at her, “didn’t bother wearing a bra to greet me?”. “i was preparing for bed!” she hissed in response. “excuses” he shook his head at her, teasing.

with his hand he lifted her tank to reveal her bare breasts. “aegon!” she attempted to keep her voice low, lest her neighbours wake up to the scene, “we’re in the middle of the hallway, anyone can walk in!” the idea of someone catching them only made it all the more exciting for aegon, “relax.” he told her with a laidback smile.

before she could protest, his head dipped and he captured her nipple in his mouth. a moan escaped her lips at the feeling, and she stumbled back, her back hitting her doorframe. aegon continued his tongue’s assault on her sensitive nipple, one hand gripping her waist to keep her in place, the other reaching behind her to squeeze her ass. her hand held the nape of his neck, as her head was thrown back in pleasure at his actions. she whined when he abruptly stopped.

he kneeled down and his fingers reached up, pulling her shorts and panties down her legs, causing a shiver to go up her spine. chewing on her lower lip in nervousness she weakly said, “we should go inside” but she couldn’t deny that the thought of getting caught made her even more wet. there was a hint of recklessness and danger in his eyes, “where’s your sense of adventure?”. he threw the clothes inside her ajar door, then lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. she audibly gasped as she felt his tongue upon her already soaking pussy.

“aegon…ah!” her hand gripped his hair as his tongue played tricks on her core, her eyes rolling back till she could see stars. his grip on her thigh remained firm, and she was certain she would be waking up with a bruise. “close… so…close…” she had begun to say after a few minutes, feeling her muscles tense, when he stopped.

he stood up and started to undo his pants, freeing his length. he grabbed her by the waist, letting the tip of his cock tease her folds. she was already moaning for him, “want me to take you right here? make you scream my name, till your neighbours come checking?” she swallowed at the thought, lust overtaking her eyes.

“let’s do one thing.” he smiled as if he’d struck upon the most perfect idea, but the gleam in his eyes told y/n it couldn’t be anything good. he turned her around by her waist, hand coming to her front to rub her clit as he whispered in her ear, “you see that door?”. she knew he could only mean the door to the elevator which was the way to enter her dormitory floor. she managed a nod in response, unable to form words as his fingers pressed down on her so ruthlessly. “keep looking at it.” he commanded as he grabbed her hips back to push his cock inside her. “aegon!” she gasped at the feeling.

he entered her completely in one go, pulling out punishingly slow before pushing back in. he continued speaking as he impaled her, “someone’s gonna walk in any moment now…” he teased, “…and see you in this mess… see you bent over, taking me from behind…like a whore” the thought embarrassed her, yes, but what embarrassed her more was that she found herself almost wanting it to come true.

“even when they walk in, i won’t stop.” he threatned, his thrusts becoming faster. “you’ll be on display for everyone to see… to see how well you take my cock.”  he gathered her hair in his fist in one hand, and she felt him pulling it lightly. “yes, oh, yes!” she found herself moaning, eyes intently trained on the door. “you’d like that? of course, you would, little slut.” she only whimpered in response, his words bringing her closer and closer to her edge. “you’d love to have everyone see just how well you receive a ‘booty call’” he chuckled. she could feel herself going weak at the knees at his pace and dirty talk.

“aegon… i—ah!” pleasure spread over every inch of her body, as she came all over his cock. he continued to thrust into her, chasing his own orgasm, until he emptied inside of her with a grunt.

her legs felt wobbly as he pulled out of her, turning her back around to face him. “next time i call—” he panted as he spoke, exerted from their activities, “—pick up.” she smirked, in contrast to his dominating actions mere moments ago, his words now sounded more like a pleading request; one she felt gracious enough to grant him as his juice and her own dripped down her legs. “i will. promise.”

his pearly white teeth showed as he grinned at her response, pleased. “oh, but i’m not nearly done with you for the night, just yet.” he lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. he shut the door behind them as he walked back inside her dorm.

the next morning, she didn’t kick him out like the last time. she let him linger around her bed, aegon placing a trail of kisses down her body as a manner of greeting her good morning. he was needy and showed it by being as tactile with her as could be. yet she felt comfortable with his touches, allowing herself to lie with him for hours, their legs tangled. even as she bid him goodbye from her door, she had to practically tear her lips off his, neither able to get enough of the other.

she felt content as she’d shut her door behind her, leaning against it as she thought back to the night that had passed, when her phone started to ring. she picked it and smiled as she saw the name being displayed, ‘aegon (don’t pick up)’.

 “see i am the type who calls. a lot” she laughed at his words through the phone, able to hear him standing right outside the door. “and also the type who does breakfast. what do you say, brunch in an hour?”

[shu-porang-porang]

Told You So

Another fluff rant inspired by Minho’s photos but there are no names mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want.

Pairs: (your bias name) / reader (gender not specified)

Theme: Tooth rotting fluff

Warnings: I don't think there's any, but let me know if I should include sth

Word count: 0.9 k

You warned him that it was really cold outside, but your cocky boyfriend believed too much in his invincibility that he shrugged it off with a “I’ll be fine babe” as he closed the door behind him.

Not long after the consequences of his action caught up with him and now he’s mewling in fever. You really wanna tease him with a “told you so” but he already knew he deserves that phrase and it was evident as he obediently accepted to visit a doctor, of course as long as you accompanied him.

You come back from the doctor’s office with medicine and groceries you picked up on the way home. He sits down on the edge of your shared bed, reluctant to change his clothes. You can’t see his lips behind the mask but the rest of his face tells you he’s pouting. He’s such a baby when he gets sick, so you offer to help him change. You take his hat off and unwrap the scarf from around his neck, then unzip his jacket and pull the sleeves off his arms. You bring him a warm comfy set of pajamas and help him into it. You reach to take his mask off too but he stops you.

“No, leave it be. Don’t wanna get you sick.”

“Oh it’s fine, you had the germs before the symptoms showed up. I either already got them or am immune to them.”

You tell him half-jokingly, trying to make him feel less guilty but he wouldn’t budge. You shrug and turn to go cook him some soup. He tugs at your sleeve, preventing you to leave.

“Don’t leave me, please.” He whines.

“Honey, I’m not going anywhere, just wanna cook you some soup so you’ll get healthy faster!”

You internally laugh at how you’re talking to him as if he’s a child, and how he is acting like a child.

“Then I’ll come with you.”

“Okay? Suit yourself.”

He follows you to the kitchen. All the while you’re cooking, he’s lifelessly sitting on a chair, with his head on the table, following your actions silently with his eyes. You occasionally ask him how he’s feeling, or if he wants some juice to which he replies with barely audible hums. His throat is sore so he’s trying to use it as little as possible. When you’re done with preparing the ingredients and now you just gotta wait till it's ready, you sit beside him, holding his hand in yours. He seems so fragile and feeble in this state.

“Jagya, why won’t you take a lil’ nap till the soup is ready? I can see your eyes are pretty tired.” You say as you place soft kisses on his knuckles. You reach with your free hand to brush through his locks, he closes his eyes as it soothes him.

“Only if you come with me to bed.” His voice already sounds sleepy.

“Okay baby, let’s go.” you can't help but comply with your needy boyfriend.

He gets up and immediately holds onto you for balance, his head is so fuzzy with fever his movements are uncoordinated. You’re starting to worry about his condition. At first you thought he was acting too sick to get pampered by you, but now you’re realizing he is indeed fatigued and helpless. You help him to the bed and tuck him in, then lie beside him on your side, your eyes fixed on his face in search of any sign of discomfort.

“Why you staring like that? I’m just sick, not dying.”

And that’s the first time in your relationship with him that you think of losing him to death. Your eyes are quickly welled up by stinging tears. You don’t want to stress him so you slide down and press your forehead to the side of his arm, so he can’t see your eyes, while trying to blink the tears away.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just thought you might fall asleep easier if I get closer to you…” you say as you entangle your fingers with his.

“I’d love that, but you get sick, move.”

“I’d love that, but I’m only moving closer.”

You lift your head up, catching his baffled expression. He watches you as you plant kisses on his clothed chest, going up to his collar bone and then neck. He tries to push you away but you easily overcome his weak resistance. He holds his hand up before his face, but that doesn’t stop you either. You kiss his palm, then the soft pads of his fingers and he finally gives up. You kiss his forehead and you sense his fever has lowered compared to a few hours ago.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I wanna kiss them too.”

“Don’t be weird!” he chuckles lightly.

“I’m not being weird; it’s called showing affection silly! Has no one ever loved you before?”

“Not like this…”

He closes his eyes as requested and you can eventually kiss them. You move on to kiss his cheeks next and when the annoying mask gets in your way, you don’t hesitate to finally remove it. He knows he can’t win with you, so he just lets you do as you wish. You kiss his soft cheeks; his skin feels more tender and you treat it like it’s made of glass. You can’t resist to kiss his lips, why would you, whatever he has, you have, you can’t care. Worst case scenario, he’ll later tell you “told you so”.

[rosemaze-reveries]

During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you. (Part 2)

hello hello! here is part 2 as promised. there are less characters than I hoped to write, but in exchange each blurb is a little longer than pt.1 !

part 1 can be found here

🦌🪼🤡🦎🪞🤕🕯️🎭

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🦌 Bane rubs his chin, tracing his memory. "Hm... Indeed, I'm familiar with that name. I'd suppose that's someone I knew when I worked for the DeRosses." He crosses his arms with a low, contemplative grunt, as if struggling to remember anything else. "I'd need a photograph." I happen to have a couple on hand, and he takes them gently. A long period of silence follows. After leafing through the photos for some time, he says: "I remember. They were always talking about marriage." With you? "Mm. I was never interested, but I never said no. Eventually I made them a ring from a scrap of iron. I hoped they'd stop visiting me if I satisfied them... It's too dangerous to come to the forest everyday." Then he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring of his own. "In exchange, they gave one back." He's been cherishing it all this time, even when he'd forgotten its origin.

🪼 Ivy - "I'm no stranger to feeling like I'm missing my other half, you know. That sense of loss is one of the only constants I have left. (Y/N) fills my emptiness, and without them it increases twofold." I open my mouth to ask, Do you think you could be soulmates? but then my eyes dart to the Yithian and I realize my mistake. Sorry, was that insensitive? Ivy is not amused with my implication that she might be interested in claiming (Y/N)'s soul. "My dear interviewer, I am a scholar, not a monster. Whatever you're insinuating, you're gravely mistaken."

🤡 Joker's face suddenly hardens, in spite of the fragile, twiddling-thumbs demeanor he'd shown me thus far. His hands ball into shaking fists and his lips purse, as if he's psyching himself up for a fight. Are you okay? I ask, preemptively guarding myself with my clipboard. Tears brim his eyes and the strength falls from his shoulders. He mutters out, "All I wanted was to be their sword and shield, their angel of light, and they left me out of my mind. Hahaha... Wanna know the biggest joke of all? I'd let them drive me crazy all over again."

🦎 Luchino's mouth stretches into a lazy grin. "That one's a cutie, eh? Had the pleasure of meeting them yet?" I shake my head, reminding him that (Y/N) is the focus of my current investigation. I guess his laidback attitude fooled me into saying too much. He promptly straightens his back, the smile fading. "Yeah... Yeah, from one researcher to another, I get the intrigue," he says. "But I can't say I fancy another guy using my love as a test subject."

🪞 Mary - "Do you take pleasure in nosing around a lady's private affairs? I'd expect more tact, even for an interviewer." The chill in her tone startles me. I sputter out something in my defense, but Mary huffs and waves me into silence. "(Y/N) is enjoying the privilege of being my right-hand. They're my favorite one so far, too. I dismissed the others without a second thought."

🤕 Naib - "On good terms." Wringing out any insightful answers from this man is tougher than I thought. In hopes of inspiring more of a reaction, I tell a small lie: When I interviewed (Y/N), they described a rather colorful affection for you... Almost immediately, Naib breaks eye contact and crosses his arms. But I still only get a guttural "Hm." in response. Can you confirm if this is true? I press. His answer is, once again, a curt "Hm." (Slightly more affirmative, I would say).

🕯️ Philippe - "My work has always stood as a testament to my love," he caresses the wax figure grafted onto his shoulder, "but shielding someone in life is a far greater challenge than honoring my losses. My worries are endless." Suddenly reminded of his sister's tragedy, I offer a sympathetic smile. Do you believe (Y/N) is in danger? Philippe returns my smile, though I can't make out the intent. "Of course. Evil lurks around every corner. At the very least, it won't reach them while I'm around."

🎭 Sangria - A fond smile graces her face as she recounts her memory. "It was clear to me after some time that I had disastrously entranced them." Then she adds, lightly, "I hadn't meant to, of course. At the time, I thought, I'm not looking for love—no, I'd had enough of it all—but soon, their smile would appear in my mind every time I sang. When someone gives you that much inspiration? You'd be a fool to let them go." She has a playful tone of voice, but I can tell (Y/N) means a great deal to her.

[stinkyme]

Hello! I won't explain myself, yall should've seen it coming at this point 💆🏻‍♀️ I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)

CW/TW: NSFW (mdni), fem!reader, hate sex, reader is Fyodor's subordinate, mutual degrading (dumb slut, bitch, crybaby, etc), usage of (little) girl & she/her pronouns, reader slaps Fyodor, dacryphilia (both), riding, reader teasing Fyodor's mommy issues ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯, oral fixation (?), mentions of blood and marks, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :) and sorry if this sucks, I haven't been very inspired + got a bit rusty me thinks :/ sorry if you dislike it!

Hate Sex || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

You aren't entirely sure when exactly you started sleeping with Fyodor. Sleeping is probably a soft word to use, better way to put it is - you aren't sure when you became his little sex toy.

Perhaps in-between endless, to you - quite boring assignments and missions he was giving you, he decided to make a full use out of you to which you compiled as a good little subordinate you were. Which, by the way, he would disagree with.

He always had a snarky comment to make, not praising you once, not thanking you once for sticking by his side for so long and flawlessly executing all of his desires.

Without questioning his reasoning, without asking for details - you were a perfect weapon, a perfect executor. Unlike Fyodor, who was far away from a perfect superior, treating you like you were nothing but one of the mere useless pawns he was using as he pleased. You would lie if you said it didn't hurt your ego or that it wasn't pissing you off each time his eyes would look at you with disinterested, even bored gaze after you give details of everything you executed perfectly. Waving his hand at you in a lazy manner as he turns on his chair, not giving you a benefit of a simple praise, a simple acknowledgment of your hard work.

His treatment towards you was beyond unfair, as if he was holding all those useless idiots above you. It was annoying, humiliating and it made your blood boil. There was not a single way to hurt Fyodor, you knew that, but you were also the only person who had him in one of his most vulnerable states.

So, why not use that to your advantage and let out some pent up stress you were experiencing?

"I completed the mission perfectly. Again." you say in a stern tone, slightly sighing as you close the door behind you. 

"Is that so?" Fyodor doesn't give you even a proper moment of his attention, voice distant as his gaze remains on the paper he was holding. You silently click your tongue, but quickly compose yourself as you walk up to his desk, eyes swiftly scanning over the paper in his hand.

"Indeed it-"

"Bring me a cup of tea since you are back." he cuts you off in a beat, that familiar feeling of humiliation settling in your tummy again. You remain still, gaze evidently displeased with his request.

There is a prolonged moment of silence, a thick layer of tension filling up the distance between the two of you. Finally, Fyodor looks up, gaze switching from disinterest to slight irritation upon meeting yours that was holding evident annoyance. He drops the paper, fingers elegantly colliding together, hiding his lips.

"Is there an issue with my request?" he says in a serious tone, the usual silkiness of his voice getting lost. His gaze is sharp, shamelessly piercing through yours. You feel your whole body burning, breath short as your remaining dignity gets ruined by him, once again. However, you decide to swallow your pride this time, once more.

"No, sir. I will be back in a couple of minutes." you say sternly as you turn on your heel, closing your eyes once he can't see them anymore, anger boiling inside your tummy.

Your hand reaches the doorknob when Fyodor stops you in your tracks.

"Take your time." 

There is a split second of initial confusion.

"Wash yourself up first, I can't have you walking around looking like that. Dirty and unpresentable." 

You hear a rustle of papers as you shoot him a cold gaze, the one he doesn't return, too busy with work. As always.

"I thought you liked the taste of blood." you make a dirty remark, lips slightly curling as shameless pride fills you up. Fyodor glances sharply in your direction, sucking his cheeks in, his very discreet way of showing annoyance, but you notice. You hum as the feeling of pride overwhelms you, another remark leaving your lips quickly.

"One more thing." 

You pause for a moment, noticing that his gaze slightly softens.

"When you make a request, you usually use the word please. Just for the future reference." 

Your face molds from a sly expression to an irritated one, voice sharp. You quickly open the door, not giving him any time to answer you, enjoying the feeling of victory. It's not the full experience you desire, but it will make you satisfied for now.

There are so many more ways you wish to use in order to humiliate him and ruin that disgusting demeanor of his.

Lucky or unlucky for you, either way, Fyodor shared the exact same feelings towards you. 

Which is why you got an invitation to his room tonight - to fulfill another of your endless, unappreciated duties and ease up his pent up irritation. 

Couple of hours later, you find yourself greedily kissing Fyodor, hands gently pulling on his purple locks. He carefully sucks on your bottom lip, letting his tongue slide over it in a teasing manner. Your hands sneak underneath his thin shirt, fingertips messily exploring his lanky body. He lets out a mellow whimper as his tongue finds yours, sound getting muffled by the kiss. 

Foreplay with Fyodor was different than his usual self.

He wasn't the most loving, evidently, but he was holding a certain tenderness during it. That's truly the only part of his that you were looking forward to. The vulnerable, whiny Fyodor that only you get to see. That only you get to ruin. 

He swiftly slides his thumbs between your panties and hips, greedily rolling them down your thighs as you undo your bra, allowing him to softly kiss your chest area as the bra falls down your arms. Your hands move to take off his boxers, his hard, needily dripping cock softly pressing into your tummy as his hands pull on your hips, fingernails slightly digging into your skin.

Quickly enough, you find yourself on top of him - as always. He leans his back against the bed frame, hands falling on your hips, fingers shakily pressing into your skin, needy for you to pleasure him. With a slight dissatisfaction in your eyes, you look down on him for a few moments. In those few moments you let all of your anger and hatred towards him settle inside your body, a burning sensation of a desire to humiliate him like no one did before swirling inside your tummy.

You align your dripping cunt with the tip of his cock and slowly move your hips down, each inch stretching you out more and bringing soft moans out both of your throats. Your ass reaches his thighs and you remain still for a moment, purposefully clenching around him, receiving a breathy moan of his in response. You give him a sly smile as your hands rest on his trapeziuses, fingernails slightly digging into the cold flesh as you start moving your hips up and down, in an agonizingly slow manner.

Fyodor keeps his gaze on you, there is a lingering anger behind his eyes, even though mellow whimpers escape his parted lips. You let out a mellow moan each time you slide completely on his cock, its tip reaching the deepest spot inside of you. You remain at your pace, slow and teasing, not taking your eyes off of him. His fingernails dig deeper into your hips, squeezing a light gasp out of your lungs as he kneads on your skin roughly.

"Go faster." he orders, voice cold but quieter. You smile, bending your knees and adjusting yourself into a frog-like position. His face softens at that, he loved when people were obedient to his orders. You lift your hips up, letting only the tip of his cock remain in your needy cunt, holding it like that for a moment, letting the anticipation build up.

Fyodor's lips part in expectation of a heavy thrust, but he only receives a slow slide down on his cock, a sly smile curling on your lips.

"I prefer it like this." you say in a playful tone as you slowly move your thighs and hips up and down, occasionally clenching around his pathetic cock. He lets out a soft grunt, either from dissatisfaction or pleasure - perhaps both. He digs his fingernails more into your skin, receiving a sharp gasp of yours as the burning sensation tingles under your almost ripped skin.

"I said go faster." he says in a cold, almost threatening tone, as his fingernails keep on digging into your skin. You let out a yelp, but keep your pace slow and teasing. There is an evident anger and frustration lingering in your gaze, chest shaky with a desire to hurt him. However, you keep your composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling you up.

"Only if you say please." you force a teasing smile, pussy clenching around his tip before you slide down in an even slower manner. His grip on your hips becomes painful, a sharp gasp escaping your throat in response as your hands fall onto his wrists. You barely pull his hands away and keep them on the sides, meeting his anger filled gaze, returning the same treatment.

"Say please." your voice is more stern as you keep slowly sliding up and down on his cock, suppressing your own moans each time it rubs over your sweetest spots. Fyodor remains silent, lips parted in pleasure that he was trying to hold back as your grip on his wrists tightens.

"Do you need me to spell it out for you?" you ask in a sharper tone as you let yourself remain still, sitting on top of him as his cock reaches the deepest parts of you.

There was something challenging, dark in his eyes as he finally replies.

"Who do you think you are to order me around? Should I remind you of who you are?" his voice is cold, but his cock slightly twitches inside your warm, dripping cunt as you remain still. Your lips become shaky, grip on his wrists loosening as your tummy burns in a mixture of annoyance and anxiety. He moves his hands away from yours, letting one of them fall on your waist as the other one cups your cheek, thumb drawing small circles on your skin.

"You are a dumb little slut." he says in a condescending tone, a sly smile on his face, but slowly his annoyance takes over him as he finally lets his thoughts out.

"A dumb little slut who is good for nothing but my cock. And can't even do that properly." he spats out, voice becoming more filled with hatred.

"A dumb little slut who thinks she has any say in how I will behave. A dumb little bitch who thinks she can tell me what to do." his voice grows more deep, more annoyed, more everything.

"Disrespectful senseless little girl who expects praise every time she does her job. Is that why you behave like a desperate whore every time you finish a mission?" he continues, his thumb gently caressing your burning cheek. Bitter tears slightly cloud your vision, all the hatred melting away as he continues talking. Your pussy clenches around his cock regardless of your emotions, a soft breath getting stuck in your throat.

"You want me to call you a good girl? Is that what you clench around me for?" he asks in a lower, more gentle tone, eyebrows slightly rising at your pitiful state. You bite your bottom lip, reverting your gaze away from him for a moment. He chuckles, cold thumb delicately wiping away the small tear that was rolling down your cheek.

"Remember that awful feeling, that's what you get for disobeying me. And girls who disobey me don't get to be called good for it." he continues in a silky tone, moving his hand away from your cheek and letting it fall on your bruised hip as his face softens in the feeling of victory.

His gaze remains on your mocking-worthy expression, a soft curl of his lips revealing amusement and satisfaction he was feeling. You let the feeling of defeat and humiliation spread inside your body for just a moment before you compose yourself. Your gaze pierces through him, eyebrows furrowing in faint disgust and frustration as his words repeat in your head.

You hate to admit the fact that his nasty insults make your pussy leak even more precum than before mixed with the pure desire to punish him for it. Almost mindlessly, you start bouncing on his cock in a fast, greedy manner, receiving sharp gasps of his in response. Your hand sneaks into his hair, fingers roughly pulling on his locks and forcefully pulling his head back.

A strained moan escapes your throat as you keep on moving up and down, each full thrust making your head spin as his cock pressures all of your overly sensitive spots. His fingers shakily grab on your skin, unable to make a proper grip as your ass keeps slamming on his thighs in a rough manner. He lets out breathy whimpers as your cunt keeps on sliding over his needy cock, thighs bruising from the force you were riding him with. You swallow your own moans, only a few short whines escaping your lungs as you pull his hair more, exposing his pale neck.

Your gaze falls on how the muscles of his throat strain with each sound he makes before it moves to look him into his pathetic, half-lidded eyes.

"Yeah? You want to know what you are?" you speak in a breathy, heavy manner as you keep on bouncing on his cock. You don't feel a single thing besides anger and the fast pleasure building inside your lower tummy each time he reaches your g-spot. Your hand wraps around his throat, thumb pushing his chin back as your grip on his hair tightens.

"You are my dumb little toy. Just look at yourself, getting used by me like a personal dildo." you let out a strained chuckle as you switch your movement from bouncing to grinding, your hips making quick and heavy rolls on his cock.

You let out a sharp moan as his cock perfectly pressures your sweetest spots. Fyodor lets out a mixture of strained whimpers and grunts of disagreement, clawing his way into your outer thighs. With the way your hands roughly keep him in place it's hard to speak, but you can see an obvious anger breaking through his pleasure-filled eyes.

"You are my slut. You are a dumb little manwhore who needs me. You need my pussy, don't you?" your voice is firm even though faint whimpers fill in the gaps between your words.

You let go of his hair, but your hand remains on his jaw, firmly keeping it in place as you force him to look at you. You speed up the movement of your hips, not letting the soreness of your muscles get in the way.

"Tell me. You need it, don't you? You are a pathetic creature, can't even get off without me." you chuckle as your hand slides away from his jaw, down to his throat. You wrap your hand tightly, resulting in Fyodor's eyes to roll back, heavy whimpers slipping his parted lips alongside a small amount of drool.

He shuts his eyes closed, trying to regain some strength as his fingernails leave deep marks in your skin, making it burn and ache. His cock twitches inside of you, pulsating heavily as your needy and fast grinds become unbearable for both of you. Fyodor's fingernails dig even deeper into your skin as your grip on his throat tightens, a quick gasp escaping your lips as the pain becomes sharp and unbearable. Without a thought, your free hand lands a heavy slap on his cheek, making his head turn as your grip on his throat loosens, hand falling next to your body.

He gives you a frustrated look, lips immediately finding your nipple as he begins sucking roughly on it, almost mindlessly. You let out a sharp moan, throwing your head back as your pussy keeps sliding on his throbbing cock, sending shivers up your spine. 

"Yeah? Is that how your mommy used to do it? Slap you around and then give you a nipple to play with?" you give him a breathless laugh before a heavy moan cuts you off as he bites on your nipple in a harsh manner. His fingernails dig deeper into your skin, a small amount of blood rolling down the flesh of your thighs.

"Fuck!" you almost scream out as you throw your head back, both of your hands falling on and tightly squeezing his bicepses as your pace on his cock remains the same. Your cunt starts to clench and pulsate around his leaking cock, heat beneath your skin tingling in a pleasurable manner.

Fyodor keeps on sucking on your nipple, a bit gentler than before, his eyes surprisingly tearing up. He lets out soft snivels and whimpers, hot breath heating up your flesh even more as his tongue relentlessly slides over your nipple. You bring one of your hands to his cheek, rubbing soft circles in a condescending manner - just like he did to you. You regain your focus, even though the heat that keeps on swirling inside your whole body makes it quite hard.

"Ah, don't be a crybaby now. Nobody likes little dumb bitch boys who cry during sex." you say in a teasing tone, wanting to degrade him more, but he starts rolling his hips into yours, barely but enough to make you lightheaded as his cock pressures your sensitive spots more.

He lets go of your practically bruised nipple, mumbling something as he messily moves to your other one and begins sucking on it in a greedy manner. You let out louder moans as your hips keep on rolling into his, your precum leaking and spreading all over his balls. The pain in your thighs from riding him for so long and from the fact he made you bleed becomes overwhelming, but the knot inside your lower tummy urges you to suck it up.

His cock reaches the deepest spots inside of you, perfectly rubbing over your g-spot and making you beyond dizzy as your orgasm slowly approaches. Your cunt keeps involuntarily clenching and relaxing around him each time he makes a harsher suck on your nipple, sending jolts through your whole body. You let out sharp moans and gasps as Fyodor pants into your skin in-between the heavy sucks, his cock throbbing inside your leaking cunt.

You curse under your breath as the knot inside your lower tummy starts slowly unraveling, first waves of your orgasm making your thighs shake. He barely lets go of your nipple, panting and whining in a desperate manner, eyes heavy as you fuck his brain out using only your hips. Your chest feels heavy as your breathing becomes incoherent, loud gasps in and out occupying your throat as your orgasm finally unravels.

Your whole body shakes as you squirt all over his cock and balls, making his own body shake as he gets close to his own climax. The pace of your hips becomes messy, the pain finally settling in and making it hard to move as the jolts of the peak of your orgasm rush through your body. Fyodor's hands fall onto your hips, desperately trying to hold you down as pathetic whines escape his dry throat. You swiftly lift yourself away from his cock and he gasps loudly, whole body shaking as a tiny load of cum drips out of the tip of his cock and slides down his length.

He lets out shaky pants and whines, clawing into his own thighs as his release gets ruined. You quickly put on a shirt, your breathing still incoherent and heavy as you slowly stand up, pulling your panties up.

Fyodor gives you a mixture of a needy, desperate, irritated and pathetic gaze, his cock softening and twitching as your combined releases slide down his balls. He remains silent, but he brings his semi-bloody fingers close to his lips, the tip of his tongue gently licking them. You give him a dirty look, a sly smile forming on your face. 

"Remember that awful feeling. That's what disobedient, disrespectful and badly behaved boys deserve." you say in a bitter tone as you pull up your pants, letting out a small yelp as it rubs over the bloody scars on your thighs. 

You leave his room, letting the lovely feeling of humiliating him overflow inside of you.

You won...this time, that is.

[nickfowlerrr]

all i want

pairing: andy barber x curvy!reader

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only. cockwarming. little tiny bit of teasing. liiiittle bit of a daddy kink.

notes: shockingly enough, this was meant to be a drabble. it very much is not. enjoy!

inspired by this txt post, this is one of seven characters i’m writing this prompt of sorts for. thank you in advance for reading and as always, reblogs and comments and welcome and so appreciated.

It’s all perfectly innocent to start the night, really it is. Your yearly tradition of watching Miracle on 34th Street after trimming the tree is one that neither of you would want to skip out on. And so far this season, between the trial that has had Andy so stressed and your long shifts at the hospital, there has been quite a bit you’ve ended up skipping.

You paid to have the Christmas lights strung up instead of decorating yourselves, the Christmas tree this year came from the grocery store parking lot Andy passed on his way home yesterday instead of the tree farm you always went to to chop down your own, and your annual Christmas Eve party is a no go this year, too. You’re both too busy, too stressed, too tired.

Andy sits on the couch, getting the movie ready to play, while you’re in the kitchen. You slide the bowl of cookie dough you whipped up into the fridge to chill for an hour or two before baking right as the kettle begins to whistle.

You walk back over to the stove, moving it off the burner before carefully pouring the boiling water into the waiting mugs of coco powder.

“Andy, do you want marshmallows?” you call, knowing your voice will carry into the next room. You stir the powder as you wait for his response, plopping a few mini marshmallows into your mug before your face scrunches up a bit. You turn, ready to peek into the living room to repeat yourself, and jump a bit as you’re met with Andy leaning in the doorway.

His arms are crossed over his chest and you are momentarily distracted by how big his arms look in his sweater. You know it’s soft and you can’t wait to cuddle into him and finally have a chance to relax while you watch the movie.

Your eyes flit to his and then you finally see the look of incredulity on his handsome, bearded face. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he speaks before you can.

“Did you just call me Andy?” he asked, sounding disgusted and a little distraught.

You gape a moment, thinking back to what it was you said, and almost immediately realize that you indeed did. You flounder for only a second before shaking your head, “No,” you lie, “I dont think so.”

“Yes,” he states, pushing off the doorframe and starting toward you, “you did.”

You back up, bumping into the counter behind you as he stalks closer. You fight your smile as a thrill runs through you when he cages you in, his arms either side of you as he stands right before you. He leaves almost no space between you and you can see in his eyes what you’re sure he can see in yours.

Longing, desire, and maybe just a hint of desperation…

It’s been two weeks since you have had anything close to alone time together. Your shifts have been all over the place and you’re either heading to work as Andy is coming home, or leaving just as he gets up to start getting ready for his day. Even your weekends have been taken over. Andy has been working nonstop, but you both promised each other that this weekend would be just for you two. No work, no parties, no distractions. The closest thing to intimate you’ve gotten in two weeks has been your parting kisses. You’ve only shared the bed a few days this past week and you’ve both been so exhausted that the furthest you’ve gotten has been cuddling.

So right here and now, that look in his eyes, you know you’re both thinking about the same thing.

“I’m sorry,” you offer in your attempt to appease him.

“You’re sorry …,” he prompts, waiting for you to address him.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you press against him, a smile playing on your lips. “Babe…honey…love,” you continue with the pet names, your fingers dancing across his sweater clad chest before you lean in real close, your lips against his ear before you whisper breathily, “Daddy.”

The sharp breath he takes at the title has you biting your lip to stop the smirk threatening to break out.

You let a hand come up, squeezing the back of his neck gently before your fingers find his hair, almost playing with it as you massage his neck a bit. Andy drops his head as his eyes close under your touch, pressing you back against the counter as he leans into you. He lets out a heavy sigh as your other hand comes up to cup his cheek.

“You’re so tense,” you say, leaning in to kiss him softly. He returns the kiss, his arms coming closer and wrapping around you, pulling you flush to him.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against your lips, your noses brushing.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you kiss him gently once more before letting him go, turning back around to the mugs of coco waiting for you.

Andy doesn’t let you go, just watches as you finish making the cups.

You lean your head back, “marshmallows?” you ask again, earning a smile and a nod from him.

-

The still warm mugs of hot chocolate are on the coffee table before you as you snuggle into Andy.

That tingle you got earlier in the kitchen still hasn’t gone away as you hug Andy, his arm holding you to him in turn.

You don’t want to force anything. You’re both tired, that’s obvious, but god, you miss him. All of him.

You don’t even really want to have sex right now, you just want to be closer. You need him closer.

His eyes are open but you can see the exhaustion in the slightest squint of his eyes as he watches the screen. You lean up, pressing your lips delicately against his exposed throat, once, twice, three times as you work your way up.

“Mmm,” he breathes deeply, holding back a moan under your attention. “Baby,” he warns.

“I know,” you say, a hand rising to stroke his hair as you sit up and move into his lap. “I know, I’m tired, too. We don’t have to do anything,” you let your head rest against his, your noses brushing once more, “I just… I just want to feel you,” you speak so quietly but he can hear the plea in your voice and it squeezes his chest. And he can’t lie and say that the desperation he hears isn’t turning him on a bit, either.

If you want to feel him, he’ll make sure you feel him.

Your hands are lightly in his hair, holding his head as you lean in to kiss him. One kiss, you breathe into him as you pause against each others lips, then another, and another, before your tongue licks into his mouth. He sucks on you lightly before his tongue takes over, his effortless dominance always winning out.

You can feel him growing beneath you and you feel yourself growing slicker in turn.

You pull away from his kiss reluctantly to stand and rid yourself of your pajama pants, while he drags his sweats down. His cock is hard and you inhale sharply at the sight. It’s only been two weeks but you’d almost forgotten just how big he really is.

You hold his shoulder, his hands coming to your chubby waist as you come back to your spot on his lap. You’re on your knees, straddling him as you position yourself above him. One of his hands comes to his cock, the other sliding down your curves as he grips your hip.

He moves his dick up and down your pussy, playing with your wetness as your eyes shut in delight at the feeling, your hands squeezing his shoulders.

He gets himself wet with your slick before he lines the head of his cock up to your entrance. His hand on your hip urges you down, and you slowly sink onto his thick length. You moan in unison as you take him in, a “fuck” leaving Andy’s lips when the first inch of him was finally inside of you.

His hand is holding you, his thumb rubbing the soft, blemished skin of your hip as he urges you to take more of him with his sweet praises.

“You take me so well, baby. Just a little bit more, I know you can do it. Doing so good, sweetheart. Always so fucking good,” he full on moans the last few words as you sit fully on his strong lap with a whimper. He’s seated completely inside of you as you bury your head in his neck.

You feel his lips as he kisses your head, his hand rubbing your back soothingly while the other lightly kneads your thick thigh.

You sigh heavily, relaxing into him as you rest your head against his chest, your velvety walls squeezing his cock of their own volition every so often, earning moans from both of you as he keeps you full of him, the movie still playing as you try to focus on that instead.

But you’re so tired, and so content in Andy’s hold, the pleasure and closeness enough to lull you asleep, you do just that. The cookies can wait until tomorrow.

Andy is smiling to himself as he holds you, he hasn’t been this relaxed since before the start of his current trial. Because with you this close, he’s calm and more than content. This is what he’s been needing. You.

He tenses just a little when your walls squeeze him again, a soft moan slipping past your lips. He moans quietly in turn, still holding you tight.

A moment passes and he has to laugh at the soft snore that leaves you next. He doesn’t want to leave your warmth just yet, he wants to feel you - it’s been too long. So he’ll finish the movie and then he’ll bring you to bed. You’ll cuddle and sleep in each other’s embrace, and all the while he’ll be sure to keep you full of him.

And when you wake up in the middle of the night with his cock still inside of you, your wetness leaking out from around his thick length, he won’t mind one bit about getting woken up by you fucking yourself stupid on his cock. He’s all yours, whenever you want him. And he still owes you for your teasing in the kitchen. He’ll make sure to show you exactly just how much Daddy has missed you.

[lordsukunas]

“never back down never what?”

synop. nagi trying to win a plushie at an arcade machine for you.

tags. gn!reader, lots of fluff, established relationship, possibly ooc

note. this is indeed inspired by the l&ds plushies: fleecy + pea pod boat. first time writing for nagi (kunigami is wip), so pls work w/ me. likes n reblogs r always appreciated, n pls leave criticism!! toodles <3

big gray eyes bore into the poor plushie’s skull as nagi’s hand moves the joystick. why is it so stubborn?! these things are supposed to be easy, right?

“seishirou, it’s okay–”

“no.”

he presses the button for what has to be the dozenth time, and the claw lowers itself. it clamps around the sheep’s fluffy cranium, and slowly lifts back up again. c’mon, c’mon, c’mon...

the grip isn’t as good as he thinks it is, though, and right when the claw is near the deposit zone, it falls free from its grip.

“fuck,” nagi mutters, and he rubs at his eyes with the butt of his hand. he has to win this for you, even if it costs him all of his allowance for the month.

you place a gentle hand on his shoulder and offer him a little smile. immediately, determination spreads from his heart and throughout his entire body. if he gets the plushie, you’ll smile even bigger. and nagi really likes watching you smile — it’s pretty.

“you’re gonna end up spending all of your money, babe. we can just come back later.”

“no, i got it.” he fishes more yen out of his pocket and puts it in the coin slot.

the claw machine starts up again, and he navigates the uncooperative claw right back over the sheep. doesn’t it want to go home? it should be tired of sitting there with all the other plushies. he can set it free and give it a brand new parent!

nagi double, triple checks that the claw will securely get the stuffed animal before pressing the button. the claw lowers, okay, grabs the sheep by the head again (a bit more firm this time), okay, goes back up, okay, moves directly over the deposit, okay, and...

the sheep drops down the deposit, and your hand tightens on his shoulder as you squeal. the sheep is finally free from jail!

“you did it!”

pride blooms in his chest. nagi did, in fact, do it. took him a lot of money and way more effort than he would’ve liked, but it’s worth it when you bend down, grab the plush, and beam up at him.

“thank you!!” you push yourself up a bit and press a kiss to his cheek, and his heart stutters. your lips feel amazing on his milky skin, soft and full. “you really didn’t have to keep trying, it would’ve been fine if you gave up.”

hey, wait.

if he wins more plushies, does he get more kisses? does he get to see you squeal and smile and be so full of happiness it could kill a person?

“i, uh... ‘s no big deal.” he rubs the back of his neck, pink tinting the tips of his ears. “you want another one, or...?”

it’s worth a try, right?

your eyes dart over to the pea plushie, and there’s that wanting twinkle in your eyes. but when you look back at him, you shake your head. “no, it’s okay. you’re probably ready to go back home.”

nagi tilts his head. “but i just saw you look at those peas.”

your eyes widen a bit, and you chuckle. “oh, uh... we can always come back, and you already won me one!”

he boops your nose, a slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downward. “don’t lie. i can just win you another one.”

nagi presses a light kiss to the top of your head and digs in his pocket again. i’m definitely gonna be broke after this, he thinks as he pushes the coins into the slot, hearing the now-familiar jingle of the machine.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Kiss, Marry, Kill: Part 2/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which Buggy saves your bacon and you continue to lie to yourself. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Explicit. Word Count: ~2.3k (of 5.3k) Warnings: Canon-typical violence, sexual fantasies, needles.

A/N: I was going to wait a few days to post this, build some anticipation, but y'all thirsty and I am a woman of the people.

---

Does Buggy feel a twinge of regret as he hauls ass out of Arlong Park? Sure, but not out of any sense of honor or decency or whatever. He just wishes he could have seen your lovely face one last time.

And he must have racked up some good karma recently, because he does indeed see your lovely face. It's curled up in a snarl as a fishman bears down upon you, but it's hot in a warrior princess kind of way.

You throw a right hook that collides with the fishman’s jaw, but no dice. He belts you right in the mouth. It lays you flat, but you take it like a champ and pop right back up.

He hates the idea of such a pretty face being marred in such an unfair fight. So he lends a hand.

Detaching said hand, he sends it floating toward the scuffle. A hard pinch on the ass throws the fishman off guard with a yelp.

You see the opening and slam him across the face once, twice, a third time. He collapses to the side. You waste no time jumping atop him, straddling his chest as you wallop his face into hamburger.

Still kinda hot.

Satisfied that he’s unconscious, you climb to your feet, resting your hands on your hips as you catch your breath. You run a hand through your hair, mussing it in a most handsome way.

Buggy saunters up behind you. Not particularly quietly, but you’re so winded you must not notice. He hovers his chin right over your shoulder. “Boo.”

You screech. Loudly. And whirl around and throw a haymaker that he only just catches with his remaining hand.

“Aw, c’mon,” he grumbles. “That any way to treat your coffee soulmate?”

You blink at him. “When’d you— How— What?”

He recalls his other hand. It reattaches with a little flourish. “Saved your life, babe. You're welcome.”

You look around, then frown. You give his chest a weak shove and stumble away. “I gotta… gotta find Usopp…!”

“Up-bup-bup. Not so fast.” He snags you by the back of the shirt and pulls you back. You whine in protest. "You owe me, Miss Sawbones.”

You scowl at him. “I didn’t ask for help.”

“No, but you got it. Which means…” He taps the tip of your nose. “You.” Tap. “Owe.” Tap. “Me.”

“Fine. Whatever. Cash it in later when I’m not in a rush.” You try to run again, and again he snatches you. “What’s your problem?!”

“My problem is that, if everything comes up Buggy, I’m never going to see you shitheels again.” He leans in close enough for his nose to bump yours. “But I don't like having unfinished business.”

Your eyes are so hot that steam might as well be coming out of your ears. “Just tell me what you want and fuck off.”

Finally, just what he wanted to hear. But what to ask for? You most certainly don't have money. And the map's a wash — even if you could get it, all your little friends would beat him black and blue. No, this has to be something that will get under your skin. Pull your pigtails a little. Hurt your pride.

Like a ray of divine inspiration, it hits him. He can't help but grin as he steps towards you. You take a step back. He matches it. Another step. Another. He backs you right into a tree.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing his finger down your jaw to tip your chin up. He pulls out his best imitation of that damn cook. "Give us a kiss, love."

Your face screws up in disgust. You slap his hand and try to jump away, only for him to grab your arm. Swinging you back around, he pulls you flush against him, his free hand on your waist. He revels in your warmth. He missed his body so much.

He puckers his lips. “C'mon, just a little smooch. Won’t even use tongue.”

You yank your arm from his grip and stare up at him. Grabbing him by the collar, you jerk him downwards. He braces himself for a slap. Or maybe a punch. That seems more your style.

But then you yank him forwards and his lips collide with yours and every joint, every tendon, every inch of sinew in his body locks up. It's all he can do not to topple into a thousand parts and pieces.

He's in shock. He never freezes. Not in the middle of a performance, not in the middle of a fight, and certainly not in the process of sweet talking a kiss out of a pretty little thing.

And yet, here he barely stands. Probably because it’s none of those things — there's no one around, the fight's over, and you're not a pretty little thing. You're a very beautiful grown woman.

His heart flutters against his ribs like a starved hummingbird barred from a flower. He wants more. He wants everything. He wants you.

Oh, this isn't good. It's never good when he catches feelings. Especially not this quickly. Never ends well for him.

...but maybe this time...

You pull away with a pop, but your grip on his waistcoat stays strong. Your mouth remains open, and you waggle your lower jaw, running your lip along your bottom teeth. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

He wants to lick them too.

You let out a yip as he swings you down and dips you low, one hand on your neck and the other hooked under your leg. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, twinkling like mischievous little stars.

He dives in for the encore before he can lock up again. Somewhere, some idiot sets off fireworks.

Oh, what a kiss. It’s the kind of kiss they write songs about. The kind that breaks fairy tale curses and turns frogs into princes. The kind that lonely sailors dream of, wishing on shooting stars for someone to love. Someone to laugh with, argue with, cry with, share a treasure with, share a bunk with, share a crown with. Someone to be his and his alone.

And then he feels it. A little nudge against his lips. He pulls away in surprise. “So much for no tongue.”

Smears of red lipstick and flakes of white greasepaint coat your lips. You lick them anyways. “I never agreed to that.” You throw your arms around his neck and force your way inside his mouth.

Now it's the sort of kiss that haunts the dreams of all men. Fiery. Slick. Dexterous. You stroke his teeth and nip his lips and fill his mouth in due measure. He can barely keep up.

The images come unbidden. You, lying across his bed, eyeing him like a tigress eyes her meal. Him, ripping your shirt off to get at those delicious breasts. You, bouncing on his cock, moaning like a whore. Him, flipping you over to fuck you more efficiently. You, begging and whining as you hit your peak. Him, climaxing so hard he sees lightning. You, resting your head against his chest as you drift off to sleep. Him, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair and whispering sweet little things that you won’t remember—

God damn, are all your kisses like this? Is this what you treat every man to? A lightning strike, a cool plunge, a searing brand, all in one? What kind of devil did you make a deal with to be so beguiling?

His head spins like a carousel as you pull away, from either shock or oxygen deprivation. Probably both.

Even more old paint covers your face. And you still don’t care. Your chest heaves and your gaze burns as you lick your chops. 

While his brain processes what just happened, his poor, stupid heart takes the wheel and shoots its shot. “Wanna come with?” he rasps.

The smolder in your eyes snuffs out and your brows scrunch. “Huh?”

“Ditch the punks. Join up with me. It'll be great."

You blink a few times, eyes darting around. “Why?”

Why? A kiss like that and you’re asking why? “Group of weirdos like us could always use haircuts.”

That marvelous sound leaves your lips. First that glorious snnnrrrk and then that clattery laughter. Your face lights up with glee, your pretty teeth on full display. “Sell me on it.”

That’s a good sign. “Your own cabin. An operating theater. More treasure than you can carry and the best barber chair it can buy.”

Your smile grows. You slip a finger below his chin as you gaze up through your eyelashes. “Sweeten the pot.”

Oh, that’s a dangerous look. His mouth starts writing checks his ego certainly won’t let him cash. “Your own act. Your name in lights. And you can kiss me like that whenever you want."

Those eyes turn downright smoky. You say in a low, low voice, "Just kiss you?"

He almost drops you. All the blood rushing to his cheeks stops dead in his arteries. Then it waterfalls all the way back down.

He jerks you upwards and presses his lips to your ear. “I’ll screw you to the wall every night and eat your cunt like a wild dog every morning. How’s that sound?”

A little hiccup of a gasp escapes you. “Sounds— Sounds good to me, Captain.”

He's ready to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour when something whistles through the air above him. He looks up. Pain explodes across his jaw, popping his head off and sending the rest of him sprawling.

It takes him a moment to shake the stars out of his eyes and get the blood back where it belongs. The sniper kid stands a few yards away, quaking in his boots as he loads up his slingshot. Next to him, you scramble to your feet, clutching your makeup-smeared hand.

"Nice timing," you say to Usopp. You pat his shoulder, leaving a streak of white.

“Don’t mention it.” He swallows. "What do we do about him?”

“Iunno. Either kill him or let him buzz off.” You grip your wrist. “Yeow, that hurt…”

Buggy recalls his head to his neck and gives it a good shake. How dare you? How dare you use him like that? Give him feelings only to play with them? What kind of heartless bitch are you?

He's got quite the eloquent insult prepared, but it vanishes as soon as his mouth catches up to his thoughts. “You...!”

He launches his fist at you, but the kid fires off a round from his slingshot. Buggy yelps as a dozen pinpoints of pain pierce his palm, and he recalls it back. There are, in fact, a dozen pins buried deep in his hand. Ow.

He looks up, but the kid is speeding away. You're close behind, but you do glance back. He swears he sees a glint of remorse in your dark eyes, but you're gone moments after.

Alone. Again. After getting his emotions kicked around like a naughty puppy.

Fuck this. Fuck Rubber Boy. Fuck the sniper kid.

And, most of all, fuck you.

—-

You're no good at art, but you're the only person around here with steady hands, a sterile needle, and a willingness to inflict pain. Thus, redoing Nami's tattoo falls to you.

"So how was it?" she asks.

You're so focused on tracing the design onto her arm that you almost don't respond. "Not too bad, if I do say so myself. Might have to adjust the angle."

"Not that. The other thing."

The tangerine connects to the tangerine leaf. The tangerine leaf connects to the pinwheel spoke. “Yes. Of course. The other thing.” 

“Heard you kissed the clown.”

The pinwheel spoke connects to the other spoke aaaand the pen slips from your fingers. Fortunately for you, it doesn’t screw up your careful tracing. “We’re gonna need a new sniper when I’m done keelhauling the old one.”

Nami laughs. It’s not bitter anymore, which you’re thankful for. Girl’s been through a lot. “C’mon, how was it?”

You scoff. “Sudden. Sloppy. Tasted like greasepaint and self-loathing.”

You leave out that you actually like all that. Surprise. Spit. Theatrics and desperation. What can you say? You’re a dumb bitch with a bad taste for pathetic men. You accepted this about yourself a long, long time ago.

If Nami picks up on your deception, she doesn’t let it show. “Thanks for taking one for the team, doc.”

Taking one for the team. Yeah. That’s what it was. A distraction. A diversion. You didn’t manipulate a madman’s feelings for you. He didn’t read you like a giant neon sign. Nor did you feel anything in that kiss. Not in any of them.

Certainly not the first time — that was impulse. Nor the second time — that one was thrust upon you. And the third time — brain was preoccupied with stalling for time so your cooch took over for a moment.

A moment that almost led to you abandoning your friends for a psycho, your conscience reminds you.

You shake the guilt off. “I’m not a doctor,” you mutter, “and let us never speak of this again.”

You swear she stares right into your soul. That she knows what you’ve done. But she nods. “Speak about what?”

It takes a few hours, a few curses, and a few tears, but the tattoo comes out great, if you do say so yourself.

And the entire time, you’re distracted by thoughts of a psycho with a very persuasive tongue.

---

Never had you on my mind

Now you're there all the time

Never knew what I missed until I I kissed ya

---

⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

[adascore]

Out Of The Blue | J. Fleming

pairings: jessie fleming x chelsea!reader

warnings: angst. swearing. crying. jessie’s transfer.

author’s note: inspired by @pixiesfz (fic: moving on) and @jflemings (fic: inevitable), I definitely recommend checking out their versions of the transfer!

masterlist

•••••••

January, 2024

''Yeah, that does sound great. I'll, uh, think about it and call you tomorrow… Okay, thanks… Bye bye.'' Jessie hung up the phone, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She sighed as she glanced back into the living room, her girlfriend sitting on their couch, blissfully unaware of anything.

Y/N wasn't entirely oblivious to Jessie's agent researching new clubs. It had been an ongoing discussion for a while now, fueled by Jessie's frustration with her dwindling game time at Chelsea.

Jessie quietly sat back down on the couch, not wanting to disturb her partner's tv-show.

''Everything okay?'' The Canadian turned her head, finding Y/N's eyes on her.

She nodded, biting her lips. ''Yeah, good… just my agent.'' She replied, trying to mask the turmoil in her voice.

''Any news?'' Y/N asked.

Bless her heart, Jessie thought. Despite not being the biggest fan of no longer getting to be teammates, Y/N had been very supportive of her girlfriend's search, believing her talent was indeed being wasted at Chelsea.

''Uh, nothing new,'' the midfielder lied, ''she's still in talks with a few clubs.''

''Oh, okay.'' The forward smiled, redirecting her focus back to the series she was watching.

Jessie didn't want to lie, she really didn't. However, telling the love of your life that you received a great offer from an American club and that you're really considering it, isn't an easy thing to do. The Canadian tried telling herself she should only tell Y/N when it's official, but Jessie knew from the moment her agent informed her of the option, that this was the right direction for her to go.

Her game time would improve compared to Chelsea's, and Janine and Christine would become her club teammates- she'd be stupid not to accept. But Portland was far from London, and Portland was far away from Y/N, her true home.

She promised herself she would tell her when the time was right, when the offer from the Thorns was official and her future was certain.

''I think she might stay until the end of the season, and then see what her options are.'' Y/N responded to Erin, after the Scot asked about Jessie's future.

Erin nodded. ''Nice, we can give her a proper sendoff then.''

''I'd say a party, but I don't think she would want to be the center of attention.'' Millie chimed in, thinking about how they could celebrate the younger woman's time at Chelsea.

''She'd look more like a tomato than she already does.'' Erin laughed, imagining her fellow midfielder's reaction.

''But it's good that we'll have at least this last season with her. The last match is gonna be emotional, Emma leaving, Jessie leaving…'' Millie said once the laughter had died down.

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yeah, but I just want to see her happy, you know? She loves the team, but, you know, with the game time and everything.''

Both women nodded, understanding Jessie's reasons for wanting to play somewhere else.

''Do you know where she's maybe going?'' Millie asked, curiously.

The younger woman shrugged her shoulders. ''She has plenty of options,'' Y/N grinned proudly, ''I think she's staying in Europe, though- Champions League and all.''

''She's gonna become a rival.'' Erin teased, rubbing her hands together in feigned mischief.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the thought, but the underlying sadness of Jessie's departure lingered in the back of her mind.

''I also see her staying close by, at least near you.'' Millie lightly nudged her teammate's shoulder, sending a wink.

Y/N grinned back, but there was a hint of dejection in her eyes as she glanced at her friends "She's gotta do what's best for her," she said softly, her gaze drifting to the floor, "that's the most important thing.” She murmured.

As Y/N's thoughts lingered on Jessie's impending departure, she was abruptly pulled back to the present by the sound of someone's voice.

''Hey, you're ready to go?'' Jessie asked, her arrival at their table breaking the somber silence that had settled over them.

Amazing timing, Fleming, Y/N thought as her girlfriend approached their table.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jessie, her dejected mood momentarily forgotten as she met her girlfriend's gaze. "Yeah." She replied, her eyes lighting up and a smile gracing her lips.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, their amusement evident as they observed the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor in the presence of her girlfriend.

Y/N got up from her chair. ''See you tomorrow, beautiful ladies.'' She bid her friends goodbye.

''Tomorrow, love birds.'' ''See ya!''

Jessie silently grabbed her partner's bag from the floor, and the pair walked together to the parking lot.

''They're so adorable it makes me sick.'' Erin muttered.

Millie laughed at her teammate. ''I think you might be allergic.''

As they drove out of the Chelsea training complex, a heavy silence enveloped the couple, weighing down the air in the car. Silences weren't necessarily unusual for them, but there was something about this one that had Y/N feeling confused and worried at the same time.

Glancing sideways at Jessie, Y/N noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension etched into the lines of her face. It was clear that something was bothering her, something she was struggling to articulate.

"Hey, Jess," the striker began hesitantly, breaking the uneasy silence that hung between them, "is everything okay?”

Jessie's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she wrestled with her thoughts. ''Yeah, just a bit tired.'' She responded, her voice strained.

Her answer did nothing to soothe her. There was a distance in the Canadian's eyes, a hesitancy in her voice that spoke volumes. "You can talk to me, you know." Y/N said, and she reached out to Jessie's hand.

For a moment, Jessie tensed up at the display of affection. Her breath was caught in her throat as she struggled with what to tell her partner. ''Can we talk about this when we're home? I don't want to have this conversation while I'm driving.'' She asked, momentarily making eye contact with her.

Y/N nodded, though the unease still gnawed at her. "Of course," she replied gently, withdrawing her hand but keeping her gaze fixed on Jessie, "we can talk about it when we get home."

The remainder of the drive passed in an uncomfortable conversation about their thoughts on the training that day.

As they finally pulled into their driveway, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation sending a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She followed Jessie inside, the heavy silence hanging between them like a dense fog.

Once inside, Y/N took a seat on the couch. Her eyes fixed on the midfielder like a hawk as Jessie paced through the room.

Taking a a few deep breaths to ease herself, Jessie finally broke the silence that had enveloped them. "I... I received an offer." She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N perked up at the revelation. ''An offer?'' She repeated. ''That's great, no?'' Her voice tinged with uncertainty.

But as she watched her girlfriend unconsciously shake her head, she knew there was more to the story than Jessie was letting on.

The Canadian hesitated, her gaze shifting to the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "From the Portland Thorns," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible, "they want me to play for them.”

Y/N's heart sank at the news, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. ''Portland?'' She muttered. ''In the U.S.?''

Jessie silently nodded. ''Yeah, the NWSL.'' She confirmed.

Her heart sank even further at the confirmation, the reality of the situation settling in like a heavy weight on her chest. ''Wow… that's, uh, that's amazing- with Janine and Christine, that's really nice, babe.'' She tried to muster a smile, but it felt hollow on her lips.

Despite her attempt to be supportive, the weight of Jessie's decision bore down on Y/N like a heavy burden. The thought of being separated by thousands of miles was something out of a nightmare.

But as she looked at Jessie, her heart ached at the thought of holding her back from pursuing her dreams. She knew that she had to be strong, to support her partner no matter what path she chose.

''Thank you.'' Jessie was unsure of how to proceed, it was clear that her girlfriend wasn't expecting a transfer to the other side of the world. "I... I know this isn't easy," she continued, her voice wavering slightly. "But I have to do what's best for my career.”

Y/N reached out, gently squeezing Jessie's hand. "I know," she replied softly, ''and this is gonna be really good for you.''

''So… you're not upset?''

She shook her head, a forced smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''Of course not. I know you're going to do amazing there, and I'm happy that they are seeing your talent. It's a great club, Jess. And if it means you'll be happier... then I'm all for it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Jessie's eyes as she pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. "I love you." She whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, returning the embrace, ''I think you forgot for a moment that I'm, like, your biggest fan.'' She chuckled, tears forming in her own eyes.

Jessie laughed now as well. "How could I forget?" She echoed, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked at Y/N. "You're the best.”

As the evening wore on, the weight of Jessie's decision lingered in the air, casting a somber mood over the apartment. Despite the reassurances they had exchanged, the reality of the situation still hung heavy on their hearts.

A few days later, the time came for Jessie to face her teammates and share the news of her new club. The staff had gathered the team into the meeting room with the excuse they needed to go over some past matches.

''Before we get into some of the matches, there is someone here who has some news for us,'' Emma began, ''Jessie?'' The coach signaled for the Canadian to take her spot at the front of the room.

The midfielder quietly walked towards Emma. ''Hey, everyone,” she awkwardly greeted the room, "I, uh... I have something I need to tell you.” A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Jessie.

Y/N's eyes became fixed on the floor, not feeling ready to hear this for a second time.

''I've received an offer from the Portland Thorns,” she said, still a bit on edge, ''and… I've decided to accept it. So this is actually my, uh, last day as a Blue.''

"I... I know this might come as a surprise," Jessie continued, her voice faltering. "you guys are an amazing group, and I'm so lucky to have shared the pitch with such incredible players. All of you will always have a special place in my heart, and, yeah, just thank you for everything.'' She finished her small speech, becoming emotional.

She received applause from the squad and staff in the room. Emma was the first to give her a hug. A flicker of irritation flashed through Y/N at the thought of their coach's role in Jessie's decision to leave, but she pushed it aside, knowing that now was not the time.

All the players got up from their seats to say their own ‘thank you's' or give their own hugs to Jessie. However, the young striker remained seated, finding herself unable to follow her teammates.

With a heavy heart, Y/N quietly rose from her seat, her footsteps barely audible as she made her way towards the door.

She felt a hand on her shoulder as she almost went for the door handle. ''You okay?''

Y/N was met with Sam as she turned around, the Australian's face expressing concern over her teammate's exit without having said anything to her girlfriend.

''Yeah, just need the bathroom.'' She replied, quickly.

Sam nodded and let her go, but she was not convinced. The No. 20 shared a look with her captain who had also watched the young woman's escape.

Millie swiftly ruffled the Canadian's hair, before walking over to Sam. ''What was that?''

''I don't know, said she needed the bathroom, but she went before the meeting.'' The experienced striker explained, a furrow in her eyebrows.

''I'll talk to her.'' Turning back to Sam, she offered a reassuring smile before making her way towards the door.

She caught up with Y/N in the hallway, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. "Hey," the Brit said delicately, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "Mind if we chat for a moment?”

Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to meet her older teammate's eyes. "Sure." she replied quietly.

She led the younger one to a more secluded area, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on their more personal moment. Millie's face was full of concern as she turned to her. ''Are you okay? What happened there? Didn't Jessie tell you already?''

''She did, she did… a few days ago.'' She answered, her voice still quiet and full of emotion.

''Then, what's wrong? Why'd you leave?''

Y/N pulled her attention from the ground to Millie's eyes. ''It's just… that, like, it seemed to have only hit me now that she's actually going, you know? She's gonna go to Portland, while I'm staying here in fucking London.''

Millie's expression softened with understanding as she listened to Y/N's words, her heart aching for her younger teammate. ''I get it,'' she put her arm around her, ''it's tough knowing that she'll be so far away, especially when you're used to having her here with you every day.''

The striker nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Yeah," she murmured, ''I'm…'' she trailed off.

''You're what, sweetheart?''

''I'm scared.'' Her voice was small, if her teammate wasn't standing so close to her, she probably would have missed it.

''Of what?'' The captain frowned.

''The distance, I don't think I can handle it, Millie.''

Millie's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N's voice, her own eyes brimming with tears as she wrapped her younger friend in a warm embrace. "I understand," she murmured, offering her a comforting squeeze, "it's okay to be scared. It's a big change. For the both of you.''

Y/N nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she struggled to articulate the depth of her fears. "I... I'm scared of losing her," she admitted softly, ''that she'll forget me while she's there.''

"You won't lose her," she reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity. "Jessie loves you, Y/N. And distance won't change that.”

Y/N sniffled, a small hiccup escaping her as she leaned into Millie's embrace, finding solace in her comforting words. "But what if... what if she meets someone else?" She whispered, her voice tinged with fear.

Millie's grip tightened, her heart breaking at the thought of her friend's pain. "Jessie loves you," she repeated firmly. "And nothing, and I really mean that, nothing will bloody change that.''

''Thanks, Mills.'' Y/N said, her head resting on her shoulder.

''You're welcome, darling. I'm always here for you. And Erin, and Sam, and Guro, Niamh, Z, all of us.'' She reassured her, wanting her to know that they'll stand by her while she goes through this difficult time.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Millie's words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I... I really needed to hear that.”

''Anytime, bubs,'' the defender pecked the top of her head, ''I do think you need to tell Jessie this. It's important for her to know how you feel about all this.''

The younger one nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before pulling away from Millie. "You're right," she agreed, her voice a bit steadier now, ''I'll talk to her about it.''

Millie gave her a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with encouragement. ''Great, she'll understand. It's Jessie, remember?'' She chuckled, trying to get a grin out of her friend.

She was successful as Y/N managed to crack a smile. ''Yeah, it's Jessie,'' she straightened her posture as if ready for battle, ''thanks again, Mills. I really appreciate it.''

The defender nodded, the smile on her own face widening. ''You're very welcome, sweetheart.'' She gave Y/N a small pat on the back.

The next evening, they sat together in their dimly lit living room, trying to watch a movie. Y/N glanced over at Jessie, whose eyes were focused on the television.

"Jessie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, ''can I, uh, talk to you about something?''

The Canadian's brows furrowed in concern as she turned towards her partner. ''Of course.''

Y/N took a deep breath. ''First, I am so happy for you that you're going somewhere where they are appreciating your talent, and that you'll be closer to your family and your siblings...'' she began, her words slow and measured. She paused, struggling to meet Jessie's gaze. ''I just don't think that I, uh, am gonna be able to handle the distance.''

Jessie's stomach twisted with unease as she absorbed her words. In the days since it had become official that she would be moving to Portland, they hadn't really discussed how their relationship would proceed. Each of them had spoken about it with their friends, but they both seemed hesitant to broach the topic with each other, perhaps afraid of the uncertainty it might bring.

''I want to, Jessie, I really want to try- I just want you to know how I feel, it's been bothering me.''

The midfielder found it hard to respond as she observed her girlfriend who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. Tears welled up in Jessie's eyes as she reached out to gently cup Y/N's face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. "I understand," she whispered, her voice strained, "and I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Y/N's own eyes started to water. She leaned into Jessie's touch, her heart breaking at the thought of losing her. ''I love you, J Flem.''

''I love you.'' Jessie reciprocated as she took her partner into her arms, wanting her as close as possible.

''I don't know if I can handle being so far apart, not seeing you or speaking to you every day. International break is already a killer for me, and it's difficult to just go back-and-forth between Portland and London.'' The striker whispered into Jessie's neck, not able to say it any louder.

The Canadian nodded, completely understanding her perspective. ''I know,'' she whispered back, 'I never wanted to put you in this position."

For a moment, they simply held each other in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air. But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of their situation became increasingly clear.

''I don't want to hold you back.'' Y/N said, her voice muffled against the fabric of Jessie's shirt.

''You're not holding me back at all.'' Jessie immediately retorted, ruffling her hair.

Y/N weakly chuckled. ''It feels like I am.''

''Please don't think that, babe.''

They were both aware of what was coming, they were simply wasting time as if that would somehow work and they wouldn't have to leave each other.

''I remember when I first joined Chelsea, and I was watching some of you guys' matches, and thinking you were so intimidating,'' Jessie broke the silence.

''but then you were actually one of the first people to say hi to me, and you just looked so different than on the pitch. You were smiling, and trying your best to make me feel welcome.'' She laughed, an affectionate smile playing on her lips.

Y/N grinned as well, while wiping some loose tears away. ''I just remember thinking you looking super awkward.'' She dryly responded.

Jessie gave her a light push. ''Hey!''

''I also thought you were very cute… with your flushed cheeks.'' She quickly added.

The midfielder ironically blushed at the admission.

It became quiet between the two of them again, reminiscing their early days as teammates at Chelsea.

''We'll find our way back to one another, I'm sure of it.'' Jessie nodded.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat at Jessie's words. ''We're still so young, you never know what can happen.''

''And I know what's going to happen. You and I, together- whenever, wherever that may be.'' She reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of their impending separation. "I love you, Jessie." She told her, the pair locking eyes.

"I love you too," Jessie replied, her voice catching in her throat, "more than anything."

jessie fleming requests are always welcome!

[eyesthatroll]

my champ | n. mackinnon

pairing; nathan mackinnon x fem!reader

warning(s); kissing, cursing, mention of insecurity/self pressure??

summary; not long enough for a summary but took inspiration sort of from this tweet!!!! (🥹🥹)

word count; 0.83k

author's note; guys, i don't know how it happened, but i became enamored with nathan mackinnon in the time span of like 17 hours. i don't know what it is, there's just something about him!!!!!! anyways, go canucks!1!1! also this was going to be a lot longer but i haven't written in a while and just wanted to get back into the swing of things, hope it's not too bad. love ya!

Entering the hotel room, you feel an overwhelming sense of fatigue, prompting you to collapse onto the plush queen-sized bed positioned at the room's center. Disregarding the conventional way of removing your shoes, you nudge them off with your toes, allowing them to tumble onto the soft carpeted floor, not really caring where they land while simultaneously hoping Nathan doesn’t trip on them. 

"Baby?" Nathan's voice echoes from the bathroom. In reply, you emit a soft hum, the gentle cascade of water from the sink filling the room's silence.

Exiting the bathroom, he casually discards his jacket onto a coat rack affixed to the wall. Crossing over to the opposite side of the bed, he bends down to meet your gaze at eye level. "You okay?"

You roll your eyes, a subtle sigh escaping your lips. "Tired, hungry, dreading the weekend.”

He rises from his previous position, and you shift on the bed, making room for him to join. Settling in effortlessly, he turns his body to lie on his side, supporting his head with his elbow, giving him a perfect view of you. His gaze focuses on your left hand, where you absentmindedly fiddle with the gorgeous 4-carat radiant-cut diamond ring adorning your finger.

"I'll never get tired of seeing that on your finger," Nathan's voice is a gentle murmur, as if he fears that speaking any louder about your wedding ring would broadcast it to the entire world.

You respond with a soft smile, lifting your gaze to meet his deep blue eyes, filled with nothing but adoration. "It's a beautiful ring."

Indeed, it truly was. The diamond, precisely cut to the shape you desired, struck the perfect balance in size—not overly showy, as larger ones might seem to you, yet not too small, just perfectly proportioned. Leave it to Nathan to discover and present you with your dream ring, even though you had only casually mentioned your preferences maybe once in the past two years.

"You're beautiful," he comments easily, his free hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your teeth graze your bottom lip as you fight back a smile. "You're so corny.”

His thumb meets his middle finger to flick you in the forehead, shaking his head as he falls back onto the pillow. "Fuck off."

Seeing an opportunity, you use it to gracefully climb over him, your posture settling over the waistband of his sweatpants, which were hanging dangerously low. Taking a moment, you allow yourself to truly look at him, your breath catching in your throat as you admire your husband.

"What?" he asks, eyebrows quirked.

You shake your head. "You're so handsome."

He truly was, in every inconceivable sense of the word. You made it a point to express that sentiment and offer other compliments on a daily basis. Nathan, being a professional athlete, tended to be hard on himself and often overly critical. While you knew your compliments couldn't fully dispel what brewed below the surface, you liked to believe they provided some solace at least a little bit. 

"Who's corny now?" he teases, his hands shifting from his sides to your waist, slipping under the thick material of one of his old hoodies that you've stolen.

"I'm serious," you groan, laying a gentle slap against his chest.

"So was I," he counters. "And I-"

You lean down swiftly, pressing your lips against his in an attempt to silence him, and it works like a charm. Though, you can feel his famous Nate Mackinnon giggle against your lips, prompting one of your own. When you pull apart, a soft smile graces your lips as your fingers trace down the scruff of his beard. "My Stanley Cup champ."

His cheeks redden at your words, and he lets out an airy laugh.

"I'm so proud of you, you know that?" you ask, and he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, undoubtedly carrying a lingering taste of strawberry from your tinted lip balm.

"You tell me every day," he answers with a quick retort, rolling his eyes. However, a smile lingers on his lips.

Raising a brow, you inquire, "Do you believe me?"

Asking the question seemed to hang in the air, the silence stretching before he responded. His brow furrows, and you could almost feel the weight of his thoughts. A heavy sigh escapes his lips, a mix of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Course I do,” he finally answers. 

You narrow your eyes at him, sensing his hesitation. That wasn’t a very convincing answer, but you decide not to pressure him further. Instead, you lean down and rejoin your lips with his. This time, his hands migrate from your waist to your bum, their grip firm and reassuring as he sucks in your bottom lip.

"I love you so damn much," he murmurs, between kisses down your neck. 

God, did you love this man with everything in you.

[byrdblood]

I actually really like the idea that clothing/physical apperance is actually what fully determines a skeleton's 'biological sex/gender' rather than actual sexual characteriscs, since monster's are implied as not having any (they don't even have internal organs, so why external??)

So, that makes me wonder how this type of society would treat/percieve people who are more gender-nonconfirming externally, or in general people who works outside of this terms. Would prejudice exist??

I think one primal example of a skeleton who works outside of this kind of terms is Ink imo. In story, he actually was probably assigned 'nothing' at birth lol, due to his background of an unfinished sketch and all of that (in pretty sure that he canonically was actually NOT given any actual name too. So he had no identity of his own). In terms of physical apperance, he looks very androgynous imo. He wears a very loose/skirt- type of pants (that are inspired by a japanese clothing called 'hakama'. Which in today's japanese society is seen as a 'unisex' clothing) + tight crop top that is meant to compresses the chest. (this may sound ridiculous but people also often point out how comyet draws his body type, wich is kinda hourglass like? this is montly seen in drawings of his redesign lol). Even for being a 'sans', Ink was actually never really associated with the color blue? neitheir pink. He's mainly associated with the colors brown, yellow and mint green. Brown is actually acknowledged as the most 'unisex' color there is, yellow is too (this color actually has a vast genderqueer history associated), while green is montly seen as feminine (mostly the shade that Ink uses) (even his 'name' is not very telling of his gender since 'ink' is very gender-neutral+ it's actually translated as femeine in many latin-based languages, including french!)

I know that he's like, a canon he/they character so more of a androgynous look is indeed expected but this whole conversation just make me wonder what biological gender and he would have If he worked in normal terms....i see him as intersex, not gonna lie lol

Anon I am platonically and fictionally kissing you on the cheek right now you are fueling my autism so hard and I am so happy about it. I hope you like reading, because if not, I'm so sorry for the monster-gender-vs-sex BIBLE I'm about to throw up on you KHSGLADSHGA

I'm gonna mention some slightly more explicit subjects so just in case I'm gonna put it under another readmore!

About the "no internal organs so why external" thing, I COMPLETELY agree with you. And the thing is, even if most of the fandom wouldn't say it, I think most UT fans also agree with it, because again - I have been in the UT fandom since the beginning, okay, I know how UT fans season their freak sauce. And it seems like the general consensus (or at least the most commonly accepted headcanon) was that any monster could form anything, and also that physical intercourse wasn't actually how monsters reproduce - the soul is.

The reason I'm bringing this up is because i fucking love love love love fictional biology, okay, i LOVE trying to figure out how fantastical subjects would work in a real life setting, and take this with a grain of salt because I'm no biologist, but if reproduction didn't depend on biological sex, then sexual dimorphism wouldn't NEED to evolve because the species would not need to be able to tell the sexes apart at a glance. There wouldn't be any reason to be seen as male or female except for preference, because there would be no consequences for getting it "wrong". And while preference is of course a big deal in a species as social as monsters (or humans!), it's always going to take the wayside to immediate survival - the good old "4 F's" of evolution, you know. And the reason I bring that up is because, if monsters were biologically sexless by default, then when they DID form genitalia - aside from it being primarily for social/bonding reasons instead of reproductive ones, which is also a fascinating avenue - why on earth would they need to be gonochoric? It wouldn't save them any energy! In fact, even if monsters DID reproduce sexually, if you're already expending the energy to form this complex magical construct in the first place then why wouldn't you form both just to make sure you didn't miss your shot? That's evolution, babey!

Basically, what I'm saying is that I think "biologically" intersex should be default for monsters, both in reproduction of the soul and, naturally, also in physical intercourse - with gender being purely social. That's not to say gender wouldn't play any role in society at all, but there would be no real need for it to develop as this Big Important Thing if it had next to no impact on people's lives! I have no idea if prejudice would evolve; monsters are made of love, hope and compassion and I think that acts as a generous buffer to any cruelty that would develop, but we've seen that they're absolutely not incapable of it by a long shot. Honestly though, I'm inclined to believe that most wouldn't care. In Undertale, not only does everyone very naturally avoid gendering Frisk in conversation, they also don't ever ask them to clarify despite them presenting in a GNC way. Maybe that could be because they're a kid (and that could lend weight to the idea of monsters not developing a concrete gender identity until they're older - but that begs the question of when monsters would have puberty because I've heard gender identity develops in humans by ages 5-8 and I'm not slept enough for that right now LMAO), but honestly, to me that just lends credence to the idea that gender doesn't matter to monsters; if you're not presenting a certain way, they just default to neutral no problem. Maybe obvious nonconformity would confuse them because it's clear you're presenting some sort of way, and if they can't tell what, they'd naturally be anxious to get it wrong... but again, at that point, the only consequences for getting it wrong would be low-stakes social ones!

I'm also not saying that any of my Sanses are particularly GNC, to be clear, just that monsters approach gender with fewer shits given than humans do. In fact, of the TAU boys, Dust and Killer are both intersex, Nightmare is agender (canon, but still), and Cross (and Abaddon) are both AFAB (or the equivalent) - Axe is the closest one that could be said to be "cis", but in this group, HE'S the weird one for exclusively presenting with "male" genitalia. To be fair, TAU!Killer is more GNC than average and would respond to any pronoun you called him, but he still fully identifies as male and defaults to masculine. And I also think that a large part of Cross approaching his identity more like a human would (as opposed to Killer or, like, Mettaton, just being like "no I'm just this way and you have to deal with it"), is because he's from such an anomalous universe. X!Gaster created X!Tale and we know he's a total shitlord; it's weird in the first place for monsters to be willing to beat their fucking kids, and yet there he stands like a cheap Hitler costume listed on Wish.com with all his "one perfect world" shit.

(And one more thing - we know in canon that humanity's societies [or at least the ones immediately surrounding "Mt. Ebott", wherever it happens to be in a given world] INFLUENCE MONSTER SOCIETY through the trash that arrives in Waterfall! You show me someone who says that not a single porno mag fell down there and influenced monsterkind's ideas of gender presentation, and I'd show you a liar; monsters were developing alongside humanity the entire time they were in the Underground, we just don't know how/to what extent!)

Anyway IN FUCKING CONCLUSION: I completely agree with you about Ink being intersex AND I also see him as someone very GNC on top of that. Gender identity and biological sex are of course different subjects BUT I could very easily see him being influenced by monster culture when he was forming his identity, and therefore ending up kind of lax on his ideas of gender conformity. (Or conformity at all!) I really like Ink as a character but I also unfortunately understand why so many people have trouble with him; he's extremely unique both physically and morally, and it's difficult to get that nuance right. (I mean that fully as a compliment; his creator did a fantastic job.) Of course, the fact that he's been an outcode basically from day one also has fascinating implications; he's the "monster" equivalent of someone who was raised outside of a culture, I'd think, which could also heavily influence how he approaches the world! Maybe that also contributes to the intense protectiveness he feels for AUs; he could see them as this beautiful thing he was denied, and maybe some part of him feels envious and tries to channel it into "good". I'm not familiar enough with his character to really say, sadly.

[magicxc]

Pillow Talk

Pairings: Survey Corps x Black Reader - Things They Say In Bed

Word Count: 640

Warnings: just a tad bit of FUCKING

A/N: I’ve been directly inspired by the girlies and their idea of what these 2D men be saying in bed. I wanted to create my own version of that, but it turned out totally different than what I was going for; and for good reason too - cause this was so much fun!! Who had your favorite saying?

Eren  - “a relationship should be 50/50. I give you my last name and you scream my first.”

You were praying to the high heavens that this wasnt your proposal. Knees touching your shoulders, Eren had the tendency to get lost in the sauce; uttering things he surely didn't mean, like the time he promised to bring you back the moon and the stars from outer space. 

Levi - “when did you realise the y in ‘your girl’ is silent?”

Eyes brimmed over with tears and mascara running, Levi couldn't have found you prettier than in this very moment. It's something about the drool slathered across your chin and your messy hair that looked so raw, so authentically pleasing. His dick slid past your lips once more, your cheeks hallowed and tongue flat. The bright light of the flash signaled that he was indeed recording; sending the video straight to Kenny you assumed. But you couldn’t be bothered to care. This can either go terribly wrong or terribly right. 

Erwin - “the baby factory is about to get its first employee.”

Hips tilted on pillows and legs wrapped around his waist, Erwin holds you like that for a little while longer trying his best to make sure that his seed takes. Small kisses get placed on your cheek, lips, and neck. Heavily sighing in content, it dawns on you that you could absolutely fall asleep like this. 

Connie - “if hot women are going to lie, it should at least be on top of me.”

Lmfao he's so damn dramatic. All this because girls night went a little longer than expected. You’d promise Connie a movie together when you came home, but things took a little longer than expected and it was too late. All he had the energy for now was cuddles; unable to fall asleep unless half your body was draped over his. 

Jean - “I've never kissed under the cameltoe or whatever it is that Santa said.”

On bended knee, Jean’s face stood eye to eye with your kitty cat. Mahogany legs on full display as you adorned his favorite black chemise set, he couldn't help but beg for a taste before you headed to bed for the night. You knew you’d be a bit of a tease wearing this to sleep, but the set was sexy and you really wanted the chance to enjoy your lingerie without having it ripped off of you. Just a taste though, you thought. It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. But you knew better! Because although that's how it always started, that’s rarely where it ended. 

Onyankopon - “the only thing another nigga can take from me is notes.” 

His calloused palm pressed harder into your ass cheek, your face smushed deep into the pillows. The relentless driving of Ony’s hips into yours is another stark reminder that you were his and only his. This is surely the last time you’d ever dream of entertaining another man. 

Reiner - “if you dont have my children can you still be my mommy?”

Mommy kink alert!! Who would've thought that Reiner had a mommy kink? Who would’ve thought that it’d turn you on? Either way, the driving of his fingers into your cunt just got drenched in your approval. 

Armin - “we can watch the movie or make a movie.”

Is this not the meaning of Netflix and chill? Armin considers himself intelligent, but he couldnt have felt slower in this moment. Thankfully your endless cackling had put him to ease. However, his question did get you thinking. 

Floch - “my ears are always sore because your absence is so loud.”

Wrapped tightly in his arms, Floch languidly thrusts into you; his lips touching the shell of your ear as he professes his love. While this had started out as a fling, suddenly he was becoming too much to resist.

[layla4567]

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN Pt3

Mihawk x Thief!Fem!reader

Pt2

Summary: The third time is the charm they say. It's time to end this once and for all. Mihawk will find you again and this time it will be forever, will he let you go or will he keep you just for himself?

Warnings: teasing, kissing, kidnapping, shanks apricion, worries, canon divergence, y/n use, swearing/bad words, injuries, beta read, ooc maybe(?, mention of sword fights, mention of blood, lil make out

Wc: 6,524 (phew)

A/N: I listened to a lot of Rosalia songs before writing this, I have no idea why lmao

gif divider: @k1ssyoursister

A good day of profits, yes indeed. Your life continued as always, the small changes made before (thanks to the inspiration and advice of a warlord) have improved your existence. You had gained more muscle mass and resistance, now people called you "The light of the east blue" and not "The shadow" and that fascinated you. You never thought that so much satisfaction would come from helping the poor survive (and making the government angry, of course)

It was so fun to see the humiliated faces of the men who chased you after being defeated by a woman. Your wanted posters were still scattered all over the island, the reward on your head was very large but you didn't give it any importance, they would never catch you alive, you had learned a lot and evolved. Besides, it was flattering to see your face everywhere, they had even brought out the good side of your face.

You walked happily around the island strutting and swinging your hips like a cat. You already expected all eyes on you and you appreciated the audience. The people around you looked at you satisfied, happy, proud. You were his salvation. You stopped in front of a rewards sign. Your face was shown in all its glory, you put your hands on your hips and smiled widely.

"Even my nose is correct"

You walked safely home, waving your hair while you felt all the eyes behind your back. When you entered your humble abode, you took off your heavy sword and took off your hat. As you hung it on the coat rack, you quietly resisted when you saw Mihawk's wide-brimmed hat. You still hadn't returned it to him. You were planning to keep it for a while longer, so he would have to. look for you instead of you looking for him. The game of cat and mouse was fun for you and you had taken a liking to it.

You sighed tiredly and were about to lie down comfortably on the couch when a knock came on your door. Grumbling you jumped up and went to open the door. Oh surprise! Some uniformed men with unfriendly faces had stopped in front of the entrance. They were taller than you and looked angry. Those of the government.

"Excuse me miss, are you y/n y/l?"-One of them cleared his throat

You tried to hide your surprise by crossing one leg in front of the other and resting one arm on the door frame, how quickly they had discovered your name. Of course you didn't tell them the truth.

"Sorry, I don't know who you're talking about, you must have the wrong person"

You were about to close the door when one of them stopped it by placing his palm on the wood.

"I don't think so. Maybe we should try one more time, shall we? Are you the one they call The Light of East Blue formerly nicknamed The Shadow?"

Shit. They knew, they weren't genuinely asking, they had found you, they knew exactly who you were and they just wanted you to confirm it. You could see a flash of evil amusement pass through their eyes and it infuriated you, they were treating you like a poor devil. But you weren't stupid

"Gentlemen, with all due respect, I think it's not the right time to chat now, why don't you come later?"

Again you made an attempt to close the door but they kicked it with so much force that you almost lost your balance and fell. Staggering, you backed away in a state of alert. Now were they coming to break into your own house? That never. The two men approached slowly with sickly smiles, believing themselves to be the hunters and you the prey, poor idiots, they must have understood for a long time that it was the other way around. Your eyes scanned your entire room and when they found your sword you looked back at them and cautiously approached your weapon. With a quick and accurate movement you grabbed your trusty sword and threatened them, brandishing it in front of them, you moved your sword from side to side to make them move away. They angrily retreated and you took the opportunity to push them and run between the two of them.

You ran at full speed trying to lose sight of them. At a safe distance you turned your head and saw that other men had joined the chase. The people around were booing the government and cheering you. This undoubtedly gave you the strength to continue running to the beach. Your feet flew in the sand although the men behind you still did not give up. Suddenly you saw something from afar that made your blood run cold, or rather someone's. The famous warlord stood with his Yoru sword, appearing to be talking to someone through an intercom in his ear. With satisfaction you noticed that his dark, slightly curly hair was waving in the wind, you celebrated that the hat you stole from him was the only one he had because his new appearance didn't look bad on him at all.

Dracule had turned as cannons continued to fire and sent the sand flying behind him. As he did so, he saw you running and raised an eyebrow curiously when he noticed that some men were chasing you.

"Well, well. What trouble have you gotten yourself into now?"-he thought quietly

Mihawk tightened his grip on his sword and raised it to his shoulder. You hadn't stopped running but you were getting closer to him. The closer you got, the stronger the explosions became and you had to crouch down slightly, covering your head so they wouldn't shoot you. You arrived agitatedly next to him and looked at him from below, when he had his hat on you were intimidated by looking at him that way since it made him look taller than he is, but now you simply licked your lower lip and gave him a mocking, shit-eating smile. He stooped slightly to see you better and tilted his head.

"What happened now?"-he said tired

You feigned innocence "What? I was just in my abode calmly resting when these ruffians appeared in front of my entrance"-You pointed with a pout at the men who were approaching.

The warlord looked up at them and growled softly

"I see… good luck with that"

He turned to leave with more important matters to do when you, offended and indignant, grabbed his arm and roughly forced him to look at you again. You were no longer afraid of him getting angry, you knew that physical contact was not his thing. Dracule focused his gaze on you again and his eyes twinkled at you. You didn't remove your hand from his arm yet. It had been a long time since your last meeting, you still remember the tickle of his jaw against your skin, his whispering voice in your ear. For weeks you tried to suppress that annoying tickling that appeared in your belly when you thought about him, at that moment or when you saw him.

"You're not going anywhere, Warlord, or have you already forgotten that you rebelled against them too? I don't think they'll be very happy to let you go"

Mihawk growled lowly, looking at the government men and then looking at you. You were right. They would never leave him alone again, and all to help you. But could he complain? No, deep down Dracule was entertained, finally something that took him out of his boring life.

"Fine, I'll help you one more time, little bird. But you owe me one" -he said, getting into an attack position by your side

You smiled satisfied, having gotten what you wanted, you always have. Now the men were getting closer and closer and when he was only two meters away from you, you and Dracule grabbed your weapons tightly and began to fight. You had to admit that Mihawk was an excellent swordsman and he didn't wear the name warlord in vain. Back to back he quickly finished off the men who were coming at him, his height protected you and he made sure that no one touched you, despite knowing how to defend yourself alone. When one of them came dangerously close to you, Mihawk with a wide movement of his arm passed his great sword over you while you crouched down. Yoru's blade sliced ​​through the man's torso. Exhausted they looked around, the panorama was devastating. Fallen bodies everywhere, it seemed like the end of an arduous civil war.

You put your hands on your hips and closed your eyes, smiling contentedly. Dracule watched you carefully, memorizing your features as if he wanted to remember them later. It's been a long time since he saw you. Suddenly his deep voice broke the silence.

"I noticed you haven't brought my hat. Do you plan on keeping it longer?"-he said sarcastically

You looked at him mockingly. "Maybe, is there a problem with that? So I can continue admiring your beautiful curls in the wind"-you said with a shrug

You started to walk away from the beach towards the grass and Dracule rolled his eyes. Following you closely as if it were your shadow. He wasn't going to leave you so quickly now that he found you again.

"Are you some kind of vulture or why are you following me so closely?"

When you passed by a palm tree Mihawk took a step forward and stood next to you, unsheathing his sword and placing it in front of you with his arm extended to the right, stopping you. You looked at him irritated.

"I really would like my hat back, my dear"

"I'm sorry, that's not going to be possible, I realized that I like the perfume it has" - you said, smiling mischievously, Mihawk's smell was like that of grapes with a mixture of sandalwood.

You turned in front of the palm tree to go in the opposite direction when Mihawk crashed his yoru again against the trunk, preventing you from passing. You slammed the heel of your boot on the ground in anger and drew your sword.

"Alright if you want it that way"

Dracule, unlike you, seemed entertained by this new game, he realized that provoking you in that way had something…delicious. Now you two were facing each other with the palm tree in between the two of you. You raised your sword trying to cut him in the face when he was faster and gave you a light spank with the non-sharp part of his sword. The surprise was more than the pain and you opened your mouth and eyes as wide as you could while you brought your hands to your sore butt. You almost noticed Dracule's facial muscles trembling slightly trying to suppress a smile perhaps. Outraged, you ran towards another palm tree but the warlord did the same thing again, only this time the blow was a little stronger. You squealed, closing your eyes as you caressed your buttocks, surely now you would have a nice red mark.

"You are a rude pervert!"

"And you are stubborn"-he said calmly

You lunged at him and finally your sword collided with his. You fought with all your fury and great efforts while he simply moved his wrist and dodged the edge of your sword, it was like child's play for him. His arrogant attitude made your blood boil even more. At one point you brought your wrist forward and he grabbed it, put his head under it and spun you around until you crashed into his chest. You tried to get away but the arm Mihawk was holding you was against your back, only your other free hand was left which was now resting on Dracule's naked torso. He was breathing noisily through his nose from the effort. Your gaze lingered on his pecs for a second, trying to process what was happening. Again those annoying tickles like fluttering butterflies appeared in your belly. You looked up and noticed that Mihawk was looking at you. In fact, he hadn't stopped looking at you, so he also noticed how you were looking at his bare chest.

"You've come this far darling, now I'll ask you one more time. Give me the hat back now, please"

His deep voice resonated in his ribcage, it was funny how despite him now being under control his manners were not demanding and he asked for things please like a gentleman. His honey eyes piercing yours, his deep and manly voice, his soft and elegant gestures, his way of asking for things being calm and not rude. Damn. You could have melted right there if it weren't for him holding you tightly against his warm skin. You hated him and that stupid feeling that you tried to ignore but now you knew it was love. You tried to maintain your composure

"Fine was just playing, you bitter old man"

He loosened his grip and you finally separated from him like a hot breaststroke. You headed towards your house with him behind you. The entire way you avoided eye contact. When you arrived he stood at the entrance watching everything, afraid to interrupt your home. To tell the truth, its dark appearance made a strange contrast to your house with light walls and a warm appearance. You grabbed his hat from the rack and walked towards him. You caressed the fabric and the feather lovingly one last time and handed it to him. Dracule placed it on his head solemnly, stroking the wide black brim. When he looked up his eyes this time saw you softer.

"Anyone would think you fell in love with my hat"-he said raising an eyebrow

and not only with the hat

You rolled your eyes, smiling in amusement, and gently pushed him away.

"Ok you have what you wanted now go away and don't bother"

Dracule turned to leave and as he did so his black cape fluttered like a flag in the wind, so elegant. You slammed the door and sighing, you slid your back along the wood until you fell into a sitting position. What had all that been about? Did he realize the dangerous game he was playing? You put your hands to your hair, combing it back and trying to process what you experienced a few seconds ago. You shook your head, trying in vain to suppress all those feelings you had for the god of war that were increasing more and more like a giant snowflake rolling downhill, an avalanche of emotions and thoughts that you couldn't control. His naked torso was still stuck in your eyes as if you were seeing it right now. What would the rest of his body look like without clothes?

"Ok enough, I better visit my mother to distract myself"

You stood up and went to your room to get a large backpack where you would put everything you needed. Since you had become a thief and stole for the poor, your mother now lived much better. Many would say that it is selfish because you are helping someone in your family and not a stranger, but only God knows the bad times that both of them went through years ago. Although now she could buy her own things, you always brought her something as a gift, whether it was food or something else. You decided to wrap a couple of cookies and put them in your backpack. You started walking towards his house, people as you passed greeted you as if you were a rock star, you simply smiled and nodded back at them. Your mother's house was quite far away but you were used to walking so much so when you arrived you began to contemplate its facade. Painted white with two stories, the house was definitely beautiful. Your mother had been in charge of planting many flowers to give color.

"Mom! I'm here!!"-You screamed putting your hands around your mouth.

Your mother opened the door and ran towards you to hug you. The two merged into a warm embrace as if they were one.

"Honey, it's good to see you! I was missing your visits."-she said with a slight loving reproach.

"I know, I know. But my job is not easy…"

"Don't worry, come in and let's talk better inside"

Inside the big house was filled with plants too, hanging pots, tiny cacti, pothos and ferns, etc. And you loved it like that, it gave more life and purity to the home. You both sat on a soft sofa, you handed her the cookies and she thanked you tenderly. They spent the hours chatting like the old days when the two of you were alone at home and she taught you how to cook, knit, or paint. It's like all these years had never passed, everything was better with her and she made you feel safe and happy.

You looked at the wall clock "Oh, I'm sorry but I have to go now."

Your mother tilted her head a little sadly but then she got up and grabbing you by the cheeks gave you a loud kiss on the head.

"It's a shame sweetheart but I understand. Just come visit me more often when you can, okay? Don't forget it"

You nodded vigorously and she walked you out. Before you left she grabbed your wrist and held you for a moment longer.

"Please honey, take good care of yourself and don't put yourself in unnecessary danger, I want you to be safe. And remember that no matter what you do, I love you and I'm proud of you."

You felt your eyes begin to water, everything you did was for your mother and for her to tell you that was the best gift of life. You hated that they saw you cry so you looked away and wiped your tears with the back of your hand.

"Thanks mom, I love you too"

You walked away from the house and walking at a brisk pace you went to your house. When you arrived you felt fuller and happier, your mother always had that effect on you. You took off your boots and changed your clothes into something more comfortable. You chose a wide beige shirt and short brown pants. You realized that you were a little tired so you stretched like a cat and let yourself fall exhausted into the big chair to take a nap. And without realizing it you dreamed of Mihawk

Two hours later you woke up suddenly and you didn't know why. As in your dreams, you heard some dull, muffled and distant knocks. The knocks were insistent and were starting to tire you out, someone was knocking on the door. Annoyed because someone interrupted your nap, you got up and opened the door abruptly.

"WHAT?!"

A smiling face with brown eyes appeared before you, with fiery red locks falling on his forehead. He was wearing a navy blue shirt and you noticed that he was missing an arm. He had a slight smell of alcohol and his gaze ran over you from top to bottom until he stopped for a few seconds on your shirt that had opened and revealed your bra a little. You rolled your eyes and snorted which caught his attention and he quickly looked back into your eyes.

"You have 6 seconds to tell me who you are and what you are doing in my house"-you said bluntly

He cleared his throat "Hello doll, sorry for bothering you, my name is Shanks." He bowed slightly, winking.

Brilliant. another sycophant, you thought.

"I came to ask you something… Are you the new Robin Hood walking around these parts?"

You laughed sarcastically, Robin Hood… yeah, sure.

"I don't know what they told you or how you found me, but just so you know, they call me "The Light of East Blue," not Robin Hood"

"Sure babe, whatever you say"

Shanks knew very well how he had found you, to tell the truth it was not difficult to keep track of you. You were strutting around like a peacock. Also, by chance he had seen you talking to Mihawk near your house once and he was very curious about you, especially to know what your relationship with Dracule is. Your patience was running out and you started drumming your fingers on the door frame.

"Ok, ok I'll be brief. I like your style, I think you do noble deeds and you could be a great collaboration for my crew."

Shanks had to be joking. You worked alone and there was no chance you would join his crew or any other. Besides, you had the feeling that he hadn't come just for that reason, because of the way he smiled at you and how he seemed to eat you with his eyes. No, you were definitely better off alone.

"Ha! Shanks, right? Look, I work alone, okay? I don't need a crew or a pirate ship." You slowly got closer to him to intimidate him. "And believe me, I already know how men get in the presence of a girl and I don't need of that daily dose of idiocy in my life"

Your face was now closer to his. Shanks, far from being offended or angry, widened his smile, looking at you playfully.

"More girls should have your courage and toughness, I like it. Are you sure you don't want to come with us? We wouldn't need more feminine intuition."

You sighed rolling your eyes “NO!”

You walked into your house and slammed the door in his face. The redhead stood there for a few more seconds and then started laughing fun, turning around.

"We'll see each other again, then. I'm sure," he said quietly.

DAYS AFTER

You were walking calmly on the island, cooling off with the fresh breeze and smiling enthusiastically as usual. You walked through the stores looking at the clothes and jewelry in the windows, rubies, emeralds, silks and linen. You were about to enter a store when a thin girl with purple hair and a backpack stopped you a little abruptly. You turned around startled and frowning. The girl looked at you and seemed worried.

"Sorry to interrupt you but you're Y/N right?"

You looked at her somewhat surprised, almost no one knew your real name. You nodded confused.

The girl let out a sigh of relief "Oh thank God I found you, your mother asked me to call you urgently"

Your intrigue grew even more, how was it possible that she knew your mother? And what had happened to her? The girl noticed your confusion and hurried to say

"I'm Suni, her maid, she hired me a month ago. But now she's seriously ill and I don't know what she has, you have to help her soon!"

A whirlwind of emotions crossed your entire being and confusion gave way to panic. How had your mother gotten sick if a few days ago she was fine when you went to visit her? Why did he never mention Suni, had he forgotten? You couldn't waste time with questions so you ran with her to your mom's house. Your heart was beating fast and you feared the worst. When they both arrived you saw the house a few meters away and felt a little relief. When suddenly a headache invaded you and your vision blurred until it became black and you fell flat to the ground. Suni had hit you from behind with a bottle that he had taken out of his backpack. He smiled satisfied as he looked at you unconscious on the floor.

"You already have her?"-a voice behind her asked

A member of the government approached at a sure and fast pace, anxious.

"Yes, it was easier than it seems. It turns out that our little thief has a sensitive heart. Now pay me what you owe me"

The man paid without even looking at her, he only had eyes for you. They had finally caught you and they wouldn't let you escape. The man called his comrades and between six men they lifted you into the air and put you on a boat without being seen. Luckily, almost no one lived in that part of the island.

...

You woke up on a cold, wet floor and with a severe headache that almost made you nauseous. You slowly opened your eyes and had to get used to the darkness, you weren't sure where you were or what had happened to you, you only remembered being about to enter your mother's house and then that unbearable pain that left you faint. Suni… sure, Suni. That bitch set you up, but why?

Very slowly you sat up and realized that your hands were tied tightly with a rope, luckily they had not gagged you but you assumed it was because you were in a place where no one could hear you. Suddenly you heard sounds of splashing water and turned your head to see. In a round window you could see the sea, you were on a damn boat

You sat up with difficulty to see outside. The salty breeze hit you squarely and gave you the strength to wake up and get into action. You were about to come up with a plan when you heard footsteps approaching. A governor approached your cage and placed a hand on the bars to open the cell. You froze in place waiting for the moment to attack.

When the man entered you approached quickly but he stopped you by taking a gun out of his pocket.

"Don't even try, dear" He said while pointing at you

You stepped back in resignation as he smirked. You hated it

"Why the fuck did you lock me in here?"-you spat out the words like they were poison

"Simple, you were causing us a lot of problems especially when you started allying with Mihawk. But that's over"-he said playing with the gun

You approached again with a bitter smile. "You think you're very virile, don't you? Locking up a woman, believing that this way you'll gain more power, what did they offer you in exchange for my head? Money, a higher position? They wouldn't give you that even if I You're just another pawn in this chain, an idiot who delights in the inferiority of others, I feel sorry for you. You're just a miserable son of a-!"

A loud crack was heard throughout the cell and reverberated. The son of a bitch had slapped you. You fell to the ground with a pitiful moan, feeling like your lip had been split. You licked it and felt that iron taste.

"I'm not the one who's tied up, do yourself a favor and shut your fucking mouth."

The man spit on the ground and left to lock you up again. You felt alone and tears fell towards your cheeks without being able to stop them. You thought about many things but above all about Mihawk, you wanted him to come rescue you. You no longer cared about all those stupid feelings you had for him, because they weren't stupid. They made you feel good, loved and safe. You promised yourself that if you came out of this alive you would confess your love to him.

...

Dracule had gone out as always to do his job, kill. But he thought he felt a little lonely and realized it was because you weren't there. He would never admit it but his games and teasing towards you had a deeper meaning than just making you angry. He was amused when you challenged him but over time he realized that he had also fallen in love. Love…was it possible to feel that? Was it possible for someone like him to love? With you everything was possible.

With his Yoru on his waist he walked the beach looking for you, it was strange that you weren't turning around or running away from someone. Suddenly he saw someone but unfortunately it was not who he wanted to see. Shanks came running agitated and disheveled towards his friend.

"What do you want now Shanks? I'm not going to drink with you this time."

"It's Y/N! She's in danger, I saw how the government took her away!"-he said breathlessly

So the pirate hurriedly explained how he had seen Y/N and a girl in the market. He followed them and saw when they beat her and took her away. Dracule's eyes seemed to flash and turn yellower as his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white. He turned around and with long steps walked away from there.

"Wait! Where are you going?"-Shanks shouted.

Mihawk without turning, said "I'm going to save her"

...

You were still in your cage racking your brain thinking about an idea to escape from there, you couldn't take it anymore. From time to time some men would approach your cell to whistle at you or laugh in your face. Suddenly you saw a loose screw in a wall and started rubbing the ropes to untie the ropes. It took you several tries but you got it. Just in time when a uniformed member of that ship came to bring you food. You pretended to still be tied and approached, hunched over a little. When he opened the cell you got up and kicked him to run away.

You felt him shouting orders to catch you but you didn't hear him, you just ran towards the deck, eager to get out of there. When you came out you saw a large number of men surrounding you, some holding guns, you decided to take the risk and fight with all your strength.

There were too many of them but you managed not to get hit. What you didn't take into account was that you felt the fatigue of being locked up and your strength was leaving you. Suddenly while you were fighting with an admiral you felt a gunshot and a burning sensation in your arm. With a grimace of pain you first looked at your bleeding arm, the bullet had grazed you but still cut you, and then you looked back. The man who had locked you up was holding the gun towards you.

"She's mine"

They fought, although it didn't last long. He was stronger and soon with a blow to your jaw and belly he left you lying on the ground. You felt your body burn and you held back the tears of pain that wanted to appear in your eyes. You crawled as best you could on the ground to get away from him.

"That's it, crawl like the bitch you are. You know, you were right, I love feeling superior to the weakest"-He laughed as he kicked your legs, making you scream in pain.

"Don't worry, I'll spare you the pain, it'll just be a quick death" He said sarcastically as he prepared to shoot.

You closed your eyes in fear and your body tense as you waited for the shot. but that never came, instead a strong shake made the ship shake, someone was firing cannons. With great effort you propped yourself up on your elbows and saw Mihawk's ship in the distance. You sobbed in relief.

The ship got closer and closer until it soon collided with the other and Dracule jumped towards where you were. You were feeling very sore so you could only pick up a few things, like how Mihawk seemed angrier than usual as he moved frantically and killed the men mercilessly. When he had finished he approached you with a genuinely concerned face, you've never seen him like this.

"M-mihawk...?"-you said almost without strength

He crouched down to your height. "Shh, don't say anything. Let's get out of here."

He picked you up from the ground and you complained about the pain, he tried to be as delicate as possible and taking you to the wedding reception he walked away from there so he could leave you in his castle. Your vision became blurry again and you became unconscious.

...

When you woke up you noticed a soft, pleasant warmth. You opened your eyes and noticed that you were in Mihawk's castle and that heat was from the fireplace. Dracule was sitting right in front of you, you smiled shyly and wanted to sit up but a sharp pain in your abdomen made the air escape from your lungs and you fell back into the chair. He approached, afraid that you had hurt yourself, and put his hand under your neck.

"Don't move, you still need to rest."

You looked down at your body and noticed that your shirt was gone and a large band on your abdomen was pressing against your skin. On your arm there was also a tight white band to stop the blood. You instinctively touched your lip and noticed that it was no longer bleeding.

"I called a doctor myself to treat you, he said that your injuries are not that serious and you will be fine."

You looked at him and suddenly remembered everything you had been through. All the accumulated nerves and tension were triggered and came out in the form of crying. Without realizing it you began to sob bitterly. Mihawk was worried and wiped away your tears, holding your cheek with his hand.

"Darling, what's wrong?"

You cried harder as you held on to his hand. How would you tell him that you loved him in a state like that? When you realized that you were about to die, you thought about him, how much you loved him and how much you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. And now he had been so nice to you, as if he were someone else. You really felt that he cared about you and also felt love.

"Mihawk, I… I don't know where to start. Something like this had never happened to me, I- I felt afraid, very afraid. I thought I was going to die and the only thing I thought about was you" you felt your voice break "Thinking about you gave me hope, you were my anchor so I wouldn't give up and I realized… that I don't want to live without you, I love you."

Since you couldn't stop sobbing, Dracule approached you and kissed you on the lips. At first it was a sweet and tender kiss but soon you two realized that it was not enough, it was not enough to show all the love and desire that you had been suppressing so he placed a hand behind your neck and deepened the kiss. . You gasped in surprise when you felt his tongue run through your mouth but you gladly let him do it. Mihawk rested his knees on the cushions of the chair, cornering you while he raised your thighs and you surrounded his waist with your legs. Your hands surrounded his neck and he began to kiss your jaw and run his lips and his facial hair along your neck, tickling you.

"I didn't realize how much I loved you either until I saw you lying there, helpless" He whispered against your skin "All these games were starting to take their toll on me, you've cast a spell on me angel"

His words and his whispered voice were beginning to cause that tickling in your tummy that you already knew with the addition of a throbbing in your groin.

"Mihawk I-"

His mouth was now kissing your collarbones near your chest and making you sigh, you wanted more. You cautiously raised your hips until you bumped against his pelvis, wanting some friction as your hands were now in his hair. Mihawk kissed you again, sucking and biting your lower lip. Suddenly he got too close to your wounded belly and made you moan in pain. Startled slightly, he moved away from you a little, looking at you.

"Don't worry, it wasn't your fault, I'm fine."-You comforted him by stroking his jaw when you saw him so worried.

He nodded in relief and grabbed your hand to kiss your knuckles.

"Rest now my love, there will be time to enjoy the two of us"

You smiled a little blushing and he left you alone to recover. You never thought something like this could happen to you, or to him. Love love love. YES, that was it and you liked it that way. I resisted you thinking that at first they couldn't stand each other, and now… well only time will tell, but you were sure that this was the beginning of something beautiful.

...

That afternoon you went to visit your mother as you usually did. Now you were chatting with her in the same chair as always.

"Oh honey, the letters you sent me are very nice but you finally appear here!"-she laughed

Yes, it had been weeks since Mihawk let you stay in his castle, since you couldn't go out anywhere he suggested you write letters to your mother and he would send them himself. That's how you started telling your mother about your experience in the big castle, your relationship with Mihawk and what had happened to you. Until you recovered and were able to visit her like now.

"Well… what did you think? Did you read them all?"

"Of course yes! I admit that I was very scared when I read about the kidnapping, but it was lovely to know that they rescued you and left you in a castle!" She lowered her voice and looked at you knowingly. "Above all, I found the letters where you named Mihawk very interesting."

"Mom!"

You looked away blushing and embarrassed. In your letters you had told him what Dracule was like, but not what others could know about him but something deeper, what he was like inside. Your relationship with him had blossomed, you could say that you were already a formal couple. And your mother seemed happy about it. Of course you never clarified your intimate encounters with him, the way he touched you and made you sigh with pleasure.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to go back to the castle, he's waiting for me for lunch."

"I understand love, I won't keep you anymore"

After a hug you said goodbye to her and ran towards the castle. Now you lived with him. You decided that after everything you went through you couldn't be away from him for a minute, ever again. You continued doing your job and his, sometimes separately or fighting together, that had not changed. When you arrived he greeted you with a small smile and a passionate kiss.

"Just in time, my angel"

"Always"

They both entered the castle holding hands, happy. As they say, the sun always comes out after the storm, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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